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■:t>^'3
^
THE BRITISH
CONTROVERSIALIST,
AKD
IMPARTIAL INQUIRER:
irriELISffED POB THE PUBPOSB OF FOBUING A SUITABLE UEDIUU FOB
THE DEI.IBESA.TS DISCUSSION OF IMPOBTANT QUESTIONS IN
IIZHGIOX, PHILOSOPHY, HISTORY, POLITICS, SOCIAL
ECONOMY, ETC.
•* MAOXA EST XERtTAS, ET PRJEVALCBIT.
' ^eae msy >rf^ exception to the form of these writings, becanse they are chiefly conboversial :
K -^ BO olgcction can be more Aatile. Onr land has become glorious through controversy, and
* "brrt has the mind of £ngland potou more of might than on the battle-field of truth. The
^^>u^: vorks onr eoautry can boast of take this very form. What were left to us of our Hookers
t .i Banows. our Taylors and Hiltons, if their controversial works were excepted? The truth is,
^ ' '*or^tr would Have knowledge respecting doctrines and principles that are still unsettled, whether
'^ -^^^-ipask or in science, must seek it through this foi-m, or be altogether disappointed."
VOLUME IIL
LOKDONj
PUBLISHED BY HOULSTON AND STONEMAN,
-• ea, PATERNOSTER ROW,
1852.
PREFACE.
TiM£, with hit steady but noUeleas step, has well nigh completed another annual round,
lad titt <^d man, with a genial smile, seems to intimate that we must make up tliia
T^coe if we would allow him to place it in one of the niches reserved in the great
ia!|ife of literature for the intellectual products of the present year. In order to secure
>.ii pra&td sK^ices we cheerfulij take the hint, and in a few brief sentences mark the
lEnaiaatioa of our laboon for this year, with anticipatory references to their resumption
Of oar OD&tmversial department much need not be said. In this volume, as in the
'fccedJQg cnea, great questions of deep and absorbing interest are calmly and pbilo*
si^^HdUr disruffied ; every subject taken up is presented in various phases, by which
i ffiri! (ff pare edecticijim must be imbibed by every thoughtful reader. The novel
eipenxcnt^ commenced in 1850, of establishing a magazine, " open to all, but devoted to
'-'■^'' has been continued to the present time with unvarying success. We have proved
-7 tL« i«eefal evidence of fact that it is possible for earnest men of every party to meet
'^'^& one eoomon pUtfonn, and to discuss, in a spirit of kindness, their various opinions.
ia <3<asg thia we have not only establuthed a great principle, but we have worked out
Cffiu, sod thus we believe we have served the great cause of truth, and promoted
L.e iiigiiest interests of humanity.
We can also point with pleasure to the other departments of our work, and particularly
td tJsofe which are specially devoted to the service of those who are pursuing a course
'■i sdf-iastruction and mental culture. The leading articles on " Rhetoric " are eminently
'""^^i^ to such; and, with the preceding ones on the *' Art of Reasoning," they will be
'-^ to OQOstitute a body of thought and information which must be regarded as doubly
^aiaable to all who desire to influence their fellows by their voices or their pens. The
' Prokgoiaena " on European Philosophy will show how extensive is the field over which
^ frojected series of papers will range, and^how varied, and, yet, withal, how rich, are its
Todects, ss well as the sterling ability with which the topics 'announced are likely to be
tntated. '*Tfae Inquirer*' still increases, in the pomber and importance of its queries,
^ i£ the value and appropriateness of its responsive *' words of wisdom." " The Young
^tojest sad Writer s Assistant " has occupied 'its new ^o^tions of usefulness with great
^aceesa. Having through the Ix^ic Class and extensive communication with our readers
^^^■^^tused that we had gathered around us a very large number of self-instructors, and
^<ag uxioas to render them additional aid in the best possible form, we commenced with
'^ preKot year two new classes for regular courses of instruction in Grammar and
-^liliufflatics. In these we immediately enrolled nearly 300 members; the majority of
*Sir«t have continued steadily to pursue their studies with the most satisfactory results.
«e icvtew these labours with pleasure, and rrjoice in the thought that we have been
'^. to contribute no insignificant quota to the cause of popular education and intellectual
'^^^iBcnt — a nation's surest guarantee for freedom and progress.
T&ere an circumstances connected with the history of this volume to which we may
'f-n rrfgf, ag otherwise, perhaps, no notice might be preserved of them. We mean the
'l^cUl eSjits which have been made to bring our magazme under more general attention,
{
17 TREFACB.
and thvuB to aid in increasing its circulation. In the month of Angnst last we expressed
a wish, in contemplating a northern tonr, to meet our subscribers and friends in some of
the towns through which we should pass. This course was novel, but not unwise. The
old Ljdians had a tradition which stated that one of thdr kings had the good fortune to
discover, in the bowels of the earth, a ring which had the manrellons property of rendering
him who wore it invisible to the eyes of his fellows. Such a ring all editors consider
themselves privileged to wear; and we, although one of our number was contented to leave
his ring in the sanctum, and appear amongst our readers in proper person, are not indifferent
to the occasional advantages of this privilege. The meetings thus attended were of the
most interesting and stimulating character. Mutual interest was felt and increased, and
in every case energedo measures were spontaneously resolved upon for furthering the
interests of this work. These meetings suggested others, and now, in nearly all the large
towns in the kingdom, there have been earnest conferences amongst our friends. If it
be inquired, what is the object of all these? we answer, to place the Britifh Contro^
vernalist in a position of greater strength and safety, by securing for it at least the
desiderated monthly circulation of 10,000 copies. That this is quite attainable wo
firmly believe, although the thoughtful and impartial character of the magazine may
render considerable effort for it necessary. We are fully aware that we might have been
more popular had we aimed at being less useful ; but we do not desire to widen the range of
our influence by decreasing its depth and beneficial power. We believe that there, is a
vexy large and rapidly increasing class of persons who are prepared to appreciate our journal^
and we ask for its introduction, under favourable auspices, to them. We are desirous of
this and its attendant results, that we may be enabled to continue our work, in all its
sections, with renewed vigour, and to pursue with energy those fresh paths of usefulness
that lie before us.
We are desirous, in January, 1853, of opening an Elementary Mathematical Class, a new
Logic Class, with Sections for Tyrones^ ProvectioreSjaad SemoreSf and subsequently Classes
for General History and Geography, Sec, and to award prizes and certificates of merit in
connexion with each. The expense incurred by these improvements will be very consider-
able, and we cannot, of course, meet it without adequate returns. In the spirit, therefore,
in which we first offered our services to the public and awaited their decision, we now
submit these projects to our friends, and leave it for them to say whether we shall carry
all of them out or not. We have confidence in the interest and zeal of our readers,
and we leave the cause of their own magazine in their own hands.
But we must not lose ourselves in the contemplation of the future, nor fail to express
our soul-felt gratitude for the favours of the past. Never was this more justly due, or
more cheerfully and sincerely rendered. Friends, subscribers, and contributors, we thank
you all ! And while we solicit the continuance of your support, we promise honestly to
endeavour to be still more worthy of it. We shall use our utmost efforts so to elevate the
mind of society —
" That truth no more be gagged, nor contcience dttngeoned.
Bot (hat all men may have due liberty
To speak an honest mind in every laud,
Encounifrement to ntudy, leave to uct
At conscience orders."
INDEX.
PAGE.
BSKTOaiC;—
ItaredoiaioQi 1
TLe TCalaire and Orif^n of Ijuxgua^e .... 41
Tbe GrowtJb o( Ijutsni^^e 61
CaBa«» of the DiveraUy of Language. —
Clsa«» of Words 121
A. Gruftoaatical Outline l^l
Tfae BistoTY Kud Structure of ibc English
lABcoaee 201
Style, rm 241
^TTKcrxTxa in the tJse of Ijinguage ...... 281
I- wiUk Directions re»peciujg.
321
3151
401
k — ^TiTaclry"— Harmony 441
consistently wiib their
vender Support to the British
?
Artide,! 128
Artiele,! 132
A^rciele,S 170
Artiele^S 173
Te Article, 3 211
Article. 3 SI4
▼e Article, 4 248
^•''^aii-ve Artide, 4 247
AffiTWMtfive Article, 5 287
N'f'saiivc Article, 0 289
AifixvxkmtiTr Reply 203
veRcply 2i>i
1» Tl9aM3eopatliT True in PritxcEple and
t^aal iaPracsioe?
Aniele,! 7
Article,! 8
Article,3 47
Aitide,S 49
iTeArtscIe,3 87
Xe«Ki«e Article, 3 89
liveAxtide,4 133
Article. 4 136
Beply 175
B«pty 180
PHILOSOPHY :— (CoDtiaued.)
I» Woman Mentally Inferior to man 1
Introductory Article
Negative Article, 1
Afflrmatiye Article, 1
Negative Article, 2
Affirmative Article, 3
Negative Article, 3
Afflmiative Article, 3
Negative Article, 4
A£Brmative Article, 4
Negative Reply
Affirmative Heply ^
HISTORY:—
Can the Apostolic Origin and Natii
Independence of the British Church
Proved?
Negative Article, 1
Affirmative Article, I
Negative Article, 2
Affirmative Article, 2
Negative Reply ,
Affirmative Reply
Neutral Article
Were the Effieots of the Crusades Favour
to the Civilization and Moral Elevatio
the People 7
Affirmative Article, 1
NM^tive Article, 1
Afnrmative .\rticle, 2
Negative Article, 2
Affirmative Article, 3
Negative Article, 3
Affirmative Article, 4
Negative Article, 4
Aitirmative Reply
Negative Reply
POLITICS :—
Ought the Jeirs to be Admitted to ]
liament?
Affirmative Article, 1
Negative Article, 1
Affirmative Article, 3 •
Negative Article, 3
17 PREFACE.
and thns to aid in increasing its circulation. In tbo month of August last vre expressed
ft wish, in contemplating a northern tour, to meet our subscribers and friends in some of
the towns through which we should pass. This course was novel, but not unwise. Tho
old Ljdisns had a tradition which stated that one of their kings had the good fortune to
discover, in the bowels of the earth, a ring which had the marvellous property of rendering
him who wore it invisible to the ejes of his fellows. Such a ring all editors consider
themselves privileged to wear; and we, although one of our number was contented to leave
his ring in the sanctum, and appear amongst our readers in proper person, are not iudififcrcnt
to the occasional advantages of this privilege. The meetings thus attended were of the
most interesting and stimulating character. Mutual interest was felt and increased, and
in every case energetic measures were spontaneoublj resolved upon for furthering the
interests of this work. Tliese meetings suggested others, and now, in nearly all the large
towns in the kingdom, there have been earnest conferences amongst our friends. If it
be inquired, what is the object of all these? we answer, to place the British Contro-
versialist in a position of greater strength and safety, by securing for it at least tlic
desiderated monthly circulation of 10.000 copies. That this is quite attainable wo
firmly believe, although the thoughtful and impartial character of tlic magazine* may
render considerable effort for it necessary. We are fully aware that wc might have been
more popular had wc umed at being less useful ; but wc do not desire to widen the rancrc of
our influence by decreasing its depth and beneficial power. We believe that there is a
Tery large and rapidly increasing class of persons who are prepared to appreciate our journal^
and we ask for its introduction, under favourable auspices, to them. We arc desirous of
this and its attendant results, that we may be enabled to continue our work, in all its
aecticms, with renewed vigour, and to pursue with energy those fresh paths of usefulness
that lie before us.
Wc are desirous, in January, 1853, of opening an Elementary Mathematical Class, a new
Logic Class, with Sections for TyroncSj P rorcctlore^ jOnd SenioreSj and subsequently Classes
for General Ilistory and Geography, &c., and to award prizes and certificates of merit in
connexion with each. The expense incurred by these improvements will be very consider-
able, and wc cannot, of course, meet it without adequate returns. In the spirit, therefore,
in which we first offered our services to the public and awaited their decision, wo now
submit these projects to our friends, and leave it for them to say whether we shall carry
all of them out or not. AVe have confidence in the interest and zeal of our readers,
and we leave the cause of tluir oien magazine in their own hands.
But we must not lose ourselves in the contemplation of the future, nor fail to express
onr soul-felt gratitude for the favours of the past. Never was this more justly due, or
more cheerfully and sincerely rendered. Friends, subscribers, and contributors, we thank
you all! And while we solicit the continuance of your support, we jjromise honestly to
endeavour to be still more worthy of it. We shall use our utmost efforts so to elcrntc the
mind of society —
"ThMt troth no more be gafrged, nor conscieuce dungeoned.
• •••••
But that all men may have due liberty
To apeak «u honest oiiiid in every Iniid,
Eaeourmaement to ntudy, leave lo a^t
-Am ooiucJance onlan.*'
INDEX.
■inlmo, Willi DInccliiu r
SILIGIOS :—
ie Orl|rm Uld NllidDll
ic in Prbidple irad
v; ■.v/;.'.:v.v;^ ^a™.u«Articif.i
/iy / -Vrcmive Anicle, 1
.'.■.V;;,'.V.V,V; ' /« / ^mnn-ti.e Artlel*. »
Nynibidln
X».a«AnW..l .
SOCIAL ECONOMY :-
BECTKiSi-lCoii
k Yomig M«i • BiLlKJl A>
4racJSTlEB SECTION —
' JhivfiiH «nd ll( Ii
nioKx.
VII
PAUE.
SOCIETIES' SECTION :—(ConUnae(].)
Wtl{2uf&*u>w Mutual Inprovement So-
drty 1 10
Wot Ix«dic« — British Guyiuia Mutual Im-
proremeiit A-»sociaiiou 435
r. Drimrara— Smith Church
Matiul Iinprii\i-mcut A»»oviation .... 31
Wi.ivo - untie r. Edge Mutual Improve-
nitni Sticii'ly 470
Te«(itin Mu:uiil Ini}frovemeQ! Sucirty .. Sii
Yecriil Muiwil Itupruveuient Society .... 31S
THE IXQl'IKEK :—
Qocitipfls requiring Answers : — 33, 75, 113,
VA, 1H4. 237, '27 i, 313, 356, 3»2, 435.
Aancn to Questions : —
ia Ictaarr 157
AdBmsir>n to the English Bar 33
lIlitersnTe Vr-nes 198
AsMdoIr ofO Ctnnell 3tf4
Bloomfields and AlTord's Grrek Test*.
nxms 156
Botany 1 13
Csabri^K^ I'niversity 306
Carthaginian Nani«« 237
Chivalry, the CrusadM, and our Colo-
ns 238, 275
CoaniMm plaf* Books 277,313
Caavcyanciug 1 14
Diafy 3W
I>iasmtir.j^ Colleges 436
Ebetro-BioLigy and Braidism 34
Ibcackm 276
Ea^tfish CompoKiiion 157
Jtdlity in Cuin|>o&ition 76
tirammar 77
Berbaiiui&jk 357,3t<5
fi««rfhary 1ui«nity and Matrimony .... 436
BoBoeopatJiy 276
Hov 10 Cultivate the Habit of Attention . 471
Bov to Cultivate Ute Voice 276
Row Vt Keep a Diary 357
Bov u> Stu.ly Euclid 76
IncQbation 358
Latin and Greek without a Master 277
laugtungGos 357
LBcraiy Eoiinence— how to attain it 274
londoo University Matriculation 378
llaDch«st«r Eugineering 275
Xeocal Ariaiuieuc 35
Mercaior 438
Mind, in iu R«Iation to Matter 237
Ministerial Works 109
MoBinootluhire not in Wales 30:)
Maaic 155
MnsMal Adrice 33
On oiiPriDjr the Ministry of the Church of
EndatMl 395
Pantheism and RadtmaJism 112
PhoaBgra(*hy 471
AroHdogy 1 14
PACE.
THE INQUIRER:— {ConUnued.)
Scotch Law Conveyancing 471
Sermon in favour ol Homoropathy 155
St. Bees College. Cumberland 31i2
Style and Punctuation 3U5
The Amount o( Ould in Circulation 150
The best Method of Studying Mathematics,
with Advice to Students 437
The Fabled Hebrew Wanderer 76, 1 13
The French Language 314, 394
The Gennan Language 315
The Italian Language 238, 276
The Law— Solicitors 34
The 4 origin and Nature of Manors 395
The Pharmaceutical Society 436
The Port-Royalists 196
The Study of Language 356
The Temperature of Water A-om a Pump . 394
The Welsh Language 993
Tranq>arent Pointing on Glass 199
Ventrilo<iui»m 155
Works for Seamen iw)
THE YOUNG STUDENT AND WRITERS
ASSISTANT :—
Logic Class :— Exercises on the ** Art of
Reasoning," 37, 78, 115, 157, 199, 238, 278,
315, 359, 398
Gkammar Class:— ExMvises in Gram-
mar, 78, 110, 158, 199, 239, 278, 316, 359, 397,
439
Mathkkatical Class:- Questions fbr
Solution, 37, 79, 117, 159, 199, 240, 279, 317,
360, 399, 439
Solutions, 116, 158, 199, 239, 278, 316, 359, 396,
439, 473
NOTICES OF BOOKS :—
A lecture on the Civilizing Influence of
Christianity 117
A Manual of Universal Historr 400
Autobiography of William Jerdan, Vol. I. 390
., Vol. 3. 440
Dictionary of Domestic Medicine 79
English Synonymes 130
Every-Uay Astronomy 400
Lebahn's Practice of German 118
Little Henry 8 Holiday at the Great Ex-
hibition 39
Logic for the Million 39
Munro's Manual of Logic 2f<U
Old Eighteen-IIuudreirand-Fifly-One . . 280
Reason and Faith 39
Sclf-Kducalion 40
Supplement to Etymological Dictionary. . 118
The Diffusion of Knowledge 38
The Foundation, Construction, and Eter-
nity of Character 79
The Life of Edward Baiues, late M.P.,
159, 319
The Life of Lord JcfTi-ey aW
vm
VSDEX,
CONTRIBUTORS' SIGNATURES.
PACK.
A. 383,464
Albaa 107
A. C 34, 37, 76, 393
Adelphos 69, 250
An Undergraduate 278
Aristides UK), 133, 295, 3U6, 420
Aristotle 214
At B> ••••...•..•.«••.•.•••••••« J«K5, vtN/, 4tX)
j^i;, . . 4i3
ATrinitir 'iiin* * * .' * .' * * .* .' .' .* * ." .* .' * .' .' 397, 438, 472
B. W. P 19,141,375
\^m ^^m A* •••■•■••••■••••••••••••••••••••• VOw
\^ 9 £l ■ Xmm •••••■•■••••■••••••■•••••••••••« *^'«
C.J.H 358
ConfeMarius 309, 42rt
C. W.,Jun., 24, 49. 113. 132. 136.156.224,835,
268, 277, 29A, 339, 369, 381, 455,466
D. H 115,202,280
D. J 394
B. B 78, 272
P. F 103,231
G. B 96, 191 , 265
O. N 341,456
G. P. 190
G.V..M.D 8
Harold 4.W
Homo 105
H. P. H 8 459
H. S. W 306, 472
H.T 173,247,250,421
Irene 89, 2-J9
J.B 10,;
J. E. H.D
J.E. P
J. F
J. a. R. 270, '3\t
J. H IW
J.S.J
J. M. 8
J. N 64
Junior Sophisteti
Justinian
L. G.G
L.I
Non Nobis Solum
Pbilomatlios
Kembrandt
JkV« ^U ■ Vv • •••«•••••••■•••••«••••••■••
0« Jmm •!• «««•■■•••■••>••*••■•••••••■•
Scrutator
Senoj 22:
S. M. F
S.N
T F O
T.W.I
U. M 2:
Veritas t
Vinclum 1
Vir
W. T 1
W. G
X ;:;»
THE BRITISH CONTROVERSIALIST.
ll|jrtDrir.
BT THE AUTHOR OF "tHE AET OF REASONING.*'
Na L
TuAT " the manner of speaking is as important as the matter,** id a maxim as false as
it is superficial, and as detrimental to the cultivation of true Eloquence as it is false. For
viat purpose is it that man fashions the subtle and delicate air into wise and melodious
•wd*, and ?ives them wings, as angels, of pcniuasion or command ? It is that he may
expws Thought, We have no objection to the mere act of elaborating a cunning web of
brijirht and exquisite words, but let these words at the same time embodj and contaiu
iein*?thing that will not only charm the sense of harmony, but captivate and gratify the
intellect. Let Lar;;uage be constructed so as to give the greatest possible amount of
fletpure and delight, but let it also furnish the mind with something that will instruct,
noble, and exalt it. Thought — ^thought that is the grand desideratum of our age; let
flat be but gained, and then it may be draped in words as lastrous as star-gleams — a
intre whioh will not only adorn but illumine the thought. To think is our first duty, to
dprau our thoughts is the second.
We know full well, that in laying down the proposition that there is a Science of
BbftorifC^ we expose ourselves to the questioning of objectors. AMiat ! we shall be asked,
do you wijih to circumscribe, restrain^ and curb Genius — that glorious inspiration and
BRd-divine madness? What Rhetorical art gave Uomcr instruction before he improvised
ihr. ''Iliad'' ? Wlio taught him the principles on which the "Odyssey" should be cou-
itructed? Do not those two poems rise up like twin-bom stars amid the darkness of an
Lnt>Cftctnal chaos? Before these, was not all gloom? Whence, then, gained he his h'ght?
*Tbe thousand-souled Shakspcare," too, has he not built himself "a livelong monument'*
n the profbondest depths of human hearts, and when did he study Rhetoric? Where is
the heart-string which he has not touched — where the passion which he has not repre-
teat^J — what recess of that *^ mighty mystery," the heart of man, has he not unlocked
without its aid?
" RlM, hallowed If Uton, rise, and say"
V w^ sage Bhetorician*f rules thou wert informed how to ride
" Sublime
Upon ibeMenph wing* ofccstBcy,"*
■a vki* •ifiadjpim atemnpontioa ''did he Impnas upon thy glory.?iaioned BwiV^ KiA
2 RHETORIC. — ^MO. I.
there is Barns, likc^irise, the bard irho song tlie homely jojrs, the simple luvea, the keen-
felt sorrows of the humbler ranks —
** And rustic lore and porerty
Grew beautUbl beneath bis touch"—
pray tell ns, if thou canst, from whom did he acquire the art of thought-expression? Is
not Nature the best teacher, and are not her pupib better fitted
'* To snatch a grace beyond the reach of art,"
than those wlio are
" In outward' show
Elaborate, in inward less exact ? "
It would be easy, indeed, to answer all these queries by others, which would bear the
appearance of — ay, and possess — as much accuracy and points One, however, will bo
sufficient for our present purpose, viz.: — Who are thoso who compare themselves with
Homer, Shakspeare, Milton, and Bums, and demand equal exonption from the bondage of
law and rule, upon the ground of possessing a genius of an equiilly lofty character? But
we prefer to reason the matter, and hence we look at the subject in the following points of
view; — There is a certain power of persuasion possessed by the generality of men, and
exerted by them with a greater or less degree of efficacy in their every-day walk and con-
Tersation. If, then, wo believe that no effect can happen without a cause, we must believe
that there are causes in operation which coincide in producing this efficacy of persuasion.
If these laws are discoverable — and that they are, few will, we presume, be inclined to
deny — there is a possibility of constructing a system of the laws of expression; and having
a knowledge of these laws, we might elaborate from them an art which would enable us to
express our thoughts in such a manner as should at the same time please and instruct; at
least we shall have a greater likelihood of being able to do so than if we trust to mere
random and impulsive promptings; for if there are laws of Nature which declare that
such and such modes of expression are expressly adapted to the production of certain
effects, to know these laws, and to follow them, must be the best method of gaining these
ends. A carefully-digested science, whoso principles havo been culled from a clear,
judicious, accurate, and cautiotis interpretation of experience and observation, is regarded
by all men as a fundamental point in any art; a systematic study of the laws by which
phenomena are producible, is generally considered as indispensable to every one who desires
to labour in the production of such effects ; a well-defined series of canons, together con>
stituting a theory, is admitted to be necessary to the success of any cotirse of procedure
having for its object tlie accomplishment of certain ends; and there is no good reason why
it should not be so in the case of Bhctoric. It is true that we may be told that Genius is
self-sufficient; that its inttiitions are the best guides it can have; that it is possessed of a
noble daring which enables.it to burst the fetters of rule, aud to gain a higher excellence
than that produced by the careful and elaborate study of sciences and arts. If this be
truth, then it is in opposition to the universal experience of mankind, which asserts, that
true excellence is only attainable by painstaking laborionsness, frequency of repetition,
JutdMeqaired Mccwracf, skiU, and aptness. The acquirement of the happy choice of terms,
ihemren toaaoinjr and Melectntu of pfanaaokgy, the ezq^oisito tocmic^ and precision, as
RHBTORIC. — 2IO. I.
veO as figrvefal brevity of exprasnon, the meiodioas harmony and pointed appropriateness
of <fi€tkHi for which all great aathora are remarkable, moat be, in a great measure, tb*
nsoit <£ patiently-conducted toi], carafully-directed and aasidaooBly-pnrsaed stody. It is
Bot Genins bat Mediocrity that finds restraint galling; and the reason of this espeeial
&gii5t which Mediocrity affects fbr the trommds of system, may be found, in some in*
ictuuses, in the self-sophistry of the idler and the sloven ; in others, in the mistaken idea thaft
vitsterer in onintelligible is necessarily profound ; in all, however, the chief reason is, that
sdentific syetematicality is the sworn foe of ambiguous, incongruous, and mystically oracular
P^^^^^^<^} '^ carelessness and extniva^nce of diction, and of opacity and dinjointed
n[|:€n»s]on, and is distinctly hostile to the inflated and jejune conglomeration of wofds
vinch Mediocrity would fainly beUere to be ** fine writing." Such writers do not believe
that ** the greatest art is shown in concealing art," but that the greatest art is shown in
bm? no art at alL There cannot be a greater mistake. The great thoughtsman must
do inth his ideas what Domenichino is reported to have said he did with regard to his
petiues, ^ I am continnally painting them within myself." If
" Speedk ii the golden harvest that foUoweth the flowering of thought,"
k mnst only come when thought is in its Invest state of cultivation, maturity, and
penfoetiQn; and it must require patient toil, perseverance, and self-denial so to cultivate
ad Biatiire it. If^ however, it require these, it must needs be tlie result of art, and every
art implies a method or science. Just as the painter, by the close and vigorous application
d his mental powers to the drawing of geometrical figures, in order that he may gain cor-
nctceas, readiness, and accuracy of touch, fastidiously rejects even the slightest deficiency
Wnreen the ideal and the art-executed, and by the minutest and most paiubtaking
exsctneis, gradually acquires such harmony and naturalness of expression, that the whole
^ppean to the uninitiated eye, simple, easy, imconstrained, and artless; so ought the
«Q(ki*s thoagfat-painten to exercise, to educate, and to habituate themselves. "La
veritable floqucnce suppose rexercice du g^nie et la culture de Tesprit." *
We are not adnnrers of **tliat glib and oily art " — that studious aiming at the productioa
«f jrrttirwBifiB and pettinesses — that exhibition of the gift of fluent speech,
" And bow to talk about it and about it,
Thoughts brisk OS bees, and pathos soft and thawy,"
sc which some afEisctationists aim ; nor yet of that bare, bleak, barren style of writing, in
vhidi there is no play of the imagination or the fancy, but where all is as plain, as unor-
•aaammmA^y^ juj^ ^s dij as a series of mathematical demonstrations; but we do admire that
Bode of composition which, while it instructs the intellect, warms the heart, and calls the
ideal imo life and being — which is clear, precise, unambiguous, easy, and expressive,
4«
Witl^ heie and there a violet bestrewn " —
viuch is the resnlt of the action of Genius disciplined by Taste and cultured by Common
the coDJoiBt and eoncurrent exertion of the deliberative understanding, the
• «''
nm siapMiiii AipffiiB <ft# dtev^^o/'tha t$$im and the oultun of the ndnA:*— Bnf^n.
RHXTORIC. — NO. I.
intuitiTe perceptivitj of the mind, xind the emotions of the beautiful and the sublime. But
although this is the style of thought-expression which wo admire, we may be permitted
to remark, that we are not by any means desirous of insinuating that our own style is an
example of what we would wish others to acquire; so far is this from being the case, that
we eagerly, and as an act of justice to the science of which we are about to become the
expounders, seize this opportunity of disavowing such egotistical arrogance. We are
perfectly sensible of the peculiar vices of our own style, and excecdhigly anxious to
improve, refine, and chasiten it ; but a lung course of reading and of study, which involved
a characteristic mode of thinking, has so entwined this method of expression around our
mind, as a habit, that we find our thoughts so irrcsi^itibly fashioning for themselves the
vesture in which they desire to appear, that we are but faintly able to modify and alter
it as we could wish. Now, though we know that there is a common proverb whidi
asserts that ** Example is a superior instructor to Precept," yet we humbly hope, that as
we shaU bring forward specimens and illustrations culled from the most eminent of the
world's tlionghtsmen, the "conjuration and the mighty magic" of their names will far out-
balance the example offered by such humble, though earnest, Wisdom- worshippers as we.
At the same time, and once for all to dismiss personality, allow us to say, that it is not
absolutely necessary that an instructor should be in himself a perfect and unimpeachable
master of the art or science which he professes to teach; his duty is rather to have a
power of perceiving the perfect, understanding why it is so, explaining the rationale of that
art or science, and leading the mind to contemplate and admire the labours, discoveries,
and doctrines of the chief cultivators of that branch of knowledge or taste. Although,
therefore, we shall assert with Horace, that vrith regard to style
" Omne tulit punctom, qui miscuit utile duici/' *
and though the spirit of our teachings shall be similar to that of Lucian, who says, " Let
your style be neither vulgar nor pedantic, but such as the unlearned may comprehend, and
the scholar admire," yet we hope we sliall not be considered as at all implying that our
own manner of composing is faultless, but that our strictures may be appUcd to ourselves
as well as to others, and that no defects of ours should be considered as evidence of the
incompetency of such a systematic body of principles and rules as the science of Shetoric
supplies to aid, direct, restrain, improve, refine, and exalt. There is another objection
niged against the study of Rhetoric, which it behoves us to notice in an introductory paper
like the present, viz., that which regards Rhetoric as an ensnaring and insidious art, whose
object is, not to convince, persuade, or win the intellectual assent, but to stimulate the
affections or passions, captivate the taste, and by mere artifices of diction and arrange-
ment, by mere embellishments of mannor, to distract the mind, and disturb the equilibiium
of the intellect, — ^which considers Rhetoric as calculated to bo of use when we wish
*' To dash maturest counsels, and to make
The worse appear the better reason."
Ndw it is true, that when the teachings of Rhetorical science axe made the guides of our
^ "Ifeluueakctedererj point who has eombined tt» tNM^]l wUhUie Mpttn&Ajtr
BHBTOBia-^aO. I.
fCKtKc, it beoomes an instramental art, and, like all other arts, it maj be employed for
t^ acfflmpjirfiment of deleteriona purposes, and tlie gaining of improper ends. This ad-
s^aoL, boverer, instead of being r^arded as a satisfactory reason for neglecting this
s^jf «jgbt rather to make ns determine to *
" Smack of obnervation ;
Whidi, though I will not praetise to deoeire,
Yet to avoid deodt, I mean to learn."
Tail is a nise resolve; for to understand the frandolent arts which may be employed, is
th^ hest yny of guarding against being misled, cajoled, or deluded, at the same time that
t9rh X knoirledge wiU enable ns to detect and ezjxise the party who makes use of words
viiidt are merely dothed in Beason s garb, which are merely the spurions counterfeits of
tntb sid visdom.
£xp«»iiMi is a power — ^a power which all should strive to make their owu. There
x:? rofn nhose leasodi can scan the wide-spread hemijiphere of truth ; who can feel the
nptsi^ ai^ the joy of thooght-conception; who can for a time imagine themselves eman-
cipated from their prison-house of clay, but who are unable to give an account of the
i^^irliti rfaich stir within tbem, of the mighty joys which they have felt. These are
csmb pr^ets — non-conductors of the sacred electricity of thought; idea-recipients, whose
t^ have been sealed by the finger of Silence ; men who can read the oracles of heaven,
t3t in incapable of translating them into the dialect of this nether earth. Thus the great
^^^^ (jf their being remains unaccomplished, simply because of the want of that self-
trJiuBf by which Genius is enabled to bring from the mount of inspiration the burden of
*-ii celf^sdal harmonies, and make them audible to our " unpnrged ears." But thongh
^i^t-expres^on is a power worthy of being anxiously striven for, and sedulously
^nteil when attained, yet, it must be admitted, that there is a seductive influence
^^entlj broaght to bear upon those who have attained a masterful skill in this splendid
^1. wtich oo^ht carefully to be avoided, viz., the likelihood of loving, thirsting after, and
p^r^obj^^ present applause and honour, unmindfal of the tme dignity and utility of the
vt, ri the true glory of one who devotes his powers, energies, and acquisitions, to the
"Nation and euDoblement of hnmanity. Such ought to be the object which every student
^Bbptoric shoold have before him in his study of the subject; at the same time, we must
*^ssBt that this is not one of the essential characteristics of Rhetorical art; in itself it haa
^ rmnl nature. The object of speech is to express thought so as to convince, persuade,
^ bead the minda of others to purposes of our own; the application of this power for
t^M or evil depeoda, therefore, not on the science of expression, but on the nature of the
%sd vfaidt makes tise of this instmmentality. If that mind be subdued to truth, if it be
f^hnsi with a sense of moral duty, it will be sincere, virtuous, and truth-loving, and this
btnanent will be mighty and powerful for good and virtuous results. If, on the
f^ntruy, the mind be under the d(»ninion of falsehood, if it be not under the guardianship
i the moral sense, then it will be insincere, hypocritical, and disregardfol of truth or
'^tecoaiess, and the knowledge which this science yields will be artfully employed in the
'^^v&cn. of the good and the true, in the propagation of error, falsehood, and wrong. But
^ viU this be attempted? Kot by the unblushing avowal of its purpose, but by the
^^'^^visg cf weajWM and dress from the arsenal and wardrobe of Truth; and in this
C, mnn«»;:i< . —no. t.
liyiiocriliuil bfUiblaiKi* — u litiiion in the 4li.>guifto ot "an uiigel oi lii^iit" — going I'orth on
m warfioB in which Tlrath is attacked and impugned bj one who represents himself as th«
davv>ted- ierwit of Troth. That Eloquence ma j be prostitnted to an improper end — ^that it
maj be employed in thb service of Tice and of falsehood — that it may be degraded to act aa
the advocate of injostice — that it may ronse, inilame, and agitato the passions, and add
the tremor, the delirium, the madness, and the imbmted fnry of the evil principles of
human nature, to the* misguided and misinformed intelligences of certain classes of men —
are no arguments against the study of Rhetoric, but rather motives to spread more widely
and generally a knowledge of the subject, so that art may be met by art, and hence the
evil influence of art be rendered of " none cfTect.** But the chief and paramount
Teason far the study of Blietoric is, that by applying principles of philosophical obser-
vation to the objects vhich impress and influence the finer, the nobler, the more
exalted faculties of the mind, we may leom tlic laws which they follow, and employ
itmilar means to produce similar phenomena. By having a knowledge of these laws, we
aia enabled to canform our own compositions, to a certain extent, to their dictates, as well
as to use them as means of judging of the performances of others; to habituate the mind
to the artistical execution of its aims, and to the analyzation of the principles upon which
the mind feels, judges, and decides; and thus nve impart to our own endeavours the
SKuracy oiid elevation of pliilosophy, while to philosophy we add the fluency, the attract-
iveness, and grace cf the fancy and imaginaticHi, and both are gainers by the interchange.
In this point of view it seems one of that series of studies which is impUed in mind-culture,
•ad which it is absolutely necessary that every one should study, whose object it is to
employ language accurately in the expression of thought, and to employ the chief instru-
ment which he has for conveying the ideas which arise in him to the intellectual and
immortal spirits by which he is surrounded.
Bhetoric, according to the view of it which will be presented in the following papers,
may be defined as the Sciesce which instructs us how we may best impart information,
<fi«ct conviction, induce persuasion, and communicate delight, as well as the Art of
employing language most efficiently for tlte accomplishment of these purposes.
Grammar is the science which informs ns how to inflect words correctly, collocate them
properly, and arrange them methodically. Logic teaches us how to reason accurately;
md Blietoric enables us so to exhibit our thoughts to others as shall most certainly effectuate
the end which we purpose to ourselves in speaking.
It win appear from the above-given defmition, that there are several acti^-ities of the
mind to be operated upon and excited, viz., the Intellect, the Imagination, and the Emotions,
and that ihe excitative agencies which are to be employed in the accampUshment of theso
porpoaea are words —
"The punkm-winged ministers of thought.**
Our attention, therefore, in our next paper, will be directed to the consideration of the
inatrument of Thought-intercommunication and Language — that agency by which th(*
tnnsient thoughts and words of men are jireserved, embahned, and treasured up in
jSafpaifhahJe agns.
B BOMOraPATHT TBCE IV PRINCIPLE AND BENEFICIAL IE PRACncW?
:]^ljiinsn}i|n(.
IS HOMCEOPATHT TRUE IN PRINCIPLE AND BENEFICIAL IN PRACTICE ?
AFFIRMATIVE ABTICLE.— I.
HoMCEOPATHT u thc Dame by which we
DDdrrstanil the discovery of n kw of nature,
bv the application of which, not only uctimi
&Mif:e2> cjtn bo nulically cured, but the pre-
di^posin; cans** of disease detected and enidi-
caled. si> tliat itfi actirt development may
ht prevozitiHi. I say a discovery^ but by thu»
I only uadenstand that a fixed principle,
SiXvadT known and ap{^ed in a limited
ff^ert. was di;3covered to posses a nniver-
Mlirr. and was brought to bear upon all
jjmc'- id disease. HoDK»>pathy, by reject-
iog meaas and sobstances wliich act detri-
mentally upon the nervous system, and tend
to exhaust the essential energy, without
vliich vitality sinks ; by reguhitiug the pro-
TBioo of aliment, from which it discards all
sordicinal and stimulating substances; by
stt«Ddin;; to the general hygiene, and by
nupk^ying scpecifir remedies against the dis-
ordtTs a1re:idy in active pn^gresa, has the
povf-r of obviating and of eradicating thc
pTrdisprjiting cause itself, and of effecting the
tdtimate cxire and emancipation of mankind
frtxR Ukiily ills, and cmisequcntly from men-
tal dL«onUrrs which arise out of them as sym-
pathetic resolts. Indeed man was ordained
by nature to suffer. His ills were acquired
thnxigh ignorance^ that original sin. Science,
however, it is felt, will free him eventually
frr-fn those snfierings, to which his own folly
sad superstition have hitherto made him the
nvurtyr. I have already fully cx])laincd
tat«e things in my paper on thc Predis-
poeing Causes of Disease, publislied in the
**PinQ«er,^ No. 14, and the "Hahneman-
oiu Fly Sheet,** Nos. 18, 20, and 21.
flrcnompathy, besides the benefits above
Asted, has the merit of making the physi-
cian more attentive to the exact considcra-
tiiiB of the symptoms of disease (hitherto
aomewhat neglected in the investigation),
bv which disiHues are more systematically
Atfingniahed, It also leads him to insist
such immense doses of promiscuous drugs as
were heretofore given, to the great detriment
of all constitutions, and more especially of
those whose natural weakness rendered them
more constantly the subjects of such treat-
ment, whilst it deprived them of the energy
to expel the mischief thus incurred. It
leads to a more certain testing and acquaint-
ance with the specific properties of m^cine,
and it has promoted much valuable investiga-
tion into the province of the Materia Medica.
It avails itself of numerous agents, which are,
when connninuted, all-powerful for good, but
which were hitherto believed to be inert. It
introduces more simplicity in the dispensing
of prescriptions. It directs more attentfon
to the preparation of medicine, and keeps a
strict watch on the ajK»thccaries. /Tofmsop-
(Uhy will in no cote do positive injury ; it
gives the system more time to rest, and re-
cover itself undisturbed; and both from the
definite nature of its tn'atment, and the
security and the brevity which characterizes
it, it inmiensely decreases the expenses of
cure.
The founder of this beneficial method
of cure raih«'d himself by his genius and
benevolence to the highest eminence as a
benefactor of mankind. Samuel Christian
Fncdrich Uahnemaim was born at Meissen;
was educated at Leipzig and Vienna; took
the degree of Doctor of Medicine at Er-
langen in 1799; discovered and published
his method in 1810; translated Zrolm, En^
litkj French^ and Italian works of science;
wrote in Latin and his own (the German')
language seventy-nine scientific works, fi^
had an immense practice, and ended Ida
useful and gloritjus life on thc 2nd of July,
1843, in full poshesi<ion of powerful intellect,
and at the advanced age of eighty-nine.
The principle of cure proclaimed by him,
" Similia similibvs curantWy* signifies, ad-
minister for the pur})08c of cure the medicilie
i^oB his patienti attending more pBrticn-l which produces on the healthy AuV>jeiet \)be
Iniy to tbe ni3# of diet Jt Juu sJrcadjr group o£ symptoms the mostsixmUt to \i!h«e
^ mutfpbjmdMiu tbe mm-aecesatjr of j produced by diaeosc. The era d tiiVft V«ar
8
IS HOM<EOPATHT TRUE 119 PRU9C1PLE AND BENEFICIAL IN PRACTICE?
liont discovery is scarcely forty years distant,
and it has already ceased to be a novelty.
None of the medical schools number so many
conscientious adherents; it is practised in
all civilized countries ; it has its repre-
sentatives in every part of the globe, and its
diMi>ensaries and hospitals in most of the
capitals and larger towns of Europe and
America. The works treating of Homoeop-
athy are sufficient to fill libraries ; and the
most remarkable feature in them is, that
they are all the development of the same
principle, and have nothing common with
thw^e sad and fatal debaucheries of imagina-
tion which have rendered the medical pro-
fession an object of ridicule for philosophers,
and of deception and distrust for the com-
munity. Homceopathy has no theory but
the logic of facts — no principle but the law
of nature; it is as evident as an axiom in
geometry, and as certain as the law of gra-
vitation and rotation of the globe. Homoeop-
athy has rendered all dangerous disease
amenable to the salutary action of its reme-
dies. It is now well tested, and constitutes
the only real method of effectually treating
all disorders to which the animal organism
in general is subject. Homoeopathy has the
power, not only of curing, but of effectually
preventing, by its apecifics^ many disorders
called Epidemic, namely, small-pox, scar-
latina, measles, typhus fever, cholera, hy-
drophobia, &c. Homoeopathic practitioners,
endowed by Hahnemann with the knowledge
of the origin of chronic diseases, and the
mode of treatment to which they arc speci-
fically subject, possess the means to eradicate
and to prevent them ; they make use of the
same remedies that other schools do, and
differ from them only in their method of
preparation, dose, and application. All the
so-called sepatxUe systems for the cure of
diseases, namely. Hydropathy, Mesmerism,
Galvanism, &c., arc all subservient to the
same law of nature upon which Homoeopathy
is based; and it is worthy of remark that
they arc all only effectual when applied
according to that law. Homoeopathic prac-
ritioners reject no reasonable method of
treatment — no method of treatment by which
they incur no risk of unforeseen mischief;
they use all these medical auxiliaries when
they are Homoeopathically indicated. As to
the proofs of the efiicacy of Homoeopathy,
these are now a mere matter of statistics;
our hospitals, dispensaries, private establixh-
mcnts, and our books, are all open to inquiry.
G. v., M.D.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
Public attention has, of late, been much
arrested by a serious commotion in the
medical world; the convulsive throes which
agitated the community, like the periodical
ebullitions which disturb nations, served to
betoken the advent of some great revolu-
tionary movement But, alas! it was only
a verification of the old quotation — " Par-
turiwU monieSf et nascititr ridictdus musJ*
Like the frogs in the fable, the wonder and
respect early developed for the new comer,
speedily yielded to feelings of mrat undis-
guised contempt. Upon investigation, it
was discovered that a German apothecary,
named Hahnemann, had introduced a new
method of treating diseases ; after consulting
popular taste, and finding it decidedly pre-
judiced against the nauseous draughts and
boluses which the old-fashioned medical men
80 liberally administered, he professed to
Asrv iarented what he denominated the
J^*^^ Theory; that is, inatnd of giving
J^^ bjr tbe dozen, like MoriaoB and C<^
and the other champions of quack systems,
he prescribed infinitesimal doses, treating
cases of the most complicated character
by the employment of the trillionth or de-
cillionth of a graui of substances which
previously had been considered utterly in-
efficacious.
There is no doubt that the great anxiety
which many members of the profession have
evinced to crush the new system has nuunly
contributed to bring it more openly before
the notice of the public. Had a more judi-
cious course of proceeding been adopted, had
Legitimate Medicine stood undaunted upon
her own truthful basis, instead of having to
treat the nuisance as a sturdy opponent, it
might have been introduced still- bom into
the world, and forthwith consigned, with its
most illustrious progenitor, to that most ap-
propriate domain in the regions of space —
the limbo of fools. Yet, notwithstanding, we
cannot but be astonished at the progress
which the iMraiy hsa timA^^ vA i(% \MX\«t%
B HOMaX>PATHT TRUE » PRI5CIPLB AND BENEFICIAL DT PRACTICE?
tbit tike readiest mode of acoonnting for it
is m tlve following meaner* —
Hie scknce of medidne has always been
in acrance of the age; indeed, hitherto it
was impoesihie it oonld hare be<m otherwise:
tile empTTical approsumations of onr fore-
fathers to tlM tme light, only led them more
carpfullj to Teil from Tnlgar eyes, by mystic
pnocesses and cabalistic combinations, the
vKidn^xs knowledge they professed to have
a>:^uired. Bat latterly it has been different.
lh« partial insight into the working of
Biturv a laws, which the many now acquire
as put of an erery-day education, has pro-
iloi^ed its ineritable consequences. They
liaTe b«en awakened to the realization of the
pQs.*«sion of ft power, and that power they
ST? lictermined to exert to the fullest extent
ill criticising both men and principles. A
asm freU ill, a little of what he calls bilions-
cej&; he is not going to send for a physician;
n<v, he'll ''physic himself.** If he has a
^aln of common sense he takes a purging
dninj^bt, and gets well; but, perhaps, he
diltkles a little in science, and thinks he
luu a right to exercise his own judgment;
he kaa hcArd of some specific, some nostrum
vith a wondrous long name, to which the
usual appendage of peUhy is affixed; he
'in.bib» the dose, whatever it nuy be, and if
c-LT^d. well and good, another testimonial for
the ecracy of the remedy; if it prove of no
^Tia. there are five hundred good reasons
vbkh can be produced to account for its
fiuhxre, and he goes the round of advertise-
menu again, in hopeful expectancy of dis-
tfirerins the true panacea.
Xow. we hare pictured no tmcommon case.
Look at the colimms of our papers and peri-
odicals; there are few, if any, well- certified
CMTMuc coMs of core, and even these may
le easily accounted for by the very simplest
euses. Bnt to the point. Homoeopathy is
our mbject for the present, and we will deal
vith it as plainly and concisely as possible.
There are three fimdamental methods of
rare — the Allopathic, the Antipathic, and
tke HooNBopathic. The two first of these
art eoBstantly employed by eveiy practitioner
ia the kingdom; the hut is a system which,
• aanj aeooonts, deservedly ranks apart
Hm an odMfB.
The apborim, '^SumUa nmiUhw eynm-
^* 'm^Jtm}mm9 ^ibe wAoJe Abric. **Uke
tbt Mmmw/fug ia tie
action of complex medicaments, no less than
in the use of the simpler therapeutic agents :
to reduce a plethoric constitution, prescribe
rich viands, and plenty of them ; to cure the
dropsy, drown your patient with water!
These are obviously fair deductions ; a great
principle, if correct in a single enunciation,
may be under the same circumstances apt*
plied, without fear of error, to more than one.
But the Homoeopathist may answer, " Yon
acknowledge this truth in many of the com-
mon affairs of life; the application of snow
to frost-bitten 'psats restores the circulation,
and in bums or scalds we relieve the pain
by exposure to the affecting cause, or heat."
Doubtless wo do; but who would immerse a
snow-nipped member in spirit, or submit to
the dull cold of an evaporating moisture,
and expect relief? Are there not other
remedies to be applied to a scalded hand of
a more soothing nature than to hold it by a
scorching fire ?
But even granting all this, are we to adopt
uncompromisingly an hypothesis founded
upon imperfect deductions from a few simple
facts, when the evcry-day experience of the
commonest practitioner is directly at variance
with its fundamental laws? Some of our
most potent medicines are far from being
Homotwpathic in their action or character;
agents which destroy the Acacus Scabiei, or
itch insect, are incapable of developing that
disease. Medicines which cure intermittent
fever, if taken in sufiicient quantity, will
develop, not remitting, but constant fever —
forms of disease, it must be remembered, dif-
fering considerably from each other. We
could multiply coses of the same description
without number, but the inaccuracy b evident.
The claim to originality in the treatment
set up by the Homceopathists is no less un-
founded than their other assumptions; it
has been practised to a certain extent from
the earliest times, and is suggested by the
common sense of every person who gives the
subject a moment's consideration. A man
has a tendency to vomit; by tickling the
fancy the object is attained, the stomach is
relieved. Excessive stimulus, either of meat
or drink, produces internal irritation; we
combat the disease by increasing that irrita-
tion to assist the expulsion of the offendixv^
^ I matter,
y But even admitting their thetv^v^^^
I treatment to be feasible, or peihape «^'<«iii^
10
IS HOMOEOPIXHT TBUE Uf PRINCIPLE AND BEinSPICIAL DT PRACTICE?
blfl, we must protest most emphatically
•gainiit the globnlar part of the business,
and refuse onr credence to a theory whioli
would fain persuade us that the effect is in
an inverse ratio to the cause ;^ that though
an atom too small for estimation will work
the most wonderful resultSf dozens of such
atoms would pass through the system with-
out effect. Is it not the acme of absurdity
for one moment to suppose that substances
which even when administered in copious
doses hardly prove efficient, when diminuted
b^x>nd the perception of our most refined
senses, produce cures more than miraculous?
Fancy the ignorance of the man who will
assert that he can empirically prognosticate
the action and effects of an agent, which
but the nicest analyses of a Herapath could
detect, and of whose actual presence the
prescriber himself could give you not the
faintest shadow of a proof I We do not
despair some day of lighting upon an ad-
vertisement offering to feed large union or
convict establishments upon the Homccopa-
thic principle (pity they could not include
the clothing too!) ; or provision packets for
Marching squadrons, warranted not to weigh
more than a few ounces!
A medical man may carry the whole
Pharmacopcna about in his pocket ; nor do we
«ee any reason why a patient should not
make assurance doubly sure, and swallow all
of it in a single dose, diluted to the x^ — 1
«xtent. We beg to adduce a few specimens
4lf the Homoeopathic doses : —
Charcoal, 2 decillionths of a grain!
Opium, 2 decillionths of a drop of a
spirituous solution!!
Nutmeg, 2 millionths of a grain!!!
Our readers may think that we are joking ;
we were never in more sober Mmest. Any
one who has a spare half hour to throw
away in perusing the treatises on the sys-
tem * may satisfy himself of the truth of
«ar assertions. In the French edition of
Hahnamanns Materia Medico, no less than
45 octavo pages are devoted to the state-
ments o{ 720 tfpnptomi produced by the one-
miUwnth qf a gram of fftgetable cJiarcoal!
Among the many effects ascribed to this
«^nt we find, " Uching of the internal angle
ijfike hft ege ;" " itching of a vart on the
* ^mhnemmnn'B orgmnn; Dr. Guin's "
warm JIaiaaBapmthiea, " Ac
I%annQ-
^ft fnger ;" " repugnance for butter ;"
** epeedy loss of appetite by eating^ &c., &c.
Many of its observations are filthy and
obscene.
Shades of Hippocrates and Galen ! if ye
could but re-visit the degenerate followers of
your mighty selves, and view the unfathom-
able abyss into which they have madly
plunged the science whose birth ye cherished,
and whose cradle ye rocked, would not your
venerable old faces flush with resentment at
the arrogant presumptions of the motley
crew, and hnsten to sever, in an agony of
disgust, the links which connect your great
names with a profession wliich dcsphies and
rejects your teachings?
The ordeal of experiment, no less than the
tribunal of theory, lias demonstrated the
utter fallacy of the globulistic views ; some
of the members of the Academie de Medecine
experienced, after repeated attempts, nothing
but repeated failures. Andral tried it «n
130 or 140 patients, in the presence of the
Uomceopathists themselves, yet in but a
single case was he successful. The claims
of imposture were unable to stand the search-
ing test of science.
But we have a more serious charge to pre-
fer against the supporters of the system, and
one which we would in truth believe to be
applicable only to a contemptible minority.
When the sacred office of the pastor is de-
based by the introduction of the things of
time and sense; when the inspired words of
the Deity are invoked to sanctify the claims
of a question purely scientific, the duty of
the literary qucstor is then past; uncompro-
mising rebuke is the only resource. We
allude to a recent sermon preached with the
direct object of explaining and substan-
tiating by proof from holy writ the views of
Homoiopatfay, and published in a medical
journal of the day. We feel that the de-
mands of our duty are satisfied by the mere
notice of the subject; it is unnecessary to
shock the feelings of our readers by delaying
longer upon it.
The true means of resistance to the on-
ward progress of Homoeopathic and other
absurdities are in the hands of the profession
itself: ignorance of the laws of Physiology
and Pathology clings like the gloomy mantle
of night around the openiDg path of medical
science. The existence in its ranks of men
exerciun(^ its lajitonona axH*, «ivim«hiin|^
18 TDS BBTIBH OHURCJH AP09T0UC AHD JHDXPEVDnrT?
U
hi w^oDS potent no leu to deftractioo
t^ to sftlmtioa, to whom its foBdaroental
tntiit an «• aqgnuUical aa the riddles of
tk Sfibinx, amplj account for the rajud
itiides of aedition so recentlj manifested
Msnyt its adherents We finnlj believe,
tbat notil the unclean thing is weeded oat
iHt and bnmch, and the caatexy be applied
to the affiKtcd parta, the contagion will
ip«ad, and gather m it goes. We maj con-
dade in the words of the most eminent phj-
adogicsl chemist* of our day, who writes:
Bam different! J would the treatment of
be conducted if we had perfectly
* liebip's ** Letters on Chemistry/' p. 13.
dear notions of the processes of digestion,
assimilation, and secretion. Without jnat
TiewB of force, cause, and effect — without a
dear view into the vexy essence of natural
phenomoia — without a solid physiological
and chemical education, is it to be wondered
at that men, in otlier respects rational,
should defend the most absurd notions; that
the doctrines of Hahnemann should preyul
in Germany, and find dibciples in all coun-
tries? Season alone will not prevent whole
nations from falling into the most abject
superstitions; whilst even a child, whose
mind lias been duly developed and in-
structed, will repudiate the fear of ghosts
and hobgoblins." Vinclum.
33ifitim[.
CAX THE APOSTOLIC ORIGIN AND NATIONAL INDEPENDENCE OF THE
BRITISH CHURCH BE PROVED?
NKGATITE ARTICLE— I.
far dieonng this aide in the present dis-
mdflo, we cannot be deemed guilty of
actinf[ from an impulse of bitterness or
hntifity against the English Church, be-
caoK we love that communion, and our
naaie b enrolled among its members But
those who know most of men and things,
how often it happens that great
contain numerous individuals, who
amgate for their peculiar institution such
pnoud titles and claims aa would be instantly
leveled by the more sober members. We
lejoioe, then, to have the opportunity to
neovd eor vwdict against the proud assnmp-
'tioB vhidi many Churchmen have claimed
hr oor bdoved church. Nor are we deterred
our humble conviction by the
assumes kingly airs, his compeers ask him
to show his credentials, and make known his
antecedents. So is it with churches. When
any one church arrogates to herself a proud
pre-eminence above all kindred churches, she
at once challenges all reflecting minds to
inquire into the authority upon which she
pretends to establish her claims. Thns has
the harlot of Rome been hurled from the
proud pinnacle of her mundane glory. Her
besotted assumptions led inquiring minds to
ask after her credentials; those credentials
could not be found in the word of God, and
they indignantly rejected that foul system
of lies, and stamped Rome — " Babylon, the
foredoomed of God."
The proud claims now put forward by
that many great and good I High Churchmen lead us to inquire, where
are the proofs that the English Church is
the only apostolic church in this land. Com-
parisons are generally invidious, but when
we find one set of professing Christiana
striving to unchristianize every professing
sect who do not think with them, our duty —
nay, our interest — requires that we should.
examine the proofs such men adduce to volk^
tbst h xmj be javred whether I BtMo^te their «MertionB. VfelntlC««d,\]bM^
fh^kmMt^^rwauL ff'^ ^ ii^'rldaU / u noiiee M £ew oi the mmi 9^^
kavB tbon^it against us. No assump-
tisa can ever be substantiated by the num-
ber of men, howerer great, that may have
wpperted it: if it were thns, then would
dl iIm lying devices of Romanism be estab-
an imaanilahle foundation. The
•f aodetiti, as well as those of
be taken to the one noer-
12
CAN THB AP08T0UC ORIGIN AND NATIONAIi INDEPENDENCE
freqnentlj-addnced argaments brought for-
ward bj those who promnlge these claims.
The bishops are a favonrite pillar upon
which this proad pretension rests. " See,"
saj these men, " here are the veritable snc-
cessors of the apostles, and how can oar
church be any other than apostolic?" But
may not the Romanist nse the same argu-
ment with the same effect? If bishops
alone form a proof of apostolicitj, then
Teril; the Church of Rome is no apostate.
But we must examine the bishopft to find
out if they are worthy of being called the
apostles* successors. We are well aware,
that individual abuse is no argument against
a system ; but a system may be examined to
see if it bears the marks which justify its
pretensions. Compare the English bishops
and their pompous titles, their almost regal
splendour, and the palaces they inhabit, with
the estate of the twelve lowly men whom
they profess to succeed. Or read the fol-
lowing, and then determine whether the
English bishops give an apostolic essence to
the British Church : — ^** The elders which
are among you I exhort, who am also an
elder, and a witness of the sufferings of
Christ, and also a partaker of the glory
that shall be revealed: feed the flock of
God which is among you, taking the over-
sight thereof, not by constraint, but wil-
lingly; not ioT JUthy lucre^ but of a ready
mind; neither as being loixb over God's
heritage^ but being ensamples to the flock,"
1 Pet V. 1—3. Do the English bishops
present this picture? Have they ever done
80? Where, then, is this apostolic conduct?
Must not a man have the spirit of Christ to
be one of his? and must not a man have
the spirit and power of an apostle to be
apostolic?
Again, is there anything apostolic in be-
holding a bench of bishops filling the seats
of a i^islative hall? Is it following the
pattern of him who determined to know
nothing save Jesus and him crucified? Are
these remarks made in an invidious spirit?
They are not. We are now speaking of a
system which is put forward by High Church-
men as a proof that their church is the only
apostolic church in EngUnd. Our readers
must determine whether such proof be
warthj- (^ their reception : for ourselves, we
^^ MS macb »poatoUc proof in the lowly
-■^wiasr-^a*^ when no miUed-ooe ever
enters, but where the word and sacraments
are duly ministered, as is to be found in the
whole bench of bishops, with their appended
palaces and gorgeous cathedrals. They, and
they alone, are apostolic who worship that
Jesus whom the apostles preached, and who
draw their doctrine from the Book of Life.
Agiun, much stress is laid upon the inter-
minable chain of bishops there has been in
England ; but the same argument is as good
for Rome as for England. When were there
no bishops in the Romish Church? And are
we to believe that church to be apostolic
because she can point to a line of bishops?
Surely, surely, something more than a line
of bishops is needed before we can account
the horrors of the inquisition and the ini-
quities of the confessional holy and apostolic!
The Church of Rome has her interminable
chain of bishops, but she has, for ages, lost
any claim to be called apostolic; conse-
quently, a line of bishops does not impart
an apostolic character — ergo^ the English
Church cannot found her claim upon her suc-
cession of bishops.
That the Church of England has no right
to an exclusive title of apostolicity may be
seen by her departure from apostolic usage.
We are not going to determine whether the
primitive Christians had bishops or not; of
this we are certain — if they had, they were
as unlike the bishops of the present day as
two things can well be. But we shall show
that, if they had bishops, our present system
of creating bishops is altogther unapostolic
In the first chapter of Acts we find, that when
the place of the traitor apostate had to be filled
up by another apostle, he was not sclecteid
at the will of a few, but the whole church
had the electing of the same : and tliis was
ever the custom when a christian chnreh as-
sembled, until spiritual tyrants raised their
head in the militant church of Christ. ** In
those early times, every christian church
consisted of the people, tlieir leaders, and the
ministers and deacons; and these, indeed,
belong essentially to every religious society.
The people were, undoubtedly, the first in
authority ; for the apostles showed, by thetr
own example, that nothing of moment was
to be carried on or determined without the
consent of the assembly,* and such a method
of proceeding was both prudent and neces-
OF THE BBITIBB CHUBCH BB PBOYED?
13
sary la those critical times. It wot, there"
fort, the asmmbiy of the people which ckote
ikdr^vnndenamdieachen^or received them
&y a free ami authoritative consent^ when
recomemded by others. The same people
rejected or ooofimied, bj their suflfrages, the
lavs that were proposed bj their rulers to
the usemUj ; ezcommixnicated proflif^ate and
ixnwvtbj members of the church." — Vide
Moei^m, 1st CenL ^A bishop, dnring the first
aod Eecond centuries, was a person who had
the ctxre of ons christian assembly ^ which,
at that time, was, generallj speaking, small
cooof h to be contained in a private house.
In this assembljr he acted, not so much witli
the antboritj ^ a master^ as with the zeal
and dilierence of a faithful servant" — Mo-
gheim, 1#< CetU. Such was the usage in the
af»frtolie times. Compare tlie present prac-
tice of selecting Ushops by the ruling au-
tbc-rity, and the utter want of authority by
the laitT in the Church of England, with the
«sa?e of some of the sects, and determine
which is nearest to the apostolic.
Some injudicious Churchmen fancy that
their cathedral pcHnp, and their form of
prayer, stamp their church with an apos-
tolic impress; no words are needed to prove
tbe fallacy of such an argument.
Ibe way by which a cure of souls is ob-
tained in the Church of England prevents
her members from supposing that she is
man apostolic than her neighbours. Can it
be apc0t4^ to purchase what is termed a
firing? Again, can it be apostolic that
sane christian ministers should have their
thoosands, and do but little work, while
nunbers of earnest, devoted men hardly
receive a snbsistence for their dependants?
Would not the apostles scorn to have their
Banses attadied to any system which would
allow sach an nnfair distribution of this
world's wealth among a community of pro-
fiuatd brethren? Verily, Churchman as I
am, I blnsh to think that the sects are
extremely more apostolic in this very essen-
tial thing.
Again, what b there apostolic in the pro-
kflHtioo which preveuta episcopalian ministers
fton preaching in nnconsecrated places of
warship? What part of the writings of tho
sfostlas win wanrant bishops in preventing
p)Oj anaulef* from preaching in a diocese
becaaa tbey do aei hold all the opnionf
thcr
But the Church of England is wrong in
affirming that she can trace her descent
from the apostles. High Churchmen ar«
very bold in proclaiming that the Anglo
Church is not an offshoot from Rome. Thus
wrote Gresley : — ^" We have undoubted his-
torical evidence of the existence of a pure
branch of the church universal, governed by
bishops, and possessing all the marks of a
true church from the earliest time. If not
founded by one of the apostles, still no doubt
was ever entertained that the bishops of the
ancient British Church derived their order
from them in a regular manner. At the
time of the Saxon invasion, • the British
Church was much oppressed ; but when the
Saxons themselves Lad been converted by
the mission of Augustin, the two churches,
that is to say, the ancient British and the
Saxon, gradually coalesced into one, and,
whether we trace the succession of our
ministry through St. Augustin, who received
his orders from the Gallican Church, or
through the ancient British line, the fact of
their being duly ordained and descended
from the apostles, and so from Christ, is
undeniable.'** Here we see that this writer
is obliged to trace the descent of the English
Church from B(>me : for it is a mere sophistry
to speak of the British Church after she suc-
cumbed to Rome; when she submitted to
receive the dogmas and rule of Rome, she
at once threw uside her identity, and ignored
her existence as an independent church.
What, then, is the inference? Must we not
see that our English Church is only a par-
tially reformed church that sprung from the
bowels of Itome? And can anything aposto-
lic be bom from the corruptions of Rome?
It is sophistry to speak of descending from
the British Church, when that church be-
came lost in succumbing to Rome. With
regard to what Gresley states concerning
bishops, we refer to what we hare stated
above in refutation of his sophistries.
It is painful to hear mere tyros in theol-
<^y, who have just received episcopal ordi-
nation, vaunting about their apostolical de-
scent, and with their childish arguments
striving to unchristianize those venerable
men who, for a long series of years, under
Dissenting banners, have been lighting the
IfMttlea of the Lord, and have \)eeu \n&Vx\)L-
• « Sngliah Churoh."
14
CAK THE AFOSTOUC ORIGIN AND NATIONAL INDBPENDENCE
mental in gathering in manj sools to the
fidd of Christ. Many times have we blushed
finr the honour of our church to hear thme
boj8 prate. What has God done by the in-
atnunentality of Churchmen that he has not
done by the instrumentality of Dissenters?
Have the isUnds of the sea been reclaimed
from the night of dark superstition; Dis-
senters were instrumental in ejecting the
same. Where is there a herald of the cross,
and the sects not represented there? Look
on the right hand and on the left, to the
north and to the south, and there you may
see the blessing of God stamped as freely
upon tlie labours of the Dissenter as upon
those of the Churchman. Would this be so
if Dissenters were not as apostolic as the
Churchmen? Take away the bishops from
tile English Church, and a few non-essential
xites and ceremonies, and what does she
contain that is apostolic which christian
Dissenters hold not? They have the word
and the sacraments and an ordained minis-
try—ordained more in accordance with apos-
tolic usage than the ministers of our own
church. How vain, how childish, then, it
is for Churchmen to arrogate to themselves
titles and powers which are not warranted in
fact! When, oh! when, will all tme Chris-
tians unweave the webs of sophistry which
now divide them, and minghng in one har>
monious whole, determine to drop all un-
meaning and senseless shibboleths, and strive
only to adorn and extend the dominion of
Christ?
One word only is needful to show that Use
Church of England is not independent.
Can that be free which is held in thrall by
any other power? Acts of Parliament de-
cide for the Church of England, and by
those acts she cannot, of her own free will,
amend or alter any of her laws. If her
sons discover the symptoms of Popery in her
constitution, they cannot at once get rid of
the same, but they must wait until it pleases
Queen, Lords, and Commons, to permit
them to expunge the same. Hence, then,
the Church of England is not free.
We have now brought our article to a
conclusion; and if any can point out the
fallacy of our argument, or the incorrectness
of our statements, we shall thank them for
, their service. One thing we long to see,
viz., truth triumphant, and eiror thrown
down.
W. T.
AFFIRMATIVE AETICLE.— I.
This question naturally admits of a two-
fold division. We shall in thi<$ article con-
sider the first part, viz.: — ^'^The Apostolic
Origin of the British Church." In order to
simplify the subject, we shall endeavour to
prove, first, That ths British Church was
Jbundedj not only during ths lifetime of the
Apostles, but by an Apostle or Apostles in
person! secondly, That St, Paul wis its
Jbunder.*
First, some of the evidence that the
British Church was of Apostolic Origin.
That it was the case is highly probable,
from many considerations. First, from the
very easy and frequent intercourse between
Britain and Borne during the lifetime of the
apostles; and secondly, and more especially,
from the vast number, not only of Roman,
Imt other fmeigners, trafficking in Britain,
mtUed in Britain, and serving m the armies
of Britain.
^T.^^ _«rrtear is indebted to many works, but
J'^'^^cuJmHr to Fcfm'a "MisgUst Ciiuivh."
Some few years after the subjugation of
this island to the imperial sceptre, we find
that there were so many foreigners in Bri-
tain, that in one year (a.d. 61) no less than
70,000 of them perished in an insurrection
of the natives. At this time, too, so popu-
lous and rich a mart was London, that it is
recorded of Seneca, the philosopher, that he
amassed property in the island amounting
in the lowest calculation to £300,000. At
this period we learn from sacied and pnofisne
history, that Christianity spread *^mightilf
abroad " in the worid. At Itome there were
zealous Christians, even in the palace ; for
St. Paul, writing from Rome to the Phi-
lippians (iv. 22), says, "All the saints salute
you, chiefly they that are of Ciesar's house-
hold." That Christianity must have taken
deep root in Rome is a natural inference.
Heathen history tells us, that in the reign
of Nero, about aj>. 64, when by public d»>
crees search was made for the Christians,
" Vast, indeed, was 0te multitude which was
apipreJiefided qf tlutf ]per«MiQM% weit^ as
OF THE BBinSH CHURCO BE PROVED?
15
Taeitaft and otfaen called the Christians.
^Sbm. wt of the numbers of Britoos whom
or other caoaes would bring to
can wa suppose that none of them
oooTCfted to Christianitj? Can we
that out of the vast number of
ftraf:ners, not <mljr from the west, but from
the tatt, trading and settled in Britain, there
were mo profesaors ci the " glad tidings of |
great wj?" Sorelj we cannot entertain !
the supposition. A<;ain, if there were Chris-
tuuLS in our island, is it not natural to sup-
pase, that joms c^ them would have zeal
and caonge enough to saj a word fur their
Tf when they saw whole families, triba,
pxoviooes, given to the most shocking
rrroiting idolatries? The mind starts
at the hve ^ea of a denial. Thus we see
that then are stnmg probabilities in favour
flf the taxlj intxoduction of Christianitj into
fc*^*"* But we rest not on proUtbUUies^
hswcTcr strong, or opinwns, however pre-
valent.
Gildas, our earliest historian, who flour-
ished in the beginning of the sixth century,
hs« kft on record the fact, ** That upon,this
cvr/n/ztn islCy while shitering with the icy
rffld of ignorance^ heathenism^ and idolatry^
tke cheering beams oftlie true Sun — the Sun
('/ Ri>jiief/tisnes9 — ^one brightly mUy a little
bfjor". or about the time o/\ the dtfetU of
boedicea by the Roman legions.^*
Here, then, we have direct testimony as
to the precise time of the foundation of the
Bridsh Church. And it must not be for-
goitts, that at the time when the defeat
mjcuiied (xj>. 61), the apostles were in the
addst of ibm evangelical career.
The iestixnony of Grildas is strongly con-
firDfld by a atetcment of Justin Martyr, one
fi# the earheat and Buist learned of the chris-
tian CsthorB. He declares that in his time
(ajd. 140) Chrbtianity was known in every
eootry uader the Roman tway. In Justin's
tme, and prior to it, Britain was a flourish-
ii^ piiirinec of the Soman empire— it was
£M with Boman l^ons, officers, and
fit] MM anfl it b quite incredible that such
a writer as Justm Martyr, living at Rome,
ikaold use such strong and positive language,
if there wen not christian churches imd
ckrisdan services in Britain.
Bj wkam tie CkmrA wa§ fotmded in
Bgymim f — 19% rnnst* meatAm mt the aue^
An a9 ih^ £dktm tdkm. xu, in geaend
terms, that it was the apostles jtersonaUy,
For example, Theodoret, bishop of Cyprus,
nays, **The apostles persuaded even the
Britont to receive the laws of the crucified
Lord." Again : ** St. Paul, after his release
from imprisonment at Rome, went straight-
way to Spain, and thence hastening away to
other nations^ carried the light of the gospel
to them also." And that we may not mis-
take the ** other nations," he adds, ^* That he
(St. Paul), after having gone into Spain,
brought salvation to the iaUmdt that lie in
the ocean.^*
Theodoret knew of no other islands lying
in the ocean than the British isles; indeed,
this was their classical and geographical
appellation. Eusebius, bishop of Cssarea,
the friend of our countryman, Constantino
the Great, says that the apostles preached
to "those called the British islands;"
and Jerome, the most learned of the Ladn
fathers, says, "Paul preached the gospel
in the western parts." Venantius, bishop
of Poictiers, in the sixth century, says,
" That he (Paul) crossed the ocean, and
landed and preached in the countries
which the Britons inliabit, and in the utmost
Thule." And to mention but one authority
more, which ought to set the matter com-
pletely at rest, Clement, bishop of Rome
(who was St. Paul's friend, companion, and
fellow-labourer), whose name (Phil. iv. 3)
was written in the "Book of Life" — tliis
same Clement says, " Paul taught righteous-
ness to the whole world, and went even to
the utmost bounds of the vest." It should
be remembered that the ancients knew no-
thing west of these islands, and hence from
the time of their first discovery they were
designated " utmost.** Thus Virgil and Pliny,
''the utmost Thule;** Catullus, "Me utmo'st
island of the ocean" — " the utmost Britons ; **
Horace, " Britain, the utmost pecqtle of the
xoorld;" and Venantius, as quoted above.
To these examples we might add many
others, all and each of which would contri-
bute their weight and testimony to the fact,
that the British Church was of ApostoUc
Origin,
Secondly, St. Paul was the founder of the
British Church.
We have seen, from the ({uotationa mudt^
tbetsome aaySL Paul proclaimed the g|Qi^
to the otmost bounds of the ivoit, oOdaa
OMmiog Britmn expresfly; and itWan intv-
16
OUGHT THE JEWS TO BE ADMITTED TO PARUAMENT ?
esiing fact, that none held a contrary opinion
on the subject for more than a thonsand years.
The witnesses who testify to its trnth, com-
mence with St. Paal's bosom friend, Clement,
who coold not be deceived in so plain a mat-
ter-of-fact— ^they speak of it with snch con-
fidence as shows that they had no suspicion
of their being mistaken. St. Paul, then, if
there be any truth in historic testimony, was
the founder of the church of our early
fathers.
To a truth thus demonstrated from his-
tory, little confirmation from the Bible will
suffice. We turn, then, to the fifteenth
chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, and
we find the apostle expressing his earnest
desire and l<mg 'Cherished purpose of going
firom Home into the icest, "Whensoever,"
says he, " I take my journey into Spain, I
will come to you." — '* I will come by you
into Spain." To this add the following
remarkable and interesting facts : — St. Pauls
release from prison at Borne agrees exactly
with the time mentioned by Gildas when
Christianity was planted here. St. Paul
was a contemporary prisoner with Bran, the
father of Caracticua, and was released the
same year. Between St. PauVs first and
second imprisonment at Rome there was an
interval of eight years. This interval, say
the fathers, without one contrary opinion,
"he passed in going up and down and
preaching in the western parts." " 1 eo,"
says the Jesuit Capelli Q* Lives of the Apos-
tles "), " this UHxs Hie common and received
opinion of all the fathers."
Now, putting all these facts together —
considering St. Pauls long-cherished wish
and purpose, leisure time, and zeal — the
opportunity he had of returning with the
released captives, the celebrity of the island
at the time, there would be ample ground to
conclude, even though ancient writers were
silent, that St. Paul did do what all antiquity
asserted and believed — preached the gospel,
not only in Spain, but also in these utmost
bounds of the west — even Brita^u
J. B.
^^nlititi
OUGHT THE JEWS TO BE ADMITTED TO PARLIAMENT ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
Eighteen hundred years ago the Jewish
nation, already shorn of its chief glories,
severed by a single act the remaining bonds
of its existence, and devoting to slaughter
a portion of its people, surrendered the rest,
with their unfortunate descendants, to long
and universal oppression.
What they have since regained in part
of the rights then lost has been wrung
little by little from an unwilling world.
Everywhere has the Jew been an outcajit,
and his claims held exceptive to the sacred
law of justice. It is true, his frequent
wealth has proved a most convenient re-
source when princes have had a fancy to
be extravagant, but his liberty, his citizen-
ship, his right to elect, or to act if elected,
— Uiese, the common gifts of God to all
jaeo, have been stubbornly denied, or if
MckaowJedged, conceded oalf as the gradual
dgms t^ iatelUgeace and xttaaa has necessi-
tated restitution. This policy of reducing
the Jew to the moral leper of society and
a mere cypher in the state, was not de-
manded by any excess of natural depravity,
or by any disqualification arising from
natural incapacity. The worst enemies of
the Jew have not exhibited their own infe-
riority by asserting his. Philosophy and
facts would have laughed the libel to scorn.
Why, then, since he possesses equally with
other men the dignity and capabilities of
manhood, has he been cut off from its right-
fur honours? Why is it, that even now,
when knowledge is every one's pretension,
and freedom is lauded to the akies, that the
question as to whether the Jew shall be
admitted to civil rights, ahould remain as a
question at all ?
This is obviously the inquiry which Rea-
son would make, were the matter left within
her JoxudicUon, aa \!L ou^jiit to be. She.
OUOWT TKK JEWS TO BE ADXTTTED TO PARUAXElfT ?
17
loiU p>Int oat that it would be abont as
ynfK tori as clever a proceeding to dbciiac
I Jnr's cbun to the tfunlight aa to other
li^tc which are his in virtue of a commoa
bastiij. The fact i», our bmnaess lies
M 10 DiQcb in denMnistratinp: a troth as in
JKipitiDg ubjections to it. Tbe ri;;bt bears
iu on prxif. and our position with respect
•-oi: a, tilt tro deal chiefly with the preifxU
opK vLich it Ls withheld. There is realijr
Wij*j»>ti>in till we get at these.
There can be no doubt bnt that t)ie pri-
nirr w\ chief objection to the Jew enjoTin^
tbe full exercise of civil rights is, that he it
fl JfT — hi^ very name full of associations
RTohin;; to Oentile feelings, rather than
ima uir apprebensi<Hi of the miachief he
mi^ht doL We speak not here of bigotry in
iu V. r«t forms, of peraecation irrespective
4f priocif-le. inditferent whether its victim
be Jew. Methodist, or Mormonite; it is alike
snwortbv of attention and inacce:>sible to
rctscc : bat we refer to the practice of those
p^rsri: ji who, like him of Tarsus, imagine
titer thus •* do God service." These frown
B»:n the Jew, denv him approach, shut him
oQl tr im their as^ieinblies, from a sense of
d"ity. " Because," say they, ^ he is a Jew,
We ileetn it ri^tit that he should be sub-
j'^ed to a particalar kind of treatment.
rue lia of ttie Almighty is upon him, far
be fp/cn :ui the arrogance which wouhl nullify
His CArcciX!*. God*s plan determines ours.
As LAh'm^ can be more evident than the
fact that God is scoorging the Jew, so
DoihJU)^ is clearer to ns than the necessity
that the punishment should be borne with-
001 human alleviation. The projihetic de-
ciaratinu. that he shall be 'a bye-word
aiaoag aQ nations,' is a sufficient guide to
oor dity; and that while we serve our God
tibe Jew can bring against us no charge of
knnstice. is manifested bj his own engage-
iBBLt. pledging himself and his children to
ths eiwaces of divioe retribution.*'
It is an easy matter to show how erro-
ledos is tbe assomption at tbe foundation
«f this doctrine. These peraofis assume what
naoT of their forrfstbers, aofortnnately for
tbe world aad Chriatiaaity, have assumed
brfarv tbem, that tke judgments of God are
ia their keeping, and disposable at their plea-
eat. They esmhte the angels, and, seJf-
the true satisfaction of duty- doing. For
thrirs is not a mere passive acquiescence, a
leaving God to his own purposes and pn>>
vidences. Every denial of justice to the Jew
is active in its chanicter; every refusal of
the right a perpetration of the wrong; every
perpetuation of opinions, laws, tests, which
obstruct the Jew in his attempts to attain
to emancipiition, is practically placing a
barrier in the way of success, and must be
regarded as a real and accountable act, since
to perpetuate an evil that has come into our
possession, and which wc can extinguish if
we choose, is just equivalent to creating it.
Now, the error tho».e people make in their
treatment of the Jew is so apparent that it
scarcely needs enlar;:ing upon. Because,
to carry out God's designs it is necessary
thej should know tliem, and then that they
should possess authority to falfil them. To
know them, they must either have done
wliat the niii^htiest angel whose powers they
wield has never accomplished, unloosed the
book of God's decrees, and made the Eternal
mind their own, or they must have received
a special revelation. The former of these
means they will not prt'tend to, the latter
they cannot, with any advantage to them-
selves. They will, in.leed, reiterate the
denunciations of holy writ; again and again
will prophecy be on their lip, and be, with
its long and terrible fulfilment, adduced as
indicative of the divine will; but, even then,
allowin^r, as we must, that the scourge was
intended, whence comes tk^r authority to
administer it? I>oes this come with the
prophecy ? This is the important point.
Has God left his prophecies iu the hands of
men, to be construed and consummated as
custom, or caprice, or imbecility, may judge,
or miftjudge, of occasion; or, has he not
rather reserved to himself the infliction of
vengeance, sometimes using men, indeed,
an instruments, unconscious instruments, in
the execution of his judgments, at the
same time justly requiring their fxcttmre
obedience to certain laws which he has in-
stituted for their mutual good? This is,
undoubtedly, (iod*s plan. He would have
us keep his commandments, and not meddle
with his judgments, therefore are we told
that *' secret things belong to the Lord Ofox
-«. EMwrnj vwiuMv 1J.O wiKci^ witi, ^M,-, God, bat th^y that are revealed to ^» axA
nmiad with tfce j>9wen of na'ttigteriag to our cbihlren." He woa\d have ua ** ^
^iA^ "Oml dmaoMtiaa " anuod them in I justice and lore mercy," and ba» Buxonw^
6
18
OUGHT THE JEWS TO BE ADMITTED TO PARLTAMBKT ?
up into one rule the whole duty of men to
, each other. Specifically has he Tvamed the
Gentiles to " boast not against the branches.**
How mistaken, then, the supposition which
some of them cherish with so much satis-
faction to themselves, tliat they are the
.faithful stewards of Omnipotence! They
have misunderstood the nature of their Mas-
ter s service, the terms of his commission.
They have gone to prophecy, searching for
precepts, when the keeping of precepts
which there could be no misunderstanding
about, was all the assistance that God had
permitted in the accomplishment of prophecy.
Their error arrives at palpable absurdity.
They have actually been the creators of
those very providences and judgments which
they disavow interference with ! Non-inter-
vention in reference to God's decrees is their
favourite boast; but when their application
of the good principle undergoes our scrutiny,
we find that God's decrees have been sup-
planted by Gentile intolerance, which rever-
ence for the Almighty and the religiuu he
h:is inculcated, demands that we denounce as
characterized as much by impiety as it is
by injustice.
Ualess the treatment of the Jew be the
result of the 'most contemptible ignorance,
or, what is worse, of the vilest dispositions of
human nature, — a supposition we should be
sorry to entertain, inasmuch as it would be
paying but a poor compliment to our oppo-
nents,— we are bound to believe that a great
proportion of their opposition to the Jew is
comprehended in, or is traceable to, the
foregoing objection. It would, however, be
unfair to insist that it has universal in-
fluence. To any of our opponents who
demand it, we will readily accede acquittal,
and supposing them to be free from any
intention that their conduct should operate as
a punishment to the Jew, we will take their
own objection. The plea upon which they
deny senatorial rights to the Jew is, that he
would unchristiomize the senate. They are
jealous for its christian purity, for it is the
element of preservativeness. Unluckily for
them, the *^ salt has lost its savour." Cop-
pock, — illustrious practitioner in parliamen-
tary ethics! — what say you of the samtly
purity of the English Commons? " I could
tske M ]J3t of the English boroughs, begin-
^i?r miA Abingdon, and ending with the
JeUer, and could put opposite — ^thc
member paid so much for his seat. I state
this to show wluU the system is" Mr.
Coppock may have overrated his ability ; he
might fail in proving that every member has
stooped to infamy like that of St. Albans;
but he has disclosed enough to show a fail-
ing more general even than was suspected.
Now, bribery and corruption are acts com-
mitted by the member-elect; they are not,
like infidelity and private immorality, the
faults of his private character, but are
strictly acts of a capacity he is entering
upon. Where, then, is tlie entirety of that
christian character which is demanded for
the house? It would, indeed, be the
queerest sleight in the process of conversion
ever heard of, if these men could be made
collectively what they are not individually.
Uomogeneousness is the same in its par-
ticles. There is no such special talisman
for the change of vicious elements into a
virtuous whole. The christian oath which
members take no more makes them Chris-
tians than do their christian names. But
supposing this house were Christians, ».e.,
that all its members were influenced by
christian principles, how could the admission
of a Jew afifect its character injuriously?
Christianity and Judaism arc identical in all
that concerns the purpose of a government.
The rules which regulate the actions of men
towards each other are the same in the Old
Testament as in the New. It must be
remembered, that the purpose of government
is not the propagation of the christian reli-
gion, but the enforcement of relative duties^
and these are taught by precepts which have
descended unaltered from Jew to Christian,
and which both have an equal interest in obey-
ing. The use of the phrase " unchristianize,**
in the sense it is made use of in this question,
is a mere trick. It means the violation, the
overthrow of just principles; but a sufficient
refutation of every such insinuation is the
fidelity with which the Jews now discharge
important public functions.
We have thus considered the objections of
those who negative the inquiry, " Ought the
Jews to be admitted to Parliament? ^ Trite
enough, we may be told, our remarks are;
but we ask in return, Why prolong so trite a
question? Viewed apart from considerations
of equity, as a matter depending upon the
r^fnreseniative arrangement, it is a settled
question. London, nud Cit^^w'^kh. has each
OrORT TBB JEWS TO BB ADMITTED TO PABUAMENT ?
\9
di»6i a ivjnflenUtiTe from the Jewish
mt This u it once a final decision, else
is oar pet ^rstem of repesentation a sham.
TWCoauDQBs themaelres have ratified this
^KJsiffi. ^id if two of the most enlightened
t9Bftit«ocies of ttua nation, and the " col-
iecdre visdom of the empire " agree as
tndjfi^ tbe Jew's admission, shall the
ssodental terms of an oath, or an adverse
^9 <^ tlie Ijords, he sufficient to keep him
* bdwr tltt bar? ' Assuredly not. The gc-
i^3&a which has so far cast o£P its ancient
prejudices as to hold out the hand of friend-
ship to all the world, which sends through
its electric wires its greeting to France; the
enlightenment and love of freedom which
have welcomed Kossuth, and raised Roths-
child and Salomons to share in the honours
as they do in the burdens of the state, will
be deterred by no obstacles from securing for
Rothschild and Salomons, and as many d
their brethren as may be similarly chosen, a
speedy and a free exercise of their parlia-
mentary functions. B. W. P.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
THBakussioa of the Jew into the British
Ha^ of Commons is fraught with many
<^&Qlties, and involves several very serious
'pesksoy not only of a civil and political,
:s: ilM ooDstitutiostal and religious, nature.
•^^ed. the mere attempt at such an inno-
^3 is one which threatens to separate
'-^ cborcfa fimn the state; to infringe
^*ii, if Bot destroy, the independence of the
^saxnisal part of the British constitu-
^; aod as well to bend the necks of free-
i^ii Engii^men to the rule of those who
^ atireiy difierent firom them, and who
^eihr and avowedly treat the Great Head
i their church as an impostor, holding up
•e li'iknie the £aith of the nation. The
^.«t in, therefore, ooe which may not be
^tued lightly; it requires to be looked at
<^ iH its besringB and consequences. It
'^^h the most serious consideration from
'•^vbose office it is to decide this impor-
^ inKstifao, and as well of all who have any
^sist in the weal of this nation, and any
^mst» left far her constitution, or grati-
^ •'«' the amount of freedom and happi-
^ raj<7ed by her inhabitants. The leading
'.^3Gs, therefore, which would suggest
'•>::«elTes to the mind of a thinking man,
>^1^ What is the nature of the British
'^^tatkm? 2nd. What is the Parliament
^^ of Commons? 8rd. Is the Com-
»M House independent of, or subservient
'■'UConstitutton? A due investigation
^ eoouderation of these several questions
^? tiiraw a little light upon the subject,
*^ ^ in some measure to assist in the
yy eoQchision to be arriyed at.
^^ several questions we will now con-
*"Ttwn.
^ The ooBstiiaticn of England is
'* Christian j" based upon Christianity; sub-
servient to the laivs of Christ; and holds
as its fundamental creed the doctrine that
Jttus Christ is the Son of God, and God as
well as Man. It is also composed, 1st, of a
Monarch, who is bound to be a Christian;
2ndly, Lords Spiritual and Temporal, se-
lected for their piety, then: birth, their
wisdom, their valour, or their property; and
3rdly, Commons, freely chosen by the peo-
ple yrom amot^ themsehesy all of whom were
originally obliged not only to be Christians,
but also communicants in the Church of
England. Such a institution (unlike that
of any other country), being neither entirely
monarchical, aristocratical, nor democratic,
secures the benefit of all, without infringing
upon or destroying the independence of
either. The three powers being brought to
bear upon each other, operate as a check one
upon another, and produce that liberty and
happiness so fully enjoyed by the inhabitants
of this land, preventing all the direful con-
sequences which result from power resting
solely on one class, which is so severely felt
by other nations, both in the destruction of
their liberties and rights as men on the one
hand, or in licentiousness, innovation, and
want of stability on the other. Touching
the infringement upon the character or posi-
tion of either of these three powers, Mr.
Justice Blackstone very wisely says, " If it
should ever happen that the independence of
any one of the three should be lost, or that
it should become subservient to the views of
either of the other two, there would soon be
an end of our constitution. The legislature
would be changed from that which (upon
the supposition of an original contract, either
actual or implied) is presumed to have been
A
20
WOULD GOMMTJinSM PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAN ?
originallj set up hj the general consent and
finndamental act of the society;" and such a
change, however effected, would, according
to Locke, " at once effect an entire dissolu-
tion of the bands of government, and the
people would thereby be reduced to a state
«f anarchy, with liberty to constitute to
themselves a new legislative power."
2nd. The House of Commons, as before
stated, b composed of persons freely chosen
by the people from among themselves, and
represents the democratical part of our con-
stitution. This proposition viewed simply,
would seem to imply that the Jew, being
now in some sense a natural-born subject,
has a right to be chosen, and also to repre-
sent a constituency. This will, however, be
met by a consideration of the next question,
yiz.; —
3rd. Is the House of Commons indepen-
dent of, or subservient to, the Constitution ?
There can be no doubt that every integral
part must necessarily be dependent on. and
Subservient to the whole. The democratical
part of the British constitution must, there-
Inre, be considered as a part of. and still
dependent on, and in some sense subservient
to, the constitution of the country: and as
tbat constitution is Christian, and acknow-
ledges Christ to be the supreme Head of the
dnirch, there can be but little room for argu-
ment to show that it is not right either for
tile people, who are bound themselves to be
ef the same creed, and in subjection to
Christ's laws, to elect a Jew, or for a Jew
when elected (if elected he can be considered,
the people's call being to elect one of tkem-
telves) to represent not only those who seem
to desire to bend the neck of this country to
the yoke of another people, but also the
faithful and liege subjects of the gospel of
Jesus Christ. Besides, look at the Jew him-
self. Who is he? Can he be considered by
Christians as one of themselves? It is triM,
according to the law of this country, that he
is in some sort a natural-born subject, but his
own creed compels him to believe himself to
be driven from his own land, and doomed to
wander as a stranger in the lands of other
nations as a punishment for his sin; and we
as Christians are led to believe that very sin
to be the rejection of Jesus Christ as the
Son of God and Saviour of the world ; and if
he is consistent with his own creed, he is
daily expecting to be called back to his own
land, where, and where alone, he has any
right to expect to be placed in a position i&
rule. The admission of the Jew, therefore,
into the senate-house of this kingdom,
where he would be called m^ocl not to admi-
nister but to legislate christian laws for a
christian people, and those even for the re-
gulation ot' the church, while he himself at
the same time denies Christ alt<^ether, ap-
pears inconsistent both with the constitn*
tion of England and every rule of conmion
sense, unl^s indeed it be wished, in the
words of Locke, ^*^ to effect at once an entire
dissolution of the bands of government, and
reduce the people to anarchy." No; the
Jew must be considered as a stranger within
our gates, although we may still offer for
him and ourselves the prayer of the poet: —
" May England stiil maintain her own position
free,
And Israel's borne Ins own dear Canaan be."
Veritas.
WOLXD COMMUNISM PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAN ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.~L
Whknkvbr civilization has become suf-
ficiently developed to call into existence the
reflective powers of the mind, there seems to
Jk»re sprang up alongside of it a strcmg
teUef thMt, whatever tlie then state of
lisppinesa, there t»'as to be attained a
much higher gradation of earthly bliss — a
state so far in advance of that thin present,
as to be worthy of the greatest human
exertions for its attainment. The existence
of such a belief is not to be ascribed to any
mania, wbk\\^ aa m wana c»ae&^ having been
WOUM> COMUUICISH PROUOTB THE IIAFPIKK88 OF ICAN?
SI
■ted inth some peculiar itect, hnn con-
l rife, perhaps, for gpncratiofu, bat at
1 haa died away, aiid is licard of no
PhiIucM>phcTS, Rtat««ni«i, and piiets,
lEkc pnx>bimed this belief, and lont
maes to its advocacv, vrhi\e the pn'-
i|pe in this I* eqoallv Ix'lioviiig ^\ith
Id, and prrfaafA* even more so.
aright atfrTd hoine t»ati:«faction to the
la if we irtTO to trace the oriprin of tliis
Axwe Wief. The task, however, would
» an easy one. and, moreover, it is not
ial to oTir prvscnt inqnin'. Suffice it,
lore, to say. that some have referreil it
n'« knowledge of his own deficiencies,
ii ecKUKrioiisuess that perfection, or niiy.
approaching to it. can only be attained
neh penieverancv and lon^ufferin?.
s have considered it as re^ultinir from
pCTBtioii of .1 principle of hrpe im-
•d witliin U9.
naens Hone ! in thjr •weet garden grow
iufar each toil, a charm /or ecerff tcue ;
J tbeir swef ts, in NAtore's luiguid hour,
«j-wom pilifrim Meks thy Hammer bower ;
, ■■ the wild bee murmum on tlie win;;,
waceful dreuinsthy haudmaiJ spiritu briugi
riewles^ ftiniM tir .iColian urvnii play,
retp the furrow 'd lines of anxious Uiong^t
F."
w* ventured an opinion of out own
this subjetrt, we nhonld Hay that this
mf[ after more perfect faajipiness lias
implanted within man by his all-wise
nr a» a me.'tnrt of urging him on in that
»MTe ;<c.ile of improvement which is
rate and ennoble Iua natTin\ and nlti-
y prepare him for tho«c hij;h di*stinies
1 await him.
c tbiviries lai<l down for the realization
3 stato. f.f •* terrc?trial paradise" — 5o
desinni alike by pea:<nnt and princ<* —
of coitrw, lioen varion^* an they have
b^^n nimwrou:*. S]R*akin!r of th«in
illy, a.« they ranire from the ** Reymblic "
Ltlanti-* " of Plato, to the ** Utopia " of
bonus Mnre, and from thence to the
ia" and **E1 l>irado** schemes of the
it day, they liave all been ** commuius-
B their tendency. To coiL«titnt« man-
into one commno family, with connnon
\f privilegen, and property, has been
brirard as the fint object to be nccotn-
4. Hxni^ rrdaced off to 8uch '^cam"
mation and maintcnanoe of their social fabric,
by any of the meana whicli the ingenuity of
the {iroponnders of these schemes has pro-
duced in abiiiKtance.
Now it cannot be donietl that there is
mmethini; i)]easiii«x — yea, even enchanting —
in the idea of a conminnity of people all
actnated by one coinin<m fe(>lin|r, antl that
the promotion of (*;ich other's happiness! The
poet lias fuuiid in this idea a rich theme for
his i»oesy: —
" O happy they, thiS ha)>piofit of their kind.
Whom ."oeial laws unite, and in doe fate
Their hearts, their fortunes, and tlieir lirings
blend."
The ])hil<R*opheT, nfter lament in<; the i-vils
of the jiast, may well liave been captivated
by a tlieory so fjur and so pleaKiui^. Or
the stntcsiiiaii, stepjiin^ aside from his
les^isl.itive enactments* for the snppressi(»i
of vice and the i)romotioii of virtue, mi^ht
exclaim, ** My enerpies arc no lonp:er rc-
quiri'd ; the work of my life is superseded by
the hinple idea, * Let men dwell toffother in
unity and love;' henceforward I rest firtiin my
labours." Wo admit that we have been
sometimes absorbi*d and le<l from our aecns-
tomed track while contemplating such *' fairy
scenes.** Our imnprinntion has, on snch
occasions, carried us to some nio<lem ** Cape
Colony," where, U*neath a clejir bine sky,
amid ripplincj fountains and sylvan bowers,
<lwvll n ])eopIc amidst whom the seeds of
discord and social strife never vet fouml
shelter — whose only emblems are the **dovc"
and the **lamb" — whose fonner toils for an
existence an» now changed into a " labour of
love," and who sunor. with gladsome hearts,
** Glory to God in the hi;ihest, an«l on earth
peouct^ good will toward men." Such, we siiy,
have sometimes been the workings of our
fancy: but, alas! howsmm have our ** golden
dn»ams" been follow»il by glimpses of
" waking realities!" Alas! that we should
delude ourselves with hopes which can nevtr
be realized!
But tliat we may come to a more practical
understanding of the subject, we purpose
briefly to notice some ot' the most prominent
commmtiitic theories which have been pro-
pounded or experimented upon. We must
hfTv make some distinction bctwwu t\ioisft
who hare ** theorized " only snd tViow nYvo
hni,'' tbeyr B^ght jpneeed to the for. I have iwi^ht the practical cmbodkmeBi ^
22
WOUU> COMMU2fISBI PROMOTE TUB HAPPINESS OF MAM?
their priDciples. In speaking of the theorists,
first we may mention Plato, whoso work, en-
titled the "Atlantis," we have before referred
to ; Sir Thomas More, the writer of " Uto-
pia," a book widely known to fame, and one
which sliould be read by every student of
social progression; Lord Bacon, author of
the " New Atlantis ; *' Harrington, author of
** Oceana;" Cam])anella, a Calabriun friar,
who wrote the " City of the Sun," which
has been appropriately described " a fantastic
creation full of grandeur;" Hall, author of
the ** Other World ; " F6nelon, author of *' Isle
of Pleasures ; " the Abb6 St. Pierre, and his
" Dream of Perpetual Peace; " and Morelly,
author of " Basiliade," " Code of Nature,"
&C. Coleridge, also, in his early days, in
conjunction with several of his contempo-
raries, was enthusiastic in his millennial
scheme, '* Pantisocracy," which, however,
was never reduced to practice ; while Southey,
and Shelley in their poetical works embody
frequent dreamings of social Utopias; some
of those of Shelley b<;ing exceedingly resplen-
dent with beautiful and captivating ideas.
The Greek poets, also, by their frequent
^dlusions to the " Golden Age," seem to have
indulged themselves in dreamings of a Hke
nature. The celebrated Mr. Kobert Owen,
some years since, attracted attention to the
communistic question by the publication of
his " New Moral World ; " while the most
popular advocate of the system in the pre-
sent day is the young and talented Goodwin
Barmby, who, in 1843, founded the Com-
munist Church; and about the same time
commenced publishing his " Book of Plat-
mopolis," a work (whatever else may be
Sfud against it) manifesting considerable
learning and a refine<l taste. In France, of
late days, communistic theories have hpnmg
up almost " as tliick as miLshrooms " (pardon
the homely phrase !), to which some of them
may be not inaptly compared. The most
popular advocates there are M. Cabet (autlior
of " Travels in Icaria"), the Abb6 Constant,
and M. Proudhon. Louis Blanc, we suspect,
belongs to the same school, only that be
endeavours to apply his principles in more
practical directions tlmn some of his con-
temporaries, although his efforts have, at
present, proved futile.
We inake this lengthy allusion to the
Jore/^oini^ wiitera with a twcXolA object: —
ifjuvt, tJmt oar readers m&j be induced to
turn to their works which may be within
reach, in order to read and judge for them-
selves; secondly, that our opponents may
not charge us with judging of all from an
acquaintance with one or two. Speaking,
then, generally of those we have enumerat^
we hesitate not to say that, however noblo
may have been the sentiments with which
they were actuated, their theories and their
principles are far too unpractical to be ever
really useful in the promotion of men*s
happiness. It is pleasing to the fancy to
picture the domestic felicity which might
siuTound the inhabitants of some far remote
" -Arcadia," with " its smmy skies, its blue
hills, its cascades, and its shepherdesses;**
but if the happiness of man is to be per«
manently increased, it must be by something
more practical in its principles. Those
blessed with affluence can rear up for them-
selves " model Arcadius" and '* halls of har-
mony" in abundance. But it is for the
toiling millions, the masses of mankind,
those whose oidy wealth is in the power of
their arms to labour, that we should en-
deavour to provide new sounds of social
comfort ; and it is to the test of their appli-
cation to this class that all schemes pro-
fessing to increase^ the happiness of mankind
must be sooner or later submitteil. God has
decreed, yea, has engraven upon the forehead
of his people, that *' in the sweat <»f tliy brow
shalt thou eat bread;" and until he shall
revoke this decree, it will be worse than
madness to expect success for any scheme
which does not fully recognise its fulOlment.
We suspect that by this time &ome of our
readers wll begin to charge u» with con-
fining our attention to Comnulni^m in theory.
In order, then, to escape from this charge,
we mean briefly to glance at the various
communistic societies which luive endea-
voured to reduce their principles to practice;
or which, without having >uiy clearly defined
principles to guide them, have tried the plan
of communistic residences. The first society
of this sort of which history gives any de-
tails, appear to be the " Essenes," a sect of
Jews. Josephus infonns us, that in his
time they numbered almost 4,000. Tlu*y
were chiefly engaged in agriculture, and had
no particular town, but were scattered in
groups through the principal parts of Judea.
In this latter respect they differ from subse-
quent commmnslic \xA\«&. Tlxey seem to
UrOULD COMMITlCIdM PBOMOTB THE HAl'PINRSS OF »LAN ?
23
lirre paid great regard to religioao ordi- i enrolled tliemselves as his followers, and
nasKi. and to have looked upon all men as
fnt Bid equaL We do not read that they
Biii^ any gT#»at process. Shortly before
thi £n^li»h Beformation, thti Anabaptists
embraced the doctrine of the conunanity of
SQodf the common family, and other cam-
mmafrtie principles ; and still earlier, some of
tire di»<-:{4es of Wicklifie, Lnther, and John
fiass. imbibed simitar notions, and quoted
apforently higli authority for so doing.
Xf^xt we have mention of the Moravians and
tfe» Shakers, or, tu* they wore sometimes
failed, the United Brethren and the United
Sock-ty of B<»lievers. These seem to have
Wfi the meet successful of all sects of com-
Tsamstic adventurers. Sections of the Mo-
r-T-aus .ire still to be found m Southern
£«i^ia and other parts of Europe. The
Shakers hare chiefly settled down in Ame-
rica. They both adopt the principle of
ttcirooa rijrhts, and educate their children
in (.tcnmon. They do not, however, recop^nise
tl» cnnmiunitj of women; and the Morn-
^ians pay stri«*t attention to marriajre. The
Shakere,' however, by their religious senti-
ments, are restrained from marriage, and
Iwpp up th«r numbers by adopted children.
F** the most part they are exceedingly
illita^te in all but religious matters ; indeed
the Shakers seem to have not the slightest
d«qnr for mental cultivation. It is only
*Tfkin the last century that they have
e«tablished the community of property ;
•cd this feature seems to have succeeded
with th«n- lu 1805 they had twenty com-
inonitie^j: in 1847 there were seventeen, but
tb»ir entire population was then estimated
at only between 4,000 and 5,000. America
seems a favoured spot for Utopian experi-
menters: in addition to the Shakers, there
Vf. sects of Harmonists, Economists, and
Fratemalirt*. Each of these arc of German
oridn, and by hard plodding and hard living
hare acquired 8«irae property, but their num-
^rs j«eem in no way likely to increase.
They each have religious views peculiar to
themibelves.
Tli« rooet popular, however, of all modem
Mfiafistic sects is that founde^l by St. Simon,
tktt French philoeophcr. The originality of
kis poHticftl as well as his religious views
attneted coonderable attention, and j^reat
worked at their respective occupations in
special houses ; '' but the doctrine had no
substantial hold upon their minds, and the
promise<l amelioration came not." Next to
tliis w.as the scheme organized by Fourier,
another French philosopher, which was pre-
ferred by many to that of St. Simon, b«*cnuse
the views of Fourier were more moderated.
Very extensive experiments were made ujmu
this principle, both in France and America,
but in most instances they have proved an
entire failure.
But to come nearer home. In 1841, a
community, under the direction of Mr.
Robert Owen, conmienced communistic oper-
ations in Hampshire. They located them-
selves upon 1,200 acres of land, and had a
building called " Harmony Hall." Some
£30,000 was exjx'uded in iho experiment,
and the establishment was fitted up with
every regard to convenience, utility, and
even elegance, where it could be had without
sacrifice of the former. The communitv
•
consisted of fit\y or sixty persons only, juul
these disagreeing on some point relative to
the management of their offices, and boing
presped with pecuniary difficulties, the com-
munity struggled on for a time in anything
but a prosperous state, and in July, 1845,
became bankrupts, and all the property was
sold, the occuj>ants of courj»c being again
thrown upon their own resources.
In 1842 the Concordists established a
communitive association, under the name of
the Concordium, at Ham, in Surrey. The
adherents never became numerous, and tho
community was dissolved in two or three
years afterwards. — ( Vide Ckatnbers^ Papers
for the People J No. 18.)
We have now seen that in practice Com-
munism has proved what we stated of it in
theory — too risiona-n/ to be jn-oductive <ff
reallv beneficial results. When* it has mot
with any success, it has been by the hard
plodding of its adherents, and by their
remaining in ignoinnce, which circumstances
must necessarily detract from their happi-
ness.
We have investigated the present quesrion,
not with the eye of a sceptic, but as those
who would rejoice to be able to discover auy
plan for the amelioration of marfa ^tK\t»\
made to bring the scheme I conditioUy and who would camcstAy weW \<>
pabUe. Nmnbers of workmen \ liMten f he time when
5t4
WOULD C03IMLTH8M PROMOTE THE IIAPPDfESS OF MAH ?
** No si^, no munnur, Uie uride world shdl hear :
From every face be wiped off every tear.
• • • •
Peaoe o'er the world her olive wand extend,
And white-robed Innocence from heaven
' descend.
• • * •
When discord, strife, and enmity shall cease,
And man meet man in amity and peace."
The conclnsion at which we have arrived
on this Bubjeet may be thtis .stunnied up : —
1st. That Conrniunism, in theorj-, has
never i<hown itself adequate to meet the
wants of, and promote the happiness of,
man.
2nd. That in practice it lias proved a
failure, as shown in the many attempts
which have been made nnder vaiious names
and circumstances, nearly all of which have
been pro<luctive of disappointment and
misery.
3rd. That from man's nature it is im-
possible for him long to remain happj in
a state of Conmmnism, unless imbued witix
a hish sense of moral and religious rectitude,
in which case he would be happy without
resorting to this alternative; and, indeed,
under such circumstances would be very
unlikely to re&ign himself to such a state.
Our anrnments on this last point we may
present in a future paper, and in the mean-
time leave the whole question in the hands
of our readers. C. W., Jun.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.-I.
Beforb entering upon the question in
hand, it may be well to define the principal
term used in it, lest we should be found
sustaining one thing while our opponents
are engaged in battling with another.
By " Commtiuism " we understand that
principle which would render common pro-
perty to the entire human family the earth
and all things which from time to time are
produced from it, whether they be animal,
vegetable, or mineral, and which would, at
the same time, render the production of them
common.
Communism, then, on the one hand, en-
joins all to labour; while, on the other, it
maintains that those who labour ought to be
permitted to eat. Its texts are, "In all
labour there is profit;" ** He that will not
labour, neither shall he eat."
In attempting to maintain the affirmative
of the question at the head of this article
we shall endeavour to i^how : —
1st. That the earth, and all that is pro-
duced from it by the labour of man, ought
to be common property.
2nd. That every able-bodied man ought
to perform his share of labour.
drd. That a community of labour, and
its results, would be for the happiness of
mankind in general.
We say the earth ought to he regarded as
common property, and for this reason:— No
man can establish and maintain an equitable
ji^ht in an/ portion of the earth. '' For if
aae portion of the earth's sarface may
ja0£/r become the property o£ oo indiTidaal,
then other portions of the earth's surface may
be so held ; and, eventually, the whole earth's
surface may be so held, and our planet may
altogether lapse into private hands. Ob-
sen'^e, now, the dilemma to which this leads.
Supposing the entire habitable globe to be m
enclosed, it follows, that if the landownerB
have a valid right to its surface, all who axe
not landowners have no right at all to its sur-
face. Hence such can exist on the earth by
sufferance only. They are all trespassers.
Save by the permission of the l(»ds of the soil,
they can have no room for the soles of their
feet. Nay, should the others think fit to
deny them a resting-place, there landless
men might equitably be expelled from the
earth altogether! If, then, the assumption
that land can be held as property involves
that the whole globe may become the private
domain of a part of its inhabitants ; and if,
then, by consequence the rest of its inhabit-
ants can exercise their faculties, can exist
even, only by consent of the landowners, it is
manifest that an exclusive possession of the
soil necessitates an infringement of the law
of equal freedom. For men who cannot live,
and move, and have their being without the
leave of others, cannot be equally free with
those others." — Social Staiics, hy Uerberi
SpeHctv.
But let us take another view of this pri-
vate right in the soil ; and it will be found
equally indefensible. God made the ^rth.
It has been given for the use of man. As
raw material, then, it contains in itself as
intrinsic \%\ue,iOT in it ««« c^d^msai^ «]i the
'WOULD OOICMUVISM PBOMOTB THE HAFPHfESS OP MAS?
as
: vealth. But men, hj appro-
to their iDdindoal lue, appro-
nine which it intriiuncaUy con-
tliat Talna was stamped npoo it
maker of it; and being the work
at be regarded, not as the pro-
1 indiyidnal, but of tlie race.
K periMwa who appropriate large
id to their own mse, and demand
ucge for the intrinsic ralne of
» tbeir fellow-men of that which
designed for their use.
not oolj asserted the right of
QBion to the earth, bnt also to
produced firora it bj the laboor
itj of man. Some men, in the
eir labours, discorer truths which
commoo with others, the adTanuges of others*
discoTeries and of others' labours. This, how-
erer, is a rerj different matter from ftl»imit>g
an absolnte and ezclusire right in the dis-
corery which he has made. (^lumbns might
jnstlj chum to be rewarded bj the parties
who were benefited by his discoverj, bat
certainly Colnmbus had no right to claim
America as his own. The truth, like the
continent, was God's work; and, as such,
was designed for the race. The discorerj
was the reward of the man, ''and the Isk
bonrcr is worthy of liis wages." What we
maintain is, that it is not proper for the
indiridual to concentrate in himself adyan-
tages which were designed for the race. If
it is not in accordance with the rules of
createkt importance to society at ' equity for a man to reaenre to his own
by the devdo^ent of which i exclusive aggrandixemoit a principle which,
destined to be blessed to the I probably, after immense labour, he may
«. These truths are, for the
j{ such a nature, that, if applied
y cannot permanently be kept
eh prores at once that they were
r the world, and not for the
sent of any solitary individual.
nany of the mechanical truths
: been disco%'ered by Tsrious me^
lifierent times. These, however,
ttars patent been rendered the
pcrty of the discorerers for a
ne, in order that they might be
1 for the labour and expense
pei£ecting the discovery; and
Dsiderable loss to the community
bo were deterred, for the more j
MiBg the truth until the end of
i time, owing to the rent which
ailed upon to pay for it to the
a the form of enhanced price.
naintain that the mere discovery
DO more renders that truth the
atj of the person discovering it
covsfy of a planet renders it the
the astronomer. The rery fact
impossible for the discoverer to
exclusive benefit of the truth
leovfva, shows that it belongs to
at it is Bot private property.
ay be asiud. Ought not th^ dis-
i new truth is science which is
have discovered, it can hardly be considered
as consonant with justice that a person who
has rendered no service whatevor to sooie^,
and whose only reoommendaticn is that his
father or grandfather managed, by fair
means or by foul, to save a large sum of
money, the result of the labour of himself or
of those about him, should be permitted to
live from year to year on the {sroceeds c^
the labours of his fellow-men, without doing
anything to add directly or indirectly to the
common stock, or in any way making a
return to the community fw what he has
received. True, it may bo said, '*:ie lives
upon the interest of his money ;** and
*' money," it is said, " begets money." We
grant it, money does beget money; and in
the present state of society it seems need-
ful that it should do so. As, however, we
are talking atwut a state which involves a
radical change in society, it is but natural
to inquire, Ought mere money to beget
money ?
Wliat is money? Money is wealth, or its
representative. How comes a large quantity
of money in the hands of a single person?
If he has come by it honestly, he has received
it in exchange for services rendered to
society, either by himself or by some of lus
progenitors. If dishonestly, her has merely
cheated the public out of tekai cmgkt to ka99
the world to the end of I been tbe reward of service. We will sup-
t aoma way rewarded for his dig- j pose the frst to have been tbe cum; t)kMeik
ioknbtadj}' ie oa/^btf mad io » I tbe question natnndly comes, Vfta \]bc im-
weuU be, by^ nmfxu^, in I vice which he rendez«d to acxaety filivVfe «
126
WOULD COMMU2nS>I PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAN?
infinite? For if the service was finite, the
reward should be finite ; if infinite, the re-
ward should be infinite. But the reward in
the present case is infinite; the man was
rewarded in liis lifetime. Suppose the ser-
vices were rendered by a progenitor, he
lived, and lived at the expense of the pub-
lic in exchange for his services: but he is
•dead, and now the rewanl has devolved upon
bis children, and may be continued to the
thousandth generation. There is no lunit
as to time ; hence we say the reward is in-
■finite: but was the service infinite? It may
justly be questioned whether any Service
which man can render to his fellow-man is
infinite. As it regards the mass of those
services which one man renders to another,
"we think it must be conceded that they are
not infinite. Here is one man who furnishes
the ladies with an article of dress or orna-
ment; another supplies people with good tea;
another furnishes smokers with tobacco,
&c.; it certainly cannot be said of any
mere merchant or shopkeeper that he ren-
ders the public an infinite service, a ser-
vice which merits luxury and enjoyment for
himself as long as he lives, and for his sons
through endless generations after he is dead ;
and yet it is to these classes of persons that,
for the more part, belong the men of capital
throughout the land. It is from these
sources that large portions of capital have
been derived, as far as individuals are con-
cerned.
If, then, capital, like the soil and disco-
veries, can be shown, as above, not to be
private property, ». «., according to equity, it
follows that labour, too, ought to be common
property. For what is capital but accumu-
lateid labour? Nay, the very fact that the
truths in science which from time to tune
are discovered, are designed to be the pro-
perty of mankind generally, when taken in
connexion with the circumstance that the
discovery of these truths is generally the
result of immense labour, is sufficient to
show that mankind are called upon mutually
to aid each other. For if the scientific man
is required to sacrifice the result of his
labours for the benefit of men in general, it
is but reasonable to suppose that men in
general ought to make some return for the
Afoa con/erred.
2nd, Every wan who la aWe to work
*«?r^/ to perform bia sbMn of labour.
Suppose there were no rich men and no
poor men, as would be the case if all men
laboured for, and partook of, one common
stock, it is evident that one member of the
community would be as much bound to
labour as another, for none would be re-
garded as having anything that he could
properly call his own, all would belong to
the community; and if none worked, all
must suffer want.
But even irrespective of a communistic
state, this truth, that all men who are able
ought to labour, appears to be written upon
man 8 nature. Man's health and happiness
are bound up with labour; hence we find that
many of those persons who are too rich, or
too proud, to engage in any useful employ-
mentf engage in employments which are not
useful; such as hunting, shooting, riding,
&c.; while those who refrain from such
exercises scarcely know what it is to enjoy
good health.
3rd. A community of labour and its
results would promote the happiness of man-
kind in generaL The rich must labour;
why not, then, be engaged in some work
which would be for the good of the com-
munity— something which would make the
world richer ? Surely it would be far better
for rich men themselves if they were from
time to time engaged in doing something
useful rather than in merely consuming
wealth and murdering time.
The poor must labour; he knows it; he is
ofttimes oppressed with it; it would be a
blessing to him to be rid of a little of it,
only that unfortunately he does not know
how to spare a single stiver of the small
pittance which he receives in return. There
is no question, then, that the passing of a
portion of his load to the back of his more
able friend would to him be a real blessing.
But a community of the results of labour
would be for the happiness of mankind
generally.
Suppose that a wealthy man were secure
from want, which he would bo in a commu-
nistic state, it would be in many cases a
real blessing to be freed from the anxiety
which his wealth entails. The cure, the
corroding agitation, which attend the pos-
session of wealth, are ofttimes as great, if not
greater, than that of its collection. How is
it to be invested so as to yield most, and at
the same time \>« secute^ \^\tfk \& \a \m
WOUU> COXMUinSX FBOMOTX THJB RAPPIKBISS OF MAN ?
27
trated vhh iht inrestiiig of it ? And,
afier it kaa beenimrested, the rate of interest
^tii it pndnces, are questions which are
!sr era agitalmg the mind. And then,
1^ a whilB, the rich man, as iveli as the
pMr one, has to die» and whatever may be
tk aatore of his prospects for another state
a eztstence, he nnist first dispose of his
property, or even hia own children will carse
Ma vhea he la gone. A lawyer is called
i», sad perhaps the last tbonght which
pajRs throagh the poor wretch's mind while
"^-Hing on the confines of a state in which
lis sa^ interests are of more importance
tba the narel j temporal interests of all the
vodd >«**^^<'*^ is ome of pounds, shillings, and
pare How happy is the death of him who
bas Boa|[;ht to leare behind compared with
lM»l Conunnnisni, howeyer, wonld entirely
^^ense with such scenes, for the yexy good
reaaoii that no one woold have anght to
lesve. We need not say that the change
vooid improre the condition of the poor
SMB.: instead <tf an empty cupboard, he
wmild hare enotigb, with the only condition
^ ificng his share of labour: and when
either too ill or too old for this, he would
be assured of a comfortable and ungrudging
Bais^oiaiKe from the common store. How
^j&rent woald be the position of the pro-
caeers td wealth under such circumstances
ft^m tbar poaition at present!
But Cmnmnnism wonld be advantageous
tj aU^ inasmuch as there would be no
«C}ect to answer by mere selfishness. Selfishr
would, to a considerable extent, cease
to exist, or be held in abeyance; and with it
a vast number of those crimes which it has
been the fertile source of from the earliest
period. The powers, both of body and mind,
which men possess would be more fully
developed. Instead of children being sent
into the field to labour at an age as early as
possible, they would be placed under the
care of suitable teachers, and well educated;
so that, when called upon to labour, they
might do so with intelligence and skill.
And as there would be an abundant supply
of food and other accommodations forth*
coming from the general stock, children
might be expected to grow up, for the most
part, robust and strong. Indeed, as the
production of men in the highest state of
perfection wonld then be regarded as the
most important science, the fullest develop-
ment of the powers of man, both physical
and mental, might be anticipated.
The last advantage which we shall name
is this: — Under a communistic state the in-
crease of the productive powers would not
be calculated to produce jealousy. On the
contraiy, whenever any discovery was made,
or any useful invention perfected, all would
rejoice, for all woold be directly benefited.
£very useful invention would decrease the
amount of manual labour, and at the same
time increase the amount of enjoyment of
the community at large.
These, and many other similar reasons,
may be adduced, all of which tend to show
that Communism would promote the happi-
ness of man. U. M.
It is, periiaps, amazmg that the strongest minds are capable of being upset in an instant.
A Baa may have a perfect command over his features; he may have an equally perfect
OBBBaad over hia nerves; but he cannot have a perfect command, nor anything like a
poSset command, over hia mind. He may be able to stand and walk erect; he may be
XL'A to i«*?ti»«Ti the steadiness of his eye, and the firmness of his voice ; he may be able to
fe>^ea» every show of emotion ; but he cannot suppress the emotion itself. He may have
a hSi bloom what is technically termed ** moral courage," — for technical the term may be
■id to be, seeiqg that physical courage is hard to be defined; he may be extremely calm
lad eoQccted; he may conceal effectually his feelings from others; but from himself they
vX Ebit be concealed. Within his own breast they are in full operation; their influence
w rack him, althcmgh the effect be unseen. — A non,
"tbOTe is room caioogh in human life to crowd almost every art and science in it. If
*« ytm * no day without a line** — ^visit no place without the company of a book^-we may
^^taie fill llbrariea, or empty them of their contents. The nu>re we do, the more we
<*B ds; the moi« busy we are, the more leisure we have. — HiaUtU
28 PUBLXO IPBAKINa.
€^ Inrittifs' iBrtinn.
PUBLIC SPEAKING.
Haying in oar former yolaxne^ described at considerable length, and with a good deal of
minateoess, the method of representing outwardly the seyeral pastaons, feelings, detirei,
emotions, sensations, &c, which can affect the human mind, we now proceed to offer to oar
readers a few general remarks, which we hope maj be found serWceable in enabling such of
them as aim at the attainment of excellence in the Art of Speaking to succeed in their
endeavours.
Our first remark shall be one, the att«nding to which jou will find is all-importaot, viz.,
Be natural; feel yourself what jou endeavour to enforce upon the minds of others; be
earnestly zealous, and avoid affectation. If this be done, yon will find that the contagioa of
emotions affects the mind of others by that sympathetic connexion which the expression of
true passion invariably produces. The public have now learned to believe, with good <dd
fschyluB —
" Words are the connters which men cheat withal ;
Bat look — the speaking eye — the qiUTering lip —
The stricken heart, that sends up to the cheek
Its crimsoned flash — ^these only will I trast.
And these no proofs of speech can e'er gainsay."
If a speaker is thoroughly impressed with the importance of the topic upon which he
^eaks — if he is really sedulous to persuade and convince, rather than to cajole and please
— if his whole soul is wrapt up in the truths he is about to utter, then he need not fear,
lor he will be earnest, he will be natural, he will convince, and he must please.
2nd. Endeavour to correct that fluttering of the heart, confusion of mind, and ringtng
in the brain, which is apt to overcome yotmg speakers, from their tendency to believe
that the members of a meeting
" Make up in number what they want in weight,"
and thus become
" A many-headed font of wisdom."
Men do not become pretematurally wise merely because they are "in public meeting
assembled." Each man is as strictly individual then as in his own house. To believe
otherwise is to take measures to disconcert one's self — is to lay up a store of thoughts cal-
culated to occasion absurd bashfnlness, timidity, fearfulness, and consequently to produce
failure. Nothing is more correct, so far as public speaking is concerned, than that ** the
fear of man bringeth a snare." You must believe that you are superior to the public
before you venture to instruct the public; and should you stammer through your speech in
broken, abrupt sentences, through faintness of heart to fulfil your misskm? It requires
intrepidity of opinion and independent sturdiness of thought to tell the people home-truths;
and there is nothing else of which they stand so much in need as men of such a stamp.
3rd. Study conciseness of expression, perspicuity of thought, and precision of language.
Do not learn to play with your subject, and *' talk about it and about it," but get io
tte point, and Jbe^ to it. Do not attempt to set every sentence of a speedi in jewvU.
To nmlce every sentence equaUjr aoBonms, brilliant, smart, "pitti^, 8«i,, Ha \\vft m«\. wtUin
PVBUC 8PKAKINO.
t «f cansing the speech to he felt as borohastical or roonotonotu. It resemhlra a sea
i^ m a stonn; a skj of continiiooB and nerer-ending blue; a trade- wiad alwars
ri^; a changeless sameness, which cannot but fall npon the sense, and wearj the loal.
ical consecutiveness of thought, accuracy of statement, parity of expression, choicenew
» use of words, are the chief points deserving of attention ; gain these, and all other
gs win follow. A public speaker should possess the power of launching forth into
e, flashing, burning, sarcastic invectire, but should seldom employ it; should train his
i to the perception of character, and adapt his language and style to the occasion on
Ji, and the parties to whom, he speaks ; should have a vein of drollery and wit, which
be very sparingly used ; but he should never condescend to be the occasion of " th«
iog laugh of mde joke-catching ignorance."
th. *^ Every one must have remarked, that whatever impressions are intended to be
innd on the mind of man, are always best received when addressed to his heart, through
flMit common associations. Whether we wish to explain, to convince, to touch, or to
yigt, we most refer to something that is habitual and pleasing ; and therefore the use of
ns in eloquence is not so much to enrich and to deck, as to find admission to the soul
he hearer by all the paths which its own habits have rendered most easy of access.**
P. R. James'* JJarrdey, p. 133.
ipeech waa not given " to conceal our thoughts," but is, or ought to be, the expression
the mind. The mind of man, if powerful, can exercise a glorious dominion; but the
It captivating sovereignty which can be offered to it is to utter its thoughts in words,
'. go forth amongst men as a ministrant of gladness, instruction, and purity, an excitant
iofty deeds, and high and holy aspirations; — a dominion this which rules the spirits of
0, regulates their impulses, governs their thoughts, and is the real monarch of men's
idOi; a dominion this so grand, that man may well labour hard for its attdnmcnt. Bat
it remembered that a fearful responsibility lies with him who attains this monarchy of
sd. If hia eloquence be used in the cause of truth, justice, and right, in condenmation
^ftlsehood, oppression, and wrong; IF the cause of progress, and love, and good deeds, find
bim an ally ; and the retrogressive, the stationary, the fiendish, and the hate-engendering
Et in him a strong and a determined foe, it is well. But perfect eloquence may sometimes
ploy the deepest pathos, the mightiest agitations of thought, the fiercest torrents of
eetire and sarcasm against the true and the good ; may use the guise of truth, and
the itself in the garb of an angel of light, while it advocates the wrong, and insinuates
l-tophistrics as if they were sparks from the throne of heaven. It is true that
of this Satanic cast rules but for a moment, and that the good and the holy must
rdy triomph; but woe be to him who retards the world's progress even for a moment,
■nch tares in human souls as shall produce a harvest of distress. Let not then
I tednctions of present applause, the love of momentary reputation, cause you to cast
dc ahadows over the seals of men. Cherish in your heart the love of virtue, earnestness
fhe cause of troth, ckamess of thought, transparency of diction, graceful and becoming
fisB, a free, fluent, and ready delivery, a pure heart, a spotless character, a mind
^■■tiij bj falsehood, a sool strong in the cause of •progress, unflinching in its aii\ocaic|
Tai^; ednoite ytmnelf; think, act, speak, and fear not; for attention to \lie»« 1\^^
tba m>Me0t and mcBt Important part of the Art oi PahUc SpeaJdng.
so THE IMPORTAKCE OP A lUQHT SELECTION OF BRANCHES OF STUDY.
THE IMPORTAXCE OF A RIGHT SELECTION OF BRANCHES OF STUDY.
TnoM the limited powers of the fanman mind, and the restricted time which is osoallj
devoted to intellectual culture, it is important that a selection of objects should be
judiciously made from the numerous pursuits of literature and of science. That such a
selection should be made with a distinct reference to the engagements of future life, it is
readily conceded; but with a yiew to ultimate success, those engagements should be, in the
order of time, a secondary, and by no means a primary, object of attention. In a liberal
education there is much which is preliminary. No superstructure should be attempted till
the basis bo rendered broad and firm. The first object of solicitude should be to give
vigour and expansion to the faculties of the mind; and whatever pursuits are best adapted
to secure this end should be selected by the instructor, and by the learner should be
regarded with interest and prosecuted with ardour. Let him not imagine they are <^
Inferior importance because he cannot discern any direat connexion with the leading object
of his professional career. Let him rather inquire into their tendency to subject his mind
to a salutary discipline, and to form those habits of thought and study, by which his
future progress may be directed and facilitated. The student in theology, for examfde,
may perhaps entertain doubts with regard to the utility of studies in mailiematicSy or in ike
philosophy of the human mind ; yet it is not difficult to exhibit the direct and powerful
tendency of these pursuits to generate habits of incalculable value to those who, in the
discharge of their professional engagements, will find occasion for the exercise of accurate
discrimination, and the power of conclusive reasoning. Could it even be shown that the
researches of mathematical science, and of mental philosophy, would impart but little
infonnation of real value, still it might be contended, that the advantages accruing fram
the very efforts of intellectual energy which they call forth, must secure to the student an
ample remuneration for his expenditure of time, and to the tutor a full justification of the
course prescribed.
Such was the importance attached to mathematical studies by that able reasoner, the
late Bishop Watson, that he regarded an initiation into the processes of geometrical
demonstration as incalculably advantageous in promoting mental discipline. He stated it to
be his deliberate opinion, that were the attention restricted even to the first book of Euclid's
Elements, a familiar acquaintance with its reasonings could not fail to render substantial
benefit to the mind of the learner.
In recommending a vigorous application of the mind to the solution of a question of
difficulty in intellectual philosophy^ the late distinguished professor of moral philosophy in
the university of Edinburgh* thus urged and encouraged the efforts of the students: —
" In some former severe discussions like the present, I endeavoured to extract for yon
some little consolation from that very fortitude of attention which the discussion required,
pointing out to you the advantage of questions of this kind, in training the mind to those
habits of serious thought and patient investigation, which, considered in their primary
relation to the intellectual character, are of infinitely greater importance than the instruction
* Dr. Thomas Biown.
i!u(b ih> 4iiBti(iD iucif maj tflbrd. 'Stntnum animoi labor nMrif.' Id ths diadpUna
i-f imM, u in till tnioiug of tlu AlhlslK, it is not for k ^gle Ticttuj which it nuf
gin U tbc jouthful champion that ths combat ii to be Tila»l, but for that knitling
of ^Ae jniDtE, and hardeuiiig of the maacleB^ that qnickneM of «ye4 and colJccteJneaa of
don. whkh it ia Jbrming for the itragglti of more illiutrians fieldt." — Burdti'i ilmttd
liimiflac
SEPOETS OF MUTUAL IMPBOVEMENT SOCIETIES.
TV Si^ftertiBV Sacirli/, LtnulaiL—'mt !• t
^ mk AT K ■mul iocklr oT chriBtian young I ..^ _. _._
Dm. Old baa Hit iu dI)jfcI Uk inulkcuul n- ud iiiuUtMual ii
Sa* fcritttta. Ih* CUnt of BtOicioD ™°lW*l^'** •<ft™il^':«>!^T)ie r^l7t>ntj^
■— ^■»i«fTi)i»a«M«n.ii«..<tB..aiiJlhe«WBii) J -^^ -
38
BZPOBTB OF MUTUAIi UCPROVXlfSBrr SOCIBTIES.
cution, having been called to the ehair, addressed |
the meetmff (which was numerously and respect-
ably anenoea) iu a few words, eongratulatory of
ttie society's attaining its second annirersary, and
of the amount of intellectual work done by its
members during a period of two yean; and oon-
claded by calling on the honorary secretary, Mr.
John Cook, to read the ivport for the paat year,
which stated that from September, 1850, to July,
1851, ten subjects had been discussed, viz. : —
1. Was the execution of Charles I. justifiable?
3. Has the discoTerr of America been beneficial
to the world ? 3. was the banishment of Napo-
leon Bonaparteto SL Helena justifiable? 4. Has
the dlsc^ivery of gunpowder been beneficial to
mankind ? 5. Is the character of Queen Elizabetli
deserving of admiration ? 0. Ought Papi<<ts in a
Protestant country to have the same privileges
M where the Pope's authority is recognised?
7. Had William the Conqueror any right to the
British throne? 8. Is war^ under any circum-
stance, opposed to Christiamty ? 9. Had Clvarles
Edward, the Pretender of 1745, any right to the
British throne? 10. Was the execution of Lady
Jane G rey justifiable ?
Six essays had also been read by members of
the association on Uie following subjects : —
1. On chirogi-aphy, and the benefits derivable
therefh)m. 2. On music. 3. On the xise and
progress of language. 4. On man, the superior
of creation. 5. On man's happiness. 6. On de-
cision of character.
On the 14th of August last, a lecture on astro-
nomy was delivered to the association by the
Bev. James SoolL
The report was unanimously adopted, and
ordered to be placed on the minutes of the meeting.
The following resolutions were then moved,
seconded, su.'iialned, and unanimously carried :*—
1. " That as our interests as intelligent beings
are ereatly promoted by the cultivation of the
mino, the prosperity of our association ought
ever to be a matter engaging our warmest con-
sideration.'*
2. " That being alive to the importance of a well-
disciplined and informed mind, the members of
this association are detennined, by God's help, to
increase their efforts to secure those advantages
which always result from a vigorous and per-
severing pursuit of knowledge."
3. " That while it is to be regretted that there is
so much indifllerence manifested in this colony
with respect to Mutual Improvement Associa-
tions, the members of this society ardently hope,
that Uie time is not dUtant, when many, having
the welfiire of the natives at heart, but who have
hitherto kept aloof from such imttitotions, will, by
Iheir countenance and support, give an impetus
to the noble work of mutual improvement. "
4. " That while the cultivation of the mind is a
dn^ incumbent on all men, it is especiallv so
with Christians, who are the servants of that &od,
one of the principal features of whose character is
intelligence."
5. " That this institution^ being based on
^ristian prinoioles, is an mnooent, a lawful,
and yet a powerml means of advancing; the intel>
leotnal and moral welfare of young men in
general*"
The bosineas of the association being now
brought to a close, the rev. patron vacated the
chair, which was taken by the vioe>patnm, the
Rev. Charles Kattray , and a cordial vote of thanks
to the former was passed unanimously. The
friends invited and members of the association
tlien sat down to a richly-furnished repast, after
which they separated, highly gratified with the
proceedings of the evening. — J. C. D., Jun.
Teadon Mutual Improvement ' Society. — On
Wednesday, November 5th, the members of tliU
society held their sixth annual soiree, on which
occasion upwards of 400 persons took tea toge-
ther in the old chapel schoolroom. The room
was tastefully decoraied. After tea, the chair was
taken by the Uev. Robert Holmes, Baptist
minister. The report of the society was read by
Mr. J. K. Brown, secretary, and addresses were
delivered by the Rev. Jos. Shaw, luriependcat
m'mister, Rawden, Mr. A. Dick, W. £. Forsier,
Esq., Mr. P. Slater,and several other members of
the society. It appeared f^om the report that
the society was in a very flourishing conditioti.
During the past year twenty -four members had
been enrolled, making a total of ninecy*six bona
Jide members. Ten lectures had been delivered
during the year, and the attendance had been
very good. During the year seventy volumes
had b«en added to the library, making a total of
upwards of 300, while the number of issues durin?
the year amounted to upwards of 1^300. Thr
treasurer reported a balance in fhvour of tlie
society.
The Kilmarnock Young Men» Biblical A*^o-
ciation. — In the beginning of last month, fifteen
young men in this town met for the purpose oj
forming a society for the moral and intellectixal
improvement of its members, by means of essays
and extracts on subjects connected with scripture
Rules were drawn up, for some of which -^-i!
are indebted to your "model rules," which ]
introduced to their notice. The society Is fomncti
on principles similar to those of "The Londor
Young Men's Christian Association." The oj>en
ing lecture was delivered by the president. Join
Stewart, Esq. The second lecture was deliverer
the following week by Mr. William M'Whlrt^r
subject — " The claims of the Bible upon our care
fnl and prayerful stady." It was a riefa treat ;
learned, beautiAil, neat, and elaborate addres»]
The members then began to give an esaay, «
extract, each week in rotation. The fltat was oi
"The present condition and fhture prospects i
man." The second was read last night ; its ^\tl
ject—" Timothy." The essays are restriotea 1
twenty minutes; and then the members ai
allowed ten minutes each to make remarks up«]
them, and upon the subjeets of which they tr^s
Our soeiety now numbers about thirty me7nt>ei
and all seem well pleased with what has airvac.'
been accomplished, and are fhll of hops for tl
ftttore, anticipating a rich harvest of lasting i^ch
in the developing and expanding of their Intel !<
tual powers, and in purifying and alevatmR tit*
moral natures. I am sure you will be hiirli
gratified to hear of another society havinf^ l>«-i
formed for the improvement of yoan« iiMsn ,
whom yon feel so deeply interested — R. K., J u
THB nrQUIKBK.
8S
€lft 3iiiitrirtL
10.
aCESTIOVS BEQUIBIKG ANSWERS.
Vo«M sooM of 7<nir corretponilentt kindly
a ** Subscriber" wtutt would be the ex-
of beiBg articled to a •olicitor, and what
«Nid be the reiatirt; proportion of time spent at
Ik* 4eric and at atody r
6&. I aa deairoas of becoming proficient in
VcBtal Arithnietic, and abuold esteem it a favour
trnj «f jour numerous readers would dirert me
lithe best method for attaining this olpect.— C. Y.
m, Bcnsrmbering the answer giren bj a
kaaed man a» to how he became posMssed of
M BMch knowledge, " bjr not bring afiraid to
■k,"! icmtare Co solicit a repljr to the follow-
iait:— What are the peculiar dooCrines of Pan-
isnd Raii<malism? — REPrsLirAX.
C^rtk^imiam A'wa^s.— The Ph<mucian9
Cvthaginians (and indeed all the great
i« of antiquitf ) gave names to pertom§ partly
of the namea of their several divinities ;
Atibml signifies Buml is my father, or my
Bthfrca/, with Ba*l: Asdrute/,
hilpar aMJitiiiirr of Bmal; Hannibal, grace or
mwttf of B*ml. These examples have been col-
keisd froB Gesenins, &c., and the following two
■^■1, OMBtioned in C. Crispi *' SallusiQ Juger-
Iha," cap. si. sect. 5, are evidently of the same
~ ' and Mastaualwf. What
fiwnp^?*'*'* and meaning of each name 7 —
«. W. H.
71. In Laid Byron's Unes to Inex, in the first
easuaf bis ** Childe HaroM" occurs the follow-
** Itb thai settled, ceaaeleas rloom.
The fiibled Hebrew wanderer bore;
Thaft will not look fteyond the <owb,
Bat eannot hope tor rest before."
CoaM any of yo«r eorrcapbndenta kindly inform
aae ts wftnm BTfon lefeiied in these lines? —
FiacLia.
72. VQl ■ay of your correspondents inrorm
mm «f dw beat method of aeqairiug facility in the
of PMnofKte M avde ? I have been in
for three or four hours a
day 9at the laac two years without attaining skill
MirfiariifT ^T A
13. How ahoiold a person b««in and pursue
%m ^tmtf of Botany, who is entirely ignorant of
k? 9mi can be hope to aueoaed without the aid of
i^rtT* ' B. M.
H. ViU any of your eorrespondrata inform
method of studying Euclid, and
>it Is uct-iesaiy to draw all the diagrams,
o read aDd understand the propo-
t?-4:. M.
ia engaged in the sdiolastic
, and iiMrery aauDoua to gain admission
with a view
but, unfortunately,
liary qualification.
of effecting a project »o very desirable to him,
under existing circumstances.
76. I am quite unaccustomed to composition,
and for that reason may I'xpress myself obscurely
in endeavouring to roidce known my wants.
1st. How shall I attain fluency of language?
Cicero and IMiny, I perceive, adviMC the trans-
lation or gootl works trom one language to
another. Greek and Latin I do not understand;
French and German I do a little. 2nd. How
shall I secure a systematic arrangement of ideas 7
3rd. Would the sUidy and committal to me-
mory of the fini'St orations of Cicero or Demos-
thenes in their English garb be of itervice, or
would the attentive reading of some of our own
poets be more so? It it is thought that compo-
sition would be preferable to translation, I shall
enrol myself as a subscriber to your ** Young
Student and Writer's AssisUmL"— H. T. M.
77. Will some of vour correnpondents inform
me of the best work by which I may obtain a
sound and true tlieory of Mental Philoso^ihy,
based on the physical nature of man, and em-
bracing the subjects of life ; raind, its dependence
on, and indc|)cndpnce of, organization : sanity of
mind; morbid impulses; tlioughts, and feelings.
I have seen Johnson on " Life, IlealUi, and
Disease" ; Combe on " Physiology" ; and Knight's
edition of Soutiiwood Smith's " Philosophy of
Health." In tlie preface and end of tliis last
work it is stated, that it is intended to be intro-
ductory to an account of the physical and men-
tal powers of roan : can you inform me if this
work b published? In Chambers's ** Wonders
of Human Folly, ' Upbnm's " Outlines of Imper-
fect Mental Actiion," and Sampson on " Crimmal
Jurisprudence." are recommended: would either
of these aid me in attaining the object I have in
view?— P. S.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
61. Musical ^(/t*ice.— Should H. W. H. be able
to avail liimself uf a good master, anil de%ote
several hours daily to practice, be mivht no
doubt arrive at great proficiency in playing the
pianoforte, as he must possess an ear for music,
otherwise he could not ke^ in time and tune in
joining in singing. — B.
64 and 06. AdmisMton to the EngUik Bar. —
Having seen the question of D. 6. B., I beg
to offer a few suggestions, such as he may find
of use. As I am in the legal profession he may
depend upon what I say as actually true.
D. G. B. should have specified which Bar he
desired hi know about, the Chancery or Common
Law ; but as I am thoroughly aoquamted with the
first-named, my remarks will bear upon that
division only.
D. G. B. may, perhaps, be aware, thai % ukA
college education in nearlT mdwv>enMb\e tot %
gieari/ ohii/red to •ajjjoang cirocate ; and, besides, if b* has noWeoi
to btn the I to one of tlte universities, hU coutm ot Tead\v«
34
THE IKQUIBER.
The first step, then, is to become a member of
one of the Inns, by entering your name on the
books of the society you select. There is Lin-
eohi's Inn, Middle and Inner Temple; Gray's
Inn is nearly an obsolete one now.
You then become pupil to an equity draughts-
man, with whom you stop six or twelve months.
If you think by hard study (which all embryo
lawyers must practice) that you will be tolerably
proficient in the technicalities of the profession
at the end of six months, you pay the gentleman
you read with fifty guineas. If you require dou-
ble that time, you must also double the fee.
The expense of entering your name on the
books of a society, *• eating your tenns," &c., is
about 120 guineas. The Society of Lincoln's Inn
requires you to enter into a formal bond.
It is, of course, obvious, that only a moneyed
man can become a barrister, because there is much
expense — the expense of entering your name, of
eatin|[ your terms, of paying your pupilo^e fees,
of taking chambers, and of purchasing a library.
I forgot to say, that after eating your terms for
about eight months, you are " called to the bar,"
and this irrespective of your legal acquirements.
Next, as to the " plan of study." This is all-
important. The really good lawyer should oim,
not only at a perfect knowledge of the Eughih
law, but also tolerably to understand that of old
Home, and especially that of Scotland; for when
the advocate goes before the House of Lords, a
knowledge of the latter is frequently required.
The art of preparing bills, answers, demurerrs,
exceptions, pleas, &c., will all be taught him by
the gentleman D. 0. B. reads with. The standard
work here used, is Van Heythusau's "Equity
Draughtsman ; " but this chamber business has
been much abridged by the last orders ol Lord ;
Chancellor Cottenham, by which short claims
are now used instead of bills in many instance.^.
The very best books that D.6. B. can purchase
are the following, to be read in the order thejr are
plaofd:— Sydney Smith's "Chancery Practice,"
two volumes, 'last edition; Sydney Smith's
** Hand-book" ; Bowyers " Lectures at the Tem-
ple " ; Bowyer's " Constitutional Laws of
£ug]and" ; Shelford on " Mortmain" ; Koper on
"Legacieji" ; Roper on " Husband and Wife";
Mr. Justice Williams on "Executors"; Sugden
on "Venders and Purchasers" (Dart's Abridg-
ment is a very good one|; Spences " Principle of
the Court of Chancery ' ; these and many more
will D. G. B. require.
In conclusion, I beg to say, if D. G. B. would
fhinish any address where a letter could be sent,
I would willingly forward to him a more explicit
letter of suggestions than this; and having a
practicid knowledge of the law myself, my hmts
might show him the shortest method of acquiring
its rudiments. — Justinian.
65. Electro-Biology and Braidism. — Electro*
Biology is a designation recently applied to Uie
mesmeric phenomena by Dr. Darling and other
lecturers, and means, literally, the electric doc-
trine of life. This doctrine ihey infer fh>m the
means they use to produce the hypnotic or mes-
meric state; viz., fixing the attention of each
patient upon a small disc of zinc and copper,
which he is made lo place on the palm of one of
A* h&ntis. Mr. Bnitf, of Manchester, maintains
tOMf a Mimilmr effect would be produced by length-
900a gnze upon anj olyeet, and chat, thmforv.
there is nothing of an electric nature connected
with it. He says, " The true cause of this * vigi-
lant phenomena,' is not a physical influence from
without, but a mental delmiion from within, whidi
paralyzes their reason and independent volition,
so that, for the time being, they are as mere
puppets in the hand.^ of another person by whom
they are irresistibly controlled, and can only see,
or hear, or taste, or feel, or act, in aocordanoe
with his will and direction. They have thdr
whole attention fixed upon what may be said or
signified by tliis superior power; and, conse-
quently, perceive impressions, through the excited
state of the organs called into operation, which
they could not perceive in Uieir 01-dinar^ con-
dition." After detailing a number of expenments
made by himself on patients in the waking posi-
tion, he adduces the following : — ^" In like manner,
several other patients whom I took into the dark
closet could see nothing, until told to look ateadilT
at a certain point, and they would see flame and
light of varying colours proceeding from it, which
predictions were speedily realized, whilst they
were wide awake, and with nothing but baro
walls toward which to direct their eyes. Not
only so, but I have, moreover, ascertamed that,
even in broad daylight, a strong mental impra^
sion is adequate to produce such delusions wi0i
certain individuals of a highly imaginatire and
concentraiive turn of mind. This fact is beanti-
fully illustrated in the case of a gentleman,
twenty-four years of age, who had suffered
severely from e])ilep8y for eleven years. When
token into the above closet, and tested as the
latter, he likewise saw nothincr, till I suggested
that he would see flame and light ; afler whioh
prediction he very speedily saw it accordingly,
not merely where the magnet was, but also fh>m
the otlier parts of the apartment Now this
patient, and the two last referred to, when taken
into tlie closet after the magnet had been a lonft
time removed to a dbtant part of the house, still
saw Uie flames — a clear proof that the whole
was a mental delusion, arising fW>m an excited
imagination, on the point under consideration,
changing physical action." — A. C.
67. TheLaiv — Solicitors. — In answer to a "Sob-
scriber," the first and certain expense of his being
articled to a solicitor is £\'20 for the stamp upon
which the articles are engrossed. The preimum
to be paid for instruction, &c., varies in uearir
ever)' case. If you wish to be articled to a soli-
citor of good standing, and to board and lodge in
Uie house during the five years of articles, £500
would not be out of the way. If you have taken
a degree at either of the universities your term
of articles will be three years only ; and doting
the la^t session of parliament an act was passed
extending this privilege to ceruin studoits
therein euomeratod. In such case your premiam
would be proportionately less. With respect to
the relative proportion of time at tlie desk and at
study, this will depend, first, upon the arrange-
ment made at the commencement ; secondly, upon
the extent of business in the office ; and thirdly,
upon your own inclination. If you desire to
understand not merely the theory, but the prac-
tical and mechanical branches of your profession,
you will not mind sitting prety closely at the
desk, at least during the first year or two of your
term. You w\V\ %v\u ftad \ime for your studies,
and wlU undentand VkMin ^uet Un M«sv&«wBMb>
in hii "Akoudc ot the EiUnlJuj^ Beu^al
School/' Lhou^b it would ha*e beon mom ■Mil'
lo ptrfoRD Uw optnttioi, rhjin left to rl«Ui, whJla
Ibe juutlon la umltr dlL'tuiun (tlnnigb ii slioulil
bt dKiuud with impvlitj wbich would not Mmut
ourHlin lo Uki down mnvlTllir UTi)riDiIlipim|,
toJmauid STCTTlhiiif
•micjuKify it. amilr lo liim
„ in tbt ordiiivT ■«/, in leH Uibh onf^lLinl of a
buarmuh* J4PUJ- vn-tina HaTBimcrm; I Utiaute; Uld if ■lloVCd tO p0rjurua tbe DJieTOtiDtl
v ID u>T witb' bim but '■'iJlHck ur kcoiuIl Ml otba culailatioDi ijiij prrfonu with
■ *eani,lt rarmfaBmi. Itu no .liiinn i;rot>wtioi.«l »rirllj. TbcH moJei ol worliiDg
intauua thu otHT or in briiliUii on durlni dinMion (irXrii olloiml; im Ku^uliona
s ten ibiu mUiwd ill nnti. Wh> iboi "' ''■"' *>*"' '" """ "^ '<> "^•'> «cb oibcr,
KtamkiinfUhrrr—C. W.Jun. •nd not t^URbl bj the tnijilf r.-
. Jlimm Ariihmiiit.—inow mt to dirrct I « e luni to tilt iwonil >on of duduI iriiLninlF :
L«ver be fbreoilra i
jiulKaoH, ihen ii noLhiuK like IhB nidj know-
Itifee or dRimil rrutioiu ; mill Hi ml] the iJtu-
l^gei or dHisiU fruciloni, iiouf ij sa ciiupicuout
In eanimcrcill irilbnietictutlMUKorULedKiDul
owinKlb
ih whilis lu
■ d«dmAl GuinigF Id
uruifiuf to Ilk« pvtieiiiv immben to b* uh Kiinapv Btuidi, to levn h rule bj wbich
lia tor the iHpflr procM* u ror i wcimili. to >T^ntii the ^■i?*'^'
et Mm^g^OKBlS uilhnKt far Iki .^i Ikrrt flara nf tit
X of UhBiiI hm, ukc ih> iuldlii< " ?' '"''""'■.— *l"' J '" *• ""'
.™.. .^_.« ~ „,. - - . -- Jrtiing tht,. __
rail (Or the piper proc™ u ror i ^'^"'wi'" "S"' "" ^'S'T uT"" "j!"'^
iriki jtiif MrRvlnrni/ilKiwiiri.tba njo
follows:— Allow 1 In Ih> Urn pliiq Tor every
_ _ _ _ iMir or ihiUingi, Hid flU Ihp »«oiid uid UJii
W nfemld be added firu, ai^ lio mtbinl ; li ''•™' i^* ""• •" ""T hrtbind (bDv* the ihU-
Ift^btenon^satdawuonilHniMrWou CiM: Si. 7|d. 1* X-ffil i ITi. lIHli /SW.
nf«i* HttTwri^ IbM Ok ifmmalBM . For l\fJ>,*Ttk tniiflh p^ata ^i^cimtU. flU
-_^iMiHilt ef ItoMMd kipd,^l^k<^ ni]« ( *"" ""^* "" '"^ 'J^"'J .■'"'.y* '*,'J|'*,' '"^
irlhinn ui«i|. ' Tbui lor *i>l. ilia rouith Hid
iRh pftcn ire Ilitx4 o^ rS-4-3or;$i rOrlfd.,
"liiilMirii oa Ik p^cr ■■ k to in Ibe mind. lunbir of (hnbinia ahnv lAi lail (Arrr Aa(/jiriu«
faltiMkd; BdkvaaildiHBui/ whuthe '^ fiinira in ihi^Tnnian nland lo ■ d«faB«l.
«*Bfa*ira vn ItaiiHht ipplled to • ilav p« * mnenilwrri, nuotlj :—
96
THE IMQUIBEB.
It is not often, peiiuips, that more than five
jtocim«l» ftre wanted, aiiil three will most flre-
4aent]y be snffleient ; but those rules «re valuable
1^ wbiob, in case of need, approximation oan be
«Ktended. A very little praotioe would enable any
one to use the preceding rules so as to write down
•t onoe, to any extent required, any decimal of a
I>ound; instead of £176 I3s. 10|<<., for instance,
to put down £176 0947916666, &o. Considering
the rery great facilities afTorded by this rule, which
■re more than those who have not tried it have any
idea of, it would be worth whUe to a«ve trouble
jet further by learning tbe multiples of 4 up to
§3x4 or 93. and thotte of l^d. up to one shilling.
The inverse rule, to turn a decimal of a poimd
into money, is as follows : — A pair of yhillings for
every unit in tbe first place ; a shilling for 50 (if
•o much) in the second and third places ; a farthing
for every unit left in the second and third places,
after abatement of 1, if what is left be 35 or
upwards. Thus £-477 is 9s. 6id., and £-317 is
4«. 4id.
The labour of questions in commercial arith-
metic is much more than halved by the use of the
preeeding rule, and the risk of error reduced in
proportion. It is* not easy to make those believe
ttiis who hare grown up in the use of the ordinary
methods. We shall pomt out a few of the advan-
tages attending the transformation, in rendering
questions rapuUe of being solved mentally, with
ease and dispatch.
The two great modes of estimating fractions of
a anm, namely, the number of shillings, &c., in
the pound, and the per centage which the part is
of the whole, can be reduced to one another, or
elttier mode compared with the other, almost in-
atantaneonsly. Suppose,forexample,itis required
to know how much per cent, of his debts he can
pay whose assets are Rs. 7jd. in the pound. Tbe
regular book- arithmetician would proceed as fol-
lows:—
percent
As£l
20
: 6s.
12
103
4
lyi.
:: 100
415
30
12
960)41501
384
340
4
415
310
388
MO
S3
The one who is used to shorten his rules will
•aj that 8s. is 40 per oeut, and 6s. M. 43| per
oeut., and will perhaps rest satisfied with that
approximation. But the method we advocate
anabtes us to write down at once '493 as the frac-
tion which 8«. 7|d. is of a pound, and thence to
name 43^ per oenL as the proportion required.
If still greater precision be demanded, the advan-
tage is still greater; fbr -43339 gives £43 4s. 7d.
per cent.
With regard to most mlea of abbreviation there
la tills to be said, that however convenient they
nay be, each in its place, they will be to seldom
icqoired that they will be forgotten : so that, when
n occasion fbr the use of any one ottbem arises,
one person will have finished tiie question in the
tmiiaajjr mode, whiJe another is neorering the
MMitfriaied rule. It is only with impeet to pro-
.yr ^ •"'• ^ *• «<•« muitwl that such
therefore worth their trouble : emeh kind
of business has iu own cases, which need onir
be learned by those who are to attend to thatbu»>
ness. Iu the books of arithmetic there is &e
ftiult of presuming that every pers<m is to leam
every variety of commercial rule fry rote ; com-
pound interest and the deteiminaiion of tlM price
of a mixture from that of the materials are sup-
posed to be eqiudly necessary to all, though the
subdivision of business makes it as oertain as any
thing which can be predicated of two rules of
arithmetic, that no one who requires one of the
above rules will require the other. A misuke of
the same kind is very likely to be oommitted in
teaching rules of abbreviation.
The time is not yet come for a very extensive
use of tebles in mercantile afiairs ; nor can it
come until a decimal coinage is established.
When the present coinage has become matter of
history, it will not be the least amusing anecdote
connected with it, that the ^at financiera of the
nation were so much afiraid of the fradiuns of
their own money, that they preferred to loee eight
pounds out of three hundrod in the collection of
a tax, that it might be exactly seven pence in the
pound, rather than let it be three per cent. It is
obvious enough that the income tax was meant
for the nearest approximation to tlu-ee per cent,
which would give an exact number of pence in
the pound; and it was supposed, for example,
that iu calculating the tax on £587. the first of the
following calculations being the easier would be
substituted for the second or more difficult : —
587
587
7
3
13)1109
17,61
30
13,30
IS
SO) 343^
£17 8s. 5rf.
S,40
4
1,60
Annrer £17 ISs. 2^.
But, in truth, had the rule for procuring the deci-
mal parts of a pound been well known, it would
have been easier to do the second than the first,
as follows : —
587
3
1761 17-610= £17 ISs. t}d.
If any person not much acenstomed to oompo-
tation, and feeling its difficulty, ahouUl endeavour
to mend his habite by the praotioe of the tdrtmakBig
recommendations, we warn him that be will h«ve
his period of difficulty, during whida he will not
be able to see that he gains anything. He has to
ar^inre what he probably never aimed at befors,
quick and ready habits of doing a lew aimple
Uiings. WidMHit resolute determwalkm be will
do nothing; if he feel that he is not of tbe nature
of those who £ue difficulties and eoiiqiaer Axm,
be had better not prooeed to the triAl. There is
no use in disguising the UmA that persons of ordi-
nary memones never become good computers
withoQt hard wmk in4 «ta«i^
oa Hm oHmr hn4, 'A woail
k'vpersevcrtuoe; hoi.
Tin: Y<H NO <sTri)KNT \NF) U IITTKI. S \-si^iANr.
^rauk« IS not neceksary. As far a« nicre coiii-
p-jaooQ foet, th«« is no rmod whT exoeltonos
kboald D^t be attuned in nix montha. Ahnoit
nj ya»on may become tuch an arithmetician,
M Mi fipnrr* are aa htemij aa the laws of the
IUb and Penuaos, ycara and yean before an
mdcnt in alfpebra nill attain aa great a
(tnee of unifbnn dnrectneiia in the use of the
signs + aiid — . And as h quaint llindou writer
■ru off tbiu, ** He who distinctly and aeTerally
knows ad<Utiun and the rest of the twenty logistics,
and the eight determinations, inoloding measure-
ment by shadow, ia a mathematician ;" so we will
end by sajinff— He who can easily, nqddlT, and
accuratiily add, subtract, multiply, and di\ida, is
a computer.— A.C.
€Iii -^■'inrag Itnhul iralr WnUts assistnut.
K
r
LOGIC CLASS.
' om the Art n/ReatmuMg. — A'o. XI.
I. Viih what is the Mind of Man naturally
1 IVhat is ObMTration ?
i. Vhat ia Hypolhtntis ?
1 What ia the part which Induction occupies
B ainocination 7
i. Vbat ia Theory ?
4. How do the«fr unitedly operate in the in-
▼e«ic«tMm of Truth *
7. tiiTecxamplea of their unified action.
In order that mcmben may be the better able
to judge of their own proficiency as compared
with that of other mcmbvni, the teacher prppo«ea,
when acknowledging corres]iondence on the
wrapiN>n. to ronuect the numbers of the pnmosi-
tions which each {fcrson is aucceaaful in aolring
with his initials.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
J>e9ign qf Clmu.
Ii may be well to slate at the outset that this
Haa« 19 r»p«ciaily designed for the beucAt of
jjuBg men and other* who arc desirous of ob-
tainac a knowledge of mailiematics, but who
b»« iiec the advantage of a liTing teacher. If,
Iherdae^che exercises and solutions are lound to
be ef a rfaaiaeter so aimplr as to yield compara-
ttrdf bole pleaaune or profit to the advanced
BMbematician. he will have the kindneas tu bear
ia Moad that die daaa has not been opened fur
Uirsperial benefit.
Tbc plan vhirb tSieteadier of this class intends
to naioe ia aa follows : —
1. To prepare, fhmi time to time, a number nf
mitions in Arithmecie, Algebim, Geometry, and
ibchanica, ahich inrolve important principles.
S. To receive from the members of hia claaa
soladons lo tiba queatkma ; which aolutions, if
swircc, and provided they come within eertain
nks of oovTcapofidenDa (given oo the wrapper
4f te picacnt number), will be acknowledged.
3i. To pu^lbh, frvmi time to time, the beat aolu-
tes wloch be mi^ lecciTe, wiih aneh notea aa
be WKf ttriak fkwlalad lo render the aolution
i. It will be hia pitrilMe anmiany to award eer-
dlHtoaofaaarit, printed on bcauiiiulljanboaacd
m^ In ifili hnoMB, to ttaa threa best in eadi of
*i hDowmf dimiona 1
L - ■
1
QUESTION'S FOR SOLUTION.— I.
Arithmetic and Algebra.
1. There are said to be IfiOOflOO tona of iron
emelted per annum in Great Britain ; the specifie
gravity of cant iron is 7-24H. llequired the side of
a cube that would contain that quantity.
i. There is a rectangular field, the Imgtb of
which is WM) links, and the breadth H70 links; in-
cluded, howeTcr,in thin admeasurement is a ditch
whieh equals one-twentieth of the whole, and tXr
tends half round the field. Re<iuired its width.
:i. A certain man found gold coins of the re-
spective values of S7«. and ilt. each. Now, for
every two that he found of the greater value he
found three of the lesser value; and the entire
worth of what he foimd was 041. 7s. Uow many
did he find of each?
4. A geni-ral distributed to 9 captains, 18 lien-
tenants, and 135 common soldiers, the sum of
l,7fl9/. ]7t. To every lieutenant he gave twice aa
much as to a private soldier, and to every i*iii*|n
three times as much as to a lieutenanL ilow
much did each receive ?
Oeometry.
1. Theaidea of a triangular field an l,S»0,l;990,
and A&5 links resprctively. Kequiied the peipcn-
dicttlar, and an explanation of the priueiidea upon
which the opex>siion is foimded.
St. The arva of the Exhibition building ia 1^B4S
by 408 feeL Uequired the diameter or a eirole
containing an equal area.
JfircAoRJcs.
1. Required the unite of work neceaaaiy to
turn a block of granite in the form of a ouba on
to iu edge, auppoaing its side to be 7 feet, and a
cubic foot of It to weigh 170 lb.
5. How many feet of water will an engine of
70 horse power raise per hoar from a deplb of
190 Ibihoms? Explain the operations in bofli
gnfes iif 36nnlB.
ta ftpiwar fUhimiHble and
len of Uw^eni, phjiicUu,
in. Diifatiw, of Xnorlfisf. Sj Tb™
Slck.LL.D. UuDdM: F.Sh»w.
•deaa In pul (icei linXukM a Bloomr IhOMh mi»>'id™i oiil of *IW of tta huiaui n« Uut
we lKli"e trulhftU, riew of Uitir porfilon in lbs P""f* .'''■ '.'"l ", ? ™ti°?»l fmelliftmi betog,
maeDt. Ho n«t ditell. upou the mmu lo be emoloj-iiig hu fcculuej in thoM ttwn. of thoorft
Bi«llo r«lwUie great msM of ■ocWy from their ■ndMliveMerei«i*luch ue nonhy ofm iniel-
to- mtu^ Sojiro™™" ™* side™! u linle lupprior In digniij lo the lowat
We commnHl Ibo foliowing einKt lo Uic Mien- '"^'" "' uiimeled ciuwr«.
pwpte i> necmnpluhey, or thu Ibcre i» ne bbmj- tlattmmu, but pvm winu lo hi> iraiLiioiuion, ukd
■ily fbr gnu HraettiKU In th» maHer:— prcsenU ■! leul ■ duilisg pnupecl of (tunn
tictf<iti[S Swiuirlwiil BiidUio Suiesof Auerit". "1 behold in Ibe proipeot of fUlort tgf tba
ioIcIhgentUiui
uuntry. u
LI the QiHt abiurd ind lup^r- peiiod, Hdomed wilh vrgelable ind AntaitHBin]
4nd the grosHit Ignorance beeuUet; our descrti tnn^rarmed into fruitAil
important eub.ievta intimBtcl^ fields ; our iDarflhe* drained ; our gardnia pr^
iiLuiaji happLnut, uil] prevail duciug Ibe ft^ts of vrerj dime; our hiffhwaji
majority oi the populiuiDn, Of bioad ai>d Bpacieus, and at the dbtanoe of erefjr
any ■ubjecl of imponance beyond tht raJifce of laid cip^n lo Ihr light of heaven ; and our namv
their dally avocalLDOB. With reipecl to the re- atreets expanding into apacioua 9-]uarea, eheered
propriety, that of Ibe lln*'J*and oiairnitudHof tbe and veniilalcd wiib the rvfmhiiu? breexe; oar
irorld tfaey live in — of Iheaeos, rifera, conliumta, dcn^ly crowded dtiea almoil completely da-
and iaiande. wliich diverGify iia auHkce, and the molished, ajid new citiea arising from Lbeir ruina,
Tvioua bibca of mm and animaU by which it ie on noble and ekpanaive planfl^ correapDndijig to
Inliablted — of the natmv and propertiet of the (hp cxpamiTe elate of the human miu^
raspecUng light, by Ibe hind of «
1 indmHT. *
beat, electricity, and magnetum — of Ibe genml cuLtinif down of fomla, Ibe draining of manb
law* which regulate the economy of nature— of and Ihe unirenal culdratlon of the soil; I
and mechanical i^ower* — oflhemouonfland aag- aophic nage, and the foriied lightningi, direo
^Tin^P^;
lion, in the re^on of die cloud,. I behoU
■nmt of Ihe Su{
Freme Being— of the genuine prin-
balloonibroughl to perfection, Iranaporting mul.
elplet of moral 1
IctioD.and of many other aubjeeu
lltudei of human beinga IVom one dly lo anotha.
ralloDal and immorul being, they
arealmoalaae.
itinly ignonnl a> Ifae wandering
linent to another, wilt adarte of lelocity whioli
TaiW, or the u
ntuloMl Indian.
hai ne.er yet been allediptod. 1 behold tb*
-■Ofsoo.ooo.o
00 of hnman beings which people
Jt. Klob. -*■]
naCire, no longer loaming the deaen <Hid aad
ajno.ooa iihoa>
Jbrltaeir own aalie. or &nm a pure lore of icience, ingbiafaeultieato tbeimprovemaolofhiiapflelea,
iDdepeiidenllyof the kaDw]ed|fere<iuiaile for their audio the moat aublLme iarealifnliona. [ behold
re^p^odre pn^fftmiona aad tmp}ojmtDU ; tor we men of all nationa and kindred* cultivating a
^ajt fteJadf fivni Use nnk of nXfonal Inoniiera baimonioDi and friendly iatereourae— Iba tribva
<^riaawled^ til thome wlia ban ae^tditd a of New Holland, 'Komeo, ftumutv, tad Hada.
nmnrnnofarJrmniiag trith Be otber rinr than lo gtigai,*MttBt ike 'BAUb lite iA& 'tea vn*«>-
I I pMBIII. Vhlje ■jre^i uuauuuua •> u« wv^n
Itflrf^ IMr leinitn : a Familinr Ea.tm''l<™
lb Jrt ^ JtMHinr. Bj ■ Fdi..!. of t
lij.1 SKitlT. LowIdd; longmKi, Brow
"UfllU|F»IU,]kllll
IB " conduci of Uis WJi^rvtu
havr tpp<diTJ Ed Ihit ^«rtoi[i«]» ih<
i-oDiuDcd ill ikiis work will fonn ui ■tcr
iJki^fU] pntjtit upon tbi
LougDjaDfBruTi
* , ]ihtl4fupbLnl, wid po-
ntdtr to purtbuv uiil Mddy lb.
iiiulvTlrmiiiinFrwithDiH>lofthr]iroininnitJ(lndfl
or modtm uubclkir, apcciiiUjr wlib Ibc MlUlflld
rmlionHL, i,*', the myihic nuirMl of Ifaeokfriiiu.
uilnil lltde apoldinu vill llliii.
juia TTpmpnt Hfuon anil Faith u Ivin-bom;
I vat, in form uul luMrt* Ihv inii|r* or muilf
lutj, — Uh aiIwt, or Ivminlno gnev ubd gnll^
n. Whitf tbs blight nn of KutoD hr AiD of
](» iDMliimiH, hi> »ri> cloitd
hih Fiiib hu ui ev orriqiiitite
IhEiiuibwnplirilniuii. Hud
t thfoaBh'l world on which, lilw
i ni^hl null alumaltlT; bj
■na ay mjiBi, us Mr oi ruu » to* jniids of
HcMon- AB Ib wont with (bwe who viffirr under
luch prlvatloD^. niip«Uv«lf , Kcaioa ti ipi lo b«
eagtr, impMaaiu, innuifnl of UiVI inatrueUon
■pprBhmd; while y^lh, ffmllfl Ind dorile^ tl
e«cr wllhng to liHUn to tb« Toice tij which alono
Llllli A irv'l ^slWof «( IA< Orml ErUtitio,,.
By the Editor of" rleHwil Ftgi'i." London :
tunc ««r Miflfr'an. ItUnotni^KuUrly liiAeat
■WiomiaatiiAi on Dm lul^ek. nor U it it
■ naloizvl *tew of Iba awiuo, but a Kri»
lilfatl wiJ MlygadMarln span a lew of I
■Mlii iif |iiliiii| a ih^ parnicuoui, and i
_ia. *i« U ika otjMU of Ilia ■choira of n
k boak. k will b« irrittDui
_ . _^ ID wkj ODa who baa aoquir
■ al IhaiiMhedl *ad Isniia of jag
'•chUJnD otMimrK't grtut^" da not rvaii V\ wMIl
■rf.yil/ loJ pn>fii. 1[ hu Klradi) been U^i
Imouttd. brr Uunty banag ^nctid Vi vo %«
r/acwrf JJ3 Che faanda of the TDUtUtil labixAian ot
lanDjvJfkiiijIr.
ari/EiucMtien: TiCfin Chaflrn far ilmmg pairrT— ■ lilLla nodrl Mton fl^iiv— > dlipKnn-
TkitktTt, BjrEdiriaPuIouIJood. LoDilni : tn>ic niKtiiiH— ■ Hne rlmric hucprr, oilb ill
PuOidB? and OlkCT- Iheis mj Inmi wu whoUf unuqaarnlnj : ba
Bid iomiMiiiK clan of r«ders for whom it ii u, iii« found Ibeir "»» Ihm whoilr b/ rtunw
duripMd. Allhougk U tHirm Urn mdtuw of We .Itpped ftrm [ho L.I«r»li>rT inw UiT IKidl or
h...nir !»«. DUI u>«U.eFin h».tt. Mid u MmB- .:. ,p|,„ „ freinlBlll. Ml ' —
il w%t a Imlf ma^iflcn
■ttnolin. We •ubjoin a chaniirtlrliUc BXIrael, ,,„ eipmiire. Drairous ot aounding hi« lioat,
wUcli wo am BUrt Hill t* r«d ■illi mLcnal :— ihe wri^ uimnl ToliHDf tlitt volume - al[ "nil
" Wb ma; taj al[ adiuatiOQ miul l>t arlf-HlDca- imcul, <lDnil. unnil : ai laal, mie ballrr laird Uwi
tjon ; f«diLiji tlK boAf^ or fdcdiDft Ihd mind, ata iba rvK Oinh'd up, ' Ruikre^t HLafmr <if ihe
lioB7Hir4niD>nit. apd aelr-Rliuice. Uuif P"- •Af -»----'-— -' -"-
labDTabiT7 Ibnv
e gf which th< <
and pliilcnaii'''™' inalnuuinii abcunileJi vlien swun had read. Hen nrg Uie uwig, abundain
anjonlr had lo put on the head a aort of For- miin|;h ; but tb« tnolaonnobcfDrenREaiilf aallad
tuiuiiu cap, and, bjr wiihinH fur anTtbitiE. And it fnrlhom.and, thcnfoK, thry w«t ub«1h».
in their poaBeaiiDUiiherwoiildUumiLbeyiniiuinr, "KTOm (hit nanvionoii the breaat of ilia fajH^
h« hi^blj akiucaied penoDB ; B> if JtiwwJedfie every da^ eatofalng ihe brif^ht eheerj aunshibi-,
■on of Duitic. booka could be read, and Uuir oou- detitha of the mJtay, ■ rails or wo away fhtm iha
tenia remenibered and {tentfAliaed : a^ if all (he maDfion^ The awns- here eaqld purehaae Teiy
patient ami enduriufr peracvemice, and inlelll- marlt hi* own tools. Hia eajninicH were under
frence. ^ome lime ainoe, the wriMiT wna waliuqj; one pound a week, and tbe oolUi^ waa iwr
England, by hii power m wielding alike <tit fiunisiieil maoaion : everyUkinf waa ampnloaalr
tOnjcue aod Ihe pen, and Uie aoeompliahmenta of neat, and all abound Ihe little J-aiioar- wen ar-
«"Mli,"wiUi
qoiriiig a Iihwy. or ntber. (he wondering apec- a pride wliicb wa* miiy be4i
lalor Ikad a beiur apportubity than the other^ who name, given and appended
^ranf fnm poverty, md from the lallor'i board, at herb or plant he bad dia
Htanjy u acqafre a library, but Eo pour a light had little book-know led^, li
and luaJra over Iba wboia of England, and a very knowlejffe out of wliieh the
n of AnHTica. are made ; a Icnotrledge whi
e the reauU of
the orfnlat: or Ihe bmiBer the blackainiUi ; or^nample, li'
tta plaue and bainLeaw tiie earpenUr ? * * One meipie we ar
fliH day, ibe vtita wat walking throngfa one of —bourer, waa a aaDer book nan. fMaaant IKUo
Aa lotely nlleyi of tin aorlh of Bngland; he cottage Itii.thfTr, down thetT.qnttetiaiUa tolbe
kad piDmiMd u> call upoo dm* Hrml pamna.Beye, as clean, an neat; and iia amall »osk-aaa^
(llamnnnlo Mm: theflnt waa ayouBt man, Bu well SllFd villi book>,tomll efaoaai. AltB
of aomelwecity-dveyeafa Af age, ofweaJthwhlDhgaloiigBnd weary walk there,ar«i1iiueinoflea
nigh' ha truly aaid to be imiaenae : hia maniion _waa the tewanl ; and what a talk wa^ad wUla
— » i-H> Mil pardena soatly: aod aRer looking'tfaa good wile wmdered to hear bar bnahaod ao
ter. the writar waa taken iuo aone ■learned, u the winy thingiof Bnlkr, and Swift,
fbrmtr. Thm waaaUharvlory.bolBand Shakapaan, and the wiaa thlnga dT Jfihan,
lAe DutpuBaa of Jaheui; anriHyor—aod FoKer, and Brown, and the fblly of old
uw w*w jilaoad all animif— B'Sanehoiand UicButttilH^QeuiitbnnT Sir Wat-
ll^rtnrir.
DT THE AUTUOn OF "tUE AST OF BEASONIVO.
No. IL— THE PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE.
lUx is not' only a thinking bein;;, but also a tlionght-utterer. The anion of ideation
aad «]icecfa completely differentiates bim from all tho other animal species, and constitutes
the d:<ti5;pujhing characteristic of bnman nature. " Without speech, knowled|[CO would
hare little ralae; and without knowledge, speech would bare but little weight.** Thus
Baaon and Langnxige are mutually reactive. " Credunt enim homines rationttn mam
rtrHi imperare : §tdfitetiajn ui verba rim suam super intellnctum retorr/wnnt e.t reflectant.*' *
''Speech is the great instrument by which man becomes beneficial to innn; and it is to thi*
iBtemorse and transmission of thought by means of speech, that we arc chiefly indebted
4at tie improrement of thought itself. Small are the advances which a single unassisted
iodiTiilual can make toward perfecting any of his powers. What wc call himian reason
t! sot the effort or ability of one so much as it is the result of the reasoning of many,
viaiasr from ligbts mutually communicated, in consequence of speech and writing.'* f Without
Lupiage, — Society, Civilization, Government, Science, Philosophy, Art, Literature, Friend-
ibip. Love. Home, acnd Country, with all their advantages, associations, pleasures, and re-
ksicn !inks, would be blotted from the category of human experiences. Animal gregariousness,
iMbdoD, and barbarism, would be the unpleasant destiny of humanity. To Language and
BeMm eombined man is indebted for his progrcssiveness and refinement. By this man
icaarti knowledge to his fellow-man — communicates pleasure — awakens hope — excited to
actioo— elicits aspirationa — transports with joy, and electrifies tho soul in all its manifold
powvrs and eapiibilities. By it man receives a multipled existence, and is enabled to live
ia tbe nciety and enjoy the converse of the illustrious of all ages and countries.
Hdw mightj, alao^ are the powers of speech when wielded by intelligence and moral
hfnisia! We need not listen to the Orphic fables for illustrations of the power of speech,
vbm
" Words are with the love of truth and hue* of grace
Do&osthenes, by the ntterance of " words which were weapons," exciting the anloiur and
{uriotism of the Grecian people, and rousing them to arms against the invading Philip —
Gcero, in the senate and on the forum, swaying all intellects and governing all hearts —
Peter the Hermit, kindling with frenzied enthusiasm the populations of Europe, :ind calling
tkm forth to the Cmsadie wats — Luther, *'the solitary monk who shook the world."
eming the flood-tides of passion to rush across the souls of men until they snapt asundci*
tti firtten of tlM aD-potent church like stubble -withes, and became free from tho souU
**T«r Bcn beUeve tfiat their reason govenifl words; but it also happens that words itVoTlix.CL
nim tfu4r ioree 190D rh^iatelleet "— Baton > yov. O/y., Jph. GO.
♦ "JHi*^* XMtoav «m t^marie aad the BeUe^ Lettres, "p.l,
E
42 RHETORIC. — NO. II.
tyranny which bound them — Fox, Sheridan, Burke, Chatham, Chalmers, Hall, Wilbcrforce,
and Peel — are historic examples known to all. When the gigantic intellect, the flashing
eye, the enthnsiasm-knit frame, the living voice, and the rugged, vigorous, passion-filled
periods are all united, how grand the effect — how great the influence! And even when the
voice is dumb in death, Language secures to man a semi-immortality. " Language is the
instrument by which Socrates brought wisdom down from heaven to earth ; and Kewton
made the heavens themselves, and all the wonders they contain, descend, as it were, to be
grasped and measured by the feeble arm of man. But its noblest benefit is the permanent
transmission of thought, which gives to each individual the power and wisdom of his
species, or rather — fur the united powers and wisdom of hb species as they exist in
myriads at the same moment with himself upon the globe would be comparativelj a
trifling endowment — it gives him the rich inheritance of the accumulated acquisitions of
all the multitudes who, like himself, in every preceding age, have inquired and meditated
and patiently discovered; or, by the happy inspiration of genius, have found truths which
they hardly sought, and penetrated, with the rapidity of a single glance, those depths of
nature which the weak steps and dim torchlight of generations after generations had
vainly laboured to explore. By that happy invention which we owe indirectly to the ear,
the boundaries of time seem to be at once removed. Nothing is past^ for everything lives
as it were before us. The thoughts of beings who had trod the most distant soil, in the
most distant periods, arise again in our mind with the same warmth and freshness as
when they first awoke to life in the bosoms of their authors." — BrounCs Lectures^ xz.
Men s transient thoughts are by it enshrined in the page of Literature, and his soul stiU
operates on the destiny of his race. To Language the historic narrative owes its preci&ioD
and attractive grace. Philosophy its delicate distinctions, Argumentation its point and
subtilty, and Poesy its beauty and refinement. It cannot be unimportant, then, to investi>
gate " the Philosophy of Language.** This includes two primary questions — What is the
««a/ure of Language? and What its origin f To each of these we shall endeavour to present
brief and intelligible replies. Let it be understood, however, that we do not profess, in
this article, more than to compress into small space the essence of the labours of the most
eminent men, by whose diligence such inquiries have been prosecuted.
TuE Nature of Lakguaoe. — Language— a term derived, through the French
" Langm^ from the Latin " Lingua" — in its original acceptation signified the power of
employing iht tongue in the production of speech. It is noiw, however, more generally
applied to the whole means by tchich men itUeniionalhj express (heir ideas and emotions.
These may be thns classified ; —
C Natural I ^ Cries, Gestures, and Modifications of Countenance and Voices
Language } > Speech.
( A «*A ' 1 I Painting, Sculpture, Hieroglyphics, Writing, Mute Signs,
V Ariinciai ^ Telegraphs, Emblems, Writmg, Symbols.
Language being the sign of the thoughts and emotions which pass and repass through
the human mind, it becomes as to understand well the use of the representative media
wMcb mre derated to the expression of our ideas. This cannot be done unless we are
Mcqaalnted with tbeir nature. To understand this, tbcu, "we mual ^sAfityoor to discover
SHBTORIO — HO. 11. 43
tbt peeolar office «nd dotj which it has to perform. Bat as speech is the most oseful aud
vamary sjstem of idea-signs, we shall, for the present, confine oorselires to the con-
Stkfitioa of Word- Language.
Wirdi have been Txmooslj defined; by Aristotle, as "sounds rendered significant bj
eocfsct — hj Prisciaa, as *' the least part of a properlj-constructed sentence, understanding
A pet to be SDch in relation to the meaning of the whole sentence " in which it is em-
pUed — bj the PiMrt-Boyalists, as '* sounds distinct and articulate, which men have taken
»8^ to express what passes in their minds" — by Hobbes, as that " which may raise in
wr auod a thought like to some thought we had before, and which b«ing pronoimced to
«t]»n, may be to them a sign of what thought the speaker had or had not before in his
sod" — and bj Harris, as *' the smallest parts of speech." In all these we obser\'e~this
pat fact presented to the mind — ^that words are idea-symbols, the indications of impres-
unsBide upon a thinking essence; thus —
'* As the Tapoun lie
Bright in the oat«pread radiaucy,
So arc men's thoughts invested with the light
Of Language."
Boi dungh the sense of any single word is the idea which it symbolizes, the serue of
tvoor more words collocated syntactically is not that of the two or more ideas indicated
^ the terms employed, but of the ideas involved in these terms and a relation. " Lan-
fcase is utA a umple collection of isolated words; it is a system of manifold relations of
*0(dB to each other." It is not, therefore, the mere exponent of thought, but is at the eame
tiiM, as Lord Bacon remarks, '* the sensible portraiture or image of the mciitiil pruceAses.**
lbs wit*"**** analysis reduces Language to idea-signs ; but each idea is acted upon by
t^uad in the process of naming; therefore Language implicitly contains the true repre-
Mststion c^ the operations of the mentality and the development of thought. It is scmi-
(jintasl, semi-material — at once a transient agitation of the a'u:, and the inoimatiau of the
iiaaan spirit in its noblest moods. The nature of Language, then, informs us, tluit-^
IsL It is a system of idea-symbols.*
Snd. It is the product and representative of the active intelligcntial faculties.f
3id. It is in a great measure arbitrary, and consequently depends on the will.
4th. Woida are not reasoning, but the instruments of thonght-de\'elopment.
5th. WithoQt power to comprehend Language — t.e., intelligence — signs would be valueleM;
€th. The mind is qualified to make the minutest distinctions, and is capable of incn>asini(
the significancy of terms by connecting together a number of ideas and feelings in the *(atii<
* " Seeing names (j.tf., words) ordered hi ipeedi are signs of our conceptious.it is manliest tiic^ tu**
■DC lagiu ci the things thcnuelves ; for chat the sign of the word stone should be the sign oi a tit. n.>
be ndcntood ia any sense but this, that he that hears it collects that he that pruiiuuuor»
of a stoot."— ifeUcf « ComjnUaHon, or Logic, ohap. %.
4 *F«nas, and scvaral other birds, will be taught to make articulate sounds dbtincl enougU, »iiit:;i
7«c br no auans are eapabk of Langusge. Besides articulate sounds, therefore, it was (ur\lve\ uecwru
•a>7 ^m. aan siiiwilil be ahla t» me ttoae mmn^ at signs (^internal eoru:e]^ion%, and lo mt]kc \hv\\\
I m Badv Ar theUttu wUbia his own mintL "—Locke's Sssay, book iiL chap. 1 .
44 RHETORIC. — SO. 11
7th. The rapiditj and ease with which the mind seizes ttpon the significance of all these
abbrcTiations, and combines them, is evidence of the wondrous speed of thought, and the
inilaence of the suggestive facaUIes of the mind.
8th. The power of distinguishing most accurately between the nicest and most delicate
shades of sensation is possessed by the sense-powers.*
TiiE Origin of Language. — Few questions have been agitated more frequently
among philosophers than ** The Origin of Language," and few have been debated with
more acrimony and warmth. Happily, the age of uncharitable debate is fast fading " into
the sere and yellow leaf,** and the honest advocacy of opnion is being respected. ** Truth
is militant, and can only establish itself by means of conflict. The most opposite opinions
can make a plausible show of evidence while each has the statement of its own c«Ee ; and
it is only possible to ascertain which of them is in the right, after hearing and comparing
what each can say against the other, and what the other can urge in its defence.**! We are
happy that our readers, in a recent and ably-conducted discussion in this serial, have had
the question of the Origin of Language so placed before them as to enable them to form
a judgment for themselves. As, however, it has been heretofore the custom, among writers
on Rhetoric, to treat upon this topic, we shall, even although we may run the risk of
appearing presumptuous in doing so, proceed to give a succinct analysis of the chief
arguments which have been, or may be, employed, in the pro and con of this qutstio
rexata—" Was Language of Human Origin ?" J
* Wc do not mean to say that all these several ohservations have been fonnally proven in the fore-
going remarks ; vre merely mean that they may be legitimately deduced from them. We oouid hare
made thut article less of a rudis indigrstaque moles f had we not hesitated to employ the thoughts and
iUustraliunji which we had formerly placed before our readers — Art of Reasoning, Nos. III. and XII.,
to which we beg to refer, as also to the debate on " The Origin of Language," in Vol. II., in which
many judicious remarks will be found.
+ Mill's "Logic," Pre&ce.
t Fur further information and more extensive inquiry upon the Origin of Language, the Ibllowing
list comprises, so far as we remember, the must useful works, viz. — Human Obioin : " Lucretius' 2>e
Berum Nalura,'* hook v.; Cicero, " De Inventione" ; Aristotle and Plato, pasiim; Lord Burnet of
Monboddu's " Dissertation on the Origin and Process of Language" ; Home Tooke's " DiTersions
of Purlcy"; Harris's *'Herraes"; Kaimes "SkeUhet of the History of Man," book i.; Adam
Smith's " Dissertation on the Formatioa of Language " ; Dr. Blair's " Lectures ou Bhetorio and the
Belles Lettres," vl.— x. ; Dr. Campbell's " Philosophy of Bhetoric " ; Professor Barron's " Lectures
on tlie Belles Lettres," i— vi. ; James Dunbar's " Essays on Man," i. and ii. ; Shuckford's ** Con-
nexion of Saorcd and Profane History," vol. i. ; Priestley's ** Lectxurs on Language and Gnanmar,"
Works, vol. xxiiL; Locke's "Essay," book iii.; Smart's "Rhetoric"; President Des Broesc's
^'Traiie de la Formation Mechanique des Langues" ; Bou»seau's " Discours sur I'Origine, I'lne^lit^
parrailcs Hommes"; Coudillac's "Essai sur I'Origine des Connaissances Humaiues"; Ghibilinc's
"Monde Primitif"; Cousin's "Histoire de la Philosophie an 18me Si^de," lecture zx.—Divinx
OaioiN : Winder's " History of Knowledge," vol. i. ; Beattie's " Theory of Language"; Warborlon's
"Divine Legation of Moses"; Dr. Samuel Johnson's *• Dictionary"^ Webster's "Dictionary";
Archbisliop Magee " On the Atonement," vol. it.; Bishop Williams's " Boylean Lectures," toL L;
Dr. Whitby's "Sermons on the Attributes," vol. ii.; Dr. Ellis "On the Knowledge of Divine
Tb/ngrt"; MacgUYB "Lectures on Rhetoric and Criticism"; Ripley's " Sacred Rhetoric**; Donald.
son's *'Xcw Cratjrlns," book L chap. 3; Che\'enix Trench "On Che Study of Words," Sect, i.;
SoaalJ'M '' Uecherebes PhUoaopblques,'*
BHSTORIC. — ^NO. H.
45
PBO.
Mia 'smj exist withoat the power of speech.
Msc bare a OAtond laogiuge of signa and
pstares.
Maa is an imiiatire and inTentiTe bein p:.
h«&ae histocj nnifonnlj represents man as
eikting in the sava^ state.
Wods eppeer to he arbitrary signs.
The fjTnwdization of ideas is dii^erently con-
dnetfld in different countries.
Aftiealate toiuida arising from irregular vi-
bntiens, Tarionsly interchanged and fre-
qoentlj intermpted, are easily prodncible,
sad the associative powers of the intellect
cookd easily co-link soands and ideas.
CON. ,
Language is not an accidental property of man.
The savage state is not the natural condition
of man.
Laniijuftge is necessary to human existence.
UiHtory presents no example of a whole nation
destitute of the power of speoch.
Tlie want of Language would have mode
man an incongruity on the earth, as every
other animal has had the proper powers
necessary to its existence bestowed upon it.
The relatien of words to each other — Uni-
versal Granunar — is the some in all lan-
guages, and is unprogressive.
To invent speech is a physical imposnbility,
OS it necessarily presupposes the pliability
of the speech-organs to remain till the age
at which reason begins to operate.
" The Development Theory" is opposed to the
" Logic of Facts.''
Man is gregarious, and a societarian compact^
and even a compact regarding the signi-
ficancy of words, presupposes the possession
of Language.
Man in tlie early ages of the world is dis-
played in profane history as being in so
nide II state, as to be destitute of the
power of inventing agricultural and other
implements; it is not, therefore, likely that
he could have invented the intricate and
complex machinery of speech.
The power of expressing emotions of pain and
pleasure exists in man, whether he has
had occa^don to exercise it or not.
All new words are compounded of, or related
to, other words, either belonging to the
same or another Language.
lilin is a progressive being, and all the
denenti of his progress result from the
ezsrose of his natnnl powers.
GR^arioosieis does not necessarily presup-
pow language, for other animals congregate
together who have not verbal language.
Laz^roa!^ being a collection of tigns^ although
iBtn peseessed these signs by divine in-
^intion, yet he would be unable to con-
join the tldng signified without Beason and
bffDtion, aod incapable of remembering
tU ligD, seeing that the idea with which
it vas intended to be connected had not
yet impFeseed the mind.
Sm words and new oompoonds, as well as
new applications of words, are at present
of quite coounon invoition.
HaTiB^ thns ]daced before our readers the chief considerations, except such as are
lloctly EUmograpkie — e.g^ the unity of the human race, the oneness of the original
LsDgnage, &c. — ^we will now proceed to show how the truth seems to lie between the two
ntituw, and by an echctic process endeavour to show the point of junction to which we
nsy Wing both opinioos, and thence arrive at the most probable solution of the question
The mind of man is so framed that it must obey certain necessary laws which are by
the ttrj constitution of his nature impressed upon it When therefore objects, whether
Bouatiooany or reflectively, make themselves distinguishable by the consciousness, they
neeesaarfly be cUusified according to these mental laws. The mind, however, is not
pasBhilitj, but a self-energizing activity each law, therefore, operates in producinf^
remit iipoo a ghea excJtsnt being MppUed to it The will has Che '^wqt c&
the mt^oa of the bodjtoobefUsbebeBtiL Let it be granted, lliCTi, \iiaX 1\m*
46 tsBBTomc — »o, n.
excitant is giveoi k must be equally evident that the articalatire oi^ans wonld as neces-
earily operate to express thoDght as the other portions of the body on the appeaiance of
danger exert themselves in self-preservation. It is no valid argument against this theory,
that Langosge is a complex and intricate system of idea-signs, apparently implying great
intellectiul acnteneis and dtsorimination. It is perhaps one of the meet extraordinar]
facts in our nature, that the most difficult things are pnotically perfectly fiuniliar to m
long^prcTlous to our scientific knowledge of them. Think of the " Philosophy of sight,'
how accurate and precise is the adherency of the visual organs to the laws of Optics I—
and yet bow ignorut are we of thoee very laws upon which the mind in exercising sigh
judges and acts! Is it anytiiing more strange that the speech-organs should act in obe
dience to the laws of their nature, than that the sight-organs should do so? Such thing
become so habitual in their performance, that we act upon them without reflecting upoi
the ressons why we do so, and consequently we become insensible to thfiir operstiona unti
by a more subtle and accurate snalysis we are enabled to trace the processes by which ou
minds perform tlieir functions.
That we possess powers and capacities for speech cannot be doubted; that we wei
intended to employ these powers admits of as little question; and if we believe, as w
think must be done, that the laws by which these powers operate, are fixed and definit>
then we cannot but conclude tliat upon the proper stimuli being applied they must hai
spontaneously developed themselves. The world, with all its magnificences, beautic
eublimitaes, and conveniences, ky around Man, soliciting him to become acquainted wh
their secrets; his co-mates in existence invited him to companionship; could he fail, nnd
such propitious circnnistances, to fill the air with music, and laden it with the swe*
burden of his thoughts? As naturally as the eye distinguishes distance, or the eje-l\«
dose to avoid a too great glare of light — as naturally as the ocean-waves rock to and f
by the agitation of the -wind — as naturally as the sun mirrors itself in the streamlet-
mineral and saline bodies, in certain circumstances, assume the crystalline form — so nat
rally do the vocal oiigana, in obedience to the laws impressed upon them, produce tlic
thought-signs called sounds. This latent power, the sufficient excitancy being snppllt
necessarily manifested itself. In the sense, therefore, of adaptation and adjustment —
pre-arranged and pre-established creation-interwoven law, " Language is of divine origii
A God-furnished and aU-adequate lexicon, at least, there is good reason ibr belieTing
was not; but rather that as man*s idea-receptive power increased, so did his stock of vi
baltsms, and that in this sense " Language is of human origin."
This seems to be the view taken of this subject in the following exquisite sonnet
Hartley Coleridge, with which we beg leave to conclude this dry, rambUog, and discurs
article: —
" What was 't awakened first the UQtried ear
Of that one man who was aR human kind 7
Was it the f ladsome weioowe of die wind
Stkrfaig tho leaves that never yet were aarer
* The tout mellifliioiis stnana that flowed so near,
Their lulling murmurs all in one combined ?
The note of bird nnnamed ? The startled hind
BemliDg the brake In wonder, not in Ihtf
IS HOMCROPATIIT TRUE IN PRIKCIPLE AND BENEFICIAL IX PRACTICE? 47
Of b«r iMv lord 7 Or did d»e holjr ground
Send fyrth myateriout melodies to greet
The graciooe preMure of inunocalate Teet 7
Did viewless Bcraphs nistle all aronm),
Making sweet music out of air an sweet ?
Or his own voice awake him with the sound 7"
:^iiilmo{i^i(.
IS HOMa:OPATUY TRUE IN PRINCIPLE AND DENEFICIAL IN PRACTICE ?
AFFIUMATIVE ARTICLE.-II.
Wl lure on more than one occaaion, in
tlie pares of thb mapuine, expreened our
istppTLT:!! of the system, Htill prevalent, of
nodnnQiog oe«r theories merely becnttse they
or nrtr, and wit boat anj regard to their
mi ebims to merit. We consider snch a
coane noworthj of any one pretending to be
IB eaneitt inqtiirer after tmth.
Od the occjuiijnfl to whicli wc refer, we
btve fpnermll J made more particular allusion
to diKOTeries in mechanical science — as the
flamboat, locomotiTe engine, and electric
tdcgriph---ail of which bronght their in-
vcBtun into ridicule, and were, so long as
fiAeUcf and prejudice could hold out, de-
ligutfd ** absurd impossibilities." liut roe>
ebciral inrentom hare not been the onlj
Rd^jH^sts of such abuse. Harvey, who,
ifter Uborioos inrestigation, propounded his
Acorr of the circuiatimi of the blood; and
Jbxer, who, after equal painstaking, dis-
csrrred vaccination to be a preventive of
tltat direful scourge, the small-pox, were
e^Ij flcouteil as **rA enthusiasts," and
br members of their own profession too!
fiow true it is that great men are ever in
idnoce of their age! The medical profes-
■B, bv reason, we suppose, of some strange
abtnation, notwithstanding their known
ialidligcnce, seem to be remarkably incredu-
loos. Look at their treatment to the Pkre-
»4n^'«f«. and their dogmatic opposition to
the yftsmerUU^ neither of whose sciences
aa thev dbprove! Ought thej not rather,
Vj virtue of their profession, to be the first
ifttrul themselves of all new curative agents ^
^ite proved to be inch beyond the shadow
of a doubty and gire tbepabih the benefit?
Imtead of wbieb, tbtjaUow, bf their neglect
and prejudice, the»e advantiiges to be seized
upon by inexperienced and uneducated per-
sons, who impose upon the public, abuse the
science they advocate, and finally discourage
scientific discovery! After what we have
said of the past, we are not burprised, although
we may regret, to find that the profession
(taken as a body) arc equally deadly and de-
termined in their opposition to Homoeopathy
as they have been to the sciences before enu-
merated. But 1ft U8 proceed to look a little
into the merits of the question for ourselves.
Homccopathy, as your medical correspon-
dent btatod in the hibt number (and we wel-
come him to our ranks), is comparatively a
new science. Its primary claims seem to lie
in its advocacy of the adoption of simplicity
in the place of complexity; moderation in
the stood of useless [irofusion ; and compara-
tive certainty in the place of almost pro-
verbial uncertainty.
By simplicity we mean that the Hommo-
pathic theory embraces some settled line
of action — its principle of cure {timilia
similUnu) applies to all bodily disorders — for
that being to administer to the suffering
person what would be most likely to pro-
duce similar symptoms in a healthy per-
son, the energies of tbo practitioner become
concentrated in one object, although the
means by which he may accomplish it are
not, as some would have us believe, restricted,
because he is perfectly at liberty to select
from all known means that most likely to
suit his purpose, and directly he succeeds he
will have visible proof^f his success by the
r^ief afforded to the patient, \jiidet iYa
old Bfbtcm of medicine no timH tmmedvrte
certainty o( test exists.
48 IS nOMOCOPATHT TRUE IN rRlNCIPI.E AXD BENEFiaAL W PBACTIGE ?
By moderation in the stead of profasioiif |
we mean that the Homoeopathic practitioner
applies only jost so much of his remedy as
is abeolntely necessary to crente the Uat — ^he
being always careful that in the event of his
judging wrongfully and administering a non-
corative agent, it shall not be in sufficient
quantity to do further injury to the patient ;
and knowmg, on the other hand, that when
he has once discoTered the proper agent, he
can administer it in any quantity desired.
How different is this from the slmcing system
now in fashion !
We are aware that after the long pre-
valence of the old system of drugs and
drafts, pills and doses, " to be taken ever>'
four hoors** — all of which have to be paid for
in the same extravagant style as they are sup-
plied— it is only natural that some time should
pass before the heads and the pockets of the
profe88i(Hi would become reconciled to such a
radical change as that which must follow the
general adoption of the Homrcopathic system.
The English public, however, are not nig-
gardly, and would, we think, be more dis-
posed to pay well for speedy and pleasant
cures, tlum for long tedious and unpleasant
ones.
We are far from seriously believing that
iho ]vofcs8ion are actuated alone by selfijth
motives. The public would be too discerning
to tolerate a combination on such grounds.
The plan heretofore pursued has been rather
to cast ridicule and discredit upon the sys-
tem. They cannot, dare not^ say that no
cures have been effected under its treatment —
but do ascribe the cnres to change of diet,
change of air, &c.; while, as it has been
amusingly remarked, some of the patients
could not etUf and others never left their
room while under Homoeopathic treatment!
Bat to think of cures being effected by
medicine administered in anv other mode
than that which has descended from Hip-
pocrates and Galen ! Oh, foul and miserable
slander! Yes, it is the minuteness of the
doses administered that has fanned the
stronghold for Homoeopathic opposition, as if
healing medicines were to be adniioistcred in
pailfuU or not at all! But is the Honuco-
pathic practitioner bound down to adminis-
ter *'so much and ao more?*" We think
Dot The principle is to test with the small-
egtpoga'bJe qoMntitjr, Mod then to administer
r tAc particular case may nqmn. We have
no direct authority before ns on this point,
but we have one on which we place consider-
able reliance, because it comes from an
impartial source. The *^ National Cydo-
papdia" (Art. Honweopathy) says hereon.* —
*' The extremely minute quantities of which
the remedies are administered seem to form
a marked difference between the Homoeopathic
and all other schools of medicine. The Ho-
maropaikistSf hoicever^ assert that this is
merely a point of practice to he detertnimed
by the physician at the bed-side of his patient^
and that, in the application of the Homoeo-
pathic principle to the treatment of disease,
it was soon found that remedial agents given
in the doses usually employed, acted too
energetically upon a frame already predis-
posed to their influence, by the affinity exist-
ing between their medicinal effects and the
morbid signs of the disease; and hence &
gradual diminution was made in the quantity
of the medichie exhibited, in order to ap-
proximate to that amount which might exert
its full curative power, without aggravating
tlie sufferings of the patient by an excess of
medicinal action. The result has been the
general adoption among Homoeopathists of
the minute dose at present in use, which
perhaps more than any other canse, from its
discrepancy with generally received opinions,
has prevented any impartial investigatioa
into the principles of the new system by the
profession at large." It may be so. Bat
where is tlie reanonableness of snch a course?
Why not reject the indication of the mari-
ner's compass because of the minnteneas <^
the indicator — the needle ? Or whv not
denounce as absurd and impossible the work-
ing of the electric telegraph, because of the
minute and invitiifile nature of the agent
employed in effecting its operations? Surely
one would be as reasonable as the other I
Do our opponents forget that even the
slightest touch, or stiU rooro remarkable,
even a breatli of air, is snfficient to convey
and spread the direst contagion? Why, then,
should not an equally minute application
supply a remedy? It may be that the exact
" why and wherefore" is not yet fully un-
derstood; but is this any reason fbr an
unqualified disbelief or denial? Wo believe
it is not yet understood what it is that
afibrds to the hound tlie extraordinary power
of tradug the footsteps of his master for
miles and ^uudte^ ol tai\«^ «A.d even fbr
E= Dinlical KcifDM itielf, in the cvrj-
<Ii' ;nflk.v of tlut principle fur the pro-
jixdJif; of Hbith nt buTc Biud Jcnnu
nSiBl »ha»t and peiMtutJon — we mtui
Mcnv.iian — affiinli a far more powufiil
nat'Tilt'<a (rf' tliB truth and ellicacj of ttie
luemupatfaic mode of tmtmeat than auf
^ijt Ire ciKild fornuli. Tbe mvrf t paiticle
if aaUrr conTRJcd in tlie acfdle pouit i*
n&iait to affrct the wbolf EjiltDi, uid
i^iinu; iLt desired mult. " A little Ivavcn
lunniclli the kIiuIs lump." We iliall not
hunt over tlu' whula cj-dujailift of imiliiitM
to nke lip euu to labmit to our opponent*,
who ar>' in fiwt th«n*rlTtii b«tl<t acquainted
nith them, but ne wnuld uak, In it not
a ircU-Lnuvn (tet tliat neivHry, vliieb
prodacet n ei-rtain kind of dyMRileij. wiU
Rinoiraa*iiniUi kinil)' Tbal IVnivian boric
Till cure a kind of intemiitti'iit teyn, bj
virtue uf iti trudenoy lu pnnbui' a biiiiilar
kinil? Abw that ancnic, and iiiao; other
medicinal H^tata, effvct like results ?
Let i>Dcb fact« U' im'11 coii9idi:red. Tlia
true reflect before tlicj tondeniu.
C. W., Jun.
faan me, gentle nsder, to uiform f ov
tUl I vM nmch pleaied wilb the announre-
QQl of the intendeil discuuim of the meriti
i:'U«iK»pKthj in this jounal, and liiat on
HKTisf ttw Janiiu; number, 1 lunied nitb
■oit inditj to the aiGmutire aiticls, in lb(
li'ff of there finding a caie ■itiBfactorilj
^t mt ia Garonrof the taAteleBt.infinitebi-
cji |;kiboiea. Tbouf b gifled with a prett}
riiit cccutitntiou, I have, in my lime, beei
irati to svallo* man; a naoKoos doao o\
• riidaib, wiuva, and other pai;»tiva drngi.'
lar \tgt moitioi] of IFbit-lL bring up to th(
Kal ujthinK but pleaunt ■swdationa
C'>Ec=^ tbeivfoce. to tbe iliKutsiun of IbL
^UBldCi with k Inaa in farour of tlie ijiteiD
J wu -bid to recopnift, in the writer of thi
aSncaiive article, a Doctor of Medjdne, o
ci nan itanding m tbe HonHeopatLic irorld
J^e, hoveTer, of tnj diuppoiotmcnt, ir
I icr tbroi^h hii article, to bnd that it let
lix lUtfT pteclMlr where it prerioualj- ilood
Bit if diiappoinled at the argnmenli then
'jMdfht rarwaid in taTOur of UomiEDpathy, !
wa But a Ultle aitdniibed at ita cliiims ai
ti^r {ot fi>nh. I waa aware that it [lufewei
tv cue Jiieaan on an impioied principle, am
I had bein aecuitaawd to tbink that its col
IkbiI adranti^ woold he to render medi
use {^caamt, inaking the bitter aweet, am
ihu ben I lint tbe aorraw of infancy and a^e
(3d further, that it wonld to reduce thri
balk aa to imder a mnff-bos capaciou
raat^ far a nwdidn* chest, and Ibn
aan the pvoe apothreaij th* Ihpb^ of da-
jJayias
u.hlndltrt, I
lliii nmd) I expected ; but in mr rimplieilf
I nerer even drewnt nf brin|r tuU Ibat Uii*
uid HomoupathT wu capable of '' tffaethiff
]ie vhimate rui-t ami immcipatioH i^inm.
bmrl front lnnhlg ilU. and connequentli' front
menial diiionlera whicli ariw out of tbcm as
■ympatbelic retulti.'' That the present ii
an njru of progreti w<i have been ainirrd by
■•a Ihonwiidandono'* inifes; hatbow ahall
we deeijiTiate thai aj^ in ubieh Homrcopatfay
i« to be nniversally practibed? ll wonld
seem, if tUefe tkinco be fo, that Ihrro if,
indeed, "a %wi. tiin> Miniini;" In enlferinj^
humanity: bnt, ala»! if it ilill (n rome, I
happen to number, amooR my friendi, many
warm adherent! to the i-yatem wbldi I feel
bound to oppoM-. bnt I con discover in them
no aymptiimn of an appniaeli to an KJenie
stale of " emancipation ' fiuni the [loins siul
penal lies of nature.
TliBt " Itonurepalis rill in bo cum do
potilire injury'' i* not ravinp a arcat deal
ia its favour; and yet it' is this pirn that
cotniiwiids it to the attention of puuiy. That
in many esMa its do-nolhine jrlohuies are
hannlnM, I believe; and this is admitted by
many Allopathic [Aysidanii. Dr. CnM
«ay»,* " The inilancca in which it can bo
practined with impunity, are time imaginary
• "ITie I'by.ulugf at Ilumui Saloit.''
50
IB HOMCEOPATHT TRUE IN PRINCIPUS AND BBSTEFICIAL TS PRACTICB ?
maladies wherein it cannot do harm, either
through its own feeble efforts, or by taking
the place of more efficient means. In snch
cases it maj, indeed, be designated the art
of amusing the patient, while nature cures
the complaint, if complaint there be beyond
the mere fancy of complaining. Whenever
active and urgent disease, however, is to be
dealt with, any dependence upon such falla-
cious means is not only unavailing, but mis-
chievous ; inasmuch, as being powerless
itself to contend with any serious malady,
it yet usurps the place of any really efficient
m^icinal treatment."
That the principle of " Similia simiUhus
curarUur" is not a suiHcient basis for any
system, has, I think, been satisfactorily
shown by " Viucliun." If Homoeopathists
object, let them at once submit their sys-
tem to the test suggested some time a<;o by
a respectable journalist : — " We offer a
method of satisfying us, which we doubt not
will be at once as successful with the public
as ourselves. Let the UomoDopathists select
fifty healthful men, and in the use of fifty
given medicines, let them produce in each of
these fifty the separate malady of which that
medicine is the professed cure ; let this be
done, and we shall at once beliere that snch
medicines can cure the fifty individuals upon
whom the said maladies have come from
natural causes. Let this course be followed,
and it will command our entire confidence,
and we think that of mankind generally, in
the soundness of the principle that ' like is
cored by like.' " Now what say Dr. V. and
his friends to this ? Is not the course recom-
mended a fair one? and if fair, ought it not
to be carried out? Now, no shufliing, gen-
tlemen ; bring your system to the test, or we
shall be compelled to believe the reports of
the failure of your experiments, when con-
ducted by impartial men, and shall say, You
do notf becauteifou dare noL
But then we are p(Hnted to *' the prods
of the efficacy of Homoeopathy ^ which axe
■aid everywhere to abound. Indeed I then
you ascribe many wonderful cures to tile ap-
plication of your system ; but are you quite
sore that they result from it? You have
not forgotten the important law in philo-
sophy, not to assume a new cause when
Jh/ofru ones wi)l explain a fact. May not
iAe curps that you attribute to Homoeopathy
^«wa// Jnere/y from the cOartB of nature to
recover her lost ground? If this is neter
the case with other means, or how do yon
account for the wonders tioid to be wrought
by Morison's pills, Holloway*s ointment, and
much more, by the olive oil and " laying on
of hands " of the Mormonites ? If, then, this
is the case with other methods^ may it not
be sometimes the case with yours? especi-
ally as one of its principal characteristics is
— to use your own words — that *' it gives the
system more time to rest and recover ittelf
undishtrbedli/" And if, then, it be confess-
edly thus sometimes^ may it not be thus
frequently f
Another plea urged for Homoeopathy,
suggests a rationale of many of its "cures.'*
It is said to lead the physician " to insist
upon his patients attending more particu-
larly to the rule of diet." Ah I how many
disorders arise from neglect here. The way
to many a man's head is, in more senses than
one, through his stomach. Yea, farther,
from disarrangement in the said organ go
forth many prejudicial infiuenccs to every
part of the system. Let the cause be re-
moved, and then the effects will either cease
or be weakened. Hence the importance of
dietary regulations, and the beneficial effecti
of their due observance, which Homosop-
athists know how to appreciate. I may
adduce here a case in point. Dr. Jenniogt
was a physician of transatlantic celebrity,
and being convinced of the importance ol
attending to regimen, dispensed with all
medicine throughout a very extended prac-
tice, but nevertheless amused his patients
with bread pills and bottles of good spring
water coloured. He was successful to ao
amazing extent, and outstripped all his
competitors. " Fever in all its forms, and
whatever else came in his way, he met and
battled with a bread pill and coloured water,
and the region rang with the praises of Dr.
Jennings! " I hope my Homoeopathic friends
will forgive me if I place their potent glo-
bules and bread pills on a par. A stnMig
argument in favour of the belief that tlM
Homoeopathic "cures" depend more npoo
regimen than anything else, may be drawn
from some of those statistics to which Dr.
y. refers to with such satisfaction.
It is curious to notice the proportion be-
tween the " in " and *' out " patients reported
as cured In the Hahnemann Hospital, Londca
Upon the m-'^l\«Tv\& ^ i(tn.t^ ^<^Ury is oi
rs novcEOPATftT true nr pbincipi^b and bdcbficial ik practice ? 51
ofHTSft rnf freed, wbile to the out-patients it
cu tn]j be recommended. That it is not
geanUr !idopced I hare bad many oppcff-
tnsvf of aacertaiaing. How this affects
dn frr:pi>rti<in of cvree we shall see. The
fwics; ij^ an extract from the fuit report of
t^ ibbve-mentioned institution, which was
prnented to a meeting of eubscribers held
Apnl3rd, 1851:—
During the fire months it has been in
opnuoQ the patienta bare amounted to
L569 persons, vii. : —
Oot-iotienu (Mnce 16tb Oct.) 1,485
I]|-ptt*ints (since 1st Nov.), chiefly only
vitb twentj beds ready 84
1,569
Of vIkid —
Oiit. In.
flm been di«cbax^ed, Cured ... 347 ... 40
Improved 206... 18
M
Total 553 58
UoikcKd 33
ruder treatment 529
BoDlt unknown 252
DW 17
7
14
few sentences further on admits that " Ho-
mceopathic practitioners reject no reastmable
method of treatment — no method by which
they incur tio ruk of wi/oifsefn mUchitf;
they use all these medical auxiliaries," vis.:
" Hydropathy, Mesmerism, Galvanism, ^.•»
Do they not in acute cases frequently apply
to Allopathy? It is reported that they do;
antl a writer in TaiCs MagaziM for Decem-
ber asserts that he knows an eminent Ho-
moeopathic physician who always has fait
children treated AUopathically.
These are diilicnlties that must be re-
moved, and apparent incomdstencies that
must be cleared away, before I can be at one
with my Homeopathic friends.
Perhaps 1 cannot better conclude this
paper than with the following pungent ex-
tract from the London Medical Exatniner:-^
Faith and proper diet will remove many
disorders. We knew a blacksmith who
sometimes cured nguo by making his patientf
swallow a piece of paper npon which he
wrote some *' dog's latin " a few hours befofB
the expected paroxysm. But our Horhso-
pathic friends would probably attribute the
cure to the gallate of iron in the ink. Ho-
henloe miracles, Alorison's pills. Animal
Magnetism, and Hydropathy, are on the
decline, and infinitesimals arc in the ascen*
dency; like other quackeries it will hare its
The number, then, of in-patients (or per-
m vpon whom a strict dietary has been
n^nrtd) reported to have been " cured," is «l*y, and then give place to some fresh delu-
Borir (me-half of the whole, and those re- sion. Dr. S. Johnson used to say, ^ that if
fKttd as ** improred*' nearly onC'/ourth ; * man were to get upon a tree and preach
*Ue the number of out-patients (or persons ^th his head downwards, he would have a
ti vbom a strict dietary has only been re- lailge congregation.** And as with theology
wmmmdi J) reported to bare been " cured," '' bo with physic, the more absurd the doctrine
ii wrf oitf -/bvrf A, and those **' improved" not the more numerous are its disciples. But
sasmeartw These are significant facts, and ; how useful this science of Homoeopathy
9Bik ▼olames. j would be if fully carried out: let a man try
The large number of cases reported as the ten-millionth part of a mutton chop for
«iy inpr9ved, and significant of the slow his dinner, or the billionth part of a bottle of
wine, and then consult his feelings. Dr.
James Johnson, we think, jpggested when
Homoeopathy was first on the U^nt^ ^ that if
of HoRKBopathic patients, is fisTour-
■Ut to the bjpotbesis that their cures are
the nrah of natoiv's nudded and gradual
Bat if, after all, it can be shown that
hamijkie cores hare been effected by medical
fnetitioaen of this school, the question may
m M, Hare they been effected on Homoeo-
pttie prinnples ? For while Dr. V., in
VBi |Mt rf Int 4ioft paper, declares his pet
to be " lAe oa^ reo/ method of 4fftc-
to iM^A the
a bushel of E])som salts were put into the
Thames at Richmond, all the inhabitants of
Ixmdon might be physicked." We should
like to see the effect of the infusion of a
grain of common sense into 500 members of
the House of Commons; we might then get
eifk:ient medical reform, and our legislators
might Mgne to the axiom, ** Thai i\ext \o %
numa spiritual welfwrCf his hodiYy Yi^^^t
«r.0«wBna^«>#«^,-'Atf J / (3/ the most importance." L.O.Qt. •
dS
CAN THB APOSTOUG ORXOUT AXD FATXOIVAL INDSPKKDXirCE
JSistnq.
CAN THE APOSTOLIC ORIGIN AND NATIONAL INDEPENDENCE OF TH
BRITISH CHURCH BE PROVED?
NEGATIVE ABTICLE.— 11.
Mb. Editor,— The introdactioii of dis*
cnssioDs of historical qnestioDs in the pages
of the British Controuenialui is, in my
opinion, a very important feature; and I
doabt not that it will prore a aoorce of mnch
interest and instniction to all, and espcciall j
to the jonng.
That it was the pritil<^ lot of Great
Britain to leoeive Cfaiistianitj, and some of
her attendant blesnngs, at a very early
period, we are all agreed, bnt as to who was
the first pablisher of the " ^lad tidings" is a
natter of dispute. J. B., in the affirmative
article, maintains that it was one oS the
apostles; and, further, that St. Paul was the
individual. We purpose, then, briefly to
examine the testimonies which he brings for-
ward in evidence, and to show how far they
fall short in substantiating his position. The
assertion that " the fathers inform us, tn
geMTol temuy that it was the apostles per-
fionallj " who founded the church in Britain,
if admitted, woidd not prove that Britain
yna ever favoured with their presence. In
popular language, leaders and employers are
paid to aooomplish objects, when those
objects are secured mainly by their ad-
herents or servants. On this principle, a
few months ago, the air was rent with the
«ry, that the Pope had introduced a Romish
hierarchy into England, although no one un-
derstood by that that we had been honoured
by ^penomd visit irom ^ his Holiness!"
Far be it from as to attempt to under-
value, in histoid xesearches, the testimony
of oontempora^ writers, whether friends or
foes, but we cannot place much relianoe
upon the record of evtnta made some cen-
turies after the events themselves had
transpired, and a knowledge of which could
only have been preaervod by tnuUtion^and
nark, that kind of tradition which all true
ProtMtaats believe to be eminently untrust-
worthy. And is not this the kind of testi-
nofty upon which J. B. builds his theory?
Jerome flonrished ia Pakatine in theybvrtA
century; Eusebins was bishop of Ca^sarc
in thfi fourUi century; Theodoret was bisho
of Cyprus in the fifth century; and Vena«
tius bishop of Poictiers in the gixfh cei
tury. These, then, are J. B.'s witncsse
living thus far distant from the event coi
ceming which they are supposed to testif
and far distant from the place where thi
event was supposed to hate taken place. Be
what, after all, do these witnesses assert
Nothing very definite. Theodoret, we ai
told, asserts, that "the apostles persuade
even the Britons to receive the laws of tl
crucified Lord;" and Jerome sajrs, thi
"Paul preached the gospel in the leester
parts" Well, with the consideration i
these statements, conflicting ones should I
taken, as well as popular belief. " The fin
publication of the gospel in Britain ha^ bc<
attributed to James, the son of Zebcde
whom Herod put to death (Acts xii. 2); i
Simon Zelotes, another apostle; to Aristobi
Ins (mentioned Rom. zvi. 10); to St. Pete
&c., by some few legendary writers, who ai
cited by Ussher, EccL Britann. IViffwr^
cap, 1. But, rejecting these 'account
William of Mahnesbury, and after him max
other monks, maintained tliat Joseph i
Arimathea, idth twelve others, were se]
from Gaul by St. Philip into Britain, a.1
63; that they were successful in plontiti
Christianity; spent their lives in England
had twelve hides of land assigned to thei
by the king at Ghistonbory, wl^re they fin
built a church of hurdles, and afterward
established a nanastety. By maintainiil
the truth of this story the English clerti
obtained the precedence of some others 1
several councils of the fifteenth century, an
partionlarly that of Basil, A.D. \4Mr* i
mnch, then, for the testimony of traditid
to the apoetoHo christianijsation of Britain]
J. B. quotes the intention of tbe apostj
• ** Moeheim'k Eeclesiantio^ Ristoryr Seoot
Centiny, oh^. i. note 4. T
or THC BBlTISn CHUBOB BB PBOyXD ?
53
f
Piul " to joamej into Spain,'* recorded
lli-j;. XV., to give plAUSxbilltj to his opin-
itiLi. i*»ut is onr friend Dot awnre that
it bu been a dispated point with bible stn-
dm:L A4 to whether the coantrj there re-
fsfcil t » is the ssune as the one known to
u bj :lMt name? WiUioat entering npon
th^ dispute, it should ever be remembered
tiat there exists no evidence to prove that
iLi* apf^tle was ever able to carrj ont his
iLbcoti'.in! Further remarks licre would
tberefcre be anneceasarj.
But, Mr. Editor, had every position taken
br J. iL proved onassailable, I iiiulntain that
he vodtl hmvo tailed in making out a case
BfBci«^tl]r strong for his purpose — he might
have »lo«n that the Apostolic Origin of the
British Church was jprobable, but he
would Di)C, as required by tlie question, have
^^nrtd* it actuaL
Here I might lay down my pen, but wish-
ia;; *M u[ibuild as well as destroy, I would
ia;;:gcst, for the consideration of J. B. and
Tear naders generally, the following, as a
■ore probnbh account of the introdncti(Hi of
the goipet to Britain, than the one on which
I have been animadverting. There is an
aadent Britiah history, called the Triadet,
of the Isle of Britain, and written in the
Vdah language. Thoe British records are
rf uaioabtcd credit, and state, that the
bants British kiog^ Coractacus, and his
Dtthif, Brim, after a war of nine years in
defienee of their country, were defeated; and
ia titt year ▲.!>. 5S or 53, were carried cap-
tife to Romcy where they were detained seven
jmn. At that time the gospel was preached
ii the imperial city, and Brdn, with others
if kis family, were made converts to the
of Christ. AiVer se^-en years, they
permitted to return to their native
lad, and were instmmental in the early
pcaehiDg of the ptogpei among their country-
noL On this account Bran was long dis-
tiBgoisbed as one of tke tkrte bkittdmiTt-
mfSf, and his fiunily as one of the kofy
fciisyfs of Britain, Christians from Rome
idaally aooompanied the royal liberated
fsptitea. They are supposed to have been
lA iraachers. Iliey were the means of
teBBig great namben of the Britons from
f^'"" to Chrittianity. Their names are
preserved. One was called Iud, it is sup-
posed an Israelite; and the other two were
Cysday and Aiiwystu Ilkn, probably
Gentiles.
One cannot help asking, What is the object
of J. B. in introducing these views? Seeing
that he lays his foundation with such care,
surely he must have an important super-
stmctoro to rear. What, then, is that super-
structure to contain? Are we not right in
surmising that one of its " holy things'* will
prove to be the doctrine of the apostolic
succession of the clergymen of the Estab-
lished Church of England, and the con-
sequent scripturality and authority of that
church? If so, wo would remind him and
his friend, in the words of an Edinburgh
HeneiceTf that ** It is impolitic to rest the
doctrines of the English Church on an his-
torical theory, which, to ninety-nine Protest-
ants out of a hundred, would seem to bo
more questionable than those doctrines. Nor
is this all. Extreme obscurity overhangs
the history of the middle ages; and the facts
discernible through' that obscurity prove that
the church was exceeding ill regulated. We
read of sees of the highetit dignity openly
sold — transferred backwards and forwards
by popular tumult; bestowed sometimes by
a profligate woman upon her paramour;
sometimes by a warlike baron on a kinsman,
still a stripling. * * In onr own island it
was the complaint of Alfired that not a single
priest, south of the Thames, and very few
on the north, could read either Latin or
English. And this illiterate clergy exercised
their ministry amidst a rude and half heathen
population, in which Danish pirates, unchris-
tened, or christened by hundreds, on a field
of battle, were mingled with a Saxon peasan-
try, scarcely better instructed in religion.
The state of la-land was still worse: * Tota
ilia per unicertam Jlibemian diuolutio eccU-
si<utica ditcipliiuB — ilia tibique pro consvefK-
cUne Chritdana tava sub vUroducia be^
barieSf are the expressions of St Bernard.
We are therefore at a loss to conceive how
any clergyman can feci confident that his
orders have come down correctly."
Waiting the farther development of J.B.'s
theory, I remain, Mr. Editor, yours ^gdthfully,
SCBUTATOB. '
54
CAlf THE APOSTOUC OBIQIN AND NATIONAL INDEPENDENCE
AFFIRMATIVE ABTICLE.-II.
The "National Independence" of the
British Chnrch now claims oar attention.
We have already seen that the cliorch in
our fJEivoared island was fonnded bj St. Paul,
and now our object is to show that this was
the commencement and nucleus of that
church, which, although it has experienced
many vicissitudes, continues tu tlie present
day. That the foundation thus laid did not
decay, but that a glorious superstructure
was raised upon it, we have the undoubted
testimony of tlie christian fathers fr<Mn the
apostolic age downwards.
Tertullian, a celebrated Cartha^enian of
the second century, in his tracts against the
Jews, when enumerating the nations which
had embraced Christianity at that time, thus
zefers to BritcUn : — *' In whom else but that
Christ, who is already come, have all these
nations believed? all the borders of Spain,
the divers nations of Gaul, and those phices
of Britain into which the Roman arms have
not yet been able to penetratey but which are
sul^t to Chriit.'^ An obvious inference
from these words is, that Christianity must
have been well established in the more
civilized and accessible portions of Britain,
ere her influence could be felt in the wildest
regions. In the next century, Origen,
A.D. 230, triumphantly sums up the vic-
tories of Christ in these words: — "The
power of our Lord and Saviour is both with
those who, in Britain, are separated from
oar coast, and with those in Mauritania,
and with all who under the sun have be-
lieved in his name."* There is concurrent
witness that during this century tlie church
in these isles was not only existing, but
highly ^flourishing.
In the fourth century (a.d. 303), under
the emperor Diocletian, commenced tluit fiery
trial, the last of the ten persecutions. Gil-
das, and Bede, after him, tell us, in glowing
language, of the havoc it made in Britain.
*" Then it was,*' say they, " that Britain en-
joyed the highest glory by her devoted con-
iiNsion of God, and great was the number of
her martyrs." This persecution terminated
with the accession of our christian countr}*-
jBsir, Constantiney to the empire. " Now,"
smj^ our aatbora whom we have jast quoted,
"tAepcnecated Christians return from the
woods and mountains and dens of the earth,
re-establish the faith, build again the d»-
moiishod churches, erect basilicas of the
saints and martyrs, and, setting up again in
triumph their victorious Maiidards, cele-
brate their sacred rites with cleau hands
and hearts."
The empire had now become christian;
general councils were common ; and it most
not be forgotten, that tlirec of the bishops
from the printripal cities then in England,
representing their brethren and the dJiorch
of the island at large, had seats in, and sub-
scribed to the canons of, tlu; councils held in
Europe and Asia during this ceutiiry. At
one of these (Nice) we must bear in mind
that the indej)€ndence of aU national ckurdtm
was settle<l, and all foreign jurisd^ctum ej>
cluded, by canon law.
When the church was freed from ]M>rseca*
tion, she was soon exposed to the desolating
ravages of heresy. Early in the fifth ocn-
tury the British Church was assailed by tbe
fatal heresy of Pelagius, who is ^cneral^
called a Welshman, but was ]»robubly Scot^ts,
i.e., a native Irishman. Tliis called forth
the energies of native bisliO|is; but it was
not until the commencement of the sixtih
centur)' tliat the '' lieresy was utterly dissi-
pated unu de:>troyed," and then chiefly by
tlie eloquence of St. Darid^ bishop ^
Mineviaj afterwards primate of the churon
in Wales. At this period, St. JeronM,
speaking of the purity of the faith of the
British Church, pats it on a pir with thai
of Jemsalem. St. Clirysostom refers to tbe
British Church in several placcti. and in
such a way as shows that the faith received
by it from the apostles continued not onljT
pure and sound, but Jlourisfungf in his own
time, the fifth century.
We now arrive at the sixth centniy.
Britain had become independent. Tbe
Caledonians, celebrated in the ware of Agri-
cola, disappear, and their place is supidSed
by the Picts and Scots. The Bonians bed
not taught our ancestors the art of warfare^
and Vortigem found it necessary to call to
his aid a band of predatory Saxons. These
pirate savages soon 8ucceedi*d in repelling
the attacks of the Picts and Scots, and then
turned t^dt aims «cg&VDsX VVv^Vx ^vuvloyeis.
I
or TUE BRITISU CHURCH BK PROVED ?
55
w*s miser)* and dvsolatiun on i in('Indiii;;uiuU*r that common temi the &uoj»
numj fiti'in;; tu the mutmtains I and Ju^e^. Of these, the Brit ods, as we have
In the yi.-ar 587, within ten already scon, hud .embraced tlie christian
arrival ufAu;;nst in, thi> bishoiR) : faith in the times of the apostles; and .it
nd York occupied their resiXTtivu
96 St. Augnstin landed in Krnt,
the very time of Aairustin^s mission, seven
bishops, anil a pro])(>rtionate number of
i Eth«'lbert\s piTndsiion to preach I cltTpy, with an xm-hbishop, pn>sided over
rch r.f St. Martin's, Canterbury, ' the chun'h of Christ in tins ishmd. If
le Unmans. Tlic kin? of Kent
ii«jf of the S;ixon 80Vfri'i<nis at
u wlioni all were in some measure
[ert! he fimnil a chriiffian conijre
AuLiisthi brouirht the christian faith to any
of the Gonnan settlors in KnL'land, it Wiis
tiie Jutes, who inhabited the kingdom of
Kent; but even amon;; thorn lie cannot be
bering :tni"n:i its members no less : said to have luid the foundation, for Queen
uan EthfllM-rt's queen. Dr. Lin- ' Bertliu had her bishop befoi'e liis arrivaL
6 that Ethelhtrt was not ignorant All must confess that he " huU on another
.^1 whiMi Au!:pi»tin came. His I nutn* foundation" ami watered the seed
— "* Eth^'lbert could not be nnac- | already planted.
ritfa the chri.stian religi<Mi. It
ly the beli^'f of the mnjtyrity of the
ctM in liis domininus." This is a
i is llatly c<^ntradictor)* to the
of many Romish authors, who
1 thi* pot^jili' were Pagans. After
, C'.ii:s'."<Tati«in at Aries, he hold
clL'iracter onwards to the Kcfurmaticm.
794, Ch.-xrlemnpie summoned a px'at
last wonbi on sopa rating with tile
hops were; — "J l«iro&oe that you
ive peace ■with hretkrtn, you shall
Tritli ./«>ex ; and if you will not
We have thus shown that the British
Chunh d«'clared hor independence, and that
An^iLstin aeknowliH];;ed it with a threat. We
Imiasivn fr^m a Koman Catholic will now take a hasty tilanco at her protest-
a!to;rtther bcjirs «ut our sLite-
In
coun<-il of JSritith and other bisho^vs, at
Fninkfort, when the decrees of the second
council of Nice, notwithstandins: Poik*
s with a vii.'W of accomplisiiini!; a ' Adrian's countonauco, were " rejected,'* " de-
the British bi^h^ps; but ho wjis spiseil." and "condenmt-d." Durin;; the
al. We nmst rcnienilK?r thoy were Danish invasion, which spread over 200
art tcith him, not under him. j years, thi- British Cliun'h oxj)erionced sad
oppn^ssioij. The Danish nmnan-hs oocu]>ied
the. thnmo for twenty-eight ye^irs, after
which the ancient family wen* n-stored in
the jM-rson of Edward the (^»nfessor. lie
"vrav of life to the En,2;lish, you R'.sisted ** Paj^al apr^ression." Wo ha\ e now
f deadly eenye<uice at their hamhJ" i arrived at the darkest of the " tlark npres.*'
y preilietit»n had a bloiKly fulfil- ! The Xonn.an rule lasted eiirhty-cii^ht years,
some years afterwanls, 1,200 Each and all of its sovereigns, more or less,
iriests and monks (»f Ban;[;or were , protected the British Church. Henry II.,
aujilitered. We hope Au;;u>tin bcinp: resolved to CAtabli.^h his indepc>Ddenco
nvy to this desi:ni, in order to be ; of the Pope, called a council, a.d. 1164,
\ tiie British bisho[>s for refusing which a;p\>ed to the sixteen articles called
the ''Constitutions of Claremlon." The
''fathers of Ubertv" were excomnmnicatod
by the Pope for compelling John to sisn the
Magna Charta. The barons, in theikvign
of Henry III., sent amba-ssadors with a
letter to lay the grievances of the British
Chunh before the council of Ly<Hi8; this
letter concludetl with the foUiiwiug bold and
resolute expressions: — "We can no lon;;er,
with auy patience, bear the aforesaid o^Vt^^
sions; vrhichj aa they are detcfttabU to Go^
and maUf are intolerable to \i8, i\ft\tbtt will
to )ii*> authority. The learned
I the anlhority of Bode ('' who
ttle a« he well could that tcndeth
loar of the British Church"), and
ly writtTS, ]>rove that the extent
feas of Augustins preaching in
or tlie conversion of the S:ixon
fcod other inhabitants, was ver}'
eompari»vK to that of the native
hX the time of Augustins arnval,
» of Britain was divided into four
ipMking iiBereat languMges, viz.
w^JVa^Sevtf(Insb),MDdAfifflegJwe any longer endurt tliem." EA^w4 1.
56
OUGHT THS JEWS TO BE ADUTTTED TO PARIX/IHKKT ?
reusted the authority of tho Soman sec ; and
althoQgh he was threatened with excommn-
nication, he carried his point.
Edward II. positively refased to do
homage to the Pope for his kingdom. These
several facts plainly show that Englishmen
never lost sight of their indq)endence in
church or state. The reign of the third
Edward was ushered in by the "morning
star of the Reformation." It has been stated
by some writers, that the zeal which this
great man displayed was occasioned by
Dothinfi; else than the loss of the warden-
ship of Canterbury Hall, Oxford, of which,
they say, he was first deprived by Arch-
bishop Langham, and finally by Pope
Urban V. Light, however, is thrown upon
these matters by the discovery of the fact,
that the warden of Canterbury Hall and
the Reformer were two distinct inditiduaU !
The ttatute of premunire, passed in 1393
(reign of RichaM II.), gave such a blow to
the Church of Rome in this land, that it
daily decayed till its final destruction. The
4r8t TudoTj iu consequence of the rapacity
of the Papal see, her doctrines, errors, ar
corruptions, commenced the Reformation f*
which Wickliffe had prepared the wa
God frequently causes good to come out
evil. This is exemplified in the character
Henry VIII. A Romanist writes of him :-
" The last eighteen years of his rcipnn wj
one continued scene of rapine, of insult,
sacrilege, of bloodshed, and oppressio
Under the tortures of a guilty conscienc
and a rotten constitution, he died, in 1546
Yes, he died a Roman Catholic, and left, I
will, an amount equal to £600 per annur
for the recital of masses to get his soul oi
of purgatory I Thus, then, by throwing a
these testimonies together, we find that tl
British Church was in turn a prospero\
and Uidependent church ; a persecuted churc
maintaining her independence; a church du
represented in councils ; a church continual
protesting against all usurpations and im
croachments, until the period of the Rofo
mation, when she succeeded in casting t
every shackle, and broke forth in fre<
beauty and splendour. J. B.
OUGHT THE JEWS TO BE ADMITTED TO PARLIAMENT ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
This is a question continually agitating
the minds of the people of the United King-
dom of Great Britain and Ireland. All men,
of all religious sects, and of all political
opinions, take an equal interest in this much
controverted question — Ought Jews to bo
admitted into the legislature of these realms?
Twice has a Jew (Baron Lionel do Roths-
child) been returned by an enlightened Lon-
don constituency to represent its views in
ParlAment; and upon the last contest for
the representation of the important borough
of Greenwich, Alderman Salomons, a Jew,
was returned by a very considerable majority.
Four times have the House of Commons sent
up a bill to the House of Lords, for the
removal of the disabilities which prevent the
Jews admission into Parliament, and four
times have the Honse of Lords rejected that
bill; by these means nullifying the elections
of two large constituencies, and stultifyn
the opinions of the great body of the Britl:
representatives.
We are naturally led to inquire into tl
cause of what, at first sight, seems a curir>i
circumstance, viz., that a body of Briti.*
subjects in one house ^houId, upon four di
ferent occasions, decide upon the propriet
of emancipating the Jews from their pre-?*'!
remaining disabilities, and that anoth(
body, assembled under another roof, shoiii
as many times asseil its conviction of tl
impropriety of so doing. But the anonial
ceases when we take note of the differ.'!
classes which constitute the two assemblic
The Lower House b chiefly composed
country gentlemen, retired military and n:iv
officers, barristers, and merchants, togcth
with a fiur sprinkling of tho sc-ions of nob
lity; but this latter class forms only a sni:]
OUGHT THE JEWS TO UE ADMITTED TO PARLIAME:(T ?
57
■eci^o of tiic whole faooM. No elergrnum
of tlif Cbunrh of England, or priifst of the
Sm&a Catholic Church, is found within its
vilk While oo the other hand, the Upper
HflOK i» compoMd of peer» of the n-alni,
ud of the lords bishops and an hbishopt
tf the E»tabHshed CJiurcIi. Cnii we be
nrpHMd rach an ajiwniblj as tlif llousc of
LarAA fhooM throw ont a bill for the
Khnib^on of Jews into rarliaiucnt? The I west; and who finally settled, not only in
The Jews, ns we all know, were a people
inhabiting the land of Judca, the remn&nts
of whom, whi*n Jerusalem, their chief citv,
was taken, their temjile destn>yed, and their
tenltorj- hiid waste by Titui, the Roman
emperor, a.d. 70, departed from their natiye
countn- and distributi'd themselres oyer the
then lionuui empire, ponetnitin«r also to the
j Gaiiires on the east, and into Gaul on the
J««r!i haye eyer been regarded as un alien
a!id dtffnidt-d race. Can we \w ai^tunihhed,
tknLitbit the peert, so food uf their heredi-
tarr bounars and titlett, sliouM wis^h to
othbie the Jew from Parliament? They
baT« the foresight to perceive, that if once
every Enn»pcan state, but hpread themK*lyt*s
nearly o\er the whole Jmbitablc world.
Among other European states they found
thtir way into the IJritish isles, where they
were tnmted with the greatest cruelty and
dejinradatioii ; they were banisluMi in therei^ni
tbt dnn of the Ixmer House of Parliament of Kdward I., and were not n;;ain re-estab-
ti»' tkmrn open to the Jew, the time will j lished in this kingdom until alnrnt the time
of the Re.stonitioii. During the latter jwrt
uf the hi.st century, thr cuniiition of th«
JewM in Enn>p«* U-gnn to engage public
attention, and plans lor their moral and
political impn>vement were discussed and
carried into i-xccution. jn our own country,
a bill enal>ling Jews to prefer bills of natu-
ralization in Piirliami'Ut without receiving
the bjicrament, was {lasst'd in 1753, but re-
pi*aled the iu»xt year. In May, 1830, an
attempt was made in Parliament to remove
the civil disabilitii-s affecting the Jei^-s, but
was o]iposed by the ministry, and the ques-
tion was lost. Rut an act was passed, and
receiviril the royal assent, on the 31st July,
1845, entithfl,*'' An Act for the relief of
persons of the Jewish r«*ligion elected to
municipal offices," 8 and 9 Vic, c. 52, by
which a declaration, to be taken by the
Jews u|jon udmisfiion into municipal offices, is
substitutiHl for that prescribeil by 9 Geo. IV.,
c. 17. And in the following session of Par-
liament another act was passed, Mititled,
" An Act to relievts her Maj«»6ty*s subjects
from certain penalties and disabilities in
regard to religious opinions," by which,
among other statutes, so nmch of an Act of
Parliament of In-land (23 and 24 Geo. III.,
c. 38) which excepts out of the benefit of
tliat act (namely, the naturalization of oil
such fon*igners as shall settle in that king-
dom) persons professing the Jewish religion,
is re]M>aled. Thus all the disabilities pre-
venting the naturalization of such Jews as
were not naf uraMxim subjects, andYimdenim;
'Ae/ii from conscientiouslv holihng mw mum-
\m%^^timb0M^'tt^wtopMrliMin^t. /ci/wi oiWce^anM low removed. But\V\e»mfi
B«C be lar diatont when he will Im* abb* to
laok with, and take his seat by the yide of,
tW iMUR>t of the land ; that their own lieredi-
tan- titles and coronets will no longer grace
siQC« cliria>tian heads, bat adoni the hitherto
«li»j;iMied Jew, who has deserved sufficiently
«^ fif his sovereign ami of his conntry.
Ciawi* be surprised again tliat the spiritual
iunJA uf the t'pper House, the head^ and
f^rn uf a christian church, should be op-
Y*»^ to the a4imission of the Jew into Par-
tianrnt — the infidel Jew, who denies their
wli^itD. and ref^ds it as an impostiuv, a
mauiirly-de vised iable? Like the tem-
fonl Vtc^, they too anticipate the time
viwi] the unbelieving Jew shall be pi-miitted
t* fippoM* them on church questions, not only
in the Umue of Commons, but also face to
face on the fioor of the House of Lords.
Aid their religions prejudics naturally
iicSaft them to deny the policy and the
pvprieiT of allowing such men to j<Mn in
Ululating for a professedly christian coiu-
We mutt admit these ][«ejudices are very
•rtir»], bat at the same time we deem them
jEnnadleHi and unreasonable, and ought not
to be allowed to interfere with justice. Per-
k^ theae remarks may be deemed a digres-
■OB fnni the immediate subject of inquiry ;
vfiwe think they an not entirely so. They
It kast hint nt some of the grounds of ob-
JHSim afcainst the Jew, and in a measure
|Bifsr* the rendsr lor the consideration of
tke iMstinn We will now, howerer, proceed
if Mmmticnlly t0 prove tbmt the Jew
58
OUGHT THE JEWS TO BE ADMITTED TO PARLIAMEKT ?
kind of impediment which stood in the way
of tiieir holding any municipal offices, still
prevents their acceptance of any civil or
military offices under the crown, and ex-
cludes them from Parliament, and from the
possibility of being raised to the peerage.
It is necessary before entering into any of
these offices, or taking a seat in Parliament,
that a person should take one or more of the
oaths of allegiance, supremacy, and abjura-
tion, which are made " upon the true faith
of a Christian "^-oaths, therefore, which no
conscientious Jew would on any account
take.
We have to inquire, then, on the present
occasion, whether the Jews are proper per-
sons to sit in Parliament, so as to justify the
alteration of the oath of abjuration, that it
shall no longer stand in the way of their
admission?
Now although, as we have already seen,
the Jews were a distinct people, and were
long regarded by the people of these king-
doms as aliens; and although they may
perhaps even now be considered a distinct
race (European sects being believers in and
observers of some particulars in the ordi-
nances of the Talmud, which requires of
them the strictest separation from other
people)— yet, by long residence among us;
from living in subjection to and participating
in the benefits of the laws of the land — from
having lost their native tongue for colloquial
purposes and adopted our own — from having
become naturalized, and their descendant
consequently natural-bom subjects, they have
in a great degree lost their distinctive cha-
racteristics as a people. They are probably
a distinct race, from non-alliance in marriage
with our own races, but still their interests
are bound up with that of the state; and an
English Jew is as much an Englishman, as
a French Jew is a Frenchman. And again,
on English Jew is as much an Englishman
as an Englisli Protestant or Boman Catholic
is. The difference between an English Jew
and an English Protestant or Roman Catholic
is a religious difference; all are Englishmen
in thought and in feeling, and equally inter-
ested in the well-being of the state. And if
the races are difierent, what then? The
Jew bom within the dominions of the crown,
ofpAnnU not at enmity with the sovereign,
A bjrJaw a natural-horn subject^ and as such
sAoa/d la natural Justice bare the same
rights as other natural-bom subjects. If
the Jew were necessarily an alien, owing
allegiance to another sovereign, he would
very properly be excluded from Parliament;
and even if he were naturalized, could not
tftke his seat in the legislative halls of the
kingdom. But the Jew is not necessarily
an alien, or a mere naturalized subject. He
may be, and most generally is, a natural-
bom subject If a Fi*enclmian were to settle
in this kingdom, with his wife, and have a
child bom to him while resident here, and
France was at peace with the sovereign of
these realms, the child would be a nahiral-
bom subject as much so as any child bom
of English parents; and though that child
were brought up in and professed the Roman
Catholic faith, yet he would be entitled to
all the privileges of an Englishman. If,
when of age, he was ambitious of a seat in
Parliament, if he possessed the requisite
property qualification, and was duly elected
to serve in Parliament, there would be
nothing to hinder him from taking his seat.
In the name of justice, then, why ^ould not
the natural-bom Jew— he whose ancestors
have for many generations dwelt among us,
be excluded? Not, surely, on the ground of
his being descended from a distinct people?
Is the Jew a bad citizen? Is he fond of
disturbing the peace of the kingdom? Is
he rebellious and traitorous? Has he been
unfaithful to the trust already reposed in
liim as sheriff, idderman, justice of the
peace, &c? Is he eminently notorious for
dishonesty in his mercantile and business
transactions? No! he is a good citizen, a
peaceful and loyal snbject, a faithful and
upright magistrate, an honest and thriving
merchant, and aa industrious and painstak-
ing num of business. Is he not, tlierefore,
still further entitled to our confidence? We
have every reason to believe, that as he has
already proved himself to be a good muni-
cipal magistrate and administrator of the
laws, tliat he would exercise a just discretion
in the capacity of legislator. On what
grounds, then, would you exclude him fitmi
Parliament, if a laudable ambition should
stimulate him to seek the emancipation of
himself and his brethren from the incapa-
cities under which they lie, and ftwra the
stigma which, while those incapacities exist,
will ever attach to his name? Alas! he
professes a diSctenV ^aJiXk ic^m your own.
OUGHT THB JBWS TO BB ADMITTED TO PARUAMBHT?
59
Ani 10, beesTise his ccxnscience will not per-
mit bim to think as jon do upon spiritual
outten, yaa would mfkr him to bear the
n|fQich of imworthiness and nntrastiness ;
70a vgold deo J him the fall privileges of a
Bntidi sabject, and hare him remain under
(fasbiiitks which render him less free than
tbe child, bom xxpaa oar shores, of some poor
fiegrtt slave. " Is it rij^ht," it is urged by
thoM opposed to his admission into Parlia-
KMot. *^ that a man avowedly averse to the
ckrisdsa religion, should be admitted into
an aaemblj of profesiiing Christians, legis-
ku^ far a profeasedly duistian community,
vluch b tlie Upper House contains the
hn& sad rulers o( a christian church — is
it li^jbt to admit such a one into its coun-
cik, t nan who is bound in conscience to
oppeit all measures proposed for the welfare
ti that chiurch, and who would naturally
pfe utterance to views antagonistic to those
of the right reverend prelates in the House
tf Lofds, in all mattei^ pertaining to the
pofcxnance of that christian church of which
they tn the chief pastors ? " This argument
Booads plaujibly; let us see if it be so in
Rwity.
Altboogfa there is an Established Church
for Enghuid and Ireland, and another for
Soothad, yet all religious sects are tolerated
in tke United Kingdom. Roman Catholics,
DiiwUiJ, and Monconformists of all grades,
bsve five toleration to worship God in the
BttBer and according to the doctrines which
thcT deem moat in accordance with scrip-
tore. And the Jews form no exception. By
tbe set before referred to (9 and 10 Vic,
€. 59, § 8), ** her Majesty's subjects pro-
iianig the Jemsh religion in respect of their
teboola, places of religions worship, educa-
tioa, and charitable purposes, and the pro-
perty held therewith,'* are " subject to the
■■ae laws as her Majesty's Protestant sub-
iecti diasenting from the Church of England
•n aibject to.** The Jews, then, who num-
ber Mdy about 12,000 in the United King-
im^ have finee toleration allowed them.
Wkit more in this respect could they desire?
h there any probability of their ever at-
t^Qiptnig to impose theur own religion upon
^ people? "What motive could they have,
tin, in interfrrlng in church questions?
Whai oljcei vroold be guned in mterfmng
up the Soman Catholic or any other chris-
tian church in their place? The Roman
Catholic is an intolerant church, and they
would have far more to fear than hope if that
were the dominant church in these realms.
It is not probable, then, that the Jews would
assist in supplanting the established churches
of England and Scotland with the Roman
Catholic or any other church. They could
have no motive in interfering with church
matters, and would therefore refrain from so
doing, and accordingly absent themselves
from the debates upon such qnesticms. But
supposing they were to express their views
upon church matters, views repugnant to the
well-being of christian churches, would their
words carry any weight with them? We
cannot expect there would be many Jews in
Parliament at any one time; they would ever
be reckoned by units in the house, and
therefore powerless to effect any great influ-
ence in the national councils. Thus our
bishops, and the zealots of the various chris-
tian sects, have nothing to fear from their
religious views. Why, then, in the name of
common justice, suffer the Jews to be per-
secuted for their harmless religious opiniohs,
simply because they differ from your own?
I have endeavouri>d to prove that the
Jew, as a natural-bom subject, and as
a citizen, is as fit a person as any other
natural-bom subject of these realms, to hold
a seat in Parliament. And I have further
endeavoured to show that his religious opin-
ions can in no wise injuriously affect the
deliberaUons of that august assembly. I
humbly submit, therefore, that I have shown
there can be no reasonable objection to his
admission into Parliament.
As to the dislike the nobility may have to
number among them Jews, I think the ob-
jection scarcely worth a moment's notice. I
do not see why a Jew should not as grace-
fully, and with as much dignity, wear a
coronet, and become as faithful and judicious
an hereditary adviser of his sovereign, as a
Protestant or a Roman Catholic.
One word more. Neither the pr^ent
form of the oath of abjuration, nor any other
form of oath, is sufficient to exclude atheists
or infidels, or men void of conscientious
feelings, from entering Parliament and aX-
taining to the highest dignities m \\ve c^\«.
the wious lAtvtmn sects? Is it pro- 1 Why, then, should there be a form ^ oa\Si V>
"^ ^*1S^ "H Ajv«rtftmpra7^ tie welgb heavily and odiously upon t\ie «»-
tstMi&bed ebanbes, m order to set /scicntionM ,u:. 9 "^"^V i^OESiPaoa.
sacntioas Jew?
60
OUGHT THB JEWS TO BE ADMIT1*ED TO PABUAMEHT ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
The Jew was alwajs beloved of God for
the fkthers' sake ; and the especial and pe-
coliar character of the mission of Jesus
Christ proves, beyond the possibility of
doabt, that in the purpose of the great
scheme of redemption by the man Christ
Jesos (who is the link between the Godhead
and manhood, being himself both God and
man), the Jew stood first and foremost. We
find the Saviour affirming that he was sent
ctUff to the lost sheep of the house of Israel ;
and >vith reference to the blessing of the
gospel being bestowed on us, we find it
stated " to the Jewfirat^ and afterwards to
the Gentiles." Now, it is decUred in holy
writ that Jesus Christ came to take away
the first (the Jevrish and shadowy) dispen-
sation, that he might establish the second,
viz., the christian and substantial dispensa-
ti<xi ; but in such change the Jew was not
to be lost sight of. Enough has already
been said to prove that he was to be the first
called to embrace the truth, and be placed
in his proper position, not in the Jewish dis-
pensation, then about to be abolL*hed, but in
the christian (Uspensation, then about to be
established.
The Jew, unhappily, refused to obey the
call, and not only rejected the Son of God,
but refused to believe in liis mission. This
was, we presume, the act to which B. W. P.
refers in the January number of this pubh-
cation, and for which, he says, the people
were dispersed, and no longer sufiered to
exist as such. Tliis judgment of God has
not, however, left the Jew altogether with-
out hope; for had B. W. P. gone a little
further in his quotation, that '* the Gentiles
are not to boast against the branches,** he
would have proved, not only that tlie
iHranches (the Jews) are actually broken off,
but also that there is cmf, and only one,
means whereby they can be grafted in again ;
for the scripture goes on to say, that '' they
also, if they abide not in unbeUef shall be
grafted in again."
So l(Hig, therefore, as the constitution d
England remaiiis christian, and holds for
its fundamental doctrine, the fact that Jesus
Christ is the Son of God, and God as well
Ma tiuujf or the chnstinn church (which not
^o/f believes this fundsunenUd truth and
nrntJotuU fidth ^»iii aZw acJbiowiedges him as
her eternal and supreme Head) remains a
component part of the British constitation,
she necessarily places herself under tha
christian dispensation; and so long as the
Jew refuses to embrace the fifdth of tiua
nation, and tender himself to the bar of tha
House of Commixis as a Christiaii, readj
and willing, not only conscientiously and
sincerely to take the necessary oath, but
also to legislate for this nation upon tlie tme
faith of a Christian, we would humbly sub-
mit it is absolutely necessary for tliose whose
office it is to decide such matters, to reject
him, not only in order to act consistcDtlj
with the British constitution, and their owe
consciences and faith, but also because it
may still be open to considerable doubt
whether his even election is worth anything
in itself, the call of the peoj^e being, as laid
down by Bhickstone, to elect one ^''from
amongst themselves" which, in a fhriafJOT
constituency, cannot mean a Jew.
We trust the foregoing remarks will suffice
to prove that, upon every rule of principle
and constitutional consistency, it must be
morally wrong to receive the Jew as such
into the senate-house of this kingdom, and
wrmig for him to offer himself as a candidate
to a constituency.
It is perfectly true that to attempt to add
affliction to another's bonds, w dead haxahly
towards those who are suffering under the
judgment of the Almighty, is far from our
duty as Christians. We would not for one
moment allow ourselves to act upon such a
principle, or thus oppress the Jew. It ia,
however, on the other hand, desirable that we
should consider what we are doing when we
endeavour to raise the Jew from his present
subordinate position to that of a ruler over
ourselves, until at least he has renounced his
present creed, and become a subject of the
christian dispensatiim with ourselves, lest
we should thereby be made partakers of his
sin, and subject ourselves also to the like
judgment of God; for B. W. P.s quotation,
with reference to the Gentiles boasting
against the branclies, goes on to say, " lest
thou also be broken off." The laws of
Christianity will justify such a view; and
the law of this country also recc^nisea the
same principk, when it declares that be
who lAxWna t^ i«\fOTi, \xiQwmi4 Vxco. to have
OUGHT Tm JKWB TO BB AD3nTTED TO PARLIAXKJCT ?
61
cPiLinirt4Hl a fclonj, in hinu«>lf a partaker of
hii i-^DCt*. and punishable criniinally as an
«c«*)nr. The Jew mav not know the
fxtnt and nature of his sin, but we as
Ciih?tians cannot plead this i^niorance.
fiendes, it is Mibmitt(*d that to attouipt to
tmt the Jew into the position of a le^pslator
of a christian SAtion in his present state of
nbdief. would be only to add afiUction to
ka beods, and injnve his own conscience,
ad poasUj tiaerefay increase his punish-
acnt, as we sbould place him in a position
wW he would be called upon, not only to
drif his own fiuth m iota^ bat to enact
dsiftian laws for the reguiatiun of a
dkriitiaa drai^ and commnnitT, and also
to Qfhsld tbe faith of this nation, which he
B0t onlr deapiaes in his heart, bat openly
aad sfiwedlr denies and holds np to ridicule.
lie Jew is not to be despised because he
ii t Jew. nor refd^ed a place in the senat<^
Imk ti this nation because be lacks capa-
etr. wisdon, riirhta of manhood, or even
■onfisj, much leas that affliction may be
aided to his bonds, bat simply because he
KAwsto be a Christian, to become a member
flf t^ diriatian oonummity, and conform to
tb ralea of th« natian. Surely as we are a
eofmnumty, and the Jew (who
himself to be a stranger)
to participate in oar Iftd^lAtion, it
; be considered hard that he should be
Cifled opon to sabroit to the rules of the
toaetw to which he desires to belong; com-
■01 etaqisctte demands this, to say nothing
tf ioAezibLe juatioe.
Wa vw^^^ we are somewhat surprised
tittt the adTocates of the Jews should plead
M SB aigMtafc the fact that there is already
liuptki in aome of oor boroughs, and im-
laiaetion in some of our representatives.
The earraptian of boroogha tends greatly to
the evO which may arise from too
great a liberality in these days, for bribery
was scarcely heard of till the franchise was
extended; and if borouji^hs are so corrupt,
how much greater tlie necewity for a sound
and wholesome check upon them. We are
not prepared to admit the application of the
expres.-'ion uirnio use of by B. W. P., with
reference to the present members, viz., that
the **salt has lost its savour;" and we
think it would not go far to substantiate
the claim of him who cannot be compared to
salt at all. Nor do Me think the fact uf the
present admission of Rriman Catholics and
others (origioally denied a seat), whether
proper or nut, does in the least justify the
admission of the Jew; for however errooeoos
may be the faith and ojiinions of these se-
veral sectii, still they are in some sense
acknowledged to be members of t lie christian
community, and claim admisbion as such;
whereas the Jew comes boldly forth with
the denial of our faith on liis lips, and a
positive refusal to submit to the rules of our
nation and parliament house.
While we would contend for the purity
and exclusive Christianity of the senate-
house, we would refrain from offering any
opinion upon the strict right of all its pre-
sent members to their seats, but wonld only
add, should there happen to be any there
who ought not to be, we cannot perceive how
one error should justify another; nor do we
see any politioal reason why the Jew (what-
ever may be his rights as a man, or even a
citizen), as a Jtw^ should take his seat in a
christian senate-house. Me think we have
already said sufficient to prove such a course
to be morcUlff wrong ; and we will ther&>
fore simply close our remarks with Ben-
tham's most valuable and truthful maxim —
" Wliat is wiorafiy wrong cannot be poUticaJhf
right."
Vkritjis.
Ihe advantage ef living does not consist in length of days, but in the right improve*
of them. As many days aa are spent without doing some good, are so many days
ia BiRBtive, aa well as in description, objects ought to bo painted so accurately, as to
in the nind of the reader, distinct and lively images. Every useless circumstanoe
to be aappfCMod, becaose every snch drcumstaiK'e loads the narration; but if &
he wtetamej, however el^hl^ it cannot be described too miimtfiy^ — ^KoMMt.
h woe to he wsahai ar that wkieb woaU make leanuDg indeed solid and {rmtCuV tb;^
writea, — Socom.
62
WOULD OOMMUNI8M PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAN?
Inrial (grnunnn[. •
WOULD COMMUNISM PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAN ?
NEGATIVE AIITICLE.—II.
** Man never t« btit always to be blent."
Throughout the entire course of recorded
time this characteristic of human nature
obtains a verification. Dissatisfied with his
condition, at whatever period in his history
we pause, we find man propounding new
theories of life — new systems of society;
we find him struggling to realize some ideal
republic — a " city of the sun," in the hope
that there man with man in *' peace and
mild equality might dwell ;" that there the
intellectual aspirations of his being might
have a more complete development than was
admissible in the then present state. This
inextinguishable longing alter a happier con>
dition cf existence seems to be the impelling
element — the incentive to progress implanted
by our Maker.
Although these speculative theories have
been found inadequate to the end proposed
when attempted to be reduced to practice,
and although the good which it was fancied
would result from them has been vain and
illusory, still we would not say that they
have been altogether useless to the world.
The bare enunciation of the ideas, suggestive
as these have at all times been of abuses
i^uiring to be reformed, has checked the
growth of that apathy which too many feel
regarding all interests of any other than a
strictly lucrative nature. These ideas have
contributed to enlarge man's views of social
relationship; they have shown him that the
well'being of one portion of the community
cannot be sacrificed to that of another witli-
out endangering by convulsions the system
which admits of such injustice.
Communism comes to us recommended by
its antiquity. It professes to remove every
evil incident to the social state, provided we
adopt the principles it submits, which are,
equality of goods, equality of labour, and
equality of enjoyments. Be it our task to
show that the realisuttion of these principles
in practice would plunge us into difficulties
teafifJd more hnrntmng than the evils com-
piMi'ned of in oar present state.
W/tbout A cotempoT&neova change in the
natures of men, it is useless to seek to equalize
their fortunes. The Communists, without
seeking to effect that change, attadc private
property, as if a new apportionment of that
could be efficacious in checking the inherent
disposition to acquire.
The fundamental principle of Communism
is, that the earth and its produce ore the
common inheritance of the race, and, as a
consequence, that private appropriation is an
infringement of the common claim. This
principle is endorsed by U. M., and ex-
hibited by him with a deal of plausibility.
We concede at once that all men, in virtue
of their common nature, have an equal title
to the earth, but let it be specially marked
that that title is only to the earth in its
natural state. There never was a graver
misconception than that the earth in its
present cultivated condition is common pro-
perty. No; so soon as man individually
expended labour on the soil, so soon did that
portion of the soil on which such labour was
expended merge from conunon to private
property. Labour constitutes the right to
ownership. Labour is the original title to
property. This title has hitherto been re-
cognised ; but the Communists, fearing tJut
no comer is to be reserved for them, announce
the doctrine, that " the eartli and its usufruct
are common property, and cannot justifiably
be subject to private usurpation." Snch
fears, to say the least, are premature. The
globe is extensive enough to afford room fior
private appropriation for centuries to come,
if not as long as it shall continue to be the
tlieatre of human existence. Land may be
obtained in unoccupied territory for the toil
of subduing it; but if land be sought in
countries already occupied, then it is subject
to a burden or rent, which represents the
expenditure of labour in its reduction from
a state of forestry — in rendering rivers navi-
gable, in forming roads, in constructing
railways, and in securing the manifold ad-
vantages of a well-regulated state. No one
can expect these various advantages secured
to him wiibofut Qom^i\aa.\AA% \]ii« ^mscv. It
WOULD OOMMUniSM PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OP MAH?
63
vaj be iiuisted, that although it ia perfectlj
ja>: to exact rent for im|xt>reiiieiits efiected,
Tp*, is these is ail intrinsic value in the soil,
to tiiJd land in perpetoitj is a fraud coin-
aittai on socceeding generatioDS. We have
aimuij shown that there is soope for all,
ind that, at least, there exists no immediate
»ase of fear; 00 long as this is the case,
everj indncemeiit shoold be presented for
tile oocnpation of the world ; the more it is
pnssesaed, the greater guarantees have wc
fior its cuhiratioii and producdveness, and
the more serviceable is it to man. It is only
br sccurin.!^ to individuals unmolested posses-
aDD,tlut sufficient inducements are presented.
^it Coounnnists see in private wealth
the gniB of every evil incident to the social
ststa Thej do not see that the possessors
cf Teahh are few, and that the constitution
of soop^ is such that Uiose stand out pro-
mbentlj; that their station serves as a
tfannhis to an intenser application to labour
«o the puts of those who are not wealthy ;
thitbot for that wealth which they so much
<bciT, those extraordinary manifestations of
iBHhsaical skill which have so astonishingly
as^nnrated productiim, would have had no
oirtcnce save in the minds of the ingenious
pqjectom. C<nnmunist8 mistake regarding
the tnmsmission of wealth, and on this point
U. IL lays particular stress. They ima-
jpM that w«nUth is a perpetual inheritance ;
oov BO positioo can be more erroneous : every
ds/s experienoe tells us that fortunes are in
a rootinaa] flux, and it can be shown that,
QB an average, land even changes from
riches had no existoice; riches are merely -
accumulated labour. To seek to deprive me
of the results of my own or of my ancestor's
labour, is a species of justice which, as yet,
has happily mA no honourable precedent.
It must be from an inadequate perception of
the functions which wealth performs in
society, that the Communists' objections ori-
ginate. The wealthy are a necessary exist-
ence in the body politic
Supposing Communism was a practicable
scheme, we should hope for its realization,
not from the influence of any institutions,
but from an increasing intellectuality. The
fact is, reason as we mav, from infancy to
age, man clearly manifests his attachment to
private property.
We must, whatever social form we adopt,
accept human nature as it is. The Com-
munists, however, seek to remove the fear of
want, forgetting that that is one of the
strongest motives to our activity. The fear
of want is the chief source of the civilization
to which we have attained. If that motive
to action be withdrawn, what shall secure us
against a relapse into barbarism? The wind
that tosses the ocean is that to which we
are indebted for its salubrity.
The upholders of Communism take a too
favourable view of human nature. They
imagine man a being inspired by the most
exalted sentiments, the most sublimated
disinterestedness, the most heroic abandon-
ment of self. Such godlike qualities do
gleum out at rare intervals, but their duration
is transient. One can scarcely bring himself
to the belief that man, as pictured under the
Communists' regime, is the same being which
we find in our state cavilling about every
little discrepancy between liis own and his
fellow-labourer's remuneration. We do not
say this dcprecatingly, but we repudiate the
ideal which Communists create. We believe,
that were Communism attacked on this one
point, the remuneration of labour, its un-
workableness could easily be made apparent.
While we are on this subject we shall submit
one or two remarks for the consideration of
those who support the affirmative.
In order to secure the honest co-operation
of each member of the community, it will
be necessary that the common workshop be
adopted; this is the only secunty t^|;Bkka\•
idleness, for to each the idea l\iat \iQ fSbaaX
Bat fHrn- 1» the caJtiTMtian of the goiJ, / enjoy or want iuBt as the comnwa aitoi^i*
to £uni]y erery three or four gene-
Ten years hence — ^ay, less — the
BoUnnan may be little better than a pauper,
lad ten yean hence the plodding youth may
be a respected esquire. Ours is a state in
vUrh labour having its appropriate reward,
tO the eoergiefl of mind are developed to their
ntanst Hmits. It is by the uncontrolled
fUftioD of man's fiKulties that property has
its growth. Opulence serves a
end in the general economy; it admits
of kisore lor study, and attracts to itself
boats of Htermiy aspirants, whom it gene-
nody fosters. But we have already said,
ti the efiect, that as all inheritors are not
aSke pmdent, it is impossible that wealth
can fwntinna in the same fiunihes for a Jong
Wealth ia diffbsive.
64
WOULD COMMUNISM PROMOTE THE HAPPIirBSS OF MAS ?
in a prosperous or in a depressed condition,
is too remote to awaken active interest.
Each member would loiter, in the belief that
bis neighbour was performing bis full com-
plement. Without the common workshop
Communism could not exist. But a difficulty
arises. One man can,- in the same space of
time, do a third more work than another;
will the knowledge that he is a participator
in the common benefit resulting from that
increased amount of labour satisfy him ?
Assuredly not, if his nature retain the cha-
racteristics which it has at present. The
swifter worker should either labour a shorter
period, or should obtain an increase of remu-
neration; but if he labour a shorter period,
that will be^et disquiets, and if he obtain
an increase of remimcratioo, private property
will reappear.
Communism is open to another objection :
the equality it presupposes is inimical to
the generous culture of the mind, inasmuch
as it ofters no special encouragemen'^ to
skill. The illiterate clown and the cunning
artificer share the like fortune; this equality
is refuted by nature, for the baser own a
servitude to the nobler minds.
Communists err in making their calcu-
lations respecting men only as masses, only
as so many units who shall fall into the
different positions assigned them, without
any more ado. Nothing can be less philo-
sophical ; there is an individniUity in eveiy
man, and some men stand out in hoAd relkf
from all other men. Those require a separate
legislation. Napoleon-like, they would con-
vert the community into an army.
Communism is a* system from wiiich oar
sympathies revolt. The innpidity of its
i routine — the total want of stimnlos to ener-
getic action — ^the non-existence of that inter-
course which in our social state contribates
so materially to educate the man; — these,
over and above those we have adduced, form
valid objections to the system. We have no
faith in its practicability, and of course no
faith in i^ capability of promoting the hap-
piness of man. J. N.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
Sir, — I observe an able srticle on the
negative side of this quration, in the late
number of your valuable periodical, from the
pen of C. W. Jun., on which I design to
found a few remarks. The first of the con-
elusioas to which this writer appears to have
come is, " That Communism in theory has
1^ never fdiown itself adequate to meet the
wants, and promote the happiness, of man."
Is this conclusion a correct one? If so,
how comes it about that the idea, even ac-
cording to his own account, has been ever
and anon making its appearance from a very
early period? How was it that so large a
portion of the Communistic element was in-
trsdaced by God himself into the laws and
constitution of the Israelitish nation? for it
must be acknowledged that their land was
not |Hrivate property in the same sense in
whidi land is at present held ; so far from
this, it was inalienable from the family to
which it was at ^rst allotted, so long as
that family existed. Nor was money held
altogether as private property ; for usury, in
all its forms, is most emphatically con-
demaed, while the man who retained as a
ff^jg'^ fbe poor maa'a gurmeot was cnrsed.
^a«r ihe JOMtUutiooM of the Ifonic economy
were not altogether Communistic we grant;
the reason they were not is probably to be
found in the people themselves. How en-
tirely so is the spirit of their scriptures is
evident from the summary of the Locd him-
self—*' Whatsoever ye would that men shonld
do to you, do ye even so to them; for this is
the law and the propfiets"
Further, if the theory of Communism be
so defective, how was it that the apostles
were Communists, and exemplified their sen-
timents by forming the first christian chorch
into a community ? and when this oommunitj
was in straits, from various causes, how was
it that they urged upon other churches the
importance of asbisting them, not as an act
of charity, but as an act of duty? And
how is it that, even now, surrounded as we
are by individual cares, that when we are
enabled for a few moments to forget things
as tbey are, and think upon them as they
ought to be — and would be, were all men
influenced by Christianity as Christianity is
intendeil to influence men — we dwell for ever
upon a happy Conunnnistic state? Surely it
is that the principle contains within it some-
thing Vital, eN«[v\kQiu^\v men may at present
be in an unfit «Xil« isc HiA ^tsosti^ «^q\^^«
WOULD OOSniUNISM PROMOTE THE HAFPINESS OF MAN?
65
their own hapinness; for Christians are, for
the more part, happj in proportion as thej
are nsefol. '*It has been remarked," sajs
the Rer, T. Smith, "as a fact worthy of
obserration, that when the United Breth-
ren first undertook to send out the word of
salvation to the benijS^hted and perishing
heathen, their own congregation did not ex-
incapable of benefiting the ceed 600 persons; and of these the greater
Hie second ooBclasion to which C. W. has
imied is, that Commimisni has prored a
&Oirein practioe.
Sippose that all that our firiend has ad-
niBid on thia point be admitted, it cer-
tMJT would not prore that the principle of
CooBiwitsm is incapable of practical appli-
atioD. or thai, if fairhr and practicallj
sppBed, it i "
aecL It may onlj prore Uiat the persons
«)m have aCtempted to earrj oat the princi-
ple have not hem adapted to the work, or it
naj provB that the worid has not been
SiffideDtlj adrancerl to carry ont the prin-
ciple. Manr themes have become possible
tf kte Tears which, ages ngo, would have
bm impossible ; and many things, we have
meao to believe, will be possible in ages to
MK, vhidi, in the present age, are not so.
Aetxg^ng to onr friend*s own account, these
two latter would appear the more probable
Ruons for failare.
If a principle of so sacred a nature is to
be carried oat successfully, it must be car-
&€il out by persons who have fiuth in it.
XoT it is not certain that all the leading
fofties who have hitherto superintended ex-
pmoents of a Communistic character have
kSnvd in the principle. The probability
ii.tkflt it has been adopted in more cases
tin «it from mere selfish motives, to
aisvtr selfish or party purposes. Who, for
iutsDoe, would answer for the fairness of
tke late experiments in France?
Bat tiie prindple has at least partially
■ceasded in the case of the Moravians, even
acearding to onr friend*8 account — "These
tttm to have been the most sucoenful of all
Mcts of Gommnnistic adventurers." If, then,
these seets. Hat Moravians and others, have
in Mine measore suocessful, it is but
to ask, has their success in any
tended to promote the happiness of
I? If it has, tiien the principle of Com-
if genemlly adopted in a simihu*
6m, would be Ukely to promote a similar
xendt ; if not^ it may be well to ask whether
^bS» axnngement has done anything to pro-
Bsle tbm mm happiness as a body? Per-
haps the best method of answering this
will be by asking and answering
visw — Has the fact of the Mora-
fiviBg in a Communistic stste done
te mwoMfAi tiidr luefalnesa in
thMwmUr
part were exiles from their native land,
who after and during the most cruel perse-
cutions on acooant of tlieir religion, found a
tranquil and hospitable asylnm on the estate
of Count Zinzendorf." " So ardent was
the zeal, bowevCT, which glowed in their
bosoms, and so abundantly were their unos-
tentatious attempts owo^ and blessed by
the Great Head of the church, that, within
the short period of ten years, their heralds
of salvation erected the banner of the cross
in various distant parts of the earth, and,
through their instrumentality, it may be
confidently hoped that many who were for-
merly sitting in darkness and in the shadow
of death are now standing before the throne
of the Most High."
Now the question arises. Would these
people have been of as much use if the Com-
munistic. element had not been introduced
among them. This question would perhaps
be best answered by comparing the numbors
of this body with the numbers of other
bodies, and the benefits which have accrued
from their missionary efforts, with those
which have resulted from the efibrts of anti-
Communistic bodies; our space, however,
would not admit of any very extended com-
parison. We shall therefore content ourselves
by giving the result of such a comparison as
given in Buck's "Theological IMctionary,*
by Dr. Henderson: — "But the Moravians
have exceeded all in their missionary exer-
tions. They have various missions ; and by
their persevering zeal it is said that upwards
of 23,000 of the most destitute of mankind,
in difierent regions of the earth, have been
brought to the knowledge of the truth.
Vast numbers in the Danish islands of St.
Thomas, St. Jau, and St. Croix, and the
English islands of Jamaica, Antigua, Nevis^
Barbadoes, St KitU, and Tobago, have, by
their ministry, been called to wQr«h\Y 0^
in spirit and in trath. In the mho&pYU&Att
climates of Greenland and Labrador lYi«f5
M^ tbmitJiaa p/moffted / Jure met with fthandaiit mccflu, tflet Tffld«»-
66
KUROPEAK PHILOSOPHY.
going the most aBtonishing dangers and
difficulties. The Arrowack Indians, and the
negroes of Surinam and Berbice, have been
coUected into bodies of faithful people by
them. Canada and the United States of
North America have, bj their instrumen-
tality, afforded happy evideuces of the power
of tlie gospel. Even those esteemed the
last of human beings, for brutishness and
ignorance, the Hottentots, have been formed
into their societies, and upwards of 700 are
said to be worshipping God at Bavians
Cloof, near the Cape of Good Hope." Such
b a specimen of the labours which have been
accomplished by a oomparatiTely insiguifi-
cant body of Christians, labours which, but
for their adoption of the Communistic ele-
ment, would have been impossible. If a few
hundreds of persons hare, by the adoption
of this principle, been able to accomplish so
much, what might not have been the state
of the world at the present moment if the
entire christian church, during the last 1,800
years, had pursued a similar course? From
such facts as these we conclude that Com-
munism, if properly carried out by persons
who are imbued with its spirit, is well cal-
culated to render important service to the
family of man.
L.I.
€^ UmM Itrtinn.
EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.
BT THE AUTHOR OF "THE ART OF RKASOSHNO.**
PROLOOOMEKA.
The mind of man cannot long remain unagitatcd by the troublings of great thoughts —
cannot long remain unstirred by the promptings of a pangless, solenm curiosity — cannot
long refrain from inquiring, What am I? — ^Whence came I? — Wherefore am I here? —
Whither am I bound? — ^and do no rocks bestud this life-sea on which I am embarked?
There seems to be a necessity inlying in the soul to cast its eye forth towards the
infinite and the absolute, that it may snatch a glimpse of that Omniscient One who sits
enthroned amid creation's amplitudes — to wonder at the busy play of thought, emotion,
and reason with which its consciousness is being continually impressed — to watch the pro-
cess of thought-evolution in order to \tam the genesis thereof — ^and to engage in the
attempt to solve the problems of the reason regarding the mystery of being. Is there a
criterion of truth — a test of evidence — ^an absolute touchstone by which verity may be
discovered? is a question wliich must frequently disturb the mind. Man cannot restrain
the speculations of the reason regarding his essence and his destiny, when it attempts to
ascertain whether he is a merely passive recipient of concatenated and sequential im-
pressions— a mere educt of some stupendous syvtera of causation-linked phenomena — a
partner in the irreversible fate of the atoms and automata with which the dreary uniform
and monotonous whirl of law-governed antecedence and sequency has surrounded him—
or a self-motived being — an independent and differentiated existence, subordinated only
to the over-mastering authority of a CreatOT-God, continent of an investigative power
vspab)e of making a caUcviliu of the laws of matter and of being, and of consorting these
to tie prodnctiim and Mtttunment of his own ends and aims — ^" the interpreter of nature,"
^oU of Jntuitioaas, £utbB, voUdoas, and desires. yAm \iaa ds^ ti^V. vsx^\\»sq4^\&'^
BtTBOPBAir PHIUWOPHT. 67
** Thfejr veixe upon tba mind, urrtst, and search,
And shake it— bow the tall soul as by winds ;
Bosh OTcr it like rivers over reeds
Which quiver in the current— turn us cold,
And pole, and voiceless — leaving in the brain
▲ roddng and a ringing— glorious,
Snt momentary."
If any, in him have been planted the first germ-sccds of philosophic thought. Snch
ideas it la the business of the Mind-analyst to steady before conception's eye, and by a
siT«R bracing and perserering ratiocinatiye stmggle, to attempt to become the discemer
tad deoMBistrator of their real significanry. This is the mission of Philosophy.
Whence come such thoughts, and wherefore? Are they the primal throbbings of
tbe consdonsness awakening into energy &d vital power, and eagerly inquiring for a
disitw^h may become the soul's guide on its life-journey? We think so. We think
that m such thoughts Nature speaks — speaks to call man's higher, nobler being
into ardent and active vitality. They are the soul's protest against the " dull, flat,
stak, and unprofitable'* utilitarianism and inglorious self-case to which mere physical
stod]» incline the mind. They are silent, yet eloquent, monitors regarding the duty,
oetyssitT, and advantages of acquiring self-knowledge.
Lttus not be misunderstood. There are no sincerer admirers of human skill — no
iBore hopeful spectators of human prcM^ression— no more devoted co-workers for man's
adraacement than ourselves. We look with pride upon that positive science, the gradual
pmih of centuries, by which those worlds which, to the sensuous eye
" Seem but as specks of tinsel fize^in heaven
To light the midnight,"
SIC weighed and measured, have thdr orbits gauged, and their progresses and perturba-i
tMB subjected to mathematical skill — by which pages of God-written history have
hua dog from tiie depths <^ our planet — by which creation's elemental atoms have been
aoilyied and rendered subservient to human use — by which the laws of ^ life, health, and
^mse'^ have been discovered — by which the lightnings are already, and the winds
wm about to become, the winged messengers of human purposes and thoughts.
We think with ecstacy upon that Titanic effort of human genius, the application of
steam to practical purposes. We admire the perfection of the fictile, the textile, and the
fiaitic arts. "The products of the arts and industry of all nations" have excited in us
aitosashment, surprise, and awe. Our commercial, trading, civil, and governmental
idatioos, so accurately adapted, so sedulously cultivated, so almost perfecUoned, have made
Bi laarrel at the extent of human ingenuity. All these have made us sensible of the vast-
aos of human knowledge. But they have done more. They have rendered us cognizant
. rf the fact of man's comparative ignorance. Of the universe much is known — of its Creator
bw Httle ! Of the method of producing effects man's knowledge is vast— of the Self by which
4ectB axe produced, what know we? In the amassing of facts, the colligation of ideas,
ti» vpbuikling of theories, the ransacking of nature, arranging, categorizing, ut^ux^,
«« tat wise. But is them no higher wiadom, no more glorious progresaioTi, than ibift^ Ae
l^MkamU dafthmtioB of man coacemed oalj with hnymg and BeUing— \Sifi ftU\» ^
68 KUSOPBAN PHnXMSOFHT.
things on 'Change— the prices current of cottons, silks, com, leathers, furs, &c. — the
preparation of dye-stuffs — ^the printing of caHcoes — the prodaction of apparel — the
tillage of the earth — the manufacturing of steam-ships, steam-looms, and other artfully-
constructed cnginry and mechanisms? Or is there a progression more consonant to,
and more intimately connected with, the nature, duty, destiny, and cliaracter of the
thought-agency by which these are produced? To such questioning does not evexy
human soul exclaim with mighty-minded Fichte? —
*'Kot for its own sake, but for the sake of that ybr tchkh it prepcurea tu, can I support
this world, esteem it, and perform my part in it with joy. My mind can take no hold
on it, but my whole nature rushes onwards with irresistible force towards a futurt and
a better state of being. Shall I eat and drink only that I may hunger and thirst ; and eat
and drink again, till the grave, which yawns beneath mc, shall swallow mc up? Shall I
beget other beings in my own likeness, that they too may eat, drink, ami die, and leaTs
others behind them to follow their example? To what purpose this perpetually rcvolvii^
drole, this everlasting repetition, in which things are produced only to perish, and perish
only to be again produced? — this monster continually swallowing itself up, that it may
agun bring itself forth, and bringing itself forth only that it may again swallow itsdf
up? Never! Never can this be iTty destiny, or that of the world I Something that is
to endure must be brought forth in all these changes of the transitory and the perishr
able — something which may be carried forward safe and inviolate upon the waves t£
time.'*
It was a sublime saying of Kant's, " That there are two infinities displayed to ereiy
human being — the infinity of the universe, in which he is a dweller, and the infinity
(speaking it not impiously) which is contiuned within us." But the infinitude of the
outward universe — the gorgeous pavilion of the sky — the world-gems deep in midnight's
lizure set — the presidential day-orb — ^the heaven-piercing hill — the steep-falling cataract
—the broad prairie — the circumvolving ocean, shall fade from the eye which beholds H.
The mind, however, that other and more glorious infinity, created in the image of the
All-wise, shall endure, when the sun, amid cloudy masses of intensest splendour, ahaH
abdicate his presidency — when
" Dimly uplifting her belated beam
The blank unweloome round of fhe red moon "
has shown itsdf, then vanished in the smoke of earth's entire destruction ; for
"Death's at work,
And one by one shall all yon wandering worlds, —
Whether in ort>it path they roll, or trail
In an inestimable length of light
Their golden traia of liBaa» after tiiem —
Cease;
«
• • • »
* * And thou and I shall live as now."
2^ then, tho gtadj of the beautiful delight — if inquiries regarding the sublime captivate
'^if pbjvicMl discaverkB excite admiration, and win an easy power over tlie booI — if the
f'^'^Bden ofBataremad a£ art, wJiich are but tkeedwxrtors fll\i»iDMA/\^V««*.«^
BUBOrBAK PHILOaOPHT. (f
—law much more ought we to feel eothajnasm in the study of that immortal power which
dvells within, aod u oanelveft?
Were studies chosen on accoont of their intrinsic (not their apparent) value and
utililj, which coold for a moment compare with SpecalatiTe Philosophy! One of man's
wikst and most important duties, for instance, is self-examination; but how can
liat be effeetoally entered upon and accomplished without the keenness of intellect and
Kcancy of thinking — the dear-thoughted, skilful discriminativeness, and the capacitj
&r thoQght-snntomiMtion which results from a study of " the Science of Mind? " By thit
itadj we learn the various powers of the mentality, their reUtive duties and inipor*
Uaee, our own deficiencies of intellectual power or culture, the most effectual remedies
£r saeh deficiencies; and in the very act of studying the mind, wc elevate, refine, and
infrvre oar nature. But, it may be objected, tlmt men have thought worthily
actfsd ashly, and improved themselves marvellously, to wliom the very name of specib-
kdTe sdrace was unknown, and into whose hands no treatise on the human mind ^^A
erer ibvad its waj. True and undeniable, indeed! But even so men lived, moved,
thdr Uood circulated, and their bodies performed all the functions of life before Hip-
pocntes, Gakn, Harvey, &r., and their disciples, had ascertained the laws of life, the
■^f'fr^^*"** and diversities of disease, and the few remedial agencies which thej
cmpknr; and if it is of high moment that men should study the laws and conditiom
«f budily health, and should conform to their injunctions, is it not of far greater impor-
tsnce thai they should learn the laws and conditions of mental health, in order that
hocafter thcj may be enabled to labour intelligently in the accomplishment of those
Bsfak dnties of humanity — self-elevation, self-control, and self-reform?
Tvn wc now to another phase of this "many-sided** topic, namely, its influence on,
with, EducatioB. In this point of view Philosophy has been deno-
by Bame*s greatest orator, Cicero, '*the parent of life— the medicine of the
mother of good deeds and sayLugs.** If it be of great importance that man
aksold be educated — that his moral and mental nature be educed— then the study of Phi-
ksopky partakes of that importance; for, unless we know what is within — unless we
■Bilenitand the powers which are enclosed— how can we lead them out? If it be neces-
ssrr that the agriculturist should know the properties of the seed on which his culture
is to be expended before he aj^lies that culture, it is surely much more necessary that the
«dacator ^oold possess a knowledge of the faculties of the soul. How true are the words
of Dr. Thomas Brown! " The tme science of education — that noble science which has
tht charge of training the ignorance and imbecility of infancy into all the virtue, and
pcfwer, and wisdom of mature manhood — of forming of a creature the frailest and
fe^klest, peihaps, which heaven has made, the intelligent and fearless sovereign of the
whole aoimated creation, the interpreter, the adorer, and almost representative of the
Uviaity— is the Philosophy of the human mind applied practically to the human mind;
«ukhing it, indeed, with all that is useful or ornamental in knowledge, but at the same
taw giving its chief regard to objects of yet greater moment; averting evil, which all
the laeDces ooold not esmpensatc, or producing good, compared with which all Mienfi«ft «ct
-i^Akimmat^g^cfFbikBopbjriaDeeemarj to Mil, inasmuch as we are i^ edxkcaJWtt.
70 SVROPKAK PHILOeOPBT.
Friendship, affectaon, patemitj, filialitj, aasodation, are aU proceaaea of edncatioiif irhich,
to oondact aright, require an acquaintance with the human aool, ita fi^oltiea, ita aspirations,
and ita tendencies. Each man is the educator of his brother man. ^ghty truth, how
eaailj spoken, how diflScult of full realization! Oh, that we could rightly estimate our
responsibility, and accurately calculate the influence for good or eril which we scatter
through the world! Music, Poetry, Painting, Sculpture, Histoiy, Conversation, Business,
Debate, &o., can only exercise themselves well as educational agents when directed by a
mind carefully and elaborately acquainted with the resulta of apeculstive science. From
this remark it will be perceived, that we do not think that education folfils ita duties
correctly or adequately when it atorea the paasive mind w^ the chief facts of thos^
branches of knowledge most in request, but when it excites the germinating powers of
the soul to the productions of new thoughts, new conceptions, new imaginations and ideas,
l^th all due deference, then, to the positivism and utilizing spirit of '^ the present age"
'— despite of the prevalent disposition of men in our own day to reiterate the qnestiozis,
** cm bono t " and " how much per cent, f " — ^we would most respectfully depone, that, merely
in consequence of our inertitude and carelessness regarding the problems of Psycholo^,
mighty truths which might set the world astir, and move the deep stagnation of men*s
souls, are slumbering in the oblivion caused by our deficiency of skill so to develop and
educe the mental faculties as to enable men to bring forth their latent-lying thoughts in
such a manner as must impress and penetrate the world. We do not believe that all
investigations except such as regard mere sensuous appearances are impracticable and
absurd. We do not believe that no solution can be found for the problems of the Keason,
We do not admire the protracted apathy of this gold-adoring time to the momentous
queries which the soul is necessitated to propound. We do not look with complacency on
the practical contempt which men entertain concerning the irrepressible instincts of theii
nature — that forth-goingness of soul which implicitly asserts the nnsatis&ctoiy natni^ o^
the present, and is the subatratum of the thoughts and speculations in which nieta<
physicians are engaged. Well, but — it is argued against us — if it be true, as you assert
that the soul of man is naturally and irrepressibly urged on to desire a reconclliatioi
between the perplexing anomalies amid which it finds itself placed, how account ye fb
the h^t which you yourself admit and lament, viz., that there is a manifest disinclinatio]
in the public mind to occupy itself with Philosophical speculations? One answer t
this is obvious. Man is a dual being; there is within him a contention of natures ;
strife between mind and matter — a conflict between the outer and the inner world— ^^n
man has become embondaged in the present, the practical, the utile, the positive, th
sensuous. Reason and Faith — the intuitional and the external — man*s state and lil
desires — human nature and the material world, are at variance, and man has acquiesce
In the materialistic, and oppugned the spiritual, instead of striving after their oonser
taneoua union and agreement. The slave cannot remain ungalled, so neither can tl
mind long refrain from exerting that aggressive and progressive energy which incline
it to ponder on the mystery of cognition, to reflect upon the nature, powers, and des^ic^i
of Him who setteth the mechanisms and spiritualities oi creation in motion, a^<} <
muse upon the after-destiny which awaits it. Positivism, it is true, replies th.&t; ^
things are passive and endoring^that nowhere is there anything possessed of i^ 3^1
XUBOPKAX PHIIjOSOPHT. 71
I
modre fbjnce^ bat eveiTwhere an inherited and inviolable mobility — that antecedence
aod teqoencj are bound together by an invincible and irrefragable law — that change
soeeeeds change in nnalterable consecution — that force after force whirls its gigantic
v^Tes athwart the universe irrevocably and indissolubly interlinked. Positivism becomes
tkas the n^:atioQ of Philoeophy, and denies the possibility of our ever attaining any
lugber knowledge than that which relates to Law. Thus whispers she to the human
Kol— The pondenraa orbs which circle amid the dark-blue sublimities of heaven — the
comets which traverse the inunense vastitudes of the universe — the sterm-maned ocean —
" Dark4ieaTing, boundleM, endless, and sublime,"
Ttiidi ai^tears to ttf as if, in very wantonness of spirit, it tumbled tumultuous in its
fieroeoets — the wind, the poet's image of inconstancy, which to human eye ^*bloweth
vfaitlienoever it listeth,'* move not but under the governance of Law, and why shouldst
tluo,
** Poor thing of doubt and clay, whose faith is built on reeds,"
mapat that thoa art free to will — that thou art not also one of the legion of dependent
ud psanve beings — a slave of *' circumstances that unspiritual God* — a link in the
munletrmjUd. chain of sequentiality — an item in the muster-roll of efiects? Wherefore
^Qokest thou that <fa the circumference of the giddy wheel of Fate thou art not also swept
flDward to thj destiny ? Why dost thou suppose that will, purpose, or action, are more
OBtroQable by thee than the orbitual onsweep of the comet — the measured march of the
no^B^t constellations — the ragings of the upsurging ocean — the outbursting of a volcano
&e,ar the howlings of the tempestuous wind? Let me assure you, that as the forest-leaf
is bone resstleasJy away on the wings of the AraUc simoom, so also art thou driven
aloBg in the impansing circuit of phenomena-governing Law. Philosophy attempts to
lead OS OQt of this ^ house of bondage"— to free us from the prison-withes of passion
and «f eircnmstance "wherewith we are darkly bound" — to burst the fetters of the
fttsfistie Logic with which physical science is apt to enthral us. It offers to lead us out
«f tbt T^oa of sophistication, uncertainty, and apparency, into the territory of the true,
the eertaxn, and the absolute. It denies that the laws of man*s being are given only in
)a» organisation — that he is a powerless agent in the flux and reflux of circumstances—
thst his present nature is the measure of his powers — that his inclinations are the visible
ksodwriting of the invisible yet resistless power of Law<^that it is vain to resist our
lo^nbeft, and sinless to pursue the ordinances of Destiny. It professes to be able to satisfy
the yearnings of the soul — to be capable of unfolding to the mind of man those high
thoigfats and principles which ought to regulate the conduct, govern the reason, overrule
the jfiflBiirp*, elevate the nature of man, and teach him to—
*' Adore with steadfast, unpresoming gaze
Thou Nature's essence, mind, and energy.
And gazing, trembling, patiently ascend.
Treading beneath their feet all visible things
As steps that upward to their Father's throne
Lead graduaL" Coleridge'* " lUligious Mutingi:'
It fnioMS to have the power of informing man regarding Destiny, Nature, the Soul, Qod,
sad sH that intercctmg series of trntbs wbJeb are involved in these mystery-embioxx^ed
72 THE IMPORTAXCB OF APPLICATICy TO STUDY.
In onr next we shall inquire what is the genesis^ or birth-soorcc, of philosophic
thought — what is the natnre of the queries originated in the philosophic intellect. These
things we think it necessary to consider briefly previous to our proceeding to unfold to
onr readers the several solutions which hare been given to " The Problems of the Season."
Such a consecutive and concatenated view of " European Philosophy " as we then purpose
to present, cannot fail of being useful, gratifying, and mind-improving; for there is much
truth in the words of Buffon, " How much useful knowledge is lost by the scattered forms
in which it is ushered into the worid ! How many solitary students spend half their lives
in making discoveries which have been perfected a century before their time, for want oft
condensed exhibition of what is known."
THE IMPORTANCE OF APPLICATION TO STUDY.
It is by diut of steady labour — it is by giving enough of application to the work, and
having enough time for the doing of it — it is by regular painstaking, and the plying of
constant assiduities— it is by these, and not by any jifroeess of legerdemain, that we
secure the strength and the staple of real excellence. It was thus that DemostheofS,
clause after clause, and sentence after sentence, elaborated, and that to the uttermost, his
immortal orations; — it was thus that Newton pioneered his way, by the steps of an
ascending geometry, to the mechanism of the heavens — afler which he left this testimony
behind him, that he was conscious of nothing else but a patient thinking, which could at
all distinguish him from other men. He felt that it was no inaccessible superiority on
which he stood, and it was thus that he generously proclaimed it. It is certainly another
imagination that prevails in regard to those who have left the stupendous monuments of
intellect behind them — not that they were differently exercised fix)m the rest of the
species, but that they must have been diflerently gifted. It is their talent, and almost
never their industry, by which they have been thought to signalize themselves; and
seldom is it averted to, how much it is to the strenuous application of those conunonplaoe
faculties which are difiaised among us all, that they are indebted to the glories that now
encircle their remembrance and tlieir name. It is felt to be a vulgarizing of genios that
it should be lighted up by any other way than by a direct inspiration from heaven; and
hence men ha\-e overiooked the steadfastness of purpose, the devotion to some single hnt
great object, the unwcariedness of labour that is given, not in convulsive and preter-
natural throes, but by little and little as the strength of the mind may bear it, the
accnmulation of many small eflbrts, instead of a few grand and gigantic, but perhaps
irregular, movemeuti*, on the part of energies that are marvellous — men have overlooked
these as being indeed the elements to which genius owes the best and the proudest of her
achievements. Thoy caimot think that aught so utterly prosaic as patience, and pains-
taking and resolute industry, have any share in the upholding of a distinction so illus-
trious. These are held to be ignoble attributes never to be found among the demi-gods,
but only among the drudges of literature; and it is certainly true that in scholarship
there are higher and lower walks, but still the very highest of all is a walk of labomv
It In not by mnjr ftmtaatic jugglery^ incomprehensible to ordinary minds, and beyond their
'^ch—jt is not by this that the lieights of pbi\osop\\y ate scaX^wi. ^ ^d he who towers
IXPOBTAHCS OF AFPUCATION TO STUDr. 78
mlMi abore all his feUows; and whether viewed as an exliibition of ids own modcstv. or
H B cnconnigemexit to others, this testimony may be regarded as one of the most iirecioos
k^KM6 that he has bequeathed to the world.
Let me endeavour to guard yon against this most common error of tbe yonthfol
■f^iDation, and into wliich yon are most naturally seduced by the very s])lendour and
a^ffitude of the work that you contemjJate. The " Principia" of Newton, and the
'Ptrainidi o€ Egypt,*^ are both of them most sublime works; and looking to either as a
mgnifioent whole, you have a tike magnificent idea of the noble conception or the one
DD^y power that originated each of them. You reflect not on the gradual and con-
tiaaoa*, and I had almost said creeping, way in which they at length emerged to their
{Rsent jn:eatnes8, so as now to stand forth, one of the stateliest monuments of intellectual,
Muk the other of physical, strength that the world ever mw. You can sw, paljiably
ono^k, how it was by repeated strokes of the chisel, and by a series of muscular efforts,
e*A ofirhich exceeded not the force of a suigle arm, that the architecture wa-M lifted to
the state in wliich, after the lapse of forty centuries, it still remains one of the wonders of
the wcffid; but you see not the secret steps of that process by which the mind of our
amacihle philosojiher was carried npward from one landing-place to another, till it nuthod
tke jii&nacle of that still more wondfous fabric which he himself has consummated. You
hek to it as yon would to a prodigy sprung forth at the bidding of a magician, or at least
<f mit whose powers were as hopelessly above your own, as if all the 8])ells and mysteries
4f nugic were familiar to Iiim. And hence it is that nought could be more kind, and
sareiy nought more emphatically instructive than when he told his brethren of the hp'cies
it waa that his strength lay — that he differed not in power, but only difft*n'd in
*, from themselves; and tliat he luid won that eminence from which he looked down
m the crowd beneath him, not by dint of a heaven-bom inspiration that descended only on
alrv. bat by diut of a home-bred virtue that was within reach of all.
There is much of weighty and niot>t applicable wisdom in the reply given by Dr. Johnson
tit qvestioD put to him by his biographer relative to the business of composition. He
aiked whether, ere one begin, he should wait for the favourable moment, for the ufflatos
vbich is deemed by many to constitute the whole peculiarity of gcuiu.s? "No, ^ir; he
ihonid sit down doggedly," was the deUverance of the great moralist. And be af<.>nn'd,
Ittaksnen, that there is mnch of substantial truth in it. Whether it be con)i>0!<ition, or
taj other exercise of scholarship, I would have you all to sit down doirgedly; for if you
«He bethink joarselves of waiting for the afflatus, the risk is that the afflatus may never
OBc^ Had yoor weekly or your monthly essay not been forthcoming, I should scnrLely
kwe deemed it a satisfactory excuse that you were waiting for the afflatus. With this
^Ktrine ti an afflatus I can figure nothing more delightful than the life of a genius, sjA'ut
n it would be between the dreams of self-complacency and tluji^c of downright indolence.
For I inaumc, that during the intervals between one attack and another of this mysteri«nis
he may be very much at ease, living just as he lists ; and for all his rambles and
abraui having this ready exphmation to offer, that he had no visit this day
fnm bis mnae to drtain him at home. Existence at this rate were one continued holldi^N' \
b« nty twe, gentlemen, that it is not tbe existence by which you ^*iU ever be g;v\\v\eA V^
«(kt iSka^JMjmbgtMBiiMliB tbe Mcquirement of philosoithj. It would be a UCt o£ WVosvow—
a
V74
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
an airy and fantistic day, that should terminate in notldng. . And we again repeat, that
if at all ambitious of a name in scholarship, or what is better far, if ambitious of that
wisdom that can devise aright for the service of, humanity, it is not by the wildly, cren
though it should be the grandly, irregular, march of a wayward and meteoric spirit that
you will ever arrive at it. It is by a slow, but siurer path — by a fixed deTotcdne^.of
aim, and the steadfast prosecution of it — by breaking your day into its hours and its
seasons, aud.then.by a resolute adherence to them; it is not by the random sallies of him
who hves, without a purpose and without a plan — it is by the unwearied regularities of
him who plies the exercise of a self-appointed round, and most strenuously perseveres in
them. It is by these that mental power, I will not say is created, but it is by these that
mental power is both fostered into strength, and made tenfold more etfective than before;
and preoiso, and metlio<.lical, and dull as these habits may be deemed, it is to them that
the world is in<l('l)ted for its best philosophy and its best poetry. — From an Addrest bjf
Dr. Chcdmers to the Students of St. Andrews ; Memoirs^ vol. iii.
KErORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
MUngavie Mfchanics' Institution.— The pre-
sent session of. the al»ove institution was opened
on Monday eveninir, December 1st, with an intro-
ductory lecture by Pruressor Eadie, D.D., LL.D.,
Glasgow. ■ Mr. H. Koss, president of the insti-
tution, occupied the chair, and in a brief a<I(lress
introduced the learned professor, who delivered
a most eloquent and hi^h toned oration on " Man's
connexion with the circle of the sciences." The
lecture was listeneil lo throughout with marked
attention by a crowded audience.
It was truly cheering to recognise and expe-
rience'in 'so eminent a divine a warm frii-nd of
mechanics' institutions ; and from his masculine
recommendation of their liesign and tendency,
we have cxjierienced an iufuhion of new life into
oar instituUon, which is happily in a flourishing
condition. «. The committee have secured the aid
of many talented and respectable gentlemen to
lecture during' the winter,. and tiiere can be no
doubt but 'that these lectures will, in every way,
prove Terycbeneficial and instructive to all who
avail themselves of,t}ie advantages of the insti-
tution. The library belonging to the institution
contains, about^7()0. volumes, among which are
to be founds many of tlie leccnt, popular, and
standard works of our roust celebrated authors in
every department of literature and science. The
terms of membership are such, that it places
within the reach of (he humblest artizan an in-
exhaustible supply, of those mental enjoyments
and benefits, without which life is but tlie shadow
of existence. — H. C, Sec. .
Banli/brt. — Hebdrn Bridge Mutual Impi-rn'r.
mmt Soeirty. — ^Tlie members of- this society hehl
their fourth aunivrrsar)* meeting iu the Wesleyaa
schoolroom, on * Christma>Mlay. Mr. Thomas
Smith occupied thei chair.- The secretary* read
the re])ort, which stated that lecturt's }ia<l been
delivered during thepast>ycar on History. Che-
mJstry, Natund ^ Philusophyt » ■ Phonogmphy,
Sotaav, Ac, axjd Jhc'ussioxtH held on several
Japon&tit aahjects. The woctij^j^ was aflerw ards
addressed by several of the members and ftiends
of the society. . .
The following resolution was adopted at a
committee meeUng held the previoiis night : —
" That the two volumes of the British Contra
venialist be purchased forthwith, and that next
jKar it be taken iu monthly."
Leith Young Men's Society. — The seventh
annual soiree of this society was held in Mr.
Kay's class-rooms, on tlie evening of Friday,
26th ult Mr. George T. M. Inghs, president,
occupie<l the chair, and after tea made a few cz-
cellont remarks on " The literature of the present
day." Mr. Kichard Fotheringham, secretary,
then read the annual report, which showed that
iu the course of the year 121 young nten had
been in connexion with the society ; 30 of these,
however, having resigiied in consequence of re-
moval, fcc.,lelX as the present numbers on the roU,
91 membrrs ; or an increase of 24 over last year's
report. The following aiidresses were afterwards
deliveretl in the course of the evening : — Mr. Jas.
Brown, on "Freedom ;" Mr. George Smith, on
•' The Head and the Heart " ; Mr. NeilJamieson,
on " Motives to action, drawn from the charartn*
of St. Paul " : Mr. David Small, on " Arobidon's
noblest aim." The speakers lUd ample justice
to their subjects, and the company separated at a
late hour, ail highly delighted.
KHwdon Mutual Instruction Society.— In the
rural, although somewhat superior, village of
Kelvedon, situate not far from the centre of £s>
I sex, tliere exists a band of young men, who,
1 althoutrh " far remote " from the excitement of
more mercantile and wcalili-getting districts, have
yet devoted their energies to the cause of the on-
ward progressivene&s of human nature, and are
beginning to make tliemselves Jelt as well as
knntcn. • The outward manifestation of their ope-
rations is a mutual instruction society, where all
the usual a^voiutAges which belong to such so-
cie'iies are made eaaW^* ^ccmv^Ae.. This society
THS niQVIRBR.
75
te IccB m tatatet tor Mv«nl ytan, and per-
of ib nost imarating features it the
vUch annoan^r takea plaee, not only- of
^M^hto ait in the management of the aociety,
'fl"^^ ia ill advantages, but alio of those
VMM od k«ar and know what it is doing, or
B*^ <«ae— ffpeetaton ftom withoot, who ooroe
^ taaff tfaeirapiiffoval of die obiecU aought, and
*«>te adopied fertheir attunment One of
^ pifacriDgi took place on the evening of the
^w- The proeeedings oommeneed by about
KtCEtfprnonssttiingdowntotea. This orer, the
a^BiBidiato bonness of the evening was pro-
'«M»Bh. Mr. C. Walford. jun., of Withom,
^^mkd to preside, and on taking the chair
taiieaed the meeling, remuking mora especiallv
'^^TragreaiTeneH of the age— the increased,
& fsoMmily increasing, facilities for the ao-
^("xaat of knowledge. Sdiools and institu-
*» wre BOW everywhere to be found. Lite-
KiR «u extending Itself at a rate hitherto
^^i«ni«nted, addressing itaelf alike to the cot-
V? aad the palaee. Soenoe was equally pro-
coBte and unboonded. No ;irevious i^ had
>Med nch advantages. The grand point
^<n^ to be reoMmbered was, that with these
^^^Meed advantages eaine an increased respon-
^^^ far their proper use in furthering the
P^H" of hemanx^. Mr. Wm. Braddy, the
'^gt*y.ie«d a salis&eSory report of the society's
^^iwfiniP during the past year. Mr. Qodfrey
"» Mr. Crane severally moved and seconded the
?'"*''« of the report. Messrs. J. Moss, J.
a^om, sod W. Br«ddy, delivered eloquent
^^' The following gentlemen also ad-
^'i^ UMmselvcs to a series of animated reso-
;^f»« jmnred by the committee :— Messrs
neb. Wsl&rd,* sen., WiUshire, W. Braddy, and
'uohewK The whole of the speakers appeared
*^»sed by one common object, that of promot*
3r tbe otjcets of the society, and extending iu
-'*Qia|tts. Some excellent recitations were
^ by several of • the gentlemen present.
*J^ picasing feature was tbe number of ladies
J?^ f ^ seemed fully to join in the spirit of
« aitt^. ^0 irjajj ^e society many of such
^'^^ pthoiags.
OUugow Tcuma Mtn'9 LUeraty Imprwemetut
Society. — Mr. Editor,— Circumstances of astricdy
private nature having brought us to Glasgow, and
this fhet having become known to the membersrof
the Glasgow Toomo Men's Literaby .Im-
PBOVRMKMT SOCIETY, WO received the honour of
a kindly invitation to a soiree held in Lennox's
Temperance Coflbe-house, in that city, by i the
members of that society, on the evening of the
14th November, 1851. Mr. Donald Mills occo.
pied the chair, and in an excellent apeech took •
rapid glance at ** things as they were, are, and
ought to be." The company then proceeded to
take tea, and a few. other substantialities whidk
accompanied it. The chairman again addressed
the meeting on "the advantages of knowledge."
Mr. A. Forsan spoke upon the *' Tendency of
Mutual Improvement Societies." Mr. - Robert
Paton, " On the cultivation of the mind." -Mr.
Robert Scott very gallantly complimented "The
Ladies." *'£ducauon"-was treated of by>Mr.
Alexander Thomson ; and Mr. Duncan West took
a survey of " The- characteristics of the last half
century." These addresses generally . displayed
marks of careful study and considerable liteimry
power. (Did your 'space 'afford it, you might
introduce the following critical remarks. *) Sing-
ing, recitations,' and mstramental music, were
excellently intersperse with the addresses, and
" all went merry as a marriage bell."**- Towards
the close of the evening we were unexpectedly
called upon to address the members, and made ft
few remarks npon>*' Self-Duties." The meeting
was most harmonious, and from the report of
progress whidi was read at the meeting, thia
societv appears to be most suecesshilly eon-
duciea. 'f — ^The Autuob of " The A&t of
Reasonino."
* We think it unadvisable to do so, not only on
account of want of space, but also of the delicate
nature of some of the remarks made by our able
correspondent
-f The lengthy though valuable remarks with
which this notice finishes we have been obliged
to retrench, but shall reserve them for use on a
future occasion. — ^Ed. B. C.
^|b 3tti|iim
<tt58n0X8 REQUIRING ANSWERS.
J*^ Suppose 1. bequeathed to B. an annuity for
f' •^ B. i$ uill Kvinff, is it grammadcal in
*^«a? mdi a rircumstanee to say that " A.
*f^hed the annuity to*B. as long as he ahovid
' V A^t *^* it to be '* as long as he shall live ?"
-f^Leoaie's Grammar: Syntax, rule ft.
Jf«a, Leimie says. " Sentences 'that imply
;'^^i^^wai futurity require' the subjunctive
rnL^ t^ »b€n continjtency. and '/u/nri/y are
^m imptinl.the indicative ought to be used."
^^I^ rule 10.* Now, there is scarcely a.day
'^^ ' ffleet irith sentenee^t which app^r to
j^^^fbe irrecofncileablc to' thiV rule, jf I' should
|;^*"MmQch obliged eitlierb^'you o^'onc\)f
] ,,*"'"*poivdfnts informing roe wlietheror'not
\;:ynkmi the rule ?*Bpfererfocs*« Cennie's
'•••*«pi«feTreJ.-H. H.F.
79. Will " Vinclum " inform a constsnt reader
of the BriH$h Contrcversiaiitt how he may
obtain the sermon referred to in the first negative
article on HomoQopathy.'also the price 7
80. As I am desirous of flrainmg.a practical
knowledge of the science of Phrenology, perhaps
some one of your kind correspondetits will inform
me how I should pursue its study, and what books
I should obtain.^ I love^the science, and wish to
persevere in^studying^it. — G* G. . , \^ \ .c, ^
81.^ Without "wishing" to re-opi'n the discussion
of the^ question* respecting .the; Trinity,' I,. would
direct 'attention, to Uhati passage) in*the' negative
reply on'poge^456^(T^..II.),commeutiiig with
line t27.^first'column7* and ►.would'* res noctftillv
verance from bis infirm humanity, does not such
76
THB UQUIREB.
aecensity imply, not oiily a dependence on a
Superior Being, but a recognition uf that Being'ft
mil as independent to his own? It' «o, there i»
an aflmission, not merely of the Father's inde-
pendent and superior will and power, hut no
attempt to claim the title to the Godheail. For
God in his inmost essence or being is a unit, and
can have but one mfinite will, and as his esse
is the only life in itself, and he cannot tlieretore
delegate that only liTe to another — he cannot gi\e
away himself! — Kidof.r.
82. Can any of your experienced correspon-
dents iioint out to tne the best method of acciuiring
a knowledge of the principlfs of conveyancing ?
— Orion.
83. Will you, or any of your correspondents,
be goo<l enough to inftirro me.through tlie medium
of your excf llt-nt periodical, what is the pmbable
amount of gold, in sovereigns and half soi ereivn?',
at present in circulation throughout tne L'ltiivii
Kingdom of Great Drilahi and Ireland, irresiiec-
tive of what may be held at the Bank of England ?
The question being in dispute, an answer in an
early number will oblige. — W. T.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIOXS.
71. The FabM Hebrew Wanderer.— Byron
doubtless reiers in tiie lines quoted to the fabled
AbasucruN, who is tlius descritied iu a German
fragment preserved by Kbelley: — "Aliasucnis,
the Jew, (Tejit forth from the dark cave of Mount
Cannel. Near two tliousand years have elapsed
Mince he wa<} iirAt goaded, by never-ending rest-
lessness, to roam the globe from i>ole to pole.
When OUT Loni was wearied with tlie burden of
bis ponderous cross, and wanted to rei«t before t}ie
door uf Abasuenui, tJie uiileehng wretch drove
him away with brutality. The Saviour of man-
kind staggered, sinking under the heavy load, but
uttered no complaint. An angel of deatii appeared
before Ahasuerus, and exclaimed indignantly.
' Barbarian ! thuu hast denietl rest to the Son of
man ; be it denied thee also, initil he comes to
Judge the world.' A black demon, let loose Ironi
lull upon Ahasucrus, goads him down irom
countiy to rouniry: he is «lfiiied ihe consolution
wliioh death aft'urdH, and precluded frum the rest
of the peaceful grave.
" Ahatuerus cjept forth frcrtn the dark cave of
Mount Cannel — he shook the duHtfrcni hw biaid
— and lakiiiu up one of the skulls lieM|ird there,
hurled it duwn the eminence : it n!l>ounded from
tite earth in shivered atums. ' Ihis was my
father ! ' roared Ahasuerus. Seven n)ore skulls
rolled down from rock to rock, while the inluiiate
Jew, folluwing them with ghantly looks, exeliiim-
ed, 'And tljcsc wen: my wives! ' lie still con-
tinued to hurl duwn skull after skull, luaring in
drcaiU\il accents. ' And tliese, ami the»e. and the.se
Wen; my children ! They ctmld die; but 1 1 re-
jtrt'ba'e wretch ! alas I I cannot die ! Dreadful
beytmd conception is the judgment that hangs
ovrr me. Jetusalem fell— I crushed tlte sucking
bahe. ]irecipilated mysflf into the destrueiivv
flume*. I cursed tl.e Komans, but alas! alas!
the restless curse held me by ilie hair, and I could
not die! Rome, the giuntesn, fell — I placed my-
self before the falling slatue— she fell, and did nut
citL'«h me. Nations sprung up and disupi-eared
before me ; but I remained and did not die. Fran
cloud-encii-cled cliflk did I precipitate myself into
tlie ocean, but the foaming billova cast me upon
the shore, and tlie burning anow of eaiatcnce
pierced ray cold heart again. I leaped into Etna's
flaming abysa, and roared with the giants tor ten
long monihs, |iollutingwithmy groans the moant's
sulphureous mouth— ah ! ten lung mouthB. Tbe
volcano lermented, and in a iiery stream of lavm
cast me up. I lay torn by the torture snakes of
hell, umid the gloaing cinders, and yet continued
to exisL A forest was on hre : 1 darted, on wings
of fury and despair, into the craokbng wood.
Fire dropt upon me from Uie trees, but the flaaws
only singed my limbs ; alas ! it could not con-
sume them. I now mixed with the tMitchers of
mankind, and plunged in Uie tempest of the
raging battle. I roared defiance to the infkirialed
Gaul, defiance to the victorious German, b«it
arrows and si>ear rebounded in sliivers Arom ray
body. 7 he Saracen's flaming sword broke iqMm
my skull : balls in vain hissed upon me : tbs
lightning of battle glared fiuriously around my
loins ; in vain did the elephant trample on me, in
vam the in)n hoot of the wrathful ateed ! The
mine, big with destructive |K)wer, burst upon me,
and hurled me high in the air — 1 fell on heaps of
smoking limbi^ut was only singed. The giant's
steel club rebounded from my body ; the exerU'
tioner s hand could not straitgle me, the tiger's
toiHli could not pierce nie, nor could the Longry
lion in tiie circus devour mc. * * * I now
piovoked the fury of t) rants: I said to Nero,
Thou art a bloodhound ! I said to Christnni,
Thuu art a bloodhound ! I said to Muley Isk>
mael, Thou art a bloodhound ! The tyraoli
invented cruel torntents, but did not kiU mr.
Ha! not to be able to die— not to be able to die!
Not to be i»ermiueil to rest alter the toils of life—
to be doomed to be impri.<>oned Ibr ever in this
day-formed dungeon — to be tor ever dogged wiik
this wortljle»B body, its load of dis(^a»es iaud infii^
mities — to be coi<dtmncd to hold lor millenuiams
that yawning monster Sameness, and Time, that
hungry hyena, e-ver bearing children, and ever ^m-
vouiing her ofllitpriug ! 11a ! — not to be penmlted
to die ! Awiul avenger in heaven, liaat thon in
thine armoury of wmth a punivhmeut more dread-
ful 't then let it thumiur u]>un nie, command a
liurrienne to sHeep me down to the foot of Car>
mel, that I may there lie exlendtd ; may i>ant,aud
writhe, and die ! ' " — A. C.
71. Hotv to study Em lid. — We will not under-
take to iniorm C. M. what is the brut method of
stuilyinc Euclid, but only suggest whnt we oon-
ceive to be an tjfectiif method.
1. He should make himself familiar with the
deiinilions.
a. Commit to memory every proposition as he
arrives at it, in order tliat he may be able, withooK
the aid of the book, to ieiM*at it iu support of any
subM'queiit one.
3. He must not rest satisfied tmtil he can draw
the diagram upon a black board, and dempnstrate
the proposition to which he has come without the
aid ot the lK>ok. Unless he is able to do this, ho
will never eflectively understand Kiidid. — G. BT.
7U. FatiUty in Comptuition.— la answer to
JI. T. M.. we do not think that translating lan-
guages, of which you say ^ou know but little,
woiild be a read^ means of improving >ou in the
art of compo-ition; (or in traiuiJating, iill ines-
THE INQUIBKIL
77
iad their atteniion so concen-
eatakvoun to fEraiiple witli the
bdr author, that they fteuemlly
■rd to their owu diction. We
WDV more deaiitible luethods.
■ tune aud pains bestowed in
• tha thoughtM of other men, hv
ling their oratioun, mot well
i aagr. in jtreference, if yuu have
▼•aUention to the expreasiiiu of
' elothini? them in difffrent lan-
.xda aehrclinff and aiUiptiug tlie
r, and thtfrefure ibe hett. We
miive reading uf iKime of our
b« attended with Rrt^at advaii-
for ni)tinf{ down their ideas as
•fterwartts entleavouring to
vote, is f^oiKi exi>rrise. You
ady conversont with the jdiui
luJuin (who succeeded in nearly
ertook) ; if you are u'^t, it may
I hnow, and if yon are, it may
others. In his genuine auto-
c which may be obtained for a
I J be naJ by every young man)
n his eaily days, baring fallen
•veray with a Iriend, he spe<^diiy
'i**ncy of style, and detennined
tlien pi'uctcdsi tu say : " About
with an odd volimte of the
never bifore seen any of thtm.
t over and (»ver, and was murh
I ihou^t tlie writing excrl.
if )K>s9ible, (o imitate it. With
mte of the papers, and making
t seniimriits in each sentence.
' days, and then, without look-
tried to complete tJie papers
ling each limiteil ^entiment at
illy as it had been expressed
able wrmls that should occur to
•niMred my Sfiectutor to the
*tl some of my faylts, and ror-
t aftemard.-* took Moroe of the
*ectator, and turned them iniu
to increase his stock of Kords ;
, when 'lie ba«l pretty well for-
, liimed (hem back Rirain."
(orself. hs't also a desire to
of aystematirally ammving hi«
»v, sometimes jotted down his
m, and aOer (iome weeks eiidf-a-
liem into the be}>t order brfun^
he ftill sentences, and complete
I, by comparing his work w ilh
ieovered, he sayR. many fault.x.
m; but he sometimc^s had tlif
f, that in certain particulars ol
'. he hail been fortunate rnou^li
efhod of the lanifiiage." This
and witli what Huccess bin
arded, the sin^ilnr cleurneMs
r his st>le atl'or.ls abmidant
ralul practice in any vt the
awFated, you may make con-
in jonr poa'cr of composition
if thoughts. Do imt cx)>ect to
Mroa at first. Tluit which is
iDjr a little difficult of atuuii-
ha Itstimony of many of our
tUa role fully applii-s'to com-
r, in lua eorreapondence with
Sir James Mackintosh, aaya, ** A stole which ia
truly good, must always, more or leaa, be the
result of eflbrt aud art. Dr. Johnson ezpieased
himself equally dear—" What we hope ever to do
with ease, we must first leara to do with dili-
gence." Young has immortalized in poetry his
conviction of the same truth : —
** Write and rc-wrlte, blot ont, and write again.
And for its swiAiiess ne'er applaud your pen.
• • • •
Time only can mature the lab'ring hxain :
Time is the father, and the midwito paiu."
We could adduce many other similar testi-
monies were it necessary ; but first reflect u|»ou
what we have already said. You will find this
maKaziue a ready medium for obtaining further
aMhistance; and us you progress, you may,
through its pages, sjieak to the worI(C We bid
you Godspeetl, and ask you to reflect upon the
words of a living autiior: — " How senseless must
ap)H-ar all efforts at excellence which are not made
in the .spirit of laborious application." — C. W., Jun.
The tiun^laiion Irum on** language into ano-
ther is an excellent method ot obtaining a know-
ledge of words, aud the faculty of copiousness or
\anety of expression. Caielul, very careful stutiy
ot llie classical works of our own language will
also in time ensure the earnest student elegance
and pixiprii-ty of expreb.sion. But it is not in
much tntiing nor in umchrradin^.tbatH.T.M.'s
chief ho|)e of success lies, but rather in much
thinkhiy ; and iherefore we would ncommcnd
him to dipnt what he reads, never to lay a book
aside until its whole meaning is understood. Of
course we speak only of such works aa will repay
tliis concentration of the mental powen, others
are better left alone. Keuders ol this magazine
will find it an excellent employment to peruse
carduUy all the articles, affirmative and negative,
upon any one of the many subjects here debated;
and, having taken note of the omissions, mis-
RiatementN, &c., upon each side, to write articlea
erabiKiying their own views of the matter. The
works ot ShaksiKiure will afford boundlesis ecope
lor the exercise of the ihoughUuI mind. Let the
btudcnt take up the best of his plays one by one,
and study thtm in the thorough manner hen*
indicated — levivifying those old historical chorac-
terx once more, and sJiaring witli them those soul-
Kiirring scenes, not as they ant rrprexetttai on
the pitiful stage, biU a.s tiiey « ere— analyzing
tlieir aetfc, and judging of their hitentiuns— and
tlien let him write a critique npon them. Such
essays as the.se will show U.T.M. where he iA
deficient, und also teach him how to remedy his
deleetH. We have not siM>k( n of the great utility
of corresponden«*e, nor of many other means of
obtaininK the object of his arab'.iion. We hove
simply dhadowi'd forth one or two, and will leava
inni, like the alohyinist, to turn to gold whatever
o]iii(iituniiie8 of iiiiprovement he may meet with
while engaged in the attainment of his wishes.
Practice — y^s, iiersevering pruciice — that ia the
scent of it all!— S. M. F.
78. Grautwar. — In an.«wer to the fir^t qneaUon,
the strnitnce should read— "A. ha* bequeathed
the HUiiuity to B. so lung us he shall live."
Willi regard to the bulijuntlivc, or alliptieal
fonn of Uic vpi b, we are no great advocatea lor its
continuance in writing; more so aa few who thua
78
THE YOUNG STUDENT AND AVRITER 8 ASSISTANT.
use it would have the hardihood to do so when
tpeaking. In the instances cited it is decidedly
incorrect. The word " if" comes from the Saxon
**g\fi' flrom which also our present verb, glvty
and givtn't and is synonymous with the latter ;
hence the sentences quoted would, if rendered
properly, read so — " Oivtn that such i» the
character of this historian," &c. — *^ Granted that"
ice. Af^n, " Given that the assertion is true," —
*' Granted that"— "Acknowledge that,"— "Admit
that it 'is," or simply, — "Grant that »uch is the
case," then will such another circumstance take
place, or he added.
When speaking of Aiture contingent events it
were (would be) better to use the proper auxiliaries,
as — " If it shmtld rain to-night, we shall not go
home ;" not ** If it rain to-night," &c.
If H. H. F. look, or toill look, a little above his
quotation from 8e<;t 2, col. 1, p. 459, he tcill find
this sentence : — " If Justitia means that the'par-
liament was first to appeal to arms, I deny it."
Let him place the first-quoted sentence from this
writer by the side of it, and he will find them to
disagree, because " can expect" is in die present
tense, as well as ** deny " in the last.
We would advise our correspondent to pot
" Lennie " on the shelf a little, as we have done,
and take to " Connon " and " L«than." We used
" Lennie " while in small clothes, but we wanted
tueks to let down when we grew a little, but could
not get them from the short-kilted Scotchman.
H. H. F. will not accuse us of know^ig nothing
of Lennie's works for saying this, when we tell
him we used it for some years constantly; and
consider it not the worst text book for rules in the
language, but there is nothing of the philosophy
of language to be found in it— no reasons given;
it is simply a book of technicalities, to he swal-
lowed whole, and digested at leisure.
Perhaps H. H. F. for the ftiture will give not
only column and page, but section and line ; it
will save much trouble. — E. B.
€lit ^^nttng Ittthnt nnlt WxiUfB Sssistiral
LOGIC CLASS.
Exercise on the Art of Reasoning. — No. XII.
1. What is meant by "the doctrine of the Syl-
logism 7 "
2. Point out the difference between Language
and Logic.
4. Enumerate the classes into which Objec-
tivities may be arranged, and give illustrations of
them?
• 5. What is a Syllogism, of how many parts does
it consist, and how are these parts designated?
Give illustrations.
6. Point out the difference between knowledge
and reasoning, and state what would be man's
condition without the power of reasoning.
GRAMMAR CLASS.
Design of Class.
This class has been established with the design
of assisting young men and others to a knowledge
of the English language.
The plan which it is proposed to adopt is : —
1st To furnish from time to time a succession
of exercises, to be written by our students.
2nd. To receive and acknowledge the written
exercises, taking care to note the success of
each.
3rd. To keep a regular account of the progress
made throughout the year, at the end of whidi
the teacher will award certificates of merit to tho
ten most successful students.
Exercises in Grammar. — No. I.
1. Make out a form like that given below, Mid
arrange the words of the following sentences in
columns : placing the words of the same part of
speech in the same column : —
PARTS OF SPEECH.
Inflected.
Noun.
Adjective. Pronoun. Verb.
Practice in parsing will in time produce per-
fection. • If you practise parking you will in time
become perfect. The young man had many
friends,' but, alas ! he heeded not their counsel
That humaue person leaped courageously into
/Ae stream, bat, aiasi he was almost drowned.
^uead diligently to your bnsinesB and your busi-
IZliJ^'iL'^Iiy ^'"*' "^ '°/ •on," says an
^^rabjc proverb, " take care that your mouth
Unimflbcted.
Adverb. Preposition. Interjection. Coi^unction.
breaks not your neck." The results df deep
research or extravagant speculation, seldom pro-
voke hostility when meekly announced as tho
deductions of reason or the convictions of con-
science. As the dreams of a recluse they may
excite pity or call forth contempt ; but, like seeds
quietly cast into the earth, they will rot or nr-
minale accordmg V> \iv% x\\«l\\.^ with which they
I art endowed. Bu^Vt xiew «sm\ f^aI:C&n1^vs^<Q(ua
jmmqr dT ikab- pnvaudoa: and IherkR lykt
te (Hi jfiliiiirl Id iIm burnDHia, wbkh onlf
XATHEX&TICAL CLASS.
QUZSTiOKs FOK saLnTioK.— II.
i.TtnekOTi.md IS. ]4.md 13,i«>p«tivelf,
not iiMiiii.iiiil found 126 nuu in ■!), vhiFhIbcjr
nd IB All. anil imi u rmpir tt. ir ii bt
IT.>'a. I ■!«» will ail itiniti houn.or Ko.
HH Ik ite baun. When full. Kd. :! alDne
h £33^10 l> ilvmuiedu
3. Tli« divDctCT af ■ iplierleaJ pl«« of iraodit
tocbn. Bmuirtd Ihe lids of ih« luFneii tube
uttn be mule out of it; uid ui eijiluiUiDii of
ig IVwIt UinuKli
10 aUDOiitbcre being lu
JJntins if Snnta.
. . jF A/' Doiwiiir VrdictiK u^ contdomneH. inch men nn lete, Ar ]eei, (o b
BmKluU awrterv. Br Spenm ThompioD jilliad. Ihui tbey iho bave rlaen u ■nslUi u|»
M.D., L.B.C.a. loDiion: GroombrWgf HI iheruis. irfUiriririmuiioo, No m-n an be ui
iomt^aOBt "the hom* we L.e In,' aiias, Ita T''''^'' effurt* tin oio.l iMjon^lo hope of .new.
W*7, wd br iU> nuoa oe nwimmind it. re^"u'ow M Hie^clu'iTor" 1. "
I. Co«tfw(J«n, and Elwnitu o "If '■ •'" Rranled joii, U jour o.n tip™.
u n uwnbly "j,'^;;'"'?^'^'"^ imbiiSm would be ihu. plutvJ wiUiin your reuth.
^, iitbatwbicb i* ecuullr proiKPHd to vnnbviba
hni.b]rttae EnqHTOr Chiriei Ihe Fifth oFQei hibluil iguilitie* or diopoiidous of ifae mind,
B lb Mlovtnv me ud Dipnenlmoui mu end dlitln^ili Uii-ir pa««ur fnini DLher men.
•rr:~- SevvyUns u l«t, hil my kaiunir,' 1 The word cliiruler [■ therefore eipreulve of ■
■B. SiaiUi la [hi* hu bnn Uk ndntlon nn Ihe lltenry. tcituliflc, taeroic. uid verr manf
*>niBB of Ibelr fannnei, thetr proijiect). in qiullIiei.rurlbiiulbcmniuinEaf Ibeeipnuim,
*v kip«, ha« aiped m<nr their Run. 4n 'He bn Ion hiK cliirulrr.' In lli\e ubk -«•
■ta.»ii»lTriida(i JDtlmion.di™>Dnam"J[n[iwi[. conjAfcr il in Ihe present iBcture, ta inaiwft^e ot
*« ttilr •»*»««»«, i«»T> MM VAnw/Mi uom/nndrrlidioii. liHbiu.
nja.K *.■ mf ettmnr: •na wia ibmt "irourdracripiioiibecorwrtUmiteomilittol
80
KOTICES OF BOOKS.
prevailing and habitual qualititm or dispokiiiuns —
tben, ot course, a mere occasional act, liowever
upleudid an intitauce of good conduct it may be,
does not constitute obaracter — even tbou{(h it '
ftliould be also repealed occasionally at long in-
tcrvalts. A mist- r, lor instance, may, uiidrr some
very peculiar circumstances, be induced to |)er-
furm on act of even munificent liberality, but it is
not his character to be liberal. Aci^ are some-
times done by men so unlike tbeir prevailing dis-
]*osition, that v>e oi-e astonished at them as phe-
nomena which exceedingly perplex us when we
make inquiry into tbeir cause. Even good men,
under the power of temptation, occasionally do
things which are very unlike themselves, and
< ontrary to their character, which, however, still
.survives the shock of tlieite aberrations. General
uniformity, consistency, and perseverance in
trood conduct, then, are essential to character.
We have known cases in which some sin^ile acts
of a bad man, have, to ull outward appearance,
excelled in magnitude and splendour, auy of the
hinele acts of a good one — ^but the former wa.s only
n diseased and spasmodic virtue, which exhausted
at once all the strength of the actor ; while the ;
latter was the continue4l and natural action of
>ound healtii : or to cliange the metaphor — the
one was the rate but impoMng splendour of the
oomet or the meteor, whiuii n]t))ears but iur u little
while and then vanishes uway ; while the other is
the steady, continuous, and directive, thou^^h it
may be less imposing, light of the pule-stiu*. A
titful virtue is of little value, and yet it is ail that
some men hu\ e, n ho mav nut be totally abandoned
to bad habits. Their mind.^ seem to l>e ever in an
intermittent fever, in wliich their cold and hot fits
are in constant altematiun.
"Having, then, endeavoured to show what we
mean by character, and what kind of character we
intend in this lecttire, we proceed, —
*' To speak of its foukdai ion. Tliis word is
suggestive. The foundation of a building is laid
in the earth. How much labour is bestowed in
digging and throwing out the soil, and getting a
trench reatiy to receive tlie materials which are
to compose the fabric! Uow much material is
lodged out of sight, that is totally forgotten by the
ignorant observers of tlie structure ? Who, for
instance, in pasfdng St. Paul's Cathcdnil, and
admiring its lofty dome and gilded crosis, dreams
of the masses of stone on which the whole rests,
and without which the building must soon have
been a heap of ruins 7 Yet there is the founda-
tion, vast and deep, though buried, hidden, and
nearly forgotten. 80 must it be ^ ith character.
The foundation must be laid in the mind, and
heart, and conscience, and memory. I'here must
be a digging into the soul — a throwing out of
much that is in the way of what must be intro-
duced— a making room for much material to be
laid Uiere — and a careful and laborious deposit of
a suitable substratum. Something strong, broad,
firm, must be buried and hidden m the soul. A
lofty superstructure of character can no more be
raised, which shall stand and be permanent, with-
out this, than a towering building can be a i>er-
manent one. that is erected upon the surface of
the groimd, and not brneatk it. The soul — not
m it!<i intellectual aspect and rapacity merely, but
in its moral and immortal one; the soul viith it*
aflections, passions, and propensities ; the soul as
the seat of will and conscience ; the soul as the
groimd in which the basis of character is kdd ;
must be the subject of serious consideration.
Many men carry about their minds with less soli,
citude than they do their watches : knowing and
caring abnost as little of the faculties and powers
of the one as they do of the mechanism of the
utlier. This must not be with those who would
form a good character.
" Of what materials then must the foundation
of character be formeti ? What are the mighty
and granite stones which must be deposited, for
a character tliat is to stand for eternity i* Science 7
Liieratiuie ? 'I'he arts ? No. These may do tor
the intellectual, but not for the moral charader.
It is Pbinciflk, Muual I'&inciplb. Mtwal
character caimot rest on astronomy, geolc^,
chemistry, electricity, magnetism. These thiDga
are admirable, useful, noble, sublime : but they oan
no more do for tlie basis of cltaracter, tlian jewelry,
or diamonds, or Uie telescope, or the galvanie
battery, or the magnet, would do for the founda-
tion of a pyramid or a temple. By principle I
mean not opinions only, but con vici ions : not
speculative theories on moials, but practical con-
clusions : not sentiments lloating in the judgment,
but rooted in the heart. To attempt to form a
character without established principles, is like
erecting a building witliout a foundation.
• * • • 9
" There are decorations of character to be studied
and aciiuired. To advert again to the constructicHi
of a building, it may l>e matle of substantial
matcriais, and may have many good ruoms, and
answer well cnou);h the puq^ose of a iiabilation,
but all tlie while it may have a barn-like appear-
ance. There arc none of tlie tasteful ornaments
of architecture — no Ionic grace — no Corinthian
elegance, nor even Doric chasteness. Or to refer
to the human form, tltere may be symmetry,
strength, even beauty, but the beai-intc may be low
and vu]gar,t)ie manners repulsive, and the address
unprepossessing. Is it not sometimes thus with
character 7 There may be the possession of ster-
ling intepity, and great moral woith; in short,
all tiiH things that ore true, and honest, and inire,
and just; but not the tilings that are lovely.
There is wanting the amiable temper, the cour-
teous address, the attraction of kinuneas. It is a
fine body in an uncomely dres» ; it is a lomp of
gold, but amoriihous and unbuminbed ; it is a
diamond not cut and flashing with ail the hues
of the rainbow, but dull and covere*! unfa oil its
earthly encrustations. Character is the bctft thin|f
on earth; why not then invest it with all the
charms of aliich it is susceptible, and ourapel
men to love and admire it as they do a jewel ;
both for its own sake, and fur the soke of it» besu-
tifiil setting also. The character of eveiy aan,
far more than his wealth, is public property — and
should be so exhibitei 1 as not only to attract atten-
tion, but to excite admiratiou and* emulation. We
must endeavour to nu^e virtue loved as well as
esteemed.*'
We had marked other passages for extracts,
but space forbids us giving them on the pres^at
occasion : the above will be suflicient to indicate
the ini])ortant chanicter of the lecture, and the
imi>rt:skivL- style of its author.
lljirtorit.
BY TIIE AUTHOB OF "tHE ART OF BEASONINO.**
Xo. IIL — THE PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE.
br our last paper we endcaTourcd to show that the wondrons system of thought-symbols
wlneh ve ^VMninate Language^ and which is to us at once the interpreter and embalmer
«f wr ideas, is the result of a conjoint exertion of celestial and humanitarian agencies —
tlat it springs forth from the human soul as gradually and mysteriously, yet as surely
sod latsnlhr, as a flower, in fitting circumstances, is developed from its germ-origin — and
that
** Man's soul the Almighty to the ftitore set
B7 secret and inviolable springs."
*^ Thought is quick." Consciousness is continually impressible, and the soul is unceasingly
Toj^ing into new regions of inquiry, and is constantly engaged in surveying provinces of
Kstore wluch have been hitherto unexplored. Farther, deeper, higher, man's adventurous
split ftweeds, his knowledge-thirst is unquenchable, his excitable intellect is unresting.
fa Ant ercnnioDs of the mratality— in this exodus of the " inquiring spirit** — new modes
«f being are discovered, fresh acquisitions of knowledge arc made, strange appearances
mirrored in the mind, and novel conceptions are originated in it. Language
the custodier of such information. Thought is the bullion of the intellect, and
vwdf are the conventional paper cuiVency which represents it.
** Each giving each a double chann,
Like pearls upou an Etbiop's arm."
Siiaoge that words — the mere vibrations of that " thin air ** which is the veiy image of
tnantoriness, should be the media of communicating that durable, yea, eternal, reality —
Tkoogfat, and that these faint impulsions on the atmospheric enwrapment of the earth
dhndd be emblematic of the idea-products of our " inner life.** But " it is not words
«iv that are emblematic'* Everything in existence speaks to the cultured intellect.
WWwdl traly observes, " Bfan is the inUrpreter of Nature; not the spectator merely, but
tkiaterpnter. The study of the Language, as well as the mere sight of the characters,
B TfiiiMff, in order that we may read the inscriptions which are written on the face of
Atnerid." It is in striving to decipher these inscriptions, and to read off their teachings,
tht men of seieooe art continually employed. Before, however, this dead Language of
Stfnre can be understood by all, it requires to be translated into the lexicography of
>BUBaidtj, and henoe these representative embodiments of thought — words. It is true that
tU impcrfectioD of oar knowledge may cause us to translate inefficiently, as the terms
"mtiees** and ** Yacnnm" demonstrate; but Nature still continues to teach us by means
tf \ts o«B God-fiwn though inarticulate Language. With our mental growth, howover,
(^ idafity of owr ^xcndering " Increases, and our knowledge of the context enablii as to
H
82 RHETORIC. — NO. III.
attach more accurate verbalisms to the exposition of what is written in the creation-
phenomena around us. If Lanj^age is a collection of idea- emblems, the copiousness of
Language will be in a ratio with the multiplicity of ideas poss^sed by a people. The
want of a word could not be felt till a thought demanded expresbion for which man had
no cognomen; or if words existed prior tb the eduction of thoughts, then we should have
the incongruous difficulty of having many signs previous to possessing a capacity to apply
them properly to denote our newly-developed ideas. All Languages, therefore, must have
been, in their earlier stages, scanty. As our ideas became more numerous, words would
become more copious. As we became more accurately acquainted with the relations of
objectivities, Language would become more complicated. " Because of tliis radicai
correspondence between visible things and human thoughts, savages, who have only what
is necessary, converse in figures. As we go back in history. Language becomes noore
picturesque until its infiincy, when all is poetry, or all spiritual facts are represented by
natural symbols. The same symbols are found to make the original elements of all Lan-
guage;" * for the organs of speech and of hearing are very nearly similar in their structure
in all men — the same laws govern their understandings, and control the formation of their
ideas — the purposes for which speech b employed are nearly alike in all, and the objectivities
around them have a very considerable amount of resemblance; while at the same time it
should be observed, that wherever natural phenomena or products, and social habits or
instruments, differ in one country from those of another, the words significant of these
phenomena, products, habits, or instruments, are always imported from the language of
that other country, e.g.^ Simoom, geyser, llanos, &c.; ennui, roue, iucivism, sans-culottey
suttee, gong, soiree, slick, gutta percha, caoutchouc, &c. Each new discovery in science,
each new phase of social existence, each new educt of human ingenuity, each new process
of thought, each new jiractical art, each new relation of objects, requires either the inven-
tion of a new name, or else a new application of an old one ; and hence, too, we deduce the
inference, that no sooner is a new thought implanted in tJte mind^ tfian it germinates into a
name.^
Little evidence corroborative of the accuracy of this inference can be expected from
• Eroeraon's " Katore " p. 18.
f Ukutrations of the accuracy of this infereuce may be found in tlie words employed to denote majr
ditoovery, invention, or custom, e.y., Iu>morphitm—tL term rendered necesMry by the discoverie* ot
Guy Losftao and Mitscherlich, as a aign of the fact that some bodies possess the quality of aaauminjr
the same crystallic fom, though composed of different proximate elements, yet with the same number
of equivalents. Bilohate — a botanical designation for a leaf which is divided into two parts by a
notch. JIf omenlum— the symbol, lo the scientific intellect, of that quantity of motion in a body wlbleh
is always equal to the quantity of matter multiplied into lu velucity. Barowuter—^n instmmiDt
for measuring the weight of the atmosphere. Tariff— b. term well known in commercial and politkal
society as denoting a fixed rate of duty levied upon imports. Tarifa is the name of a promontoiy in
the south of Spain, which, running into the Straits of Gibraltar, was in olden times employed by the
Moors as a watch point of the Mediterranean Sea, flrom whieh, as any merchant vessel entered or
passed out, they issued, and enforced a definite proportion of the cargo, according to the amouai and
kind of goods with which the vessel was laden. Aututittt which is derived fh>m the Arabic words
AAa^A-tAasA, a smoker or eater of hemp ; by this smoking or eating, intoxication is produced. During
tA0 Cruamdm some Anhian eoldien were in the habit of adminlstieriog these intoxicating drugs, in
^'**' ^ fteultw tbeir mtmaiee inseoaible, so that tbey toijgixi the vkota mj^^ «Mke^ihina^»\s ^detims ■
RRICTORIC. — ^sio. in. 83
hiitonc aniMb. Tbe want of written records — the tll-«l>8ort>ing influence which pressing
viaU and aeoeautics, new drcamstances and occupations, most have exerted — the novelty,
iBjdelT, and nnoertaiot j of man's sew state of being — ^the stem need which they must have
fik cf staring real difficulties in the face, and a^pting the readiest means to overcome
than — afterwards the stirring fermentation of passion, which made the earth seem as if h
were one vast cauldron of fierce, relentless, and nnoonqnerabl^hate; then the mip-atorj and
pndatoiy habits of the earth s eariy inhabitants, are all reasons why no account of the
iitcUeetiial piugrcss of onr race could have been transmitted. We are thus left with little
cue than anak^ to direct onr inquiries. But man is naturally an analo^ist; he
gnctaiifea as instinctively as he specializes; and wheresoever the torch of history grow<«
cin, sr the light of ascertainable fact fails, he is irresistibly compelled to avail himself of
the IsBip of Reason and the clue-threads of analogy in traversing the mazy labyrinths of
"XcctBRty is the mother of invention;" and it is seldom that the full force of the
iotrileet is pot forth, except under the pressnre of this sombre btcp-dame. We have every
raasoa to beBeve, therefore, that as man's nature and circumstances necessarily made inter-
noBQincatian requisite, that immense efforts would be made to discover and invent some
mamsatioD-medinm. We must recollect, too, that the human mind was at this time, so
'M m iaan*8 nature admitted, perfect, fresh from the mint of heaven, with the image of God
sapcfiBMribed on it — that exertion was as delightful as it was new, and that the capacity
cf invBtifB was nnimpeded by any obstacle; no step had been taken, the mind had not
^ BMied by dubious and tentative trials ; there only remained, therefore, for the mentality
ts mfald tbe divine ide»-gemis which were enwrapped within it. And how could these fail
to kid and hiewom into speedi, when new, varied, and attractive scenes everywhers met
^ eye — while Adoration, Love, and Friendship— a triad of paradisial angel:) — quickened
the growth of the sod ! But we must beware of looking upon Language as it is now
—a CMiplex and intricate mechanism of idea-symbols — and then speaking of the difficulty
«f snch an invantion being an edoet of human skill. How stately and majestic does the oak
tf a thoosand years appear! how wide-spread itit branches! how complicated its root-fibres!
sad yet it was once bat an apparently insignificant acorn, divinely endowed, indeed, but
tlic dne oonjnnction of place and circumstance to aid its becoming a venerable
To db^ the term was Ant applied, and it is now the cognomen of any one who basely auempts to
Ul kii enemy by stealth. Abturd is primarily derived from ah surdo, i.e., from a deaf man ; but as
* t wmMsaliun the remaiks whidi proceed fVom a deaf man are generally foreign to the subject, a
aetioK of inooagnonsaen arises in the miod, and hence anything superlatively fbolish is likened to
<fc>iMiiUBtiiii of a deaf man. Kleelrieity, gravitation, angle of inci«lenoe, cooimtmism, oalamtoy,
iaikidlilj, pasaoi, knave, villain, ice, may form ^praxiM for the same sort of exposition.
* In speaking fhas, leC it not for a moment be imagined that we impugn the sacred record ; on the
iWiiij, ««, In common with the best biblical commentators, look upon that as deadedly favoorable
^ «sr apioiODa, aUioagh we have no desire to draw down the oracles of Ood from their saend
W^ iaSB iha nridsf of aonlsntioas, and perhaps h reverent, di^putaUonists. 1 1 has other and higher
*Aeit to fcsfgrm— to iaslnist men as to the uMnner of the inner life — to tmveil the moral laws of th^
1^ w sevcal ttte Ood-man, Christ«avionr to men— to open the gateway of immorlidit^— «ai4
^■itteertrfa die doebine of the after HA, wbieb ia but ftdnilj indicated in the book xX naUxTe.
ukphlag by destvnding /hom her own God-built temple \o wvaa^\* *\^
84 SHKTOnc. — MO. m.
forast-kiog ! So has it been with all man's earlier invoitidn-acfaievements. The disooveiy
of metals, and the inyention of instmments of laboar, home conatraction, the fine arts,
social polity, &c., are eqnallj enToIoped in the Tagneness of time-distance. Were ve
ignorant of the snocessive steps which h^ been taken towards the perfection of the steam-
engine from the dajs of Hero of Alexandria (120 b.c.) to onr own, how mysterioas
wonld the invention of snch sen agency appear I Egypt's eternal pyramids, whidi have
outbraved " a thousand storms, a thousand thunders," how were they np-reaied? By what
unknown and manrellons mechanisms were these '* piles stupendous " of massive masonry
buUt in the world's young prime? If obscurity can hang its shadow-clouds over topics
such as these, can we expect to pierce the veil of age-accumulated darkness which encom-
passes the origin of one of man's earliest necessities? Assuredly not; nor is it needful.
All that is requisite is to gain an anal(^cal explanation sufficiently exact to guide our
footsteps in the probable path. If, when we have followed out our analogy, we find that it
complies with all the requirements of the case, we may have good reason to believe that our
view has been correct Let us tread this pathway circumspectly, taking " caution " as our
watchword, and making the attainment of truth our only object. To eliminate the
point of the probability that speech is semi-celestial and semi-humanitarian in its origin, it
seems to us necessary to inquire what faculties possessed by man are capable of assisting
in the origination of idea-representative sounds, t.e., speech. This point may, to some,
appear unimportant, and they may feel inclined to cut ** the gordian knot," by exclaiming,
" Tush I we have language now; teach us rather how to use it as it is, than torture our
minds with speculations as to what it was, and whence it proceeded. The practical — ^the
practical — that is the pre-eminent want of onr age." We have no hesitation in asserting,
that properly conducted speculation must always, in the end, lead to important practical
results. The laws of Theonr justly deduced must be re> applicable to the facts of
Experience; and if Experience, when honestly and carefully interpreted, refuaes to raiUfy
the inferences, she is justly held to have refuted Theory ; but there cannot be any real
and valid disconnexion between the speculations of the philosophic theorist and the truths
of practice. Theory teaches the nature and use of the instrument with which practical
skill operates; a proper acquaintance with the nature of Language cannot, therefore, be
foreign to practical and experimental purposes. It is not merely as a matter of curious
philosophic speculation, but also as a point of considerable practical importance, that we
proceed to lay before our readers one or two brief observations upon the facnltiea of man,
which may be legitimately supposed to have conjointly co-operated in the prodactiGn d
those thought-exponents — ^words.
Ist. Perceptivity. This faculty is the primary element in all human thought, and is, con«
sequently, an essential co-worker in the production of speech. " All objects of all thought,*
whether resulting from a consciousness of internal power^ or of extxaneona impreaaon^
must become so by being brought before this — ^the mind's eye. Truths, tm^ imprcs*
sions from within and without, impinge upon the mind without regard to order, regularity
or sameness. Occurring thus indifferently, they form a mazy and undistingDiahahle mass
until Perceptivity, contemplating the similarities of the impressions, daaaifics then
accordingly, and thus renders them subdivisible. This chaotic aeries of impuigeiiients o]
the human consciousness being thus reduced into manageability by the perception o
KHBTORIO — HO. m. 85
identity, the mind acquires a capadtj of fanning classes of objects, and general ideas of
such classes. Thos do ideas originate — thus are they individuated; each internal and
external sense has hrooght its offering into the tressore-hoose of thought; but there is yet
mpuRd a mental ybrm in which to contain them — a registrative mark in Memory's tablets.
"^If we want to render a particular combination of ideas permanent in the mind, there is
Bothing which clenches it like a name specially devoted to the purpose." Words serve
** t» give a point of attachment to all the more volatile objects of thought and feeling,
laipressiflns, that when passed might be dissipated for ever, are, by their connexion with
kaguge, always within reach. Thoughts, of themselves, are perpetually slipping out of
the field of imnuediate mental vision, but the name abides with us, and the uttersnce of it
ratoRs them in a mcKnent"
iod. Sodetarian Instincts. We have seen in the last paragraph that thonght-exponiblcs
wt sMttsary to man, even in an isolated state, as the recorders and mementoes of experience ;
vha, then, we regard man as a gregarious animal — as being specially adapted for the
iaterriiJBging of "the gentle offices of patient love" — ^as possessed not only of the power of
Itiaf motoally helpful, but also of the desire of being so — ^how much more necessary — how
sndi more enentially requisite — to him will it appear! How powerfully do love, friend-
ilk^ Mod all the delicate emotions of the human mind stir up the intellect I The sameness
«f£B(£x^^ wants, Sec, all minds being nearly similarly impressed, all hearts being agitated
bj nearly identical daires, would naturally produce a readiness of apprehension, and
eaaaesB of eaiiy intercourse, of which we, at this day, can form little idea. Every day we
oiwrve how readily ideas are communicated between parties of reciprocal sentiments. We
need only mention ''the language of the eyes" as an illustration.
3rd. Analogica] Faculties. " The elements of the natural language of mankind, or the
api that are naturally expressive of our thoughts, may, I think, be reduced to these
tbce kinds — modulations of the voice, gestures, and features. By means of these, two
ttvages, who have no common artificial language, can converse together; can communicate
thdr thooghts in some tolerable manner; can ask and refuse, affirm and deny, threaten
tad supplicate ; can traffic, enter into covenants, and plight their faith. This might be
eoDfirmed by historical facts of undoubted credit, if it were necessary .*" * The way in
vlddi this coonmnnication would take place must be accounted for in some such way as
the following: — Self-consciousness reveals to us the fact that when we are mentally
sffeeted in a given way, that mental affection produces certain changes in our bodily frame;
vbea therefore we see any party displaying any external bodily change, similar in its
Sneral aspects to that produced in us by any mental excitation, we immediately conclude
that the internal feeling of that party corresponds with that felt by us when the external
was affected in that particular manner. The natural language of children, who
animals by names indicative of the sounds which they emit — the method of
<<BBnmiratinn between the deaf and dumb — pantomimic performances— the significancy
gesture — are all so many instances of this exercise of the analogical faculties,
rs to the understanding of the process by which the interchangeabiltty of thought
in the prelingnal age, so many indexes to the method in which the analogical
• BtU:» ** Invtiry into the HuDan Mind," chap. iv. sect. ii. p. 55.
86 UHBTORIC. — NO. ID.
faculties would operate. Again, we should recollect that the greater part of human
laagjoage is analogical: thus we saj lion-hearted, chlcken-souled ; thus we speak of the
d^pih and acateness of the mind, the hardness of tho soul, the sweetness of one's temper,
cold-blooded, hot-headed, &c. We speak of storms,' tempests, &c., as denotative of states
of mind. The earlj language of all countries is figurative — the early literature of ever^
oonatry is poeticsd; but poetrj and figurative language are products of the analogical
faculties. We have every reason to believe, then, that in the primeval ages of the worid,
the resemblance-perceptive powers of the mind were more powerfully active, were more
energetically stiuiulated, than now, and consequently that they were more capable of
orif^inating audible thought-signs then than now. And even now how expressiTe may
Language be inade when moulded by the Imitative power of genius;* e.§.: —
" Theprreipiee abrupt ^
I^xgftetiMg horror oa the hlackcoed flood.'* — Thomton's Summer.
** Seen from some pointed promontory** top."— Ibid.
** The Luge roand stone, resulting with a bound,
Thunders impetuous down." — Pope's Essay on Criticism.
4th. The Colligating Faculties. The phenomena of outward nature impress the mind,
each class of objects possesses the power of making specific impingements on the mentality,
and to these the intellectual faculties would first give names. When, however, the mind
jjcrceived that some objects possessed the properties of two different classes, or when it
was under the necessity of coi^oinmg two different thoughts togetlier, it would do so by
colligating the two thought-emblems by which these had been individually indicated in
the mind. We have examples of such colligations of two thought-signs as the expositives
of new ideas fonned by the conjunction of two different objectivities or ideas, in the terntt,
iteam-enffiney sky-blue^ table-kmdf rail- way ^ aelf-taughtf matricide^ rock-bonnd, &c.
It must be evident, from our foregoing remarks, that we believe that the power of
embodying ideas in wordf>, and thus enabling the thought-possessions of one man to
become the property and inheritance of the whole human race, is one of the divine gam-
seeds which has been implanted in the human mind, and which, like the powers of
perceptivity, judgment, and reasoning, is bestowed upon man in order that he may by
* We absudned from quoting iu the text any examples from other languages ; the following line*,
however, are exceedingly expressive : —
" Bi* StuAuv irupu #ira itokv^Xotvfioto 0d\cMr#i;(." — Iliad, book L
" Illi inter sese magna ri brscfaia toUont." — Oeoryie*, book iv.
" Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum." — jEneid^ book vi.
** Fran<^s, Anglais, Lorrains, que la fureur assemble,
Avancaieut, combattaieut, frappaieut, mouraient ensemble."
Voltaire's Henriadef ehant. vi.
" L' horror, la eruHeltil, la tema, il lutto
Van d'intomo scorreado : et iu varia imago
TinciMce la morte errar per tutto,
Vedresti, et andeggiar di sangue un lago."
Tano'B Gienumlemwie Liberuta, eanto ix.
14 VOSAOPATRT TBUS EX ntlKCIPIJE AKD BENEFICIAL 131 PIUCTtCB P 87
csltore and mdiutrj adapt it to useful parposes, and applj it to th« upbuilding of his
ssd in knofwledge. So far forth it is an emanation of the Creator^s omniscient wisdom
sad aU-preTalent beneToIence. We can have no faith in the opinion that a number of the
nembers of the human familj — feeling the want of a medium by which barter, inter-
dbuge, and business, might be facilitated, principles of government adopted, and inter-
firstBCual laws discussed aud definitivelj agreed upon — in solemn convocation assembled,
labononslj u{^lled a series of thought-representatives called words. The principles of
tae haman mind, and the historj of social life, both seem to us to present full warrant for
ikdda^ that such a method of procedure is exccedinglj improbable. Men cannot invent
MgTs for thoughts nntil they have them ; they cannot have them anterior to experience ;
aad ever as a want makes itself pressingly felt, the specific remedy is never long in being
invented. Now, experience can only be attained gradually, wants can only be felt after
experiiesce; therefore the supplying of man's wants can only be gradually accomplished.
h Lu^uige, as in every other object of speculation, no forces are to be assumed except
£idi IS are in present operati<ffi, or of whose operations there remain palpable evidences ; and
^ierever an interpretation can be found in accordance with laws or forces now operating,
tiiat interpretation is to be preferred to any other in which assumptions are made. We
fadjere that our solution of the question at once accords with the forces or laws now in
«p»ition, explains all the phenomena involved in the question, is in harmony with the
teaeitiiigs of the divine record, and in agreement with the laws of speculative human
nam. In the early stages of human progress, when men speak from their ehiottons
ndi«r than their reason, few words are necessary, for the light of imagination flashes its
IlhiBiiiating radiance on all things, and makes even the hidden links of thought visible.
This accords with the facts, that the ancient languages are less copious than the modem,
i&d that poetry is the earliest species of literature which is evolved from the mind — and
*e humbly presume that our remarks have been sufficient to prove that Language is at
«Ke of semi-celestial and semi-humanitarian origin.
^^jlilnsn|iln(.
IS H0M(EOPATHY TRUE IN PRINCIPLE AND BENEFICIAL IN PRACTICE ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
HowowpATHT must die — ** Vinclum" hath
^ttiMnd it. The defenders of the system
asy now prepare their weepers; for though
Even its founder, who was justly considered
to be a man of learning and experience in
his profession, is politely and reverently
there are more truly eminent men ammigst • called an aged simpleton by this learned
tte than there are hairs on ^ Vinclum's " champion of ** Old Mortality"
k«d, yet is the system doomed to destruc- \ But, to be sure, we are taught that les-
tioi. Has iKvt **■ Vinclnm " proved to the | sons of wisdom may be learned from even
«iKB£ieti<Hi of every mm who knows nothing I the errors of others; and we will therefore
sbovl the subjeet, that Homoeopathy is a I set onrseK-es to discover how much of this
^TfariM aad a wmn f and that its sup- honey we can gather firom the carcass befofs
pMttra are fit o^lSv the*" limbo of fbola?"* lu.
88
U BOH<EOPATBT TBUB IN PllIlfCin.K AXD BKNEFICIAI. DT PBACIICE?
What, thai, Mys ''^nclam" on the de-
merita of the systeih under debate ? Why,
just this: — Ist That HomoDOpathj is an
abaurdity and an outrage on common sense;
2nd. **That the claim of originality in
the treatment set np by Homoeopathists
18 no less nnfonnded than their other as-
sumptions:** for " it has been practised to
* oertun extent from the earliest times, and
is suggested by the common sense of evezy
perKm who gires the subject a moment's
consideration." How consolatory to know
that we sha^ not be the sole tenants of that
dreary place, the " limbo of fools ! " ** Vin-
dnm" and Ca will not only aooompany us,
but actually have a prior cUim to poeses-
aon: to which we resignedly submit. For
** Vinclnm** first says our system is absurd;
and then in the same breath contradicts
himself, by saying that the system, or the
mode of treatment (which is an integral
part of it), has been practised since the
earliest times, and commends itself to the
common sense of every one who gives the
subject a moment's consideration. Was any
man ever so inconsistent I Surely ^ Vinclum"
is but playing a practical joke upon us.
"Vinclum" proceeds to say — "But even
admitting their therapeutic treatment to be
feasible, or perhaps adrnmbUf we must protest
most emphatically against the globular part
of the business." Now, we notice this sim-
ply for the purpose of telling " Vinclum "
that he has surrendered his position; and
that, having admitted that the HomaH)patbic
treatment is "feasible," and "even advi-
sable," he has forfeited his right to protest,
either emphatically or otherwise, against the
" globular part of the business." For, be it
known to our friend, that what he calls their
" therapeutic treatment" t«,and what he calls
the "globular part of the business "t« not, an
essential part of the system, as C. W., Jun.
has shown: — ^** The fact is, that Homceop-
athista themselves are not yet quite agreed
on the subject, though they all agree that in
moBt cases tame good effect may be expected
from tlie amaliett doses, provided that n
really suitable Homoeopathic remedy be
used." " That they are not agreed concern-
ing the tnagnihtde of the doses is not sur-
prising, for it is probable that by the habit
of taking medicine on the ordinary plan,
aome persons become peculiarly unsusceptible
to HonxBopathio doses. It is also possible
that different individuals, and yet more, dif-
ferent nations, vary in sensitiTeneBS. For all
these reasons it seems necessary, at least at
present, that Homoeopathists dionld adapt
the strength of their doses to the constitu-
tion of their patients." * It is added, that
Hahnemann at first used doses of the ordi-
nary quantity, but finding them veiy highly
to aggravate the cbmplaint, without any
corresponding advantage, he made them
smaller and smaller, till, alter iunnmerable
experiments, he found himself forced to re-
duce them to a minuteness such, that, for
want of a better name, they hare been called
infinitesimal.
But, in fact, what care we at all about
the d priori absurdity of the system, if its
practically beneficial character be susceptible
of proof ? Every new system has been
assailed with the same cry. Eren Harvey
and Jenner were voted very absurd charac-
ters, till men grew a little wiser. But much
as "Vinclum" has to say respecting the
absurdity of the system, he has not one
word to Sparc on the statistics of mortality,
as regards either the wise old system or the
absurd new one. At the risk of making an
actually too long an article an unconscion-
able length, we will endeavour to supply the
omission. Our authority is Dr. Epps, of Lon-
don :— " Professor Henderson, of the Edinbni^h
University, has shown that in nine hundred
and nine coses of inflammation of the lungs,
treated upon the established system, no
fewer than two hundred and twelve died;
that is, nearly one out of every four : whereas,
in two hundred and ninety-nine treated on
the HouKEopathic system, only nineteen died,
or one out of every fifteen cases. In oni-
hundred and eleven cases of pleurisy treated
upon the old plan, fourteen deaths ensued,
or about one in eight ; whereas, out of two
ktmdred and ttcenty-four cases of the same
malady treated Homoeopathically, there wen«
but three deatksj or Uttle more than one in
one hundred caeet. Again, in twenty-one
cases actually occurring m the Edinburgh
University, upon the old plan, there wen*
bix deaths, or more than one in four; when^
as, in one hundred and five cases of the
same malady treated HooMeopathicaUy, tlicrc
were bnt five deaths, or one in twerUy-Jice
* S. C. Davids, M.D., Oiadoate of the Unirrr-
•itv of OlMgow, and LieeDCiale of the Koyal
College of Smijeona of Bdinbuif^.
n BOaiCEOPATHT TBUK DT PRINCIPLB AND BKNRFICIAL 1^ PBACTICS ?
89
Ml/ In CiDchuuiti, Ohio, the patienU
■ted for AsUtic cholera, bj the Uomax>-
dne practitiooera, in 1849, were two
inwnd £i>ar hnndred and ten, and they
t mIj eighty-fire, or three and a hoL/per
It; whereas the average loss under the
\ ijstem was one in three patients, and
oetiBies the loss was greater."
Hsw, I contend that these statistics prove
kWneficial tendency of the system; and I
lb to ask ** Vindnm " how he will recon-
cile with these results his assertion that the
system ^*is founded upon imperfect deduc-
tions from a few simple facts,** and " that
the every-day experience of the commonest
practitioner is directly at variance with its
fundamental laws? " If it be so, " Vinclum"
can prove it by showing vastly superior
results; and, failing his ability to do that, he
must acknowledge that Uomceopathy is both
" true in principle '* and " beneficial in
practice." Ibese.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
ooT intaiti<4), subsequently to
<ue <^ the opening artides on the
bMt ^all■tim^, altogether to abstain from
Of fttfsre interference in the debate which
ifl^CKiie ; bat the inaccuracies with which
eint affimuilive paper teems, no less than
e thnad-bare fallacies by which C. W., Jun.,
I CBdeavoared to substantiate his position,
B^ US, tboogh unwillingly, to attempt
eff refutation.
Iht 9amsj analogy which the latter writer
I Attempted to draw between the illustrious
iO0fei«r of the circulation of the blood and
e Botorious founder of the HomoBopathic
Aon; the hacknicd reference to the per-
ation <^ great minds and great ideas in
Mi bygone—times of ignorance, delusion,
1 superstition; have contributed to lower
tadoably in our eyes a cause which even
tioosly had faUen far below zero.
Shall the touching incident of the aged
iloaopber, who on his bended knees was
opelied, by the dictatorial power of a re-
oos tribunal, to abjure the sublime law
ieh had cost him his life to investigate;
the cmel opposition of an interested clique
prafczi&ional brethren to the antlior of|
xinatioa, be cited as parallelisms to the
eof a system which, after having shirked,
long as it was able, the decisive tests
kh have at length unveiled it, would now
I slink away from well-merited contempt
Hath such a cloak as this, and nestle like
ioeobos on the bosoms of those whose
MfBnce exposes them to its impositions
1 absoiditics, from which their superiors
•duration are better able to defend them-
wmt Ko; though the antagonism which
■ft always be devek>ped contemporaneously
Kk the g^nBBatioa of the seeds of error
■ cnnd lh« medml profession to be on
the ^t vive with regard to Mesmerism,
Hydropatliy, and the legion of other heresies
to which these latter duys have given birth,
and which, from the small amount of truth
they contain, are oidy the more dangerous,
it is otherwise with the Infinitesimal theory.
We remember hearing a clever Bomish
priest endeavouring to inculcate on hiK
audience the idea that the Church of Borne
must be the only true one, as she was the
most persecuted of all churches. " Brethren,'*
said the doctor, " men" (referring more espe-
cially to the Church of England) **have
always hated us as the devil only can hate
truth. It is not so with the other sects, with
the Dissenters, with the Baptists, the Uni-
tarians, or with the disciples of Johanna
Soutbcote; they are simply deq»iaedJ* So it
is with Homoeopathy ; we treat it not as we
do the other systems, which our opponents
could claim as of cc^nate origin with them-
selves: we simply despise it. They ignore
in their statements the pliunest laws of
science and the dictates of common sense;
can we do otherwise than view it in the light
with which its followers have Illuminated it?
We must confess that there are some sen-
tences in G. V. s paper that have completely
staggered us; the farrago of bad logic and
coarse science which he has suc^^eeded in
concocting is rather more than we could have
conceived pot>sible of any mun, la»t of all of
a Doctor Medicinae.
Ue tells us that Homoeopathy emancipates
mankind from ills uuumubcr^ **by regu-
lating the provision of aliment, from which
it discards all medicinal and stimulating sub-
stances," &c. How, in the name of all that
is incongruous, does he define a stimulant,
and how medicine ? We always thought that
all aliments were more or less stimuUUn^.
90 IS HOMCEOPATMT TRUB TS PRUVOIPLB AKD BE9EFICIAL IN PRACTtCB ?
I
Surely G. V. will not deny this property to •
articles of whicb it is to be supposed he often
partakes, viz., roast beef and plum podding?
For ourselves, to our cost hare we often re-
gretted the excessive stimnlatinj? qualities
of viands in which we have been tempted to
indulge above measure. But perhaps he may
fall back on the quibble, that these are
natural stimulants, and he refers to artificial
■ones. Granted : but is not medicine in all its
forms a stimulant, and an artificial one too,
whether it be administered Allopathically
or Homflcopathically? And it is useless to
allege the excuse, that given on the former
principle it is much more injurious than on
the latter, on account of the increased quan-
tity of the daw ; because, according to their
own showing, it is the very minuteness of
the Homoeopathic globules which constitutes
their efficiency; ergo, the reckless manner
in which we administer our remedies is a
sore safeguard against any ill effects accruing
from them. If medicine be discarded, what,
we should like to know, are the innumerable
tinctures, powders, &c., which are compre-
hended in their pharmacopoeia? Non-stimu-
lating aliment, we suppose I
"Man was ordained by nature to sufier,"
(we very much doubt it,) therefore Homoeop-
athy **was designed to free him from all
those sufferings to which his own folly and
auperstition have hitherto made him a
martyr." If ignorance had been the original
sin, our first parents would, in all probability,
never have been expelled paradise; but, un-
fortunately for our writer, Adam sinned, not
through a deficiency of knowledge, but from
an unholy thirst for more.
So, after all, the real prop of the Homosop-
athists seems to be that they pay especial
attention to the diet of their patients. We do
verily believe that these globules are only a
pleasant subterfuge, under which they expect
to escape from the charge of not giving their
patienta any medicine at all. They have at
last arrived at the great secret, that the
repair of nature's organism must, to a con-
siderable extent, be left to nature herself:
but, unwilling to abandon that superstitious
enthralment in which a medical man holds
the majority of his patients, the immense
inflnence which he exerts over their minds
by the mere prescription of anything in the
shape of physic, they have resorted to this —
we raiist say unworthy — plan of preserving
what may be deemed their hereditary caste.
Ah, gentlemen! take a friei^'s advice; show
your true colours ; enlist yourselves with the
Hydropathists and Vegetarians, and 70a will
stand a much better chance of succeeding
than you do at present.
We had intended to draw our readers* at-
tention to the fallacy, that ** Homoropathy
Avill in no case do positive injury ;" but it has
been so well handled by the writer of the
last negative article on the subject — whose
paper, by the way, is to our mind a carefully-
written digest of most of the facts connected
^ith the case —that we do not feel it necessary
to do so.
Our opponents are very fond of insisting
on showing their hospital books, and other
such-like testimonies to the numbo* of their
cures, as a proof of the successful ness of their
plan of treatment. But there is one thing
which must never be lost sight of (layix^
aside the fact that the nature of the organism
to be acted on, the varied character of the
symptoms of a disease, the purity of the
medicines, which in no case can be absohitely
guaranteed, together with other collateral
circumstances, render any inquiry of this
kind so complicated as to make it of Httle or
no practical vahie), that the tendency of most
acute diseases, the class more likely than
any other to come under inspection at
Homoeopathic hospitals, is to recover. Be-
sides, past hoc is not necessarily propter hoe;
if it were, what marvellous effects might not
in justice be attributed to agents which we
know possess of themselves no intrinsic vahie,
but only so far as they help to bring about
a combination of favourable conditions.
G. V. lays great stress upon the impor-
tance of Homosopathic medicines as speeijia.
We need hardly call the attention of the
scientific reader to so palpable an error.
Every person knows that one rational cure is
worth half-a-dozen empirical ones. What is
a specific but an agent empirically used to
produce an effect, which, up to the time of so
using, it has been more or less successful in
producing? But how can we ensure its suc-
cess in this, it may be the hundredth time of
employing? True, it has been successful in
ninety-nine cases, but may it not fail in the
last ? In this it differs from rational medieines,
that the lattorare uniformly constant in their
action and certain in their effects. The word
is a remnant of bygone days, and recab the
IS BOiMCEOPATHT TBCK Dl PRIKCIPLB AKD BBKEFICIAL IN PIUCTICE ? 91
darkneis of the earl j dawn of our profession ;
bat who would not wish to see it expunged
from the medical glossary ? There is no denj-
ioz that we have specifics even now, and that
veaMthferaaasiich; bat it is only a proof of
himizr we jet are from a perfect insight
iata the working o{ nature's machinery.
When the qualities and action of therapeutic
agents &iiall hare been more thoroughly in-
fcstigated, then may we hope to see some
lat^t shed apm a subject, where, aa yet, erery
addttisnal footatep only leads to a more in-
fitritable eonfoaifln. Till then we must
RBsia eontent; bat let us not invite back
the |«tas of bygone supezstitiiiBS, by rs-
ittntedui^ terms which are only ezpresaire
«f her £an^r reign amongst ua.
As Id that diai^y of grandiloquence with
vkiefc U. V. finisbes up, it is worth nothing;
■t ifciMlnfely worth the pen, ink, and brains
eiioh haT* been aqoaodcred on its prodnc-
tiac It is worse than worthksa, for it levels
its enter to the grade of those penny-a-
fian who dignify, by similar compoaitions,
tlM Pantecfaiutheca or the Eureka shirt.
if GL V. really wishes to advance UomoBop-
Mikj^ m waj other pet system, we would
sdrjsi him to enuneiate propositions which
ksft aometfainfr more tangible about them,
tksa sacfa as the most wretched caterer for
l^^nry tradesmen could rival, if not surpass.
We had. intended to have alluded to many
MR pervcnnons of truth which, " thick as
haves in VaUomhroaa,'' are plentifully woven
'■id var oppoocnta* arguments : but lack <tf
tiae^ sad wane stiO, want of qiace, autfao-
litatifely Ibrhid our entering further upon
tke sHb^L With one more reference we
Bert eanehide, and it is to the uncharitable
MBtcnce in which C W.^ Jun., charges us
eith a meceenaiy modve in rejecting Ho-
moeopathy. Like other writers whoee wit
outruns their wisdom, he has been led into
an error which we will venture to say the
veriest tyro in such matters could not avoid
discovering. We know, and the public know
too — at least it ou,fi:ht to know, only it shuts
its eyes blindly to the fact — that under the
old ^stem, and too often under the improved
state of things, medicine is sent and charged
for which is not absolutely necessary. This
has been, and will be,, until affairs are better
managed, the opprobrium of the profession.
But can people grumble at a practice which
they alone are instrumental in retaining ?
If they will not pay a medical man for his
time, which is inestimably precious, for his
health, which is equally so, and for an ez-
pettbive education, can they com|^ain if the
fee which is so fairly due for professional
advice, is grudgingly extorted by means of
unprofessional bills for unnecessary itema ?
The lawyer, and oil other servants of the
public, charge for their time, and why should
not the medical man do so as well ? He
must be paid, and if John Bull will not
loose his purse strings to the claims of a
gentleman, he must **come down," and to
the cost of his wretched stomach too, with
his gold to the debtor and creditor account
of the tradesman for "value received."
When the English public shall have been
imbued with a more liberal spirit, and shall
have learned to treat with becoming con-
fidence men who hold, not the political
righta, but the lives of its members, in their
hands, then, and not till then, will the bond
be severed, and one long peace arise, to the
emancipation of the physician from the
trammels of the apothecary, and the sur-
geon's scalpel from the druggist's mortar.
ViacLusr.
PuiOLiT la LiTB.^— No life can be luqipy, but that which is spent in the prosecution of
porpoae to which our powers are equal, and which we, therefore, prosecute with
m% toe this reason it is absurd to dread business, upon pretence that it will leave few
iattrrals for pleasure. Business is that by which industry pursues its purpose, and the
lerpow of industry is seldom disappointed; he who endeavours to arrive at a certain point,
^vUch he peicrloea Imntdf perpetually to approach, enjoys all the happiness which nature
hadktIeA te tiMSe hoofB, tluil are not spent in the immediate gratification ef appetites
are indicated, or of affections by which we are prompted to supply
92
CAH THB APOSTOLIC ONOIN AND NATIONAL IKDEPENDSNCK
35istan[.
CAN THE APOSTOLIC ORIGIN AND NATIONAL INDl^PENDENCE OF THE
BRITISH CHURCH BE PROVED?
NEGATIVE REPLY.— III.
In availing mjself of the right of replying
in this discussion, I must express myself at
a loss to find matter to fill a page, inasmuch
as our friend, J. B., has left me little or
nothing to refate. He has adduced no argu-
ment or proof to show that the present
Church of England is constructed after the
apostolic model ; but has simply contented
himself with bringing forward certain very
unsatisfactory statements, said to have been
written by certain fathers in the second
and following centuries. And what would
those statements prove, if admitted as satis-
factory ^evidence in this discussion? Why,
simply this : — that some of the apostles did
preach in Britain — a fact that requires much
more proof than J. B. has been able to pro-
duce, before it can be believed by an inquiring
mind. But, for the sake of argument, let us
admit that J. B. has shown that St. Paul
or some other apostle did preach in Britain ;
of what use is such an admission in deter-
mining that the present Church of England
is more apostolic than her compeers in this
realm? Merely the fact of an apostle having
preached in England, can be no warrant for
our supposing that the arrogant claims of the
Anglican bishops, and the would-be-called
Anglican priests, are derived by descent from
the apostles. Such an idea is too preposterous
to be entertained, and J. B. has studiously
avoided putting it forward. Why, then, try
to dazzle our minds with long statements
about the bare probability that an apostle
did honour this island with his presence?
Did onr friend wish to draw us away from
facts, to amaze us with religious fictions?
Let him show us that the parent Church of
England is apostolic in her constitution, her
forms and her ceremonies, and that she
approves of nothing but what the apostles
themselves taught and sanctioned, then, and
not till then, shall we be inclined to allow
that he has made out a case which in any
degree militates against the arguments whidi
have been already advanced.
So long ss such a proceeding as that
lately enacted at Frome can be tolerated in
the English Church, and so long as the
English bishops usurp all power in oar
church, so long must we contend that she b
far less apostolic than the majority of the sects.
The simple criterion oi the apostolic
character of any church is not profane his-
tory, but the word of God ; and so long as
any church countenances, by her usage and
her laws, customs at variance with the New
Testament, it is futile for her members to
arrogate for her the proud title of the one
apostolic church.
Doubtless the Church of England holds all
the doctrines the apostles taught, but, alas!
some of her formularies sanction matters the
apostles would have scorned to allow. And
too many of her sons hold doctrines which
are diametrically opposed to the truth ; con-
seqnently we contend that she cannot sub-
stantiate the claim of being more apostoUc
than the Dissenting churches.
Her freedom is the freedom of a serf; she
is governed by the Queen and Parliament;
and so long as she receives all her pay {ram
the state, so long will she be under the power
of the state.
It remains for J. B. to prove the contraiy.
W. T.
AFFIRMATIVE REPLY.— III.
A PEW words in reply to the view taken | W. T. says, ^' The proud claims now put
by W. T., in anticipation of the afiirmative forth by High Churchmen lead us to inquire,
article in No. 21, and to the letter of " Scru-
tator,'* in No. 22, will bring my remarks to
> conrlnsion.
where are the proofs that the English Churek
is the only apostolic church in this land?**
He seems, by this remark, not to be aware
or THE BSmSH CBUBCH BE PBOWD ?
93
that the riew I took in mj first mrtide is
beld bv manj Low Churcliinra : in fact, to
HIT knowledge, bj sererml clereymen who
ruk hi^h Among the " champions of Protes>
tiotuan." This being the case, the ^ Hi^h
Cirarehmen** merit a moietj onlj of W. T.'s
csstigations. The question has no connezion
vbiterer with ''apostolic snceession,** and
tlxidbre I shall oolj make a passing remark
QpCD wbat W. T. adduces in opposition.
That the goremment of the Primitive
Ckuth was episcopal 1 firmlj belie\'e. Of
tautt, it does not come within mjr present
pvpoie to offer mj grounds for that belief:
nor da I see that the article of W. T. bears at
I all vpen the £act, which I endeaToured to
i pnre in my Brrt article. How does it happen
ihat daring all the heresies and divisions in
t^ int fimrteen centuries, not one was found
tode!i7tbeauthoritj of the bishops? What
faavc imagine to be more likely than, when
a hcresiarch failed to obtain the sanction of
t bMbop, he should proclaim that the epift-
oifsl government was not apostolic? Wo
do oot» bowerer, find that one did so; but,
<n the eootrarj, the utmost anxiety was
thsmu figr their concurrence in all matters.
Tkst the present state of our episcopate does
Bat disprove the doctrine of apostolic suc-
cnsion, ia, I think, evident. If the argument
W jEood, what was to have prevented a Jew
'i the time of our blessed Lord denying the
sithoritj of the chief priests and scribes, who
tbn bore authority in his church ? The in-
juliee and malevolence they displayed in their
tnatsKnt of the Son of God — their hypocrisy
—their practical neglect of the most positive
«M""**ii«w1t of Jehovah, by demanding obe-
fienee to traditions which rendered these
ammaads of no effect, would surely have
joitificd a conscientious servant of the
Ahmghty in disregarding their authority.
Tct what is the language of Christ himself
snthUpoint? Matt.xziiL2,3. *" The scribes
aad Pharisees sit in Moses* seat : all there>
iore whatsoever they bid you observe, that
observe and do; but do not ye after their
works: fix- they say, and do not." The in-
jnstiee of the high priest Ananias, in com-
■'—^ing the bystanders to smite the ^ great
AfatDtt «f the Gentiles " in the mouth, was
wciy aiafieieBt crimefbr the reproof which
tmmiUnA to him. Yet St. Paul
itBMSHUjto make the apology that
k»«iilBot'...''thal he WM the high
priest." No conduct could be more in oppo-
sition to the law, or to the example of the
great Lawgiver — " the meekest of men" — of
their nation, than this; but, even in such an
extn)ne case, the Uw, " Thou shalt not speak
eril of the ruler of thy people," was strictly
applicable.
The Jewish Church was, in every respect,
a type of the Christian Church. Our blessed
Saviour came into this world purposely to
establish the latter. " He taketh away the
first," says the apostle, "that he may estab-
lish the second." He has taken away the
law and the legal priesthood, that he may
establish the gospel and the evangelical
priesthood. The authority of the former,
which was only " a shadow of good things to
come," all acknowledged, and I cannot enter-
tain the idea, reasoning from analogy, that
the christian priesthood was to be less privi-
leged. Will W. T., then, affirm that because
our bishops are not so many " lowly men,"
that the church is not apostolic? It would
not be difficult " to point out the fallacy" of
W. T.'s argument with reference to the in-
dependence of our church ; but he will have
learned, since his article appeared, that he
misunderstood the meaning oif the term as I
used it.
We next proceed to notice "Scrutator's"
article. He finds fault at the onset with our
witnesses, and calls exactly similar testimony
to his aid. I shall not be deemed presump-
tuous by your readers, if I direct their at-
tention to the works of Inett, Stillingfleet,
Barrow, Mason, Beveridge, Lloyd, Hales,
Owen, and Burgess, for the purpose of ex-
amining this important part of our early
church history; and I think they will find in
them the following position established, riz.,
that the arguments in favour of the preaching
of St. Paul in Britain are so strong, as not to
admit of a doubt in the minds cf those who
have duly studied the question, aided by
the researches of the Weish arckaologUU ;
whilst the claims in favour of Joseph of
Arimathea and Aristobulus, as advanced by
Cressy and others, are now generally deemed
unworthy of notice. With reference to Joseph
of Arimathea, we may mention that Bishop
Stillingfleet, in his '* Origines Britannicas, '
chap, i., has ably examined all the circum-
stances connected with tradition, and has
satisfiuitorily proved the improbability of his
minion to this country at all. Mo minlioii
94
CAN THE AFOSTOUG ORIGUf AJID NATIONAL INDEPENDENCE
is made of ifc by Gildas, Bede, Asserius,
Scotas, Mariannft, or any of the early writers.
Sancto PaulOf in hia Sacred Geograpliy —
Great Britain — ti-eats the story of Joseph of
Arimathea as a complete fable.
When speaking of St. Pauls visit to Spain,
"Scrutator" says, — "But is our friend not
aware that it has been a disputed point with
bible students, as to whether the country
there referred to is the same as the one known
to us by that name? " I must confess my
ignorance, and feel proud that in doing so I
agree with such men as Dr. Adam Clark,
lir. M'Knight, and others : in fact, there
seems to be no doubt in the minds of our
best commentators on this poi nt. " Scru tator"
directs my attention to the Triadcs. I have
before me a book on the British Church,
written by a Welsh clergymaUf a thorough
Welsh scholar, who maintains the same view
as I have put forth. He often mentions the
Triades, but still believes in the apastolic
origin of the British Church. It is highly
probable that hrka invited St. Paul to visit
Britain (he being his contemporary prisoner
at Borne), and that he afterwards consecrated
Aristobulas a bishop for the Britons.
" Scrutator *' will know, ere this, that the
superstructure I have reared on the carefully
laid foundation does not contain, because it
was unnecessary, what he ironically calls a
" holy thing.** My only object was to put
forward, in a tangible shape, what I had
been led to believe, after long and careful
study. I will just close the question by
briefly recapitulating the chief points I wish
to impress on the minds of those who have
read my articles in Nos. 21 and 22.
The church in our favoured bland was
planted by St. Paul, shortly before a.d. 61.
That ahe flourished in the second and third
centuries. " In the fourth century some of
her faithful children received the crown of
martyrdom, during the Diocletian persecu-
tion ; and, on the accession (^ Constantine to
the throue of the CsBsars, we find her recog-
nised as a portion of the great christiaa
community by all other charches, her pre*
lates regularly attending her councils, and
subscribing their decrees and canons. Lb the
fifth century, owing to the sanguinary de-
vastation of Britain, first by the Picta and
Scots, and subsequently by the Saxoni, the
church for a time became partially ohseored,
and shrunk before her enemies within the
remote fastnesses of Wales and Cornwall."
Augustin, on his arrival, found a christian
churoli, possessing, as we do at present, an
apostolical priesthood. The bishops and
clergy would not acknowledge his authority,
for which some 1^200 priests and monks were
cruelly murdered. At the Council of Fmk-
fort, A.D. 794, the Popes commands were
rejected. The British Church lived during
the 200 years of Danish invasion. Edward
the ConfesscH* resisted the Pope*8 chnma.
William I. and II. protested against the
Papal power with natural sternness; Henry L
with intelligence and firmness. In fact, then
is no pericd of our history when the Papal
jurisdiction existed as a right. Oocasioudly
some sovereign or furelatc, bolder or more
learned than his fellows, would resist this
usurpation: among these champions we find
Robert Groslete, bishop of Lincoln, and John
Wicklifie. The Statute of Prmmmmrt,
A.D. 1393, gave the Church of Bome in this
land a fatal blow, from which it never re-
covered. The victory at Bosworth FieUL
placed the house of Tudor on the British
throne, and before that house was dispbwed,
bad as some of its sovereigns were, the
Reformation was carried <m and completed.
My reply is finished. The reader who
ponders the subject will see some of the
conclusive evidence which early anthendc
records afl^rd us of the apostolic origin, the
orthodoxy, the vigour, the independence, and
we may add the primitive virtual, indeed
literal, Protestantism of the church of our
forefathers, the church still of the " British
Isles.'* J. B.
NEUTRAL ARTICLE.
Another element can be introduced in
the discussion of this subject, which for
want of a truer term we may perhapa call
Neutral.
Strange it is, that in this discussion the
Church should have been so little all oded to!
Let me first, then, give its histocy, from
which afterwards we may derive aomt Tiewa
bearing apon the question in debate.
Whoever may have been the fiurst indi-
existence uf the ancient British Culdee vidoal promulgaton of Christiasity in our
OP THB BRinSU CIIDKCH BR PROVED ?
95
jve bad, the CaldM Cliurcli, as the oidest
rutiao eccJeaiiafttic otablUliraent in tlie
itiih bles, ranks in precedenoe above the
aiu** Papal Church iu this country: and
nigh ito Kmaining records, brief as the/
% presents a b^d protestation a<;ainst its
oqatiiMts ia the name of Peter. It was
fts foanded. Abovt the jear 563, Colnm-
. with twelve of his followers^ left his
tiie Ireland, as the Venerable Bede records,
a preach tiie word c^ God to the province
the ^uirthpm Picts.** After convertinp^
ne to the faith of Christ, by bis precepts
d oainple, he received from them the
bad of loDA, fur the purpose of founding
tdipaas oommaoity, <rf' which he was the
ok ihbat — his companions forming a col-
•Hi «f spoatlea ami elders. Thus they
icmtd the name of Cnldees, from the Gaelic
vd «r4 signifying a cell, the individual
Tiitnift in a convent. In lona they thus
td at a religious community, ** having all
dafi in commcm,'* like the early disciples
. Jcnualem; and in that island, tlius hal-
ved by sacredly ancient associations, was
« centre of their operations for the con-
nion of their forefathers to the gospel,
flde gives a brief account of a mission sent
B iona to Northnmbria, under Aidan, a
ihop or overseer ordained for that purpose.
aa, be tells us, always had " for its go-
fament a presbyter abbot (or patriarch),
wfaoM authority both the whole province,
d cres the bishops themselves, by an uui-
ml eoBBtitution, ought to be subject, after
e example of their first teacher, who was
< a bi4M^ but a monk." — ** From this
iaad,*' he adds, " and from this colleffio
MMdhonon, was Aidan sent, having re-
ived the degree of a bishop.** The king,
maid, be further tells us, ''sent to the
ioB df the JSoots, among whom, during his
he had been baptized, that they
send him a biahop, by whose doctrine
li ainisTry the nation of tlie Angles, which
c govefiKHi, might be instnicted in the
bristian futh.** Sergemus, then patriarch
f lona, held a council with his elders upon
bis communication, — *' the faces of all that
rt then were turned to Aidan ; " and " they
ieterBined he was worthy of the bishop's
An, and thus, making him bishop, they
ttt bin forth <ojMieae&." To this apostolate
i JliJAaCuj the great and venerable entab-
hbaeot «f Laadiafanw, or Holy Island,
owed its foundation. After his death, Bede
further reports, that "Finan, in his stead,
received the degree of biflmpric, being or-
dained and sent by the Scots.'* The progress
of the Culdee Church, however, is involved in
much obscurity. The Komanists, when they
arrived at power, probably destroyed their
records. The chiof coUqi^e of lona was burnt
several times by the Danes and other enemies,
and had its martyrs in an abbot and fifteen
disciples. Notwithstanding these disasters,
nortliem learning was greatly indebted to
its institution. It was for a long ]icriod the
great European school of tlieology and science.
Its library was famous, and its piety without
imputation. Many otiier were the collegiate
establishments which branched from it.
although we know but little of their history.
Those in Scotland gave to that country its
early European reputation for learning.
Certainly also, at the time of the Boman
Pope Gregory, when Augubtin was sent by
liim to the heathen Saxons of Britain, who
were then even the most numerous part of
the population, the ministry of the prinutive
Culdee churches was in full activity. In
doctrine, also, the Culdccs Fided with our
illustrious countryman, Pelagius. The
Romish f>arty thence, on their introduction
to England, attacked them as heretic, gained
or bribed the ears of the princes against them,
and, assisted by the arm of fiesh, seised up<m
their bishoprics. Hundreds were slaughtered
at the Culdee convent of Bangor, under the
swords of the Uomish Saxons — newly con-
verted, as Rome converts. Several centuries
after Angustin, nevertheless, establishments
of " the old religion,** as it was well called,
still remained in obscure parts of Britain.
Giraldus Cambrensis refers by name to the
Culdee chnrcfaes, as existing in his day
Bede furtlier informs us, that the mem-
bers of their colleges, "according to the
example of the venerable fathers." lived by
the labour of their own hands. Lingard in-
forms us, after Bede, that " the little property
they enjoyed was common to all." Thus
they were orthodox to the custom of the
church at Jerusalem, although heretics to
the usurping bibhop of Borne. The Roman-
ists attacked them on their time of keeping
Easter, and on their mode of tonsure. They
also accused them of not instituting the con-
fessional. It may also be inferred from Bede.
that the Culdee Church baptized " in tx\N'
96 CAN THK APOCIOUC OBIGUr OF THE BRmBH CHUBCH BK PBOVED?
-water tiwy came to," withoat any ceremonies
similar to the Bomish riteR; and Lanfranc
reports also that the Irish Christians bap-
tised infants by immersion, withoat the use
•fa chrism. The ** real presence," and imaj^e-
worship, formed also no part of the Cnldee
creed. The war between Borne and lona was,
therefore, one of life and death. In this
Rome came forth the conqueror, throngh her
monej, her arms, her skill in intrigne, and,
not least, the easy nature of her oonrersions.
Her idolatry was more likely to gain Pagans,
than the pure Christianity of the Cnldee
colleges. Still the old religion of Britain
fell not without a sacred struggle. Bu-
chanan informs us, that Boniface, an agent
of Rome, upon a visit to Scotland, was
opposed openly by two learned Cnldees,
Clemens and Samson, who told him freely,
that he, and those of his party, sti^died to
bring men to the subjection of the Pope and
slayery of Bome, withdrawing them from
obedience to Christ; that they were corrup-
ters of Christ's doctrine, establishing a sove-
reignty in the bishop of Bome as the only
successor of the apostles, to the exclusion
of other bishops; that they used and com-
manded clerical tonsure; that they forbade
marriage to priests, and extolled celibacy ;*
that they caused prayers to be made for the
dead, and erected images in their churches;
that they had introduced into the church
many tenets, rites, and ceremonies, unknown
to the ancient and pure times, yea, contrary
to them. For this, Clemens and others
suffered martyrdom. Even as late, however,
as 1176, Gilbert Murray, a young Scotch
clerk, chivalrously asserted the claims of
the Cnldee Church, in the face of a cardinal
legate from Bome. Now, desolate and in
ruins, are lona and its colleges. '*The
* It might thos be inrerred, that the Culdee
oonvents were not oelibitary, and that their min-
iiten were not monks exceot in the sense of
ecBBoviccs— partakers in a collegiate form of life.
island, which was once the metropoliB of
learning and piety, has now no sobool of
education, or temple of worship." Yet,
" perhaps in the revolutions of the world,
lona may be some time again the instruc-
tress of the western regions." In history, at
least, though dead she still speaketh.
Having thus sketched her history, let ns
ask, What does the past existence of the
Culdee Church say in proof or disproof of
the apostolic origin and national indepen-
dence of the British Church? It declares to
us the fact of an ancient church, existing in
these islands, as purely apostolic in principle
as possible, and thus utterly at variance
with churches claiming to be apostolic, only
by successive impositions of hands. It in-
forms us, that that church asserted its in-
dependence bravely a<^inst Boman usurpa-
tion, but evidently also, that it was neither
state established nor generally roceived.
It declares to us, that it was subdued by
Bome — therefore that the church wllich in
this country had the most ancient claim to
apostolic origin, lost its independence, and
ceased to be "the British Chnrch.** The
present state Established Church of England
derived its ordination from Rome — ^not from
the Cnldee Church. It is a brandi, there-
fore, from the Boman, and not from th«
British Church. The confusion increases.
Let it do so. Inward things are assarv^ly
superior to outward ; and an apostolic
spirit to an episcopal ordination. I throw:
then, this sketch of the Culdee Church, ^tl
its purposely crude conclusions, as flax t4i
the flame, satisfied simply to add aiioOt«>i
element to an important controversT.
G. B.
[We insert the foregouig article on ar
count of the interesting information ^hicl
it contains, and from a desire not to reetrl<
our contributors in every instance to affinxi
ative and negative positions — Eos.]
The world would be more happy, if persons gave up more time to an intercouTse
friendship. But money engrosses all our deference; and we scarcely enjoy a social hov
because we think it unjustly stolen from the great business of our lives. — Shenttane,
Thou mayest make thyself more learned by reading, but ^ser only by acting ; spei
not all thy vigour in discipline, in the dressing-room of the soul, but step out into tl
world, and live as well as think.
UVOBT THB JEWS TO BK ADMITTBD TO PARI.IAMKSTT?
97
l^nlitirs.
OUGHT THE JEWS TO BE ADMITTED TO PARLIAMENT?
AfFIRMATIYE ARTICLE.— III.
Thu if A qotstion of two tides, snd each
tlMi^t to yomrm soffident pisonbiiitj to
«iapc It far t^ BriiUk ConirovernaUst. It
»•»; but it is, mt the same time, so iurtsnce
AfastiTe right obocared,of the rerj timpltcit j
d pbin, VBHiistskable setf-evidence mjsti-
ifti sU thanks to the darkness and crneltj
•f the fast, and the ccHiTentionalitj and world-
liag Christianity of the praeent ! But this is
Bot the ealj interestwhich has been 00 acted
apoofaf niscciieeptioo, mistaken seal, vicioas
imifnfiii. and traditional influence. Dis-
traikf senm, and malerolence, — these, as the
fivtar diildren of sordid interosts, snd the
fidoDS leermxnstioDS c^ rsce-bounded sjm-
yatfaiaa, hvn had to do inimicalljr with the
VKied interests sad the temporal re!ation-
ships of bvmaniiy.
Traditiofial infloences snd the pettj pre-
ifflrrtitm of race do not confine themselves to
■al ezpreasBODS, for they hsre had the hardi-
hoad sad enei^ to manifest themselves in
SHne three or foar pages of negatire matter
JB tka |Rsent discnssioo, asanming to them>
aches the formidable appellation of** Veritas."
^Veritas ' does, indeed, bring before us some
sagas sppirebeBsiaiis snd mysterious hints ub
to the direful results of a practical recog-
aiiiw of the eligibilitj of the Jews for
pariiammtary duties, but thst is all. The
Mparatioo of church and state, which he
regards as a consequence, and from which he
sppehenda so much evil, is snticipsted by
sa iacreasiBg number amongst Episcopalians
tiicmsehres as something very desirable.
AfrtitL, how the oM^eration of the Jews
with the legislature can seriously affect the
denocratic interests of our country, we can
scarcely conceire. They might, possibly,
fnrt antagnnwtic to illiberal, sectarian,
sod daas h^islatioa, snd in this we should
itjoies. We csn scarcely imagine *' Veritas "
ti W cstraonlinarily grvre when be speaks
cf thi praiiability of national seryility en-
•MBg nua this eooeession to the Jews.
hnsgisi Engiaad with her sttsinments, her
and her poUtical position,
crouching beneath a nation scattered and
feeble! The Anglo-Saxon fire is to pale
before the self-inyoked fiiintness of the
Israelite life! A nation receptive and re-
flective of the illuminations of **tbe Sun
of righteousness," left to the mercy of those
that court a worse than Egyptian darkness,
rather than receive the " true light ! " And
then think of these results flowing from our
yielding to the Jew that which we believe to
be bis right, and which we cannot, without
moral injustice, withhold I The writer, baring
bent the necks of the " free-born English,**
should have placed the feet of Salomons or
Kothschild upon them, to have completed his
caricature of a jyoatibHitif. We may point
out a calamity he appeart» to have forgotten ;
not that we have any design of adding to
the intensity of his apprehensions, but that
his intelligent patriotism may induce him to
rouse the countiy immediately to its danger,
fiir we have the enemy in our camp and in
our counsels — Disraeli, — shorn it may be of
some ot the most obnoxious antecedents of
a Jew, yet still sufficiently connected with
that nation to be its " friend at court." And
if capacities and intentions be exerted so mis-
chievous to our nation as " Veritas " believes
to attend the Jew, as a necessary consequence
of his religious peculiarities, Berkshire ought
quickly to look for some other representative,
and London and Greenwich will shrink back —
the one into its fogs, the other into its park
aeclusiMi — abashed at their infatuation, under
the consciousness of which they will doubt-
less, with yet more profound hnmilitj, nn-
conditionally accept the guidance of those
" lords spiritual' who, with their compeers
of kindred interests, and like sentiments,
have shown how they intend to deal with
innovation upon their constitutional inherit-
ance.
We would now deal with " Veritas " inci-
dentally, as to the remainder of his antago-
nistic positions.
The Jew is looked upon by many as a
stranger and sojourner amongst a&*^ but \liVs
I
98
OUGHT THE JEWS TO BE ADMITTED TO PABLXAME2IT ?
is Dot 80 much his own view, for the national
relationships most obvious to the Jew are
such as connect themselves with his present
and personal history. The land of his birth
has manifold and eveiy-daj associations,
vleing in their minutla; and power with
that of the Gentile. His interests — com-
mercial, social, and political — are those of the
country he inhabits. He is a loyal subject,
a peaceful citizen, and, in some cases, is
high and active in municipal office. But
although he may be everything that a
citizen, a subject, and a neighbour should
be; and though, by virtue of his merits, he
is invested with municipal authority; yet his
religious peculiarities cause his repulsion
from a theatre of action where questions of
sect and creed ought never to be met with.
To dispute the rights of a Jew to a legis-
lative position, of course involves an inter-
ference with the rights of a people; and,
therefore, if the presence of a Jew in our
legislative assemblies be a contravention of
the sectarian and accidental phases of our
laws, to prohibit such presence is to do despite
to the broader, more sacred, and essential
principles of our constitution. To withhold
legislative rights from the Jew is also an
interference with the electoral rights of a
general constituency, and a government
which does this not only inflicts simple and
individual wrong, but violates the rights
and dignity of the English people, and per-
forms an act of unconstitutional power.
The Jew is the Christian's compeer and
co-equal in regard to all those rights and
dignities incident to the organization of
government amongst a people. They both
are similarly affect^ by the dependent nature
of a national administration, are similarly
related to its honours and powers, and their
interests being equally involved in its opera-
tions, their influence is equally legitimate,
and the performance of duties is equally the
business of both. Their creeds are at issue,
but these relate to their God. Their rights
are mutual, identical, and inter-dependent;
their social interests are common ; the ma-
chinery of government is the property of the
community, and of every individual of that
community.
In considering this question of the Jews*
admission into Parliament, there are many
who never think of going back to the true
jorindples of civil polity and government^
but they take that compound idea ** Jew,**
and see how it will agree with our church
and state constitution; and iinding that it
will by no means adapt itself, they (if some-
what philosophically disposed) search deeper,
and find that the results of its artificial
introduction would be the dissolution of the
incongruous components in the constitution
itself, and they summarily conclude that
reason, and wisdom, and religion, are all
against the Jew being treated as another man.
But are such actually ignorant, or obstinately
unmindful, of the truth, that an administra-
tion, free of all ecclesiastical elements, mind-
ful of the community, unmindful of the sect,
is the only government legitimate, equitably
and impartial, and therefore the only one
adapted to man ? Caesar and Csesar's govern-
ment have to do with man socially, not
religiously; with man politically, not eccle-
siastically; with man temporally, not eter-
nally ; and with man as related to his fellow-
raiui, not as related to his God. All argu-
ments gathered, then, from ecclesiastical
connexions are worth nothing, and it is only
such as come from legitimate and logical
sources that can at all affect the Jew's right
to take part in the counsels of the land of
his nativity; and such, we believe, to be
entirely wanting. It is his religious pecu-
liarity that precludes the Jew from the
legislative department of our government.
But the religious peculiarity of the Romaniit
is quite as obnoxious to our Protestant con-
stitution; that of the practical and intelli-
gent Dissenter is opposed to its ecclesiastical
character; and the Infidel is consciously and
boastingly antagonistic to all its religious
tendencies. The known Infidel, the Dissen-
ter, and the Romanist, occupy their seats,
but the Jew is not allowed his. Their
positions are similar, but the force of publie
opinion has obtained liberty for the first
three, but tyranny and injustice still do vio-
lence to the fourtL
Although the chosen medium of incal-
culable blessings to the Gentiles, the Jewish
people were expatriated, denationalized, and
forced to seek a refuge amongst the stranger
nations of the earth. It is, therefore, not
merely injustice, but injustice of the most
abominable and despicable nature, to deny
their descendants the common rights of a
oommtuiity. Their national aateeedents
aro a powerful plea for their gunttom wel-
OUOBT THE JEWS TO BE ADaflTTED TO PABUAMEMT?
99
ippartunitiw of adTancement, to
I of dignity and inflaence, a
» oflfer. Their long association,
«miait idoititj of their interest
liieB with the people amongst
iweU, constitute their authorita-
» all privileges of the nation.
m came anunagst ns as oppressors
len» Imt ve do not deny the
jr descendants. The Jews came
IS peaceful and hononrable men,
ts of their children, as English-
i fellow-members of this social
hftTe been withheld from genera-
imtioo, and are now most tena-
ited.
b solitarj slave; Mordecai and
lised captives; all of a hated
« jet, on the knowledge of their
, and on the conviction of their
pacities, raised hj idolatrons
M most important positions of
power and tmst. The Jewish religion had
always the over-shadowing of a terrible
omnipotence about it, which made men fear
for themselves and their gods; and their
idolatrous faith had nothi^ to fall back
upon against the religious influence of an
Israelite prime minister, except apprehension
and uncertainty; yet they put all real power,
all weighty national interests, into the Israel-
ite's hands. We, conscious of the new-bom
might of the phoenix Christianity, and intel-
ligent respectmg the absolute weakness of
the God-forsaken Judaism, do yet make our
apprehensions one ground for refusing the
Jew a place amongst our national councils;
we refuse him on the ground of certain
accidents in our constitutional embodiment,
the presence of those accidents being palpably
an enormous iniquity. We exclude the Jew,
although .the chosen representative of two
of the most important and enlightened con-
stituencies in the kingdom. W. G.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
d simply ask "Adelphos,** the
e affirmative of this question iu
Tj number, whether the sole
between an English Jew and |
Protestant or Boman Catholic
■s difference? *" If it is so, what
!S of that separate, yet not sub-
aUonality, which constitutes the
caliar people? " There is incor-
:h that religious difference a
lerence also, and it consists in
r faith necessitates tliem to look
any country save their own, as
. ftr the time being merely, and
hkh they are in daily expecta-
ig recalled. They believe, that
to which they belong shall yet,
now not how soon, be re-estab-
r the personal governance of the
rhmr sympat^es hover round
iwerer lightly we may esteem
in a religions view, politically
it assumes a large measure of
ftr the patriotism of a Jew
I land of his adoption must be
iadssd; this bond of union can
f viiU him to that country only |
Is nhimate hopes are centred.
MS of English Protestants are
■ Baflmd; so^ too, sre those of
Koman Catholics, although they do abcrate
slightly towards the pontificate.
We should like to bo very brief, and yet
we should like to place this qucstiou on the
broadest basis of which it is susceptible.
We submit the following statements towards
this end.
1st. The stronger and more numerous
the ties which unite a nation and its legis-
lators, the greater probability there is that
these legislators will act with fidelity to the
people.
2nd. The tics by which men are most
closely allied in civil relationship, are com-
mon descent, common faith, frequency of
intercourse, similarity of interests, and kin-
dredness of feelings and habits.
The Jew, belonging to a distinct race and
a different country, professing an adverse
faith and avoiding marital alliances, have
not — cannot have — that sympathy with the
people, that attachment to the country and
its customs, which would justify us intrust-
ing him with parliamentary privileges.
These are defects which are not surmount-
able, except by a renunciation of his religion,
his habits, and the aspirations natural to a
Jew regarding country — terms clearly im-
possible, and yet terms, his acquiescence in
which is essential before senatorial dignitiea
100
WOULD OOMMVinSM PBOMOTE THB HAPPINBaS OP MAN?
can be claimed for liim as a right, for with-
out such a radical change he cannot stand
aa the same footing as oar own candidates,
and it would be displaying an nnbecoming
partialitj for foreigners, as well as be in-
salting to the gentns of oar own country-
men, to give the precedence to the Jew,
unless there exists an eqnalitj on his part,
not to speak of a superioritj, thoagh one
might very properly do so. To ooanter-
balance these defects, the Jew ought to
]»8se8s qualities outshining those of En-
glishmen.
The writer already referred to proposes a
Beries of questions ending with the follow-
ing as an appropriate climax: — Is he (the
Jew) eminently notorious for dishonesty in
Ills mercantile and bosiness transactions?
" Adelphos " must have laughed to himself
while penning this sentence, knowing well
that no one feels at ease in dealing with a
Jew. We confess great deference to the
aphoristic wisdom of the nation which pro-
nounces the Jews to be a people prone to
overreach. The specious queries of " Adel-
]4ios " are completely answered by asking
antithetically, Is the Jew a better citizen?
Has he been more faithful to the trust
reposed in him as sheriff, alderman, justice
of the peace, &c. ? If not, then no supe-
riority has been established ; but superiority
must be established, else the objections urged
are not overcome — a satisfactory reason has
still to be adduced for preferring a Jewish
legislator.
"Adelphos" further says, "They (the
Jews) would absent thonselres from debates
on church questions." If their religious ten-
dencies are likely to have this effect, better
retain the disabilities. Englishmeo are not
wanting who can deliberate on such qae»>
tions without being under any necessity of
shirking their duties. We are not illiberal.
Surely it will be conceded that the candi-
date who can best further public basinets is
the one who should be elected. We wonld
infinitely rather have persons pn^essing the
most heterodox opinions to share in ear
national councils, than admit Jews, and this
too not withont reason: the former being
allied to the country by numerous tin, €/Btt
a guarantee that the confidence we repose ib
them will not be abused; but we most say
we fear the malign influence of Jewi^
wealth.
An important trust is placed in the hands
of electors, as they choose representatives,
not for themselves only, but for the masses
who do not enjoy the franchise privilege; it
therefore becomes them to employ that txiut
warily, that they may not compromise the
national interests by the choice of Jewish
members.
Abistides.
iDrinl €rnnnini[.
WOULD CO^IMUNISM PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAN ?
NE6ATITS ARTICLE.— III.
AcCEPTino U. M.'s definition of Com-
munism, viz., that it is *' that principle
wliich would render common property to the
entire human family the earth and all
things which from time to time are produced
from it, whether they be animal, vegetable,
or mineral, and which would, at ihe same
time, render the production of them common,"
we purpose in this article pointing out the
injustice, impolicy, and immorality of that
principle, and consequently its utter incapa-
bility to promote the happiness <]£ the human
family ; and, in conclaai<»i, briefly to glance
af the respective articles of U. M. and L. I.
in support of the aiHrmative side of this
interebtiug question.
We are first to show the injustice of the
Communistic principle, which would make
all animate as well as inanimate matter
conunon property — the productions of all
the property (consequently) of all.
No two men are constituted alike; with
the powers of mind or body, with fike eaer-
gies of disposition, with the like capabilitiet
in producing property — the effect of labooSt
The capabilities, and the labour, are thi
individual's; consequently their prodoct—
property — should be the individuals also.
WOULD COMXUMISX PBOMOTB TUB HAPPIXBS8 OK MAX?
101
rbe caiu0 is the indiTiduAl s, tku effwt U
tJie intiiTMlaal'*. Upou Uii« priiu:iple socivty
aqn it« vi^rj comxnencenieiit has act«d ; this
princi]4i' is soond io theory and sound iu
Our eans tin^rlc with tlxe smldvn '* llold
hard ! ^ of our opponent.*. *' We deny the
midoett of the principle. The labour, say
n, should be theoommunity's: consequently
tlie property should be the oonununity'salH)."
Indeed it if time for us to draw tight the |
Fans of our onward-speedin;; senhes ; for
«c percnre that at this early stap:e of our
jomey lies the objei^t we are pursuing — the
cUcf point at issue lK*tweeu us, vis. — Whose
frapHty should an indiriduars labour be, Ids
wrn or the comniunitT's ?
m
Sa|ipos« an indiridual to be wrecked on
n is^ukl uninhabited by man. Fortiuiately
for him he has been able to save from the
Tivck a few frrains of com and an implement
•jf two of husbandry. He tills the soil, sows
Mi ooni. and in due time reaps tlie han-est ;
UTBij:. in the meantime, upon such animal
tod Te?etable productH as he has bec'n able
ti> discover. He labours himself, for him-
ael^ and the product of his labour — p-o-
poty — is his own. After a time, a pvty
<4 individuals are wrecked upon the same
idand. Would it be just or rif;ht for them
ti> take possesKion of the plot of land cul-
tirated by the tirst comer, and make it and
it» pmdncts conmion property? Would their
arn^-al make the labour of the primary
•xttipont any the less Ids own property?
3m« at all. The cultivated plot should rc-
niaiu inviolate the property of the first
'iccnpant, who had expended labour upon it;
ttd the new arrivals should ^ forth and
sdkdae tlie land in like manner, receinng
that kindiv assistance from the former which
m
Ui rrlipoa and his nature would prompt
Ms to give.
No one, wc think, will deny the sonudness
of the principle here laid down.
Time spcds on, and the patriarch of
th^ island is on his death-bed. But not
^me. A manly youth, his eyes moist with
tisfa, han^ avn him. He is tlie fruit of
lW dyioi; man*! mairiage with one of the
MHBd eomen. The love of the old man
kHM Ibrth Crooi eyes soon to be closed in
doth; and a floik pUyin^ round his mouth
Niajg am inwaid contentment and happi-
ly Be dfai; and his weeping sun stands
the possessor of that Liml, extended and
improved, on which the old man had spent
so much weary labour. A cottage, furnished,
rudely indeed, in his also, likewise the etfect
of his lather's hibour. Will any of our
opponents question the right of the son to
this property ? Cim they argue tliat it
should liave devolved uinmi the community?
Who liad so sood a right to it as the father s
own son ? Would the old man equally have
delighted as much in planting thut>e hedgef,
iu building that cottage, in inaimfacturing
those chairii, those tables, those ]»Uitter8,
those drinking vesselti, liad he known that
they would, on his death, have become the
property of the coiunmnity? Wc venture
to answer, No! We venture to assert that
it was a father's love that stiinuhited him
to labour so energetically, and with such
effect. Who shall dare assert that the
happiness of his di^ath-bcd was not one of
the rewards of his toil ! Who shall say
that the smile-educing agent was not tlie
knowledge that his labour had not been in
vain, for it had blessed his son whom ho
loved I WIkmm blood does not IxhI at the
thought of a stranger's shadow hereafter
darkening the doorway of that cottage, of a
stranger feeding at that board off the fat of
that land ? And is this feeling the r^ult
simply of e<Iucation ? Surely not ! Surely
it is the restdt of a principle iinjilauted in
our nature; for have we not found that from
tlie very b^inniiig it hiis bi'en so — from the
very iirst the child lias stood in its parent 's
sh^)eii ?
And has not this hypothetical case a
parallel in reality ? Is it nut an exam]ilH
of the manner in which the soil of the earth
bas become the prop<*rty of individuals?
Yes I Occupancy gave the original right to
all landed property.
We hold, then, that we have established
the justice of the claim to the soil by occu-
pani'y, and to other pn^perty by inheritance;
and therefore any principle, as that of Com-
munism, which denies this right, is unjust
in its effects.
We have said above that men are not
constituted alike, that they do not poescM
equal capabilities of producing property.
A. can prodnce such a property in ten hours
as would take B. fifteen hours to pro luce,
and yet in a society of Commmiists B. wonld
be as well off as A. " Very good,'' 'JOVKUct
102
WOULD COMMUNISM PROMOTE THE HAPPINBSS OF MAS f
our opponents ; " if A. possesses better capa-
bilities than Bm inasmuch as his capabilities
belong to society (for, as the productions of
his capabilities belong to society, so his
capabilities — that is, their use — must belong
to society also), so he ought to exert them
to the utmost for society's benefit, in the
same manner that B. exerts his as far as he
is able, and yet rec«vc only the same amount
of compensation." For the sake of argu-
ment, granted. But what guarantee have
you that B.'s lesser capabilities are not the
result of idleness wliilst learning his busi-
ness, or of wilfully working in a wrong
manner? Or, how know you that he does
not really possess equal capabilities with A.,
only he is too idle to exert them ? Such
may be, and such undoubtedly but too often
would be, a result of the Communistic prin-
ciple. A., a clever and industrious man,
would receive no greater remuneration for
his services than B., a stupid and idle man.
Tills our opponents must admit to be an
evil, and a great injustice.
But this brings us to our next point, viz.,
that the Communistic principle is impolitic.
This, we think, can be easily hhovvTi. It
would prove a barrier to all progression,
by removing that great incentive to exertion,
the accumulation of property. Had not the
old man of the island a right to the land he
-had cultivated, to the cottage he had built,
and to the furniture he had made, we believe
•he would have cared but little to have
laboured so diligently upon them. And had
not society in general the same stimulus to
exertion, we believe it likewise would care
but little to produce anything beyond what
was necessary to its immediate wants. We
believe that in time society would become
little more than a food, clothes, and shelter
producing community; with no knowledge
of science, and with no works of high art.
How has the knowledge we possess of che-
mistry been, for the most part, acquired?
By hard, close, life-devoted, non-self-sup-
porting labour in the laboratory: and the
seeker may have been rewarded by the dis-
covery of one truth of practical benefit in a
life-time. Would the community consent
to support the alchemist, whose labour is of
such a non-producing quality ? We trow
not. How, again, would it be with the
astronomer, the traveller, the mechanist —
rroa)d sodtij support them a life-time, in
return for the chance of the discorery of a
new planet, of a new land, of a new piece
of machinery ? Again our answer is, wo
believe not. There is no certain reimm to
labours qf this nature, at the same time that
their pursuit costs not only labour but money
and material too.
Again, as Communism compels an equality
of education, would it be found that A. B. C.
and D. would consent to labour, respectively,
in the field, in the mine, in the dockyard, in
the manufactory, whilst E. F. G. and H.
laboured respectively in the office, in the
studio, on the bench, in the parliament
house ? We think not. We believe that
Communism would lead to endless heart-
burnings and discontent. It would engender
the feeling that I, A. B., perform labour
costing much more exertion than that of
C. D., and yet I am no better off. If these
things be true, the impolicy of the Commu-
nistic principle is evident.
Of its immorality we will say but little;
indeed it is a point upon which we dare
hardly venture.
Carry out the principles of Communism
to their natural and legitimate ends, and
they necessitate a total overthrow of the
present existing relations of man to woman.
Communism would make woman comnHm
property; all children would then be com-
mon property also. This, horrible as it may
be to contemplate, is but the natural eflfcct
of Communism. Let woman, as now, be
the property of one man, and the offspring,
during its minority at least, is their joint
property, to educate to fill any station in
society they may please. And should it
not be so ? Or should the community have
the power of stepping in between the child
and its parent: of saying, ^^thus and thus
shalt thou bring it up; these religious, these
social, these moral principles shalt thou instil
into it ? " Or worse still, should the com-
mimity, with ruthless hand, crying aloud,
" My property ! my property !'* have the power
of snatching the sleeping infant from its
mother's breast, or from its father^s knee ?
Should the community have the power of
thus rudely severing all those fond ties with
which nature has bound together the child
and its parents ? Would it be better that
the community should soothe the bed and
close the eyes of its departing members?
Or would a loving child perfonn the offioe
WOULD COMMUNISM PIIOMOTE THE HAPPIMESS OF MAN?
103
')•!» tcnderlj? Bat the child knows not its
parent; *ttt the oommunity's proportj, the
oznmnnitT's offspring !
Upcm this point we will dwell no longer,
TTflduT believing th«t our friends U. M. and
L L nerer for one moment contemplated the
hmrible idea (too horrible to be spoken of
^ithoat a shudder) of woman and woman's
idfepriuj; becoming common property.
We hare endeavoured to show that Com-
'HQDisini is anjust. impolitic, and immoral in
■:s tendencies : whether wc have succeeded
'T Wit, our readers will be able to judpje; but
if Te have, it requires no argument to de-
riKOstrate that a principle which tends to
M much evil cannot promote the happiness
ii max
With a brief glance at the respective
li^ia of U. M. and L. I., we will cI(M»e this
ajwdy, we fear, too lengthy article.
U. it lays down three propositions, which
V endeavours to substantiate. The first is,
"That the earth and all that is produced
f^Dffl it by the labour of man, onght to be
'^ounon property." In support of this he
irnrs that God made the eartli for the use
t man; made it possessed of ^ an intrinsic
^i^op,* as it contains "the elements of
vcahh,'* and as that value was given to it
■•J God for the use of man in general, no
i^ridnal can have an exclusive claim to it.
In answer we say, that the inherent wealth
-< the «ioil is made available by labour.
HiDce the labourer causes the soil to bring
forth its treasure, and consequently that
treai«ure should become his property, to
demand a eonsidcration, in the shape of
rent, from the next occupant, for the im-
provement he has etfectod in it.
His second propa^ition is, ** That every
able-bodied man ought to perform his share
of labour." Freely admitting the soundnesa
of this principle, we humbly submit that
we have aln'ady shown that tins object is
not obtained by Communism.
His last projjosition, viz., " That a com-
munity of labour and its results would bo
for the happiness of mankind in general," is
in fact the whole (|uestion at issue between
us; and thervforc we apprehend that it re-
qidres, in this place, no special answer, as
its refutation has been the aim of the whole
of this article.
The chief point of L. I.'s argument ia
that a body of Communists — the Moravians-
have been able to effect a great deal of good.
Whether this result can fairly be attributed
to the working of the Comnmnistic principle
or not, wo have not time to go into. But,
we beg to remark, tliat the results of Com-
mtmism applied to a small body of men,
united in principle and object, and the result
of the principle applied to society at large,
would be by no nu.':ms necessarily the same.
We have then, for the reasons above ad-
vanced, come to the conclusion that Com-
mmiism would not promote the happiness of
man. F. F.
AFFIKMATIVE ARTICLE.- III.
he order satisfactorily to answer this ques-
tia, it will be necessary briefly to inquire,
£m!y, what Communism and its professed
■Irject in; seeoodly, what the evils are which
it propoees to remedy; and, thirdly, if by its
jcacdcal adoption the happiness of man
voqM be promoted.
lA C<»Dmiinism is that principle which
9^tk^ to restore the primal rights of man-
kind, by abrogating all claims to tlie posses-
iMo of private property ; and to secure the
ffptl rights of all men to develop their
mtfmd fKolties, bj establishing a com-
Mity of goods and a concerted combination
tf dbct amongst all classes of society. Com-
BiOHm being a principle of union and
e^odtj, its objaet eonteqnently is to ovcr-
tfanw tlio doifotic ijrnomy of monopoly, and,
by uniting opposing interests, to succeed in
breaking down the barriers of castej and in
eradicating that spirit of sly distrust which
now reigns paramount in society; and thus,
by promoting free intercourse amongst all
men, pioneer the way for the realization of
that pure and loveable Christianity which it
was the glorious mission of Christ to teach.
2nd. In order to elucidate our next pro-
position, we must briefly glance at the present
condition and aspects of society.
The present age has been not inappro-
priately called the *' buccaneer stage of labour
and civilization." For are not all classes
arrayed against each other by dint of opposing
interests? Is not commerce, as at present
conducted, a trick — a mere spedes of gam-
bling? Is not wealth becoming gradnaUy
104
WOULD roSIMU.XISM PROMOTK TUB HAPPUfKSS OF MAX?
monopolized ia the hands of the favoured
few, and the gulf between the richer and
poorer cUwes every day widening ? Is it
not a fact, that while, by increased mechanical
invent iond, the power of production being
thereby indefinitely increased, the labourer
has gnidually sunk in the scale of social de«
gradation; and, instead of having leisure to
cultivate his intellectual, moral, and religious
capacities, he is engaged *' in a round of toil,
sleep, and animal relaxation, which presents
(indeed admits of) no gleams of high and
holy thought?*' Again: "In Great Britain
there are 70,000 persons who possess among
them an annual revenue of £200,000,000,
or about £2,800 a year each ; on the
average, our paupers, criminals, and vagrants,
number 2,000,000; and 17,000,000 depend
on wages; while of these there are annually
about 100,000 mechanics and labourers out
of employ. In the presence of a tremendous
growth of evils like these, is not our position
most ominous?*'* To what cause may be
attributed the existence of the above evils,
other than to the private property system^
which, by giving birth to a grasping spirit
of selfishness, not only deprives thousands of
their just rights, but threatens to undermine
the social fabric ? Let our opponents answer.
Keeping the preceding facta in view, how
absurd docs the following statement, from the
pen of J. N., appear: — " Be it our task to
show that the realization of these (Commu-
nistic) principles in practice would plunge
us into difficulties tenfold more harassing ( ?)
than the evils complained of in our present
state." Whether he has duly performed his
task the intelligent reader will decide.
In making the preceding observations, we
would not be understood as sounding the
tocsin of alarm, by proclaiming the " deca-
dence of England," but as simply endeavour-
ing to show the necessity of a great social
change; for we believe that the evils enume-
rated are to be traced rather to the operation
of causes none of which indicate national de-
cline; hence we conclude, in the words of an
able writer in the Edinburgh Review^ " that
the world can never have been intended to
be, and will not long remain, what it is."
did. Having shown the evils which Com-
* ** The Age and iU ArchiteoU," by E. P. Hood,
p. 76 ;— « work to wbicb the writer is indebted for
much valuable hiftmnation in relation to the
munism proposes to remedy, we will now show
how, by its practical adoption, the happineM
of man would be promoted.
Its fundamental principle bein;; that all
property, all talent, all strength, all leaminjTr
all labour, is but a trust finom God, to be
applied fur the benefit of all, it follows that
the energies of ail in a Communistic state
would be directed and onployed, not to ad-
minister to an exclusive spirit of selfibhness
— not to crush the weak and favour the
strong — but in drawing out the kindly syra-
patliies of human nature, by furnishing the
means of physical, intellectual, and mors!
development, and thus promoting the happi*
ness of man.
But, says C. W., Jun., this is " too visionary
to be productive of really beneficial results."
What I "can men unite to erect bridges, to
construct railroads — ay, and to destroy one
another in war — and yet not coalesce to make
one another happy? Then, indeed, is the
history of human progression well nigh cloeed,
and the regeneration of man a vain hope!"
One thing, however, is certain, that Chris-
tianity in connexion with competition can be
but a meaningless word, the import of which
can only be fully realized in that state of
society where unity of interest binds man to
man in the silver bond of universal brothor-
hood; and yet this is that state at whicii
the " sympathies" of J. N. " revolt." Com-
munism, in seeking to infuse a spirit of vital
warmth and christian energy into the present
cold, selfish, and gold-worshipping system, h
by C. W. pronounced " visionary ;" and J. N.
has " no faith in its practicability." But,
however " visionary" the Communistic prin-
ciple may appear ^ by that eternal law of
progress which will at last rectify every
wrong, and vindicate the equal rights of men,
the social dependence of one man upon another
must cease, as befits the brethren of one family
whose origin and destiny are the same.
Having shown that Commimism would
promote the happiness of man, wa will novr
present our n^ders with an extract from
the writings of Mr. James Silk Buckingham,
to show that it is capable of being practwalhf
realized. After spending a day in TisitiBi;
the Rappite Community, in America, in the
year 1839, he says: — " Our last thought, oa
closing the day, was aa to the contrast of hap-
pineas and virtue which this conrnmnitj of
dOOt pcrMnf presented, when compared whfa
APVICB TO STUDBKTS.
105
aj other oommnnitj, •f the Mine Dumber
and extent, in eny part of the world; and
nj eonrictioD wu, that there was nothing
■ipncticable to prerent the formation of
■Hilar oooumimtiMS.''
Wt will nofw endeavoar to cope with one
flr two of the principal objections ni^ed bj
J. X. He aajs, " Whatever social form we
idipt, we moat accept hnman nature as it
k* Troa: but 4i—iaii uatmre is one thing,
ud its wtami/iutaiioiu are another : in the
CM case it is ever the same ; whihtt in the
fldicr. chameleoo-Iike, it is ever and anon
■Maiog Dew aspects, the result of subjective
'iBamrra. for " men are as moch infloenced
■d eootrolled bj the social sjstem in which
thiy lift, ss a raft is bj the current in which
it ikutt.** Hence the importance of sur-
tffmm nahtre with good social
He also sajs that ^ the upholders
flf Comaranism take a too favoorahle view of
hmaa nature.** We thank him for the
eoBplimeDt. He also urges that, "■ reason as
«e Baj, fnoi iniancj to age, man clearlj
Biaifrstshis altachmentto private property."
• G. Coi&be's ** Morml PhiloK^pby."
Qaerj, Does a mere ^ attachment" confer a
claim of possession? He also a^ks, " If that
motive (tear) to action be withdrawn, what
shall secure us against a relapse into bar*
barism?" We answer, that motive which
induces to activity in one degree of develop-
ment is inoperative in tliat of another.
Hence, in proportion to the progressive de-
velopment of human nature, so will it be
inflnenced by higher motives to activity,
until "conecience or re/lection^'* to quote
Butler, assume "that absolute authority
which is due to it." So that a ^ reUpse into
barbarism" may be said to be impoesible. In
relation to the " unworkableness " of Com-
munism, mentioned by J. N., we believe that
as practice develupes the advantages of the
system, and exposes its weak points, the
former will become increased, the latter
remedied, until the principle has been carried
to the greatest extent to which it can sub-
serve human happiness.
We have now followed J. N. thronph his
principal arguments, and not wisliing to ex-
haust the patience of the reader, we make
our bow and retire.
Homo.
^t hm\m' Ifrtian.
ADVICE TO STITDENTS.
SEFJt to attain the power of mastering the mind, for this is the foundation of all mental
£sdpline. This mental exercise is the groundwork of character. He who enters upon
k seriously, under a sense of its supreme importance— who trains himself to habits of
and atrictly voluntary thinking — who holds a stem control over the subjects to
his thoagbts are habitually directed, guiding them to the worthy, and putting away
tW frivoloas, the d^adinig, and the impure, — that man among you will attain to
p, for he is pursuing with all his might the highest of all earthly interests— the
of tJia aonobling £Mnltiet of mind, and the discipline of the heart. Gather know-
Mge hf 9wtrj meaoi in your power, and seek it in every path. Knowledge is obtained by
«biiiilkwi; cultivate, then, the power of attention. Let nothing escape you unobserved;
b an car, all cje, all grasp. Knowledge is obtained by reading: but read wisely and
id; jBaka dfeoice only of the best of books, read few, but all that are necessary, and
■iki tkeir eontcats jonr own. Knowledge is obtained by thinking: combine facts, so as
ti i«hea priociplei from them ; invigorate your minds by independent contemplation and
I; kan to form joond opiniooa fur yourselves, and train your minda to that proper
viiMli itcmpa atrength and character on thought. Knowledge if obtained by
106 ON LKARNnro T^AKGUAQB.
experimenting: much of the insiraetkm which yon will receiTe from leehiret and from
anthors, 70a can only rightly appreciate through personal experimentation. Knowledge is
acquired by conrersation : learn to converse wisely; glean in conTeraation the knowledge
which springs from the obsenration, reading, and reflection of other people, and strengthen
the hold of yoor own information by imparting it to others. Knowledge is acquired by-
recording: keep yonr knowledge from perishing; make it infallibly correct by recording
your facts and thoughts. Knowledge is acquired by. the practice of composition: leara
early to fix, regulate, and multiply yonr ideas, by writing; incroase the rotentive power of
your minds, and acquiro perspecuity and correctness by this exercise; arrange all yonr
professional knowledge in manuscript, so that you may know exactly the amount of your
store, and the more easily weed out your errors. You will get knowledge in vain unless
you combine facts so as to draw from them general principles. Gultivate good principles
as long as you live; be never weary of the pleasures of science. Bewaro of the approach
c/f that soro delusion— that you have done enough. '* Nil actum repiUans^siquidmperesset
Qgendum." Profit by the ancient proverb— "5ui cuique mores conciUaiU fortunasn /"
" manners make the man;" and wipe away every fault in your demeanour. Aoqnin right
principles, generous sentiments, and an unoompromising adheronce to truth; and by good
examples acquiro the essential rules of good breeding — " in honour preferring one another.**
Adopt the feelings and bearing of gentlemen ; and, as good manners aro better taught by
example than by precept, associate with those distinguished by elevation of mind, sound
principle, and good behaviour. Acquire a ready sense of the quod decet and decorum e^t,
and indulge in no unseemly peculiarity. The student for whom I have the most hope,
who, in my opinion, will attain honourable distinction in his profession, is the youth who
enjoys a satisfaction altogether independent of immediate reward or of prospective advan>
tage, in passing through the arduous paths of science; who possesses that sound and
healthy condition of tho mental faculties which enables him to take for his motto
*^ Labor ipse volnptas.** — Extract from a Lecture by Dr. Waits, ^f Mancktsler,
ON LEARNING LANGUAGE.
Izr studying language, it is important to remember that words are but the ontwmrd
expression of what passes in the mind; and though the things which the mind can busy
itself about are innumerable, tiie ways in which it can deal with them and put them forth
in speech are few and limited. Language, in fact, may be compared to a wood with innu-
merable trees, but one well-trodden broad path through it, which in ninety-nine cases out
of a hundred will lead the traveller right; there are also bye-paths leading to particular
spots, and Uie pathless wood with plenty of scope for wandering and being lost. Suppose
then, a stranger brought into this wood, and desiring to pass through it The only
sensible advice that oonld be given him would be, " Keep to the main road, beware of the
thickets, avoid entangling youiself in bye-palhs or short cuts, till you are thoroughly
acquainted with the general features and bearing of the country." Can any way, then, of
teaehing language be right, which is not analogous to this ? Ought not all the curioaities
sod exceptions to be passed over unexplained, until the common every-day fnmework of
ox LSARXING LANOUAOE. 107
seoteocn, the bwten path that is, be well known ? It will be time enough then
to explain and point out the apparent deriationa and inoonslBtencies. But this is the exact
coBtiaiy of the method usnallj panned. The mind of the unhapp7 learner is sta£fed
vi& all maimer of exceptions long before he clearlj knows what thej are exceptions to;
aad with idioms conntless, long before he is aware what is the general tjpe from which
tfarr 8Mm to depart. His bewildered brain is set floating amongst numbers of isolated
cues, and nncomiected facts; there is only one omission, unfortunate!/ rather an important
Qoe, no chart ox compass is given him for his guidance.
Lei ererj teacher (who knows such things himself) boldlj resolve to notice nothing till
Us popOs are thoronghly acquainted with the common principles of all language. There
iriO bs less show for a time, but more safetj. Men with a certain reputation as scholars
Doi unfirequentlj cannot give the principle of the simplest step in their parrot-lilce know-
ledge. How often, for instance, it is said, he is a very clever man himself, but he cannot
teadk othen. In plain English, he has never been taught the principles of his knowledge,
be lus aot thonght them out for himself. The result is obtained by unceasing practice,
and as that is inconminnicable, others cannot benefit by it. Blind men can feel their way
akog £Miiiliar paths, but are unable to give directions to others' sight.
Kiow the stady of language may be looked at in two points of view; first, what language
itidf is; and, secondly, how we ourselves should behave with respect to it. The one being
as it were the road to be travelled — the other, directions for travelling on it well. A few
cb^emtiaDS on this second point will not be out of place here. First, then, let no teacher
«r learner pass beyond a technical or general term, such as subjecty &c., until it has become
liis own natural way of expressing the thing signified by it. It would be no more absurd to
have duly lesstma about the Omithorynchus, those engaged in such lessons being totally
ifDiH^ant of the sort of animal meant, than it is to use such terms as subject daily, with a
bwSImt ignorance. Very often a careful examination would detect some foolish after-mistake,
or even habitnal mental confusion, as having arisen from the practice of using technical and
gneni terms without realizing their full meaning. No time is misspent which clears the
general terms and first steps. Probably, few National school classes would thoroughly
master those two terms. Subject and Predicate, without at least a month^s careful training.
To give such training without being wearisome is in itself an art. My own method was,
^ea the short reading lesson was ended, to select an easy sentence to be written down by
OM ni the boys on the black board ; then the writing and spelling was criticised by the
das; after that, the subject and predicate of that sentence were required, with the reasons
hr die answers ; then we left it, and proceeded to build up the sentence on which we were
Rgolariy engaged. Every lesson having one special point as its main object ; this one
paiat, with the summing up at intervals the chain of argument, and recapitulating day by
^Uk ftnner links, being quite sufficient to occupy the whole time, and as much as could
W itm with profit to a class; the first maxim of good schooling being, not to sacrifice the
pid of the many to the quickness of a few.
Hcfing deared the terms made use of, the next great aid in difficulties will be to observe
^ iRMiple on which the words of every sentence are arranged. Now in every sentence
"<ttMf ySnl tits t# oertoM, that the words which will most clearly and forcibly introduce
^ MtiM wittt the ipeiker wishes to make known, toiU come first ; and the rest follow,
to iti nittire importance. It is probabkf therefore, in any aentenc^ \VAb\. >^
108 ox LBABHIHO ZiAHOUAOB.
subject stands first; because wbat the speech is to be about most geoecsUjr be meRtisQed
first for cfsomeBf ' sake ; and without cletamets nothing can he/ordble. Viewed separatdjy
the pretticate, or what is intended to be said, is generallj the principal notion; and, there-
fore, if ybros alone were the question, to put the predicate first would generally be the
moBiJorcibk, But caxe must be taken, lest the apparent gain inybros of this arrangement
be mora than oounterbalanoed hj the loss of elMntest* This brings out the ralue of
^ifrmal cases. When a language has formal ca$es, it gains the power of vaiying the
arrangement of a sentence almost infinitelj, without confusion, aooording to the reUtive
importance of the thoughts to be expressed. Thus in the sentence, '* C«8ar killed Pom-
peius," if the notion required to be expressed most strongly was, that it was P<myfenu who
was killed, a Latin boldly put it first: —
Pompeium Caesar interfecit,
Pompey Cssar killed ;
and no confusion ensues. In English this can seldom be, unless the predicate conaista oT
the verb of existence, and an adjective; as, ** Great it Diama of (he Ephetiwu ; '* whero
any one can see the increase of force resulting from the poeition of the predicate. The
English language, however, has a plan for getting the predicate first in some instances^
The words " /f," and " There^ at the beginning of sentences, are often false subfecf^^
mere subterfuges for getting the predicate first in the arrangement. Thus —
Subject.
'' It is a good thing — to save a man," equalling, ** To save, &c., is.**
Subject.
** There is no hope — that he will do it," equalling, " His doing it is hopeless."
Therefore the words " /it,'* and '* There,"* are as it were sign-posts, pointing out tbLai
the predicate follows immediately, whilst the subject comes last In English, then, if tl^^i
first word is /<, or There, or an adjective with the vwb of existence, the predicate is gex^o
rally first in the arrangement, and the subject last. It is obvious that when pronoo.!:^
occur, as they have formal cases, there is much mwe liberty of arrangement, aa no C4>t)
fusion can ensue. Any dependent noun, however, can be put first as the subject, 1^
casting the sentence into a passive shape; as, " Pompey was killed by Cesar." This i.^
common way in English of getting the emphatic word first.
Again, in examining a sentence, if there is any difficulty, whatever conjecture oik -t.!
point appears most probable, it can be tested in the following manner. Let the lestx-^^^
instead of the word or words which are diffionlt, substitute others easier, which oet-fcK^a^
are, what he conjectures the expression he doubts about to be. Thus, in the aeat^^^^^
" Witt he come fast f" say he thinks ^'fatr an adverb, but is in doubt; let him «^
stitute an unmistakeable adverb; for instance, ^^ quickly :" if that which is snbsti^v^^
exactly fills the grammatical place of the original expression, the ootyeoture is pcaS^i^i
right; if it does not, it must be wrong.
Again, there is a difiicnlt sentence to be mastered ; how many let iJieir minds float ^Vkh
at nadom over it; and unless they find it out by some sudden flash, do nothing,
of (Jus, let the kamer seise at onee on some point be is certain, or neariy certain,
say the nl^ject, or the principal verb of the predicate; and try whether the rest
0!T UL\IlimrO LAVOUAOE. IQQ
irith this, and makes aenae. It ia very leldom, indeed, that both fnbject and predicate
are difficnit to nnrarel in the same sentence. At all events, let him examine whether
there ia mon than one word that eon be a predicate, or more than one word that can be a
sohjcct; let him decide as to which shall be his certainty; say the subject b, then what
vcri can possibly form the predicate? Is it transitive? If so, where is the case? Is
tkt ease qualified? and so on; adding, by d^^rees, the rest till all coheres. This, then, is
a nik. Let all uncertainties be tried as to their agreement with some certainty. If there
ii so oertainiy, let the most probable gnoss be assumed as certain for the experiment.
Afain, it ia a great thing to know what the difficulty really is, and where. AVhen this
is foond, let all words, or cUuses, be put out of sight for the time, excepting the word, or
tgnbrnatioB, that is pozzling. This often clears the matter. As an assistance in doiqg
this, let it be borne in mind, that whenever a relative occurs, it is certain that the clause,
in winch the relative is, is a complete sentence in itself, as far as grammatical construction
goes; and therefore will not influence grammatically any other part of the sentence. In
anv dxficolty then, that clause may be set apart, and shut out from the rest, and examined
srpsntely.
Very often the difficulty arises firom some part uf a sentence not being before the eye,
bat ondentood. Let every clause therefore, when this is the case, be \rritten out with its
{bD eopiptemcnt of words. This often clears the matter.
Again, much ignorance arises from rules being allowed to He about in the mind as mere
drr statements. This should never be permitted. Let the learner always frame ybr hiM'
mif an actual speech or formula, the easiest possible, which is nn example of the rule, to
trr hid doi^tfol cases by. Thus, if the rule is : Every pure supposition will have both
riaascs subjuDctive with past tenses of the auxiliary verbs, or verb of existence, let him
cive it life by having a model supposition to refer to; as, *'//*/ trereybo/z'M, I skotUd
Imrm the ruleg UJbe a parraC Or if a question is asked on any point, let him at once
Bake a sentenee which represents the required instance, and examine that ; tliis plan will
— iiDuusly tend to the producing an answer. Thus, say the question is asked : " Explain
Hkt arrangement of a sentence which begins with the word There.** Let him at once
viite dewn saeh a sentence, and examine it; and so on.
Lei, thofcfbie, all uncertainties be tested by some certainty, real or assumed.
Let the difficulty be hunted out, and everythfaig else put aside till that is cleared.
Let the suppressed words of a sentenee, if needful, be filled in.
Let all ndcs have reality given them by being embodied in the form of single examples.
Sent let technical, or general terms, be passed over until they are completely under-
Xevcr let the mind float about at random; but let it be fixed at once on some one thing
tiUvtwith.
IWse rules, regularly acted on, will carry the learner through most labyrinths securely.
-!«. EdtDord Thing, M,A.
110
RBPORTS OP mnrUAL UfPROYBUKaiT BOCimiES.
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
SpaUUnff.—Touna Men't Mutual Impnmement
Soctety. — The members of this umA&I and vala-
atile iaslilalion oeMmtail their aerenth aDniver-
sary by a public aoixve in the Town Hall, on
Friday evening, Januarr 9th. There waa a Tery
large attendance, the hall being crowded in ev«ry
part. The orchestra was occupied by several
profeaaional and amateur instrumentalists, whose
performances contributed much to the cbeerfVil-
ness of the meeting. After tea the chair waa
tdcen by Mr. George F. Barrell, the president,
who gave a slight sKCtch of the early history of
the society, ana stated that the first two annual
meetings were held in private houites, and that
the tot^ expense of ttie first one was only dt. M.
Be referred to the fact that each individual was
the centre of a circle of social influence that was
most powrrftil in influencing the minds and
hearts of his friends. Man was essentially a so.
oial being; and therefore, intuitively seeking
firiendship, he was adapted for the interchange of
sentiment by his various faculties; but, as the
common intercourse of every-day life was not
fitted K) be the medium of all kinds of conversa-
tion, various means had been adopted to supply
this deftcL lu the earlier ages of the worid
there were the " wise men," who were consulted
upon every occasion, and whose extensive know-
ledge was, in those dark ages, looked upon as
supemataral; as society advanced, books par-
feiaJly supplied the ^lace of the wise men ; but it
was not until the mvention of that triumph of
man's ingenuity — the press — that their influence
became sensible, and when, as if to invest the
mighty machine with double importance, the
Bible blessed it in being the first book printed.
As society progressed, so the means bettme in-
adequjute to the end, when, as a bright sun to
illuminate the world, the newspaper arose to dis-
pel the mist of exdusiveness, and, by its powers
of discussion and criticism, to confine to its
proper sphere the airogance of authorship, and
show to ue people not only one, but many views
of the same thing ; but in these davs newspapers
had been found insufficient to supply the growing
demand for information, and to quench the burn-
ing thirst for knowledge. Other means had
therefore been added in clubs, atheniaums, mecha-
nics' institutions, and last, but we hope not least,
mutual improvement societies ; and on behalf of
the one whose anniversary they had met to cele-
brate, he made an earnest appeal. Addresses
were afterwards delivered by Messrs. Foster,
George, Brown, Walden, Pepper, Locke, Johnson,
South, Woods, &c. It is worthpr of notice that
all the speaker* were members of the aodet^, and
all nnder twenty-four years of age. This fkct
does the society great cnpdit, for, so ter as we can
judge from the report which has reached us, all
the addresses were excellent We subjoin as a
apeeimen an outline of that given by Mr. George :
— ^At the time Athens was at the highest point of
her power — ^her walls unbroken, her glory untar-
nished— when her citizens were honest, trathftil
lovers of freedom— they were remarkable for one
pardoular trait of character, \iz.t their love of
knowledge. Men flvm all paxta of the world
might be found at Athens, mingling and aaso-
datiug with tlidr wtsa men, aaeuing after know-
ledffe. Since that time eighteen hundred years
had rolled away, and a mighty change had come
over the world— a change which nad pulled
down frt>m the highest point of prosperity and
power nations whidi were once the glory and tha
terror of the world ; while, on the other hand, it
had raised up other countries from darkneas and
ignorance, and caused them to shine forth most
gloriously. But, not only had this spirit of
change arooted material things, crumbling to dust
as well the walls of palaces as the poor man's
cot, but it had led men to entertain fi^eah Qioughts,
hold new ideas, and see things in a ik«ah light, so
that they who lived in the present day had found
that many thin$(s which were esteemed by the
ancients as the loiiKhest wisdom, had proved to be
but real folly, while, on the other hand, many of
those theories which they rejected with disdain,
treating them as wild ohimeras of heated imagin-
ations, had proved to be great and glorious troths ;
vet, notwithstanding all this change, the same
love of knowledge — or ctuiosity, if he might so
call it — might be found in the men of the nine-
teenth century, as distinguished Uiuse of early
times. But what he wished to draw their atten-
tion to was — the advantage of a steady, deter-
mined progression. If thev wished to know what
progression could do, let them go into (he forest,
survey the giant oak, and reflect that there vras a '
time when any litUe boy could have snapped '
that oak asunder— when any schoolboy, with
his knife, could have cut it in twain ; or go aero^s '
the Atlantic, to New York, and remember that
that city, now the dwelling-place of hundre«ls of
thousands, was but a little while ^ro no city at
all. They need not cross the sea for illastrttCion&
—England wav the noblest monument of pro-
gression in the world. There was a time when
her flag was not unftirled on every sea — when.
instead of being the first, she was the last of the
nations. Let those who were ever dreaming oi'
the past— who looked with disdain upon all pre-
sent things— who would wish to bring back that
" golden age," encompass themselves on every
side with darkness, ignorance, and supermtition ,
bring baok the time of tjrranny and deapotisin,
fill their hearts with fears on account of wars amd
internal discord, and then they would ta^ve a
picture of the " sood old times ; " but as for them .
m the name of young men he answered, thev
wotUd not spend their time in dreaming oT the
past, but would live in the present, and prepare
for the ftitnre, and a glorious future waa before
them. Never was there a generation whoae pri-
vileges had l)een so great A period there was
when only the rieh and the noble of the lan«l
could have wise men to teach them ; bat, tlacuaks
be to God, they had a glorious band of tatora— 1
the great and noble of every land, pbiloaophers
of every age, statesmen of every clime, poets
every tongue. He exhorted them to be q
doing— to be determined to progress, wljiwie^^.,
difficulties might stand in their way. ir ttxci
learnt but a little every day, they would soom IkSLvi
a goodly stock.
Watthamstow Mutwii Improvement So^i^t^ ^
This society was established in January, Ihaj
(br the purpose of assisting all who were ^
«>:
BETORTS OK MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
Ill
of tkrivminf; iii«mlien in intellectual and nieutal
culture; and in improving them in general
Imndirt or literature. We refti>lved to hold
iMCODfES tvrrj Monday crening during the win-
ter Ma*on : at vbich meetings essay k were read,
ud kctitre^f deliveredf by aome of the mcmben ;
tad, upon the whole, our prot*ee<1infrs were ron-
daefed in a very orderly and creditable muniier.
the Mibbath ec-hool, and conducted chiefly by
their reJ»iM?clive teocliem.
These two rliuses liave, however, been merged
into one, and received tbe above designation.
Thus from snuill beginnings has arisen a society
dctiuite and substantial in its constitution, and
flouriHhing in its condition ; and we believe that,
by wiKely-direrted effurtJi, it will prove a blcssini;
A few of the subjects chosen were as follow : — , to the town at large. With a view of bringing tliiM
-iatroDocny;" ** The Importance of Mental Cul- ! society into gi-eater notice, its nicin))ers. with
tarr;' '*^The Steam Engine;" *'A Lecture on
Mosic, wiDi choractrristic illustrations;" "The
Ihcs and Cbmraeter of the Apostles," and on
'"Edw^ation." We discontinued our meetings
in May, wilb the intention of renewing them in
Sepbember, which was effected on the first of that
■oath, wlwn the society was reorgAnize<i, ami
their IriendK, held their iirst annual tea-meeting
in the schoolroom of Jamcs-8trc<'t Chapel, on
Suturilay evening, February 7th. The room wa»
beautifully decorated with ocrfrretns, iutcr-
S}»en«ed with flowers.
The Kev. Edward Jukes, president of the so-
ciety, was in the chair. Several excellent speeches
fgaaded on a surer basis. A committee and ntlier j and recitations were del ivt>red by various members
_, -^ _»__..! J _ __ 1- ^ jV selection of suitable songs, ic.,wnh given with
great efiect by Miss Lewis and Miss Bulcock.
Messrs. H. (J rime, W. Kiley, K. Sanderson, J
Bullon, and J. Willacey (members of the lihu'k-
tliat
Home,
much
a}tplauded. The meeting altogether was of a
]>Ieasant and instructive chiiraeUtr. und all pre-
sent apiKsared much pleased with the whole pro-
ceedings.— L.M.
ofBcer» were elected, and a code of
nkea, ptineipally selected from those piiblinhed
in joorpaimi, was agreed upon tor the regulation
of our mnaaclions. Debates were iniroducetl,
and caaays and lectures continued to be reail and { binn Choral Society).'" Woodman, spare
ddhcRdODTnrious subjects : all our proreciiings I tree! " sung by Mr. Snnden'Ou, und "f
bdnv utally unsectarian. *' I'reedoni of thought sweet Home." sung by Miss Lewis, were
and npre»sion " is our motto.
On almiday evening, January 27, 18.'j2, we
held oar fint annual meeting; which was, on
tbe whole, very satisbctory and cL<-ering. The
tyifiaenta of tlie evening were consiiterably cn-
bneed by the intnxiuction of tea and coflee, uf j Olatgow Literary InMitute. — The annual fes-
aUeh about thirty-five persons partook; ntter tival of the (ilasgow Literary Institute was held
vhidi icrerml of the members addressed the . in Messrs. M'Larries' ruoms.on Tuesday evening,
■MtiDfr on sabjeclB suitable for the occnsioii. i lUih of February, when a large company assenv-
May this example act as an incentive to young bled to do honour to the occasion. Mr. E. W.
om in oiber localities to ** go and do likewise," , Henry, the f(»uuder of the society, occupied the
they will find that, though they be few in : chnir. AfLer tea, the i-hnirman gave an eloquetil
ibcr, their laboura cannot fiiil to be productive . opening address, in which he ably combated tlto
«f fveulla beneficial to themselves and toothers, idea tlmt such societies gt^e ri>e to a merely
Te have at present about thirty-two members. — j superficial knowleilge, which is dangerous in its
J. W. tendencies, or that tlicy iniluce a partiality for
lASI , by m few earnest, right-minded indivi-
<baU, who had at heart the attainment of know- '
Ugr, that they might be the better able to aid in
ftr diapervion of ignorance, error, and crime, and .
tbe dtfoaion of light and happiness. After three j
«r fMor weeka were spent in arranging to work '
fte lodety, Air. J. S. Featherstune, superin-
leadeot of the Educational Institute, was re-
fMssed to si«e an opening adiiress ; which rwiuest
K ogopHed with, taking fur his subject, *' Self-
EdacatMn, its Helps and its Hindrances;" at
Ibf rlose of this addren ten more young men
fn% m Ibeir names, desiring to become members.
Oar roles differ v<7y little fh>m those given in
S*. 10 of tbe Srititk Controvfrrialitt ; where
fsa adopt tbe peimy-a-week system, we have
^*~~ the viriuntary principle, and believe it i^iU
the members, and advauta-
r. H.
AarUvns. — Jame$-Street VoHnff Men't Mu-
M ImprmMmmt Soeietjf.—The motto, " Union
* MagttL," has been well illustrated in con>
wnsa wilb fhia society. For some years past,
cSam have beca made to establish a '* Young
^B Soaktf.- Thb obfcct was partially at-
"^ ' the Biiiiiifiim of two week evening
with the select dasaea in
ftwt wtisftftiwT to
|Mea to the tociety.-
degree to which literary and debating societies
might be nmdc subservient tu such an end. Mr.
Kobert Bryson followed, on " The Merits and
Advanttu;es of cultivating a Taste for Keaiting ;"
Mr. liurst on "The Cultivation of the Moral
Feolings, in uniun with the Intellectual;" Mr.
Robert Dolzell, on " The Pleasures derivable
from the study of the Sciences," in which the
speaker took occasion warmly to oppose the ano-
malous idea of tlic urorkt of God leading to a
dislike or repugnance to the word of God ; Mr.
Andrew Anderson, on " The Characteristics of
oiu'Age," which he demonstrated to be mainly
i progress and individuality. or the onward progri's-
sive motion of the whole muss, as individuals in
the first i)lace, and consequently, also, in their
conjoined capacities, and showed tlie necessity of
so bestirring ourselves as to keep abreast with the
spirit of the age.
Wines and fruit were then banded round to the
company, and the chairman gave in succession,
each prelhced by appropriate remarks — " The
Uoeen " — "The I'rinre Consort and Roral
Family " — " Houses of rarliament " — " Tli«
Glasgow Literary Institute," which were recnved
with all the honours — " The Corresponding Mem-
bers," resi>onded to by Mr. Bryson, the corre-
sponding seeretary, who proposed the bc»l'OaL ol
Ill
THE nrQUIRBlt.
the old BMmbcn ot the lociciy, who, thoogh not
now of the •ociety, were to-night with them. A
•oeoesrion of toasts, liteniy and otherwise, inter-
iqpenod with songs and reeHations, continned
to enliven the proceedings of the evening. A
tew minntes beftrae eleven, Mr. John Robb pnv>
poaed, in a highly eulogistio speech, the besltfa of
the chairmarii tha founder of the society, which
was raptnronsly reoeired ; innnadlately aftei
whieh the ctmipany broke op, hif^Iy defightei
with the proceedings of the evening. We under
stand the enf hosiasm of the meeting is likely t(
reaolt in a In^^ ineirase to the membership o
the society. "Wt earnestly hope it may be so, an«
wish them a lar^ge amount of success in tliel
undertaking.
QUESTIONS BEQUIRIN6 ANSWERS. ' ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
84. Can any of your readers give me information
respecting the art <^ Venu-iloquism, and say
whether there are any treatises published on the
anbject?
H6. Being desiroos of becoming profteient in
the scienoe of Navigation, and not feeling satisfied
to take tilings as laid down in works whlteu on
the subject without knowing the vAy and the
icAer^ore, I shall feel greatly obliged if you, or
any of your contributors, will kindly luform
me whether ihvn are any elementary spherical
trigonometrical works applicable to nsviga-
tiou published? by whom, and at what price?
Your reply, in " The Inquirer," will oblige,— A
Sailom.
80 Two works of high character having been,
hy diflerent friends, strongly recommended to roe
as a theological student, both of whieh I cannot
afford to purchase, but wish to get that one which
in the opmion of competent judges possesses the
roost merit, displaying alike the soundest reason,
ings, from acknowledged premises and acntest
theological criticism, mav I request fh>m those of
your readers whose studies may have led them to
become acquainted with and compare the two
together, the favour of their opinions upon their
respective merits? The works I allude to are Dr.
Bloomfield's **6reek TesUiment, with English
Notes," in S vols. ; and the Rev. H. Alford's
'* Greek Testament," in S vols., of whieh only
vol. i. is yet published.
From the Httle I have seen of Mr. Alfbrd's
work, he appears to me to be deepiv imbued with
Rationalism (fhlsely so called), allowing the gospels
no more wright or authority than what we should
allow to mere memoirs of our Lord's actions on
eaitli — notes of a bystander on his discounes;
and doing his best to undermine their claims to
nupiration, according to the ordinary interpre-
tation of that term. But I do not wish to pre-
judge Mr. Alford's performance ; all that I desire
IS the decision of some per«on capable of forming
a correct one, upon hii merits as a theologian,
compared with Mr. Bloomfleld.— FiL.
87. Is the *fi«fy of the ctatsie* and fortign
lamgwmfM indUpnuabfy necessary to a young
loan who has not got much spare time, and who
intends gaining efficiency in xhe/orteqftanguage
and txprf$*ion as a titerwy man and public
$peakerr—T. Q.
88. Perhaps one of your correspondents will
inform me of a good work on English compo-
sition. I have ComweIVs " Toung Composer,"
but if I ean obtain a better work I shall be glad
to do so.— H. C. D.
00. I*onthei$m and Sationalitm. — We ar
pleascd to observe that " Republican ** recognise
the fact, " that much knowledge comes of hum
liir." Those who desire to know, wrong then
selves by curbing the spirit of inquiry. We hat
consulted some of the most modem and t>e)
authorities within our reach on the uointit i
inquiry now before us. Pantheism is defined t
be " the doctrine which leaches that the aniver>>
is the supreme God," or more fully, *< a phiK
sophical species of idolatry which maintains thi
the universe is the supreme God. Some persons
however, have also applied the word Pantheism t
tliat doctrine of theology according to whic
God's sjpirit not only pervades everything, bi
everything li\-es through him and in Jtim, au
there is nothing without him," Acts xvii. :27, i
»rq. ; Ephes. iv. 6. Pamtheistie — confoundio
God with his works. These arefyom Mauiidc
Craig (author of the "New Universal Dictionary
defines thus :— Pantheism (jnin, all; and Thra
God, ttom the Greek). In metaphysical theolog;
the tlieory ik hirh identifies naturr, or the univer»
in its totality, with God. Pantheist — one wh
adopts tha theory of Spfaioaa, that the univrn
is God. Puntkfitiic — ^In sculpture a term app1i<
to siatuca and figuras whieh bear the symbols <
several deities together, tha meaning of which h(
been a subject of much dispute among anttquarie
RsTioiCALiSH— a system of theology wMda beir«
to be developed in Geroany during the latter hs
of the last rentnry. The fbllowcra of th« aystct
deny the divine origin of the senptnrea. *Th<
difler fhHB the Deists (who maintain that tl
Bible is the product of fhuid), and allefre th«
uotariihstanding all the apparent ineonmrities
the Bible, it is based on historical foundations, I
ascertain which is the problem of reaaon. Tl
authors of the biblical books, according to tl
RatioaaUsta, were not impostors, but men
moral purity, who, being dchided by theix^ima}
nation, considered things to be miracnlocis whit
acre onlv natnral oeeurrenoes. Other portioi
of the Bible, they say, which have hitherto be<
conaidered as recording supernatural events, net
only to be divested of the figurative mcMle
expression peculiar to all eastern nations,
order to JM^pcor as the records of ordinary ocrv
renees. The theologians who flnt came lbrw«
as advocates of this new system were Seaulc
J. D. Michaelis, and J. G. Eichbom, who w
considered iU chief supjiorter, until Paulo* Joim
their ranks. The Rationalistic system of iiit4
pretation has been chiefly ouufined to the Q
Testament, although many passages in the N<
Utu.bc. EirJrinllie
riMh™ Tbrir Ukw/.
1 fnid Ibinc pofftwna vlivb ur
It «f mytbwil iidEkiiaiTLfaHiir
ituli. Thw norii. rbe^wluo.
rml InrninK. prvfotinil rrflrc-
>klll. hai nlka rmb ■ h«i sr
FMeUa," quolu DvD
L «u. I HI nmiincnl U>u ihi
roB arte, ta hi! wild, ercn.Wt
■>>dde>g." wbo In Rluomy dp-
Ik, nt flnJiM IM conMilwloii on
■k« Ha flu. flMot bikn mm.
>■■ Und-tk* saUmH ChId.
T. R K.
• BUMita at" FidriU," 1 ihink
■.vOTMoWwnBUI
div»lfd inui ihm u
I* habit ttid pntloutJf vHl-difnitad In-
ib lo mker on tli* ittiilj of Botuij ; but»
^lild tl>tu mm Uie tiiidtnl oT Ikta
lie miuri will k« n.uii.1 In mm nUo
Lff prepmliim be brmfri to ifae tank.
■HTUirf u prurml Iiilb Hutliiii will wveitlf of
iliplinlion, iiiiiuh. ir bg ba cnnfKllc, vUl wgrk
I iKlnnhla mull in MrHiglbiDLiii bi> (Mncpdann
of nitunl LbloiT \* uhuIIt
iiioai or Kyiwnnlia, Phy.
irHotioy; thr mnniut oT
: uu-lnMonl. Thtlbir natural or ■nilirinl, Ihr
iTiDus part* of vblrb a tmrabla boflf mntlatib
■mut hnportann tliat Ihv atuilfnl iibovid
of vfairh ia hfn tulgoiiwd.
I'MHablt fcodin take* inir-
u;fitli«r thitora«riI^i■^
ibJlvldlJU. MmocotylHonouBplBiiiiiliiTlnKone
nml'lobA or mljlMlon ; and dirotrlnlDiiouB
olauu whirb liava two or mon corjlrdnnt ; (.>
Il.r^ haa IMD a-ldid Ihr tribe of ac«r1rdaniniii
lilaati rIeMituH of smilrdaDi, ihoiiih moat jiliuia
Tbi- dl'Mona tbriamarbn] br UennnlBatoTf
dMKKvkdonoua plant, it would br A>uud Ibat Iba
Crinciiial veina of tba Amur anaiwa IbaniaflTeit
iM neartr lianltrl IhiM of aqua) IbiriUMB ;
wUlM Ib tba IMM* UMia will ba fcgaj a lara*
lU
THE INQUIRER.
The ligneous portion of a dicotyledonous plant
consuita of pith, wood, and bark, which the sap
increases every year by a fVesh deirasit of fibrous
matter just within the bark ; presenting the well-
known appearance in timber cut transversely of
concentric rings. From the manner in which
dicotyledonous trees are increased by successive
layers on the outside, they are also termed exo-
gens, signifying to increase externally.
The trees belonging to Uie urder of the mono-
cotyledons are all natives of the tropics, and the
gcrminaiing principle goes on in the centre of the
trunk, whicb, pressing against the outer cuticle,
causes its densest wood to be found at Uie bark ;
these trees have neither concentric rings nor me-
dullary rays, and when cut sectionally present a
mass increasing in porosity, from tlie above-men-
tioned reason, as it approaches the centre. These
trees are also called endogens, signifying to in-
crease internally.
These two orders have all visible flowers, and
are called phanerogams ; but the inflorescence
of the acrogens being inv bible, they are termed
cryplogama:, or hidden flowering plants. '1 he
most remarkable of the cryptogamous plants are
the aborescent ferns of the tropics, which attain
a height of forty feet, and present from their flnely
indent«>d fronds a beautillul appearance.
Beside these primary divisions, tlie dicotyle-
donous iilonts have been divided into the dichla-
roydeiB, or those having both calyx and corolla ;
and the monochlamydeoi, or those having only a
calyx. The monorhlamydeie are not subdivided ;
but the dichlamydea> are again divided into tlic
thalami-floro;, calyci-flora;, and the corolIi-florfE,
divisions dependent upon the posiiion of the petals
and stamens.
The monocotyledons have also been subdivided
into the petaloid, or those with regular flowers,
like the bulbous plants and the orchiducK ; and the
glumaceoiM plants, or those that ha%-e scales or
glumes, as Uie grumina.
The acotyletions are divided into the foliocie,
or tliose wiUi leaves, and the aphylltc, or those
without leaves.
Each of the sub-classes before mentioned is
divided into numerous onlers, diflemitly arranged
by diflVrfnt botanists. They will be found enu-
merated in any elementary work on tlie subject,
and to such we refer A. ]{. M.
From the above rapid resume it will be seen
that the principles involved in a natural system
of botany are very simple, and easily to be com-
prehended, when once a comi>etent knowledge of
the anatomy of vegetable bodies is attained.
Indeed the whole range of natural sciences
furnishes no pursuit of such a variety and beauty
of development as the study of botany ; for, when
the grammar uf the subject has been studied and
con(]uered, and tlie anatomical detail and classi-
fication of plants has been overcome, and each
part and onler is clearly understood, sources of
investigation open themselves to tlie eye of the
student, ifi numbers and novelty, of which the
uninitiated or incurious have little or no concep-
tion.
The vestments of beauty that the hand of God
has flung with such profusion and splendour
over the entire ^lobe, offer boundless fields oi
research to the diligent investigator. And whether
Mb opermdona an coodueted amidst the goiigeous
Mud Bingulmr ricbuen$ of the tropical plaiii life,
or the more delicate beauties of the temperate
zone, or even the scanty and amorphous Tegeta-
tion of the polar latitudes, he cannot fail of his
reward, and witli wonder and devotion will be
constrained to say, " What hasUod wrought!"
T. W. I.
The most economic^ ami perhaps the best,
wny for A. B. M. to aciiuire a knowledge of Botany,
will be to procure, first, Lindley's '* Introduciion
to Botany," price 18«. (Ix)ngmau and Co.); then,
the first part of llooker's ** Itritish Flora ; " and
much as<^istance will also be rendered by Lee's
" Botimical Looker-out"— a work which informs
you what to search for each month of the year,
and how and where to search. One thing you
should understand, and this is, that none of the
works named pretend to give you insight into the
nomenclature of garden plants : the most of these
are of artijicial origin, and con only be fnUy
understood by practical research and obsenratioo.
A- P. C.
80. The Study of Phrenology.— Tor the atudr
of Phrenology , li.U. cannot procure a better won:
tlian Dr. O. Combe's '* System of Phrenology,"
in two vols., which may be procured, Mcond-
hand, for a mere tiifle — or for beginning the
study , the '* Elements of Phrenology,' by the same
autlior, will perhaps answer as well. YTith the
help of one of these, and a phrenological bust
(to bo liiul of almost any chemist), he «ili be able
in a very short time to fix in his memory the
relative position and size of the various oifrans, a
task absolutely necessary to ensure a reauly i^
plication of his knowledge to the discovery of
character. There is nothing, however, which wiU
HO efl'ectually aid his progress as acartrfbl and
discriminating exaniiuation of the craniuma of
living subjects (himself, his relatives and fHends,
&c.), taking care to form no hasty coodoaio&a at
first, as Uie most skilful phrenologista are liable
to mistake, from their losinv sight of the principle
Uiat one organ, bud or goo<i, if largely developed,
may be balanced by the equally large dcTelopment
of another of opposite character. For inatauce,
tiie organ indioatioR benevolence may be ]ar|(e,
and its beneficial influence ncvertheleaa imper-
cepuMr, owing to the imdue development of
acquisitivi:ness. F. J. L.
G.G. — The determination at which you have
arrived will materially assist you in obtaining a
knowledge of the science of Phrenology. We bad
occasion to speak last month of the neceasKj Ibr
determination in the acquisition of kDowled|(r.
We need therefore say nothing more on this point
now. The works you may consult with moat
otlvantage. are— first, George Conlbe's ** Elements
of Phrenology," price 3s. Qd. ; then, ** A System of
Pbrenolof!y,"by the same author, price II. Is.; and
afterwards, "Functions of the Cerebellum," by
Drs. Gall, Vimont, and Broussias, tranaUUed
from the French by (teo. ( 'ombe, price 8«. Also
*' Selections from the Phrenological Joomal,"
edite^i by Robert Cox, price d«. M. These are all
published in London, by Simpkin and Co. and
Longman and Co. There are many other worka
upon the science, hoUi English and French, bvt
the foreguiiiff will f\imish you with the **siim and
substance " of all. — C. W., Jun.
82. Kmowledyeo/Conveyameinf.^-Omm.'-'Tht
first step you should take in order to aoqoife a
knowledge of the principles of Conveymclnf^ la to
make a careful perusal of the second rolwanm of
TUE YOUXO STUDENT AUD WIUTER's ASSISTAHT.
115
MB ** Commentaries/' uul the fint volume
n's "Commentaries:" also WiUiiuos's
lea of the Lav of Real Property;' and
» ** Prindpk-ii of Conveyaneiutf." From
tbea«: books you will derive much iiifor-
md the pcnual (that is, the caretul rrad-
onaidtTatiou) of tht;m all will make you
od eonTeyancer, or at least migbt do so. ■
,aa we presiuiie^ou to be, iu an attorney's .
llhiiikofbetfommgameinI>erortheIegal ]
L, we would call your attention to the ;
odoit's Magazine," published monthly
igs, ol 13. Carey-street, Lincoln's Inn.
or preliminary Ntulius you will d(>rive
fill and v>und practical information fhmi
ifiral : at the present moment, however,
nd it peculiarly adapted to your puri>0!>c, '•
re happen to know that its editors have
ed iatu an arrangement fi>r the publicn- '
cries of lettem on conveyancing, devoid :
sehnic-ilities which too often obstruct the
le student; end written by a gentleman
a the conveyancing dqiartmenL The
« letters will, wc bplinvc, a]>pear in the
)r tliiA d^y, March 1st— C. W., Jun.
^ I do not rome within the designation
to whom ** Orion" directs hi^ iuiiuirv, .
tef tenctd eorrespondenU," having only I
•9d upon the study of Conveyancing
ct it being my practice, when I coin-
r sabject, to have the advice of as many
id persons as possible, I have in tlit>«
liad the opinion of many clover and
nm in the profession on this subject
tirough their writings), and, therefonf. I
it will not be thought presumptuous in
is only, like th« inquirer himxclf, a
M, and that it will not be considered by
le ** blind Utuiing the Mind" for me to
rw remarks on the subject, as m thuw
rice I am only expressing the practical
of mMy experienced persons on this
he first hf>ok,snd easiest to be under-
heyoirag student. is Williams's " Prinri-
le Law of lUal Property," publislied by
Cb«noery-lAne. Tnis work I have read
ith great profit, and, therefore, I can be
re an experimctfd decision on it, though
on any of those which come after.
I, the second volume of Blackstone's
ataries" sthould b** taken up. This book
Ihorities that I have seen highly recom-
I they advise even three or more carelul
>f it. Seri^eant Stephen's "Comnien-
Ight be vsvl in lieu of Blackstone's
Then follows Burton's ** Compendiimi of the Law
of Heal Property." This is a masterly and prac-
tical treatise. To use his own words in his
preface, ** It has been the author's endeavour to
adapt hi>i work ^though intended to be as complete
as possible in itself) princiually to such readers
as, being alreaily acquainted with ISlackstonCf arv
desirous of further progress." Alterwanls the
following works may be advantageously read —
Sugden's " Po*cri ; " Sugileu's •• Vendurs aiul
Purchasers ; " Ilaye's « Conveyancing ; " Coote on
•• Mortgages ; ' Sanders' •• Uses and Trust" (" the
doctrines of uses and trusts," says Shcppard, in
his ** Touchstone," " is of thu first importimcc to
a correct knowledge of the law of Utle"); and
Woodi'all s ** Laiuilord and TenunL" Then, to
use tlie words of the autlior of one of the
treatises on Uiis subject, " Having mastered these
works, tiie student will be prepare*! for all ordi-
nary transactions. He may safely add atiy other
modem tnutises which are cousi«len>d of au-
thority." He should also take up reports, but
here he i^ist use discretion. " Hu niuy, we
think," says onu of my works, " safely leave the
eliler reporters, and keep them merely as works
of rt;f'i'n-n(H* ; but he should read all the cases
upon the law of iiropcrty in the more modem
n^ports, heffinnitig with Atkyns in the courts of
equity, and Lord Knymond in tlie courts of com-
mon law. This, of course," it continues, ** will be
a work of tinie.nnd must be necessarily disturbed
by buHiuess, but we should advise its steady pur-
suit if time will allow." If the inquirer is a
student intending to enter tlie ranks of tlie pro-
fession, Uierr is a work, published monthly,
which I would e9>pccially recommend to him, viz.,
tlie '* Law Student's Magazine," price Is. 7d. It
contains renlly valuable information, being total.'tj
devotfd to the wants of the ttndent. Any inl'or-
m.ition you may require on legal subjictk, the
e<iiiors, as I know by experience, will kindly
give; and altliough yoii con gencrully get advice
on such questions as the one now pntposed by
you, through the kindness of the editors of Uiis
Ofriodical, yet such a question being entirely of a
K'gal nature, more ])roperly belongs, and is mure
Hi tor, the " Law Student's Magazine " than the
British Controvtnialint. I hope that the above
remarks on tlie study of conveyancing, which I
have culled from ditittrent authors, a ill contain
the information tliat is required on the subject ;
but should more bu required, I shall do all tlint
lies in my iH)wer, with the aid of my books, to
give it. and lor tlioi purjiose foiward my addrtss.
-D. H.
€jir ^nung Itnhnt mil WxMb ImbM.
LOGIC CLASS.
mtkeArto/ JUaaoning.—Xo. XIII.
ribe the state of Greek Philosophy an-
of the Aristotelic Logic.
M tt« Catmries.
il^ Ihr Collowinfr teims into their re-
Aiid stale whj:—60, rater- /
noster-row — Turkcy-rwl — twenty-six — ciivula-
tory— queen — bolt ujirigbt — was inflated — por-
alli-logram.
d. Distinguish between Extension and Com-
prehension, and give examples.
G. Define and exemplify Quantity and Quality.
7. Define and exemplify Subulternation ai.d
Opposition.
tf. WhatisConTenion?
116
TOE YOUXO STUDENT AND WRITER 8 ASSISTANT.
GRAMMAR CLASS.
ExercUet in Orammar. — Xo. II.
1. Coustnict a form similar to that given be-
loir, an«l arrange the following nounn in their
proper columnt: — London, being, book, affliction,
whiteness, hoa<>e, Liverpool, seeing, John, high-
ness, multitude, slavery, manhood, friendship,
congregation, laughter, Southampton, pen, son,
knowl^ge, paper, parliament, hearing, feeling,
committee, affection, lielief, hope, Louis, nation,
man, concourse, heart, intentions, king, revolu-
tion, America, seed, herd, bloom, shadow, maid,
flock, trammel, queen, prince, Victoria, Albert,
gardener, Henry, rector, executrix, affinity,
region, erasure, attendance, acrimony, fkllacy,
ardour, animalcule.
Propkr.
NOUNS.
Common. ^
Collective. Verbal. Abstract.
2. Snpplv definitions of the various parts of
speech, and give examples of each.
3. Explain the difiference b^ween abstract and
verbal nouns.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— I.
Arithmetic and Algebra.
1. As the weight of a cubic foot of water is 1000
oz., and cast-iron is 7 84S times heavier, the
weight of a cubic foot of iron = 1000 x 7-2 i8 oz. =
7*248 oz. Therefore the number of cubic feet in
the whole mass e<itials the number of times that
7-248 oz. is contained in it Thus —
No. of c. (1 = 1500000x20x11-2x16 ,,,^.„.,^
j^^ -=7417218-543
.*. Side of the cube= V7417218 54d=195-0S
H. £. D.
2. Areaof fleld=050x870=826500
Area of ditch =950x870 .,„_
— -- — =41325
20
Let or = the width.
Length of ditto=950x870-x by quest.
Area of ditto=x (I8a0-x)= 18-21) x-x*
Another expression for area.— Change all the
signs and transpose : —
Then x'-lS^Cs -41325
Complete the square, and we have
x«-18-20x+9lO^=-4l325+8i8100=786-775
x-910=+ ^788775=887-09
.-. x= 22*97 or 17II7'03.
The width of the ditohl therefhre, is 99-07.
J.B.
S. LetSxestbf nnmbw at eoAnM of tkt grMtrr
rmlae.
2 x=the ninnbeT of the lesser. Then by the
queiition —
27 (2 x) and 21 (3 x) are their re.«peetive values.
.-. 54 x-l-63 x=1287 .shiliings.
.-. 117x=l2b7
..x=1287
1I7~
2 x=2 X II =22 number mater.
3x=3xll=33 numl>er leaser.
Proof:— 22«.x27«. = X29 14#.
33«.x2l«.=l'34 13s.
Total.
.£rA 78.
W. A. C.
4. Suppose Is. given to each common soldier;
then each lieutenant had 2t., and each captain 6s.,
and the total amount gi% en would be 135-H444-54=
213s. But the actual total amount we find to be
3.'i,997s., or ItH) times the supposed sum : there-
fore the sum given to each will be 109 times the
supposed sum.
.'. Each private received £S 9s.; lieutenant,
.£16 18s.; captain, i'50 ll«.
C. D. S.
Geometry.
1.— First SolHtion — I^et A B C be the triaagk
of which the side A B = 1290, B C 555, and A C
1390. It is required to find the perpendicular,
B \> falling upon the crreater side 1390. Bisect
tht- base A C in £. '^Tben (£uc. 47, 1 CorJ
A B«-B C« = A D«-D C»=(A D+D C).
( A D - D C) ( 1 ). For the difi*ereuce of the a<|iiares
= the rectangle under the sum and diAnvore.
New A D-D C=A E + E D-D C = B C +
KD-DC=2£D. Substituting this value in (1)
__ AB»-BC«_1290«-.W5"
^ ^-:tl/L D+D C'~WiW~ -*»7'^-
1390
But D C = E C-E I>=— ^^ — 487 79=207-21
And B D= ^BC«-D C»=x x x»
^/555• - 207-21 • =51486.
W. 8. O.
l.^Seeond Solution. — Conceiving the two sidcf
of the triangle to be 1390 and 129U links ra^^
tively .'. we have per trigonometry 555 : (13W4>
1291') : : 1390- 1290, or 555 : 2680 : : 100 : 48S^,
nearly .*. for one of the segments, we shall bsM
(555+482-9)-i-2=518 9, and for the other aegiMBt
of the base 5/>5-51b 9, or 36 1. Henoe (Bych. L
Prop. 47) v^l2t>0»-3'"l«= V1.9«*l«>-^*6fl-4ia
Vlt>627M> 79=1289-5 links nearly.
The above process may be proved as follows >-
Let A B C be a triangle, and from centre C vitb
the distance ol the greater side A C, describe the
circle 6 A F £, and demit C D perpendieular 10
A £. Now it is clear that G B=tbe snm of Ibt
sides A C and C B and B Fstheir difference.
But A D = D E (EuciiLS).-. A B=tb« sum, tad
B E the ditf'erence of the segments of the baac,
whereas 6 B =the sum, and B F the difltevnce of
the sides of the triangle. (From Eao. iii.a6, A B :
G B : : B F : B E.) PoouT.
2. 1&&8X 408=:area of the buildhif .
diameter of the cirele of equal area.
7W4
X.8.
XOnCES OF BOORS.
117
Mefkamies.
1. To answer this questioii it u necesBwy to
fiml-lft. Tb» weight of the •tone: and— ^niL
Re »f>ace throofch which the centre of irravity
■eLJ W moved to torn it on it» edge. Tliese
in ±n»g:M will enable us to find out ibe units of
l-li ntCrthMTJ to (Iw it : —
liL The weight of the block, or klune =7 * x 170
■::xt4. The dt«tance through which the cvntre of
niity mu.«t he moved to turn it on its edjce.
Lh'a BCD represent a section of tlii« stoue.
T.c distance of e from A, theedge, D C =
Hmv the etibe is on the point of bvinp turned,
tjw r will be ftt « in the direetimi A B. simI hiJI
tbcrrfsn be elevated in the perpendicular dirvc-
ttdar a.
rfi=4'040-3-5=1449.
.-. Twliof work necensery to overrcnnegmrltT =
WJIO X 1 44«=r&l4UlI9. J. £.
1 A hone is calculated to perlbnn 33,000 units
^•mk per minute : multiply by 70 the number
«f iMras power, ami 60 the number of minutes in
aa ksarsthe number of units of work done per
W. The weifcht of a cubic foot of waters
^ii lb.; this multiplied by 190x6 the number
(■f fcrc that the water has to be raised = the total
*tik ia I ■'■inr the water. .'. Number of feet
_ ^ 33000x70x60
rai«4 per boar= —77 — nr;-— «- =3080
■^ tW'6 X 12U X b
K.J.
QUESTIONS FOR SOLUTION.— III.
AritkmeUemmd Algebra.
'J. Therr is a lUid containing 10 acres, which
the proprietor intends to corer with claj to the
uniform depth of 4 inches: the clay is to be
taken from a pit to be dug in one comer of the
field. 14 feet deep. Suppowing 12 feet of this to
be clay, what will be the area of the pit?
10. The value of standard gold at the Mint is
.^3 17t. Ui^H. i>er ounce. Its speeiHc gravity
17-629. Ke«iuired the content of a lump which
would pay the national debt, feui>posing it to be
i.780.000.000 sterling.
11. Extract the square root cf 9781*31, and
explain the principle of the ojieraiion.
13. Find Uie least common multiple of 7, 1 1 , 19,
26, 104, and ItM), and explain the process.
Geometry.
ft. A cubic inch of glass in blown into a sphere
of lUiifurm thickui-sv, capable of coulaining a
gallon of water. Eefjuiml the thickness of the
glass.
6. Divide a given right line (A B) so that the
square of one part shall l*e equal to the sum of
the siiiiares of the other two.
Meckaniet.
5. The height of a waterfall is 10 feet ; the
quantity of water which falls over jier minute,
S-'tO cubic feet ; the moilulus of the wheel, '6.
Required the horse power.
6. The long arm of a lever of the first kind is
4 feet; the short arm U inches. What power
must be applied to lilt a weight of 8 cwt, sup-
posing the lever to be without weight?
Erratum. — In question 6, Arithmetic, instead
of "empty cistern be tilled," read "full cistern
be emptied."
Mitts nf 3SQok5.
i I«elnr« an tke CivOizimg Jpjluenrt* qf Chrit-
ByRev.W.Sh^herd,BJ). London:
irtDC,andCo.
Bell,
Mmigim.mo
Chat fbere are some dark
horiaon, it is still admitted
that there has never
cnriHxatkm more complete in all iu
of the present day. Other
have poaaeaaed a eivili.
and in a certain sense
baa eisilixation been so
and eo lasthifl in its eharaeter. as it
hava been asaigijed for
ao iniaraacing a matter, of course
much apaeulatiou. That religion
imBaenee upon the present state
fln* a moment doubt : ami
this rriigious influ-
leetnre.
earefVil
glad that
%Sr • mtaar or Mr. SheplMrd'a
«•§ it OMted, is tta ol^icot of Iha present
IWtswh a aoMal fa wottliy of the mot
iMMtatflMi tf iriO aliiit: tnd wa are gl
ft iMtMBkMflai W • mfler or Mr. She
and hence, with a clear arrangement and appro-
priate language, Mr. Shepherd has advanced
Silain truths, and left them to strike home to the
leaits of his readers. But let the writer at once
speak for himself : —
" I said I would consider the subject as a eitiaen
of the world, but I can searcely realize the exis-
tence of such a character in a christian country ;
for we are so ifummnded by the influences I
would speak oF— their efTecu have become so
interwoven with all our habiu of bodT and rea*
soning of mind— we have associated them so
entirely witti our outward walks and private paths
of life, that we scarcely know how to disengage
ourselves from their spell, so as to become eon-
s< ious of their existence and importance, because
we cannot form any distinct conception of what
would have been the effect of then: absence or
nou-existenoe. Indeed it ia not too mudi to say
that in ihte happy land of oon — thia home of
refined elegancies and domeatioenjoymenta— Ibis
abode of civil peace and systematic order— where
although the higimt and lowaat ranlta o( tt&m
^aoed at an ahnoat immeiaipmbla d&HfiBt wywei
ite rartaua inmMdi«tc gniA« ol Mctafcy «r%«»
■lipiniH, imulUlii! the naluc. iUumbig ILi i
>D>lon.HnlluiKantti«(UiiiJ^lKinh,uii]btuUi' i
Dukc it KppmDI to you b; ■ itn bromd tad aim-
!te Qicta tbjit (b«j UTfl done— fiid thu too in
efiancd of puweHd] obnlaeJn ciinniuglr amyed
^■iiut tiHin, il n« tfail ui »iiLrui¥ Q4IW riiAl-
Init Ibfj Biiut be in principle— liow benencUl in
■Tideum orthi> tut m nU nmaiie-l to ooe ipot
ar cporh— neilber flIulL we rvkt utiiAeil *ilh one
pr«r on] J, fbr Ovj wlio would eiitAblith ■ fcreiu
priiidple, or evelv? ftom their obBcuriljr Uje ope-
i) ^ uid uoinlingiy llirv hvm eimned evei
■hole wbo dill dol beliere Uie chtiiliii
9D.juitipp1aiut«, wbif^ irrre cTTIiiljilj UB
a price vljich plunes it wilhin Ube reach oT ell,
jipl(n«itto E(»«nl(*7'™'I>ir'«nniTn/-¥rriK.
[■n .Vawi. Bf W. O. Uinl. Lcmdn:
RunilUKi, AdunU) and Co.
Wt ire died to prrcciie (bit Mr. Bird ii
h«ii»u>triliiD||briiefluariheinaii
I luirjEntioti, It *i>pFani. olhrr nMo relinMt^
with it«1f— twitba- by tlir di
pbiiOHOpUy or tbe coDtrivuicvn ,- ,,_r^-,. -^
and more diffitsive chvncifr. Tidocinotffildlhe
but il nlher M*»p> the imnrd om iriih Uh iin.
pnu of iteriinif YeJftc, uuodijltented worth- For
lbin« «yoh mate to moral knowleil^^ tiUien in
leol. vn« ULidcnlood b« the anci?nl
)reck9.and Roniaiii. In a> |iiȣ |>er-
L* Uiliip IbfiDMl.w are «™ble of.
>iie (houHbt and
mr uirelikilr
Itv nentLmnirt^ i
■ a vsrful vork. eapcciallr for thoae wbo
Iblnxiwbtet
iKwllntei
f teanjt hj thai profvfii wltidi briiva it
. dimUjr borne to the baJfit* and tbou^ata of
learner, Mr. Lebahu primed* on the piiit-
nl miittlluda. of mlinit thrir paiaioni. d
neafilyaadtOivlmillj obeyed; oreonreni
IKctwhieb ii due tu iDta'a Hvtral aualilii
abort, all that n camnxinlr meant bjr knawi
I world and ndderuandiuii nuakiud i all thii
laTc beeo in rbmer ■«» Ibonm^bly oDdentvoil
d auccCAfllVillT practiifd, * * • Bat aAf rail.
IK Ibe itDdf <;f Um 0<
JoHiy Jifea.
3uudn Lltararr bi
aft ChiM«i>(liJa«ipaMUa laid 4owD tottnmhMdi
NOTICES OK BOOKS.
119
kaDdkil it in • masterly manner. lie Mizei
«pon like foliofiiiu; charaeusrikticii of the tq/tc, and
bnDf:« thna practically to bear uu the )K»itioD
tui mjfousibilitin of youug men:— liL Its iin-
mrvt tecthcars of enmmuhicaiion, and con^e-
fUcDi 4#ppMrtiinili«a of inAuenoe betwvcn man auil
Biau. Sad. lis pgantic social evils, and itii nuble
Mnusln for thvir amrlioration. 3rd. Its indiis-
t'UiSru%iiT and vnst cumraercial exjMiisiou. 4tb.
It»»iaiuTra science. 5th.ludiinisrdinrunna!iun.
h\L ltd UMiral eamestnesN. We append an illus-
tniire extract from hu remarks under the first
k*l:—
" iieie are need no elaltorate induction of par-
bnilu», liot i^imply tu bid yuu look around to
iLat u )eoiu|C on everywhere befon; your eyes.
lu urev simple ticts — the railway line, the ocean
ti(«n»>.and the cltrctric telerKaph— Uitre is wrapt
up ibe Lintory of cenluncs. Here it no ordinary
Mtv in tfae ouwartl proKrvss of humau thinif*. but
s ia»t Rr«»lution, an unmeasuralile stride in tlie
|.ru%ule&tMl development of our race, intruducinff
u» at oner mto a n«w world. Just try to rralice
(be JVniDcaure v( Uiia one plain niaiter ol fart,
ihat X»*iifht now travels thruugh thousands of
iiiJtfs on Its inm pathway more i|uirkly than tlie
«• ris that cxpreas il are pronouucetl ! The time
ttkra t>' oibtr the sounds and to indicate tiirra on
ti.p Llcctric dial-plate is measumbie. but not Uie
iiLt xhtj tMko to fly (rum Ixtndon to Purit.
Tlie Queen's speech is printinf( in £dinbuiu:b,
«uil* still ih«* royal cortMfe is wending iti howe-
Ticd way to Buckinjihani Palace. 1'iic French
t(^p d'etat is knu«u in London, wliile still the
placards ihat announce it aiv wet on the walls of
Pvia. The fights of the faubourmt and the barri-
cadKtare known to us while still in prof^rcM, as
tbb««fa the «ery winds convrved to nur cars Uie
k««.iaib^ of the cannon, and the sharp rattling of
;hr musketry. And t)iis state of things will
&n«aic more and more. Ihe new system of
toauaanicalion, already in such active progrehs,
nil prticwed apace, and soon {lervade the whole
anlu«d world. St. Peiersbury, Vienna, Berlin,
KuoM-. Convtantibople, Calcutta, Pckin, possibly
rvvB Wa)^i|;iou and New York, will soon be
prvtkally as near to us as Paris i» now. Every
lihlixni stale— the whole (*oiitiuental part of both
Mmupberea, wUl inevitably be, ere long, one net-
aurk of railway lines and electric wires ; and tlie
ciMCoeran steamers will complete the cominuni-
cuioobrtwmi the most distartt shores. Already
if<r Ucdiirrranran— that ancient htgli-*treet of the
vorld— has becoma but as a side street, and the
rma, Atlaniie is the crowdeil thoroughfare of
DMiom : aiTBDgeiBcnta are in pn»gress for s]tan-
anr by atcan transit the vast interval between
*><i<H>siiipHin and Anstralia; and tlie scheme has
keet boprAilly thrown out of a great eastern line
I^Hov along the Mesopotamian valley, straight
ifJo the very heart of the oriental world. Strange
lb t^u3t, of express trains rushing oxer the very
Pvwid which erewhile Abraham traversed with
lApdcrioi BtaflT'— <Mr the railway whistle echoing
>^lha% T«:ry vaUcr of Sbinar, whrro, when the
*wU was yomg. Nimrod wound his hunter's
^va ! These are not ftififaU of the imagination,
W ibr 40btr nralilisa of ihe age we live in.
Tkak of it aa «« nuif . and draw (Kim it what
fast becoming one community ; time and distance,
hitherto the great barriers of nations, ara passing
away, and pcnnitting Uie different races and tribes
of men to meet and blend tugetlicr as one people —
as one brotherliood.
" Nor do men in grneral seem backwunl in
availing themselves of thii increased and increas-
ing means or conmiunication. They seem quite
ready to strike hands and fxrhange tlioughts
freely witli their brethren. Never were the minds
of men more busy and prolific, |ioiu4ng forth
thtir thoughts through all tlie channels of the
pn^ss int(» con of their fellows. Twenty yean
ago Menzel reckoned the yearly tide of volumes
issuing from the (terman press at ten niillions—
the number ol'iuiw works at six thousand. Since
that time the raic of production, whiiii was then
rising by two thousand ev«.ry five yean, must be
very largely incn<>asi>d. ^<ld to this the teeming
authorship of France, Itrilain, America, and
oUier less proiluctive nntiuiis, not to sjieok of
the incessant snoH storm of lighter literature from
llie new^|>uJ•er and periiHlienl pres<, and you
will have some fuiiit miiion of that mighty tiile of
thought, that is unceasing pouring forth from the
human mind, and lluwiug through all the durts
and channels of communication to the ends of the
earth. Verily, in our day many run to and fro,
and knowledge — knowledge such as it is— knuw>
ledge gooil and bad— knowledge ranging from the
highest and holiest truth to the most vile uiid
poisonous error— is inconceivably und most por-
tentously iiicn'osnl.
"The benring of nil this on the duties and
responsibilities of our y<>uiig men is manifest
enough. An agt> of vast influence is necessaiily
an age of vast reiionsibiliiy. Now if ever, it is,
that a ma!i may on a great scale benefit his fellows,
and li\e to signal piirjioHe in his day and geni*-
ration. Nua-, if a holy energy fire our breast^,
and great and worthy ends an> set l)elure us, the
btnelicent influence of our career maybe not only
imperial, but aorld-wide. Now, surely, is the
time for our gencn>us and devoted youth to be up
and doing ; to be essaying n«jbl« deeds, an<l quil-
ting theniselveH like mt-n, in the great struggle of
truth and of humanity tliui is ut stake."
Srieetion of F.ngli*h Synonym$. Second Edition.
London : John W. Parker and Son.
The fact of this little volume being u«licrt'il
into the worhl under llu; editni ship of .4Lrchbish(»i»
Whately.is sutncient to miHe high expectations
of it, especially n hen we find him declaring that
*' though far from pn»uniing to call it perkct. it
is very much tlie bt:st(work) that has appeared o!i
the subject. ' This coming IVom such a man is
no mean prai-ne. The subject here treatetl ujion i»
interesting to tliose who covet the power of using
the *' gray-goose quill " witli ability and precision,
and, indeed, to all who desire an accurate knoi\ -
ledge of the English language. The author evi-
dently pnsscsbcs that exactness of discrimination
and chasteness of judgment so essential to ths
right }>erfonnance of the work which he has-
undertidcen. An example or two will l>e sufflelent
to convey to our readers an idea of the value of
the volume now luider review.
.IbelhcC is platn and indispu- *' Alto^ Too^ lAketciMe, lieiid^n.^* Too' is %
•r Ihe earth an comfaig rapidly ali/rhter and more (kmlliar expreaaionthaxv* i^^;
ot mnkiod Mrefwbkb has something in it nora n^*^^^ ^"^
120
NOTICES OP BOOKS.
f>>nnal. This is tbe only ditferance bctwven the
two worda. * LikewiM ' has a rmlhcr different mean-
iBfr. Originally it meant * in like manner ; * and
it has preMTved something of that signifioaiion :
it implies some connexion or agreemnit between
the words it unites. We may say, * He is a poet,
and likewise a musician ;' but we should not say,
-* He is a prince ^ and likewise a musician,' because
there is no natural connexion between these
qualities; but *also' implies merely addition.
'Besides 'is used rather when some additional
circumstance is named a^fter others, as a kind ol
idier-thought, and generally to usher iu some new
dause of a sentence, as, * Bendn what has been
said, this must be considered/ " &c.
Again : —
** Sineere^Hanett^Upright. — 'Sincerity* maybe
tiaed in two senses ; and Uiis leads to much am-
biguity in reasoning. It may eiUier mean, on
the one hand, reality or conviction and eamvst-
iiess of purpose ; or on the other, purity from all
unfairness or dishonesty. Many people overlook
this ; they will speak of a man's being ' sincere,'
when they mean that he has a real cont irtion that
his end is a good one, and imagine tltis must imply
that he is * honest ; ' whereas he may be * sinoere '
in his desire to gain his end, and dUhvnett in the
means he emplojrs for that purpose. * Honest,'
<m tbe other hand, i« not an ambiguous term ; it
implies utraigbtrorwardness and fairness of con-
duct. * Upright ' honc>ty and dignity of charaeier ;
it is the opposite of meanness; as * honesty ' is of
* cimning.' *'
EecoOeciicmt qf a Literprjf Life ; or, Bwkt,
PhueSf and Peoplt. By Mary Kunell Milford.
3 vohi. London ; Richard BentJey.
The audiorsss well says that the title of thb
book gives a Terr imperfect idea of the con'.ents ;
and it would be diJBenltto find a short phrsse that
would aeotirately describe a wurk of so miscel-
laneous a character. Its ol^feet is ** to make otliers
relish a few favourite writers as heartily as the
writer has relished them herself;'* and for this
purpose she has associated notices of various
authors and extracts from their writings, with
personal reminiscences and local scene painting ;
and has thus produced a very readable and even
an interesting work. Many of the extracu are
valuable, as comprising the best bits of neglected
authors: we select ihe following, from the writings
of Abraham Cowley (who lived iu the 17tli cen-
tury), althoughwe scarcely know what some of our
young and ardent readers will ihink of it
** The pleasantest condition of life is in incog-
nito. What a brave privilcfte ii is to be Ave IVom
all contentious, from ail envying, or being envied,
fkom receiving or paying all kind of ceremonies !
It is, in my mind, a very delightAiI pastime for
two good and agreeable friends to travel up and
down together in places where they arc by not>ody
known, nor know anybody. It was the ttuie of
£neaa and hit Achates, when they walked in-
visibly about the fields and sareeCs of Carthage.
Venua herself—
** * A veil of thickened air around them east,
That none ral|^ know or aee them as Ihey paaa'd.*
" The common atory of Demoethfloea* evmfea-
sion, ttMt he bad taken a great pleasure ra hearing
a basket-wonan say, as be passed—* This is that
OcmeaiheBes,' ia wonderAUljr riiUovloua fren to
solid an orator. I myself have often met with
that temptation to vanity (if it were any), but am
so far from finding it any pleasure, tbat it only
makes me run fester from the place, till I get (aa
it wore) out of sight-shot I>em«icritni relates
and in such a manner as if he gloried in the goo«J
fortune and commodity of it, that when be eaoM
to Atliens, nobody there did so much as take notice
of him : and Epicums lived there very well, thai
^ is, lay hid many ^ears in his gardens, so famoui
' since that time, with his friend Metrodorus ; aflei
I whose death, makina in one of his letters a kir«4
t commemoraiion of the happiness which they twi
had enjoyed together, he adds at last, that U
' thought it no difipanigement tothosequaMficaiion
I of their liie, that, in the midst of the most talked
' of and talking country in the worid, they hai
I lived so long, not only without fame, but almo<
without being heard of. And yet, within a fey
I years aAerwards. Uiere were no two names of roei
\ more known or more generally celebrated. I r w
engR^re into a large acquaintance and variona fam
liaiiues, we set open otn* gates to the invaders <
most of our time, we expose our life to a quotidia
ague of frigid impertinence, which would make
wise man tremble to think of. Now, as for bein
known much by sight, and pointed at, I cann<
comprehend the honour that lies in that Whs
soever it be, every mountebank has it more the
the best orvtor, and ihe hangman more than t|
lord cbiet justice of a city. Bvery creature h)
It, both of nature and art, if it be anyway extr
ordinary. It was as often said, This ia thi
Bucephalus, or This is that Incitaius. wIm
they were prancing through the Airets, as Tfa
is that Alexander, or This is diat Domi ian ; ai
truly for the latter I lake luciutus to have be<
a much more honourable beast than his msuttt
and more deserving tlie consulship than be t]
empire,
*' I love and oommend a true good fame, 1
cause it is the shadow of virtue ; not that it do
an^ good to the body which it accompantea, ||
it IS an effieadous shadow, and like that of j
Peter, cures tbe d iseases of others. The best ki!
of glory, no doubt, is that which is reflected tti
honesty, such as waa the glory of Cato and Ai
tides ; but it was painfol to them both, and
seldom bcBefidal to any man while he liv^.'*
Having given a specimen of Cowley pit>se,
append one of his poetry : —
** A mi^ty pain to love it ia.
And 'tis a pain that pain to miaa ;
But of all pahi the graatest Min,
It is to love, and love iu vain.
Tirtur now nor noble blood.
Nor wit by love is un«|gniood.
Gold alone does passien move,
Oald monopolises love !
A cone on her and on the „
Who this traffic fint began !
A cone on him who feand the ^ ^ .
A cune on him who daggped the store !
A enne, all eunes else ahovw.
On him who used it fint in Idre !
Gold beget in brethren hate ;
Gold in femiliea debate;
Gold doea ftiendabip aeparate ;
Gold does dvil wara ersato;
These tba amaller hams of H i
Oold»alas! doea love
HjiPtnrit.
BT THE AUTHOR OF "tHE ART OK RKA90XIX0.**
No. IV. — THE PHILOSOPHY OF LAXdUAGE.
Ix order to snlwtantUto the opinion reganlinp the cognation or twin-birth of Thought
aadSpficch advocated in our preceding paper, it might, at a casual glance, appear requisite
to jinrre tlie original identity of all languagea; it might ^com that, if thought necessarilj
ud iBevitablr aecka to be enrcsturcd in words — if all men are endowed %vith essentially
similar poirers of intellect — if common and universal mind-laws preside over and influence
tke dertlopinent of thought — and if Language*, which is but tho exj»ression of thought, U
{omatiTelj regulated bv the same laws which govern the evolution of ideas— the same or
tmaioOj similar phonic syllables i<hou!d appear in the -root-forms of the verbalisms of
ertfjlnuDan tongue. Our opinion, however, does not necessitate such an advocacy of the
ifcwhte fitness of certain sounds to express certain ideas. We arc vot compelled by the
npr^iichwe have taken to establish any natural connexion between sonnds and the ideas
tf wlueh they are denotative. All that it is nec;^s.snry for us to substantiate U, that in
^pcfdi-fonnatioo men uniformly follow the same course, and t'onsequently that all languages
cvBcide io their generic characteristics. To accomplish this, however, it is far from
bdag wcesjMTf tJiat we should trouble our readers with elaborate details regarding the
root-amilarities of different tongues — with erudite disquisitions on speech-derivation, or
loctliy abstracts of the teachings of Ethnography concerning the affinities of Language; we
^kn tufikientlT fulfil our duty if we prove that all languages consist of the same parts —
.Toeeed upon the same general principles— emanate froTu the same mind-laws, an«l effectuate
'St isme general results. If we show that, amid much seeming diversity, there exists an
eneatial sameness — that similar classes of idea-symbols exist in ev*»ry language — that
OKDctdence in all the great essentials of structure is observable — that the differences which
airt are only in the minor accidents of thought-expression — that little that is capricious
trnle-free, and much that is law-functioned, appears in speech, and that the marks of a
cowrie nnkm between ideation and expression are distinctly and obviously apparent — we
*bn surely be warranted in inferring tiiat Thought and Speech are twin ediicts of the
^aujtality.*
h order, howerw, that the principle upon which our theory of Language is constructed
^J be clearly and definitely evolved, and lest even the nhadow of a supposition that wo
'^ft any desire of shirking the difiiculties of the speculative position which we have
^Horned should enter the mind of any one, we may be allowed to allude, briefly, to one
V tvo of those causes which we regard as having been instrumental in the production ( f
ron.
* AUuniffh insisting opun the truth of tliis proposition as involving many philosophical
'^■iwaces in our Anther stndy of Rhetoric, let it not be fur a moment imugine<i that we retract, modiiy,
v«n*iTe in any way the remark* made formerly in '* The Art of Beaconing, " vol. ii. p. 123, onent
'^- (Estmedon htUnen Language and Logic." Language is the painting of Uiought, oud is
' ts emgikaf nmsiionil and accessorial embelliahments ; Logic is Mculpturesqne, and permits
•f flwmtat only in the beauty, distinctnesa, and accuracy of /orma7 obatractiona.
L
■M
122 RIlfcTORIC. — NO. IV.
those diversitios of Language which confessedly exibt upon the face of the globe, and
'vi'hich apparently ofler bo fonniduble an argument against the accuracy of our opinion.
let. Causes influencing the Perceptivity. We have asserted that Perceptivity is the
primary element in human thought; but if the objectivities presented to the perceptive
organs are different, that difference ought surely to appear in speech. But how diverse are
the objects which present themselves to the denizen of the boreal regions from those which
ofier themselves to the view of the inhabitant of tropic climes! The one dwelU amid the
accumulated and unmelted snows of many winters — in a land which the sun-rayfl aeldoiiY
visit — where miles of ice stretch far away in unchanging continuousnese, intervaricgated
only occasionally by a stunted, sober-tinted vegetation— with a dull, leaden sky hanging
overhead, supported on the summit of enormous ice-cragM, which rise up everywhere, rupted,
irregular, and jagged, half- curtained with perpetual fugs — where the glacier, the avalanche,
and the frosted snow are ever present — where organic and vegetable hfe dwindle, and at
last become extinct; — the other inhabits a region
** Dip|>ed in tlie orient hues of heaven,"
where the choicest gifts of nature are lavibhed in profusion — a cloudless sky envelopM
the nations — the most beauteous carpets of moss and flowers are annually woven by tht
rosy-fingered goddess of summer - the trees are festooned with golden and ruby £nutt—
the animal creation attains its most gigantic development — and all things
*' Interpenetratfd lie
Witb the glories of the sky."
How different in their characteristics, and in the objectivities which impreas the bomaii
mind, are the lands which border on the ever-rolling sea, from those whose hills are iiBrvid
with the beams of heaven— the stormy vitality of the ocean, with its wild liberty and endkai
change, and the calm majesty of the cloud-piercing mountain, how diverse I The tiacklee
deserts of Africa, which no foliage colours and no moisture bedews — the shingly plains flf
Patagonia — the forest-valleys of the Amazon — the treeless pampas— the verdare-dad
llanos— the Asiatic steppes, — how opposed in feature and in idea-educing elements to iht
fiery outbursting of the Catopaxi —
** Where Andes, giant of the western star.
Looks from his throne of clouds o'er hidf the world ! **—
the peaks of the Dwalaghiri — the snowy mountains of Sirinagur — and the ccmpraoed
scenery of Europe, where rock and wilderness, lake, river, cataract, pastoral plain, and
inland sea, are heaped and piled together in rude, boll, and savage grandeur! Can mfen,
having such diverse objectivities presented to their gaze, employ the same TocableS| or
apply the same terms to the innumerable diversities of perceptions with which thej art
hnpressed? *
2nd. Causes which influence the Societarian Instincts. From the geographical
■oticed in the preceding paragraph result in a great measure the varieties of
oocapation— husbandmen, shepherds, huntsmen, commereiaKsts, &c. The bamaa mind
Ims a natural power of adapting itself to the circnmstances in which it is placed, aid
is pecnliariy susceptible of impressicms resulting from climate, employment, mode of
obtaining a livelihood, &c; the growth of habits, and of the cootinoed operatko «f tht
^ JtfcuV>»luieu*s "Spirit of La^vs/' h9jk xlv
RiiKTonrc. — mo. iv. las
I
'
m^ntnem eaDj<«Bed with tliebe, serve to imprint upon the mentalitjr a peculiar tjpe.
tkt diBraeter cf a nwritime nation diflen widely in the cast of its thoughts from
tkat «f A pastoral people; both differ from the dwellers in the mountain lands: while
the seeapAOt of ^he deeert or the forest possesses characteristics distinct firom each of
thise fiiTHtei ly mentioned. Saeh diTersitj of habits must originate distinctions of thought,
sad sadi differeoces of thought must produce diMimilarities in Language.
BotTarleiy of geographical position, while it changes the occupations, alters the raannera,
fiSBRBtiatea the thoughts, and diversifies the languages of n>en, necesititates at the same
fine a dissiraQarity in their social state, their amusements, and tbeir laws; the^ A^in
i»4ct apso the thoughts, originate societarian peculiarities, and introduce neologisms into
eonuDOD use.
ZtL Causes influencing the Analogical Faculties. In the earlier periods of society all
idneonrw is figurative and poetic — poetry is essentially harmonic: whatever tends to
ditplavthe likeness of the thing spoken of by the sound spoken, not only adds to the
nadtaos with which Language is understood, but also contributes pl«tasure. The imitative
^KohisB would therefore be early called forth in man ; hi^t analogical faculties would lend
Ub to the perception of simiUrities ; and thus Language would be improved and polished
by evtry attempt to give expressiveness to thought.
4tL Cawet hifluencing the Colligating Faculties. War, conquest, and coloitizatiuii, by
bto contact, would tend to the interfusion and amalgamntion of Ungoagea.
, by introducing new products with their native name-si^s, would add to the
of apeech. Discoveriea and inventions, by the production of new ohjeets^the
of Be» ideas — new prooeasea of labour — new combinatious of material, and new
■rieaof life, would dsmaad new verbalisms, through the instrumentality of which these
nr mtioi and eonoeptions might be cooveninntly characterized and readily discoursed
Wotda would also lose their primary significations, and by their connexion, real or
, with aoj iBiportant event, would receive a new denotation; while the aae of
vwfaalianM in figurative senses would also cause a diversity and dissimilarity in
the liataapa apoken by the several nations of the human race. This dissimilitude would
be HiU further Augmented by the want of a literature which might form a standard-*
pemi/t the formatioD of dialecta— and fix and detMtnine the true and proper use of the
vlimal toogne and aught become the referee and controller of disoourse.
Hniag tku ahowa that eertain actively operative causes may have had an infloeiMA in
tbe prsdnctka of the diversity of the languagea which men employ, we shall now praoead
toia^jMra what are the aereral clsssct into which words may be divided —the oAona wiieb
tt^ laapactivdy perfenD—And the mode of their origination in the mind.
Ut mt Aoppoae a w sellable being placed upon our globe : it is quite evident tkiit Iht
of Ida mental powers would lead him out of himself —would make him
with th« phsnomenA of the external universe. But here all is apparantiy
— 'An intertanglement of objectivities and their relations —
1
i -A mighty maze--a world without a plan **—
mil tibt pactfailar Are intermingled —complexity and combinatioA are on tftaj
^ Tht pHrffilf of (1m iBtoUoet, howwwr, cannot long endnre. It beconea munhk VmIl
124 RHETORIC. — NO. IV.
Dearly similar pbenomeua convey impressions to tlie inentality<— tht complexity of the
primitive facts of perceptivity begins to disappear — the analytic fafittlties commence to
resolve the particular and the ccmcrete into the general and the abstract — sameness of
phenomenal power is observed to reside in objectivities which differ slightly in their minor
accidents — the rude germs of generalization are sown in the mind — and classification sets
itself to the arrangement of all those bodies which meet its view, and are possessed of com>
roon qualities, and thus general ideas are eliminated. These ideas must have representative
mind-signs appropriated to them. This is a copious source of words, and forms a class of
verbalisms which must exist in everj' language. But we have only as yet supposed the
mind to have become sensible of the objective ; gradually it nmst awaken to a knowledge
of the subjective, and then
" Desires and Adoration*,
Winged PersuasiouB and veiled OesUuics,
Splendours and Olooms, and glimmering incarnations
or Hopes, and Fears, and twUight PhantaaiiM ;
And Sorrow, witti her family of sighs,
And Pleasure, blind with tears, led by the gleam
Of her own dying smile, instead of eyes,
• • • • »
Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal stream,"
must slowly arise all " moulded into thought." The clafs of thought-signs thus elicited
are called NounSf and may be concisely defined as the names of any existencesy real or
imaginary.
In attaining a knowledge of existences sufficient to enable it to classify and name them,
the mind could not avoid perceiving that the conceptions which it had formed were the
result of similar combinations of qtialities inhering in some substrata or svbsttau^ and
that by these qualities alone were the objectivities around rendered cognisable; it most
have observed, too, that some were variable and some invariable; that some belonged
essentially to the object, and could not be removed from it without causing an alteration
in the nature of the idea resulting from it, while others were subject to increase or diminu-
tion, and occasionally were capable of being absent altogether without materially changing
the generic notion of the object— were, in short, accidental. Hence arises a demand for
a new series of idea-symbols — symbols indicative, not of substantial or easential
objectivities, but of those attributes or qualities by which they impress the mind, and aie
distinguishable from each other. Such words are called Adjectives, a term which sigmfies
iJiat class of words which indicate any quaHty, property, or accident, of objects, '.
When the mind has exerted its natural activity thus far, and has gained an acqnaintanfe
with objectivities and their qualities, another and further process of thought becdOMf
ntedssary. Perceptivity has furnished the mind with ideas — has placed before it an
account of his observations on the universe without and within, and presented to the intcl*
Icctive faculties the results of the operations of analysis, abstraction, and generalisatiflOk
The primitive presentations which met the mind's eye in its earlier incursions into the
domain of knowledge have been reduced to their elemental parts. Every single word has
now become the sign of abstract thought — is the combined cfHuencc of an impression on
the mind, and Hn action of that mind upon that impression. When our notions of things
iisre been so analyzed and decompounded that we have attained name-si|^iS for each
lUlBTORlC. — !fO. IV. 125
fptdfie ebjtctifitj, and each specific qnalitj of objectiritiefl, and onr Words hare become
the ijmbob of leparate and abstract ideas, we are able so to conjoin these abstraction-
rignificant terms together, that each word shall lose its individual signification in the
fonnstioD and conveyance of some idea of greater specialization; for ^ words do not
comnimcate thought hj their separate power and effect only, but infinitely more so by
tber coooexion." Indeed, individual words are to onr thoughts what letters are to
voris — ^mere elements — whose proper power and efficacy are ooly fully evidenced when
oniioyed oonnectedly. Thus the term hnotckdgey is the name-sign of one separate
ibitrKt idea; the word power, a symbolism for another Kpecial notion; the thought -
^ is* also possesses its own specific signification ; but when all these three are
cflfl%ated and conjoined, the special individual signification of each is partly lost to
tbt view of the mind, and is roei^ed in the more specific idea which is sought to be
ubUcd by the jonction of the three terms, thus — " hnotDledge is ponferP That part
of ipeceh which thus re-synthethises ideas by the appropriate colligation of their
fjnbok^and thus expresses the simple act of judgment, in denominated the Vcrby and
^ be defined as that thought-sign vhose principal use is to express the affirmations
if Ike mtdltctmd Jacttlties—ihat word which denotes the energy of the mind, which con-
acttf two or more conceptions by an assertive or affirmational process. We have said
"whose principal use is to express the afiirmations of the intellectual faculties," because,
^ fnm the difficulty which the mentality experiences in reducing the concrete and syn-
^c notions which appear upon the stage of the mind, it has seldom succeeded in wholly
^VDgagmg and disjoining really separate and distinct ideas from each other, from which
ORnnstance it happens that the verb, although in reality it derives its very birth from
^ ssMTti^e power, t. e., the judgment, is very frequently employed to co-express other
Ai dearly diilerent ideas, vis.: —
lit An attribute or quaUtff, as, I think = I am a thinking being.
Sad. X connexion between that quality and the objectivity to which it belongs, as,
I tkiak =B / and thinking are conjunct, or thinking is a property belonging to me.
M. An assertion, either directly or indirectly, of the connexion which the judgment
Ihsra are besides several minor accidental properties, such as arc technically dcnomi-
iM voice, mood, tense, number, person, &c, generally incorporated with the verb, but
^^trticn is nodoabtedly the generic connotation of the verb — that by which it is essentially
£*tingaiabcd from every other part of speech. The Verb is distinctly that term by
*iudi several special words are conjoined into one logical expression or compound Wokd,
ai Waoe its name.
Ths three preceding classes of Terbalisms may be regarded as the most necessary signs
>*<pisite £»r thought-expression. But the activity of the mind permits it no rest, and
it *'giea on refining," feeling new wants and supplying them, making a luxury even of
bj exerting its s»thetic powers to render language musical, harmonious, and
Kan begins to feel fatigued with repetition— sameness jars harshly on his ear ; it
that DOOBS, whOe they enable him to express his thoughts regarding objectivities,
' Art of ResMning," vol. i. p. H2, First Edition.
ISC BHKTOHIC. — VO. IV.
ilo not poMess Um capacitj of indicmting the presence or abeence of tke obj«cir aod tlist
their use freqnentlj lends to periphrabtic tedioosness; hence his in?entiTe powers are eaUcd
into action to sap|iljr a sign which might fulfil the followiag pre-reqnisitesy via»:—
1st, Be a subittitate, or that which stands /br a noan.
3od. Denote the presence or absence of the objectivity.
3rd. Indicate the gender of the objectivity.
4t-h. Distinguish the person of the objectivitv.
All these ideas he has endeavoored to amalgamate in that class of words called PttmomUf
or those word* which stand as the repretentativee or eubstihUe* qf nouns.
As both adjectives and verbs are expressive of attributes or qualities, and as those
qualities generally admit of modification, it is necessary to have a class of words adapted
to txpress such modifications. The circumstances of an action, the place in which it
ooourred, the manner in which it was performed, the time at which it was began or ended,
the matations and varieties of the qualities of objects, cannot be denoted with anfficieat
miantaness and accuracy by any modal change which it is possible to incorporate with
any of the afore-mentioned classes of words; yet the circumstances of society, the happi*
iiass of nun, the ultimate results of the most important negotiations of men and natioot,
or the most serious investlgatiobs of philosophers, frequently depend upon the aeenracy a
inaccuracy of the information conveyed regarding time, pUue, ma$mer^ eiraimetonce^ or
modiJhaHon of quaUtff, The words which express these modifications are technically
danominatcd Adverbs,
One important purpose of speech is to communicate information regarding the relatiem
whioh the objectivities which surround us bear to each other. These relations are various,
a. ^., instrumentality, causation, space, motion, time, accidental connexion and separation,
procession, &c. Objectivities, as they are viewed in difierent lights, or for dififerent par-
poses, occupy to the minds thus engaged in observation, certain relations in reference to
each other, and these peculiar relationshipe depend upon the particular view taken of
objectivities by the perceptive agency. The earlier notices of relation would be confined
te M&sible objects; but when men began to look, with the eye of consciousness, withio,
they would observe many analogies between the external world and the universe of mind,
and would hence apply those terms metapliorically to the mind which they had previously
employed only in the expression of relations perceptible in the sense-impressing world.
All such words as express the reiation vhiek objectivities bear to each other are called
H'^fositions,
When, however, we have attained a clrar conception of the relations of objects, we
cannot long continue insensible to the fact that sentences, or thoughts, ahfo have their
relaticms, c. g,:^-
1st. Simple or accidental connexion, as, and, both, &c.
3nd. Connexion of cause and efllbct, as, therefore, wherefore, that, hence, &c.
drd. Connexion of effect and cause, as, because, for, since, &c.
4th. Simple or accidental contrariety, as, but, either, or, neither, nor, &o.
5th. CoincidcDoe, or co-existence, as, although, likewue, also, as, so, thoagb, yet, &ۥ
6th. Essential contrariety, as, unless, else, neither, nor, &c.
/VA Cmi'ingencj, m, if, lest, &c.
RHKTOKIC.— KO. IV.
127
ki^oithm uttosml importMioe in discourse to be cai>Able of coojoining the aentencct in
vUch OBT thoughts ve exprwaed, in such a manner as shall exhibit the proper and
mnUal relations which these thoughts bear to each other; and hence the neoessitj of
0 dan of $^mboU indicative of the connexion of Uwughl loith though. This office is ful-
iU bj the Conjunction,
Mm cannot become wholljr an artificial being; remnants of his natural, or at least of
liule» cultiTated, state still cling to him; and, under the influence of bis pas&ions and
cootioQS, when his nature is excited to such a degree as to hold the intellect fur a moment
ia sb^ance, the natural ejaculations of pain, pleasure, surpriiie, &c., rise upon his lips.
Sodi emotional or passionate signs hold no place in intellectual forms, and are, properljr
speaking, incognoecible hj grammar or logic, although among the minor elements of
Bietorie they doubtlessly hold a place — l»t, as the signs of being moved by certain
ie^Bp; 2nd, as couTeying a sudden judgment in a brief, expressive, and emphatic manner;
^ tB gire % command, communieate a desire, or craye a benefit, in such a way as shall
iidictte the conjoint operation of the intellect and the emotions. They are, in general,
ixwirtr, merely thrust into sentences by the force of feeling, and do not modify, in any
<i£grw, the flow of the intellect in the expression of our ideas. Such sounds, therefore, as
ve significant of pfisaion, and symptomatic of emotion, and hold no syntactical connexion
c^ tie oUtor thought- sgmbob m a sentence, are denominated Interjections.
Tbe following ybrmuZa will, we hope, give a clear and comprehensive view of " the parts
^ speech,** and be serviceable to our readers as a " reference table " and a Mnemonic guide.
«
a
ii '
-a
e
t
«
M
Designation,
ItL Tlie Nouu.
2nd. The Pronoun.
3rJ. Tbe AtiyectivL-.
DtfiuUion.
^Tbe name-sign
ot any
exUttfUue,
reul or
imagiiuuy.
Species.
1st. Proper.
2ad. Common.
1
Mode qf Inflection.
- nmX, Meal, «ol)ectiT«, vertMU,
and atMlrML
Ist. Persouat.
2nil. Krlative.
3nl. Adjeclive.
Number, Gendur, and
Ca»ti.
J"'
umlMT, CSender,
Case, and Person.
/ The narae-siprn /* IsL Proper.
' of any ciaihty,) 2iid. Common.
1 S(.ii..o( I 3rd. Purticipnt.
DeffreeB of Comparison.
4th. Tbe Verb.
Detignation.
fist. Tbe Adverh.
Z
c
> ^
2nd. The Pre;»osiWon
3nL The CoajuncUon
1
1
jiiuon. V
■1
an exUtence. V
Tbe name-»iKi> [
of an \
affirmation, i
4tb. Numer.il.
IsiL Active-Trnnsitive. \
2uil. Active-Iutrunsiiive. I
3rd. Passive.
4th. Neuter.
I Positive.
r Cumpai-attre.
) Superlative.
41k. The iBleQflction. •[
Definition.
Th»» niime-vign of any
modiiicaiiun of an attribute
or aasertion.
The name-Aign of tbe re-
lationa which existences
bear to each other.
The narae-nipn of the re-
latiun« by which sentences
are connected.
The fign of any men'al
emotion.
(
Voice, Mooil, Tense,
r Number, and Person.
Species.
1st. Time; 2nd. Place; 3n!.
Maimer; 4lh. Quality; 6th. Cir
cuiUHtauce, &c.
N.B. Some adverbs admit of
inllrxion by comparison.
IsL Time; 2nd. Place; 3nl.
Motion ; 4th. Caatalion ;5th. Con-
nexion ; Gih. Separation : &c.
I Caasative.
IsL Connective. ■ Afp^ement.
Contingency.
Diversity.
Alternation.
, Contingency.
3nd. Diifjanotive.
1st. Emotional.
2nd. IntellectUHl.
3r<l. Mixedly Emotional and
IntcUeotual.
128
CAN CHRISTIANS, CON8I8TKNTI.Y WITH THKIR PRINCIPLES,
We subjoin an extract from Coleridge's Hymn in the Valley of Chamonni, in ir!
the parts of speech are indicated by figures, in the following order — Noun, Adjec
Pronoun, Verb, Adverb, Preposition, Conjunction, and Interjection: —
43*1 **2 1
Hast thou a fhano to stay the niomiug star
6321 7234 *
In his steep coarse. So long he aeem« to pause
6 3 2 2 18 3 1
On thy bald awAil head, () sovran Blanc!
• 1 7 1 6 3 1
The Arv6 and Arvciron lU thy base
4 5 7 3 2 1
Kave ceaselessly ; but thou, most uwiui form !
4 6 6 3 2 16 1
Bisest from forth thy silent sea of pine
5 5 ti 3 7 6
Boa' silently ! Around thee and above
24*172 2 2
D«q) is the uir, and dark, substantial, black,
• 2 1 4 3 4 3
An ebon mass ; methinks thou piercest it
5 7*1 75345
As with a wedge ! But when I look again
3 3 3 3 2 13 2 1
It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine
3 16 1
Thy bubilatiou frum eternity !
8272 1 3 463
0 dread and silent mount .' I gaze upon thee,
5 35 26*2 1
Till thou, still present to the bodily sense,
4 6 3 1 2 U 2
Didsi vauisu from my thoughts ; entranced in prayer
3 4*25
1 worshipped the inri»ibIo alone.-f
+ " A " or " An," and '* The," are usually denominated Articles, although, in our opinion, " i
'* An " is a numeral a(\jcctive, and " The" a demonstratiTe adjective pi-onoun.
Ixtliginn.
CAN CHRISTUNS, CONSISTENTLY WITH THEIR PRINCIPLES, REN
SUPPORT TO THE BRITISH STAGE ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
** Pictured morals charm the mind.
And through the eye correct the heart."
In our path through life, "what a strange
contrariety of opinions spread themselves
out before ns ! What conflicts of ideas and
sentiments prevail around us ! And how
o^eD Mte we called upon to select from the
maze thus created, the path most lik<
lead us to right and sound conclusi
But comes there no good of this ?
think we may answer in the afHrnu
By the wholesome exercise of the rea9<
powers thus occasioned, we become I
prepared for the great conflict of life. 2
REIfDBB 8UPPOKT TO THE BRITISH STAOK ?
129
r, whikt karniog to respect the opinions
«f others, we become accustomed to form
epiiuons of onr . own — and what is equally
important, we hesitate not, when occasion
THjaires, fearleaslj to assert them. But we
mast change the scene of our musings.
The '* British Stage" is the subject before
o. What pleasing associations rush upon
flv owmorv ! What a lon^ line of illustrious
Bunes pixsents itself to our mental gaze !
Abuo^ them men who have long since
faieed from the troubled stage of earthly
ttistecce, bnt whose lives were no less an
Wnur to their calling than to their country.
Hoff forcibly wc are reminded-~-
"Ttcre triw a period when the stage
'<f u Ibought to digniry the ajfe,
WIa learned meu were aeeii to bit
Tpoa the l*eiiebes of the pit :
^iben to his art and nature true,
Oarrick h\% various pictures drew,
Wbtle er'ry passion, ev'ry dioufcht,
Hf u> perfection fully wrought —
bjr luuore's self supretaely taught"
Aad hm the additional f;ict stands re-
corded before us, that —
" In those ffood times none went to see
The mere etBtcts of scenery :
Th« constant laugh, the forced grimace,
Tl^ vile distortions of the face.
lu Uiijse good thnes none went to scv
Piemts and downs in comedy.
Men sac perfection to discerii,
Jfd learned critics tcent to learn."
Bat we most come still closer to the
'Utter of inquiry, and before arriving at a
ooDdaaoa, two previous questions present
iboiieelv€» for solution. First — ^What is
tlie purpose of the stage ? Secondly — What
•R the principles of Christianity ?
The parpose of the stage we shall best
videntand by tracing it to its origm. What,
Una, do we find to have be<'n the origin of
^ £iigli»h drama ? Was it with a view
I* the promotion of yice and immorality
jbat it todc its rise ? We have no proof of
^ Were its promoters men of base and
^cpnved habits, possessing all the rices, and
^ few of the Tirtues, of mankind ? His*
^ftib to proclaim such a £ict. Was it
^ ill early tendency antagonistic to the
■int aad purposes of Christianity ? We
■»• ban vnable to discover any such re-
chL What, tiwa, doet history say ? It
**fi thai Hm ckr^ were the first persons
^ k 1Mb wwttUf introdaced dramatic
entertainments ; that cathedrals, monas-
teries, and not nnfrequently parish churches,
were selected for their performance ; that
the representations they embodied were
chiefly taken from the supernatural eventn
recorded in the Old and New Testaments, and
from the lives and histories of the sainti*.
These facts are not reoord<Hl on doubtful
authority, but are b.is<?d upon the best his-
toric proofs. Wm. Fitz-Stephen, a monk of
Canterbury, in a work written between the
years 1170 and 1182, whilst contrasting
England with various parts of the continent,
he had visited, says : — *' London, instead of
common interludes belonging to the theatre,
has plays of a more holy character; repre-
sentations of those miracles which the holv
m
confessors wrought, or of the sufierings
wherein the glorious constancy of the martyrs
did appear." AVo see nothing particularly
unchristian about this, considering the age !
These "miracle-plajs" continued for several
centuries, accompanied by another descrip-
tion of entertainment, called "moralities,"
in which the senses, passions, aficctions,
virtues, and vices, were personified, and con-
stituted the characters. Bnt these, too,
were of a moral tum^ and contrived to "en-
tertain as well as instruct." Thus saith
history.
We arrive, then, at this result, that tlii^
English drama originated in the attempts of
the early ecclesiastics to impart religions
and moral instruction to the people, and that
this attractive form of instruction was se-
lected upon thft principle, that "pictured
morals " do *^ charm the mind, and throng! i
the eye correct the heart."
Next, let us inquire. What are the prin-
ciples and practical aims of Christianity f We
speak of Christianity here in its highest and
purest sense, and as distinct from all sects
and parties — these too often resulting in its
misunderstanding or abuse. The true basis
of all christian principles and precepts must
be in the acknowledgment that man is an
immortal but responsible b<*ing, endowed
with the highest faculties, destmed for the
most noble ends, and formed for the enjoy-
ment of the most perfect bliss: but that the
perfect attainment and enjoyment of all
these is dependent upon the manner of his
own life and actions. Hence he shonld
cultivate virtue for its own sake, and abhor
vice and all wrong-d<ung. The prafitLcal
130
CAN CBBIbTIAS^t COMISTENTLT WITH TMEA PfUVCIPLES,
aim of Chri»tiaiut J is to keep thcw troths
ooostantlj befora the mind, und thcrdore s
Christ isu eonld not ooni-istemlj coanteniiDcc
junjtbing which be believed to h«ve a oon-
tnu7 efiect.
So far we shall all probablj agrta. But
having seen what are the objects of eaehy
we have next to inquire, how far they sre
compatible with each other, whether there
rousts anjf hsrmonj between them, or whether
thej are neceaarihf sntsgonistic. We »ay
ueeestariijff because we prefer adhering to
first principles when there is nothing implied
to the contrary. If we view things in the
position they o>me to assume when abwedy
we shall often err in judgment The pre-
scot question is one particularly liable to
wnog oonstmction nnleas the principles
involved be kept stcddily before ns.
It may greatly simplify onr position if we
here look both at Christianity and at the
stagi in a lypreaeniafire form. Taking the
pr^het as the repretieutative of Christianity,
and the po€t as the representative of the
stage— which he clearly is, — how stand these
personages in relation to each other ? It is
the mi^on of the prophet to bring mankind
generally into closer oommnnion with
heaven ; it is the mission of the poet to
jpTtpart mankind for snch commnnionship.
Various methods may be and are employed.
Can the stage fairly claim to be one of
them ? We sssert that it csn, and there-
fore that Christians con consistently render
it their support.
Berhaps we can give no more correct
definition of the instrumentality of the stage
in this country for the purpoMS we claim
for it, thsn when we say, its tendency is, and
ever has been, ** To show Virtue her own
feature, Scorn her own image, and the
very sge and body of the time his form
and pressure." Nor shall we err when
we say that the result of such teachings
must bs
<i To raise the geniot and amend the heart"
We know of no method of instruction yet
devised which embodies so largdy the ele-
ments of success as dramatic representations.
It has been truly and eloquently remarked,
that what wo reaJ, often fails to produce a
lasting impreasiun upon the mind ; what we
Aeorqjr, finds no permanent abiding place in
themamory; but that whichweasK, becomes
engraven upon the recolleetien— it sarvivei
all the vicissitudes and ehaagea we may
encounter, its image is ever at our call, and
not unfrequently acoompanies its poasessor
down to the last hoiin of hia earthly sojimm^^
Many, no doubt, hava in themselves observed
this fact Those who have not may apply
a simple test Let them take one of 8hak-
speare s plays— ^ooftstl, if they please ;
read it carefully until they AcpMb they un-
derstand it; afterwards let them see it acted
by one of the masters of his art-^for instance,
as Macready would sot it; and then apply
the test. In the first case, he would have
onderbtood the character and the plot
only in accordance with the narrow limits
of his own conception. In the latter, he
would see it as it presented itself to the
imagination of the great bard, who, with his
" eye in a fine fretisy rolling,* distributed,
through the point of his pen, that immor-
tal genius with which the Great Author of
our being had inspired him. Which im-
pression, think ve, would be the more last-
ing ?
It is not for us to trace the eatut of this
additional force of impression msde through
the medium of the eye. The fact exists,
and has existed in all ages. The action
thrown into dramatic peiforroances has no
doubt much to do with the impression •&
crvated. Ctcero was evidently of this opin-
ion, for ho says, *'It does not so much
matter whai an orator says, as bow be says
it" Hcrao$ also clearly made allusion to
the known sympathy which good actora
create with their auditors, for he says —
'* With those who lauffh our todal joy appears.
With those mho rnoura we ■jriopaUiizr in tears
If yon would have me weep, begin the stnun.
Then I ahall liBel your •arrows, fMl your peun.*
I
We know that some of our azgtim€>nt
may be probably used agsinst us. It nrui
be said, for instance, that that which i
potent for good may, in the hands of ev
and designing men, be made potent for evi
Such reasoners would eagerly ranind x
that they sre not all lessons of mrtme wbic
are inciilcated from the stage. That scmti*
times men whose virtues are £ew, eompaun
with their vices, both rtpretent and are r
presented. We cannot deny the fact V
have no particular desire to do so. For
as well as to show ^' Virtue herewa feat tar
il U (Im tba obJMt of tha Uag* to ilii
bW tkftn b]! tba occuioDsl introdoction
AuBlcn vhau &tm niort ftrcihij portr
IIh imumwij Mui orrUin malU cf wiw
^7 Bcwdea, »lut do inch objtcti
■r 10 tb* podic dcclmtion, thmt
" Tkr b ■ DiBnita of Ml M(htAil Dim.
% pWL tb* c
rer which on «a ancrr
emmi toac«mitMiii of loDg-pncIiscd vie
h ii aDlr > T»ri«lii>n of nit»nt, lEiuliog
ntrnd.
Date with ■
Mrnin
1 («ld«K7 for J{Oqt! or for t
_ t bold it man tbu probablo tl
tb 1 Ml farciblf dtliTfred from
mt (iMt, tb« aobta ind tlic b
Miw ap to ccimn tb* pin
3-X,
« pnifligal* I
imn atrnck bom* lo imny > ht
*Uci bad nmaincd anntorcd nnder toil
ad fobpa mn ebriatiui tfachinei.
bn* btard oM mm nput wiib gmt •
BMtBB* tb* impronoiu pti>dn«d upm tt
a tb)ir jootb bjwitnaraing ibrpcrfomu
< lb* prea (ntitlad ffwrj* Baniietll,
rf MKbfT nndtr the till* of the ;
*irifii Affrtnliea, both of them (xbibii
■^ iDona )»(ona, *nd MprcuUr *da|
tr;*B^mra itinmg id lif*.
Bnt then il a chn of pntoo* who
lirj aiaot, axuriauiotafy object to
■Hitaftoa oljletion tar tnj pnrpnt* w
tnr, ■hMbcT good or eTil. Of Mirh
■■til Snt ioqiuia, whtt iiit*ryret»tiiin '
pat Bpon that portion of tb* iPfipt
oM Tarabki^'' and Ihm wo ir
fart thnr attcntioo to the tm*
|W *f SvtioD, u tbn* dncribed b;
•Tia>«M balb hifl a Ughv nd
IWiM: ktothapoMlblacoBHnd
BRITISH tTAaa? 181
' vriiuiDjofllicbrigblnlhumiDihoiights
Men oahered into tiigleiica to aerra th*
m of fiction or miniiter to the poetic
i|[ of /ones t And ira thej to b*
!d lew f^uaUo on Ifain account ?
tba dnuu il Inatiuctiai' our brarti,
lead* ua into tba far Tef>ioDa of bar
117, and raliera oa of our bnnlcn «(
lI depreaum —
whateyer anpect we ?iew the "Inge, it
ucs a large cUim upon oar sjmpulhiee,
t is Kith coniiderabJe siitiiif action that
note a modem author, who Rivea noble
uice to the feelings we en'ertain: —
1 moral influence of dnuiiiilie repre-
liou on the mannen of a people il fai
er tlisn majgenerall/ be iapp«edi and
IT opinion tbere i* no claaa of peraoni
dnerving of public esteem than thoaa
I of histi
oho a
d their praise or ceamre. Botii dm-
lit ami managert who enJeocoar to
die ciaraclir of Ihe ilnge, ainnol be
iiffhlg commended or rtvarded; vhue
(u ignabln ttudj/ lo gratifs <• deprattd
, ore Jit a^tclt for lie arwreii repra-
F ill be observed that wo have mora
lularij addressed ournelTel 10 llie origin
ipiril of the British atagB ot drama,
to itiprrsen(pon<''on. Wedonotahnt
CTM to 111* fai-t that it ia now in manj
' - — • ■ • --* woald
.to of
_ II diflerent ffoin what
: it be. iiut wo altribola this at
gi to th* almt«t entire neglect, 01
eitiptnoai indifference, of thaea
yld be its chief sapporli
I rcncllDn commenced about tn
Reformation, when puritanic
laiucpriA. placed its iron ban
former paaliines and uaagei of I
caused even religion itnelf Ii
irb of lackrloth and ashes; it
ed llitti, in aome panieulaTt, _ —
ent daj. We deem luch austerity rf
inen aa impolitic ■■ it is abautrl. It la
ctlj contrary lo th* harmoniiing pre-
I of Chrialianity, and ntlerif oppoaed
a tba
132
CAN CHRISTIANS RENDER SUPPORT TO THE BRITISH STAGS ?
** Virtue, like the dew of heaven.
Upon the heart descends.
And draws its hidden sweetness out
The more at more U bends."
The sta^e is tlie mirror villi which every
age will reflect back its own ^* form and
]»re8sure,** if only properly held. The rea-
son of the stage beinc^ what it now is, in-
stead of what it should be, is that those who
ought to have directed it have iteglected to do
so ; and, as a natural resalt, it has been
seized upon by loss scrupulous jjersons, and
perverted from its ori^nal designs. Let the
blame fall in the right quarter.
We contend that in principle the stage
may be as consistently supported as it ever
was. It has undergone no change by which
it fozfeits its former claims. " The very head
and front of its offending hath this extent, no
more *' — it has suffered from neglect I When
a better understanding of its use, and a
more correct appreciation of its influence,
become general, it will again rise and flourish
in all its wonted splendour, saying unto man
as it once said,
" Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy ooaotnr's.
Thy God's, and truth's."
C. W., Jun.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
It seems that to secm'e the harmonious
working of our nature, recreation is neces-
sary— that the mind, jaded by the ceaseless
round of daily toil, loses its elasticity unless
relieved by amusement of some sort; gravity
must, now and again, give place to light-
someness. Among the various means of
public pastime, the theatre occupies a
prominent place. But as it is looked
upon by many christian men with feelings
of the strongest aversion, the question has
arisen — Can they, consistently with their
principles, render it their support ? No
opinion ever obtains the assent of any con-
siderable body of intelligent men unless
there is at least a substratimi of truth in it.
It would be somewhat anomalous if the hos-
tility towards the stage, manifested by Chris-
tians of all denominations, were causeless.
We shall endeavour to prove in this, and in
a subsequent paper, that their aversion is
well founded, and that their principles for-
bid that they should countenance even the
British stage.
The stage is not a representation of society,
as is frequently insisted. It has no counter-
part, except in the mind of the author.
From its nature it cannot be a representa-
tion, for on the stage that is set forth elabo-
rately, openly, and offensively, which in
society is done covertly. The workings of
tragedy do not transpire till its completion,
and hence none are demoralized ; but in the
theatre the plan is seen evolving, and the
consummation of the crime is introduced to
the beholder's view. The stage is, in this
way, the abettor of crime; the plotting and
scbeouag which in real life are unknown to
all save the criminal, are rendered quite
familiar to the playgoer. We forbear to ex-
patiate on this, though we discern in it the
germ whence springs much of the criminality
which afflicts society. In the theatre there
is, on the part of the actresses, a wanton
display of limbs and bosoms; this practaee,
it will be allowed, must have a diaastroos
influence on the minds and morals of spec-
tators. Dr. Johnson stigmatizes it; his
deliverance on the subject is to the effect,
that although he felt pleasure in being pn-
sent, he felt that in this respect dramstie
representations were exceedingly dangerom.
When a man of his moral calibre felt him-
self endangered by the lasciviousness of
such displays, let no one fancy himself supe-
rior to their insidious influence. Let him
recall to mind, that " the devil best fish^
for the souls of men when his hook is baited
with a lovely limb." One may feel grati-
fied, but the tendency of such exhibiti<Hi8 is
to give an unhallowed stimulus to the ima-
gination, which surely is at all times fenrid
enough without such stimulus.
Whatever may be the element by which
those who attend are attracted, one thing is
certain, that the general audience do nol
present a fair specimen of the moral worth
of society, — there is a preponderance of the
inferior orders. We do not say that no
religious persons attend the playhotise; \mX
we do say, that the bulk of those who cloeely
attend are persons of disreputable charac-
ter; and from that we maintain, that as the
Christian is commanded to avoid even the
appearance of evil, he cannot, consistently
with his principles, attend a place in
IB ROXODOPATHT TBUS IN PRINCIPLK AMD BEICBFICIAL IN PRACTICE? 133
be ia brought into collisioa with men whose
hibiu are diametricallj the opposite of his,
» br that his own is pkoed in jeopardy ; and
whether or not theatricals in themselves are
bad, the fact that he there mixes with those
froa whom his habits maj possibly sostain
detriment, is sufficient of itself to deter him.
It is troe that a chamberlain controls
the literature of the staj^e; but when we
rKoIleet how much may be done by dress,
br tbe modulations of the voice, the twink-
Ling of the eye, and the motion of the hand,
to pre an unchaste turn to an expression or
mtimcnt in itself faultless, little confidence
Deed be placed in the guarantee which such
aa G&ial can gire for the morality of the
sta;^ «hen actors haTe the desire to trans-
oms, sod have an interest in transgressing.
ETaooa is easy to the ingenious caterer for
jwUle amusement; he may adhere to the
kltcr of the authorized drama, and yet so
invcstie it by levity of manner as to reverse
its onpnal tendency. When we recollect the
■otivM by which managers are actuated,
sad the irregularities of the players* lives, it
viU be seen how much is to be feared from
this senroa. The riyalry between managers
is not which ahaU produce such plays as
thsB lash public vices or elevate public
■ools, but which can produce such as shall
attract ** bumper houses," and secure them
tk largest returns. In this we do not cen-
sure managers; they merely look to their
own interest, as other men do; their better
judgment is kept in abeyance. We censure
the stage, as it is open to be prostituted to
the interests of managers : the evils resulting
[ to the community from the interference of
' private interest are, in this case, of more than
ordinary magnitude, and are, of course, the
more to be deprecated. We are debarred
from having that higher order of theatricals
which might be beneficial; and so long as
theatres are directly dependent on the public
for support, so long must inferior theatricals
prevail, for the few only can appreciate in-
tellectual theatricals.
Aleanwhile the British drama, including
as it does the works of Wycherly, Congreve,
Farquhar, and a variety of others of doubt-
ful morality, cannot be homologated by the
Christian ; as he must witness the Buccesses
of high-handed ruffianism, sot forward in the
most alluring colours; as he must witness so
much of craftiness and intriguing in the
ascendant, so many painful exhibitions of
human frailty flauntingly paraded, for the
little that may be gathered, he cannot, he
dare not, comitenance it. Its tendency is to
relax rather than to strongthen the moral
nature: it is incapable of disciplining the
heart, but potent to wean the mind from the
momentous concerns of tbe life after life.
Aristides.
^I)iln5nplii[.
IS HOMOEOPATHY TBUE IN PRINCIPLE AND BENEFICIAL IN PRACTICE ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
r
Ii a recent number of a popular publi-
cation,* a writer of manifest ability remarks
"-^Ths world would be spared a chaos of
Miliovenj and contention, difficulty and
^nbt, if those who profess to be students of
*itiral scienca would but adhere to the
^■■iigly easy and obvious rule of ascertain-
HM^ heibr* they adventure upon argu-
* " Tke CrilSe : London Literary Journal "— re-
*b*iq; a wovk bjJ. C. Colqaboun. E«q.. *' A
AsMvy 9t IUgie,^itBherart, and Animal Mag-
ment:"^ and then mokes allusion to the pre-
dicament into which the '' Merry Monarch"
led the members of the R(>yal Society, by the
question, "Why is it that a live salmon
weighs more than a dead one ?** The question
was solemnly debated, and a multitude of
astute reasons were adduced as accounting
for the fact. It seems for a time never to
have entered the learned heads to try the
experiment; and when it was tried, it turned
out to be a delusion altogether I Tho writer
then proceeds to remark—" Even do^u \o
134 IS nOMOOPATIIT TRUK IN FRINCIPI.B ASD BEKEFICIAL 19 PKACTICK T
onr own dMj, men of science haye persisted
in talking when tfaej bboold be trying^ and
in proviiif; by onanswerable argnments that
things which are cannot &«, and tlioae mwt
be which are not. Obviooslj science is a
qnestion of fact. U is useleM to assail
asserted facts by reasons for their non-exis-
tence. There is btU one tpay of disproving
them, and that is by trying the experiment.
Nothing less than the experiment^ carefully
made by himself will justify any tnan in
denying the existence of a fact in nature
which is asserted by some other man of equal
ability and integrity. Plain as this mie
would a})i)ear to common sense, the history
of science sliows as thit it is sybtematically
Delected. Almost every science has been
met with denials, founded upon some reasons
why it could noi be: and even honest and able
men have continually so far forgotten them-
selves as to Kght a new fact with argument
instead of experiment
" The writers do not say, as they should do,
* I have tried and find them ix>fail. I have
put the a^'i'erted exjieriment to the proof, and
it has not yielded the results.* But they say
only, ' For the reasons following I absert that
it cannot he true * Now, would it not be far
more satisfacttiry if, instead of such an inter-
imnable form of discussion, th<jee who detty
the asserted fact would make a fair trial of
it, not with in.*«truments supplied to them by
the other uide, hut in their own families,
among their friends, their children, their
servants, in circumstances in which collusion
is impossible, and with persons whom they
know to be iiiciipable of imposture." Now
we have put ourhclves to the pains of making
this rather lengthy extract with an especial
object in view — it is, that having been con-
signed to everlasting oblivion by the over-
powering diatribes of "Vindum** and hi»
clique, we wi»h. l)eforc taking a final farewell
€f this world and all its vanities, to follow
the footsteps of the immortal Cobbett — who,
as every b«idy knows, left a very enduring,
and we miiy say well-merited, " legacy to
parsons'* — w fur as to bequeath to the writers
before refi'rred to the said extract, together
with all the moral lessons and sound rea-
soning therein contained, fur their own
especial use and benefit; and, in token of
oar sincerity, we set our hand — nervous
though it be, by reason of onr melancholy
A/0 — io the ibot or end «f this oar present
paper, as will be seen when we therennto
arrive.
Having thus relieved our conscience, we
feel better prepared to make the best nxe of
the few moments still allotted to us. Assum-
ing, then, that the same rule which applie*
to natural science also applies to medical
science— namely, that its claims should not
be met and refuted by mere asserti«m, but, if
at all, by er/terintent and proof —how, thes,
stand our opponents with regard to onrselvesf
We, as supporters of the claims of Homoeop-
athy, assert its theory to be sound — that
there are numerotis proofs to be adduced nf
support of the principle, similia simUAm,
several of which we have pointed out — that
in practice HonKsopathy has proved itself
worthy of the cUims made in its behalf, in
proof of which ** Irene** adduced statistics, in
the last number of this magazine, which
must sorely puszle our opponents, and
which, if they can, let them refute. How
have these {vopositions been met ? Us
the nnti-Homopopathists come forward and
say, " We have, by cool and careful experi-
ment, tried the principles you laid down, nd
find them erroneous?** Oh, no I Such a
course would be far too simple and oommoa-
place fi>r such learned, and withal such Mff-
confident, personages. Does the snn err ii
the performance of his daily mission ? Does
the moon depart from her accustomed tra^?
Wherefore, then, should these profouDd
reasonors err ? Alas ! fur the vanitj of
human greatness! See how L. G. G. endea-
vours to impose a task upon us which he
knows belongs to his party, and not to ours.
Quoting the words of another, he says, " Let
the Homoeopathists select fifty healthful meo.
and in the use of fifty given roedicinca, kt
them produce in each of these fifl j the sepa-
rate malady of which that medicine is the
professed cure; let this be done, and «e
fhall at once believe that such medictnei can
cure the fifty individuals upon whom tht
said maladies have come from natural cmum."
Such a requirement is as contrary to dl
known niles of debate, as it is to
sense. We are content with our
We put faith enough in it to tiy it; «t
are satisfied with the result, for we §at
benefit. What do we want more? b k fir
those who do mat beliere in it to addofit
proofs of iu fallacy. Let not L. G. GL tUA
to fin4 us trippmg in this particnlar. We
ATHT TBDB XX FRlXCirLB AMD BENBHCIAL ISC PBACTICE 7 185
■ debstc to be cftogbt bj ladi a
be Best Rpeciei of " hocussing **
Imcd molted to bj our oppo-
idin^f that all mere arjETumfnti
m Ihejhet that cures hare been
HooHBopathic treatment, they
it errtaiolj ooald not liave beon
s admiBinteral— it must hare
rtfulatioma imposed which
' What think jon, reader,
it not sound like thi*.?'" If
icprire yon of actual existence.
aaat undermine and ruin your
Gcnerons prmnpiinfpi of the
t I Bat if our cures only came
r the treatment imposed, why
le faculty tbe common honetity
if patients to adopt at lea^t this
*" curative art " ? Which are
—that oar HiHmeopathic prac-
r more koma^ than the hau;;hty
Hippocrates and Gakn, prrftr-
. to give their patients aomefhing
Bey; er that they are more skil>
t better knowied^ of tbe human
i therefore enabled at least to
f ' by what means we need not
The position assumed by our
tya them open to either or both
Bcci. This is a point we vhall
rt answered. If dietaij regula-
fect a cure for one class of medi-
mm, why not for another ? It
Kt tbe patient wants, and he will
Ij to dispute about tbe means
» the present moment we fasd
It the wrath which ** Vinrlum *'
ai BS in his last paper was
and ffarjfSignifjing— notking."
B wrong ! Both our wit and our
fldn to " ViDchim ** fur giving
r the poiweiiiinB cf botli) were at
tiflw, and wa cenfens it. How
B wm bUnd as not to see that in
Mr W9 stTBck the riglit nail upon
Wo fflh, whan wt made allusiun
of awfioal isbirpef, that we
tlfoi open to tlM accusation
aad wo were disposed
illsi tho ifliHMivo paragraph ; but
■ft «r OBT Birfuui (we woB*t say
which) prompted us to let it remain, and
behold the confirmation it has receired at
the hamis of ** Vinci um ** ! After didmissiBg
us with a few laslien, he turns, scourge m
hand, upon that important personage, the
ruBMc, and hearken:— **ire know, and the
public know too -at least it ouji^lit to know,
only [mind !] it ghuts ita tyea blindly to tke
fact— \h&i under the oM ayttem^ and too
often uuler the irnfjroved state of things,
meHieime ia aent and charged fitr which w
not abaohttthf meceaaary," What think yon,
reader, of the (act thus boldly proclaimed,
tliat the faculty i>o plunder the public f
*But," aeriously adds ••Vinclnm,*' •'can
people grumble at a practice which they ohm
am instrumental in retaining? ** Does ** Vin-
cinm" moan that p«H>ple should patronizo
Homoeopathy, and thus rid themitelves of
the old practitioners altogether? He docft
not say, thervforc we may adopt what in-
ference wc pleaxe. But he further adds,
*' if lhi*y (the public) will not pay a medical
man fi»r his time, which is ini^timably pre-
cious, for his health, which is equally so,
and for an expensive education, can thcr
complain if the fee which is so fairly due
for ]>rofe.«-8ional advice, is grw/yingfy extorted
by means of wipnt/eutonal bilfa far mmc-
ceaaary items f * 1 hus spea k eth ** Vinclom ;"
need we say more upon the point ? We
were right, and ** Vinclum ** has pruclaimed
the fact to the world I
The pooition of the intiniry stands thai: —
W*e assert that HomcMpatliy is sound in
theory, and we adduce our reasons for ar-
riving at Kuch a conclusion. We assert that
Homorapathy is beneficial in practice; we
base this assertion on actual experience^ and
produce statistics in support of it. And
until equal powerful tcbtimony— that is,
pniof — be adduced to the contrary, we ihall
have no cause to alter our opinion.
There is one other point to which we iHsh
to make a passing allusion. It is to the
attempt made by one of the nejrative writers
to cast a slur upon the character of Hahne-
mann, the original pmpounder of the Hqombo-
pat hie theory. I'his is as mean aa it b
unjust We have consulted sereral of the
best authorities upon such matters, and
find it admitted on all hands that he wm
I decidedly talented. That he manifrotcd hb
ability early in life, which led to hit baing
placed to the itndy of nedidiiB*, UmI ^\k
186 tS UOMCEOPATHT TRUE IN PBINCIPIiK AHD BSXEFICIAL IK PRAOnCB ?
gained a high repatatioa in the hospitals as
a judicious and skilful practitioner;" and
that, so far from wishing to build up his
fame at the expense of his reputation, his
fame was established before he advocatedi or
had even discovered, Homoeopathy.
One word by way of conclusion. If it
should so happen that we have found favour
in the sight of any of our readers during
the period we have had the pleasure of ad-
dressing them, it may be of interest to them
to learn that, after having carefully noted
our symptoms dniing the past few hours,
we begin to have some hope for ourselves.
We find — and we should wish to do the
justice to state that we can only attribute
the fact to the mirtli we have enjoyed at the
expense of nor eoergetio opponents— that
after the old maxim of ^ Ungh and grow
fat," we do really fancy obrselres a little
plumper, and a tinge of scarlet has even
ventured to trespass again upon oar woe>
worn cheeks, so that we may say we are in
a fair way for doing well, even yet; and if a
few days' quietude does not completely re-
store us, we shall have immediate recourse
to our " pet cure,** Homoeopathy; should wt*
derive no positive benefit therefrom, our only
hopo will be that we may sufler no more
inconvenience from it than we have sufiered
from the "sluicing dose" administered tti
us by the " drug-and-bottle men," in whos^^
favour we have made the bequest with whicli
we commenced. C. W., Juu.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
I HAVE frequently fvlt great satisfaction
in reading the articles on the different sub-
jects brought forward in your valuable
journal. A journal has long been required,
as a medium through which truth and error
could meet on fair grounds, without the com-
ment, the prejudice, and the bias of the
editor, so that the gold may be separated
from the dross, and that which is of great
price from the worthless and pernicious.
Such a medium is now to be found in the
British ControveraiaUst, where subjects are
discussed on equal grounds — a boon unprece-
dented. A joumaJ, thus started, I firmly
believe, cannot fail to accomplish tJie objects
for which it was bom, and to be of incal-
culable benefit to that most important class
of society — the young men. It is well cal-
culated to transform the thoughtless, in-
difierent, and barren mind, into the thought-
ful, intelligent, and fertile intellect; in fact,
it will be one of the great and noble instru-
ments in producing our future Peels, Bus^ells,
Disraelis and Cobdens ; our Herschels and
Bosses, our Lyalls and Bncklands, and our
Humphrey Davys. But to the subject : —
** Is Homcaopathy true in principle and bene-
ficial in practice?" I have read the afiinna-
tive articles, and have been exceedingly
burprised to find how shallow they are of
argument. They seem rather to have set
up the barricade of sarcasm, so that they
may escape being brought out to the test of
true science. WhiUt in the dark it will
remaiO| and perhaps prosper, or rather have
an increased number of adherents; like tin
skeleton of man, if put under ground am
covered with the earth, so that not a globul
of air or moisture is allowed to touch it, whil
there in this dry condition, without a particl
of light being permitted to beam upon it,
will continue in the same form; but dig it u]
and bring it forth to the light, and it wi
crumble to dust. Just so with Uoraeeopathi
as soon as its followers are unable to shriii
behind ^ome barrier, or keep back from t]
scardiing test of science, they must fall,
a natural consequence. ^^Siviilia simifib
curanUtr" is the';basis of the whole systc
called HomoBopathy; i.e., treat your patici
by those remedies which are most calculai;
to produce the morbid state in which you ti
him.
Let us suppose a person attacked w
hydrothorax, or water in the cavity of 1
chest, between the layers of the pleara« a
that the cause of this disease was not fr
acute plenritis, but from great debiUty.
is a well-known fiict in medical science, ti
a constitntion suffering from great debU
produced by yarious circumstances, as ;
poverished blood from excessive depletloxi
any means, hard study, great anxiety, ni
air, cold, check of general secretion,
neglect of health by irregular habits, <
that there is a great tendency for the eifti
of fluid in some cavity. What Trould
Homoeopath do with such a patient? Sn
he would deplete the patient btiH ; pei-}
he might feel indhied to advise the m
IS BOVOEOrATIir TRl'E IX PRIXCiri.K AMD ItKNEFICIAL IN PltACTICK ? 197
bj which thai sUte of debility was brotv^ht '
itmt, vix.. what 1 haw ain-adj mentioned. I
Iih not aboard on the very Kurface? — yft '
niblf it 19 A f«ir dc<luction, nnd to ine
(utoffiiing to their prilH•iple^) appears to Ik.'
tin acme of trnatrnpnt. I niyiwlf boil tbi*
rulbrttuie to bo attJU-kcd by tbe disease
I kave described, and wluch was caoKod by
'bHUtf. As soon as niy condition woa found
nt(for it crrpt apoo the constitution very ^
iswlion&ly) m\\ hope of my reci»i*ery bad '
mdshed ; death Memed innvitabit*. How i
*nld my case have terminate*!, bad I called
iiyxne diwiple of Hahnemann ? — the little |
b-fe, which crery nun is posst^scd of wliile ;
bit Issts. would certiiinly hare been swept to |
tw fmr winds of hearen : but I was unwise \
<icn^fa to call in one or two practitioners in i
.'firiiiiMte medicine, and, to my surp^i.'^^ 1 1
~ai SMQ enabW to watch nnd to expeneneu ;
r^ braeiicial effects of those remedies which !
nie jodicioaaly adniini»tercd — not under tbe ,
LIk principle of **simi/»a Sim iVi&ifjictfmn/tir;" j
Wt my recovery is due to the oppoKite prin-
4-iple, a principle which is founded on .xrientitic i
^uiK Gratitude and joy flow forth from my |
fwi t9 toy fellow-medicaU, who have tbu.i ;
qr tbeir skill, ander a true principle, reno- ,
sated my constitution. Nothing? has more
wpddtd me to the profi:ssion wliich I follow ;
wd I »haU consider myself honoured by still
ssioeiatin^ with men wb<Me theory is borne
•mi by tnio science, and who need not shrink j
fss oar opponents huve done) froui the scru-
dmzmjT test of the scientific world.
^\jnin. The Homopopaths pnifess to ad-
auaister remedies in infioitei>imal doses, and
;lt«y state that, if applied in larger doi^es, the
Aarr is lo«t. Now this is against all law,
•sperieBce, and the common sense of man.
I can imagine some Homoeopath, bein^r rather !
loqaacioaft. called in to attend a very fidgety
psiieat, who fancies she has all imaginable
ills, anil, at nifrht-time, is honoured with
::bsBrt, hobgoblins, &c., calming her spirit,
ad sbtaimng her faith, by these almost in-
nsiUe globules, /ririnj^ express directions
vith Rgard to dh t and to out- door exercise, |
ad aunrins: her. by all that is fr^eat and ■
'•n»,that her recovery will at once commence. '
ai prrfvct health speedily follow. And so !
it siiy, there bein^ nothing the matter, or no
■MrW eondition but what </ie/, and eaeercue,
iid aeea|iuiifln of mind c««ld eradicate; the
istter \Kiag bmum^ by her attention to the
novel, tastelesN, and (forgive the expression)
harmless /^lobules. His name is spread abroad
amon;; all her friends, and she uuhchitatingly
dei'larcs that hor life h;is bet>n saved by those
precious littli> sphcruh'S given to her by Mr.
, the HomneoiMth ; and in the same
breath declares, with the UAual perseverance
and zeal of her ckss, that the old system of
metlicine is murdering the people bj hundreds,
and evi'U thousands. I hapfiened to be brought-
in contact with a maiden laily, who occupied
much of her time in prsi«ing Homoeopathy
to the skies, and in aiming her invectives
agjinst Allopathy. Af\er a little conversa-
tion, I found th-it shesuflereil frequently from
a ptiriwlical pain over her left eyebrow, which
commenced in the morning; as soon as she
arose, and, by the U'neHcisl tendency of the
Homux>i):ithi(; globules of ehiui, the pain
wouhl depart nl>out dusk ; however, it used
to return in tbe morning;, and, by a few
more china globules, wouhl cease iu tbe
evening as before, and so on, continuing for
a fortnight, threo weeks, a month, or even
longer. Now the merest tyro at the hospital
would know at once the nature of her com-
plaint- it was of the intermittent or aguan
type, which promises intemuBsious of alter-
nate health.
A man of any knowletlge and acumen
could see through this absurd chicanery of
the Homcuopathic system, and this doubtless
forms the basis by which the Iloinuropsths
have raised their popularity. Such a basia
mudt shortly dissolve, vanish, and ^ leave not
a rack Is^hind."
The Hoimcopaths (for the want of some-
thing better to say) talk much about tbe
conversion of medical men fnmi tbe old to
the new system. I h.ive certainly heard of
so.nne me«Iical practitioners, who possess
smtfU practices, and are not of very great
note, ron«siderini; it a grxid opportunity to
become popular and busy, for the sake of
the loaves and fishes, have (laying aside all
integrity and principle) practised the new
globular theory wi:h great satisfactiim to
their purses. An instance of this 1 read a
short timcMMce. 8ouie Homa*<i|iat hie chemist
sent a box of globules to Dr. S^imp^on, of
Edinburgh, anonymously, who, on receiving
them, gave them to his little lM>y to play
with: the little child was in ecstacies with
bis new playthings; tbe globules attracted
much attention, and caused greal 4t\\^\i.
138 IS noMG-:oi*AVHr mvE ix riiiRcii»LE and benkkicial nc practice?
He would empty one bottle of ^i;lobuIcs niid
pat them into another bottlo, and so exchange
places ; afterivards lie scorned desirons to
know how man)* little balls he hiul, so he
emptied every bottle, and pit the globales
together in a ma«8, and mixed them for some
time, after which he filled each bottlo with
the mixed globules. About this time a
medical man called on Dr. Simpson, and
seeing this box of globules on the table, asked
whether he mi^ht titke them away? The
reply being in the ailirmative, he put them
into his pocket, and left. Some time having
elapsed, Dr. S. met this young medical prac-
titioner, who told him that the box of globules
he gave him had been of incalculable benefit,
and in fact produced such a revolution as to
cause him now to practise Homompathy.
Dr. S. smiled, but ^aid nothing; but. meeting
with him a short time after, told him the
fact that his little boy had often played with
them, and mixed them over and over ai;nin !
G. V. talks of specifics; the mere term
brings up in my mind, with feelinsfs the very
reverse of admuration. the names of Ilollowav,
Morison, Widow Welch, Parr, and a host of
other quacks. Shall the educated and scien-
tific medical practitioner be told to receive, as
truth, that a certain remedy is a specific for
a certain disease, irresi^ectivo of the cause and
constitution of the }iatient ? Has not tbe
medical man, who examines his patient with
a scientific eye, to obtain knowledge of the
cause of the disease, of the constitution,
temperament, idiosynrrasie?, and many other
conditions, before he is in a position to pre-
scribe? And for an M.D. to talk of specifics
for diseases, appears to me to be a perfect
solecism, and the very essence of uicongruity ;
he must either be entirely i^rnorant of the
laws of medicine, or we must attribute it to
dishonesty and hypoci'isy. What are these
j^lobules composed of? I remember a young
lady, who was rather in a mirthful mood,
taking two of these globules for a dose, irre-
spective of remedy, and, to the grt-at merri-
ment of those around her, she was as well the
next day as if she had taken nothing extra-
ordinary—a great argument for the harmless
effect of these globules, and certainly bcariii-;
out G. v., where he says that " Homoeopathy
will in no case do positive injury." In every
view, and in every aspect, has the Homoeo-
pathic system the characteristic and prominent
features of imposition. G. V. tells me some-
thing new, and I am no less astonished than
" Yinclum" and L. G. G. to hear tliat ** Homoe-
opathy emancipates mankind from bodily iUs."
This is startling! and certainly a blessing, if
true. So we arc likely to disappoint Cowper.
who says —
" Man always u, but never to be blest,"
even while this world la^ts, and that at a
time not very distant, judging from the pro-
gress of this blessed system. The best
thing the Homa>op:iths can do is, to organize
and collect all their forces together in some
of tlic golden repons, as the followers of Joi'
Smith have done. "Union is strength."
By inviting their converts to combine witli
them, doubtless liefore verv lonij tliev woul«i
secure a perfect paradise on earth.
C. W., Jun., disapproves of the condemna-
tion of new theories and systems; so do I, it'
they can be proved to be true. But new
systems and theories are divided into two
classes — 1, Those which are true; and, 2,
Those which are false: audit ismyconscier-
tious conviction that Homoeopathy belong"^
to the latter class. C. W., Jun., appears t«^
receive every thing nctp as true; approring v:
Mesmerism, Phrenology, Hydropathy, &c.:
and is, I presume, also a follower of Jw
Smith. If the Homoeopaths would allow m<*
to suggest a president for their settlement.
C. W., Jun., appears to Iks just the inar.:
for he embraces all new theories, and conso-
quenlly must be the most perfect man as vt •
found, ever progressing towards that state t^
perfectibility and goodness which he will
doubtless very soon attain ; for, being i
Honia^opath, the disciples of HahnemaiVTi wi\
emancipate his body from disease, and tl:>
followers of Joe Smith will give the correc
tenets of the most recent — ^r^o, the true —
religion. A. S,
Chelsea,
Live not on opinions; but think for thyself and act with reason, and sbnn carefnlly tV
eontagion of the mind, which communicates itself by the ways and manners of those ^
coDTcrse with.
OCOHT THE JEWS TO BR ADMITTED TO PARLIAMENT?
139
^^litiri
OUGHT THE JEWS TO BE ADMITTED TO PARLUMENT ?
AFFIRMATIVE REPLY.
It is, perliAps, one of the commonest
ciuet of our misappreheiinoiis and disagree-
units, that we are content to aigne from
coDtetfable premises, when a right principle
ii the tme toochstonc of the sahject.
Onr friend ** Veritas," in assuming the spi-
ritittl elonent to he a necessary part of the
Biitkk cmstitution, has given the use and
CQOKqKnce of first principles to mere no-
tiaai vhich he most be aware are at issue
vith the views of a great bodj of the Bri-
tnh pH^e. Thej have a painful conviction
tkatytonnd and excellent as that constitu-
tioD maj be in its essentials, there are,
aerertheless defects and disfigurements
vbieh, having surrounded themselves with
tlR kalo of antiqtutj, and the respect which
vis doe to the normal institution alone, are
poverfony mischievous in their infinencc on
tkt interests of society, and the pn^rcss of
Umi Inmun mind in its approach to truth.
Were there no other proof of this, it would
k saffident to show how the " Church and
€Cate" idea, unlawfully incorporated by lust,
r, ciucanery, sincerity, in fact, by every
of moUves and means, and by the
both good and bad, perpetuated, till it
lad become a real part of the contour of the
uiMBal system, has operated to the great
dttfiment and distortion of justice, and also
tt the contracting of minds, otherwise seu-
sUe and capable of impartiality. In the
pRMBt imtance these results are seen — first,
IB Um mind d '^Veritas" finding its funda-
Hfiit lis io such simplicities as the following :
"mmank batad to be a Ckriatian **— " lords
tftritmal" — ** commons originally obliged, not
vly to be Christians, but also to be commu-
mmau in the Church of England;" and
tWa, in the ignoring of righteous claims,
Waase they and the prior conception cannot
May God forbid that Britain should ever
^vithoot natioinel religion, and that the
ikdiliaa leligion; be it still our bulwark
^ fjarfi tiiit kt tis lemember that the
of God is within, not without; that
it is the adornment of tiie soul, and not the
mere uivestings of the state; tliat it dwells
in the highest and holiest of inward princi-
ples, and not in arrangemcnt.s uf parliaments ;
that there is really uo religion at all if there
be not individual religion, though you ac-
commodate, in a wholesale way, (^ueen, lords,
commons, and people with its name And
reputation; and that it abhors, above all
tilings, semblances, Pharisaisms, narrow-
nesses, and unjust behaviour; and there will
then Iki little fear that we shall cheat th*;
Jew under the pretence that our " constitu-
tion " requires it, or our religion cither.
If '* Veritas " had based his reasoning on
broad, immutable principles, hud he token
his start but from even one natural truth,
how great the advantage ho had possessed.
He could not be argumcntativcly strong
upon anything short of it. He should have
gone back, as W. G. says, to " the true prin-
ciples of civil polity and government," and
he would then, perhaps, not only have bettered
his cause, but his arguments would have
commanded careful consideration. As it is,
viewing them as drawn altogether from a
false source, we add nothing to what W. G.
has said, save a simple denial of their appli-
cability; but in bidding adieu to *' Veritas,"
commend to a second reflection his favourite
maxim, that *' what is morally wrong cannot
be politically right."
Passing on to the article of " Arlstides," we
readily acknowledge the general soundness
I of the propositions he has laid down in sup-
port of his views. A degree of identity in
certain particulars is essential to the utility
of any organization. There is this also to
be observed in these positions and subsequent
remarks of ^'Aristides," that they are free
from that disposition to exclusiveness and
unnatural jealousy which too frequently
characterize the words and writings even of
the most sincere of those who will not con-
cede the claims of the Jew. Belonging to
no class of intermediate, policy-spun accom-
modations, these come nearer the mask f^
140
OUOfIT TOE JB%V8 TO BB ADMITl'ED TO PARUAMB2IT ?
rationality and fairness; and if there really
existed tho.<e differenccM, tb(Me oppositions of
sentiment, interests, and sympathies between
ourselves and the Jew to the extent which
" Aristides ** supposes, or, if good government,
unity of purpose for the weal oi a nation,
were altocrether dependent upon complete
unity in sentiments, or interests, or syniiKi-
thios, or in all of them combined, then might
we fear the Jew, and, with some show of
reason, suspect his right to our councils.
Bnt are not these differences greatly misap-
prvhended, over-rated? "Descent:" »|ually
distinct, as races, are the Celt and Saxtm.
" Faith : ** equally adverse, if not more,
must he who holds the christian faith, and
the Atheist, who has no faith at all, be
"Frequency of intercourse:** on 'Change,
on the bench, on the rail, and in the mart is
the Jew the daily companion of the Gentile;
aad if their social intercounie be not parti-
cularly familiar, equally unaccustomed are
different grades of society to mingle their
hearths and homes. " Similarity of inte-
»
rests." Has the Gentile an "interest" in
tbe preservation of the state? Equally so
has the Jew, for its fall could avail him
nothing. He is prepared with no monarch
to fill the vacated throne; his polity is a
ruin; besides, according to "Aristides," bis
anticipated kingdom is elsewhere. Has the
Gentile an "interest " in a flourishing state of
commcrcp, healthy funds, nation:<l confi-
dence, and contentment? So has the Jew,
whoae monetary "interests" are of equal
magnitude, and equally at stake. Has the
one an "interest" in the life of mntual
obligatifins, and their due performance, in
the activities of right precepts, and oven in
the common kindness and courtesies which
go to make up the sum of happiness on
earth; and has not he, the victim of the
world's deridin;;s and uncharitableBess, an
equal desire for the reciprocation of justice
and mauly kindnesties? And what amazing
difference is there between the feelings and
habits of the two? Their interests iden-
tical, so, variously modified by constitutional
differences and circumstances, must their
impressioni*, motives, and habits, be also
identical. The difference between us, then,
is not so alarming, after all. It is insnfiS-
cient to justify a total subversion of moral
duty. Then, again, necessary as may be
iJeotititB in certain respects where a pur-
pose is contemplated, there are differences
which are found to be no drawbacks in the
attainment of the purpose, but are rather
held to have a wholesome influence. All
tho»e we have been considering, differences
of descent, antagonisms of faith and no
faith, varieties of individual temperament
and character, exist in our present parlia-
ments, and the people of Britain are rather
pleased than otherwise with the sundry na-
ture of the composition, and think there are
attendant advantages, while a portion of
them have so high an ojanion of this model
of amalgamated contrarieties, that they
would not alter it — nut they, though all the
virtues should entreat on behalf of a single
Jew.
We trust that, in thus expressing our-
selves, we are not actuated by tbe spirit
of mere partisanship, or any nnworthier mo-
tive than that which springs from convictioa
alone. >Yo have considered tho snlrject
again and again, but cannot discover a dis-
tinction commensurate with the exceptioii
contended for. Why, we have all but mads
the Jew one of ourselves; there needs but a
single clause to complete his charter of
naturalization; and we hold that this much
having been done, we have yielded the point
of " peculiarity," and our " political difiinw
ence" is peculiar in nothing but diminotivw*
ness. If we eir in making tbe last conoes-
tiion, we have greatly erred in our lurmer
liberality; but this view is not maintainahk^
because what we have done we have beem
compelled to do entirely by tbe force of no-
titude, against the domination of our warjr,
hard prejudices, and Gentile lianghtinesa.
And if we needed invitation to future dntj,
we have it clearly in the experience of the
post, that, so far as we have shared «ith him
the rights of citizenship, so far has the Jeir
been a worthy subject and servant of Qoftsi
Victoria. It will not do to shelve the re-
maining responsibility upon the plea of his
slight patriotism with respect to his adopted
country. 1 his we take to be perfectly gnk"
tuitous. Based on »uch grounds duty would
soon become indescribable confusimu Nay,
"Ari^tides;" the Jew himself, by senrioe
already rendered, by intere»ts co-extenuve
with your own, and by overtures ol' further
devotion, protests against your assumptioD,
and we dare not allow you the benefit of so
cobvenient an excuse.
OUOHT TUB JRW8 TO BE ADMIITED TO TARUAMEXT ?
141
In eoBclaaaafu we renuurk, that whetlier
or not there be troth in the popolar apbf>-
nm to which '* Arittides ** deferSf it is un-
dottbtedlj tme that stupidonsneM and un-
chadtaUe acciuatiuns on the one side have
■ todcDCj to indooe laxity of morals on the
•ther. (MI7 let a man know that you are
iiAfziblj Mispicioiu of his character and
doling and he will be tempted to hold
lightly the virtue you will not give him
crwlit for. If, then, tho " wisdom ** which
"Aristides** venerates has its warrant in
facts, we may well blofch that they have
been fost<'red by onr direct encourajjr^ment.
Let US be just, and deal the 6nal meed of
justice to the Jew. Albeit, finite appear-
aiices, a just course, will assuredly le«!d to a
right end. B. W. P.
NEGATIVE REPLY.
Tmi important qoestion having been
HBevhat fully discussed on both sides, it
bttMKs Dcocsaary to weigh the evidence
titfiiMd in order to arrive at a final and
traiUal conclasion on the subject.
Tke BCfpitire articles reepectirely pnb-
fiiM in the last three numbers of this
fOMdiMl have, to a rerj considerable ex-
tant, effiectnally answered the arguments
addaeed in the affirmative; there are, how.
fltr, several points remaining which require
little comment before the subject is
To these points we will now address
nnelvts; having done so, we shall leave the
Bttttcr in the hands of the public and our
nsdcn generally.
It it stated by B. W. P., in his Article
Ka l, that ** the christian oath which mem-
hen take no more makes them Christians
tint do their christian names."
It cannot fur a moment be supposed that
■y iBch abenrd idea was or is entertained
^ the legislature. The oath was never
usd or intended as a means of conversion
tsCbristianity, but as tke Ust 0/ Christianity
ifcw^ tn tntUnee, It may not be out of
fhct here to refer to the test given by the
ifHllai of old for the detection of the real
ifirit poawsesd by certain professed members
i tke christian chnrch. It will be found,
• lefarence to holy writ,* that the church
h aborted by the apostle John *' not to be-
Bm ewy tfsrit, bnt to try the spirits;** and
lb acaas given for arriving at their real
•■iitiHi is, ** Whether or not they would
fttfim that Jesns Christ is come in the
iak* It ia sabmitted that the test in
SiMtisn goes to the aame point; and in
*hr thai the l^iilatnre may remain chris-
tia.it is 111111117 <^ "Qc^ * ^«^ should
k NtaiiMd. It it nigocd that this test
• lJflhBiv.1,9,3.
is insufficient to keep out the infidel. Infi-
dels sliould undoubtedly be rejected as much
as Jews; but who, in the name of justice,
has received authority to set himself up a;*
a jud^e of the infidelity of certain members
of parliament? Who dart presume to
assert that« in a christian community, A. er
B., because they may have done certain
acts or used certain expressions iihich C. or
D. could not conscientiously do or say an
members of thn same community, are there-
fore necessarily infidels? Their admissi<in into
the house is not obtained without passing
through the required test and ordeal in some
shape. It is therefore submitted thdt the
oath having been subscribed and sworn to, or
(ieclaration made by such, the only legitimate
presumption is, that they are Christians, and
not infidels. It is not quite so easy Ur a
member of the christian community te be-
come an infidel, as some seem to imagine:
though many, in the wickedness of their
hearts, may desire to be and even boast that
they are such, they themselves find a barrier
which, in their consciences, they cannot
overcome. We should therefore pause l)eforf
we presumptu<iU8ly and boldly assert that
our senate-house is the receptacle of infidels.
In the admission of the Jew, as a Jew^ there
might be some ground fur such an assertion,
fur he not only openly and avowedly denies
that Jesus is the Son of God, but also shrinks
from the established test of the house.
It is also stated by B. W. P., that "Ju-
daism and Christianity are identical in all
that concerns the purposes of a govemrotnt,
that the rules which regulate the actioni of
them are the same in the Old Testament as
in the New, and that the purpose of govern-
ment is not the propagation of religion, but
the enftircement of relative duties."
In remarking upon these several points,
we will notice one started by W. G.^ in h\a
142
OUOUT THE JEWS TO BE ADMITTED TO PAKUAMEHT?
Article No. III., " That all arguments gathered
from ecclesiastical connexions are worth
nothing; that Caesar and Csesar's goTcm-
ment have to do with man socially."
The remarks made by W. G. of our igno-
rance or wilful unmindfulness of the true
principles of civil politj and government, we
will cheerfully forgive, but would simply
refer to a few facts which appear to have
altogether escaped his observation. It must
be admitted by all reflecting men that the
era of this and every other christian nation
(so long as she remains christian) must
necessaiily be dated from the establishment
and adoption of Christianity alone. To re-
vert back to Ciesar and Caesar's government
would be at once to destroy the christian
contract, and return, in a national point of
view, to pagan'ism and infidelity. It must
also be borne in mind, that the nation, in
accepting Christianity, freely, voluntarily,
and of necessiti/j gave up all rights which
they possessed simply as men, or as a heathen
nation, which were antagonistic to and could
not be confinncd by Christianity, and in return
i-cccived the boon of the gospel and discipline
of Christ ; it therefore appears to us perfectly
idle to talk of rights of manhood amongst
Christians irrespective of Christianity.
A short research of the scriptures will
suffice to show tlie manifest difference be-
tween the rules for the regulation of man
under the Old Testament and those under
the New. We will only refer to one or two
points, and leave the public to draw their
own conclusion. For instance, under the
Old Testament, the rule was and still is,
*' An eve for an eve, and a tooth for a tooth."
A man who accidentally killed another might
be slain by the deceased's relative (the
avenger of blood), if overtaken by him before
he reached a city of refuge. To say nothing
of the restoration of beast for beast, the
Jewish limitation of a sabbath day's journey,
restrictions as to diet, and numerous others.
Uow widely different are these from our rules,
and how truly oppressive would such seem
to us.
It is true that the purpose of government
is not the propagation of religion, but the
enforcement of relative duties. The law of
Christianity may not, however, be lost sight
of; indeed, our relative duties can bo ascer-
tained only by reference to it. The reli-
>sioo and constitution of the country must
alone decide what are our relative duties,
and in what way they are to be enforced.
With reference to B. W. P.'s closing re-
mark, that the question is finally settled,
simply because London and Greenwich have
returned Jews, we think he might with
equal justice argue that the crucifixion of
our Lord was a righteous act simply because
the whole Jewish nation consented thereto.
We cannot help feeling that the remarks
made by " Adclphos," iu Affirmative Article
No. II., and the motives ascribed by him to
the lordi^ spiritual and temporal, in throwing
out the Jew Bill, from time to time, go too
far. In the absence of the strongest pos-
sible evidence to the contrary, we are
bound to believe they are actuated alone by
principles and motives purely c<»i8cientions,
from a desire to do their duty, and act con-
sistently with the constitution of the coun-
try. However justified men may feel in
these days in speaking and writing against
this portion of our constitution, it cannot be
denied that wo are materially indebted to
their superior wisdom; that their wisdom and
discretion alone have saved this country,
from time to time, from much misery and
injury which would have resulted from the
demands of an excited populace, bad they
not received the wholesome check which audi
a house can alone supply.
** Adelphos," like the rest of the Jews!
advocates, appears to overlook the wide
difference between a judicial and ministerial
office; enough, however, has already beea
said on this head in the former aoticles.
Although, as stated by W. G. in Affirma-
tive Article No. III., many Episcopalians may,
and doubtless do, desire the separation of the
church from the state, still it is submitted
no conscientious Christian can wish, or can
indeed contemplate, such a change, in order
that the state should be (as it would seem
the Jews' friends wish and others desire)
sacrificed to the government of Cojsar, or, in
other words, driven back to paganism and
infidelity. Since, however, such a desire has
80 manifested itself am<»igst the Jews* advo-
cates, and the anti-church-and-state por-
tion of the community generally, it is sob-
mitted it would indeed be a direful event to
remove from us at the present critical mo-
ment almost the only prop left to support the
constitution upon its true foundation, and
the government of the nation upon the princi-
,■.-> f,
I'l ( .11 1" niv: ,r,:A< lo i:\. \i. \i i : i i :> id .• \i-i i «. ^• ; \ i '/ I i:\
Ciirl'tia:.ily. S;icb a ruvcr.'-iuu wijiiM this pniiK.'sitii'ii has Lifii olkivd tliniugliout
iD-i'-ei place the Jetr in a position above va^,
und potfj-iblj givo to Itotbschild and Salo-
tbc di.scussion.
With reference to "W. G.'s condnrlinir ro-
:xm a poxrer at prcMnt nnknoTv-n to this marks, we would submit that no length of
natjoo, and make them like Josephs or Mur- residence can in the least btrcngthen the
ikcais,forwv should bvthnt act dissolve tmr ri^ht cf the Jew to i'lterfero with, or take
chn^n contract in a national point of vicv.-. part in, the lo;;isLtio]i of tliis or any other
It sTich a pit&itlon of things it is easy to christian conntry amoiiist whom ho may be
c''3c«Te 1k»w the democrat if interests of our «\ist, so long as lie ran- una in inthcUef. Nor
ft;=atrT would be interfr»rcd with. The d.> we think this conntrv has anvthinir to
crant to the if aynooth C'ollcjrc has interfered ft'ar from his rejection, so Ion;: as she remains
Ti:h the rights and privileges of this Pro- christian and he a Jew. If, however, the
•.??tant ration. If the Romanists have sufli- saorcd bond he snapped asunder, and we, in
■vat power to obtain such a grant, why may a civil point of view, be driven back to Ciesar's
"":* the J<>w obtain infringements upon our government, th«Tc might perhaps be some
nThls and liberties in this and many other ground for W. G.'s foar^ .and apprehensions.
*sTb? It was not neces^aiy that the Jews Ilavin*^ i^one through, with some little
sbcgJd be a large and powerful nation in can', the whole of the ])oiuts rsiiscd upon this
"riff tiat the necks of the Egyptbns should itnportant subject, wc arc constrained to
kebeat to t!je rale of the Jew Joseph, nor is conclude that, for the rejisons stated on the
itDeensary now in onlcr tliat the like event negative side tlirnughnut this discussion, it
sboold take place here. is not only both monilly and politically wrong
If the Jew acts consii.stentlywith his faith to admit the Jew, <r-« o Jeir, into our senate-
(lod his friends call him a consistent cha- house, but that such a stop would he both
nrter), he has no hope in this or any other highly inc^nMstent with, and d.angerous to,
wratnr hut his own, and is If^oking forward the constitution and religious ]>osition of the
totb« coming of the Messiah to set up his nation; thnt the Jew himself (so long as he
kiajjdnm, and re-establish him at Jenisalem ; remains in unl>eli«4') is unfit for such an
be is therefnre, for this reason, also an unfit olHce, and could not do justice therein, either
I«»n to take part in the legislation of this townrds us or himself. It therefore npjiears
er JHT other christian count rv, for w.ant of to us that he ought not to be .admitted into
ue necessarr sympathy with, and attach- r.arliamcnt until, at least, he has followed the
^KsJ to. the countrj', as wi.sely arguM by exami-le of ** his friend at court" Disraeli,
"Aristides," in X«*gative Article No. HI. viz., embraced our faith, and tendered himself
We cannot see how the rights of the ]X!o- to the? bar of the house as a <;^hristian.
(Ictre interfered with (as W. G. would have We alfo conclude, in order that the nation
V befiere) by the refusal to admit the Jew should maintain her exaltwl position in
'ato pariiament, notwithstanding his clec- the social scale, and the fret.; exercise of all
'Ml We trust enough has been said to , her precious (but, of course, circumscribed)
pnve that we hare no rights antagonistic to, rights and liberties, it is essential that she
'•f nmsistent with, Christianity; besides, as . should adhere closely to her religion and con-
^ have before stated in our Articles Xos. stituiion, and most strenuously resist all
l-icd II., the call of the people, as laid down attempts at innovatic.n and infringements
^7 Bhckstone, is to elect one from amcmgiti \ thereon, from whatever source they may
'JmiefcM, which, in a christian community, come. With these fjw remarks we close
QOQt mean a Jew. No answer whatever to our subject. Veritas.
Apiod reader is nearly as rare as a good writer. People bring their prejudices, whether
^^nAYf or adverse. They arc lamp and spectacles lighting and magnifying the page,
hit not enough for a reader to be unprejudiced. He must remember that a book is to
^"^ studied as a ]»ctare is hnng. Not only must a bad light be avoided, but a good one
'^Unwd. This taste supplies. It puts a history, a tale or a poem, in a just point of
ntw, and there examines the executien. — Wilmoit.
144
WOUIJ) COMMUNISM PKOMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAN ?
lorial f rnnnnit[.
WOULD COilMUNISM PKOMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAN ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
L. I., the writer on the affirmative of this
quet^tion in the Febraarj number, proposes
the query, '* ]f the theory of Communism be
so defective, how was it that the apostles
were Communists, and exemplified their
sentiments bj forming the first christian
church into a community?" We reply,
that the primitive Christians adopted that
manner of life, not frum choice, but from
prudential considerations, enforced by the
times; they adopted it for the purpose of
strengthening the bond of union, for reailiness
of conference on spiritual subjects, and for
their mutual support under the pen»ecutions
to which they were subjected — persecutions
which eventuated in the disperbion through-
out Judea of that godly little brotherhood.
Let it be distinctly recollected that that mode
of life was not adopted till they were en-
dangered by hostilities, and that, if we except
two very small sections of the christian
church — the Moravians and the Shakers —
it has not since been revived.
The same writer founds his defence of
Communism on the superior success of mis-
sionary enterprise under the conduct of the
Moravians. That success is indisputable,
but it is clearly owing to the influence of
numbers, not to the espou:ial of Communism.
We look on Communism as a protest
against the abuses of our social state, but
not as a remedy for them — a protest which,
in the ardency of youth, is subscribed to by
every lover of his species: experience, how-
ever, brings with it a perception of the ex-
pediency, if not of the absolute rightness, of
every institution, and usually checks the
disposition to innovate on established in
favour of ideal forms. Some men, neverthe-
less, retain the predilections of youth long
beyond the period of juvenility, and, from a
tuperabandance of philanthropy, urge the
atceptance of Communism as tlie least com-
plex and the readiest cure. Though we
dissent from the opinions entertained by such
persons relative to the practicability of Com-
wanism, we esteem them for the expression
of sympathy with that greatest of principles
— univei'Skal brotherhood — which their theocj
unplies.
The gist of the Communist system <^imsiffts
in the following particulars. The govern*
ment is invested with all property ; it is the
recognised holder and aihninistrator of aU
wealth ; the members labour in conmion, and
in return the produce of all labour is given
to each according to his wants. Fourierism,
Oweuism, all the various forms of the idea,
recognise this community of interest, laboar,
and enjoyment. The differences which entitle
these systems to be considered as distinct aie
of minor importance in the present debate.
Society is a refiex of the inner man; in*
sensibly, but invariably, men modify society
into exact correspondence with their own
nature; gradually, as their faculties b^Mrmt
developed, institutions of an obstructire
nature yield to others of a nwre liberal cha-
racter. The changes in our institutions since
chivalric times have been commensurate m
extent to the period which bos intervened:
then the individual will of the banm utae
law to his vassals, but now feudality is okeo-
lete. Society in its present organization is
the result of this principle; yet, amid all
changes, the institution of private pn^per^
remains inviolate, and hence we conclude tlMMk
it is agreeable to man's nature. Property
represents the exertion of the individual, in
furtherance of his material interests, in the
same way as talent represents the labour
undergone in the culture of the intellecL We
look upon it as the outward manifestation of
the individuahty in man. Its acquisition
not only stimulates to labour, but, when
realized, is an amelioration of that labour.
We object to the proposed equality in the
distribution of the produce; that equality is
repulsive to our intuitive sense of jostles^
inasmuch as it supposes no discriminattoi
of the ingenuity evinced in the diffncBl
orders of labour, and supposes no reoognitka
of individual merit. This, unless the t jraaof
of declarations of capacity be acted npoOi
WOULD COMMUmSM PROSIOTE TIIB Hi^PPINESS OF MAR ?
145
diifctlj leads to the nniveraal adoption of
liuX foit of Ubour which requires tlis lesst
fxertioo snd tb« smallest amoant of »kill;
for peculiar laboars are sorer andertuken
tjxr^ in the hope of puning peculiar rewards.
EquUtj would tlinSf it b obvkms, operate so
as e&ctnallj to repress those generous iin-
pdm of soolf the acliiereinents of which
enpefnate for the evils resulting from com-
pilitin, and confer a lustre on our social
4ite to which it is impassible anj other than
s conpetitiTe state oan pretend.
We object to the overwhelming power
voted in the goremment. Philosophers are
9fX^ that the lore of power ii a passion
fMwwnt in the hiraiao soul ; proof of this
is s&fded in everj phase of life, from the
pettj ttttorj oveneer to the nkase-prumul-
gsd^ antocrat. Now, from the almost
Wodleai power centred in the rosgistmcy,
fiest tempi at ions are presented to the as-
wnption of despotic rule ; it fdlows as a
■ttwsl sequence that the magistracy would
dcsue. lor their own advantage, to perpe-
taHi thait power. Communism is a system
vUdi repnses soch unlimited confidence in
iidmdiial integrity, that every facility is at
the wnmand of any one daring enough to
wtne saeh an enterprise. As de^iigning
■a viU exist in a Commnnistic as well as
■ the puMMt state, it cannot be supposed
Uat Commnmsm will enjny an immunity
fan irnqxiooa of this nature, when society,
OHttitatcid as it is, and teel<ius as it is of
■eh sttempts, is still ih» subject of them.
Haw enoneons is the supposition that, in
tb eanmrnnit J, crime would have no exis-
feMil We would not quarrel with Corn-
on this point, if they could as easily
exclude it from human nature; but, as that
transcends mortal agency, it would not have
been imprudent to introduce some provisions
for its repression and puui^hment. Some do,
indeed, propose to expel persons convicted of
crime, should any such be found; but we
should say there must be something defective
in that state of society which would abandon,
instead of generously endeavouring to reform,
the misguided. Communism is fitted only
for a state in which man has so effectually
subdued himself, that restraints are rendered
all but unnecessarv.
But when, we may ask, is Communism to
be adopted? Evidently the time has not yet
arrived, for, on the failure of their experi-
ments, the Communists urge in extenuation,
that those with whom these experiments were
'. made had previously had their natures pcr-
j verted in our competitive state. Shall we,
then, delay its realization till men have been
elevated by education, and till the religions
sentiment has taken vigorous possession of
the soul? Need wc sav, that when that
happy time shall have arrived, Communism
will have ceased to be desirable, for our own
social state will have been pruned of its
abuses? The anarchy of interests pervading
society is attributable to an insufficient
evangelization of the }v)pulnr heart and
mind. Correct, exalt, sanctify these, and
simnltaneously society will be regenerated.
Variety is essential to ha])piness, but Com-
munism presents the uninviting prospect of
one continued round of sameness.
This second series of objections is, we
think, sufficiently cogent to warrant us in
withholding our suffirage from Communism.
J.N.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.-TV.
Db. Jonmon remarks, '* He that has no
«e to love or to confide in, has little to hope.
fitvuts the radical principle of happiness."
ittsding to this statement, which we
kkievc to ba oonrct, *' the radical |»rinciplo "
<f an s happineia depends, in a secondary
^mt, npoo at least one object worthy of
■■s love, and in whom he can confide
^ afety. If so, this principle and its
N%i sAets will incrwse in propor-
IM is tha mnbcr aad dignity of those
which dkit, «r nther wluch create,
Hence, to every honest and intelligent
mind, but to such only, the term Com-
munism involves the idea of a desirable
state of things; for the noblest specimen of
human greatness is a well-informed, God-
fearing philanthropist. And what sight on
earth can enhance the happiness of such a
man*8 mind — comparable to that of bnvthren
— Jew and Gentile, Greek and barbarian,
Protestant and Catholic, Churchman and
Dissenter, rich and poor, master and servant —
dwelling together in unity ? None: for Kucb
a scene would necestarily imply a c«&%v\\«i
146
WOULD COMMUNISM PROMOTE THR ITAPPDIESS OF MAN ?
of wholesale wickedness, and a total reno-
vation of human nature and usages.
Communism, on a universal as well as
limited scale, is not only desirable, but easily
conceivable. By making an exertion of our
imaginary powers, we can readily transfer
ourselves into a state of society the members
of which have all things common. Such a
state of society docs not necessarily imply
an equalization of mind, wealth, wants,
labour, and remuneration : but a willingness
•n the part of each of its members to con-
tribnte what he reasonably can for the benefit
of the whole; and on the part of the whole
to do all that is essential for the protection
and support of every one of its constituent
members. Were this the case, there would
be, as Plato obser^'cs, no necessity for the
words "mine and not thine;" for "there
would be no contentions, nor lawsuits one
with another, because none would have any
thing proper to himself, except his own
person: everything else would be common
to all." A reciprocity of this kind would
prove the bond of union — the safety valve —
and the very life blood of Communism.
Thus it is in the human body ; here every
member serves the whole, and the whole
nourishes and serves each member, as and
when necessary. There is a vast diiferenco
between the use and mechanism of the hand
and those of the ear, but neither has a right
■to say to the other, "I have no need of
thee;'' nor has the whole any right to say to
a part, *' I can dispense with thee;" for
the well-being of the whole is equally de-
pendent upon each of its parts, and each
part is dependent upon the whole. Without
the hand human nature could not procure a
subsistence; and without the organ of hear-
ing, it would be the subject of endless incon-
veniences and jeopardies.
Here, then, we have what may be termed
a perfect model of a Communistic state of
society, a model in which Communism is
epitomized. Without infringing the laws of
analogical deductions, we may affirm that as
it is in and among the members of the body,
individually and aggregately, so we conceive
it may be in the politic body. Though we
called the human body in its healthful and
perfect state a perfect model of Communism,
we did not thereby wish it to be understood
that the body itself was perfect. We look
ajmi it as deficient in point of perfection,
not in mechanism but in physical education.
But taking it as it is when in working order,
wo perceive in it the annexed features
or facts which set forth the coostitnent
elements of Communism: — 1. A perfect
whole — having nothing deficient, nothing
redundant. 2. This whole is made np of a
countless number of ingredients, put*,
members, &c. 3. A power of renewing
itself and maintaining its identity and ag-
gregateness, notwithstanding the varions
omissions and losses to which it is constantly
subject. 4. Precedency, dissunilarity, di-
versity, unison, sympathy, occasional refrac-
toriness, ScQ.y among its members. 5. Mutual
and self-defence. 6. Everything essential
to the health and well-being of the whole
body. Now, by making a transfer of these
and kindred principles to society at large,
we have, hypothetically, the real Commu-
nistic state.
Again, Communism is not only desiraUe
and conceivable, but attainable, that is, if
we l&ive time present out of the question.
But for sin, such an elysian state of thingn
would undoubtedly have prevailed in our
world throughout all ages; and though at
tliis tune unavoidably absent, it will ulti-
mately bo introduced successfully. Tbt
bitter waters of Marah are being swettened
by the cross of Christ. Christiaoitj, the
only patent Communistic leaven, b already
in the meal — and ere long the whole lump
of human nature will b«^ leavened. This
little stone of Daniel, which levels all befim
it, is now on the move. The germ of tha
better state of things made its appearame
at the day of pentecost, and that appear-
ance may be regarded as an earnest of what
is in reversion for the future dispensation of
man. And though at present we see but
little of the Commimistic principle, it is still
in being, yet alive, and in the meal; and
will, by-and-by, burst forth and shed its
peace-giving influences among the nAtioos.
Lycurgus attempted to establish a system
of fraternity in the Spartan republic, as
appears from the following passage from hia
life, by Plutarch: — "Lycurgus penraaded
the Spartans to make a new distributioii ef
their lands equally among thcmselTes ; tft
live thenceforth as brethren together, so thifc
none should seek to go before each other,
save in virtue only: tliinking there slioiiU
be no difference or inequality among tht
MENTAL SCIENCE.
147
inhafaitaiiU of one citj, bat the reproaches
of difihooestj and praise of rirtue." Manj
Fmch philosophers «od others have made
aCRSBflos and pradseworthj efforts to found
X GMammstic state, in which there shonld
be m iadividoal or separate rights in pro-
perty, aad so forth : but hitherto all attempts
ksft prored abortiTc. And here is the main
nHOBf every proposed system has lacked a
nSdent quantity of the principal ingredient
"fdigumy the sool ni the desired system. |
MoceOTer, the moral condition of man is not ,
flfidcntly pure and elevated as to admit of |
tb BQtt dignified system of Comnmnism.
The leKgion of the Bible, as couched in
Umk erer-memm^ble words — ^ Thou
Shalt kpre the Lord thy God with all thy
heart, and thy neighbour as thyself," is to
Coaunmnsm what life is to the body, or
v^ God is to the world. In a preceding ;
tftide on this question, the Moravians have |
lacB alluded to as having approximated
Karer to a state of Communism than any
•^ body of men. Tlie fact is, they have
t eoBsidcrable share of this essential element
ABQBg them. With them charity has its
pofect work. Their happiness and progress
ut not to be attribnUrd to Communism — but
Anr Communism is to be attributed to
their leHgion. Have courage to give tribute
id vhom tribnte is due. Hitherto our re-
itttks have assumed an affirmative phase,
Wtt they must now take a negative one as
^iptdi the question at issue, for we verily
^timt that Coominnism is at present im-
inrtiesMe. It is a subject of time; and as
•^ is a time for everything, we shall
cdoibtedly have it in its time. We must
till and sow before wc can expect to reap.
By this we do not wish to either create or
strengthen a religious and civil apathy, but
to provoke our fellow*men to love and good
works, by holding ont to them the hope uf a
brighter, better, happier day.
To say that Communism is attainable and
practicable in the present degenerate state
of society, is tantamount to saying that an
effect must exist prior to its cause, or even
produce its cause, which in either cose is
absurd. For, in our humble opinion, Com-
munism will be the effect ratlier tban the
cause of man's happiness, or at least it will
be contemporary with it. At the same time
it would seem that Communism will accele-
rate, augment, and help to perpetuate the
happiness of men when once adoptinl by thorn.
But the means which will produce Com-
munism will, at the same time, produce human
happiness — and Communism will be but one
of many effects resulting from those means.
The very thing thai prevents the adoption
of Communistic principles is the same with
that which would wither their happy influ-
ences were they adopted in the present state
of society. And this is the superabundance
of «heer wickedness which infects our aggre-
gate nature. And till this be extirpated
and succeeded by something purely rational
and divine, " there will always be a part, and
always a very large part, of every community,
that have uo care but for themselves, and
wh(Mra care for themselves reaches little
farther than impatience of immediate pain,
and eagerness for the nearest good.'' — Dr,
Johnsons Taxation no Tyranny^ p. 9.
I. F.
MENTAL SCIENCE.
V| wish in this 'paper to recommend the study of Mental Science to all who are
*>pfi^ hi thfS adncatioii of the yoimg, or who purpose to take part in this work. Perhaps
i^iriBaai be too strong an assertion if we say, that multifarious as are the sciences with
*U an edveator of yoath shonld be intimately acquainted, there b none that more
^pmiffly dsmands a perMvering and careful study than this; and that other branches
if lasaWgc AonM bo ooosidered as subordinate and auxiliary, commanded and directed
148 MKNTAL SCnUfCK.
bj this as oentnl and pannaount, as we see ridges of inferier eleration ruimiiig panlM to
a vast mountain ehain.
The importance which we think proper to attach to the stndj of Mental Science stands,
we are aware, in almost startling contrast with its all bat nniveraal neglect. While othei
subjects are punned with a meet praiseworthy yigoor and persererance^ this ia neaii}
nnthonght of, or, if thought of, deferred to some less active season. The claims of Qrammai
and Arithmetic, Geography and History, Euclid and Algebra, are so loud, that scarcely
another voice can be beard : and so the student goes forth, and the teacher goes on, te
prosecute his work in the dark, striking at random, often doing mischief he cannot amid.
and at the be:it gaining experience at the expense of his pupils.
The time will come, perhaps, when Mental Philosophy, as affording a knowledge of tin
material on which education has to operate, will be looked upon as an important pari d
the teacher's preparatoiy studies,* but we urge its importance now, as indirectly aad
powerfully tendipg to success even in this point of view, but especially as altogethsi
essential in the far more serious work of carrying on the education of a number of childxen
What would be said of a physician or surgeon who, with a good knowledge of ailMi
sciences indispensable to him, should have neglected to acquaint himself with the prineipla
of physiology and anatomy? We should hesitate before we trusted life or limb to one wbc
had so unaccountably omitted the chief part of his professional education. We should witl
reason expect him to know, not something only, bat a good deal, of the machine whM
disarrangement it is his business to remove or prevent And shall it be thought a li^
thing, then, for one who is intended to educate the mind — to manage a machine a thoueaik
times more intricate and difficult of control-^to go forth to his task in blank ignorance of it)
nature and constitution?
Independently of the consideration of practical utility, there is, in the prosecution of anj
science, a pleasure, which forms the student's principal incentive and reward. Curiosity;
** the thirst of the soul,*' is gratified and intensely delighted at the discovery of new trnthsi
at the starting up of new relations nnpereeived before: and is set on tip-toe with eagtf
excitement as it contemplates the long series of unexpected deductions stretching oat beftrt
its view. Hence it is that Euclid is so fascinating a study, — diy indeed at first, w^
repulsive, but unfolding as the student advances a thousand charms which we could nerer
have believed would evolve themselves from those few simple intuitive truths on which it
rests. What a noble stream of thonght flows from that meagre fountain ! The student b
constantly surprised with startling deductions; arguments and discoveries of new relatiooi
follow one another at times like peals of thunder, and one is hurried on impetuously to tkt
result. For this reason Euclid is always a new book, — one of the few new books in tht
world; you constantly turn with pleasore to him, though for the thousandth time; tki
delight you receive from him is a rich reward for any labour you may have taken in yotf
first studies. •
(So it is with the pliyncal sciences. Without thinking at all of any purpos* tlia tiMi
may serre to the seaman, we behold with solemn gratification the beets which are ''til
poetry of heaven." Their distanees, their magnitudes, their motions; these very wedh
when uttered with respect to the heavenly bodies, instantly fill the mind and aet imagiM
ihm €»tlie strstch to span thdr meaning. So the other departments of natural atieBM^ •
149
tkiMvUeh idtte to th» straetnra of the earth, the mtare of pteDti, or the habiu aad
CMtitBtni of aHBab — all form a neTcr-faUing source of pare delight. That man hm
mnkh thukfij figr, than if the wealth of Cntras vera hia own, wfaoae miod ean
^ank m plonnca like these; who eaa ait down, in however hnmhle an abode, and can
"■■■ iDHwbdge to spread before him an intetteetnal feast, with whicii the intenaeat of
Mni Mghta deaenre no cooapariseo.
j^« caBDot plsina'ti of as pare a kind and of equal intenaity be derived from the study
^ ^leBtil SdcBoe? The world around us is rich in various objects of loftj and refined
'"^wiffatiwi; is there not n world within teeming with greater wonders? Turn your
^bli vitbn; jeu will find marvellons phenomena there. Think of Memory, Imaglna-
ttB.tke Peev with which you oontrol yonr thoughts, dismissing them and recalling them
<i Fiemn. Think of that mysterious fuulty of Abstraetion which the mind poaseasea;
■^ Kk if it is really to this power, visibly working early in childhood, that all the
''atioBs «f Sfe owe their origin? Make yonr mind the snljeet of a little study;—
*v«tli«8aafind it a palace of enohantment; a universe of wooden, an entire marveL
^ jvi rit down to Uiis sort of study; when you introvert yonr thoughts, and ooosider
^ttvitciiss ni your own spirit, you will see what Young meant when he said
** I tremble at myself
ilnd in myself am lost**
^^^f^^, by carefully and habitually observing the phenomena of your mind, you may
'^^e ifitemtifig iofonnation from the most trivial occurrences that affect it; even castle-
o^iig amy cootribute its fraction of benefit, and the mad phantasies of the night may
"DuU sleep instructs, nor sport Tain dreams in Tain."
Uiiio intemttng occupation of the mind, while engaged in the study of the natural
'^^^^^c*5. to mark the evidence uf design exhibited each step we take. We find the con-
'^^uo of animals adapted peculiarly to their mode of living; and when this construction
* Bot thus adapted, it is curious to observe, in numerous instances, how the defect is
■"^sed. Now the evidences of skilfal contrivance are no less manifest in the mind than
^^ external creation. We say the Judgment compares two ideas, t.e., sees whether they
f^ alike er unlike, and whether they belong or do not belong one to another. The
**fB«t ecmH not do this if Memory were not to recall these ideas for the purpose.
*^V7 not only does this, but when conclusions have been arrived at by the Judgment, she
*eschsige ef these also; and is able to present them to the Keason, who compares these
'^*^ oQDclqsBma and deduces another from them. But simply recalling idess, or the
^"'^'wb arrived at by the compariaona of the Judgment, is not enough; they must be
^^ Wf«e the mind for a time that the Judgment or the Season may have a due oppor-
^ «f OQsaidcring them. The^wwer of so keeping the^e ideas fixed before the mind is
^ markable one called Attention. The power of Attention is the greatest faculty of
^ Wfeaa mind, and the pessesuon of it in dffierent degrees by diffinrent individuals is the
^^^*M of the immense superiority of anme minds over others. A prompt, retentive
'****7t a dear judgment; strong reason, are to a grent extent attributes of a vigorous
^^^"^^ To attend is the most diflSeult operation of the mind, and it may be donbtfol
150 OH aBLF-DXBGXPLniE.
irhether it be not impossible withoat the signs supplied hj langusge. It is a carious fact,
too, that Cariosity shoold bare snob a tendency to qnicken attentioii; and it is pndselj in
these circnmstances that Cariosity is most slire. And it is obsenrable also that this Cariosity
is generally in proportion to our ignorance. The cariosity of a child in his first or seooind
year is constantly on the alert; — a rude piece of wood, or a pebble, he tonis over and over,
receiring an accession of ideas at erery turn;— hence probably a child in his eariier year^
makes greater advances in knowledge than he will ever make in any equal period of time
afterwards.
As it is our purpose merely to direct attention to this branch of human knowledge, wc
will pursue the subject at present no further; but condude with one or two observations
In regard to the study of this science, which, let it be remarked, may be pursued like the
other sciences in accordance with the rules of sound induction — there will not only be felt
the pleasure to which we have referred, but great profit will be derived in two ways : —
First to the teaq|ier, considered as being himself a learner. No teacher will succeed in bis
profession who is not a persevering student; and surely an acquaintance with the prinaples
of Mental Philosophy, joined to a careful observation of the workings of his own mind, cannot
but elicit usefu*l practical rules for his guidance as a student. For instance, what we have
just said about Attention, may lead him to consider whether In his studies it may not
sometimes happen that the greater haste is the worst speed; and that Sat citOf tt 9at ben^
may be as apt a motto in study as on the panel of the Quakers carriage. Secondly, it
will prove of great benefit to the teacher in conducting the education of his children. WV
shall not dwell on this point, but take it for "granted that a man should have somv
knowledge of that which has to be the subject of bis daily and hourly training. " Educa-
tion," says Dugald Steward, " would be more systematic and enlightened, if the povrex >
and faculties on which it operates were more scientifically examined and better understood/'
^~Paper»for the Schoohuuter,
ON SELF-DISCIPLINE.
There is always some danger of Self-discipline leading to Self-confidence: and the mon
so when the motives for it are of a poor and woridly character, or the results of it 0Qtwar«
only, and superficial. But surely when a man has got the better of any bad habit or evi
disposition, his sensations should not be those of exultation only; ought they not rather Xi
be akin to the shuddering faintness with which he woald survey a chasm that he had hees
guided to avoid, or with which he would recal to mind a dubious deadly struggle which ha<
termioated in his favour? The sense of danger is never, perhaps, so fully apprehended, a
when the danger has been overcome.
Self-discipline is grounded on Self-knowledge. A man may be led to resolre on som
general coarse of Self-discipline by a faint glimpse of his moral degradation : let him not h
contented with that small insight His flirst step in Self-diBcipline shonld be to ha>
something like an adequate idea of the disorder. The deeper he goes in this matter tli
better; he must try to probe his own nature thoroughly. Men often make use of wbi
Self •knowledge they possess to frame for themselves skilful flattery, or to amose thei&selT<
ON SELF- DISCIPLINE. 151
in fancTiog what each penoiw as tbej are would do under imaginary circumstances. For
flatteries and for fiudes of this kind not much depth of Self-knowledge is required: but
ht vho wants to understand his own nature for the purposes of Self-discipline, must strive
to kam the whole truth about himself, and not to shrink from telling it to his own soul : —
'' To thine own self be true ;
And it most follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then he (Use to any roan."
Thi okl onirtier, Polonius, meant this for worldly wisdom ; but it may be construed much
Dore deeply.
Imagine the soul, then, thoroughly awake to its state of danger, and the whole energies
tf the man devoted to self-improvement. At this point there often arises a habit of Intro-
$peedan which is too limited in its nature; we scrutinize each action as if it were a thing
by itidf— independent and self-originating ; and so our scrutiny docs less good, perhaps,
tbao m^t be expected from the pain it gives and the resolution it requires. Any truthful
asamation into our actions must be good : but we ought not to be satisfied with it until
it becoma both searching and progressive. Its aim should be not only to investigate
iwtmces, bat to discover principles.
hfiidte toil would not enable you to sweep away a mist ; but, by ascending a little, you
Bif cften look over it altogether. So it is with our moral improvement : we wrestle
fiarcdy with a vicious habit, which would have no hold upon us if we ascended into a higher
Bsnl atmosphen'.
As I have heard suggested, it is by adding to our good purposes, and nourishing the
s&ctions which are rightly placed, that we shall best be able to combat the bad ones. By
i^spdog such a course you will not have yielded to your enemy, but will have gone, in all
bmility, to fonn new alliances; you will then resist an evil habit with the strength which
jnbave gained in carrying out a good one. You will find, too, that when you set your
keut upon the things that are worthy of it, the small selfish ends, which used to bo so
^ tf> it, will appear almost disgusting ; you will wonder that they could have had such
Ud upon you.
hi the same way, if you extend and deepen your sympathies, the prejudices which have
litibaio dung obstinately to you will fall away : your fonner uncharitableness will seem
dnfaitdy distasteful; you will have brought home to it feelings and opinions with which
itcflmot live.
Mm, a creature of twofold nature, body and soul, should havo both parts of that nature
f^giged in aoj matter in which he is concerned: spirit and form must both enter into
it It is idol- worship to substitute the form for the spirit; but it is a vain philosophy
vUeh seeks to dispense with form. All this applies to Self-discipline.
See how most persons love to connect some outward circumstance with their good resoln-
tSoH; ihtj resolve on conunendng the new year with a surrender of this bad babit; they
^ alter their eooduct as soon as they are at such a place. The mind thus shows its
Ulkmtm: hat we must not conclude that the support it naturally seeks is useless. At
ikimtm tinw thai we are to turn our chief attention to the attainment of right principles,
mUtj n^glflct any assistance which may strengtheu us in contending against
tss
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVRMEKT SOCIKTIES.
bad kabiU: far is it from the spirit of trae humility to look dowu opoo ^udi assistance.
Who would not be glad to bare the ring of eastern storr, which should remind the wearer
bj its clian;;o of cr>loar of his want of shame? Still these auxiliaries partake of a
mechnnical nature : we must not expect more from them than tbej can gire : they voij
ftcn'e as aids to inomoiy; thej maj form landmarks, as it were, of our progress; but thcj
cannot, of them^>f Ives, maintain that progress.
It is in a similar spirit that we should treat what muy be called prudential considerations.
We may listen to the suggestions of prudence, and find them an aid to self-discipline; bnt
we sliould never rest upon them. While we do not fuil to make the due use of them, we
must never forget that they do not go to the root of the mutter. Prud«'nce may enable a
man to conquer the world, but not to rule his own heart : it may change one enl passion
for another, but it is not a thing of potency enough to make a man change his nature.—
Etgays WritUin in the Intertul* o/Busiueis.
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
Birmingham DefHiting Sorirty.—An interest-
ing public meetiiiK ol' the ineiiibt rs anil friends ol
this society wan held on Friday evening. Fehrunry
SUUi, at the PhiloHophical Institution, Canuou-
streeL Mr. Willinnis presided, and the attendance
of ladies and gentlemen was numerous and highly
respectable. The siitiject ff>r discusMton wa-i,
** Whether it is probable that the other European
States will sufTer from Russian Ag^rre!>>i<>n." iJr.
He»lop opened in the atfirmative. contending that
the past history of Russia, her aggn ssive policy,
not only at mnole but recent periods, her present
desire for a«lditional territory ; the immensity ol
her empire ; amount of population ; strcnmli and
eondiiiun of her army and navy ; the advances
she had male in manufactures of every kind, and
otlier remaikable features connected with that
important cuunlrv, warranted the belief that at
no distant i»erio4i Uie states of Europe would
•uflTer by agirrensions from her of a mostt seriouM
ehararter. The army of Russia numbered up-
wards of 7l>0,(HX) ; her naval force consisted of
about forty-Hve ships of the line and Uiiity fri-
gates ; her p«ipuIation was increasiuv much faster
than that of France ; her manufaiturt s were ra-
pidly extending ; and on Uie whule she ocru})iefI
in every respect a most important position in
Europe. — .1. T. Chance, Esq., replied to the re-
marks of Dr Heslop, and expressed hi" opinion
that ihr-re need be no apprehension of future
aggression on the part of Rusnia. In the first
place, the territory which she had taken was not
so large as was imagine<l, it seemed but a speck
upon the map ; and even though she were dis.
poM'd to add to her present almost unwieldy
dominions, she did not possess the uieaiis to
enable her to do so. Her revenue was liniite«l ;
and, in proof, he would mention the fact that alter
the ansistance she rendered to Austria in isiu,
she was compelled to replenish her coHers by
eflccting a loan of upwards of five millions.
Tlie extent of her country, too, was an obstacle,
and the trouble and cost of removing immense
armies thousands of miles would he more than
she Goold bear. Beyond England In Euroiie
they would not hear much of the aggresMoo of
Russia, nor was she stvled perfidious; Imt they
might hiar a good deal about perli<iious AHnon,
and her aggressive policy in the KasL It had
been sai<I witli truth that iiussia had taken lo her*
self important places (him other c«iuntries, but
the exten>ion of her trade re((uired tliem. She
requiri-d ouileu for her manuiaciures, aiid for the
achievcnicnt of that object obstacles should bt
removeil. If ttie mouJi of the Thames were
claimed and occupied by some foreign power to
the iiyury of this country, wouhl not £bglui4
make an effort to obtain pos.tes.sion of it? The
population of Russia mivlit be increasing mon
rapidly than that of France, but it should bt
renienib>^red that Russia contained a gntitt
number of inlinbltnnts tlian France, and con-
seiiuenily her population increased in proportkMk
He contended that the increase ol comtneree ia
Russia would art as a preventive against aggNS-
hion, for it wus not likely th:it, depeniiing a good
deal upon surrouniling states for her trade, and
hoping to still further extend it, she wnuM risk It
! by acLt of agkHYssim. — Mr. Jaliet, in proving Iba
' aggressive |)Ol.cy of Ru>sia, related her aettftr
the past eiglitv years, and expressed his beUtf
that she would ere kmg still further extend her
tfiritory. She had no proper i'oundariea, aid
was divide<l from oihfr states by imaginary Ihics,
which it was probable she would attempt to rs>
move, and extend her own empire. — Mr. J. T.
Turner contended that the states by wfakli
RuH<iia was surroundi^i were obstarles to eii-
i croachmcnt. Sweden, with her brave army and
navy ; FrusRia, with her civilisation and inereaaed
luciiities for warfare; and I'oluml, ever i miiin
bering the wrones inflicted upon her, would
check tlie destructive course of the Caar.— Mr.
Saunders contendeil tliat there w as every
to apprehend agirression from Russia, and
rludtd b> quoting Najioleon's remark at St
Helena, that ni ht>T ycMrs Europe would be Re*
]mblictin or Cnssaek. The hour being now llir
ailvance<), Mr. R. Wiiglit movetl the af\|oummciiK
of the debiue, which was seconded by Sir. W. B.
'»\«
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154
THE INQUIItER.
the fkir Hex ; John Gerald Potter, Esq., was called
to the chair, wlio said, — " In thi« country we can
support societies like this without any tear that
they will become political in their bearing or revo-
lutionary in their tendency. These societies,
although primarily intended to minister to the
improvement of their members, are not necessarily
confined to that object, but have within Uieir
scope the improvement of the world at large.
There are people at the present day who speak of
a little knowledge as a dangerous Uiing. and who
regard these institutions as extremely dangerous
and democratic in their character. But such is
not my opinion, for I believe that they are con-
servative in their tendency and beneficial in their
action ; and believinff so, I wish them prosperity."
The secretary, Mr. Ralph Walsh, tlien read the
report, from whicli it appeared that the society
originated with a few youngr men, who, having
been called upon to speak m public meetings,
found themselves unequal to the task, and, being
desirous of gaining knowledge, and imparting tiie
same to others, tliey resolved themselves into a
society on the Ist of August, 1851. The society
numbers about eighteen members, possesses a
small library of its own, and takes in the British
CoutrovfrMiaUMt, the Working Man» Friend, &c.
During the evening the meeting was enlivened
by speeches and recitations from the members.
Thanks were given to the ladies lor their attention
to the tea, and to the chairman, after which the
meeting sei)arated. R. W.
Cheltenham Mvluai Improvement Society.—
This society was established November SOth, 18U ,
when a few individuak met and drew ap a code ol
rules for its management, and elected a committee,
secretary, and treasurer, from their number to act
for the first half year. The object, as stated in one
of the rules, is the ** improvement of the mind in
different branches of education and reliffion." To
attain this end the members meet weekly in the
vestiy of Salem Chapel, to hold discussions, read
essays, or any otiier employment that is thon^
profitable. Its principles are entirely unsectaram.
Since its commencement it has doubled the noniba
of members, and a library of circulaUon has been
lately established for their use. Among the snh-
jecti that have been discussed are the following >—
" Is it right that Capital Punishment should be
inflicted?" "Is the Sale of Books in Smaday
Schools in accordance with the Word of God f
" Is Coro|)etition Injurious or Beneficial to lbs
Community 7 " Several original essays have been
read by the members. Avery interestinf and
instructive lecture has been delivered by Ttr.
James Lang on Phrenology , and the same genfls-
man has promised to deliver another, on the ** Bz-
tcmal and Internal Evidences of Christiaiii^."
The British CoHtrovenialixt is regularly taken In
by the society. H. W. L., Hon. See.
€)^t 3ni|ttm
QUESTIONS REQUIRING ANSW^ERS.
89. Who were the Port-Royalists quoted in the
article on Rhetoric, II. ; and what were they cele-
brated lor? I have often met with quotations
flrom their writings, but as yet am unacquainted
with the meaning of the " nomme de plume," for
such it appears to be. — S. G.
ttO. If any of your historical fViends would in-
form me of a good and concise English history of
chivalry, ditto of the cnxsodes. and ditto of the
British colonies, I should feel greatly obliged.
J. C Hm
01. Being desirous of studying the Welsh lan-
guage, I should esteem it a great favour if some
one of your correspondents would take the trou-
ble to give me, through the medium of your ex-
eelleni publication, some information as to what
books lire mcist suitable for commencing the study
of tiiat language, and where I am most likely to
obtain thrro. — Vi%tob.
92. In a miHsionary magazine I found the four
nndenncntioned lines. As I have never been
able to trace out their authorship, probably some
of your correspondents can assist me : —
" An Austrian army, awfully arrayed.
Boldly by battery besieged Belgrade ;
Co>sat-k commanders cannonading rome.
Dealing destruction, devaf«ta\ing doom."
In the mngazine these lines were given as an
illustraiiuii ol the khid of alliteration Uiat exi&ts
In .Arsldcjtoetry.—URUM WHAN MAN.
m Cmd MOf of fowr coxre^f<uukaatMintonan»
of any periodical devoted to the sole pmposa ol
publbhiug sermons ? Also, any commentarr «■
the whole Bible, or parts of it, which, aftar amwd
ing explanation of the chapter, or pnm§$
3 uoted, refers for additional inlbrmation Inrgiitaig
le names of authors who have treatsa ct tk*
subject at greater length ? Likewise, any clariod
asMsiant which has arranged a series of laztaod
scripture in the order of the different booki,
quoting the author who has written on each pgi^
ticular text?— DauMWHAN NAN.
M. Will any of your Scotch law studem aift-
scribers have the goo<lness to inform ma vlMl
course of stud^ is necessary to acquire a '.
ledge of the principles of conveyanang r
to the law qf Scotland / I am quite awira
inquiry, as applicable to EngUsh law, is i
answered in your pages.— Lex.
00. If any of your readers would giva me in*
formation on the art of transparent paintincaB
gla.ss, for the use of the magic lantemTwty
would oblige. — J. G.
d6. Will any of your correspondents intaM
me what is required before a person aan Tnglflj
style himself an " actuary ?"— C. L.
07. A. B. would l>e obliged by informatUm as
to how he can be admitted into one of the Mai*
chestf r engineering firms, as learner of the tndii
or art of practical engineering. Several
stances prevent his being a|iprenUoed.
is nineteen years of age. Seoond, he has nok't
*' necessary pecuniary qualification '* Itar <
a term of years independent of reoeiving ■«■■
proportion of eaih for laboor. He, kontw^lHl
TI1K INQUIltKR.
155
• froenl knowledcv ol' tfae theory of Inl^r)lallictl
wad maehixxtrj,nnaim awan* that phjfrieal labour
fr • rkief reqaimnent. Thin latter element he
Msts to be able to supply, and b^ing of ait iuven-
ti«*, eooatructiTC, or mechanical turn of mind,
tad «f an aecive temperunent, he would, duubt-
ln»,|ife aattafartion to hU employer.
ANSWERS TO QCKSTIONS.
7± Mutie — It is impoMible for us to presirrilK>
« nacC rcoMtly for J. A. There may bv t'Ome
Met either in Ibe ear for, or rifrht p«>rce))tion of,
wnrnc. Or it may l>e owiiif? to lack of dexteniy
vflMDd,wfaieh i» a more U9ualbairiertoprofrre»M |
Am MMBC are ready to admit. Your bent, and a^
ittMsra to us, only remeily, is to eonNult Kome
fvodBamer. Oet him to ailrnd you while you
fo Oaoanh a few of your exerciser, and he will
>MK Ukdy discoTer and put you in the way of
Kiuei|iujc your defect Z k .no.
n. Stnm'om in Javnur of Uomimpnihy. — The
•cmoD referred to wns prcarlud on behnlf of the
flowBopatbic Hoiipiial, by the Kev. — AvercKt,
■ai *M printMl under the motto:—" Heal ihe
Mk, cfeanse Che leper, at you prearii the go^jiel."
"A Coosuut Header " will lind it lelenvd to at
wiaiJuable len|rth in l>r. Cormai'k's speech at
Cienmiverftary meetintr of tlie Provincial Metlical
BiJ Surgical Asaociaiion, held at Brighton Ia»t
Aofibt, and reported in the journal of the same
UBf fur August ilKh.— Vi nclum.
n. Tk« Amtsmnt of 6'o/d in C imitation.— lu
in^ to Uie fiuestion *as to ** the probable amount
■^ pld, in sovereiKUS and half sovereifms, at
Ktwnt in eirrulation tlirov^Hiout llie United
Enfdom of Great Britain and Ireland, irrespec-
li«c of what may be held at the Bank of Enf;-
hai," I beg to state that I hare based my
wtaJakm on Sir Robert Peel'^ declaration in
lalHwm some five years si(u, when he drrlarrd
te it was a very difficult question to answer
*9metlfT yet hy observation of the cireulaUon,
W mme lo the conclusion that it was ft'om thirty
to ftffy millions. I have, therefore, taken t)iirty-
fiv nilHons, and have udded to it the dijfrrenl
fttrtf return of the Mint comase, which makes
s ik«at fifty millions. But 1 have bitterly blamed
pwrmnent for such a pitiful currency for our
4iMe4 population, and in face of the tii/Wmoui
i^ynssiow ot/rre ooinaffc at the Iloyal Mint for
^ people, auti irithdratcing an hundred and
Jf/l9 miUiom of silver tender for an only /uiiy
MAay Under, the worst robbery that was ever
yvpclrated «inee the creation.
I have given In ikHr/awur in all my late pub-
fritiwis the other Jive millions, and state it now
* ifty-five raillioDS, and we have onljr tnenty-
^e KilBons uf silver : — seventy-Mix millions fi»r
Meaty-CUBe millions of people — or ttro p*tund$
lerib^ lAilliny* and Btxpence per head ; wlifivas
ID IMA we bad, for se%enteen millions of people,
• ABO joint— one-iounh gold snd three- t'ourtlis
4mwcuneney, hetidet Bank of England paper
"m dPim fomimd% J^Uen ihiUingt per head.
Aii gm tew kindred aufiiofw to pay for (iro
liJIkNU yearly original labour— so
I, pound for pound, in just eqni-
bat Iha 4mj on which tlie al>ove tnmsac-
nder Ftel'a mbominmble bill of
> cT the Uttted flWMwnr 91UUI- j
lity were taken awny, und the }>oor man lias given
/nur dayn labour ftutonc day of his former just
pay.— E. Tauxtox.
H4, yentriloquitm. — We cAnnot t^U you if there
be any sei>nratc tn-atisi's publishetl on thin sub-
ject—we have never seen or heard of any, and
have been prwtty much am«ing books for Mime
years. We c.in offer you the following informa-
linn on the subject : - Ventriio<inisni (literally,
" belly-spvaking," from ivm/^»-, tlic belly ; and
lof/uor, I speak) is a vdcnl mimicry of soun«Is, by
which an iihuiion \» priNiuccil on the hearer, who
supposcn that the sound vuuics, not from the
mimic, but from some other prn>on. It is, then,
tlie art or prertiee of !>peaking. by means of whitli
tJie voice appears to proc«red from different places,
though the utterer due:* not change bin place, ana
in many inhtances dm-H not appear to speuk. It
has been couKidei-ed that the sounds wens pro-
duced indeiiendent of tlie labial and liiujual
onrans, and ua^ nupiHwcd to be a natural pccu-
lisiity, l)ccause few persons have learned it by
iK'ing taught; but it in corttiin that practice only
is necessary to carry this act •> f illusion to a high
degree of {lerffctiun ; anil that the sound is nn*.
produced during iiispiratiun, but proceeds as
u^ual during respiruticm, with a less opened
mouth. The art of the vcutrilo<iuist consist^
merely in this: — ailir dmwint; a long breath, hi-
brcaihcs it out slowly nnd cmdually, dexterously
dividing the air and diminishing Uie sound of the
voice by the muscles of tlie larynx and the palate,
moving the li]is as little an pusmble. The ** Na-
tional Cycloptedia" fuminlu-s this additional illus-
tration : — The essence of ventrilof^uy consists in
cn^nting illusions us tt) the diiiiouce and direction
whence a sound hat travelled, which arc thus
explained: — 1. Dittam'e. We do not hear th«-
distance which a s<»und has travelled from its
source, but we judge llio distance fnun our former
experience, by cnnipaiing the loudness which wc
hear with the kni>wn distance and knom-n loud-
ness ol similar soundo heard nn former occasionr.
Near sounds are ItMider than distant ones Now,
by ]ireserving Uie same pitch, quality, and dura-
tion, ))Ut witii an aci-uraiely graduated riNluction
of loudness, a series forming in pcrti])ective (if the
trmi be allowed) of sounds may be created, which,
falling in succession on tlic ear, will suggest to
the mind a constantly increasing distaiiro of thu
sound's »ouri;e. In this way Mr. Love (we do
not tltink him the bent modem representative of
his art) protluces un imitation of a recedirii;
wntchniaii crying the hour, so perfect us to Kfh
pear a reality. An eflVirt of a hiuiilar character,
I'Ut in which the source of sound is approochiug,
is i)ro<luce«l at the theatre in the representation
of Macbeth. A military bui'd is lainlly heani,
which gnulually inciTiiseH in loudness, sugursting
to the mind the'nppmarh fnmi a great distance cf
the victorious anny of Macbrth^ until the onii-
nury degree of loudness suggests its proximity,
when the army immediately conies u)K>utlie!itag«-.
The estimate,* then, which is formed of the di^i-
tancc which a sound has tnivcllcd before rcochhig
the ear, is a judgment of the mind formed by
comparing a present percrpiion (by hearing) with
tlie remembrance of a former loudness in eon-
nexion with its known diNtance. 2. IHtrettoH,
The direction whence a sound comes seems to be
judged of by the right or lb(t car lcnc!iM\&% \)v«:
sfraoger imprettion, wbich, Aionenar, tva ouY^
U6
THB INQUIRBR.
iMke place when Uie nouuil'a aouroe is iu a pliui«.
or nearly bo, with a line pa<«inK throu)(h boili
ears. It it Auniliarly known that a person in a
bouse caniiol, bjr Uie noi^e of an approachiufr
oarria{(e, jud)(e with ceitaintr whether it is com*
ing flrom the riyht or lelt. He accurately judge»
it to be approaching, pasning, or n^oeding, as the
caae may be, by tlie ^n^Miuns of loudness, but is
unable to decide with certainty whether its ap-
proach or recession is from up or down the stn^u
Common experience shows the judpnent to be
more fallible oonceming the direction than the
distance of sound The actor Kenemlly, by some
look or gesture, directs tlie atteutiun of hiH auiii-
tofs to thn directiou fivm whence he wishes the
sound to appear to prf>ceed. This materially aids
kha delusion. Finally. It is quite as easy to
speak without moving the jaw, and it is the jaw's
moTemeuts which disturb the features in utter*
fmoe. The labial sounds, as B, P, M. when the
jaw is thus lixed, can l>e made with a slight
movement of the lips. The lips and jawn benig
always somewhat open iluriiig ventriloquy, a
alight labial movemt* ut remains unuo iceii unless
aoecial attention be diret^ed lo it, and all the m<)-
difications of voice can be produced without at all
diatoning the fvatures or moving tlte lips.
C.W.,Jun.
The art of ventriloquism has been enshrouded
in such mystery, tiist the opinion of thf publir has
baen for many years that this woiuierftil faculty,
as they imagine it to be. depends upon ^ome
peculiarity ul organization on the port of him
poBseiiking it; and the deceptions with which some
of its clever practitioners have astonished the
public have be«ii so startling, end ap]»arently
wonderlul, that it is hanlly to be wumivred
that such an opinion should have so long and
uoiyersallv prevailed ; and ihey. knowing full well
Jphu Bull's love lor the marvellous, always en*
diaavour to impress upon their audience tliat it is
au intuitive |tower, und cannot be taught: bitt let
ma tell your oorreHpondeiit.that so lar from bi hig
so, it can and Mom bwu taught. Monsieur Alvx-
anilre, whose name lanks high iu the art, once
essayed to come lu Englnnd to teai*h the art of
imto/jon.hut was disMuaded nrom it by Li* friends,
who told him tliat John Bull would sooner pay a
shilling to hear one that preteiuled to s|ieak with
his belly, than one who taught the art ol imitation.
The art consists in pnNlucing Koundw similar to
what would be producfd were there leal penions
in the place from which you wish your voice to
proceed ; e. g.^ you wish your voice to sound as
It were IW>m a chimney, you proiluce a sound
similar to what would be priMlui-ed by a iierson
in the chimney, and by your gesturrs complete
the delusion. It would take too mnny of these
Eges to iniorm you how all those sounds (him
animnte bodieit ai e produoe«l, such as the saw*
ing and planing of woo*!, 0|M'ning of ginger-in er,
fHrir.g, &c. 5ce., but if you will inlonn me of yoiu*
adilieHs Uirough the meiiium of thin work. I sliall
be hnppy to give you any information vou may
require. Adu^t the ' Labor omnia vincit" priii.
dpie, and in time yon will bec<ime a ventriloquist.
1 do not know of any treatise on the subject, but
I should tliiuk, as the art is alinoKt exvlu^ixely
in the hands of a few, it is ilirir intercHt so to
^eep it A VKXTRii.oQt)iNT.
^ Bkmwi/Uli'* amd A[fM-H» Omk Tr».
(mmtmU.~-Thm fiMMion of ** Fil" ouiy b« briefly
answered thus:— Mr. Alford'a edition of tha
Ure«k Testament is by iar the most alabonit
that has yet appeared in thia country, and, as tka
Edinburgh re%-iewer predicu. may be Jairly qsp
pevted in time to take preoe<lenoe of all oibMa.
But the nature of the discussions introduced inl*
it , and the concluidons come to, although euneio-
lion of their truth is in roost cases enforced 1^
the most crushing logic, are yet such as to rendiT
it extremely inadvisable to commence the study
of the Gr^ek Testament imder his guidance
There is much in his work that will perpfg,
much that will htartle, the inexperaeuced atndenk
For Uiese reasons, the Edinburgh re% iewer rrgnti
ttiat Mr. Alford did not write his commi'ntaiy in
Latin, " for all." he says (1 quote fVum meuMiry),
" who are competent to appreciate his argumeuti,
would be also competent to do so if clotbad in
that garb which transfers discussion Irom Uit
pages of the weekly newspaper to ilia treatiaa of
the matured theologian." The latter will bairt
find points of great interest connected with iba
New I'e^tament discussed with oonsumaaia
ability, but Uie very depth of learning displayai
will be likelT to confound and peipicz a novks
unMcquiiinted with the grotuids of the argumcuia.
Mr. Bioomfleld's woik displeya cunsiderabia
diligence and skill in collecting and epitomising
the labours of ntliers. For one just eiuering on
his theological siu<tis, it will be preferable M
Alford's, to which it will serve very well aa on
introiluction. To render it polert, and worthyof
the reputation it has earned, has been with Mr.
Bluonitield the labour of a life-tune. The nolfli
are very extensive, sometimes perijapa too nwcb
so. 1'he Kmkx of its being dedicated to the primaae
is a sutBcirnt guarantee for the ottkuMoxg of Ibt
viewM sdvocaini. I willjustmenti ntwoamoUv
editions of the Gieek Testament whicb
to nie belter adapted than Mr. Blooratielda
serve as an inuoduciion to Mr. Alfoids
via., that by Dr. Burton, in which ar«
relereiict^ to most theological works whica fiiVi
ought to ptissetts; and Mr. Trolbifie's, ibo
valuable feature of which ia the Orquent refi»
ence to passages iu classical authors, ^irflf
Homer, whidi illustrate customs, G«Temui^ica,iM
iustiuitiuns, alluded to in scripture.
Junior S«>PBiaTia.
Your correspondent*' Fil ' (86). in your Manh
number, makes some inquiries respeding Gmk
Testaments, ospecially as to the cotupiinuist
merits of Lev. H. Alford's and Dr. BloonifieldTa.
With the former I am unaoqueinit d, rveu kf
name ; but if his mode of interpretation be aa y«ar
curre»iK>ndfnt stales. I should u.ink him aof^
thing but a ^ale guide for a theological siudcuCi
and w<»uld have ** no tellowaliip with A/Mf."
Dr Bloomfield I can imheidfatingly racoi^
mend. He has been long known as an at-coo*
plish«Hl Gret-k scliolar, a translator of TiiucyUidca.
and coiupilfr of the *' l^xilogus SdtohiHticua,
and " Epitome Evangt-lica." As a liiblicitl, cr
lather as a NVwTestMiiieni, critic, he standa biftb.
His " Keoen>io SynoptirK, or Critii-al Digest af
the nio«t Imi>ortant Annotations ••! tbe Nov
I'csiamfiit. ' in t< \ois. Kvo. publiMhe«i in D«M.fl^
is aniotttelaboraiewoik.audof wbicbbix "GrcA
'i'entwnit-nt.with cO) ioun English Nutfik. Criicalf
Philological , and hxplanatory,' in % vob. M«%
may be oonaidcrtil as tlic Wife. Tuur vnrrevpaa
dynt majr noi ba mwnrt that A '
THE TOUlfO irUDBHT AXD WBITBR 8 A88ISTAHT.
157
VoloBs of ADiMMatMHM" lo hi» Greek Twttameiii
«M publisbeii last year, mm! on its eoinplrtioii
te ktfued •ollMir vu preaeutnl at Court to
hit MuKitf , by, I kelicve, ihe ArcLbuliop ol
OMiHiMry. Tliis ia a proof of tha ortLodoxy ol
Br. Bloonficld'a ibeolufry. But I caii, (tvm my
•■■ katiwlctlira. teatiiy ttiat the tbcoloKural tenet*
«f D. Bloonilield are aound. iMvinff lor souir
iBttnlud&rd bis ** hdiool and College Urrrk
T— II ini •• and bi« ** Grrek LezicoD to the
3m« Tcatamcat.'* The price of the two latter
voAx ia lile. IStf. cuh ; that of the larxer Greek
TttHnent ia Ci : and tbe Supplemental Volume
Uhmo i«, I ibiiik, Ua.— all puhli>heU hy Loug-
■aaaMiC«».
Ttlpya tvreek Teatament, 3 to1>. 8vo, price
iiUk. (pablisihed by Bobn, Corent Garden', with
EafAwb Ntilea. n Uiu* apoken of by Dr. T. H.
Uorar, in hw ** lutroduciion to tlie Bible : "—
"Alwr a fbinu'e ezaiuinaliun of this edition ol
fbi Gfffdi TrKtainrnt, I consider it the mo»>t
nhMbit of utf that bim yet been published with
mini and pbilolo^ucal a|»paiatus, cspeciallv lor
tutkm* wtM wi»b to purrl>a«e only one rditiuu
tf ifcc Greek TrstamenL ' Thit rriiique, how.
«tr, was written br/ore the publicatiou ol Dr.
Bbonifirlii a Greek TeatameuL But if " Fil '
MaU hj ciianre see the lasit e«lition of Dr. Homt 's
* laii«iiuction." published in lH4ff, " he wi»uM
tarilhattba iioticra of Uie critical rditioiis of ilie
Cntk TeAianieiit, published since that time, are
R^ir with interest to student*." Album.
We Uiank ** Albus ' for the ahore. but as he
W not vren both Ihe works to which "Fil"
Mn to. bff cannot of course speak to their
nlsiu* airrita ; we have iberefure, under tliehe
iHYs, ariditional pleaMire in draaiii^
iMon to tbe following remarks with which « e
helm lavouied, by that eminent biblical
Dr. Davtdaon, of Lancashire Indepcudeut
*llaproper romparison can be instUaied between
teidPMms of the tinrtk Trstament published liy
IlMmfirlfi ai<d Atftml. The latter is iijluiitel>
■VCfiur. The texts of botli, however, are bad.
A« to lb* I'Oies. the deliclenciea of both are ol
Ml mil kinds. While Alloni s notea are not n-ee
fnm UH^* lasiofialisinit tendencies, the iioten ol
BhNsSeld ara Hable lo iha cbaifte of otiier and
kn««T Ibulu But theie in little doubt that
UfanTswili supersede Uloomfitld'a. The latiti
a riv«tly hrkiitd Uie a'ate of knowled^; tlie
td«r ■ mu tt rrrent icorarchtB. Allord is acute,
UsaBlirM Iduiuleiiny and dogmaiic."
W. Emflifk CitmpetitioH.^A leally flrst-rate
~; an rompo»i:ioii is still a deitideraiiim. 1 hi>
i mm ibe lact that it ia exceedingly dilEculi,
indeed, either to teach composition or to write
a book on ii •ystrnuUicuUy . To read |M)od autbors,
aud then repioiluce them on paper, irum memory,
i» tbe iic»>t aiid surest exercise. 1 here is, bow>
ever, a koo«1 book ou " 1 be Art of Compoaition,**
that desrr^es to be better known, written by O. F.
; Graham, the author of several exoelknt aduca.
tioiial morkit. J. B.
va. Actunt-y. — In answer to C. L., as lo what
qualificMtion i» necessary before a person may
lifddly ht>le hiiiiNeli' nu actuary, we are not
Hware oi there beinjr any qualiflcation necessary
l>e.viiiid huMinK M>me post or lollowiiig some
riiiplovment. in which the duties come within the
K<'iierul]y ncufrni^ed mesuing of actuaryship,
such as keeping the acoountN of some public
(■oni|»any, or coinluciing calculations of an exten-
wive chamcier. I'he word *• actuary " is from the
lloiiiHu '* aitnatiut ;" and its eurJier and more
common lueauing moj "short-hand writer," al-
though it was uM'd in other senses, and applied
to uuy |Hri»oii engaged in keeping ihc minutes of
a puitlic cuiiipuny. The mokt genersl senae in
which the teim is notp UKcd in to siKui/V the
mauajffr ul a juint-stock company under a board
oi din-ctun>, paniculHrly of an insuiance com-
pany, wiu-nci' it ha* come to stand genei ally tor
a|>eiMon ^klllrd in Uie doctrine of lile aimuities
Hiid insurances, or in the habit ul giving opinions
upon ciisfh of annuities, rever^iun^ and otlier
coniingeiu-ies. It pioperly, therefore, combines
wiih the duties of secrviary thoite ol a fcieirific
H'Uioer lo ibe boanl which gives him his office
111 all mutters in\ oh ing calculation, on which it
mny lie hupposeil that the mi-mbeni of the board
a'e not gn.erally conversant, or competent to
lonn im «i|iiiiioii lor th« miwlves. Since ilie pass-
ing of the 1- liendly Societies Act of iHlU (-V.i Geo.
111. c. 1:^). the term has uh*o ha^l a liyal signi-
liciiiioii: lor by that act it is provided that no
ju.slice of the peace shall allow any tables. &c.,
to hv Hilopiutl by any friendly soc;eiy, unless the
Muine hhull have l>ern ap(>roved ol by ** two |>er-
^ou.s. Ul lea*-t. known to be prole«»inn'al actuaries,
or perfoiix kkilhd it» rahttlatioftt." By S( and 10
Vii t. riiji. *27. this |M>wer is limited to Ihe actuary
••f the iiaiional ceiit office, or au actuary ol not
leM than live > earn standing to a public ini*uranca
compaiiy. M'ith a view to raiite Uie prolehsioii to
a higher stundinit, an institution ass loimed in
I ondoii >oiiif few )earM hince. caJleil the " Insti-
lute of Actual i(*«.' to ahich only thoHe knoam
Ul he will qualilietl in their piofeshion are ad-
mi ti d 'I'bc n:embei-s of this body are distin-
guished bv ii.r adtiiiion ol F. 1. A. to their namea
— which, I>y the way, tbey do notonen forgwL
C. W.,Jun.
€|i ^^Dirng itiknl nni IVritrr's Slssistniit.
XOGIC CLASS.
miMtJriof Bmnminf.—No. XIV.
ia VlitHTO r^i^va ayJlogislio ezampJea
L Vmi ia MoqA r—how nmr TaKd Mooda
I— «ad whf an ihare onff so many 7
3. Construct Ryllogisma in Bokario, Braman-
tip. CiuntKiien Cesare. Camenes, Dimaris, Diaa«
mis, Daiitpti. FeMipo. and Felapion.
1 Evolve ti>e sevrn lules ol Sylh^ism frcn tb*
Miifiiioiiic Ltitin veisa given iu the ICJU, or tha
traii»)tt:ioii, p. :{iM.
6. fV'iiatarrUM rules of T'lgoR)
158
TRE TOXmO STVDEKT AVD WRITKR 8 AfiSIfiTAXT.
6. Reduce the Syllogisms given in Exercise III.
to their oorreapoading mooas in Figure 1.
7. Give syllo^tic illustrations of the accuracy
of the Mnemonicism on Reduction, p. 207.
N.B. The author of '* The Art of Reasoning '*
regards Uiis as a most important exercise, and
recommends it to the careftil attention of every
pupil in the Logic Class, and the editors hope
that corresponding attention will be bestowed
upon it.
GRAMMAR CLASS.
ExercUeB in Grammar. — No. III.
1. Write out the plurals of the following nouns,
arranging them in a form similar to that given
below.
Ally, abbey, calf, ass, man, child, foot, anny,
half, echo, wish, woman, attorney, aviary, kni^,
brother, goose, box, armadillo, caitdfT, cliff, eano,
buffalo, beauty, life, loaf, pontiff, brief, eoif, ehm-
ney, penny, tooth, pontiff, dish, grotto, fbHo,
dwaif, fife, grief, sheaf, shelf, hoot, strife, puff,
scoff, nuncio, punctilio, motto, portieo, aerai^,
banditto, potato, volcano, louse, ox, die, least-,
focus, genus, genius, sow, hypothesis, dictum,
index, penny, dogma, pea, straph.
3. Show the difference in the applieatioci of
each pair of the double plurals.
3. Supply six nouns which have no plural, vai
twelve which have no sineular.
NOUNS.
Formation of the Plural.
Bythe addi-
tion of ♦'«."
s , sA,cA (sounding te/i),
X and 0, adding ** cm."
y changed into
« MS.-
/,or/e,changedinto
ve*.
Irregolar.
/, or/e, renuuiiiug
regular.
Double plurah.
Exceptions in ** o."
y preceded by a vowel
remaining regular.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— II.
Arithmetic and Algebra.
Quettion^. 16+14+12=42.
As 42 : 136 : : Iti : 48=lst Boy.
— 42 : 126 : : 14 : 42=3nd Boy.
— 42 : 196 : : 12 : 36=3rd Boy.
Quniion 6. The cock No. 1 will fill the cistern
in 6 hours, therefore in I hour it will fill \ part of
the cistern ; similarly , we see that No. 2 will till ^ of
the dstem in 1 hour; therefore these 2 filling-
eooks together will fill|+i=|iinl hour. The
cock No. 3 will empty \ part of the cistern in
1 hoiu-, and No. 4 will empty \ part ; therefore,
these two emptying cocks together will empty
^ Vis I in 1 hour.
Now \\ and f brought to a common denomina-
tors^ and -^ ; hence we see that the 2 emvty-
tHff cucks are more powerful than the 2 filling
ones, by y|^ of the whole cistern in an hoiu*; and
therefore, it the 4 cocks were all set open together,
the EMPTY cistern would never be filled; which
is the answer to the question.
If the cistern were AiU, and all the cocks set
open, it would be emptied in 120 hours.
C. D. S.
This latter is the proper answer; see Erratum,
p. 117.
Que$tiim 7. ^ of | of |s:,\=flriend'8 share in
the ship.
Value of ^ before daman=*Vl«»=£I093 16«.
£am l&t. X 6 =
//
X
n
£64mU$.
But worth of ship after -damage =jE3S000--
£17000= £18000.
.-. Present value of ^, = > V^» = £562 1 Ot.
„ iV= JP^2 10s. X 5=£2812 Id.
.'. Present value of share £2812 10»., and ex-
tent of loss =£5468 15«.-£2812 10s. =£2656 !)s.
J.B.
Questions. x+y=18 (I)
xy=65 (2)
Sq. of 1st equation x*+2xy+y*=394
S ubtracting 4 x (2) iry = 260
x«-2xy+y« =
Extracting sq.rt.x-y= 8 (3)
But x+y=18 (4)
Thenx= 8+ )yfl. .. ,„
And x=i8-lj«+y=i8-y
2y=10
y= 5 Ans.
x=8+5=13.ifu.
64
T.G.
Geometry.
Quettton 3. x= y -g-sSM, ice.
It is evident that in this case the centre of flie
sphere coincides with the centre of the cube, and
that the greatest diagonal of the cube ia dw iSm-
meter of the sphere. But the square of Ob
diagonal equals the sum of the sqoarea of ttw
length of one aide of the cube, and the dfagoaaj
of luiother, and the square of this lest diagdiML
equals twice the square ol the side (£uo. b. l»p.4^
therefore, the square of Uif first diagoital—>^ctiif^
of the diameter of the sphere— is eqotl to flUffe
timeitlieaqaareof tlMtldeoftiiiGiiM. ^. ,
sroncES of books.
159
"&
4. I0« - (-^ )• = 100 - 25 = ^75 =
X As 43-90125 = area of equilateral tri-
__J4a'a0185-t-15, hair the turn of the sides =
intM ss radios of inscribed circle, whence
S«x 31416 = &'3333=26-17d9=area of the
llao:
10x5
50
=5*7735= radios of cir-
ti^eOA 8-00025
Whence 5-7735*x3I4I0=:33-3333=10i-7190 =
of ditto. J. J.
MeehanicM.
QvcriioN 3. It is aaoertaiDed that a dense or
eocspart bodj, when ialliag freely, passes throuffh
ft vpaee of Ift^ feet during the first second. We
taA that the space fallen throufth in 7^ seconds is
teernaed by the following arithmetical oompu^
tatioo, 7)*, or 7 5* x 16A=004 Aet 8^ inches, the
liepth of die pit required. L. B.
(laaCtMi 4. Since the velocity or rate at which
s body would be falling at the end of any given
tiae is equal to the time in seconds multiplied by
S| feet, we have 7x32¥=225^ feet=the rate at
vhich tbe stone would be fidJing at the end of
7 sseoods.
Apm, since the momentum of a body is pro-
paittanal to its velocity and quantity of matter,
we hare, firvtly, 7|x 3*2^=241 -25 feet= velocity
acfrired by the stone at the bottom of the pit ;
od, secondly, 241-25x1 cwt. =241-23 =12 tons
1 cvt 1 «-. 0 Ib.=the momentum of stone when
ICVtlffl-,
itnadkedl
the bottom of the pit.
Cm no.
QUESTIONS FOR SOLUTION.— IV.
Arithmetic and Algebra,
13. Kednce \, I, ^, |, and f . to a cotnmon deno-
minator, and ezplam the process.
14. If 30 men, iu 164 davs of 12 hours each,
build a wall 700 feet long, 12 feet high, and 2 feet
thick, how many men, iu 70 days of 10 hours
each, can build one 000 feet long, 8 feet high, and
ISinchesthicIc?^
1'/. On crrtain goods the duty amounts to
£0740, out of this a discount of 2.;^ per cent is
allowed on the sum actually paid, for prompt pay-
ment. What does the discount amount to ?
16. Given jr+y=20, and x»+y«=232, to find
X and y ?
Geometry,
7. The diameter of a circle is 17. Required the
side of an equilateral triangle construtoed about
it.
8. Two circles touch externally : their diameters
are 12 and 20. Find the side and base of an
isosceles triangle enclosing them.
9. The chord of an arc is 4iX) links, its height
8. Required the area ot the circle of which it
forms a part.
Mechanics,
7. A well is being sunk 40 feet deep, and 17 feet
in diameter ; a cubic foot of the material wei^s
lUO lbs. Find the units of work necessary to
raise the whole to the surface.
8. In what time will a man raise the above with
a windlass if he perform 2600 units of work per
minute, and work 8 houn per day 7
Jntins of %uh.
Ar Life t^Eiward Bainet, late MJ*./or Leedt.
Bv his son, Sdward Baines, Author of the
"History of the Cotton If annfteture." Loug-
aaaaDdCo.
The eonaideration of hiatory is not merely an
bat it is an instructive occupation.
itei the knowledge thua gained of the past is
«ift wi^doMA applied to the present, or with pru-
turn stored up for tho fature. Human nature
kis bsm ihe aanw in aU ages of the world, and
kM^snloped the same properties on every habit-
>Ms spot. Society may have changed its as-
individuals their habits, but man is the
i high datiea rest upon him, the
dangers baaet him, and the same
' is idaoed before him. If, then, we
I dba hiatorie taroU ari^t, we may trace, not
kceowM whieh coammnitiea have taken , but
^|«kiavhicfaBMn should timd. If these re
pBtvBlyto geDoral hislory, with much greater
I* that patteolar portion of it
' or the history of indivi-
oeeo^ied, for the most part.
■la^iAawtha acta of ^fnaical sovereigns, or
w ial||eeta, while the latter
^w flf fm/MimlM Vkm vnto ourselves ; the
JMMtaMa «ft ti Ite hero, ttio other aoqaaints
ns with the man. To all classes, but especially
to the young, biography, rightly studied, must be
of vast importance. Who can peruse the life of a
depraved man, marking its deceitfUl commence*
ment, tracing its gloomy course, and meditating
on its cheerless close, without having his hatred
to vice increased ? Or who can read the history
of a good man, firm in great principles, consistent
in righteous conduct, and happv in himself, with-
out being encouraged to treacl iu his footsteps,
and being strengthened for the perform:*noe of
** every g(x>d word and work 7 " But here the ex.
ercise of discrimination is required, as no charae-
ter is perrectly evil or perfectly good. The heart
of humanity bears indications of great convnl-
fcions, similar to those which geologists tell us
must have taken place in the crust of the earth,
which have lifted to its greatest heights shells that
must have been formed in ocean caverns, and cast
to its deepest depths the fossil upland herb and
mountain moss. It is thus with man ; the loftiest
spirit bears some marks of evil, and the lowMt
<*oul possesses some relics of good ; and we must
not admire all that we see in the one, nor condemn
all that we find in the other.
We offer these words of warning on ^jtSMinl
priodples, and not on leeouni ot ta\^ dsRzv^Scn^
160
S0TICS8 OF BOOKS.
pcculmriiies oonneeed with th« imiividual wbosv
biofHvphy is iu»w before us. Imkeil. m tn froiu
this bving the cms, it hss rsrvly been our lot to
meet with the record of a life of more eoDswleney .
or the detineetton of ft chancer ol more hsruio-
oious proportions. Yea. further, sueli is the high
Mtimn't tuat we form of tlie late M.P. lor Leeila,
Chat we hesitate not to refer to him as a modei for
Ihe young woriiing-men of Englaiid, which it
would be well for them lo study and imiute. In
order to induce our readers to do this, we present
tfa<*m with the following sketch of his Ui'e aud
Edward Baines was bonk on the Ath of Feb.
roary, 1774, at WalU>n-le-I>ale, a TiUape in the
bcautilUl vallry of the Ribble, about a mile from
Preston. His Ibther earrieti on the business of
a grocer, and afterwards Uiat of a cotton-Mpinnvr.
Edward was a hfattLy and spritcbily ch.ld. and
as he tose into boyhood he manifinted more than
the usual amount of mirth aud mischief. He
was sent to tbe free grammar-school of Hawks*
head, the master of which was partial to bis
scholar, and is reported to have ssid that **be
would fitber be a great man, or be haugtrd." He
•Itorwards went to the Preston fr«e>HchooI, whtrre
he ^luesn to have bren a Iradiug Rp.rit in those
juvenile rvbellitms, better known of old tliaii st
pteneut, as *' barrings out." When thtrse buyitth
pranks were Isid aside.aod hean.i hiit compsniuiis,
having been put to business, begun to employ
thrir leLsure in reading, spreuIatinK. and spout-
ing, five of tliein cunorived the pn^ject of rniigra-
tiou. Having heard that in the United Slates
there was great encouragement lur evt-ry kind ui
talent, aiid espediUly a «ant of good srhooN,and
having a conilortable conceit of their own qualifi-
caiiunn, they planned the establinhmfnt of hu
academy on an extensive scale on tlie o her side
of the Atlantic. They allotted to each oilter
their sevenl positions ; young Baines, as a matter
of course, was to be tlie principal ; one of the
number was to be professor ol botanv. another of
muNic, and so forth. Alter long deliWration, il>e
oonsnltaliiiu of maps, &c., they detemiinrd to set
out upon the expediuon. They actuallv leit Pres-
ton one Sunday morning for Uterpool, une hav.
lug in his pocket Uie large sum oi Itti.. auuUier
Ids., and Itie uther three smaller sums. It wou d
acem that a sight of tbe ocean bruugitt them to
ttieir flenses, lor on the following Friday tliey
verr fount! reltuiiing to tl<eir fathers' homes, pit>-
4igad-Iike, with empty pockets anil hungry sio-
machs. Yisionary as Uiis fdieme waa, it waft not
OM»re so than the Vanlisocratical project uf Col •>
ridge, Soulhey, and tlieir fiieuds. a few vearH
later ; and perlia|ts not much more drlukive than
aoroe or tlie schenws that may have flitted befotr
tbe imaginaiion of many whu*>e eyes will lall
apon these paices. But m due timr the aspiring
spirit of youme Baines had to yie d to the stem
realities of life, aud he was bound an ai>prenti«*.'
to a stationer and printer. That otcupatiun ap-
Cian to liavr l>eeii in accordance aiUi ilie intrl.
dual bent of bis dispoaiiion, and he became a
dilivent and expert workman.
Bis lova of atU'ly happily preserved him from
flbe hsbii then hO common in PrrstfU of s|*cnd«ng
the evfiibift at the tavtm. Tht'Tv a as no instiiii-
tlon in that io«n lor the inlrilec iial iiniiruv^.
ment of .he young, i.ut he nobly deieimiurd u
tatahlish one^aad soon, with a bw fncnds,lunDed
a debating society, and afterwahb was instrumen-
tal in opening a news^txmi. Although ihsy • xer-
ciscd tbe greatest discretion in order to avoid
produeing an unhtvonrable iropmeiovi as to the
nature of their disoussions, yet the excitement
attendant tipon the French Revolution caused
them to be suspeeted, and fA^y were thrratfUfd
trith protemtkm &if the magutratn ! The intel-
lectual ciiaraeter of Kdwaid Baines was now
developing itnelf a ith rapidity . It was sound and
vigoroua, not brilliant. In all roattars, personal
aii«l relative, he manifested that deaire tor improve*
mentwhichcharacleriMd him through life. When
about nineteen yean of age his maftrr ondvttook
the publication uf a newspaper callvd tbe Prrttoik
/fevieir, and, though It existMl only twelve months,
itdoabtless gave to the apprentice a bias towsnl
that wi.ieh afterwards became his own nrofrssion,
and tbe mrans ofhi* saoeess and naetulness.
Things went adversrlT whh his master, work
fell off and Edward obimncd his indentures, and,
with the iqiprobation of his paieBts, left i.is
native town to seek his Ibrtune. Tbe brave ap-
preiitioe, atont of heart and limb, ael out frora
Preston to Leeds on foot, with his bundle undei
his arm. He passed on hie way with no eompan
ion but his staff, and all his worldly wealth ii
his uookeL Wearied and w^wom he entered
Leeds, and applieil for a situation in the office o
tbe Ler^ Mfrairp, seereily resolving that if evei
he obtained a tooting there he would nc»i lose il
and ib a few years the office and the n«wspa|<e
became his own. He was reerived into the Mif«
cury office, and soon won the eonlldenev of hi
employers by his industry and good conduct, h
acted on the good old maxim, thai whatever
worth dohiff at all is worth doing well. He lai
the foundutiuiia of future success in the thorou(!
knowledfce and perfoimance of the ilutie» of
workman. His* biographer gives iia a glimpse
the way in which he now spent his leiattre tiin
and it was quite worthy ol him. Hr sought U
friendship ol inielleeiual young men, and becai
H member of the ** Reasoning Society." the obj<
of which was to improve the mind by remliii
and dif«ussious. AJlhoni^ poUiiaal nueatio
were excluded, they were »>naprctc«l, ** in the
stXKl old times,** of being aediliuuii ; but» to rem«
thin impression, four of their nuiDii«r (aioo
whom was Mr. Baines)^ boldly wuitrd upon 1
iua> or, showed him their rules, umI incited k
10 attend one of their meetinf^ Thia he did, i
expressed hiinteif satisfied. Mr. Buiuce wai
inN)uetit speaker at the '* Hcasouis^c Socict> ,*' i
it is sai«l greatly improved b> the cseiTisr ; t
thus became fitted lorthepartmbich heafkerwa
look in the meetings of bia adop ed town, am
tlie aeiiaie of bis couatry. When be first ti
fn>m Lalloa^hireheh«d, aith all bia umiabtlity
talent, a degree of iwoi^maa and aoaic licaitA
of ^peeeh. Both a ere oom^etcd by pubwiak
Ihe pre^idmt, a penetrating man, pionoui
him " a diamtod in the nntgh." Tbcvv w as
leature in his conduct st tliia lime that we gli
record for tlie benefit oi our^outbrid rantlrrs,
that he was always prudent and ooneiiiaior
debaie. He neeer quarrelled or oontnuiicted
when strongly diflWing. he would rnfly ic
effect, '* Do you think it w%% ao ? ** Be m|>i
bi have well uiidrnttood ihepbiluaopfay oi tm
and tw have poseea^ed tbe powor uf aeli-cut
{T^heeoiUmmBd.}
lljjrtnrir.
BY THE AUTIIOK OF "tIIE ART OF KKAnoXING."
No. v. — THE PHILOSOPHY OF LAXCJUAGE.
We intended to attempt the substantiation of the opinion tliat " Thought and Speech
we the some, except that th«» internal and silent discourse of the ilind with lierself is
loiltd ciai'ota — i.e., co;;itatiun; nthilo tlic eil'usion of tlu' mind through tlie lips is
iciMnioated X07OC — 1.?., rational speecli;" that ratio — tluiu;:ht and oratio — thought-
'xprcKuw, are two diilercnt terms to denote the same tiling in different stairs-— by adducinir
illx^tniioBS to prove that even in very many of the minntln' of Lan.cjunge, the operation
of tile came geseric mind-laws might be observed, and thus cn<ieavour to establish it as a
tn:Iif that tkoagh there arc striking; varieties in human hpeech, from the barbarous
Morality of the vocables of the wretched Ksijuimaux — the harsh Tiascalan tongue — the
rjde iaUsfX-taUxe of oar West Indian colonies — the broad Dutch — the monosyllabic
ChiDose — thcunmelodious German — the majestic Spanish — the tluent French — the smoothly
•"^phoDiona Italian — the copious Simscrit — the flexible Greek — the sinewy Latin, to that
Uncage in which, according to Camden, " substantialnesso combineth with delight-
fiiiefise, and fnlnesso with finenessc, seemlincsse with jtortlincssc, and cuiTcntnesse
^t!i stayednesse" — essentially similar necessities of thought are frit, and contrivances
^Kfiarkably alike have beeu employed for the purjxjse of overcoming the difllculties thus
aperienced. But we have been led to ahan<l'jn this desii;n from a conviction that
»i»ije it is undoubtedly a question of great philosopliic imj^rtanee, it is yet destitute of
'Jm practical usefulnej^s which wc dc.'«ire to cultivate in our articles on this topic.
^'e purpose, therefore, in this article to present our reaJ.ers with a succinct resunu- of
Brnncb of the teachings of English Graujmar as shall be assumed in the following articles
« Style; and this we shall do, not because we think that our readers are wholly ignorant of
tie Mibjfct, but because we recognise it as the duty of an instructor who nally desires the
iapn>Teinput of those who study his productions, to presume ignorance on the part of his
mdeiB, UDt only in order that a fair idea of the amount of knowledge desiderated in his
ntdera may be laid before them; but also, that should any of them really be ignornnt,
tltfT may have the opportunity presented to them of furnishing themselves with the
)nom amcmot of knowledge in the preoiso way which is thought most suitable for the
hSCBt amicable co>operation of instructor and instructed. ** To begin at the beginning.*
•hbo^ apparently the u\ast tedious method of procedure, is undoubtedly the best. It
cfl, v» apprehend, offend no one, for he who possesses the knowledge can be but little
iijired by having the sum of that infonuation recalled to his mind, while he who is
nrnmnliilnl with the information cannot be hurt at the offering of the vei^ information
«f «kidli be is in want. Either way, therefore, we ho{)e to be exonerated from blame,
sad to be boooued by the one, as sincerely desirous of his advancement, and by the other,
to create a good understanding between him and ourselves.
162 RHETORIC. — XO. V.
By pursuing this course two very important purposes are subserved: — 1st. Those who
have previously acquired the infonnation have their memoiies refreshed, and their former
acquirements vividly recalled, so that they are better fitted for perusing tlie subsequent
articles intelligently, and judging clearly regarding their merits — their accuracy or inac-
curacy. 2nd. Those who are unacquainted with the preliminary pre- requisites of study
which the given topic demands, are made possessors of the precise amount of information
required, in the order which the writer prefers, and arc thus placed, during the period of
their study of that subject at least, on a par with those of more varied and extensive
acquirements.
The importance and necessity of a knowledge of English Grammar, and the advantages
which it confers, arc so obvious, that little space need be occupied in attempting to reca-
pitulate them. Without such knowledge as it imparts, a correct and idiomatic method of
expressing our thoughts ~ an ability to communicate our ideas in that manner which shall
make them most readily comprehensible to those around us — a clear, concise, and per-
spicuous style — cannot be acquired. It is the foundation of elegance, reBnement, and
effectiveness of speech, the necessary preliminary to the precise utterance of thdught, and
consequently the very basis on which a true and practical Rhetoric must be constracted.
Bightly did the ancients regard it as the propylieum of the temple of Wisdom, which
could only be reached by passing successively through the Trivium and Quadriviwn. The
following quaint lines will inform our readers of the topics of study which were therein
comprised: —
" Gramm. loquitur, DiA. vera docet, Rhet. verba colorat ;
M,us. canit, Ab. nuroerat, Geo. ponderat, Ast. colit astra."
" Allow me, however, before 1 dismiss the subject, to observe that dry and Intricate a^
it may seem to some, it is, however, of great importance, and very nearly connected witlim
the philosophy of the human mind. For if sjieech be the vehicle or interpreter of tlx^
conceptions of our minds, an examination of its structure and progress cannot but unfblcl
many things concerning the nature and progress of our conceptions themselves, and tl2«
operation of our faculties — a subject that is always instructive to man.**
In the preceding article we placed before our readers, in a comprehensive tabol^MT
scheme, the designations, definitions, &c., of the several classes of words; or, as Oi«
grammarians denominate them, " the parts of speech." These, therefore, we shall not
recapitulate, but shall proceed to offer a few observations on the Inflection and Syntax ff
these " parts of speech," in the order which they occupy in that scheme. Previonsljy
lioweveri to doing this, we shall find it necessary to give a few
PREUMUVART DEFINITIONS.
Infuection is a word employed by grammarians to denote those changes which are <f
ought to be made in the form of words, to express any modification of meaning in tlM*^
words.
Stntax informs ns of the rules by which we should be gmded in the arrsngemflBt and
elocation of words in order to form sentences correctly.
• *' Blair's Iccturra,'* is. vol. {. p. 195.
RHETORIC — yO. V. 163
A Sait«ooe is any nnmber of words so collocated as hy their combination to form
cooplete sense — i e., in other words, to enunciate some tmth, make a distinct assertion, or
lUkke known some action or passion.
Remark. — It is not, however, one of the primary duties of grammar to attend to the
uam — that, proper! j speaking, belongs to logic; hence a sentence maj be grammatically
cMTcct, while it contains no definite meaning, or may even be an incoogruoos and incon-
mtent farrago of nonsense. The following illustration we extract from " The Comic
Gnunmar**: — **If the year consi;its of 365 days 6 hours, and January has 31 days, then
tlie relaticm between the corpuscular theory of light and the new views of Mr. Owen is at
wee sabTerted; for, ' when ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise;* because 1,760 yards
mike a mile, and it is universally acknowledged that ' war is the madness of many for the
gSQ of few;' therefore, Sir Isaac Newton was quite right in supposing the diamond to bo
ei>mlnatible." On the contrary, however, no sentence that is ungrammatical can, in the
itiict leose of the term, be said to have a distinct and unmistakable meaning. We may
gQe» at it, and believe that we have found it, or we may charitably assume that we
odentaod it, bfit ungrammatical construction and umneaningness are in reality nearly
iciited to each other.
INFLECTION OF NOUNS AND TRONOUNS.
1. Phofkb Xouns are the names of individual persons or places, as James, London,
Victoria
2. Common Nouns are generic names applicable to several species or individuals, as
Kaa, city, queen.
KcAL Kooas are namet of such olgeeU as impress the senses.
buL Kocxs are names of mental conoeptions.
CoLLECTivB NouKS are namen of classes of objects ; they are singular in form, though referrinfr
ttamj.
^ESBAL KocKS STC the nam^s of asserlions, as to live, reading.
AlfTKACT Nouns are the names of qualities mentally considered as separate existences.
8. Pkrsonal Pronouns are such as refer to persons.
4. SiLATiTS Pronouns are such as carry back the mind to an antecedent noun, or
I^it of a sentence used as a noim. The use of the relative pronoun is to enable us te
*^ftm those compound attributes for which we have no adjectives in our language ; they
<^ never to be used unless when this is the case.
5. AojEcnrs Pronouns are those which indicate, at the same time, both person
•dqoility.
^ottBssrvE PB03I0UVS denofcs person and ownership.
BiaovsTBATivE Pbokouxs point out the particular persons or things to which we refer.
I^ftXBCTivB PaoxouNs are employed when we wish to make assertions regarding the
*<*idaals of a dass separately and severally.
IiMniRTS Pju>aou»s are employed when we do not choose to limit onr assertions to specific
iHbcfi,or are unable to do so.
i Somn are inflected to express number and case.
7. KomiB hsTe two numbers. Singular and Plural ; the former denotes one. the latter
164 RHETORIC. — NO. V.
8. When the letter 8 readily coalesces with the tcrminational sound of a singular noun,
the plural is formed by the addition of that letter.
9. When, however, the * sound does not coalesce euphomouslr, the plural is formed in
one of the following manners: —
1. Those which end in ch (suundiog tth\ «, «A, x, or o, preceded by a consonant, odd M—swilrh,
switches ; glass, glasses ; blush, blushes ; znotto, mottoes.
Note. — Ch sounding Ar, and o preceded by a vowel, as well as canto, duodecimo, grotto, juntu,
octavo, i>ortico, punctillio, proviso, solo, quarto, tyro, add « only.
2. Those which end in y, preceded by u or a consunant, after conforming to the usual orthO'
graphical rule — viz., words ending in y, preceded by m or a consonant, on taking any affix except
ing, change y into t; as, marry, marriage ; merry, merriment; ha]>py, happier; rally, rallied, &c. — add
e<, as sky, skies.
3. All nouns ending in ^—except staff, which has staves, and the following words in / or./>, viz.,
brief, chief, coif, coof, fief, fife, dwarf, grief, giraffe, gulf, hoof, kerchief, and its compounds, proof,
reef, reproof, roof, safe, scarf, serf, strife, surf, turf, and wharf, add « ; but the following words, A-iz.,
beef, calf, elf, half, knife, leaf, life, loaf, self, shelf, sheaf, thief, wife, wolf— change / into v before
adding es.
yote. — Some nouns derived from foreign or dead languages retain the plurals of the original
tongues; some are irregular, some want the plural, some have no singular, while otjiers have
ai>parcntly plural terininations with a singular Mgiiification ; but. llie detail of these minutiee woul.l
lead us too far. Ste, t n this subject, Latliam's " Engliiih Langiiajre."
10. Case is that inflection by which the states and relations of nouns, and tlieir sub-
stitutes, pronouns, arc indicated.
11. There are tlirce cases — Nominative, Possessive, and Objective.
12. A noun is in the Nominative when it is the subject of an affirmation.
13. The Possessive denotes proceeding from or out of, and possession.
14. A noun is in the Objective when it is the name of tlie object upon which an acti '.'U
is performed, or in which the relation implied in a preposition is exhibited.
15. The Nominative and Objective of nouns are alike in form.
16. The Possessive is indicated by the addition of an apostrophe s (s) to the singular,
and by the apostrophe ( ' ) alone in the plural, except when the plural docs not end in s,
in which case the plural follows the same rule as the singular.
Note. — The Possessive is frequently formed by the use 0(0/ before the noun or pronoun, e.g.f The^'
crown of the king. A servant of the Lord. " Ay, and tliat tongue 0/ his which bade the Bomazi^»
mark him." "These threats 0/ theirs disturb me not a jot." This may be called the Prepositions. S>
Possessive.
17. In English nouns Gender is not indicated by inflection, but, in general, by differen.'t^
worils. When this is not the case, a prefix or aflix, denotive of sex, is employed.
18. There are two genders. Masculine and Feminine.
19. Inanimate things and animals, whose gender it is unimportant to distlngtusb, af*^
called Neuter.
20. Pronouns are inflected to expres's Number, Gender, Ca.se, and Person.
21. As pronouns are the substitutes of nouns. Number, Gender, and Case mean precisel J^
the same in relation to them as to nouns.
22. The person speaking^ is called the first — the person addressed^ the second^-tb*
person or thing apoktn of^ the third.
23. As the first and second persons are in general present while speaking or spoken Xih
RnETORIC. — NO. V. 165
their gender is known, &nd the English Langoage, econouucalljr, leaves the pronouns deno-
tire of these persons nniuflected for gender. The tliird person, however, who is perhaps
more frequentl/ absent than present, has the representative pronoun inflected to express
gender.
24. The Personal Pronouns are thus inflected : —
Sixoulah. Plural.
Norn. Pass. ObJ. Norn. Posm. ObJ.
Tim Person, Masculine or Feminine I Mine Me Wc Ouis Us
Second „ „ „ Thou Thine Thee Ye or You Yours You
Masculine He His Him )
Feminine She Hers Her \ They Theirs Them
Neater It Its It j
Third ^
25. The Possessive Adjective Pronouns are derived from the possessive cases of the per-
Botab, and are — my, thy, his, her, its, our, your, tlieir. Mine and thine — euphonic forms
of my and thy — are somethnes used before words beginning with vowels; own is added to
express possession more emphatically.
26. The Demonstrative Adjective Pronouns are — This, that, with their plurals, these,
liose; and yon, yonder.
This sod yon, refer to the nearer or latter mentioned ; that and yonder, to the more distant or prior
BtnUoned.
27. The Distributive Adjective Pronouns are — each, every, cither, neither ; each signifies
t»o taken mdividnally; every, many, singly; either, one of two; neither, none of two:
they are, therefore, singular.
28. The Indefinite Adjective Pronouns are — all, another, any, aught, both, certain, few,
inch, many, none, naught, one, other, several, some, such, whole.
29. The Rdative Pronouns are — who, which, that.
^^ is a|>plied to persons, and things when penionified — which, to the lower animals, and objects
2«aed by neater nouns — Uiat, to prevent the too fV^quent use of who or which.
'Httf are declined alike in jx)th numbers, thus : —
Nominative — Who, which, that.
Possessiue— Whose.
Objective — Whom, which, that.
^^ who, and which, when compounded with ever or soever, are called Compound Relatives.
^.vliidi, and what, when employed to ask questions, are called Interrogative Pronouns. What,
ui relative pronoun, in always neuter ; as an interrogative, it is applicable to all genders.
IXFLECTIOS OP ADJECTIVES.
1. Proper ADJECxn'ES are such as are derived from proper names. They are
iBiio&cted.
2. CoxMOS Adjectives are generic terms used to express the qualities, &c., of
•JBtenccs.
^tu AojEcrrvss express qualities, &c., which affect the senses,
ictu AnjECTlvKS denote the qualities, &c., of mental conceptions.
^AtnciPiAL Adjbctxvbs indicate qualities, &c., combined with a pordon of the assertive power
SttHEaai. Ad JBcnvcs express numbers. They are of two kinds — Cardinal, as one, two, three,
^: Obshcax., •• first, second, third, &c.
^ A^eetnrcs whose ngniflcation is capable of increase or diminution are inflected hj
166 RHETORIC. — NO. V.
4. There are three degrees of comparison — Poaitiye, Comparatiye, and SapeiUtiTe.
When an affjectiTe merely expresses the simple quality, it b said to be in the Positire dein'ee.
When an increase or diminution of the simple quality is indicated, it is in the ComparatiTe.
When the greatest increase or diminution is denoted, it is Superlative.
yote. — There i» no possibility or fixing with precision the meaning of adjectives, as each person':*
ideal diflers fh)m that of his neighbours.
5. All monoejllabic adjectives, and those dissyllabic ones which end in e or ^, form their
comparative by the addition of er or r, and the superlative by est or st ; y (as in the case
of noans) being changed into t before taking the aifix.
6. All other adjectives remain uninflected, but adverbs are empbyed to express those
modifications of idea which comparison involves.
7. A few adjectives are irregular in their inflections. (See Latham*8 " English Lan-
guage.**)
8. When one nonn precedes another, as in Mteel pen, morning star, &c., it ia in onr
opinion better to call the two collocated words a coropotmd noun, than, as is osaallj done,
the former an adjective.
9. A few adverbs admit of inflection, by comparison, like adjectives, as soon, sooner,
soonest.
INPIJiCTlON OF VERBS.
1. Active-Tbassitxve Verbs are those which make assertions regarding actions per-
formed by an agent upon an external object, by which the former influences the latter.
2. AcTiVE-L^RiUvaiTiVE Verbs are those which relate to actions wholly confined
within the agent, and, consequently, not influencing an external object.
3. Passive Verbs are such as indicate the enduring of some action, either pleasing or
painful, by the subject; strictly speaking, however, there are no passive verbs in our
language.
4. Neuter Verbs are such as make affirmations regarding attributes or states of bcin^
v.ithout expressing either action, or endurance.
5. Voice is the technical term which granmiarians employ to indicate the different^
«pecies of verbs; viz., Active-Transitive, Active-Intransitive, Passive, and Neater.
6. Mood is a particular form of the verb bj which the assertion contained in it i»
modified.
There are, it is usually said, fire moods — viz., Indicative, Potential, Subjunctive, Imperative, an<3.
Infinitive ; but in our opinion there are not more than three, if so many — viz., Indicative, Dcsa^
dera'.ive, and Infinitive.
The Indicative simply asserts or asks a question.
The DesideratiTe indicates ittirt^ which may either be expressed in entreaty, command, exhor-
tation, &o.
The Infinitive is the unlimited mention of the assertion. It is frequently, if not always, equivalent
to a noun.
7. Tense denotes the time implied in the verb.
There are no other real tense-inflecUons in English verbs, except those which imply present or
pant time.
8. Ntmiber denotes whether the assertion is made regarding one or more.
9. Person nfers to the subjects of the Terb, whether thej speak, are addressed, or are
spoken about.
BHETORIC. — KO. V.
167
10. Verbs maj rerj nsefnllj be divided into two clissea — vii., Generic and Specific.
11. Generic Verbs are such as express the necessary categories of the intellect regarding
assntions; they are —
rRESBirr tksse.
PAST TENSR.
SIQN-IFICATIOK.
Am
Was
Kxisteuce or beiug
Can
Could
Power or ability
Do
Did
Aetioa or emphatic assertion
Have
Had
Possession
May
Might
Liberty or permission
Moat
Necessity
Shan
Shoultl
Duty or obligation
Will
Would
Volition or intention
a3>i ire commonly denominated auxiliary verbs.
12. An other verbA, as they assert in a mpre limited sense, may be denominated specific.
13. The tense- inflections of verbs may be exhibited tbus —
ACTIVE VOICE.
INDICATIVE.
paESBirr tbicsk.
Pment Paitidple — I«amin;r.
Sittgvlar.
IstPenon. I learn
^ „ Tbou leamest
^ „ He, she, or it learns
(or any noun)
Plural.
We learn
Ye or you learn
They leam
(or any noun)
PAST TEN'SK.
Past Partieiple— Learned.
Singular. Plural.
1st Person. I learned We learned
Snd „ Thouleamedst Yeoryouleamed
3rd „ He, Rhe,orU learned They learned
(or any noun) (or any noun)
DESIDXRATIVR.
Second Person singular— Learn thou.
Second Person plural — Learn ye.
INFINITIVE.
To learn.
U. An the other modifications of tense or mood are made through the aid of the
fweic verbs.
^ when joined to Uie present participle, composes the progressive form of the indicative, bu
*^ comkeded with the past participle, it constitutes the passive voice.
Cia tud may, when joined to the root-form of the verb, compose the present and past of what
tilled Ike potential mood.
Ba7t,joined to the past participle of any verb, forms the perfect and pluperfect indicative.
I>o, tdded to the root>fonn of the verb, constitutes the emphatic indicative.
Vnrtipicfixed to the root-form of any verb, makes the present potential.
SbJl and will, when joined in their present tenses to the root-form of any verb, constitute the
^>ive indieatiTe. Their past lenses, similarly coi\joined, form the past of the potentiaL
^ proper use of the auxiliaries shall and will, are exhibited iu tlie following formula —
?«arity dependent ^ I ) You
OD the > ^ Will He ;- Shall
*ifl of the speaker. ) We ) 1 hey )
)
Futurity independent) I ) You )
of the I Shall He ^Will.
will of tlie speaker. ) We ) Thoy )
I'or the Latinised mode of verb-inHection, see any common English Grammar.
15. The folloiring examples may assist the reader to comprehend this modifying power
^ tbe genaic verbs : —
1 Be ne'er if ervictiecl 2 White cottages tcerr «ee»,
Widi iBBBMntality, who fears to follow With rose trees at the windows.
Wkot airy voieea lead.— Keats. Bryant.
168
RllKTORIC. — NO. V.
3 The miud is its own place, aud in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.
MiLTOX.
4 His tongue
Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear
The better reason, to perj^Iex and dash
Maturest counsel.— Idem.
0 A lover may bestride the gossatner
That idles in the wanlou summer nir,
And yet not full, so light is vanity.
SlIAKSI'EAQE.
G From whose odorous botighs
Mvlove might tceavcgtLj garlands for her brows.
COLHUIDUK.
7 What, in ill thoughts again ? Men mu$t endure
Their goLnj,' henee even as their coming hither,
Ilipeness is till ; come on ! — SnAKSPKAUB.
8 / do lace thee so
That Jtci// shortly send thjr soul to lieaven. — Id.
9 I have lived long enough; my way of life
Is fallen into the sere and yellow leaf. — Idem.
10 Foul deeds tcill ;-*5tf,
(Tliough all the eaith o'erwhelra them) to men's
eyes.— Idem.
11 ' J shall fan
Lilcc a blight exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more. — Idem.
SYNTAX.
1. Syntax is divided into two parts, Concord and Government.
2. Concord is the agreement of one word with another in inHcction.
3. Government is the influence which one word exercises over another to alter its inflections.
4. The general rale of Syntax is that the parts of speech shonld be so colligated as
best to express the relations, connexions, influences, and successions of thought, and to
give accurate and adequate development to our ideas. It is, however, more practically
presented under the following subdivisions : —
SYJiTAX OF VEnnS — THE SUBJECT AND THE VERB.
1. The subject of the vei-b should be in the nominative.
2. A verb should agree with its nominative in number and person.
3. The following is a classified list of the nominatives whicli a verb may have, with the
number and person indicated, viz. : —
Singular.
1st. T.
3nd. Thou, or the name of any person ad-
dressed.
3rd. He, she, or it ; any singulai* noun ; any col-
Pluml.
Ist We.
2nd. Ye or you, and the names of persons aJ-
dressed.
3rd. They ; any plural noun ; any colleclirfl
lective noun signifying f/Ni7|/ of i<Iea; two or more noun signifying plurality uf idea; two or more
singular nouns separated by or ornu/' ; a part of singular nouns conjoined by and; a part of ft
a sentence signifying unity of idea; and the in- sentence signifying plurality of Idea; and two ur
finitive mood used as a noun. more infinitives conjoined by and.
4. Active-transitive verbs govern nouns and pronouns in the objective case.
5. One verb governs another in the infinitive mood.
2V>, the sign of the infinitive, is not used after the verbs, bid, dare, feel, hear, make, need, see, the
generic verbs, and a few others.
6. The verb To be has the same case after as before it.
7. The infinitive mood and the present participle are sometimes used as nouns; when
the latter is so used it requires an article (a, an, or the) before it, and o/* after it.
8YKTAX OF KODX8 AXD PRONOUNS.
1. Nouns, pronouns, and parts of sentences, when put in oppo>.ilion — 1.«., when they are
employed to express the same thing— agree in case.
RHETOKIC. — NO. V. 169
Aootin or pronoun which answers a question should be in the same case as that which asks it.
2. A noun or pronomi which denotes the possessor of an object, is put in the possessive case.
Wben two or more noons are employed to designate the possessor, the latter or last only, takes the
jKnxtsive form, but if one object or more belongs at once to two or more individuals, each of the
ciMtts Thich name them take the possessive.
3. Personal pronouns agree in gender, number and person, with the nouns of which
tlfj are the substitutes.
4. A relative pronoun is the nominative to a verb when no noun intervenes between tlic
relatrre and the verb.
5. Aiijectivo pronouns are used to qualify nouns.
6. The distributive pronnuns require verbs and prohotms in the singular.
7. The demonstrative pronouns agree in number with the nouns which they qualify.
SYNTAX OP ADJECTIVES.
1. Adjectives sometimes govern the infinitive mood.
2. T^Tien opposition is signified by a comparative adjective, it requires than after it ;
vben distinction is indicated, of is necessary.
3. Dotible comparatives and superlatives are improper.
4. Adjectives should not be used as adverbs, nor adverbs as adjectives.
VmxX OF ADVERBS, PREPOSITIONS, COXJUNCTIOXS, AKD INTERJECFIOXS.
1- Adverbs are generally placed, 1st before adjectives; 2nd, after active-intransitive
»i neater verbs; 3rd, between the generic verbs and the root-form of the other verb;
*^. either before an active-transitive verb or after the object upon which their influence
cpends itself.
2. Prepositions govern nouns and pronouns in the objective case.
3. Certain words and phrases require particular prepositions after them, Thcso, how-
*T«r, can only be learned accurately from careful reading. (See, however, a collection of
''adj words in any grammar.)
4. Oxijunction conjoins the same cases of nouns or pronouns, and the same moods and
^^sm of verbs, unless the sense absolutely requires that they shoul^ be changed.
SoBe eonjoDctums hare corresponding coi\junctions, e. g. — as, as ; as, so ; both, and ; elher, or
*^BKr,iMir; so, as ; so, that; thougR, yet; whether, or; &c.
5. Interjections generally have no power over other words, but 0! oh! ah! require the
ol>j«^e case of the pronoim of the first person, and the nominative of the second.
Soch is a brief glance of the grammatical knowledge which we shall presume our readers
^ poitess, in <mr future papers. The extreme length of our present article precludes
^ttker remark. In our next prelection, " On the History and Structure of the English
I'agiiage," we shall restune the subject in a style less dry and formal. Meanwhile wo
Bust runind our impatient readers, that sound grammatical information is the basis of
>^ tod b therefore deserving of some attention. This we hope they will bestow, and if
^de so, they irill have no cause hereafter to rue*the irksome labour which it cost them ;
ttdwc shall now conclude with the words which we employed in our first paper two years
*gSlet these things be well understood, and "let their value be accurately appreciated
**) 10 than we the lest require to interlard our future articles with explanatory clauses
«dp«eBtbeCiaa
170
CAV CHBI8TIA2rS| fX>R8I8TEKTLT WITH THEIR FBIXCIPLES,
Ktliginn.
CAN CHRISTIANS, CONSISTENTLY WITH THEIR PRINCIPLES, REXDEK
SUPPORT TO THE BRITISH STAGE ?
Al'FIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
BouKDARiES are always perplexing. No
eye can perceive tlie limit where the dubious
shadow merges into the flickering light.
The microscope unsettles the divisions of
the naturalist; Oregon and Cafiraiia disturb
the politician; theologians quarrel over the
subtleties of grace; and the peccadilloes of
one moralist are the damning criminalities
of another. The circumference of pleasure
within which a religions man may safely
indulge, has always been one of those vexed
questions so desirable yet so difficult to be
solved. All, however, who have any right
sense, deny the applicability of the third
postcdate of Enclid— ** that a circle may be
described from any centre and with any
radius.** But upon this, as upon every
other similar subject, there might be more
proximity of opinion, if candonr and liberality
would bring the disputants fairly together.
Unfortunately, men are accustomed to qualrel
violently in proportion as it is their duty
and interest to enjoy one another's friend-
ship. As religion is the dearest concern of
mankind, it has disturbed the relations of
society with melancholy consistency, and it
will continue to do so while human nature
retains its present constitntion. It would,
perhaps, be vain to attempt the conversion
of mankind to one system of theology : men
are fond of pet dogmas, and when these are
harmless, neighbours would do well to con-
sider <hem innocent; but it is neither vain
nor unserviceable to attempt to bring the
world to one way of thinking upon minor
questions of practical morality. Why may
not the disciples of Swetlenborg, Knox, and
Whitfield meet the men of the world with
smiling looks upon neutral ground? It is
true that ovil commnnications corrupt good
manners; but it is also true that good
communications improve bad manners. As
affairs at present stand, the envy which
wishes to t/ojttj earth, yet dares not, denounces
plcaanre as a delusion of Satan: the world-
liness which is inwardly abashed shakes off
its restraint by a sarcasm against hypocrisy.
Under the excitement of rancour the breach
cannot be healed; a pettish humour will not
allow of a parley; so that each party con-
tinues to spite itself out of spite to its
opponent.
The question proposed at the head of onr
article is an excellent introduction to the
general dispute. Upon the decision wiW
turn the fate of the whole tribe of these
social disagreements. If plays are sanctioned,
certainly there will be no prohibition ot*
pictures, music, dancing, and other agreeable
means of relieving our monotonous hours.
Those who rogard these inquiries as mere
subterfuges to provoke a dalliance with sin,
may as well lay doitu the page and rejdcc
in their possession of an intnitiTe excellence.
The common objections to play-going are
three — the immorality and indelicacy of the
performance ; the loose habits into which tlic
frequenters of the theatre are likely to fall ;
and the craving for excitement which is en-
gendered in the mind.
Against the first charge of inr^morality il
may be replied, that it is an incidental, not
an essential, objection. It is allowed h)
critics that virtnous sentiments are the sol*
foundation of good writing. Vice may bt
pompons and gaudy, but it dares not aaanm
the disguise of a majeetio simpHoity. Tb
highest conceptions of genius are by natui
devoted in the womb to the cause of trotl
The drama, above all other compositicm, hi
the privilege of striking the soul with tl
irUamty of goodness; it combines the vivi<
ness of contrast, the interest of incident, tl
charm of variety, and the force of realit
while the feelings are yet soft with pity,
warm with past-ion, it impresses the less
which memory will hold with the tenaci
of instinct. But to produce this wort
effect all the faculties must be engaged
the whole being absorbed; we must forsa
the eloset and go to the stage; the imagii
tion must be laid under the enchaatment
BEXDEB SUrrORT TO THE BRTTISII STAGE?
171
action: ejes and ears must witness the
eanurstD<*s5 of suffering, the terrible sgonj
of fmilt, and the sublime countenance of
berqism. The tones and gestures of human
utore mnst refine our ^ympatiiies, and ren-
der u M>nsiti%-e to the appeals of mute
craujij^ While tragedy will tutor our
incst p\.<4ions, coinctlj will restrain the
poitrr inclinations which perrert the liappi-
neu of commuQ life. I'he mirror held up to
Barore will shock with the image of our own
fi^es; we shall be the more inclined to
eotrvct them, berauMf though the wit was
pointed and sank deep, we were solitary
vitcesses to onr inward shame. In a w<M-d,
the dnma will educate the heart by msking
h &miUar with excellence.
'^ It is snswcred, that Christians do not
flBoIste ihe task of heroes, 1>ih»us« their
duty is confined to the ezerci^tc of sober
virtues. But Christians have no right to
ifansk from the world. Luther, Knox, Bun-
jm, Wesley, ami Howard were brought face
to face with troubles and contentions; it was
tb £ri:ie spirit of enthusiasm which lifted
thoa abuve terror. Every man, in his sta-
tin, may wish to persuade a neighbour of
IW benefits of relisrion ; but the intellect will
iddom be converted until the feelings are
tndied; there must be rapture in tlie
pnacber who wouki startle apathy. The
duties who reject the aid of learning, and
tW qvietists who repress emotion, coaimit
Cnlti equally fatal. A Christian must take
tW Wfirid as it is— not an association of
Wdnu and elders, but a rough multitude,
*k» Bust be acted upon by strong influences.
V ht oodtrstand nature, lie will know that
pMwm is the key to the heart, and that the
piUns of Orplwns must win mankind to
in the art of Propsgandism could
k aswhere better acquired than in the exhi-
WoM of a talenteil and moral theatre.
VWtker the British stage of the present
^ en claim the merit of such bi*neiicent
jiiKnee is a question requiring details. It
■ sdnowledgctl that mere theatrical enter-
^■■eot has usurped the ]Jace of t he drama ;
^Matpe. in fiu^, is no longer a stage, but a
|hei dsTotcd to scciuc display, witticisms,
r, eranei^ent satire, and, in some
to smart ribmldrr addressed to
spectators. A few hours' mere
u tbe confeised object of the
sight-seers, and it consequently depends
upon the character of the individual whether
or not he should run the hazard of a ques-
tionable indulgence. It is undeniable that
in too many cases persons of delicate taste
and fCVL-re self-respect could not witness the
mod«'m spectacle with satisfaction, while
the susceptibility of youth is perilled with-
out the coinpcnfation which works of true
genius would alTiifrd.
The second objection, that the frequenters
of the theatre mu»t necessarily fall into
loose habits, is not only trivial but also
foreign. Every evening entertainment of a
town is dangerous to those who have no
moral restraint. The temptations, besides,
arc out of doors, and the weakness of those
who fall into them is in nowise attributable
to a short hours acting, but to the neglect
uf responsibilities during long yoan, when
young but strong si'lf-will was establishing
the vicious character. The Christian who
cannot run the gauntlet of a visit to a play-
house, may be benefited by considering the
phantasms that bewitclied the saintly her-
mits of old in the seclusion of deserts.
I The third and the strongest plea which
can be objected to dramatic representations is
their tendency to create a craving for cxcite-
1 nient. This can be insisted upon with force
, in opposition to the light and exhilarating
j productions now so prevalent. Melpomene
herself cannot bo acquitted without exami-
I nation. It may be urged that tlie m<Nnents
of life are pre-occupied for the most pressing
interests. The acquibition of heaven is a
task so anluous, that it will not admit of
the briefest intermission; the elevated tem-
per of the pious mind cannot be disturbed
by the violent tranntions of a romance,
which toaches nothing beyond a philosophic
morality; and further, the demands of social
Christianity occupy the leisure which is
required to be '* fruitful in good works.*'
Such considerations would be unanswerable
if they were admitted to represent the in-
dispen5able demands of religion. But do
they present a just estimate of the duty of
a Christian? Js he commanded to dwindle
his life between strained efforts of mystical
devotion and the stiff performance of charity ?
There is a grace that should accompany
benevolence which enhances the service, and
endears the giver. This grace is the off-
spring of a cultivated taste; the sensibilitiea
172
CAN CHRISTIANS, COXSISTENTLY WITH TIIBIS PllISCIPLUS,
are educated in tlie presence of beautiful
objects; the mind which is fainihar with
the noblest ideas of literature carries with
it solace for the afflicted and strength for
the desponding. Warmth of feeling and
delicacy of behaviour, so far from being
incompatible with religion, are calculated to
support and recommend it. Tliis sjrmpathy
is to be cultivated in the intercourse of
society, or in the impressive company of
great N\Titers. So long as conscience and
the curb of occasional retirement impose a
due restraint, there need be no alarm that
the soul will be jeopardized by a hydrophobic
aversion for sacred things. Besides, all
morality is akin, whether contained in AJcen-
side's *' Pleasures of Imagination," Beattie's
" Minstrel," or the Bible. There is a great
difference between diverging from a path at
right angles, and walking in a line parallel
to it. If a love of art or an admiration of
nature be sufdcieut to debar from paradise,
alas! for thousands of Christians, whose
amiable dispositions will forfeit the reward
which Calvin will inherit.
When we dread a reasonable excitement,
we are in effect careless of the health which
is supported by activity. Stagnation is death.
The exclusively pious are aware of this, and
endeavour to stir their dulness with revivals
and jubilees. None but the morose enthu-
siast or the long-habituated devotee can
fiiibduc affections within the limits of sec-
tarian propriety. Tlie eye will be charmed
with colour and the ear with sound, not-
withstanding the code of a factitious con-
science; common sense hns an affinity for
innocence, and will not be imposed iipon by
the story of a lurking sin. New scenes and
new associations of ideas stimulate the facul-
ties, and the mind returns refreshed to the
enjoyment of its habitual duties. And if
the charms of a landscape, the grace of an
exquisite statue, the harmony of light and
sound, are gratifications indulged in by many
serious people, how can the nobler tragic
spectacle be, with any plausibility, renounced?
There is nothing so terrible in human nature
that it should bo dangerous to regard it under
the aspect of glowing sentiments. Fervent
Christians live in an atmosphere of excite-
ment; they are alternately depressed and
exalted; they reflect upon miracles and
anticipate glory. The occasional sympathy
awakened by fictitious passion would not
weaken anxiety for their own vatt expcc
tations, but would rather benefit by checking
selfishness, and by cherishing an interest ii
the active existence of the world. It is tb
great failing of what are termed evangelici
preachers, that they isolate Christianity, anc
speak vaguely of the love of Christ and th(
influence of the Spirit; salvation with then
appears to depend chiefly upon the pv'rsona
disposition being elevated to an undefined
state of communion with the divhie nature
These indistinct notions float upon the brain
of their hearers, who caimot afterwards
reconcile themselves to the blunt presence of
a mattrr-of-fact life. The imperative dntiei
of citizenship and of social politics demand
the respect — ^in fact, tlie honourable atten-
tion— of every member of a state. To per-
form these duties in a becoming manner,
there is required something bey end mere
pious placidity. The spirit must be roughened,
or a good-natured obsei]uioiisness will allow
the defeat of an honest cause. This is t
world of busthng and roguery, where good
men who have the power are bound to inte^
pose the terrors of justice in defence of the
weak. The necessity for these sterner
qualifications being undeniable, it remains
only to decide whether tliey may not be a
a ;rreat measure acquired, by frequent perosil
of the lives of illustrious wortJiies, or by tbs
discipline of the dramatic stage. If tbt
stage be a moral one, its efiicicncy in tlus
regard cannot be questioned; and it should
bo borne in mind, that the lessons of sach s
master would allow an abbreviated term ff
dangerous apprenticeship to the world.
It will be observed, that our arguments it
favour of play-going liave been placed nodtf
restrictions which must be approved by enrj
correct judgment. The indiscriminate per*
suit of pleasure is reprobated by pmdeocs
as strongly as by religion. None but tke
unthinking will regret that the comptss of
their enjoyments is to be circumscribed by *
boundary that will exclude the possibiUty d
remorse. Whether a Christian can rendet
support to an immoral British stage, is i
question that calls fur no discussioo. Whl^
ther the British stage is and has been i
moral one, is not a translation of the tcnai
proposed for debate. We have accepted tb
only construction which can bo put npoa til
words of the question. Tlie limitatMi
which we have enforced were obTionsly ■■
re:(der support to the brittsii stage ?
173
xT:^b:e; and the conclusions at which we I
bv* arrired follow, we trust, from an im- !
partial judgment, and not from any unworthy ;
ss^tcinQ of those who attach higher solem-
mty to the purposes of life. A serious
temper U the acknowledged foundation of
ererr ejuuted virtue; but seriousness must
I* i« xuted with cheerfulness, or Chris-
tianity vrill degenerate into misanthropy.
Our u.^i;ni has been to show that there is
no necessary evil attendant uiwn theatrical
performances. If our opinions appear un-
founded, let our opponents cancel the con-
firmation of the irreproachable Milton: —
" Sometimes let frorRcous Tratjcdy
In sceptred pall rome sweepintj by,
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops" line,
Or the tule of Troy di%'iue,
i >r what (ihuu^h rare) of lator aee
EuQoblcd hath tlie buskiu'd stu>av"
II. T.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
■
It L'» oar purpose in this article to prove,
^ teir argument and logical inference, that
tbe dmna, in its spirit and tendency, is an-
tas;otustic to the spirit and genius of Chris-
tiMity; and if we succeed in proving this,
the inference will be that Christians cannot,
ccfflstent'y with their principl«'s, patronize
t» British or any other stage for dramatic
KprescBtations.
Tee first argument we adduce in favour
«f«ar position is, that in numerous plays
tk holy name of God is irreverently and
uotwnoniotisly introduced, thereby setting
tt vazht a plain but imperative command,
''Tbnu »halt not take the name of the Lord
At God iu vain." "We give the following: as
> f«v instances out of a great many in
^Heh this irreverent mention of God's name
"Mach Ado About Nothing," Act II.,
&tte 0; Jbid^ Act III., Scenes 1 and 4;
''Lwnj's Labour's Lost," Act I., Scene 1 ;
ft< Act v., Scene 2; ** Merchant of
Vttic^•' Act IL, Scene 2; " AUs Well that
£»ds Well,'' Act IL, Scenes 2 and 3 ;
""Taruj^ of the Shrew," Act IV., Scene 5;
"CwKdy of Errors," Act IV., Scene 4 ;
"fcawo and Juliet,'' Act I., Scene 5; Ibid.,
A« IL, Scene 4. Our friends will perceive
^ cor eelectioDS are from the writings of
^ )p«at master-mind, and that we have
Ml noticed works of inferior men.
Bit not only on the stage is the third
<— nurfmcnt impiously violated : but
•mg the company who frequent theatres
>c to be finrnd those who are ever and anon
i"Biffng the ears of the more polite and
^Uicd part cxf tlie audience by their rude,
ttm^ end impidis Todfrrations, tainting
^ very atmosphere by their pcstiferoas
>il BcooM it it the resort chiefly of
tlie immoral and profligate. " Let your
light so shine before men, that they may sec
your good works, and glorify your Tnther
which is in heaven," is the e.^hortation of Hiiu
"who spake as n<?ver man spake." If it be
the dnty of Christians to set a good example
before the world, how can tlwy be said to do
this if by their presence and influence they
countenance the proiiigncy and vice too
generally to be met with in and about
theatres ? We may be met here by profes-
sors of religion saying, But we do not
countenance vice; the very sensibilities of
our nature are shocked at witnessinj; indc-
cency or vulgarity anywhere. But, friends,
how comes it to pass that you are found in
such society ? " What fellowship hath
righteousness with unrighteousness ? and
what communion hath light with darkness? '
It api'cars the same attractions drew you
together; but the vicious are more consist-
ent than you, tor whilst they faithfully
serve their master. Sin, and profess at-
tachment to no other, you, on the contrary,
while professing attachment to Christ,
sanction, by your presence and influence, the
deeds of darkness.
3rd. Because the stnire has a tendencv to
inflame those passions which we arc called
ujion in the word of God to subdue. Man
comes into life with affections and suscep-
tibilities suited to his nature, and if properly
cultured and direi'ted, they would subscr\*e
the purposes of his being, and godliness and
virtue would characterize his life ; but unfor-
tunately in too many instances a bias is
given to his inclinations which has the op-
posite effect, so that instead of a life of
virtuous action, one of deleterious tendency
is the result.
One or more of the irregular passions.
en^T", malice, jealousy, &c., form the basU ^ii^
174
CAN CIIIUSTIAIIS KEVDEB St'PPORT TO THE BRITISH STAGE?
all plays. Now, we ask, what onQobling
qaality is discoverable in envy ? What
christian grace in malice ? What virtuous
disposition in jc4kIousy ? Surely it is the
duty and interest of every man to curb the
irregular desires of his nature; but theatri-
cal representations have the contrary effect,
for tliey fin to a blaze tliose latent propen-
sities.
4th. Beitanse it is temporizing, and lowers
the standard of moral obligation.
The wibe.-«t and safest metliod man can
adopt is to make all his advantages 8ubser\'e
the good of his soul : liis time, opportunities,
privileges, and advantages, are all talents
given, or rather lent him, by his beneficent
Creator, God, to profit withal ; and according
to the proper or improper use <»f these will
be his condition in time and eternity. Does
the stage enforce the commands of God ?
Does it incite to love and obedience ? Does
it imbue the heart with philanthropic senti-
ments ? Does it enable man to view with
feelings of commiseration the suifering and
distressed ? Does it give to his heart kind
and sympathetic affections ? Does it prompt
him to acts of piety and mercy ? In a
word, does it teach him his duty to God and
his fellow-man ? —
'* Life, like every other blfusing,
DeriTcs its value from its use alune ;
Not for itself, but for a nobler end,
Th' Eternal gave it; and that en<I is virtue."
5th. Because the glory of Gofl is not
the object sought by dramatic representa-
tions. The clmrch at Corinth was thus
exhorted : — " Whether therefore ye cat or
drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the
glory of God.*' We fear that the Christian's
duties are too generally lost sight of. Chris-
tianity will not admit of any compromise.
The spirit of Christ and the spirit of the
world have ever been opposed to each other;
and Christians are commanded to "come out
from among them and be separate." Many
are the means now in operation to alleviate
suffering humanity. To raise man to dig-
nity and honour— to bring hitn to a state
of consciousness relative to the imiKsrishable
constitution of his soul— to induce in him
holr incentives to action — to lead him to
God; — does the stage exhibit those features?
Does it inform man as to his lost and ruined
condition, and alienation from God ? Does
Jt point to the '^ Lamb of God, which taketh
away the sin of the world ** ? We know it
does none of these : en/Oj it is not a fitting
place for saint or sinner. The profession of
the fi>nncr is incompatible with, and opposed
to, the spirit of the stage; while the latter
is procrastinating with the gracious invita-
tions of heaven, and making the probability
of his s.ilvation more doubtful.
7 th. Because it disqualifies the soul for
devotional exercises. Comnmnion with God
is the life of the soul ; it is the highest pri-
vilege enjoyed by men or angels; it brings
into one fellowship the Infinite and the finite;
it lights up the soul with holy ardency, and
it invigorates and strengthens its powen.
If, therefore, a Christian would retain a seme
of God's favour, and experience the delights
resulting from communion with his Makar,
he must cultivate the graces and virtocs of
the Holy Spirit, and keep aloof from those
infiuences that only enervate and enfeeble
his powers. When the hour of prayer
arrives, will the reminiscence of the scenes
he has witnessed at the theatre aflbrd him
suitable reflections — inspire him with hol^
confidence — or induce that calm, aenat,
and peaceful composure of mind so necessaiy
on these occasions ? Let conscience supply
the answer.
We have thus given a few reasons why
we conceive it to be the duty of Christians
to withhold all support from the stage.
Whether we are right or wrong, "judge ye."
But there are other weighty consideratiou
quite in harmony with the foregoing, which,
for want of space, we can only glance at m
pauant :— 1st. Would Christians tolerate m
their own houses, and in the presence of
their families, the language employed, and
the scenes exhibited, in theatres ? Sod.
Would they consider the morals of thdr
families improved bj these exhibttioos?
8rd. Are the advantages and pleasons
derived from theatrical performances eqiu-
valent to the time spent in witnessing tbtn?
4th. What proportion do they bear in the
scale of promoting the general good of msa-
kind? 5th. What are the motives by wUdi
the actors are influenced ? 6th. What is
the general character of stage pUycct?
These and other questions of a like import
should be maturely weighed ere Christim
give their sanction and support to the Bri-
tish stage.
We are here reminded of a hct we
U BOXOEOPATHY TRUE IN PRINCIPLE AND UUNEKICIAL UY PRACTICE? 175
ead of bearlog on thia subject: it was in
nbfUnce as follows: — A lad/ with whom
be Ber. James Herrej chanced to be travel-
isf, took occasion, among other things, to
ipnk in high commendation of theatrical
unaianeots. She observed, — " There was
pleasure in thinlung on the plaj before she
wBt : pleasure which she enjoyed when
there; and pleasure in ruminating upon it
viMHk she retired to her bed at night." Mr.
Herrey (who sat and listened without inter-
rupting her), when she had concluded, said
to her, ** that there was one pleasure more,
which she had forgot to mention." " Wiiat
can that be ? ** said she, ** for sure I included
rrcTf pleasure, when I considered the enjoy-
acBt beforehand, at the time, and atti'r-
wards. Praj, sir, what is it ? " To which
|ir. Herrej, with a grave look, and in a
tekam manner, answered, ** Madam, it is
tbe pleamre it will afford you on a death-
bed.*' The reproof was seasonable, and its
cflkt sBch that she never vbited the theatre
muM: hot, becoming pious, secured those
blaaingt which only can afford satisfaction
h ieath. Well might the poet say —
'All bal. Beliffkm ! tboa alone can'st fire
Oir kitMiiiifg thoughts with newa beyond ttie
T* Wiidbter plains by thee we dare aspire,
As4 kstteh a Coretasie of the world to conM."
We eondnd* bj offering a word of counsel
and advice to our young friends, in whose
welfare we take particular interest. — 1st.
Seek to realize, by faith in the Lord Jesus
Christ, a sense of God*s approving smile,
and endeavour to keep that evidence bright,
by constant watchfulness and fervent prayer.
2nd. Endeavour to subdue and conquer
every unholy affection and disposition, by
yielding to and encouraging the gracious
influences of the Holy Spirit. 3rd. Asso-
ciate with your ideas of pleasure and amuse-
ment the joys which spring from communion
with your God. 4tb. Let a higher, a nobler
principle, actuate you in your pursuit after
happiness, than the mere gratification of
senbual desires. Many incautiou^Iy and
inadvertently throw themselves in the way
of temptation, and because they have not
grace to resist, are made easy victims of the
destroyer. 5tli. Act upon the advice given by
St. Paul to Timothy—" Flee also youthful
lusts : but follow righteousness, faith, charity,
peace, with them that call on the Lord out
of a pure heart." Lastly, if you think, with
us, that the stage exerts a baneful influence
upon society, then, in accordance with your
convictions, labour to repress it.
" I venerate the man whose heart is warm,
Whose bands are pure, whose doctrine and whose
life
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof
That he is honest in the sacred cause."
J. E. P.
:^^liiiii5D|iliii.
IS HOMCEOPATHT TRUE IN PRINCIPLE AND BENEFICIAL IN PRACTICE ?
AFFIRMATIVE KEPLY.
Ht ■ttentien had been drawn to the
■tiefai which have appeared in the British
Cmtroverdalut on this subject, and I have
ha at the psios of labouring through four
■yiin tftides, in the hope of finding some-
ttaf aora than words.
Bsw sadly have I been disappointed !
Ihi htm led to anticipate that those who
U write oo the adverse side would at
be OMa of ordinaiy attainment in the
n WiHff of physical science, and
te thtnfbre W9 Aadld be exempt from
dealing with propositicms at variance with
OMxriained physical principles; whilst the
simple enunciation of certain definite ex-
pressions would at all events be understood
in the sense in which they are generally re-
' ceived and understood in all scientific schools.
But this expectation was wretchedly dis-
' polled by the two articles of " Vinclum," by
'. that of L. G. G., and by that bearing the
' appropriate subscription of A. S.
' Voltaire used to say, ** Before all things,
I gentlemen, if we are to argue, let us define
176 IS nOM<EOPATHY TBUE IN miNCIPLE AXD BEKEFIClAli ISC PRACTICE?
understand, and acknowledge curtain tenns
in certain senses: — a precaution whicb," he
added, " is the more especially necessary
when we have to argae vriHi those who use
terms ^^-ithont meaning,** Now, after the
len^hy discussion to which the present pro-
position has given rise, we arc precisely in
the dilemma which Voltaire would have
obviated. We are engaged in nothing more
nor less than a cavil about words, or in a
dispute, to say the least of it, in which the
interpretation of words is a very essential
and very stupid ingredient. " Vinclum," in
his first article, starts with a misinterpre-
tation on one essential term, and continues
his misconstruction of another term iu the
second article, which he might have spared
himself the trouble of writing, had he begun
by understanding what he had to write about.
Nothiui? is easier than for any man to put
forward the most ridiculous proposition in
the world, and then to palm it off as mine,
and liin<2:h at me for my pains, whilst he
plumes himself upon dispersing to the winds
a dogma which has no eicistcnce except in
his own misunderstanding. It is clear that
such an imputation of doctrine does not
make the opinion thus easily refuted the
dogma which / really advocate.
Hear " Vinclum ": — " The cn'ionsm, 5*-
viUia similibm curxntur [which, by the way,
should be curnj^tw^^ is the basis of the
whole fabric. ' Like cures like,* explains
the anomalies in the action of complex me-
dicaments, no less than in the use of the
siraplir therapeutic agents: to reduce a ple-
thoric constitution^ prescribe rich viands, and
plenty of them ; to cure the dropsy, droum
your patient with water ! These arc ob-
viously fair deductions," &c. &c.
In the first place, the veriest tyro in Latin
and Greek grammar would be able to inform
you that o^qiqq does not mean the sanie,
but similar, and that AomcEopathy, according
to its etymology, would be applied to a
method of treatment which employed not the
actual agents inducing natural disease, but
agonts capable of inducing similar morbid
maiiifchtations (even without an identical
pathological state, as revealed by morbid
anatomy). He would also be able to afford
you as etymological a constnicticn of the
terms " similia similibusJ' As an illustra-
tion of the difficulties and perplexities in-
duced by such confusion of terms, I may
remind the classical and historical "Vin-
clum" of the Arian controversy, which
turned entirely upon the. single syllabic
difference in this very adjective, ofioiog : — Uie
one sect persisting in the term ofiwovvioQ,
as applied to the incarnation; the other as
steadfastly adhering to the word u/iofiu-
dvaioQ.
In the second place, a less learned mves-
tigator than ^ Vinclum*' would have been
able to ascertain that a *^ plethoric condition^
is neither necessarily, nor even frequently,
induced by " rich viands," nor dropsy by
drowning, or by external saturation -with
water in any shape, unless such external
saturation should operate in the same method
as a draught of cold air, &c., upon a heated
body, in repelling perspiration.
In the third place, it does not seem to
strike our learned physiologist, how greatly
his viand cure, as imputed to us, is at
variance with the taunt fulminated by one
of his colleagues, that tlie " rationale of oar
treatment consists in strict dietary regu-
lations." And these are all palpable incon-
sistencies, which should hnve been sift«>d
from the confused ideas of our disputAiit^
before they ventured to commit thoughts to
paper, in registration of the very muddy
condition of tlieir reflective faculties.
Another gross misconstruction of terms
occurs in the second article which *^ \'in-
clum" has issued to the world iu tho tir^t
fiusli of pride which plumed itsehf of author^
ship. Hero he falls foul of the term " jy,, ^
cijics," and with his co-disputant, A.S., iiwi
off, in a fit of transient triumph, to sce>k fin
the meaning of the word in the advertise
mcnts of Professor HoUoway, the Hygeiat
Widow Welch, Parr, and others.
Now, all this is by the question ; becau^i
the word certainly means somcthins; cieii
nitc, however it may have been hackneyoi]
and the very hackneyed use of it woul
imply that it should convey some sense <
positive capacity to cure.
A specific remedy as regards any pai
ticnlar disease, is clearly one (and tlicrc ai
such, as is well known) which possesses tl
property of acting in the animal econoni
directly to the seat of organic lesion, so t
to displace or extirpate the origo morhi.
Associated with this term specific, eomi
another, which is applied by " Vinclum" ai
his colleagnea with equal lack of discrin:
» HOXOSOPATIIT TRCK IN PniXCIPLK AND UKNEFiriAT. IS PRACTICE? 177
DfclitHi an-J no less cont*ii»ion of nieiiiiiiiir, — it
tsth^ term qnacWfyy'wh'ich it i« fashionable
ia oertain <[UArter8 to fulminate as a fum-
mary rtfuiatitm of Homay>p;ithic veritr.
With duo sabraission to '* Vincliim,"
L G. G., «n4l A. S., thercfinv, I woul»l also
come to a dftinite underHtandiiif^ as to the
QKaaiDj; r^ this t^rm, ami I humbly conceive
tbat the word qiuichery mvLj be appropriately
applied to the following therapeutic methods,
Ti.:.' —
1. The employment of a medicine which
is really spei'itic to some phases of the dis-
ease aguinst which it is employed, but
n'c&ottt a knowledge of the rationale of its
opentfum, and consequfntly without any
detiiutu i4<*a of the means of accommodatini^
its apiilication to the variable conditions of
idiosTncruy, com>titution, temperament, a^e. |
KX, ikc^ &c.
2. The employment of a dm?, whether
ically specific, against any particular morbid
(wlition or not, as a general tfterapeutic
ffoU CHfaiwtt all varieties of dineoMj as in
fiov the case irith the pupular application of
^niiiMn.
3. The employment of one or of many
^irs pramiscuoosly, simply npon precedent,
titivMf any idea of the ahutnict properties
ffwch drug or drugs as respects the animal
•cowMny, and notably the nte of pur^ativef),
tSKDCDiffoiEra*^, diaphoretics, astringents,
tw;j, &c., &c. ; and the employment of com-
pmdeU medicines, in which an indefinite
Umber of dmj^ are comminfrled to regnlatc
•e aaother's operation — as is the ca>e with
^ method of prescribinfi; adhered to by
tb dcminant or Allax)pathic school of me-
iidae.
4. An interpretation which oni;hi not to
Ik idirassible amon^isi medical men in the
*dTUKcd tla^e of our physiological, aiia-
tnieil, and pathological knowled;;e, but
*Ueh is nerertbeless too generally to be
ikladed, viz., the attempt to treat disease
•itk any therapentic a^rent whatever, with-
-it any safRcient knowled<re of the physicul
wmuM, which are indb-pensable to the tme
Aihuttins: these to be tme interpretations
^ tbt trrm quaehery, Hahnemann and
B««opithy must be exempted from the
■VMHiaB which it conreys; for neither did
^Himiin pranmlgmte, promote, or practise,
^uj «f tiM iMthoili which I have de^'cribed,
nor d(K'S lIonrHTeopatliy, properly so called,
acknowle<l;;e either.
The fin»t great aim •)f TIdhnemann in his
8elf-dcvote<l career of medical reform was to
obtain, by fiatient, persevering^ research, an
exact knowledge of the essential property of
each dmg, before he veiitnre<l to employ it
in the treatment of riiseaiie. His Icaminir
and assiduity, hononrably acknowledged by
ev*>ry contemporary whose repiitation gave
weight to his opinion, and his uncompro-
mising purity of character, sufficiently attest
the tnithfuliie»is of so much as he has re-
conle-l of his lal)ours. Nmie of the great
parh'^lo«;i^ts of his time have venturctl to
gainsay what he alleged; and Hufeland him-
self paid an honourable tribute of acknow-
ledgment to some of his important dis-
coverit's. As a physinlogist, he was known
to be inferior to no member of the profession
at the period in which he flourished ; to his
chemical researches, Liebig and our own
distinguished chemihts are indebted for valu-
able information; his pathological knowledge
obtained for him the most resj.ectful atten-
tion; and as an investigator of disease he
was known for his patimt and careful diag-
nosis;—and in fa<*t in no branch of physical
science was he wanting.
On the other hanil. the very uncertainty
and gnesi-work treatment which '* Vinclum"
and his friends would bid us respect and
pursue, falls witheringly under the third
denomination of qituckery which I have par-
ticularized; whilst the enormous abuse of
mercurials, which had become thedestnictivo
fashion of medicine until Liston expt)se<l
its dangerous fallacies, is as seriously subject
to the frst denomination of quackery above
mentioned.
Next, let us quit the war of words for a
few minutes, and exHmine one or two other
particulars, which are salient as absurdities
palpable to the meanest intelligence, in the
mis-named reasoning of our friend "Vin-
clum." For lack of any originality of thought,
poor man ! he is driven to borrow ridicule at
second hand, of that universal literary aiMl
scientitic borrower and begp^ar. Dr. Pereirn.
Now, to say nothing of the matter^ I might
have wished that he had borrowed at least
of one whose otcn investigation was a matter
of reconl. Uut what does he do ? Ho
plunges into the labyrinth of clashing opin-
ion accumulated in Dr. Pereira'a " ^\Q\i:t\m
178 IS HOJKEOrATHY TRUE IX PRIXCirLE AND BEXEFICIAL IN PRACTICE?
Medica," and like the plum extorted by the
inr^t-nious '* Little Jack Horner," he dips up
the worthy compilers collectanea respect injj
" vegeUthle charcoal," and lavishes vapid
satire on Hahnemann for having taken the
pains of devoting " forty-five octavo pages
to the effects of carlo h'ffni*^ which he,
" Vinclum," sternly maintains, with the in-
fallible authority to whose scissors-aud-paste-
pot labour ho is indebted for his information,
is an " iiiei't subAtance" Ay, and the joke
docs not end here, for " Vindum'' not only
borrows the iufonnation, but the very same
vein of abuse, in crying shame on Hahne-
mann for recording, what to our critic's too
sensitive ancl delicate notions is "Jiltln/ and
obscene." Poor, pitiful creatures ! Verily
ye must have .spent a great deal of time in
the branch of your medical education with-
out which you are good for nothing — the
dissecting-room, to wit — that ye have grown
so lady-like in your ideas of what a ]ihy-
sician should record of the symptom.s of
disease, and of what he should suj>f tress, for-
sooth, as ^''Jilihy and obscene /" Why,
" Vmclum," you must have a rare hand to
soil wlion some \fOor creature requires the
use of the Rcalpel and its accessories.
But to the i^urj^se. You alletft that vege-
table charcoal is an ^^ inert substance" but
can you assign any physical reason why it
should be so ? Is there any chemical or
physiological impediment in the way which
should prevent its producing certain abnor-
mal conditions, as jwsitively as mercury,
iodine, colocynth, henbane, &c ? You hear
that some one gave a dog a given quantity
of crude charcoal, and that it i)a8sed through
the unimal without any trace of alteration or
decomposition whatever. And you are satis-
fied with this simple, ingenuous statement;
you inquire no further, but record the sub-
stance in voiu" memorv forth^nth as inert.
But although you perceive no reason for
further inquiry, Hahnemann did' not; and
although he did not record the reason to
which he attributed the action of vegetable
charcoaly under certain circumstances of
previous moniitnlation, there is a reasonable
hypothesis which I may venture to adduce
on this subject. I only say ht/pothesis, for
the reason is nothing more, whereas the
actiuil fact of certain effects being produced
is beyond a doubt — it is positively known.
And my Jj^pothesis as to the reason is this:
We have found that vegetable charcoal,
compounds of silicon, compounds of lime and
other substances, which resist the action of
any chemical agency in the stomach, or, in
other words, which are incapable of decom-
position or solution in the juices of that
organ, are inert in their crude strife, simply
because they arc not subject to digestion,
assimilation, or absorption, and that therefore
tbey cannot oiierate (except as mechanical
and local irritants) upon any organic tissue.
Now this is the position maintained by the
AlUwpathic authorities on '* Materia Medica,*'
and in this so far wo precisely coincide. But
we go further ; we seek fur means of render-
ing these substances capable of absoqition;
we comminute them by mechanical means,
until after a given degree of reduction we
fmd defmite and invariable effects produced
upon the healthy organbiui; and my b}*po-
thesis is to the effect, that the absence of
ert'cct produced by the crude material is at-
tributable simply to its incapability of solu-
tion, or decomposition, and thereby of actinfj
upon any vitalized tissue so as to disnub
the atomic arrangement; whereas the decided
effect resulting from its comminution arises
from its having been rendered callable of
introiiuctiou into the various arrangements
of imjx)rtant tissues, so as to induce atomic
disturbance therein. And this liypotbesis
will be found to coincide with the facts
ascertained in physiological anatomy, and
with the known construction of the various
tissues, as well as the proverbial slendemeis
of offiniiy which injluences the molectJtar
arrangement of all organic structures.
A tew words more. As regards the vitu-
perative designations or coarse ridicule
contained in the adverse articles of l^Iessrs.
" Vinclum," L. G. G., and A. S., as in-
stnnced in the lavish use of terms such as
"fools," *' frauds," "impostures," and the
like, with which they teem, I ni'cd only
observe that they are beneath the notice ii
men of science; and one /^rtm^^cie evidence
of the lack of scientific attainment possessed
by our opponents in this discussion, to ny
mind, was the profuse aggregation of expres-
sions such OS these. Indeed, it was with
some reluctance that I joined in the discus-
sion on that account.
As respects the challenge ungtuu'dedlT
repeated by L. G. G., at page 60, that w;
should at once proceed to operate with <mr
18 HOMOEOPATHY TRUE IX PRINCIPLE AND BENEFICIAL IN PRACTICE? 179
dniL'^ npon fifltj sound individualSf I have
but orte remark to offer, and it is this: — that
in the first place we are fully propait'd, in
ar.T place and at any tinie, to accept the
chkllr-n^o, the experiment Ik'ing con<lucted
in the presence or with the cognisance of an
iniportial and Iiooourable committee ; hut
that it is nat for us to select the patients,
bat {or the challengers to do so, lest we hicur
the rl&k of heing assailed in success with
m^eudoes offensive to our honour. And at
the same time it should be reserved that
tluie who become patients in sucli an expe-
rinient, exonerate us fully and freely from
th« consequeoass, as tliese would not bo of
t*a«! pleuaotest character.
Tbrre do not appear to be any other ob-
jectioos raided in tlie negative articles which
sre varthT of notice; but as I commenced
by dispotin;:^ the interpretation of Homoe-
opathic doctrine as put forward by "Vin-
Umn," I feel almost called upon briefly to
ripeat the real construction which it bears.
Fir$tj then, it seeks the minutest evidence
of disease, and makes the most accurate
dbterrtitloa of symptoms.
SecoHdbff it looks for a medicine whose
ueertjdQKi action npon the healthy organism
jieUs evidences as nearly analogous to the
Ruptoms of disease observed as i)ossiblc.
iJr if oof single mcdicino does not meet all
t!te features of the case, it chooses that^V«/
vhtdl embraces the most important morbid
aaidfestations, and allows that medicine to
curt its action tmdisturbedj until from the
»htide»ee of this most important indication,
KBx Other Jealure becomes predominant,
*1kii it proceeds in like manner with that —
sad so on until the cure is complete.
Thirdly, and necessarily consequent upon
the Kcocd principle of the method, it em-
pkji oolj one unmixed drug at a time; it
iMcr mixes scTersl drugs together, because
tbcR is DO means of ascertaining the din>c-
tisaof a oomplez action set up in theorgan-
isKL The drag an[^oyed may be a dtemi-
^'^ compoond or simple body: — because
cmeo/ combination only produces a differ-
o< mnfie and not a complex physiological
tfcet
FtmlUjf, it acts duectly to the part or
>pa in the economy whicli is especially
*ficttd, becanso that ia the direct way to
«fe, nipid, and perfect radical care, and
accurate incarcb in the proper effect
of each medicine has definitely ascertained
the organ or part especially controlled by
each drug in the Honiocjiathic Materia
Medica.
Tfie fundamental principle, which is now
acknowledged as supreme in every bnmcli
of physical science, is, that the primary
action produced by any disturbing agent is
only transient^ whereas its secondary action
is permanent; and that as disease consists in
the obstruction of some functional process
(whether from relaxfUion or excessive tension
of the structure upon which such function
depends), the true method of restoring the
equilibrium is momentarily and very slightly
to operate in the same direction, so that
energy be artificially conveyed to the system
to overcome such obstruction. But this
fundamental principle also involves-^
A secondary question — which is, to avoid
an excessive aggravation of the disease, lest
serious results accrue before the functional »
and vital reaction has taken place; and in
this secondary question in-finit^imal physic
is necessarily implicated; so that in reality
the method of practical application, to which
the doctrine of analogies is inevitably sub-
ject, and which is the chief source of ridicule,
is in reality the simplest and most palpable
part of the business.
When we speak of a medicine being spc-
cijic to the disease, we simply mean (and I
really think a child would understand it so)
that it has the property of producing an
assemblage qfmorhid evidetices exactly anal-
ogous to all those of the case under treat-
ment, and that moreover we also know that
it operates directly, and with especial energy,
upon the actual organ, which is the seat of
the oiigo morhi. See ** Vinclum's " account
of Iloma*opathic dogmata, and they would
seem as childish and ridiculous as he wishes
his readers to believe they really are, and
taking such an account to be the true, it
might verily bo alleged that all who practise
after this fashion had flung aside as useless
the physiological, anatomical, chemical, and
pathological knowledge acquired with vast
labour in the schools; but 1 ask any reason-
able and impartial man of real scientific
attainment, if, when put in its true light,
the doctrine which I have been advocating,
far from being at variance with physiological
anatomy and other branches of physical
science, is not corroborated and coofGrmed m
180 IS HOMCEOPATHY TRCE IK PKIKCIPf JE AND BE2CEnClAI< IK PRACTICE ?
the most clear and positive manner ? It is its merits^ associated witli all the physical
mj own opinion that Homoeoptithy rests upon sciences. Edward Gibbok Swa5N.
NEGATIVE REPLY.
Thb qnestion inyoWed in the discnssion
on Homoeop^tthj, which has been sufficiently
extended to give the general reader a fair
idea of the value of the arguments adduced
on both sides, embraces two heads — a the-
oretical and a practical one. Anything
which may bare come from our pen has
always been written with a view to exhibit,
in their true light, not only the reasonings
upon which this so-called science is estab-
lished, but also to e>timate the practical
value of its therapeutic agents: wo have
endeavoured, as much as in us lay, to avoid
the extremes into which our adversaries
have too often fallen— of exalting either at
the expense of the other, from a conviction
that imperfection in theory must necessarily
react injuriously upon the working out of
any idea.
It is not fair, then, to object to any argu-
ments which may be brought against the
system, on the ground that actual experi-
ment is the only way in which its claims
can be tested, especially since, were results
of this description wanting, which assuredly
they are not, the very nature of the investi-
gation, if logically conducted, cannot but
lead us to the conclusion, that if Homoeop-
athy be not true in principle it cannot be
beneficial in practice, or rice verscL If, then,
we have been successful in proving that the
hypotheses upon which globulism is based
are not consonant with the established laws
of medicine, or with the experience of the
members of that faculty, our position is
maintained ; nor do we hold ourselves neces-
sarily bound to substantiate the latter portion
of the question. But as it is possible that
an exception may be taken to this mode of
arguing, in giving a brief resvmS of the
facts of the case as they may be elicited
from the various papers of our allies or our
opponents, we will endeavour to show that
Homoeopathy has failed as signally when
subjected to the erperimenium crvciSj a«
when tested by the equally searching laws
of reason.
We shall not greatly err in looking to the
motto of Hahnemann, '^Similia similibus
emxuttur" for an explanation of the prin
ciples on which the Homoeopaths vindicate
their treatment: that this is a fiillacy we
have already shown, when applied univer-
sally as a panacea for every species of disease ;
the only grounds for the statement being the
action of certain drugs upon the constitution,
and of certain physical ngents upon the
nervous system, which are really subjects
upon which our knowledge is, to say the
least, very limited. We have eflects \»re-
sented to our view, we have the agents
which caused those effects in our own poArcr,
but to trace the connexion between the twc
is mors than we are able; the existing stat<
of science does not permit us to supply th<
connecting links in the chain of inductive
argument from what we do see to what w
do not see.
It shows a deficiency of logical acumon
to say nothing of actual ignorance of th
but partial truth of this law, to constra
hypothesis upon such a narrow basis, muc!
more an amount of moral culpability whic
we will not estimate, when t his faypothp«>:
is blazoned about, and placarded in gigant!
posters, in spite of all actual evidence to tl
contrary, and notwithstanding the notab
false conclubions to which theoreticaUy al
practically it leads.
The question of specifics brought forwa
by G. v., betrays so egregious a defitien
of acquaintance with the commonest la*
of medical science, that we will not aga
revert to it, but merely hint, tlmt if 1
advocates of globulism have really relapf
^o far into the dark ages as to sanction sti
absurdities as this, they etfectually excAi
themselves from any sympathy in tli
views and conduct which we might i
inclined to afford men who erred on a si
ject which presented some reasonable grou
for differences of opinion, and they w
look' in that case for such treatment onli
those in the rear of the great Intel letM
march can expect from their more ail van
comrades — to be driven on with alxml
gentle means as the whipper-in of the 1
sian army was wont to employ when
urged on the laggards by tiie use of
lasb.
k
IS HOM^KOPATIIY TRUE IN PIUNCirLK AXD BEVEKIOIAL IN IMlACTRi:? ISl
Put our opponents always sljirk arjrauioiit
as to tht; reasoiLiblone&s of their ideas; they
iVl ihcir weakness on this point, and fly to
th^ rnnitant resource of the defeated : " Just
try ii yoariclves," say they to the credulous
yciUic; ''never mind what an interested
frnf-Ksi-m may say; suppose our hypotheses
tr? incorrect, wc can appeal to the soundness
of oar facts." We, too, can ap{)eal, but not
to the ueaerality of mankind, wiio are unable
to jad;^ cf the value of curen, from their
iinuHance of the nature of the extent to
vaicli thnse cures are eiTected, and of the
artjoa rrf" the means employed. ^Ye apf>eal
ivaa. Philip in the dark to I'liilip in the
lipV.t— <ducatel and capable of conviction —
to tbe properly constituted tribunals from
viiieb alone decisions on the pmnt at issue
an to be tnuted; to men who have made
t^ie sriroce involved the study of their lives,
&nj who are fully qualified in every respect
tD test the comparative merits of the two
ly^tWM. " We appeal," to paro<ly the words
oft|rreat political chief, ^* to God and our
prafea^on.'* and bj theu* decision will we
We can, then, satisfactorily unveil the
diplicity of men who ignore " the <i priori
tbnrdity of the system,'* and we shall then
^ lUe to show that *' its practically bene*
2dal charBCter is not susceptible of proof."
What shall we say of the unblushinc:
efiwrtery with which they* faltify their
flftittiegf and introduce into their hospital
Imports, nnder the high-sounding names of
f^taiatff'a and odontalgia^ those terrific
■Setkns, kejadache and toothache !
Hut we not come to the conclusion that
ftne is In **the lowest depths a deeper still"
"-tint men who violate so systematically the
hviff rectitude are not worthy of the con-
idcDee which we are accustomed to repose
is those who have the care of our nearest
■4 dearest interests, the lives and health
if oondvet, oar wires, and our children ?
fsr it is to a question of ethics that they
kit vltlmatelj redooed the discussion, and
^ Hear not to take up the cudgels on this
Mat also. Hlien worsted on the practical
vte «f their theory, they resort to the stale
ofcditBt of ayinf^ ** stinking fish," and plead
theeaadtatkNul peculation of the legitimate
* FUr an Mm capfatarton of the fallacies of
If, bf Dr. BoBih.
fjons ('f moilieine a> an excuse for the re-
oru'aniz.-ition of tiie profeftisi-m. We prove
that their hypotheses are false, and we arc
told that the public are s^vindled out of tlicir
money; we deinonstr.it e the fallacy of their
ar;:unients and the failure of cxjH'riuiental
evidence, and we are instantly crieil up as
l>erseeutors, and are }»reachcd to by these
would-be Jenncrs ami Galileos, as if we
treated them with the merciless riirour of
the inquisition.
Wo have seen, then, that upon no unvary-
in^:; law of nature, uj/on no anaIo;!y of the-
nipeutic agents, and upon no satisfactory
theoretical reasons, can Ilomceopathy claim
our suffrages as 'true in principle:" that
it is neither directly nor indirectly " beneficial
in practice" we have also shown; it has
been tested by the expt»rience of its prose-
lytes, and we find it impossible to depend
uix>n their best evidence — by its opponents,
and they have uniformly found it to fail.
The very assertion, " that in no Ciise can it
do harm,'* is sufHeient of itself to damn it ;
for is it possible that medicines which pos-
sess the slightest eflieaty when rightly ad-
ministered, could under totally different cir-
cumstances, andwhcn inj ndiciously prescribed,
be entirely inert? It is, in fact, attribnting
an inherent power of change to the different
agents themselves; whereas wc know full
Well that the varied action of any 8inc;le
medicament depends upon the nature of the
organism to which it is applied, and that it
is constantly evident that what is one man s
death is another's cure.
We cannot, then, but come to the con-
clusion, that Homoeopathy is either the result
of ignorance or the work of duplicity ; cha-
rity bids us suppose the fonner, but not-
withstan<ling we cannot ac]nit many of its
advocates of intentional collusion: to our
readers we leave it, with the firm conviction
that at no distant period it will have ceased
to exist except in the brains of those unhappy
individuals who seem to have realized iii
these modem times the character which
Demosthenes gave the Athenians of old, and
which was subseijuently reiterated by St Luke,
who iiQ ovliv fVipov tiVaipovy, i/ \kyuv
Ti Kai aKomiv Kuivoripov. ViscLUM.
[At tlie close of this iiitvrostiuR and important
discuMion. tie cannot but exprcHs our regret that
any peniouality should have bet-n introduced into
it. Truth is never so convincing as when calmly
stated and kindly enlbrced— £Da.'\
182
OUGHT MONEY TO BE INTRINSIC OR SY^IBOLICAL?
OUGHT MONEY TO BE IXTKIXSIC OK SYMBOLICAL ?
INTRINSIC— I.
An insight into the economy of social
nature is the snhstratom upon which all
politico-economic science must be based.
The true political economist is one who
l)08se8ses this insight in a profound degree.
No matter how near may be his point of
examination — no matter how artificial and
modem the practical operations which he
views — he is one who can trace near points
to their remote foundations, and recognise
the same elementary principles, guiding alike
the infancy and manhood of political society.
Nor can this insight fail him in a ques-
tion such OS we have at present to discuss,
liloney — the common medium of exchange
among nations — however intricate, through
commercial advancement, in its nature and
use, is yet dependent upon the same ele-
mentary laws which governed the earliest
commercial exchanges of antiquity. As of
old, nature distributes its benefits with an
unequal hand; and now, as then, nations
have their different natural productions.
Art, moreovxjr, the creature of man's own
advanced powers, has grown and produced
differently in different countries. Both nature
and art, therefore, each work unequally. But,
as of old, reciprocal wants exist. Hence
commerce, also, exists as irrevocably now
as ever; and its whole frame- work is sup-
ported by the same social necessities as
obtained at the beginning.
In thus opening the present debate, we
seek not to mystify the subject. We invoke
for ourselves and readers the primary insight
to which we have referred. If the true
political insight of such theorists as Mon-
tesquieu and Smith, or of such practicalists
as Homer and Peel, is denied us, let the
subject be approached, at least, in the retro-
spective spirit which distinguished them.
For certainly the currency question is one
that cannot be discussed either theoretically
or practically without a previous reference
to its history. And although a coincidence
of opinion may not result between all our
readers and the poiitical economists men-
tioned, whose leading financial faith, that
money might to be of intrinsic value, is our
own, — yet they cannot deny them a purer
love and nearer grasp of trath than dis-
tinguished a Law, a iSlirabeau, a Robespierre,
or an illustrious line of czars, whose finan-
cial doctrine and practice were, that money
ovght to be and must be symbolical.
But, as of first importance, let our terms
be clearly understood. Money is a sign
representative of the value of anything ven-
dible; and, therdbre, is necessarily in a
manner symbolical. But the question is-—
Ought this sign to have a marketable vaine
of its own, as gold or silver ; or ought it to
be comparatively devoid of all material valne,
as paper? Or, more comprehensively, Onght
a currency to be one of intrinsic value, or
one whose value is based on credit alone?
Now, the historical light cast upon the
question is entirely one-sided. Apart froo
an examination of principles, history points
to a unanimous and decisive affirmation of
the necessarily intrinsic worth of money.
The " iron pen of history " never wrote •
more imperious truth on the minds it to-
lightened. Commerce was no less the birth
of necessity, than equal cxcJumge was tbo
inborn commercial spirit. Anterior to tl*
institution of money, the price of one com-
modity was another of equal value. And
the adoption of a metallic currency as tht
common instmment of exchange, was owin^
to a happy combination of cenveniencc aad
intrinsic value in the materials so converted*
Thus the guiding principle of oommerdal
exchanges from antiquity has ever been \0
give value for value — not the mere nominal
valne of' symbolical mcmey for artides c^
merchandise, but th(; marketable value of
an intrinsic money common over the ooiB*'
mercial world. Of course, in the rode ill'
fancy of commerce, neither individual nor
national stability and credit were such thilr
producers could rest faithfully coQteiit6&
with slips of authorized paper-money ia
return for what had been the fniit of their
OUGHT KOXKY TO BE INTRINSIC OR SYMnOUfAL?
183
VhI and skill, and expect, too, to supply
ttiilr own wants b/ exchanging them fur
otii»-r commodities. Nor down to the pre-
sftt lime, with few exceptions, lias a sym-
Wluil currency been attempted to be insti-
tuted. And tliese few exceptions tlie world
trill not hastily forget. The "continental
Esc&j**of the American War of Indepcn-
itxi: made ruinous havoc. But the assignat^
M-i mandates of Frencli revolutionary cupi-
dity and terrorism — money truly the bymbol
Qt Dational bankruptcy and anarcliy, imd
bstniment of other than couuncrcial ex-
chaii^es — left tlie deepest and most indelible
Rccrdj!. And even in Russia, where the
cirrerKT U of all Kuropean nations at pre-
ara; tlie most symbolical, the monetary signs
iSan as little encouragement for a wide-
^retd example. Indeed, iron despotism
id symbolical money flourish best together,
tlie U:ter being the natural sequence of the
^inDer.
Bat oors is a tlieoretical discussior..
What cvffJU to be, we know, is not always
idadcal with what hfis been. Yet the true
tlM-anr of the cnrrencv can onlv be that
vludi practice lias taught us. The world's
dpenence in this question is immeasurably
before the beau idecU of cither theoretical or
(Rfueal speculators. A symbolical currency
i» jn5t such a beau ideal. It only exists in
tM impracticable minds of mere theorists,
or ia the sinister wishes of speculative ad-
votmers. Theirs is not an inductive theory;
itb baseless as to facts. While the theory
tf t symbolical currency is one anterior to
pvtice, and independent of past commercial
Hitonr, that of an intrinsic currency is pos-
toior to practice, and is the indoctrinated
xfloioQ oi the commercial spirit from its
i>c^ It is for our readers to adopt a theory
^md m pditical natturo, or one utterly
<liea thereto.
And passing from the historical part of
^ qnastioo, wo find our position none the
loi inmloerable. It is apparent that a
Qtdit-^rstem of currency would bo a prac-
tical draial, not merely that trade has its
**a natural laws, but that it ought to be
unlisted by those laws, and not by arbitrary
1^ enactments. Now, the intrinsic worth
^vaooej fiovs from a natural law of trade
'^-eqoal value for equal value; and regulated
Inr tlat bw, money b given in exchange for
MBDodititt. But thu troth b abrogated by
the institution of svnibolical money. Surelv,
no\v-a-days, the irreat fact, that the priii-
cii)le.s of commercial exclianges are irrelative
to the principles of state government, requires
no proclamation. And surely no tnith-seeker
can disbelieve, that the more trade is fre«
from state control, the greater is its certainty
of development. But what must be thought
when money is of such a natui*c. that, instead
of boin*^ of an equally universal intrinsic
vuluc, it has an miequal noiaiiial value over
the commercial world ? B:used on credit,
a symbolical money is of value i)roportionate
to the credit of issuers. Governments must
ever be the real issuers, although banking
coqwration.s may Ik? their agents and tools.
Hence, as amioaMc foreign relations wane,
the value of symbolical money must wane
also; and as open hostilities l>ctween states
arc tiedaiXMl, the banking govenunents lose
all mouetar}' transactions with their foes,
since a cessation of diplomatic relations is
little else than a declaration of want of con-
tideiu'o. And would not trade consequently
be trammelled and stinted in its develop-
ment? Why, taxes on the importation of
commodities by any government would far
less bondage trade than the origination of
an arbitrary* instniment of exclianije of no-
minal value, sul)jeet to all the fluctuations
incident on the ehb and flow of state iM.>liey
and the distnist of friends. Certainly, if
the comm.-Klity nmst have free importation,
the instnmient for which it is exehanired
ouc;ht to have a similar freedom.
lint a purely symbolic money is nowhere
unfait accompli; nor, as we liave indicated,
is it ever likely permanently to become so.
Therefore, on the advocates of a credit -
system rests the onw probandi as to the
justice of its institution.
A symbolical money, it will content ns at
present to say, if ever existent, would bo
partly, perhajw wholly, distinguished — 1,
by its arbitrarily representing saleable things;
2, by its merely nominal value; 3, by that
value being national or local ; 4, and depen-
dent on the credit of issuers; 5, by its fluc-
tuating with the rise and fall of things
represented; 6, by its too direct influence
(proportionate to the confidence or distnist
in government or corporational credit) in
niising and depressing the springs of pro-
duction; 7, bjr its being an investiture of
most d&^potic power in governmetvla cat wjt-
184
OUOllT MOXKY TO BE INTIIINSIC OR SYMBOLICAL?
porations, by which public interest mi;:ht
be eacrificed eitlier to political ambition or
corporational grec«l.
We think our Headers, without mucli
difficulty, will now admit, that the first
essential quality of a circulating medium
must be an intrinsic marketable value. But
they must not hence snjjpo.^o that they are
thua pledged against the use of a paper
money, having apj'urcntly no such value.
On the contrary, a pn per currency is a useful
auxiliary to a metallic currency. A paf»er
money is the consequence of multiplicity
of metallic money. It is because of its con-
venience as to transportable facility, its
economy in preventing the wasting of coin
by use, and in lessening the heavy expense
of a great metallic circulation, that an aux-
iliary paper currency i» allowed. As coins
are the representatives of mercantile com-
modities, so notes arc the representatives of
coins ; and a^ metallic money is a permanent
representative of the value of those com-
modities, 80 a paper money is the temporary
representative of the value of metallic money.
But when once symbolical money exceeds in
nominal value intrinsic money, the public are
defrauded, while the banking corporations
are enriched. Paj)er money deteriorates,
or if credit is great, coin rises exurbitautly
in value. To this fact is owing the immense
control acquired by government in regulating
hanking privileges, and their influence over
the money market, not merely in controlling
paper issues, but also in manufacturing pro-
missory notes on the security of their credit,
which have rarely, if ever, been redeemed.
Hence ari^te bubbles, money panics, and
national insolvency — the result of a dis-
obedience to the law, that money most have
an intrinsic marketable value. If these eviU
flow from a symbolical money on a small scale,
how much more would they exist under an
unlimited system of symbolical currency?
But we have entered far enough, at pre-
sent, into the question, and will at once
conclude, by predicting that the result of
the present discussion will be an agreement
between most of our readers and Baron
Montesquieu, in the unbiassed opinion, that
'* the state is in a pros})erous condition vrhen,
on the one hand, money perfectly represents
all things: and, on the other, all things per-
fectly represent money, aiid are reciprocally
the signs of each other — that is, they have
such a relative value that we may have the
one as soon as we may have the other."*
K. L. G.
• (•
Esprit dc Lob," book xxii. chap. S.
SYMBOLICAL.— I.
The great difficulty of modem states-
manship is, to reconcile the rights of labour
with the righta of property, and every legis-
lative effort to solve the political and social
problem has hitherto proved unsuccessful.
The failure seems to have arisen from be-
stowing undivided attention on matters of
detail, while great }>rinciples have been
neglected. liemedial measures have skimmed
over the surface of the troubled waters, but
the plummet of reform has not yet sounded
their depths. The hours of labour have
been restricted, without going into the ques-
tion, *' Why cannot labour dictate terms to
capital, instead of capital to labour ? "
Emigration has been systematized and en-
couraged, without opening the question,
"Why do Englishmen and Irishmen leave
their native country by hundreds of thousands
every year ? " Sometimes distressed needle-
women rouse the sympathies of the nation ;
ilien the tailors, then jourueymen bakers,
then workers in mines, then govemeaieSf
then chimney-sweeps; but the law of cheap
labour, which manifests itself in these variotil
shapes, is not boldly met and discussed.
Free trade was the last experiment; but fur
so energetic and revolutionary a measure to
bear such small and qurationable fmita, in-
dicates that the root of political evil is not
yet touched. Free trade has shown itself to
be an imperfect measure, from its mixed
operation of good to some interests, and evil
to others; from its injurious eflect on the
cultivators of the soil, its utter abn€{fati<m of
the colonial system, and from its unscni-
pulous disregard of a great principle^ that
tojcation must he added to price. An intel*
ligent body are advocating education, bnt
these well-intentioned men would find br
experience that a preriotu question moat bo
settled before education can bear iU» propcf
fruita, viz., the condition ofEnglai^ tpteHkmf
or the qvettion ofemphymtaUfor the peqpit.
OUGHT MONEY TO BE IXTHIXSH.' OR SYMBOLICAL ?
185
Hie emplayment of all ! Why u nnt
'TOT man cmploTcd ? Hecaase the supply
(tf li^jour is ^n^ater than the demand. Why
is the supply {greater than the demand ? A
hofidred answers iireiknt themselves to the
mitcU «if yoar various readers. I would
inswer it at once, and boldly — bocauKe thrre
is a want ai rn'juey; U-oause this nation
bis iT>anelr tied duwn iUimitaUe production
to Jipiittd vu'hey, instead of allowing money
to Wp patt? and ex^iand with production.
Wc havo maJc p"»i<l, a scarce metal (the
bppy cr.ns:e«jucnces to ari.<i* from its recent
aliiMtet mirjcnlous jilenty will be touched on
bwrjficr), our nituicy ; and money being Iffffil
iflnder. tli;it i.s, the ouly instrument which
the law rpco^iAcs as a Ic^ral discharge of
dtbts iixcs, and wn^res, and all ])roduction
bco* ri.solvabi<» into this money, such produc-
*Joo is (hrarjerl and arrested by money's
cQEDpantive scarciiy : for 1 lay it down as an
ttiom, that m:ich ]>ro(!Riction, or many com-
Bodities and little money, is cheapness, and
AeipofM is unremunemtire price; and nn-
rTUtmerative pricois dq>ressed trade, la n;;uid
JwBand. and intermittent emplormcnt of
-aUmr, Cheap commodities menu dear
iBowy: cheap money means dear commo-
iitiw. I adrocate cheap money: I wish to
«e commodities dear. Ciold is a dear
^MKij: to it I trace all onr commercial evils.
I Wftuiii abolish gold money, which is money
'fattrixsic value, and would substitute paper
SMWT. which is cheap money, and for the
Wlo»iu;» reaKons: — B<H?au6e money is in its
^nature representative, aa a bill of lading
>■ Rjnsentativi' of a cargo. Any man
^oUin; a bill of lading, thongh only a piece
rf psprr, is deemed to be the owner of the
<*lp worth thousands, rejirescntatire, like
Ae penny pmtacc Mamp, wliicli in itself,
t^Rfh not trurth the hundre<lth part of a
^ntinj^ is nevertheless repreicntatire of
^ potent iahty of carrying a letter from
"^f*r to Galwar, and would be taken by any
*• is the representative of the copper pnny.
I^ me dissipate an erroneous idea which
F*TMks the minds of all those who liave
M pud attention to this subject, A bill of
'ickssge is not money ; it is only a promise
^ J«y mooej: and in times of /)a»/c— the
^ihiioiie of our system — is convertible
^ bto foU, or its certificate, Bank of
^^Ind paper. Panic means this — that
■•Mu* «f MM Swxr hundred millions of
I bills of exchange go for gold, and the gold
I nat beine iu existence, ]>urhai»» having gone
I into a foreign country through the ojKTHtion
j of the exchanges, the holders have to submit
to enormous sacnHce^it, whirh means, they
have to pay high premiums on gold, which
means a )ih/U rate of discount, i hat money
should be sf/mbolicalt ond not have intrinsic
value, 1 will attem]>t to prove by another
argument : and here let me say, tiiat if we
• are to makt* u commodity into mouty, no
' connnodity is so convenient a.s gold : but my
! argument is, that wo conunodity can make a
money; for money is mcn»ly a shadoic, and
: should increaiJc with production aud disap-
jKjar with cousnmjtion. As swn a*? a jwir
of boots are made, the money ^huuld conic into
existence; as so(»n as the boots arc sold, the
money should disapiK*ar. To make this
a>scrlion goal will require another jiaper,
I and I wihh it to go for no more tlun an
assertion at present. But my argument is
this: — If a commodity can make a money,
then gold, being the most convenient, can
make a money, and we then insist that the
bullionists carry out their principle and give
ns a ffold money — a money of gold (allowing
silver as small change), and nothing but
cold. Don't eke out your system by resort-
ing to one sytnbolic money. Gold, gold,
nothing but gold. If a merchant has a
, thousand pounds to receive, let one of his
■ clerks follow him with a wheelbarmw; let
every man see that his pocket is well sewed;
let your leather bags be ca])acious ; let the
worship of ilammon be bincerc and undi-
' vided. Do not recognise ilimsies, j*ut away far
" fmni you dirty rags. Above all, the Jonrteen
, millions of debt which the nation owes to
the Bank of England, and which is issued
as paper money^ without any btise of yoldj
must be withdrawn, and let the panic Cf>me
j on. If your principles be sound, adhere to
j them, and never fear the consequences.
Another argument against gold money is
this — and if I make my case good against
goldj I make it g»>od against all intrinsically
: valuable money, because gold is the best of
commodities, it' we are to have a commodity
— namely, that the proi>er weight of a
sovereign is 5 dwt. 3 grs., and that sove-
reigns are coined to that weight and no
more. But, unfortunately, if the sovereign,
in being transferred from one bag to another,
from one pocket to another, from the o^nr
186
WOULD COMMUKISX PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OP MAN?
tiona of the sweater — who is as naturalljr
the product of gold monej as Termin is of
£ith — from the ahrasion of one coin against
another; I saj, if the soTereisrn loses one
thousandth part of a grain, it is not longer
legal tender; the government refuses it for
taxes, the banker throws it back to jou,
with a sapercilions air, orer the counter, and
you find yourself with a piece of bullion cer-
tainly, (and what is the value of bullion now,
after Califomian and Australian discoveries !)
but without money. Tour only alternative
is to take your jueoe of bullion, which was
only coined last week, and with it go to the
cambist and pay him a heavy per oentage
to find you a coin of the proper weight.
If a thing is wrong in principle^ it is
wrong in all its details. There is not a
detail in gold money which is not objection-
able. J. H.
Intinl (!5rnnnrat[*
AVOULD COiniUNISM PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAX ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— V.
'* Homo " tells us that wealth is being
monopolized by the few, and that the labour-
ing classes, from unprecedented hardships,
caused by the introduction of machinery,
are sinking in the scale of social being. We
wonder ^ Homo" should have propounded
two such heresies, contradicted alike by his-
tory and individual experience. Competition
is opposed to monopolies of every kind; this
is its prime recommendation. The guilds and
corporations by which monopoly sought to
perpetuate its existence are yielding to com-
petitive influences; and our working men, so
far from degenerating, are earning for them^
selves niches in " Fame*s proud temple."
Surely evils enough exist in society without
resorting to fictitious ones to swell the
amount.
From "The Age and its Architects,"
" Homo" quotes a very forcible statement of
evils, which partially, at least, do exist in
society; even in that statement, however,
co-existents and consequents are confounded.
It cannot, for instance, be proved that the
two million paupers, criminids, and vagrants,
are chargeable to the influence of competi-
tion. The evils which are attributable to
that cause are the pnrchase-priee of our
advancement; and we hesitate not to say,
that nthcr than endure the sluggishness to
which Communism would reduce us, we
would infinitely prefer the present state.
What> after all, but competition, could have
brought our mechanic'arts, our manufac-
tures, and, above all, our literature, to their
present enviable condition ? It is an every- '
day observation, thaf rivalry draws out the
latent energies of the mind ; but by removing^
this, the Communists would remove the verv
element which has contributed so signally to
liberalize the intellect, and would render the
community a realized Castle of Indolence.
"Homo" would have done more eminent
service to his cause had he devoted himself
to a refutation of our statement relative to
man's attachment to private property, than
by asking whether a mere attachment con>
ferred a claim to possession. Wc think the
inference was plain, that where all manifest
attachment to private property, all, when
they have a choice, will adopt it. This
inborn attachment to private property must
render nugatory every attempt to establish
universal Communism; handfuls of men,
moved by the same impulses, and actuated
by the same principles, may agree to sacritxce
that inborn attachment for a greater good,
and may establish small communitieB, but
the same can never be predicated of men in
nations; it is impossible to inspire thexii
with that unanimity of object and tbakt
subordination necessary to the cvolvinj? of
the Communistic idea: this, in the words of
I. F., would imply a ** total renovation ot*
human nature and usages." In confirmatiozi
of the opinions we have enunciated on tliis
subject, we quote the following luminous
remarks from a review in CAonfrervV
Journal of one of Carlyle's '* Latter >.«i«(^
Pamphlets." *' In this essay, if he C^Ar-
WOULD COMilUXISM PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAX ?
18!
lyle) makes anj poidtire suggestion at all,
it », that nations sboal J be governed bj an
tfbtocncj of wisdom, 'captains of indus-
try; real, not sham rulers. * The few wise
lill bare, bj one method or other, to take
cuCTOiand of the innumerable foolibh/ Very
^ as a proposition in the abstract, but
Li>T are we to gcst at these Solomons ? how
to ea^ore their due succession, once we have
Isegua with them ? and, above all, by what
pnclicable means are we to induce the * in-
iniDyrable fooU&h ' to become tlie docile and
sWieat flocks of these sagacious shepherds?
I'ntil Mr. Carlvle favours mankind with a
biLibc'S-like recipe how to catch heroes and
»t ibcni to work, and more especially how
t3 catch masses of people and indoctrinate
tbtin with a feeling of obedience, nations to
ill 3j^<arancc must be content to jog on
vith their 'present plans of government, and
noke the biest of them.**
Bat to retam to **13omo.** Unless he is
pepsred to denj tliat the fear of want and
tbe desire for supremacy are the motives by
vidcli men are actuated, he makes out no
c«e in favour of Communism. That degree
of development is still a long way off in
ihich cQOScience and reflection shall be
tlie sole motive-sources ; and until we reach
^t decree, Communism must remain an
iBptalizable theory : the fear of want and the
^(&rt for sopremacy will clamorously inter-
P«e to prevent its adoption. But for the sake
tf argument, let us suppose the stage in
^i progress anticipated by "Homo"
sttaiDcd. As that state is the very highest to
^itieh it is possible man, as man, can reach,
^is dear Communism would be impotent to
4kt any farther improvement— innovation
ttaii make no advance; besides, a system
*liidi had led to a result so happy, ought
mi to be abandoned for any merely problc-
iMtieal good. We may re)nark, that if the
ttudtution of the present social form were
tWarized on, it might bo rendered quite as
tttractive as Communism, and far more
atMBsL Social theories, when reduced to
practice, lose much of their fair propoiiions.
Its superior reasonableness is the only claim
of the competitive state on our sympathies.
We believe private interest to be as neces-
sary to the existence of society, as gravitation
is to the existence of the material universe.
We admit that the Communist's svstem of
social organization, on a cursory view, ap-
pears a ftasible scheme; we are, however,
satisflod, from a close investigation of the
subject, that it is impossible for man, at his
present stage of progress, so to abstract
himself from his private interests as to ren-
der it practicable, and that were his nature
so far perfected as to admit of its being re-
duced to practice, it would fail to enhance
or to perpetuate his happiness. The evils of
the present social state, so far from beinir
aggravated, as "Homo" would have us
believe, are being gradually eradicated ; they
are working their own cure; men are seein;:
it to bo their interest so to control the
competition existing among them, that it
must soon assume a milder form.
As there are some points of resemblance
between Communism and Louis Blanc's
organization of labour scheme, we may be
pardoned for alluding to it here. The cause
of its failure was this. ^All the workmen
were equally paid ; the only guarantee sought
to ensure their hearty co-operation being the
principle of honour; but, quite in accordance
with the principle laid down in Negative
Article II., it was found that, for want of
strict surveillance, the less skilful workmen
trifled away their time — the others, exas-
perated at the unfairness of tUcsc loungers,
abandoned the scheme in disgust.
As we are not likely to have another
opportunity of writing on this subject, wc
take our leave of it, in the fine words of
Cowper : —
" Farewell, all self-satisfying schcmct,
All well-built systems, philosophic; iln-uiiia,
Deceitful views' of future bliss, farewell."
J.N.
AFFIRMATIVE AnXICLE.-V.
The abOitj of Communism to promote
^ kippiiMB of man is not necessarily con-
"Ktttd with ilie question of the abstract,
agkt or wnmg, of private property. The
It a malakf of some of its sup-
porters, who needlessly thus open up an
abstract argument, which, under the terms
entitling the present discussion, might bo
left undecided. We are not discnssing the
right of private property, but the ability ^i
183
WOULD COMMUNISM PR0310TE THE IIAPPIKESS OF AlAN ?
common property to promote Imman liappi-
ness.
What source, then, is there of human
happiness so sublime and sacred as that of
rehgion — as that of the venerative associa-
tion of the will of man with the will of God
-r-brin^in^ lieavenlv harmony to earth?
What fonn of faith, also, is so reverend in
its recor;nition of this as that of Christianity
in its purest acceptation ? And what the-
ology so established by internal evidence, so
perpetually the pioneer of progress, so con-
sonant with the highest culture, as that of
the teachings of Jesus ? As the relicrion of
Christ, then, is admitted as the highest
source of human happiness, temporal as well
as eternal, all discussion among its disciples,
as to the promotion of liuman happiness,
should evidently commence with the con-
sideration of how fur any proposed plan for
promoting the ha])pine^s of man was ac-
cordant with Christianity and sanctioned
as a duty of religion, or work of piety and
virtue. First and foremost, thus, we should
inquire whether Communism is accordant
with Christianity, and whether, therefore,
it is a religious duty or worthy work, if we
would truly test its claim to the title of a
principle promotive of the highest human
happiness.
Christianity b shown to be in accord-
ance with Communism from the evangelic
narratives. Christ himself appears to have
had no personal possessions — not even a
domicile of his own. lie was entertained
by liis friends and disciples, and ministered
to of the substance of others. By his pre-
cepts he })roclaimed the tme wealth to be
that of spiritual possessions, not things for
the body; and showed the impossibility of
serving two masters — Mammon and God.
By his actions he showed that universal
love, which is the spiritual counter-part of
material Communism. The whole design
of his life was the individual manifestation
of that which should become the example of
collective humanity. Tliat he himself might
not have organized collective Communism
(for we cannot absolutely say that he did
not do this), is humanly accounted for by
the brief period of his ministry, by the pre-
Imiinary necessity of preaching his doctrines,
and by the fewness of his followers pre-
vious to his death and resurrection. How-
ever this may be, that he nevertheless
preacheil the spirit of Communism is clearly
to be inferred from its being the first form
which his faith took — from its being the
organized condition in which his church
was originally constituted. Immediately
after his ascension, we find assembling for
prayer his chief male and female disciples
(probably about thirty in number), and
learn that they abode together in one house.
That at this time all Christ's disciples dwelt
thus in common, does not, however, neces-
sarilv follow. Soon after Peter addressed
about 120 persons, then the number of the
disciples, but with whom, of courije, the
degree of faith would determine the extent
of duty. We gladly admit thus, that chris-
tian Communism is not comjmlsury, bat
voluntary — not outwardly forced, but in-
wardly constrained. The case of Ananias
and Sapphira further evidences this. That,
however, which may not be physically en-
forced, may still remain a moral duty and
pious performance. Hence the prai.se of
Barnabas, who sold his property at Cyprus
and distributed to the poor. Hence from
Ananias none was required or all. Thos,
after Pentecost we find some three thousand
souls who continued steadfastly in the apos-
tles' doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking
of bread and in prayers; and we learn that
'^all that believed were together, and had
all things common; and sold their posses-
sions and goods, and parted them to all, as
every man had need." Still later in the
record we read, that ** the multitude of them
that believed were of one heart and vi one
soul; neither said any that ought that he
possessed was his own; but they had all
things common." — ** Neither was there any
among them that lacked: for as many as
were possessors of lands or houses sdd
them, and bronght the prices of the things
that were sold, and laid them down at the
apostles* feet: and distribution was made
unto every man sccordmg as he had need.**
Such were the acts of the apostles ; and
after rea<ling these, all must surely admit
that the first Hebrew Christians constituted
a Communist church, and that it is so far,
at least, fairly proved, that Christianity and
Communism were primitively connected and
accordant, and held mutual relations to each
other, like those of soul and body.
It may be objected, however, that such a
state was designed only to meet the peculiar
WOULD Cf»nrCSlSM PKOMOTE the IIAPPINKSS ok MA!«?
189
cinmmstances of the JerasaVm church ; and
that tliU5 it was confined, bv temporary and
local lixniUtion, from the practice of the
ehurdi at large. This ohjection is evidently
vnboot the sopport of Mnnlo^y. The com-
rocDCfment of a religions system is (generally ;
the pattern of its extend insj course. The
trath L$, that instead of Commnnisin having
biren locally limited to the Uebrevr church,
u vas circnmstantbliy impossible in the
fir&t fimndaticm of the Gentil<) churches.
The Hebrew customs liad already recognised
tbf liVrty of tJie Eiisenian communities
\y*(iTt the coming of Christ; but the laws
of tbe principal Oentile nations were jealously
acd Titilratiy opposed to the admission of
the right of association, as an xmperxum in
iat[-(no. Still the spirit of Communism,
ailLo3gIi the full form was impossible, was I
z«a]<nbtiy inculcated during the apostolic
poiod among the Gentile converts as well
i< the JfWj». The Waconate, indoed, was
iutitnted, to superintend a fair distribution
« tJie common stock b«*twocn the Gentile
anJ Hebrew widows in the Jcrufalt.'ui church
ii*eif. Hence, also, the frequent ai)peal3 of
Paul and Qamabas on the generosity of the
(i«^UlHtf, to send assistance in support of
th* Communist .church in Judea. Thu»
St. Paul declares, " Let no man seek his
wa, but erery man another's wealth. ♦ ♦ ♦
For the earth is the Lord's an<l the fulness
tierp/."* Not further to multiply extracts, \
l«t the reader especially retVr to Paul's
^ficriptioD of the members of one bo<ly in
tlietr wrveral relations, and to his beautiful
«l(tmtiijik of equality, both addressed to the
Geatile*, aa eTidently perfect exprest-ions of
^spirit of Commnnism. Well, also, both
«• to Jew and Gentile, does John Wesley
onrer the objection, that christian Com-
tamtai had only a temporary character.
""To say,* he writes, in his commentary on
t^ «!Qiimmm<m of good.^, recorded in the
"tcfj. "^ that the Christians did this oidy till
t^destmctioD of Jerusalem is not true, for
Bur did it long after. Not tliat there was
^ymtWe command for so doing; it was
BBtdrd out, for love constrained them. It
VMaiiatitral frnit of that love wherewith
^ member of tbe eommunity loved every
^ as hts onm lOiiL And if the whole
^rijitiao church had cootinned in this spirit,
this ni^ nm»% hmre continaed throngh all
-?a. To ■Arm, therefore, that Christ did
not doMijn it should continue, is neither
mon* nor less than to affinn that Christ did
not de>ign this measure of love to continue."
— " I see," he adds, " no proof of this." In
this conclusion we moyt conlially ron<:nr.
History supports, moreover, Wesley's brief
remark, that the primitive christian Com-
munism continued long after the destruction
of Jerusalem. At Peila, the christian /oar,
it was continued in }>ractice, ami from
thence was received by the Nazurenes nnci
others, with whom it may be traced down-
ward to the fourth ccntnrv.*
Leaving the aj)o>tolic Mire, and passing
to the patristic jH-ricKl, we first fiml many
testimonies to the consf-nnnce of Christianity
with Communism from the writings of the
fathers. St. Clement Fays : " Brothers, the
usage of all tin; thinirs in the world bhould
be common to all mon; but, alas! iniiiuity
has raus«'<l one to say, Behold my j)osses-
sious! and another, Bt-huld mine! and it is
thus among men that private property was
estah]i>hed." In the Ginerul Kpistle of St.
Barnabas, a work probably of this perio<l, it
is also declared : " Thou shalt comnmnicate
to tby neighboTir of all thou hast; thou
shalt not call anvthing thy own; for if ye
partake of such things as are incorruptible,
how much more should you do it in those
that are coiTuptible?"f St. Benedict, of
course speaking only in reference to moral
authority and doctrinal duty, thus strongly
declares, '* None should have property. All
things, as it is written, shouhl be c<nnmnn
to all, nor should any one assert or presume
anything to be his." Tremens likewise
writes: ''Whereas the Jews consecrated a
tenth, they who live under the liberty of the
gospel give all to the Lonl's use." St.
Ambrose declares: ** Nature has given all
things in common to all men. Nature has
established a common right, and it is usur-
pation which has producetl a private claim.**
Justin Martyr writes: "We who loved
nothing like our possessions, now produce
all we have in common, and spread our
whole stock before our indigent brethren."
Tertullian adds : '* We Christians look upon
ourselves as one body, informed as it were
with one soul ; and being thus incorporated
* Consult Eusehius, Hist, iv. 4; Gibbon,
vol. ii. p. 274, rt $eq.
+ Home's '* Apocrypha," ch. xiv. ver. 10. 18*21 ,
.190
WOULD COMMUNISM TROMOTK THE IIAPPHfESS OP MAN ? •
by love, we can never dispute what we arc
to bestow upon our own members ; accord-
ingly all things are in common excepting
our wives."* The same father also writes
in his address to the Gentiles : f " Brethren
we are, even of your own, by the law of
Nature our common mother, although ye
liave little claim to be called men, because
ye are bad brethren. But how much more
worthily are they both called and esteemed
brethren, who acknowledge one Father,
that is, God ; who have drunk of one spirit
of hoUness ; who from the womb of common
ignorance have come forth into the one light
of truth Therefore, because we are
tmited in mind and soul, wo do not hesitate
to have our goods in common." The prac-
tical bearing of this teaching becomes evi-
dent in relation to the conventual life, in
the words of St. Jerome, who writes: " It is
apparent that the church of believers in
Christ at the first was such as monks
endeavour to be now; that nothing in pro-
perty is any man's own, none rich among
them, none \iOOT; their patrimony is dis-
tributed to the needy." St. Bernard, like-
wise, in his address concerning the Templars,
writes : " That nothing may be wanting to
evangelical perfection, they dwell together
without separate property of any kind, in
one house, under one rule, c^ircful to prescr\-e
the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace."
From these testimonies, then, we may gather,
that in the patristic period Commnuism was
deemed so accordant with Christianity, as
to be inculcated as a moral duty, and as a
point of religious perfection. As a con-
sequence, the conventual life arose first in
the east and then in the west. \Vith the
celibitary and superstitious defects of the
monastic system, however, our argument is
not concerned. It has simply to regard that
system, imperfect in itself, as one of the
links in the chain of proof, that Communism
is accordant with Christianity.
If after this period we turn and observe
the condition of the eastern church, with a
view to the consideration of this, we find
the conventual life extensively established,
a system of clerical colleges in operation,
stewards appointed to manage the landed
projicrty of the church; and we read of
* Women, no more than men, can be jasUy
accounted property.
+ •♦ Ad NaUoncs," chap. xli.
Basil and his Basihade — a cluristian Com-
munist city; and of the opinions of the
Montanists, Circmnccllions, and other non-
conformist sects, on property, debts, and
slavery.* We prefer, however, foDowing tlic
route of Rome, as the usual track to modem
times.
The church of St. Peter, like the other
churches of tho Gentiles, though from many
causes it did not practise the full communion
of goods, has yet decisive circumstances in
its early history wliich indicate a perception
of the Communist constitution of Chris-
tianity. At first, by Roman law, the chris-
tian church was incapable of holding landed
property in common. To this effect several
statutes existed, which, like our law of mort-
main, were enacted to prevent any real
estate from being given or bequeathed to a
society or corporate body without special
licence. With the decHne of the empire,
however, the severity of these statutes re-
laxed, and before the close of the third
century large estates were bcstowetl and
possessed by the chnrcheji of Rome, Milan,
Carthage, Autioch, and Alexandria. One
of the laws of Constantino was especiaUy
effectual in this respect. This was a law
which expressly secured to the church the
right of receiving legacies. Gifts to the
church were neither bequeathed nor received
thus for the private purposes of ecclesiastics,
but for the public use of the church in its
general capacity. Thus in the Canonical
Institutes of the Emperor Ludovicus Pius,
A.i). 380, it is written :— " The goods of the
church are the offerings of the faithful, to
assist the suffering, and as the patrimony
of the poor." Prosper, also, adds his testi-
mony in these words: "Holy men did not
receive the goods of tho church as private
property, but as given to be shared amoog
the poor." He further writes, "Whatsoever
the church hath, it hath in common with
all such as have nothing." This is assuredly
a proof that in the chief Gentile church
the spirit of Communism at first prevailed
as it ha<l done before at Jerusalem. The
causes of the decay of this spirit-— dnefly
the imperfect communitivc constitution, and
the embezzlements of ecclesiastics — are
beyond our argmnent, which will now briefly
draw to a conclusion.
• Neauder, " Church Hist," vol. iii., jMi««tm.
EUROPEAX pHiLosornv.
191
TbroDglioat the course of our considcra-
tioos we haTC argued that the accordance
of CLristianitj and Communism is proved
from the evangelic narratives, an^ from
th« coQstitation of the primitive church at
JtTosalem. In support of this, we have
aidoeed the venerable testimonies of the
pitrirtic period, and brought forward the
irartioal traditions of the church for several
centuries, as illustrative of its tnith, and
fortaldno: to a considerable extent of the
spirit of Communism. Thus we have peuc-
FAliT ^hered, that Communism, as related
to Cliristbnity, should bo regarded as a
ovwal oUi^atioD and meritorious work.
On these deductions, then, we base our
^ tnd foremost argument in favour of
CocflittBisn, as a principle promotive of
human happiness. The richest realities of
enjoyment are those of religion. The self-
satisfaction of conscience, in the performance
of a nforal duty, is a heaven within the soul.
Deeds of duty and devotion not only bloom
here bi»low, but also bear fruit on high.
It is human to claim a right; it is divine
to perform a duty. Communism, then, as
an obliiiation of Christianity, as a duty .
of religion, must be in the highest degree
promotive of human happiness, temporal
and eternal. No higher name than that of
Christ exists among men. Keligion is our
noblest, truest enjoyment. On the sacred
pleasure derived thus from the i^erformance
of a religious duty, do we trace our first
argument in favour of Communism as pro-
motive of the hap2)iness of man. G. B.
Cljt Inrictits' Iwtioii*
EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.
BY TME AUTHOR OK "tHE ART OF REASONING."
PROi/>GOMENA — ( Continued.)
That singular potency by which, through the consentaneous unfolding of their inherent
od natural activities, the cognitive faculties conform to complex and intricate intelligential
hvi, and thread the labyrintlis of involved and subtle formulary processes, unconsciously
<u)d, as it were, by the mere force of those irresistible impulses which co-exist in the
itractural elements of mind, is, perhaps, one of the most remarkable facts connected with
tbe'^hnoBophy of the intellectual powers." Man is, at first,
** The adoring child
Of Xature'8 raiyesiy, sublime or wild ;
Hill, flood, and forest, mountain, rock, and sea."
It is only gradually that Egoism or personality becomes developed. The externalities,
"^^ everywhere be turns impinge their impressions on his senses, monopoHze all the
•*^exercis« of his faculties. The severance of this synthesis of the Ego and the Non-ego
"■"tie saodering of the mentality from the objectivities without and beyond — the assigning
^ * pntcDsiTe existence to the phenomenal universe, and the realization of the idea of
^ we procttses of thought requiring time for their fulfilment.
" Like the moon straggling through the night
Of whirlwind rifted cloads,"
"« the early prefignrations and obscure preludes of man's conscious existence ; but at
'*B^ these "glances of soul-dissolving glory" become continuous, and consdousncss,
'''lulling firom the clood-haze, seems like
** Ton crescent moon, as fixed as if it grew
In Us own cloudless, suirless lake of blue; "
192 EUROPEAN niiLOSopnr.
the Mind differentiates itself from Matter^ aud man regards liimseif as a *' nursling of
Immortality."
But although we assert that the mind is thus unconscious of the intricate thought-
processes through which it passes in its earlier btagcs, it is not to bo inferred that we
believe that the mind is inactive and quiescent — a mere passivitj. Our minds are not
mere note-books of facts. The human soiil is not a lake in whose placid bosom are
emHsaged — in shadowy though slightly confused beauty — the innumerous objectivities of
the phenomenal world. It is endowed with a constructive, truth-disintegrating power, by
Which man is enabled to become " the interpreter of nature " — the analyst of phenomena
—and the co-ordinator of all the ideas derivable from the external world into one organic
whole, interlinked and knit together by the formal power of the Reason. The mind-germ,
which is man's birth-gifl from the Creator, does not grow by the mere accretion, saccessire
and gradual, of idea-eliciting phenomena, but by the digestion, absorption, and assimilation
of the facts of phenomena into the thought-sy&tem as the nutriment of his mental
energies — the constituents of Theory and Science and the elements of Tnith — the immortal
melodv of heaven.
m
"We know that it is one of the current " cants ** of the time, that " the ago of Philosophy is
gon«.\" The reign of Positivism is established, and Metaphysic is a crownless queen. The
abstruse, the visionary, the impracticable, the intangible, the shadowy, " have vanished to
return not." Woe unto us if it be so! Is man an insoluble problem to himself? Must
humanity ever feel the burning wish to be revealed into itself and be for ever answered by
negations? Must man never be released from the burden and the mysteiy of specnJatire
thought? Is self-knowledge unattainable? Must it ever be a "vain endeavour" to qim
at learning
** The nature and the science of our being ? '*
Arc th<5 sage's precept, TvmBi atavrov — " Know thyself," and the scriptural command,
"Examine your own selves,'' impossible tasks? Are those aspirations which have been
implanted in the glorious intellect of man, stimulating him to inquiry regarding the usci
of those marvellous powers with which he is endowed and the destiny which is before him,
purposeless and vain?
" Tbi.s intellectaal being — lho»e thougbtn that wander throngh eternity,"*
can they be ignored or forgotten? Is it supposable that man should be able to hftrT>fff
steam like a mechanic drudge to execute his labour — dissect the rainbow, and from that
type of uncertamty and evanescence learn " the laws of light " — lay his hand upon the
Ocean's mane, and bid it bear his "oak leviathans " through the mighty "yeast of waTei"
— measure heat, and apply it to purposes of practical utility— employ the " thunder-footed**
Electricity as his tidings-bearer — cause the light of the elusive sun- rays to act as the'
pencil of an artist — dive to the ocean-depths amid the tumult of the boiling waters to lay
the foundation-stones of stately fabrics — glean a knowledge of the laws of crystallizatioa
from the fitful snow-flakes in a winter storm— build up the splendid system of geometric
truth — read the narrative of creation's early vicissitudes in the rock-mosses of the Andes
■
and the Alps —
" Unwuid the eternal dancer of the sl^y, '
EUROPEAN PIIITX)SOPnT. 193
and construct that rast sjBtem of experimental and positive science on which the prac-
ticaliiti of our era pride themselves — and yet be unable to nnswathe the adjunct and the
accidental from the mentalitj, and thus approximate to a solution of the problems of the
i«i5<a? No!
" DP. 9u iSMxa Tovrn fiotpa itm TcXfa^opor Kf arai y«irpMTa<>" *
Do we, then, bdiere that Philooophj is possible ? Assuredly we do; and if 70a
£iTOQr us with jonr attention, we shall occupy the present paragraph with an attempt to
prove that it is to. Philosophy can only be possible through the objectivizing of the mind,
U^ by oar being able to look upon our mentality in an experimental manner. Now, when
veaoalyie human knowledge into its ultimate elements, we discover that Self -j- our per-
eepikiB, fbcm the apparent sum. But does not this very analyzation prove the existence
and reality of a power of riewing Hind as an object? Does it not necessitate the conclu-
BOB, tbit there is a primal cognitive power by which the impressed Self is revealed? If it
be Bot is, how is our self-identity made manifest ? — how are we able to differentiate the
Efofnprcned from the impressions made upon the Ego? No one can, we think, gainsay
tbe accuracy of the inference, that, before the gorgeous scenery of external experiences
(oold benme eognoscihle by the mind, there must exist within it an exquisite apparatus of
riaoo which, holding, as it were, a central position in the intelligence, receives the radia-
tiou which are sent forth from " all objects of all thought,*' and which is subsequently
<a}>!ed, by employing the animal faculties as its agents, to go forth aggressively into the
vorld of phenomena, and acquire a knowledge of the meaning and significance of the manifold
iBd ingnificent wcmders which are observable in the protensive universe. But superadded
t« this, must we not also predicate of " the vision and the faculty divine,** that it possesses
tbe more singular potency of measuring out and consecrating what of the microcosm within
cnttitntfs oar personality, t.e., of forming the notion of Self ? This Selbstbewusstseyn, as
K«t calls it, t «., the becoming aware of one's own personality, or as our own philosophers
^BMoinate it, Self-consciousness, is the condition of all knowledge. By the eye of Con-
Knoaess alone are all our perceptions realized. The various modifications of the mind,
its feeRngs, sensations, perceptions, thoughts, volitions, &c., are observed by it, exactly as
tl>e TirioQs members of the body and the functions tliey perform are seen by the eye.
^Vre esn be no experience without knowledge, neither can there l)e knowledge without a
ii^ and, consequently, a knowledge-perceptual agency in that mind. It may not be
<*7 to iflstitute a self-inquisition so rigid and minute as shall enable us to force our way
Btetbeprofoundest recesses of our soul, and gather information regarding the obscurest
c?teies of our being; but we are persuaded that by a strenuous intension of the mental
*^ the fact of the existence of this eelf-apperceptivc power will be made manifest. Not
^ it can tee Itself, any more than the bodily eye can witne9s its own operations, but
^it» existence may be legitimately inferred from the facts of which it is the revealer. It
iitnKthat it is diiBcult to trace out the distinct in the unieal — to demarcate the definite
?*t b an inseparable whole — to distinguish without the desire to separate and disjoin —
t« fwcdTe the accarate boundaries of an clement of thought, which, while it is jier se
, who accomplishes bet own purposes, has not ordained thii.'*
194 EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.
differentiated from all other thought-elements, is yet never found alooe and incomposite.
Still, if it be a fact that not only external representations but internal modifications are
envisaged in an intelligential capacity, and the idea of the Ego is therein elicited, we are
necessitated to infer the existence of a faculty of Self-consciousness, by which mind may
be beheld as an object, and by which Philosophy is rendered possible.
Man is able to attain knowledge in no other way than through the faculties bestowed
upon him for that purpose ; so fur, therefore, as he exercises these faculties in accordance
with the rules of their action, and in directions open to human investigation, will success
attend his efforts. Philosophy depends for its existence upon the development of con-
sciousness— the production of a healthy condition of tlie optic organ of the intellect — the
acumenation and invigoration of " the mind's eye." " In the crowded city and howling
wilderness; in the cultivated province and solitary isle; on the flowery lawn and tlic
cragged mountain; near tlio murmur of the rivulet and amid tlie uproar of the ocean; ir
the radiance of summer and the gloom of winter; while the heavens thunder, as well a^
when the breezes whisper," the self-consciousness of man makes itself felt, "Without thij
all nature would be a lifeless, profitless fact; for the objects which experience presents t<
US cannot truly be said to exist, so far as we are concerned, till the Intellect, by its voli-
tionary processes, asserts the superiority of its active energies to the passive receptivitj oi
its nature, and by the operations of its arranging and combining powers, endeavours to
reduce the presentations of experience, i. e., phenomenal knowledge, to distinguii»liaUo
elements and classes, and thus, by the steadying of objectivities before the scrutinizing
eye of the intelhgence, aims at the acquisition of a more perfect and determinate know-
ledge of their properties or attributes, as well as of the capacities of its own thought-
powers. The means by which Philosophy is realizable, therefore, appears to be the
developments of consciousness in such a manner as shall secure the mcthodic<ili£aiwn oi
experience, the differentiation of the Ego and the Non-ego — the analyzation of the powers
of the thought-agency — and the acquisition of clear, distinct, and accurate notions of lb*
presentations which experience lays before the speculative intellect for examination, »•
well as of the various self-developed notions which originate from the mind's pcrccpticffl of
the operations which it performs upon these presentations. That such a power is attain-
able by the intellect we cannot doubt, if we reflect that the very existence of the
philosophic aspiration imperatively demands such an introsi)ective procedure on the part oi
the cognition, and that we have no reason for believing that any aspiration of the humaO
soul is destitute of the means of its realization.
Having thus, in a few elucidatory and suggestive sentences, presented the reader with •
slight abstract of an argument for the possibility of Philosophy, we shall proceed to
mention a few of those circumstances in '• the life of humanity," which seem to na to
have called forth the philosophic instinct, and to have led to the gradual though gpoD"
taneous exsurgence of " the problems of the Reason."
When the impressions derivable from the phenomenal world are intromittcd into the
intelligential sensorium — a boundless magnitude of wonders, where the magic of gloxiou*
landscapes present themselves to man's view, and the heavenly star-worlds come out ti
" preachers of beauty, and h'ght the universe with their admonishing smile" — there arises
within the human soul, " as if the touch of an angel's hand were to awaken a sleeper b
EUBOFEAN PHILOSOniT. 195
ys ceU,** a dim, mjsterioas, and undefined conception, that " not for nothing" does the
miverse, with all its Tarioos inliabitants, exist. Every being and element of nature
^[ipears to fulfil its own determinate purpose, and each specific item seems pre-organized
to acoompUsh it^ own part in the drama of reality. This idea is necessarily conditionated
in the mind by the operation of the laws of its energies, called into activity by the pheno-
laeoal impressions which it receives. ^ Were there no sensation, there is no reason to believe
tbere wonld be knowledge; bat when once there it sensation, the mind, from its internal
eoDsutution, posits things altogether and essentially distinct from sensation, or from any
possible transfonnation of sensation." It is, therefore, because man is created capable,
cpoQ the reception of impressions, of positing, in tliought^ the results of the forms of his
IdtellMtaal facolties, that the idea of destiny originates in the mind. Were man destitute
of reasaning power, of the undeveloped germs of such thoughts, what circumstance could
» tffat the mind as to elicit the cogent queries, Why ? What ? How ? Wherefore ?
In the earlier stages of life, too, when man's nature, with all its curious diversity of
feeliD|s, thoughts, passions, and desires, begins, like an early spring blossom, to unfold
itself^ the world seems expressly calculated to afford scope not only for the highest de-
^opQKDt of the intellect, but also for the unlimited gratification of the sensuous emotions,
^1 hopes beat high, 'and bright illusions gather, as roseate dawn-clouds smile in a
^rage, in the panting bosom ; but it is not long until he learns
" A truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
Is full of guilt and misery."
This, however, only tends to deepen the intensity of the sense of mystery which man
^k These faculties, these desires, emanate from our constitution, and seemingly point
tolttpjanes as their result. Wherefore, then, does disappointment clog enjoyment ? We
n&r, we revolt, we doubt, we feel aggrieved as well as surprised, at the apparent anomaly
*54 cry out, like Fcatus —
" I run tlie gauntlet of a file of doubts,
I a4k a hundred questions what they mean.
And every one points gravely to the ground
'With one baud, and to heaven with the other."
Whit, then, can be the destiny of a being so curiously framed — a creature whose aspira-
^ tre heavenward, and whose passions tend to earth — and who feels an almost insur-
^QoontaUe difScnlty in adding,
" The purity of heaven to earthly joys ?"
Aks ! that the conjunction should be, practically, so rare ! And is it not an all-inte-
^^g ^Bn?i what shall enable us to avoid
** The dull satiety which all destroys,
And root from out the soul the deadly weed vshich cloys ? "
la the crowded city — in the mart and congress of the people — in the busy haunts of
^aofactiire, man seems as if he were earth's emperor; but when he comes into the
Fsesoe of natoze, and becomes aware of the magnificent spectacle of creation — when he
^^ddi, fnploMd In the horizon of his own view, mansions, villages, towns, mountains
196 BUROPBAH PHILOSOPHY.
forests, lawns, the Tast extent of the " most starry canopj" which night unfolds to riew,
and feels himself a mere point in creation, and even the earth on which he dwells a
scarcely discernible speck in the vast amplitudes of space, then come forth, with greater
and greater force, the soaUqoestions, What is man ?— and his destiny, whither doth it
point ? While the Specolatire Reason is labouring to acquire a solution of this mysteiy,
we can conceive no ** temple more divinely desolate" than is the doubt-tossed soul; but
when the God-answer dawns on his intellect, with what intense rapture is his eureba — ^I
hare found it — uttered !
** Man is the cruellest enemy of man. Lawless hordes of savages still wander through
vast prairie-lands, where man meets bis fellow-man in enmity, and perhaps glories in
devouring him as food. * * * Defying tml, danger, and privation, armies penetrate
forests, cross wide plains, till they meet each other, and the sight of their brethren is the
signal for mutual slaughter. Armed with the most potent and splendid of human inven-
tions, hostile fleets traverse the ocean; through waves and storm man rushes to meet man
in order to destroy each the other with his own hand, amid the raging of the elements^
upon the lonely, inhospitable sea. In the interior of states, where men seem united in
equality under the dominion of law and justice, it is for the most part only force and fhrad
that rule under these venerable though desecrated names.*'* Thutf it is now; but shall it
be thus for ever ? Wherefore do men exist upon the earth ?
This idea of destiny, thus forced in upon the consciousness of man, how fertile in topics
of thought — bow pregnant with philosophic thought ! Mind, Matter, Creation, God,
Time, Space, Magnitude, Power, Fate, Necessity, Contingency, Condition, Change, Cause,
Effect, Intelligence, Externality, Form, Colour, Barbarism, Civilization, Morals, Law, &C.,
with all the problems they involve, are but so many edncts of consciousness, athnulatsd
into activity by the idea of destiny — an idea coeval in its development with man*s earliest
thoughts — co-extensive with the whole range of humanity, and perceptible in a higher or
lower degree of intensity, wheresoever pleasure or pain have written their aignaturet oa
the human soul.
Oar purpose in the projected series of articles on "'European Philosophy*' will be to
present our readers with a brief panoramic view of the efibrts of the intellect to solve its
own problems ; to lay before him a comprehensive outline of the labours, the speculationi,
the errors, the discoveries, and systematic expotdtions of the thought-sctence of the gictt
monarchs of mind who, for a succession of ages, have been engaged in specnlatiflM
regarding the various conceptions involved in the idea of the " Destiny of Maa** — ^met
who, in general, have displayed the rarest union of speculative thought, pure taste, exten-
sive erudition, unrivalled felicity of illustration, earnest zeal, purity of character, and
eloquence of btyle, and by so doing not only convince the reader that " philosophic idcM
fulfil an indibpensable office in the evolution of humanity** f — but also that there is within
it a '• vigorous principle of vitality." ♦ ♦ " It never allows mankind to wander far, nor
lonj^, wiikoot pressing its claims and obtruding its counsels and admonitions upon tbeok
It must, therefore, have a permanent hold o? our sympathies, some fixed root in our natniVi
* Fiebte't ** Die BesUimnung des Menschen "—The Destiny of Man.
■f " Les ui^n p bilosophiques reroplisseut uu olllce indbpeu»able dan* revolution d< I'i
E. LKrraKS de \a PhiloMphie Potiuve, page 3.
BCPOBTS or MUTVAI. DfPBOTKMBirr SOCIETnES.
197
vit woBid hiTt been obliterated long ago from the book of kDowIedge." * In thiB survey
tiestodeot nnst not be rarpriaed at the maltiplicitjr of sjstems which he will find ns
^^"Boiflginng, iioce "the tablet of the mind is not like a chess-board, where the
uMed gme maf be taken op at the point where the last plajer left it; for the
^s'tfaab of tbooght are complicated and snbtle, and oar trsin of ideas seldom remain
^tr vittble to conseioasnees for an/ length of time. The lamp of our internal know-
Mr^ ii far erer passing onwards, and we can only now and then arrest its coarse and
^t t DiUe from its hghL Every man has to commence a new plan for himselfi and is
*««iseIW to letfe it, in tarn, as a broken thread, to whoever comes after him." f
• «
Blak«]r*» Histtny of Logic," IntroiL xix.
f Ibid, XX.
BEPOBTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
^«(tnuferJiAnM0Mi^-^)a Monday evening,
^'^, ibe otmben aad friends of this Insti.
^ aaMmbkd for the first time «t the Lecture
^"^^^ ^inecai^qiMre, WestoiiDster, for the pnr-
rwofheMiBg an iBttoduetonr address by the
j£> loottf *«• cstakdished in October, 1840;
^^vkieb petiod 10 tbe end of March, in the
^^ na, hs cflbils have been somewhat
'ittitfcd, oviaf to the limiled aeonounodation it
*» m a pouiKtu to aflbrd lo those desirous of
^i<^ia«ni«cddylecinrea. lthasnowemer|ped
^'bcalityinoTs suitable, oonvcnieut, and in-
^niil is «Ttry lespeet. Tbe sphere of its
y^0B» b ia eonseqacnoe much extended, and
^■^ >adi bvoureble annrieas its future utility
'WIttJ to be advanced.
>^ "fnitm Om eourse of lectures for the pre-
^^IQsrtor by an address to the friends and sup-
'^fn of the iustSttttion, Mr. £. Kooud com-
^"^ iff enfareiug on the attention of all pre-
|>!u dw duties snd oblications devolving upon
<^ in eomitsion with &e work of moital and
^^ eohare. Passing on to notice the advan-
'*^ «Ii vbo took an active part in such pursuits
'^'^ h« briefly adverted to tbe effects they
''^^^i^^lj produced on aoclety at lan^. Fur
"^ eBe(f«ngement be enumerated many of the
y^-»i'atetn men of past and present tiiues who
'^1 n-fu to posts of honour and distinction from
; '■' QtvKsat diligence and persevering apphca-
-^ Tbe rise and progress of lilerarv institu-
: ^ (brooiciioiit the length and breadth of the
'^> *«• t nrcunstance valcniaXe>l to afford the
*]^*vbcr» of this country intense gratification ,
"-/^ ^vt DcceaMiily tend to inspire Ihem with
;> *viae^ hopes and the brightest anticipations
'''^ fa^QTe. InteUigence was tbe order of the
2~'j« practieal and ruling spirit of the age ;
,^ * proportion to its universal extension, the^
^»j''*xpeet error mod superstition to be eradi-
'*^** The p«T»«perit7 of institutions of this
"^T^ depended mainly on the energy and
^-<^t; of their members. Recognisiug tbii
-^^raat fMt, and bearing in mind the siguifi-
'^ tif ibr task Mv^ased them, the lecturer con
' '^ ^ r nhertimr them to spare neither toil noi
exertion to elevate the society, whose Interests
they were pledgped to advance, and success would
ultimately furnish their reward.
EdiMburghTemperanee Mutual Improvement
Auociation.'-On the evenina of Friday, tbe Sdth
March, this associatiou held its third annual
soiree, when a lai^e number of the members and
their friends were present; James Watson, preal-
dent and fouuder of tbe association in the chair.
Alter the usual edible delicacies had been dis-
cussed, the chairman delivered an excellent
address, in which he spoke of the necessity of
cultivating the mind, and of applying all the
euergies,aud~if possible — undivided attention of
the mind to the pursuit of knowledge. Be then
adverted to the excellent opportunities which
were afford^i by mutual improvement societies
to ^oung men for improving their minds ; and
believed ihem to be specially fitted for promoting
the moral, intellectual, and, consequently, soctaT,
elevation of the working classes. The secretarr
read the annual report, which gave an exoeea-
ingly encouraging acroum of the proeeedings of
the past year ; it concluded with the following
paragraph :— " Your committee having thus given
you a brief statement of the society's proceedings
during the past year, cannot but express their
gratimde for the pleasurs experienced, and the
benefit derived, bjr tlie members, both in a reli-
Eious, mtirai, and intellectual pointof view. They
ave al»o much pleasure in being able to state,
that, at no period since its commencement has
the society been in a mora prosperous condition.
In view of the foregoing considerations, they
would earnestly urge upon all young men the
necessity of joining similar associations, where
they would not only improve their own minds,
but have an opportunity of promoting the moral
and social well-being of the human family."
Addresses on the following subjecu were deli-
vered by several members during the evening:
" The Importance of Knowledge," " Persever-
ance,' and " Sociality." With Uitese were inter-
spersed a number of recitations, songs, glees,
&c., thus combining " plea-«ur« with profit," and
the whole tended to produce an elevating and
••Jamks."
nor I cheering effect on all presenL
198
TRB IXQUIRER.
Cljt 3minm
QUESTIONS KEQUIRIKG AVSWERS.
98. A. A. is desirous of commencing the study
•f the Italian language, but cannot indulge in the
luxury of a living teacher ; he would therefore be
greatly obli|^ to any of your correspondents
who, through the medium of your excellent pub.
licotion, would be kind enough to give him in-
formation as to what book or books are best
adapted for the private study of that language,
and the method of procedure.
99. As I have perused C. W., Junior's artidc
upon Homoeopathy, and presume he is wrll ac-
quainted with persons treated under this system,
may I venture to ask him, Whether my Mends
who have adopted it are exceptions to the rule,
in having remarkably pale and sickly faces?
"Whether they are, or are not, can C. W., Jun.,
inform me how this is to be accounted for 7
H.D.C.
100. As I wish to become a good elocutionist, I
should leel grateful if you would inform me of
the best meUiod to develop and train the voice,
so as to give it power and flexibility. My voice
is not deficient in strength, but requires culture.
What period of life is most suitable for com-
mencing the study of this art 7 I doubt whether
my age (which is twenty years) is not rather late
to begin.— Dauon.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
85. WorkM for Seamen.— " A Sailor" is in-
formed, that there is a work entitled " Plane and
Spherical Trigonometry," by H. W. Jeans, pub-
lished in two parts, price As. each, with which he
would doubtless be pleased. Weale has also
published severaluseful hand-books in his shilling
series, such as **The Theory and Practice of
Nautical Astronomy and Navigation," " Sailors'
Sea Books," &c. — A. C.
89. The Port Royalist* were nn order of Jan-
senists. They derived their nom de plume tton
their residence, Port Royal des Champs. The
object of their association was to procure quiet
retirement and opportunity for study. The chiei
Fort Koyalists wereAniauld, Pascal, Nicole, Sacy,
Lancelot The prineipal works which they issued,
either ainglv or ooiyointlv, arc— " Oramroalre
G^nirale Raisonn6e ; *' Elemens de Geometric ;"
"L'Art de Penser;" "Traite des Vraies etdes
Fausses Id^as;" **Tbeologie Morale des
Jesuites;" "Pratique Morale des Jesuites;"
*' Pensees sur la Religeon ; " " Lettres i un Pro-
vincial." All these works are excellenL The
Grammar, Logic, and Geometry still hold places
AS text-books in their departments, and are really
wonderful productions, considering the age in
which their authors flourished.
We forbear ttom answering more minutely, as
we know that they are to engage the attention of
the author of ** The Art of Reasoning " in bis
articles on "European Philosophy."— S. N.
The Port RoyalistSf a society of Cistcrtian
nuns, took their name firom the place where their
monastery was situated, viz., Fort Royal des
J Champs, a spot between Versailles andChevreose.
The monastenr was founded in the sixteenth ct>ii-
tury by Matthieu de Marli, and in eonuexion
with it was the convent of the same name at Paris.
These women devoted themselves to the task
of teaching the young, sueeouring the needy, and
visiting and ooroforting the sick ; and after a time
were aided in this noble occupation by a few men.
who established themselves near their monastery
and assisted them in their holy work.
The history of tliese nuns forms one of the most
melancholy, but beautiAil, christian incidents in
the annals of tlie church ; the persecutions tliev
endured during the stormy and intolerant days of
Henri IV. and Louis XIII., for acts of which
they were guiltless, and for cherishing doctrines
the existence and purport of which they were
totally iguoraut ; the noble actions they nerfornied,
the good thev did, and the purity and christian
grace which tiiey preserved throughout their bitter
trials, is well worthy the attention of all those who
can properly admire and appreciate unswervini;
fidelity to truth and virtue, whether it bo fuund
among Catholics ur Protestants.
A deeply touching and interesting account rf
them is given by Sir J. Stephen, in liia •* £ls»uv>
on Ecclesiastical Biography."— K. W.
92. Alliterative Verses. — I have not been able
to obtain the name of the author of the Vmea
quoted by your correspondent," Drumwhannan,"
in liie April number. But the subjoined may be of
some use to liim in obtainine the required iniur-
mation. I met with it in the June number of
" Wheeler's Hampshire and West of Bngland
Mapzine " for 1828, where it states, that tbe lines
havmg been incorrectly printed in a London inil».
lication, tliey had been favoured with an autlivntic
copy by the author. The whole is as follows : —
ALLITBHATION, on THE siege of BELGRADE.
A Rondeau.
An Austrian army, awftilly array 'd.
Boldly by battery besiege Belgrade ;
Cossack commanders, cannonading come.
Deal destruction's dire destructive doom ;
Ev'ry efibrt engineers essay.
For fame, for ftvedom fight, fierce, Airious ft u\ .
Gen rals 'gainst gen'rals grapple ; bi acioua G «. u .
How honours heaven heroic hordiliooU !
Infuriate, indiscriminate is ill,
Just Jesus, instant innocence instil !
Kindred kill kinsmen, kindred kindred kill.
Labour low levels largest, loltiest lines ;
Men niarch 'midst mounds, moals, iuoux^tQlL.v
murdrous minea»
Now noisy, noxious numbers notice nongHt
Of outwani obstacles o'ercoming ougbt ;
Poor patriots perish, persecution's pest !
Quite quiet quakers, '* quarter, quarter que^t.* '
Reason returns, religion, li^ht redounds^
Sawarrow, stop such sangmnary sounds..
Truce to thee, Turkey, teiror to thy trails ;
Unwise, ui^ust, tmroercifu) Ukraine ;
Vanish; vile vengeance ; vanish, vict'ry vain.
Why iRish we warfare, wherefore welcors««> n^'v i
Xtrxts, Xantippus, Xavier, Xenopbcn I
ti
THE TOUXG STUDENT ASD WRITER 8 ASSISTAKT.
199
Yifld ye, young T«ghier yeomen, yield your yell.
Ziobznerman'B, Zorowter's, ZenoM zeal,
Afnin attimet, arts aigainst arms appeal.
All, all ambitioaf aims, avaunt, away !
£t ertera, et cetera, et cetera."— G. P.
W. Minist^ial Works. — There are several
sehsis devoied to the publicaiiou of sermons;
UKng them we may menuon *' The Pulpit,"
"The Penny Pulpit," and "The Evangelical
Folpit;" all published iu a cheap form. We know
cf DO commentary exactly answering to '* Drum-
vbaanan's** description; the Tract Society has
pohluhed one compiled principally fVom Henry
tai Scott ; ** Barnes's Notes " also deserve honour-
iJUr awntion. StyleVs " Pulpit Studies ; Aids
to Preaching," &c., 4«., is worthy of perusal.
Tbere are numerous volnmes of skeleton ^er.
fans, of which any intelligent bookseller will
iidimn him. Dr. Cumming's " Scripture Read-
ings," and Dr. Kitto's" Daily Bible Illustrations,"
are tofqEestiTe.— L. 6. 6.
d5. inmtparent Painting on Glas».—T\ie art
cf trsikspcrent painting on glass is dependent for
il^ koccess more on the taste and dexterity of the
utist than on any peculiarity of the materials.
I viU inform your eorre^pondent how t have
(wees^oUy pcunted magic lantern sliders; one
pKoIiarity of wl^h I have never seen published.
HtTiag [Bvcured a piece of clear glass of a shape
iDd 9ze according to taste or circumstances,
dnv TOUT design upon paper in outline, and
>(ick it on the back of the glass ; then grind some
"^ blade," with oil and turpentine, to the
nasMteiiey of milk, or rather thicker ; then with
tK^ Keel pen draw the outline, which, uf course,
*31 be seen through the glass ; you will by tliis
means be able to produce a much finer stroke
than by a cornel's hair pencil ; let your colour be
OS thick an it will conveniently work, as the
thinner you make it the less black will it be.
Having drawn your subject in outline very finely,
take some of the colours used by artists (they are
ftroimd iu oil and sold in tubes), which must all
be transparent; for blue," Prussian blue," or" ul-
tramarine; " for red, " cannine," or most of tlie
"lakes;" for yellow, "gamboge;" for preen,
"verdigris;" for brown, "brown pink;" there
arc also other colours which are transparent,
which our correspondent may ascertain by trial :
put a small portion of each on a pidate, and with
line camel or sable hair pencils shade and colour
in your picture according to taste, judgment, and
th*^ rules of drawing and colouring; but thin
your colours with Canada balsam ; or, if that is
not procurable, good mastic varnish will answer
very well. Now, herein lies the whole mystery,
if there be any — it is the balsam or varnish whidi
gives it that beautiful transparent appearance.
In colouring your painting, lay it on a piece of
white paper, as the eflcct which it has on that will
be nearly the same as it will have on the screen.
This method of painting will answer for any kind
of picture ; but for simple figures they may be
outlined in the manner described, and then
coloured witli water colours, which is much
easier; but they must be afterwards varnished
with the above varuish. There is a method of
transferring engravings to gloss, but the process
is too lengthy to detail here. If our friend J. 6.
wishes to obtain Anther information upon tliis
or anything connected with the magic lantern, by
forwarding his address to the Editor, I will give
him any lie may require. — Bemuiundt.
€\t ^mi% Itnto niiir ^rittr's Slssistaut.
LOGIC CLASS.
^^ntite (m tlie Art of Reasoning.— No. XV.
I. WLat are the two diverse powers which tlie
^llectjon posaeases ?
1 What ia the ** use of the Syllogism" in the
^•cewy of new truths?
J. Vhat is the ** use of the Syllogism " in the
^'''cbpment of truths already known or newly
wspwed?
i Giie examples of both of these uses.
GRAMMAR CI^SS.
Extrcises in Grammar. — No. IV.
1- Prtpare a form like |he subjoined], and ar-
'*B)ee tlM foOowing nouns according to their
5. Mention cases in which the masculine and
feminine genders are applied to neuter objects,
and vice versa.
G. Give examples of nouns winch nrc bc:h
masculine and feminine.
Gkndkr.
.I'BBdoa, GeoTige, author, daughter, mistress,
•Piwha, poet, earl, father, house, ink, book, bull ,
^, pmdcr, nun, horse, goose, mother, cock,
"If ««ik, enpboard.
IVhaiia fender?
8. Hew aumj and what methods ore adopted
fatmiWMioB?
^ Aivt te feminine of George, Sultan, Czar,
Masculine.
Feminine.
N' ruler.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— III.
Arithmetic and Algebra.
Question 9. Let x-:area of pit in inches. Then
627*J01UO in.— x= ground that is to be covered with
cloy. But the ground to be covered x by depth of
clay = cub. iu. of cla^ required to cover the field ;
but this must=cub. \n. of clay dug out of pit.
.•.4;027264a0-x)=arxl44 .-. 14to =250905000
,'. C3lM6Me to. UH olritnli. 3|w. }id Iia(,iiiiluniBiiH[z,4 |i,iuid3|F-talh»*UMor
3fUM10BtiL F.D.B. Ihp irqulrad •iiuana, Iheu j*f fuBtiDa a" =
9u«.J«10. Vm™ of 1 o..=/3 1T..101J. lB^' + l.»*=*l»'--.--S»r. fi.U4r+*»+>»=
v>i'.Dricuti.rL>3'>N»TaxiTHe-/w<H2-eiM
J. B. L.
9>nlJoii S. Tbt vFiibl of t cubie foot of nUT
CLibia Itat.'ui-' t>i K ttir JiMliHa IVnn wUcli H
LKnii i/ (*t iV«Mi /op £iJr«t»M 1, j^ un rwnll will b
I* Aool.— Tbi )«■> DumlKr eoniiilfiii (ormnl by tbt cpgln
u.u Jgam it 10, wbOH MDond po»rr i« lO j,- ajooO will iriVd lug macun Duns sawn- oi
wbirh ii the liul uumbn Hmniung ot Ihr ^, taB-nt.
fliiint: .-. lhB»Mui)powa'«t«riTDiiral>iT«i uar»i50ii10x-B ,^,„^
•tuini of OH Hmin muu oooulii !«• ibu Ihr ^^ =3-077 bono psww. JM.
Uiit EWn b< uprcuad bj Ihna plus of flfon ' *' *'
iU Kcend po-R i> lOOOOBiailx 100, tbt Itt Qurillijn S. FniB tbr proptnj of Ibt Ittt.',
niuDber Uiit am bt mraKd b; irt plicvi ihu Ibc power wul wtlgfat wr Inicnclj u tbcir
fifutn ; .-. Itat Heoail povB ot > numim to dittuoo rrom tht (Ulmim. wt biig
J. K.L.
,«''""'mu™
ror Itat utukl mod*
pDinUog 1
.IT tl,. <lgur« 1
la pwiod. o( two «t
"i"iVi^^rtb
for tlim. .
»r tour figum
Inib'-^ndpTwcr.
,. tht rwl, *o.
, » Ibu the numher
p«rt..Ji'iD
.wl.eqnritDlh.nu]
bnofUfn.
TbtmeUiodofdouhlli
,d,p«.J.anU>.F<iur
)«ond Book 0
r Eutlkl. by whkb it
pfo.ed Ihi
rtt'o"-"'fc^l
mm U pjiwi 10 Mc »
qf (S' H°
oi^'^'^T^!/
(»t i«ru.«w«**riri
:'-.T'=t?LJ?"J':i>^.?,''.i,"f'.".'i^
s FOR BOLunos.— V.
AnUmtlie uui .t^ibnt.
1,2). uid tS deft reipKti'elf , oal on Cbriw-
. *|rttn. divide oiUwl
3, mAx'~^*=we,U
QuHinS. A KiUon or wu<r=977'n4 ei
Inaideoriilasi .phert. >ni) a77aj»+l=a7««
{~V^)=e0XX» iDcbn, ud tbt OQtBi
dit-neler of diKo-l^-^^gtoom in
wben ti't BapLut be^in*^
77!i. rrai 780771 ; lint U.firmtlO, nti
«M: lint1a,/>r.M'ta-»7.i>rl7«7IS,nid
:=a-J-l»i7, or IJWOM; ind Une 11, Ar»«,
d»i)v7. ln9aluiiinilIt.,uihonip,fttt(,
illjrtnrir.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "tHE ART OP Bli.VaOXIXO.*'
Xi VL— THE HISTORY AND STBUCTURE OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.
The dim magnificence of myth and legend generally overhangs and enshrouds the origin
'^ nsdoDi. ** £arth*s mighty yesterday ^ — ^Iiow many mysteries and uncertainties are yet
tntiolTed regarding it !
** Ghost-like amidst the anfamiliar Past,
Dim shadows flit along the stream of Time ;
Vainly our learning trifles with the vast
Uuknonm of ages ! "
Hov little can we learn, Trith accuracy, of the annals of oar race, even at periods long
^sbseqoe&t to the time when our forefathers trode
" The earliest furrovs on the mountain side,
Soft with the deluge ! "
Ti» childhood of nations is usually permitted to glide by with fc>7 of its events cn-
'esirtcmi in memory. The youth of humanity is passed more in action than in thought
—mn in an earnest atruggle for " the bread which perisheth,'* than in intellectual
^aitntmr. Hence, although circumstances, all-important in their consequences, may
^fleenxred in the hot smd lusty youth of our race, they^have been allowed to remain
» hog unnoticed, that when our attention is directed towards them we find the chief
enioKes oi their actuality
''Orergrown with black Oblivion's dust, "
Mi '^ Frfinrfffff iwMia obtcurtu,** * And even when the historian's pen or the poet^s
Q^iitie odea and degies are called in requisition, we too frequently find that the tale or
lytfan ii ail of heroes old arming for battle, or rushing headlong to the onslaught fierce
foi fi^ Tlus is most especially to be regretted,
" For in the mom and liquid dew of youth
Conta^n's blastmeuts are most imminent ; *'
^ this warriw-wnrBhip not only withdrew the mind from more pure and utile exertions,
^aho rendered men careless of recording those less remarkable, though far more im-
pvtat, oocurrences whioh lead to the advancement of humanity. The sources of in-
i^arding the real state of men in the world's youth are, therefore, scant and
and nqoiro to be read with all the keen minuteness of a critic. They consist, for
tk aist part, of moonmental inscriptions, art-relics, architectural remains, works of
skill, coins, songs, proverbs, sagas, and traditions. When we unlock tho
of ^ the world's gray fathers,'* it is true, we find some few casual and
of ** things as they were," which, with a few other fragmentary admi-
entble ns to construct an hypothetical histoiy which is, in its main
• •• From their excessive antiquity obscur?."— Li fy.
M
202 RHETORIC. — NO. ^^.
points, probably correct, bat which most of conrse varj in its exactness in proportion as
the facts which form the groundwork are intelligently presented to the investigation of the
Benson. To collate such facts as seem to us to bear npon " the History and Stractnre of
the English Langnage," is the chief purpose of the present paper; let as address oorselves
as briefly as possible to the task, and let as carefully notice whither the eridence
indubitably points.
One remark, however, we most premise regarding the Law of Evidence, viz., Evidence
is of two kinds, Eztemal and IniemaL Thefortner is, in general, the more obvious and
distinct — it breaks upon the view more readily, is more easily apprehensible, is more
superficial and more level to the general understanding ; the ItUter is more obscure and
intricate, farther removed from ordinary perception, and less readily attainable: the farmer
may be discerned, as it were, by the naked eye; the latter can only be discovered by
instruments of observation, skilfully adapted to the accomplishment of the given end.
Neither of these species of evidence a/ofie, however, can give absolute satisfaction to the '
mind; it is only when there is a concvr9Utfije.y a gradual tendency and oonvergenoe to the
same point, that the Intellect acknowledges that our reasonings are valid and our hypo-
theses consistent. Our readere will please bear this remark in remembrance, in order that
they may observe whether the facts and reasonings in this article falfil the conditions
above noticed.
It would lead us too far, and, indeed, would bring us to the discussion of topics verv
alien to the present subject, were we to attempt the unravelment of the intricacies of early
European Ethnography, and endeavour to decide dogmatically regarding the cirenmstuices,
times, places, &c., of the various migrations of the different tribes who peopled what is
now earth's most important continent. A slight and cursoiy sketch is all that we dare
Tenture. The natural multiplication and increase of the human race — the separation of
men into families and tribes — the gradual growth of nations — the selfish, predatory, and
warlike habits of the populations into which the race thus becomes detached — the little
care bestowed upon the culture of lands continually subject to inroad, pillage, and devas-
tation— the exsurgence of a redundant population — ^the oocuirence of casual famine —
nomadism — the hope of plunder and conquest — the thirst for stirring adv^tore — the
irksomeness of restraint and subordination^ the love of novelty — contests between oppressors
and oppressed, &c., may all be mentioned as predisposing causes to the dispersion of naAn-
kind, while change of situation, climate, mode of life, state of society — ^the riew of iievt
objects — the knowledge of new products — ^the origination of new pursoita — the blendiac:
of different fiimilies and tribes by migration, or their subordination by war, &c^ and the
consequent introduction of new thoughts and norel forms of expression, may be mentiosMOi
as among the causes instmmental in producing changes of languages. From aoine o£ th«
above-mentioned causes, either singly or oombinedly, that vast series of migmtions, vrfaich
from century to century continued to be made from the interior of Asia into the ooDtxnezi!
of Europe, most probably took its rise. As horde after horde departed vrilUnglj, or yfren
driven off involuntarily, from that great hive of hunumity, each necessarily attonpted t
dislodge the prior occupants in order to secure a lococation for itself. There waa a ftartii^
temptation to this, also, in the prospect of appropriating the dwellings, cultivated sc^l, ^c
of the pioneer hordes to themselves. Keen, keen indeed, must have been these coTit^rsI
RHETORIC. — NO. VI. 203
betveoi innwlen and invaded. In general, however, the assailantg succeeded in effecting »
settlement, either bj treatj or bj oosiqaest, until at last the whole surface of the con-
timt of Europe reaoonded with the ham of bnsj populations. The most remarkable
of thcM immigrational expeditions we shall now cursorily indicate : —
L About the jear b.c. 2000, the Celts* passed from Upper Asia into Europe, and
peopled the territones Ijing south and west of the Dannbcf
II. About B.C. 1800, the Pelasgi, under Inachus, proceeded, most probably, from a
country bordering upon the Euphrates to the islands and coasts which lay opposite to Asia
Minor; but subsequently crossed over to Italy, Crete, and the adjacent islands.
IIL The Hellenes, consisting of the Achaians, iEoIians, Dorians, and lonians, who
^e tbe Pelasgi before them and occupied their settlements upon the borders of the
Archipelago.
IV. About B.a 15d2, Cecropa led a colony from Sals, in Egypt, and founded Athens.
V. Cadmus, about B.C. 1519, came from Phoenicia and colonized Thebes, in Boeotia.
VI. An Egyptian ooloay arrived in Argos, under the leadership of Danaus, about b.c.
1500.
VIL An influx of population — supposed to have originally emigrated from the regions
ofTirtaiy — known in Greek lit^ature under the general designation of Scythians, is
flnlinarily referred to the seventh or eighth century b.c, although it is more probable that
MWal dJatlnet odonies successively appeared, and contested with their forerunners the
poMssion of the soil. Of these there would seem to hare been various tribes ; among others
■S7 be mentioned the Getie, the Massagetas, the Sauromatss, the Unni, &c ; the ancestors
mpeetively of the Ostrogoths in Italy, the Visigoths in Spain and Portugal, the Mcesia-
Gitbi in Gennany, Norway, and Sweden, the Sarmatians or Sclavonians in Russia, Poland,
Bakemia, kc^ the Huns in Hungary, &c. X
TIIL From the eastern side of the Sea of Asoph, under the command of Odin or Woden,
ikut BX. 24^ another Gothic people proceeded across the Straits of Kafia, through the north-
*itt of Europe, and onwards to the countries bordering on the Baltic, part remaining there,
vUt another portioo, crossing the Cattegat, entered the Scandinavian peninsula.
Of course it is easy to see, that, as each invading colony advanced, the former inhabitants
iKt Tcmoive, and hence that the earliest colonists would be pushed most neariy to the
ntnoutics of the continent, and so we find history recording. But it is also evident that
tlttt isolated tribes would soon learn that security from gradual extinction could only be
Mttaed by mntoal ud,. while this, very isolation would be the surest guarantee of the
■Keui ef the amlritions; thus there would arise two causes for the interfusion of tribes
"-Ut Treaty; Snd. Conquest. These successive interfusions would necessitate changes
■iBodificatiaos of Language, and hence would originate those differences of speech which
^n the primal fixmtains of our English tongue. The extensive power wielded by Greece
9i BoBBe sneeetfiTely, and the magnificent system of colonization which they adopted,
ffom mkrm, woodsnen, eonneeted with Welsh celt, a covert or shelter, and Latin eelo, I hide.
♦ Hswdsfi, beak iv. eap. 4tf.
^^ forlaftinBatfon, so Aor •• to be found in (be ancient writen on the origin of the Scythians, Me
■MiNaip took H-.:— 1st, for the Scythians' own tale of their origin, cap. v.— viii. ; Snd, for tbe
Waiof tfha Oiealfi near tbe Black Sea, cap. riiL— z. ; 3rd, for the commonly received opinion iu
■* iM flfHaieiletiis,0M> siw— ziiL ; 4th, for the opinion of the poet Arisieaa ot Vrocoannvoa \— vSaa
««« |Mnl 4BeilioD,7ailkdns, Itook it, and PMj.
204 hhetoric. — no. vi.
would, in part, tend to lessen these diversities; so that for all practical purposes we majr
regard the languages of Europe at, or about, the invasion of Britain (b.c. 55), as divisible
into three great classes, which, with their principal subsequent sub-divisions, may be
expressed tabularly thus: —
I.Celtic. 2, Gothic. 3, Classical.
Basque, Gaelic, Welsh, Irish, Hussion, Saxon,Dutch,Gennaii, Greek, Latin, Italian,
Cornish, Amorican, Sec. Danish, Swedish, Belgic, &c. French, Spanish, Poitaguese, &c.
Having brought into one view the state of the European languages at this era, we shall
forsake the discursive dissertation in which we have been indulging, and present our
readers with a condensed synopsis of the chief, fiicts relative to the History of the English
Language.
1st. The earliest inhabitants of this country were Celts.
The proofs of this are — (a) the names of the chief natural permanent objects in our
country retain Celtic names, as, Avorij a river or stream ; Bala^ the issue of a river, e^.,
Bala in Wales, Balloch in Dunbartonshire, Scotland; Ken or Ceon, a head or end, eg.,
Kent; Ta, what expands, e.g , Tay, Taraar, Thames, &c.; (6) a diligent comparison of the
Celtic tongues spoken in Scotland, Ireland, Wales, the Isle of Man, Brittany, in France,
and the 6iow extinct) language of Cornwall — little or no material difference is found among
them; (c) the testimony of Caesar (Commentaries, books iv. and v.), Tacitus (Agricola), &c.
2nd. On the 26th August, 55 B.C., this country was invaded by Julius Csesar, and
remained for upwards of 400 years a province of Some.
This is proved — (a) by Caesar's own account of the conquest; (6) by numerous allusions
to that conquest: — i., in the letters of Cicero; ii., in the contemporary poets; iii., in the
writings of Strabo, Diodorus, Siculus, &c. ; iv., in the Agricola of Tadtus ; v., in the works
of the christian fathers; vi., on inscriptions and coins of that time; vii., in the panegyrics
of Eumenius and Libanius, as well as in the writings of one or two of the minor historians
of Rome;* (c) by the remnants of their language yet to be found in the names of places,
&c., e.g.f Lindi Colonia — Lincoln; all those« names of places ending in Chester^ caster^ or
cester, as Dorchester, Lancaster, Leicester; as well as all those ending in teicky as Gxven-
wich, &c. ; {d) by the accounts of the decline of the Roman power.
This last circumstance led to the withdrawal of the troops from the extremities of the
world-empire, their concentration in or near Rome, the weakening of the distant colonies and
dependencies, and, consequently, to their being left a ready prey to incursion and conquflst
Having learned to lean upon the arm of foreign power for support, when this aid was
withdrawn they felt themselves nerveless and impotent The Celts, who had been pent
up in the mountain fastnesses, yet unsubdued, eagerly sought to widen their territorial
possessions, while from the coast-lands <hi the opposite shore, a series of pirmte-tribes
threatened invasion. Not long after, the swift war-barks of the sea-kinga — their magic
raven ensign, woven in one night by three maiden encantrices, floating in the wind-
ploughed the seething foam and landed their fierce forces on our shores; lance, axe, spear,
bow, shields, and helm-crests are seen in one mingled maze; the demoniac shouts of war
are heard. Then follow in quick succession the onslaught, the battle shriek — spears
crashing like crisp ice-spars on the ribs of steel-clad war-men — the thunder clangor of
* For tb09e aatboritieB qooted at Adl length, see " History of the Aneicnt Britons, fton tbb
SMrUegt Period to tbe Invasion of the Saxons;* By B«t. } . A. QOes, D.C.L.
RUBTORIC. — KO. VI. 205
the hom — ^thc groan of the dying — the maddening fury of despair — and the glory-flag of
the Tictor invaders waves over our ocean island. The stark fight terminates; orer many
a braTe body — left on the field to the " black raven and the croaking toad, the eagle
hungering after flesh, the greedy kite and the wild wolf of the woods** — is the heart's dirge
nog by the beautiful. But soberer topics lie before us. We delight not in the hell-cry
of Watishness which resounds from the battle-field. We love not the music of clanging
inns, the rush of mutual slaughter, the groan of the death-victim, or the wild wail of
vQman*8 grief-riven soul. Therefore shall we throw a veil over those hideous scenes of
blood, nor look again upon the grim and ghastly spectacle presented by the gore-dewed
£eli To proceed.
3nl After the decline of the Roman empire, Britain was invaded, at several periods, by
cerUin tribes of Gothic descent, and taken possession of by them.
The particular tribes who took part in these successive invasions have never been pro-
ptrlj discriminated, nor has the portion of the continent from which they proceeded been
acfantdy defined. It is now most generally believed that the Holstein, Frcsian, Swedish,
ukI Xorw^ian tribes were among the chief — that (the present Duchy of) Holstein was
dirided among three Saxon tribes — that north of them, in (the present Duchy of) Schles-
vig, dwdt the Angles — that to the west of Schleswig, op|)06ite the island of North Strand,
the inhabitants were Friesiaus, and that the tribe of the Jutes had never any real txistence.
Tbe Ssxons, then, using the word in its most extensive sense, may be said to have inliabitcd
all the coasts of the Elbe, the North Sea, and the Baltic. The position evidently prc-
oispottd them to a piratical mode of life. Thus we find that even when Britain was a
Soman province, the depredations of these pirate tribes were so conmion, that the Romans
organized a fleet to cruise along the Saxon shore (JLittut Saxonicum); but these fleets
toe noanned by parties of the same race, who were rewarded for their marine services
*ith grants c^ strips of land along-that coast. When, however, the Roman power declined,
the fl«et was withdrawn, and the North Sea was again frequently ploughed by Saxon kculs,
ffid the shores of Britain were again frequently made tributary to the necessities of these
ncH. But, tempted by the richness of the country, pressed by an increased population,
uid intpired with the love of conquest, successive colonists landed upon our " nook-shotten
ishad." Regarding the {articular periods of these influxes of conquerors, there is some
iE|^t disagreemfent; for our own part we believe that these went on gradually, and that
coij the more important and striking have been mentioned or recorded. Indeed, the most
ngWQQs criticism fails to dispel the obscurity in which the whole is involved ; but the
fBMtal &ct admits of no question, viz., that a continuous influx of Gothic, t.e., Germanic,
trSMs poured into the country, gradually gained the ascendant, and gave to the country
ther Dame, language, laws, and customs. So far, however, as modem researches have been
Rxttntful in uncloudiag the matter, the following statements present a concise outline : —
(«) About the year 449 A.D., a band, said to be Jutes, but most probably Friesians, under
^ kidershipof two brothers, Hengist and Horsa, landed at Ebbsfleet, in the Isle of Thanct,
is Kent In about six years after that period they had acquired the mastery of that
^'(VBty, and had established the kingdom of Kent The British Celtic was thus first dis>
^*oti \j the Saxon in Kent. (6) About a.d. 477, a Saxon colony, commanded by Ella,
^Mked i^oa th* coot of, what is now called, Sussex, and established themselves per-
"ttcotly ia thrt comitj. (o) About the jear A.v, 495, a ttcond Saxon VaiTcC\^QX\^Xi
206 RHETORIC. — ^KO. VI.
headed bj Cerdic, entered England on the cout of Hampshire, ((f) The year 530 A.D.,
is said to have witnessed the descent of a third Saxon colony upon that part of thecoantry
now denominated Essex. By a gradoal extension of power, influence, and popaktioo, the
Saxons spread themselres oyer, and became masters of, those portions of Englsnd now
represented by the names Sussex, Hampshire, IXmet, Wilts, Gloucester, Oxford, Berks,
Buckingham, parts of Somerset, Devon, and Sarrey, Essex, Middlesex, and part of Hert-
ford. The so-called Jates were already in possession of Kent and the Isle of Whit^^wbence,
probably, they were called Jutes, (e) While Cerdic reigned in Wessex, a settlement was
effected on the coasts of Norfolk and Suffolk. These were AngUt^ and the peculiar
dialect of the Gothic which they introduced has been called the Anglic, They afterwards
extended their possessions to Cambridge, parts of Lincoln and Northampton, besides the
Isle of Ely. (/} About a.d. 547, under Ida, a colony from AngUa landed on that part of
the coast of Scotland which lies between the Forth and Tweed, spread gradually over all
the south-eastern counties of Scotland, as well as over Northumberland, Westmoreland,
Cumberland, Lancashire, York, Cheshire, Nottingham, and the other North Midland
shires. Thus we have seen nearly the whole surface of the land iuTaded and conquend,
reft from the original Celtic population, who were ultimately compelled to betake them-
selves to the rocky fastnesses of the North of Scotland and the West of England, and th«n
began that interfusion of peoples and of speech, which resulted in the production of the
Anglo-Sairon tongue.
We have already intonated that we do not believe that the traditional accounts of tbe
above-mentioned invasions are remarkably accurate in their chronology; we are rather
inclined to believe that they had, even from an early period, been in the habit of landing on
our coast-island and our barren beach-tracts, and that having occupied these settlements
for some time the retirement of the Romans seemed to fiicilitate aggression and invite
conquest. Several intennediate changes took place during the succeeding years, not
exactly relevant to our subject, though bearing upon it Mention of these we must,
however, omit, and direct attention to the most important event which next occnrred. In
A.D. 806 a politic Bretwalda governed Wessex and Sussex; becoming amUtious, he began
to sigh for wider domains and more extended rule. He overcame Kent in a.d. 819,
Essex in a.d. 824, and went on in his triumphant career, until in a.d. 828 he raised his
throne upon the ruins of the Octarchy, and was proclaimed king of aU England. This
sovereign's name was Egbert. By this process of consolidation and identification the dif-
ferent laws, customs, languages, &c., were fused into a certain degree of sameness. This
was the morning dawn of Anglo-Saxon literature, one of the esrliest of modem Europe.
It is divided into three periods: — i., British-Saxon, from a.d. 449 to 867; ii., Danish-
Saxon, from A.D.867 to 1066; iii., Norman-Saxon, from a.d. 1066 to 1272. It is a tran-
sition literature, but one of nobleness and worth.
4th. This fact is not introduced exactly in its chronological order becanse it has been,
in its boieficial influence, co-extensive with all future time — we refier to the introdnction
of Christianity. There are considersble discrepancies among the traditional aceoonts of
this remarkable event. Some place it so eariy as between aj>. 48 and 61. We know,
however, that several Christians, of whom St Albans, of Vemlamimn, was the first,
suffered martyrdom about a.d. 286. Then we have the Pelagian heresy, originated by a
British monk, named Morgan, about a.d. 424. Afterwards we have the nuBslan of
RHETORIC. — ^HO. VI. 207
Anputln and fortj monkB — sent hither bj Pope Gregory I., suniamed the Great — who
landed io the Ide of Thanet, a.d. 596. The first British church was built of wood hy
Paolimis in Northmnbria, a.d. 627. As the serrices of the church were conducted in
Lidn, and all literary compositions were at this date written in that language, as also the
daef miMiooaries most have ccnne from some part of the old empire of liome, thej most
nMOMxilj b*Te apoken that tongne It would, therefore, appear that a considerable
iofbsioa of Latin must have been introduced into the Anglo-Saxon tongue, «.^., monk,
taifit, pealtcr, purple, epistle, febrifuge, porch, &c, respectively from monachut, sanctus,
j^akenumy pufjmroj epittola^/ebrifuga^ porticus^ 4^.
5th. As we learn from the Saxon Chronicle, *' the first ships of Danish men who sought
the land of the English race '' appeared in a.d. 787. " From this era,'* remarks Sir James
Mariittosb, " the Danes became the incessant foes of Britain, visiting every part of the
island with fire and sword." In a.d. 867 they had conquered the greater part of England
DffUiQf the Hnmber; subsequently they acquired the Midland counties; they next advanced
towBidi Korfoik, Suffolk, and Cambridge, and became masters there ; lastly, they invaded
Weaaex, the king of which was at that time looked upon as lord paramount of the whole
cmntry. In AJ>. 878 King Alfred gladly concluded a treaty with Guthrum, their chief,
hf which he oeded to the Danes all the land upon the east coast, from the Uumber to
the Thames, besides the kingdom of Northumbria. This was subsequently called the
I^lagh^ In A.D. 1013, Sweyn, king of Denmark, conquered all England, and the crown
Roaioed with his descendants till a.d. 1042. Speaking of this period, Thierry says: —
''The loog>accumulatcd sufferings of the Saxons at length produced their fruit. On the
<Seath of JBardicanute, a great insurrectionary army was formed, under the command of a
iader named Howne. Godwin and his son Harold raised the standard of independence
i> ereiy eounty against every Dane — king or claimant, chief or soldier. Beaten back
npidlj to the north, driven from town after town, the Danes left the country, and landed
T^reatly diminished in numbers — on the shores of their old country, a.d. 1039-40.*'
Bat the strange drama of British invasion is not yet ended, fur,
6th. In A.D. 1066 England was conquered by the Normans — a Danish race, who, under
Kolf, or JBoQo, invaded the north of Franco about the same time as the Danes began to
^erapj Britain. In aj>. 912 Charles, sumamed the Simple, ceded to them a tract of land
todar the name of Normandy, and over that they ruled as dukes of Normandy. There
^ in a great measure exchanged their ancient dialect for the Latino-Francic tongue, then
«pflken m France, and which formed the derivative- source of the present French. The
«k«Dge introdoccd by this conquest was very great— the king, the nobles, the lawyers,
tht ehofchmen, the monks, and the soldiery, all spoke the Normanic French, and these
tttanllj sought to spread that language among subjects, retainers, serfs, clients, pro-
idftca, papils, &c. For a time, therefore, the Normanic French " mightily grew and
ptVYailed." A subsequent influence, which tended still more to aid the propagation of the
Fnoch tongne, was the marriage of Henry II. to Eleanor of Poitou, by which the
ughfeh lung became master of Poitou and Guienne, as well as bis patrimonial estates,
^jou, Haine, and Touraine, together with his dukedom of Normandy. To a great
<^t, at this period, most Britain have been amalgamated with the rest of Europe, if
*« fflmidg the intimate connexion which its sovereigns had with France, and its clergy
*>^ fiouM. Tst it is » singular fact that the native Anglo-Saxcm did tmA. ^\v!c^'{
208 RnETOWc. — xo. vr.
succumb to these adverse inflaeuces, bat that the language of the conquerors give place,
in a great measure, to the speech of the conquered ; so much so, that about the year 1270
a new form of language — an interfusion of all those afore-mentioned influences — emerged,
tinder the denomination of the English Language. To give a brief summary we have
fused together — Ist The original Celtic. 2nd. The Latin of the first period. 3rd. The
Gothic, from six sources, each most probably slightly differing from the other. 4th. The
Latin of the second period. 5th. Another form of Gothic, through the Danes. 6th. (a)
The Latin of the third period, derived from the courts of law, and the church, from fashioa
and chivalry. (6) The indirect Latin of the Xormanic French and the Provencal
French of Poitou and Guienne. (c) The indirect Danish of the Normanic French.
7th. The Latin and Greek of literature, science, and philosophy. From all these facts —
the external history of the people — put together, we learn thai the English Language
is a composite one ; i.e., one made up from various sourceSy not pure and self-sufficing ^ btd
derived from^ and combined out of many diverse tongues.
Let us now trace, as succinctly as possible, how far the internal evidence coincides witli
these external facts. 1st. It is evident, we think, that as the Normanic French and the
Provcnfal, as well as the Lntin and Greek, were introduced by external agencies, and
were not the outgrowths of the national mind, the words derived therefrom would be lets
commonly used by the main body of the people. 2ud. That the Saxon, Danish, Anglic,
and Normanic, being more nearly akin, would more readily coalesce, and bo more
commonly employed as the embodiment of thought. 3rd. That as Saxon -and its kin-
tongues formed the language of the commonalty, the terms in most frequent use should be
of Saxon origin. 4th. That as the mutual communication of thought could only be
made by parties, the construction of whose languages differed, by the disisegard of gram-
matical forms, there should be gi-adually evolved a language comparatively loose in its
grammatical inflections and syntactical relations. 5th. That as the Saxons wert
descended from a fierce people, dwelling iu gloomy woods — on barren beach- tracts^or
ravening like sea-wolves the coasts of others — ^the language should be expre2»sive, curt,
harsh, direct, and pointed. Such indeed it was, such among the lower classes it is. In
literature, however, the sturdy, stalwart, taciturn, emphatic Saxon, has been mingled with
the philosophy and poetry of the Greeks, the civilization of Bome, the chivalry of southern
Europe, the melody of Italy, the stateliness of Spain, the epigrammatism of France, the
suffusive beauty of oriental nations, and the religion of Palestine. It is a rude stem,
bearing on its branches fruits of every clime. A few observations will make the above
points apparent, (a) The Anglo-Saxon is for the most part monosyllabic, and remark-
ably expressive — e.g., stabj stare, start, rap, jeer, sneer, queer, quirk, Jerk, crash, tmoAy
rash, ttcirl, svnrl, crag, shriek, scale, scream, lijl,swifl, quench, growl, grunt, ^. (6) From
the Anglo-Saxon almost all words denotive of — 1st. Objects of sense — e.g., skg, sua^ starsy
moon, frost, cold, snow, hail, hill, stream, earth, thunder, sea, cfc.
" Bocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death."— Milton.
2nd. Belationships — e.g., father, mother, brother, sister, son, daughter, husband, wife,
child, kin, friend, ^. 3rd. Feelings and their manifestations — e.g., smile, love, bhsh,
sigh, weep, tear, laugh, gladness, shame, cfc. 4th. Common actions— e.g., rtm,jump, leap,
^/fjf, icifU', Jprus^, sprawl^ crawl, slide, creep, talk, rfc. 5th. Hom« objecta— eg., jCnetufe
miETORIC. — NO. VI. 209
hoae^ keart&f fvof, boardy teaiy (fc. 6th. Business matters — e.g., shopj shoe, shear, farm,
fM^ Qcrt, angle, bargain, borrow, toed, wayer, bake, brew, cfteapen, craft, worth, worh,
jceowj truck, traffic, ricJi, price, prize, penny, moil, luck, master, ^. 7th. Satirical
expessions — e.g., scraggy, scum, scoff, knave, scrank, paltry, grasping, grovel, cajole,
hoa^, ckurl, cumnudgeon, drab, JUnd, gabby. Jabber, gawky, gaunt, grubicorm, haggler,
v:Qtfitk, twit, trash, termagant, sleeky, shabby, nmwbish, lacky, lazy, tfc. 8th. Particulars
as opposed to generals — e.g., green, blue, red, yellow, black, white, brown, gray, ^c, arc
Ai^lo-Saxoo; coloar, is Latin; hum, hiss, howl, growl, bark, buzz, rustle, rattle, roar, low^
anc, f^fueak, creak, clash, clang, <fc., are Anglo-Saxon; sound, is Latin ; jink, clap,
washer, skip, yawn, spurn, wriggle, skim, dart, stagger, squirt, squint, <fc., are Anglo-
ISaon; more and motion, are Latin; dog, cat, rat, cow, hen, pig, bull, horse, deer, fox,
90^, mole, weasel, are Anglo-Saxon ; animal, is Latin, (c) The English Language has
the fevest inflections and the least number of syntactical rules of anj of the chief
modem languages of Europe. . (d) The Anglo-Saxonizcd English is most popular with
the illiteiate— «.^ , the works of Bunjan, De Foe, Goldsmith, Cobbett, and Swift. The
niddle-Eogliab, %.e., nearly equally Saxon and Latin, is most popular with the middle
cIiMw ejf^ Thomson, Cowper, Wordsworth, Scott. The Latinized- English is most
popoUr with the higher classes, who, having had their classical tastes cultivated, and their
^Boeiations led in that direction, are best able to appreciate the beauties of such writing.
We think, then, that the consursus of evidence is complete — that the external history and
Jatwnal facts of the Language agree in proving its composite nature.
We have traced, as carefully as we were able, the source-fonts of our Language ; we
hire marked out their points of confluence, and we have partly indicated its present
^th, depth, and power. We saw it first issuing, as it were, from a few almost unnoticed
Jpriags, far up in the seldom-climbed hills — coursing on its unobtrusive way — troubled in
its depths by torbolcnt onrushings from other streams — gradually combining their waters
^ its own, then rolling onwards in stately majesty. Looking at the Language as it
■wr ii, we must not expect that symmetricality and uniformity which belongs to an
*£fice fanned by an architect and built by successive artizans under his superintendence.
S* ! When we consider the ten thousands of labourers to whom we owe its erection — the
ttjmd changes originating in fancy, caprice, accident or necessity, which were made in
igunnce or heedlessness of all rule — we ought rather to feel astonished at the wondrous
MBBftencj which marks a structure eliminated from such an apparently fortuitous
CM^omeration of heterogeneous materials, than to be disappointed in not finding a strict,
itody, onswerving adherence to general principles. This observation seems to account
fcr the many irregularities in etymological structure and syntactical arrangement, which
Vpeatr to make the study of the Language difficult.
Had wt had space, a brief view of early English Literature would have tended much to
tke mbstantiation of the facts above narrated, but as we have gone abroad through
sack a width of field, let us now proceed to answer the question hovering upon our
rasdoi' Kp8 — What utile application can be made of the knowledge of these facts, in so
fiv « the study of Bhetaric is concerned ? Without attempting or pretending to exhaust
tibe snigect, W9 msj, we think, deduce from what has been related, the following lessons,
tAieh eogiit to hjiT« a dose relation to " Style," viz. : —
IsL TfatI » Angto-Ssxon terms denote almost all natural objcctft, aTV t^boiSA \Vvw^&
210 KHBTORIC— »0. VI.
which are dear to the heart, all feelings and emotioos, &c., the staple of a style intended
to be plain, easily understood, and level to the capacities of the mass, should oonsiat
chiefly of Anglo-Saxon rocables.
2nd. That in a language combined from so many sources there must be maoy seeming^
synonymes, but (a) As each of these languages was introduced at a different stage of ciTiliza*
tion, even in words of the same general signification slight variations will be found — e.^.,
choose, from Saxon ceosan ; select, from Latin m, aside, and lego, to pick out; prefer, from
Latin pre, before, and ^ero, to carry; are all connected in the one general signification of
option: but chooK means to pick out in accordance with our mil; seUct^ to pick out for a
special purpose with due regard to appropriateness; prefer, to pick out in accordance with
ihs judgment; as ''A man may telect his wife for her beauty, choose her for her wealth, and
prefer her for the amiability of her disposition." (6) T?ro terms for exactly the self-same
idea cannot long subsist; for as the mind progresses and becomes more acute, it perceives
differences unobserved before; hence the two words become differentiated to answer the
exigencies of the mind-^eu/., anxiety and anguish, though from the same Greek root,
ayxa to vex, both signify distress of mind, but anxiety implies oontinuitg, while aqguish
implies intenaitg. (c) One of the synonymes noay have a greater aptitude for impressing
the mass, hence it will be used with a licence and latitude of meaning, while the other,
being employed only by the learned, shall retain its restrictedness — t,g., act, action, deed;
the two former from Latin ago, to do, the last £rom the past tense of do, have etymo-
logically the self-same signification, and are so used at present among the common people;
but among the learned they are thus distinguished — ad, a single extraordinary effort;
action, continued exertion; deed, continued exertion completed.
3rd. In consequence of this copiousness of expression, this possession of duplicate terms,
there can be no excuse for poverty of language or baldness of expression, while at the 6am<
time the shades of connoted meaning superadded to the denotation of these terms, shoolij
form a strong argument for a careful, critical, laborious, and attentive study of word^
in order that precision and perspicuity may be acquired.
4th. That it is not only possible, but necessary, to adapt our style to a subject, but alai
to adapt our style to the class whom we intend to address.
5th. That force, expressiveness, sincerity, plainness, heartiness, homeliness and passion
rousing fire may be imparted to style by the use of Anglo-Saxon. Stateliness, copioasnesj
grace, melody, refinement, and elegance, may be gained by the use of Latin. Smartiiesj
primness, compliment, archness, abtxndon, diplomatic reserve, from the French ; as
philosophic accuracy, scientific clearness, from the Greek.
6th. That a priori the style which most nearly approximates to the due said pro^
employment of each — ».«., the using of them with equal ease and thorough mastery <
, fit occasions and in just degree, is the best
We are fully conscious of the inadequacy of our present effort to do justice to o
subject. We feel that it is unworthy of being called even an outline, instead of a bistc
— want of space has precluded us from tracing so clearly as we desired, the action a
reaction of each Language on the other. We perceive that we have given no criterion
the parts the commixture of which each Language supplied. We believe, however, tliat ^
intelligent readers will find their way through the labyrinth of causes, and clea
discriminate ther eflfects. In our future articles « On Style," further elucidations
cur CHKI8TIAVS BKMDKR SUPrOBT TO THE BRITISH BTAOB?
211
tbe$e pouts will be fomid; mouiwhilA we most take our le&re, saying with Word»-
* In onr balls ire hong
Amomy of the invincible knights <^ old.
W« must be IkM, or die, who speak the tongne
That Sbakspcare spoke, the ^th and morals bold
That Milton held. In ertrj thing we're spning
or earth's best blood— hare titles manifold."
T« ikoee who mmj be deslions of pursning the stody of this snbieet Aulher, the following collation
if Mil 111 aha maj be oaaftd. viz., " Onllinesof the Historrof the Engliah Laagnage;* by 6. L. Craik ;
^Stcttkes of fte History of Literature and Learning in England," by G. L. Craik ; ** The English
Ittnace," by R. 6. Latham ; Tadtns' " 6ennauia,'^by R. 0. Latham ; J. H. Hippisler's " Chapters
CB tmf ffnji!**** Litentore"; Hairison's ** Kse, Progress, and Preeeut Stmeture of the English
r ; HaOam's ** Inanodnotion to the Literstnre of Eoiope " ; R. H. Home's " Introdu^oiy
hm: piefixed to" Chancer Modernised," by Wordsworth, Leigh Hunt, &c. ; Shaw's '* Outlines of
iatfisb Lilcntare'*; Wanton's "History of English Poetry"; Sharon Tuin«;r's *' History of the
Afiel'vSaxsBa,'* and " History of Enf^d daring the Middle Ages " ; Lappenbem's " England under
tse Is^Saaon Kxnga " ; Palgrave s ** History of the Anglo-Saxons " ; Kemble^s ** Saxons in Eng-
^mi'; Piishwd's "Eastern Origin of the Celde Nations*'; Rer. J. Boswoith's "Anglo-Saxon
DictkaBy/'and ** An^lo-Saxon Grammar" ; Rev. J. G. Giles* *' History of the Ancient Britons, from
te Eir&est Period to the Invasion of the Saxons " ; Hallam's " View of the State of Europe m the
'Hjtory of dw English Churrii ; Godwin's ** Life of Chaucer. ' We might easily multiply autho-
^' I. bin a ttoroi^ perusal of these works wHl ftimish, in onr opinion, a very oomplete view of the
Heligira.
CAS CHRISTIANS, CONSISTENTLY WITH THEIR PRINCIPLES, RENDER
SUPPORT TO THE BRITISH STAGE ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
** For lofty sense,
iitakn hotf, mtad iuqiection keen,
rWti the deq> windings of the human heart,
I* cat vdd Sbaltqware thine and nature's boast?"
Thomsow.
Ii vieUiDg the pen in rapport of the
Braab itage, and iu claims to the sym-
1*^ aad prtrooage of the British pablic,
1 ibtl pr^er adopttog the view taken by
C.T. Jbil, in his aitide of the April num-
^—m., the eswntiil effects of the stage;
f^ soea the hoooar and character of this
'3BitetiMi is at stake in this oontroveny,
^ Bay ia jnstaoe claim to treat it thns;
^'^wut «e shoold have no fitir materials
*^vvtith to enter the oomhat with onr
IfttcBts, for we cannot ahnt onr eyes to
^ ^imm and objections which exist in the
1**^ theatna ii the metropolis, contain-
H' tt they do, so arnch that is foreign to
^ tna end and aim of the drama. There
imUt! too mnch for just criticism and con-
demnation. The productions of the modem
anthors are often flimsy, artificial, and al-
together worthless, and even in their repre-
sentation too mnch attention and care is
giren to effects in scenery, by which the
spirit of the drama is greatly weakened and
enerrated, and the theatrical piece is de-
prived of that peculiar influence over the
mind which it onght to possess. We can-
not, therefore, attempt to advocate the
efficacy of the British stage of the present
day, either in justice to ourselves or to that
of the modem drama, but onr endeavour
must be to prove that the essential eflkcts of
the English stage, in the performance of the '
legitimate drama, are not at variance with
the high moral aims of Christianity.
Taldng, then, that mighty genius, Shak*
speare, the dramaUc poet of the English, as
the representative of the English stage, I
will endeavour to prove that the representa-
tion of his productions, with the actifidal
212
CAN CHxasnAsrs, cossistkntlt with theib principles,
assuUDce of soenery, &c., are in their efiSscts
highly beDeficial and efficacions in promoting
the sacred aims of Christianity. And though
my opponents may he inclined to quarrel
trith this, I contend most earnestly that he
may he taken as its representative, for before
he arose, the modem or English drama was
formed after the models of old Greece and
Borne, and since his time no writer of any
great pretensions to the tragic muse has
arisen to pluck the laurels from his brow.
'' Aristides" has indeed brought serious
charges against the stage, and has struck at
its foundations, but they are at the same time
bold ones, and incapable of being proved.
Let us proceed, then, to investigate them,
and see how far they will support his
views.
In the first place, he asserts "that the
stage is not a representation of society, and
has no counterpart except in the mind of
the author." Now, if it can be proved that
the personages and characters brought before
the audience in all the eloquent language of
the poet, and represented by all the bewitch-
ing and consummate skill of the actor, do
not fairly represent the general passions of
men, but are only the exaggerated fantabies
of the author's brain, then indeed must the
stage be robbed of its claim to instruct in
morals and philosophy, and cannot but be
the medium for corrupting the hearts and
minds of the people, inasmuch as it must
give them false views of life, and impair
their judgment in discerning good from evil,
virtue from vice. But it is not so. The
business of the drama is to excite sym-
pathy, and its effect on the spectator depends
on such justness of imitation as shall cause
to a certain degree the same passions and
affections, as if what were exhibited were
real, and in order to affect this the characters
and events introduced must reaarJble in
truthfulness the patterns from whence they
arc copied. It is addressed to the imagi-
nation, through which it opens to itself a
communication with the heart, where it is
* to excite certain passions and affections;
each diaraiter being personated, and each
event exhibited, the attention of the
audience is greatly captivated, and the
imagination so far assists in the delusion as
to sympathize in the representation. To the
muse c^ tragedy Pope has therefore assigned
the noble task —
*' To wake the soul by lender strokes of art.
To raise the genius, and to mead the heart ;
To make mankind in conscious virtue bold,
Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold.**
It has been pointed out by a preinons
writer, what a vast superiority represen-
tation or action has over bare narration;
what a power the stage has to raise the
sympathy of the spectator, and from ih&t
strong- working sympathy, how the passions
are agitated, and catch the enthusiasm of
the author. It is as a moral philosopher
that Aristotle gives the preference, above all
other modes of poetic imitation, to tragedy,
as capable of purging the affections, by the
means of pity and terror. The first en-
deavour of the poet should be to touch the
heart, the next to mend it.
Who will assert that the persons and cha-
racters introduced into the plays of Sbak-
spebre are counterfeit, and bear no resem-
blance to the minds and characters of per-
sons we meet with in our intercourse with
the world? His greatest art was the beau-
tiful and sublune, but no less trnthfol, man-
ner in which he expresses the vehement
passions, a manner in which no writer in
any age ever equalled him. His talentj
were universal, his penetrating mind sy.%
through all characters; and, as Pope says oi
him, he was not more a master of ou]
strongest emotionsthan of our idlest sensations)
To take an instance of his genius i]
delineating characters from the play o
Macbeihy as that has been mentioned
This piece is, perhaps, one of the greates
exertions of the tragic and poetic powef
that any age or any country has prodaceij
and is one most conducive to the grei
end and aim of tragedy, viz., to brin«; \h
mind, by the operation of pity and terra
to such a lively perception of the grej
agonies and tortures of a guilty conscienc
and the terrible consequences that folio
wicked actions, that it may abhor the caos
that led to them; and what language a
be more calculated to produce such an efi^e
than that used by the immortal hard
Avon? What a natnnd character -was M^
bcth!— not a» imaginary indhiducU of i
author*t (rotn, but one of a class. H
many men, like him, may be found in i
present day, of a generous dispoeition. a
good propensities, but with vehement p
sions and aspiring wishes, and a snb'i
KXITDSB SUFPORT TO THE BRITTSK STAGE?
213
^ tD be sedtioed bj splendid prospects
sad mbitioas counsels. He has described,
^isatferlj manner, the emotions of Mac-
^itttbe struggles of consdence, and his
H<iDM ttiung from remone; and I mnst
^ tiat no one, of taxj moderate degree of
vniaesi, ooold go to the playhonse, and
vitBGs these scenes, with all the effects that
.H9%T and acting can prodnce, without
^ awmT a wiser and a better man.
Ssfir it is an unjust charge agunst this
ianEparable anthor to assert that he is
c^tTOff fidse representations! It is gene-
^T vknovledged that he gives an air of
y^j to evajthing; and, in spite of many
sip^aX fasHs (to be attribnted rather to
'^'toaes than to the man), effects, better
^ ssj ose else has erer done, the chief
{^7e» of theatrical representation. Hear
"Aciiaracter Pope gives him: —
'His characters are so mnch nature her-
^ that it is a sort of injnrj to call them
'! M! distant a name as copies of her. Those
' 9^ poets have a constant resemblance,
'^ shows that thej received them from
"•saotber, and were bnt rnnlti pliers of the
^ image; each picture, like a mock
\3iiov, is bat the reflection of a reflection.
hfsftTf single character in Shakspeare
its math an individoal as those in life
^] it is as impossible to find any two
^. 33^ sndi as from their relation or
'^utjr in any respect appear to be twins,
^-t vpsa comparison, be fonnd remarkably
''^^CL To this life and variety of cha-
>^, ve mnst add, the wonderfal preser-
^^ cf it, which is snch throughout his
r'Jn,tfaat had all the speeches beoi printed,
.^ t^''3t the very names of the persons, I
^liere «e might have applied them with
^x-aty to every speaker."
^%^ peaking of this mighty genius, he
^'^: — **' The power over our passions was
."^^ posseised in a more eminent degree, or
^^-a; ed in so different instances. Yet all
^^X there is seen no labonr, no pains to
2^^ tbem; no preparation to guide our
"^« to the effect, or be perceiv«l to lead
'^^^ **; bnt the heart swells, and the tears
^'^^mt jmt at the proper places: we are
]^2*^ the moment we weep, and yet, upon
'T*****» find the passion so just, that we
***^ ^ sorprised if we had not wept, and
?^«t that Tcry moment." And herein Ues,
-iak, the great efficacy of stage represen-
tations— that they possess that peculiar in-
fluence over the heart which softens it for
those impressions and sentiments which it
should be the object of the dramatist to instil
by his writings. The heart of man, like iron
and other metals, is hard and of firm resist-
ance when cold, but warmed, it becomes
malleable and ductile; and it is by touching
the passions, and exciting sympathetic emo-
tions, that the tragedian must make his
impression upon the spectator. The stage,
then, is the medium for warming and render-
ing malleable the heart, and preparing it for
the reception of those higher and loftier
sentiments which Christianity teaches ; and it
may therefore be considered truly consistent
for a Christian to render support to the
British stage, as the British stage renders
support to Christianity.
** Aristides" again remarks, that " the work-
ings of tragedy do not transpire till its com-
pletion, and hence none are demoralized; but
in the theatre the plan is seen evolving, and
the consummation of the crime is introduced
to the beholder's view." This seems to me
to constitute one of its advantages as a
medium of instruction. Upon the stage are
brought within the spectator's view, in a
comparatively short space of time, events and
consequences which, in the ordinary course,
would take years, perhaps, to evolve, and
thus the audience steal the march upon time.
With the humbler classes of society, in par-
ticular, this is a great advantage: many of
them have no leisure or application to trace
the consequences of ill-governed passions or
erroneous principles through the long series
of a voluminous work, and thus the drama
happily steps in for this purpose. £vent8
are brought within the compass of a short
period ; precepts are delivered in the familiar
way of discourse; the fiction (lawful fiction)
u concealed, and representation and action
Take the place of cold, unaffecting narrative.
Such, then, are the true objects of the
drama — to instruct in morals and philosophy,
whilst at the same time it diverts. For
this purpose was it instituted in the first
place, and for the promotion of this object
has it been patronised, during all ages, by
the learned and talented. If the stage has
become corrupted and degenerated from the
true spvrit of the drama, it is because it hss
been contemptuously neglected by the pro-
fessotB of a morbid Christianity, and h/w thus
214
CAir CHBI8TIAKS, OOHSISTSXVTLT WITH THSIR FRISCIPLES,
fallen for its support upon the patronage of
the lower classes; and whilst sodi is the
case, nothing can be expected bat an inferior
and weakly order of theatricals. Woe be to
the stage when the proprietors are compelled
meanly to cringe to the vitiated taste of a
British popolaoe! That the stage, whether
good, bad, or indi£krent, must exist, is evi-
dent, for it is clear to judge, from the perusal
of history, that ** a love of droMatie reprt-
taUoHon i$ an mheraU principle in human
nature" — ^firom the child at sdiool, who de-
lights in playing at kings or heroes, and
acting extempore the stories which he has
read in his books of amusement, even to the
wild tribes of desert islands. Is it not wise,
then, that a principle of nature which must
have scope, should be turned into a mighty
engine for the diffiisioo of moral truths snd
maxims, as I cannot but think was intended
by that Providence who has endowed the
whole human family with either taknts for
the truthful display and imitation of the
human passions, or a mind formed for the
just appreciatioQ of it. I cannot but think
that all this was appointed for the purpose
that some great master-mind — ^snch as the
immortal Shakspeare — ^should arise, and in
his sublime delineations of the human cha-
racter, impart instruction to the world, and
thus prepare them for a more just concep-
tion of the sacred purposes of Christianity.
We are apt to consider Shakspeare only as
a poet ; but he is certainly one of the greatest
moral philosophers that ever lived.
Abutotle.
NBOATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
There are many things which from their
nature cannot be properly understood, or
fairly determined to be right or wrong, until
they have been put into practice. When our
legiislators frame new laws, it cannot be told
whether those laws will entail misery or the
reverse before they have been tried ; the
only thing that can be done is, to argue
from analogy, and to draw deductions from
facts which, as near as possible, bear upon
the matters requiring the law. But in the
present inquiry we have not to aigue upon a
subject the import and bearing of which we
are unacquainted with ; we have not to con-
jecture that such and such a result may
follow; but we have simply to determine
whether a Christian can consistently coun-
tenance a system the results or beuings of
which are perfectly obvious to all.
The stage of England is a great &ct;
and too well known are the habitmes of the
theatre, and too painfully visible are the im^
moralities attached to the same, to permit
the use of anything like conjecture while
arguing either for or against the stage.
C. W. has assumed a very sophistical posi-
tion in this debate, by trying to make it
appear that the stage, if it is not, might be,
a teacher of religion and monk. I must
remind our friend that we have now nothing
to do with what might be made of the stsge;
we have nmply to determine whether the
God-ftaring and the God-honouring man
can eonsistentiy support it. I at once join
issue with our skilful friend, and affirm that '
no Christian can countenance a theatre : and '
whence do I draw my reasons for so bold a
conclusion ? First, from inspirati<m. God i
says, ** Whatsoever ye do, do all for the gkny i
of God;" and in the second place, the evik
and immoralities attached — ^neoesaarilj at- i
tached — to theatres, are so glaring, that no :
unprejudiced beholder can fail to see them.
Who ever tiiinks of going to theatres to
honour his God ? ¥^10 ever goes upon his :
knees before entering their precincts, to aak
God to bless his soul by what he is about to '
hear and see ? If men never think (and 1
they dare not) oi asking God to give th«cn '■
his blessing in a theatre, how can a Christian '■
be consistent when found there ?
C. W. is very bold in his assumpiiaos ; \>y
his quotations from the poets he wishes ns '
to think that there was a time when men
really went to a theatre with a holj inten-
tion— ^when theatres were indeed schools of
virtue and religion. Either C. W. is Tvry
ignorant of the true history of the Eagi^s^
and every other stage, or else he does no^
present what he knows. Let him, if be eao^
point out that golden age. It was iko^ 11
the 6me of Dr. Johnson, as "^ Aristides" faa^
deariy shown; it was not in the age tnucoeH
diatdy before him; vainly do we stxiwe t
find it in the time of the fituart kin^
Hear what TiUotson saya about it in hi
days: — *^Ab the stage now is, plays sarv in
tolerable, and not fit to be pennitted in ajii
BKHDER SUPPORT TO THE BRITISH STAGS ?
215
nnich Um cbrwtian, D«tion. Thej
mtorioiuly minister both to infidelity
" The gidden age was not in the
he so far-famed Sbakspeare. I am
oritanical as to miss the reading of
i; trat neither am I so carried awaj
fioroe and splendour of his wit and
loi that I can dare rentnre to saj
II car great bard is a dangerous
0 read, and many of his plays not
exhibited as he wrote them.
0 show, by a brief snmmary, that
unot point out the time when the
stage was pnre, I shall refer him to
e frmoos William Prynne wrote in
t of Charles I. He made a catalogue
orities against theatres, which in-
ffwej name of note in the christian
SB world ; ccmprebending the united
y of the Jewish and christian
t; the deliberate acts of fifty-four
and modem general, national, and
U oooncils and synods, both oif the
and eastern churches ; the oon-
ry sentence of scTenty-one ancient
and one hundred and fifty modem
lad Protestant authors; the hostile
in c£ plulosophers, and even poets;
i l^:islktive enactments of a great
of psgsn and christian states,
magistratn, emperors, and princes.
Bk, is C. W. to point out his golden
; diallenge him to produce it. But
mecr, and say Prynne was a puritan,
of whom C. W. evidently knows but
against whom he has imbibed very
able prejudices. But be this as it
cts are facts, let them come from
rsoQive.
r C. W. should shift his ground, and
adent nations for his pure stage, I
ft lum to some of the opinions of the
ancBt men of antiquity. Plato says,
imiae the passions, and pervert the
tben; and of eonaeqatenct are dan-
to morality.^ Aristotle says, " The
€ fwnfidies ought to be forbidden to
people^ trotil age and discipline have
tern proof against debauchery."
Mji, ** The Gennan women are
i agaiut danger, and prt$erve their
f iKving no pioj^kouset among them"
1 s gnnri work addressed to the £m-
k^gwlm, advises the suppression of
■I ■ansOMBtf, as a great source of
oonruption. It would be possible to swell
out this paper to a volume with quotations
from ancient and modem writers, all con-
demnatory of theatres and anything of the
kind, but the above will sufiSce. We pass on
to notice some other parts of C. W.'s re-
markable paper. He tells us that he traces
the origin of the English stage to the
clergy — a most unfortunate origin as far as
its purity is concerned. It is notorious to
the students of English history, that no set
of men were more dei»iived or immoral tlian
were the English Popish clergy at the time
our friend mentions. This being so, can it
be possible that their plays would be more
pure than their lives and their religion ?
Surely, surely, C. W. does not mean to tell
us that the Popish priests of England in
1170 and preceding ages were christian
men— men from whom Christians of this
century do well to take their pattern. If
their plays were as pure as their faith, God
preserve us alike from either. A mere tyro
knows that the most abominable blas-
phemies, and the most oorrapt practices,
were openly practised and allowed as parts
of religion, by those very clergy whom C. W.
tells us introduced the drama into England.
This being so, it is small wonder that our
present theatres are dens of infamy and
vice, knowing from what a detestable source
C. W. tells us they spring.
C. W. next attempts to show us what
Christianity is, and here he is as far away
from the trath as when he tries to show us
that the origin of the stage was pure. He
evidently wishes us to understand that
Christianity permits a man to make himself
familiar with vice, in order that he may
leam to shun it: and in doing so, for his
purpose, he makes a most unfortunate quo-
tation, viz. : —
" Vice U a monster of so A-ightAil mien.
As to be hated needs but to be seen."
But we deny his inference altogether, and
likewise prove, from the following lines of
the same poem, that the poet was far from
teaching the same doctrine as G. W.: hear
him —
" Yet seen too oft, /mwdUar with hU/aee,
We first endure, then pity f then embretce,'*
The tmth of the last two quoted lines is
painfully obrions to all who hafe^stodied
216
CAX CUItISTl4l>'S, G0N8ISTKKTLY WITH THEIR PllIXCirLK3,
London life. Nearly all men agree, that it
is the familiaritj with vice which develops
all the immoral and vicions propensities of
human nature. What, then, becomes of
C. W.*8 boasted assertion, that the exhibition
on the stage, of what he mildly terms
" scorn " will lead men to shun vice ? Let
him, if he can, point to a single individaal
who ever became a more moral man bj wit-
nessing the representation of vice. I will
tell him what the sick comedian once said,
and may we weigh well the signiBcancy of
his words: — ^''I have been acting Sir John
Falstaif so often, that I thought I should
have died; and had I died, it would have I
been in the service of the devil." If the |
stage were good, its good effects must be
soonest felt by those who have most to do
with it. Is it so ? Is it not, rather, noto-
nous that, with only a few exceptions, actors
and actresses are shamefully immoral ? What
vice, what depravity, what corruption, dis-
grace the green-rooms of our principal
theatres, to say nothing of those lesser hells,
the minor theatres of our great towns.
^ In whatever aspect we view the stage,
it possesses no claim upon our sympathies,
inasmuch as it ever has been the engine of
falsehood, the propagator of vice, and tended
to degrade and make licentious the people."
G. W. says truly, " It has undergone no
change hj which it forfeits its former claims,"
and fur this reason we warn all Christians
to keep aloof from the polluted thing. We
have shown — at least, the quotations we
have adduced have 'that plays have ever
had an immoral tendency; and the present
condition of the drama clearly enough demon-
strates, that theatres are the very strong-
holds of sin. How, then, we ask, can 0. W.
consistently uphold the doctrine, that Chris-
tians may support them?
Show me the country and the age where
theatres are most in vogue, and I will de-
monstrate that that age and that country
bear upon their front the impress of the
greatest amount of sin. One fact alone shall
be sufficient to attest my assertion. During
the progress of the most blasphemous and
ferocious revolution which ever shocked the
f Ace of heaven, theatre, in Paris alone, mul-
tiplied from six to twenty-Jive, Now, one of
two conclusions follow from this : either the
spirit of the times produced the institutions,
or the iustitutioos cherished the spirit of the
times; and this would certainly go to prove
that they are either the parents of vice, or
the offspring of it. Such being the state of
the case, we shall offer G. W., and those who
may understand Christianity as he seems to
do, a iew remarks from the word of God, to
prove that a Christian dare not be found to
countenance the stage. David says, " Blessed
is the man that walketh not in the counsel
of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of
sinners, nor ntteth in the seat of the scorn-
ful," Psa. i. 1. And again: "I have not
sat with vain persons, neither will I go in
with dissemblers^ Psa. xxvi. 4. Now, what
is there but vanity and deceit upon the stage?
Would David, would Christ, would the apos-
tles and prophets, if on earth, countenance
the stage? I trow not. Neither can Chris-
tians, who are the servants of Christ, defile
themselves by countenancing the polluted
stage. But one or two more extracts will
suffice to show that the word of God calls
upon us to keep ourselves separate from the
godless throng who serve the devil by
dancing attendance upon tlie stage. *' Enter
not into the path of the wicked, and go not
in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not
by it, turn from it, and pass away," Prov.
iv. 14, 15. See 1 Cor. v. 9—11; 2 Pet. iii.
6, &c. We feel that we have laid ourself
open to be called a puritanical dreamer, and
that we would cut men off from all harmless
enjoyment. We deny the truth of such an
impUcation. If C. W., or any one else, can
show that plays were ever any other than
vicious in their tendency and effect, and that
they may be made so again, then, and not
till then, shall they have one iota of our
support Christians are not prevented from
rejoicing; neither have they one whit the
less enjoyment, though their principU^
prevent their indulging in the sinful charms
of the stage. They know that to learn
what virtue and vice are they have not
to seek the instruction of the stage. Ko,
the fountain of all virtues is ever well-
ing up before them, and to its pure and
hallowed springs they go for their copious
draughts, and there they discover what
virtue is, by reading the sayings and doings
of Him who was virtue's God. Yes, from
the lips and life of Uim, who spake as never
man spake, the Christian draws his lessons
of holiness and love, and loses notUlng by
neglecting the lessons of the sta|^e. And to
CENDER StTPPORT TO THE BRITISH STAGE ?
217
bow the hideousDess of vice, the Christum
b not iodebted to SiAlupeare, ever to well
idd. No, no; Sluikspeare never did, and
Sbakipetre never conld, teach to man the cor-
n^ of the heart within him one-ten-
tkandth part so cleaiiy as it is to be seen
pQrtnfBd in the revelations of the word of
Ooi Go, thaxy C. W., and stndy that pre-
dees book; and soon, very soon, will yon
fasra vhat folly it is to nm to the mimic
£e1iag ef pMr, erring men for yonr patterns
^/r»e or virtue, when snch a predons and
inSill^ manitor b ever at yonr ooomiand.
A few words with H. T., and we have
t'jBe. None can fail to see that he is a
ckrer, and when his subject admits, a power-
M viiter; bnt, nnfortUDately for his credit,
19 Om present instance he can only nse
votls to hide or smother fiicts. What is
tie intentkn of his dolcet strain? Why,
saoply to break down the hedge which sepa-
ratei the Chxistiiitt from the nngodly; he
^^Bbcs to see the christian church dove-
tiiled into tha world, and thinks that snch
1 (3<i)oee£ng wonid tend to make both parties
^4Qff and happier. If H. T. were endowed
Th^ infallible wisdom, and could prove it,
Hs reasoning would command attention;
\at m loog IS his argument runs in op-
peitisa to God*s truth, we must treat it
"s-'jh the neglect it deserves. H. T. is evi-
uLtJr one of those who, having some faint
^'t^Qs c^ christian truth, allow their fancies
'- usurp the place of inspiration. Well
'^^i^ it be for such men, if they would study
''^t St Peter means in his first Epistle,
- 11, 12 — ^•* Dearly beloved, I beseech you
>>^ strau^rs and pilgrims, abstain from
^<c^ly liuts, which war against the soal,'* &c.
H. T. evidently thinks that it is morose-
-"^s for a Christian to account himself
'-^ a stranger and pilgrim on earth;
but we must allow the Author of Chris-
tianity to be a better judge of what is
consistent in a Christian, than a thousand
reasoners such as our friend H. T. He
seems to forget that a Christian's hopes are
iu heaven, that his joys are not centered
here below. Like too many others, he seems
to imagine that religion, white it prevents
an indulgence in sinful delights, gives no
joys in return. Has he never read how St.
Paul, amidst all his manifold trials and
sufferings, went on rejoicing? Had he any
need of the gewgaws of the stage to make
life tolerable? For him to live was Christ;
to die, gain. When H. T. knows per-
sonally what St. Paul did, then, and not till
then, will he understand why the stage is
not worthy of a Christian's patronage.
What a mistake the worldly fall into
when they think that Christians have no
pleasures here below I They forget that the
whole world is theirs; that temporal things
subsist only for the advantsge of Christians;
and that when Christ has gathered together
his elect, this world will cease to be. What
folly to imagine that that man's happiness
can be enhanced by the mimicry of the stagey
who delights in the works of his God ! What
need for the lessons of the stage, when the
Christian has the book of inspiration, the
book of nature, and the book of history from
whence he draws all he wishes to know?
Such a one cannot waste time to see nature
caricatured in the playhouse, but leams to
admire virtue and abhor vice, because the
universal teaching of his God commands the
latter and commends the former.
Having run this paper to an unusual
length, we have only room to say how much
we admire the reasoning of J. E. P., and
how strongly we commend i\ to our opponents.
W. T.
HvroKT is " the record of God's providence getting himself honour out of man's sin."
Ciri] polity has to do with those relations, social and national, which have been divinely
*P(«iaEted*for man; bo did not invent them. Science investigates and applies those laws
'^ Mtare, and pi«pertics of the external world, according to which all things have been
'^M fraoi the b^imsing. Art, nsthetically considered, is but the reprodnction and
'^'n^nctioa of images of the mind, and forms of natural beauty, whose original is beyond
^ «wtUy ckdm. Philosophy is concerned with the structure of the intellect, with its
''9«ntiflBa, and with man's relation to the material world in which he is placed. — Britiih
<JNirler% iSmttir.
8
218
IS WOMAX MENTALIA' ISFERIOU TO MAN?
IS WOMAN MENTALLY INFERIOR TO MAN ?
INTRODUCTORY ARTICLE.
A CORRECT answer to this qnestion must
be based on a very comprehensive and ac-
curate knowledge of the human mind. This
paper will contain onlj a few suggestions and
facts which may assist in further inquiries.
It maj be presumed from the unqualified
form of the query, that it is not meant to be
partial, merely having reference to a few
mental powers; nor should we consider it as
meaning, "Is woman's mind equal in all
respects to man's? " for it may be that both
have points of superiority as well ns in-
feriority. Wliat I understand by the qnestion
is, taking all the peculiarities of woman's
mind and all the peculiarities of man's, and
comparing the total of the one with the total
of the other, which stands the nearest to the
point or standard of perfection?
What, in the Jirst place, is meant by fer-
FECTI02J? »The term is either relative or
absolute. Relative perfection in human beings
consists in their complete adaptation to their
proper spheres of action. Viewed absolutely^
degrees of perfection consist in the adaptation
of different individuals to more or less ele-
vated spheres of action. In the first sense,
there can be no doubt that the Creator has
made woman as perfect as man, and man a&
perfect as woman, and every inferior crea-
ture as perfect as human beings, t.e., all ar(>
exactly adapted to the spheres in which they
are intended to move. Here, tlien, there can
be no dispute. The question is, rather, Is
woman absolutely as perfect as man? lilau
may possibly be capable of undertaking more
numerous, difficult, and exalted duties; or
woman may have the pre-eminence in thes<»
respects; or they may stand on an equal
footing with each, although engaged in
different spheres of action. In prosecuting
the inquiry, it is desirable to take a general
view of human nature as reg.ards mind,
which must be understood to act, in this
life, through the medium of the brain. The
capabilities of mind are chiefly dependent
on five principal attributes — capacity, form,
tone, temperament, and texture. These are
modified by a<;c and circumstances in every
individual. But it is only with the attri-
butes themselves that we have At present
to do. Five degrees are exhibited in the
following table; the lowest degree being re-
presented by I, and the highest by 5.
Tempn'ammt
Very active
Active
Medium
Inert
Veiy inert
As this arrangement is not to be found
elsewhere, and the terms are too general to
convey ideas sitfficiently definite, a few ex-
planatory observations are necessary.
Capacity,
Form.
5
Very great
Very excellent
A
Great
Excellent
3
Medium
Medium
2
Small
Inferior
I
Very small
Very inrerior
4
Tone,
Very vigorous
Vigorous
Medium
Feeble
Very feeble
dependent on the form of the bnun*, \>ul
may co-exist with considerable variations of
form, adapting different indiridaals to dif-
ferent spheres of duty. Man seems to Yiavc
Texture.
Very line
Fine
Medium
Coarse
Very coarse
Capacity, when applied to the intellect, generally a greater proportitm of intellect
means power of comprehension; great ca- , and animal energy, woman more of social
pacity, the power of laying hold of great ' and moral feeling. I do not think tbere is
ideas. When applied to the feelings, great [ any one standard of perfection as to Jorvu
capacity means depth of emotion, strength , No one form can be adapted to all duties, or
of impulse, and is dependent on a large this would be the perfect standard. Th>^
development of the brain. The average of , difference of form in man's and womanV
men's brains is 3 lb. 8 oz., of women's, 3 lb. < heads does not necessarily imply inferiority
4 oz. Excellence of form consists of that | on eitlicr side. The term temperament I
happy balance of the faculties, that none so ' have used in a sense more excloaive than
far predominate as to interfere with the | that usually attadied to it, as «mp1y corn-
legitimate action of the others. This bar- j prehending the different degrees of activity
mony of the faculties is in a great measure and inertness. There seems to be no esstii-
IS WOMAN MENTALLY INFERIOR TO MAN ?
219
tial di3*erciice between men and women as
t'.i act'iTitT of mind. Vigour of tone is highly
rxportunt to enable as to endure long-con-
I'mi^ mental exertion with impunity.
\V(<aukn*s present inferiority to man in this
attiibote seems to be an occidental condition,
Tliieh will be rvraoved by attention to the
Uvs of health. The vip^our of some women
fcttms to be equal to that of the most robust
men, especially aariong wandering and savage
tribes; which shows that feebleness is not
u essential part of her character. Tlie last
altribate is texture. Here woman may most
decidedly claim superiority. It gives her
the advantage in apinreciating whatever is
ddicately fine; in doing whatever reqniR's
lieucicT of touch, of tliou^ht, and of feeliu;;.
It ii CQQf[Mcaons in her features, and of
H<elf lofficiently distinguishes the feminine
(iuoeter from that of the "coarser sex."
it Kin DOW be readily understood that ac-
twdin^ to my conceptions of a really superior
cr poatively excellent character, it consists
of a combination of these attributes, all
^t medium; and that a character inferior
ii erfry respect is one in which all these
litribotes are below medium; while an
iftiiridoal with attributes all medium, has
ht a medium character. But these attri-
hin are more commonly combined in
^<Tent proportions; thus, 4, 4, 3, 2, 2,
Bay represent their proportions in one cha-
ncter, but the sum of tliese will be the
taiM as the sum of 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, all medium,
coc<titnting a medium character, charnc-
tcriied by the number 15. Another chu-
Aeter may consist of a combination of
attnbutes, represented by 5, 4, 4, 4, 3 ; this
Wdd be among superior characters, its
clancteristic number being 20. Now, if we
CM prare that the characteristic numl>er of
voBsn's character is equal to that of num's,
^ ifaaD prove her equality.
Han Rads in history of many superior
i|R(UDeiis of his own sex, and he is impressed
^ the greatness of man. He looks around
^ and sees women of comparatively infe-
rior Older, and the impression on his mind
tbt the female character is much below the
^■k standard is perfectly natural. But it
is Mt just to take men who are superior
<«ptfed with their felbw-men, and com-
pHe them with women who are inferior
i3iQ0g women. It would appear more just
to take tbs aTcr^ge of each sex and compare
them with each other; this would leiul to
a more correct conclusion as to existiu^
facts. But these averages have not yet been
ascertained ; and I am not sure tliat a con-
clusion drawn from such averages would
truly answer the question, which seems, from
its unlimited nature, to refer to the essential
characteristics of man's and woman's minds,
rather than to their present accidental con-
dition— to what thoy are severally caj^ablc
of, rather than to their present actual attain-
ments. Past circumstances may have tended
to develop the ])cculiar excellences of man
more than those of woman. Society is to
the moral and intellectual being what cli-
mate is to vegetable existences: and exerts
a (leterioniting or healthful influence on
individuals, according to its adaptation, or
want of adaptation, to their, primitive con-
stitutions.
For these reasons we must turn from the
actual to tho })ossihIc condition of woman,
and learn, so fur as science will teach us,
to anticipate to what point woman will rise
under circumstances most favourable to her
development, and compare her, thus perfected
in her highest degree, with man when he is
similarly perfected by circumstances equally
adapted to his nature. Those who have not
the power to do this are not in the position
to form an unerring judgment on the subject
— they are exceedingly liable to mistakes.
The peculiar excellences of woman, viz., her
superior moral sentiments and social feelings,
combined with fineness of texture, lit her
in an especial manner for the high«'st of
human duties — the exercise of moral in-
fluence or control over the passions of others.
The government of mind is as superior to
the government of matter, as mind itself is
superior to waiter. To prove, then, that
woman is more eminently fitted for the
exercise of this influence, is to do much
towards proving that her mind is superior
to man's; fitness for exalted duties being
a sure test of superiority of mind. A few
examples of woman's power in this respect
must suffice.
George Combe mentions, that when in
America ho visiteil a school conducted by a
gentleman and his wife conjointly, and that
whenever the fonner found boys too ditficult
to manage he sent them to the latter; by
this me:ms all corporal punishments were
superseded. Other schoolmasters si^ \\t\\>
220
IS WOMAN MEXTALLT INFERIOR TO MAN?
tating this example with equal success. The
masters themselves feel the beneficial in-
fluence of the presence of females in their
schoolrooms, by its enabling them more
effectually to control their own tempers.
Again, in the "Edinburgh Journal'' for Sep-
tember, 1845, there is an account of an
asylum for the upper classes, conducted by
a physician and his wife, where physical
force is superseded by moral influence ; and
not only does the lady exercise a genial
influence over the whole establishment at all
times, but when the patients are too turbu-
lent for others to control an appeal is made
to her; and her influence is so great as to
command invariable obedience. And so
greatly is she loved and respected, that
nothing delights the patients more than to
find some opportunity of doing her some
little service. These individual instances
are only given as illustrations of a new
application of a power extensively possessed,
but long allowed to lie dormant or run to
waste.
]f turbulent boys and madmen can be
thus easily controlled by woman's influence,
what may it not efiVct when society sliall be
based on the principle of moral influence —
when woman shall be allowed and incited to
use this her mighty power in improving the
condition of her race? Society has been
organized in accordance with the views of
man, on the principle of physical force ; this
ke has found to be more easy to wield; at
least, so he has thought and so he has acted.
It is an essential principle of barbarism.
Man in barbarian society is, therefore, pre-
eminent and woman degraded; because the
former possesses the greater physical power
and animal energy.
Amidst the turmoil of opposing physical
forces and animalism, woman has not had
physical force to maintain an equality of
position, or such a degree of freedom, as is
essential to the development of her peculiar
excellences. Society is, at first, barbarian
in its principles. The ancient Jews were a
barbarous people, as the orientals have
always been, and still are : and this is quite
a sufficient reason why so little is said of
woman in bible history. Much of barbarism
still lingers among us ; our laws have, to a
great extent, been copied from those of the
Romans (an essentially barbarous people),
Mid woman ia not free; she is degraded by
dependence and subjection, and often marries
those she cannot love for little else than to
ensure a supply of daily bread ; and baughty
man pleads his right to domineer from "^ tla
curse" as it is termed, pronounced on woman
immediately after the fall, aa if that con-
ferred on him the right to tyrannize, which
he did not before possess. This is not
Christianity. Christianity is intended to
restore both man and woman from the efivcta
of the fall to paradisiacal perfection and har-
mony. As this state gradually returns,
woman will be elevated more and more in
her social position, till she takes her proper
sphere, where she will exercise extensively
the most potent of all social influences, gtnUe
yet omnipotent.
Those who do not understand the nature
of moral influence, can never appreciate the
character of perfect woman, nor underatand
her proper duties or true position in our
world. Man is too material in his notioos,
and we must wait till greater spirituality of
thought is developed by him, ere we see him
entertain just conceptiona of wocuan, with
the spiritual nature of her duties. To sup-
pose that woman is merely a domestic animal,
governed almost exclusively by " dcKncstit
ini»tincts,*' is a great mistake. Most women
will undoubtedly choose domestic duties
when left perfectly free in her choice; bat
she will not choose to be, as she now is in
the middle and lower ranks of society, a
slave to them. Here in England she is
forced into the domestic sphere of dutica^
and kept there by circumstances whether
she will or no : in France she is forced oat
of it; men are the domestics. I ought not
to dismiss this question without adding some-
thing more on woman's intellectnal powen
In society we find a great many women wb»
are superior in intellect to men with whom
they are connected, engaged in the vetr
duties which nature or custom has assigned
to man. These may be considered by aooM
as exceptions^ though not rare ooea. Oor
proper question is. Will wt>man'8 inteUect be
equal to man's, when both are equally pf^
fected? I do not know any woman iHm
advocates perfect equality in this respect.
There are yet many instances on record ti
intellectual women, which point to a h^y
respectable position as attainable by £emales>
A few instances must suffice.
Madame de Stael, a French makharcM d
IS WOMA2f MENTALLY ISFKUIOK TO 5LVS?
221
odebnry, whose talents were so early dis-
plaj«d that she is said " nerer to have been
a cUld,** from her twentieth jear took an
actite part in b'teratare, and an almost
quUj active part in politics. And so great
vaj her inflnence in the political world, that
(A ber f^poaiiig Napoleon s government in
1801, he thought it neceasaiy to is.suc an
cfder for her to qnit Paris; and on her
retnm she was again expelled. Her works
uttont to serenteen volomes.
IaiIt Heater Stanhope, a near relative
aad great assistant to the celebrated William
iltt, was another female of strong intellect
vA^mueuUne" enerjqr. An account of
hn rsaj be seen in ** Chambers's Edinburgh
Joomai,' 23rd August, 1845, page 117.
^ Carter, an intimate of Dr. Johnson,
^ alio of the most literarj characters of
tiota^, acqnired the Hebrew, Arabic, Greek,
I^tia, Italian, Spanish, French, Portuguese,
ud German languages. She was a trans-
litoraad poetess.
Aooe Dacier, a French lady, who died
1720, " was deeply learned, and an eminent
tnulator of the classics." The greater part
tf Ixr life was spent in ** literary labour,"
ia eoDJonctioQ with her husband. It is said,
;;KiitIy to her honour, that though deeply
loncd, aha in society carefully avoided any
^tp^ of learning, and in all the relations
4^ private life her conduct was exemplary.
Ol7m]»a Tnlvia lilorata was one of the
vfint and brightest ornaments of the Re-
ftnntiwL She could declaim in Latin,
convene in Greek, and was a critic in the
ant difficnU classics.
iady Jane Grey, too, evinced great taste
ad eapability for study; be^Udes which, she
vaiamood Greek and Latin, with some
Bndn languages. This was not from the
I example of most of the friends and relatives
by whom she was suirounded — they were
directly opfxjsed to her in their tastes: to
use her own luufruage, ''they never knew
what true pleai»ure meant." But she had
othor greatness which I am iuclined to
admire more than learning,— -ftlie had great
moral worth and fortiludc, acting on the
moit trying wca^ions from motives of prin-
ciple and duty. Tiiese are excellences in
the female clmnicter which, when manifested,
cannot bv too highly valued and praised,
but ou whicli I bhall not now dwell, or
allusion might be made to Mrs. Judson,
Elizabeth Fry, and others, whom I have
. never heard of as being learned, but who
' are eminently great in my eyes, more so
than a larire majority of men. llosa Govona
is another, vide '* Edinburgh Journal,*' August
23, 1845.
Salaude, in a small work on Astronomy,
enumerates a considerable number of females
eminent as mathematicians and astronomers.
Herschel's daughter assisted him greatly in
his studies and calculations. Such facts
are valuable, as proving that woman's in-
tellect is not essentially and necessarily of
such a contemptible order as some men seem
to think. Yet they are not of themselves
sufficient to decide that woman's mind is
equal to that of man's. Greater mathema-
ticians are to be found among the latter.
The final questions are. Does not woman's
moral excellences and moral influence com-
pensate for the want of an equal amount of
intellect with some men? And do not the
duties of a moral nature, e8])ecially enjoined
on her by the Creator, imply equality with
man in regard to excellence of mental en<
dowment? T. F. 0.
NECATITE ARTICLE.— I.
^Xui aaj the sterner virtues know,
Dctenuned jastiee, truth severe ;
MSieuk beaiti with pit^ glow.
Aa4 WOMAV holds affection dear ;
ypfmrihlew woes ber sorrows flow,
And nfieriDg vioe compels her tear:
Hi *(n IS sooC/btf <*« tlto Mote,
iaA Hi fi/e's/Urcr vievM appear.
T»wiman'* gentle kind we owe
Wkal eomnrts and deUghln os here ;
'^rlti fty hopes on yonih bestow,
ia4 can ihcy aootbe, and age they cheer."
CaABBE.
It ii lAnoge to contemplate the many
pranks which pride and trujcdice are
continually playing with mankind; and it is
no less strange to reflect that the victims
are not unfrequently found amongst those
I who would wish to be thought the great and
wise among men. In fact, if each of us
could onlv be induced to take the trouble
I to examine well our own creed, and strike
! out from the tablet of our belief all such
notions as have gained a place there through
I the instrumentality of one or other oC VVaisa
222
IS WOMAN MENTALLY INFERIOR TO M.VK ?
passions, we should find onreelvea mnch
better and more rational beings through
the process.
Take an instance in point Man has been
told from his earliest years that he is men-
tally superior to woman. Pride jumped at
such a flattorinfi: conclusion, and urged him
forthwith to style himself* lord of the cre-
ation;" and Prejudice forbade him to in-
quire into the truthfulness of the claim, lest
it should be found wantinjr. The point has,
therefore, among manj others, been deemed
settled.
Now, we object to the practice of adopting
<^onclusion8 based upon no better grounds
than mere assumption. We have, on more
than one occasion, in these pages, pointed
out the foUj of such a course. And, before
now dismissing the subject, we would re-
commend the following brief rules: — 1st.
Never reject anything merely because it is
nere. 2nd. Never put implicit reliance in a
thing because it has the claim of antiguity
on its side.
We propose to apply these principles of in-
vestigation to the question now before us,
and pledge ourselves to abide by the result.
We shall, in the present paper, state our
own convictions and our reasons for them;
and if our opponents think we are in error,
let them set resolntelj to work to convince
us that we are so.
It has occurred to us, that certain " lords
of the creation " must sometimes find them-
selves sorely puzzled at the position in which
they place themselves : we mean those who,
while under the influence of a certain pre-
valent epidemic, called love, have fallen
down before, and even worshipped at the
feet of, beings whom, in their calmer senses,
they consider far inferior to themselves!
But we will not, so early in the scene, intro-
duce any ^ awkward insinuations.*'
The grounds upon which woman's mental
inferiority to man is alleged, seem neither to
have been clearly defined nor understood.
We have heard it sometimes aTgued, that as
woman was designedly created weaker than
man in physical strength, so she was in-
tended to be inferior to him in mental power.
This is unquestionably a veiy simple argu-
ment in more senses than one. If mental
capabilities are to be judged by the standard
of physical strength, what mighty achieve-
ments might be expected from giants! And
how strange that they should be known to
the world only by their Jack-and-bean-stalk
doings! But we may pass on. Others there
are who jeeringly point to history, and ask
to be introduced to the recorded actions and
accomplishments of patriots and heroes in
the female line. Leaving out scriptural
record, where woman is ever found foremost
in charity and all good works, we may dis-
miss this objection bj saying, that many of
the noblest and most heroic deeds which
stand recorded on the world's life-history
have been accomplished either by, or at the
instigation of, woman. But the most fre-
quent and, at first sight, most plauaibU*
argument is, that we seldom obserre in
woman any manifestation of those higher
intellectual powers which are so common iu
man. Where, ask these objectors, are jour
female painters, sculptors, poets, writers of
fiction, inventors, designers, &c.? Now, as
this seems to be the stronghold of our ad-
versaries, we shall devote more especial
attention to it
Phrenologists hare told us, and phi-
losophers have failed to disprove the assertion,
that the organs of the brain, the seat of the
mind, is divided into three distinctive
classes, each of them occupying a separate
region, and each of them exercising a greater
or lesser influence over their possessor, ac-
cording to their relative p*epondenuice or
otherwise. These are usually denominateil
— (1) the Higher Intellectual, (2) the
MoRAT^ and (3) the Social groups or
faculties. Thus, according to our develop-
mcnt, in these several regions shxdl we ex-
hibit intellectual greatness, as ordinarily
expressed, moral power, or social virtues.
Tliese faculties, although thus distinnuishod.
are all component parts of the mind in iti^
entirety. Thus, when wo speak of menial
power, wo speak of them all conjointly.
Now, it is well known that in women tht-
social faculties, at least, preponderate, while
the moral faculties are, at least, equal ; tho
deficiency therefore being in the intellectii.il
or perceptive faculties. The consideration
of these f:\cts will at once explain vhy tli^
mental capabilities and achievements of
women present themselves in diflerent fonii-^
and under different aspects from those of
men. To make this part of our subjix^t
more clear, wo have prepared and affixe<l a
scale, intended to represent the relative
13 WOMAN 31 EXT ALLY INFKKlOR TO MAX ?
223
(It'velopmcDt or mental power of men and
vooien in the several divisions before spe-
cified. In the first, that is, the intellectual
ikpartment, mamy as we have before stated,
<^xcfls; in the second — the moral develop-
meat — the sexes are equal; while in the
thinl, or social organism, the woman has the
prepcNulerance. Now, if a line be drawn
the division a perpendicularly, it
ifon
becomes apparent that what the woman
lacks in the intellectual region she com-
pcnsatos for in the social region. Herein
we arrive at the true solution of the problem,
which is, that in the sum the mental powers
of man and woman are equals although not
identical. Our next step is to elucidate
the correctness of this conclusion, and to
show how completely it harmonizes with
a
Man.
Woman.
Intellectual.
Intellectual.
Moral.
Social.
i
Moral.
Social.
^ »e know or could desire concerning
It is the mission of woman to cultivate
3ni excel in the social virtues. Poets,
■totbon, philosophers, divines, have all told
^ n again and again. Listen to a few of
>bflr testimoaies.
Ciabbesajs: — *'
"While ttte sterner sex disdains
To tootbe tbe woes tbev cannot feel.
Woman will strive to heal his pains,
Aod weep for those she cannot heal :
Her» \» warm pity's sacred rIow,
From all her stores she bears a port,
And bids the spring of hope reflow,
That laoguiahed in the fainting heart."
Gibbon observes: — ^**In every age and
^'"'artry the wiser, or, at least, the stronger,
"f tbe two sexes has usurped the powers of
<^ttj^ and confined to the other the cares
^pkatures of domestic life."
Vaimder bouLtifuIly adds: — "Bom io
^ and inspire the tender affections, it is
^ fiinlt (^ man if well-educated females
^fiCBBu not the grace and ornament of society.
•••Woman is the equal and companion of
Bm— not the plaything of his caprice, nor
^ ilave <^ his passions. When unpolluted
^ tbe breath of sensuality, and unattacked
^tbe man intidioiis venom of seductive
^iahtioo, if in jonth her mind has been
FRftriy directed, her character will stand
fivtik in aU the majesty of native dignity —
i> aU the pace of Tirtnoas simplicity. With
such ix being pictured in his imagination,
well might the poet exclaim:—
' Oh ! she is all that soul can be,
One deep undying sympathy.' "
Again we find Crabbe exclaiming:—
"Thus in extremes of cold and heat,
Where wandering man may trace his kind,
WTierever grief and want retreat.
In woman they compassion find:
She makes the female breast her seat,
And dictates mercy to the mind."
And in Mr. Ledyard's words, as quoted
by ]Mungo Park, we find a full confirmation
of the truths which the poet thus ex-
presse<l. He says: — "To a woman I never
addressed myself in the language of decency
and friendship without receiving a decent
answer. If I was hungry or thirsty, wet or
sick, they did not hesitate, like men, to per-
form a genuine action. In so free and kind
a manner did they contribute to my relief,
that if I was dry I drank the sweetest
draught, or if hungry, I ate the coarsest
mouthful with a double relish."
There is only one other social aspect in
which we wish now to speak of woman, and
that is in the intensity of her love. It is
here that she stands pre-eminent and unap-
proachable. Man may love ardently and
honourably, but it is not in his nature, and
therefore he cannot manifest that intense
and enduring love which is woman's birth-
right, and, we hope, her pride.
824
18 WOMAN MS:tTALLT CYFERIOR TO UAK ?
" Man's loTe is not so wonderful as woman's 1
He with an ardour not to be restrain'd.
Poors forth the riches of a noble heart
In passionate excess ; yat in the panse
That lies between the seasons of its power,
High duties and pursuits of honoured name
May win him to a short forget/Utness.
Ser passion is not such ! The hrealh she
breathes
Is not more certainlT the life of life
Than her quick flowing thoughts the life of lore !
Her heart ia in her hand, her eyes, her ears !
• • • «
Her ears take in all music, but to her
It has one burden, and repeats one name I
Ko Morrotc can $up]^reMS it, or destroy
Thit woman » love. '
The Italian Captive.
FestuSj in illustration of woman's love,
says: —
" I have seen all the woes of MP.K~pain, death,
Remorse, and worldly ruin ; they are little^
Wriahed tcif ^ ike woe of woman,whenJ'onaken
By Kim ike loved and trusted." •
Bat even poets mnst fail to depict the
fulness of wonians love in its noblest mani
festation — we mean in the honse of adversity,
affliction, and distress. It is then that she
rises, as it were, out of herself, pats on the
garb of a ministering angel of mercy, ^ and
sanctifies the solemn halls of death."
But time and space both prevent ns
doing justice to onr caase. Hour after hour
could we adduce fresh instances of the in-
floence of woman in promoting the social
happiness snd moroZ well-being of the human
family. We think life would be unbearable
without the presence of woman; and often
have we sympathised with the exclamation
of Campbell, when referring to Adam's posi-
tion before the creation of Eve : —
'* The world was tad! the garden was a wild !
And man, the hermit, Highed till woman smiled."
Let us not, then, decide hastily upon this
question. Those who have had the advan-
tage of a mother*8 instructions will not be
likely to offer a sentence adverse to the
mental claims of woman on the principles
we have laid down. Think of a home with-
out the presence of that being who, as
** Light inteUectoal, and Aill of love,"
is ever making our cares her own, our plea-
son hers, and our hapfHuess the object of
her life!
Again, what startling facts could we place
before the eyes of those who assert that
literature owes nothing, or but little, to
woman 1 Even not mentioning the poems of
Mn. Hemans, or the writings of Hannah
More, Mrs. Opie, Miss Martineau, Mrs. Ellis,
and a thoosand others, look at the indirect or,
rather we should say, wueen influence of
woman. How often do we find it recorded
in the lives of great authors that their wives,
their sisters, or their mothers gave the last
finishing stroke to worics which have after*
wards gained for themselves a high place on
the pinnacle of fame! Therefore, aithougU
women are not to be expected, for the rea-
sons we have stated, to shine in intellectual
attainments equally with men, yet they are
not to be denied " honourable mention " for
that which they have accomplished. It should
also be remembered that, as a general rule,
they have not yet received those educational
advantages which the male sex have. I a
fact, we want a more scrupulous attention
and regard to female education,
" To show us how divine a thing
A woman may be made."
The conclusion, then, at which we arrive
is, that in her sphere, and ever bearing in
mind that diversity of power is no proof of
inferiority, woman is in no way mentallj
inferior to man. She possesses equal mental
encrpy and power, but manifests it acconilin^
to the different position her divine Creator
ordained her to occupy in the great drama
of life.
We feel that poetry is so closely associated
with the subject of woman, that we have
made no hesitation in freely borrowing from
the poets, and we will now conclude as we
began, by a poetic tribute to woman*8 great-
ness, goodness, and beauty: —
" Behold the fkir creature, bow goiifteooslT btigl&t.
By innocence clad in a vestment of hfftti
Around her a halo of glor^ is shed,
A rainbow of promise enarcles her head ;
Her smile like the sun, her tears like qiriap
flowers.
Caressing, refreshing the glad infant boars.
Her zephynis step scaroely kisses the rose.
Her lips' ruby caverns rich treasures disoioa^ ;
On her movements affection and tenderness wait.
She has wealth like a diadem'd queen ia her
state.
Engifted by nature, ennobled by birth,
Ske comet' to briny yladtuti and {ore mpan
earth.
*Tis woman, the crown of creation's vast plan,
*Tb woman, Uie friend, wife, and help-meet or
man."
C, W., Jun.
n WOMAN MENTALLY INFERIOR TO MAN?
225
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.- 1.
** Woman, beauty is thy power ! "
Wk will Dot dwell on the interest which
U knlrtd in the diflcossion of this ques-
tioa; BtUKxigli, to a cerUin clasi of oar trans-
atltttie friends, it is paramooDt. Bj them
tbe isfoe of the interrogation is no longer
(irei^ed, £ar it is iinalterablj fixed. Such is
a>t the case in deliberative Old England.
Hace this cfe&iit.
It is icaroelj necessary to premise that
<m coDcloeioQS most be based on the po&ta-
latUD of the Baconian yiew of superiority
beiBi taken as the standard by which this
caae is to ba decided. By " Baconian view *"
▼e refer to the ** fruit" or " vintage" test of
tbat fJoksopher. For, in the event of in-
^luy not being prosecuted in accordance
vitit that postoJate, it is clear the question
^es into neutrality, or else it loses that
duuricter which is indispensable to definite
uswering. Because, proceeding in the
(^ittaadoD with any other aim than that of
licoding the qnerj by means of comparing
tie "juodacts" of the two opposing minds,
*0Q]d be to proceed on the supposition that
otW than these means were in existence,
ud should for this purpose be employed.
^^csoring consideration of the palpable
Qnlts of the respective minds is precisely
tbr lame as taking away regard for the
pover of a machine while calculating the
utooDt of labour that it will perform. There |
iiBovay of estimating the superiority of one
Badune over another, or of one mind over
VMtber, but that of concisely accounting for
^ labour which it performs, the effects,
the '^fruits," which it produces.
Sotralitj, therefore, would be the only
iCBtaiig ground of debate. To advocate
« tUs ground, we must show that, in the
^oai «f man and of woman, there is not such
a& s|ipusimatioD towards identity as would
c»Ue a ooBopaiison of reciprocal powers to
^ ifiseted, and hence, which would warrant
^MVQB oo the affirmative or on the negative
^'tk* question at issue.
T^ point of controversy then is — Has
or man wrought the greatest mental
f Which has produced the
vdghty endnteea of intellectual supe-
oaotj7 Aie the chief literary productions,
mechanical inventions, and scientific dis-
coveries, to be, by the voice of majority,
awarded to woman ? Surely there is no ap-
proach to probability here. To whom belongs
those works in which highest mental ex-
cellence and precision of physical toil are
combined?* It would, we think, be almost
preposterous to attempt to reply to these in-
terrogations. Even the Amazonian " Kate"
says with indignation —
" Why ore our bodies soft, and weak, aud smooth.
Unapt to toil, and trouble in the world ;
But that our soft conditions, and our heail*.
Should well agree with our external parts ?"
Though it is utterly wrong to assume that
the " fair" are of such intellectual and phy-
sical properties as to be capacitated for being^
identified with
" Such stuff
As dreams are made of;"
yet we certainly believe that Cowpcr has
nearly typified an ideal in accordance with
the " Eve" of the paradise-Miltoiiian, when
he says —
" Composure is thy gift ;
devote thy gentle hours
To books, to music, or
To weaving nets for bird-alluring (Vuit,
Or turning silken threadf) round ivory reels."
In reference to mental superiority alone,
surely there cannot be matter fur contest
and doubt. This assumption, it may be
urged, is ungallant. But our inquiry is
now to ascertain undisguised truth or philo-
sophical accuracy: this fact forms an all-
sufficient cxcusative plea. We cannot echo
but one reply — Man. Look at the fruits!
Are they not the evidences ? and do not these
preponderate against woman? We take up a
review of the fact In their province the
power of wOTnan's mind is, perhaps, peculiarly
adapted for elimination. But Shakspeare is
now as "incomparable" as he has ever been.
The only "fair" on whom his garment can
be supposed, by his most insidious depreda-
tors, and woman's most enthusiastic mental
admirers, to have fallen, was that contempo-
rary of Su: Walter Scott, of whom he said —
" She, the bold enchantress, came,
With fearless hand and heart on flame !
From the pale willow snatched the treasure.
And swept it with a kindred measure,
226
IS WOM.VX MENTALLY' INFERIOR TO MAN?
Till Avon's swaus, while ruoR the grove
With Monfort'A hate and Basil's love.
Awakening at the inspiring strain,
Deemed their own Sludupeare lived again."
Ben Jonson, Congreve, and Sheridan ; Keats,
Coleridge, Shelley, Byron; Milton and Words-
worth ; Chaucer, '* the father of English
poetry,'*
*' The blind old bard of Skio's rocky isle,'*
T/ith the thousand others, have no compeers.
Where is the necessity or utility of dwell-
ing longer here? Wherever the "lesser
orb" casts her shadow, it is hut to be
eclipsed. Until doubts arise with regard to
the superiority of the mental power displayed
in the works of those whose names we have
enumerated, the chief point — that of literary
merit— is, it must be regarded, decided. And
as yet these doubts have not so much, we
believe, as arisen ; or, if they have, they are
not prevalent, and so do not affect our position.
We now proceed to consider whether the
subjects at issue have minds of a character
of that identity which would justify the
comparison of the respective products of ac-
tion. It might be urged that intellects which
are so constituted as to be eminently adapted
for acquiring knowledge, projecting inquiry,
and defending truth, must necessarily be of
that fundamental principle which is contra-
distinctive to the ordinated constitution of
woman's mind ; that the innate disposition of
her mentahty being docile, and in its whole
bearing not suited for acquisativeness or
solid masculme philosophical research, but
for intelligent urbanity, subserviency, and
rational tmanimity ; and hence that nature,
intending her for a sphere diametrically
opposite to that of man, formed her with a
mind adapted for the carrying out of that
design; and that this, therefore, has led to
the destruction of any characteristic common
to men. But that this is the case remains
to be shown. "When the objection which we
suppose to be urged has been proved to be
validly drawn, the case we advocate will, at
the same time, be proved nugatory. But there
is no necessary connexion between the powers
which act in the gaining of knowledge and
the maintaining of truth, and those which
net in producing the various mental evolu-
tions indispensable to insidiousness and op-
probrious deportment We may not so far
deviate from the track of our prescribed
course, as to enter into a cogent discussion
on the metaphysics of this oontra-abduction.
Let it be sufficient if examples be produced, i
and that it be shown that no others in |
juzta-position to them can be so adduced as
to overturn their coercion. For instance, ,
let that learned heroine of history, Lady
Jane Grey, be considered. Had not she every
grace to which woman is by nature heir? ,
And if old Ascham, speaking through Landor, ,
may be credited, she was also extensively
versed in all the literary lore then extant.
One who at that age could say, " But tell
me, would you command me no more to read
Cicero, and Epictetus, and Plutarch? The
others I do resign ! " must have had a mind
very highly cultivated. Other instances
of the union in woman of deep learning
and high amiability might be quoted,
but space forbids. We adverted to these
ancient examples in order to oontrorert the
opinion that unusual learning and acute
intrigue were in that age invariably twin.
But referring to modem times. Here we
are constantly borne out. On all sides we
have fruits of the skilful use of woman's pen.
Those of the " fair " whose mental power
has raised them towering over their cam-
peers, have graced their sex as mnch «s
their abilities have adorned themselves. The
cases in which the motives that prompted
the pen were deteriorating to the image vhich
Eve saw reflected in the lake are very ex-
ceptional. Mrs. Fry did not more grace the
lazar-faouse than the many of her cornva!l»
have graced literature. The Hon. Mrs.
Norton is, perhaps, an exception. " But
what is one to the many?" And the roen-
tal elements that wrought her unenviable
notoriety were set on fire by the collusions
of puerile weakness ; precisely as " Wakefield''
sprang from poverty, Pope from deformity.
It was not so much from the possession of
power as from the obloquy of impota&cy.
Perhaps this principle is pressed as appli-
cable to man in common. But it is not just.
For we refer to power sub8er\*ient to mor-
bosity; and while admitting the presence of
that power, as incidental to humanity, in
woman, deny that an example of it, Hioupli
exhibiting an unusually high order of a cer-
tain grade of mental superiority, is of avail
against our assumptions respecting the abuse
OCGHT MOXKT TO BB niTniXSIC OR SYMBOLICAL?
227
«f mestal power 'crhen it h inordinately
possessed by woman.
We dionld wonder at the flaency of an
idiot, the strength of a maniac, the acute
reasBags displayed in the uncontrolled ha-
n3pa of a lunatic; but sorely, being sur-
pabc. we shoold not deem them worthy of
<^^^2kti(n and praise.
•^ thoi^h there are many cases in which
^^^^tnde. perKmal couraj^e, readiness for
'saptioQ to adrene circomstances, energy,
pr^piitude, and physical skill and force,
^^. m a remarkable degree, been exem-
pli£cd in wooaan, yet we may not argue that
vjs«3 is the fit subject for occupying those
?^i in which these excellences may be
■^^^^cd by constant use. No! Grace Dar-
^, Catherines of Russia, and other heroines
W boioared the world; but we must not,
^^^o^ore, presume that their sex are to fill
t^ tiSees in which they shone.
To what conclusion, then, do we now
inevitably arrive? Obviously, if wo have
shown that which we intended, to this, —
Woman is mentally inferior to man. The
circumstances which accompanied the coming
of Eve into the world appear to subtend this
view. We do not refer to Milton's portrai-
ture of that event. He had, prior to his
entrance on "Paradise," passed through
"experiences," which peculiarly unfitted
him for correctly seeing the connexion
between that event and subsequent history.
Little reliance, then, may be placed in
the views which ancient poels convey of
the relationships, mental or circumstantial,
between woman and man. Correct judg-
ment can be attained only by personal
observation. The fruits of the mind, as the
fruits of all things else, are the only means of
rational decision respecting the source of
those fruits. Senoj.
OUGHT 3I0XEY TO BE IXTKINSIC OB SY^IBOLICAL ?
INTRINSIC— II.
^ The currency involves principles very
^*^ understood by the masses of mankind,
*>i yet it is a subject which is every day
t^^zaing greater importance; we therefore,
]^h peat satisfaction, hail its mtroduction
=i'-» tbt pages of the ControveniaUsi,
It ie«ms to be universally acknowledged
^^ there should be a circulating medium —
* 'ttaodanl of exchange— of some kind or
' *b*r: and the necessity of it is so evident,
5^ it seeds no a^umcnts to demonstrate
3*- The most savage tribes estimate the
^w «f commodities by reference to some
r^nieslar object, such 2ts the skins of beasts,
^8s, pwrder, shot, various kinds of cattle,
* -. But wherever they have been obtain-
^X tbe metals, more especially gold and
R>w, have been preferred; and this for
^«rU ressoos, — their scarcity, their dura-
U!]fv, the £fficu)ty of procuring and re-
fe©? them ; and these, with the fact of
^^ being articles suitable for use and
*f2sffient, and therefore of intrinsic value,
have marked them as the most suitable
articles for a circulating medium. Hence
we find all the more civilized nations have
made these two articles the chief medium of
exchange.
And now comes the question — Should this
medium of exchange possess an intrinsic or
symbolical value ? By the former is meant
something which shall possess a value in
itself, apart from the fact of its being the
circulating medium, by its being of certain
use in the economy of life or labour. By
the latter is meant something which shall
possess only a fictitious value; something
which is so common, or of so little use, as
to be, in itself, valueless; or which, if it does
possess a certain marketable value, yet from
its having a peculiar and distinctive mark
added to it (that is, being made th6 circu-
lating medium), shall have a value added to
it far beyond what tlie expense and labour
of adding that mark shall warrant. A
sovereign may be taken as a fair example of
223
OUGHT MONEY TO BE DTrRCTSlC OB 8TMB0LICAL?
the one; for thoagh 70a may destroy it as a
current ooin of the reahn, by beating it oat
of its shape, or melting it, its value is there-
by little, if at all, decreased. A check
mil serve as an example of the other, which,
being worth. many pounds, will, merely by
the erasure of the name of the drawer,
become valueless.
Now, the circulating medium of this and
every other European country essentially
possesses an intrinsic value. For, though
there are some pieces of paper called notes,
not possessing an intrin&ic value of one
farthing, whioli will, nevertheless, pass cur-
rent for many pounds, yet they do so only
because they bear a promise that the holder
shall be entitled to that number of pounds
in gold and silver; and which, on presentation
to the drawer he can obtain. Now this
being the case, it is evident, that as these
notes are only of value because specie can
be obtained for them, specie is the true cir-
culating medium.
Gold and silver are recognised as possess-
ing nearly the same marketable value all
over the world; their relative value (that
of gold to silver being in the proportion of
about 15^ to 1) being likewise nearly the
same in every country.
Now, the exchangeable value of all com-
modities depends — 1st, upon the scarcity of
the material of which they are made; 2ndly,
upon the amount of labour expended upon
them; and drdly, upon the quantity supplied
as compared with the quantity demanded.
These are as much qualifications of the
value of gold and silver as of any other
commodities. This bemg the case, and these
two articles being recognised as the medium
of exchange — money — by all civilized
nations, they cannot as such be scarce, so
that there shall be a deficiency in the value
of the circulation of nations. As the value
of gold and silver in a great measure depends
upon their scarcity, the smaller the quantity
supplied, the greater will be the value of
that which is supplied. So if the supply be
20,000,000 lb., instead of 10,000,000 lb.,
the vidue of the circulation will not be
materially increased. This would not be
equally true of bullion (that is, gold and
silver unwrought, not coined or made the
circulating medium); for there bemg an
increased supply, and consequently a decrease
in the value, it would be more generally
used, and thus the increased demand would
in part counteract the effect of the increased
supply.
That the value of gold and silver in a
great measure depends upon the quantity
supplied, we shall soon have— if we have
not had—proof. It may be remembered that
the Chancellor of the Exchequer (Disraeli),
in lately addressing his constituents, attri-
buted the rise in the price of com, not to
any increase in the value of the article, but
to a decrease in the value of gold, owing to
the increased quantity supplied from the
fields of California and Austndia. Whether
this be so or not, it is not our province here
to inquire: but that gold, from the cause
above alluded to, will be depreciated in
value, and that to a very considerable extent,
there cannot be the slighteat doubt.
But to return. If the supply of gold be
doubled, there will not be really a greater
value of money in circulation, if, from that
fact, the price of commodities rise in the
same proportion. Money is only of value
to us as it enables us to purchase those
articles of which we stand in need; and
unless an increased supply of money will
enable us to obtain an increased quantity
of commodities, what does it profit us to
possess it !
We have been thus particular in p<Hntiog
out that there can be no real scarcity of
money, because we believe that it is an
argument against a ciroulating medium of
an intrinsic value, that there is not enough
of it to allow of industry and energy being
exerted to the utmost; that, in fact, mankind
cannot labour so much or so advantageooslr
as they would do, if greater quaniUieM of
money were in circulation. We have en-
deavoured to show that there is a fallacy in
this argument, and that there can be no real
scarcity of money. At the same time, there
may be and frequently is a scarcity of money
in one country at compared with anotker ^
or amongst one class as compared •mith.
another; or with one individual as compared
with another. But this is so, not b^ans»
there is any real scarcity, of money in the
world, but because the poor countiy, oliuM,
or individual, has not the means of procnring^
it; that is, they cannot produce articles for
which there is a demand so cheap as others ^
OCGUT MOOTEY TO BE CmtnCSIC OB 8TMBOL1CAL ?
229
V tbej ctimot dispose of those articles
v^ tliej ha>re prodaced, owing to the
vaAtU being glatted: there is either a
dsSdcBt drmand for gooda on hand, or there
H & vnt of meaiia, or of indnstry, to obtain
the BKCflaiy capital to prodnce commodities.
A aden ma j stand in this disadvantageons
fBBtiaa vith regard to another, owing to its
^opiphicai position, the natore of its soil,
I njaaH defect in its laws, the slothfalness
d its popolatioo, &c. ; or firom some more
iBB^aruj canae, snch as the failure of a
^ from which one of its most staple
tftides of commerce was prodaced. Under
tiis latter drcnmstance, that nation wonld
aOI be under the necessity of applying to
&>reig& aations for those articles for which
it eas dependent npon them, whilst it wonld
W vithoot that article which it had pre-
^>]t been in the habit of exporting; and
ikss it woold became drained of its gold, as
u keeps paying away money and receiving
^'^oe; aad a scarcity of money will be the
2eTitsble consequence. In snch a case, the
Hppiy not being equal to the demand, its
"^^^ win liae, whereapon it will leave those
l^ti where it is plentiful, and hence of less
raise, aad come to that place where more
<% be obtained for it; and thus the equili-
^=m vnll be restored.
Fnm what has been already said, it will
'"« perceived that the wealth of a nation
ffcpeods upon the amount of commodities
vibich, inm its industry, position, soil, &c^
s is able to produce: and that amount is
nvvmadd. by the money which it possesses.
Fraei this it follows that a nation or indi-
vidaal cannot possess money — money of an
ittriauc value — except as the price of com-
Bo^ties frodnced and sold.
S^ then, briefly, are the leading prin-
cipks vjncfa follow a currency of an intrinsic
'c^abe. Wherein consists the erii, we are
whflfir at a loss to imagine. We have
suMii that a scarcity of money is only a
?^^ive tenn; that there must always be a
^Aaemcj of* money of an intrinsic value,
Mt Bccettarily in circalation, but somewhere.
^* ham shown that no nation, class, or in-
djT^daal, can possess money, who cannot
pt^aee sonethisg—something which is
w«iied — in excha^ for it. We ask, if it
b* not just and natural that it should be
•»: if there siioDld not be a relative scarcity
^ weoer where there is a relative scarcity
of commodities produced ? We hold that
it is. Where then, we again ask, are the
evils which attend a cnrrency of an intrinsic
value?
Let us now turn to the consideration of
money of a symbolical value. •
A medium of exchange of a purely and
wholly symbolical value is something quite
untried : the effect of its introduction must,
therefore, necessarily be to a certain extent
speculative. That its introduction must be
universal is evident; otherwise no commerce,
except in the way of barter, could be carried
on between nations differing in so important
a particular as the mode of payment by
a cnrrency of an intrinsic value and one of
a symbolical value. For no country where
the currency was of the former description,
would import articles into a country which
cooM only pay for them in a currency of the
latter description.
We will suppose, then, money possessing
only a symbolical value to be universally
adopted. We will further suppose paper to
be the article selected, as that possesses
many of the essential qualities of a circu-
lating medium. It is easy of production, of
but little intrinsic valne, light and portable,
and capable of being made to occupy little
space. It is moreover capable of being made
to represent any value, and if destroyed its
place is easily and cheaply supplied. All
these qualities point it out as the article
most likely to be adopted in case such a
change in the currency as that above sup-
posed were actually to take place. Having
supposed thus much, we really are at a loss
what to suppose next, so as to make the
supposition, if carried into practice, work-
able. But as this paper money is sym-
bolical, there must be sometliing of which it
is the symbol. What is it to ^ ? Wheat,
land, timber, flour, sheep, horses, bullocks ;
what ? We really are at a loss to say. All
these articles are oontinually changing their
relative value. To-day wheat is plentiful
and cheap: a year hence it is scarce and
dear. To-day my paper money, representing
so many loads of wheat, will buy me one
house: a year hence that same money, re-
presenting the same quantity of wheat, will
buy me two of the same description. To-
day 1 am a poor man : a year hence, pos-
sessing the same amount of paper money,
comparatively speaking, a rich one. £vi-
230
OUGHT MONEY TO BE INTRINSIC OR STMBOLICAL?
dently, then, ^heat is too changeable in its
valae to serve as the article, from the repre-
sentation of a certain amount of which the
paper currency shall derirc its value. Kor,
for the same reason, will timber or cattle do.
Land is an article which changes its value
less frequently, and to a leSs extent; for the
supply being always the same, one of the
chief essentials to a changeable value is
wanting. Will that serve ? Let us see.
We hold in our hand a paper note repre-
senting the valne of an acre of land. Some
land will yield forty bushels of wheat per
acre; other lands twenty only ; and a third
acre but ten. That note will represent
either a value of forty, twenty, or ten ; which-
ever yon please. The supply of land in
America being greater than the demand,
whilst in England the contrary is the case,
that same note may be worth ten, twenty, or
even one hundred times more in England
than in America. Again, one acre of land
is situated in a town, and being suitable for
building purposes, is worth ten times as
much as an acre of plough land. The
vaiious portions of the soil, then, differ too
much in their relative value to serve as the
commodity which this paper money is to
symbolize. Bullion, will that serve ?
What ! Gold and bilver still to be the
standard of exchange I What does it profit
you to do away with gold and silver as the
real circulating medium, if that which takes
its place is only of value as it represents a
certain amount of the same article, only in
its unwrought state ? It may be answered
(and we think it is on this supposed rock
that our opponents will build the structure
of their argument), that the government of
a nation may issue these notes representing
a value much greater than it really pos-
sesses in bullion; and thus the amount of
the currency will be much greater than it is
at present; and mankind will be benefited
by money being more plentiful. To a certain
extent we are aware this might be done. In
fact, it is now done to a certain extent, in
this and most other European countries.
For example, both the Bank of England and
private banks issue notes representing a
much greater value — four or five times
greater — than they possess in gold and
silver. Nevertheless, it still holds true that
tliese notes are only of value as 6|)ecie can
be obtained for them ; and it is only by a
most admirable system of management that
the issnera are enabled to meet the dcmaud.
The fact is, four or five different notes are
cashed by the same specie, which is managed
to be obtained faster than the notes are
presented for payment. But it is only
credit which enables them to do this; for as
the credit of the bank decreases, so will thf
value of its notes. The same thing is true
of a nation. Beyond a certain extent it
could not issue paper money representing a
greater valne than it possessed in bullion;
for the more it issued the less would be its
value; and in time the oountry^s credit
would be gone, and with it the value of its
paper money. We ask, then, where would
be the profit of abolishing gold and silver as
a medium of exchange, if that which take^
its place is only of value as it represents it ?
Besides, if such were done, would they &till
possess the same relative value all over the
world ? Would they not be of greater valuo
in those countries where they were ina*.t
used in manufactures ? Nor would thi>.~o
nations which did not make the same use of
them supply the demand ; as, in retnr:;,
they would only receive ihjit which iv-
presented the article, for the artlc;<'
itself.
We cannot conceive, then, what shoaM be
the article of which this paper money is to
be the symbol. There must be somethin:
which it shall symbolize; otherwise, if it wtnv
possible to confine each nation in theamouTit
it issued (and this you must do, otherwises
if each nation might issue as much as ii
pleased, it would become worthless, owinc:
to the easiness of obtaining it), a poor nation,
that is, a nation not capable, or wanting the
industry, to produce its share of commc
dities, might issue paper money to a greater
or as great a value, as one th.it both could
and did pix)duce its share, or even more than
its share, of commodities : that is, the rtallif
less wealthy nation would have a greait r
Jictitiom wealth, which at the same tim^
passed as wealth, than its really more
wealthy neighbour. This certainly appc&rs
to be unnatural, and, we cannot but thiuk,
unjust also.
Not being able to see any evil in the pre-
sent system of currency, it having besii\c^
the advantage of being the only one tixa^
has been tried, and the additional one ••t*
being practised by every nation that ].^s,
OUGHT HONEY TO BE INTRINSIC OR SYMBOLICAL ?
2.11
existed; whilst, on the other hand, a cur-
letK V possessing onlj a gjinbolical Taino is
IS yet untried, and moreover, in our opinion,
is impracticable; we unhesitatinfjly ans-svor,
that money should possess an intrinsic
value. F. F.
SYMBOLICAL.— II.
As I am fhllj alive to the trutli and im-
pottmce of the cause of representative money,
or psper money, I append my name, as a
0edge to the readers of this most improving
aod impartial periodical, that I am not
isliamed of the doctrines, bat esteem it an
boooar to be an hmnble instrument in laying
them before your readers. I sincerely believe
that gdd money has been an unmitigated
cone to the people of the earth ; that it has
W sdopted owing to the gross material
stUeimo which man has fallen; and that it
ittrpified in the worship of mammon dc-
Di»sced in the scriptures. Gold money has ;
Ktfcdy any advantage over barter; for
« if it crfiviates the difficulties of barter, it
widely departs from the justice of that pri-
mitive nude of exchange. The problem
Hiadi money reformers have to solve is,
"To invent a paper or representative money,
tliich shall combine the justice of barter
with the convenience of money."
In advocating paper money, I labour imder
pot disadvantages. It has been often
nsorted to — bot not on principle — as a last
Rswrce in desperate national crises. It has
Wn mthleasly issued without any basis of
libKnr or production behind it. R. L. G.
^ find no ni<n^ determined opponent than <
fejself to an unlimited issue of paper. I am
>B advocate for any needy adventurer to take
tpiece of paper, sign it, and pass it off as
■iaej, any more than I would be an ad-
^'Qcate he the issue of a bill of lading which
^ao canro behind it; or of a warehouse
*umt with no goods in the warehouse; or
tf s bill of exdiangc and no effects. It is
fS^uBst gold I am a determined enemy. But
|f B. L. G. would take one step in advance
Atheaignmoit, and, allowing that no single
(ooaudity can represent the value of all
<facr eommoditiea, will discuss with me how
^ paper money be issued, that it shall
>tv«r be in excess or in deficiency as com-
{■ftdwith population and consequent pro-
^Mioo, I abonld with pleasure go into that
'■■portant inquiry.
^ L G. refen to the continental money
^ the American War of Independence.
Why, what would he have? They ha.l no
gold nor silver. They were obliged to issue
paper, and that paper won their independence.
Why find fault with an instrument tli.ic
effected its purpose? Then the French
assignats! that staple argument with bul'
lionists. Why, the French assignats saved
the republic. This powerful instrument pre-
cipitated armies on every frontier of France.
It is a fact — by Carlyle admitted in his
French Revolution — that though the excesses
of that convulsion have filled posterity with
horror, yet that the condition of the people
was never better. But let R. L. G. mark
this, that I still maintain that, powerful as
this instrument has been for national pur-
poses, it has been empirically issued. R. L. G.
must know that tlie assignats were issued
at first on a sound basis, on the national
domains, and then performed all the func-
tions of a legitimate money; but unscru-
pulous men afterwards issued them rutl:-
Icssly and without any base of labour or
land, and then depreciation — excessive de-
preciation— ensued.
R. L. G. alludes to Russian paper money.
The Russians were wise enough to invent
an internal money with which to transact
internal business, and so send all their gold
to this country, where they got four pounds
an ounce for it. I only wish the Cali-
fomians and Australians were equally ni&c ;
it might open our eyes to the folly and
insanity of our gold worship.
" The true theory of currency can only
1)0 that which practice has taught us.'*
Was ever such a doctrine enunciated ! The
true theory of roads can only be that which
practice has taught us; — have nothing to do
with railways. The true theory of trans-
mission of thought can only be that which
practice has taught us; — do not theorize
about electric telegraphs. Sir Robert Peel's
law, that the immense transactions of this
country shall, although amounting to thou-
sands of millions, be ultimately resolvable
into some fifty millions of gold, is what
practice teaches, the cause and source of the
incalculable ruin which fell on our tradin<^
232
OUGHT XOXKY TO BB IXTRIKSIC OR STXBOUCAL ?
interests in October, 1847 ; — do not let the
experience of that fatal year indace yon, says
B. L. G., to see whether money may not be
based on some philosophical axioms. Prac-
tice ! Practice teaches us, that so unbear-
able was Peel's bill, which is a legitimate
ballionist bitl| carried oat to its legitimate
consequences, that it was suspended and
declared unworkable.
It seems I have Montesquieu and Smith,
Peel and Homer, quoted aa authorities. I
could quote Sir Bobert Peel's fstheraa a set-
off to the son, and I will Tenture to put Mr.
Matthias Attwood against Mr. Homer.
Adam Smith most nnacoonntably slurred
over the question of money and its prin-
ciples; and against Montesquieu I put our
own Bbbop Berkeley, 1^0 asks some most
pertinent questions, namely, " Whether money
is to be considered aa having an intrinsic
value, or as being a commodity, a standard,
or a pledge, as is variously suggested by
writers;" and "Whether the troe idea of
money as such be not altogether as a ticket or
counter? " This great thinker saw the im-
portance of the money question, for he asks
again, "Whether the use and nature of
money, which all men so eagerly pursue, be
yet sufficiently understood and considered
by all ? " He puts another question, which
B. L. G. may answer at his leisure, " Whe-
ther paper doth not, by its stamp and signa-
ture, acquire a local value, and become as
precious and as scarce as gold, and whether
it be not much fitter to circulate large sums,
and, therefore, preferable to gold f "
Labour is the source of all wealth, and
money should be only the certiiicate or
memorandam of wealth. Now, I ask, is not
an insane demand for gold, as a money,
ruining Australia? The whole population
have turned out, left their skilful employ-
ments, ceased to cultivate the land, ceased
to build their houses, ceased to follow their
useful occupation, and converted them-
selves, under the premium of one fixed price
— four pounds an ounce — into so many
gnibbers into holes and cinder-shifters. I
may be mistaken, but I say, tbat if gold
WAS deprived of its money function, it would
only be worth, at this moment, for its in-
trinsic qualities so useful to art, about one
pound an ounce, owing to its miraculous
discovery in such large quantities.
R. L. G. says, " Aa amicable foreign rela-
tions wane, the value of symbolical money
must wane also.** Not at all. The object
of an internal currency is for internal pur-
poses, and its great beauty iS| that the actiua
of foreign exdianges never withdraws it.
R. L. G. must know that foreigners do not
take our sovereigns — gwui sovereigns — but
a certain weight of a valuable article of
commerce; and paper monej would allow
every ounce of gold to leave the country
without the slightest inoonvenieace, for the
paper would supply its place. B. L. G.
must be informed, moreover, that we have
had an internal money, not made of paper,
but of wood. He knows, I am sure, all
about exchequer tallies — it would be im-
pertinence for me to teach him what every
tyro knows, that the exchequer tally was
wooden money, and worked in the fol-
lowing manner : —
The king wanted, say, a war horse, and
taking one, paid the owner with an exche-
quer tally. The owner of the horse next
day bought sheep from his neigbbour, and
paid him with the ]neee of wood with certain
conventional notches on it. The kin^, de-
manding taxes from the owner of the alkeep,
received the piece of wood, which was can-
celled by the exchequer. So that practice
is not altogether on B. L. G.'s side.
I do not want to quote authorities, for
paper money is a new question, and has
never, I admit, been issued on scientific prin-
ciples; but I can, if space allow, quote
Gcnerid Harrison, Dr. Franklin, Sir Robert
Peel the elder. Sir Walter Scott, under his
signature, **Malachi Malagrowther," and
Bishop Berkeley. I could show that Amo-
rioa, by Genenl Jackson's idolatry of gold,
was couTuIsed to her centre. I could show
that it WHS paper money that enabled Pitt
to elevate the country at home, and to con-
quer Bonaparte. And I could show that if
we had paper money issued haitd fide on
labour and products, that the illimitaMo
powers of this country to produce might then
have fair play— eveiy man at work, ereiy
steam-engine in full operation; that poor
rates might be annihilated; and that if anv
great work could not be prosecuted, it would
never be for want of moiMy, but because ererr
man was so deeply engaged, tbat there ws^
no spare laboar free and at liberty to prose-
cute it.
James Harvet.
8m>lRS FOK TJ.Vr STl- DENTS 233
STUDIES FOR LAW STUDENTS.
As thid magazine inclndes in the ranks of its readers a lar;rc number of joung men who
iatfid to follow the profession of the Law, either as solicitors or barristers ; and as
I'nqaeit ioqairies arc addressed to the Editors fi)r information on various topics relating to
tibs KiinisitioD of such tjeneral knowledt/e, fey students, as may be found of service to them,
rtlbff in preparing for or following their i)rofession ; it is proposed from time to time, as
9t»skm may require, to devote some space to their especial ser%'ice.
We know that by some persons it is held to be unnecessary, and even dangerous, for a
•Went to direct his attention to branches of knowlcilcrc other than those immediately
*p{«rt»bing to his intended profession. But it is to this principle we attribute the not
'Bfrfqaait occurrence of learned men (so-called) exposing themselves to ridicule the
^"xatat they step from the path of their own immediate experience. As the Greek
t-'i^edian beautifully said, that b«»ing human, he considered nothing alien to him which
"Jited to humanity, so wo think that the etudent at law should deem no knowledge
"■ioiiortant to him, which will bo likely, in any way, to aid him in his professional career,
^ There, we ask, is there a profession in wliich such a diversity of knowledge is essential
to iDccej? as in the law? One day the solicitor or barrister may be engaged in pro-
tetiug his client from the piracy of some mechanical invention or sciontific discovery; the
•tt, prosecuting upon a breach of the law of copyright; and a third, examining the
iRoonts of a bankrupt. There is, in fact, no assigned limits to the diversity of knowledge
•^^dred of him; and. as a general rule, he will succeed best whose mind has been best
fRpiied to grapple with these changes.
It may not be necessary to adopt any particular rules for the acquisition of this
•(•dary or supplemental knowledge. Tlic course adopted will drpend upon the individual
'Wtiet and opportunities of students, as well also as upon their tastes and inclinations,
■■i even upon the particular branch of the profession they intend to follow. For thesi*
'■•oos we shall adopt no given order in our intended remarks and recommendations, but
•^Air take them as they suggest themselves to us, or as we have reduced them to
Aaamiog each student to have finished his sciiooii KnrcATio>f, either as a prelude to
•■ext studies, or concurrently with thMm,let him acquire a perfect and ready knowledge
'noMgood system of short-hand. To acquire this knowledge, so as to be really useful,
*i oeenpy some time, and be attended with some littli> trouble. But that time and trouble
•Sllwwell repaid. The student unacquainted with tliis art can form no conception of its
^Bf advantages. Throughout all his after studies it will be one of his best, because most
•"kfihle, friends. For reports, for marginal notos, for extracts from works read, for
•Rbj precedents, and for correspondence with other students, nothing can exceed its
■''iBtages. It stimulates to industry, and matorially lessens the labour attending it.
^Acr ebtaining an aeqnaintance with the most poj)ular systems in practice, wc can recom-
■oid PUmam*i Pkonoffrapkic Short-ITand as the i>est for all the purposes enumerated.
234 STUDIES FOR LAW STUDEXTS.
The next thing is for the student to provide himself with an Index Rerum and a Ctwitnon-
place Book, Of the former, Todd's (price 3«. 6<i.) is the best. The latter may be made to
the student's own taste. BIae-iin<*d paper with a margin forms the most convenient sort
we have seen. The purpose of the Index Rerum is, as its name implies, to make an index
of the facts and information acquired in the process of reading and studj. As the book
we have recommended contains full instructions for its use, we need only remark, that as
we all know how much sooner knowledge is lost than gained, any plan which will enable
us to retain it at our fingers' ends, ready for any emergency, must be exceedingly valuable.
Some students have found that with a carefully kept Index Rerum they had but little need
for a Common-place Book in addition. This will depend pretty much upon the student's
own taste. Whilst reading, we often find passages which bear with peculiar force upoiix
points to us posses&ing more than ordinary interest. The object of our Common-place
Book is to get into one collected form, ready for easy reference, the opinions of different
writers and speakers upon these particular points. Short-band makes the process one of
little trouble, and that little is amply repaid by the result As the student advances, a
Precedent Booh will be required — but of this more anon.
Next, the studont should be thinking about the various means of acquiring a proficiency
in the art of public apeaklig. Too much importance can hardly be attached to thit
acquisition. If the student intends to qualify for the bar, his road to eminence, as it has
been said, *Mies through his tongue;" and even as a solicitor, he will find freqnent occasion
to speak in public, and his clients will soon appreciate any excellence he may possess ia
this particular.
There are various methods by which the student may attain proficiency in this art.
One of the fir&t requisites is hwicledge^ for unless a man possesses a dear knoDvlcdge of tbo
matter on which he has to speak, and even of its bearings, he will find great d\^u\t7 in
delivering himself eloquently. Next, he should make himself acquainted tvith the bo^t
models of eloquence, not for the purpose of becoming a mere reciter, or a servile copyist of
the style or language of another; but that by seeing the excellences of others, he may be
encouraged and aided in making himself excellent Then he must rRAcncE. A ma'^
may be acquainted with all the best models — may be able to sit in critical judgment up>.^
them— and may also have a mind well stored with information; but unless he ha<
given some time and pains to practice, he will most likely make a miserable failure a^^
an orator. In public speaking there is required certain gestures — " suiting the action t»
the word " — which can only be acquired by practice. But it is not our purpose to give in-
struction in oratory; we will therefore only refer our readers to the " Guide to Oratory'
(Mitchell, London), and proceed.
The student will naturally a^k where he is to practice oratory? He canaot commence
before public assemblies, and does not care to practice in his own chambers. In fact, ':i
one case the excitement would be too great^ in the other too little, WUat, lh«n, is tvj
be done? In almost eveiy town there is, or should be, a Debating Club or a ZHscnsfi- .1
ClasSf where questions of present or permanent interest are opened and discussed on lV.>
plan adopted in this magazine. At such meetings the student has the advantage of t'..
stimulus which the presence of a mixed audience of friends and strangers genera*.'
imparts, and which will prompt him to endeavour to excel. In the biographies of nearly .
REPOBTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOOIEnES.
235
the great men of modem times, we have observed that they at some period of their
life had joined a debating club, and many of our living orators have derived great
usistance from this source. Let the student, then, enrol himself a member of one of these
dnbs; and let him do so with a steady determination to gain his end, and lie will succeed.
ll'ibere be no such class, let him forthwith call the other students of his town together
and form one; but, if possible, let it be in connexion with some literary or scientific society,
aad not at an inn or tavern.
Iksides the direct advantage of attainin:^ fluency and readiness in public speaking,
^m^ societies offer additional and peculiar advantages to law students. In them they
Wn that every question has two sides : and hence they also learn not to place implicit
^iiance upon either until the other has been well discussed and considered. They more-
over become accustomed to sift the arguments of the various speakers, and by degrees are
cabled to judge of those which arc based upon sophistry, or seek to promulgate fallacious
officlasirnw, and can treat them for what they are worth. By the4»o means they are
rradiullT preparing tiiemselres for the proper discharge of those duties which will appertain
tu tiidr ioteuded profession : this is a point never to be lost sight of. Perhaps we cannot
^i«T clench our argmnent for the acquisition of general knowledge by the law student,
^ by citing the following extract from Bi^ur's Essays: — *' Besides the knowledge that
pt'operlj belongs to that profession to which he addicts himself, a public speaker, »/'«rerAe
^'pfcU to be eminent, must make himself acquainted, as far as his necessary occupations
*lbir, with the general circles of polite literature. The study of poetry may be useful
to him on many occasions, for embellishing his style, fur suggesting lively images, or
^rteable ailu»ions. The study of history may be still more useful to him; as the know-
^e of facts, of eminent characters, and of the course of human affairs, finds place on
Sanv occasions. There are Jho great occasions Jhr public speaking in ichich one will not
^'« amstance/rom cultivated ta»te and extensive knowledge. They will often yield him
'BJterials for proper ornament; sometimes for argument and real use. A deficiency of
^vkdge^ even in subjects that belong not directly to his own profession , will expose him
^nany disadvantages^ and give better qttalified rivals superiority over him»"
C. W., Jun.
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
JfSiifcctr Jifeehanies' Institution. — On Friday
'*aioir, the 19th March, upwards of 200 or the
■Btabm and friends of the above institution
^•social festiTal in the Congregational Hall.
•^ fre^dent, Mr. H. Koss, oecupied the chair,
*4 4diva«d an ezeeUeut a^ldress upon " The
^^vwapes of Knowledge." The following mem-
|(B addmsed the meeting during the evening :
V. S. Crawtord, on ** The Social Condition uf
l( Workiof ClaMe« in the Olden Time ;" Mr. J.
wdfip,on ** Some of the Causes of I^orance ; "
v^T.Doon^, on "The Process of Moral Rp-
iHtsa is the Mind." " National Education and
||> ptabable BesulU upon Mechanics' Institu-
Ms," waa popalarly treated of by H. Carmi-
()M; «ko, after teielly alluding to the necessity
^« grand and eompcehensiTe system of educa-
tion, and the duty of government in referexice
thereto, proceeded to provn that the cry which is
being raised against a national systnm of secular
education, as being "godless " and " irreligious," is
founded on the delusion, that by making religious
instruction imperative—by making it a matter of
statutory business — by obliging the schoolmaster
to teach it— security is thereby Axmished for in-
culcating respect, and inducing love for religion.
He strongly urged the importance of the wonting
classes uniting in support of a truly national
system of secular education (the only common
ground upon which all can meet), and thereby
secure to every child within these realms what he
conceived to be their inalienable right, a good
and useful rducation. He then went on to deli-
neate the beneficial reiults which wotdd flow
236
RKFORTS OF MUTUAL I3IPR0VEMCNT SOCIETIES.
from Mechanic*' InttitatioDs, could they be ren-
dered national, so as to make them a part or the
po|mlar instruction, and drew a bright and hope-
ful picture of the position sueh institutions would
oocupj under a national system. He concluded
hj maintaining that a liberal and judicial system
of national education would secure for these in-
stitutions an amount of success commensurate
with their design and universal importance. A
musical party was in attendance, and contributed
much to rafiTen the proceedings, by giving in
good style several select glees, duets, and solos.
Keflreshments in pastry and fhiit were st* n'ed to
the companjr during the evening, and the meeting
passed off with the greatest eclat ; forming a most
appropriate finale to the present session, which
has been one of the most sucoessAil in the annals
of the institution ; thirteen public lectures having
been delivered upon highly useftU and inteitsting
subjects, many of them by gentlemen of first-
rate talent and ability. Several liberal donations
have been received fmm the gentlemen in the
neighbourhood, thereby enablmg the directors
to oevelop more Ailly the advantagies of the insti-
tution, by adding a fresh supply of those solid
fruits of mental toil which ^o to malce up onr
national Uleratore ; and placmg them withm the
reach of those to whom, but for such institutions,
they would have remained inaccessible.
Ix. C.f Sec.
Shirley t near Southampton.— The second anni-
versary of the Shirley Mutual Improvement So-
ciety was celfbrated March 24th, 1852, on which
occasion about eighty friends sat down to tea.
A meeting was aHerwards held for the purpose of
fVirthering the objects of the society, when the
Mayor of Southampton, R. Andrews, Esq., pre-
sided. After an opening address by the chair-
man, the secretary read a pap^r illustrating the
ol^ects and principles of the society, and reporting
the operations of the institution for the past year;
from which it appeared that 29 lectures hod been
delivered, and 13 discussions held, and 33 members
received into the society. Addresses were deli-
vered by the Revs. MeMrs. Hugh, H utton, Alexan-
der, M'Laren,and T. Falvey, Esq. The enjoyment
of the evening was greatly enhanced by the per-
formances of a glee party, and by several recita-
tions from members and others. At the close the
whole company joined in sinaing the national
anthem, and separated highly delighted with the
evening's eutertainmenL
South WaUt.—Merihyr-Tytlvil Tovtig Men*
Mutual Improvement Society. — This society was
established in April, 1861, in fhe following'man-
ner:— Some praiseworthy young men, anxious
for the welfare of others, caused printed bills to
be placarded over the town, inviting the public.
esptTially young men of all grades, to a public
preliminary meeting for the puiprse of forming a
society for mutual improvement. There was a
very pood attendance at the meeting, and peveral
frentl&men delivered able addrcj'ses, shewing
the benefits that wruld be derived frcm surh a
society. At the elope of the meeting a com-
mittee of twenty was rhnsen, for the purpose
of drawing up rules and regulations for the
society, and the ncmes and subscripticns of psr-
ties wishing to brroroe membrrs were receivtd.
The prinrifal rules and reculaticns dravin up by
the committee and adopted by the members were
j as follow:-^ That the society should ha called,
" The Merthyr Young Men's Mutual Imnrove-
I ment Society ; " that each member ahoold sub-
I scribe ona shilling per quarter, to be paid in ad-
vance ; that none but members should be allowed
to attend the meetioga: that the affkurs of the
societT should be managed by a president, vice-
president, secretary, and committee of twdve;
that the said officers should be elected on the last
evening in every quarter by a majority of the
member*— the mode of election being by ballot ;
that meetings should be held twice in every week,
viz., on Tuesday evening, for the purpose of
debating, or of bearing an essay on some inte-
resting subject by one of the members ; and on
Thursday evening, for the purpose of holding
classes for instruction in grammar, aiithmetic,
geography, &c.
The only alterations that have baen made in
these rules are, that each member is now allowed
to introduce one friend or acquaintance into the
society's room once during each quarter; and
that parties wishing to join must request members
to propose them, and then be admitiad by a
general ballot
On the first evening of every quarter we request
some gentleman of known abilities to deliver a
public lecture, which is duly announced by
printed bills. We have also printed carda, for
the pocket, containing the list of sulgects for each
quarter. We now number about thGiy membem.
President, Rev. J. C. Campbell, MjI. ; vicse-pre-
sident, Mr. William M'Wiiliam; secretary, Mr.
William M. yuller.
Some of the members, including myself, take in
the British Controferiialist, and regard it as a
publication of inestimable value, that cannot l»e
too widely circulated or highly prized.
I have been thus explicit, thinking that what
is here stated may be of service to aimilstf sn-
cieties. I>. J.
Oreenurich Literary In$titution. — The »econ»1
quarterly meeting of the members of the £1octi.
tion Class was held in the great hall of thi*^
institution, on Wednesday the 24th of March^
1852. Newton Crossland, Esq., of Hyd* V&lc
BlarkLeath, presided on the occasion.
The chairmen cnmmenced the business of tl<t-
evening with a »hoTt but i^ipropriate •dtirr*^*'.
The first part of tlie entertaiiinxnt ppeneti «itl
Scene 3, Act I., of Shakspeare's Henry I J\ "I he
King was personated by Mr. James ; Hotspur.
by Mr. D. P. Waters, who ^ve the part mith
much effect, and succeeded m calling fortli a
renernl expression of applause frcm the msctienr^ ,
Northumberland and Worcester were represexii<>|
by Mrssr5. Jackson and B. W. Smith.
A scene frcm Charh* Xtl. next foDcwr^d. in
whif-h Mr. Talbot elieited repeated expresf>>t«m« ^
' applause by the irresistibly ccroie ma&xier ir
nhirh he gave Peter. Then the petite farre o
Pilliroddy succeeded, which afforded mo4rli n>er
rimcnt. A portion of Bourcieault's farrr , (.*»«<
f /), and Tyrrell s rcmic dialogue, in I9<r*»r nf i
Af/tfartoti.were given, in which Messrs. VTairr*
Jack sen. and B- W. Smith, afforded much r zz-.u5<
ment. In addition to the above, there wer<» 9f .^x
good pieces of prose and ^erse, frcm oor j**- i-mji
authors, recited with various degrees of kKiII ^
other members of the dasa in the course of U;
evening.
The audience, rrnsisting of between TOO ^i
THE INQL'IREB.
23:
yOymom,aetmed. mach plauad with Ui« even*
It ii hopail that tiicM qoarterlx elocntioiuuT
I vill be earned on with as much
spirit and enertff M hitherto, and thoa aAyrd a
treat to the ftianda of mental projiraaa and im-
provement in Greenwich and its neighboaiiiood.
J. W. T.
€^ Srajffirw:,
QCISnONS BEQUIRING <VNSWEBS.
M. I hien gat an idea lately that I can pnrsne
tv)? studies at the same time ; my plan— upon
*sa± I denic the opinion of some one more ez-
pmraced than my self— may be feathered from the
^^lo*iB|r:— I am sufficiently acquainted with
TkoA to be ahle, with litde difficulty, to read an
ntacr in Oiat laniruage, bnt have by no meaxie
(be kaQiantj with it which I am anxious to
iSbb; I am also mt present about to torn my
^sahm to comparative physiology and history,
<3j hiTe ibom;fat if I eotiJd get French works on
lor sofiieets, by their perusal I might increase
^7 kDovtedge of tbe langnage. while I was also
SfKiiaf racfnl knowledge ofanother kind ; should
^ pUn be thoui^ eapable of bein^ advan-
fisiamtiv earrirtd out, I should esteem it a great
^t<oar if some one would inform me of good
ImA pobbeatious under those heads, with
wpcetive prices, and name of London book-
^^fhom whom they may be obtained.
AVARUS.
^•^. Tbe eiftcts of the east wind are felt and
*<<n ^7 every one. and there are few who cannot
('Si^ Co their pxvjadicial influence. And yet what
'* ^ cause ? Their coming fh>m across the con-
"^at (^Eorope cannot be a reason, as traTellers
•3 {4it9 leads speak of the discomfort arising
'pn esterir winds. The locusts covered the
'«fti of Egjrpt, drawn thither by this wind, and
.vio^ all its efibcts are rather of a disastrous
'^sicter. Caa it be, as some have attested, that
^ &e earth's revolution U]K)n its axis it rushes
£^> ikis wind 7 I shall look anxiously for a
^"B^fnurndtd opiMwn. — CoxstantIa.
1Q3. As I am very desirous of acquiring a
'Woe^A knowledge of the Greek and I^in lan-
na^^, but iMve no friend near to direct me, I
^'^M feel thankful to any of your learned cor-
"vsi&aAEBSB for a few directions as to the best
SM^ iar pursaing my studies, together with a
"■fWaotiee of die beat works in connexion wiih
^ kbeve languages. Hopiog that you will deem
aayt^BBt for knowledge a sufficient apology for
tha« ti«ti}»lin|| yoa, I remain, ice.— L. G.
^^ I Bball feel obliged if any of Uie studious
^ i&telfigmt rvaders of the British Contro-
'•frnsUgt will furnish me with thtiir opinions as
*^ Uvs miHty of Common-plare Books. Are they
^^y <^ ■errice to the student, and tthy ? Do they
^ Uie eub^ect more firmly in the memory 7 Are
'^ is^eets entered in a common-place readier
'-^ Ttkmee than to a work itself 7 Is the
*^^tnsB XD general a safflcient compensation for
'ac teee and paper used in making such entries 7
Aii4 it dits plan should be recommended by any,
t^ win oblige by stating the system adopted by
'-TaMix^m m tskUig notes ; whether it is best to
^yrm a sort of distract or analysis of the work
"^arf, <w to take a sentvnee here and there, as you
"i^tj think 9nrh sentenM would be of use 7 For
'^ bener ilhBtxation of this sulgect, I should
feel obliged if they would show me how, In read-
ing the article on Rhetoric, in the last number,
they would take full and copious notes of it ; and
also give me their general plans in reading any
work on literature or science. I should luce to
have the opinions of those who are great readers
and dilij^nt students, and to have fUll directions
and advice on the above points, as I think that
the manner of reading is not of secondary im-
portance to the matter. Indeed we may get more
mformation by reading one book well, than
twenty badly. I should also like to know the
sort of books generally used, and whether one
does for several subjects, or whether it is the best
to have separate ones for each separate subject.
I feel confident that the Editors, with their a'onted
kindness, will not begrudge the space necessary
for such answers, as I think it is a subject which
will be of importance to all who feel interested in
the arduous task of self-cultivation, and par.
ticularly as no remarks on this head have as yet
appeared in this excellent periodical. Answers
to this will be thankfully read by — A Student.
105. "Would you or any of your correspondents
be kind enough to inform me what might be Uie
probable outlay for matriculation at the London
University 7 also, what is the course of study?
Any other information respecting it would oblige.
W. G. C.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
70. Carthaginian Names. — According to Sal-
lust, Adherbal and Mastanabal were Nuraidians.
But it appears that Numidia (as well as Carthage)
was colonized by the PhoBnicians. It is there-
fore highly probable that the same language was
spoken in Numidia as at Carthage — ie., the
Punic. Bochart and many oiliers prove that the
Punic was a language of the same origin as the
Hebrew. (See Bochart de Coloniis et Sermone
Pba:nicum,lib. ii. cap. 1.) The etymology of the
two names may consequently be sought from the
Hebrew.
Adherbal appears to be formed of the two words
adhder, i.e., great, magnificent, or mighty ; and
1/aa/, the name of an idol. Now, Baal, Bal,Bel, or
Belus was the great God of the Carthaginians ;
the name, therefore, signifies the " great Baal,"
Mastanabal. This word seems to be com-
pounded of Mathtana, i. e., gift ; and Baal; and
therefore probably signifies, " the gift of Baal."
77. Mind in its relation to Matter. — We know
of no single work which supplies the desired in-
fonnatioD. Indeed, a complete and comprehensive
treatise on this subject is a desideratum in our
literature. Man-4icience is yet in its infancy: so
far, however, as we are acquainted with the
writings most nearly allied in their topics with the
wants of P. S., we think that the following worits,
read in the order given, would go pretty far towards
settling the views of your correspondent, vix.,
Chambers's "Information for the People" — papers,
238
THE YOUNG STUDENT AND WRITERS ASSISTANT.
*' Phraiology/' and "The Horaan Mind"; Cald.
well's "Thoughts on Physical Education";
Combe's " Constitution-Qf Man," Combe's " System
of Phrenology" ; the three works by A. Combe, E.
Johnson, and S. Smith, mentioned in the Query of
P. S. ; Dr. John Gregory's " Comparative View of
the State and Faculties of Man, with Uiose of the
Animal World" ; Swectser's " Mental Hygiene" ;
Rapport's " Du Physique et du Moral de I'Homme"
(On the Relations of the Physical Organization of
Man to his Moral Faculties), par Pierre Jean
George Cnbunis ; Comte Destutt de Trucy's " Ele-
mensd Ideologie" ; the works of Gall, Spurzheim,
Bronsais, and Azais (of their chief works we be-
lieve there are translations) ; Lawrence's *• Com-
parntive Anatomy," and " Lectures on Man" ; J.
Mill's " Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human
Mind" ; Locke's" Essays," book i. ; Mills " Logic,"
book vi. ; Dr. G. Moore's " Use of the Body in
Relation to Uie Mind," and " Power of the Soul
over llie Body" ; Dr. Wigan'a " Duality of the
Mind" ; Hartley's " Observations on Man ' ; Dr. A.
Smee's " Process of Thought, adapted to Words;"
and, amidst much absurdity, egotism, and equi-
Toque, several items of information may be picked
up from"^ucea PAi/o«opAir<e"(PhiIosophic Nutit),
by the author of" Life, Health, and Disease." The
two works by Upham and Sampson would de-
cidedly be useful ; and several oUier articles of
intereivt connected with this subject may be found
in the " Phrenological Journal," the " Zoist," the
" Journal of Health," &c. We may be allowed to
say, however, that so far as these works attempt to
abnegate the existence of a mind differentiated
iVom brutish (apparent) intelligence, we do not
sympathize with tlicni. That" the earthly house
of our tabemucle" may be dissolved without neces-
sarily implying our total dissolution, wc most
iinnly believe, and though we must acknowledge
that the unition-bonds of soul and body are inti-
mately interwoven, we are irresistibly compelled
to believe in their complete, perfect, and entire
differentiation. We are convinced, however, that
an accurate knowledge of the structure, healUiy
action, diseased action, and the organic functions
of the mere anunal machine, would materially tend
to the clearing away of the mists which overshadow
metaphysical inquuries. Some of the arguments
for the existence of mind may be thus briefly
enumerated — 1st. Essentially distinct qualities
presuppose essentially distinct entities. 2nd. Were
mind and matter the same, mind must necessarily
be latent in matter until edticed to manifest it«elf
by being put in certain relations ; all matter must
therefore be permeated with mind,
" And the dull clod on which we tread
Be instinct with such soul as human kind."
3rd. The evidence of consciousness. 4th. Dreams
and other sleep-facts, e. g., the common occun-ence
of one engaged in excogitation, in the evening re-
tiring to rest unsuccessful, and waking with a full
mental view of the topic, making it probable that
the mind acts continually, although we only he-
come conscious of the motion of thouf^htin waking
hours or in diseased states of the bodily organ:*
occasioning dreams. 5th. Absence of mind. V>th.
The alternations of healthy and unhealthy action
of brain in the insane, producing the idea of the
derangement of rouid, while it \» really no more
an ar^iunent to thateffectthan difference of media
is evidence of variation in the real and actual
qualities of light. 7th. The mind reroaiuing clear,
calm, and self-possessed up to tlie very moment of
death, &c. We hope these observations may not
be considered out of place, as corrective of iht-
gene^a^ influence of some of the works aliovc
mentioned.— Thk Authob of "The Art of
Reaso.ving."
90. Chivalry, the Crusadea, and our Colonies.
— We are unable to refer J. C. H. to any History
specially devoted either to Chivalry or' the Cru-
sades. The best cyclopsedias fuminh a good deal
of information on both these 8ubj(>cts. In Git>>
bon's " Decline and Fall of Rome" there will
be found many allusions to Chivalry ; and in
Gtiizot's "History of Civilization in Europe "
will be found a va.st amount of valuable infomn-
tion on the Crusades, and the benefits resulting
therefrom. A work entitled, " Chronicles of ihc
Crusades," published by Bohu, London, gires u
great deal of interesting information as to tlu
Crusaders. Undoubtedly the best " History of
the British Colonies," b that now publishing \>y
Montgomery Martin; it is sold in eight division^i,
at 7s. Qd. each, is got up in elegant style, and
brings all its information down to the pre««.'nt
time. In Porter's " Progress of the Nation ' nriU
be found much interesting and usef^il informatiuu
regarding our colonies. — C. W., Jun.
98. The Italian Lanquage. — Veneroni's ** Ital
iau Master" and "Exercises" are excelleni
works, and such as we can confidently r^t-o^n
mend. But if our correspondent be well ec
quainted with grammar, and have the advautac'
of knowing French, we think he will find Ollt »i
dorfTs "N»w Method" better adiipied to gi>c i
tfu>rough practical knowledge of tlic lanjp.\Kc:
without the aid of a teacher. If the latter Vv^r
should be the one of his choice, we would ret^-r.:
mend him to limit himself to one or two lessor
a week, as the case may be, always taking oc
tliat the last be Uioroughly appreciated and r
inerabered before commencing the next. Soavr
"Novelle Morale "is a suitable readiug-boolc U
the student, and will agreeably relieve the m
notony of Ollendorff. As to the prononciatiit
in default of viva t^ce instruction, he unay r»-^
to a cheap work, called " Italian Without a. >I ;
ter," on the Robertsonian method.— S. M. F.
€lit '"^nm^ Ittthnt ant WtMs 5l35istnnl
LOGIC CLASS.
Exercise on the Art of Reasoning. — iVb. XVI.
1. Define a Hypothetical Syllogism, and pohit
out the difftfrence between a categorical and a
hypotlietical one, with examples.
2. Define and exemplify Direct and Indii
Hypothetical 8.
3. What are Disjunctive Syllogisms ? G i v<e
amples.
4. Define a Dilemrao. Gi%'e examples, ao:! a
THE YOUXQ STUDEIJT AND WRITEB S ASSISTANT.
239
U><e difference between a Direct and an Indirect
IftlenuBa.
5. What is an Enthymeme ? What ore the rale«
renrdiof EDChymcmes 7 Give examples.
6. ITbat b meant by the terms, Epichin^nia,
SoniM. and Prosy Uogism ? — and giTe examples.
7. D^ne " Analogy. ' What are the laws and
pnmudDS necessary to he observed in reasoning
byii?
S. DrSae Indoetion, and show the connexion
li*9tni Inductive and Syllogistic rensoning.
9. To which of the classes of Informal Syl-
hasaa do tUe following examples of Reasoning
i<kfljt,ri2.: —
*6oTerom«!nt ought to educate the people.
ietane by so doing she would incirease know-
kt^ rpmie imagination, impmre tast<>».culture
tte awnl &ralty, elerate the mind, and enable
naea to set their part in life in such a manner
c» to be at once respectable and useful to them-
»1t^ md adtantageoos to the public." — News-
* The eoontry of Greece presents a large, irre-
F^ pcBiDsala, intRrsecled by many chains of
isrsataias, sepsLratiug its different districts, and
c^M^iDg natural impediments to general inter-
tC'S^ne, ^snd therefore to ra)>id civilization." —
t^ti/Tt Elements of Generic BUiory, cap. vi
P»N2r^hlst.
" Tbe solemn conflicts of reason with passion ;
^ vietories of moral and religious principle over
(^nr^ot sod almost irresistible solicitations to
K-J-stdalgenoe ; the hart^st sacrifices of duty—
those of deep-seat^ affection and of the heart's
^"Bfifti hopes ; the consolations, hopes, joys, and
>*^ of disappointed, i)ersecuted, scorned, de-
igned Tiitae, these are of conrse unseen ; so tliat
^ tnie greatness of human life is almost wholly
''3tof si^t"— Cftanntn^ on Helf-Culture.
^ Men might be better if we better deemed
Wlhan. The worst way to improve the world
Is to condemn it. Men mny overget
litbtsicu; not despair." — Festus.
** If a state has fallen into the unfortunate
system of paper money, and this sinks in com.
parison with silver ; then should a junctiu-e of
favourable circumstances Aimi»h the means of
re-establishing a metallic currency, it is altogether
absurd, nay, purely disastrous, to make the metal
resume its place with its standard unehangedt
and the sums in all contracts abide by their nomi-
nal amount^ while it is impossible to keep up
prices at the height where they stood at tlie time
of the paper circulation." — Niebuhr's Soman
History, vol. i. p. 455, edition 1831, quoted in
" Letters on Monetary Science," by Aladdin.
"In general, fertile and luxuriant countries
seem peculiarly litted to be the nursery of refine-
ment: because leisure awakens curiosity, and
curiosity leads to pursuits that iill up the vacan-
cies in human life. Every new situation presents
to man new otpects of solicitude and care. The
demands of animal nature no longer bounds his
desires. The scene now opens to the intellectual
eye. He marks the relations and dependencies of
things, and learns to contemplate the world and
himself." — Dunba$''s Essays on the History of
Mankind f vi.
"If generals are not disrespected although
they are frequently vanquished, neither should
sophists be s»o." — Aristotle's Rhetoric ^ book ii.
cap. 23.
GRAMMAR CLASS.
Exercises in Grammar. — No. V.
1. Write out the following uoims, with their
femiuines, in a form like tlie one given, placing
each class of words in its proper column. Dea-
con, nephew, hero, host, lad, heir, king, conduc-
tor, dog, earl, duke, hart, adulterer, monk, horse,
lord, colt, peacock, beau, stag, wizard, bull,
seamster, marquis, protector, emperor, man-ser-
vant, votary, tutor, actor, executor, caterer, ad-
ministrator, arbiter, governor, director, patron,
chanter, margrave, rtmi, ambassador, mayor.
By £flferent terminations.
XsiCQ]in<
le.
Feminine.
^T die stldition of And contraction
I when necessary.
**J tae addition of
"ix."
And contraction
when necessary.
^.- «* ad<iiUon of
me."
And contraction
when necessary.
NOUNS.
Genoeb.
By difi*erent correlative
words.
Masculine. ' Feminine
By prefixing a word denoting
the gender.
Masculine. Feminine
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— IV.
^^^^ Arithmetie and Algebra.
N «!!^? ^' ''^ namerator and denominator
• oaetioQ may be multiplied by any number
without altering its value ; so, } may be multiplied
by the product of 3, 4, 5, 7, or 420 ; and | by tbe
product of 3, 4, 5, 7, or 290 ; and \ by the product
of 2, 3, 5, 7, or 210 ; and \ by the product of
2, 3,4, 7, or 168; and ^ by the product of 2,3,4,5,
240
THB TOUXO 8TI7DB2IT AITD WRITBB*S AaSOTAXT.
or 130; tbeikwt
the Answer,
. 4*0
which mvf be
2!0 140 105
S80 210 168 ml
"mo 840 840 840 1
Airther reduced if i
84 JO
4S0 4:W. I
ViLLAOBK. I
Question 14. The cootent of the first walls i
700x12x2=: 16800 cubic feet, and the labour re- |
quired to build its30x 164 x 12=59040 hours.
The content of the other wall=s900x8xli=
10800 cubic ftet. I
Then 16HO0 : 10600 :: 59040 : 37054'285 hours'
Iftbour required to build the second wall ; and a«
each roan engaged upon it works 70xl0ss700
honn. therefore 37054-285 -$-700 =54-22 s the men
required. W. H. B.
Question 15. Let x be the discount required ;
2-5,,.,^ , 5740-a?
then hj the question ap= — (5/40— x)= — — —
or41*=5740 .-. x=£140.
J.K.
QueationHi. x+,v=20(l). x«+y«=232 (2).
Squaring (1) we have x*+2 x y+y"=400.
Subtracting (2) from (!)• .'. 2 x y=l«8 (3).
Subtracting (3) from (i) we obtain x* — 2 x y +
y«364.
Extracting root,x-y= +8 (4).
By addition 8incex+y=20(l) .*. 2x=20 + 8=
28 or 12. .-. x=14or 6.
Subtracting (1) from (4). .*. y =0 or— 14.
DlDTMUS.
Otometry.
Qnention 7. Construct the equilateral triangle
ABC about the given circle, and through the
centre O of the circle draw C D perpendioular to
A B, and from O draw 0 £ perpendicular to
C A. Then let 2 x=side of a, and asradius of
circle.
— 2 « a: ^ „ - . ,
Then—:: — x33:3 a x=:area of tnangle.
And by Euc. 1. 47. 4x«=(50)«+r|^
-\«=2500
4
la
.-. x= ^m6 tf =95-^ a Base. \
And2x =51-64= Side. /
An$.
C. D. 8.
Question 9. Let r=radius ; then as a line drawn
at right angles fit>m the oentrs bisects the chord,
we have
(r_8)»+(246)>=.r«
r«-16 r+ 64 -h 60025 =r«
16r=60089
r= 37555625.
.'. Area=(3755*5625)« x 3 1416=1410429*69140635
X 3- 1416 =4430991 0-83 square links, or443 acr«».
0 r., 15-857 poles. C. D. S.
JtfecAamcs.
Question 7. We must firxt find solidity of tb«
excavation— viz., 17* x 7854 x 40 = 9079224 cubic
feet.
2nd. Weight of the material =9079-224x100=
907922-4 lb.
3rd. The mean height to which the whole must
40
beraised=-=20feet
.-. Total units of work = 907922-4 x fK) =
181&H448
or= 17« X -7854 X 40 X lOOx 20=18158418.
Questions. Here worii to be done=1815Ai48.
and work done daily =2600 x 60 x 8.
1815844H 16158448 ,,.,„ ^
•••^'°**=2ewx«uS^l.=nhS8uoo="*^ ^^=
14 days, 4 hours, 24 minutes. J . £. H.
and
2
2xCP
=x C D=area of triangle.
.•.3ax = xC D,orC D=3a.
But C E"=C 0«-E 0»
=(2«)«-a«=3o»
C E=a^3.
.'. C Aor AB=2a^ir
= 17 X I-7320506=29-4448636.
W. C. D.
Question 8. The iso.<ireles triangle touches the
two circles whose centres are 0 and P,in D and E.
The throe triangles A B C, A D 0, and A E P, are
similar, because they each contain a right angle,
and have the angle at A common. Hence,
AP:PE::AO:OD
AO:OD::AC:BC.
Now, if wo put y for the height, A B, of the
isosceles triangle, and x for its base, the first pro-
portion becomes
y— 26 :6:: v-10: 10
10y-260=6y-60
4 y=200. .*. y=50.
From the second proposition we obtain by sub-
stitution,
40:10
Side A C . "=-
• 2
SideACnSx.
QUESTIONS FOB SOLUTION.— VI.
Arithmetic and Algebra.
21. A gentleman gave some poor people \ of
the money which he had in his purse, and after-
wards called at a tradesman's and gmve him { oi
the remainder, receiving in change 4«. 6d. On
arriving at home he found that he had 15«. lelt
How much money had he when be left home?
Sti. A certain person bought a quantity of egg^
at 8 for 6d., and as many more at 10 for 6d.« ar.d
sold them all out at 9 for 6d., losing la. 3d. by tbf
transaction. It is required to find the nuntber oi
eggs.
2:3. Given x+y=18, x«-»-y* = 1674, to find I
andy.
Qeometry.
11. The proportion of land and 'water upon th*
surface of the earth is as 266 to 734 ; and th
earth's mean diameter 7926 utiles. Suppose in
the earth to be a perfect sphere, how many s.|uax
miles are there of each ? *
Mechanics.
10. A train of 100 tons descends an incline >
600 feet, the toul height of the plane is 9 f e^
What velocity per second will the train acquire
the friction be 8 lb. per ton ?
11. If the above were asceodinic the inrlil
what must the horse power of the engine be
convey it at the rate of 20 miles per hour T
jRjittnrir.
BT THE AUTBOS OF "tHE ART OF URASOWXqJ*
No. VII.— STYLE.
TRonGHT tnd speech are correlates. Ideas are the mind-wealth of hamanitj, and
words are the media through which they are circolated. " Unclothed, as yet, in words,
« stripped of them, thoughts are hat dreams; like the shifting clouds of the sky they float
in tlie mind one moment, and Tanish the next"* Human life, in its highest and noblest
^jno, is thought.
*' We lire in deeds, not yean ; in thoughts, not breaths ;
In feelings, not in figure* on a diaL
We aboald count time by heart-throbfl. He most lires
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the besL"
''To fire is not merely to touch, to taste, to smell, to see, to hear; it is to use all our
^^colties in the highest condition of development our opportunities permit. This, and not
^bother, is the natural life of man.** Who are they who have lived, who do live? Are
Umj Dot the thoughts-men of the world? " O'er the dark rereward and abyss of time"
Vt tbe nuud*s eye be cast, and who are they that stud the night-gloom of the past, and
^ recognised as the
"Lights of the world and demi-gods of fame"?
^ great tkinier$ of the race. How noble is their vocation who, in the light of con-
"cioiisBess, read the marvels of ** the inner life," and reveal them to men! How useful are
^ Sves who, gazing on ** the outer world of sense," where
"Siver, sea, isle, continent,
Moontain and wood and fire-lipped hill,
And lake and golden plain, and sun and heaven.
Where the stars brightly die, whose death is day;
City and port and palace, ships and tents,
Lie massed and mapped," —
^ftcAt to us '^ all the kingdoms of the earth and the glories thereof;" then directing our
I'&Qdsto other scenes, lead us, in thought, through the far-stretching infinities of space,
1«
" Yon strange world whose long nights know no star,
Bat seven fair maidlike moons attending him.
Perfect his sky; "
^OBd "Aretarus with his sons," within " the sweet influences of tbc pleiades," and onward
^Wi^ the immense vastitudes which the Almighty hand has sprinkled with suns and
*^"^^yrteni8, thus linking our being with worlds rising above worlds, and systems inter-
^^toik^ inth systems, while at the same time it is protended to the age-distant periods
^^Hir unswerving eircimivolvingsl How honour- worthy are those who, surveybg the
of dvil life, the international amenities, tbe laws of trade, commerce, and agri-
I's " Essay on Language," Works, vol. viii. p. 301.
842 RHETORIC. — SO. VII.
culture, the delicate invalutions of diplomacy, and the conditions of social well-being,
devote their life and genius to the exposition of the great truths which they have learnt,
and the ingrafting of these thought-growths in the minds of men ! How can we sufficiently
value those who, conscious of the mental infirmities of humanity, the duplicities of his
nature, his proneness to polluting deeds, his moral Tagrancy, his readiness to yield to the
suggestions of dishonourable and debasing passions, his want of sin-resistancy, yet endea*
vour to strengthen man*s moral nature, heal his mental diseases, pour " the balm of Gilead "
into his wounded spirit, " convince him of sin, righteousness, and a judgment to come,''
and act like Goldsmith's good clergyman, who
"Allured to brighter worldst and led the way "?
Thus it is that he, in whose soul thought is wedded to expression, becomes a poorer,
thus it is we reverence
** Men whose great thoughts potseae as like a paasioB
Tbroagh evrry limb and the whole heart; whoee words
Haunt oa as elites do fbe moontain air."
And why ought not each himian being to strive earnestly, unfamtingly, to acquire this
power and world-reverenoe? ** Man was not made to shut up his mind in himself, but to
give it voice, and enter into exchange with other minds. Our power of thought lies not
80 much in the amount of thought within us, as in the power of bringing it out A msin
of more than ordinary intellectual vigour may, for want of expression, be a cipher, without
significance, in society. And not only does a man influence others, but he greatly aids
his own intellect, by giving distinct and forcible utterance to his thoughts. We under-
tftand ourselves better, our conceptions grow clearer, by the very efibrt to make them donr
to another." * Did we rightly estimate the educative infiuenee we wieM, the immense
potency of our example, we should more truly perceive the mighty responsibilities whic h
lie upon him who cultures not his thought-eneigies. Are we not all commissioned to
become the apostles of wisdom and virtue, and do we shrink from preparing for our life-
task? If it be true that " the value of a thought cannot be told** — if it be true that
*' He irito made « with nieh lai^e diseoorsey
Looking before end after, gave va not
That capability and god>Uke Keason
To fast in us unused," —
it must be true that the culture of the power of thought-expression is a duty, it must be
true that the capacity of translating into words the results of the highest and nobl«et
exercises of our intellect, the deepest and most boundless desires of our souls, our greatest
hopes, our holiest aspirations, all that passes in the mysterious thought- realm within, not
in the enigmatical confusion and obscurity of unstudied words, but In the starlike beanty
and clearness of a precise and eloquent diction, in a style
" Fit to be used by aU who think whfie •peaking,''
ought to be regarded as one of the essential qualifications of eveiy human being. To t<
able, at any time, to couch our thoughts readily, in a judicious selection of fitting sintj
• Channlng's" Self-Culture."
RUKTOBICd — ^3fa VII. 243
btnuBiooi irords — to bring forth the products of our mteroal coD«cioiui ** clothed with
B{;Ut u with a garment," and to repeat and represent them einbeUlsiied with ideal lo\'e-
Unisi, is worthy of intense study. Accuracy in the use of words, orderliness in the
anugBneot of phrases, precision of style, elegance of manner, in one word, exprtisictneuy
is a power deserving of bebg sednloasly aimed at, and laboriously cultivated; ^'this
dodies a oompoeitioo in the most beautiful dress, makes it shine like a picture in all the
gaetr of colour, it animates our thoughts, and inspires them with a kind of vocal life." *
'Tlie greatest tmtha are wronged if not linked with beauty, and they win their way most
^7 sod deeply into the soul in this their natural and fit attire.'* f '*A word fitly
^tro is like apples of gold in pictures of silver." ** Perspicuous words,** says ilobbes,
"in the light of human minds." And Pascal, in his thoughts "Sur TEloqueuco et le
^le," acutely remarks that '* The very same sense is materially affected by the words
^ uc used to convey it."
Thu Bcoesaity for the study of expression seems the more necessary to be insisted on,
"«tKiBt it appears not to be sufficiently recognised by young men that Style is tbe result
^stodj. There is, of course, a vital connexion between language and thought; but
'iQltti we habituate our minds by arduous cultivation to acquire a right undcrstuuding of
^ praper use of words, to rc-call readily and to employ regularly the choicest and most
*^t phraaeohigy, it will be vain for us to expect that they will be within our reach on
^cnand. There will, therefore, result a sti£f constrainedncss, in ungunly awkwardness, a
'^ stsntnws and barren inappropriateness in our manner of conveying ideas from our
BWn nunds to those of others.
There is another error, equally to be guarded against, and which, in a great mea&ure,
^iies fipom the fidse notion of what true excellence in couiposition is, geueruUy vnter-
Uinel by those who have not attentively studied our vernacular speech.^ It is, that,
^ coscquenee of neglecting to prune their phmseolo^, to select their words ctiutiously,
te Wlance their diction with ease and nicety, to become accurately acquainted with
tbe owmotatioM and efenotations of the terms whidi they employ, they supposo real
^oeoee to consist in bringing together "a gorgeous paraphernalia" of vetbalisms,
f^lv bespangled with prettinesses and grandly sonorous to the ear; and by this false
tistc misoonceptioo they are led eagerly and sedulously to pursue such a method of com-
F«iag as must necessarily produce that fatal redundancy, that prodigal verbosity and
^nbcaaee of speech, that love of bctawdried omateness, and contorted efflorescence which
itUoB £u1a flf being efficadoos in exhausting the patience of the reader, or spreading on
^iattiliiniberoiuiieaa over the mind of the hearer. A roundabout-ness of exprnoion, a want
'^Bie, fiBeefb], precise, and energetic diction, a di£fuseness and o\'erstnuned inflation, or
^^QodwotdiiMUjCan be adequately remedied in no other way than by an earnest, incessant,
^ caitfa] picpantory study of word, and a constant endeavour to find the most nppro-
iQite costume for our most trivial thoughts. Thus alone can a large store of accurately-
' T«n<ani « On Um Sublime." mcL xxx. 4 Channing's " SeU-CuUiirc."
* ^ iMilitiss far spsekiug and wriUna wliidi oar mutual improvflment and debaiinx aocieties,
*<*ltaBn aad aalMtfiM aaaoeiations, aud our philumattaio iiistiuitiuiu, may be utnitioned •• pccii-
Mf fii^ lo airase ia this way, as they have no recognised standard of excellenee, uo criterion of
^'l^ a* OBifiR to wbflB iiOMtwns of a literary nature may be submitted.
S44 RRisTOBTa — wo. yn.
diaeriniinsted ToriMdisms be aoquired, and thus alone can the proper word be always
attainable by the writer or speaker.
Style is the fitting ezpreesion of thought ; the method in which any giren nund
oigamzeB, vitalises, and modifies its ideas in the endeavoor to bring them forth from
eoosdousness into the view of his fellow-men; '* a pietura of the ideas in the mind, and
of the order in which they exist there." It is a technical tenn significant of all those
peculiarities of expression by which different minds are distinguished when they strive to
paint their thoughts in the hues of language; the incarnation of thought and the essence
of the human soul issuing forth pervaded with truth, life, and lovelmess: — "Le Style
n'est que I'ordre et le mouvement qu'on met dans ses pensees. Si on lesenchaine
6troitement, si on les serre, le Style devient ferme, nervenx, et concis; si on les laisse se
snoc^der lentement, et ne se joindre qu*a la favour des mots, quelque 616gants qu'Ils
Boient, le Style sera diffus, Uche, et trainant.*** Language being the spontaneous out-
growtii of the human mind, the connexion between thought and thought-expression is vital
and organic. Not custom merely, not association, powerful influences as they are, could
nurture speech were its root not already imbedded in the mind capable of blossoming and
presenting its fruitage, when circumstances capable of occasioning its growth-powers to
exert themselves had occurred. A genuine style partakes of this same spontaneity. It
is at once an embodim^it of the specific subject of discourse, and the specific qnalittcs
of the intellect of the indiviflual. It is in this latter sense that the truth of the ass<*rtion
of Buffon, " Le Style est l*homme memo " — Style is the man himself — is defensible.
If our opinion regarding the spontaneity of Language and of Style be correct, it will
follow that our method of treating this subject must differ widely from that usually pur>
sued by writers on Rhetoric. We cannot counsel imitative studies. We cannot recommend
any one of our readers to " give his days and nights to the study of Addison," or any one
else. If one would study terseness, force, expressiveness — if he would avoid mannerism,
formality, strut, and swagger— if he would avoid unnatural distention, inflation, or atten*
uated feebleness, as well as an equally unnatural spasmodic trenchantness, abruptness, or
apothematicality of expression, let him not attempt to qualify his thoughts for occupyin;:
any Procrustes* bed. No imitation of Style, no compound of even the best qualities cl
Style culled from the best authors, will suit gracefully with your thoughts unless it U
homologous with your manner of thinking. Imagine to yourselves the keen, racy, idiomatic^
indigenous Style of Swift, translated into the sonorous, magniloquent daasicality of Dn
Johnson; imagine the massy-thoughted bullion of thought contained in Foster's ** Essay s,'!
beaten out into the thin wire and glittering gewgaws, more fit to ornament the bonier o|
a cambric handkerchief than to embody great thoughts, employed by the Bev. Ilobei^
Montgomery, and you will perhaps gain an idea of the folly of assuming any other Stjl
than that which is natural to your own mind, when supplied with the requisite knowledi:]
of the meaning of words.f
* " Style is only the order and motion which we jB[ive to our thoughts. If we Huk them clos<*ly .
we compress them, the s^Ie becomes firm, nervous, and eoneise; if we allow them to follow ^^^
other negligently, and only eotineet them by the help of words, however elegant they may Ur-. i1
«»v)e win be difnise, slipshod, and iumpid:'-^BvJlm'$ DiBCoun de SecipHon « rAr€^^,fi
FrancaiM, jmge 6.
t"*Consider; says our Lord, • ihe lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and 3
RHBTOBio— sro. VII. S45
That which ii nature in one man cannot be raccessfally conntofeited by another.
There is a varietj in the waje which the mind takes of commnnicating ideas which snch
ooprist doctrines totally ignores, and hence the signature of one*8 own mind u continually
OTenciawled by the name of the party imitated. Each person's Stjle, if it is desired
to be free from jejune, smooth, characterless insipidity, mere eflfeminate mediocrity, or
qoeMiooable and eccentric rant, must give full scope to the individualities of his intellect,
in all its randies of culture and mood, fancy and feeling; deep thought and stateliness of
mind, calmness and gravity, cool reflection and artless sincerity, may cither, or all, be
dereioped in style, provided it is an untbeatrical exhibition of the mind. All, however,
mut be regulated by good taste, and combined with a capability of giving the due amount
of executive skill to the accurate manifestation of thought. The fullest and freest play
mnat be given to the mind energies within these limits, while all must bo full of fresh,
vigorous, individoal thought. ** Bien 6crire, c*est tout a la fois bleu penser, bien sentir, ct
blenradre ; c'est avcur en mdme temps de Tesprit, dc Tame, ct du ;:;oQt.'** Petronius beautifully
obwres. — ^"Grandis et ntitadicam pudica oratio naturali pulchritudino ezurgit" — "The
Sitat aod, if I may so speak, the chaste oration, rises up in its own natural beauty."
Fnm the observations which have just been made, if they have sufHciently fulfilled the
^'gn of the writer, it will have become evident that, in his opinion, the cultivation of
tbe intellectual powers, the imagination, and the sentiments, is of far greater importance
^ the elaboration, even if it were possible, of the most fascinating method of expression,
l^ngnsge and Style are educts of the mind, and follow in their development the natural
*3d eoDstitutional bias or bent of that from which they originate. If, then, the mind bo
^f^rt, if it be endowed with a tendency to give forth new, vigorous, healthy, genial
^^onght^ it will not fritter time and study on the task of re-casting its ideas as they form
^^oaelves in all the beauty of nature, into another and more artificial mould, or if it does,
it most be contented to appear like those old-fashioned gardens, in which the trees and
^^ were cUpped and cut into the most formal and fantastic shapes, where nature was
^Bterted, contorted, trimmed and pruned, in order that it might be taught to obey those
^ of beanty, which a frigid, unenthusiastic, narrow-minded artificiality had introduced.
^^>tnre is always lovely, and a natural style is no exception to tliis general rule. But
■vb t style can only be the result of the free and unconstrained utterance of thought as
^ viMib As Style is the consequent of mental cultivation, it follows that the general
iaiperenient of the intellect is the surest and safest method of attaining a sincere, healthy,
pBc, and natural Style.
1 >V OBlo yon, that Solomon in all his f^Iory was not arrayed like one of these. If then God
^^^ocIh the grass, whkh is to-day in the field, and to-ruorrow is cast into the oven ; how much more
*hW cloche you ?' Let na here adopt a little of the tasteless manner of modem naraphrasts, by
"WWtilntion of more genenU terms, one of their general expedients of inftigidating, and let us
*B>ii» the dfecK iRt>dticed by this change— < Consider the flowers, Low they gradually increase in
, and UuH/eS'^BHfOHt Ditetmn, i^fc.
244) CA3r ORRTSTIAKS, C03C8IsnDfTLT Wtnt THEIR PROTCIFLES,
At the bttii of Style lie the grMnmatical propmties which maj on bo leooont be
TioUted. The linuls which the Gnmrnnrtsn assigna the Rhetorician mturt occopy.
The laws of Laognage, which are, in fact, the lawa of mind, so far forth as they are oon-
ceraed in thonght-ntterance, moat be -strictly obeyed; auch inrersioBa and inToIntsooa as
they allow are adminible, bnt no othera. From these laws there is, there can be, no
appeal Bnt beyond and above these laws the Rhetorician haa free scope. The architraTe,
the piHar, the entablature, the dome, may fitly be added to the more necessaiy portions of
the bnilding; bnt no decorations are permsriUe except such as are consonant with use,
flymmetry, and taste.
Words are the media of thonght-representataon ; they are thonght-signs, the spnbols of
the riches of the spirit. With words, therefore, the Bhetoricisn labours as instruments;
they are the means by which he e£fect8 his purposes. Whether mere exposition is
demanded, persnaaon is necessary, conrietion or exhortation Is to be employed, words are
the instmmental agents by which these ends are to be attained. The Rhetorician must
therefore recognise the power of words, must know with hair-breadth accuracy the sig-
nification of term^ whether singly or combined; for thus alone Cfn his design be effectually
accomplished, and the correlation of his words with his thoughts be accurately meted.
The whole doctrine of our present article may be concisely comprised in the words of the
author of " The Book of Thoughts " : —
" To tbink rigbtlj is of knowledge; to speak fluently Is of nfttnre ;
To read with profit is of care ; but to write aptly is of praedeo."
EtligtiiK.
CAN CHRISTIANS, CONSISTENTLY WITH THEIB PRINCIPLBS, RENDER
SUPPORT TO THE BRITISH STAGE ?
AyriRMATIVE ARTICW.— IV.
Wouu> W. T. be astonished and delighted
by our aoqniescence in three of his rsflec-
tions? We ailmit our fallibility — acknow-
ledge the advantage of studying St Peter —
and allow the Author of Christianity to be
thrust upon our charity. Had our weak
sympathiea melted, how cooM we hare dis-
regsurded the awfblly funny wanung oi
the moral and short-sighted philosopher?
Dr. Johnson, Aristidcs, and *'80ine faint
a better judge of christian consistency than , notions of christian truth,** terrify ns InU
ourselves. Bnt we relent no further, though < propriety.
we should stretch the fall tether of contro- i Since we relinquish the defence of so un-
tenable a post, the enemy kindly cbaUengc:
rersial politeness.
There is not likely to be a cordial agree-
ment between people who misappvehend each
other. ^'He was a very great nwnl added
my uncle Toby (meaning Stcvinus). He
was so, brother Toby, said my father (mean-
ing Piereskinsy* While we have recom-
inended the elevated sentiments of a virtuous
dramatic stage, the licence of the extrava-
ganza and short-petticoated ballet has been
a contest for the " gewgaws " of tho stA^i
We invite him to the old Globe Tli«ftire bj
the Bear Garden of Soothwafk. The walj
are as bare as a conventicle^ tba ecencr
borrowed from the barn of Thae^U. He ^eri
presume upon a bold riietorio if he appl
the term •* gewgaws'* to the 8weetly-<?i
forced moralities of Shakspeare.
if W. T. haa Paley'a ** Uons PaoUnae ** 1
BBXDBB SUPPORT TO THE BRITIAH BTAOB ?
S47
ftr to the first section of
iter. He will there find
Paul not onlj read bat '
•then pt^ts. Above all,
B has inserted into the
imbic of Menander's: —
JUS comi pt good manners.**
>tc one hundred and eight
iccQsed of suicide! Un-
hj didst thoQ neglect the
Dr. Watts?
here'er 'tit foiud,
euds. amoitg-it vour foes,
heathen ground :
Ine where'er it grow*."
orershoots its aim; our
\ have proved too much, i
Mitions arc to be indis- '
ined because gross-man- '
licentious modems huvc
mew would be acceptable {
t ahio have foul-mouthed I
ccd the pulpit br horrible
ej knew would be palate-
men arc not to be taxed
:heir scapi'gracc brothers, >
e neij^hbour chooses to
u that there is taint in
Such a neighbour, how- ;
ever, ought first to consult hi4 own genealogy.
The stage is blamed for unravelling villainy;
let us, then, close the ptav, and trace the
intricate depths of human wickedness in the <
narratives of the Bible. "^
We have no space to vindicate the British
stage by an allusion to the writings them-
Hulvcs of her noble moralists; nor would we
presume thus to usurp the position of C. W.
We desire onlv to reiterate oar former argu-
ments unqualUied I v. These arguments do not
find favour because they are based upon a
liberal conception of christian obligations.
We look upon constancy as one of the high-
est virtues, and cannot join in the vulgar
rant a«2:aia8t honest puritauism. However,
we desire to be constant to a more genial
Christianity. We are sufiicicntly morose to
consider ourselves '*str:mgers and pilgrims
upon earth;** but strangers bless the hos-
pitality which supports their strength, and
pilgrims may be made agreeable by the inno-
cent solace of the road. God, who formed
us for immortal destinies, has also tempered
our souls with human sympathies, that we
may exercise them worthily in the drama of
life. Surely our affections were not given
for the sole purpose of betraying us to
death. H. T.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
ions legitimate means of
id in rrli«non and virtue,
letter adapted to \\ih end
these various means the
professes to be one. How
' claim to tliis prerojrative
see. C. W., Jun., in the
tide upon this question,
lesttons for consideration,
t is the puq>o^e of the
lly, ** What are the prin-
nitv ? " But it is not
3 reply to theite questions J
ring shoi^'u the ojijects of |
vinciples of Chri:*tiamty, '
far they are compatible
The answers to these '
dy half the truth. There'
s to be first asked and
the whole truth can be
^ as it were a sequel to
inswera to which we may
der of the truth to lA-
developed ; viz. : — 3rdly, " Does the stage
fulfil its vaunted mission ?" And 4th]y
" Does it or does it not run counter to the
principles of Christianity ? " It will be our
chief aim to furui.th replies to these two
latter questions. But n^ the answer to one
involves the answer to the other, and it is
difficult to reply separately to each without
nmch rej)etition, we shall consider them
to;rether.
In the first place, we contend that the
drama is too powerful in its effect for the
object iiitendi-d. It nddrespci itself too much
to the iniacrination and affections. It does
ni>t sufficiently appeal to the reason and
understanding, hike intoxicating liquors,
when taken in exce.ss, it infiames the mind,
excites the feelinjrs, aron!«es the propensities,
anil agitates the whole frame. Do you deny
that such is tiie cas^, that such is the effect
of witnes.sing the drama ? Then we will
snpi>ose you to enter for the first time one of
the principal London theatres, andtAlahA
S4S
CAN CBB18TIA2I8, OONniTBIITLT WITH THBIB FBIVCirLBS,
yoor BMt in the pit. Upon your entnnce
yon are dastled by the glare of light re-
flected from a thonsand lamps and sparkUng
chandeliers. Ton gaze aronnd; on all sides
of yon is a sea of hnman beads. Abore
yon perceive tier npon tier of boxes and
galleries, faced and decorated with rich
crimson and glittering gold. First, is the
dress circle, filled with all the ^Ute of beanty
and fashion; fair yonng girls, blooming in
lace and mnslin; richly dressed dames,
adorned with jewellery and trinkets; gentle-
men in spruce attire, and bright military
nniforms. Above is another tier of boxes,
with gaily attired occnpants. Above these
again rise the npper boxes and gallery,
with their qnota of hnman beings. Yon
tnm towards the stage. In front of yon is
the orchestra, with its row of musicians
pouring forth the most sptrit-stirriug or
soul-subduing strains. Immediately beyond
it lies the stage, with its drop curtains and
scenic decorations. In all this glare and
glitter, and with the ravishing tones of the
music, are you not dazzled and bewildered ?
Yon must own that you are. It is the
experience of every one who visits the
theatre for the first time. And although
much of this amazement wears ofi" by fre-
quent attendance, yet we think the most
constant visitor is not wholly proof against
their eflfects. Is such a scene as this cal-
culated to suitably prepare the mind for the
reception of moral and religious lessons ?
Presently the tinkling of a bell is heard, the
music ceases, the curtain rises, and the
stage, with its painted scenes, and the actors
in their quaint and ornate costumes, with
their fascinating looks, pleasing tones, and
graceful movements, are presented to your
wondering, admiring gaze. The performance
commences, but how much of the moral is
attended to? At first the mind is so
unhinged and the attention so divided with
all around, that but little more tban the
motions of the actors is noticed; and the
words uttered are scarcely heard, much less
understood. By degrees the attention be-
comes more fixed upon the performance,
till the whole soul is absorbed in the
piece. The imagination and the feelings
reign predominant, reason is led a feeble,
willing, unresisting captive, to the charms
of the scene. You laugh, or weep, or shud-
der, in quick succession, as your fancy is
touched and your feelings are wrooght npoo ;
and that, with as much or greater force than
if you were witnessing the reality of the
scenes represented. It is the reality to 70a
for tbe time being: yon cannot, or care not^
to undeceive your vanquished reason, and
despoil your soul of the charms to which
you have resigned it. Is such a state of
mind, thus uncontrolled by reason, fit for
the impression of moral and religions truths?
Do you think it is capable df that discri-
mination necessary to distinguish between
the representation of real and specious vir-
tue ? Season, sober-minded, impartial,
critical reason, being overthrown and stified,
the heart is easily deceived with specious
views of religion and virtue; and the imagi-
nation regards everything through an extra-
vagant medium. Theatres, then, if we wish
our reason to maintain its sovereignty, and
exercise its delegated function, we must
forego, and all those places where, and all
those things by which it is likely to be tram-
pled upon and debauched. Do not mbtake
our meaning. We condemn not the proper
exercise of the imagination and afiectioos;
when rightly attempered and attuned, they
are the loveliest and most sublime faculties
of the soul; but when subjected to no
control, when snfiered to run riot and un-
restrained, they are tbe most fascinating, it is
true, but the most dangerous faculties of the
souL " Eloquence," says Hume, ** when at
its highest pitch, leaves little room for
reason or reflection, but addresses itself
entirely to the fancy or the affections, cap-
tivates the willing bearers and subdnes their
understanding." This may equally be saii
of dramatic performances. But he adds,
** Happily this pitch it seldom attains." We
wish we could also make this sentence ap-
plicable to the drama. If the foregoinj;
observations are correct, the British stage
is neither calculated to fulfil the object of
its institution, nor is in accordance with tb«k
principles of Christianity. It may be nrpe<l
that the brilliancy of the lights, the beauty
of the decorations, the music, tbe quaint
costumes of the actors, ftc, are not abso-
lutely essential to dramatic representation.
But do away with all this show, all these
accessories, uid how much of the attractive-
ness of the stage would there be gone !
Who would then cars to visit the t)Matr«.
to see a plain, nngamished, unsophisticated
om sorFOwr to tub bsribh itaob ?
U9
F°6aiaaee ? We Totnn to saj but yeiy
fev. Bnt be this as it maj, all these daz-
ifiag seoHwrics exercise nudoabtedly great
■ttzadiai, sod teod to allare the seoses and
jv^m the fflind for the ddusive scenes of
tilt stage. As long as thej hare this effect,
» % will they be deemed indispensable
*wrap«riments to theatrical perfonnances.
f« Mnrives, we cannot oonceire the time
^^ the stage will appeal more to the
^^>>B sad imdentanding than at present.
^^ it does, it will in that degree lose its
'^^^oatj end popnlaii^, and being insnf-
^cioitlf npportad hj the public, will, in
(saeqacoee^ tenninate its existence. Bat
^ it ^peala so intemperatelj to the
"Hgimtion and the affections, so long will
it be aa sUoring snare to yonng and old,
lieii and poor. It was not St Paul's wont
topeisstmction beyond the ability of his
wfi to reeeiTe it beneficially. In ad-
^'^"BBg bis Corinthian conrerts he writes,
' I IttTe fed yon with milk, and not with
^: fer hitherto ye were not able to bear
^ Bather yet now are ye able. For ye are
Tetcina],"lCor.uL2,3. If, then, the stage
<&rs iostmctioa too strong for mental
^^fisdoo, it not only misses its professed
'^ k«t at the same time riolatea, or at
least coofiimie not to the principles of Chris-
^ittity, sad we bsTO therefore a sofficient
'I'Ko therein for withholding from it oar
•■PPwt.
^^ais, the dramatic art is a delosiTe art.
^ ^leMker the delosion, the more effective,
'^ moR captiyating and perfect it is. Its
j^y oisteiiee depoids upon its power to
Uaie, and to impress one with the idea that
^^ it witnessed is actoality itself. May
^ Bst be reasonably questioned whether a
^*^^Atni art be a proper or a probable
Qesa of **^Mng truth ? -^ of teaching
^>>^btM, openness, uprightness; abhor-
'^^ flf felwhood, deceit, equirocation ? Is
'^ aot prsbable that the frequenter of the
'''^^ftre iascQsibly aoqures a halat and an
*f<iMe to decMTO ? Surely the constant
^^^flttioD paid to the avowed practice and
^ pnCnaon of an imitative delusory art,
^*'OA iaii to exerctee a morally baneful
^i>^«CDee in the directioa mentioned*
Oace noR^ admitthig for a moment that
^ pieota represented are designed for the
pv^ of indacing man to choose the good
»d svsid the era, by exhibiting the love-
liness of virtue and the deformity of vice, do
they effect this object ? We fear not. The
nature of man is so depraved (scripture has
declared, '^that eveiy imagination of the
thoughts of his heart are only evil con-
tinually**), that the evil passions depicted,
and especially those indicative of appetency
and carnal desire, are far more likely to take
hold upon him when his reason is subdued*
and the imagination and affections hold
triumphant sway, than are the calm and
sober virtues. Tlie passions and evil incli-
nations of our nature are easily — ^alas! how
easily — aroused from torpor, and called into
unruly activity; and when aroused, how
averse are they to restraint or subjection t
Man, then, should be careful how he enter»
upon scenes where they are likely to be
awakened. ** Pray that ye enter not into>
temptation,** was our Saviour's injunction to
his disciples ; those who support the stage
would do well to meditate upon these words.
Further, as vice is of quick growth, and
difficult of eradication, so virtue, on the
contrary, is tardy, and can only be gradually
cultured. The violent ad aq}iaMhtin teach-
ing of the stage is not, therefore, suited to
the development of virtue. It cannot be
poured into the heart as through open slnico
gates. The evil passions are not to be sub-
jugated and ousted by any startling or
sudden assault. It is true they may be
temporarily checked thereby, but they will
quickly recover their wonted power and
dominion; and assail and take possession of
you, in return, with bifold fierceness and
security. The theatre, then, is not the
school for teaching and training the heart in
sentiments and deeds of virtue.
If the stage be not fitted to teach virtue
and morality, it is stUl less fitted to teach
religion. The appeals so frequently made
to God's mercy, justice, truth, and his other
attributes, in simulation, and for a commen-
titions object, is surely a mockery, a taking
of his name in vain. Let those who see ne
harm in these feigned appeals, bring — aa
J. £. P. has recommended — this command-
ment to their remembrance, ^ Thou shalt not
take the name of the Lord thy God in vain ;
for the Lord will not hold' him guiltless, that
taketh his name in vain.**
But people do not frequent theatres for
the sake of moral and rellgioua instructum.
Their sole object is pleasure and amnse^
150
CAN CHldafRAIlS RBHOm SVPrOflff TO THB BRinSfl STAGE P
ment. Sach beiog the cate, thej «re nol
likely to derive benefit by the iastrtietion of
tbe drama, snppoetDg it aflbtda any. That no
virtneiiB imprwriona are made, I think is
sofficiently evident from the uproar and
knghing that immediately eneoes npoo the
ihUUig of the cnitain and the dosing of the
theatre. Judge alio by your own ezpe-
lience. But if pleaanre be the only object of
Ihe playgoer, he had better sedc it in the
foiet and comfort of hia own home, by his
own fire^aide.
" Needs he the tngic tax, the tmoke of lamp*,
The pent-up brvath of an onuvoury throng
To thaw hin into ItMling; or the soMit
And anappiah dialogue, thatfliupanl wits
Gall comedy, to prompt him with a amile ?
The self-complacent actor, when he views
(Stealing a sidetoog glance at a full house)
The slope of fiuiet tnm the floor to th' roof
(As if one master spring controU'd them all)
Belaz'd Into an universal grin,
Sees not a oottalenance there iJiat speaks of joy
Hal/ soieAiisdyOraoainoefeasottn."
TJu Ta§k,
We have hitherto been speaking of the
nnsuitability of the stage as a school for
morality and religion, ana of the evil efleets
of dramatic representations upon the people
generally. But there is one class of people
upon whom they have perhaps a still
worse eftot, and jtwdiies us in specially
noticing them ; I mean the actors tiiem-
selves. They are acting, it may be, with a
view to instruct, but at the same time with
a view to allure and deceive. The greater
their powen of imitation and simulation, the
greater the delusion, and the greater their
awn success. It is true they may led and
appreciate much of the sentiment, and enter
deeply into the spirit of the piece enacted
(for it is essential to good acting that they
do), but, nevertheless, dare any one assert
that their whole souls are wrapt in the
words and sentiments to which they give
gesticulated and impassioned utterance ?
If they do not, think of the lessons they are
teaming in the art to deceive and beguile.
And having the power, and knowing they
possess the power, to feign and simulate
feelings fiu- from their hearts and intentions,
think you occasions will never occur when
they will be tempts to put in practice their
deceptions art to their own hurt and the
hurt of others? Deceit, hoitTver, is con-
trary to the principles of the christian
religion ; to countenance it, or to encourage
others, by any means, in the cidtivatioB of
the art of deceiving, must therefore be like*
wise contraiy to christian prindples.
But, doubtless, much of what they so
itaipassionately dedaim upon the stage is
deeply felt. At one tune they are the words
of ardent love and vehement desire ; at
another time, of crud* hatred and savage
revenge; now of pUyfd banter, and now
again of withering scorti ; at one moment a
curse is invoked, at another moment, God
is blasphemed. Can these sentimMits and
words be uttered, even without thought or
fteling, with impunity f Who will say ther
can ? But when uttered in the fervour of
enthosiasm, how much greater, then, must
be the evil I Shall that tongue, tav^t to
curse and blaspheme so volubly and pas-
sionately upon the stage, never break oqI
into curring and blaspheming when off it ?
We fear that the sentiments and the wordj
they are accustomed so energetically t<
declaim upon the stage, do only too surelj
and natuially find vent, upon sufildent pro
vocation, when off the stage. But not alon
do the actors learn to sin in words an*
thoughts. In love scenes, for inatauce, tb
passionate outpouring of sentiments of lov
and love*s desires, is not alone the dreadf«
lure. The position and aotibiui of the t^
lovers, the music, the tasteful costumes, &(
all work their baneful spell. Aad^we fea
alas I unhallowed desires and their grat
fication too frequently result froin the
mimic words and actions; and this mi
account fbr the generally admitted fact,
the loose morals of so many of those w;
ftdlow the stage as a profession. Can Chri
tians, consistently with their principl
sanction and encourage, by their preser
and support, scenes whidh le#d to su
deploraMe results f What says 8t« Paul,
the Epistle to the Romans, xir. 13 ?
writes, **Let us not therefore judge <
another any more: bat judge this rati
that no man put a stumbliagbloek or
oecasiott to fell in his brotlier*B way.** J
again, in the 21st verse of the aanae chap
" It is good neither to eat fiesh, nor to di
wine, nor anj^hingy whereby thy brot
stumbleth, or is offended, or is made wes
The support afforded to the stage, ^v
by this test, will, I think, be fband t<
counter to the principleB cf Chriatianitv
' AjOBtirao
18 WDJIAS SOraVALLT MMttSOBTO MAH?
251
^jtilASi^.
IS WOMAN MENTALI.T INFERIOB TO MAN ?
NSOJTZrB ABnGLE.*-!!.
The monl and iutettectiud daFeNDce b»-
Na tlM aescs is no Un tlwt the jhjuetd.
h tbe phyueal fisme natnm hu asaigiitd to
tU Ban fltrengti^ aetivifeji aaad Tif^r ; to
&i WHOf beMty, ddicMj, and grace. Tbe
foimw af the «ii* are beat cakoUiled to
iasjan adfflitmtkm and respect ; those of the
^, affiactifln and i!ow. The one is adapted
ks laager and. toil; the other, for the duties
of ^Bnmtie life.
Kor in the isental otganization is the
^^isflo less broad and distinct. Active
<^mge, sagacity, and fimmeas, are not more
^ ftoptrtj of the man^ than passive en-
^szaace, tact, and persnasion, are of the
*^QHa. Though the former maj be better
^lUijfiad to ah'me in the camp, the senate,
or ti» exchange; the latter, in training
^^^^n gcscratiana, in creating and snpport-
^ the anHmities and courtesies of social
^T 30d in saftening down and refining the
&sr» nirged and atemer portions of man's
Bt3!«, has a field of action as wide, and in
'7 qnuon as important, and requiring an
e^ amoont of ability to eacel. This is, in
^s the whok qoestion — ^Is the sphere of
^mm as important as that of manr Few,
I ttiak, win denj her fitness for her duties;
^ rdathe ralae is, then, what we have to
^'^^nler. This seems to me a fairer wajr of
'^g tbe matter than to attempt to prove,
^ scattered instances, her equality to man
ifi lis 0111 sphere, m which, neither by con-
>^Bt»n or incUnationy she is qualified to
^^^; and to expect her to do so is ss absurd
li tn repairs of the deer the strength of the
^ w of the ox the agility of the deer. A
^v&aa who thmsta herself into and usurps
^s pontioD, is as Ikr firom being an oma-
P^ to tbeiemale sex, as a fop or a coward
ttt» tbe male. A Semiramis is as odious as
t Sndaoapahia.
^t to proceed. The mental impcovement
% Gukmd has need of two ageocies-— energy
^ fBDove the obstacles which prejudice or
^T^Wism nsay have placed, in its path ;
'<naace axtd pdish, to soften tiie fierce pas-
sions evoked in their removal. The edict of
an antoerat may compel men to appear
civilized ; H is net tiU the infiuence of woman
begins to be fieH that they will become so
in reality. To what other cause but the
influence of woman can we attribute tiie
gradual progress of civilization among the
Gothic barbarians who overran the western
division of the Boman empire ? While, to
the lack of that influence we may, with equal
propriety, assign tbe stationary and retro-
grade state of the tiibea who conquered the
east. The importance of her humanizing
agency may be estimated when we consider
what is the proper meaning of civilization.
It does not consist in the mere acquisition of
knowledge, or the progress of the arts and
sciences; these are only the means and in-
struments of it: their final object is the
regulation of the pasnons, the subjection cf
the corporeal to the spiritual, the removal ai
those prejudices and difiVrences which are
so hostile to our comfort. What a mighty
effect in promoting these ends must a sex
have, possessing such a natural refinement of
taste, so susceptible of pity, so inclined to
peace, so little prone to the darker passions,
and so easily inftnenced by the tender ones I
How often, too, do we find that in tbe hour
of difficulty and trial, when active courage is
of no avail, and man*8 energies seem unnerved
and his spirit broken, that female endurance,
female fortitude, meek, uncomplaining, yet
assiduous perseverance, have consoled the
afflicted, imparted hope to them that were
ready to perish, and frequently conquered
calamities which seemed to the sterner sex
insuperable 1 Where man's work ends,
woman's begins. The temple of civilization
has its stately and lofty columns, its broad
and massive arches; but how shapeless and
forbidding would these be unless there were
superadded tbe elaborate carving, the glowing
canvas, and the life-like statue. The lost
may not be actually so needful as tbe former,
but their production requires mental power
as great, though of a different nature. I
253
IB WOXAN HSMTAIXT HCFERIOR TO MAK ?
would not claim, with some, for women the
dntifls and the privilegeB of active and bosy
life. In these she is decidedly inferior to
man, and by undertaking them she deservedly
forfeits the respect and afiection due to her
sex. Such characters as Elizabeth of England,
and Catharine of Rnssia, while they retained
the foibles and weaknesses of their sex, lost
its attractions, seem to have been exceeded
in mental enei^^j by the statesmen aroond
them, and only to appear great by comparison
with the rest of women. To female vanity
and jealoQsy they joined the nnscmpolons
ambUion of a Cesar and the relentless
cruelty of a Tamerlane, withoat imitating
the clemency of the one or the jostice of the
other. Woman's mental powers are ooly
great when employed in the proper direction;
so long as she so employs them, she is not
only equal to man, but exercises an incalca-
lable influence over him. She then holds a
secret, but not the less a powerful, empin?,
and man willingly submits to it Society,
the legislature, literature, the arts, are ruled
by women perhaps more than by men; but it
is by their exercising the persuasive powers
in which they excel, and not the commanding,
in which they are deficient S. A. J.
AFFIBMATIYE ABTICLE.-II.
SuPBBiORiTT and inferiority are relative
terms which may be well applied to the
different orders and classes of creation; but
when, as proposed by the question before us,
the most important being in creation is
selected as the object of inquiry, that being
agun severed into sexes, and the mental
powers of each sex set in juxtaposition to
the other, the matter assumes a very differ-
ent and not less delicate feature. It also
involves the necessity of close investigation
into the nature and character of each sex
individually as well unitedly as a species.
Great care is also required in order that due
honour may be given to each sex, without
infringing upon or detractbg from the one
for the sake of the other. The subject is a
lai^e one, and we shall at present, therefore,
confine ourselves to general views.
It is an important truism that in creation
every order and class has its peculiar sphere
and ofBce; and also that there is to be found
in each member of a class its peculiarity or
mark of identity, in contradistinction to all
others. It may, therefore, be fairly argued,
that in the wisdom of the great Creator,
each specific being was created for an end
peculiar to itself. Every animate creature
may, therefore, be presumed to possess wis-
dom or instinct peculiar to that end; and
this may, in a certain sense, be considered
to constitute superiority, whether compared
with its own species or the creation gene-
rally.
Although this statement may appear to
be somewhat beyond the limits of the ques-
tion before us, it may be found useful as a
general argument, and assist us in consider-
ing the real point at issue in directing oar
attention to the relative position of those
most noble of all God's creatures — man, and
his helpmate, woman. It cannot be disputed
that, so far as headship is concerned, man
stands first and foremost That man was
created before woman, we learn from holy
writ; and also the fact, that the whole
creation was placed under his hand, and
creatures called by such names as he selected,
before woman appeared upon the globe.
When she did appear, it was not to take
from man the office previously assigned to
him, nor indeed do we even learn that she
was commissioned to interfere therein —
at all events, not in contravention of man;
but the duty assigned to her was that of a
helpmate, to act under the direction of and
assist man in his work. We also learn from
the same source, that the moment she iras
tempted to assume a position of indepen-
dence, and relied upon her own wisdom and
ability to confront the serpent, she fell, and
thereby entailed misery upon her whole
posterity. Indeed woman, even by the ex-
traordinary means of her creation, is entirely
precluded from assuming a position of supe-
riority over, or independence of, man, for
she was actually taken from him, and most
be considered a part of himself, and there-
fore inferior to him.
The office, however, assigned to woman
was a peculiar one, and she waa endowed
with wisdom peculiarly adapted thereto, and
may fairly be presumed to possess ability and
tact in matters within her sphere superior
to man.
The mental superiority or Loferiority of
OUGHT xomr to br nrntnrsic or stmboltcal ?
253
tttn or irooiaii cannot be aacertuned from a
^artkl or ooe-nded Tiev, nor arrived at bj
the conaderatioQ of any particular capacity
or iieahire, nor indeed bj the selection of
Qun indindnaU, bnt each must be viewed
in du and as component parts of society.
TIhr is also a dbtinction between wisdom
ftBd knowledge which mnst not be overlooked.
Some vooKn may possess capacity for learn-
ing and acquiring knowledge, far superior to
ituBj men, and had they the same advan-
tasH, might even surpass the opposite sex
hi Duy branches of literature. PoeticHlly,
'**(nua is often found to excel; in the finer
^etHop and sentiments of the mind she
ttuT, perhaps, be said to bear the laurels
C^ tbae are especially within her sphere).
Altboogih all these attributes arc beaoti-
fu] nd valuable, still it is submitted that
Britbcr one feature nor another, nor indeed
the whole combined, constitute mental sujw-
'ioritj in the sense in which we are bound
t« mdnstand those terms. It is in the
intat powers of ruling, sound judgment, and
dttctetion, that superiority of mind is to be
■mgtit; and herein, doubtless, man sur-
pMNs woman, however far advanced site
msj be in the acquirements before alluded
t«; sad however inferior in such attainments
ttij be the unfortunate lot of her husband,
^ is the attributes which belong pecu-
^lyto the man, and come within his sphere
4 setioo, she is, doubtless, inferior. For a
proof of this assertion we need go no further
than to the domestic circle of him whose
wife assumes superiority, and takes the
position of ruler; the result of such a course
is invariably the destruction of order and
peace, and instead thereof is to be found, in
almost every instance, the greatest possible
disorder, discontent, and confusion.
We trust the foregoing remarks will suf-
fice to show that although viewing the sexes
as a whole, we feel bound to conclude that
mental superiority must be ascribed to the
man; still it is far from being our wish to
detract from or undervalue the capacity and
excellency of woman; on the contrary, we
are most anxious to ascribe to her all that
consistency will allow, and to encourage
her every effort to acquire those literary at-
tainments and accomplishments which lio
within her sphere.
Man, the noblest of creation's birth,
Itd^rued supreme throughout the earth,
Altts ! without companion blest.
In vaiu he souf^ht creation's whole.
In vain, there wr.h no human soul.
Till God did give him resL
Then from man's side God took a rib,
Then closed he up the flesh instead.
And with it woman form'd.
Man slept, indeed, but liltlo thought
AVhat sleep would do, what slee]> had wrought,
Awoke, and woman found.
ViR
OUGHT MONEY TO BE INTRINSIC OR SYMBOLICAL ?
IXTRINSIC— III.
pi
KoTWiTHffrASDUCO bulliou committees
*iUne books, currency laws and banking
^ there ought to be no intricacy about a
'■fk qnettion which practice will assuredly
*Mcr lor ns, if we dally too long over our
^>Hpu theories. To a commercial people
**9 is a necessary of life; and, when com-
**ie&seaQd interest combine, we anticipate
^ they win not blunder much. Hence,
^oisMBet of an intrinsic currency is pre-
'^Itifs cridnoe in its i«Tonr. It', while
I seeking the corroboration of principles, we
make no dissertation upon the perplexing
technicalities of trade balances, bullion prices,
monies banco, agiod, and similar niceties, our
silence must be laid to this account — that
they have nothing to do with the argument.
Mr. Harvey fumi&hes an excellent text,
when he says that " Labour is the strnrce of
all wealth, and money should be only the
certificate or memorandum of wealth." Com-
mercial systems and monetary regulalvQiA
954
OVOUX MOWKY TO BB mTtaWOC OR STHBeUCAL?
diraot and facilitate the aoqnisitioa of wealth,
bat cannot themselves oraate it Political
ecoDomists cannot oootrive a scheme which
shall snpenede hard work and industry.
Si^iaad is licb, because her men and ma-
ohinet are incessant^ producing: she will
oontinne to grow richer and richer every year
■0 long as she adds horse-power to horse-
power, in spite of a thousand dull voliimes
upon the circulating medium. There is no
call for astonishment should a nation flourish
after a bankruptcy, or a repudiation, or a
currency crash, because these are only symp-
toms of Buspoided animation, and not of
death. The laws of nature, defying the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, will continue
to yield crops and merchandise to the hand
of repentant labour. Whether we are dis-
ciples of Adam Smith or Qnesnai, we must
not, while investigating details, allow im-
portant truths to evaporate. Agriculture,
manufactures, and commerce, u they appear
in books, may disguise their operations under
the pretence of scientific intricacies; but see
them in the field, the workshop, and ware-
house, busy in straightforward, honest efforts
to amass and distribute the productions of
the " teeming earth," in order to support the
existence and enlarge the gratifications of
the family of man. Under the comfortable
asBurance of such facts let us proceed to
consider the use of money.
Money has its origin in the inconvenience
and inadequacy of barter. A nursery-tale
analyzation is scarcely required to show the
impossibility of payment in kind wherever
the division of labour has been accomplished.
The mason who has erected a building in a
distant neighbourhood cannot take home piles
of food and clothing in remuneration, for this
would be physical absurdity. He accepts
instead an equivalent in money, which will
procure him at home, and at convenient
seasons, whatever food and clothing he may
require. In this transaction, which is a type
of others, money acts merely as a medium, a
certificate, or counter. It has no intrinsic
power to clothe or feed ; it omnot force itself
upon the aoeeptance of the tradespeople; it
is a sheer unnnotifying piece of metal, per-
chance, or salt, or paper. It is a ticket, to
whioh common assent has imparted value
aud currency; and, while it is hoaooied by
the payment of the commodities whose price
itrepiesenti, U is, finr the parpoMB of com-
merce, equal in value to those coaunodities.
Withdraw the common assent, and the ticket,
losing its honour, resumes the homble des-
tiny of rags and metal. The truth of a pro-
p06iti<m is frequently made more palpable by
a demonstration of its canverse. Imagine;
therefbre, a nation to be suddenly deprived
of its cash; in the nature of things it Trill
recur to the primitive simplicity of stark
barter ; commodities will be bought with
c(Mnmodities, instead of being purchased i\itU
coin, as heretofore. So cumbersome a system
will work its own remedy; the weekly la-
bourer and monthly servant gmmbliag to
receive their pay in bulky and perishable!
articles — the merchant oppressed with the
tardy progress of his unwieldy business — tliG
whole people, continually anxious, incam^
moded, reduced to a savage existence— will
cry out for a restoration of the ancient plaoi
the convenience of the trustworthy tickets.
Money, then, is a substance to which thi
necessities of mankind have affixed a repre
sentative value. Now, the maintenance^ c
an assumed vslue depends upon two con
ditions — the mutual understanding and tl]
mutual faith of those who conspire to suppox
it Unless the value of m<»iey be precipe]
determined and universally rec(»gnise(1, tbei
will be constant inconvenience and liabiH(
to fraud: unless there be implicit faith in ij
currency, every extensive commerce will 1
checked. Consequently, a commanitT,
order to prosper, requires money, the vali
of which, once fixed, shall be secure fni
tampering interference, and the credit
which shall be steady and perpetual.
There are only two methods by whi
substance can be converted into money. O
method is, the attaching an arbitrary va]
to something in itself worthlesSf as in irlvij
to a piece of stamped psper the estimati
of £50. The other method consists in ado]
ing some substance which has been obtain
by lidxmr, and in establishing the price
the labour as the exchangeable value. Tl
is exemplified in the case of metallic coin:
sovereign, for instance, is equal in wortb
the coot of its digging, pnrH^og, shippij
and coining. All the money in the w<i
exists under one or other of these categor
Bank-notes, ezchequer*biHs, bills of
change (inland and forrign), bonds and G
pons, have an arbitrary valnation aifixc^, i
are ^fmbolieal money. Salt,iiida8, sbelU, <
OUGHT MOXET TO liE IXTIIIK-SIC OR 8YMBOUCAI. ?
255
I
lam. Ji>dI>1oqd5, pence, bhilling.s, nml fiouni!:!,
"^en ubtAiRetl bj labour, and bear the lion-
^^jmble denomination of intrinsic money.
y^ii tbf cjmbolical or intrinsic species give
tit the btrterinjs: prripensity of mankind the
"S^retrastworthj jruarantee?
Hxit J of value and credit for cnrrcnoy wo
c«n(iD>:nted to be indi^penAiible requisites of
t]^■ I'lcliangeable meilium. Symbulical money
^ii] nnt pledge itaelf to possess either: fmm
l^rth it presumes to disregard suspicion. But
I>4lltkal economy i* not KatibHed u-ith com-
I^Smntary pledges. Value cunnot be fixed
ti-f <<nt]it confirmed so long as the issue of
8at«rfluoos paper by needy exche<iucr8 and
Inr.^ engravers susj<cnds mistrust over a
^ti<c. And in what manner an effectual
c.>a*.r.ilcan be placed over these industrious
^'''I'f^r.plate printers will perples the tiiirtietli
<^ta7T, moral and republican, but still hu-
'^Ufl 121 its generation. Why are the bills of
a rvpQtable merchant accepted? Because it
i^ Mier«d that he has property to l>ack
*lKn;and reasonable credit is jn»tifiabIo on
^lie Sitmnd of expedience. But when a crisis
^'b^ ruin upc>n a score of houses, where is
^ Tilne of their " promise to pay ? " — flown
^'^ their credit, which alone supp^irted it.
^ndit, in this cose, reposed unworthily upon
^nliriDouTablc man" and his flimsy bills:
uililce manner would it unworthily rejio^e
^p«i la honourable govemmint and its llimsy
Ir.rrin&ic money, on the other hand, havinir
*u!i« p<|aal to the cost of its creation, will
^ rtcoinpense the secret fraud of the private
^tffcial specuhitor. A nccessiitous ministry
*'I1 be powerless to regulate its issue;:, which
^^•1 U accommoiiated to the natural laws of
'^imnre. bein;; plentiful or scarce as the
cfffdcd »}iaU htrengthcn or relax. If the
<'if{kj whence the circuUtion is in the first
inalanc* obtained be steadily jiropnrtioned to
1-4 growing wants of an increasing pnpula-
••» and an extending business, thi; value of
SK-OfTwi'.l preserve the constancy which is in-
^pst'able from if. Presuming, for argument's
ttkf, the possibility of a drculation so .id-
jsited, we shall obtain a perfect currency —
^ ia Taioe, because no one can manufac-
tcn it more cheaply, and because govcrn-
aict cannot flood or contract the market at
pitiRire — esiaUiahed in credit, since no one
fsa lefose a tender essentially valuable, en-
'^med by caatom tod law.
The commercial tramactions of civilized
people rely u|N>n the system of credit to a
vast degree;. Trade would be liamjieretl, aud
judicious sfwculation wholly checked, if every
bargain were stnick with cash. The evils
of rash creilit must not be attributed to the
use of mnnry: were barter rc-estublishcd, it
wouhl be found useful — in fact, necessary—
to allow debts to stand over; and a debt is
still » debt, whether due in goods or coin. W
merchants n»nst»ut to accept tlicir creditors'
[luper certificates — if tradehmen chooi^e to
bandy these certificates — if capitalists will
put faith in SiKiniah honnnriiitruNted to pen
and ink — they ten»pt furtune, wLsely it may
be or unwisely, yet of their own frf:e will,
Papi-r there always will be, imd nior.; and
more of it as enlarged connexions and facUi-
tated communications render the employrrient
of it more desirable and more s'.'cure. But
it would be cniel and mobt pi'micious in-
jiuiticc to coiii^iel men nirainst their will to
traffic with unsubstantial paper, which might
be depreciated at any moment by the fraud
of government or individuals. r«irgerios now
arc coinjuirativcly mre, because thr;y have to
conti-nd with the prudence I'f X\u*sq who
recognise familiar i>i;^atiin>s and intriratc
dehign.s; but they wmihl be unlimited, if
millions of jiefjplo were compellctl t<> use
notes of low amount, whose validity, ob-
viously, they could not ascertain.
We pn-sumed the jiossibility of adjusting
the original supjily of intrinsic money to the
demand. Since the discovery of America,
the quantity of the precious metals obtained
fmm the mines has never exceeded the ;rrow-
ing avidity of conmiorce. Kurniw may have
had less, but certainly tflie has not hud iixiro
metallic money than slic rojuired. Tlie
prrnluce of the Califomian and Australian
tields threatens to disturb the existent (-iiui-
librium. Abundance of gold, as of any other
commodity, will tend to cbeajvcn it: and until,
by the faihire of the supply, the ])rice of gold
be again permanently settled, the inevitable
advance iu the price of other articles will
causo great perplexity and dispute in the
mutter of wages, n,>nts, and other payments.
Whether ]>:irliament could contrive a system
by which a progressive accommodation might
hi* effected, is a subject most digressive and
ditliculC. A universally-diffuscil commerce
will, of course, absorb more of the metals
than has hitherto been required; but, sUoubl
356
OUGHT MOHST TO BB IKTttWaiC OB SYMBOLICAL?
the xninet be inezhsnstible, raoonrBe must
be had to Bilver or platinum ; or we may even
anticipate that chemiBtry will oompoond a
snbetance, expensive, dorable, portable, dif-
ficult of imitation, poBseesing all the requi-
sites of intrinric money. The substitution
of gold for a corresponding amount of paper
to be withdrawn is inadvisable, for this rea-
son,-^at gold is a portion of the commu-
nity's capital, incapable of increase by ger-
mination— a dead mass; and therefore, how-
ever small a quantity exists in a country
beyond the need, is so much capital lying at
waste.
Leaving practical details to the suggestions
of the future, and considering the main ques-
tion in its theoretic principles, we conclude
that an intrinsic currency ought to be the
basis of a monetary system, because the credit
which justifies the employment of symbolical
money is not universal, nor can it ever become
so. The progress of time may abolish na-
tionalities, and thus admit a world-wide
reciprocation of paper; but there will never
be so complete a reliance upon personal in-
tegrity as to render needless the in terrorem
enforcement of hard cash.
The benevolent but obscure intentions of
J. H. are not sufficiently developed to be re-
fated, except by the tenor of a general argu-
ment. Money would be cheap enough, and
beyond his liking, upon the symbolical sys-
tem. Fifty milli<m pounds* worth of ccnned
metal, accumulated through many years, is
not too expensive for the service it renders,
especially if it be indispensable. Englishmen
pay a great deal every year for their clothes
and food, and a great deal slso for tbeir
ships, and carts, and railways, because these
things are useful. If they grodge to paj for
so useful an article as money, let them do
without it, if they can ; or try paper, if they
choose.
Mr. Harvey hits hard when he asks why s
whole popiilation have turned into grubbera
and cinder-sifters. Will he describe his pro«
tection against the forgery of paper? Th<
Australian grubbers are, in effect, forgers
but their trick will in time be frustrated b^j
the failure of the gold, the legal supremacy
of another metal, or the introduction of \
valuable substitute. How will the symbolid
mints maintain their credit agunst skilfij
imitators? A spuriouf sovereign can be M
tected and tested; a spurious five-shilliDJ
note will be as good as its better — a pretf
bull, but a sad joke. The scheme of ei
hancing tokens with a labour value by meai!
of Socialist bonks is liable to the -objectioi
already adduoed, and repeated fulures hai
brought it into bad repute. Besides, th
scheme cannot be Mparated from Sociali^i
the merits of which may be great, but i
have nothing to do with them at prese]
Many considerations connected with our sii
ject we have necessarily left untouched, I
the ramifications of the question would occu
a treatise. We have simply endeavoared,
a comprehensive and conclusive argnine
founded upon the nature of things, to est^
lish the necessary qualities of money ; and i
conviction stands that a currency onght
possess the foundation of intrinsic value.
H. 1
SYMBOLICAL.— III.
This discussion will not possess much of
interest or importance in the eyes of anti-
bulHonists, unless we adopt that strict inter-
pretation of the word money which makes it
synonymous with legal tender. It will be
known to most of your readers that all money,
commonly so called, is not legal tender: that
is to say, it is not such an instrument as
a debtor can legally compel his creditor to
accept in satisfaction of his claims. Por
instance, copper is not legal tender, neitiier
is silver, above a certain limited amount,
a Some few years ago paper was legal tender;
now gold alone is so. The question we
propose to ourselves therefore is, Ought
the legal tender of a country to possess
intrinsic or a representative value? or
the indefinite original words of the qj
tion, " Ought money to be intrinsic or ti
bolical ? "
It is a mistake to suppose that it i5
part of the necessities of our case entirel
condemn the use of metallic carrenc^g
believe that, for the ordinary parpoeM
trade, we could not propose an adT-austafj
substitute for our present silver nrul c^
coinage. Paper would be impracticab]
small sums; wood would be nnsATe; i
metallic currency of other than intritisie
would, in a greater degree th«nw^ood, 1
\
OUGHT afOVET 10 BB INTBINaiC OB SYMBOLICAL ?
S57
powdtodiedepredAtiomiof ooiDers. I mere-
fore prefter eopper and silTer to any other
tiad of enrrescy of the same Talne. After
tills avowi], then, anj wit or wisdom which
iDtjbe expended in the attempt to prove the
nnpncticabilit/ of a representative correncj
r^soall Taluea, will be miaappUed and ex-
ICQ^inrain.
At this prant, however, mj favourable
9aioa in respect to a metallic currencj
«^i^j ceases. Gold money, in every pos-
<i^ &rm, I cooaider an unmixBd evil.
Mj fir^ charge against moiH^,, or legal
t<^^ d jntrinsic value, is that it is hope-
h^j iosofficient for the supply of our com-
aietial necessities. It is a high estimate to
?Ti £10,000,000 as the amount of our present
lesil tender. And this amount, it must be
^^TBe io mind, cannot be so largely extended as
*3 luep pace with our increasing wants. Add
to tins £40,000,000 of bullion £37,000,000
'f fioCcs, the amount of our paper circulation,
Vid vehave thns a circulation of £7 7,000,000,
ti:dasiTe of purely commercial money. Well,
tbfa, if our metallic currency is sufficient for
u, vc may at once sweep away the irholc \
^'<k of our paper currency. To do this,
t^^rtrcr, would be to reduce our circulation
2£^j ooe-half ; and unless our present cir-
co-nrioa is really superabundant, in a super-
ainjodaat degree, the country could no more
s:^ it than it could to have our little island
<^3ipresBed into half its present dimensions.
Bqi ve may judge, by the light of history, of
tii« probable effects to ourselves of such a
redaction in our circulating medium. We
^ such a contraction of the currency in
1SI6 : and in reference to the panic of that
icnfid, ** Mr. Lloyd, the eminent banker, de-
pend before a committee of the House of
OmBeoRj in 1819, that the circulation of
tbtceantry was at its highest in 1813 and
l^U, but that it was reduced nearly one-
>^ in 1816 and 1817. The consequence
^3) a scene of agricultural and monetary
distress of unprecedented severity. The
^ai noffiber of bankruptcies in 1815 was
liSS; in 1816 they increased to 2,089, being
« aldttbn erf fifty-fire per cent, in one year.
TW government became alarmed, and the
^st^tkn of cash payments was further ex-
t«ied Drom July, 1816, to July, 1818. By
t^ means the downward course of industry
»ai pfonpdy stayed. The bankruptcies,
*Wdi b 1817 were 1,575, were reduced in
1818 to 1,056, being a decrease of thii^
three per cent"*
Here, then, wc have, as the remit of con-
tracting the currency to this extent, an
amoii&t of individual distress and ruin in-
dicated by 6,005 bankruptcies in oi;| period
of four years.
Sir James Graham has stated, ''on the
authority of the most competent judges,**
that " the losses sustained at that period by
individuals, counterbalanced all the profits of
all the bankers during the war.*' From this
we may judge of our probable condition wero
we to reduce the circulation to any consider-
able extent, as we should do were we to dis-
card our " worthless rags."
But if any further evidence were necessary
to prove that any amount of metallic money
we can command would l)e totally insufficient
for the supply of our monetary necessities, it
is supplied by Sir Robert Feel himself. In
the bill which he introduced, in 1846, he
gave to the Bank of England an issue in
notes of £20,000,000 ; to the country banks,
£8,000,000; to the Scotch, £6,000.000;
and to the Irish, £3,000,000: £37,000,000
in all : thirtij-one milUons of which rest upon
no metallic basis whatever!
Are we not, then, justified in our strong,
condemnation of an intrinsic legal tender,
when we see the " apostle of bullionism," in re-
modelling our monetary system, providing for
a circulation of £31,000,000 of " flimsies ? ""
Our next charge against money possessing
intrinsic value is, that it has a natural ten-
dency to create those disastrous commercial,
panics which in previous years have brought
this country to the very verge of revolution..
There are but two ways in which gold coin
can be made available for purposes of currency.
The first is, to make the coin of any size and
weight, simply affixing to it a mark to indi-
cate its weight and fineness, and leaving its
value to be determined by the current price
of gold in the market. But it will be seen
at once that this system could not be carried
out, on account of the vast amount of trouble
and inconvenience to which it would give
rise. The other way is, to make the coin of
some definite weight and fineness, and to give
it a fixed denominational value, at which it
shall be current throughout the kingdom.
But, it is also quite obvious here, that, in
* Duncan's " Letters on Monetary Science."
2SS
OUORT MOITKT TO DB' DTTBDCazC OB SYMBOLICAL?
order to give the com s definite and i!zed
valoe^ the price of gold itself, in the market,
zhnst also be fixed; otherviae the plan would
offer a preminm to private specnlators to
take advantage of the finctuationa of the
market, and to derive a considerable profit
by a brisk, though clandestine, competition
with the mint And it will also be quite
evident, that the price so fixed must neces-
sarily be a bw one, else, being higher than
that of neighbouring countries, the evil just
noticed would not be obviated, while that of
smuggling would be added to it. But sup-
posing, however, these two points to be gain«l,
we should then poetess u gold currency idiich
would possess the apparent double advantage
of not being subject to any fiuctuation in
value, and of being current everywhere within
the limits of the United Kingdom. Now,
most of your readers will have discovered
that we have sketched the precise plan
.adopted with reference to our present gold
coinage; and, I suppose, many of them will
think that, by its adoption, we, as a nation,
have advanced a considerable way towards
perfection in monetary science. But let us
HOT see how the system works.
A time of national prosperity is a time
when the bulk of the population is employed
at good wages, and, consequently, of high
prices and large profits. Now at such a time
it must necessarily happen that gold, being
tied down by law to a certain dead-level
price, cannot participate in the general rise
of prices ; and it therefore becomes the
cheapest commodity we have. Under these
circumstances, then, we are visited by the
foreign merchant, and gold being to him not
fiimply money, but a commodity, and, as such,
tlie cheapest in our markets, he naturally
takes it away in preference to anything else.
This causes a drain of the metal from the
country, which would be nothing were it
simply ffold; but being the sole legal tender
of the country, it becomes of serious conse-
quence. The first effect is to cause a ruin-
ous competition in trade, and ruinous dis-
counts at the bankers : in a short time follows
the panic; banks are besieged ; bankruptcies
become ominously frequent; and then the
full tide of consternation and misery rolls
over the nation, under the effects of which it
lies for the time prostrate aiiu helpless.
There is nothing of imagination or of
exaggeration in this statement of the results
of the system under notice. It h not a
" sketch by fancy drawn," but a fair tran-
script from the page of English history. We
have already presented one piece of evidence
respecting these effects, and we now offer
another illnstration of the same truth.
We wish to impress upon our readers
that this memorable panic (1825) arose solelj
from the want of a single commodity, gold.
All other commodities were plentiful. The
prosperity of the country is attested by the
speech from the throne in that year (1825).
'* There was literally a whole population,'*
says Mr. Francis,* **with food in a6tm«
dance staring them in the face, unable to
procure it, as nothing but gold would be
taken." *'Many a firm, of nntmpeacbable
honour and unquestionable solvency, was
compelled to bend before the storm. It was
remarkable that the question would soon be,
not Who goes? but Who stands?* " It was
stated that the distress arose from want of
confidence in men able to pay 40s. 50s. and
60«. in the pound. The officers of the mint
were ordered to coin sovereigns with all pos*
sible dispatch; they worked night and day:
during the space of a week 150,000 were
manufactured every twenty-four hours. But
this activity did not stay the panic, or remove
the pressure ; and the reason is obvious. The
sovereigns were still kept down to their nunt
price, and being cheaper than other com-
modities, were exported as fast as they were
coined. The measure did not help British,
subjects, but enriched foreigners."f
Now we ask, in conclusion, would or could
these things have happened had we had &
legal tender of representative money? We
say, No. Foreigners would have haid no in-
ducement to abstract our paper money, which
to them tDonld be ** worthless rags:" and
while we were allowed to retun our instni—
ment of exchange, we should also have
received the enhanced price of our goods r
because, evidently, the forngn merchant,
would have to make his election between ooz-
goods and our gold; and, if he chose thcr
latter, being paid in paper for the goods whicli
he sold, he would hai^e to buy it at it3
market price. But, as it woaId,'»t that pric«,
be of less service to him, as a merchant, th^n
manufactured goods, he would most certainlT-
* ** History of tbe Bank of Englaad,** voL li.
chap. L
+ Duncan's « Letters on Monetary Soieuoe," p . « .
WtfOLD COKMVSmat FBOQCOTS THB UAPFnTBIS OT MAStf
SS9
kite tiken tiie latter, and tbta woald liave i eocmtry, Instead of impoTextflliing and min-
Uped to prumoCe tbe pxoBpecity of the
log It.
Ire^b.
Inrial (Enrmraii[.
WOULD COMMUXISM PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF MAN ?
NEGAXn'E AHTICLE.— VI.
Is Older to come to a jost and impartUI
«a.'!3swB on the sabject of oar present
titftate. ve most conaider ComoKinisni in ita
Ifnxifies, and mqnire what would be its
eSseti.
Br the term Commnnism, I understand
tittt principle which wonld 'render the earth
tsi lU it eentains — all its prodactions, whe-
ther aaiaa], vegetahle, or mineral, and the
hh^T expended on snch prodnctions — ^aa
tfisconmioo propertj'of the haman famil/.
I: airgeates eqimlitj- of laboor, and eqnaltty
cf the pn^ta of anck laboar; that tlje wi«-
03i& of the philosopher and the folly of the
elova are Iwth equalJj the property of the
c^auncninr; and both are to be rewarded, not
is pxrportiQn to the merit of each, or the
S^ respectirelj done, but each 'n to receive
« Eke feLire of the Ueasin^ of this life.
Aaj bere w« may ask, at the outset, Is it
^^teot with human nature for the plii-
ic^er to wish that the profits of his study
C^aid be shared by the iliiterate? No; tbe
bhtstzioufl person wonld not wish the wages
^ ^ laboar to be distributed amon"r>t ererr
^iia, vbo lud not contributed at all to snch
'*-W'. Yet this is what the Commuuists
'*^^ They woold have the indnstrions
^3d tbe buy, th« wise man and the fool,
^ leaned and the unlearned, the philoeo
}kfr nd the down, all pUced on the same
J/Jtiis;;.
^'Wfbrmtfaegreatindncemeots tolabonr?
Jj* ^ar of wsat k, perhaps, the first motive.
^ by the prindpies of Communism that
*« v^Hild be taken away. A person would
Uflw that ht need not exert his power, fur
|**wjU partake equally of the general
Pj^^fits, whether his talent were used or not.
°^ *<mld aee that if he were tbe most in*
<^aitnoaa, aldlful, and cunning workman,
J5»t be would receive no greater remunera-
te than the idlest and most stupid member
of the community. Another inducement to
labour is tlie desire of acquiring property.
Yet the Communist would take away this,
by deprinng a man of the posse^aijn of any.*
thing that was not necessary to hU actual and
present wants. What, then, wonld be the
effect of Communism? Wonld it not create
idleness, the greatest of all evils? The pro-
gress of literature, scienoe, and art would be
immediatdy stopped, and, as F. F. remarks,
we should soon become " a mere food, clothes,
and shelter-producing community." The
community wjuld not consent to support the
astronomer, the traveller, and the mechanic
for a lifetime iu return for the chance of their
diiicovering a new planet, a nevr land, or a
new piece of machinery. But suppose some
were supported in order to study in each
different department of science, while others
were condemned to the performance of
manual labour. Is it possible to suppose
that all would be satinfied with the depart-
ment of business allotted to them? One
man*s work would be easier than another's.
All wotd'l be discontented, all would be grum-
bling. Truly this would make a wonderful
exhibition of " a happy family ** of Com-'
mtmtate. Suppose all were employed in
mere manual labour. Then I would put the
questiou before proposed by F. F. : If one
man can prtKluce in ten houn that which takes
another fifteen, how are they to be treated?
Are both to work tbe same time? If so,
would not this cause great dissatisfaction?
Besides, one man woold fancy that he
performed more than his share, while a lazy
fellow, a thorough Communist, would be
idling away his time, knowing that whether
he worked much or little, there was an equal
share of the profits for him. I should like
very much to see bow the advocates of Com-
munism would have affairs managed. I
should like an epitome of what th«y would-
260
WOULD OOMM0XI8M PBOMOTE TRB BAFPIXEflS OF 1IA2I?
consider as proper rules for the gmdance of'
society, if snch a state could be formed —
how erery man woald be compelled to per-
form bis quota of labour — how tlie different
stations of business and labour could be
occupied so as to give satisfaction to all, so
that none mifirht fancy his neighbour had
easier work than himself. I do not know
the full extent the Communists would go to,
nor do any of the preceding articles in favour
of it give us a full account of its principles.
I suppose the first thing on being formed
into a Communistic body would be to con-
sider all property as common. As long as
there was anything to eat, drink, or wear,
we might go on merrily; but when all was
gone, what would come next? ]f one man
worked, he would have a feeling of jealousy
at others idling away their time and still
reaping the same benefit as himself, and this
feeling would render all reluctant to labour.
A man's labour would not be for his own
benefit, but for that of the community. I
hope that sufiicient has been said to show
that the principles of Communism can never
be carried out; and that if they could, they
would not prove a benefit to mankind.
I will now endeavour to prove " the right
which a private individual has to the pos-
session of a part of the earth, debarring
some of his fellow-creatures from all interest
in such part.*' In the beginning, we are
informed that God gave to man *' dominion
over the fish of the sea, and over the
fowl of the air, and over every living thing
that moveth upon the earth." On this is
based the fundamental principle of Com-
munists, that as God gave to man dominion
over all the earth, the earth and its produce
ought to be the common property of all.
The doctrine which they would inculcate
would have done very well whilst the earth
continued bare of inhabitants, when it is
reasonable to suppose that all was common
amongst them, and that every one took from
the public stock to his own use such things
as his immediate necessities required. These
j^eueral notions of property were then sufiS-
oient to answer all the purposes of human
life; but when mankind increased, it was
absolutely necessary to entertain conceptions
of more permanent dominion. As human
life grew more refined and dvUizedf nome-
I1DUS oonvenicnoes were devised to render
it more agreeable. But would a man be
at the trouble to provide any so long as he
had only a property in them in cpmmon with
others — if as soon as he left his tent or
pulled off his garment, the next person wbo
})asi»ed by would have a right to inhabit
the one and to wear the other? Even the
brute creation, to whom everything else is
in common, maintain a sort of private pro-
perty in their own domains — ^the birds vf
the air have nests, and the boasts of the>
field caverns, and they deem the invasion of
them as flagrant injustice, and will sacri-
fice t heir lives to preserve them. The article
of food, we should think, would be one of t he-
first objects of consideration; and, therefore,
in order to sustain themselves by a less pre-
carious manner than hunting, they won id
be induced to gather together such animali^
as were of a tamo nature, and thus a per-
manent property would be established in
their flocks and herds. The support of the^e
cattle would naturally make the article of
water of great importance; and therefore
we read in the book of Genesis of many cod-
tentions respecting wells, the exclusive pn-^-
pert^ of which, even in those days, appeared
quite naturally (though in oppofiition w
Communistic principles) to have been cstah-
lishcd in the first digger, even in places
where the ground and herbage adjoining
remained in common. So we read,* Xh?\
Abraham, although a stranger and sojourner
in the land, asserted his right to a well in
the counti7 of Abimelech, because he had
digged such well, and was suflfered to enjny
it without molestation. This is (he first
instance I can recollect where private ajt-
propriation of what was liefore in comn^uj)
is bufiered, on account of the labour requisitt'
in rendering useful the land so in common.
Again, we find that Isaac, about ninety
years afterwards, reclaimed his fathcr*s pri«-
perty, after much contention with the Tbi-
iistlnes, and he was permitted quietly ar.d
peacefully to enjoy it, not in comnum wit]i
others, but solely to his separate tiae ami
benefit.t As the world became more largely
populated, it was then made clear tliat tho
earth would not produce her fruits in snih^
cient quantities without the assistance oi
tillage; but who would be at the labour oi
tilling ity if the land was the common pm<
perty of all, and any one might aeiae nfmw
• Gen. xxi. 95,90.
f Gen. srri. \5, ]&
WOULD oosuiuansM rcoiioTs the happixess of max ?
2G1
Djojtheprodnceoftlio tiller's labour, brother, bot to surptijts him. There is a
', and art? Had not, therefore, pro- [trogressivo clement tvitliin us all, which,
en Tested in some persons, the world when duly cultivated, leads us to seek after
vo cuutiuued a forest, and wc should something better than we luive yot attained,
e bei'n little better than 8ava<:^e3. Even Christ tenches us * to provoke ono
«itj thus begat proportv, and in j another to love and good works,* and bo
euorc that propeitjr, recourse w:is i always pn^sinr; on towards perfection,
civil socitftv, which brougbt al^nr; i Where there is no competition there is no
a long train of iuse[jnrcible cou- advancement. S:ivaj;es and barbarians norer
3, such as states, goverumcutH, Liwd, ! bring tiiis principle to bear upon anytlung
«nt9. and the public excrci:»c of ' but mere feats of physical strength and deeds
dati-rs. Thus connected, it was : of cruelty, and, consequently, tliey remain in
lat a {.art only of bociety was sulH- 1 the sainc state from age to age. In China,
prorlde. by their manual lalx^ur. f<)r ; there i^ little competition, and mind is nte-
iary i^ubdi^tence of all; and, tliure- ; rcolyped. The Japancbo arc now what they
•ortnnitics were utiorded to others to I were a thous^ind or two thousand years ago,
! tlie human mind, to invent useful because nothing new or foreign is admitted
1 to lay the foundations of science, i among tliem. In several despotic govem-
lit to pni])erty thus became vc!*ted ' monts every motive for emulatiou is taken
oocy, and though there is a diii'er- \ away, and their casto is perpetual. The
opbioa here, yet all writers ::irreo j nobles aiHi nobles, the priests are priests, and
s by occupancy that such title was
y gained. Some writers &ssert, that
t is holdcn by the tacit consent of
the slaves arc slaves, from age to age.
" We are sorry to find that some of the
professed J rie/yl* of liberty and of the vork-
., that the first occupant should be imj clmscs, in our day, are lifting their voices
tr; and others maintain that lliere n;;aiuat comixitition, and condemning it as a
)eed of their assent, but th:it the very | nuibt vicious and destructive principle. Tho
rapa^'^vlNringasign of hoilili/ la 'jnui% i iiiea of revolution and equality is one of tho
aiut^il justice J suiKcieot to gaiu a icildest rbtiom that has ever entered the
mind of any dubamino khtiiusiast. If
I have endeavoured to show, that ! all the land and property of the country were
iie eirth was originally tho common : equalhj divided to-day, there would bo an
of all, yet as it wa4 not pyimanlt/ immtMHc disparity in the circumstances of
o/iie, nor did it become so until im- the population before to-morrow evening,
ud meliorated by the boiliiy htl'iur , unless those who undertook the matter
xapnr.t, each man, l>y sei.'.ing such ' should also limit tho exp(.>nditurc of every
was most convenient to him, not i>crNOu, by constructing a tariff of house-
T oo uriED BY OTiiKiis, and ex- hold economy, by observing pains and penal-
on i: such bsdily laliour, did give : lies on its non-observance, and ordaining
at and most reasonable title to an a number of govennnent officials to detect
and jimiish offenders. There must be a
! fmancicr at evitry house to inquin.' how
much each individual spends, or else one
B property therein, and thus, as
ghtly ubserx'ed, ** Labour corutif^'tc.*
t to ovnerikipj and is Uie original
tnperty"
lias been laid by the advocatci o
will lay out, and another will lay up, more
than his brother or sister, and the grand
alsm on the evils of competition, and ; beau ideal of equality will be infringed on
beg to subjoin, by way of conclusion,
rttpecial benefit, a few remarks irom
writer, who says: —
K is a world of thought in this one
»d (ie., competition), and there are
9 to which we are more indebted
• prindplt which it expre8,<cs. Alan
Wtly A eompetinijr being. He is
Ij dispoBedi not o^y to^ imitate his
and overthrown. But the institution of sncli
a system of espionage and rcstr»nt wonld
overtop any tyranny of which we have ever
heard or read. The idea which some enter-
tain of a nation of Comamnists involves it in
the utmost despotism. As soon as an indus-
trious man obtains a sixpence more than his
htzy neighbour, he must give it up or have it
takeu from him, that the indolent miacttiKxA,
263
WOULD COMMUNISM TROMOTK TIIR ITAPPD(ES8 OF MA3I ?
vho does not like to exert liimsclf, ir.aj share
a part of it. We hare been eztremelj sorrj
for some years to find how many individuals
of apiMxrently philantliropic sentiments liave
been led away by the delusion, that by
restraining persons from obtaining iirealtii
and independency, yon would cnt up every
ct:1 root and branch, and completely provide
for the whole population. With morality,
liberty, and wealth on their lips, they strive
to render virtue impossible, by converting
every human being into a machine; to aboli^h
freedom in labour, buying and sellinpr, by
tran>fonning every man, woman, and child
into a slave; and to banitih all pro-operity,
by reducing each person into a penniless
pauper.
**lf we allow men and women to be free,
there must certainly bo competition, tn-
tqtuiVly^ and a thousand oiher differences of
opinion, pursuits, and circumstances. England
owes hergreatness to competition. We have
resolved, from a very remote ii.i^e, ni»t only
to raise ourselves, ami to Ti>n abore (me
another, but also to outdo forei^'n nations;
and here has been one great secret of our
progress.
" We are told that many evils have re-
sulted from this spirit of rivair}'. S:> ve
may say, in reply, many evils very often
result from eating and drinking, and there-
fore appetite is a bad thing; or, that bumsB
hands often do much mischief, and ther^<m;
we should have been better if we h«d beca
Iwm without anv. Wicked men nbusc everr-
thin;;, and would do far moro da:n.i;'e to
their ppecios under the system of Com-
munism than it is pofu^ible for tbeni to do
under this of competition. But the (duae
of a thing is the very antipodes of its hm:
There mav bo an honcbt, a noble, and a
christian rivalry. There is no reaMn vby
a man who competes with another ithoiiid
bo unjnst or oppreshive. It is not compe-
tition that produces low wages ot selBshnesR-
Far from this, we arc per>uaded thst the
working classes owe innumerable blessin)^
to this very emulation which some are lo
seriously condenming."
I now conclude, remarking, that if thefs
is any truth in the assertion, that "BrittfflS
never shall be slaves," a4 a natural 000-
sequence, CommvnUm never shall p/i'ewtl
D.H.
AFFTRMATIVE ARTICLE.-VI.
A FURTiiER argnment in favonr of the
ability of Commuiiism to promote human
happiness is derivable from the moral l>ene-
fits it would confer upon individuals and
societies. It has been ever the problem of
Utopians, from the time of Pliito to that of
Morelly, " To find a situation in which it
should be nearly impossible that man hhould
be depraved or wicked.'* ♦ This most im- '
portant of all social prr^lems is, in its gene-
rality, satisfrictorily solved by Communism. '
We say, in its generality. It is not to be
supposed that by a mere commencement of
an outward Communitivo constitution of
things, that human beings will at once
become virtuous or wi^e, saints or sages: '
some religious insjiirations and moral im-
pulses must always be presupposed. Granted
the maximum of these, and wo would con- \
tend, then, that Ccmimnnism would be the
most consonant sphere for their practical >
action: and granted the minimum of these,
• Morelly's " Code d< la Xuturc," p. 37. Pai-i«.
and we would argue that Communism woU
be the most perfect school for their derel^
menf. Compare, in fart, the dan|?enn»
positions in which })rivate property pis*
its holders, with the contrary conditions con-
tingent upon a voluntary comronnion rf
goods, and you cannot but give tlie !■••
tV'rence to the latter, as n (.phere fur the
evolution and maintenance of virtue, tail
thus as conferring moral benefits, most biglilf
productive of human happiness. .
Let us glance, then, at several instinctf
in illustration of the moral argument agsiM^
private property, and in favour of CoB*
niuntvm. Our first hhall be an extreme cx^
** The bad Lord Lonsdale," an oppoaert
of the lioekingham administration in Gcfl>t*
the Third's reign, became Li»rd Lieutenirt
of Cumberland and Westmoreland, and '^
sesAor of an immense estate. He assnfflrf
the savage haughtiness of a feudal chief, aw
exacted a serf- like submishion from hii pej|
and abject dependants. As he passed thns^
Tenrith, awe and silence pervaded the «■•
habifaLts, and a tremor raa through tk*
"WOULD C03UfUXI5M rROXOTB THK IIAl*riNES8 OF MAN ?
263
tQVQ u the gloomv despot travcreed its
itnrt!. HU despotic dl!>position manifested
ibelf on every occasion. Speaking of Wtiite-
iKm, of which bonMigh he was the patron.
lie uiii he was in the posvesKion of tlie laml,
tb* Sre, ami the water — a U^ost which is
thQf mentirjued in the Kolliad : —
■Era hf the eleiiirali his poww ronfi-s^nl,
Oi'msaes an J boratigbii JA»UHdiiItf btuuJk poR-
Mineil;
Anil one *ad •erritiiJc nlike denot>*4
The idave that labours and thcslav^' that votes."
A: lome periods of his life, even, he n>sistcd
tix psjnient of ail bills. His lordship either
Glared that 1j:s creditors were knttveSf or
titthe knew nothing; about them. In this
htt«r claxi$ was the father of William Words-
Vflftli, vbo died, leaving the pwt ojid four
(xW heliJess children. The exr^cutors of
tit? will, foreseeing tlie result of a legal con*
tot with a millionaire, withdrew opfKisition,
^ing to Lord Lonsdale s sense of justice
^ pajment; but thcj leaned on a broken
nd, for the wealthy debtor (l*!ed and made
Here, then, we see private projjerty giving;
^ power to exercise tyranny, to excite fear
ao-i selfish SiubmL^sion, and to practice dis-
iwc^ily with iinpnnity. Here are tlirce of
tl* elements — land, fire, and water — mono-
plueJ by prii'ate property. How wide the
iaakral intiuences thus capable of being
Ailizcd! How dire thus to the sonl, the
iadiridaal possession of such power, and how
UdiU'n;; its social effects! That the one
*« have adduced is an extreme cu^e, we
fcHr know; but we contend that it only
tbsi comprises, in an individiuil instance,
tke dindftd details of the immoral iniliience
^ prirate property generally. There are,
udnd, thanks to the radical good in human
tttoTF; but few Lord Lonsdalcs. There are,
^nerer, many minor men, who, in the
^Rregate of their characters, compusc an
ttUstdcd image of his lonlship. Worse still,
Mm flactnations of fortuiu', certain com-
^Bttioos of cenL per cent., may be the hot-
^ to ruse other individnid Lord Lfimxlales,
vlttie the immond influences uf jtrivate pro-
}((tj eootinoe in the world.
Uuk, bowerer, that we do not a.ssert that
pi*Ue property is the abstract cause uf
crime and immorality. These, we dieply
feel, have their original secnls in the sintiU
spirit : but we contend that these seeds are
terribly nursed and brought forward under
tho framework of private property— tliat
the]*e they find nutriment fur their mr^nstrous
gmwths and most dontruetive developments.
Coiiimoo proi>erty. although it changed not
human nature, would at leu:»t cea^e to afibrd
those easy stimulants and convenient accei-
sories to vice, which a monetary currency
now sujiplies. The lower the natun*, indi'efl.
the more prone is it to theshiful temptationa
connected with private pn>perty; but even
the higher natures, who have honestly
o];jene<l their bri>ai»ts to us, have some tiuiir
or other during their exihtcnee here been
subject to the immoral intiuences of whicli
private pn)perty is the bribe and aliment.
Heritage aiid succession, the primary legi-
timate results of the BVbtem of private pro-
perty, atford us an illustration of this in an
iustauci', from the bio;;raphy of Cowper,
which will speak for itself: —
" Sad thoughts," says his bingrapher, " were
now crowtling np-m Cowjx^r. He was now
in the thirty-second year of his age, hi.s
patrimony was well nigh spent, and, to use
ids own words, there was no appearance that
he sliouM ever repair the damage by a for-
tune of his own getting. He began to be
a littlo apprehensive of approaching Witnt,
and under that apprehension, talking one
day of his affairs with a friend, he expresj-e.l
his hope, that if the clerk of the journals of
the House of Lords should die, his kiusman.
Major Cowper, who had the place at his
disposal, would give him the appointment.
* We both agreed,' said he, * that the business
of the place being transacted in jirivate,
would eawctly suit me; anil b<ith exp^es^ed
an anxious wihh for his deuth, that i might
be providetl for. Thus did 1 covet what Gotl
had commanditl me not to covet, and in-
volved myself in deeper guilt by doing it in
tho spirit of a mnnlercr. It pleased the
Lord,' he conchwled, ' to give me my heart's
desire, and in it and with it an immediate
pnnishment of my crime.' '•
Of tho immoral influences, in tho midst
of which certain i.-la**se8 exist, thrmigh tho
posit i> ins of private property, uuirk the fol-
lowing four; —
,* "McBoin of Ji. of Rookingliani, ' ice., vol.
• Suulhcy » " Cunpcr," vol. ii. p. 10«.
264
vroxjU} oomnnnsif pbonoVK tub
Of MAH ?
Iftt. The podtioQ of the lawyer and his
client — the interest of the forma: being in
the litigation of the latter.
2nd. The porition of the patient and his
phjsician — ^tbe interest of the latter being
in the ill health of the former.
drd. The position of the parson and bis
hearers— the interest of the former being in
the sins of the latter.
And 4th. The position of the testator and
legatee — the interest of the ktter being in
the death of the former.
Passing, howeyer, from particular in-
stances, which maj bo either too much
strained, or rendered too elastic, the entire
system of private property presents antago-
nistic aspects to the general development
of the highest commandment of the moral
law, ** Do nnto others as yon- would be done
by." The spirit of selfishness incessantly
feeds upon it. All its conditions concur in
the cnltnre of covetousness and the love
of self-aggrandizement. There are glorious
exceptions, but these are still exceptions —
units amid the mass. As a system, it is
one of selfishness and antagonism. Indi-
ridual is arrayed against individual — ^family
against family. It too often poisons even
those relations of family and kinship which
should be the most sacred and sympathetic
ties of society. Its immoral effects are felt
through every fibre of the social body — re-
laxing the most sacred obligations, severing
the roost sympathetic ties, loosening the
natural bonds of blood, and sapping the very
foundations of fwith and virtue. Look at
the position of the soldier and the trader —
the former for money combating to the hilt
him by whom he had not been injured ; and
the latter, buying cheap and selling dear
the props of life — the daily bread for which
all Christbns are taught to pray. Then
again, mark the immoral anomaly of the
idler surfeiting — the worker starving ; the
non -producer having the produce — ^tfae pro-
ducer lieing deprived of it. Indeed the evils
of private property are felt most in the moral
relations of life. In bankruptcy as well as
in success in trade, there exists alike a moral
oontaminatiotL. A successful tradesman, if
he thinks morally, must know that success
in trade is attended too often by the ruin of
unfortunate rivals, and that thus he is work-
ing with a system contrary to the highett
moral law. Seduction, prostitution ! what
shall we say of tiiese ? It is not to be said
but that cases of pruriency or lust might
arise in a contrary state to the present — for
generations would be require to allay the
present evil development of the passions,
but certainly Communism would not furnish
these with the terrible abettors and acces-
sories with which they are now supplied by
private property. The disgusting marriages
of money, and the indelicate purchases of
pleasure, would certainly not be there; while
here, what sonlless seduction, what loath-
some prostitution, what i|uidde, what infan-
ticide ! In fine, if we analyze avarice, or
misinformed, untutored, barren selfishnc&s,
we shall find it at the root of all the vices;
and private property is the fosterer of
avarice. Love of lucre, and love of lust, arc
alike avarice. As the apostle Paul tells ns,
that bv the law sin came into the world, so
we may say of the present system of private
property, that it is the nurse and nonrisher
of the very sins which it condemns. It is
the Mercury of thieves, tbe tutor of theft;
its Jove visits Danae in a golden shower ; and
without it theft and prostitution, strictly so
called, with many other vices, would have
no existence.
How immoral, then, is such a system !
How sad and sinful must submission to it
be, in the eyes of those who have awakened
to the consciousness of its immoral influ-
ences ! How would they joy to exist under
a system of a contrary tendency I
This system is that of Communism.
Under that system the desire of heritaire
would no longer poison the founts of fili&I
love. Ko Lord Lonsdale would be a tyrant
to all around, terrifying even his creditors
from a demand for thek dues, for fear of
further losses from litigation, and seducin^?
a peasant maiden, whom death even coulJL
not free from him, as he caused her body to
be embalmed, and preserved it in a glass
case, as a satisfaction for his solitaTT selfish-
ness. No poet Cowper, either, weak for tho
world's work, and possessed of a paltn|r
pietism, would mtitk to step into the shoes of
the dead, instead, of labouring to mend his
own.
Among the moral benefits of Communism
may be reckoned the submersion of many
sins now connected with the social st»t«%
such as theft and forgery — and the 8ab>
mersion of many vices thai oonnsctedf Bnch
wocT^ coxxmnssc pkomotb trk happiness op biax ?
265
tt sodBctioo and prosUtntion. Ail the dis-
koeides of tivde, the antagonistic interests
of diflcnot indxriduala in the same depait-
nat of bnssoefla, and the donhtfol positions
of ccrtsin dasaes and professions, in refer-
eare to other portions of society, with all
their inniMnl infinences, would also thus be
absMi^ged*
In the affinnatiTe aspect, the moral
beiKfits of Comnninism cannot be so con-
fiiieDtlj Rgistered, as thej are lari^ely those
tf tiMorj. It is thus that we chieflj dwell
spcB the imnxval influences from which it
*ni] ranore us, as these are known and felt.
TLe Tery remoral of the weeds of vice will
^Qit!? allow to the plants of virtue greater
nm far grvwth. If these hare in special
iastnccs developed themselves in moral
Mioees, even amid the present contrary
€i?cafflstasoes and immoral examples of the
froent social state; surely, in more con-
^esisl oooditiona, with these circumstances
<!<d fxampIeB removed, they will more gene-
nllr ^row in beauty and grace, flowering on
ttrtb and bearing fruit for heaven. Finally,
vitii Communism will come a cessation of
uc«e motives of interest and worldly pru-
<^9ee vhich, for the sake of self-preserva-
t:« in the present state of thinirs, so often
interfere between the kindly wish of the
Wt and the generous offer of the hand.
^Jtoal service will thus also become of
^^ spiritual bignificance. All will require
ta Roeive, and all will have power to give.
*' Silver and gold have I none," said the
apoetle; ** but what I have I will give unto
thee. Bise up and walk." Moitl elevation
is the greatest of earthly gifts. Millionaires
after all cannot monopolize generosity. The
general education refnsed in the plethoric
city will be freely given in the compact
communistery. The immoral influences of
private property removed, with institutions
congenial with Christianity and virtue. Com-
munism would, I believe, gradually elevate
all its participants, and being voluntarily
and pacifically established, in faith and love,
be moral in itself and moral in its means,
aflbrding a s^ere of society the most re-
moved from immoral influence, and the most
consonant with moral development.
In conclusion, then, as morality is to the
actions that which religion is to the senti-
ments— the will of God and the duty of
man ; and as human happiness depends
upon the harmony of creature with creature,
and of creatures with their Creator; and as
Communism in its contrast with private
property would remove from present society
its most immoral influences, and thus form a
sphere superiorly suited for moral develop-
ment ; would we further advocate Communism
as promotive of the happiness of man. The
best of men in the present state have de-
plored the immoral influences in which they
have been placed. The worst in Com-
munism might rejoice in better advantages
than the best have here. G. B.
XEGATITE REPLY.
* T««, Eke an maakfaid, have had dim inapi-
^y^^^itt coafiuMed yeamings, alter your future
'-'lUay : and, Khe all the world from the beftm-
^^ rea hanre tried to realize, by iielf-willed
'30^«aa of your own, what you can only do by
^'^'f lapiraiicii, by Ood'a method, like the
^«0<!cn of Babel iu old dmepyou have said, 'Go
^ I^ aa buttd as a city and a tower, whose top may
'*^A laaio heaven I '—-and Ood has eonfoanded
r^ a« he did them. Bp mittnut, divUiOHt om-
**^, 4md JoUy, yoH art jeatUrtd abroad" —
, im ** Alton Locke.
OoB fliat duty, as one of the openers of
^bs debate^ is to acknowledge the amount
^ learning and ability which our subsequent
^nten have brought to bear upon the qucs-
^* It is true, after all which has been
>>>d, that we see DO cause to alter our orif^nal
*ie«8^ Coommoism still seems to us like a
to flower in the hod, but with a canker
deeply imbedded in its heart; and Com-
munistic bliss appears that which, should
it ever be sought after, will never be at-
tained. We are, however, pleased to see so
much ability, although it be arrayed against
us; and we now pressed briefly to notice tho
several writers, and the arguments they have
adduced.
The affirmative writers range under the
respective signatures of U. M. ; L. J. ;
''Homo"; J. F. ; and G. B. In the
last initials, and also in the style of the
paper contributed, we recognise a writer of
eminence in Communistic matters — <me
whom we havo met with pleasure elsewhere,
and who, if any one can, is capable of showing
us the best side of Communism. We shall
notioe his arguments in their turn.
^6
'WOULD COSQWWiSM TftOMOTB THB HAPPCnttS OF BUIf ?
U. ]!. furniflfaes aome strong arguments
in sapport of the principle of common pro-
perty in liie soil, and in inTentions and die-
coTeries; and farther enjoins the principle
that all men should laboar. We shall not
here stop to dispate any of these points,
inasmuch as they appear to ns to faU wide
of the mark. It was not the object of the
present inquiry to detennine how far Com-
munism might be desirable, or eren just, but
whether the system itself would really con-
duce to mau*s happiness. We see no real
aigument in the paper under oonsideration
reiichiog this point.
The next affirmative writer is L. I.
His object is to show, both on scripture and
historic authority, that the thaorg of Com-
munism is sound, and that to some extent
it has succeeded in practice. He cites in
support of the first allegation the belief
that the apostles were Communists, "and
exemplified their sentiments by forming the
first christian church into a community;"
and in support of the practicability of the
system, adduces several authorities, laying
most stress upon the partial success of the
Moravians. If this writer refers to our
opening paper, he will observe that we made
special exception to persons "imbued with
a high sense of moral and religions rec-
titude." Such persons would be com-
paratively happy under ang circumstances :
but as they unfortunately form only a small
proportion of the human family, we roust
look a little beyond them — they have the
least need to resort to new remedies. The
Moravians and all others who have at all
succeeded in the practical application of
Communism, have been first snd chiefly
actuated by religious zeal; and Communism
has only been made subservient to this end.
The fact that the idea of Communiatie hap-
piness has long been enterimneJy is no proof
that its applicatioD would be sncoeesful. The
alchemists long entertained the idea of the
possibility of transmuting the baser metals
into gold, but we do not find it anthenticaUy
recorded that they ever succeeded in so doing.
" Homo^" on the same side, pftsents us
with a truly doleful picture of our social
position as a great nation. We wish, for
our country's sake, that we could at once
d|eny much that he has asserted. But the
simple fact that our present condition ia
bad, is no proof that Comraunitm would
make iti better. We must see how tUo
remedy is to be administered. ** Homo's"
definition of the principle of Communism,
which seems to us about oorrect, is that it
" seeks to restore the primal rights of mtn-
kind, by abrogating all claims to the posses-
sion of priwUe property ; and to secure the
equal rights of aJl men to develop their
umequal fu^uUies, by estaUiahing a coinma-
nity of goods and a concerted oombinatiob
of effort among all classes of society." The
real point, then, is to see how far the carry*
ing out this principle would be likely to
secure the end in view — namely, the pro-
motion of man's happiness.
Now, we are prepared to assert our f aU
belief that the chief sources of man s hap-
piness (leaving out that resulting purely
from religion, and which cannot th^forc be
affected by any earthly considerations) may
be traced as originating either in the ac-
quirement, by one's own exertions, and in a
&ir and honourable manner, of a comfort-
able competence for the support ^ ourselves
and those dependent upon us; or, fiailing tc
secure such competence, still having the
inward satisfaction of having led a ^ood
moral life— of having, to the beat of oui
ability, and by the cultivation of our besj
faculties, oontributed to the comfort ain!
happiness of our fiellow-creatnres ; — ia I
word, having done all that our position i:
life enabled us to do towards leaving \bi
world better than we found it. The $atii
faction, we say, of having well acquit tc
ourselves in these particulars couslitwK
real happiness, and at the same time teni
to rear up witliin us that true nobleness <
nature which ever has and ever vriU cu^
stitute the real and unmistakable di&tinctlr
between reaUg civOuted and moraUaed being
and those who are not so.
Well, how does this bear upon the quest ii
before us? We shall see. It is truly and wist
said that 8BLF is referred to in the Jirvt \i
of nature. It might be well were it not
but the fact we cannot alter. Where <<
own interests are ooncemedt where onr o^
fiune may beoome extended, or oor o'
booonr advanced, there we sxe ever acti
euii^itie, and determined. Where cmly i
interests of oikere are involved, or oar o
but v«ry remotely, them we are «pt to ,
hibit sloth, neglect, and indtiference, -]
mainspring, seS'-ixtenst, boiog absent.
WOtl.D COMMINIMI I'niiMHTK THE ]IArriNF.J>A OF MA3I ?
2fi7
r,]-.:';.^ irMit.hiikry stands still. If tbis Ih*
-laj's hntnre, how are we to hop-.* fr-r any
ncivi'rsal depiirtnrp from it? A few cc»n-
;:er.'iul minds mt\y for a time suppress tlu-ir
liU'.TidnaliSv, and ainalcnniato info a union
of bnlKTli'K)d. Their religious or moml
q'iiHnrations maj enable them to do so; but
i>» will the ]'rinciple apply to mankinil
ivynilj? for thi« is the point to hi> thought
i. It » nut aulficiont tlut nian\', or evm
ti.e tniijority, are content to dotf their indi-
•i-laajiif. and surrender tlieir self-intrn.>t
t-^ tb? cr.nimon gf^M], Uix>n the simple yet
otvicus principle, tliat
"niiK Ktrkly «hrep iiifectik Mic fl<H;k,
And }>oi<«4in« all tlie rest,"
tbe fer dissentient or non-conformin:: in-
di'iisalis, would most etTectually mjir the
J^iWtijn of th« whole plan, by undemiininir
'kf F<LMs on which alone tlu* structure could
b* BplsM — namely, the cnribtaut unanimity
rf «orT member intere>twl. Wo sef then,
»t»fii;_«le phinre, that the principle em-
Wifil ill. ana lieinf; indeed the very basis ut\
Cjmaumism — the forfeiture of seif-intorost,
(^•f-AccumuIation, self-distinction — i:> con-
inrr to tlie natural impulse and de.sires of
nunkinJ, .ami hence wo discover the cause
rflhc limited pro^rressiou wbich Couimuuisin
^ hitherto madn. and to which we doubt it
K3tt »Qbmit to make in future.
To fc.1T tlmt we arrive at this conclusion
"''•Ibaot 3ome feeling of regret, would be to
Wie oiT own conscience. We h.nve n sym-
P>tliy with all pn-kjccts for the atnelioration of
Jrcaua misery, or in other words, the pn»-
twioo of man's happiness. Thry all |)er-
^J a ^oat good, by directing public and
iD^vidiuI atSeution to the points they ai:n
^ The worhl is, no doubt, indebted to the
inanir^ of the C«)mmuuiht» for many of
^ wJal impnu-emcnts which have aln-a<ly
^■bn place. We wibh, for the world's snkt»,
iMr ihec-rles were more sniteil to practici-.
^< wcerly seize upon every new Com-
^iilic proportion, with the hope of tind-
«?wnwthini: REAI- We ihcrefure eutcn'd
^>a a disca.-<sion of the quention iu these
IK^ with every desire to do the subject
^*tice; and altbou$:h we have very freely
*?«s«d onr vie%r«, we hope, whenever
^^<k3inimum shows itaelf equal to its aims,
^ Buy be pnriuitted to join the ranks of
*^«pp«rters.
^'« «re dqiwiiig ^Kxdily to a close, hut
we should be guilty of au .act of injustice to
jKiss unnoticed tlie learned ariruiner;:s oi
G. ]{., in nveiit num Iters. We a;;ree wiih
his tirjit pri'ixiMtion, that " the ability of
Ctimumnism to prom(»te the happine>s of
man is not necessarily connected with t!:o
(|uo.sti«»n f'i the abstract ripht or wron;; of
private pro|ierty," but thai it has rather t'l
do with " the ability of roiinuon projicrhf to
promote humnu happine.^t." The ix>;nt of
our nriumeut has be^-n to ^how that th«;
priueiple of common pmp«:rty is anta«:i'ui>t!o
to man's happiness: lecau^e that ha])p!nfs5,
as we have shown, seems to arise either
from the success of individual exertii •!:■*,
or an inward consciousness of havinj^ ir.ili-
vidiuilly, and of our own frrp irill^ entUi-
\'ourcNl to serve the prreit cause of hum in
progression. Therefore, if by mloptini; the
principle of common prupi.iiy y>i\ disconra^o
f'Y hlto«eiher banish the in«lu'«'mcut to
individual exertion, from which hapjiiness
proceeds, the rojfult wmx< if just theoj-jK'vite
of that held forth by the Communists.
Such, at h-a>t, is our own belief.
Must iif us will aUo a;;r»'C with O. I>.
in th<» hii;h estimate he forms of the lH*ai!ti-*s
and advantages of tlie relijion of Jesus, but
we may [lause with .•ulvantaj;e before we aro
drawn into an ,'ulmission of the truth of the
pmiHjsirion »o incjeuiously interwoven into
this part of the ar;;ument. We mean, that
(■onuuunisin tends natunillv and almost
necessarily, to direct our minds to think
ujKin, ami our hearts to adopt, this " pure
and undefib'd " reli;L'i'"'n. We have alrea-ly
endeavoured to show, that where reliiiion has
had to do with Communism it has taken the
initiative, and luus unf been the corisequer.ee
of Counnunism. Certaiulv, even in the
present day, we have had instanees ot the
attempt to make relij;ion suUvnient to the
practice of Communism, of a certain class.
We have cause to rejoice that the attempt
has ])r()ved a failure. Conuuuuism to 1^
successful must be ivh'ffwu*^ pure in prin-
ciple, holy iu practice. Then wo n-vert ti>
our first Hrjjnment, that the relijrions elem»nfc
alone woubl be that around which the hap-
piness would irradiate — in which it would
concentrate.
We know G. B. will forgive us for
believing that he rather writes «)f Commu-
nism M he wishes it to be, than as we have
real grounds to believe it toouU be
268
WOULD OOMMITNISai PROMOTE THE HAPPINESS OF UAX ?
How much still remains unsaid ! Yet vrc
THust conclude, and wc would do so with an
extract from tlic beautiful prayer of the
fiiiints, in Festus : —
" Moy all who dwell
On the open earth, or in the hiH abyss,
llowe'er they »iu or tufler. in Uii- uml
jieccive • • • •
The Mercy that is mightier than nil ill.
May all souls love each other in all v oihls
And all conditionA of existence : *
And knowiug others' nature and tlieir onn,
Live in serene delight, con f^n< leithgnod.
Vet earnest/or the lawt and best defrt*.
* * * May kindness and truth.
Wisdom and knowleU^, liberty and p«>«cr,
Virtue and holiness, o ersjiread all orbs.
• • • The world be bliss and love,
And heaven alone be all things ; till at last
The music from all souls redeemed shall rise.
Like a perpetual fountain of pure sound,
Upspringinff^ sparkling in the silvery blue—
From round creation , to thy feet, O God ! *"
C. W., JuiL
AFFIRMATIVE BEPLY.
In the article which I wrote at the opening
of this discussion, I attempted to show that
the earth and all that it produces ought to
be recognised as the common property of
man. In 8upjx)rt of this view I stated that
the earth has an intrinsic value, which has
been 8tam])cd upon it by the Creator, and
that this value was dcsi/^ned fur the uife of
the human family: and hence that any
rental which is charged, upon this value, is a
fraud which is practised upon that i)art of
the connnunity who have to pay it.
It has been intimated, however, that this
charge is not made upon the original value
of the land, but upon the labour that has
been expended upon it: ajid F. F. supplies
us with a very interesting picture of a man
who, Icing wrecked upon an island, sets
about to enclose and cultivate a portion of
the soil, and eventually leaves the fruit of
his labours to be enjoyed by his sou. Wc
say it is an interesting picture : as it regards
the mass of landed property which is held
in the world, it is, unfortunately, a fictitious
picture: for this is not the way in which
the soil has become the property of those
who hold it.
The rental which is charged upon the
fioil does not necessarily represent the labour
which has been bestowed upon it.
IIow much labour has been expended upon
the forest land which to this moment exists
in some parts of our country: land which to
all appearance is as wild as that of any un-
inhabited comitry can well be supposed to
l>e, and yet for this soil tenants who occupy
neighboiuring farms are called upon to pay
runt. It will perhaps be said that if labour
lias not actually been expended upon the
soil, roods have been formed in its neigh-
l)ourhood, and are frcHn time to time kept in
order, aid so the land has been improved in
its position. To this wc reply, tliat as tbe
land is extra-parochial, if roads have been
formed, it has not been at the expense of it«
proprietors, and hence a charge of rental chi
the ground of such accommodation is a
charge upon other people's capital, wliich is
notoriously unjust. But the lords of the
soil would not acknowledge the rental nX
such land to be a charge on tlie labour and
capital of others: it must therefore be a
charge on the intrinsic value of the soiL
But this doctrine of the right of occn-
pancy is a farce. Take the case of our own
country. Suppose we have a proprietor who
holds ninety or a hundred th(iu»and acres by
inheritance in a direct line from the time of
the Conqueror. Wiiose land was it befon
that period ? How did the present pro-
prietor aci|uire hLs right ? From the origiosl
right of occupaucy ? Certainly not— bat
from the sword. His land was by the rigbt
of occupancy the property of the Saxon wbs
held it before him ; and this Saxon hid is
his turn taken it from the Brit(Hi, who u
his day possessed ^ similar right.
Now the question naturally presents ItKUi
Which of these rights of occupancy is tbi
proper right ? It may be said, The oripi**
one. Hut who knows which is 1/ / aod if
wc were in possession of this informatiflBf
where should we look for the proper is*
heritor ? By rendering the land cooBMB
property. Communism avoids this dilemmiT
for it gives the /<e/r, if living, a right afflODS
the rest.
But there is some little ambiguity abonl
this term occupancy. It may mean aa modi
as a man is able to cultivate with hia tfin
hands, or it may mean as much as he is abils
to appropriate to his own tise. If the fgcnMr
be intended, it would certainly take a kog
time yet to occupy the globe; bat if tbo
WOULD rOMMU.NIBX PROMOTE THE HAmXF.M OF MA!f ? 2G9
d men who appropriate land by tons iinprnrcnu'Dts as would be calcalatcU to
ind <rf' acres be rccogiiUed aa occa- | beniTit tlic cominnnity, would ensnre thU.
it is not quite certain whether the Uc would not, indeed, as now, travel lor
not already occupied. It would ' mere personal pleiisurc, or perhaps scientific
rrquire some discernment to di^- i purpo.s'>s; but as the miHsionury of the com-
itetwc-en the right of the lord who munity he would make known' to those who
it a p-irtion of his land, wliich ho are without the bIe.Hsin;;s of Communion,
prc*errest and that of the Imlian the advantaires whieh would accrue froui
;s over a part of an island or ron- their adoptinj; the Communistic btate.
hich he designates his hmtin'j- \ Another ohjettion is that men will not bo
Cf/nalltf capable of benetitin;:; the commu-
objects to Communi.sm on the uity, and hence Jealousies will arise.
hat it would prove a barrier to ull Can any fact tend to prove the oxpedienoy
«, by removing the ♦ireat incentive . of the Communistic state more than thi?—
m, the accumulation of property; th;it all men are not equally iitted to beiiclit
" Would swiety support the ufetn>- the coniniuiiity ? All are not fitted to bo
f traveller, the mechanist, in return hutda ; home are suited fi>r handSi some for
hanre of the discovery of a new fi-et ; ^o^Ie for one place, some for anotlier.
new land, or a new piece of nia- Lahnur, in urder to he w«Il done, and doui*
" to advauta^rc, must bo divided. Each man
the first part of our friend's nbjce- must oceniiy his proper {xisition. Well, one
io not acknowledge the premises, of the advanta;:es of Connnuuism will be
accumulation of prf>pcrty in the that it will funiivh each with his owu pro|H>r
•ni/j're to liih*>ur. Tliat it is an work. In.ttead of a man having to feel his
we do not deny; but there are at way, as now, throu;;h a Ion;; lifetime before
incentives which take the had of he finds his i)lace, and then dyin|; l>efore hin
kiTC of power and the love of famr. work is done, his education will bo care-
cases the accumulation of pmjHrrty fully watched from early youth, the par-
in incentive dimply because it leiuls ticular tendency of his mind marked, and
Now in a Communistic state belHrc he arrives at manhooil he will havo
»t neci'swirily he jjopilions of power, Im en suitably trained for that occujiation i:i
fact of thciv hf\nf^ sueh posit ioua whieh he is to sficnd the prime of his life.
its«'If be a sui^cient etinmlus to But our friend thinks it horrible that the
inai^much as thetfe jiosltions would ' connnunity should have the ccincation of tin'
ible without the aid of wealth. youn;; intrusted to its charj;;e, and that this
hen as to fame. Xo doubt in a ne(-i's>arily imjilies a severance of those ties
Jtic state great deeiis wonhl he of affection which oui:ht to subsist between
nd the report of them tr.insmitted jiarent and rhild. We do not syni|)athizi'
cliaws and otlier gem-rat i<»iis, and with Iilni, for wc do not think that »iueli
«mld still be an incentive to gircnt need to be the c.ise. The position of faucli
a child would certainly not be worao in this
le community wouM not support respect than that of the nuval or military
aomer or the uiechanist. Nor would . olhcer, who at a tender a^o is taken to a
ifal that it (should. As the general jrovemment school. Do children, under &ueli
: labour would be ver}' much cur- eircumstanecs, forget their parents ? or do
>t eztendioK beyond some four or |)arents ceu.se to remcnil>er their child n*n 't
I per day, after which i)orsons would Surely the cireuin.stanee of children bcinpj
fty to emphiy theuuclvcs according projierly educated will in no witsc tend to
aUe. ; les*)en their afiection for tluise who gave
he traveller wonid bo sure to be them bein<r, while it mnst render every suc-
1; the desire to extend the blessings ceeding; ^'.nenition more advance<l,aiid thua.
luusm to other lands and i>i'Ople, ' as one of the results of Communism, pro-
ntrodocCi fram tine to time, such mote the happmess of man. U. M.
270
rOETIC CniTIQUK.
€^ Inrittirs' Ititintt*
rOETlC CRITIQUE.
Spei'ch is silver, but silenoe is gold.— Caeltle.
Tbe office of the poet annouuces itself, with
clear au<l well-defiuea utterance, as immi&lsJuibly
the same in all afres. The vehicle of hb reve.
lations mav be somewhat diflerent, but the divine
truth which he utters is the same — to lead mati to
look upon the beautiAil as the only true and divine
side of life, and to learn that onlr the true is beau-
tiful. He it is who shows us there are no brass
walls between the immortal spirit of man and its
divine Originator ; that the spiritual side of oiv
nature should continually sun itself in the smiles
of God ; that the hallowed jirecinrts of the human
soul should not rudelv be mvaded by any listless
vafrrant, who knoweth not that the footsteps of
Deity are heard, clear and distuict, iu the st- cret
chambers of that spirit
The poet is a man of all times. He is never out
of place. His mission is never doubtful He
knows tilt spiritual wants of his af;e, and to him is
(liven the power to satisfy the craving of a nation
after truth. He, of all men else, is tlie favoured of
the gods. His feet are resting on the earth, while
deep clouds are round hb head — his full glor^*
veiled fKim tlie eyes of grosser men. His Apint
dwells in a land where a " spring eternal makes
Slud the gardeu of the heart" — where he drinks
eep at the fount of light and joy. Amid the
crumbling walls of Time no step is heard more
lirni than hu. And, round about him, in fancy
may we often hear a chorus of spirits, to whom
he Unit gave breath, rising in low, murmuring
htrains like the swelling surge of a distant sea, or
the shrill wurfoling heard by the dying musician-
like a w hisi)er of hope from the sQver clouds above.
Tbe same innate perception, the same spiritual
iiece!»sitv, which causes the musician to pour forth
his soul iu harmonious strains, as though the
very stars were moving "to the concourse of
Kweet sounds," also dictates to the poet the aUer-
fuice of his holy thoughts.
Yet there is another perception, of a somewhat
lower kind, dbtinguished alike by tliese two men,
namely, that law and order are beautiful evcu in
hiniple tilings. The bettt truths should be uttered
in tbe best way ; the sweetest strains conveyed
in a manner pleasing to all. Hence the one has
his \erses, the other hb stave, with its ailjuncts.
These ore his servants, not his masters. These
urc \i hat wc may call the mechanics of poetry and
of music, and, of course, are the most easily repro-
duced. But what is a combination of cogs, gover-
nors, and spindled, without the motive power —
tlie vital force that moves the whole ?
The ease with which tlib mechanism b imitu-
tcil, has brought into existence another class of
writers, generally designated poets, but — ! This
last class, which will be more properly styled
\cn(e-makers than i>oets, certainly, to an extent,
fuliils iff mission. Some there are who serve to
vihile away an hour pleasantly enough; some
uppt-'al to our better feelings with that directness
oi* jiurpoHe ivhich shows a spark of the true man.
Ifnnliv ilunger of this heleroprncous plant is, that
' it so often runs to seed, and becomes husky.
I Musical numbers are pleasant, so there be »omt
meaning in their musie, and not a mere jiiq^e.
But, as w« have said, after all '* they are but tbe
faintest echo of poetry," which u —
" An endless fountain of immortal drink«
Pouring un'.o us from the heaven's bruDk."
Yet, with all our astringent remarks, there iff
now and then, a ver»ilier who, aa he " babbles o'
green fields," does win from us a fidr portiua of
love. He who would lull an unquiet sou! to rest,
and, while he soothes, strives to elevate the bas^
ictg spirit, and gently roune it to action koA nubii
duly-doing, shall not pass unhonourud.
What b sweeter or more entrancing to t red
quiet, yet hearty, spirit, than to seize a voliimr d
ballad-poetry, anil ramble forth into the woods mi
fields, and there, 1^'ing beneath a glorious cantipf
of green leaves, with here and there a glimpaf «
the bright blue sky above, drink deep
'* Of teeming sweets, enkindling sacred fire "?
Perhaps no age was ever so distinguisbei
for xiA writing propensities as the present, yet ft
is not a complete dearth, else it would be vesiy
indeed. The names of Bay ley, Tennyson, Brov»-
ing, Longfellow, and a host of otlters, are too will
known for that The only objection is, that evciy
tyro imapnes it is not enoi^ch to irnfe, bat M
must pnntf hb cfnisions, thus besetting. Uki ■
bevy of importunate beggars, poor, wayfitfiBf
men, who have none too much time, nor too lildi
to do iu it.
And now, having said thus much of poets aii
poetasters, we turn to our own Pamasaianfriea^i
to see what mole-hills or what mounta they bt*t
perched themselves upon. Some, we imigfntf
will find themselves ui>on sand, ere Iong,a]Ml thtf
cverv breath of wind that pasaca will carry aviy *
portion of their p<*destals to mingle with the co»
mun btock of puerilities and grains of uothinfiwM'
First in order comes " The Stan, ' by ^Coa-
discipulus." Thb piece, oar readers will !*•
member, was printed in conjunction with*'Poidi
Critiiiuc, No. II.," vol. ii. page 471 ; bat owia|
to unforeseen circumstances, our remarks tbo^
on were entirely omitted, thus giving ** Gondii-
cipulus" reason to beliere we had dealt att
him somewhat summarily. We read the UbM
Mith some degree of interest, as thry ««*
decidedly the best we had received. One tadlf
phrase there is, namely, ** ramleta aima ; ** tbtrili
too much of the «, which b, at the beat of timfi
not a most delightful sound. There is an inloMt
iu tlie stars which has been felt in all ajffa; that
is a brightness in the rery memory of a aCMiy
night So magical b the influence whidi Ibi^f
have exercised, that men ha%'e imagined tl
linked up with our very destiny. How ralm
holy iH the pure light shed from thdr
eyes of love \ What thoughts of other lands aai
other worlds do the^' bring with their dieeriBf
smiles ! What promises of rest for the weary !
rOKTIC CRITIQUE.
271
■! ihou IriiuiteM all good thiugt—
weary, lo Uir hungry rhccr;
{bifd Um parent* brwMling wiDgs,
r stall to Uie verlabouAHl •(cer.
«ac« about our hearthatouc cliu|{B,
booMhold godi pnilvet of dear,
rooml a* by thy look of reit;
•t Uw child, too, to Um moUicr's
tided of the Htar«, is to be carried
tioii. to the W4iodit and Aelda, there
mix and awe, ou the "beautilul
e of iiiKht."
murky walls of a city for the punt
the " vaulted blue," can ouly be
ed bjr those wbo liaTe a luve for
I the biifclit and happy stars lonk
heir laiire, on tlie earlli beueath,
ck KOine fidkn hyliril to the skies.
iiOM silent nioiiilur«, liiose spiriu
s punt aud holy ivlipdon, seem to
le! 11 ow kindly do they smile
shove! Can we blnme the child
ider and adoration, )«elieves theiu
fanfrels. looking Uirouich tJietlour
ield his luwly couch fiuiii harm ?
iidons of the niiriit — the dreams !
shat ntrengtb tu reMnt temptation
II vLkiuus of a brighter laud,
green turf hides no pave,"
ered in the iii;;ht, from tlie sweet
lice of the stars 7
ill, even uAer Uie lapse of ages of
hat art; those radiant inhabitauta
itr mbtit end creaieil? hate they I
i bcfsiuuiug uf Time ? Will thoAe i
of glory, mhirh li^jht up the ever- j
ox the univei^e — tlie temple of^
b^e«er be exlinguishe<I, leuving I
Will Ihe " ^tar-dii!<«t of God s feet !
in thii^** fifi'bt of ether tlirnuirhoiit
a!;rs ihut have ret to roll? ~ Will '
to souiiil tiieir celestial son^'> — '
J tliey be by the ear uf nioruiik —
■ve of time shall have broken on
mity ?■' Yes. we believe tbt-y will
tinue to ** bathe in rosy light" the
s aod of angels, whore —
*• Lowly reverent,
r throne they bow ; and, to the
location, down they ra^t
Bwore with amaraiiili uinl gi>ld.
■Dth ! a flower wiiirh once
kt by the tree of life.
B ; bat soon, for man's ofRmce,
Bovcd, where first it grew, tliere
>ft, ataading the fount of life,
river of bliss thro' midst of heaven,
ian flowers her amber stream ;
I never fade, the spirits elect
iplendeDt lodis enwreatheil with
triaoda thick thrown oflT, tlie bright
lika a sea of Jaspar shmie, |
I celnnial roses, smiled." |
is of ** Summer Eveninir ■
an enchanting title, and
it brings back remcm-l
brances of the sunny hours of youth, when we
rambled amid the green pastures, makes us wau-
der agaiu beside elear streams aud shady groves,
where we sit in sUeuoe antl in solitude, to listen
U3 the twittering of the birds, the busy hum of
insefts, who sport away their lives— a snromar's
day — in one continual buzx auJ murmur of
deliirbt : we watch the rluar rivulet as it ripples
musically along over the stony bed
" Which ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too ;"
(T. iterhaps, again turn cliildien, and gather the
wild flowers that enamel Ihe green carpet which
we tread ; or wander on to the lone wood which
"Dvendiadowcth
Riemal whispers, glooms, the birth, lift, death,
( >t miwea flowers m heavy |ieaceAilness."
The lines, of which we Kive the first verse, are.
an we sai 1, tolursbly written ; yei. on the whole,
there in a barrviiues.t uf idea, on it evhkncvd in
the fact uf so much U'iug said of the rays of the
sun: —
** Sweet is the hour of eve ! Hnw fkir the scene
Nature revealH ! How beautifkil the west
GluwH in tlie sunshine's mellow beam,
Ere. lur the night, he calmly sinks to rest.
His rarewrllgluiici- — his laHt bright partingray—
llliiiiiiniug the azure arch ot heaven,
>'Hr lairer than at f^ill meridian day
His bi-omH — though llien in powerful splendour
jjiveu."
"Lines to Younir England," " IWnn an Anient
and t >uibursting Spirit of Tweutv," show the pos.
sibility of improvcmenL Thcrv is tnily t-vidence
of an ardent Apirit ; yet wo would wanithe writer
not to let it degenerate into mere linnibast. Ke-
ineuilier, it is the shallow brook wliirh makes the
gn'ate?<t babble. Has ** Heiiricus " ever read
Ki'iitsH I'lXin.H?
Willi n'gsrd t«i the subj«>ct-niatter of tlie "Lim-s
to Viiung England," We cunnot siiN-tt'ribe tu ihr
iKitiijis there vx]>resscd. Fur iusl-.im e, bpeukiu«r
of Greetv. Kome, Tersiia, &c., he »ayn : —
" Their sun derived its source and light below
l/ixtm lielow].
Ours from the Sun of Righteousness above ;
Their pole-siar, war, aiubitious or [nmP uiyust.
Our pulc-stur, justice, huuuur, love of truth." (?)
Indeed .' And thus, in the space of four lines,
do«-s *' Henriciis," in hit own iniuil. eclipse tlie »uii
of (in-CLr, Kume, uiid IVrsia. We wnuld remind
him that he must know very little rf hihtory.
cither iinci'Mit or nii>deni — nuy, cvi-ii xliv. events
uf toiliiy— to draw such a C4incluAion, esiieL-iulIy
as he fuyi "tircece and Koine's grand numu-
iiifiitA •Innved." Has he evi-r l»eeii tu the British
Mu»eum? Has he ever noticed how, in all (quar-
ters of the earth, cofiet even, where oripmals
cannot be pntcurvil, of all that Greece and Kome
I'vcr ]iroiluceil.are eauerly sought after, as though
thi-y weie ]>uiv virKin fi^M^ Has H. ever read
IMa'tiri" hii!» hi- n-nd Huiiier7-works which will
yit outlast the llood of literatun — England's
'*' mt'iitftl inonumeutM." And is it thus tliat these
>muui pliitscs of humanity are to be blotted out
lur ev«>r? Oli, no! The spirit of the bcautiAil
ne%'erH as more gmiiilly expressed than in ancient
Cinoi-e. Ueiievi: us, her memory will netvr kuow
ih'i ay.
And is it true that her light ww derived Ctoui
i
I
.1
I.
■ 1
I!
I!
i
-.1
'I
-^
272
POETIC CBITXQUE.
befowt while onn is derived from aboTe ? The
very thought i« aacrQege. To compare a uation
whose only god ia now gold — whose very doctrines
of exchange are, Let the body live« though the aoul
pcriab :— is it not an acknowledged principle of
English trade that every roan must beat his neigh-
bour out of the markrt if he is to get rich? for that
b now the grand desiiv. When was there an age
when people were so infiuuafeed as at present?
Gold ! gold .' at whatever cost. And is this yeMotc,
feverish glitter the light derived from the Sun of
Righteousness? And have our wars been so
honourable ? What, for instance, was tlie cause
of the Chinese war ? Was ** jn^tire, honour," or
" love of truth," the pole-star of England then 7
If so. what was the meaning of the '* Opivm
Trade" f Has the late war at the Cape been par-
ticularly distinguished for humanity ? Shame !
" Heuncus," to strive, for the sake or rhynie, thus
to ignore the memory of a noble people, whose
<* Souls of the lofty, whose undying names,
Rouse the yoimg bosom sttU to noblest aims."
We trust H. will, ere long, think otherwise of this
land of heroes and of gods. We wish not to un-
derrate the glory of England. It is great truly,
and we love her as our mother earth ; but wc
cannot hear her noble predecessor, the very morn-
ing star of civilization, thus lightly spoken of.
The " Dream of Words," by P. D., we do not
mu(^ admire. There is a hazy indisdnctiiens
about it— we had almost said a fog. The drill of
the piece seems to be, that we should be careful
what words we utter, as they will appear againnt
us at tlie last day in brighter colours than we
may iniojsine. However, the idea is not well
wrought up. The " dream of words " has become
a trorrfy dream. We would recommend to the
notice of P. D. the words of a celebrated poet, of
which we give a/ree translation : —
" He who strives to rise too far.
May bump his head against a star."*
The *' NighUWind's Lesson *' is belter. How-
ever, <* Songs of Heaven" is decidedly the best,
though the reading of the first part of it was
somewhat painful, on account of the inconve-
niently small hand in which it was written. We
would give this as a wamin|; to our " Poetic
Friends," at least,— to let their honied ink be
spread ontin fiair proportions. We give two verses
of" Songs of Heaven:*'
*' The cloudy mists around thy throne,
Trail their garmeiUs dim ;
And the blue ether's springing dome
Is made bv Deity a home
In which we worship him **
** I heard the trailing garments <if the night *' is
by Longfellow : we will not say P. D. has i«een it :
yet we do think he has seen Oocthe's ** Faust,"
from other sentenoes in his verses.
"The vaulted aisles of the airy sky
Echo adoring love ;
We wait the word through space to lly.
And we live on the breaUi of Deity,
While tlie Sanetus rings above.^*
* ** Quod si me lytieas vatfbne inanis,
Sublimi feriam sidera versice."
PcrVapt P. D. will take this into consiifenrtlon.
P. D. has some good thoughts now and then ;
but they require greater care in giving them ex-
pression. We should like to see another attempt,
written with greater care, both from P. D. and
the writer of " Summer Evening ThooghU;"
there is possibiliw of improvement.
Next comes our friend of* Old Seotf Am^ ** again,
with his lines « To Hiss ", BcMler, would
yon like to know her name 7 He calls her " Isa
dear" in the last verse, which we cannot do better
than par^>hrase to J. C. himself, thus : —
But T say (Isa), dear, now, don't you think,
(To be plain without disguise,)
That you some common sense could write.
And cease to poetize 7
If it wonid be saying much to J. C, or give him
an hour of sweeter sleep, we may say we prefer
" Isa dear," as being a little more graoefnl tiisn
" Viotoria," though — (our lady readers will please
place their eroehet-needle over the next sentence)
—neither of the ladies are ** any better than ih«y
should be."
lines ** On an Apple" we do not like at all.
The philosophy is decidedly bad. EJl.S. c«ll»
the apple deceitfhl— seeks to place the blu^ u]H>a
t( for the sin of Eve— and straightway he would
leave off eating i^ples (!).
" And when an apple meets my eye,
A voice says, * Eat not ! * lest'ye'die."
" 7e gods and little fishes ! " what want of taste r
" Eat not " ! ! When an apple meets onr eye,
rosy, streaked, or beautifully plump, a voice cric«.
Eat! eat! and we obey that voice forthwiUi.
HO that "the apple of our eye" becomes at once
;**tho apple of our palate;" and we find. tJuii
I which in the ** mouth was sweet," ** in the belly
is " not " bitter." E . A. S. gives us another pict f
without a title, though we should suppose it i-^
"Hope":—
«' Let sorrowing hearts bear this motto in mind—
A life without ho)ie is a world without sun/' &r.
The construction of this piece is decidedly bed ;
the sentiment we can agree with.
" Last, though not least"— that is, in length —
is a ** Song to the Lark." We would eertttiniv
i give our readera a treat by publishing the wi.i >i
uf the "Lark," but he has such a (ail— oni>
twenty-five verses !
Ver. 1. *' Oh, my companion, thou
Bini of subhmest wing,
Together let us now
Communicably sing."
Good ! That word, " communicably " is «xcpe«{l
ingly fine. £. D. tcepC before, with a beech trrei
Ver. 2. " Of Empyrtan height
Thy song does all inspire ;
And mine is the twilight
Of glimmering desire."
We should suppose, at any rale, the cam^te ic,t
out widi our singer, and he was " left darkling. **
Ver. 3. *'Withyeaminntocsrei»4f,
/ spvmdmyjilekeringjiame;
And ikgr l>x wings disfe$td
Unrisimg. They are lame.''(0
Tes, oar ** glimmering" (riend has again * «pii|
hia netal to its almost length"— "speat** hi
RKPORTH OF MUTUAL IMPKOVKMKNT StKlKTIEJi.
27.3
"liirknuir flune," «Dd his "lax winf^ii di$Bfnd
■•ruuy;' dipped iuu«ftele,iirrh«ii«. "They an*
!»».■ So ift his veiv*. Poiir PvKasiu I " Dmp
t irtf: If, drup uiotiin-."
Vff. 6. (Padcou, gentle nader, only twenty-
&Tf,naBciDber!)
'•Itm a ironn, O Mrrf,
A crovrllin^' worm but here {hearf)
'nettrtr 1 haTc heard
Thy music I rerere."
Teiboald think the bird had no bill when K. D.
*'-M be wti a irorm (which DoTKKly floubta). ur
hi* imMMl would have bcim Mf i/erf imwtediately.
Vtr. 8. "I crawl about a Nparv —
A Kttle spare below —
"HJy twnity.fl»e Temes :)
Though wishftil oft to rnre
With the Bwin-fboteil r«ie. '
E-D.ii too heary for such gyninahtlc exercistis
'*l})Bgind raring.
^f-U. " lido the vault of heu\en
Thou dost liiKh-Ukin Jed {bodied /] go,
With due attention Ki^en
To humbler thought bvluw.**
^<rl3. "Tboudo^tdraewlaKain—
Again mMitendimg M»->(ye«. up tfrain f)
Aif my poor thoufwla which wave
Brtwixt despair and hope."
^"•14. "Perhaps thy theme is not
Of heavenly things alway ;
f^, as {wor Hogg (bruin) has though t,
Thiou sometime tiin'»t thy lay."
^trlT. (Only half this time.)
** Lei OB ainir merrily
Our lore sougs witliont end."
'••flild idfise K. D. nevf-r to sing or weep any
•■e. ftoagh he wiys, •• I ilid c)n>ider myseff
"^ 'vaieiy-headed." Well, never mind; so wus
; the " bci-ch tne wliirh dropitf«l in a leaf." There
is &}-nipatljy in <-onipunionNhip.
Ver. 18. " For I descHd as thou— (diiwn again ! )
'I'd sifk rewanling love — (a whipping I)
Fmni kindn-d souls lielow— (the cook !)
I Who shall my songs approve."
Bless her taste ! We'd rather suffer any amount
; lif griiiding from a barrel organ.
- Ver. 21. '• If none shall say 'tis good— {wliat say
our rvailers?)
If none shall imt/e assent— (it makes us grin !)
Then be my fairest fltMMl
1 Uf" Terse for ever siient"
. So wy we— he will ipend, thU time, to advantage.
I ' Flickering flame " extinguished—" Metal spim
, its utiruMt lengtlt" — ** tlouti of verse for ever
spent. "
" Fare /Aee wi-11, and if for ever—
Siill lor ever"
Stop ! here's ano'.her vffr^e. Yes^just this one. It
is the last feather in the tuil; yes, the twenty.
UfUi :—
•* By the sweet soul of song
Whirh doth inspire my hc«rt^ (nonsense {)
But I will not prolong
This lay. Sweet binl, we part."
Surely our readers must have revelled in the
delighLt of tlie muse. Surely no bird ever sang
so Hivettly before. He deserves acaye ; his percn
he has already found. " ll'nter" he professes to
have plcuty of; Meedi he has none — at least of
genitiH, ur even talent in verse making ; feathers
he huK .some few (which we hope will not be
ruffled), though be has no wings. AU we have
left to say lu our unlledgi-d nougster ii
" Sweet bird, we part."
E.B.
BEPOBTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
Oittuhmm MMlval Imtprovemfnt Society. —
^"ocisi^ heUl iu fixat half yearly meeting on
'iMsf, May ]8ch, when about lun members '•
*•* wads were present and partook of tea, aAer ,
*^ amwiing was held, the Kev. W. O. Lewis
IJ^iifag. The secretary (Mr. H. W. Lnsty) read
'VKpOR, which suted tliat the usual difficulties
2'**tttiBg themselves in the formation of surh
'*'***iw>s had be^i most sucoessftUly o\-ereunie, '.
^l&ceomminee congratulated the members on <
yiwperity which had attended their exertions.
''■jig Uw luIT year discussions had taken place
I* iiBpoitant topies, such m the following:—
"Hm Government any Right to Interfere in
?■• "Is War, under any Cireum-
Jostifiable?" with many others e<[ually
iL Leeturm had been delivered on
intfrestinir auMectSt end a library for cir-
'■hliob had been established for the use of the
After calling u]Hm the members to ,
their cserlkma for the society's go«>d, the i
ate concluded their report, expressing the
due the Divine blessing might attend and
ihiaociflCy. Iniemtingand able speeches |
by Cm Ibllciwbig members on reso- j
luti<>ns prepan'd by the coimuittee: — Messra.
McMichoel, C. Chounon, Baker, Ktwn, Uewson,
U. Choimun, Sleel, and Pye.
Mr. Moore luldrestted iJie meeting in a very
able manner, shuwing the oilvuntages of the age
in wbich we Uve ovtrr all preceding ones, and
pointing out the causes we have for tliankfmiMrss.
Mr. Lang otlired Mnnie vtry pructical remarks,
showing tlie nevehsiiy of nudiing reason iu some
ruses Nubiect to revelation.
The rhHimmn then iKlivere«l an excellent
address, in which he censured those i»erson» who
»eem to believe that all the eriucatiuuol and
Krientific wnnders. &r., of the present day are to
be wholly ascribed ti> the superi«>r wisdom of the
present generation, iuhteod of only looking upon
them as improvioiieuts up«m the plans of our
fbrefatbers, the benefit of wliose experience tnd
counsel we enjoy. He warmly congratulated tlie
society on the sueress which bad attended it, and
a.Mun'd the members of his constant sympathy
and siip)iort.
After a vote of thanks to the chairman the
company separated, highly delighted with the
proceedings of the evenmg.— U. L.
T
274
THB INQUIBBB.
€)ft Srajiiirit
QUESTIONS BEQUIBING ANSWERS.
106. I was told in conversation the other day,
that Monmoutikthire is not in Wales. Mj in-
formant gave me to understand that it used to be,
but, by an agreement made many years ago, once
ererr century a county passes from Wales to
England, and ceases to be considered a portion of
Wales, Monmouthshire being the last that under-
went this change. If any of roar correspondents
can solve this mystery, and give me the par-
ticulars of the agreement (if such there be), they
will confer a great fkvour upon — H. P.
107. Being desirous of studying the French
language, and my means being nUher limited, I
shall feel greatly obliged if any of ^our contri-
butors will kindly give me information as to the
best and ^eapest books for self-instruetion in that
language. A reply in *' The Inquirer" will oblige.
D.J.
108. '* Armend," who is anxious to study the Ger-
man language, would be extremely obliged to any
of your numerous readers who would furnish him
with an account of the methods severally intro-
duced br Bobertson, Lebahu, and Ollendorf, and
any critical remarks thereon.
100. A. Z. has a friend, a farmer, in whose
Ihrmyard is a pump for procuring water for the
cattle. Can any of your numerous correspondents
account foi the fhct that the water which flows firom
it becomes wanner at every stroke of the handle ?
110. Some years ago I met with an anecdote of
the late Paniel U'Connell, M.P., to the following
effect : — ^During a debate in the house, a remark
was made bv a certain *' gallant and honourable
member" which called from the "Liberator" an
impromptu parody of those celebrated lines of
Diyden —
** Three poets in three ^tant ages bom," &o.,
substituting ** colonels "Jfor " poets ; " and, in the
second line, " counties " for ** oountries :" if anv of
your readers would fkvour me with a complete
account of the dreumstanee, with the whole of Uie
parody, I should be particularly obliged. — Iota.
111. Should the fact that a father was once
afflicted with insanity (though be afterwards en-
tirely recovered) be snffleient reason to deter his
son Apom contracting matrimony ? — or would his
doing so involve anj moral eulpabilitv ? A refer-
oioe to any work in which the subject is ably
treated wotud eonfb: an obligation.
ANSWEBS TO QUESTIONS.
67. Idterary Bminenee—how to attain «.—
The literary character is one of the best and noblest
of the present age. To be the thinker for the
people— to be the prime mover of all great agita-
tions— to be the trusted friend, counsellor, and
instructor of the manv— to be the tutor of legisla-
lators, the critic of pnnoes, the arbiter of the dis-
putes of nations and the leader of public opinion,
are attributes which, however glorious and capti-
vating, imply mighty responsibilities. To direct
the current of the world's progress — to occupy the
mountain-places of thought— to watoh the dawn
and advent of new truths and circumstances— to
" find the fUture tram the causes which arise in
each event" — ^to study Uie past, and thence
"To glean
A warning for the fVitnre, so that man
May profit bv his errors, and derive
Ezpenence from his folly " —
to register immortal thoughts upon the ** fleshly
tablets" of men's hearts— to point the pathway in
which humanity should journey in its search aftrr
the aummum bonum — ^to arrest and guide the whirl -
wind passions of the mob, as well as the whimsical
ecoentriealities of the high in place, are under-
taking not lightly to be entered on. The thought-
kin^ u now the sovereign ruler of the people ; to
aspire to that monarchy requires carefhl self-know •
ledge. The mere possession of an ambition to
wear the glory-haloed crown of a nation's grati-
tude— themere effervescence of an ardent yottthful
enthusiasm — die " burning thirst" to benefit one's
fSellow-menMiure and disinterested as it may he —
are not sufficient to support a claim to such a
proud praeminence. True, there are men wbci
hold no such lofty ideal who lodoifr with the pen
— such are not so much literary characters in thd
genuine, as it is the loftiest sense, of the term aa
littenUeun. But to one who '* out of a pure hear
fervently" desires to bless and benefit his comatei
in life's journey — and such an one we pn^sum^
T. G. to be — ^we would humbly advise a calm
serious, and severely-judging self-inquisition r£
garding his mental and moral capam^ to assist b
building up the fhbric of man's hairiness am
knowledge — a diligent perusal of the cVu<
thoughts-men of our own country — a criticall
analytic study of the style of the chief clmssici
in the English language— a steady, perseverini
course of training in composition after thoq
models which approTed themselves most to hi
Own mind in the logic of the inductive aoienc<
and the elucidation of meti^tbysioal truths. Thi
course of sludr would be laiyely aided by tl
reading of Hallam's " literature of Europe," t]
constant use of Webster's Dictionary, Smith
Dictionaries of Ancient Geography, Antiquitid
Biography, and Mythology, M'CuIIoeh's *' l>i
tionary of Commerce," Murray's ** Encycloped
of Geography," and a sood Encyclopedia. T]
acquisition of a knowledge of synooymes so
pseudo-synonymes, paronymous and coxyu^
terms, &o., would be beneficial. From wluit i
have said above, T. G. will perceive that mn Ka
virtually given an answer in the negative to 1
query regarding the cUuaical and /oreij^m U
ffuaget. Our reason is simply this : — Society, ;
tellectually speaking, may be, in a genend p«>i
ofvieWfdivided into three classes — 1st. The lii8L\
classes, who receive an education comprising i
languages mentioned, who use one or otlicr
them as a medium of fiuniliar intercourse, n
who are capable, in consequence, of re<9QW
enjoyment flrom a style largely interfbaed ^
such terms. 2nd. The middle classes, <vv!
although they receive a learned education, fp
circumstances of station are more AT«^%»«fi|
brought hito contact with those who employ
THE mQuntKB.
275
wucalsr, aDd wn eonieqacntly more apUjr
msed in it tfaan any other Ibnn of tpeeeh. 3rd.
Htf knrer rlatwn. who receive no eaaoadon ex-
f^ in tiie OKMber tongnCt whoae philosophy and
wontwna are made np of homely joye, " wise
a«s aid modem inataaoee." It is obTioua, there-
feitdMt an aeetirate Imowladae of the proper oae
^tk vcmacitlar aflhids soflfeiently wide eeope
^ tiic exercise ot a great and glorioas dominion
ioeifCBie whose sceptre is a pen, wielded by an
^nnt and dnoere heart, and an intellect fml ot
'atf tbongfata. — PBILOVATBOe.
CI'. To the qoery put bj T. Q. we are inolfaied
taeve as an anawar a oouditioual negative. There
«te no doobt bat that aknowled^ of the classics
a^teeifcn languages is a great aid to aoeuracy in
it ate of words and eopioosnesa of expression.
B^ihe olgect of the orator, we apprehend, is not
^> ma raeoodile tmths in unerringlj^ aocorate
bnsiee. His great ofllee is to be the mterpretcr
lo Utt people of those troths which the prophet*
■iab— if we may so speak— have elaborated and
OMsttsted : to feel his heart beat ** with a gigan-
trthra^' at the oceorrenee of wrong, and to send
*««h his eoiee in defence of right in such amanner
ttiUn *" tondi and thrill" the hearts of the great
aat, cad to hasten the dawning of
''The mwn of Tmth'a immortal day.'*
f<r fti» poipoaa he mmst make his heart ** the
Mw of the great dead and their great thoaghte ;"
ia<«|h all thia lore moat be directed to the one
Q*«t iSB, fte amelioralion of the present and the
I laaiarf rnent of flte fatore. To this shoold all studies
f ^ MlMsdiaaled— «U energies bent— all thonghts
^vrded. K our optoion be right, the great object
>.' fte onlor in osing language should be, to
Bik* hioMelf understood — to have a style
- Gear as a beandftil transparent skin,
^Itieh never hsdea the blood, yet holds it in.**
T<s hare fUs he mmt be a thorough masto* of the
•*''><BaRc of every-dajr life—the homely, nervous,
uhaas^ houeat, pointed speech of the people.
T^ fiady modulated English, which resembles
** That soft bastard Latin
v^ndi aehs like kissea in a female mouth,
Aad sounds as if it should be writ on satin,
Tub vflliblea that breathe of the sweet south,
Afid i^entle liquids gliding all so pat in,
TLataot a single accent seems uncouth,"
» Bvt ftevehiele which should be chosen for the
intttfAreDee from mind to mind of noble and
^<nK Assists. Neither should we accept, as the
niAKiarof'* theelectricityofthought," a mingled
•■« of "ttipcdont phrases, stolen ft-om every
'iat," bat radier prefer a lexicon largely inter-
"^i vift genuine Saxon. Were we to sketch
!|7»*«pr a coarse of atudy suitable to the case of
' ^-t it would be thia — a caretal study of the
••JW walon, #^., Straflbrd, Selden, Hampden,
•.'wvell, Clifford, Shaftesbury. Lyttletnn, Bolin-
^«e. Oissteffield, Chatham, Mansfield, Burke,
^'^iltt, Tox. PSb, Sheridan, Canuing, Grattan,
"^wrm, Hall, Foater, W.J. Pox, Peel, Cobden,
»i 4 few of the speeches of O'Connell and the
A;U.P<<dinv«ettvea of Disraeli— a perusal of our
•!<kr jrwnirtsta, e. g.. Shakspeare, Ben Jonsou,
„ r, Shirley, Beaimiont and Fletcher
~t^ works of Hooker, Jeremy Taylor, Hobbes,
■«•«, Bimyso, Owen, Feltham, Pope, K«id,
Smith, Palcn^, Uume, Macaulay, Carlyle, Sec.
These should be read dictionary in hand. Crabbe's,
Piatt's, Taylor's, and Whately's Synonymea— all
good works— ought to be regularly consulted, and
Uie predse signification or each difficult word
should be firmly fixed in the mind. The modem
poets, the leading articles in the chief newspapers,
the debates in parliament, &c., should form part of
the curricolinn : while a rigorous system of train-
ing in Logic and Rhetoric oui^t to be diligently
and carefiUIy practised. The natural enthusiasm
of a young mind — ^the love of rirtue for its own
sake— the self-sacrifldlng spirit of a hero must be
cultivated, and then his thoughts will go swiften-
ing throu|;h the worid with wmgs of power.— S.N.
90. Chivalry and the Cnaaaeg. — In your num-
ber for June, your able correspondent, C. W., Jan.,
replies to a querr of J. C. H., relative to the Cru-
sades and Cfaiva&y ; and he says that he is unable
to refer to any work that f*'eats gpeeialty on them.
I therefore would draw y. nr nuerist's attention to
HOI'S " History of the Crusades," which ia gene-
rally considered to be a good and authentic work.
Furtiher, there is the celebrated one of Miohaud,
which took the author upwards of twenty years
to complete, and is admitted to be by Alison and
others a standard authority, and the most elabo-
rate on those stirring events. A translation of
this work is being published by Rontledge and
Co., and two volumes out of three have already
appeared.
With respect to the " History of Chivalry.' Sir
Walter Scott has written on it, and Mr. O. P. R.
James has a volume- specially devoted to the
sul^eet, drawn from Paiaye and other source)*.
This work I have frequently seen on second-hand
book-stalls. These works may suit, perhaps,
J. C. H.— W. L— h.
97. ManehesUir Ef^ineering. — The case of
Jour correspondent, A. B., is beset with some
ttle difficulty, inasmuch as the greatest impedi-
ments to meeting with the situation sought, are,
that he is nineteen years of age, and not being
independent, some remuneration would be re-
quisite in order to sustain bira. Two courses are
open to A. B., and he may avaU himself of either
as convenience suggests. If he is not in imme-
diate want of such a situation as that to which
he refers, he must direct his attention to the ad-
vertisements for such situations in the JlfancArs-
ier Guardian, and should he meet with any which
he thinks similar to the aituation he desires, he can
address the party advertising, etating his caM
fiiUy as to the circumstances in which he is placed,
and notifVing that he is dependent on the rewards
of his labour, &c. If, on the other hand, he
wishes to meet with a situation immediately, theu^
he should advertise himself (and this would be
the mo$t aaii^faetory course be could take, as be
might be capable of meddng a ueltcHon uf the
repliet and of the terms offered, without lo»t ot
time) ; by that means he would secure other ad-
vantages of which he would be deprived by reply-
ing only to advertisement*.
tJnhappilv for those similarly circumstanced
to our ftiend, a revolution has of late years taken
place with regard to situations, and the terms
offered. The advantages offered by mechanics'
and other institutions, of acquiring the rudiments
of a good education, have neoeasarily acted as a
stimulus to the risinfr generation, and himdrcds
of youths living aoquiied the knowledge of read-
276
THE INQUIRER.
ing, writing, and arithmetic, through the medium
reunred to,' then have set out in quest of cituationA
in countimj^oittes, and other mercantile pursuita.
The rc«ult is, that most of them being only ten,
eleven f and ticelve years of age, a very small
salary, if any, is sought ; and as employers
make the best bargains the^ can, they agree
10 take youths in the counting-house at three
and four shillings per week, who have acquired
u knowledge of readinj^, writiiifi^, and arith-
metic, nothing else l>erag required. Hence
those who have received a superior education,
and expect a better remuneration, have to
struggle with those who undertake to do little
less wan themselves, at 2*. per week. In ware-
houses the case is still worse ; a year is the least
lK>ssible time for which youtlis are taken for
nothing ; two up to five years being a very com-
mon term for a person to serve be/ore he receives
11 salary in our Mancliester warehouses. Your
•rorrespondent will see the drift of these remarks.
If he has received a good education, in seeking
for a situation he will find himself combated by
those who have not, and the latter will be taken
if their attainments will enable them to discharge
Uieir duties^ in preference to your correspondent,
who has gnoil abilities, and is consetjuently
qualified to fiU an important and responsible
situation.
The fkct that A. B. has a knowledge of me-
chanics, &c., Ls very much in his favour, and will
be a great recommendation to him. I shall be
glad to assist yoixr correspondent in any way in
my power. If he adopt the last plan I have
pointed out, and woiild communicate with me, I
might (as I rcxide in Manchester) give him some
hints as to his advertisement. If he does not
approve of either of the courses suggested, it Kill
be well for him to write to a mechanical or en-
gineering journal.— J. O. K.
06. The Italian Language. — A. A. is desirous
of commencing the study of Italian. We recom-
mend Tou to purchase a copy of Vergani and Pi-
ranesis Grammar, which contains Exercise**,
Dialogues, Letters, Historical Anecdotes, Idio-
matical Phrases, &o. This, accompanied with a
dictionary, will serve as a pleasing intro<luction
to Italian. To act as your own tutor in compo-
sition, it will be necessarv to purchase l>esidos
some easy Italian book ; for instance, the key to
Mons. Poninet's '' Tesoretto." Put a few sentences
fVt>m this carefully into English. Lay them aside.
Next lesson put your English into Italian, com-
]>are your exercise with (he original, and you will
discover your errors, if anv. The pronunciation
of Italian is very easy ; there are some words,
however, which may prove an obstacle without a
master, and a ftw lessons in pronunciation is
desirable. With a knowledge of Latin you find
Italian much easier. Avoid roanv elementary
books, especially large ones. — M. W.
99. Hnmcpopathy. — H. D. C— Your friends are
most decidedly exceptions to the general order of
IIotnoKmathic patients, if they have ** remarkable
jiale and sickly faces, and we wonder that you
do not assume the position of a/rifiuf , and advice
them to desiittfrom a practice which they find non-
effective or ii\iurious. Those patients who have
come under our notice have manifested symptoms
just the reverse to thove named by you : and the
rase of your friends affortis another instance of the
foOy of thinking that tlie same remedy will be
equally effective in all eases^ when there exists so
great a difference in constitutions, with other
reasons why it should not be so. Cold l>athing is
generally very beneficial, and therefore generally
reconomended ; but there are instauoes in which it
would be the sure precursor of cramp and rheu-
matic pains, and it would there/ore b« madness tc
persist in the practice under such circumstances.
C. W.,Jun.
100. How to Cultivate tks Voice.— In ansve
to the first part of " Damon's " inquiry, I wuuL
recommend him to practise the singing of tha
musical scale upon the following plan. L«
him construct a scale such as this:— Doh.
Let him then, if he has a voice at all, Te.
sing some note, it makes no matter Lab.
whether high or low, but it is better Suh.
low to commence with. He will Fa.
then call that note Do, and proceed He.
up the scale till he reaches its replicate, Uay.
tlte upper Duh. A little practice of Du.
tliis sort will make him perfectly master of tbi
scale. He may then change tlie starting note
making it higher or lower, according to the pitdi
of the previous one, and running up and down
the scale in the same manner. This is certainly
simple enough as an exercise, but simple as it is,
I can promise " Damon " that a month s constant,
but not laborious, practice will greatly iniprpre
the power, fiexibility, and compoaa of bis voter,
and will give him a greatly increased oummiBii
over it. In singing he must keep his cbest vdl
open, and his lungs pressed out agminH his rM* '
and, jNirticularl^ if he has a bass voice, let fain
manage his voice so as to cause the high nslis
to come fh)m the lourer part of his thn)al,aiii (to
low ones fVom tlie upper part This will te •
little dilficult at first, but a little patient prsdiM
will overcome the difficulty ; and, indeed, the
benefit, in the ease and incresuM^ pleasure (^ tke
exercise, will make him think lightly of it, teh
ever so much. " Damon " will also find mMb
information that will answer his purpose in Ca^
wen's '* Grammar of Vocal Music," price ^'^
and in the articles " Music," ** Larynx," M"
" Voice," in the " Penny Cydupvdia."— M.
100. Elocution. — The first step we titB^
recommend " Damon" to take is. to obtain TP"
rells •' Practical Elocutionist " (Vicken,Holy«B-
street. Strand). In this book will be found wt^
useful information of tlie nature required. Vc
would suggest that the inquirer should comoottv
memory several of the pieces contained in Aii
book, and then practice upon tliem until the ^^
has been drilled to the pitch, the style, and the i^
ject of the piece selected. Having succeeded ioci'
or two, let hun try some others, and he will m*
' make improvement We know students in cto*
cution ofien find it extremely inconveuitnt W
practice recitation, or declamation, by reason m
their havinf( no suitable place for tha pmpotr*
This may, m many cases, be remedied. If «•
rcmeml>er righUy, Demosthenes sought the tk-
shore, and there, amidst the howlbig of the wla^
the rolling of the waves, and the oashing of ^
surge, he found meet companionship for the In^
I sistihlc torrent of his own ongovemed eloaMBM^
I and at the same time a rrmedy for soflenmff Ik*
oriinnal harshness of bis voice. We know stodteA
in the same walk who have derived great minm-
tages fVom a similar custom. Let those who km
the opportunity txy the experiment Othcn Biq
THE UTQUIRER.
277
f known lolitudo for the purpose.
buteen would, without doubt, be
■Ujf for a eommencenMnt : ho vrever.
Id adage, " Better late than never,"
anal eameatneu which will now be
ha atudy will toon compeUittte for
ttacea.— C. W.,Ju».
mmd Grtek withottt a M€uUr, —
nd ** Henry'a Firvt Latin Book." by
0 be the most vuitable to commence
Latin. And ai joung people find
( rather perplexing when conimen-
dj of Latin, it would be well to
ale, tliat the accusative invariably
the goTcruing verb, as in the fir»t
(bus murum a-dificaL" Not " Balbus
m," or**murus," as many write, not-
thie role before them. In longer
principal verb, too, will generally
9 end, as in the following ; —
: deeorwn e«t pro patria mori."
eo«u it is for (our) country to die.)
ale precisely similar in the German ;
Mthe will serve a» an example.
lan die, du armt^ Sliind, getlian 7"
hey to thee, thou poor chUd, dune ?)
Ivise L. G. to heep to this little book
e months at len.'«t before proceeding
will naturaliy lead to the '* Sec(»nd
same auUiur, wherein willlie found
t informatiou, especially under the
building.'*
stage we would recommend the
he Latin Grammar, by Me^rs.
Sdinburg^. It will do good service
book.
oauy excellent I^atin Dictionaries,
wans are limited, Entick s Latin
1 the advantage of being both goud
1 KQbner's Greek Delectai, trans-
Llazander Allen, would sen'e as a
lion to Greek. Matthiae's Greek
Bloomfield ; Duncan's Greek Tes-
right's Lexicon, may be purchased
grew has been mode. — M. W.
n-pUue Bookt,— To answer the
ies of '* A Student" on the U8» of
booiks, in detail, wouM occupy con-
I and space. We have relerrrd
their uses in the June number
w Students) ; but we may aild a few
ationa. Vo student sliould enter
ica wilhoat one of tiiese common-
br, in addition to their direct use for
,the method of their use is of service.
1 that they are more likely acruratcly
nything which they have once care-
n. Thus, if the common-place book
ir eztrarts and qvotatioH»,it will be
at if the student go Anther, and de-
10 anderstand everything he reails,
la of study, as to be able, from hii
Icr into his common-place book an
Mnd of the ideas and matter of his
own words, ha will derive a much
Rfa from the process, and his notes
f nude, be lughly valuable for after
• dUBmtey of laying down any spe-
ds sol^ect baa been felt by all writers
thereon : and the reason is obvious, that as the
mental ci4>acities of each student, together with
his particular pursuits, vary, so eaeh, in order to
succeed, must adopt the mettiod most likely to
serve best his own particular end. To give a
simple illustration. If a student, being blessed
with a good memory, have to study wiu another
with a bad memory, both using common-place
books, and riading the same works, the one will
have to make his notes much more ample than th«
other, in order that tliey may be of real service to
him,and compensate for his deficiency. Or, again:
if wo were endeavouring to aoi|Uire extensive
general ktuncUdge—^mhnKing all sulyects fairly
coming within the term— and another student was
desirous of studying theology only, our common-
place book, in order to be h»^uI to ««, must be
un a far more extended soile than his — probably
oij a dilTcrent system altogether. Thu will be
very plainly seen. The more you adapt your
comnion-plaoe book to your own immediate wants
ami circumstances, the mono valuable will you
find it We now confine ourselves exclusively to
an alphabetic arrnttgenuni, as we find it materially
oasiitts us in speedy reference. What is the use of
a large store of facts and experiences, if they are
not n^adily available? The inquiry as to whether
separate books should lie kept for separate studies
is one wbich often occurs. We do not recommend
too great a miiltiplication even of books of reler-
encc. However, where ttie nature of the studies
are entirely distinct, separate books are certainly
advisable. Thus a person studying law and
general literature, would rei|uire a book for each
pur|>use, lo prevent waste of time and confusion of
fiubject. It is quite true^ as " A Student" suggests,
that one book read well is better than twentv care-
lessly reoil. Our own plan is, while reauing a
book, to nuirk carefully such passages as we desire
more particularly to notice in our common-place
book. Having coniplettul our first reading, we
recommence the book, and devote our attention to
the passages marked, extracting, as we proceed,
such portions of tltem as we dc«ire ; adding a short
reference to the title of tlie voliune and the num-
ber of the page. Attention to these small points
is of great service. When the books we rmid are
our owuy a simple reference to the volume ami the
page, under an appropriate heading, is all wo
require. Take two examples selectea at random
— " Woman, her Social una Moral Influence : Mrs.
EUias • Wives of England,' pp. 70, 140, IW." This
is under our letter W ; and the next under the
letter M : " Man — the Hume and Monbuddo's
tlieory of the origin of, i.e., that he spratu( up fh)m
the earth as a vegetable, and only acquire 1 ideas
and s])eech, witli oilier mental endowments, by
virtue of the principle of pro^rei$ive developmeni
implante<l, or rather embo<lied, in his nature:
Bell'H Introil. to Rollins' Arts and Sciences of the
Ancient^,' p 20." We think we have said sufficient
to enable " A Student," and other readers, utonce
to turn their attention to common-place books. We
shall have occasion, in future papers (m Studies
fi>r Law Students, again to touch upon some of
tlie points here referred to. In conclusion, we will
only remark that, as " A Student" seems already
aware that the manrwr of reading is notof secou-
ilary imiiurtajicc to the mutttr, so the manner of
keeping a common-place book is not secondary to
tlie matter witli which it may be filled.
C. W.^Jon.
278
THB TOUKO STUDENT AX1> WBITBR^S A88ISTA2IT.
109. UtUvenity qf London MatneuUUian.^
The matrieulstioii examination takes place onoe
a year, commencing on the first Tuesday in July.
Candidates must have completed their sixteenth
year ; a certificate to this efftet must be trans>
mitted to the registrar at least fourteen days
before the examinaUon be^ns. A fee of two
pounds is paid previous to the examination. If
the candidate flul to pass, the fee is not returned
to him, but he is admissible to any subsequent
examination without char|^ The examination
is conducted by means of printed papers ; but the
examiners are not precluded from putting viv4
voet questions if they thinlc fit. The snlgeets are
as follow:— One Greek and one Latin, selected
one year and a half previously by the senate (for
1854, Homer. "Iliad," book xi,; Sallust," War with
Jugurtha"); Arithmetic. Algebre (as fer as Simple
Equations); the first book of Euclid, Natural
Philosophy, or Chemistry, at the option of the
student : the English * Language, and the Out-
lines of History and Geography. — A.
* After the year 1852, Natural Philosophy and
The only outlay required for matrieolation at
the London University is a fee of two pounds,
which is to be paid to the registrar previous to
commencement of examination. The suluects of
examination are arranged under the following
heads :— Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, Che-
mistry, Classics, the English Langusae, tnd Out-
lines of History and Geography, ft would be
impossible, without encroaching too mudi upon
space, to enter into detidls whicn woald be essen-
tially necessary for a candidate to be acquainted
with. The best piece of advice that I can oS^r
W. G. C, supposing he intends to matriculate,
is to obtain the *' London University Calendar "
fbr 1859, price 3«., published by Taylor and Wal-
ton. Upper Gower-street, in which he will find
Aill information with regard to the reouired course .
and will also have an opportunity of seeing, from
the examination papers of last year, the naiurt
of the questions proposed.
Am Umdkhobaouatb.
Chemistry, as well as Translation from the
French or the German Languages,wiUbe required.
€|ii ^nung Ittthnt ani Wt&ti'i %wMi.
LOGIC CLASS.
Bxtrtitt on the Art qf ReaMoMng.'—No. XVII.
1. What is Truth ?
2. Define, and distinguish between, the terms
Truth, ExTor, Falsity, Falsehood, Fallacy, and
Sophism.
3. What are the chief kinds of Error-sources ?
4. Explahi what is meant by Intellectual
Error-sources.
5. Explain what is meant by Volitionary
Error-sources?
6. What is the Aristotelic Classification of
Fallacies, with examples f
7. Explain J. S. Mill's Synoptic Table of
Fallacies.
8. How many varieties of pure Logical Fallacies
are there t Exemplify them.
9. How may pure Logical Fallades be detected ?
GRAMMAR ClJlSS.
Exerei$a in Orammar.—No. VI.
1. Arranjife the nouns of the following sentences
in a fonn like that given : —
The Ikther loves his children. The house is
guarded by the dojr. The " Fanner's Boy " was
written by Bloomfield. Bunyan wrote the " Pil.
grim's Progress." Bats* wiikn contain no fea-
thers. Moses' books are five in number. Crom-
well's actions have been much miarenresentpd.
St. Jamea'a Church was struck by lif^tning.
Englishmen will new forget Wellington's vi'o
tones. The wairior has iMen honoured morvi
than he deserves — the l^jislator less. The history
of Casar's wan was written by himaelt The ma»^
ter's interests are studied by the servant St,
Helena's isle was Napoleon's prison. The boy'i
books are torn. The honour of Britain is dear u
her sons. A ^rood book is the author's life-bloodi
Hannibal's wintering in Capua drove him troa
Italy. The monaroh^s tyranny effected his rain
We read the doctor's book, and apinvve of iti
principles.
Breathes there a man with sool so dead«
Who never to himself hath a^d.
This is my own, my native land ;
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned.
As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand ?
NOUNS.
Pbopkr.
Common.
Nominative (and Objective).
Possessive.
Nominative (and Ot^ective).
Possessive.
'
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— V.
Arithmetic and Algebra.
QuetHon 17. The least common multiple of 14,
20. and 48 = 1680 ; therefore the tr«vv>n«>rR 1
all meet again at the same plaoe in lf»0 di
(Vom Christmas^ay, 1851; which, allowine
leap-year in 1853 and 2 866, will fall on July 3
1856. '
THB TOUNO STUDSHT AUD WBTTER's ASSISTANT.
279
Far, Dee; 19, IS5I , to Dee. 29, 1658
]>ee. 25. 18S3, to Dee. 3ft, 1893
DccS5,]f^, CoDeo.85,18M
Dee. 85, 1854, to Dee. S5, 185»
De& S5, 1856, to Dec. 31, 1855
Jeiu, 1850
Feb., 1856
March, 1856
April, 1856
May, 1856
Jane, 1896
July, 1896
B 366 days.
::965
»365
:>305
= 6
B 31
» 29
s 31
z 30
= 31
- 30
-. 31
1660
w<M. July 3l8t, 1B56. C. D. S.
QmestUm 18. Here the number of cubic feet in
die Itanp is 11071-7909 x 10934. nnmber of oz.
a « caUe foot = lIOAiO;237 9668, veiirht in oz.
- £jH0 = 3254- 1919 tons weight. Then the
t line of 1 ox. being je'275, which x by 10534,
Basxjber of oz. in a cubic foot =s X9896-85, value
•f ] oibkAiot.
.-. Taloe of whole lump = 3896-85 x 11071*7902
=i^3/r73^15-44087.— ^jM. R, j.
QsettiM 19. Let x^, and x equal A, B, and C's
«hara reapectiTely. we hare then, from the con-
Sa-Ka of the question, the following equations,
STQinng three unknown quantities.
. + ''-"J-«jeioo (I)
y + ^-^ = £ioo (2)
*+^-i-? = jeioo (3)
Bf deam^ these equations effractions, we get
u« toUowing: —
2» + y + z = £200 (1)
* + 3y + X = iSOO (2)
r + y + 4 * = ;e400 (3)
Tb«a itfitraeting (1) from (3) we set
- * + 2y = jeiOO (4)
^JbysaMracling(3)from(I) x 4 we get
7x -f 3y == je400 (5)
Heie we have two equations, (4) and (5), in-
nAr^ mly two unknown quantities, x andf y.
B J uinog these in the usual way, we find that
X =. J29 8s. 2ltd.
^ y s jeM 14*. I^.
Tfcea nbstita^g in (1) these values for x and
y, *e en find the value of x by subtracting their
'*'fflftT)««00,(via.)jr=^300-£123 lOt. 7^^-
Fnm a) then it appears that £89 8s. U$d.,
^ 14*. l^^ and £70 9s. 4^., aie the values
«r, y, and ,, respectively.
. If- ihsB, these be the true values of the letters,
It ^>ilows ttiat if we substitute these values for
^ I«oe» them«elves in (1), (2), and (3), the sum
'• oar valoes wiU equal that of the letters in
«^ nespecdvely.
tt^ that £58 16»- b^. + £64 14«. IJW. +
^ St. 4t|d. should = £200.
Aal that £29 6ff. 2^. + £194 2». 4Jui. +
^ ^ 4Hd. should = £300. ^^
A-^.i*** «9 8f. 2H<i. + £ei 14j. 1^. +
£^A \7b. ^^d. should " £400. "^
»n»e this i» the case, x = £89 B». Utd.: y =
^ 14s. 1^; wd z = £76 9s. ^^d.
QueitUm 80.
X -y =12
x«-y«=336
Since x*-y*=x+yxx-y=12xx+y
.-. ]8xx+ys=336
andx-f-y s 3:16s 88
~12
butx-y = 12
by addition 2x
and X
= 40
and by subtraction 2y = 16
.-. y = - = 8
J
R.M.
<?eoifie<ry.
Quettion 10. (a) The soltdity of a sphere is
equal to the cube of the diameter multiplied by
'5836; hence dividing the solidity by -5236, and
extracting the cube root of the quotient, will give
the diameter.
Therefore diameter
= C/?
llu71j7WW
•5836
= 0^
^ = V2ll45-51i2i3=27-65
iP). The number of ounces in one cubic foot
B 10-534x1000-10534
The value of do., do., s 10534 x -275 ==2896-45
Hence side of cube
• '760,000,000 .,_ _ _
^9^:85 = V262354 883=64-01
J • J. M«
Mechanics,
Quettitm 9. The contents of the tank s 80 x 18
X 9 = 2160 feet, and this being divided by 34, the
area of the section of the well gives 90 feet, the
difference in the level of its water at the com-
mencement and end of the operation.
Hence 45 -f 30 + 4*5 = 85-5 = the distance
between the middle of the tank and the mean
level of the water in the well, which, being mul'
tiplied by the weight of the volume of water in
the tank, gives the units of work required to fill
it; this being divided by 33000x6, the units of
woric performed by the engine per minute will
give the time required.
62 5 X 2160 X 85-5 ,„ ^. . ,
- 58895 mmutes.
33000 X 6
J. K. L.
QUESTIONS FOR SOLUTION.— VII.
Arithmelie and Algebra.
94. The train A leaves London at the same
time as the train B leaves Bristol, on the Great
Western BaUway; but the train B arrives in
London 5 hottfs, and A in Bristol 9 hours after
they meet How long was each upon the road ?
35. I bought a certain number of sheep for
£31 10«. Now, had there been three less for the
money, they would have cost me 5s. a head more.
How many did I buy ?
36. At what time between the hours of five and
six will the hour atid minute hands be together?
27. Given x+y=a4, andx"-y"=96,to find x
andy.
Geometry.
12. A circular monnd, whose radius is 90 feet,
is surrounded by a moat 40 feet wide. Whet is
the area of the moat 7
280
KOnCES OF BOOKS.
13. The (treatmt poMible •phera is to b« nitde
oat of a oabio block of freestone, whose side is 4*5
feet Required its superfidai aud solid oouient.
Meehomea,
19. A train of 50 tons moves at the nie of 30
mUes per hour on the level rail ; the resistance of
Motion upon the rail is 8 lb. per ton, the resis-
tanoe of the atmosphere 33 lb. on the whole train
when it mores at the rate of 10 miles per hour.
The diameter of the driving whed 0 feet, the sru
of the piston 100 inohes, the length of the fttroke
I'd ftet, the resietanee due to the blMtpipe i»7S
lb. per inch of the piston, when the speed oAhe
train is 10 miles per hour. It is required to
determine the pressure of the steam, the evapo-
ration of the boiler, and the number of buvheli
of coals neoessary for a jonmeyof ISO miles, rap-
posing 1 bushel will evaporate 11*5 cubic feet of
water.
Mfs&ai if ^aoks.
Old Siahtem'Fytif-One ; a TaU for any Hay
in, 1852. By the AuOior of " Pleasant Psges."
London : Houlston and Stoneman.
This is designed as the first of a series of jear
books for young people. The editor of " Pleasant
Pages" represents Minself as inviting to his
house a pleasant paity of young folks on the last
evening of the old year. In toe course of the
entertamment^ and by phautasmagorie means, an
old man is introduced, who turns out to be
Eightefu-Fifty-One, who has only two boors to
live ! He ofl'ers to tell the eompaay of the won-
derAiI things he has seen— an offer which is gladly
accepted ; and he then begfais to talk of intdleo-
tual, sanitary, social, temperance, peace, anti-
slavery, and national progress; and goes on to
speak of the Great £zhibitioo, and to chat about
general news, good and bad, home and foreign.
One, at least, of his juvelttle auditors appears to
have thought that he was attempting too much,
and we are decidedly of his opinion. Although
we admire the plan of the book, and acknowledge
the general interest thrown around many of the
subjects, we believe that that interest would have
been much stronger had fewer topics been touched
upon, or greater space secured to each. We need
not remind Mr. Newoombe, nor any weil^uali-
fied instructor, that the surest way to gain the
attention of the young Is to amplify and simplify,
not jo generalize or enumerate, and therefore we
reconunend him to increase the size of his next
volume, or to reduce the range of his imbjeela.
In the meantime, we hope the present little work
will secure an immense sale, for nothing but this
can make it remunerative, seeing that it is got up
in a superior style, beautiftUly oouud, and sold
for one sAt/{tfiy. We need scarcely eay that we
look with interest upon Mr. Newcombe's various
undertakings for the benefit of the young, aud
believe that he deserves the support of all who
wish
" To try the rivalry of arts,
Of science, learning, flreedom, fame —
To try who first shall light the world
With Charity's divinesl flame."
A Jlfanuml f^ LogiCf DedueHve and Indtictive.
By H . H . M unro. Loudon : Hamilton, Adams,
and Co.
In our January number we reviewed " Logic
for the Million," and expressed our conviction
Ibat it, *' as a sequel to the study of any of the
more rigid and abstract works on the subject,
would be of much service." The work now before
us is ezactlv such an one. It is a regularly
digested and philosophic treatise on Logic, evi-
dently the production of an acute mind, and
highly deserving of the attention of the student.
While inclined to advocate ihe/omuU view of the
science, the author does not feel wartantpd, it
seems, to depart AtMn the usual method of writing
on the sulyect, so ter as the f\tll adoption of that
theory would demand. He does not profess to
develop and methodize new views, but to exhibit
in a clear, succinct, methodical manner, the most
useflil poitioDS of the already-reodved doctrinn
of logical science. Some of the preliminaTT
topics of discussion, e.y..*' Tems,'*** Abstractiou,
and " Generalization;^ the " Predioablcs," &c.
are excellently conducted, while some of the more
intricate '* tabular forms " of other lofgicians hare
been reconstructed and simplified. The Syllo-
gistic examples, too, are more various snd le^s
puerile than tho«e generally seen in books of the
kind. The style is plain, perspicuous, and con-
cise, and the work, as a whole, is well calculated
to fulfil the author's purpose, viz., ** to facilitate
an earlier and easier acquaintance with the sctenc<
than is at present attainable." The foUowinii
" Table of Opposition," which we prefer to tba;
of WhalBly, we extract, for the behoof of out
" Logic puj^ila:"—
The subject of Opposition, it will be mnen
bered, was disooased in *' Tha Art of Bmsfrtiinj
No. XIII."
o
CO
O
o
Subaltern
' between
A. 3c I.
between
LK.&O.
A.
N. True.
I. False.
, C. Falae.
E.
N. False.
1. True.
C. False.
Contrary
f A.
/between) N. Tme.
i A. & X. 1 I. False.
\ C. False.
Suh^ntnrr {?^
I.
N. True.
I. False.
,C. True,
Contradictory •
( A.
rbetweenj N. True.
A.& O.Il Faiae.
IC FfOae.
( E.
between N. False.
^E. & I.' I. True.
Ic.
Ejittorit.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "THS AST OF BEASOKINO.
Na VIII.— ON STYLE.
Hateio, in a |»FeTioaB paper, defined the sense in which the word " Stjio " is to be
csderstdod, and indicated some of the essential pre-reqoisites for the formation of an
aecanie, pletsing, and viTid method of thonght-ntterance ; having snown that extensive
kiwvledge, sotmd jodgment, mental cnltnre, precision of thought, and delicacj of taste are
tlie finmdations of all excellence in speaking or writing; we shall now proceed to present
«3r readers with a aeries of practical instmctions in the nse of Language.
This b bj no means so easj a task as many may be apt to imagine. It is difficult to
nduee to formnlss the nice distinctions which the keen-seeing eye of the critic perceives
as existiog between the proper and the incorrect. Some even believe that there is an
asQnctire acuteness in certain of the mental powers which enables certain men to fill the
flfice of critic, and to become the umpires of literary taste. Bat whether this be the fact
eroot, it seems to ua quite evident that the assiduous culture of the finer perceptivities —
thow which coDcem themselves with the fitting — must tend to the evoking of a higher
degree of sensibility, and a greater nicety of skill in the use of words, than the leaving of
tkm uncnltored. The fruit of the wild vine is scarcely so delicious as the grape-clusters
fi£ csie that has been carefully nurtured. Let us not, however, be misunderstood as
asecrtisg that Genius can be manufactured, or that any system of rules, however diligently
ocaed or laboriously practised, will supersede the necessity of original thought. These
i^ies wi)], of oonrse, concentrate the faculties, acumenate the powers, and fit them for
euztioB; but they cannot avert the pangs of thought-birth. *' Bules are designed to check
a leaiaa that is irr^ular, not to damp the ardour of that genius which takes wing : their
<^ use b to prevent those passages which are truly eloquent from being debased by
«(Ws in which negligence or bad taste prevails."* *' It is not for the sake of enabling
BQ to produce beauties, but of qualifying them to avoid faultiness of style, that the rules
^ the great maatexB have been instituted. Nature forms men of genius as she forms
{■CMS metals in the bowels of the earth, rough, irregular, and compounded with other
^"^aacea. Art is of no other service to genius than it is to these metals : it adds nothing
t& their snbatance, it only s^arates what is foreign, and displays in full perfection the
^"i&Qiae work of Kature.**t We believe that Style and Thought are reactive—that great
i" thonghti will not suffer themselves to be caparisoned to an unworthy
that ^gance of composition cannot fitly be employed on stale and little ideas.
ITe caoDot nse "the birds of Jove" to run the messages of the inferior gods, nor can we
-aok Gomplsioently upon
" The ocean into tetDpest tossed,
To wall a Teather or to drown a fl j."
-AHhoi^li, however, valuable ideas, just and clear conceptions of a subject, a vivid
* S'Akmberi't " Seflecdons on Eloquence."
f D'Alembett's *' Discoune before the Fren:;h Academ;."
z
282 RHETORIC. — SO. VIII.
imagination, readj associations, elevated sentiments, and a well-cultored taste, are decided
essential to good composition, it does not follow that unj man possessed of these qnalifio
lions is capable of so discoursing or writing as to ensure success. He must Lave,
addition, acute powers of discrimination— selection, arrangement, combination, and pr^
tical readiness — an accurate knowledge of language, skill in its use, choIcenes:i
expression, and copiousness of vocabulary. Only by a union of sucb qualifications, natia. >
and acquired, wrought up into activity, energy, and power, and rendered capable, by jiati ^^
and continuous culture and exercise, of giving adequate expression to the treasured wImL ^
of his soul, can he become one of those
'< Who sbrd great thoughts
As easily as an oak loovenetli its golden leaves
lu kindly largess to the soil it gruw on —
Whose rich, dark, vr^ thoughts, sunned o'er irith love.
Flourish around the stems of their deathless names —
Whose names are ever on tlie world's broad tongue,
Like sound upon tlie fUling of a force—
Whose words, if winged, are with angels' wings —
Who play upon tlie h«art as on a harp.
And make our eyes bright at> we speak «>f them —
Whose hearts have a look southwards, and are open
To the whole noon of Nature."
We shall make no apology for the minuteness and apparent triviality of those directions
irhich we shall find it necessary to give. '* The rudiments of every art and science exhibit,
at first, to the learner, the appearance of littleness and insignificance. And it is I7
attending to such reflections as to a superficial observer would appear minute and byper-
critical, that language must be improved and knowledge perfected."* ** Of all the worb
of man. Language is the most enduring, and partakes the most of eternity. And as oor
language, so far as thought can project itself into the future, seems likely to be coevl
(co-equal in existence?) with the world, and to spread vastly beyond even its prwfBt
immeasurable limits, there cannot easily be a nobler object of ambition than to purify tf"
better it."f Neither can we consider ourselves necessitated to excuse oareelves for tbevtfk
amount of exertion which such a system of cultivation as we shall advise must entail e0
the diligent student. "" Whenever labour implies the exertion of thought, it does good, it
least to the strong; when the saving of labour is a saving of thought, it enfeebles. 1^
mind, like the body, is strengthened by hard exercise."J Now, we must confess that "tit
attainment of a correct and elegant style is an object which demands appKcatioo ■■■
labour. If any imagine they can catch it merely by the ear, or acquire it by the rilgl^
perusal of some of our good authors, they will find themselves much disappointed. Tht
many errors even in point of granunar, the many offipnces against purity of langnigtr
which are committed by writers who are far from being contemptible, demonstrate thit
ft care/id study of the language is requisite in all who aim at writing it |HX>perly.^
Style, «o far as its mere mechanism is concerned, may, for convenience of treatment, bt
considered as divided into two parts — Ist^ Diction; 2nd, Structure; the anpreme ciDODt
• CampbeU's *' Philosophy of Rhetoric," p. 344. f " Philological Museum," vol. {. p. or»5.
/ "Philological Museum," vol. I p. 630. | Blair's " Lue:urds on Rhetarie," lect ix. vol. i. p. 311.
KIIETORIC. — NO. viir. 28S
€ which are— of tbe former. Speak and write uvrds according to the signijication which
Crit^ bebmgt to each; of tbe latter, Observe the relations which stihsist aniongst ideatf
imd represent these relations by s»cft concatenations of vocables, such variations in the
nihctiimto/teordsjand such a use qfjxtrticleSy as are atstonutnj in the writings of the best
^ittian in that language. We shall ccinfine our attention for the present to the elucidatioa
-'f thi roles which are applicable to Diction.
Tltt qualities of Diction are — I. Purity; II. Simplicity; III. Tropricty; and, IV. Pre-
cision.
I. Parity of Diction is the emplo}'ment of snch words and plirases exclusively, as,
according to the bedt authorities, really belong to the porticnl'ir knguage in which we
^Peak or write.
IL SbipUcity of Diction consists in the ute of sncli words and phrases as arc most
^cqnotlj and commonly employed, such as are easily comprehended, and level to tlie
*^P«d^ of ordinary men.
UL Propriety of Diction is the employment of words in snch a manner as to preserve
^ precise signification whieh **the best usage" has attached to each of them, as well as
^ caivfally discriminating the nicer and more delicate shades of meaning whicb they
^oin in peculiar collocations.
IV. Preciaitm of Diction consists in giving exact expression to each particular thought
^ tile most unambignoufl manner, so as to set misconception, as far as possible, at defiance
""^oijiltijing words in rigidly-defined senses with unswerving uniformity and undeviating
''It is not enough that men have ideas—determined ideas — for which they make these
^ (vocds) stand ; but they must also take care to apply their words, as near as'may
KWaek ideas as common use has annexed them to. For words — especially of lan-
PU{»dready framed — being no man's private possession, but tlie common measure of
cvacnt and oommunication, it is not for any one, at pleasure, to change the stamp they
*** caicBt in, nor alter the ideas to which they are afllxed; or at least, when there is a
''iMitf tp do so, he is bound to give notice of it. Men's intentions in speaking are, or
It liMt iho«ld be, to be understood, which cannot be without frequent explanations,
"^■1^ and other the like incommodious interruptions where men do not follow common
^ Propieiy of speech is that which gives our thoughts entrance into other men's
'■■diirith the greatest ease and advantage, and therefore deserves some part of our care
^ ttnly, e^edally in the names of moral terms. The proper use and signification of
' ^ is best to be learned from those who, in their writings and discourses, appear to
\ **!* M the eleanst notions and applied to them their terms with the exactest choice
^ iteMiL This way of using a man's words according to tbe propriety of the language,
^^|il it have not always the good fortune to be understood, yet most commonly leaves
til Unn ef it on him who is so unskilful in the language he speaks as not to be able to
Badoitand it when made use of as it ought to be."^
"isqgiage is eitahlished by reason, antiquity, authority, and custom. Of reason, the
ckirf poBcd is analogy, bat sometimes etymology. Its antiquity recommends itself to us
* LodKc's''XsMj Ceocenifaig Homau Undentan^g " book iii. chop. 11. «ec. Ix.
^^■i .;M.. • .'i:ic.--N«>. \ II!.
I>jra ccrLaiu air ol' iaajr.>;y, aii«i i i.ii^^ht aliin'sl bay reverential tccliu^-. Its autln'rily is ',
be lODght in hiatoriaoa and orators; the neeessitiee of metre often ezoues the poet. Wher jm
the judgment and example of the great masten of eloquence are accepted as rales, erei^
error Menu right to those who offend in instating them. Bat the common nsage of th ^
most polite writers and speakers is the most certain guide in the use of words; for speedr _]
like monej, when it receives the public btamp, should attain a currencj. * * * I, theft* ■_=
fore, look upon the general practice of the learned and polite as the u^age of a lan«:ua>r
just as the j^neral conduct of the virtuous and fashionable is to be regarded as t)
etiquette of life."*
How, then, shall we most easily and accurately attain this knowledjcje of '*the bcr^
nsage"? To understand this fully wo must remember — 1st. That wonls are the ieps> <
sentatives or s3rmbols of thought, and serve to call up into the mind the particular ideaje. ^,
which they arc the mental signs; 2nd. That there is no natural, necessary, and cssent x a/
connexion between these *'sij^us and the things signified thereby;" 3n1. That at differ^:.!
periods diflerent words are e mplorc<l in the same lan^unge to symbolixc the selfsame iSrs .
and, 4th. That conventional agreement is tlint by which the peculiar si^ification of eaci
term is adhibited to it, and to it only.
Xow, bearing tliese thinprs in mind, we are led to inquire, with even gre;iter perplesiJy
and anxiety, how shall we attain a knowledge of the best usage? We bhall cspla.'i.
Certain gentlemen of reputation have employed themselves in carefully' imTstigating tli^
signification of words, weighing in their minds the 2>cciiliar use made of tlie word by the
best authors and speakers — ^thc etymological connexions which it has with others — *^-^
genera] analogy of the language and the necessities of tlie human mind. The results ot
these studies they liavc stored up in voluminous though useful works for our advantap**
When, therefore, w»i are dusirous of leaniing the usagp of a language, we must consult th'*
lexicograplicrs and discover the resnlt of their laborious toil. In general this will yieU i^^
the information sought, although ^' Language is in its very nature inadequate, nnibigTiocr<
liable to infinite abuse, even from negligence, and so liable to it from design," that .?»•''*
caution and care arc neci'ssaiy in order to make a proper use of this assistance; wUic,a'
the same time, the progress of refinement, the desire for signiflcnnt and harmonioos^Mri^t
and the increased luxuriance of ta^te which an advanced civilitution produces, ctasf *
constant fluctuation in the use of words. No instructions, it is obvious, can adequttd?'
guard us against minor errors; but the following general rules may, and we hope irill, b«
serviceable in teaching the greater part of the errors in Diction which it is advisable t^'
avoid.
L PcRmr. — 1st. Unless there be some special reason for their nee, all obsoktf •<'
antiquated expressions ought to be carefully avoided. The following are examples of th^
kind of words meant: — Fictions, timidous, greatening, beKkely, cmciatv, nncMlon*
czscribe, ooagmentation, eaailiest, mannduction, phirions, conmientitions, avoIatioB, fiuil-
lout, mtilate, negoce, scception, nffroutiveness, accooglntinatioD, 5io.
Snd. Strange or unanthoritcd vocables ought to be aa soldom employed ms ponible; never
without a special rt-ason. Examples of such words we subjoin ^—£aet^MtiT•, intniti«e,
* QuiuetillUn's ** Institutes."
niiBTORio — iro. \Tii. 285
!
nnktupable, wide-awake-itj, go-awayness, pockctually, bctweenity, fMLiondom, connexitj,
absqaatolatc, ftabber^gas-tuality, plumptLtude, adorement, jadgmatical, corroiirisity,
magnetJMliied, &c.
3nL The mmecessary introdaction of forcipi pbmscs or idioms, and poetical forms of
expmioo, are repreiicnsibic: e, g^ Delicatesse, froichour, delassemcnt, la famif^lia,
tU&, demi-toilettei chevachief dos notrw, habitu6s, odcnr; "It sor^-es to an excellent
pjupwe;" " All that joatU han of amiable;" " The night, now fjir adranced, was brilliantly
bright with the radiance of lunar and astral oftulgencc;" "The fair moon, taking her
iwctamal promenade along the cloudless azure and stdlar canopy of heaven, walked in all
^ respleDdeucj of her highest and brightest glory," &c.
IL Snfpucrrr. — Ist. Words unnecessarily complex or abstruse, unless absolutely
i«Cttiiry, oi^ht not to be used: c. /y., C'onfiguraliou for/(/«re, deleterious for httrtfnl
^ uJHn'oiw, electrotyping for ImpttMlwj^ &c,
M Technical terms ought not to be unnecessarily introduced : e. fj.^ Velocity for
*i«d^ iafioitesimal for vtry small^ specific gravity for meif/ht^ density fur thickness^ Scc^
3nL" Nothing can contribute more to enliven expression than that all tho words
Gplojed be as particular and determinate in tlicir signification as will suit with the nature
^nope of the discourse. The more general the tnmis are the fainter Is the picture, the
^"fin^jcdal they are it is the brighter."*
IIL PsoPRiETT. — 1st. Equivocal or ambiguous expre." scions arc Ciircfully to be guarded
"Ht aimed at nothing less tlian the crown;" meaning, cither "nothing was loss aimed
M br him than the crowu," or " nothing inferior to the crown was ainnil nt by him."
"Ibe whites and bines gained the prize." Wore ** the whites and blues "one and the
*^9wtn they individually different?
^Hii wteaiory shall be lost on the earth." Shall he forget or l)e forgotten?
M UointelUgiblc, inconsistent, or inapj)ri>priate terms ought to bn eschewed: e. t/.j
"TWe vonU do not even convey an opaque idea of the authors meaning."
''If the savour of things lies cross to honesty; if the fancy bo florid, and the appetite
^tonnU the subaltern beauties, aud lower order of worldly symmetries and projior-
^tbc eoodact will infallibly turn the Intter way.*'f
''Snm paios hare been thrown away in att4>nii)ting to retricrc (regain) the names
^thon to whom he alludes "|
W. Avoid vnlgarisms and provincialisms: *.,7., Huilybuilles, pell-mell, the tables were
'■-•raed, to get into a scnijic, thinks I to mysolf, says I, overtopple, ciirrj'iiig favour, left
^«liift for ooe's self, &c.
IV. Pucuaoy. — 1st Betrcncli all tautological expressions: c.</,, " They have a mwftia?
•^ h each other,"* " When wUl you fv?tum again r " They /■etumed back again to
^tmt city from icfteace they came/ortk." The italics indicate the Uutologiea.
fci Repeat the same word whenever absolutely necosaary; leave no expretssion incom-
!^ « anA^gnoas for the deficiency of expression : «. g^ " This house is built of tho same
tliat«m'*(Liiid).
Unllmi't) " Lit. ufMiddle Ages," vol.i.vA^%
"Caa^n*** Pbflosophy orBhetoric." vol. U. p. 137.
^ShilieslKiry*f"Cbanoleriftties;'ToLiiLni«e.lLoh.3. t
286 RH£TOiao.^<-]K>. Tin.
The sentence — ^^ Moral prectpU are precepts the reaaoos of which we can aee/* is an
example of correct usage.
3rd. Be careful not to confonnd words apparently synonjmons, or otherwise bearing a
resemblance to each other. " Words apparently Bjnonjmoiis, and reallj so in the great
majority of instances, hare nevertheless each an appropriate meaningi which on certain
occasions is made to appear. The propriety of meaning is known <k priori by the scholar
who is acquainted with the etymology of the word, bat the person who has collected its
meaning only from its use is ever liable to mistakes, and often to the most ridicoikras
mistakes ; becanse, perhaps, in the course of his ezperienoe it has nrrer been used in anoh
a manner as to demonstrate its peculiar signification : e, g., Benevolence and Philantliropy
are frequently synonymous; they might, nine times out of ten, be substituted for one
another; and an illiterate person, collecting that each term is applied to chaxacters
and actions of kindness, mercy, and humanity, will indiscriminately use than, eren when
that humanity is shown towards the brute creation, than which mistake nothing conld be
more ludicrous." f Further examples of this error we subjoin, viz. : — Critic, critique ;
observance, observation ; conscience, consciousness ; endurance, duration ; ancnwsfwUy,
suocessivciy ; contagious, contiguous ; ingenious, ingennoos; eminent, imminent; mbUe,
subtile; luxurious, luxuriant; continual, continuous, &c The following sentence contains
an apt illustration of the clearness given by attention to the delicate shades of signification,
by which words nearly synonymous are frequently distinguished, viz. : — "" The diligent
student may acquire knowledge, obtmn rewards, toin prizes, gain celebrity, and get higli
honours, though he earn no money."
4th. Words oi^ht not to be used with the signification of the language from vrhicb.
they are derived, when another meaning has been attached to it in tlie language of tlie
writer: e. g.^ " I have considered the subject in its integrity," — ^whers integrity, irem
integer f whole, means entirety ^ instead of honesty, uprightness, wholeness of moral cha-
racter, which is its usual signification.
Sach are a few of the roles of expression which we desire to imprass npon the miads
of our readers. In our next article we shall pursue the subject, when we hope to bstve
the patient attention of our readers. Dry, tedious, and uninteresting as our remarks ma v
appear, they are useful. Pray lot them be carefully studied.
♦ Butler'*" AtialoRy,-p. 155.
f " The CommoD'plaoe Book " of Uus late Bishop Copplestone, quoted iu the preiace of Whately *s
** Bjnoujnies."
Thousaxds of men breathe, more, and live — pass oif the stage of life, and are hourd of
no more. Why ? None arc blessed by them ; none oonld point to them as the raestns of
their redemption : not a line they wrote, not a word they spoke, could be recalled, and bo
they perished 7 their Hght went out in darkness, and they were sot remcaibered more tluua
the insects of yesterday. Will yoa thus Hve and die? Live for soinethiog. 0» S^od.
and leave behind you a monument of virtue that the storms of time can never destroy.
Write your name, by kindness, love, and merey, on the hearts of thousands yoa coxne in
contact with year by year, and you will never be forgotten. No; yoar OMne, your ^eeds,
will be as legible on the hoirts yon leave behind yon, as the stars upon Uie brow of the
ereniqg. Good deeds will shiaft.as brightly on ths «aEth as the stars of hasveSi
CAM CBBISnAas BXaDBB BUPPOBT VO THE BBITISH STAGE?
f»7
Hflipn.
CAN CHRISTIANS, CONSISTENTLY WITH THKIR PRINCIPLES, RENDER
SUPPORT TO THE BRITISH STAGE ?
AFFIRMATIYS ABTICLE.-.y.
hf taking tip my pen to write upon this
fiibjed, I ■ball not atteoipt to oritidae anj
flf tk iitieles thai hare appeared in this
^cbste, bat rather give mj own views oa.the
ssKject u briefi J as posaible.
h tbe fifBt piaco, I wonM inqoire whether
tk theatre Buy be aapported mertly on the
p««id of iti bong a source of annaement?
Hat it is a soorce of amosement none will
a^tmpt to denj, and this characteristic has |
canaended it to the attention of manj of
thtgreat and good. I Dr. Johnson says : — ** I
V «) t constant frequenter of tbe plajhoose:
w^en dte can one have so mncb enter-
t»mn2«ot with so little concurrence of one's
tvB adcavoors. At all other assemblies he
tto eooMB to receive delight will be expected
t» ^re it; bat in the theatre nothing is ne-
<essai7 to the amusement of two honrs but
t(> nt down and be mlling to he pletued.'^
Aiinen, ia 'tbe ^feckU<try says: — ^*As a
perfect tngtdj ia the noblest prodnetion of
hvua natnre, so it is capable of giving the
^shi one of the most deligJUful and im-
P^^rhig aUertammenU" '*A virtnons man
fieTv Seneca) ctmggliog with miifort«i»s
^^eh a spectaele as yodf fi^ki look vpon
**4 pkastsre^ and tuck a pleasure it U tchich
<■' *«<« teiih In a w^toritten tragedy.
^^i^'trtiome of tkis kmd wear out of our
<i'>«9k» emrytkmff ikai is me«m and Utile.
^h ekerisk amd cultivate tkat humanky
*^ M <le emcHaeMl rfouir nature. They
^^ meoiatee, eootke ajfliction^ and tubdue
f^nmdto the dispentatume of Providence.
^^'»m wmier^ therefore, that, in all polite
^^tesof Hie wvrld the dimma has met with
f^^ eDeettiagement." Again, in another
Fvt eC tbe ^Melolor, we iind this pas-
*^:--^ FIsBSiiMa aftd leertatioB, of one
^ «r aaetber, am abealuteiff neoeBsairy to
^'•fre o«r minda and bodies from too eon^
^^tattemioa end hUmr; where, dierefore,
f^^ diteirima ate tolerated, it behoves
y^^*tms ef distinctwD, with their power and
^<*an>)«. t* pnside ofw them in aoeh a
manner as to check anything that tends to
the oormption of manners, or which is too
mean or trivial fur the entertainment of x
rational creatures." From the foregoing ^
remarks I infer that support may be rendered
to the '* British stage** as an excellent soaree
of amnsemMit ; for, though leligion condemns
such pleasures as are immoral, it manifests
no improper austerity with respect to those
that are innocent The cautious discipline
it prescribes excludes us not from the gay
enjoyments of life ; but rather admits them
as recreations from care, as instruments for
promoting friendship and of enlivening social
intercourse.
But, farther, the stage is worthy of support
from the £sct that much real good may be
derived from it. Dramatic poetry has been
esteemed by all civilized nations. It is
divided into the two forms of tragedy and
comedy. The former rests upon the strong
passions, the virtues, crimes, and sufferings
of mankind; the latter on their humours,
follies, and pleasures. In the former, terror
and pity are the great instruments; but
ridicule mainly so in the latter.
Tragedy, considered as an exhibitioa of
the character and behaviour of men, in some
of tbe most trying and critical situations of
life, is a noble kind of poetry. It is a direct
imitation of human actions and manners: it
is a mirror in which we behold ourselves, and
the evils to which we are exposed. Tragedy,
in its general strain and spirit, isfavowahle
to virtue. Such power hath virtue over the
human mind, by the wise constitution of our
natmre, that oar passions cannot be strongly
moved wUhout at tlie same time awakening
within OS soms virtnons emotaons. We foel
intcfested in those ohairaetan wfao an lepie-
seated as virtttoas and hnnontnblt, and on
indagnity is raised against the objeots of vice
and depravity. Sometimes, indeed, the vir**
tuouB may be represented as unfortnoste;
but this is often the case in real llfe^ and our
hearts wiU always be«ngnged in their bahal^
269
CAN cBicisvum, ^xunwrarrtY . wobk^'TOKibi imi9f«PLEs,
£Tra ^rfaen fcftdrmen aMsceDdin tlieir dcngns^
jnaiduamk M^muft nado to attetid tfaem;
and tuaBTj •£ oao kibid or other ia abown to
be DBayddablf contiected with goilt. Lot»
and admiratiott of yirtiioiis eharaetera, com-
paasoi for the iiijured aad diatocBsed, and
lodigDatkiii tagaiQat the authors of thmr snf-
ferioi;, are the sctttiiusnts most general!/
excited bj trsgedy. And, therefore, though
dnuDBtie writon may aomdimea, like others,
be guilty of im^oprietios, jvt we most admit
that tngedy ia a apeoiea ef moral compensa-
tion. Ariatoile aajrs the design of tragedj is
" to porge omr psasions hy means of pitj and
isRor;" while another aaja^ ** Tragedy ia in-
tended to impretto oar viitnons sensibility."
Modem tragedy has aimed at pointing oat to
men the consequences of their own miscon-
dnot, showing the direfal effects which am-
bition, jeaiousjr, lot e, resentment, and other
strong emotions, when misguarded or left
onrestrained, produce upon human life. A
Macbeth^ ineitod by ambition to commit the
crime of murder; an OAeUo^ harried by jea-
lousy to put to death his innocent wife; a
Jt^er, cnanaied by resentment and want to
engage in a conspiracy, and thenotung with
remorse and in^lved in ruin; a CaHata,
seduoed into a criminal intrigue which orer-
whelms herself, her father, and her friends in
misery; — these, and such as ihe&Ht <uv the
examples which tragedy disphiys to pubiic
view, and by means of Tphich it inculcates the
proper goremment of Uie passions*
Comedy is distinguished from tragedy by
it& general spirit and strain. While pity and
terror, and the other strong passions, form
the province of tragedy, t&e chief instrument
of comedy is ridicule. Comedy has for ita
subject neither the great sufferings nor great
crimes of men, bat their foUtes and slightor
vioes, with those puru of their (^laetsr
which ndee in beholders a sense of impro-
priety, which expose them to be censured
and laughed at by others^ and which render
them troublesome in society. There ia nothing
in the idea ef thle kind of nooipoiltion that
rendeiB it liable to uenaure. To polish the
mauiMia of ■en*'«4o prodMle tttemioa to the
proper- deoomma of sooild belwfiour-^ad,
abeiro all, to render vioe cidkoleo^^ia doiB(g
&iaal service lo the mrid.' Ben Jcnsonimtt
says,
Wwmade
»«'!tfy'rtrfet!«iha''
p!and-wUh»||fi]pe
^qmeeze oiifc the huao#ur ef snahiapoa^ touls
As lick up «v<iry idle vanity."
The insight whieh ia give« hj tfatatrical
perioRBBnoee into real life is a veiy great
advantage attendant upon them* Ue who
has not been "ha^kney'd ia the ways ef
men" may here Bod a true picture of their
extravagances. When a man is made up of
the dove, without a partide of the serpent,
he becomes ridiculous in many cireumstanoes
of life. The Corddiers tell a atory of their
founder. Sir Franoia, that> in passii^ through
the streets in the dusk of the evening, he
discovered a yoang £eUow with a maid in a
comer, apon which the good man lifted op
his hands to heaven with secret tlianb^
giving that there was still ao much christian
charity in the world. The innocence of the
samt made him mistake the kiss of the lover
for a salute of charity. Thns, then, the
representations from the theatre will diselose
to us the motives of many of the actions ef
our feUow-oroatures of which we shoukl
otherwise be ignorant. This I consider one
great consideration in its favour; lor, as
Addison says, ^*/ am ktartUy aomcetHed
to/Mfi I see a ptVlnoM mam toiikout o co»p<*
ttHi knowledge ^tht tBorld"
Having described the benefits which may
be derived from the stage "asU <mgkt to be^'
I do not wish to close my eyea io the atage
" as U rtaUy is" I doubt not but that it is
the scene of maay improprieties, both ia
words and aotaons. But I would ask, what
is there in the world that is not liable (o
perveraion and abuse? We canoot menUun
one aingW bleasmg that haaaot been, at Mme
time or other, perverted. Are the evils said
to be at present attendant on the British
stage necessarily so, and cannot the British
stage besnpperted ^Tithontenoooraging vioe?
If it osA, then it ia the dnty of ail Chriatiaw
to suppdrt it, and to remove from it all thai
is of an immonal tendenoy, and ihna to pnv
vide for the people that which ia no deurabto
'—an amosenKnt which is not pcmieioos on
bnrtlul to their morala^
One great reason adduced bjr nmay fo^
their oppoaition to theatrical pedonnnneea ia,
that no moral truth should ever bn coaveyed
to the mind under the garb of fiction. ]
think that fictitioia hiatosy ia nan of tb^
best ohaniMb lor /oonv^ing iastnaotaon— ^04
painting homaoB Ufemd manner»-*-&HrahowH
ing the enura intO'ithieh ira stfn betmveJ
TlKKtoKtt, SOFPOBT T(» THE BinnMl VTAOS ?
299
'T onr ]MKiioRF-'^nd for rendering ▼irtnc
iAiniaUe and vice odious. Lord Bacon takes
ooiSa of the tatte for Sction as a proof of
ths greatness and di^itj of the hnman
^^^: lie observes that tlie objects- of this
''i^.sDd the common train of affairs wliich
^ bibikl goinjv <m in it, do not fill the mind,
aor pre it entire satitifuction. We seek for
HBMtliing that shall ex(>and the mind in a
in«at«r degree; we seek for more heroic and
UJDrtrions deeds, fiir m<xe diversifiod and
inrpivinf; events; for a more splendid order
if tloDgs; a more regular and jnst di;s-
trilntion of rewsrds and pnnislimcnt tlinn
*e find here r and thns wc havit resort to
'Vtkm; ve create worlds according to uur
^tBCT, h order to gratifj our capricious
I ifasi] not attempt to deny thut the pro-
'inn of GAmedy has frequently been nbuscd,
iBd therefore has been deserving of some
Cttsne; but, as I have stated, it is on
f<nilv alone that such reproach is jnstitiahle.
Kficale is an instalment of rach a nature
*>^.vfaeD managed by unnh'ljtil or impi-oper
Wr, there is hazard of its doin^ mischief
^34tid of good to society. Licentious
^tcn, therefore, of the comic class, have
^ often had it in their power to cast a
^•Ue upon characters and objects whicii
^M deserve it; but this is a fault imt
'^*91i the fiafwrs of comedy, bnt to tlie
^*tn«f it. In the hands of a loose, im-
^BQi nChor, comedy will mislead and cnr-
i^'Vbilc in those of a virtnous and wclU
i^'Htsned one it will not only be a gay and
-OBnot, bnt a knubibie tuni ntefHl enter-
tainmmt. Wo will admit that tho writings
of Wydierley, Congrevc, Farqnhar, aadothen,
have in them a slight tendency to immorality;
bat thut is h^ing at the question ** at it
ircM,'* and not ** as it a." I think wo ooglit
now to confess the truth of what a learned
writer states on the subject: — ** I am happy
to liave it in my power to observe, that of
late yeard a sensible reformation has began
to tako place in English comedy; we havn
at last become ashamed of making oar pul>-
lie entertainments rest wholly upon proHigato
characters ; and our later comedies are macli
puritied from the licentiousness of former
times. If they havo not the spirit, the ease,
and the wit of Congrevc and Farqnhar, they
may, however, justly merit the praise of
being innocent and moral."
1 have thus laid the case before the reader)
of this magazine in the fairest light I can,
without any misrepresentation on either side.
I have eiideavouretl to draw a truo pictnra
of tho stage and its ctfects, aud J trust I have
convinced some that, although the stage mar
not now be all we could wish, it is the dutv
of Christians to strive to improve it. Alass-
ingcr has well said —
" 'Tis urged
That we rorrupt youth, unil inuluce »uperjors,
WUeii w« do brinj; u vice upon the stUK^.
Thai ilot:s fto ofl'un^uiuinUtMl. Do we Icach^
By the surcefln of wicked underUikingfl,
OiLeiv to tread in llieir forbidden footsteps"
Vtv bhow no arts of Lyilian luunluriiini,
Coi-inlliian ])oi»ou», Persian flittterics,
Uiit mulcted to in the n'/te/i/ito/i, tliat
Kreu thoM! »pectutuTS that wen.- hO indiaeil
Cio hiiute chang'd men."
i D. IL
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— V.
^tUi discanion will nceessaiilv elicit
Wtt aflfectinf: the mural and religious
4>uter of thouaands, wo ought to be very
'4« ad dupaaaiooate, as well as conscien-
^iacndving those opinions; then they
^ be meh as, when dying, we shall not
^ to retract We toko it fur granted that
Utfrinciplesof a Christian are the same a»
'•i«c wianriated in tlie word of God, espe-
^ IB that part of it called the New Tes-
^^eit; and, if to, we fearlessly avow our
^PBIQO that tfaeM prindples are radically
'it%iiiiiliii to^ and TitaUy incompatible with,
^ pfaicq^of tlia Britiifa atage as it is,
^^d tt. ii ahragrs baa becBi. Conaetiacntly
no Christian con, without compromuiug hio
principles, iiU])port tho " British stage." This
f>]jiniun is supported by the following rca«
sons: —
1. The principles and tone of the '■ stage**
are — theoretically aud pmctically, inten-
tionally and professedly— of a secular, and
not unfrequeutly of a binistrous character.
To obtain money and applause, t« please the-
st^nses and gratify tho niorbid cravings of a
depraved nataru, is the design of the " British
stage; " whereas the prineiphs of a Christian
are set forth in such jiassages as these >—
'* Love not the world, neither the things tliat
are in the world. If any roan love the worlds
S90
CAN cRSvxxAxSy txxMunamrur vaat. tbbxb. nniciru&s,
thcloTreoftbeFBifaerisnotiiiluiii." ''The
ifiend^p of tJ^ world is euuty with God."
*' B^ je flpiiituaUj minded." ^ The earnal
mind is enmitj a^nst God.** " To be car-
nally minded is death." '' Have no feliowahip
with the imfhiitfiil worics of darkness, bat
rather reprove them.*'
2. The stage is, in its tendency, ''earthlj,
eensnal, and devilish" — designed to allure
the nnwary— calculated to neatralize the
religions effects produced in the minds* of the
young at our Sunday and other schools.
That these ruinous ejects may be secured,
no expense, labour, or risk is spared, finery
and farce, ad infinitum, are resorted to by
managers and actors. Hence thousands of
pounds are expended to furnish the theatrical
wardrobe of a first-rate actor, and twelve or
fifteen hundred pounds are jeopardized on a
single night's performance. Now the injunc-
tions upon a Christian are these : — " Give me
thine heart" " Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul,
and with all thy strength, and with all thy
mind." ** No man can serve two masters."
"Lead us not into temptation." "They
(Christians) are not of the world." " Set
your affections on things above, not on things
on the earth."
3. The stage is attended with indecent
expressions, licentious gestures, and immoral
suggestions. In proof of this we might refer
to numberless plays, with many of which our
readers are, undoubtedly, familiar. But, to
give weight to our argument on this delicate
point, we shall make an extract from a work*
whose author, though a minister of the gospel,
was an advocate for the "British stage."
*' It cannot be denied^" says he, " but that it
has been long the fashion, and which has
lately grown to a rank excess, to contaminate
the language of the drama with a mixture
of ribaldry and obscenity, and a profusion of
all the contemptible equivocations of in-
decency. For these no excuse can be pleaded ;
they tend directly to corrupt the heart and
to vitiate the moral sentiments. They profane
the sacredness of modesty, and they Wither
that nice sensibility to the blush a£ shame
which, when on puticnlar occasions it shows
its delicate tkfta on the cbcek of yeoth and
iieaiUy, is ia«s|muiUy captivattDg." Such
^^^^^~^~^- ■ ■ ' - - - JK - ' 1 -- - - I ■! --■ 1
* "A Picture of Christian Philosophy,- p. 136.
I»yR.Feae«res,AJI.»OMn.
ii FeUowes* piotttre of tbe ''fititttb stage,*'
and, as one of ilis ehriatian patfona, he would
nadsobtedly give it in its best ooloors. Oon-
tnet this pictnre with the fottowiog words
of holy writ:*— *' All that is in iha wodd —
the lust o£ the flash, and the lost of the eyes,
and tJie pride ef life-— is not ef the Father,
bait is of the worUL" ** Mortify your members
which are upon the earth; fornicatkn, «n*
cleanness, inofdinate afieotioo, and evil cmq-
cnpiseenoe." " Pure seligion is this— to keep
himself unspotted from iJie woridi"
4. The principles of the stage ars dsnga-
toiy to God, inaamnoh as they profane, tikke
in vain, and blaspheme, his holy name. Tfas
Christian is taught otherwise >—" Thoa ahalt
not take the name of the Lord thy God in
vain." " Swear not at all." Consdons that
this was an evil calculated to bring down
the curse of God upon this nation, an act*
was once passed by the British legislatore to
prevent its continuance; and, if we an not
mistaksB, the said act remains in nnmiti^
gated force to this day. We sul^n the lol.
lowing extract, which alone will n«gaitif« the
question at issue: — ^''Be it enacted by onr
sovereign lord, &a, that if, at any time or
times idiler the end of this present seaaioa of
parliament, any person or persons do er shall
in any stage play, interiude, show, &<l, jest-
ingly or profanely spesk or use tJhe holy name
of God, or of Qhrist Jesns, or af th« fiidy
Ghost, or of the Trinity, which are not to be
spoken but with fear and reverence, shall
forfeit ibr eveiy sncfa ofieace by him or them
committed, ten pounds, the one moietj thsccof
to the king's majesty, his heiis and asooao*
sors, the other moiety thereof to him or them
who will sue for the same in any coart of
record in Westminster, wherein no cssoine,
protection, or wager of law ahall be allowed.'*
Other acts of the same nature have been
passed at vsrions times in the ftritisk pedia-
msnt to sappreas the daagsrons tandoBcy of
playhenses, &€. But hitherto sU hare proved
abortive, as the presstit existCBOS of the
noacions nnisaaoe testiSes.
5. The playkonse is the mdasemis of
libertines and strampots— 4he hotbed of ktst
and ptoAigaoy; while the prineiples iacaU
cated upon Ohristians ase>-»"]>spBrt to,
depart ye; go out of her; tench no woiean
thiag." " Be ye sepsiale linii sinoea.'* *'li'
*aidJae.l.,oap.91.
KsarDKn arrroRT to the BRinaii btaoe?
291
7« liTt after the flvli, je >haU die." " I^
l^n that tbinkoth he ataiuietb, take heed lest
t*ia\L" *'Ble«acd is the inan that walketh
tfA io theooonsel of the un<rodlT, nor btandetli
1:. ihewAV of sinners, nor tuttetli in tlit> seat
« :be BCHnfal." ^ Can a man take tire in
hi* bosom, and his clothes not he bnmcil?"
'^'uGfie zo upon liot coals, and his feet not
Wboraed?"
6. list sta^, to sajr the ln&«t, has tlic
Jesus my Lord." If the abandonment of the
sta^re be not one of the leading featnrw in m
converted man s life, what is? And if a con-
verted man — a Christian — can, consuitently
with bis princiiilos, support and patronize
the " Brilijdi istage," what is it that he cannot
do?
" As by tlin Vitiht of openinsr day
Tlie stars nrr all eimnrulvd.
So cnrtlily plraMurcx fade awuy
When Jesus is revealed."
Stnge-pTajinp; was repudiated bv the more
ex-
"Wp^arance of cvilT whereas tbu Christiiin
» to -abstain from all apparance of evil." ! ?^"B^-P'ay>n^ was repuaiaicii uv lue ]
retake the mnnt libeml and verbal view ..f ^n^^/jl't;"'''.! hc-nthon.. as the folluwmp
«m:ian principlos, the sta-c. is of doubtful .'^^y^'; !'*^^\0'. Nm-o:!, tluMnorali.t sa3rs^- ..
^iancter. This is not onr opinirm onlv, but ' .^"^\V"- " "^'"^' "^J^""'^* ^° "^^"^'^J ^?^ '.
•* o«nian-the best opinio„-tli:it c^n b-- '»y''»'J'";^' "!»«» «"y » auius.mcnt« ; for by
the.>jc niuan^i xWc, thrtiu;;li the medium of
ad."
tted
opmicAi — tlie hcst opmu
iorofcl 1.4* the s1a;:e br those ChriMtians who
■*«p|Mrt:
unesdorses
j doobiiai —
t-^-^n^v ' I"~'i I ' /m" .-' ^ "„' "x ' in^JOiiiueli tliat nuy Itunian who turned actor
tanambe inDnnrted bv a C-hritttian, nor bv ^ • , i i i i i ^ vi
.-_^„ r* :» « ' i« 1 ,,..... 1 .* "iw not only lo bo dc;;radcd, but likfwise, as
wmuj. nnleiw it can be demonslruttii tn . ,. .■' . ^i i l i- i v
v,-j., ^ 4 i-:.i-.i . . f It wiTc.diMiicoriwratcd and unnaturalized by
"npil fnr a man to dnnk the ci»n tints of ' ' . <
^RriiM. ^ o!f *.j k..^ ;► :- «i-i..i^ heathonjj, ilic ciiilJrcn ot the nicht, what
«iii»ii stayer And how it is that tJiose . i . 'i ^i . r^^L • *• *i-
■jM *k. I .:..-ii.. :« : ^« „.,-. .. "u;;ht to tie the si>ntimunts uf Christians, the
■«• no do^niatically lUMSt u]»on swrnsois , r. , i- *i i o
-*«^: . ^ , - " ^1 / .1 ■ , ch» driMi ot thf day?
F**tap and voninc that llicir 'loS- ,,, * *i / .i i i
rfriu— » 1. II \^ *^ ^ A ..1 I 11 >»e re;:rct that those persons wlio have
"iwiWsboald TPnnuuce the drvil and all , , ^ „. ,. * ,• .i • • . ^
? Ti.-_- : .1 .^„ r - -„.„*.. I.-* nated, he must allow that it hjis been wholly
'• lliere IB another reason, or a 8ome\\ hat , ,. * ,r •* i* . n *i
aMimii:i 1 • 1 ^1 -^ ^»*- _i :«i »:-. ' diverted from its hrdt puri>ose5. llcuce the
''*"* paiiosophical ehanicter, which cmhrnis , , . .i .i • .i
«"imm in thi. .nl.j-ct. It is this:-!.' » «Kf h«»k'7nH-a..ollK-rtIung;eon«que^^^^^^
««nl Am^of. "tl.e mo.! s,ns,,al an.i "»« J»*t'fy 't« con ..uuinco. TI.e.r weij-ht i,
^Mn. «— : -J • f *: - u. ~ thrown into the other scale. Dut, it we wisii
"■oupiaiioDS and cmvin^s or tnc human . ^ , «.^ i .i x • i i i r ti:—
^li » sTT ...^^.^4« „T »* 1. « « .,» ;• I to benc'ht by t ho tra^'ical and comical follies
^ B Its nnn^eneratG state, Imw can it 1 - ^, , i ^ " *»••„« „««4k„-
iJi . _ .. 7u^ «.• i- 4i .„ » of others, let us turn our attcutiun to another
POftaod BKnt the patronajre ot thi' ranie , '
»^idin its le^enerated and ssnctilied state? 'iwa^icr, lor—
11» Christian is one who has " p"t "iV the '''^"."Twr^ ^V.!"l'!'nT«.n m.rvlvul.rpr."
jii«_ .,,.,,„^ J ,,■ Au J all tixi- iiK'ii luid Homeji merely play era.
*«»tt with his deeda." <»ncc he w.u "m ■ j v
^■baa, bnt now he is liKht iii the Lord." i *'* '-
^in bnome **« new creature; old tliiii;!B | By permission of the editors I. would take
**yHsed sway: bebniil, all thing* are be- ■ thU opportunity of cordially and conscien-
MBrnewi* And hict theme now ia: — " Yen, i tiou^ly recominendinfr to the perusal of every
faiUiiw. and I coont all things but Unw, fi>r — — - — —
he excel2enc7 of the knonleidge of Chrijt • AiUuna •• fiom. Antiii.,"p.3».
298
CAX ceoEsaauLxs, cmxasaatirvr' with rcBBnnBVCiPUEs,
jimag Hum intareBtedin tfa& miwlni of the
BriiUk Con^r&vergiaHstt a pungent work on
tktt tettptaticDs of tiie youn^^i vntten by tho
&IV. H. W. Beicl«r« en(iitt8d» '^hediimt to
Yaang >Ion " and pnUiftlNd bgr Esimlton,
▲obmsy and Co.
AFFIBMATIVE EEPLT.
y
** The finest exhibition of talent, and the most
beautiful moval ]fiaaon>t have been interdicted at
the theatre. * • • * Where is every feeling more
^>o<rplo:
leamt? what so aoleaan as to eee the exoeUeot
aroused in AiTOur of Tirtue than at a goo<rplav ?
Where is goodness so feelin^y , so enthosiistieaily
passions of the human heart called forth by a
great actor animated by a great poet?'*— Sidnet
SUITH.
^ Thb more impoitant the question, as a ge-
neral rale, the greater the diversity of opinion
upon it ; aii3, vbere reUgions enthoeiasm
can be brongbt to bear, that diversity inll
generally be mtBch more amplified, and the ar-
dour of the disputang parties increased. Being
perfectly cognizant of thtee facts, and being
likewise more deeirons of giving encourage-
ment to the free eapresaion of opinion than
of retarding it, we have nothing to regret in
the part we took in the introduction of the
present qnestion, nor have we been disap-
pointed at the snbject eliciting greater
warmth of feeling than is generally mani-
fested in these pages. But to onr task.
On introducing the question of the stage,
we imagined that in all fairness we should
rather keep in view its legitimate position
and influence, than treat it under the
adverse circumstances by whicli neglect and
cormptiori have surrounded it. The subse-
quent affirmative writers have seemed also to
appreciate this line of argument^ and have
adopted it. On the contrary, the negative
writers have found it would best suit /ietr
purpose to deprecate this mode of procedure
— ^to put prominently fbrward the abuses of
the stage — to impart to the whole argument
a strong religious tone and c<^ouring, and to
make hard hits at those whose opinions are
contrary to th«u* own* . tVell^ after all this
we. am not diimayed. We mi^ \atvt e^red
In onr judgment, and tjnajf have to staffer the
defeat consequent thereon; /but there la yet
aBe<«on8olatMnv and it i^ thi»->->that, if wo
have erred, it has been in good company; for
we haye tifs t«atM9fViy/pf thocrentc^e/^rritois
of the greatest nations in favour of the* heme-'
ficial intoopQ off TuvUfif l4Mii^- dmttatic
JWe^atatiQw;.M^ o^j^ithoi'^Mq baad
pT pQctarx^i«cvq|iV, ,aod. m«iw^' Usingi aad.
dea4-T*jwD| ^\^bfit in.^tter.*<».iin;flI»Dt| in
the same declaration. But w« must descend
more to details.
"Ariatides'' Ss the first with whom we
join in debate. Pasring over, for the present,
his argument, that the stage i» not a repr^
sentstion of society, and hat no cooaterpart
except in the mind of the author, which we
unhesitatingly deny, we would inquire f&r
an explanation of the following sentence
which occurs in his paper, near its dose : —
*' We are debarred fram having that kiphtr
order of thetUncah whith migH he benef&ial;
and, M long as theatres are directly de-
pendent on the pnblio for support, so long
most inferior theatrleals prevail, for the few-
only can appreciate iMiel&ctuai tke<awieak»*
What are we to infor {rom this soatenoa?
or what is its common-sense translstioii?
** Aristides," it may be irowittingly, but eer>
tainly very ckarhf^ admits the pottMiitjg cf
a ** higher order of theatricals; " and he cer-
tainly also admits their dedrabiUtjf^ by ii8ui|t
the words, ** which might be beneficial r*
If there is a probaMUty of their being bene*
fidal, it is desirable they ehonld be tried.
No one will deny this. And, to mice it more
clear to hia readoni that he is |i«rfeoUy in
earnest in this bdief, '^Aristite," at the
close of his sentence, refers distinetly to
"^ inulkctual theatricaUJ' Bat then, of
course, "Aristides* is laboturini; Under «
mistaken notion! Tliere is no intelleetnality
in theatricals I Oh, nol they an att abomi>
nations! designed to ensnare, engulf, raixi^
and nndermine all moral end ' intellectaal
aimi and ends, and sanctioned only hry tb«aei
who are debased below the oommon level oj
theirlelloiW'CreatiireBl Wherefbm,thcii,a«iob
aUnsiokia? Bat stay! SnppoBn^ tlx&i
'< Aristides^' ehoM be riphty 4Bid that tla«zi
lenUy nugrht bo '*^iateUottaal theatrikials **-^
or^ in other woidi^ -that theatms may H
mads< piuues fof InteHeotnal oiikftrs mm
iatiUeatnal jimpr«feHihnt**««b«W' weald ««|
PtiitaiileifrictiatbettflbftadtiiiderMidA ^ii^
eoMisMacli? Wr apprehend tbattiw -a«a*«
dkfeate wUoh' aay».tet« otiber- wtnS, ^ o^
> wisdim^*^*** fleek knawledge«nd taiteivt.aaxKJ
ing^iW QohiaatvandimpiDve (heintvUf
RBSCDCK BUVrORT TO TUB BBITUH tXAOE ?
893
) which God has giren joa" would
» them, and UuU thof might, as cxm-
ss other mcD, adopt the means now
Misideration, and the inconsutena/
p nther " in the breach than in the
lee ! " We belierc " Aristi Jos " ia
The tme drama has a decidedly
tal ttndency. We do nut for a mo-
ppQse that **■ Aristides " intended to
:aiiEe snch cfBcient service; it is one
instances in which " zeal overshoots
c;** nevertheless, we are eqoaUy in-
to him for liis unintentional good
ext writer who clainu our notice \a
'., who, after some jast remarks,
th an «r of self-satisfaction, " What.
f qaality is discoverable in envy?
ristian grace in mnlice? What vir-
^poaitiim in jealousy?" Surely the
innot be in earnest! Does he for a
suppose that envy, nuJice, or joa-
) iatroiiaced upon the tXagQ to tind
1 thu eyes or ears of the auditors?
as a more mistaken notion! In all
\it playa the cliaracters who excel in
or more of these pnrticniHrs inva-
me to an ignoble and infamous end.
I DOW add -that the reason of the
tion of these deba&inj^ patu-ions into
> plots and histrionic entcrtaiunients
•purpwe of" showing virtue her owii
■com her own image," and deterring
who witiierts the evil resulting from
ioBS from faliin;; into the like? We
IL P. will, in fnture, have a better
flding of the subject.
9Bf, after all, to have been left to
adniiniater to all insane believors
Mrits and miHsion of tlio stage the
ibation which tliey so riclily descr\-e ;
I ns (the rnifortnnate C. W., Jun.)
•tema to hare descended heaviest.
c thit w», in tlie exercise of that
of thought and expression belonging
ihmeiL, should hare dared to defend
ution which " ever has been, is now,
will be,'' domoralixing and debased —
lUed Corth the lamentations of the
kojrapbcr, Joboaon — and which, so
M the days of the Monarch of the
■god the buj brains of Master Wil-
MiewJiot loaibnaef bat to chronicle
m-t£. thoK who bad performad tiiat
iri .U» tnifll! Or, again, that we
should adopt anything which had been ori-
ginated by the clergy, or which had been
devoted to the purposes of religion. Detest-
able source for even the meanest advantage
to spring! In these days of boasted tolera-
tion, \.Ai think of tolerating an institution
upon such a plea! Kxoommnnication, with-
out bi'uefit of clergy, would be far too good
for us ! Yot we arc prepared to staud by
what wo have written. It is not yet proved
to onr satisfaction that theru is anything in
Dr. Johnson's writings upon which to build
an arirument against the sta^e; and, as to
Mr. William Prynno, had we time we could
veiy considerably reduce the formidable ap-
pearance of hit efforts to cast obloquy on the
drama.
Turning to Johnson's "Progress of tlie
Drama," wc find the opening stanza to con-
sist of a tribute to the memory of Shaks}>earc,
the greatest hero of the stage: —
'* When Irarning'a triumph o'er her barbarous ^'
Joes
First lear'd the stage, imraortiil Sholupeari-
ro»o.
Earh chaiis'e orniimy-coloiireil life he drew,
.ExItnusU-il worl(K, itnti ttii.-n iinufrinH new.
KxImU'iicc .law him simin Uer buundi'U ri-ifm,
And ])uutiTi^ time toilM uftf>r him in vnin:
H JH pow vrfiil Htmkeji presiding Truth impms'd.
Aiul unresisted piusiun stonu'd tbu brvoat."
Ill* does, indeed, lament that the public
taste sometimes induced managers to lowrv
the standard of their porformances; but fur-
nishes the following just apology: —
" Hard i^ his lot that here by Tortunc plnrcif,
Miut wntnh the wild vii-isHitiidcs ortasiu :
With i:very meteor ofcHpriec miwt piftv.
And cliose tlic ncw-burii bubbltrs ol the day.
Jh ! lit not censure term our fate our cholcr.
The stage ftt/f echoes buck the public t:oiee ;
The firama's laws tlic ilrama'i patmuH ftiTc,
fur we Uiat live to please, ii)U»t plc>nse to live."
And he conclnd^s by reminding his readers
that it was for them
" to bid the reign rnmmrace.
Of rcsimed nature und revivini^ ncmie;
To trace the charms of souiul— the pomp of
•how —
>'or useful mirth, and Mulutiiry wop ;
Hid scenic virtue/nrm the risint/ ajfe^
And lauTU dijnse her radiknee /ram the
staye."
Let W. T. and "Aristides*' digest these
lines!
With regard to W. T.'s challenge for na
to "point to a single individaal who erer
bccamo a mon moral Alan by witnessing the
reprowmtation of vice," we will etkd«i.^Q^ \»
S94
CAN CHBOTIAaS, C01f8IBTE2rrLY -NVITH THEIR PEISCIPLES,
perform the bidding. ]f our friend will tarn
y to the life of George Colman, who was very
excellent in the character of Gtorpe Barn-
toeU, he will find it narrated tliat Coleman
once received a^/?jf pound note from a per-
BOH unknown, accompanied with a letter
begging his acceptance of it as a token of
the writer's gratitude, who was some yean
ago Bcuted from destruction by seeing him
perform the part of Barfwoell in a tragedy
of that name ! We ventnre to saj that other
instances are on record; but, as we are asked
only for one, we need not give more. The
great Shakspeare himself says, in Ham-
to.—
<* I have beard
That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,
Have by the very cunning or the bcene
Been stniek no to the Mml, that preMtitly
Tb«y have prodaioBcd their maIe£u:tion»."
\
Let those who build their argument,
assertions only, remember they stanc
dangerous ground.
'^Adelphos" in the last number, an
in the present, follow in much the same
as their predecessors, and therefore
require particular attention.
Several points to which we hsd in
to have made allusion arc already an
by D. H. in the preceding paper; W'
now, therefore, only to express a hof
those who adopt our views as to the legi
purpases of the stage will endeavour,
means in their power, to purify and
it — to make it less the slave of fasii
licentiousness, and more the recept.ii
preserver of great thoughts and pure
C. W.,
NEGATIVE REPLY.
The papers on tho affirmative of this
question are of an apologetic, instead of being
of a defensive, nature. The writers in com-
mon admit that the British stage is in a
corrupt state, but maintain that Chri&tiana,
having neglected it, are themselves to blame ;
and the question they have discussed is,
**May theatrical representations be mailc
condacive to morality?" — one which few will
be hardy enough to oppose. We will not
grant them that the debate should be so
construed. The British staf;e has a large
constitueiuT^, among whom are many intel-
ligent and christian men ; and, as it cannot
be supposed that these render it their coun-
tenance and support unreasoningly, we ex-
pected to have had the arguments by which
these had satisfied their consciences of the
propriety, or rather the righteousness, of
their course. We cannot, however, admit a
change in the terms of the debate, as it is
not some ideal, nor what a fntnre age may
call the British, stage with which we have
to do, but what actually is at the present
day.
We are nearly at one with our opponents
as to the value of theatricals, abstractedly
considered. If it were possible to separate
the stage from the preset attendant abomi-
nations, it might be an institution calculated
in an eminent degree to exalt the character;
but such a title cannot be claimed for it
ODtU it Isms nnder^ne a radical change. It
is forced into a stricter observance
amenities of social life now than here
for the people, despite its pestilent inf
have attained a higher morality ; b
time has been wh«Q lady risitors,
introduction of a new play, lest it mi
of an equivocal character, wvre in the
of wearing masks. What else, indeed
be expected? At that period both '
and players were beneath the standai
r.ility of other men, low as that was.
atricul representations are within their
sphere when exhibiting the more lovel
lities of man's nature, and are, in ths
calculated to exert a beneficent inflne
the auditory; but that sj^ere is nt
extended when the less amiable traits
place ; for, though it may be argued th
is not acting faithfully to nature, an
we thereby lose, in variety of charaet
moral lessons conveyed by refniesentat
which these disfigurements of nature i
even granting that the vidous exp
poetical justice, are not a whit more n
than those of our public stnmgtilatkMi
support of good men need not be es
till this change has been effected.
We can examine only one or two
statements of the oppwing writers,
compels us to be brief, else, as re
matter abounds in other papers, oon
extend to a considerable length.
C.W. writes:— "Nor thall wo on
mUTDER BUrrOItT TO THB BR1T1RII STAGG ? S95
Mj that the results of such t^ncliinrs ns 11. T. nrmarkSf iiic-idcntui, tbat it still
It be 'to FUM the ^nius and nnu'nd the detbrais the pluy.s will not h^ denied; and
It"* Will the writer pardon us when wc this, taken in conjunction with the other
that we consiider this as morvlj n wai^te j fact, that in tlie theatre are to be met the
Itttoric, as he hiinwlf, a little way further depraved and desii;nin^ of both ficzoff, who
Mates that the stage "is woir, iu inanv are alwnys rpa«]T to mislead, renders it
wts, jftr fJiftrtnt from what he wonld exceed! nply l^uuidous to tlicao wIiohc cha-
e it to be." The statements are deafly I racters are as yet imtormrd. A Christmn,
ndictoiy; for if it has retrograded, as ' however, is not at lit)ortT to tamper with
intiniates it has, it is imp^issible that | temptation, and his refusal to Tisit the the-
iti soch as he states could have accrued < at re docs not arcnie any want of " moral
I ths tcachinfrs to be had there. But j restraint,*' or any neglect of responsibilities,
tfage is, in troth, now more healthy, but ar;;;ues that, from a strict re;rard to
lUy, than it ever has been before. On I principle, he has determined that, in this
point oar able coaiijutor, W. T., luu particular, he should not be ranketl with
iij done himself hononr. We shall > thoiie who are " lovers of pleasures more than
Wfv to bhow that it is not compatible lovers of (lod." We do not say that thwe
!i tke natore of the stage, as at present frequenting the theatre must *' necessarily
Jacted, to produce the results claimed fall into loixse habits;" bnt that their position
it by C. W. The object of those who is extremely perilous we think we have clearly
1 the stage is, pmfessedly, amusement, established. In view of the circumstances
intellect nal only unite the desire to stated, how inconsiderate is the ridicule of
I with that of beuij? entertsuned. Now, U. T., when he says, *' the Christian who
tntcrtainment provided is an index of cannot run the gauntlet of a visit to the
pcerailing taate. for it is not the interest playhouse may be benefited by considering
miD^^en to foist on tlieir audiences the phantasms that bewitched the saintly
tenr may please themselves, so that the beriDirs of old iu the seclusion of deserts."
Uiar likings of the frequenters are so " All morality ( says 11. T. ) is akin,
M^y stodieil tlutt the performances whether contained in ' Benttie's Minstnd' or
r, in effect, be said to be of their own the Dihle." We should hare liked him to
tO^. One wonld think, if the facts have [jointed out the correspondence between
1 M stated by C.W., the performances the morality of the playhouse and the Bible.
M BKds be of a strictly moral, if not of He meant us to infer that they, also, were
tl^idu tendency; but, to a considerable . alike. This is a pobition which Christians
at, the rrrerse ia tiie case; so much so, can never yield ; and he who should give coun-
taanj of the most popular plays, while tenance to any code of morals other than that
knd attractive bj their spurkling wit contained in the sacred writings is unworthy
thair hnmoroos incident, arc founded on , to be ranked among them, because, besides
raoriit,sncb as illicit amours, &c., and are doin^ violence to the principles he professes,
voj iar, remored from gennine morality, he insults the great Author of his being.
onot £0 along with C. W. in thinking ' The morality of the stage wants the reUgions
t tUi oontribntet to the enlightenment motive, the grand distinction between chris-
hewnd, the corxection of the heart, the tian and hmnan morality,
i^iag of the affiections, or the government Wc rinote from one of our weekly serials
the pTT'^ff The very retentiveness ' the following pertinent remarks : — *' A na-
(kyU he Kinaiks, characterizes the mind i tional drama should be all beantiful; de-
jipid to that which we see, renders the- ' formity should never be legitimized by the
U RprasentatioBS all the more ilan- sanction of a name; vices ought never to be
Hit for the thoughts reverting, as they | permitted to steal in under the patronage of
■ BBst, to scenes in whiih " monil , talent; and, above all, the worship of indi-
pAcy** ia interbleDded, but aggravates . vidnal reputation should never be suffered to
■Inpclnates the evil. | deprave the taste and cormpt the judgment
UlMiifb the imiDaralitf of the stage it, ■ of the public.'* Aristides.
296
;0» to KAV?
^^iliisii]ilp(.
IS WOMAN MENTALLY INFERIOR TO MAN ?
NEGATIVE ABTICLE.—m.
This Is a great and interesting socuil
question. On the Yerdict of gcneraJ jadg-
ment upon it depends very largely the social
position of the fair p(^on of creation. One
great feature of that position is universally
recognised in the civiHzed world: claims far
the other have heen only recently heard.
The long unquestioned occupants of the
Downing-fitreet of the heart — the ladies — are
now in many quarters advancing their claims
to a share in the guidance of the head. We
are inclined, while admitting the absurdities
into which many advocates of the " rights of
woman" have fallen, to move that the peti-
tiou he taken into consideration; and we have
a, strong suspicion that, if the petitioners
were themselves '* heard at the har" of the
British ConiroversiaUsif the negative of the
question would be tpsojacto proved.
What, we are entitled to ask at starting,
is the necessitf — amoral or otherwise — for
mental disparity between the sexes? Where
is the natural law upon which we are bound
to receive it ? Is human happiness and social
harmony more secure on this than on a con-
trary assumption? Is man able to do more
for the world alone than man and woman
together? But, not to pursue further in-
quiries, each of which suggests a puzzling
successor, there are several positive difiBculties
in our mind in the acceptance of the inequality
theory. It appears " very like " the affirma-
tion of a second order in creation. It is
possible to conceive of many diflferences of
another kind without involving any such
distinction : but a difference in mind is fun-
damental ; it is the grand feature of humanity,
which separates it from lower tiers of befa^.
We can understand, too, the existence at
Tariations and inequalities in the male and
female mind to a great degree; but when we
are told that they spring irom inheretat
necessity — that the qo% a$ a sea;, is superior,
heamM it is male; the other, a» a aex^ in-
ferior, hecau$e it is female — we hardly know
how to escape the inference that the one is a
lower, although a similar, race than the other. |
To draw another alignment fnm. vttlogf-^
that of the universal law of eompensation.
which in the animal world has afforded so
much employment to naturalists, and so muck
interest and instruction to others. On this
principle we should expect to find mequalxties
in one direction balanced by beauties or ad-
vantages in another. Begirding mankiiid
physically, we find the law to hold good.
Man challenges the pre-eminence in strength
and vigour, woman in beauty and gracf^.
Morally, too, man is distingnished for tbv
sterner, woman for the gentler, impnlaes.
But viewed mentally, if woman he inferior
here, where lies the compensation? How is
the balance adjusted? Is nature at fault?
or is the disparity theory wrong? Agair.,
For what is man, as an intellectual an-l
moral agent, eminently constituted? Foi
society. For what, as an indivUhtaf^ is h^
constituted ? For society — iwUvidmal sccie ti
— with a view to mutual efibrt, enconragti
ment, and co-operati<m. Such co-operatiot
it does not admit of a doubt, !s intended t
extend to the higher elements of nature
Besides the more obvious designs of sue
society, it has the laudable and sacred en
of united moral action and .onited metit^
exertion, each helping and animating tl
other in the struggle (^ responsible exlstenc
each leading the other onward and npwar
But if in this latter exigence woman &ii
and that, too, from a necessity of her bein
how powerful and beautiiul a charm
destroyed! She participates the hattle
man with the re^ties of life; she dirij
with him its vicissitudes and its cares ; s
shares his sympathies and affections,
hopes and fears : but now, in the most ardu^
and the most important phase of his ex
tions, man is left alone! The " help m
for him," pronounced to be so npon
highest authority, fails him, 'when, at
events, m deeply needed as before^
cannot understand, counsel, or advise,
requires itself to be led! And such a 9
position robs it almost as much of its chi
19 WUM.UI ME3STAr.LT l.MFKUMK T<> MAX?
297
•w of its yalue. The mind ceases to luvo
»li3t it ii obligi^l to desiiisi.'. Men liavc
}*rtD«rs that cannot svmf-.tthize with, pcr-
l.ap*, two-thirds of tlu'ir Daturc. It is triK;
mental disjwnty can jirove is, tliat there
exi&ts no noci'ssity for female intellect to
flow in tlic same cliannel.s ami assume Iho
!<.»"ne contour as mule intdU'ct — that the
twt. on anj supposition, many must incur I mental stnam assainM varietl coloum from
tJit niiifortune ; but, on that of inlicn-nt ft- ' tin- fields at"' -"^^^^^ tjjn.ii.ri, nml under which
■^•ririferii)rirr,T{!ry fewcaiihirotlicrn-iMihitu ■ »t wmds, awd not n«»ni any tit'licieui-y ot iiro-
alftl: tiie va^l inajoril/ must l-c linked with | jji»rtion or of ih-ptli in itfflf.
2«ug*vf a lo^rer meiifai ^nide than tln'm- It is n<il nLnnutiiinn to rcTer. in :Mip}Mii of
«i»a. To our ap|>T»!heiidion such a cin'uni- ' the contr.iry vii-w, to the primitive curse
liiaix TrriolJ iuvulve a Di^t Insi,i;niPiCnnt i np^n \vo:naii,an-l its ]in>«]icted consequencei*.
liftlacliyn from the felicity even of primeval ■ There is hi-n* some apj^.-aranci* of plausibility;
EJea. But if it would be unfurtunate for , but nfli-otion has ronvincid us that inferences
luc, would it ii'it be DO less unjust to woman? .of an i>]ip(V(iie natun' are quite ca];KihIe of
li it dijI unfair to deny her, as irnuinn, even h»-iu,:: drawn from the .same source. On a
loasT fx tent, her due shan; in those p'ra- conij-rohv'n.-ive view of the soripture njirra-
K^5 of the mind which arc so ju»tiy tivo, the suhonli nation of woman to nun
ACXffiiDtcil the c'A.'r/* pleasures of an immortal wmilil set in to be rather a j»//«:c'>a/ than a
fcfiij? Ydu ailuiit the happiness of a hij^hly- '. nofuvnl onh-r of thinirH: less a conseijuence
nltirited mind; and yet you drny that bap- I of t!ie n-speciive [*eculiaritie.'> of the sexes —
i-inesft to woman, or, at least, claim for man whi(h it wonld have ncedi'd no divine inter-
the greater share,
"liut are male and female intellect, then.
vention to point out, and which would have
posses>)ed none of the fi'atures of punishment
nJIeally the same ? " By no means. That which, as it is, seems proiicrly to bolonpf to
tttfrare diSerences, it were iis ah;,urd as it . it— than a subjection ordtiiicd on a special
*we vain to deny. The gist of the contro- j iiccasion and f«»r a special pnr]V);ic. The very
Tear L'es in the question, whether the dif- ! occuiTcnre, indeed, of su«'h an incident in
ifsaiea are t^asc of di&jwu-ity or of diversity. , the sa>T"'i'. pHords apj-ears like an indication
^e believe them to be the latter; and we that no such suhj-cti-in had previously
Itiik tlie losing tii^ht of the ju>t distinction cxi.strd — that there h.ul hivn no disparity,
Wctn the two is the cause of much of th-; i and r.o inferiority; and it will not, we pre-
'^"tSBci'ption which prevails. T!ie f^aine sumo, be said there is any reason for con-
tbt 1» applied to feminine as to masculine clmlin;; that cau'^fs have been in opnnition
^sd, awi the result i«, that the former is ! ^xwq the event r« ferretl t'>, to induce dissimi-
«i«a.'«il to lie found w.^ntirig. Xo wundi-r. larities wliich had no existence before.
^ tliis is unfair. In harmony with the The tribunal, however, to which ni»peal is
prindplea which govern all the works of God, im'wt usually and ct^ifidently made is that of
titttind, no less than the other features, of './ft**/. It is notorion*, we are ti-ld, as by
1^ coostitution of man and of woman re- "SmioJ.*' that, with whatever d»'j;rce of
•l*ttiTcIy, whilst characterized hy a beautil'iil feasibility you may th'V»ri/.i', as a matter of
iintaTjare also dij;tingui.shed by p«'culiari- fact, women an. not mentally (-"inal to men.
plaited to the individual character and !»efore offering some re;isons f<ir rating these
Lie JDutiud relations of each. Tlieirditlcreuci's ' facts at a If'ss value than would otlierwisc
«J* those of working, rather than of e.«,-;ence. attach to th«':n. we will venture to dispute
•re do not contend that the chariot of intcl- , that, notwithstaudinc;: these reasons and their
1^ whkh, guided by man, flies so swiftly, ' grounds, the farts 'jr^/i/irsocomluMve .is they
ud reaches oft so distant a goal, shall pre- ; an* ailirmed to]>e. We have not lef^ ourselves
dee!y in the some manner pursue its course , tlnn- or space f<»r the details which might
vlwna feminine handholds the n ins: but we ■ otherwise be given. Without accepting the
CO conteod thiit the chariot is there — that | press — so often in similar controversies
the steeds Are as fleet and the wheels as ' appealed to — as a comjilcte .ind certain
l^nRrfnl: an*! that, although the track it . index of the current social mind, we think
f^kmji be di%'erse, then: is. nothing to hinder
the liame g,fMl being readied. All, as it
we could name tJiosc whose puhlhheJ works,
in history, jKjijtry, art, religion, and even
a§pun to us, that the adviH'utes of ^exl)al .?clcnce and nu'tnphysic^, demand for their
2 A
S98
X8 yfOUAX UMSTAhLT DIFXBIOR TO VAX ?
ftotboneiiM nicbM in tb« temple of frme of
ao Tomn. order; whilst we belieTo it would be
impoMiUe to estinute how jnncb clear, pure,
and health J thought is onoetentatiously con-
tributed to the aggtegaU by the female
ynytii^^ and how vtynch wc ^>«r« gpxne of the
luuab vi^viinitf mlud& that have enlig;nteu«.4
aiid luipxoted manlrtiid to the tinnotieed bat
7«w«rfn1 ^fgoar of inteTlert and sonndDC^
of judgmetat of (hose whose guidance was the
unseen spring of their greatness. Bnt It seems
to be sotfoel^ fair to appeal in the hiatter —
that iS| as exelairiTcfy->to ekSsting fact
Beudes the diversities before referred to, and
th« misconcqiiions to whieh tfaey may give
rise, h is only reasonable that tho wretched
degradation to which, for so many ages and
in so many qoarters, woman has been sob-
Jeoted, should be taken into account; and
that it should fmther be remembered that,
•▼en !n oiTiliMd Europe, the character of
female education has been the least calculated
to detelop the better and gteater energies of
the nrind. Sorely, when we contemplate the
pitiable mockfiry whieh has, till recently,
been dubbed ^female education'*--'the petti*
seises and peurHities of which it has been
made up — the sedolons but somewhat u»->
complimentary oonaideratenesB with which
all that is great in biowledge has been kept
out of their way, aa though beauty were all
the more beautiful for lack of brains*— is
short, the science which has contrived to
substitute as the complete idea of a " Isdy,**
for an iiitoUig«nt and thinking woman, a
well-bred dolt -tho wonder in the leBeciins
mind must be that any have been able to
emancipate themselves. A better feeling is
happily spreading, and woman is being
treated as something more than a piece of
waxwork, to be simply admired and amused ;
and with the spread of the feeling will be
the spread of the happiest results. Woman
must ever be less prominent than man : the
rules by which the intellect of tlie one and
the value of its manifestations are gauged,
can never be appHcable to those of the other ,
but no less will these latter have an influence
as great iu their sphere and as little estimable
in their fruits; no less will all that is great
and holy and beautiful in man largely and
widely owe its beio^ to her who is at once
the star of his darkest hotu* and the sunahine
of his sunniest day, J. S. J,
AyFIRMATirE ARTlCLE.-TlI.
It must be acknowledged that the qties-
tion upon which we are about to etpress an
opnion is one that is very difRcnlt of solu-
tion— the parties of whose mental constitu-
tion we are about to write are so diflerently
situate, their education Is, for the most
part, of so diverse a character, and the duties
that they are called to perform are so entirely
diseimSlar, that it requires more tlian an
ordinaty amount of dis6rtminatSon and care
to decide on the matter. In proof of the
ibregohig it is necessary to do nttle mote
than direct attention to the following con-
siderations ; —
The present relative Atate of the ee9:es is
no proof of tlidr nkitui«l inequality. Con^
Btd^ the state of the educsatlon of our fhnale
population, n^sn compeired with ihit oF the
msles. Girls are kept fro^ school by tbehr
parents on a varietf of pn^texts, for which
boys would not be kept. Hehee they 'do not
deir9T« Dear so taxMh n^aiAt> fttfm the
■diools irhkfh ftfs provided' ibr theiii as ibef
olhervrise ndght do, nor so tUtu^ as boys do
ftato. similar schools.
Then itnmst not be lost sight of, tliat
the schools wKch are provided for females
are in many respects nir inferior to tho^e
that are provided for boys. Many of the
teachers bf our large public boys' schooU
have had the advantage of a university edu-
cation, which none of the teachers of female
seminaries have had; while the male teachers
of other schools are, perhaps, equally in ad«
vance of those of female schools of the same
class.
If we consiiiler, further, tbe effbrta which
hare been put forth for the development of
tniud in youn^ persons, as mechanics^ instil
ttttcs, debating societies, fraternal as$ocia*
tiotts, and the like, we fitid that they have
been established and carried on with » vie^w
to the improvement of yOung men. The
benefit which women have derived from sucl*
eflbtts haVe been hlmost endrdy confined to
the books which thejr may have read fron>
the Hbrsries usually attached to such instil
ttitfons.
Now, whatevw tuay be onr Tiexra of
woman^ capadty wheii compared with tha^
TS WOM.VN lin!irrALLY IXFEKIOIl TO MAN?
299
^f nan, we cannot but deplore oitlur tlic
uttpr neglect with which her education has
I'ffli treated, or the flimsy character of the
iJucition which she has received. It is. in-
!>ei. to tlic credit of the sex that, tlioii-h
.•.Vama:!: nnder such dii^ad vantages, there
btt! Ufn found some who hav(« bci:n able to
"itnl the pen and f^ovcrn empire?. Thc^e,
lioTiver, have bnen exreptions to tlie ;.'riieral
nl?; an-l, wbi-n compared with similnr per-
'■^as of the other sex, we find them few and
ijs Utirern.
Aft#T reading the f-regoing it may easily
.X iKA^ried that we are not satisfied with
t^r method of deciding this question which
''osM compare the mental aohievcmcnts of
^WTrilh thoae of woman. If women were
*ta(d in literature, mechanics, or science,
t^tLeta:ue ex'.<7nt a<» men, it would not be
^'^m to draw the compai-ison, us " &noj "
*ii?rrttefi. A** it is, however, the cnsi! is
tntiwly different. It would be <iuite sm rca-
*ooab!e to suppose that an enjiiiiwr sl:<iuld
■■< abli- to overlook and numage the arrange •
•Q«D!4 of hia kitchen, as that hid wife should
inirstand his mechanical inventions. There
w tnothiT 50urr.'e of dilTicnlty under which
■yp Uboar in attempting to decide the ques-
*'jn befiwe us. We do not kn«»w the exact
'-^mt of intelligence which i^ displayed in
^ fiighost works of either men or wum«'n.
Pr-Aajj there is as much iutelligcncc dis>-
P«J«4 in tht» designing and execution of
^JOM exquisite pieces of needle or cruchct
*»l£« there is in the invention of many
t«*«s of macliinery. Xor is it fair to com-
I=are the utility of the one witli the utility
tf th« otlier, inasmuch as women liave, by
^^icatioo and cu.st'^m, been carefully shut
''Tit from works of utility beyond tho.^c of
J^ iitcben or the liouse. Again, pcrhjija,
littKjJ be unjust to woman to suppose that,
"*reae we have no long h&t of inventions in
clinics to which her name is attached,
^Wfore frhe is altogether devoid of me-
jbuical genius; for, jsuch is the kindness of
■^Ditnrc and the benevolence of her dispo-
^in, that it is more than probable that a
iJula^Ml or a brother has ofttimes taken
'•« en. lit of that which is rejtlly her own,
*We sLe has been ready to remain in her
"tfve (jb»cnritT, quite content if those whom
^ loTtd were honoured by the worhl, the
"I^U of th« creation," meanwhile, have
been perfectly ready to rise to fame on a
woman^s labours.
If, then, for the reasons already stated, we
cannot judge of woman's mental ability as
compared with that of man, by her labours
as compared with those of men, the question
is very naturally suggested, — How do we
arrive at the general conviction that woman
is inferior in meutiil ability to mau? Wo
answer —
Ibt. Woman was taken from man. This
circumstance, of itself, would ccrtauily not
imply superiority.
2n(l. Woman, from the time of the fall,
" at least," was placeil in a j)Osition of sub-
jection to man. ^k'e (.ien. iii. 16; 1 Cor. xi. 3.
Xow, it is customary for the weaker to be
phiced in subjection to the stronger, and not
tho stronger to tlie weaker. The very cir-
cumstance that (iod has placed tho woman
under huhjectiou apjiears to be proof of roan's
superiority in mental }iower. To suy that
man has gained aud retained his superiority
over woman through his greater piiysical
power is nothing to the purpose, for it is well
known that ///': ntoF pfnnr^ when associated
with jJti/sictif i>'t'dn' j*i*, is more than com-
petent to deal with jth/itftuiJ powtr when
associated with uuntnf irtakius^t.
3rd. This arrangement of the Divine
Ileing, as stated in scripture, is fully borne
out in nature. Kvcn in educated families
this may be «^cen in tho amount of deference
wiiich is jiaid by sisters to the opinions and
wishes ol' a bruiher, provided he has been
guilty of no moral drlinqueney, or is subject
to no mental disease ; by the manner in
which wtnnen generally defer to tlio opinion
of men in matters which do not belong to
their o\vn furtieular sphere of laUmr; aud
by the geni-ral wish of young women to have
some one up«in whom they can depend rather
than whom they ran rule.
If women sometimes meet >vith men who
are not mentally their equals, and whom, as
a consequence, they are obliged to rule, it is
not a matter of choice; they woiUd prefer,
generally, that tho husband should l>e ac-
kuowleJge«l suficrior to them iu mental
capacity, iu order that they might rejjose on
hi.s judgment rather tlun rule it. According
to tiia uaLund order of things, however, the
greater mind miust rule the less — the less
nmbt be ruled by the greater. U. M.
900
OUGBT VOSnCY TO BB DTTBimiC OB SYMBOUOAL?
:^Dlitri3,
OUGHT MONEY TO BE INTBINSIG OR SYMBOLICAL ?
INTRINSIC— lY.
I HAVE read with much interest the
articles which have appeared on both sides
o£ this debate, and I feel sare that they will
give jonr readers an intelligent view of an
important subject that is little understood;
at the ;ame time, I could have wished that
the writers had taken a wider view of the
question, and been more definitive in its treat-
ment. It may not, therefore, be out of
place for me, without entering into the heat
of the controversy, to offer some additional
information that may be of Interest to your
present readers, and render your work still
more valuable for reference on this subject.
The term " money '* is somewhat indefinite.
Mr. John Taylor, the author of an " Essay
on Money," says that the word maneta
signifies a token, being derived from monere.
He defines real moneys as " all those things
"which, in re turn for a sufficietU vuiucement^
are capable of being tramjen^d /ram one
person to another^ Mr. Cobbett contended
that only the precious metals can, strictly
speaking, be called real money; but Sir
Robert Peel added legal- tender paper.
Colonel Torrens has supplied a number of
valuable definitions on this subject that I
would commend to the thoughtful attention
of your readers: —
1. Money consists ci articles possessing
intrinsic value, and adopted by general con-
sent as the measure of value, the medium of
exchange, and the equivalent by the accep-
tance of which debts are liquidated and
transactions finally dosed. In all civilised
countries, the articles adopted as money are
the precions metals. The money of each
particular country consists of pieces of the
precious metals on which stamps are im*
pressed by the sovereign authority, certify-
ing that they are of a given weight and
fineness.
2. Paper money consists of instmmcnts
possessing presumptive value, and rendered
by law or custom measures of value, media
of exchange, and equivalents, by the aocep-
tance of wliich debts are liquidated and
transactions closed. The most perfiBct forms
of paper money are notes payable on demand
in the amounts of the preciooa metak which
they purport to represent.
3. The term "cironlation" denotes paper
money, which, under the existing law, con*
sists of promissory notes payable in specie
on demand, and uttered to the public by
banks of issue.
4. Currency is the term employed to
express the aggregate amount of coia and
circulation in the hands of the public
5. Auxiliary money oonsists of those
forms of credit by which money is economized,
and a given amount of cnrroncy made to
efiect a greater number of traasactkma than
could be effected by the same amount of
currency without their intervention. Abs-
iliary money is divided into depottita and
credits in the books of bankers^ checks
drawn against such deposits and credito, and
bills of exchange ^d other n^otiable instru-
ments promising to pay in coia or notes
specified snms at future periods.
6. The term, *' media of exchange," com-
prises metallic money, paper money, and
auxiliary money — circulation, deposits,
credits, and bills of exchange.
Colonel Thompson gives a wider definition
to the term currency, as being ** anything
which the inhabitants of a ooontry are in
the habit of handing from one to another as
the instrument of purchase and exchange^'
and in this sense it is generally osed.
As others have already obserred, various
articles were used as m<»iey in primitive
times, but many of them were destitute ot^
those qualities of invariability of Tsdue^ divi-
sibility, durability, facility of tnuoaportation^
and perfect sameness, which moat hav<^
formed the reasons of all oiviUxed oomma^
nities employing gold and silver as nnoney^
At first, gold and silver would be ikakeo t^
market in a rough state, and certain, ^uan^
tities would he given for certain aHlclesl
thus we read ^ Abraham weiffhrn^ foui
hundred shekels of silver, and g^iviog then
OUGHT MONEY TM KK IXTKXNSK* nij SYMBOLICAL ? 301
^=3 i>.tc|ian;rc ftjr a piece of pnmnd jmrcliaseJ now th.'it tliu prutliictivcncss of the mirips of
'•' >nithf iKtns of lletli, Gen. xxiii. 16. As California smj Australia lius dfinonttnitcd
^- .Tiai-ntv. incre.ved, the trouble of wciiiliinir tlio futilitv of this, w»* are told hv some that
^--•: in*tal in every exchange wonM .^o.m ' this pn*.liictiv«iKs.s will materially alter the
'■ - ftlt. ao well as the ditticnlty of decidin;: price of p'»M, and serini^ily derange the
5^"^ tu it* purity and con-sc-juent value, and rel.iti'jnshijis of proi»crty. '!'•» such we com-
^* vjx, in procesys of time, the invention of nn'ud the following; recent remarks of the
* Iiir:;:. or markinj:, each piece with a gtamji Thif^: — '*( ;o!d ctm^titutes the peni'ral mea-
^ X'iirinir its weicrUt and fineness. .sure of price, and is tlierefcire the only thin;:
in the earliest pericjds, after the inven- that Ins not a price of its own. It is
• ^inofwritin?, pecuniary cnfra;;ements would sinijily receivable at the rate men'.ionod;
■^* c-.-mmilte 1 to paper. A hhort time only that is to say, when one man talks of owing
^tnVl riapse. U-fore indiriiluaU havin:; writ- another £.'i iTs. 9d., he means that he owes
t-'n enca<rements from others, would bfjin him an ounce of gold. To speak literally of
'■• rawtut them in pnymcnt to their debtors, money price of pold is just .ns if a i>er.soii
Xj2* would object to receive as money the were to a-^k how much tea he mu-st give for
iT-.~-«:y.vy note of a man of known wealth, a |Hmnd of tea.*'
•^ai l»Rce the origin of symbolic monr-y. Tims many and various are the consider.i-
Tli(« who advocate money jmssessing an ti«>ns whicli belong to the discnssion of a
iotrbiic Talae, do not object to the n*«e of a question like this, and thnu;jh much may be
^•inittd paper currency as supplementary to saiil against our jiresj-nt sy.stem, yet remem-
■•' aoetallic one. Our opponents may cry out berinu the melancholy proofs which history
'•n OUT behalf. "Gold! gold! nothing but snpj»lies of the dangers and difliculties
"oHl" but they do it nnaathori^etlly. J. If. arising from tamyiering with the currency of
-iiay amuse himself by recommending t1i.it a country, 1, for one. would oppose any
^ ni^Tchant having a thousand jwunds change unless the necessity could be shown
to wcrive, shouM be followe<l by a clerk to be pn-at, and the utility to be ondent.
^th a wheelbarrow; and we have only to This deter miiiati'Mi I more strongly hold
''-'Id that he who suggests the plan should when I find ]H.'rhaps the greatest of money-
r*t^ the Ubour; and certainly it would symbolizers, Dr. Franklin, living long enough
•*« nay suitable emp1o}'ment for '* a man of to change Itis o]iinion, and to di'clare to
:''CTtti," as our friend eviilently is! jiosterity, **lam now convinced that there
'•» of the princijial ol'jrctions to gold are limits l>eyond which paper money would
^-''-iaeiwed for money, was its scarcity, anil . be prejudicial." Scbutator.
SY-MD'lLlCAL.— IV.
All "icnefal ruh', the value of commodities the future pn'mannith/ fix^tf standard ; for a
^^ ittmnined by the amoimt of labour vx- standard that reipiires "adjusting" cannot
I-TiW in thoir production and di.-tribution. b-r a onTvct standanl. If it be one thing
HiHj irhv not make labour (which thuN t(vdav and another to-morrow, how can it
^^ TAlue to all commodities), instead of always be an exact measurer of value r
S^ f which is only one commmli^y), the Take, then, the j/nst-nt v.ilue of the ]v>und,
I'iiadard cr measure of value? ^Vhy not as mea.sured by the present value of some
^K notes which shall represent an amount one dtscriplinn of labour, and let this be the
^ IiliQur equal in valne to the money dtno- future unchniiffeahk pound sterling, whatever
"■•tioii pot upon them, and thus prevetit the future changes in labour or comniodities;
''j* parter or les«5w/»/»f<(y of one commodity and, although labour or commodities then
^'M) fmm affecting the ralue of cverjthing might rist*. or fall in jirice, it would not be
*>** This might be done by fi.xing upon from alterations in lli« currency, but from
^'Df certain quantity and description of alterations in the quantity or ^tiIuc of labour,
'•fcoWfthe ^^weni value of which is equal to or in the commodities themselves. The cur-
tbepiffeiit pound sterling, or sovereign, and ivncy would only show that their then value
■Vwitnting it for the existing standanl of was so much above or below tlieir value in
5d»ta. 3-274 gnins of gold, and making it 1S5-, when the currency was settled. Wti^X.
309
OVGltT -StOmr to BB XSTIUSIHIC or SniBOOCAL?
I propooe, titerefttey'ls, tkat the poaod stor-
Img •hall teptmat the Tahw cif a oertsiii
^iuaajt}r ind deiorintkni of iaboar at tAe iime
^f^ httig bemgjueeif not that it ivoiild or
eonld be made ilmsyn to npnMOt the pre-
cise Talueof th^tt exact qoantity and dcscrip*
turn of Iaboar under mtaej fatara change or
aspect of that labon.
Sappose, then, we were to say that the
present average Tahie of noskiUed nuiniial
labour is. 2s. per day-^en hono/ iabour to
the day« This Aippositiaii wonld serve weU
for a diedmal tyettm ef omtency^ if a deGiiaal
system should be theaght preferable to the
present, ibr the poand sterfiiig would then
be the reprtoentatiifB of the present average
▼alne of tun days' uuhilled manTsil labear;
the tmUk of A ponnd, or d florin, wodd be
the lepresentatiTe of the present average
Talne of one day^ n&shflled mantial Ubonr;
and the htmdmUkot a poond, or tlie t€nth of
a florin (or about 2^d. of the proseBt oohi-
age) wonhl be the representative of the pre-
sent avenge Tahis of <m kour's nnakilled
nuuinal hhoatt &o. Thns the ** pound in
aoeount" would be a tangible pound, and not
an abstraet teim having no definite meaning
or foundation at all. And the superiority of
such a pound over, the pound Ibuaded on or
convertible into gold woakl be, that thfr cui^
iBDoy wonld then be dependent npon -no one
particular coomodity f^r quantUy or vatoe,
but might bemads peiftcUyfixedAnd steady
in price, and idwnys procurable in «{nantity
or amount to ^ait the exact- wants and
necessities of the people under erraiy .pfave
or emeigency of trade or eommeroe. But
fi)r the better aeoomplishmeni of this ptr*
pose, and for the national instead of individual
benofit, a national -bank of issue on|^t to be
established, whioh should be the onfy bank ef
MOM (eace^ its tenndicsf for convenienoe),
and ^oaH be entirely free finm alt jmH^
oontml in the'SMangemeat of ita issues, so
that there ml^t ■ be no ^ tampeting " with
theeorvenoy. All«ciBt|nKlsgaI.tsnderoar-
leney should be called in, imd tbe^ national
notes made* the onfy fogal»>tender onmncy
fl>r the Aicwe, efeotpt anuill «nn:enc9a ilad,
in Older that thsne may be no altsnKbion in
the present poMhaaing < or ^ legal tttniir-viabn
of money ^ lAe cAnh^'j^eiesHftini; natknal
notes should be given in eaohange*te exisii-
ing legal^ender eufrSnc^,'. at :eqnal vafeoe.
7be notes thus issned inenehn^ge Ibt.eniet-
ing legal*tender ouneney should form the
gmndwodc or body of the new peeulatian,
er that amount or portion of the new cirecH
latioB whieh the every-day wnntaand neees*
aitiea of the people would requiie to be
ooMstantly afloat. AU additimuil issnes of
nationaindtes should be dependent upon the
legitimate deooands orrequireaMnta of trade
or commerce, and shoi^ be suppBed in
quanti^ in ezaet aoeosdance. with tfaase
denwmdw, whether that quantity he glenter
or less; or in other words, as yonr oar-
xespondent J. fi. phrases it, " they ehonld
increase with production and diaappear with
consumption.'' To do tins ca'i'ertfy the
hank of issne ought to issue ita aUra or
fiddtHamil notes only Iqr diacoontiog^ good
bomdfide or gennine billa of eschnade, and
only where nuffieint or astis&etaiy cAaieral
security is a£Rarded^<^thanatuni anddeaeri^
ticn of security aeoeptable -to- he wcfi and
clearly define^^snd the rale cf dsaooBttt^ an
uniflirm or fixed mte, say the prsssnt iBini«>
mum rate of the Bank of En^aad^ or SI per
oenti per annum.
Thus the quantity of money afloatcvnmUl
always exactly adapt itself to. thn EcalveaiitB
and neeeasitieB of.thepcoph» and thn akafie of
trade and- oommeroe^ When more? money
was wanted, aa commerce e^spided or faMiB
beeanto doe, more 'bills would be ■^•f'"— rtml
at the natiemil bank of iastts' or its hnnclws,
and when less was wanted ^wer hilla woold
be discoaated* The mira ieitaes^ef tlsa
national bade would, thersfiire, simply he a
snbstitntien of cash, er legaVtendsr money,
for btUe of ean;hange ; conscqtnntly,. ilwre
ootid be* no danger of over'Or exocesiveiiannaa
taact injorionaly upon the earRn^'aa bills
of exohange (vpon which ithA«(ttia mtoms
would be baaed) am tiiemselvea JegitiaaaCe
conencyy being ealled iqte OKiatenee hry tibc
state of prodnctiett and the-actaaLdenaaadls
of trade and Dommetce. > Bnt<aa^ Cran ■ tbaar
veiy nnkam, th^ axe not adapted* fir i^gid^
tender cnxtenoy, a snbstitnte for thatparpo^p
ia reqnirBd, which shall beeqaa% as- banxa-
less m itaefiect'Upon the -geaeral^qaaatity
sad valoe of naoD^, aa vM aa ha railways
available' or praeuaUe-npea aaSonB >teaiia ;
and this I oensidef would he aeeom]diala««l
by a naUjf aalibna/ bank isaaing BOfcaB» \ty
way of diaeoant, on. good,; gamto lulls of'
«aoh«Dge, as above. Far&ot fresdam oC
dealing and banking in the national
OUGHT MU:(Rr TO UE INTRINSIC OU SYMBOUaVL ?
aai
on^lit, of course, to be permittdl, ao thnt
nauf night f;et properly and tlioroii^hlj
didiuHl anioDg&t tba pi*op]e, ami that tJioiic
Vfld might not liavc tiie requisite means
to obtiin it from tJie national :>(jur('e of ipsw
dirrct, mi^ht obtain or pnji'ure it tlirou^h
the iostnimentalitv of others. ^loreovur, fr)r
tusatisiaction and convenience of the public^
AS well as a detective check or security
tgiiobt firand or forgery, the national notes
ebooid all be ** cmvertiblc*^ at the national
buk or its branches, not into gold at a fixed
pcice on demand, bnt in livu thereof, from
hrpft to smaller amounts, or from smaller j
to \ve^, at the will uf the holders. With
Back a system of currency and issue ^old
nB)^t be left as free us any otlier commodity
to ^ its own natural price in the markets
CI liie world; but, nevertheless, the certainty
^rith wlucU its comparative purity and ^e-
Boiiiosets can be ascertained by the skill of
tiie aauyer, and, conseijueutly, its nal inar-
i'ctable value known, mi^ht still point it out
^ a necessazy and useful instrument in
l^Iiscing forei;;n exchun;;es, until a better
m: more convenient medium could be agreed
ap« tod adopted.
fist let me here renmrk, that, with a cor-
net lyrtem of aynAolic currency, it is of
&de cooBcqucnce v:hat is adopted as the
tiirfmf for the currency, providud it bo of
tls wmt real and exchangeable value at the \
^flf iti adoption; for it is not the nature
^9Henid of the »Uit¥ktr(Jf but tke moJa of
^ tod the conventltnuU raltie conferretl '
^M tht currency bi/ makinff it the legal
*■*»•, that gives to it thaljixit^ of price so
*Mal in a measure of value. This doc-
^ loay aoem somewhat new; bnt, not- <
vitbtanding, I consider it the trne one. ',
^ difference in value betwixt gold and
Vda, dnring the period of the late wars, I
^ Bot attribute to a depreciation of pa])cr
* oolca, but to an o/ipreciation of gold,
*^ta tht **iDconTertibility " of notes (and
Oui^nnt conTcrsion of gold into a coni-
Miidity), mided to the then extreme scan-ity
tf 9Bid M compared with the demand fur it:
IJM'ineMiTertibility" of notes was all that
^ omidered a necessary step to provide
*»riBpiBKy of coxrency for carrying on the
^liiif of tbe coontr}'. Neitlicr do I con-
sider the then geaerally increased prices of
fndi to hate been produced, to any con- !
ftdeabit extent, bj the mere fact of the j
''incouvertibility" of the currency (and tho
possible "cxiwnsioa" thereby created), but
inaiiil^ by the enormous sums spont in carry-
ing on the wjirs, which added so oxtensively
to consumption and demand, without a cor-
rchpoiiding increase in sopply. As soou as
these eu'innuus .sums ceasefl to be spent,
tnide collapsed, and prices fclL And this
would still havo been tfa«^ case, ultimately,
had the cm-rency remained unaltered. But
the alteration of tlic currency coming at or
near tho same time as tlie collapse, the
alteration of the currency has got all the
blame (though undeser^'edly) laid at its
door. By tbe cxtraordinar}' demand for
commodities abuvo supply, created by the
wars, prices had increased beyond their
natural level. Tlie reaction was, tliereforr,
inevitable, sooner or later. It will hence be
seen that I am not of that school of currency
refunners who think that taxation can Im*
added to price, by the issue of what they call
'* taxation notes." With a legitimate system
of muiiey issue, the prices of commodities
must always bo governed or regulated by
cotit, supply, and demand. The *' taxation"
Iirinciplv of issue I consider a fallacious one,
inasnmch :is I can see no essential difference,
in rt'siKJCt to the effect upon jMrices, betwixt
a certain sum of money issued by tho state,
and taken back in payment of taxes, and the
same sum i^aucd by, or procured from, tho
Bank of England, or any other bank, and
returned to it by the state, as taxes are
received. If the amount of " taxation "
luoney annually to be issued by tlie state
were not to be called m, but allowed to remain
n^Mit^ and the yearly additions to its amount
l*^\ to atxitmulate in the country, then I
admit that *uch "taxation" money mmld
affect the prices of commodities, just the
same as did the annual issue and funding of
large amounts of exchequer bills during the
late wars. But tho constant accumulation
of the notes is not what tlie advocates of
'' taxation** money propose. Therefore, see-
ing that the profcsed object of issuing
** taxation" notes, viz., that of adding taxar
tion to tlic genend prices of commodities, ia
incompatible with the means proposed for its
nccomplisliment, I am at a loss to know what
other ailvantages can be specially derived
from that mode of issue. ' If it be sought to
r&luce tho burden of the notional d^t, so
that the present real value of the intereat of
304
IS THE CONFI'ISSIOSAL IN HARMONY WITH IKTKLLRCTUAL
that debt maj more nearly correspond with
the real value of that interest when the debt
was contracted, there is a more simple and
effectnal waj of attaining that object. For
instance, the minimum rate of interest at the
Bank of England has ran;;ed, within the laat
few years, from 2 to 8 per cent, per annum.
The national creditors have, through all
these changes in the value of money, been
con8t.intIy receiving the same fixed sum as
interest upon their debt. If, therefore, the
national debt be a money debt, and the price
of money should hereafter be permanently
Jixed^ what is there to prevent the national
debt being then made to correspond in value
with money ? that is, to have the same interest
allowed as the national money would then
be worth at the national source of issue.
The national creditors have hitherto enjoye«l
the full advantages which inventive skill
and ingenuity have exercised in diminishing
the money value of all descTiptions of goods
and produce since the debt was contracted;
conseqnently, although the interest of tht*ir
debt might be tiominally reduced by the
above process, its real value would be as
great, or probably even greater, than when
the money was lent. And what injosUce
could tliere be to the national creditors in
giving them the same, or it might be even &
greater, real value than that which was
originally contracted for? It must be borne
in mind that, under the circnmstsnces sup-
posed, the value of their debt wonld not then
have to suffer from fluctuations in the qnan-
tity or price of money itself, the price of
j money, at its source*, being then Jited.
' I will now conclude by stating that I think
j the establishment of a gooil sound system of
symbolical currency would be the miist effec-
tive remedy for the present state of thtn^
in Australia. What is the physical and
moral value of a few paltry tons of gold,
comparod with the disruption of society, and
the breaking up of all the regular soarces of
wealth and industry in the country? If
gold were "disfranchised** there would not
be the same inducement for deserting other
and more important callings for that of dijr-
ging gold. Its price would be less certain,,
and the market for its sale more doubtful.
C. E. R.
Inrinl (£rnunini[.
IS THE COXFESSIOXAL IX HAKMOXY WITH INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL
FREEDOM OR SOCLA.L WELI^BEIXG ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
No institution of the Roman Catholic
Church is more cherished than tliat of Con-
fession. It is to this that the church is
indebted for ite boasted unity; but if any
other church, purer and more Iil>eral in its
principles, were adopting this as one of its
tenets, defection from the mother church
would immediately ensue. The fierce oppo-
sition given to the Episcopal Church in Ire-
land arises from this — it lacks the power to
forgive sin. Did it possess the pr>wer of
absolution, it would be popular. Auricular
confession dates its introduction from 1215.
Pre\'ious1y public confi'ssion was the only
admissible form; but the affluent, that their
character and their status in society might
not be compromised by discreditable rcvcla-
tiODs, were ^nnted the privilege of ccnfcssing
privately. This more agreeable mode broii|^
with it a lar^e accensiim of influence to th*
church : the clergy, ever alive to the iaterett*
of that, had it a«iopted generally. It was
ratified by Innocent III., at the date abort
quoted. The requirements of confnsion art
— sorrow for sin, oHifession to a |Mrieet, the
performance of the penance adjudged: itt
puqK«e is — the reconciliation to God of inch
as have becon>e alienated by sins committed
subsequently to biiptism. The Rer. Stpphn
Keenan (a I{<iman Catholic divine), in tbt
"Controversial Catechism," p. 186; mya:—
" The penitent, to be absolved, matt dttetH
hit sins; he must be finnly reBoIved 1oetn«rf
$in and its occasion* in future; lie most be
williny to submit to whatever pennncs fk$
priest impobcs; and, if able, be Duet €9mfiM
A9D mOtLAJ4 FttEKDOM OS SOCIAL WVLL-BEntG ?
305
<ffi»«av,-* Md, at Ik 185, Hi7<^~-'"rii6
f pflMUKt -was Institttted for the
if aot eemniitted aftw httpUsm."
£i«7 flidifidnl if bound, under pain of
oemmmmBttkKkj to Appear at the trihanal
^famot al least onoe a year; bnt monthTy,
aadcmmeeUf, aiafcaawua arereoommended
MMw—i itariow; and paieiits are ordained
io uaiibmt ehfldrai io aoon aa theee can
«^Mnktireenri|;litaDdvrong: thia&cnltj
■^oes maihe to them abont their serenth
7«v; tfe clnirch haa tfaos i(e members nnder
iti ffihwt ftam tiie moat imprevible period
IVailmtB are i^qniRd to acctue themeelreB
efafl nnta] siDS eeoraitted unce their pre-
*i<o OBBkeaan, beginning with the more
fom fiisi. Tbe^ nraal be very specifSe
3 ftor aelf-acBOiatioDi, embracing crery
^■vty of tm, aand narrating erery ooncomi-
^dronoataaee, cspedanj snefa as tend to
^S^avate the gaflt of the rin. ** If* says
^ fier. Jeaeph Cnrr (m his mannal —
"Famliar Isatraetio» in the Faith and
&rifity ef the Catholic Chm«h*), »a
?eutat omti one mortal sin in oonfes-
BOB, or one about which he even doubts
^ther it be mortal or not, hb eonfeasion is
^ and BaeiiiegiouB;'' and the Rev. Mr.
K^nan, before quoted, says, — *^ The priest is
i i'adge who mnat decide what sins he ought
t» fir^rt and what he ought to retain : now,
'"^ i*^ can pronoonoe a decison without
^*^i3^ the whole caae." Should penitenta
^<<itite, cHher finm timidity or from bash-
'sbeH, to detafl their transgressions circvm-
stistiaDy, the father conftssor, skilled in
^nt ■■liianj, cmL gwwiilly eztMt the oon>
crtMas, if not by entrapping ^esthms, by
^^n^tf apiriMal tarvon; fhb acoompKshed,
f^triliBB fzpmaed, admoidtkm Katened to,
u4 peMace pitacribed, absolution is granted,
»d the paiMDt wMidraivft, fafady beUcTing
^nsftfgfveii.
' nxn the drnmstaoDoe that the penitent
s^^iniuthatnniofltaMtfatsofhfBaeulto his
^ Afeaanr— 4hat he dd|gnB to sue for salvatton
t^na|h Ua agency, although a man impotent
» hauaelf «frt> we thtek, induce a ser-
^j of nriad dianetrieally opposed to intel-
^aetoal a»d SMral frseddm. YH^ to a man
^ that dHnHStcptbe adBemnti ei the noman
CatbaCa drarcii tn commanded to intrust
^bnr RpvAanoB^ fln on hta gmneusnees to
battfd tMIr hogtB^ eCaroal life. We say
hazaTd; for it must erer be remembered that
the efficacy of absolution, even aA,er an un-
resenred confession, depends entirely on the
oonfesBor; it matters not that the person
confessed is of the most irreproachable cha-
racter, meritorious in cTeiy respect, if, when
pronouncing absolution, the confessor hare
not the intention of securing grace for the
pemtent, the confession has been of none
effect. Of all despotisms, the despotism of
the confessional is the most degrading, as by
it the dependence of the sinner for mercy is
transferred from God to man: it is, indeed^
absolutism in perfection, when the fickleness
of a priest can exclude from the joys of £m<»
manners kingdom.
It may be asserted that secrets confided to
priests dare not be divulged. This fact does
not, however, remove the evil. A man, on
confession, must feel as if filched of his
equality. This feeling priests are at no pains
to lessen, but arrogate to themselves a proud
superiority— a superiority no less than that
of being the vicegerents of the Omnipotent.
Confession is inimical to the wholesome self-
respect of individuals. It is an institution
which in no way exerts a salutary intellectual
or moral influence either on priest or penitent \
for, while it gives a fictitious ascendency to
the one, it detracts from the common man>
hood of the other.
The Romish clergy being celibates, not
from choice but from compuhnon, it is quit»
apparent that the power they wield is liable
to abuse: to expeot unwavering virtue under
the cbtimstanoes would be to suppose them
endowed with a superhuman morality. We
must bear in mind that priests, although
robed in canonicals, are nevertheless inheritors
of human frailties, and as such fall before
the like temptations with other men. They
are the victims of a system which imposes
on them unnatural restraints, and which, at
the same time, subjects them to an ordeal
to which the severest austerity is often un-
equaL
The confessional inflicts irreparable injury
on man*s mora! nature. The majority arq
fttft vtdous, as is assumed at that tribunal.
In the process of eliciting the penitent's
delinquencies, vices are rehearsed offensive
to the commonest ddicacy, and on these
especially, in every phase, axtful and insinu-
athig fntefrogatoncs are put, for the avowed
purpose of oMaining an ''honest, fair confess
906
IS TRB OOITFBSBIOKAL XST HARKONT 'WITH imrBLLBOTUAL
aifio." As a ptrtineDt iUnstntioa of the
qaestiimi proposed, we quote • passage finom
tbe " Poor Man's MsaiuJ,'* a OatJiolio book
of dsrotwns, which we dianced to dip into
while in ths hooK of odq of the *'£uthlal**
the other daj. In justice to ocvselveswe
must saj* we bad some sompUs anoat trans-
fening this passage to the pages of the Bri*
tiih CotUrawHrnaiiMt: we preTsiled npon otuv
flelfts to do so only by the thoof^t that the
intelligent reader wonld perceiTs we were
animated solely by a wish to phwe this sab>
ject in its tnui Ught The passage ooonrs in
the seetion lefecriog to Preparation lor Con«
fessioQ. On tbe sixth commandment (onr
scnren^) ive are to emniiui ooeselTes as to
whether we hsAre ** Taken pleasure in nndiaste
thoughts or desiresyor in tne sight of immodeit
oljects; f^nented immodest pkys; ntterad
or ready or glTen ear to or not hinderedi im*
modest wo^s, Tenes, disooorses, bookS) or
iODgs ;'.tonclied myself or otbers,orkisaed them
imohastely ; committed adnlteiy, or any other
imparity.** Kow, we submit that this veiy
piactiee most vitiate the mind*— must intro^
duce it to the knowledge of nees pnriously
imthosc^toC Webarenodoobt that the first
Snmodest tbonghtS'-cslcnlsted powerfbUy
to inftosnce the chaiaotei^-^which ooenr to
many a young psmon may be dated from the
oonfesskmaL The questions are snggestivB of
the very thoughts, tad wwdS| and acts, which
ostensibly they are meant to aappreas. It is
not to be aapposcd that iirterr^^ens sodi
aa these, addressed to yooth under the
accompanying solemnitias of pisice,. psraan,
and cizcnmitance, will readily be fbsgotten.
No; the impression left will be indalible— •
wiU be retained in the acmory, and pqpodend
over, till thoughts ok a kindM charaoter
beoQine habitual to the mind.
From childhood to seniJity, all muat sub-
mit to oenitHtton: the youngest am duly
CKsmtned as to indiscretiottB of the blood;
and, aooepdag to tMr yeaiS) tlniraaaSns-
tions become msve and more- HiieMit, no
matter whether the penitent to malt or
female; even married life enjoys ne immu*
nities item theos execnble examiflsUaiiB ^ the
insatiate oenfcssor, with a painfnl interest,
still perseveres in his nagvadoaseffloes. We
can scarcely permit ourselves :to venture
another quotation from these ,dsfotional
works. In the "Familiar Instructions,'*
already quoted^ Mr^ Gurr imptewia on tbe
minds ef manied penitents ** That tin debt
of maniage, which each one owes to ^ other ,
cannot, without just cause, be lawftdly re«
fnsed, and that the party so tefonig is an-
swerable to Qod fbr whatc^rer eS nuiy
ensue finro. it,"'-«-vety, pcoperly leaving IIm
justnsss of the oauM to be detsrmined by
the confessor. Tbe prufient oufieflity of the
priest is gratified by prf ing into the llbtav
timsm of his parisht be seems to czperience
an ungodly delight in listening to detailc>d
reoitsls of lieentumneis. I^ ony one
doubtfol of tfaas, psnise a> ibw of their
devotional waka, espeaaUy the oeotiena re*
ferring to confiessbn, sod we are satisfied h«
will be disgosted with the melange of piory
and obscenity to bo foond. If afterwards he
chooecs a noie minnta inoestigation^ let him
perase any of their Institates of tbeolo^,
and ho wdll condudo that no system eonld
be desnsed better cahmktsd to defile the
floindB of both confeaser and cmiftided.
We have sbpwn that tiio rmnfaasinnBl i
not in harmony with either tetaUectml <v
moral £reedomi that it Ss not in koraioQ;
with social welkbeing nequMtily foliowi
We haTC only finvtiter to tomsikt that man
aotkms, being gamned l^- bio beNoT, t>
Boman G«thollo.wi|l be OMHpMsttdraty tu
sompolooB, seeiog tiiat he beliewoo kU mi
to be csnoelled by the abMlitioa wbi«di fc
lows confiesaion and the pevfortnaneo o< i
penance ptesciibed.
ATFIKBfATITB ARTIOL^.^I.
It cannot, X think, but affiwd aatisiaotioB
to emy sinoeri iirteodel tmth| tomark with
what cOQSistMicy yon centimio yonr. efibrts
to plaoe your seadess in 'apposition to pso*
nonnce an inteUigent- terdici npoa.evcfy
important dootrina and practice respecting
which there eziits 4b div^eraity o£ opimen.
Hono (an. mgidaBly pemse year jnagazins
without gaining mncb initniction jboA ba\ i
many pecjudices dispelled; and I- ImMy h<
that it will bO' Ihus.witii i asp art to
disonssian of thp. eenfaasiimal, vpoai wb
we mn abont to cntwo.' I haare no^obt t
maay cf yonr. readers .ragard thin fnalitui
with iediisga of disUks, end evoa dotestati
but this, I^ventsnto assert, io on acoc
A9J>! MOiUXi mSSDOM Oa 80CUI< WSLL»BBIllO ?
sa7
dthek joftiftl nfonmtMD w teil* wockiDgt,
ssd Uie dirfmrting vadiim thnmgb wUch
dialialbnBktioaliMbeflitnocftfcd. IwmiU,
t!tereSoni|CWBMUj flBtroftl tiiem fta m6§Bvmx
la buuhjfVeoMemd and pf^dicMl notions
ffijcn tbek mMs <w4 to cone to tlu oon*
^&a9&mf€ ihin Mttjyt wiUift trao acleetie
f«fii^ fDiparad to
" Sdee ^pm tralh where'er 'tis Ibun^.**
Thb ^wootif* o£ tJie oottfeoaiaui bdiere St
in boiBrioitttatioDoC tbochnffdi of God, and
iU fhinn to this bonoor nftiut be txamxned
^jdan wm K^tfd it ia ibiaodal beariugi.
Tbe etmfymcm oi tin *«>« a dntjr onjoiiied
Eader the Jmkk di^pflnsBtion. The liigfa
prie9K,aitt)^leMiflfc9cpbitioD,inada6aDfeiidaii
t»God in Ij^ name of aU tbepiople; and tiw
lesfk jiaetiwd fionfonioa as a pononal
lifiiy, as.i^psaiv ixom Kmnben t. 6: —
' lilm « BiaA oBiroinaD shallbave committed
t^ d aQ tba sIba that men ara wont to
cssmlt^ an4 |j n^liggiioe shall hare tians-
STWid the ooaB&aadmoit of the Lord, they
khsB nwffrii their jia and xeetore the prinN
u{4]^ flidL a iiik part ever and aboTe.*
^ Agam, thta dn^ was enjoined in later times,
ix «e ind tiM Toysl Soko^ deolariBg that
"^ He that hidftb hia aina ahaU not prasperj
l^ he that shall aonfesa and forsake them
eiUa ohtaia WjBTjg/' Pn^^ sniTiiL IS.
So ^. fiwn tUa Uw being abeogated Uj
Chriitji^i^.m find John the Baptist^ tifas
^ffnaasr^oor Saviotar^ haptiziag.tiie snol-
tkDdciii^igeiifeitiat fio hear hin^ on their
reeaivflig U».word and " confeiwting their
fiMi" end maqy of ^ apostles haire giTen
'^ ItefiQipMti heth by snuaple and precept.
We fad S|», Janes, asying^ '*CoafepB year
^Buesets-oaqtheiyaad prayfov OBeanothekv
<^ J«aam9 ^ nkxadf"* and thna teachmg
M tbst At sqafeMtsndf cac sina lk» waa is
*««ditistt«C«akatioa. Agpin^ we read ni
i Jife I4^i—f* It we ssy that we ham up
^ ve deceiTe oorselTes, and the tmth is not
a ^ If ve confess onr sins, Qod ja fai|hf«l
^ jiat to fingiTe as onr sms, and to cleanse
« fina aU vsnghtsoosnos.'^ This testis
yyiaaa Atoag.ssidclear for tht nqc^tj
y cmfessiig aar ains^ Ihai onr adTBrsaiies
^^ na-«tfaer. way^.to asci^ the fives of it^
^ if' faialy pstfteodmg that ^la apostle
^ Gad^alauu.. Bat tbati^hiacsMt he tiie
'9«tie*a BMsnmg is evident lerdwo ttrsng
nasons ; &at, beoanse tfte oo^fesMinp our Mht
khere pat in qipositioo to the soyjnj^ fM AcNW
ao dm these two are opposite to one another,
aid therefore nnist certainly rshite to the
same okject. Now, who is tbare ia his senses
that w(»ild seriously dare to say to God, la
private, that Ac Aaf«M>nnf la this part ef
the sentence, then, the apostle certainly means
saying, we have no tm before fMn; and, oon-
seqimtJy, in the opposite part of it, when he
says, ^ If we confess onr sins," he neoessarily
mesna the doing so ie/brefiieaaZio. Besides,
the apostle here declares that, if ** w« confess
oar sins, God is fiuthfol and jnst to forgive
ns onr sins.'* How comes the fidelity Mid
justice of God ta be engaged heref Has he
anywhere engaged his promise to pardon
those who eo&ss their sins to him atone in
private? David, indeed, says, **I will con-
fess against myself my injastice to the Lord :
and thon hast forgiven the wichednessof my
sin," Psa. zxxii. 5 j whioh shows that, in the
old law, when a sinner '* \dtb a biakea and
contrite heart," that is, with perfect rqwn«
lance of his sins, retained to God, and ao*
knowledged his guilt with sorrow, God, of
his mfinite goodness, wonld show mercy te
snch a repentant sinner. Bnt we do not read
anywhere that God ever engaged his fidelity
or justice to fi>igive the sins of any who eon«
leased them in private to him alone; oonse-
(^aentlyyin the above teat, the apostle cannot
mean the ofiafiBsring to God alone; but, from
what WW have seca above, it is manifest that
(iod has soleaudy engaged his fidelity and
jnstiee to forgive the sins of thoso who con-
fes&them ta the psstota of his church in the
saotament of penance, when he declares to
these pqstses, **■ Whesa sins ye shall forgive,
tbejare forji^en; and whatsoever ye aball
loose on earth shall he loosed in heaven*"
The afEsots of tJns pratnise cannot be ob-
tained) as wa have olAady seen^ anless the
ainoer oonfks hia ains to his- pastor; and
when he does that with the proper dispo^
silipnsi thea^this sacred promise of Jesus
Christ engages him, in fidelity and justice^
to grant the wisfaed^fbc pardon.
The eanlMonal being thus aatvoimded by
Bamanyscriptnml sanations^ w« shall not be
smprised that it has ever beeaiegarded by
tha chai^h as a lehadnel appemted by God
thmnf^ wiodi' then grate'of juMifl«itiMi
ibwssinta t|ia simiei% said* I am aware
that some assert'that th« aohfeesiooal i^only
808 IS THE COHnEBSaOHAL IH HABlfOirT WITH nCTELLBCTITAL FKBBDOM ?
an institatioii of the thirteenth eentniy; but
this onlj shows their igoonBce of htstoiT',
ortheirwilfaliniBiiiterpratatioiiofit. Itieonlj
neceanry fior iia to cite ooe or two witnesses
to put Uiem to stlcooe; and, first, we have
one whose name will be received with
reterence bj all — the Tcnerable Bede^ who
flourished in the aerenth oentoty. We hear
him aayingi-^^AB to oar light aina, they
maj be forgiyen by confessing them to onr
neighboiir,and by their praying for w; bat
if we are stained with impurity, or infected
with a leprosy of great sins, we mast, ac-
cording to the laws, confess these to the
priest; and he most perform the expiation
according to his will, dnring the time and in
the manner which he shall command as.'*
Egbert, bishop of York, who fhmrishod in
the eighth century, wrote a penitential for
the direction of the confessor and the con-
fessing, and nrges the dnty of confession
npon all trne penitents. That this custom
was recognised hf the church at lar^ is
eridcot from the fact that Alfred the Great
and Gurtnmns ordained, in union irith the
clergy, that, if any criminal wished to haye
a priest to confess to, this pririlege shonld
never be denied him; and, in the canons
enacted under King Edgar, it is enjoined
upon pezBODs going to confess to arm them-
selves with fortitude to make a foil discovery
of their faults, *^ because, without ecnfesnon,
there is no pardon to be hoped for.'*
There is another fact that ought not to be
overlooked in this diacnssion, and ooe which
we commend to the special attention of our
opponents, viz., that the Church of England,
with all her errors, recognises the dnty of
confession, as appears from her 113tfa article,
which runs thus: — ^*' Provided always, that
if any man confess his secret and bidden sins
to his minister for the unburdening of his
conscience, and in order to receive spiritual
consolation and ease of mind from him, we
do not in any way bind said minister by this
oar constitntion, but we do strictly charge
and admonish him that he do not at any
time make known to any person whatever
any crime or ofience so committed to his trust
and secrecy." — See the body of the ctmone
drawm «p m 1663.
Having said so much of the institution of
the confessional, we have little space left in
this paper to devote to the separate qnestioa,
ia it ** in harmony with intelleotaal and moral
freedom or social well-beiwg? * Nor, indeed,
is this necessary, for we might at once argue,
it priori^ that no institntion sanctioned by
God can be opposed to the true welfare of
man. None can be to well aoqttalnted with
the natars and wants of man as hb Maker,
and He graciooaly ordained ordinances to
meet those wants in counekioQ with His holy
church. The oonfessional may be opposed
to sinful practices and vicious passions; but
these, again, are opposed to maa^ highest
interests; for they debase his mind, defile hts
heart, and imdermine the very foondatioDS
of society. The confesaoiial opposed to free-
dom? Never, when the yreeefom todoasire
ehooee is associated with the detemdnafum
to do as tee ought As to its bearing upon
social well-being, hear the testimony of one
who surely will be taken as an impartial and a
true witness — ^I mean Voltaire. He says : —
** There ia no more wise institatkm than that
of confession. The most of mankind guilty
of crimes are naturally tormented with re-
morse. The lawgivers who established
mysteries and expiations were equally anxiona
to prevent the criminala, under tlio influence
of despair, from mslung reckJeasly into ne^
crimes. Confesaon is an exctillent thin;: — a
bridle on inveterate crimes. It » ezcellenl
for disposiog hearts ulcerated with hatred M
forgive ; and the unjust, the iqjaries they maj
have done to their neighbour. The enemies
of the Soman Church, who oppose so aalntani
an institution, have taken away from max
the greatest check that can be imagined i^x
iniquity. The wiso men of anti^^uity havi
all recognised its importance. The CathoHt
religion has eonsecrated that of which OoJ
permitted human wisdom to peroeivo the ad
vantage and embrace its ahadows."
If evidence vtitt more distinct be deaiff^
as to tho eftsets of the confeasional oo tb
well-being of society, we have only to cit
Raynal, who, in his Thifesophical aci
Polidcal History of the Indies," ssj? :-
" The Jesuits established in Paraguay
theocratic govemnsent with the practice <
confession — ^the veiy basis on whi^ religic
reposes. It alone is a substitate for all pent
laws — ^preserres and watches over purity *
morals. In Paraguay religion, more powr
ful than the force of arms, condvcted tl
criminal to the knee of the magistrate, whet
fisr from palliating bis crimes, rvpentai^
made lum aggravate them; whm, far fro
EUROPE AX PIIIIjOSOPHY.
S09
dadin^ pnnuhment, a LuinUe suppliant, he
deauided it on his kneeii. The more severe
it vu, the more it tranquillizcid the con>
kinoe of the crinunaL This chastisement,
«Uch creiTwhere else terrifies tlie criminal,
ben consoles him in banishing remorse by
Qjlitioa. The people of Paraguay liarc had
00 criminal lavrs, because each person volun-
tarily locnsed and punisheil himself. All
tiKir Isvs were precepts of religion. The
Be*, of all governments would be that of a
I theocracy in which the tribunal of confes-
sion would be establislied."
We commend these words to tho attention
of the thon^htfttl readers of tho Britith
CoHtroverslnliAt, and tho whole question to
their impartial consideration, bi'lie^'ing that
they will be convinced that the institution
. under review in in harmony with man*B
' hiphost interests, and productive of his true
welfurc.
CoNri:ssAiuL's.
€\}t mltlm' IrrtloiK
EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "tHE AKT OK 11E.VS0:<ING."
PROLoaoMEN A — ( Coiittnucd.)
ItEniG, Icnowin;^, doing! Mystery-enshrouded conceptions! how fondly have men
tuacd at comprehending " the full significance " of all that Is wrapt up in these little words!
Wv arieotly hare they gazed at ///V, intellect, and action ! — these three wondrous corre-
hln existent in humanity — that they might acquire a knowledge of their various inter-
^dcncin! how eagerly have they tuiled on, with unintcrmittent energy, in the anxious
^dttToor to penetrate into the regions of absolute Truth! And must all these impulses
v^ more us to attempt the decipherment of " tho purpose of life,** which tempt us to
ftff»ke * the torpid quietude " of ignorance, which urge us to the performance of tho
^-vaik of great thoughts and deeds, which incite us still to work on and pause not, in
ti;<]Kfeaf winning yet the goal at which we aim, be mljudged inutile and vain? Can
iR tbB toil of thonght the sages of the earth have undergone be fruit1c:J8? Must all the
Ivfa which they have entertained be classed with dreams and phantasms? Dare we
a«Kt that—
*' AU Ihis fair Nature is but aa a maKk,
\dA Uii9 her wondrous beauty • • •
Is l>nt the b«anly of the Sphinx, Uiat mnlk-s
111 dread enigma in the faoe of men " t
I*«««ity laid upon us to sigh out, with " Manfred "^ —
" Sorrow is lmowle«lge : they who know the niost
Must mourn the deepest o'er the fkUil trutb,
The tree ^knowtuhjt in not that of life.
Philosophy and science, and the AprinK**
Of woniler, nud the winUom of Uie wurM,
I have tstayrdf and in my mind thiiv in
A power to make tliese subject to itsi'lf—
Bnt ihe^ avail not "I
^ «« btliefc tbftt ■]! is sterility and barrenness, and yot tliat Deity has given to our
i^Oeot u inpetni which " gwds it on again to ran its fruitless circle" ? 1& iV^ ^^^'Cvcv^
SIO KVBOPBAK THihoacffnt.
of nmn an ** intcnmnable theme, which etOl elndes all seizure" ? Is it trtie that ** to
aspire to the knowle^g* of xnental phenomeiia, thar resemblances and snccessions, is to
aspire to transcend the limitations of human (laities *? * Are we — if this be tme — ^merely
phenenneRa to ooimItqs? Is HXf-hmmhdge an impoasllMlity? Is conKumsnes^ not a pos*
session, bat an appearaaoe? Is perionafity a foment? and se^-^fferentiaifon a xmm
product of Transcendentalism? Can we abnegate the notion of self, or are we necessitated
to postulate that as one of the prims, demental facta in nature, without which all other
facts or notions would be impossible? HaTe we here rov (rrc5, a stand-pmnt of certainty
•—an indubitable actuality? If so, then is Philosophy possible. If so, man is not
"Like a loose wheel in some cnished mechanism,
Whose sick and feeble motion spends itself
On its oim Inane drde,"
but is interlinked by numerous relations; such as origin, succession, co-existence, final
cause, &c., with other beings, while many time-ties unite him with the past, the present,
and the fature, as well as co-actiye in the production of those causes whose effects shall
constitute futurity. If, then, we can reason from what we htowj Philosophy is possible,
and the mysteries which enshroud that being of " mixed essence," who on earth is found
** Contending with low wants oud lofty will,"
nre resolvable, and shall yet become as patent to the thought-energies of humanity, as are
now the properties, &c., of —
" The lightning pale, that scrawls with hucried hand,
Huge hieroglyphics on the screen of uight."
It cannot be denied that we are so constituted as to desire a correct acquaintance witi^
the philosophy of our own nature— a knowledge of the laws of being, knowiag, and doing;
On the accuracy of our infonnation on these points our welfare, in a great meaaups^ depends
All human soul-queries may be reduced to a fouiifqld classificatien; viz. : — lat. Ontologies
What am I? 2nd, Critic— What caa I knowf 3rd, J>ikaistio-*What onght I to Jo i
4th. Elpistio — What may I hope? Without an answer to these interrogations, the sonj
cannot rest satisfied, and Philosophy, like the ark-dove, is oontinuaUy on the wing, soekis^
a resting-place for " the sole of her foot,'* But she will not always be '* seakini; rest an^
tinding none.** Surely she U yat destined to return with ** an oUve^teaf plackt, ^ indicaj
tive of peaces to " the city of Mansoul," as qusAt old Bunjan iMth itl Such lK>pos» a|
least, by tho constitution of our natare bum within us, nor wt xv we wise to wish lor ihxi
extinguishment. " For what end and fron what Wfir<f6 were these ejrtn^nuuida:^
endowments and wishes placed within us, that we should wish to stifle them ia thci
birth-world? Let us ratlMu: set ourselves energetically to diicoyer a fielntioiL By ce^
lecting and classifying the phenomena of human thoaght^by diaosvering the limits ^
the intellectual fiiculties, and confining oar researches within theae^— by Qarafully exanj
ining the motiveosources of human action*>by closely and Tigorously analyzing th» uxori
judgments which we fonn — by judiciously reading the hopes wMch rise spontaneously }
the soul, and esUw^ting the probabilities of their ultimate fuIfiUaaenty vamj we not Jiope \
• • II I, I . ■ — 1. 1. — I
• Lew«e'Bf Biogrsidktelil Hlst«^ oTPUIosoffty, ttl. 1 p. SI.
ElTROPSAir PIIILOSOPHT. 311
pofixm tfaii? '^Trnth in the dangbter of Time," say tlie ancient sagea; and thej are
D^L Instead, thexefuTC, of concluding, with one of the ablest espositozB of pbilosopbio
toeti, that ** it is in Tain to argae that the diffioulfcj of Philosophy is mnch greater than
tUt of any other science, and therefore greater time is needed for its perfJBctimi. The
fiScoIty is impossibility. Nu progress is made becanse no certainty is possible."* Let
u other, vekomiog the difficulty — " proud to be daring "—prore that
** The higfa-bora soul
Disdains to rest her hiHiv«n<a8]uring wing
Beucuih its native quarry."
If there be truth in human aspirations, hopes, or feelin;:s — if our own souls do not betray
!>-if tlie voice of nature lies not, Philosophy is possible. And even were it not so, who
vonld not rather dare the Impossible, fighting bravely, and dying ** with harness on his
^oik,'' than walk '* the green nnripened universe," partaking of " the old insanities of Hfe,^
v^veiriod and forlorn, tlic living sepulchres of crushed and ruined hopes, bearing about
*ith OS, throughout ^ the ceaseless, changeless, hopeless round of weariness and heartless-
tas,' 3 soul in which Death sits gnawing at the core, as
** Mindless of our immortal powers and their
Immortal end, as is the pearl of its worth ;
The rose its scent ; the wave its purity " 7
let u not bo misunderstood, however; as if we sought to elevate Philosophy to " tho
totlirwitd ?eat " of Religiim. There is this difference between the oilices fulfilled by these
^■sirters. Religion is the all-credence -worthy jtrnrttcat instructress of humanity; di-
viaelr commissioned, she descends from heaven with a dogmatic code of regulations appli-
CiUeto 2?/e and condftct. But to whom are these instructions valuable? By whom will
*^Mde be accepted? Whose credence will be given to her august authority? Will it
^ d»oua whom no 8oul-<iueries have disturbed? — in whoso mind no lofty aspirations
Wb?—«i whom no v^ant has been developed? — who demands no solution of his destiny?
^! It is when the soul is awakened to its needs — when the incompetency of mere earthly
Sb to satisfy his hopes has been felt — when the past is insufficient, the present horror and
tWfctsn agony— when the sonl b excited and despairing— when thought, reflection,
ifKaktbo, philosophy, have taught the mind the wed of a life-guide that religion be-
tcoeptable. Religion gives peace to the mind through tho necessity which the
feck for Bcane guidaooe, for some balm to its distress, for some light in the profound
BeUgion gives life and vigour to the soul by calling forth faith; and, so lobg
can be drawn from authority and testimony, the life of faith in the soul
ii MCiie. Bat reason requires to be satisfied of the validity of the grounds on which
fiM ntts, deiDMids that the credentials of religion be given to its inspection; asserts its
i%ht to ** ptow all thingB.** Philosophy, then, is the ordtnator of the speculations of the
;; the aiblter of the true and the false; the ossayer of opinions; the critic of faith
prKticc BeHgion appeals to Philosophy to prove that she is required; tliat she is
to satisfy nian*s wants; that her credentials are duly authenticated; that she con
risg tros peace to the son). Not only so; but Religion takes for granted the labours of
* Leves't Biognphieal History of Thilusophy, toL i. p. SI.
' 1 ;
I"! \: I '::':.•'.: '•!
1 1'
i'.i.i'.- >,■.:> ; ii.^.- Ui.i. ■^ liii; i'.\i-ti..ii .■ i-l i .i!". , I;;.' ;!•«.• i "i i.i-.>i.i;'> . U;i' ;»•>.-:•.--;. :i ii .■•.■■. . . .
cf truth, &C.; gives her answers to hU ino^t urgent soul-c^ueries, and leavea their elahor«.L .
tion, classification, proof, and illiutration, to Philosophy. Philosophy ia necessary, tU sat
xnnn may k-HOiTf Religion, that he may do and hojx'.
Having thus far elaborated the arguments— 1st. For the existence of philosopfiic
thought; :2nd. The possibility of rhil<3s-)pliy ; 3rd. The dilferentiatiun of Philosophy troni
Ii'.'lii:i«)n, and the fact of their co existence — wc shall, in our next, briefly place before you s.
synoptical view of the [pathways of thought thn>ugh which we desire you, with us, to wcnJ.
This will be advanta-reuus, not only as .1 guide in the future, but as an incitement in t!.f,»
£iresect. It will prepare the mind for under;>tanding the diveri^ences in our course, ds
well as for a perception of the pKd at which we aim. The way is arduous, the toil severe;
but such as arc willing to gird up their loins, and fi>llow our guidance, we feel p<>rsusJ^i
shall not return, crying, "All is barren!" but will be reaily to assent to the opinio!! cf
the amiable JouAniy, that '* the history of Philosuphy is an important study, a study wliicii
eminently belongs to the present e|HKli; and it is no less curious than indi.«>peii5ai)!e to
regard it, not as a catalogue of strange opinions, altogether foreign to the a.fairs of lift*
worlil, pnxluced at ha/^ird in the head of certain individuals, at such and such a tlnie, in
B\\r]\ or Bucli a country, but as a pnigresaive wrirs of attempts to solve t!ic quesliou-j wbiih
ina-t nearly concern h.unanity, by everything m«iat iilusitrious to which i: has i^ivcn liinL."
IIEPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROYEMEXT SOCIETIES.
yo(tinghain CanlJt GnU Yimnq MnCt Mntunl
Innn-ov ment SocU ///.—The tbird nnr.uul nit'ciiog
of the above viiluaiilr ». ciety wjit hcM in tlie
Hounds Gate ncboulrooni, on Tue.Hilay.Juni.* Isil.
At livi* o rlock about fifty iien^ouH of bolh »f.\eH
jinrtoolc of lea i»r«>viibil'by tin* cnmniitU-t' ; ort*r
nliirb the Jtcv. It. S. M'AU toiik the chiiir, and
«b Uven"«l fi most inipujtsivf nrnl iiiitnu'livi- ml.
dvfs*. iirviii;; the youn^ onwariU in lbt» woik ot
Hu]l'iin|in)Trnii>nt. Mr. H. Bray, \\\v s«;cnjl»ry,
ifad thi* ri'|»ort; from nhii'h wc laim that ilie
Roriety is in a ]>ro:<n'e»>iiif; state, lliiriiii! thr
X»a>i year itj» nKUibiTs {twrntj-fivo'; have ipjuI
U|nvanU of tlijily cssjiys upon V«li»rions, hiMori
•-ill. iui«l .sciiMitilic 8ubi«H'l» Si'vi nU disni^siunii
\\\\\v. taken vlac« Ujmn *' Thf fnion of Chun-h
uml State ; " tho " Tenipftronre " «p;i>5lii)n ; " Thi»
Cliiiniiler of Oliver Ciummrll.' &c. &r. The
aiiuiition of the report h an moved tiy Mr. William
(?j«»»bie. seconde I by Mr. llou«»er, nntl supiwrlfl
by Mr. S. W. M'All ("I'n «>f the chainnan). mho
i^pokt'Qt h'nk'th upon the iirinripirs and working's
ot Mii-li «ot-i( ties. Thr niitflin^ ^%all also uililrt-»M d
hy Mes<i5. Ilaekett, Sninit. More, l'rest»n, and
W. Filkiu, Kaii|., Major. The evening"* enier-
taii.uient wn;* varied, at inter\'alA,by the liandine
round of plale» of fruit, 5ce., and' the meeting
broke up about ten o'ch*ek, with best wWm f*'
the stKTiely'H proirrew aipl proj«perily. Th^oJ^
eiTH of the siieivty are a.* follows: — Mr. S. •^"
M'All. president ; 'Mr. F, Dooth, rice-pTMiJn* •
Mr. II. Ilrav, secrutarj' : Mr. S. Pairif, twafwtr -
runinillb'e. Messrs. S. UrijrtfH, R. Breete, W.C-
I'ndrrvrood. S. Sandent.
J'envil Mutual Jmpnvmrnt Society.— Oti^^
evfninj? of Tueaday, Juce 1st. the menbci* e*
ihi.H socii'ty held n putdic Hoirre at tla- toini4ii»^
In the ul»sen«*e of the pre«ideut.Ct.I!Rrbii>,E>4'^
the rhair wax elliciently oecti]ried by T. Lroo#
K«q.. ont' of the vice-presiiknUj*. A report oijli^
prorre'luipH of the Jtoeielv. and of its ipnl6ifo^
Hueri'hs since itn fonuatmn, was nrad by Mr*
V.'illiani^. one of the honoranr »erT**i«rif»tiftw
whirh J. T. Vinini;, K>tt-p ^k^ deleffata Iran tU
institution tn the Soriety of Arts iu Li»ntloD,|S«t
Nonu- intrrextip); information rrupvrlinir lb* coo*
fereni'O, and ulluiled to tiic benefits Uk«lf td
ri'Nult from it, Addre>MS xci-n al*o deKvcrvdbj
Metvrw. liide, Newroaii. Turkrr. UighBaM,
llan'iaro. Ne The amat«ur niiu«ic«claa» routri*
biited muoh til (he enitiynient of the eveninir.sDl
t)i« nK*ttinL' was ])r.donf{L-d to a late h<)ur. atid
•ivcf. p'n(*i*:il ^ati^t>letio1l tu iui uuuitrous t'jd
respectable aUi-ndant<>.
IIIK iNiiiii:r.i:.
S13
'(Tjit 5iii|nirrn
QCESnOXS RE QUI KING AXSWEKS. [
US. Wiiai in Ui« uieaninK uftLe Irlters Jm nnti i
^'•f'itoining m oM ehaituni and ih.'vdt>, mul iii- '
I H.ti.i :t. plawr "f ibr yi-ar ? I
^ il^. Wiil iniiM* of your n*vl«Ts fannir mc with ,
'It pUd of a iliary, and iniunii mc wiiviiitr it i» t
•■"Ai". t" t nter tacL day's \trt^tHrediu^ ? >
111. Buvin); lanlr »itne>>M:(l, at a loicroACiipit i
•■xuyd'fU, ilie ikcnrupoMiiiun of wuer. I aiu '
K.xsf^'M to kniiir «)iat xinc in ust^tl, aixl liow it i« '
trl-^ir-L ^nuulii Hiijr ddu^'tfr ariM* fruni tlie fCdsr* j
iutt%;.»nUii,tme.i»lea.setop(.intitout. ti. 11. V. '
Hi. liavijic dL'\oi<>il my attt-ntitm for snnie
U.«« ti tJ4at luuvt iuicreYiing branch of naurai '
vv.ine. iM^uny, auU fettling; tht- iIvHiral'ility o*
I.'ci«Tiiiut *ji«irinien» of ptants. 1 nhull tvvl niiicii .
"'•^•l til any of viiur rvu^lvn «hu ttili jrivi- me I
! '«» iiwTTuctwii* ti< til the Wil uictliod •'! funn-
J:^»Ltilaxiiuu.— -K. Jr.
1I'». C-julU uny ixaJer infonn lui" of ilir nalim*
rf' lAU)fhiuic pw"— of what it is conipuM'd, and j
** 7,5^ It*. ami U It i«» iiijiiriuits in ili cUV;tt» l* A. C.
l'»'. Tiie writer, belnf? in iJie iiai>it nf forwsuil-
'■'■>■: 5.'>rii.*», to lofiil iu'WNpiipi-i>, is iii.>sipiu<> uf i
• :*. jujr aJ«ii>!, whit-h. il" praoliscMi, wtuiM l.c
■.ir:j I... i.S^iuu ihf f'lIiowiD^ ilfkcts in liin n{\ Ii-, l
■n.'.v^it; n. Ace: — IJin &<-uttncr*f an^ tnannilly
>■ Jojf. vnuetiiue.*! cun\t;y nc^enil divtincl iilous,
•'Ji.ij'i' ..Q each f.lwr. hut nut nfct'asaiily cun-
'•*cl. Tiierf i'* a 8titrne>s in his tMjnjpn^itiun
*i.irii b« i^ anxious to siipi.>r»etlt- liy a U-mini;
**• XThicfiU fctyle. There an.-, aJso, urcawinna!
'-^^iii ilia punctuotiun. ari»ini; innn th^ w:i!>t
** *«&|ile. tixetl rule, %ihich »bnu* liicml will,
J»iap,iun.lly funii-Ji.— E. W. L.
11*. C4ia«nyrcndtrrbof"Th*.' Impiirvr" infunu
*>H. W. «-h«tlit.'r tlierv wuuM \tv icaily eniplny-
'iSif bra Cambridge atudeutiu any o( tht* lai-^ir
''^^u •f Aa^trmlio, a* u traL-htu* orninihtaui ui u
k^liuol? Ihe exttfiit of Lift acciuircnients in u
*>'jaur aMiiiahitance with (jivt:k and I.iitin
**B>Mr«, and the eletuentary muthrtuaiirH. aImk,
**|gfc^« »2i|ebt aeijUttintani.'e with Fn ncli uuJ
Citraao vould be any additional adviinta;rf. iiii'i
^F **ial mean* auvh empluyinuut c«iuld he hi*st
^^■BMi? Would auch a person linii any dii!i-
fiuty la pf^icuring a situntion as n S'liuul tlnichi-r
m bennaoy ur l'ran'*e,aud what saiary wunhl hi-
A« hJcrJy to obtain in those cuimtrie.<* n^Hpcclivtly V
US. 1 shoold b« much ohlii:e«l if yuii or s<iine
fl/youreomspoudeuls vould infumi nn* whi.-th«-r
M cwei^en is kalrht^ fruui the yulk ur Ute wliiie
of«aegsr.~P.C. C.
AXSWEBS TO QUESTIONS.
I >l. f'ommon-plcct Zi'f*oJlrt.— Without f.ir one
'.i.-.'::'«'nt cottM'Jeriuc uiy^elf to ansvif-r 1.- thi
Fft-iu-k-jsk*' iKirrait that *'* .\ Student' hns drawn, i
I tau ^Uii di«p*js«d to beUere that tin' sulijuint^il
iij:.CA may }io%%jlbly be of some sen in- tu him. '
inf'rri:.^*fnimthef)WMiiftc/'e»'aNi/iofthi iMUiniinn- !
: '.M K \.-*i .'ks lu general oireulation, it is coi\ii'ciurAl ,
:hi»t ilji-ir u'iliiy in n ^'^ at inramre d<*pen<1s on
thi: piMHOU!) that use Uieni. 'I'hese XnK^kn uxv, as
:iJJ k.iow. intinJtl^■ly iLSNoriatud with tin; naniv of
lAfchf . YxiY.u this flirt a su^'t'ostivc infcrrnre luny
hir ttr.iun. > or \u\ bcdf, I rannut prufiAh to lulvamu
'Ml upinitm, nut having' usi-d imk- niyMilf, or ovm
»'f n "Uf in U!»o. IVrhnps thii ii niit'pntc correct,
Ii>r tho •' ludix l!»'rum" is, in it.s purpuses,
nearly allied to tin* cummottflacr Intokit niuNi in
\o:.'>u-. (.If tiie " Index iirrum" Mhe using
Mliuh I uni ultont tti t:x]dHin and Hiiirt'rily ai|.
vm-ntf) I ran -tju-ak piiftitivfly and Irom ]U'r-
M'lial i'.\]><-!-ii'ij< •>, ha\in^' myi^elf UHitd one for
tiuntr tinje : and I r:in a«Huri.> " A .Stndt-nt" that,
w]iru inli llit'i iitly kept, it fully answi-rt all the
i|u>-s(iiiu.H)if hn.s |iutwi(h refrrv'nn; tn such hooks.
As to makini; oiit an "abstract or analysis" of
il wi'rk, or tukin;; nnli'S, thoui^h eui:h of thi-se
ni>^d»s has })ion pr>ditaMy pui'sued hr srvcrul
:niinrntmon. I think tliat'ilie " InilexUerum"
iini(<>.s nil tin- ad\ untaxes of both norvs and
-in:dy.'>iH.tMi>i':hpr with nuiny more; and that, too,
by tlo! ( zpt-nniiurc of far K'ss time luid trouble : not
tJiut tbe •• liidi X ■' forms a '* myal runti " to a vast
•toit of uvujiitble kMowK'ilirr : no ; to nmk(- a really
i.'u->d niid uii-tul i>iii-— fine ihnt ^liall bo .'ivailable
at nU ti.nfs, and without im v»:p«'nsi\r troublt^ —
Tnuch thotii>iit ainl l;i}«iur must btM>X|>cndeii. Hut
thi- adv:itiia.ri-*(, direri :uul imiijirt. uccniin;;
»iiipl) p'pny all the ]>ain» ami tun.: exiHMided.
liut I nnssi procii-ii tomitidil th'Mn-tl'.uri of usin^
(I. 'I'hi^ I wi'l d>> us clearly aiel witii as much
brif iin"«s u« p-)s.sjble. The Imok to cuntidn the
ihUx •<ho'ild In- of the 'jiiorto size, and number
at ii-a^l I.JO puLi's. A few quii-n* of jn.per stitched
in a Lover would, of i-ourse, an^iwcr the purjiost*;
but, as >tiit: biN'k nui^t Innl the oisncr " his wh<ile
liii'." it is ud\is.<ble to have two or thne times as
n.rjny p:i:.'eH, uni' h.i\f tluni ^fronj^ly bound.
•• lnd«\ laruj»i"4.' bkuik as v> lianls coitt^ntf, are
xold at J^s. td. i-ii<h. '1 hi,.se havi> theiniii.'d Icttiis
iuid \<»r.i-!s printed, and \}w paje.s ruhd in blue,
and are al:oi!ethi-r o* a superior deseriptii»n. 1
niu>l .sup])ose the siiidrnt has (ine emir* ly blank,
and is nmv abnut to ni:ik>- n.si* of it lor the lir»t
time. <i|ienin.ir it at r)ie fIr^t pa^e. h<- would ilraw
an ink line paialle] to. and about an iueh from,
the top id'.o;, luid another luie p<T|>endirul;ir to
the foiuier. luiil nb lui two inehex and a half fmiu
the /'y/-hiind '>ide of tlie bonk, and 4>o on ihroiiuh
every i a/e. Turning' a'.':«in to the liwt pajre, he
niur-t plaee Ihe tirst Ietu;r of the alphabet, in
ciif.ilalt in t)ie imnietliate leO-hiuid conuT, and
I e iirst of tlie s<-iiis of vowflN in tli'' rentn* i^f
the lirsi l'uu\ }ini iji Mtmll or ifiilic eharaeter, ami
so pro4-ced to the end of the book, arranidnK i*ach
of ihefjNr vuueKaf inteircrbto eacli of the capitals
till the ulphabf-i ha^ l>e«'n exhausted, IIpin o1>>
viously ivipiirin:; I'Jfi pa/cs. If more ]>ageM are
nse.l. every \f»wel niust be n'peaied acponlinely.
'J'i!<'n. hndier. suppo«in!» that *' ASiudenf has
bun ti-n!iiit' of Ana)>aptisis (a» (his word is
ad:i]>l>:d f<r the tirst paL'>>). he would ]da<:e it,
as beinir a tenn inMilvimr the chirY idrff, in
the lelthitnd margin of the iJrht pa<.'e,iiiiniu]ieral
v.iuil,- •!." beinj: coiiieid«'«i with the lVr*\.\w«v\
of the wor-.l— I . c, the Wvsl v\a\ SvA\o'«ik \\\»i \vv\vVq\
*2li
3U
THB OfQUIREB.
lensr. TheB woold fbUow a brief b«t oompro-
beDttre dcdBoilion or ind«s of the sidgect ooo-
neeted with the itidio*, Anabaptist, aod also «
refajence to the book and pafte oontaining the
aubjaec ia question. Tfaia '* poatmg " may be thus
shown ftr ezattiplo:«-*
A.
Anabaptists
account of Ac crrtd of. Smith's
^•HisL of the Scrts;*rol.l.p.lOO.
There are then three things' to be considered;
first, die term that ihall involve the principal
Idea: this is aometimce aomewhat diffieolt to the
nonoe,as theword that«il> be certain (o elimi-
nate the aame train of ideaa its the Juture as it
does sft preaeot must be sought and employed ;
seoond^ t^ definition, which should evidently be
as eattetee and oogont as passible ; thirds the re-
fersnee. When these ar« prapoiy arranged, there
ean be no diffiocdty ia making an immediate refer*
anoelo any snl^ct of which ywx have at an^ time
xeail and noted* This is, imdoubtadly, the chief ad-
Tantaaei But there ace very many collateral and
acaredy less valtubie advantages, and these pos-
sess the uBusuail rarity of being absolnlely indU*
pentable. There are these>~Atmtttion is arrested
aad MAoentratBd ; henoe memory is hroc^t into
useftil action, and thereby strengthened ; it is also
sided by the adventitious circumstances of post-
ing, &c. : — a tendency to digest and dwell on the
information eduoed by reading is originated and
assiduously fostered. Many others mi|^t be
mentioned: but these will certainly form a suf-
ficient'* depotU'' to induce " A Student" to com-
menoe the undertaking^ and to pursue it hope-
fiallv. In connexion with the "Index Berum"
nsea by myself I have introduced " A Vocabulary
of Synonymes and Unusual Words," the latter of
which, however, X think of discontinuing ; for,
having lengthy, high-aounding terms at oomip
mand, a tendency to make undue, and even
ridiculous, use of them is cultured. I speak tcvm
a sense of the great error into which I have my-
self fkllen. On others, perhaps, this hint may
have salutanr influence, words sjmI phrases suit-
able for a Johnson may not grace the thoughts or
S' le of a student. Let me obser%'e that it is
rbable, on the ground of neatness and (kcility
of rafersnee, to have *' paper and pencil in hand
when reading, and thus lake the index, posting
on the followmg day. In this way theintervexung
time allows opportunity of altering the indice
and modifying tk» definition, if then it is
deemed advisable. The "Index Berum" was
invented by ]>r. Todd, and a fUU deseription of
it as fonnd in bis ** Student'a Manual," a book of
aevcral hundred pages, very AseAil, and sold at a
low price — Is. 6a., I believe. Any other infoiv
xaation on this topio I ahould be moat happy to
oommiMueate to *<A Student',' by post» if he
ahotdd require it, and will Aunish me with his
address. A further explanation of the use of the
integral vowels will, perhaps, be needed. They
are used to ** dietdt and oomfuer," and U> aid aU
kinds of reference. The Uaiteid width of the
oolumns of ** The Inquirer " will not admit of the
examples "A Student ''requests; indeed, in this
matter it is obvious that a reference which would
be at all times roeognisable by him who wrote it
would not, therefore, be apprehended by any other
person. Difference of mental constitution solves
thu paradox. An *' Index Benuo " is ««««»-
tially peculiar to him who ooMtruoti it^-^Sayo/.
107. The Frtnek XoM^tM^.— Having studied
French, I maybe, perhaps, excused Ibr venturing
to reply to the queries of X>. J., and for fciving the
routine which I adopted. It may be well to state
that the French language b now in use through-
out the world ; and, with the single exception of
the English, it is the most polite, as weH as tlie
most reekerehi, language spoken. There is bat
little diflionlty in acquiring the grammatical con-
struction: the pronunoiatioa w, however, the
most important braaeli of the study; and your
eorrespondeut, if he wishes to distingufak himself
In company by taking part in the conversation ,
shoidd not onlv seek the assistance of a French
master, bat endeavoar to pass some three of i^uc
months In Frniioe. The latter is, undoubtedly,
the prefnvble plan ; and he will in that short
space of time aoquire a raaoh more correct know,
ledge, not only of the eonstruotion, but likewise
of tiie pronunciation (wbieh is of paiamount im-
portance), than bypassing any period, however
lengthened, in these realms, in Prante be will ,
of necessity, hear nothing q»oken save the lan-
gQiffie of that country; and the dilBoalty of con.
vernng with out person, or of making any in>
quiries, save in the French language, will compel
him to become as (hmUiar with it as he possibly
can. He will soon ovturoome difficulties, and
after a few days will be comnetent to make any o|
the inquiries in French whlim are most connected
with his butiness there. Questions relative to
the cotutry--dist-*oaK>da of liflnff— cnvelling j
indeed, all queries havfcig any rewrence to hu
phvsical wants, vlU soon become quite familial
to bis tongue as well as to his ear. What £ng
Itshman is there who, although never having betd
in Paris, can understand the ev«ry-day pnrosct
of-*Parie«-voos FtianfOis, monsieur ? Commen{
vous portez-voas7 Avex*vons din67 A qndlj
heure vous couchez-vous t Tm fbim. J'ai soii
Vottle2-Tous promener avee moif Madani<
votre sant6.* And a hundred other question^
now ahinost as ftonUiar lo us aa Bn^ish. J
knowledge of this language is indispensable to au|
one who wishes to beoome aoqQMkned with Ut<
rature, history, political eceiiotny,llto.. as eoin«^ i
the best etandartl worits are written by the Frend
Such works are always sought by tiboae wtio aj
desinius of becoming w»ll refld. I will britffl
state the system which I punned when aepirirl
to an aequaintaaefrwlch the langoage. I obtain«
the Frmoh Qrammar by M. Levisao, and wrH
out caiafUliy into Ftvneh tkt exereiaea as thd
appeared in the book. 1 had two tesaona of oi|
hour eadli per wvek, and I «ame each tinae prl
pared with a oeitaiB amoant ofeaeroiaea, wiii«|
my tutor corniced. I also leanaed bv liaait aW
forty wordi* per lesson. In adtflfoa I haii*
" conversation-book." in whleh queattena on i
topiga, bat moatly in aeeordaaea with eowun^
usaoe, were given in Frenob-^ttta anavrer (|
English) was plaoed oppoaite. In like maxtneH
At each letaon I had a %-ert
* Do you speak Frenoh, air? How do you dl
Have you dined? At what time do woo go
bed ? I am hungry. I am ihiiaty* nili y<
take a iralk with maf fre«
TUE TOCXG STITDEIfT ASD WRITER 8 AS8ISTA2IT.
315
n>9agitt, tojBRpu« fbr recitiUioa tt (ht; foUoir-
mhsMm. Of ooima rarh rerb wa« ooi\jugmted
■Midliig toiu trramuition, ma example of which
«M firtai io " The British Kuy to the French
•ok," ]/j H. LeTalleux, my tutur. ThU is one
Jf At Modest and best work* on the French
(■gMge; mdcfd^my progreNS witJi its help wan
^ nqiid. Lastly, I read (h^uitntly (with my
^Hh| in French, and translated likewise into
wsh. *'Easy Lessons iu French/' tv|>rinled
MB "The Working Man's Frirad," price Ud.,
•tf be consulted by your correspondenL 1 have
<M oaoiined them, eonse(|iiently I cunnot speak
to Ibiir utility, or to the character of the mtftliod
QfinttQeiiou whidi they punue ; yet, if tbe tes-
teoay of their pablisher is corr««t, they bid fair
b kca rery useful and cheap inetbod of acquirinic
"laLamiue Francaiae." Lessons iu French are
lin published weekly iu the *' Loudon Joui-nal/
LwMid not, however, rft^mmcnd your cor-
j^Nkdcnt tu seek instruction tlirouf^U the me-
■laef that jounial. as the character of soum of
^JJjHffs ptdilfafhad therein is more calculated to
VSRB^ the mind of D. J. witli Ta$rue, unreal,
vAfliavy speoulacions of novel uud romance than
^hstfii it b^ tha study of Frencli. The price of
"■■oiks which L studied (exolutive of tuitionj
*|HsiitedtOMboutl7s, Xootlier books are rei|uit«d
jj^^ acquisition of Uie laxiRuafre, altliough a
<^MIiiilpcniwlof, audacquaintauce with, French
j newspaper literature is indispensable — that is, if
I your correspondent is desirous of prescnring hit
knowlodoe of the languajrej — J. G. K.
j l(iS. Thf (ierman Latujtmge.^-l cannoc give
I your rorresptinileiit ** Anuaiid" any information
a*t ti) Uiu indliu^ls uf Olleiidorf, Robertson, and
Lcliolin, for tfacLint; a lunpiaf^, never having
seen their workK ; but )>orhaps it may be of use to
him to know that tbe (jerman language may ha
learnt easily uud well, witliout the aid of a tutor,
(Vom the fulluwin^ books: — 1. F. Ahn's "New
Prarticul and Kasy Mvthnd of J<eamini( the Ger-
man I.allt{tt(^;^^" in two parts, published by
BrorkhHus un-l Avennrus, Leipaig. — tf. Schmidt^
'*8ynupticul UerniHn Grammar;" Simpkin, Mar-
shall, undCo.->3. Stohl's "Manuel de Phrases
Francnisi-s trt Aliemandes ; " I'aris, J. H. Trurhy.
—4. '■' Dictiuuuaire Complet Fniucaiii-AJlemand
AtiKlais," fourth edition ; Lciprig. Brockhaua.
After tlie iirst tbreo have been gone through care-
fully, and the exercivea written out, hn will be
able to follow without much difficulty tbe les-
Hons, gospfils, epistles, &e., as they are read in
church (if he attends one) in a German bit>I»— a
]dan which will accustom him to the dilierent
style:* of composition — historical, ])n(>tical, devo-
tional, and arKiunentative, whindi are all to be
found there. This plan has helped me mueh in
studying the Grct-k, Latin, French, and German
languages. — FXL,
CjfB '-^nung Ittttont unit Wiiitx'i Slssistnai
LOGIC CLASS.
^wW M the Art of ltt(Uoning.—yo. XVIII.
. 1. Bow can Logic lie defended iVom the objec-
^w^ftK it is ixwspable of olKning formal rules
grtteJrtectiimof Seiui-Logical and Xou-Logical
1 Vkat are Semi-Logical Fallacies, and into
*J iimii classes may thejr be arranged ?
*- Booibe the characteristics of «aeli class, and
^Vhat are Non-Logical Fallacies, and into
*^ Bny classes may the;|r be arrangetl ?
_,* X^etoibe tbe cfaaracttuistics of each class, and
^ IMki the Fallacies in tlia ibllowing quo-
.L "lUDy ibottsandA in your metropolis (says
^ *f'WMa More) rise e^ery moniing without
"■•■•m how Ibsy an to subsist during the day ;
J**iny of dbuOB, where they are to lay their
sMtt tt nlgliL All lucn, even the vicious them-
**■> know that wickedness leads to misery ;
||*>Hny, erea onong the good and the wise,
^ 7^ to learn that ndseiy is ahnost as often
is iHae flf wkkedaaas.
"Itec are many (sajs Montesinos) who know
f*>*t believe that it is not in the power of
2**t iastitBikitis to prtrent this misery. They
2^*S<BBt,bitt regard the causes as inseparable
"^ ) eoiuUtioB of human nature.
j»ywly as God is good (replies Sir Thomas)
** "^Hy tiMic is no such thing as a necessary
^'■"fby tha religious mind, sickness, and pain,
**Vi&, an not to be accounted evils."
Svmlhe^i " CoBogwiet m Society:'
3. *' A people may be too rich, bccauK it is the
tendency of Uie commercial, and more especially
of the rrionufatTturiiig system, to collect wealth
rather than tu diflliM) it Where wealth is iieces-
rarily employed in any of the speculatious of
trade, iu< increa&e is in proportion to its amount.
Great capitoli.Hts become like jiikes in a fish-pond,
who devour the weaker fish ; and it is but too
certain that the povertv of one part of the people
sccins to increnso in the same ratio an the riches
of anotlicr. Theie are examples of tlds in his-
tory. In Portugal, when the hi{^ tide of wealth
flowed in fh>ra the conquests in AfKca and the
Kast, tlie effect of that great influx was not more
visible in the augmented splendour of tlie court
mid tlie luxury of the higher ranks than in the
distress of the people."— Ibid.
3. "He that imposes an oath makes it.
Not ho that fbr convenience takes it;
Then how eon anv one be said *
To break an oatli he never made ?**
**HudibrM" book ii. chnp. S.
4. " Embowelled ! if thou embowel me to-day,
I'll give you leave to powder me, and eat me too,
to-morrow ! 'SMood ! 'twos time to counterfeit, or
tliat hot termagant Soot had pidd me scut and lot
ti>o. Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counteifeiL
To die is to be a counterfeit ; for he is but the
counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a
man : hut to counterfeit dying, when a man thtrt-
by liveth, is to l*e no oountnllBit, but the tme and
perfect image of life indee<I."
Uenrtf IV. Pnct I. Mt 5 ,«teM \.
316
TUB TOU2IG 8TUDEXT AXD WRITERS ASSISTANT.
ORAMSiAR CLASS.
Bxerciui in Grammar. — No, VII,
1. Construct a farm like the one given, and
arrange the tttl>jotned phraaes in their proper
oolumns: —
The pilgrim's promes. The-Christian's hope.
Bunyan'e ** PilgrinTa Progress." The works of
Newton. The servant of the king of Israel.
AUIeue's ''Christian's Armoury." The pride of
t^Tj, The mandates of Che ministrr of Britain.
The righto of the people of England. The laws
of Moses. Boms' " Colter's Saturday Night."
The world's gloiy. Evening's silent breath.
Dunoan's Ciaero's ''Orations." Spirits of the
mightjr dead. The doties of the followers of
Jesus Christ. The wealth of the merchants of
Glasgow. The eoaqueror of Darius. Haynes'
TirgU's '' JEneid." A warrior's sword. Night's
•tany robe. Jacob's children's children. The
words of the preacher. The progress of the pupils
of this insiitation. The sceptre of the Quean of
England. The son of David. Gibson's " Thomp.
son's Seasons." Stewart's " Gray's Arithmetia"
Beauties " Vhvin Tear." The sun's bright drole.
Wilkie's *< Blind Man's BnfT." The wreck of
Thebes. The speech of the hero of a hundred
fights. The history of the philosophy of Europe.
The law of our being. Dil worths "School,
master's Assistant." Ocean's dark expanse. The
"Arabian Nights' Entertainment." Ainsworth'a
"Miser's Dausrhlar." LoveU'a ''Wife's Secret"
The eapriee of fturtuno. Tha last of the Soman
kings. TheaoostleofthaGentilca.* The rust of
slottu The educational scheme of the Church of
Scotland. The currents of tba straits of Gibraltar.
The spirit of the religion of Christ The flrowas of
(kte. Chambers' "Bums* Poems." Scotland's hero.
Homer's " Iliad." The love of God. The style or
Cicero. Murray's edition of" The Works of Lord
Byron." The brillianey of Macanlay's writings.
Cruikshank's "BotUe." TaUis's "Hume's Uu-
tory of England." The child of affliction. The
humour of the works of our early writers of
comedy. The horrors of the stonny deep. The
MnoU's mimk skilL Graea'a " Barnes' Notes. "
The dust of the earth. The breath of the mora.
The stroke of the haraowr. The reviews of Gil-
fiUan's " Bards of the Bible." A vivir of the
works of God. The wreck of the wooden walls
of Old England. The close of a day of pleasure.
Macnee's portrait of Dr. Hengh, of Glasgow.
2. Put the following prepositional poeaessive
phrases into a terminatioual form >—
Thechildm of IsraeL The peace of God. The
Queen of England. The homes of the million.
For the sake of peace. The character of Felix.
The seminary of the lady. Xhe school of Um
ladies. The voice of the nation. The dedsinn of
the nations of the world. The sons of victory.
The voice of conscience. The petition of tbe
mouse. The training of the childmi. The rights
of num.
NOUNS.
PostmsstvE Cask.
Terminational Possessive.
Preposiiional Possessive.
Simple.
Compound. i
Simple.
Compound.
1
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— VI.
Ariikmetie and Mgebra.
Quettion SI. Let 3« b the money he had (in
shillings),
then X t= the sum he first gave
away,
nud 2 X = the money left
-^ + 8 X =-q— = what he gave the
^ '* tradesman.
3 X 9
By question 2x ~ +— =15
orix — 3X + 9-30
21 .*. 3 X ss 63s.— Jm.
R.M.
QuettUm 21 (second solution). Befhre receiving
the change he had Ids.— 4s. 6d.sl0s.6d.
This was the remaining \ after his payment
of J.
Thet«fl»re. befbre that he had lOs. 6d. x 4r=429.
But this kst sum was the remaining | after
payfng J.
Therelbre, | : 1 : : 49 : 63s. the original sum.
W. H. R.
Question 22. Let 2x =: the ntmber of ej^ ;
then, as 8 : X : : 6 ;>-p or-j- s cost of one bslf
8x 3x "»««»«• J
and, as 10 : X : : 6 :-— or-r- = <»•• of the othw
,P * ha]fthe«i:ir^;
1 iX Ax
also, OS 0 : 2x : : 6 : — - or - - s= what he soUI ibc
eggsfbr-
3.r3x4T __ - ,
.*. h-— S---+ 15, cleoitng the (tactions,
4 «> o
45 X +36 x=80 x+ 900
81 X- 80 xs 900 or X— 900
.*. 2 xsl800> the ntmiber of eggs, required.
G. C. H.
d.
Proqf.^As 8 : 900 :: 6 : 676 « cost of half ihe
eggs;
•and, as 10 : 900 : : 6 : 940 s cost of the other
half the ectr*:
liI5sGost of all^ttr
eggs;
and, as 9 : 1800 : : 6 : 1200 s what he made rf
the eggs;
15 s= los^
G. C. n.
NOTICES OP BOOKS.
31!
CHliiBg(I] ana subtncting (2) we haTe
3x' y+3xy^»4158
ov^Sia^ by 9 and taking out the common factor,
.-. sjf (*+y)=18M
n^uitobg in (1)
.-. l«xy=1386
.-. xy=1.186
=77
18
^: x+y=19 (3)
X y=77 i4)
^um^ (3) u tbetint method for finding the
^>bi ofx— y
x«+2xy+v«=3a4
^biaiiig four time* (4) wc haro
x*—2xy+y*=
*• X— yss
.'■'.bailor 7) Lantly,' x-y=
i.-.va7urll/ x+y=
*Ucfa values \
verify the [bj addition 2x =
X =
IG
4(5)
4 (;-.)
l»(l)
22
llor7
14or-
7 or -
22
11.
bj subtraction * Sys
Geomriry.
Qv'stHHill. The Biirfareof a sphere i» equal
(■ (bit oT its circunMcribeil cylinder ; eryn^ the
•■riier of Miiiaiv milira on the aur^cc of the
««th = 7920* X U 141G = fl2«2l470 x 3 1410 =
1973.'/Mltf^l6;
**Uw extent of soHkce occupied by water
**■«•+ 7J4 : 7M :: 19rj-'>w.i9^)lG : 141863202-
M71744 square mileA,
'■^'b'fxfenl of surfk(*e ocaipied by land
= *J»*734 : »» :: 197a*aw«-0010 : 5249774G-
43442&1 R^iuare miles. J. J.
Mechanics.
wa/ioa 10. The work due to fHction, »ul»-
"Wrfiom the worit due to gravity, will give the
*cil[cfibetnun; thus:—
lOOx mo X 9 - 1 00 X 8 X 600= lj>3«000
■'•Vix 100x2210 ,..^^
:— =153600
whether conveying the train 80 miles or only 600
feet, the same work being performed on every
C-OO feet of the whole distance.
=90x5380
Speed of the train in ft pr. min. 3- = 1760
Weight of the train in lb. ., =2240 x 100-£M0C0
Rise of rail in 1760ft.=1^7x9=30ift.
60U
Hence it appears that the whole wei^fht of the
train w raised 26*4 ft. every minute in opposition
10 gravity.
Work due to sravity per minute,
= 224000 X 20-4 = 5913600 ;
work due tr> miction per minute,
= 100x8x1760=1408000;
and total wurk = 7321600
7321600 ^, ^
.•. horse powers-:;:;;;;;;^ =221 -87 nearly.
MWX)
J. B. H.
>xl00x324O=9881tK100
22iOGOVa=y881GU00
V«=441.
.•. Velocity =21 feet
^^•"^OB 11. It will 1»e easier if we suppose
^m'ttetrain has to ascend a hill of 20 miIo»,iind
^^i^kfise Df 9 feet in every 6<J0 feet, I'ccause
** ^OH power of the engine must be the .same,
QUESTION'S FOR SOLUTION.— VIII.
JrilhfMtic and Ahjebra.
28. A man and his son together can do a piern
of work in a days, which the roan could do in b
days. How long will the son be doing a similar
pifce of work by himself?
20. A iBilder 40 feet long will reach the top of
a wall over a diti'h 15 feel wide. The height of
the wall in required.
30. An irregular piece of land, containing 67 a.
2r. lf>p., iH 10 l>e vzchanged for a square piece
of the same area. Re<|uired the side of ilie
.Hquare.
31. Given, x*+x y = 120, and xy-9y «+5=0,
to find X and y.
GeofRefry.
14. Required th« side of the largest equilateral
triangular pyramid which can be made out of a
!i)»hcre of iron wliose diameter i.s 18 inches, sup-
posing there be no Ioms by the change of lorm.
15. Refiuire<I the content of an hemispherical
bowl, the diameter of whirli is 2 feet
JVechamict.
13. A well i% 100 feet deep, 17 feet in diameter,
and 50 feet Aroni the top to the surface of thit
water. It in rc«piired to lind the time that it wouM
occupy a man with a windlass to empty it, su]>-
posting that he will do 20«H) units of work yttr
minute, and that no water flow in during the
process.
14. IIow far wouhl the train in Ex. 10 a^e«.'nd
a second incline of 1 in 100 without stopping,
friction being ns before ?
jSfltitts Df 3Jnnk%
^^»l^»fBdmmrdBain€$,laUM.P./orLe
ff ih Boo, Edward Baines, Author of
RiMHTorflM CoUou Manofkcture."
■■Ml Co.
Leeds.
the i
Loug-
[Bteomd Notice.]
. ft»MMiaHmi||||| of Sdvard Bainet, the sab-
l*^tt9h ncmoir, exj^red in SeptemlMr, 1797,
and iin the day Adlowine he commenced business
on his own account. Now was the foundation-
stone laid of his subsequent eminence. EuerKT.
industry, ainl prudence, were his wotchworas,
and his course was one of continued progress.
In due time he was united in marriage witlt an
excellent woman, with wYxom, for &^^«Bra^'^
was privileged to journey >hxQNK|^ uu. %wnL
318
NOTICES OF BOOKS.
came those interesUng stimulanto to the enacgien
of a virtuous man — cmldren, and he did not lack
the heart and mind to ansvrcr to the increased
demands. At five o'clock in the morning, and,
when occasion required, still earlier, was the
▼ooQg printer in his omce. He was above no
kind of work, but miffhi hare been seen both at
case and press. He \ept his own books with
neatness and correctness, although he had had no
training in book-keeping. Not a penny went out
or came in but had its record, either in his office
or his domestic accouot-book.and hence he always
knew the exact position of his affairs, a most
important matter for a young tradesman. His
customers and friends steadily increased, because
he was to be depended upon in all Uiat he under-
took. His punctuality and method were exem-
plary, for he threw his soul into his work. His
perseverance in business was seconded by eco-
nomy at home. He began br laying down the
serious resolution that he would not spend more
than half his income, and to the carrying out of
this he owed his future ease, not to say opulence.
His habits were favourable to frugality. He
always drank water, never smoked, took no snuff,
and never eutcred tavern or theatre. 'While he
loved good society, it has been well said that
" the chief room in his terrestrial paradise was his
own parlour, uid of all humau beings his chief
oompanion, and best earthly ftiend, was Mrs.
Baiaes." Men in Xeeds were accustomed to
point to him exactly as man i>ointed to Franklin.
Old men refari^ the joung to him as to a pat-
tem^ and it would be said, "Thou seeat an exam-
ple m thy neighbour Edward." At length, the
Letd$ Mercury ti>ne of the oldest provincial news-
papers, came Into his hands. lie purchased it
with a circulation of some 700 or 600, and left it
with more than as many thousands. The num-
ber of words in a copy of the Zieeda Hei'cury in
1801, was 23;376, and in 181S, including the
weekly supplement, it contained not fewer than
180,000. Here indeed was progress as to quan-
tity, and we believe that it was as great with
respect to quality.
Mr. Baines had now become a public man, and
took au active part in the various political move-
ments and electoral struggles of the day, but
into these it is not our province to follow him.
In the meantime his sons were growing up around
him, iUU of hope and promise, for though so
much eng^ed m buuness, he secured time to
interest himself in their various pursuits, and to
stimulate the development of their mental powers.
The following is an uitcresting parlour scene :—
" About this time, in the intervals of the uni-
▼eraity temu^ a little debating society was held
weekly in Mr. Baines's parlour, of which hU
two sons, and their intimate fViend. James
Parsons, then tndning up for the legal profes-
sion, were the only members ^ whilst Mr. Bainea
presided over it, and judiciously summed up
at the dose, awarding nis encouragement and
advioe to the juvenile orators. His eldest son
and JamM Panona were of the same age, and
they had many years been clasa-fellowa at the
same aehooL Their taste for literature, law,
and politioa, was kindred, and the immortal
apeeohes of Burke, Fox, Sraldne, and Grattan,
fed their minds, and flied their spirits. When
those debalea began Jamea Parsons was not
llacnt, stUl leas florid ; aterUng sense, ooReapoad-
ing with his sterling honestr, chiefly marked his
speeches, yet with a decided love and appreciation
of high eloquence. Mr. Baines listened to the
efforts of the young disputants with warm sym-
pathy and aomiration. But before this early
arena was exchanged fur that of active lift, Jsmes
Parsons, having in the interval spent some time
in London, burst forth in a brilliant intellectual
development: he had acquired self-reliance, had
given wing to his imagination, and had discovenid
is capability of daiing flights. His companions
were now astonished at his fervid eloquence ; axvd
the kind moderator of the little society predictt^d
future distinction. A spiritual change sanctified
Ills talents. He devoted himself to the ministry,
and has become one of the most distinguished
{ireachers of his age. And when, thirty years
ater, he preached the funeral sermon or his
early Driend, he made touching allusion to the
weU-remembered scenes of youth, and, with an
overflowing heart, assured the mourning flonily,
that he 'mourned with them as with the rvxe-
rence of a son, and with the afibction of a brother.' "
Mr. Baines had now reached the meridian of
life, and had attained a position of great honour
and influence. His well-known character, and
his business tact, aided by hts pen and press, gave
him great power for the (Urtheranoe of any public
movement; and that he generally employed this
power for good, his promotion of mechanics* insti-
tutions, saving banks, Inf^t aohools, tec, exit.
deuces. Mr. Baines's course had been conti-
nually an upward one, but at length the time
arrived for the most signal honour to be plac^
upon hUn, in his being chosen b^ his fellow.
townsmen to represent them in parbament. The
passing of the reform bill gave to Leeds the power
of sending two representatives to parliament, and
their choice fell upon Mr. John Marshall, and
the now celebrated historian, Thomas Babington
Macaulay. After two or three years of service
Mr, Macaulay accepted a seat in the council of
the governor-general of India, and a vacancy
consequently occurred in the representation of
Leeds, and Mr. Barnes was thought by the
mcgority of the electors to be a " fit and proper *
person to succeed him. Be oonseqaently took
his seat in parliament, and there he xealously and
consdoitiously discharged his duties. His priii-
ciple was, " measures, not men ;" and he apt>c«rs
to have supported those projects which com-
mended themselves to his judgment by wrhatev^r
party they were brou^t forward. AUhoagh h<>
never ^zkd the house with brilliant oratory,
he frequently enlightened it in budDess4ike
speeches, hence he was unifonoaly heard wiUx
attention, and even respect Three anoce&siw
times was this worthy man returned Ibr Lc-ed»,
and for eight long years did he itva acrre Uia
town and country. But now *'hia wbt of life "
fell in " the sear, the yellow leaf." and his gcne^
ral health hemxk to give way; he therefore, in
1841, felt it his duty to resion hia trust ; but his
constituents did not allow mm to retire ^thonx a.
handsome testimonial in '* admiration of the tnt«^>
rity> seal, and ability, with which be had mIto-
cated the principlea of eivil and reUgiooa liberty
during a public life of more than Ibr^ j«ars, aoJ
to evmoe their gratitude for hia Imposfnt cer-
vices, as the faithful and inddtatigBble represenu-
tive of the borough of Leeds in three mtocesciTc
parliaments."
270TICES OF BOOKR.
3I!>
rtizvment ftxini parliament, Mr.
vw nectsssarily much Ipxs active
mo- peri<)(l, but Le xtill diMrhtuxod
I macistraie for the borouprh, aud
est KfiUnff, and even ocrufliiinolly
foIitinU iDovomentA aud nicotine's
Ute the " wi)m warhor«c,*' he
le Kound of battle, and it was only
in of oth«r> that prevented him
* the tented field." But when re-
te ncc-nc of conflirt he iniRht find
Lhe thought that he had rcpre^rn-
or it was his happiness tn see h\n
Talbot Balnea. Iierome eminent as
1 disilin^iishi'd in parliament ns
r Hiill ; while bin Kccund 9(in, Ed-
y rondurted llie Leah Tilrixttry,
si Importaxkt part in tlio great edu-
remy.
iniws to a close. In the winter of
dnn bt-c line sei iou-sly indiiipOKed,
nal api^earance on the bench with
%trates, where his lost effort was in
lehta, and relieving the distresyes,
M and the pu'ir. Alarming »ymp-
I. which awakened the deepest con-
dren, and his chfldreii's chililrcn.
. to enter " the i-humber when* the
bia fare, "but suffice it to state that
Bthcd his last," August Mrd, 1K4R,
t age of seventy-four years and six
aa fti.tmewliat departed firom our
I un»eiiting so ezxended a notice
uu whose career Ls so fully and
N.-orde<l in tlie volume before us,
we so, not merely to interest but
readers. We consider its careftil
ted to Ktimuliite to intellectual im.
moral advancement.
II the subject of our notice as the
idoe, diligently atbMiding to his
careftilly improving his leisure
din we have beheld him as tlie
ran and the influential M.P.: and
re it too deeply impressed u]^on
liat It was tlie coiunte ho piirsued
d to the honours of age. Let this
indered over, and it will suggest
ty thought to youthful mindy.
' England ! contemplatf the up-
Edward Baines, and say if it is not
fipnlatioD.
f readers cannot but have lieen
slmiluliy between the life we have
liat of the great American printer
lei^ainin Franklin. There were
r rtaemblance in the mental rha-
wj of the two men, and Mr. Baines
, not in^ipmpriately.the " Frank-
Kor was tliis resemblance fortui-
iadnc fkct comes out that^/-om h'u
iited the reiolution o/ imitating
Tbe Snflueuce of Uiis n'solution
flft cannot be estimated, but it y> as
; amd wc cannot express a better
•■ tbe life ot Franklin helfHfd
XMter of Baines, so tliu example
J be taken aa a model by many of
I it would be an unrar-
Mi IT we did not record the dee]>
interest with which we have {lerused the volume
before us, and express our opinion that it ouirht
to find a place in the library of every mechauiea'
institution anil mutual improvement society
throughout the land.
TJte Lifeuf LordJfffrey, with Selecti&na from
his Corrr$pondence. By Lord Cockbuni. 3
vols. Eflinbiirgh : A. an<l C. Black.
This is a work that will be eagerly iierused by
all who are fhmilior with the history of our lite-
rature during the lust half century. The name of
TA>rd Jeffrey is indLssolubly associated with tho
Edinburgh Jtct'ieir, and it was Ids connexion
witli this iiowerful serial that gave such intemst
to his life, and will give immortality to his
mcniorpr. His merits iis u private and profbssional
ninn will be forgotten long before his wfluenee as
a v.-riter will ccoac ; and therefore in presenting a
brief notice of his life we shall dwell more par-
ticularly upon this pbasis of it.
Francis Jeffrey was liom in Edinbui^, Octol»er
2nrd, 17T3. At an early age he was sent to the
High Schoid. Edinburgh, and in his fourteenth
year wns removed to Glasgow College. He hero
enjoye<I maiiy e<iucationa1 advantages, and com-
nienivd the practice to which he steadily adheretl,
of taking full notes of all the lectures he heard—
not mere transcripts of what tlie lecturer said —
but expo<iil<>ns by the pupil, in his own language^
of what he had meant, with discuaaions of the
doctrines advanced. From his very boyhood he
wus not only a diligent but a very systematic
Htudont. tihd he formed very early tfie invaluable
habit of coUaternl composition, not fbr purposes
of di.si)]av, but for his own miltnre. He has left
behind him h mass of these writings, consisting
of Ifctun's, essays, translations, abridgements,
speeches, criticisms, tales, poems, &c., and each
one bears the impress of laborious thoughtAil-
neas. It was thus that ho laid the foundation of
that character of mental animen and literary
exactness, which he afterwards so eminently
sustained. Early in his sixteenth year he re-
timied home, where he remained for the next
two-and-a-half years, pursuing his studies alone,
making translations, writing essavs, composing
spee<rhes, &c. He next went to UsfonI Univer-
sity, which appears then to have been surrounded
with on nnomgenial moral at]nos|[>hcre, and he
gladly removed from it, after a residence of only
nine months. He was now nineteen, and h»
ideas about a profession began to take a deflnito
shai>e. It appears that he had some thoughts of
living by literature, and chiefly by poetry, but
these were onlv the casual lonping of taste, and
not the prevailing views of his nrHctieal judg-
ment Tlie law was plainly his destiny, and to
its study he now devoted himself. He attended
the Scotch lawlectures of Professor Hume; those
of Professor Wyld, on the civil law ; and thoao
of Proftssor Alexander Tytler, on history. As an
illustration of his application, it may be mentioned
UiHt his " Notes taken from Tytler " occupy 4M
folio pages of his writing, which would be at
least double in ordinary manascript. He now
joined a celebrated debating society, known aa
'* The Sitcciilative,** which was established in
17C4, and exists at the present time. Hia bio-
grapher considers that ** this did more ibr him
than any other event in the whole eoniae of b\%
education." He wu ivmarkibVc lot ^a&at«cia\as
320
NOTICES OF BOOKS.
ftttemlaooa; he raad Mveral very ibk paven, (oA
took a bmUous p«it in every diMowion. It may
easily be enppoaed how ezdtiiijr eoaM of these
detetM must bftve been to JeSray, whok it is
stated that he had to stnasgle with Lansdowne,
Brougham, Kinneird, and Homer, mho, with
other worthy oomiieiitors, were ell in the soeiety
at the same time. On the Kkh of December, 1794 ,
he was admitled to practise at the bar, and though
it was a long time b<ribre he obtained any cele-
brity, yet he still pursued his studies, learning
** to labour and to wait" Early in the year 180S,
a small but important meeting of yoimg men*
was held in Mr. Jeffrey's *< upper room," Buo-
elcueh Place. The olgeot was, seriously to
discuss the praeticabili^ of a proposition made
by Mr. Sidner Smith, for the establishment of a
quarterly renew, and it «as acceded to b)r ae>
elamation. It happened to be a stormy night,
and this suggested manv a joke respeetang the
greater storm they were about to raise. They had
had little experienee in writing for the press, and
although Sidney Smith was the appointed editor
ibr the first numbo', they evidently leant muoh
upon JefiVey's Judnnent. The first number was
to have appeared in June, 1H)8, but it was post-
poned to September, and ultimately to October.
JefiVey's anticipations of success were not san-
guine; in writing to a friend, he said, *'Our
Fw'view is still at a stand. However, I have com-
pletely abandoned the idea of taking any perma-
nent share in it, and shall probably desert it after
fulfilling my engagements, which only extend to
a certain contribution for the first four numbers.
/ $m*ptct thai the icork itae\f will not have a
muehlon^ l^e. I believe we shall come out in
October, and have no sort of doubt of making a
respectable appearance, ihou^^ we may not per-
haps either obtain popularity or deserve iL" At
la<it the 10th of October, ItKM, arrived, and the
first number of the Edinhurgk Brview made its
appearance, containing seven articles by Smith,
four by Homer, four by Lord Brougham, and
five by Jefi^y, one of which, on the French Re-
volution, begui the work. 1 1 is almost impossible
for us to state tlie impression made by the
new luminary. The learning of the new journal,
Its talent, its spirit, its writing, its inde^ndence,
were all new ; and it was a maltw of mcreased
surprise that a worii so full of public spirit should
spnng up so suddenly in a remote part of the
kingdom. JeAey gives some interesting par-
ticulars of the doings behind the scene ; he says,
** The first three numbers wers givru to the pub-
lisher—he taking the risk and defraying the
charges. There was then no individual editor;
but as many of us as could be got to attend, used
to meet in a dingy room off willison's printing-
office, Craig's Close, where the proqf» of our own
articles were rsad over and remarked upon, and
attempts made also to sit in judgment on the few
manuscripts which were then offered by strangers.
But we had seldom patience to go through with
these, and it was found necessary to have a re-
sponsible editor, and the office was pressed upon
me. • • • Smith was by tu the most timid
of the confederacy, and believed that unless our
incognito m» stnctly maintained we could not
go on. And this was his olQect for making us
• Allen was 3S, Smith 31, Jef&ey29, Brown
34, Homer 84, and Brougham 33.
hold our dark divana at Willison's office, to which
he kisisted on our repairing singly, end by bark
approaebes. or by different lanes r This ws» tbe
modesty of true greatness. Jeffrey suffered not
the fhme and oeeupatioa of tlie JUrine to drsw
him fVom his obscure professional practice, snd
at length advancemqrt, and even popularity, came.
JeAey, at the age of twenty-ei^t, was married
to an amiable lady, with whom for four vears he
lived in the enjoyment of the greatest domestic
happiness. Her death, in 1(H», appears to bsve
given him the greatest shock he everexperieuceil,
for he described himself as ** the roost misersMe
and disconsolate of men." But lime healed the
wound which death had made, and iu 1H13 be
sought an alliance with another lady. The object
of his afibctions had removed to America, bat
notwithstanding he entertained the giea'est horror
for watery adventures, i^/ter making hi* triii, he
boldly set sail, and ultimately returned with ht5
** ladye love.'* He now continued with increa.<«d
success his professional career, and still editing
the RevietF, and writing manv of tbe articles tb&l
enri^ed its psges, until in me year 18'29 he «a9
chosen ** Dean of the Faculty of Advocates," «hen
he withdrew ttom connexion with the Rrvttic,
after having edited the 9^^ number.
When relieved from the anxious and inceMnnt
labour of the JZevteio, be expected to spend tb«
remainder of his lift in comparative repose. Eat
in December 1630, the Whigs came into office, an.i
he, by pre-eminence, was appointed Lorti Ad-
vocate. Thb gave an unexpected turn to his
prospects and avocations; he had to go into
pailiament at a peat pecuniary cost, for while
his office realixeo about £3,000 a year, in eigbtAH
months he spent about £lOfiOO in electioneering !
If he made no ^reat figure in pariiament, be
proved useful to his party m cvrjinfi their n;r«'rni
measures, and he was afterwards, in Deoemlfer,
1832, relumed to the first reformed parliamtr.t
for his native city — Edinburgh. But Lis {«r*
liamentary career was of sliort duration, for s
vacancy occurred on the bench of the Court if
Sessions, and he became a judse, and aceonimt:
to Scottish custom, assumed ine title of Lord
Jeffrey. The current of his life now flo«ctl
gently on, and though age brongfat with it soine
of iu attendant infirmities, the^ were ksseneiUy
the ministrations of warm flnendahip an J con-
stant love. But ere lung the end came, sod U
breathed his last on Saturday the 90th of January.
IHSO, in the 77th year of his age.
Even in this ruds and hasty sketch of the cax^^r
of a great man, our readers will discover morb
that is worthy of close and imitative studv ; here
is another illustration of how mental ditiipUti*
gixee mental power, and how persevering iudue-
try, starting even fh>m comparative obscurity. csn
attain to affluence and honour. Let our nvirn
mark these things, and in them may th«t« be
realised the beautiful language of Joacns
Boillie:—
** When thinking of the mighty dead.
The young from sloihfid couch will start.
And TOW, with lilted hands outspread.
Like them to act a noble part ! '*
With respect to the work now before us. re
nerd not make many remarks. With such nis'r-
rials before him the writer could not fkil to yi^
duce an interesting book.
lljlttarir.
BY THE AUrnOR OF "THE ART OF RE.VSOXISO.
No. IX.—OX STYLE.
^'The great art of knowledge lies in managing with skill the capacity of the Intellect,
ud in contriying snch helps as, if thej strengthen not tlie natural powers, may yet expose
tkflD to no unnecessary fatigue. When ideas become very complex, and, by the multiplicity
fi their parts, grow too unwieldy to be dealt with in the lump, we must ease the view of
tbe mind by taking them to pieces, and setting betbre it the several portions separately
ne liter another. By this leisurely survey we arc enabled to take in the whole; and, if
*e on draw it into such an orderly combination as will naturally lend the attention, step
^itep, in any succeeding consideration of the same idea, we shall have it ever at coni-
Buod,aDd with a single glance of thought be able to run over all its parts.'**
lo oar present prelection upon that power by which
•* A drop of ink,
Tailing, like dew, upon a Uioiight, produc^K
Tbat which rnakcH thounands, perliups n:iIlion!i, think,"
VI shall endeavour as far as possible, by orderly arrangement, simplicity of treatment,
ttd caicfo] difierentiation of one idea from another, to present such an analysis of our
>idi)eet, complex as it is, clearly and concisely before you. It will then bo your duty to
TBiblhixe our instructions, and, by the constant practical application of the whole of
^^ti once, and connectedly, while engaged in " shaping forth the lofty thought," make
JMrwds not only the distinct and transparent, but ahto the attractive aud graceful
■bCbb of conunnnicating your ideas.
Vitfaoat further introduction we shall at present proceed to indicate the chief qualities
*^o^ght to distingmsh Style, and the most important laws which ought to govern it,
BMCir M these relate to the structure of sentences.
ABatcnce ia any number of words so collocated as, by their combination, to form
^*Bplt(e seoao. Sentences are either simple or complex.
A Smite Sentence expresses one complete act of thought — consists of one distinct pro-
l^ilion, j. e., of a subject, copula, and predicate,! with their several necessary adjuncts.
Tq SnjKCT may be— 1st Any noun or pronouu ; Snd. Two or more nouns or pronotms, so
*'*V(lul in tCDte that the predicate cannot be affirmed of each indiridually; 3rd. A noun or i^ro-
*^«ttk its a^unetive, explanatory, modifying, or dependent words; 4th. A noun or pronoun,
'I'^vwiiplaeed in qipositiou to it ; C)\h. The infinitive of a verh, eitlier singly or witli its a^uiic-
^'>phnlury, modifying, or dependent words; 6th. A pnrl of a sentence.
^1 CorULA, b always the verb to bt; but this may be, and in goneml is, compounded with
*I>aKin's'*Iogie,**p.37.
^icCfftrficplaiiatkm and definition of these term*, " Art of Iloasoning," Xo. V., vol. i., p. VMf
2 c
322 RHETORIC. — ^NO. IX.
attributives to constitute a verb,* and may thus b«, and in general it, employed in conjunction with
the predicate.
The Psedicatb, when not compounded with the oopola, may be — Itt. A noon or pronoon
singly, or with adjuncts ; 2nd. An adjective or present participle, singly or with adjuncts ; 3nl. The
infinitive of a verb, singly or with dependent words ; 4th. A part of a sentfonoe. When compounded
with the copula, it may be— 1st Any intransitive verb or vert> passive, singly or with adjuncts ;
Snd. Any transitive varb, with its object and a4)uncts.
Adjuncts consist of nouns, adjectives, pronouns, adverbs, and prepositions, with their governed
objects.
The objeet of a transitive verb may be — 1st. A nonn or a pronoun singly, or modified by other
words ; Snd. The infinitive of a verb, singly or with its dependencies ; 3rd. A part of a sentence.
A Complex Sentence consists of two or more simple sentences, so combined as to make
1>nt one complete proposition, t. c, to express one complete act of tlionght regarding the
tlmig spoken of.
Those simple sentences which unitedly form a complex sentence are ealled danaes. Clauses are
cither primary or secondary.
A primary clause, in general, expresses a eomplete idea, even when separated from the other paits
of a sentence. It oontains the leading affirmation in the sentence.
A secondary clause is a simple sentence, or part of a sentence, connected more or less with the
primary clause, and is used to modify and explain it; it cannot, therefore, stand by itself, but mu$t
be joined to a primary clause.
A complex sentence must always contun one primary clause ; it may, and flrequently does, con-
tain more clauses, which are independent of each other, and are called eo-oriituUe,
Clauses which are dependent on other clauses are called tubordinaie.
Primary clauses are always eiy-ordinate.
Secondary clauses are always tubordinaU to primary clauses, although Ihey may be co-ordinate
with one another.
Secondary clauses may also be subordinate to each other.
Primary clauses receive names according to the nature of their connexion with each other.
Primary clauses having the relation of equality are denominated equivalenti ; those whieh expreu
opposition or contrast are called antitketiea or advertativn; the fSormer are lulrodaeed by end,
hoik : aho, either ; or^ neither ; nor, &o. ; the latter by Imt, however, ottAoafA, yeC, leo.
Secondary clauses are named — 1st, firom the nature of their connexion with primarj elauaes; ^d,
from the names of the parts of speech by whieh they are introduced.
Conditional elame* are those which imply condition or eontingeney; they in general cooi-
mence with the conjunctions i/, unleu, except, in.
Caeuai elamea contain a reason, and are introduced by soeh coqjtmetions 9M/i>r, beeamae, stmeefke^
Jt^ferentidl or consequent ckutMeM denote an etkct or consequence ; thai, tker^ort, wker^ore, &e.,
introduce such clauses.
When comparison is expressed, as by than, eu, &c., the clause is called eomparative.
A concessive clause denotes yielding, or apparent yielding, or concession : though, etUhotifh, &c..
are in general the introductive conjunctions.
Explanatory clauses may be introduced by a noun, adjective, pronoun, participle, adTrib, or
preposition.
When a noun in the nominative independent begins a sentence, it is called an abeeimte c€
independent clause.
When a noun or pronoun is placed in apposition to a preoediug word or elanse, the claoae which
contains it is called appotitive.
A parenthetical clause is one enclosed in parenthesce.
• See " Rhetoric," No. IV., p. 125.
lUlETOSIC. — HO. IX. 3S9
SmadtrxelAQses are also divided into adjective, relative, participial, and coojunctiTe, aeoording
u tb«7 lit introduced by an adjective, relative, participle, or conjunction.
The fbllowiiig aphorisms may be found semceable in guarding against errors in Style, or
in giving information to sach as are onlj beginning to engage in composition, viz. :—
1st. Be particnlarlj carefal in studying the subject on which you intend to speak, in
order thit you may possess a full and complete knowledge of it.
2ai Id the choice of words, endeavour to unite rtputabky nationdt^ and present usage.
3rd. Give each word in a sentence its due grammatical or rhetorical relation.
4tL Aroid awkwardness or inelegance of expression, whether it violates the syntactical
ndesornot
3th. Words necessary to the scn^e, harmony, or beauty of a sentence should never be
omitted.
^ Words which are unnecessary to the sense, or destructive of the harmony and
^0^7 of a sentence, ought to be ehded or amended.
*th. Carefully alMtain from using the same word in the same sentence too frequently f
esipedillj avoid using the same word in different significations.
Sth. Unnecessary transitions from one person or subject to another, as well as ambiguity
m the iptacticol relations of words, ought sedulously to be guarded against
dth. Topics having little or no necessary connexion with each other, or that are capable
of beisg c^msidercd in separate sentences, ought seldom, if ever, to be discussed in one
XDtence.
10th. When expressions are in all other respects equal, those which are most harmonioas
wd pleiibg ought to be preferred.
11th. When, of two words or phrases, the one is uuivocal and the other equivocal, the
^OiSerihoold be chosen.
12tL Obsolete, obsolescent, harsh, ambiguous, quaint, low, technical, barbarously-coined,
Qdioledstical words or phrases are reprehensible.
19th. Vulgar phraseology, or the language of low life, ought in serious compoeition to
keielMwed.
Hth. £ujy idiomatic, and collo^iuial diction is preferable to that which is heavy^
1'™'"^ and overlaboured.
'^ The one idea which we wish to express in a sentence ought to be gradually
^"'"''H satisfactorily dealt with, carefully elaborated, and the sentence ought to be free
^ uythuig that con retard or embarrass the intellect in its endeavours to compre-
^it
16th. The protanSf t. e., the former or forthstretchbg portion, ought always to ezcitf
"^^^tion; whfle the apodosU^ i. e., the latter or recurring portion, ought always to
^^^ Conespondence of purpose, quality, cause, effect, &c., should be expressed by
•""••pwdeDce of eonstnietion; and contrariety of purpose, property, origin, result, &c., •
"^^ ^ ir^iuMwl by an antithetical construction.
^ Senfewoes ought not to be extended to a tiresome or fatiguing length by the
tin of too maiij drcumstancee or objects, even though they be closely connected itvO^
324 RHETORIC. — HO. IX.
the principal cUase or clauses; a little consideration will show how they may be arranged
in different sentences.
19th. We ought to conclude as few sentences as possible with an adrerb, a preposition,
or any insignificant or unimportant phrase.
20th. A judicious intermixture of long and short- words, phrases, clauses, and sentences,
gives a pleasing variety, grace, and vivacity to style.
21st. Consecutive sentences ought, in general, not only to vary in length, bat also,
wherever it can be accomplished with due regard to perspicuity and the laws of speech,
in syntactical arrangement.
22nd. Words having the same or nearly the same sound in their final syllables, ought
as seldom as possible to be allowed to occupy consecutive situations in the same sentence
or member of a sentence. *
23rd. Consistency in the use of the numbers of nouns and pronouns, the moods and
tenses of verbs, accuracy in the use of modifying inflexions, concord among the members
of sentences, correspondence among correlative terms or phrases, and a regularly coherent
dependency of structure and signification, ought to be carefully preserved.
24th. The collocation of our words should never be such as to present to the mind an
inverted order of things, or a violation of the principles of reason and propriety.
25th. Words which signify ideas that are closely related to each other ought to be
closely connected by collocation ; in short, the order of our words should correspond with
the order of our ideas.
26th. Words ought never to be placed in such positions with regard to each oUier as to
give occasion to misapprehension ; in such cases the juxta-position should be altered.
27th. "Unintelligible or inconsistent words, and words or phrases not peculiarly
adapted to the lueid and accurate expression of the meaning intended, must be carefully
avoided.
28th. Everything which has even the semblance of tumidity, jpjeuneness, pnerilitr,
affectation, stifihess, or incoherence, must be regarded as reprehensible.
The structure of sentences may either be grammatical or rhetorical : the former ia the
order in which words are placed in ordinary and unimpassioned speaking or writing; the
latter is that method of collocating words, when not only thought, but also emotion a.ci
passion require to be represented in our speech or writing.
The chief laws relative to the position of words in grammatical structure are the
following, viz. : —
1st. The subject generally precedes the verb.
The nominative may, however, be placed after the verb — (a) when the verb ia neuter; ^h^
"when the sentence is interrogative or imperative; (c) when the sentence begins with
here, there, thither , &c.
2nd. The articles are generally placed immediately before the noun whose sigmficatica
they define.
I
When, however, Uie noxm is qualified by an adjective, the article precedes the adjective :
but the definite article (e^«) is placed between the noun and the adjective all; the indefi-
nile article (o) b put between the noun and the adjectives many and 9uch, as well aa
between Uie noun and such adjectives as are preceded by as, so, foo, hoio, &c.
KHETORIC— XO. IX. 325
drd. AdjectiTet are usually put before tho noons which they qualify.
Bat atijeetives follow noons under the following conditions, viz. — (a) when some cirenmstanee
d«p«ndi OD thea4j*><^^ l {^) when the adjective cxpresiiea dimension ; (c) when it ej^itresses the eflbot
of s tmuitive verb ; [d) oocasionuUy when several at^ectivcs belong to one noun ; (e) when the
ft'ijcctive is employed as a title.
4tb. Adjectires often follow substantive verbs, or past participles.
5iL Praooans are placed inversely, t. e., the third precedes the second, and the second
tltefrst; and relatives follow their antecedents.
CtL Transitive verbs are generally placed before the words which they govern.
Tth. The infinitive mood follows the noun, adjective, or verb, which governs it.
6tli. Adverbs usually precede the adjectives, and succeed the verbs which they qualify;
bat if the verb have an auxiliary, the adverb may be placed between it and the verb.
Adverbii touMtimes follow the objects of active verbs.
&tli. Prepositions, in general, immediately precede the words which they govern.
loth. Coojonctions come between the words, phrases, or clauses which they connect.
"Hie chief law regarding rhetorical structure is, place the most important words and
i^'nsti in those positions in which they will acquire the greatest prominence, and be most
7o e3«ct this, the following, among other variations of the ordinary grammatical stmc-
tJire ire allowable, viz. : —
Ijt The subjective may be placed after the verb.
^ The adjective, if emphatic, may be placed first in the sentence.
3ii A transitive verb may be stationed after the nouns or pronouns which it governs.
^ The infinitive mood may occasionally precede the verb which governs it.
^ Adverbs, when very important, may be placed at the beginning of a sentence.
^ CoDJonctions necessary in ordinary grammatical structure may sometimes be
OBGttei
'th. When we arc desirous of sustainbg the attention, exciting the curiosity, as well as
V^ weight to the sentiments expressed, the most important words may be employed to
^'w the sentence.
^^ have been |thus minute — ^perhaps some may think tediously and minutely so — ^in
Wtioa to a maxim too rashly adopted by Pope, from the Duke of Buckbgham, viz.—
" Nature's chief master-piece is writing well;**
^»hich he himself finds it necessary, in another part of the " Essay on Criticism" to
*«tti»dict, saying—
" Troe ease in writing comes Arom art, not chance,
As those move easiliest who have learnt to dance ;"
^*^*iue we believe in the importance of trifles. We consider that nothing which hinders
^ teatiments ham being properly appreciated, and gaining acceptance from those whom
Wiaddptts, is unworthy of notice, or xmdeserving of hard study to acquire the power of
•*•<% it Seldom do we rightly estimate the value of those seemingly needless minutkB
*^ ^/gtu so difficult to remember, and so hard to practise. But did we note rigorously
^Vaiiy of those who displease us, while hearing or reading them, from the inobserrance
3S6 RHETORIC. — VO. IX.
of little and apparently insignificant points-^id we accarateljr obserre how fastidioos,
nice, and critical we are onnelTes inclined to be, and make np oar minds to the belief that
an eqnal, if not a greater dtgrto of watchfalness and attention is being exercised npon
onrselTes, we would then most likely be impressed with the fact that " little things'* are
not so unimportant as we had imagined. Besides, a carefnl director ought to regard it as
a duty to take every means to perfect his students in the minutest parts of their studies;
for he will always be the most skilful person who is most sensitively alive to the slightest
imperfections. We believe that, so far as regards Style, nature furnishes us with oiT the
elements of which the art ctmsists, but that these elements are not found completely and per-
fectly incarnated, so to speak, in any one object in nature. The mind culls firom each the
most pleasing qualities — those which are best fitted for the purpose in view; it observes,
selects, judges, discriminates, systematizes, and legislates— it observes the individual
qualities which objects display — selects those which appear admirable, judges of their pro-
priety or impropriety — discriminates between the really attractive and the meretiicioas —
systematizes or arranges these in the order of their relative importance — fuses and har-
monizes them together, then gives theso decisions forth as laws to be hereafter observed
by all those who aim at perfection. Thns is Art called into being; thos are her laws
formed ; not arbitrarily and a priori^ but by the strictest inductions regarding the pleasing
the useful, and the ideal. There are, indeed, some
" Namelesi graces which no art can teach.
And which a master's hand alone can reach ; "
but that, surely, is no reason why we ought not to pursue oar researches as &r as we can.
It is not alone beauty of language, minute accuracy in its use, fine thoughts, perfect
syntax, the glow of feeling, or the vivid expressiveness of dictku, ^ bat the joint force
and full result of all," that constitutes a good and pleasing style.
We have not composed this paper as it is without a purpose. We have noticed tliat,
when many minute things are talked of in consecutive sentences and paragnqkhs, the
individual instroctions on each point which it contains do not tiamd fM4 with full and jnst
prominence before the mind, hence the aphoiistic and disjointed style of the present
article. We hope our purpose may be fulfilled, and that the distinctness thns artlficaaUy
given to these remarks may aid in producing that distinctness in the mind which the
importance of the trifles herein brought to view require, and that our studenta may be
enabled to go on with us from perfection to perfection.
;^lftln!ni|i^.
IS WOMAN MENTALLY INFERIOR TO MAN ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— IT.
* ^*'*aSie*^* "***^ ^ ^''^' ^ "****'* *"^ ^ ' ^^' ^^* ^*^« ^^'^ ^"'^ *^ ^^' ^1 ^
Freely, accoiding to eooMmnoe, above aU other chronicled in the page of history as an erent-
liberties." Hiltok. ' fnl and ever-memorid>le era, not ooly m the
THBpresentageisusMitiaUyaprogressiTeipolitieal, historical, and philotophical, hot
IS WOMAN MEJJTALLY IXFEEUOR TO MAN ?
327
also in the social life of that bright « little
ipot'-« dear to all KQ<;li:Ui hearts— our
iilud borne.
Fret int€reourt€, frtt thought ^ and frte
flrtwii, are the mottoes inscribod on every
Iwrt. "Onirard!" is the watchword:— *
•• The people's crj b— * Onwanl ! *
Tht loud Toit-e of their will,
Strung by a proud int«lli|[ceiire,
Is ' UDward-ODward still ! ' "
The creed of the new age has been aMy
Qonciated bj Lamartine. To quote his
floqatnt exposition, — "its f*ith is rcas'jn;
'iTvU are lis organs; the prtss iU apttMft.^'
*tt has higher and nobler aiins — more fer-
]^fflt tspirations — a deeper and stronger faith
JoPcoGiiEiiSiON, tlian to believe thiit
"Tin better to stand still.
For to meddle is to mar ;
Chniitre is ra^b, and ever whs so ; —
We are liappy as we are."
Ia tiw midst of this stirring spirit — tliis
^wid's awakening to industry " — this on-
»ard march of the mind, can wc wonder
^htt some questions which have long remained
^*i in that " niglit of lethargy and idle-
^ WW rapidly ]>assing away," — others,
^ich Lave never yet had a *' clear field "
^ "fair play," should arise, and assume an
^p^rtance never before practically felt?
"< hare hailed, tlien, with pleasure and
Miction, tlie British CuntroversialUt, as
W^f!^ the arena whereon mind may battle
^ Dim], where the darling opinions and
P'ttlwries of man may be boldly confronted,
^^cnttroversy carried on in that calm, yet
Mbie manner, so essential to tlie uprooting
^c^nr, and the establishing of truth.
^ preisent question is one of those which
■* log been enwrapped in the mantle of
l^^adin — long remained ensconced in the
^^ impenetrable fastnesses of that rock,
*^ch, jniarded with especial care and fond-
t ^ hy man, has been almost inaccessible to i
» ^Ih. It would have been our province to j
''^ ton from this question the mantle in .
^ich it had been so long envel«>ped — to have
'''Onned the citadel in which it had so long
*'*iDed entombed, covered with the *' accu-
J^cd dust of ages " but this, we think,
*> already been fully done by C. W., Jun ,
J^'^liy the talented and clever writer of the
^tredoctory Article." We shall, there-
|*B,tQiifine ourselves prineipnlly to a strictly
'*putial eomideration of the arguments
*i umnptioos adduced by some of our
opponents in support of the position they
have taken in this interesting debate.
We propose first, then, to notice the argu-
ments and assumptions of the writer who
has taken for his motto the words, "Woman,
beauty is thy power." Now, believing, as
we most assuredly do, that there is power in
the beauty of woman, and not altogether
disregarding the possession of that power in
man, we yet cannot agree with the apjiartntfy
cheriBhed opinion of ** Senoj," that the power
of woman lies wholly in her beauttf; or, more
than this, that woman is, as ho would have
it, mentally niferior to man. " Senoj," evi-
dently intending to make his ponition im-
pregnable, baldly tells us that "our con-
clusions must be based on the Baconian view
of KupiTiority being taken as the standard
by which the case w to be tested;" or, in
otlier word-*, the '* fruits of the mind, as the
fruits of all things else, are the only means
of rational decision respecting the source of
those fruits." So far the fabric built up by
our friend is good ; but we cannot say the
same of the after-structure; and, combating
" Senoj" on his own ground — fully and freely
allowing that the '' fruits of the mind are the
only rational means of decision respecting
the source of those fruits" — we yet think we
fihall be able to show that our friend has not
made out a "clear and satisfactory case,**
and that he has taken an extremely one-
sided view of the question. It needs not
many words to substantiate this assertion;
and we would not insult our readers by sup-
posing that thoy have not already perceived
this as well as ourselves; but we would ask
thoir attention to the following part of
" Senoj's" article, which we think fully cor-
roborates our position. After deliberately
making the assertion that "there is no way
of estimating the superiority of one mind
over another but that of concisely acconnthig
for tlie labour which it performs, the effects,
the 'fruits,' which it produces," "Senoj"
maintains that "the p«rtnt of controversy,
then, is — Has woman or man wrought the
greatest mental achievements? Are the chief
literary productions, mechanical inventions,
and scientific discoveries, to be. by the voice of
the majority, awarded to woman?" Here,
then, we say, is the proof of our assertion :—
I )oes not the mind bear other fruits than those
which may be classed under the name of 'lite-
rary productions," " mechanical inventiooi,**
326 18 WOMAN MENTAZXY INFERIOR TO SIAK ?
or *' scientific discoveries?" Bold, wo think,
is the man who answers in the negative.
" Senoj " has laid down a standard; but has
show ns difl^rent; and farther than this we
urge — ay, and urge it as a fact incontestable,
and one which will come unscathed from the
he come np to that standard? Has he ' severest test — that there is nothing in the
placed the ^ e£fects," the '* fruits" of the two whole range of speculative inqnirj — of his*
minds, side hy side? Has he upheld these torical or philosophical investigation— which,
to our gaze in all their variety of action — > brought to bear on this question, would lead
dispassionately contrasted the one with the i any unprejudiced and earnest inquirer after
other, and pronounced judgment accord- truth to the conclusion that the sil-wiiie and
iugly? We think not. On the contrary, all-merciful Creator, in ordaining that woman
seeming wholly to forget the standard set should walk in a sphere essentially diflerent to
np by himself, he tells ns that the " chief that of man, did at the same time intend this
literary productions, mechanical inventions, as a proof of inferiority of mind, or that she rvas
and scientific discoveries, being by the voice to be considered in any way an inferior being.
of majority awarded to man," fie must neces- Our opponent next brings a very serious
sarily be superior to woman. Because woman ' charge against woman; but one, happily,
excels not equally with man in these, she which is as unfounded as it is serious.
has a mind of an inferior order! Boader, After admitting that woman does possess
what tliink you of tl^s? Is it an enlarged sometimes (what he calls) an inordinate
and magnanimous view of the question? Is share of mental power, he says, that ** when
it placing the question on those grounds : this power is possessed by woman wo gent*>
which harmonize the nearest with the prin- rally find it abused.** However near or dcaur
ciples of reason and justice? Our friend this creed may be to thy heart, " Senoj," do
seems to have forgot entirely that (to use not, we entreat thee, seek to defend it, or to
the words of C. W., Jun.) " diversity of , blacken woman's character, by first allowing
power is no proof of inferiority;" and, in- her mental power, then asserting that it is
scribing on his banner ^ literary produc- generally abused. Generous man ! We
tions," *' mechanical inventions," *' scientific j would have thee to go with us for a moment
discoveries," sums up with the magnanimous \ to tho&e records of female talent which are
declaration that, " in reference to mental , furnished not only by this country, but by
superiority, there cannot, surely, be matter almost every other on the surface of the
for contest and doubt." We have been thus \ globe — to those whose names and talents ore
particular in noting this part of our friend's now shedding their lustre " o*er the int el-
argument, as it is generally the stronghold! Icctual world" — and how many, think ciit
wherein the upholders of man's mental supe- thou, will be found to have abused that
riority ensc-once themselves, vaunting the mental power, which ought to pro%'e a bless*
impregnability of their position. In their ing rather than a curse? We have a JohanoA
province (says ^ Senoj " ) the " power of ■ fiaillie and a Mrs. BroMming, a Mrs. Kowe
woman's mind is peculiarly adapted for • and a Miss L>andon, a Mrs. Barbauld and a
elimination." Perhaps it is ; and, if we are I Mrs. Grant, a Mrs. Tighe and a Mrs. ILul-
not mistaken, the power of man's mind, in ' cliffe, a Miss Cook and a Miss Martineau,
his province, is as peculiarly adapted for , who, if she had written nothing more thao
elimmation as that of woman. Because we her " Household Education," would have
have a Shakspeare and a Milton, whom man been entitled to the esteem of mankind; we
seems as little likely to equal as woman, we have '* a Catherine Philips, exhibiting th»
are not, therefore, to conclude that the mind ' deceitfulness of pleasure; a Mary 01iandlcr«
of man is not adapted for elimination. Ko! ' proclaiming the blessings of temperance; «
Passing onwards we meet witli the follow- Lady Carew, enjoining the duty of forgive-
ing: — "It might be urged that nature, j ness; an Amelia Opie, teaching the sinful—
intending wonum for a sphere diametrically | ness of war; a Mary Howitt, sweetly sym-
opposite to that of man, formed her with a | pathizing with the wants and sufferings oT
mind adapted for that sphere." We believe the poor," and hundreds of other £amiliar
this to be the case; we ourselves urge it as
names, *' bright and lasting;" and in all wn
true; and we challenge *' Senoj," or any other shall find *'a cheerful love for humanity,
detractor of woman's mental excellence, to noble trust in virtue, and a hoping, clinging;.
IS TTOMAX MENTALLY nTTERIOR TO MAN?
329
eansest petj.** So much, then, for oar
<^poQeQt*s assertion of woman's abuse of
zn-^atal power. Believing, with him, that
** because snch heroines as Grace Darling
and Catherine of Bnssia have honoured the
world, we most not presume that their sex
are to fill the offices in which thej shone,"
we jet think that these, and other names
we coold mention, show that, when necessity
calb for it, woman can show courage eqnal,
if aot superior, to man, and that she is pos-
sessed of mental qnalitics which, when they
have been called into action, have proved
that dke is not
" Such stuff
Am dreams are made of,"
ht3t eqnal, if not superior in many respects,
to mas.
Our next opponent's arguments, we fear.
Will find US very little employment; for, with
thf" exception of one or two particulars,
whish will be noticed in order, we think his
article would have i-ead very well as a
negative answer to the question before us.
I'ansing over his introductory remarks, we
eooe to the following remarkable argument
in irFoar of man's mental superiority, — that
weman, " by the extraordinary means of her
ere^im, is entirely precluded from assuming
a poatioD of superiority over, or independence
cf. Eisn, for she was actually taken from
Hci, and must be considered a part of him-
sdi, and therefore inferior to him." What
itiaoge arguments are brushed up to defend
a poation which is " swiftly tottering to its
^;^ a position which, ages ago, man him-
^ if he had not been blinded by pride,
K^ndice, and envy, would have condemned,
ao^ when fully alive to the folly of an
o^^ffifiite course, would liavo been eager " to
ta^* dured with woman the throne of in-
^^^fcct" — ^to have given her free scope for
^ exercise of her mind — the cultivation
«id development of those noble intellectual
^^teulties bestowed upon her; and in so doing
woald have given to her those rights which
*^ her doe, and from which she has been so
*»g^€BvioQsly withheld. But to our oppo-
^'s argument — "woman, by the extra-
w^aaiy means of her creation, inferior to
*^- We cannot see any connexion between
' ",***^**''ihMi*y means of woman's crea-
*^ ' *^ *^* inferiority or superiority of
*« mentality. Our readers, we feel assured,
»U inataatly perceive the fallacy of this
mode of argumentation : let us follow it up,
and see where it will lead us. Was not
man's creation as extraordinary — yea, more
80 — than that of woman? Man was created
from the " dust of the earth ; " woman from
man ; and that man in the ** image and like-
ness of God" himself. Our inference, then,
must be, reasoning according to the mode of
our friend " Vir, ' that man is inferior to
woman, rather than woman inferior to man.
Again, if we allow that woman is inferior to
man, being taken from him, we must (pur-
suing the same course of reasoning) allow
that man is inferior to the "dust of the
earth," being taken from it. The one inference
is as reasonable as the other. Passing, then,
from this stronghold of our opponent " Vir,"
we are pleased to meet with the following
assertions, which we think fully corroborate
the truthfulness of our position. First, then,
" Vir " allows that " woman, in her sphere,
may fairly be presumed to possess ability
and tact superior to man;'' that the "mental
superiority of man or woman cannot be
ascertained from a partial or a one-sided
view;" that "some women may possess
capacity for learning and acquiring kno^^-
ledge far superior to many men, and, had
they the same advantages, might even sur-
pass the opposite sex in many branches of
literature. Poetically (our friend goes on
to say) woman is often found to excel ; in the
finer feelings and sentiments of the mind
she may, perhaps, be said to bear the
laurels." What more, we ask, is needed to
convince even the most prejudiced and dog^-
matic mind that woman is not inferior to
man ? But, following " Vir," we next
stumble against his comprehensive summary,
that " all these attributes, though beautiful
and valuable, do not constitute mental supe-
riority in the sense in which we are hound t9
understand those terms" If, in discussing
this subject, we are all to have our own
separate and distinct way of wnderstandinff
the terms superiority and vnferUyrity, we had
better never have taken the pen in hand, for
we shall never be able to arrive at a correct
and satisfactory conclusion. " It is," says
'* Vir," ** in the great powers of ruling, sound
judgment, and discretion, that superiority of
mind is to be sought." Now, we think we
may, without much endangering our po^
sition, admit that, in the great powers of
ruling, sound judgment, and, perhaps, dis-
330
18 WOMAN MENTALLY INFERIOR TO MAN ?
cretion, man is saperim* to woman ; but tliat '■
womnn, in conBcquence of not possessing
these powers in equal de>'elopment with '
man, is inferior to him, we emphatically ,'
deny; in fact, the possession of those " finer
feelings and sentiments," which ** Vlr** him-
self has allowed to woman, tends very far to |
prove her eqnality with man ; for we believe,
with T. F. O., that the possession of these
'^superior moral sentiments and social feelings '
fit her in an especial manner for the highest |
of human duties — the exercise of moral |
influence or control over the passions of
others." Wliat man lacketh, woman pos-
sesseth ; and what is wanting in woman, man
can supply.
Our further remarks must, necessarily, be
brief. Feeling assured, then, that our readers
will attach the proper value to the argu-
ments and assumptions put forth by our
two opponents, " Scnoj " and " Vir," we shall
proceed to unfold those reasons which have
induced us, after a careful consideration of
the subject in all its bearings, to aflimi that
woman is not mentally inferior to man. That
woman plays an imjiortant and essential part
in society will not for a moment be ques-
tioned, even by her most invidious detractors ;
but that she is not equal to man in the
exercise of those faculties which belong pe-
culiarly to his sphere — that to her cannot
be awarded the palm of superiority in those
great mental achievements which require
severe and prolonged thought — in the ** great
powers of ruling, mechanical invention, or
scientific discoveries," we fully and freely
admit; and yet even in literature, in *' mental
achievements," woman has won for herself a
well-deserved fame; so high an eminence has
she attained that we are left almost in doubt
whether, if she enjoyed the same advantages
as man, she would not surpass him in many
of those branches of literature which he
claims as peculiarly his own. It is true, we
liave no female Sbakspeare or Alilton; but
what other great poets are there with whom
we have not poetesses to compare? Have
we not a Byron in Miss Landon, a Cowper
in the Countess of Winchilsea, a Spenser in
Mrs. Tighe, a Goldsmith in Mrs. (irant, a
Johnson in Hannah More, a Wycherly in
Mrs. Centlivre, a Collins in Mrs. Hadcliffc, a
Coleridge in Mrs. Browning, a Wordsworth
in Mary Howitt^ a Scott (and more) in Joanna
BMiUle? Or if it sUU be maintained that
some, or even all, of these ladies fail to icidi
the full height of the poets they resemble,
where is to be found the dogmxoist daring
enough to say that the difference is nif-
ficiently great to be set up as a mark of dis-
tinction between the one sex and the other^
Woman mentally inferior to man? Is it sot
degrading to Englishmen — ^is it not a bbt
on the age in which we live — that so abrard
a belief should be held by any? That ear
mothers, wives, sisters — that one-half of the
human race — should be deemed to be en-
dowed with an inferior kind or degree d
intelligence to that which animates the it-
maining portion of the species, is a tbcorjw
monstrous that we can only wonder at ereil
a savage age believing it. The mental ooB-
stitutious of the two sexes are different; the
spheres in which they move are essentiill;
distinct (not antagonistic); but that thil
implies inferiority either in one or the othff
we cannot admit. '* Man rules the mind d
•
the world — woman its heart." Our oppo-
nents themselves have allowed that in masj
points woman is superior to man; and the}
have asserted that in others man is saperiei
to woman. AVhat, then, are we to infer froa
this? Obviously that what the one hxkiA
the other posscsscth ; that woman is in M
way inferior to man ; and that the '* pefftd
character is only fonned by the union of thi
two incomplete parts." The secret of mini
power lies not only in the mascuhne fonna-
tion of his intellect, but also in that of \oi
hody. Man is form^ to ccmimand, to ruk
to exercise a palpable and wide-spread in*
fluence; to him " belongs tlie sway of ((oc^f
ho more especially distinguishes himself d
the senate, on the platform, in camtaetod
and scientiBc pursuits, in the pulfnti andM
the battle-field. The worid looks on tf'
admires the actions of man ; the londtnnfil
of fame is ever ready to sound for hii
whilst woman, putting forth her virtues, Iji
talents, and attractions chiefly in the sodi
circle, lives, we may say, ** unnoticed is
unknown" by the world around her. Wool
sways the all-powerful sceptre of infla«Mi
*' Her province is to soften, round off, smool
down, the irregularities of life and coodud-
to act (gently but unceasingly) npoo tl
swiftly-beating heart of the world, soothil
it into calmness when violent, mildly stin
lating it into action when torpid, and refinii^
puriiying, and exalting its paasioni and •
IS WOXAir MKIITALLT DIFBBIOB TO MAN?
331
toilioos when excited. Home is lier empire,
ffid ifieetiaa her eceptre. It is ben to
(adore, to mktch, to suggest, to inspirit, to
I^ilTigonte, to sostsin. It it hen to oolonr,
ud peffoine, and beentif j the waj of life—
t')sd(>m eztstenoe nod make it mnsicaL It
isbfis to resist sad coontemct the deadening
iaiiaeBoea of the world. Man goes forth to
ia liboar d^ after daj; he performs, day
Bier da J, the same cramping round of duties ;
it is woman's office to presenre him from
li^oniing a mere piece of animated, bat
^fi^hm mechanism. He comes in. contact
*itfa Tiliainj and selfishness; it is hen to
^ afive in his bosom the generous flame
Qfirtue. He falls in with the degraded
^deeeiring; it is hen to prevent their
erjl iafloence upon him, and to keep up a
K^ estimate of humanity. It is hen,
^ the world has dtsgosted him with its
'>«il9«ness, to restore Urn bj the tranquil
%hts of home. It is hen, when misfor-
t&e overtakes him, to cheer him with hope,
^ nppoct his sinking spirits. It is hen
^ preserve in their puritjr the moral sen-
l^seats of his nature. It is hen, while
isdkctual knowledge makes him wise, hj
^3nl pemaaion to render him good. It is
'^ at all seasons to inspire him with a
pcifjiog lore for the beautifnl, and to anchor
^ soal firailj in the everksting rock of
^ififln.'' We have to thank Frederick
Bowton,' author of the "Female Poets of
Great Britain,'' for the above beautiful and
eloquent lines on woman; and we would
advise the stem dogmatist-^the believer in
woman's mental inferiority — to turn to the
pages of that book, where he will see a
"comprehensive and well-arranged gallery
of menial female loveliness — every picture
ranged with artistic skill in its proper light;"
and we think we are not asserting too much
when we say that he will be compelled to
admit that he no longer disbelieves.
Having shown that our position is based
on those principles which time itself cannot
shake — •'. «., Truth, Justice, and Right — we
would conclude, earnestly impressing on
every mind the importance of allowing to
woman those rights from which she has long
been withheld, and in so doing we shall reap
our own reward in its " richest fulness,
and be canying out in practice what is ex-
pressed in the signification of those noble,
yet much-abnsed words, " Libkrtt, Equa-
UTT, and FRATEBNirT.** Then,
*' Hurrah for the miud-march I — the music
That stira among nations of brave ;
That wakes them to war by the spirit,
And sets ap the soul o'er the glaive !
That sheaths the old sword of the tjrant
To revel in peace with the tnt.
And rails upon truth as its syren
To warble in liberty's tree ! "
J. N. C.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
' Sciiher naaon nor Christianity invites woman
'' ** prcrfoHor's chair, nor coudocts her to the
«, aoT makes her welcome to the pulpit, nor
J™ iMB- to the place of ordinary ma«istraey.
They fiMrbid as to hear her itentle voice in
'f??'?*^**«">Wy, and do not even suffer her to
?^ a lbs danrch of God."— Re v. J. A. Jam es.
, '«the same rsaaoa they seldom sncoeed in
'w *^'^***i> <'>> <he iubiects best suited to their
^»w, their natural tnuning rendering them
!S;»ily tvene to long donbt and long labour."—
* 6«eraily speaking, enlarged views of polities
™««>c*— the bold flight of metaphysics— the
*»» conceptions of poecry, which, bursting
r^^iaeUe, soar in the boundless region of
^f]^ aad imacfantioD— era no! in the province
«f»«Mj.--llo«o».
. '^HE <{Qestiai to be debated and decided
* tka-Md preceding writers have forgotten
^-"'W* whether wmnan is moro^ inferior
««Ferier to man, but whether she is men-
^<»-«qMl. MersKty-and that u not
' V»«»-refcn to the ethics, or the
doctrine of the duties of life; mentality is
not a practical or external property, but is
rather that faculty which thinks, studies,
and meditates.
It has been urged, and with good reason,
that judgments deduced from appearances
are apt to be erroneous. To a certain extent
this may be true ; but it remains to be shown
that, without other means by which to obtain
correct opinions, all confidence in this pre-
cept is misplaced. There are but few per-
sons who (while admitting the tmth of that
maxim) are not guilty of frequently ignoring
it. There are, then, but two inferences to
be drawn; viz., that such persons are grossly
inconsistent; or that, while correct in its
general acceptation, the application of the
moral is unressonable, unless there be cer-
tain infallible indications by which we are
enabled to arrive at precise facts. And an
< ' ' : \ "•.■
N lAl.; V
i" > M.' S
<i..l :iii;i_o
^.•5 1.
..a: li..-.
AJ
without ail exception.
These remarks are intended to show, in
order to determine the subject under diitcus-
sion Batisfactorilj, the necessity, iu tbi*
absence of more direct evidence, of an appeal
to the mental productions of the female sex.
Although we may have other means of illus-
trating or conHnniiig our decision, this is tiic
most simple, will admit of less misapprehcn-
aion, and be con&idcrcd, even by our fcmalir
friendt:, as the best for arrivin!:; at legitimate
conclusions.
It must be admitted that but few of the
productions of the female sex are really sub-
stantial works; that is, they are confined to
the fictions class of literature. An appeal
to any London daily iiewsimper will conlinu
this assertion; and I will venture to assert
that five -sixths of the works advertibed or
reviewed will be of the class alluded to.
Now, the question may be asked, Why do
you object to novels, &c? is not there much
benefit to bo received from their piTusid, and
do they not often contain some useful mural?
I reply in the aflirmative; but I will put
another query, and a^k if there is none tliat
can confer /;;reater benefit on the reader
than Bucii a class of works as tliis? Need
I refer to " Eliza Cook's Journal " and
llary llowitfs works as si;;nificaiit illustra-
tion of the truth of my p'^sition? There wo
liave talent devoted to the best of purposes,
and attended with lesis harm, and fear of
alienating the moral faculties, than is con-
sequent upon a perusal of novels ; at the isame
time there is sound, elevating advice given
to purify the mind, to ennoble the heart, and
to render us better adapted for our several
duties and stations iu life. It should be the
aim of xdl writers to depend as little as jKiS-
eible on the speculative and visionary, to
avoid, as far as in them lies, any approach
to the uncertain and phantom -like, and to
shun all topics which avc calculated to fill
the mind with unreal and sophisticated no-
tions. Cannot this be better attained than
through the medium of novels? and cannot
subjects be sought which will convey plea-
sant, though valuable, instrnction, without
involving the necessity of a perusal of some
hundreds of pages in order to obtain it ?
In making these strictures, let it be re-
membered that I make no reference to the
character of talent displayed iu the compo-
on the genius displayed in the conipilaticn v:
novels ; I refer only to their particular cud* «
stitution and subject matter.
The fact that a vast proportion of the
productions of women are of tlio class of thi
novel and romantic, is certainly an iridior
tlon of a ]<romineiit feature in their mtstal
eharacter, and hence the difiercnce between
the sexes. Whilst, with some honoanbli
exceptions, thu writings of our female frifml*
are fictions ur imaginar}', the productions d
the male sex are confined to no class what*
ever, but are distributed over every depiil-
meiit of literature — science, art, educdtidi,
political economy, &c &c. From this afflpji
but veritable fact an inference may be mam*
festly drawn, which appears to my houililt
judgment to be correct, viz., that the mtntal
character of man is more universid in its
application, and hence a corrcspoDdiBf
amount of mental power, of depth, coneen-
trativencss, and cc'iitinuity of thought istbi
necessary and indispensable accompanimeot.
If we survey the vabt number of books vUck
have been left as a leg.Hcy to future ages— tf
we carefully examine their divisioos aal
subdivisions, the various brandies to vbi^
they belong, the labour nnjuircd for tbtf
compilation, and the intensity of thoogbt
which has been evoked, we cannot, I tUnl^
but conclude that the mental and intetiw-
tuiil capacity of man is superior to tLat d
woman.
To mention the honoured names of tfao^
who have immortalized their names by tire'
works would be useless. A little xcfltC'
tion, however, would immediately suggest tbi
old (ireciau and Itoman philosophers, foet^
historians, legislators, and senaton, as «dl
as those of our own country. We shonU te
reminded of Ly eni^gus, Solon, Homer, Socntt^
riato — of Shakspeare, Chaucer, )liHt^
Locke, Luther, Xewton, Byron, 5Iarve!,Bi*'
sell, Bacon, Cowper; and, of our own diT*
Macaulay, Carlyle, Foster, Smith, Epen^
Mackintosh, Washington Irving, Jeffrry,fe
Let it not be thought, howercr, that I sm «
partial to the male as to foiget the writoi
of the ^ softer and fairer sex." It is ^ .
no small gratification that I add thoM d ;
(^neen Klizabetli, Mrs. Ucmans, Fry, MflH^
lloffland, Barbanid ; Mesdamet De StaSi ^
Somer\'ille, Marcet; l^Iiss Martinean, £Ci> '
Cook, 3Iary Uowitt, Madame de Seveigv^i
Z9 vroKA^i ME3rrALi.r ixkerior to 3IAir?
333
lOss £<^ewortb) &c &c. And be it said
thit in eoQineratixig these names there is the
f'l^iachtorj fact that the most of them are
iisxisted with vorks which, while of no
cxnmoD or mediocre character, are valuable,
^QstroctiTef interesting^, and abounding with
£ict lod data profitabie to all readers ; herein
f'Ssists their Talne and intrinsic worth —
t:at sQch works may safelj be placed in the
^is of all readers and of all classes, be
•J^ yotmg or old, grave or gay — ^good, solid,
*ii'i5lastial tmth is incnlcatel in them — it
» «i& rererence, therefore, that I mention
^"^ aathoreases ; for we are aU deeply in-
i4:«d to them.
Bat I refer to the eliaracter of the subjects
mostly sought by female writers in proof of
^ as3erti(m that snch compositions are not
>i'^^}y dependent npon intensity of
r:^3|ht or great mental power; in other
^:<n^, they do not involve any close applica-
*- a to stndy. Unlike philosophical reason-
"7. it 13 not necessary to confine the mind
'9 tie demonstration of certain theories ;
'^? instance, a sermon is intended to illustrate
ti^sabject choaen; now, as all tmth har-
^-^izes, it is clear that the arguments ad-
u=>rd by the preacher mnst be sound,
''cricai, and conclostve. It is not so with
rtsjLace. Taste, in a great measure, varies,
s^'-i bcDee the termination of a tale is as un-
''iam a& the choice of the individnaL Snch
^rki as novels are either founded on fact,
^ ve unconnected with time or circnm-
^^^ts. The latter do not require searching
-■^sti^tioD, minute inspection, or close
&:'Nicatioo, in order to form the subject
^/Her; in the former the groundwork is
:^r^ laid, and only remains to be attired
^ ;th sKh a variation of incident as may be
r.-ist ia accordance with the views, feelings,
^•i desires of the writer. It matters not
^^ the superstructure of the work be sub-
^j&^tly, or the materials of which it is
"^iipQsed; certain it is, facts are sought to
f-TTTi tlae foundation; the result is dependent
^riQ the scddental, individual feelings which
irt coaunon to the author. But on other
^^«ts the difference between fact and fie-
'"^^ is great. Facta have to be obtained
P^ to any superatructure being raised
^^ than. These are not attamed at hap-
Uarf, er by chance; or, if they are, they
^»« to be thonnigUy investigated before
I&7 fbitts progress is made. If this were
not so, future development would be at
variance with them. ** Facts are God^s
truths," and must harmonize, either sepa-
rately or tout eruemblc. We therefore .see
that philosophy is not indebted to fortune,
but rather to the persevering efforts of men
of learning, genius, and talent. It is not
indebted to accidental circumstances, nor
does it owe its present high position to
the caprice of an individual : it is the
result of intense application to study, com-
bined with a due regard to discrimination
and to a judicious selection of those facta
upon which the superstructure is based.
Hence the necessity for the accuracy and
stability of tlie groundwork, lest by any
means future development might prove the
fabric to be of uncertain and untried mate>
rials. My readers will now understand the
distinction which I have drawn — that, ap-
pealing to the writings of our female friends,
we discover infallible indications of their
taste for works of fiction — that the greater
proportion of their writing is of the aforesaid
description — that novels, whether historical
or otherwise, do not necessitate intensity of
thought and study — and that, while it is
intended to convey some moral, it is not
expedient that the author should demon-
strate any truth, or follow and trace out the
relation which such truths have in their
application to other data and principles.
But, to examine this question in another
light, what would be the result were woman's
attention bestowed upon other subjects ?
Divinity, philosophy, science, art, politics,
&c., are lost sight of by them. They pro-
duce no works on such topics. Some opponent
may very properly ask if such subjects are
fitted for woman to expound, or if she is
gifted with those powers of mind which are
suited for such questions; in other words,
the query might be put. Does the mental
power of woman demonstrate that she is
peculiarly adapted to such pursuits? I reply,
that, so far as I am able to judge from scrip-
ture, I do not discover that it was the in-
tention of the all-wise Creator to endow her
with such depth of mental power requisite
for the subjects I have referred to — that Ha
did not seek to place her in that domain, or
fit her for such a sphere. On the other
hand, I am impressed with the conviction
that God adapted each sex to its own pecu-
liar sphere, and accordingly appointed cer-
334
IS WOMA!T MB!rrALL.Y IXFKRIOR TO KAX ?
tain duties and stations for man and woman.
I am farther of opinion that, while the latter
was not intended for mental and stndions
parposes, she was endowed with mental
abilities proportionate to the dnties which
she was to be called npon to discharge; and
that, as her field of action was to be of no
mean character, bat rather intended for the
training of her offspring and the daties of
the domestic circle, she was gifted and en-
dowed with snch mental and moral capabili-
ties as were necessary to enable her to sustain
with hononr to herself, as well as with satis-
faction to those aroaxid her, the heavy and
solemn responsibilities which devolved npon
her.
The relative position of man and woman,
as set forth in holy 'writ, appears to sanc-
tion the assumption of man's mental sape-
riority. St Paul says, "Wives, submit
yonrselves unto yonr own husbands, as unto
the Lord. For the husband is the head of the
wife ♦ ♦.'* And again, "Let the woman
learn in silence with all subjection. But I
enSer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp
authority over the man, but to be in silence.
For Adain was first formed, then Eve. And
Adam was not deceived, but the woman
being deceived was in the transgression."
The natural inference consequent upon the
perusal of these injunctions is, that man, by
reason of the headship, possessed some qua-
lification which the woman did not, or that
he was endowed with a greater share of
mental power than her. Is not this deduc-
tion reasonable? The greater should rule
the less; and, as woman is dependent upon
man for support, for which man himself is
indebted to his mental acquirements, and
feeling that his position in life is of great
and paramount importance, from the risks
he encounters, the difficulties he surmounts,
the trials and misfortunes he undergoes, is
it not fair to assume that her duties, mo-
mentous and important as they are, do not
require so great an amount of talent and
mental labour as that which b essential to
the due discharge of the still more weighty
responsibilities of the husband? I wait for
reflection to suggest a reply.
As man is superior to woman in physical
power, BO he is in intellectual. Nature has
proportioned woman's physical power to her
mental capacity; and, as it is obvious that
an unnecessaiy prepondeiMice of either would
endanger the well-being of the other, we
cannot, therefore, but conclude that woman
is inferior in mental, as she is in physical oc
bodily force.
It has been urged, that if woman has not
proved herself equal in respect to mental
capacity, it is to be ascribed to the limited
and inefficient education which she has
received. Although it is deeply to be re-
gretted that the accomplishmenta which she
receives are not of that permanent or vala-
able character which they might be, y«t it
is to be doubted whetho* instracti<»i would
demonstrate her co-equality in respect to
mental talent with that of man. QemTis
will develop itself in spite of the disadvan-
tages of education. Watt, Galileo, Bums,
Arkwright, Milton, and others, received UlUe
education, yet perseverance, patience, and
industry crowned their efforts with sncoeBS.
If the mental character is of any worth \K
will develop itself, whatever be the obstacles
which impede its progress.
In concluding this very oomplicatei tsA
certainly discursive subject, a few words
suggested during the penning of this article
may not be unimportant. It may, possWAy,
be thought by some (especially by the ladies)
that I have been somewhat severe — that I
have not made allowances for orcnmstances
which are, unfortunately, associated with
the sex — that I have not been as enthusiastic
in applauding their virtues and literary ex-
cellences as I have been zealoos In pointing'
out their mental deficiencies. To snch I
would reply, that I have only Skdvaziced what
I conceive to be in unison with ezperieneej
and dictated by reason. The ladies must
have been prepared to receive evidence coin^
cident with that which I haTe tendered, oi|
I should have withheld these ronarks. I
have not omitted to deplore ih« neeesaity foj
more education among females generaUy. I^
this age mere accompliabmenis are too'oUd
sought rather than solid, sufaetantaal kno«^
ledge. Music, dancing, drawtng, painting
&c, may be essential to complete the ediica
tion of ladies, in order to aoahle them i
amuse and to please; but let not that be fo^
gotten which will please wheal beaaty b^
faded, when the musio of tha voice is i
longer charming to the ear, and that of u
fingers is lost in the inability to appEvcial
sound — in a mind stored with knowledd
and a chanicter nndered ptwiiuy bj thd
18 WOMA9 MRMTALLT DSrSBIOR TO MAN?
335
tuitg which are the natural property of the
ianale aex, and which fail not to win the
idiDintkn of alL Among men of lense and
Bieral politeness, a woman who has sncoess-
faflr cddTated her mind, without diminish.
hg ihg gentleness and proprietj of her man*
am, is shrajs snre to meet with respect
ui attntkn bordering on the enthnsiastic.
I bare said that, so far as I have been
oaUed to judge, in respect to mental ca-
picitT, we must accord to man the palm of
sQperioritr. To the unequal, raried, and
^SenaA standards of mental power which
oiat between man and woman is to be
ucribed the present happiness which we
Qjor, IS well as the high position which is
Uji^ attained in all things. As the voca-
^ of nan and woman are each adapted
to diaimiUr purposes, so has God ordained
tb: the mental capacity of either sex shall
U soited to its duties and stations in life.
A« Baa is called upon to discharge certain
•ScBk, SO has his mental ability been fitted
Kcorijagly; and so it is with respect to
*9BaB; and, as Uie relationship of talent is
Tvied, so it renders it a difficult matter to
^td^ which is mentally superior. Their
!?iM>te of action, as their talents, are wisely
latlifini for different ends. I am not in-
*^9Mhie to the value of female productions;
^ tptaking honestly, I beUere some of the
^ntii^ of sur female friends to be fully
t^ m power to those of men. Oftentimes,
^^ depressed by languor and exhaustion,
I ^sve MOght relief in female writings, and
^?««a eoBMlatioa therefrom. Feelings, die-
Uted by a natare unknown to man, are there
^v^M, wfakb cannot but have a beneficial
tad pnai iafliMnee on his character. .Mo-
n£tj is woDum's domain; to teach, to in-
^^^^ sad to edify the heart, is her peculiar
"P^: sad then, in those traits which so
^^stogoiab her scx^fortitude, loog-suffer-
^. Ifindnesa, fiorbearanee, gentleness, pa-
^^«K», aflectioo, and those moral faculties
*^ieh hare tbeir seat in the heart— she
^^*^ Her oOoe is to teach the heart--to
^tttare it in the attainment of piety, oider,
.attice, wiltae— flod to instil into the minds
u?* y*""i ^**"* «n»d, but moral princi-
^ which shall act as their guides through
.-*• The danestie drde is her domain:
."T^J^^wiftti supreme. To comfort and
* the husband when misfortunes
cherish sad inrigorate his
spirit when cast down by trouble — to con-
tribute her gentle counsel and encourage-
ment when he is undecided what route to
take — to share his hopes, his joys, his
anxieties, and his exultations— to comfort
him in the sick chamber — to add a balm to
his wounded heart — appears to be her natural
and loTed prorince.
Our own happiness is bound up in her
existence amongst us. The most delightful
companion that we hare, she can very often
tarn the scale of our destiny, for good or
evil. As such great and incalculable re-
sults depend upon her, let us not be un-
mindful of her education and training, in
order to avert evils which would be inimical
to our moral and social well-being. The
instruction of woman improves the stock of
natural talents, and employs more minds in
the elevation oif the world ; it increases the
pleasures of society, by multiplying the topics
upon which the sexes take a common in-
terest, and makes marriage an intercourse of
understanding as well as of affection, by
imparting dignity, importance, and worth to
the female character.
I must apologize for this digression from
the more immediate subject under discussion ;
but as I considered that some remarks on
woman, morally and socially considered, with
passing hints on her education, were duo
from me; and as, after the strictures I have
made, some apology was due for their severity^
I thought it consistent with my subject, and
just to myself, to express my sentiments
on the morality of this topic, seeing that it
is inseparable from the question of the mental
capacity of the sexes.
A few words in oondusion, more especislly
addressed to the ladies, and I have done. If
I have offered anything in this article which
is in the slightest degree calculated to hurt
their feelings, I sincerely ask pardon. Should
they, on the other hand, suppose that I am
in any vay prejudiced against them, I beg
to assure them that they are mistaken. I
have endeavoured, honestly hut conscien-
tiously, to express my own convictions; and
if I have advanced any opMaofsr, or given
utterance to any sentiments^ which are ai»-
ta(fonistic to truth and justice, they are not
to be attributed to the slightest prtjudica
on my part, but to the secret and intneate
vineUmys of the theme before me, they having
precluded me from arriving at oonclosioitf
336
WERE TOR EFFECTS OF THE CRUSADES FAVOURABLE TO THE
which (if the conTone of my position be
truej and proTiding that I entertaioed it)
would hare afforded roe the gratification of
according to the ladies a greater share of
nentat power than I at present believe them
to possess, and would also have enabled mo
to add that there were good grounds for sup-
posing (through scripture) that God had
endowed both sexes with a co-equality of
mental talent. Unhappily, circumstuoes
do not impel roc to take that view of the
subject, and I feel persuaded that my female
friends would much sooner pardon me £»r
adopting ihU than the reverse phase of the
question ; as, however pleasing the latter
view would be to my own feelings, any lin-
dication of it would involve a violation of the
true dictates of my conscience. J. G. K.
;Sistnn[-
WERE THE EFFECTS OF THE CRUSADES FAVOURABLE TO THE
CIVILIZATION AND MORAL ELEVATION OF THE PEOPLE ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
*' A nerve was touched of exquisite feeling, ami
tftie sensation vibrated to the heart of Europe." —
GiBDOx, "VecHtu and Fall," chap. Ivii.
Philosophers and historians have, in
the question before us, found a theme both
for learned disquisition and disputation, and
also for sound reasoning and useful reflec-
tion; therefore it may not be unreasonable
for us, in our humble way, to hope that the
discussion in these pages may be fraught
with some good. The question certainly
opens a wide field of research for our young
historical readers.
Did the Crusades promote the civilization
and moral elevation of the people? We think
so; and the reader shall have our reasons by
which we have arrived at this conclusion.
The Crusades arose out of a spontaneom,
and, BO far as most of Europe was concerned,
a general effort on the part of the human
mind to get into action — to rid itself of the
numy fetters which had impeded its develop-
ment. Circumstances were never more
favourable for the attainment of this end
than at the moment from which the Cru-
sades date their rise. Cluvalry was held in
the highest esteem throughout most of the
countries of Europe, and it only required to
be animated by reli^ous enthusiasm to call
into existence a power which has never been
equalled.
It was towards the close of the eleventh
eentory that these two influences amalga-
MuUwL Jn the days of chivalry the outward
observances of religion, at least, were hddit
the highest esteem. It was customary fiv
the Christians of Europe to make pilgriina|EM
to tbe Holy Sepulchre : and so long ai tin
caliphs of Bagdad, and after than tbi
fatimidcs of Egypt, possessed Palestine, tki
Christians were not checked in this religio0
practice; but wbcn the Turks h.<id conqoOii
Palestine, the hospitality of tlie Arabs giTi
way to the brutahty of the new possesson,
and religious pilgrims were subjected to titf
greatest vexations and annoyances. It tni
then that Peter the Hermit commenced )Bt
mission, and the eloquence with whicli U
depicted the wrongs and cruelties sustaioci
by the pilgrims did, indeed, create a aeoa-
tion which " vibrated to the heart of Ennpft'
The mmds of the christian warriors beesM
inflamed; and although at first they oi^
demanded a free pilgrimage to the E^f
Sepulchre, the contest soon came to be forthi
actual possession of Jerusalem.
The Crusades commenced, as we \aM
seen, at the close of the eleventh centiiyf
and continued in operation for the two us*
ceeJing ones, during which time, either oit"
jointly or distinctly, nearly all the gnttk
powers of Europe took part in them, sal
were therefore more or less brought into frH
quent contact with each other. Then cm
be no doubt but that they exercised a Tut ift*
flnence, for good or for evil, over the destiriN
of Europe. We have said that we befiM
this influence was for good, and we ahaU ifli
CIVniKATIOX AND MOBAL ELSVATIOH OV THIS PEOPLE?
337
pneted to qnote our authorities in sappcvt
cf net belief.
We toni first to Gibbon, who, as onr most
phUawphic historian, is likely to have given
tbe qaettion before ns matnre consideration.
We fiod him obTionsIy disposed to give no
mac credit to the inflnence of the Cnisades
tbm tnxth absolatel j denaands ; but he makes
tiie feUowiog admis^ons and declarations,
^Mch are abimdant for our purpose: —
^ About the eleventh century the second
ficapest had subsided, \ij the expulsion or
axrenion of the enemies of Christendom:
t^ tide of civilization, which had so long
«b6ed, b^gan to flow with a steady and
S£ccl«nfied course, and a fairer prospect was
spofed to the hopes and efforts of the risins:
goientiaa. Great ita* the incrtaae, and
^'^ipid tKe progr€4», during the two kuttdred
,«n of the Crusades* Again:— "The
^sjver portioii of the inhabitants of Europe
*se chained to the soil without freed<Hn, or
fnpntv, or knowledge ; and the two orders
«t eodesiastics and nobles, whose numbers
*CT« comparativel J small, alone deserved the
^Bo» of citizens and men. This oppressive
fTjtem was supported by the arts of the
ciergy and the swords of the barons. The
Kihoiitj of the priests operated in the
iuker ages as a salutary antidote: they
prensxted the total extinction of letters,
Qitigatcd the fierceness of the times, shel«
tend the poor and defenceless, and preserved
w lerived the peace and order of civil society.
^ the independence, rapine, and discord of
^ feudal lords were unmixed with any
Knblaoe of good; and every hope of im-
ftvreaat and industry was crushed by the
"^ weight of the martial aristocracy.
Awm^ ike causes duU undermined that
f'Otkie edifice, a conspicuotis pidce mnst be
'Ui^ttd to the Crusades. The estates of the
t^rcaa were dissipated, and their race was
«dtea extingnishedi in these costly and pe-
nloas expeditions. Their poverty extorted
from their pride those charters of freedom
^iicft tmlocked «*" fetters of the slave, «-
ntnd the farm of the peasant and the shop
^f the artiJUser, and gradual^ restored a
nbilaaee and a soui to the most numerous
fnul useful part of the community. The
eocfiagratioii whieh destroyed the tall and
lencn tnes of the forest gave air and scope
to the vegetation of the smaller and nutritive
pUnts cf the ami."
Hume, the great English historian, bears
testimony to the good services rendered by
the Crusades in arousing mankind from
that state of degradation into which they
were rapidly falling at the period of their
commencement. He says, ^ Europe was at
this time (1096) sunk into profound igno-
rance and superstition : the ecclesiastics had
acquired the greatest ascendency over the
human mind. ♦ ♦ • Aft the ffreat lords
possessed the right of peace and war : they
were engaged in perjyetual hostilities with
each other : the open country was become a
scene of outrage and disorder ; the cities,
still mean and poor, were neither guarded by
walls nor protected by privileges, and were
exposed to every insult: individuals were
obliged to depend for safety on their own
force, or their private alliances; and valour
was the only excellence which was held in
esteem, or gave one man the pre-eminence-
above another. When all the particular
superstitions, therefore, were united in one
great object, the ardour for military enter-
prizes took the same direction; and Europe,
impelled by its own ruling passion, was
loosened, as it were, from its foundations,
and seemed to precipitate itself in one united
body upon the East." Sorely it was time
for some change I But to our next autho-
rity.
" Better,** says Macaulay, our fireside his-
torian, " that the rude inhabitant of the
North should visit Italy and the East as a
pilgrim, than that he should never see any-
thing but those squalid cabins and uncleared
woods amidst which he was bom. * * In
times when statesmen were incapable of
forming extensive political combinations, it
was better that the christian nations should
be roused and united for the recovery of the
Holy Sepulchre than that they should, one
by one, be overwhelmed by the Mahometan
power. ♦ ♦ ♦ Its eflect was to unite the
nations of Western Europe into one great
commonwealth. ♦ ♦ ♦ Thus grew up sen-
timents of enlarged benevolence." Again :-^
'^The islanders returned with awe deeply
impressed on their half-opened minds, and
told the wondering inhabitants of the hovels
of London and York that near the grave of
St. Peter a mighty race now extinct had
piled up buildings which would never be dis-
solved till the judgment day. Learning
followed in the train of ChristiwiityJ*
2d
SM
WBRB THB EFFECTS OF THE OKUSADES FAVOORABLB TO THE
Goizot, in bis ^ Historj of CiTilization in
Europe,'* takes a still more extended view of
the subject, and all who feel anj interest in
this question should read and study his
chapter on the Crusades. Confirming the
dark picture already drawn by the historians
we have quoted, of the state of men and
morals previous to this time, he remarks,
** The maui characteristic of the Crusades U
their universality. All Europe together took
part in them; they were the first European
occurrence. Previous to the Crusades, Eu-
rope had never been moved by an identical
49entiment, nor had acted in one and the
same cause; there tMU, injitct, no Europe.
The Crtttades unfolded a Chrittian Europe,
The French formed the bulk of the fint
army of the Crusaders, but there were also
Oermans, Italians, Spaniards, and English*
men. Take the second or the third Crusade,
all the christian nations were engaged in
«ach. Nothing similar had ever lieen wit-
nened. This was not alL In the same
manner as the Crusades were an European,
80 were they in each country a national
€vent. In each nation all classes of society
were animated with the same conviction,
obeyed the same idea, and abandoned them«
i^elves to the same enthusiastic impulse.
Kings, lords, priests, burghers, husbandmen —
all took the same interest and the same share
in the crusades. A moral unity amonff$t the
nations broke forthy a fact €u novel at the
European unity.^ And he continues: —
"When such events occur in tiie youth of
nations, in those times when they act spon>
taneously and from free impulse, without
premeditation, political intention, or govern-
mental combinations, we acknowledge them
to be what history calls heroic eventa, and
to evidence the heroic age of nations. The
Crusade* vere^ in fact, the heroic era of
modem Europe^ a movement at once indivi'
dnaland (fentrol^ national and ye< unguidedJ*
And now for the more direct beneficial
results. " It is," says Gnizot, *' mere com-
monplace to say that the mind of a traveller
is set free, and that the custom of comparing
different nations, manners, and opinions, ex-
pands the ideas and clears the judgment
from ancient prejudices. Now the same fact
occurred to theee travelling populations who
have been called Crusaders; their minds were
opentd and tleratedbg the mere circumstance
of wUnessiaff a multitude of different things.
and bjf becoming acgutunied with mtamert
distinct from their own.^
Listen also to one of the most leaned
men of which France can boast, M. Abel
Remusat, whom Guizot quotes in aopport of
the opinions above advanced: — ^**A11 tfaesa
unknown travellers carrying the arts of their
own countries into distant lands, brought
back others not less .predoos, and made,
without perception on tlieir paits, more ad*
vantageons exchanges than all those d com-
merce. By these means not only the trade
in silks, porcelain, and Indian commoditieay
became extended and more practicable, epeo-
ing up new routes to oommerdal indoatiy
and activity, but— what was of still fUPMler
consequence — foreign manners, ankaowa
nations, and extraordinary productioiis,
crowded upon the minds of Europeans, re-
pressed since the fall of Bome into too narrow
a circle. Tbey began to estimate properly
the finest, the best peopled, and the meat
anciently civilized of the four qnartecs of
the globe. They .set about studying the
arts, creeds, and idioms of the nations who
inhabited it, and there was even a pitgect
for establishing a chair of the Tartar lan-
guage in the univeiaity of Paris. Bomaatie
accounts being soon investigated and Talaed
as they deserved, spread on all sides more
just and comprehensive ideaa. The wtodd
seemed to open on the side of the £aat;
geography made a prodigiona stride; and an
ardour for discoveries became the iiew direc-
tion which the adventurous spirit of Earape
feU into."
Maunder, one of our modem writcfa, thus
expresses himself on the same sabiaet: —
** By means of these joint enterpriaea the
European nations became more eoonected
with each other; feudal tyranny was weak*
ened; a commercial interoenrse took place
throughout Europe, which greatly augmentevi
the wealth of the cities; the human nuiul
expanded ; and a number of arts and sdenoes^
till then unknown by the westeni wtL,^^,,^,^
were introduced.**
A writer in the recent edition of tl»«
*' National Cydopesdia'* ahM gives «a bU
testimony on the same side: — ^"It cannot l»e
denied that the Crusades were acoempaiMvi
by many beneficial effects. Seeh, for io^
stance, were the increased activity of pJi^irmA
life in Europe; the breaking up of the feocial
system, by the sale of estates to the
civiuzATiox Aan> xokal elkvatiom or this pboplb?
839
tbants in exchange for the mooej required
bjr Uie lubia for their military accoatre>
DKots and ]KDTisioQ8. The increased wealth
«f the mercantile towns in Italj, which led
to the reriral of the fine arts and sciences in
that country; and, finally, the diffusion of
OKR fiberal modes of thinking in matters of
pyrentment and religion, occasioned hj the
ialscoorae of the western and eastern na-
taHa."
Enough of proof, so far as proof can he
«^sliied, has been adduced for our present
pupM: and we hare now simply to antici-
pate one or two of the usual objections urged
ipatai our view of the case, and then leave
tl^ qaestioQ for the present in the hauds of
«^ readers.
It has been frequently urged, that what-
fTff good resulted from the Crusades was
risplj accidental, being neither sought after
scr expected. It would answer the present
oqiiiTj simply to show that, in the end, no
nil barm ensued. But we prefer to deal
liberdly with the question. So long as any
^bsmrity attaches to the real origin of the
Cnisada, BO long they will remain liable to
rosooastruction and misrepresentation. We
nj tltt ** real origin," because we look upon
tb«s(irit which first animated the Crusaders
*i dtitioct and apart from the recovery of
tl« lH(Aj Sepulchre from the hands of the
lofideU. The real accident was the occur-
'»^e, at the precise moment, of a pretext to
^ve ooloiir and scope to the great drama
>^j for performance. We believe the true
mission of the Crusades was the emaocipa-
tion of the human mind. It may be that
this mission was only felt, and not ackmow^
ledgedf by the immediate acton; but, never*
tbeless, it was well and nobly performed.
Lastly, there are those who become so
completely absorbed in the contemplation of
the horror and misery which naturally at-
tended such perilous expeditions, that tljey
entirely overlook the final result. " Look,"
say they, " at the immense sacrifice of human
life! See the immense amount of property
lost in the undertaking, and the consequent
amount of misery and destitution whidi
must have followed." Remember, reader,
however much you may deplore the fact, that
in the early progress of European civilization
and liberty you have the din and horrors of
war ever ringing in your ears. Happily,
those days have passed away ; but, for this
very reason, measure not the past by the
standard of the present.
** Time ehangea mueh the aurfane of (be world !
Where once t2M» fiomaa raanballd bis bold
host,
Bristling with swords and spears the rocky
height,
The shepherd (ends hia flook, and the young
Iambs
In sportive gambols tread the flow'ry turf."
He, it has been said, who would under*
stand history aright, must transport himself
in imagination to the scenes and times nar-
rated. Let this be done in the present case.
We ask no more : we shall be content with
no less. C. W., Jun.
KEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
Is looking abroad upon the present state
^tU people of Europe, and comparing that
s^att «ith the accounts which have been
trsssButted to us from the eleventh, twelfth,
Aod thirteenth centuries, we find that nations
*hkh were then semibarbarous have become
ctnlixed; that those who "sat in darkness
^d ia the shadow of death," have seen a great
Tight — Uie light which is emitted by the
^ of Bighteonsness ; that those who were
csptivta — slaves, under the hands of feudal
•firiS have gained their liberty, to a very
<^:>imdcrable extent, and are in a fair wuy for
reodering that liberty complete; that the
t^^om, which at that time ruled the nations
*ith an iron rod, has lost a very considerable
l^MioQ of its power, and some of the nations
have even dared to think for tliemselves in
matters of religion, so far as to set up rival
systems, and that thus, instead of uniformity,
diversity has become the order of the day^
and, further, that in those cases in which
nations have diverged most from the Stan*
dard of opinion, the happiest effects have,
for the most part, resulted.
It is but natural, in looking upon the
changes which have thus taken place, and
the progress which firom time to time is being
made, to inquire into the causes which have
been at woric, and to which this transition
and progress can fairly be attributed; and
closely to canvass the claims of every fresh
candidate who ste])s into court and demands
to share in the honour.
S40 WBRB THK KFPECT8 OP THE CRUSADES FAVOtmABLE TO CIVILIZATION?
The candidate whose claims come tmder
consideration at the present time, is that
seriesof wars which was begnn in the eleventh,
and continued to the middle of the thirteenth,
centnrj, and which, owing to the circum-
stances of its being fought under the standard
of the cross, has been designated the Cru-
sades.
The scat of these wars wbs Palestine;
their object the recoTCiy of that country, or
more particnlarly of Jerusalem, from the
hands of the Turks, in order that free access
might be given to the pilgrims of different
nations who professed the christian religion,
and who went to visit and paj homage in the
place where the Saviour lived and suffered ;
and the aggressors were persons from most
of the countries of western Europe, but
principally from Germany, France, and
England.
The Crusades were cooceived in error,
carried on in madness, and ended in disaster.
They originated in the idea that a pilgrimage
to Jerusalem could cancel the sins of a vicious
life; that to fight in defence of religion is a
most sacred duty, and to kill an infidel is an
acceptable religious service. They were
carried on at the most reckless expense of
property and life; for, while the nations who
engaged in these wars were impoverished,
not fewer than two millions of precious lives
were sacrificed. And they ended by leaving
the very object for which they were under-
taken, as far from being accomplished as
when they were commenced.
And what did the nations of Europe
get in exchange for so much money and
blood? The various orders of knighthood
are said to have been originated, surnames
and heraldry instituted, and the rough
German to have first conceived a taste for
the arts.
Allowing that these, especially the last,
may have done somewhat to promote civili-
zation, it must still remain a question whether
the habits which they who had the good
fortune to return, had contracted during the
wars, did not far more than counteract all
the good which resulted. As far as our own
country was concerned, the evidence of his-
tory appears pretty conclusive : beside suffer-
ing fx^m the absoice of her king, who was
honoured to share in the war, and being well
fleeced, first for the expenses of the war, and
then for the ransom of the sovereign, the
state of society in England, during and after
the Crusades, appears to have been of the
most unhappy description. The circumstance
that, out of a reign of ten years, the^ king
spent but little more than four months in his
kingdom, and in the midst of his people,
together " with the fact that his whole life
was spent in war, or in preparation for war,
will prove that the internal state of the
country was anything but satisfactory. A,
people who were called to look upon the
whole of Europe as one great arena for royal
{riadiators — a people so familiar with war and
blood — a people whose resources had been
drained, and whose property and lifo were
held of comparatively little value, were not
likely to make much progress in civilization
and refinement; yet who can doubt that a
progressing and uplifting civilization would
have done more for humanity and religion,
tiian the most snccessful crusade that ever
was undertaken?"*
If the introduction of the arts, throuirh
the Crusaders, may hare done somewhat
towards civilizing the people, the very fact
that the Crusades were tcarsy is a fearful one
to counterbalance this circumstance. " There
is nothing improving, nothing elevating in
war." While it is being carried on the worst
passions of humanity are excited; and when
it is over, and there is no common enemy
against whom to exercise it, it is bronght
to bear against friends and neighbours. It
is but a narrow view which men take of vrar
to suppose that the entire loss of the con-
quered is included in the sum of men and
money which may be expended ; to this must
be added the depreciation which the morals
and manners of the people undergo for at least
some fifty years after. Perhaps it would not
be too much to add to this account a large pro*
portion of the criminals which from time to
time inhabit our prisons: for if it be right to
rob and murder innocent persons of anothor
nation, it cannot be far wrong to treat
similar persons of our own country in the
same manner. While governments make usie
of soldiers to do the one, it is only reasonable
to suppose that the soldiers, after being dis-
charged, will not scruple to do the other.
Add to this the sum of the other evils which
usually attend the camp, and which are »s
usually indulged in after a war, and it may
• Dr. Ferguson's '* England.**
OUGHT MOXKY TO BE INTRUtSIC OR SYMBOUCAL ?
341
be hitlj qnestMHied whether any accidental \ to conclude that, on the whole, the effects of
|ood which maj accme from war is sufficient the Crusades were not favourable to the
to compensate for the certain evil.
Tsking this view of the matter, we are led
cwilization^ much less to the moral elevation,
of the people. G. N.
:^olitirs.
OUGHT MONEY TO BE INTRINSIC OR SYMBOLICAL ?
INTRINSIC— CONCLUDING ARTICLE.
Tbis discussion now approaches its close.
^ith this number the final dialectical passes
%)^veea the principals will be exchanged,
vA diss will have ended thb political
^IHid, in the form of a debate—
The clash of ariguments, and jar of wordj.**
Mn Bull is the next actor on the field.
HhadfYsiB own hobb^, and his "pocket"
tbe haUowed «i»ctom, to give his decision as
amjare must be a vital act. But finxmce is
the riddle of his life— a "will-o'-the-wisp"
'viiidi sometimea produces ridiculously blun-
itraig effects. Luckilj, as to the present
>:oestbn there can be no fear of his safety.
He is a stout hater of " sweeping changes,"
ud his verdict against "shadows," "flim-
sies,*' ^precious paper money generally, will |
te l^ another repetition of former decisions.
Old cpnions are strengthened by opposition.
^> vith old systems. But, happily, debates
U« titt present are healthy forerunners of
rsfonastioa.
SatisfiMtion cannot but be felt at the
splnt in which our question has been met
^ answered. On both sides there has
b«3sii ft> Uck of sincerity blended with cour-
tc^. But, though our opponents have en-
forced respect for their arguments, they have
net ^lecared our perception of the fallacious-
ne&3 which clings to them.
Among our opponents* views are some
Wing a s]^ritual cast. These deserve prior
esB^deration and settlement. J. H. and
Junes Harvey, who may be one and the
tame person, are their sole promulgators.
Stxrtii^ fnxn a pdnt as sublime as it is
Werolcnt, J. H. would institute symbolical
aosxy because it would be a practical solu-
tkai of the vague problem, how the rights of
labow are to be reconciled with the rights
<2f IKD^erty. England, it seems, has bungled,
and is still bungling, about this problem.
" What," he asks, " is free trade, or the edu-
cation question — the former 'a doubtful
benefit,' producing insignificant fruits!—
compared to *the question of employment
for the people?* " Statesmen, political eco-
nomists, even prophets, have neither seen nor
foreseen the true social panacea; but, as dis-
covered by J. H., it is the plenteous manu-
facture of money. He would have money
plentiful enough to pay for the employment
of all, fallaciously thinking it would cause
the employment of all. Resting on the
many suppositions that money is something
more than the organ of demand — that supply
can never be in excess of demand — that
" cheap money and dear commodities " are
preferable to " dear money and cheap com-
modities'* (in the same way that a circular
pound weight is preferable in accuracy to a
square pound weight) — J. H. and James
Harvey prophecy, as incident to abundant
symbolical money, that " every man should
be at work, every steam-engine in full opera-
tion— that poor-rates might be annihilated,"
&c. Does not the millennium noic clearly
"loom in the distance?" —
" When every transfer of earth's natural gifts
Shall be acommerceof good words and works'*—
(Sbellkt)
when Hobbes' antithesis may be read—
" Money is the tcords of wise men, and the
counters of fools?"
" Oh ! happy earth, reality of heaven ! **
After this it would, indeed, be strange if
we had not a " religious element" in our dis-
cussion. Mr. Harvey readily introduces one.
He, evidently, is less an advocate for a purely
symbolical currency than an abhorrer of gold.
He is a sincere mammon-hater. "As Egypt
chose an onion for a god," so he personifies
d4a
OUGHT MONEY TO BB INTRINSIC OR STMBOUCAL?
gold and mtrinsic monej generallj as the
great arch-distribntor and father of filthy
lucre and renal cormption. " Gold money,"
hO'SajS) " has been an unmitigated curse to
the people of the earth," and " is typified in
the worship of mammon, denounced in scrip-
tures." But will paper money elevate hu-
manity to a purer spiritual state? Will the
miser*s soul be quenched, or the organ of
acquisitiveness never be abused, when once
this paper-pound panacea for human de-
pravity is in&tituted? To some "the very
light of heaven is venal ; ** but Mr. H. appa-
rently abnegates this quality to paper money.
Not 80 thought the satirist : —
" Blest p«}»er-credit ! last and best supply,
That lends corruption lighter wings to fly."
Pope.
But politico-economic science admits not
of the introduction of either Utopian or re-
ligious elements. The sound sense of our
readers will, we trust, cause their eschewa),
and so fit their minds for more legitimate
argumentation. And, first, we must express
our surprise at Mr. Harvey's nervous repu-
diation of our doctrine that " the true theory
of the currency can only be that which prac-
tice has taught us." Why, it is upon this
Tery doctrine he reasons against intrinsic
money. Arguing from financial history, he
infers the nation-saving utility of symbolical
money. France, America, and Great Britain,
he asserts, were saved from ruin in momentous
exigencies — the first by its assignats, the
second by its continental money, and the
third by its restricted cash payments. Yet
he scouts experience as a tester of seemingly
theoretic truths, and in a lively strain of
analogical ridicule crushes the great doctrine
upon which we had fondly built, and from
which he draws all his condemnatory in-
ferences. Nevertheless, he will catch at a
straw. " Practice is not altogether against
us I" he exclaims; as witness the exchequer
tallies, or wooden money, which once existed
even in this country, and wliich was a sym-
bolical money, and for internal uses. Why,
our opponent must have forgotten that the
money of most savage races is also mere
tokens. So with them, indeed, practice is
not against him. But how happens it that,
with civilization, money invariably advances
in intrinsicality or worth; and that every-
where, in great emergencies, that money-
cfaaracteristic is departed from, a resumption
is always consequent upon the decadence of
the forth-calling emergencies? We will not
say " a divinity has shaped" these ends; btit
it is none the less true that exchequer talHes^
as&ignats, continental money, and incon-
vertible British paper money, now rank
among the things that were.
Mr. Harvey, apparently, has yet to learn
that there are such distinctions as a natural
and an unnatural demand for money. Ad
intrinsic currency, we confess, as it is the
growth of political nature, can do little more
than answer natural political requirements.
Its expansion foUotcg the expansi«i of pro-
duction and commerce. Like its antecedents,
therefore, it is of slow development. The
individual in want of sustenance must work
for it ; when In want of money, he must do
the same. It' his expenditure, whether con-
ducive to future gain or not directly pro-
ductive, is great, he must by labour, skilful
outlaying, and careful husbandry, first acquire
the necessary means ; but if, like the spend-
thrift, he live and purchase expensively upoQ
credit alone, he is a non-producer, and is
pursuing a course equivalent to circulating
a false or factitious money, having no pro^
spcctice value. He is a non-producer, beoaosc
he wastes commodities, and neither multiplies
his own nor his neighbour's stock. Of coarse,
as it is with the natk>n, so it is with the
individual. Now, it is remarkable that tran-
sitions from an intrinsic into a symbolical cur-
rency have always been the temporary resort
of states in this condition of spendthrift cr.
When France became " a nation of soldiers '*
it required an artificial money, not the fprowth
of labour, to pay for sustenance and the ex-
I penses of gigantic enterprises, increased in
price as they must have been by the scarcity
of labour. The credit upon which the assig-
nats obtained currency hung upon the bloody
points of Gallic bayonets. Armies are non-
productive; they waste particular commodi-
ties without ever adding to the general stock.
Moreover, they drain their own countries of
their intrinsic money to pay for what they
consume in other states; for the credit xrhich
forces the circulation of factitious money at
home is effete abroad. From these facts oar
readers will easily understand the tme
ground upon which rests Mr. Harrey^s
boast that non-intrinsic money ** 8«T-ed **
America, France, and Great Britain, 'vrbei^
bending under their unnatural loads oif enor-
OUGHT OIOSEY TO BR INTRINSIC OR SYMBOLICAL ?
343
moos espenditures. Bat we little fear that,
in these temporary money transactions, they
will recognise the symbolical theory of the
nuTWcy as the one which recorded financial
qperience tells them is foanded on truth
and the fitness of things.
We are now naturally led to the most con-
Scting point in our discussion — that of
•"Ksrcity of money." It is the main pivot
Pmod which rerolre our opponent's fallacies.
The term sudly wants definition. Sometimes
it is used for scarcity of bullion ; sometimes
it is applied to a rise in prices ; and sometimes
it is used to express some vague notion of
I Kmited circnlating medium. Money-sym-
bobts are never more fallacious than when
wodemnini: gold money, because its increase
w frnntity is not so proportionate with the
iacrease of commodities that no fluctuation
|>f prices can accrue. Their blunder consists
ia ooofbunding a nominal with a real value.
The real value between the media and the
Bticle of purchase is irrespective of the rela-
tire quantities of either. ** The abundance
rfmrrwicy in the markets," says 5Ir. Att-
*wd, "has the very same action in raibing
prices as the scarcity of property has ; ami
the scarcity of currency in the markets has
the very same action in lowering prices as
tbe ibandance of property has." Rut up«)n
thii point F. F. has already fully and clearly
olajwl. No pvfctem of symbolical money
^ tnr yet been mooted that could entirely
piniite the fluctuation of prices ; so that evils
Qcident thereto must ever be tolerated so
feff as the scarcity and overplus of com-
Qedities in proportion to the demand are
"ftrted otherwise than by the current value
rfmoofy.
Wt feel oar position too strong, as respects
t^lcMm to be drawn from the history of
^ disistmis results of a contraction of the
mnwcy in 1816, alluded to by " Irene,** to
*er into lengthened argument. The 6,00.5
Inkniptdes consequent on this collapse tell
M in the least against an intrinsic currency.
We advocate no reduction in the quantity of
tile circulating medium ; nor have we yet
Men cause to " sweep away the whole stock
of our paper cnrrency." But the principal
Vj^^nment of Iren^ is, that " money possess-
ng intriDtie Tmlue has a natural tendency to
ocite those disastrtnu commercial panics
vUch in previous years have brought this
COBntfj to the Teiy Terge of revolution."
This is strongly and boldly stated ; but let us
see how it is supported. It is because of the
fixity in the value of gold, and becau!«o in
prosperous times of " high prices and largo
profits," this fixity of price in gold is the
cause of " a drain of the metal from the
country." How? Because gold then *' be-
comes the cheapest commodity we have," and
is, therefore, exported by the foreign mer-
chant in exchange for his imported goods.
What is here meant by "cheapest commodity"
we are puzzled to say. " Irene" does not
mean that the foreign market price of gold
has risen above our standard price, for £ome
checked home influence seems implied. Mo6t
likely his meaning may be, that, amid a
general rifc in the prices of other commodi-
ties, it is most profitable to the foreigner to
take that pttrticular commodity whuiio price
has not proportionably risen. But what un-
known causes are they which make gold
monev and commodities flear aHke f Dear
mtmcy and cheap commodities, and rinevenit^
we can understand; but, aware of the fixity
of gold money value, dear money and dear
commodities, coupled with high profits, go
beyond our comprehension. Kven admitting
the "sole legal teniler" to be cheaj^er to
foreigners than nny other of our commoilities
— not because thcrt' is any difference in its
value in the two market.^, but because tho
other commodities are dearer in our market
than in the foreigner's — this inequality could
not be of long continuance. The equilibrium
of prices, through the action of a free com-
merce, would speedily be restored. The drain
of specie would, by limiting partially tho
circulating medium, lower the prices of com-
modities to those of other markets, without
necessarily lessening the profits. But, in
reality, " IreneV argument, even if tenable,
is of insignificant importance. His so-called
" fair transcript from the page of English his-
tory," loses all its force as an example by the
accurate explanation. The memorable panic
of 1825 was distinguished and maintaine«l
by tho want of a single commodity, — gold ;
and it is true that the missing gold was ex-
ported : but, primarily, the ptmic arose from
the great mania for s))eculation in foreign
loans, in costly joint-stock-company under-
takings ; also from an overplus of British
manufactures in foreign markets, and from the
failures of numerous private country bankers,
who so far transgressed the law of intrinsic
344
OUGHT MONET TO BE IKTRIKSIC OB 8TUBOUCAL?
cuirencj, aa to engross the whole circalatiog
medium of their districts, without possessing
sufficient capital to meet demands.* Thus
great, indeed, were the ruin and havoc
among incomes and fortunes; and not even
" Irene" could resist the temptation of ex-
posing a system under which such iinancial
tragedies occurred. But "Irene's" primary
argument having failed, so also does his
secondary one, that, under a representative
currency, foreigners would take our goods
instead of our gold, because, at the then
market price, he asserts, our gold would be
less advantageous to foreign merchants than
our goods. Certainly our opponent plays the
dangerous game of vaticination boldly and
positively.
Space, however, forbids prolonged debate.
We will not call our reader's attention to
Australia, or speculate on that apparently
endless theme. Be the results of the insane
scamper for gold as they may, the general
ai'gument on this question will scarcely be
affected. But of Australia we think, that,
considering the numbers finally destined to
people it, their poverty, their distance from
their old houses — the fact of other pursuits
being sacrificed to gold-digging, and healthy
comforts to life-shortening privations — the
importance of the country as a promiaing
field for colonization and even incipient
nationalization — ^there need be less apprehen*
sion for either extraordinary fluctuations in
prices, or any undue alteration of the present
standard value of gold at home.
We will now conclude. We have replied
according to the manner in which our op-
ponents have treated the question. Nothing
has been said by its advocates in favour of a
symbolical currency which can, we think,
justify its institution. C. £. R. would make
it an entirely inconvertible currency, repre*
sentative only of ^ a certain quantity and
description of labour at the time of the basis
being fixed." This " symbolical money" ho
would base, we see, limitcdly upon produc-
tion, but he has no better plan of expounding
it with production than through the imper-
fect medium of diseounting bills of exchange.
But if our readers would have a currencj
that represents and expands with labour-
one which is of univer&al value, which can
force a free-trade for itself, the fixitj of
which ensures its invariability, as a measare
of value, and which is not dependent upon
forced credit or arbitrary authority to ensure
circulation — then let them give their verdict
for intrinsic money. B. L. G.
SYMBOLICAL.— CONCLUDING ABTICLE.
It has been conceded by many buUionists,
that if paper could be limited in amount, it
would serve as a money equally as well as
gold; but their fear— a very natural one, a
fear which arises from a dread of disturbing
the relations of debtor and creditor, a fear
for which I have every respect — is, that
paper would be issued in excess. This is the
' weak side of paper money, and I would assent
to the most stringent regulations which could
prevent a baseless issue. But paper may
be so issued as to be more valuable than
gold, as M'Culloch confesses in his " Com-
mercial Dictionary," when he tells us that, in
the Bank Restriction Act, Mr. Fitt did not
issue paper enough, and his notes were worth
more than twenty shillings.
I think the illustration I am about to give
shows the real nature of money and its repre-
sentative character. When Captain Franklin
was approaching the Arctic Sea, he dismissed
• "Pop.Cydopasdia;" Article, UritoiR.
his Indian guides, and, to their great surprise,
offered them a piece of paper. Were thej^
after their fatigues and exertions, to be r«>-
muuerated by a piece of paper? Captain
Franklin explained to them, that this piece
of paper was an order on the government
stores at Montreal for a liberal remunenation
in the shape of muskets, gunpowder, and
blankets. The Indians, having &ith in Cap-
tain Franklin, took his paper order, which
became to them what a bill of lading is to a
banker, or a warehouse order to an advanciiu;
broker, or a penny postage stamp to a man
about to write a letter, or a ship note to vl
sailor. Now, if all other Indiiuis had the
same faith with whom they came in contact,
this paper would have become money. Thea
why should not England, a civilized countrv
have faith in her government, and allow it to
issue paper money ? I maintain tliat the first
function of a government is to findita people-
in an instrument of exchange. Taxation
implies such a power and such a functiou.
OUGHT MONEY TO BE INTRU(SIC OR BYMBOLICAL ?
345
I
If {^oreromeiit rcfoscs, as all governments
lefuic in the present duj, to take taxation in
luhl, bat demands money, then that goTcm-
rieot oogbt to make a money, and not coni-
pe! its people, as our goremment does, to go
to the ends of the earth to dig for a jellow
ore, irhich ten years since could not be found,
hi DOW may be found in such quantities as
\u dUtorb all social relations, upon a plea, and
afal« plpa, that when this nation contracted
a Ji-bt of £800,000,000, it contracted a debt
of 8,'X)0 tons of gold — more than exists on the
^ce of the globe — ^which the nation must pay
doiro, or else an annual interest of 300 tons.
Tije consequences of such an absurd money
ve Terr disastrous. A man has an income
of £10^000 a year; he lives on, say, £1,000
i ;rtf, and has the difference, £9,000, to
^pOK of. What is he to do? If he wishes
to be qnite safe, he must do as the orientals
^; must hooixl and bury it. But let
Iiio take it to a bank, in the foolish belief
^ the bank puts it by safe in boxes for
bin to hare whenever ho may choose to call.
Fw&few yean ho goes on imagining that
^ bank has in its coffers some £30,000 in
^old. But a cloud gathers in the political
Wizio ; the ccHumerdol world becomes dis-
|ni!tfal, the bank puts the screw on — that
1^ raises discounts; that is, cheapens com-
iQ<4ities; tliat is, enhances money. A panic
^iu; it spreads ; our friend runs to the
mk^^ his deposit, but finds his fellow-
^priitors have been before him ; the bonk
^ payment, and his fancied wealth, or
^'^ gold. Is — ^nowhere ! And this happens
^^ four years. His savings have accu-
i^ted, bat the gold which ought to in-
CTtttt with them, or represent them, docs
^ iMRase. With paper money he might
f^cosudate with safety, for, as his savings
^'Kued, paper money would increase, and
PuicifOr runs for gold, would be impossible,
** gokl woaM not be a money, and if people
nn tat paper, they would get it, provided it
*>• owing to them.
I Gookl write a thick volume to illustrate
&e iEsanity of our present system ; but if I
*o asked for a better, my answer is, I am
ft* prepared to give a better; but let the
pi&o take this question up, and attend to
it belbfe aaj other, for this emigration to
^Avtialia indicates what I am attemptmg to
show, viz^ that what the country is thirsting
Ar is, man moiiej.
What is wealth? Is it not raw material
moulded and fashioned by labour? liaw
material being, then, inexhaustible; labour
more efficient, with the assistance of ma-
cliincry, than ever was known ; and man*s
desires being boundless — for I suppose every
man wishes for more various food, for a moro
commodious house, for more elegant dress,
and for better furniture; for more books,
pictures, and flowers — what is it that ties this
great industrious nation of England to such
mean accommodations, but wont of money?
Then, I say, give government power to make
money, and what would a little extrava-
gance signify? What would the nation care
if a few millions more a year were spent,
seeing that it would give employment?
I could illustrate the fact tliat the want
of money is the great obstacle to advance;
but, as one instance, take the education
of the people. Why arc not the people
educated? Because of the cost. Well, sup-
pose my plan onniliilates cost, is it not worth
attending to ? Issue education paper money ;
build schools ; pay schoolmasters ; supply
apparatus; let such money circulate among
the people, and let the government recognise
it as legal tender for the education rate,
when it might be cancelled. "lie that
hath ears to hear, let him hear." To the
man who is in an affirmative state this is
enough, but to tho man who worships gold,
who cannot shake off the prejudices of youth,
no words con have effect, no argument satisfy.
Do you want the people educated? Are
there men enough to build your schools? Is
there enough of slate, brick, clay, and lime?
Are there enough of men competent to bo
schoolma^iters? Is there any short supply
of books, maps, and chemical apparatus or
geological specimens — of Bibles, Testaments,
and prayer books — of slates and pens? If
not, for heaven's sake go to work, and don't
let money stop you : make your money.
Money is the servant of man — man should
not be the slave of money. I will close by
giving some queries by Bishop Berkeley,
which will have more weight with your readers
than anything I may say.
" Whether the four elements, and man's la-
bour therein, be not the true source of wealth ?
*' Whether money be not only so far useful
as it stirreth up industiy, enabling men mu-
tually to participate in the fruits of each
other's labour?
346
OUGHT MOWET TO BE WTRnrSIC OR 8T3fB0LlCAL ?
"Whether money is to be considered as
haying an intrinsic ralne, or as being a com-
modity, a standard, or a pledge, as is variously
suggested by writers ? And whether the true
idea of money, as such, be not altogether that
of a ticket or counter?
" Whether the term litre, pound sterling,
crown, &c., are not to be considered as expo-
nents or denominations of such proportion?
And whether gold, silver, or paper, are not
tickets or counters for reckoning, recording,
and transferring thereof ?
** Whether the denominations being retain-
ed, although the bullion were gone, things
might not nevertheless be rated, bought and
sold, industry promoted, and a circulation of
commerce maintained?
** What makes a wealthy people ? Whether
mines of gold and silver are capable of doing
this? And whether the negroes, amidst the
gold sands of Africa, are not poor and desti-
tute?
'* Whether there be any virtue in gold or
stiver other than as they set people to work,
or create industry?
"Whether power to command the industry
of others be not real wealth? And whether
money be not, in truth, tickets or tokens for
conveying or recording such power, and
whether it be of great consequence what ma-
terials the tickets are made of?
" Whether to promote, transfer, and secure
this commerce, and this property in human
labour, or, in other words, this power, be not
the sole means of enriching a people ; and how
far this may be done independently of gold
and silver?
" Whether a fertile land, and the industry
of its inhabitants, would not prove inex-
haustible funds of real wealth, be the counters
for conveying and recording thereof what you
will — paper, gold, or silver?
" Whether the opinion of men, and their
industry corisequent thereon, be not the true
wealth of Holland, and not the silver sup-
posed to be deposited in the bank of Amster-
dam?
" Whether, in order to understand the true
nature of wealth and commerce, it would not
be right to consider a ship^s crew cast upon
a desert island, and by degrees forming them-
selves to business and civil life, while industry
begot credit, and credit moved to industry?
"Whether such men would not all set
themselves to work? Whether they would
not subsist by the mutual participation of
each other's industry? Whether when ooe
man had in this way procured more than he
could consume, he would not exchange his
superfluities to supply his wants? Whether
this must not produce credit? Whether, to
facilitate these conveyances, to record and
circulate this credit, they would not soon
agree on certain tallies, tokens, tickets, or
counters?
" Whether it be not agreed that paper hstb,
in many respects, the advantage above coin,
as being of more despatch in payments, more
easily transferred, preserved, and recovered
when lost?
" Whether the sure way to supply people
with tools and materials, and to set them to
work, be not a free circulation of money,
whether silver or paper?
" Whether the great evils attending paper
money, in the British plantations of America,
have not sprung from overrating their lands,
and issuing paper without discretion, and
from the legislators breaking their own rules
in their own favour, thus sacrificing the
public to their private advantage? AnJ
whether a little sense and honesty might not
easily prevent all such inconveniences?
"Whether there are not to be seen in
America, faur towns, wherein the people are
well lodged, fed, and clothed, without a beggar
in their streets, although there be not one
grain of gold or silver current among
them?
" Whether tTie use and nature of mooe.T.
which all men so eagerly pursue, be yet
sufficiently understood or considered by all?
" Whether a discovery of the richest goW
mine that ever was in the heart of this iring-
dom would be a real advantage to us?
" Whether, therefore, a national bank won!i
not be more beneficial than even a mine o!
gold?
" Whether counters be not referred to other
things, which, so long as they keep pace aftl
proportion with the counters, it must b^
owned the counters are useful; but whether
beyond that, to covet or yalua counters be
not direct folly?
" Whether we are suflRdently sensible «
the peculiar security there is in having a
bank, that consists of land and paper, one «
which cannot be exported, and the other is
in no danger of being exported?
" Whether money could ever be wanting to
U THE COSIFESSIO^rAL IN HARMOlfT WITH UTTELLECTUAL FREEDOM ? 349"
the demands <tf indostrf , if we had a national
bank?
" Whether paper doth not, by its stamp and
sigutiuv, acquire a local value, and b^me
as precions and scarce as gold? And whether
it be not mach fitter to circnlate large sams^
and therefore preferable to gold?"
James Harvet.
hm\ (Etflnnnnf.
IS THE CONFESSIONAL IN HARMONY WITH INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL
FREEDOM OR SOCIAL WELL-BEING ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— IL
It is our duty to defer the reception of adoc-
trJM until we are fully informed respecting
its nrioos relations; hence our obligation
tbonmghly to examine those relations, and
to refer them to some natnral or supernatural
ctiodard, before we arrive at conclusion?,
lie exerdse of this discriminatory power is
tlic native and inalienable right of every
hman being, having fnJl scope in regard to
sU human enonciations, and extending even
to (fivine commnnications. Tlie great Go-
Tcnor of the nniverse sanctions and invites
the frw, nnfettered exercise of human judg-
ment in relation to himself, his dealings, and
lu teachings. He speaks thus : — '* Come,
WW, and let ns reason together." " The
I^hath a controversy with his people, and
he Till plead with Israel." " Oh, men of
Jodah! judge, I pray you, betwixt me and
ny vineyarf." And, through Paul, the
*onl is thus submitted to man*8 judgment :
"I speak as nnto wise men; judge yo what
I ny." Again, in regard to the treatment
of ^ which christian teachers mav cnnn-
wrt*, we are taught not only to receive the
v^ Shidly, but to bring it to the issue of a
^noparison with the wwrd of (5od ; for we are
(ojooed to go ** to' the law and to the tes-
woy: if they speak not according to this
vtird, it it because there is no light in them.*'
Ari agam: — " Believe not every spirit; but
t>y the spirits, whether they be of God, for
tnere be many false prophets.'* Thus the
Wd of God is qaite clear with reference to
tbe province of bnnuin judgment, a province
vUeh no human agency can destroy, bo it
inphet, priest, cr church.
Matt omiDoiui to the pretensions and ten-
doides of tlw Church of Rome is that word
hi hi ntend appRcaUllty, which speaks of
those' who make the scriptures of none effect
by their vain traditions. Rome receives
that word as authentic and authoritative;
but it has also traditions, and from these it
gathers its many errors, and amongst other»
its theory of the insufficiency of the scrip-
tures. The Church of Rome invalidates the
authority of scripture, in that it denies man
those rights as a reasonable and moral being
which the Bible clearly asj^igns to him. This
thing of humanity usurps the authority of
the Ahnighty,- and violates the legitimate
claims of man. This priestly power sets
forth all imaginable advantages as arising
from connexion with its communion, and
demands, as the condition of such connexion,
a pledge of absolute unconditional submis-
sion. This church — in the most charitable
sense ecclcsia&tically-human in its origin, its
doctrinal and constitutional growth, deter-
mined by circumstances of worldly policy
and after the manner of secular institutions
— this church teaches in relation to its
position that man, in his infirmities, is
altogether dependent upon it, and that its
claims arc such that to doubt or dissent is
to sin. The Church of Rome forecloses all
examination of its doctrines by denying the
legitimacy of priv.ite judgnient; and it an-
ticipates all further appeal to other authority
by maintaining the dogma of its own infalli-
bility.
The standard of eligibility to the priest-
hood furnishes no intervention between the
evils of the system and the interests of
humanity. That standard recognises no
difference between the man carnal and the
man renewed in the divine image. Men
who, under some phase or other, are per-
sonally ill affected towards the mental and
848
IS THE CONWJSaaiOSAJ^ IN HARUONT WITH ISTELLECTUAL
monl freedom of mankind at large, have full
scope and ample powers in such connexion,
and even those natjirally or bj grace indis-
posed to act detrimental!/ to others, are, in
this church, converted into active parts of a
despotic agency, and took of a thonght-
qnelling, sonl-enalaving system; their indi-
vidual responsibility merges into that of the
chnrch.
To such a system — such a priesthood — ^wc
have to add the confessional. Confession, as
required by the Komish Church, is the
thorough laying bare of a man's inner life to
the church's ken, in such manner as that all
diversities from a disposition well affected
towards itself shall be known and dealt with.
All that in the system is hostile to the
legitimate exercise of the individual mind —
all the several, and may be numerous, personal
predilections in tlie priesthood unfavourable
to such exercise, and the whole priesthood as
unfavourably affected by the system — all
these hostilities are brought to bear inti-
jnately and directly upon the springs of
principle and upon the sources of mental
action. Through the confessional the priest
gains knowledge of the impi^lses yet latent
in the soul, and of cnide feelings there, in
such stages of their formation as that they
are scarcely obvious to the man himself.
The confessional offers itself to the priesthood
as a means of obtaining full possession of a
man 8 soul — of taking the rulership out of
the hands of his reason — ^and the moral
Jurisdiction away from his conscience.
It seems to us impossible for persons
educated in Romanism, and practising con-
fession as the church prescribes, to form a
truly rational and impartial judgment upon
ecclesiastical and spiritual matters. The
atipulated unreservedness of confession, the
aearching power vested in the priest, and
the habit of unreasoning obedience to all his
counsel WTought in them from infancy,
places the determination of their wills at
the option of the priest, and makes him, if
he wills, the absolute fashioner of tlieir
mental development.
The more intimately confession is identi-
fied with the life, the earlier will the man's
inner transgressions against the church be
known to its emissaries ; and thus the
church's influence will be employed, ere
reason has collected its energies, or the con-
.Bcieace has clearly outspoken.
In the classification of matters for confes-
sion, those which relate chiefly to the system
and the class are placed highest, and ia the
same category as the most aggravated sins
against the supreme Lawgiver. Priestcrsft
will also ever be more solicitous about
offences against itself than transgressions
against G^.
The patriot Bomanist detecting the latent
working of aggressive tendencies in his
church, or observant of more open mani-
festations, must, in proportion to tiie depth
of his patriotism, feel troubled and sus-
picious ; but these feelings are the germs of
rebellion sgainst the church, and consUtute
themselves serious sins. They must be
confessed to the priest; and if he cannot
make an enthralled conscience or a coward
heart stifle the germinating crudities of the
inner life, priestcraft will institute extra-
neous interferences. If Galileo were perse-
cuted, would his discoveries be patronized?
If Garibaldi were hunted, would his oploious
be allowed to pass? If Guiccardini were
imprisoned, would the study of the scripture}
be recommended? If Luther were excom-
municated, would church reform be petted
in the Vatican, or would Lutheran doctrines
be left unmolested? A suspicion that Galileo
was right, according to Romanism would be a
sin ; a fellow feeling with Garibaldi, touchin:;
ecclesiastical reform or nati<mal freedom,
would be a sin; a doubt in relation to the
purity, policy, or constitution of the church
in Luther's day would have been a sin; and
a longing after the scriptures would now hi
a sin. And tlicse all are matters for the
confessional. Thus the confesbional euflbles
the church to nip in the germ the results of
the soul's gathering consciousness, and finally
to destroy that consciousness, and leave the
soul to inanity and torpor. The confessional
is, therefore, plainly at issue with mental
and moral freedom, not only because it is in
connexion with a system essentially and
! universally inimical to that freedom, but i:
I would necessarily be so in connexitni ^ ith
any system which threw round its agents
, peculiarities to them amongst men aa a
separate and privileged class.
The second and distinctire aspect of tl •?
question before us involves the social in-
fluences of the confessional. The classes ^i
interests proi)06ed for our consideration are
so mutually identical as to excuse tliclr
AUD VORAIi FIIEEn>OV OR SOCIAL WKLL-BEDfO?
349
jaxtaposhMm in the question; but we are
necessitated to eonsider this last abniptlj
and briefly. Everything inimical to man as
t thinking and moral bdng must necessarily
be (Usaatroos to his social position. An
n&lavful interference with his mental powers
most tend to retard the progress of sodet j.
Sach interference also with the moral man
KBst tend firam the evangelical to the idola-
tro39 or the atheistic. Besides these things,
tlK confessional is, unhappily, fruitful of
ilhmratlon of more direct antagonism to
social welfare. It has a natural and neces-
tuj tendency to convert domestic and social
iatatoarse into a system of mutual espion-
age. It engenders individual reserve, gcne«
ntes distrust, and originates treachery.
Where is the proof of a naturalized and
^eaeral treachery most to be found, but in
ntiotnes where the confessional is most up-
kld?
The confessional tends to the aggrava-
ntien of crime in general. The premedita-
^ci of crime, or its commission, is naturally
od imiversally attended by a fear of certain
i^icfinite consequences: this, in the most
angt eooxmunities, must, in some measure,
actbeoeficially; but men of Belial, assured
^ the fiither confessor that, at the price of
a ihow of compunction — of ii full and yet
safe tisclosnre of their guilt — of the per-
faraaoce of certain frivolous or temporarily
paifi^l acts, or of the disgorgement of a
pc!^QD of their spoil, they are fully and
Mr foigiven by Him to whom all things
an naked and open, and are, therefore, si^e
&asa the ponishment due to their sins — the
natural, universal barrier to crime is broken
down. This evil is so manifest, and the
inference so obvious, in reference to the action-
of the confessional upon society, that we
make no further comment.
The confessional tends to the aggravatiott-
of profligacy in particular. Think of the-
priesthood, with hs various forms of re-
actionary discipline — the celibate mors
especially; it would seem as if the wbole
nature of the man were studiously reined in-
in order for a more impetuous spring. Satan
must certainly have suggested to the Romisb
priesthood the most unnatural forms of reli-
giousness, as affording the readiest leaps int<r
the diabolical, fearfully preparing them for
the rebound from unnatural restraint to its
opposite licentiousness. Think of the priests
individually, and in the solitude and secrecy
of the confessional, being the unseemly and
unnatural repositaries of woman's secret
sins, eliciting, in accordance with their in-
structions, that which nature, and feminine
nature especially, would solicitously conceal.
A //ood man here would stand as on slippery
ground ; a bad man must find this the gate
of hell — a very Sodom. What can possibly
come of the confessional in this aspect, but a
lamentable deterioration of moral sentiment,
and a most fearful corruption of the virtuous
element in our social fabric. The confes-
sional mnst dim the fascination and destroy
the life of domesticity, and degrade the
moral position of woman. The confessional
is at intentional issue with intellectual and
moral freedom, and is at direct and deadly
issue with social well-being. W. G.
AFPIRM-ATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
Is taUng up our pen to support the
?«tion of ^ Confessarius," we desire to view
this (pestion not as affecting the dogma of
% c«rtam creed ; and, laying aside all religious
^iasauions, we will look at it simply by
^ n^ht of reason. The higher ground of
'ts dhrloe origin or Its scriptural authority
^ ^nUl leave, and confine our attention to
its harmony with the moral nature of man.
'The oonfeaaoDal is an institution coinciding
with a law of onr nature, and any organizo-
^'jQ calculated to carry out those laws, and
t" preserve oar nunral nature from corrupting
laf^VQces, must be regarded as a positive
eood.
Urst let us look at the prbciple of con«
fession, before we look at it as developed
into a system in the form of the confessional.
" Confess your sins one to another," says the
inspired writer. The individual who has
committed an ill deed, or thought an ill
thought, has degraded himself in his own,
eyes ; he is deprived of so much purity ; and,
like a rust spot, the sin will sink and canker
in his soul, tmless brought out and cleansed
by confessicm.
The man who has confessed even to his
vile accomplices feels comparative ease and
freedom from the load of guilt which would
sink him to perdition — is lightened. A
aso
IS THE COVFCSSIOKAXi IN UABXONY WITH IMTBIXECTUAL FRRKDOM?
candid coofesnoo allows a person a starting
point for a new coarse of moral rectitade; he
is ^'a new creature^" he has done with the
past, and the future may be full of hope.
Erery creature must feel the necessity of
•occasional confession for the sake of his in-
dividual happiness; it is an outlet from which
flows the generated corruptions of his nature.
The man with the dark brow, shadowed by
the manthng gloom of malignity, does not i
confess his crimes ; no, he hides them in his '
heart, until he is saturated with his own
Tilhuny.
Again, watch the man upon his dying bed
-who has committed crimes and buried them
within his own bosom: they torment him
more than his physical sufferings; he dis-
<slcees them for present relief, as much as for
pardon from the avenging Providence.
Thus we see that confession is a principle
^ our moral nature, and, as such, it becomes
our duty not to repress, but to develop it.
We now come to inquire which is the best
«ystem for promoting the efficacy of confes-
Bion. Some would say, let your friends and
relatives be your confessors. There are many
•objections to this. Jealousy, rivalry, and
personal ambition mix up largely in the
common affairs and ordinary relationships of
life. Indiscriminate confession to surrounding
friends would throw the apple of discord into
aociety ; bonds would be broken, ties severed,
and domestic anarchy would follow.
Bat the publicly-established confessional
4iffords the desideratum. When we view the
confessional as an institution of society ; when
ire see its functionaries absorbed in tlie duties
of their holy calling, elevated above the sordid
&nd mercenary world, living in an atmosphere
where the conflicting passions of sensuality
Bre unknown, we are inclined to think that
BO institution could be more calculated to
advance the moral welfare of the human
family. For this reason the party who
receives the confessions must possess some
■nperior claims as a teacher and practiser o£
religion, although he may not be able to
grant absolution. The forgiveness attends
the act of confiession and the feeling of re-
pentance. The priest is the hearer; and,
while the heart is opened to him and its
secret thoughts exposed, he can administer
the balm of consolatbn, mingled with gentle
censure, and apply the principles and precepts
«f religion for its future guidance. Man is |
ever prone to deviate from the paths of tnith ;
lus inner light is not sufficient to keep him
from straying into the mases of error, or we
might dispense with every species of religioug
instruction; but, once grant the necessity of
theological teaching, and what line can be
drawn to exclude the confessional from
assisting in the instmction of the people?
The confessional does its work silently, but
powerfully: it adapts itself to individual
cases. Private appeals have been as effec-
tual in the conversion of the world as tlie
public practice of preaching. The confes-
sional is as much in hannony with intellec-
tual and moral freedom as any town mis-
sionary society. We do not readily imsgiue
that the wretches which this society reacutt
from the pit of ignorance and vice lose sny
portion of their liberty \^ being brought
into the sun-lit moral atmosphere of spiri-
tual knowledge. Ko one would dream of
making such a charge; but the ooofcssional
is said to be incompatible with freedom for
performing the very same office.
The confessional is perfectly in hannony
with intellectual and moral freedom; aoJ,
further, its tendency is to preserve both.
As a great preventative of crime, it is tho
necessary ally to freedom. Freedom becomes
aggression when it gives people a Uoeoce to
act contrary to the well-being of society : sod
when a person has vioh&ted the laws of free-
dom, either by act or thought, he may go to
the confessional, humiliate himself, seek for
pardon, cleanse his conscience of guilt, sod
re-establish purity of heart The ills which
society receives from its members are not
always sufficiently tangible to come within
reach of the civil law ; these are brought to
light and condemned at the confessional : the
offender is not stamped as an outlaw soJ
then let loose an enemy to society, but he is
received again to her bosom; he is forgiTeo,
becomes a better man, and goea on his war
rejoicing.
Let us now, in conclusion, snm up the
claims of the confessional: —
Firstly. The confessional does not inter-
fere with individual freedom.
Secondly. It possesses no judicial function,
and, therefore, is incapable of tampering wiUi
public liberty.
Thirdly. The confessional atands like a
mighty champion of morality, checking thoM
under-currcnts of licentiousness and sedition,
BUBOPBAK PHILOaOPHT. 851
aad thus tends to ptesanre the peace of the
Torld.
Foaitblf. The ooofeuion»I is a sort of
qoanntioe for the mind, bj which it ia
ponfied from pestiferoiui contact with the
wffUaf no.
FifUiIj. We mar regard the confessional
ssa 8<^ of facoltj of moral physicians. The
bodiljr adrisers hare studied the researches
«f adeoce and the laws of nature; w« trust
to tbdr f^uidance. The spiritual advisers
of either would be futile, and it is aa neces-
saiy a part of one system as the other. You
cannot apply the remedy to an eril without
first knowing it. And this is what the con-
fessional facilitates in order to effect the
remoTal of the weeds of vice from society,
and to direct men's minds from the gross
and sensual world to pure and holy objects,
to infuse in them the spirit of love and
devotioo, to pilot them through the world
(with its dangerous quicksands and rocks)
iure studied the nature of the soul, and | to the haven where " the wicked cease from
kcov bow to apply the truth to heal her troubling, and where the weary are at rest.*'
oitt&ses: but without confession the efforts | J. B.
€|! Inrhths' Itrtinn.
EDBOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.
BT THE AUTHOR OF ^'tHE ABT OF REASONI5G.*'
FROLOGOMEXA — ( Concluded.)
k composing a History of Human Thought, it is of great importance to notice and
v^iie the direct filiation of Ideas. Truth is not self-generative, but produced. To
tnce the genealogy of thought — ^tbe antecedents and subsequents of each idea — is one of
tJc ;reat duties of a historian of Philosophy. The parentage may not, at first sight, be
^ridos; but the historian's researches will enable him to present a cumuhtioH of evidence
^iJdli leads him to believe in the mutual connexion of thought with thought. Hence it
^'i3» that, in presenting an outline of the course to be pursued in the present series of
pectfetiaQS, we shall be compelled to introduce, t» Umine^ a sketch of that Philosophy
"iicb took its rise in those orimt regions where man most earlUy put forth the blossomry
{f thffnght.
The Introduction will treat of a period which recedes into the far distance of Antiquity,
•3d vkaefa is but faintly discernible through the long vista of five thousand years. Our
P^^rioiage will be in " The Lands of the East ''—Persia, Egypt, India, Chaldea, China,
Pdeetine. There Philosophy, like the waters of the Kile, fiows from sources, some of
rbieh are yet nndiscovered, and merges into the vast ocean of human intelligence.
To this period belongs the Evaagel-Pbilosophy contained in the works of the God-
liaght Mcwes in the polity and religion of " The Children of Israer— in tlie sayings of
^ladflBk'e most lichly-endowed son, Solomon — ^in the mildly-persuasive though stemly-
^*^ft9ntig words of Isaiah — ^in the plaintive wailings of the woe-worn Jeremiah — the
^^tander-Uirenteningv of Ezekiel — and those other "voices of the Lord," the minor
fwjAett.
In the Celestisl Empire Confucius and Meugius will appear to tis, and give forth the
£^41 thoughts whkh came to them of Duty, Obedience, Honesty, Love, and Worship.
352 EUROPEAN rinLOSOPHT.
Thej will arise and teach ns the valae of forms, and the necessity of rituals, to express
" the Ideas of the Reason/'
A glimpse of the Chaldaic llfe-oracles, derived from the study of " the stars," 'whicli
they made not only "the poetry," but also the philosophy, " of Heaven."
Then we shall change oar point of vision, and the thonght>science of Hindnstan will
meet our view. Here we have Deity symbolically represented as Brahm — pure Intelli-
gence, or Om — glorific Light; and the grand desire of human souls should be towards
Eeswar — the divine light-beams which Om evolves and circulates throughout the universe
for the nourishment of the soul.
Mysterious Egypt — dawn- world of great thoughts embodied in great works — will invite
ns.to inspect the inscriptions on her monuments, statues, temples, pyramids, and tombs —
now almost outworn by the constant tread of ever> travelling Time — to see if we can there
learn aught of her solution of the great queries relating to human destiny.
The Persian will then present his Zendavesta — a vast mythic symbolizatiou of the
Omnipresent and the Holy. He will tell us of Ormuzd — Light, Creation, and Unity — tlie
fountain of Good, as well as of that fell opponent-power, Ahriman — Darkness, Destruction,
and Disunion.
In all the speculations of this era one great fact wiU arise, viz., the identicalization of
Philosophy and Religion. The human soul, stirred by " the problems of the Reason,**
constructs for itself, or accepts as an answer, a Religion. A class is then set aside to
perform those sacrificial and propitiatory rites which such a Religion necessitates. Thus
Philosophy becomes venerable in the eyes of the people, too sacred for vulgarians. The
degeneracy of learning in all but one exclusive caste, and the gradual attainment of oo
hereditary monopoly of the treasure-stores of wisdom by the priest-rulers, are. the more
prominent results of this coalition or identicalization.
This view of pre-European Philosophy will lead to the proper topic of this series of
papers, which shall be considered in three great divisions, viz. ;-—
I. Greek Philosophy. — 1st. Pi-e-Socratic; 2nd. Socratic; 3rd. Post-Socratic.
II. Medieval Philosophy. — 1st. Subordination of Philosophy to Theology; 2nd. Alliance
of Philosophy and Theology; Srd. Differentiation and Divorce of Philosophy and Tbeolo^.
III. Modem Philosophy. — 1st Sensationalism; 2nd« Idealism; 3rd. Soeptictam ; 4ib.
Mysticism; 5th. Electicism.
To indicate the general tendency of such a series of papers is exceedingly difficult, because —
1st. So wide a range of thought is not easily held at one glance before the mind ; 2nd.
The necessary concentration of remark is likely to produce that sort of ambigxuty which
results from too great brevity; drd. The great landmarks only can be noticed, and hence
an apparent disconnectedness of thought results ; 4th. We must presume a certain degree ot
knowledge in the reader which he may not possess; which, if he has, he wants not to receive
from us, and if he has not, cannot acquire, so that either way we risk becoming tediotis
and tiresome; 5th. An aptitude of filling up the outline-thoughts presented must be pre-
supposed; and, 6th. The unsatisfactoriness of a mere '^bird's-eye view" of the landscape
of human thought may deter the reader from pursuing his inquiries further. Still, wbes
we consider how much we shall gain by the establishment of confidence between oonelves
and our readers, we are inclined to set these difficulties at nought and hazard the atteai|.t.
ximonBAir prilosopht. 353
Sboald wt £ul| perhaps the reader will remember that the magnitude of the topic presented
almost innnnoontable obstacles to the accomplishment of onr design — it is not easy to
vnte a copjr of the " Diad" which maj lie in a walnnt-sbell; while at the same time he
nay reflect that there may be deficiencies in the reader as well as in the author.
L Greek Philosophy. — This division introduces us to a land where thought was free as
the vavcs which encircle its glory-haloed shores — the land of the enfranchisement of
sind—^ wisdom-worship— where appeared those thought-kings whose shades still ''rule
m spirits from their urns." Of the earlier period of philosophic thought we have but
little record. At first ideas would arise spontaneously in the mind unsystematic and unscien-
^c^ trained ; like bright flashes of intuition, they would course along " the hemisphere of
^^ht " beaatifnl and interesting from thrir norelty and sublimity. Hence Philosophy
nd Poetry became wedded friends, and the earlier sages were not only philosophers, but
P^ Ever it is thus, the grand mysterious sublimities of mind educe poetic skill, and
t!ie davn-thoughts of the wise are embdlished by the gifts of the Muses. Through
tb itmge though beautiful cloud-haze of myth which shadows man*s earlier history,
t^ b enough seen to convince us of the fact that the curiosity of the human mind was
cvIt awakened to cosmogonic and metaphysic speculations. Among the earliest thinkers
^^f^^ieaa — ^perhaps a mere myth representative of the sacerdotal race who thus early ruled
-3 (sKeee — arose, and by his religious hymns and poems commenced that deep thinking
to God, creation, destiny, &c., for which Greece has been so famed. Mussus followed,
^ led the thoughts of men to the dwelling-place of the dead. Homer and Hesiod
ladiTidualized and named the various sub-forces of nature as minor gods ; and other lyric
tt'd gnomie poets, by their hymns, odes, &c., contributed, if not to the elaboration of a
pb^Vaophy, at least to a mythology in which the seeds of much philosophic thought lay
^balnied.
Xest came a contest of minds, a revolt ss^ainst blind faith, an attempt to elaborate
* pnetical wisdom — a wisdom which should guide in legislation, life, and wariare.
SKerdoey, opposed by sternly practical minds, who saw no hope for man so long as he was
* W»rf foDower of creeds and performer of ceremonies, if these were uninformed with
^^r nteanings bearing on man s moral wants, fell ; and the Heptad — the seven wise men
^- Ortece — appeared, and gave utterance to their lore. Political prudence, acute obaer-
^ition, nnich knowledge of the human heart, a keen sense of freedom, seem to have been
^^ indominating qualities of their minds ; and the pearl-strings of sayings, marked
^ -'aj^city, conciseness, and that epigrammatic terseness which impresses the mind at
^^e, vhich they left, though delivered without any signs of philosophical elaboration, are
tbe 7«ntts of mnch subsequent speculative thought.
Coattenipui aueously the Ionic and Italic schools of Philosophy appear on the historic
**»'^OT,with Thales and Pythagoras respectively occupying the foreground. Subsequently
*'^- Klcatics, with Xenophanes of Colophon, Parmenidcs, and Zeno — the originator of " The
'V.tce of Reasoning** — as the chief teacher, present themselves. The Cosmogonists —
^ose to whom the universe seems a mystery, and their own being "the mystery of
^'T^terics,** and whose inquiries, therefore, relate to the Origin of the Universe and the
'^1 of Man, the chiefs of whose school are Heraclitus, Democritns, Empedocles, and
•^'^•gono— call for our attention.
2x
854 BUROPEAN PHILOSOPHT.
Then there arises a new sect, who deny that knowledge U attainable by htunanity, tb
Sophists, men who professed to teaeh the true method of thought, speech, and action-
men who by their verbiage, by cloudiness of phrase, sought to conceal their ignorance an
ape wisdom — ^men who by word-jugglexy contrived to maintain the semblance of knov
lodge.
But who is that man of cnrions gait who walks about the fomm? From his hearl
laogh one would suppose him a humourist. His Battened snnb-no^e, his thick, protrudii;
lips, his projecting eyeballs, his short, sqush figure, his somewhat unwieldy portliness
person, and his general awkwardness, combined with the evident shabbiness of his drea
point him out as one who, in the ordinary coarse of things, can only be the sport of tho
gay ^ wise men"* who surround him. But, no! See! he is listened to with deference si
respect, and ever and anon a loud laugh seems as if it hailed with pleasure the discoo
fiture of some one or more of those professors of wisdom, who are seemingly obliged
confess themselves baffled or mistaken by that poor, unfashionable, inelegant persona^
whose parents, we understand, occupy the humbler walks of life. That is Socrates—
name which can only be forgotten when the stars sickle and die. We shall introduce y(
to him at a future time.
The several Socratic schools are now originated — the Mogaric, with Euclid for its bei
— the Cyrenaic, with Aristippus as its chief teacher — the Cynic, with Anttsthenes si
Diogenes as its chief representatives.
Afterwards appeared the broad-browed, meditative Plato ^perhaps the grestest, tl
most widely-discursive genius of ancient times. High-souled and gifted, brilliaot si
wise, his works are a mine of wisdom, richer and more precious far than the gold tressor
which Australia or California conceals in its bosom — the riches of a spirit revealing i
struggles in that great truth-search in which all ^oud men in all ages have delighted i
engage. To him succeeds the mighty Stagyrite — that cool, clear, formal, acute, at
daring thinker — that giant amidst a race of giants. Eager, impetuoua, deep-thoo^bti
and truth-loring — extensively learned, laboriously studious, enthusiastically enamoureii
speculation; he has become one of the mightiest names which the glorious land of Grw
can boast VVc hesitate not to say that to him we are indebted, indirectly, for many of tl
blessings of the Bcformation. How, we shall show anon.
Stoicism took its rise from Zeno of Citium ; then Epicurus of Samos produced his mad
misunderstood doctrine. Afterwards Philosophy withdrew from Greece, and erected b
chief seats in Alexandria and Borne. Why? Macedonian ambition, aided by the gcofil
declension in morality, had snatched at Greek liberty and gained it ; and with the \<*5i
liberty, Arts, Science, Civilization, Intellectuality, Philosophy, fled "the dcsecrat
shores." Rome, it is true, had a few on whom the mantle of the Greek mastcn had lallc
and Alexandria was busy with thought-traffickers.
Christianity — "the day-spring from on high" — descends, and the destinies of t
earth are changed.
Gnosticism and Greco-Christian speculations now occupy many minds. The Theologicin
Philosophy of the Fathers of tlie Church becomes considerably dominant But an <i
day dawned. Borne, sated with conquest, swollen with pride, enslaved ly laxtr
infatuated by success, became a mass of, almost unleavened, moral putrefiiction* V$**'
EUR0PEA5 PHIL08OPHT. S55
*>su^ger sabofdinate to Reason; aud while she held the reios of the whole world, she
paitted her own appetites to rua riot, unswajed and uochecked. The foe approached.
PniTfiis tmnenred the arm of Borne. Besijstaoce waa Tain. The crown wait snatched
L-9B Uk laturelled brows of the world's mighty mistrees. Gloom and darkness settled
^ tb< intellectnal horizon of Europe.
IL MediaeTsl Philosophy. — A scene of dismal blanknesSi scantily illamined by the
'>ji3ac« d goiios, is all that Hi:»tory can here present us. Corruption bsd entered the
'^^itFcfa. The world and its honours became the possession of the reputed successors of
^ viio said, " My kingdom is not of this world." A pseudo-infallible church having
^^ the reiog of power as they were stricken from the nerrelesa arm of Rome,
^s^aiaated her edicts against the culture of the Intellect. Religion, by her interpreted,
*» to be man's '* all in all." Boethins, Averroes, Alcuinus, Scotus Erigena, &c., belong to
'^ era. The parpose of the Church, however, could not be accomplished. The mind
^^^^^ rest in onspeculative contentment and inactive torpidity — it must reason. Then
^ stfove to combine the philosojihic doctrines of the ancient world with the infallible
^rifies which she promulged. But she defeated her own end, and prevented the pos-
^vilitT of having an hereditary monopoly of all knowledge within her own pale, by the law
rf'dmcal celibacy. Then was the reign of Scholasticism consummated. Disputatious
•%%, mistaken subtlety, ingenious quibbling, inane debate, word-jugglery — anything, in
^1 vas hailed with ^^ benedkite"* which could occupy the mind on any other topic except
^s iorestigation of the credentials of that spiritual tyranny which sat on the throne of
tk vQclA, bore the tiara of a duplex dominion, and stretched an iron sceptre over a
'^^stnte and benighted universe. St Anselm, Roscelinns, William of Champeaux,
^i^ard, Peter Lombard, John of Salisbury, Amaury, Bonaventura, and Thomas Aquinas,
^ the chief illustrious names connected with philosophic pursuits which appear in this
Sit this very Logic, which was employed as a mere instrument of wrangling, contained
'•^ia it the seeds of greater things — it led the mind to inquire into the origin of know-
^; the rales of evidence, the criteria of truth, &c. It found the solution of these
'{"iati hy the Church unsatisfactory, while its practice militated against the laws which
'3« foQsd to reguUte the development of human thought. The Church, however, had
^'^iaoorporated the Logic of Aristotle with its other would-be infallible decisions, that,
*^ ^bts of the utility of such studies entered the mind, men were punished as heretics,
acl tbus the initiatory steps were taken which eventually resulted in that mighty, that
'>£|4nllcl^ movement, in wluch all dominion, merely human, over human reason, was
'^^taoptuonsly renounced. The Church having been found fallible in one point, the idea
'' isCallibility began to wane, and the mind, having loosed some of its fetters, was too
-^?P7 in liberty not to attempt greater revolts. Roger Bacon, Duus Scotus, Raymond
l-'ijy, William Occam, John Charlier de Gerson, Manettus, Lodovicus Vivos, and that
" W4 and persevering spirit,** Peter Ramus, arise in our memory as worthy of notice.
ilL Modem Philosophy. — Printing has been invented— the Xew World is discovered
•; ^'Uambus — the passage by sea to India is found — " Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin " is
^ wninottsly written on the walls of the Church of the Seven Hills. Great things are
'*"^^Ito 'their Initb— mind is in a ferment — ^unwonted activitv animates thouj^ht. The
356
THE INQCIRER.
indomitable spirit of Luther burst asunder the fetters of the all-potent Church like stublle-
withes. Then rushed that flood-tide of passion across the mind of man which made
resistance to this monstrous soul-tyranny a virtue. They resisted; and " they stood fiw*—
free, but not " alone," for by their side, " that they might not be moved," was God. Then
the philosophy of Bacon dawned upon the world, teaching men that they were "the
servants and interpreters of Nature, and conld only act and understand so far as thrj
observed and studied the order of Nature." Descartes wrought out the criteria of meta-
physical truth, and the formula of philosophic thought. Arts, Science, Civilization, Free-
dom, Religion, grew and flourished. In rapid order arose the various philosophies of
mind and matter; and the names, amongst others, of Hobbcs, Spinoza, Locke, Gassendi,
Leibnitz, Berkeley, Ilumc, Condillac, Kant, Reid, Fichte, Schelling, Stewart, Jacobi, ScUegel,
Hegel, Brown, Coleridge, Cousin, Schulze, Sir William Hamilton, Comte, &c., were in rspW
succession written in characters of light upon the page of Fame.
In an appendix we shall endeavour to condense an account of philosophic thought in
America. As the tendencies of Philosophy there are the direct results of "EuropetB
Philosophy," we apprehend that this will be found a fitting sequel. The names of
Edwards, Schmucker, Upham, Tappan, Ranch, Hickok, &c., will grace this page, whiles
general abstract of the progress of Philosophy in modem times, and an estimate of the
tendencies of Thought, will form an appropriate conclusion.
The foregoing abstract may rather be considered as a running table of contents than tf
an appreciation or signalization of the phases of philosophic thought : as such we h<7>
our readers will receive it with indulgence. The ideal outline, rude and imperfect as it
is, is now before you. May we be able to fill it up fittingly !
€\i %^\m.
QUESTIONS REQUIRING ANSWERS.
ISO. Can I beg of you to give me a short account
of the origin and nature of manors t What is
enacted by the statute. Quia emptoresf Why
must eUl manors, eristiny at the present day,
have existed be/ore that statute was passed f Au
aoRwer inserted in the British Controversialist
would be esteemed a very great favour by —
Inquirer.
121. I wi»h to enter the Church of Engltnd as
a minister; but being possessed of a /tmt<r<i in-
come, I take the libertj of inquiring, through the
medium of your journal, the best and least ex-
pensive method of so doing, the probable cost,
and the examination (if any) that has to be passed
previous to entering college. — A Subscribkr.
132. I should esteem it a great favour if any
of your experienced correspondents could inform
me—
1 . Of the conditions and intellectual attainments
reiiuired of a young man before he can enter a
Dissenting college to be titiined for the ministry.
2. The plan of studies pursued from beginning
to end of such college course, or of any " manual,"
giving the information I seek — ** Earvrst."
233. Being about to have my name entered on
the boards of one ofthecoUeges at Cambridge,!
of ray friends advise me to study for honov*!
others tell me that, as I have no aptitudslkr
mathematics, I had b^ter not attempt Ihrt. M
study, OS they eall it, for an ordinary degree. Kff*
I Hbottid like much to know, if any of your iiaM*
could inform me, what ia Uie diOermet bctvf*
the two courses of study, and what, if any, areA>
peculiar advantages of pursuing eadh reapeeti*ely:
advantages, I mean, to be gained thereby ■i'
one has left college.
Any other inrormation respectilif
University will oblige. — S. £. £.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
101. TheStudyof Language.— Thepltn'n^
to be adopted by ** Avarus " is one that / iM^
recommeftd. The maxim, ** He who bnali H^
hares leaves one and loses the other," viD* ^
think, apply in this instance. The study of tff
language requires great attention, and an irodivi^
energy 9hould be directed to it ; and, if itb wiA»
to unite witli it any other study, then tlMthovi^
are distracted and the energies divided, and a*
only will tliere be no saving of tisBe, bal d#
I
THE tXQUIREB.
S57
f^R^atadfvin be so tneeeBtfUljr ptmaed m
if cKh had K«riTed a Mfwrate wad undivided
•OMWa^D.H.
^ Htm lo keep m iNtfry.— Tbe term " diary "
(«^TedfrQB du*,the Latia for dmy) lignifiea a
wT Reaid, or •eeoont of eveiy day • trai»>
•^ioBi. Thoae who deafav to keep one, but bare
Bhoto not made the attempt, will find the fol-
lovinr hiali of lerriee ; the pe euliar dreunutauce*
<< KRBe penoiis may, howerrr, render modifica-
iHB»«iMadditioiM necessary: —
1. A ditry lAoaM eontain an aooount of every
<^'i tmaaetioas, for events apparently insig-
o^Bcmt at the time may materially affect the
("cne of oar sAer-lifiB, and a day in which abso-
way nothing has been done is not one of the
winpottant in the view of those who have
f^ to their moral progress. Consequently, a
wtottoeontsin sneh an aeeonnt should be largo,
>3prapoiiionlo the amount of time and pains we
^<^7 devote to it, and should be strongly
^^liit is intended to be kept long— to be s
«^ook. Ttihoald be ruled, but not ready-dated,
y*** of the prepared diaries are ; for on some
«n tbtre will be, probably, little to record, while
^'t^viU be fbU. perhaps, of striking and im.
P^[(>Bt ercitfs, requiring much longer notioe.
t h sboold be as lefobly written as possible, in
tremiL easy, attorney-like hand.
<>• h akouJd be perfectly faithfUl in every re-
"P*^ Tboe b no need of dwelling on this point,.
^ I ^«qme no person writes a diary for the
y^^^yw of others, or to aoquire a posthumous
'J**** (of which vanity we have an example,
P<™p». in •• Cesar's Conunentaries"), but as a
■Mai ofmotal and inlellectual progress.
V It dioald eontain an account of sJl trans-
11^^ v^olhCT'men,of current prices of articles
«r»ulaod dotliing, of travels and places visited,
<n Bcv RiaiioBs entered into— of all, in short, of
*nct it may be important to remember the dates
Psnwimrtances; also with those who keep no
^f^ seoonats of ineome and expenditure, of
Cms ^ and moneys reeeived.
i. It should eontain a fUthful relation of all
f^<^!Boes, of omission and commission, against
^ and against man, against the law of con-
{2?^ «ad against the law of the land, of secret
ya M well as of open sins. This i« absolutely
**■*«) if we would have our diaries faithful
^^ «f our mora] condition, and the only way
^ *^ we ean render them effectual means of
'^pn>gves«. For the same end those who
*^ to keep complete diaries should record all
y^"oaf^ after hnptuvement, and new resolutions
«* iBKthimcat formed.
J^ Books read sboold be noticed, and their con-
^ miewed, brieOy or at length, according to
** lapression they may have produced on our
2«Ms, and the time and attention we have
"^^ed on tfaem. Soch review, however, should
2J) Wcoempted by those who have full leisure
?^ ft>r it, and then only when the particular book
^^^een careAiUy reaul and reviewed mentally,
*^ rn»M«^yjgf^ one's thoughts of it to paper.
'• la our otasenraikms upon the character and
fftiaet of ethers vre should be especially eareftil
■^ nnembcr the golden rule of charity, " Think
Bo/Til one of another."
• ludieeinal or moral progresa which we have
***^<iv think we have nade, ahotild from time
^tnebemovded.
These rules, if eoHMcientiouMly followed, will, I
believe, in a few years produce ample flruits in
increased diligence and attention to every-day
business, in a contented spirit, and in enlightened
views of moral and intellectual responsibili^. —
NoN Nobis Soli}m.
114. jfn ^erboriMM.— The method of forming
an herbariimi is very simple. B. F. will, of
course, take his " Manual of Botany " as a guide,
and arrange his specimens according to the order
as there laid down. The plants he wishes to pre-
serve should be gathered in fine weather, and
submitted to the following process of drying : —
Place each plant between several sheets of blotting-
paper, and iron it with a smooth heater, pret^
strongly warmed, till ail the moisture is dissipated,
which will have a tendency to fix the colours. In
compound flowers, and those of a stubborn and
solid form, some art is required in cutting away
the under part, so as to obtain a view of the profile
and form of the flowers ; this is especially neces-
sary when the method is adopted of fixing the
flowers and fructification to the paper previous to
ironing. R. F. must always be careful to keep
his herbarium in a dry place. — L. S.
I am myself no botanist, and cannot therefore give
the result of any practical experience of my own,
on the method of preserving plants. However,
in the ** Popular Educator" there is an article on
the subject, from which I shall take a few extracts,
and pen them in as $maU a compasM eu possible.
The plants should be collected in dnr weather,
and should on no account be placed in water
after being gathered. You will require a number
of sheets of red blotting paper, and a small press
ofsome kind or other. Lay the plant you wish to-
preserve on two or three sheets of blotting paper,
previously heated at the fire till they become as
hot as they can be macle without scorching:
arrange the leaves naturally, pressing down anv
stubborn stalks, and disposmg the flowers with
the greatest rare. When ttie plant is arranged, lay
over it half a dozen sheets of blotting paper; then
msert another plant, and so proceed with succes-
sive layers. Put them in the press, and screw it
up. After about three days the plant should be
taken out, and fresh paper substituted, and the
damp paper dried for further use. The specimens,
if not vei^ fleshy or robust, will be dried in the
course of a week, or even less time. The (^nicker
the process used for drying, the more will the
colour be retained. Smidl specimens may be
dried in o book, warmed by the heat of the pocket.
The article from which the above is extracted
gives much fUUer directions than space will permit
me to do here. It also furnishes instruction for
arranging the plants when dried: and I would
therefore recommend R. F. to purchase the 17th
number of the " Popular Educator."— D. H.
116. Laughing Gas.— Nitrous oxide, or " laugh-
ing gas," is composed of an equal number of equi-
valents of nitrogen and oxygen (fourteen parts
nitrogen, eight parts oxygen). It is easily made,
by subjecting thoroughly dry nitrate of ammonia,
in fine powder, to a degree of heat equal to 275°
Fahr. A flask should be employed to contain the
salt, having a bent tube for the conveyance of the
gas into a pneumatic trough. Below 975° sub-
limation occurs, which, if suffered to proceed, soon
causes a stoppage in the inner aperture of the
tube, and thus, preventing egress, occasions a
I fracture of the flask. If, on the other hand, the
d5S
TUE UHqUUiKS.
heat be supeiigr, uitric oxide is also evolved, a
gas extremely deleterious to the luiigs. Ttiis,
Eowever, may be detected by dissolving a small
quantity of sulphate of iron (the common gmen
vitriol) u the water of the trough, thus fornamg a
aolntion capable of shoving the presence of nitrir
oxide, by ohaaging from an umost colourless
fiqoid to a blacaisH one. The proper degree ol
heat, therefore, can be easily obtained.
The gas thos generated is collected in a rpoeiver
over the pneumatic trough ; it is devoid of colour,
taste, and smell, and possesses a density some-
what greater than common air.
" lAoghing gas " is respirable, but unfitted to
«upportIife. Its efibcts vary as the temperament
of persons inhaling it. Some few it is mcapable
of ajffectinfi; ; but for the most part Uie sensations
produced by it are pleasurable. Sir Humphrey
Pavy, in 1799, was the first chemist who accu-
rately investigated it. We subjoin, as a Mr
description of its effect, that of Davy. He
writes: — " Having previously closed my nos-
trils, and exhatuted my lungs, I breathed four
quarts of nitrous oxide from and into a silk bag.
The first feelings were similar to those pro-
•duoed in the last experiment (^ddiness), but in
less than half a minute, the respuntion being con-
tinued, they diminished gradually, and were suc-
ceeded by a sensation analogous to gentle pressure
on all the muscles, attended* by a highly pleasur-
«ble thrilling, particularly in the chest and the
extremities. The objects around me became
dazzling, and my hearing more acute. Towards
the last inspiration the thrilling increased, the
sense of muscular power became greater, and at
last an irresistible propensity to action was in-
dulged in. I recollect but indistinctly what fol-
lowed. I know that my motions were various
tind violent
*' These effects very soon ceased after respira-
tion. In ten minutes I had recovered my natural
state of mind. The thrilling in the extremities
continued longer than the other sensations.
" This gas has been breathed by a vei'y great
number of persons, and almost every one has
observed the same things. On some few, indeed,
it has no effect whatever, and on others the effects
are always painful." — C. J. H.
Laughing gas ^chemically termed nitrous
oxide) IS a combination of nitrogen and oxvgen.
Its composition, according to afom, is 1 of nitrogen
and 1 of oxygen ; according to volume, 1 of nitro-
gen and A of oxygen; its equivalent or atomic
weight being 22. There is a great difference he
tween the chemical and philosophical atom ; the
latter is the supposed ultimate molecule which is
incapable of division, the shape of which being
(according to the great raiu^^i^^? ^^ philosophers)
spherical, the interspaces being filled up with what
is termed luminiferou* ether, or tlie bearer of
light; the former (chemical atom) being the
M-mallest quantity with which one substance will
COM BIKE with another. The standard by which
we reckon the chemical atom is hydrogen, which,
being the lightest, is taken as one. On the con-
tinent oxygen is taken as the standard, which is
A HUNDRED. The atomlc number is reckoned
from hydrogen, and is consequently relative ; for
Instance, the atomic weight of oxygen is 8, i. e.,
the least proportion of oxygen required to combine
with another substance is eiffht ttmn as much as
hydrogen, andof nitrogen/otf rleea timet as much;
therefore the atomic weight of nitrogen is 14.
The formula for laughing gas would be as fol
lows : —
1 atom of nitrogea 14, which is its atomic weight
1 atom of oxygen ts, ditto ditto
32 the atomic wsigfa of laugh-
ing pas.
This laughing gas, or nitrous oxide, is obtaind
from nitrate of ammonia. Kitrate of amuouia ii
composed of nitric acid and ammouia; the tunnta
consists of
1 atom of nitrogen, 14; and
5 ditto of oxygen, 40 :
the latter, of 1 atom of hydrogen, 14 ; and
3 ditto of hydrogen, 3
The atomic wdght of ammonia is 17.
It is prepared by heating the nitrate of ammonii
in a Florence flahk; when this salt deeompotet
3 atoms of oxygen from the nUrie aeid unite wtU
3 atoms of hydrogen from the ttnuDonia,and fon
3 atoms of water. The remaining 8 atoms «
oxygen from the nitric aeid uniie with the 1 atoi
of nitrogen fh>m the ammonia, and the 1 aUH
remainins from the nitric acid, forming 2 of nitn
gen and 2 of oxygen, which, together oombintH
form 2 atoms of laughing gas, w^ch |mm over.
The gas is coloui-less and heavy, it is ahghtj
absorbed by water, and has a sweetish taste,
supports ren^iniuon and oombustiioa, on aceoiu
of the oxygen it contains.
Before respired, it should be caraAilly wash<
with water, in order to Ik'ee it from any nitnM
acid which might be mixed with it. When ii
haled, it is a very powerflil stimulaBt, as is w<
known. Although numbers have taken U withoi
any apparent ii\)ttrious effect, yet I balieve, e%<
in the healthy, it acts pr^udkaally (howc^
slightly) on the constitati<m. In many morli
coudiaous, as organic disease of the heart, disea
of lungs^ tendency to a^^oplexy, ice., it would
most decidedl V detrimental, and the ill elfects pi
duced, most likely, would be of a vary aerie
nature, and might prove fatal.— A. S.
119. /Mcitfra^ioa.— Strictly speaking, a chick
is neither hatched from the white nor the yolk
an egg, but fh>m a little B«mi4>paqne spot aN
an eighth of an inch in diameter, tenoad the cii
tricutat or germ-spot, and which may be detecl
on the surmoe of the yolk-bag of a frcah e\
This, during incubation, extends itseif iuto i
geriKinal memltrane, which gradually iipm
over and encloses the yolk, and on the cent
portion of which the embiyo is davelo]>ed.
further information is required by P. C. C, be vi
do well to consult ** Carpeiitar*s Principle^t
General and Comparative Physiology.** — A. C
The chemistry of lib is cerufbUy ou^
the most deeply interesting, yet subtile 9uUji
to which the inquiring mind ean ba dirert
To affirm dogmatically that the godlike pnnci^
the life-giving qnality, is inhsmt in the jolM
white or an m^ exdnsively, wooM be aay
more than the f^nx eye of tM most •eooanplisl
chemist can discover. Nay, in tha eye of
chemist, the yolk and the white aretise same, ^
albumen ; the diffisrence of eolour arteMiir t
the presence of a little Tellewoil. Biit whs
albumen 7 A glairy fluid, the diief prop«*rti
which is its coagulabUicy by the action of ii^
but a fluid in which motion aad lifis elisde
THE TOUHO trUDBVT AMD WBITEb's ASSISTAHT.
359
evenst icnitiny. liebig on this subject (if my
aemory wrrvs me) makes no mention of he
Folk: sod hu remarks upon the white are so
«rj general, that thef could scaroely be made to J
>ear OD tbe point at Imo*. But there is a passaf^e i
a a lectan by Thomas Turner, Esq., 1' JLS.,
which may satisfy P. C. C; it is, " If thene parU
(the yolk and the white) are examined chemically
— for they are not the germ, the germ is in con-
nexion u;ilh the yolk ; .... the egtf contains what
is neceifsa^ for the developing bird during its
habitat iu the shell.' - U. C.
Cjn ^nnng Itnhnt nni Wnkfs assistant
GRAMMAR CLASS.
Eiercitet in Oranunar. — No, VTTT.
1. Write oat tbe following sentences, and nn-
ddinc the adjectives : —
Old men are not always wise. A soft answer
^mA an-ay wrath Have no dealings with on
a man. Foolish conversation should be
L Sin is hurtful to the soul. Some have
te nt to mi^e the worse appear the better
The most severe strokes of Providence
are generally healed by time. This man is wiser
than his brother. The most faithAil dealing and
tlie purest motives are oAen uiisuuderstood. The
liberal devise generous things. The peacemaker
is blessed in his deeds. The meek shall inherit
the earth. Light is sown for the righteous.
2. Make a form like tlie one given, and place
the positive, comparative, and superlative forms
ot the aiyectives in the preceding exercise in their
proper columns : —
ADJECTIVES.
Pobiuve.
Comparative.
iSui>erlative.
Old.
Older, or elder.
Oldest, or eldest.
i. Underline the proper ai\jectives in the fol
Mag seotences : —
Tke English were sufBcientlr foolish to inter-
In «i(h the Fnnth Revolution. The Scotch
Gr|S voe % ery valiant at Waterloo. The Swiss
IMfboootended many years for liberty. Scrip-
ilRl knowledge ki most valuable. The Welsh
Joritbeir language as tht most beautiful spoken.
ttiBaurbon fiunily has been most unfortunate.
i Make aentenees, using eadi pair of the fol-
, in the positive ; secondly,
tive ; and, thirdly, in the superlative
- I
' Hfm, BMiviflil ; good, honourable ; honest,
^"^t; industrious, late; poor, lespectable; rich,
ohaate, sentimental.
i: — I. That man is both wi^ and
S. That man is wiser, and at tbe same
HMc men;iful, than his neifjfhbonr. 3. That
■w fa ihevisaat and most merciful man I know.
&«>••
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— VII.
Arithmetic and Algebra.
Quettion 21. Let x v= hours between the times
of suirtiu|( and meeting of the trains ; tL«u the
train A will travel the whole distance in x -f il
hours, and the train B in x + 6 hours. If the
whole distance in miles be represented by d, A
travels at tlie rate of — - miles per hour, and B
d *+^
travels r miles per hour; therefore, when
X + 3 J
tliey meet, A has travelled x. - ^ miles, and B
' ' rf jr+9 *
has travelled x. miles ; but these two dis.
x+5
tances make up the whole distance : —
rf d ^
.'. X. : + X. — —1 = d.
x+U x+5
£xpuii|ring d from tliis equation, and multiplying
out, we Ret —
a?«+5r+x«+9x=x* + 14x+45.
,-. x'= 4^
X = ^/4j=0-70«204 hours.
.*. Train A was 10'70820l. or 15 houra, 42
minutes, 395 seconds ; and train B was 11 700204,
or 1 1 liours, 42 minutes, 29*5 seconda upon the
road — Ans.
Wo H<>e from this solution that, in a question of
<wrtlin* of the Methodology , thii kind, the distance between the places is not
I required to be known ; and the reduction of tlie
above equation shows us that, in all similar ques-
tii)n<i, X will be equal to the square root of the
product of the two siven numbers of hours, or is
, a mean proportional between them. C. D« S&.
LOGIC CLASS.
r m Ike Art ^ Reatoning.—No. XIX.
L What ia Method, and of how many parts
iMkeoBsbtr
1. Mwitfnii aome of the pre-requisitea of Enow-
ChmaVbe the traa Method of Science.
1 MmiaB mmn of the defects of the Baconian
k ttN« « eoadM ootlina of Comte's " Philo-
■Ua Ptoak&ve.*
_. ^ jA M the mlM by wbieh methodical
Itieu ~ ^ Il» pri» of uch : but, if I '
□innbvT iHiijlit, IbcR — - wniilii bn U
f Dch, wbinh, BccaTdinff tit ihe queMioD, ^
citncling the root j
tod goes twelve tiuHa u ((v
IH I
Note.— rAi. «.
unber oT cnbie feel of w
d one bnihd of catl F
.; The uul number ofbiulieles
Sluax~-J^=r*i»I^ -^xMn-aMsSOS.newlj. V.
•nili-j(=l QDBSTIONS FOE 30LDTI0N.— IX.
.-.,b7«iUitioo.3i=!8 ArMmiHc ami Alttbra.
mi] by l'alatclioa,3f^Slt.uid 11=10. *^*I>< whiofawonlit UUie B mil C M diTI.olA
I.e. U. C. mnd fi e deji. Ho* long wonld eiicL vtUumM
^uMini IS. Id D be d?uD(ier ot Ihe larHet 33- If I aelL Three Per CenU. u M. d wM
circle, inil rf ihs ditoieur of itae nDiHn-; then price muw 1 purcbiM Tiro end* Iltlf per C^L
D>x*78M=iim or the Imrnr. wad d'-TBH=fTn to idd d per ecat. lo mr incomer
lI>'-i('lx;»M=|I)+*)(D-<il)f7B54lI), .li Suppotinn Ll lo p.j . r«n»l oftl«mL«0*
jW+lSO)(M0-]IW)X'7BS4=UOxaax'?SM= >cn^irntiJ,wbitwillmM<)rM.istherMl
«. . ~ .« L .■ M.OiV™.7i+8.=UT,»iii|9«+7»=l«,*
QwHunia. ThediDnetrrortlieiphen mun flndiuidj. t » -.
;v71,',T^il,!""S' "' .""''"P^e" <•= 16. The.t.perfid.?S^if.«ml.»q»*4
4-5' <-W30=»j-7130S cubic fcer. L. B. .him hnght ii to mcbti.
^.h™ 13. _ wbSi^^Sd^a^ r™ wS^ Sc'^'i2'-S5
Tcul ™i.lwn=sin«^-'^*x 33= «0 + SOT = fr^''VinVh«.'*' Wb^ weIiro«'*IiiS*^
mWniS. At^e^^l.Tc^lind^', ud c<ub •u]>erildtl conleDU F
^T-lit'rgMirt"fK»<irr'oa ODt ioch of Ibe ?fj, tor."" d'S" ". ""P*- "" *'2^,ff
pi™n="-'^--*=21S0IW. Hlb. on the whole inin. when it h« it*
Ellitnnr.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "tRE ART OF RBASONINO.**
No. X.— ON STYLE.
Laxguage is the oataral interpreter between soul and soni ; and Style is that gennine
ud beantiful product of the mind bj wblch the resnlts, distinctions, combinations, and con-
oezioiis of systematic thought are transfigared and glorified. The play of feature, however
^dlcate and exquisite^ — the smile of modest admiration — the changing cheek — the writhing
fip-the contorted frame — the passion-clouds upon the brow — " the heavenly Rhetoric of
tfce fye" — all the infinite variety of bodily gesture or facial expression — while they may
^mome, and indeed often are, admirable exponents of human emotions, are vexy far from
^Dg capable of giving adequate symbolic manifestations of those intellectual activities
vhcce results ore thought*. Speech alone is capable of imparting that appropriate explicit-
BHs to the conceptions of man which they require. It is only through the possession of
t]u« ikcnlty tliat man is enabled " to seize, at once, the roving thought, and fix it," and
tluis embody and incarnate the results of the processes of the Intellection in
''Eloquence which, like the vows of love,
Can steal suspicion from the hearts
or all that listen."
^jbjr this can the spiritual element in our nature be fittingly revealed, and our faculty
<>f tlwoght be thoroughly and effectually disciplined. The inward and unseen is thus
XBdcred visible, and the outward sign enables our thoughts to pass current through the
*<Brii To give clear utterance to clear thoughts is the chief requisite in Style. To
*6et this, words must be well chosen, correctly arranged, and pertinent to the topic of
^Moone; th^ must be grammatically and logically assorted before they can be either
^>9>ent or penniauve. The acquisition of the power of employing an apt transparency of
' "^''jj^g — of picturing forth our thoughts in clear, cogent, felicitous diction—of using
tbi amplcait language with elegance and the most adorned with ease and propriety, and of
*^&g the charms of grace and beauty to those *' winged accents " in which we give
^'tnnee to mir ideas, while it is of vast importance as an em/, is of still greater moment
*^ rqnarded as the meant by which our own souls are educated, as well as the medium
wingh which we educate the souls of others. Hence it is that " NchU prima tit elo-
f^Am virtiUf persphuitatf propria verba, rectus ordo, non in Tongum dilata conclusio ;
^'^ fteque dent neque su^rjluat,*^* The vital importance of accuracy, in the art of
will be perceived at once; but as there are other accompanying graces
* "To at Pcrspieulty should be the chief excellence of Style, proper word«, an accurate arrange-
■■■{» a period not drawn out in length; nothing should be wonting, nothing should be superfluous."
'••'/MfiteeM/'lib.viiL
2 r
362 RHETORIC. — SO. X.
of Style to wliicli some attention is requisite, wc shall -di^tribate our remarks in a classified
form, nnder the six following topics, viz., — Perspicuity, Conciseness, Unity, Strength,
Vivacity, and Harmony, — which comprise all the most essential qualities of Style, so far
as regards the structure and arrangement of sentences.
I. "Perspicuity consists in the using of proper terms for the ideas or thoughts which
we would have pass from our own minds into those of other men. It is this that gives
them an easy entrance; and it is with delight that men hearken to those whom theyeasilj
understand. Whereas what is obscurely said, dying as it is spoken, is usually not cnl/
lost, but creates a prejudice iu the hearer, as if he that spoke knew not what he said, or
was afraid to have it understood." * It entirely objects to the couching of our ideas ia
Tflgne, inaccurate, obscure^ or ambiguous phraseology, where the thoughts
" Fill before tbe mind,
As flit tbf vnow.fiukes ia a winter's storm,
Seen rather tban distinj^iiisbed."
It demands the constant and uniform employment of such words, phrases, and idiomatic
constructions as shall make the conceptions of our minds clear, obvious, and easilj com-
prehended. The outlines of our thoiiglits must be sharply defined, boldly sketched, dis-
tinct, complete, carefully discriminated and demarcated from everything similar, as weH
as harmoniously consorted with each other. " Without this," says Dr. Blair, " tlie richest
ornaments of Stylo only glimmer throngh the dark, and puzzle instead of pleasing tbi
reader" or hearer. *' Man," says William von Humboldt, " speaks hecavse he thinks."
Language ought, therefore, to exhibit thought, not conceal it. The man who cannot
speak plain truths in plain words is, so far at least as his hearers or readers are concerned,
as despicable as the man who will not. Those who listen or read have a right to expect
that no unnecessary confusion, embarrassment, or inconvenience — no difficulty not nnavad-
ably incident to the subject — should be imposed upon them; but that they should receit*
as much instruction and pleasure, at the smallest possible expense of time and thonght, a*
the case will admit of. It is tnie, that in some cases a writer cannot give his thotigbtf
the eloquence of beauty; but he may at all times bestow on them that much more reqoiflt*
eloquence — perspicuous utterance. It is true, that men generally delight in pcrnaDj
those works in which,
" With the light of thoughtrul reason mixed,
Shines lively fancy and tlie feeluig heart."
But the chief tine qua non of delight is a clear and ready comprehension of the ideas prt^
sented to the mind. This can only be produced when the meaning of a sentence, w *
collocation of sentences, is so transparent as not only to render misunderstanding difficolt
but impossible. As quickly as one reads, supposing him to have an average acqnaintaoc*
with the language, combined with ordinary intellectual powers, so quickly sbonld h*
understand. If he must laboriously reflect, carefully remember, frequently pause to it-
consider, re-examine the context, re-rea<l the sentences, or is otherwise hindered from £>"
covering the intended meaning, the Style is defective in Perspiccuty. When sentences alt
• Locke* " Some Tboughte concvrning Keading and Study."— -Works, voL b. p. OOL
nmoBic— so. x. 363
M oomposed tbmt there b no mistaking the signification — when one meaning alone, and
tbat the one intended, can be foimd in the passage — the jus et norma perspicuikttU have
been obeyed. Words taken singljr have many significations; in composition, however, they
kce their individual meaning, and form, by their syntactic junction, one special expression,
indicative of the whole thonght which is intended to be unfolded at the time. The
nor ooosigmficandes which each word beats most be carefoUy noted; the one meaning
apaUe of becoming, m conjmction with the needful accessorial and adjunctive terms,
ik ezponeot of the special idea reqniring exposition, most be adopted, and the whole sen-
tffice must be so arranged that the precise and exact conception shall necessarily and
ioeritaUy arise in the mind of the party addressed, and that all other interpretations may
be aa absdntely excloded. It is, of course, quite evident that there are two pre-requisites
to the attiunment of such a manner of composition, viz. — 1st. A complete and accurate
bswkdge of the language in which we speak or write, and a ready practical mastery of
it: 2nd. Logical precision of thought. If the medium through which ideas are to be
med is deficient in transparency, an accurate acquaintance with them cannot be gained;
aad if the ideas themselves be hazy and indistinct, no clearness in the mediam can possibly
sake them capable of being accurately observed. Thought being the primary, demands
tke chief attention; for Horace truly remarks, " Scribendi rccte sapere est et principium et
las."* If we suppose the possession of clear thoughts, then a proper choice and collo-
estioa ci words should secure the perspicuity of the sentence. It is very true, however, as
Aithlsahop Whately says, " that perspicuity is a relative term, and, consequently, cannot be
fndicated of any work without a tacit reference to the class of readers or hearers for whom
it is designed; and also that it is not inconsistent with ornament and conciseness;" and
tia» ooght to be kept distinctly in view in forming our judgment regarding any work.
Hiring thus explained what is meant by the term Perspicuity, we shall lay before our
Tttiea, in the Ibrm of rules, a few of the chief points involved in the subject.
I. The words and members which constitute a period ought to be so arranged as to
ttcare syntactical completeness and accuracy; or, in other more specific terms, adjectives,
RhtiTe proBonns, participles, adverbs, and explanatory clauses, should be placed as near
u posaUe to the words to which they relate, and in such positions as shall make their
peferenee quite apparent. Nouns and pronouns should, in general, be placed immediately
bcfoTP or after the verbs with which they are connected; prepositions should always pre-
ctd? the nouns they govern, and conjunctions ought to stand between those words or
daoses which they are intended to conjoin. This rule is frequently violated. The fol-
knriog tnstances of the neglect of it may be quoted, viz. :—
L " There is, anong the people of all countries and of all religions, a belief of immortality, arising
fcaa the natnnl deshv of liring, and strengthened by tradition, which has certainly some influence
iq^m pnedt»y aad some effect in fortifying Uie soul against the terrors of death."— I-iiu£»ay*» Ser-
■9^. Which should follow immortaiitif.
i. " And* indeed, in some cases, we derive as much or more pleasure trom that source than from
fee thing itaell '^Burke on the Svblime and BeauO/ul. Better thus :— And, indeed, in some cases,
«e dcmc a* much pkaaore from that source as from the thing itself, perhaps more.
• M
To think well is the first principle and fountain of correct writing."
364 RRETOBIC. — NO. X.
3. *' The young
Gather their joye op «mdeme«th the tears
Of aged eyea— moiet, periahable joys ;
And scarce the dew has dried upon the leaf,
Than they, too, tkdtT—Smith'i " Sir WUliam Crichtonr
Than should be Ere»
4. *' AboTe rolled the planets, each, by its own liquid orbit of lipiht, distinguished tnm the inferior
or mora distant stars.**— Scoffs ** Guy Mamurimff," JHttinguuhtd ought to follow tach and pre
ccdefty.
5. "Chancer followed nature everywhere, but was nerer so bold to go before her."— Z>ry(f««t'f
* Bnay 9n Dramatic Poetry."' At should follow bold, as the correlate of so.
0. " Thales was not only famous for his knowledge of nature, but for his moral wisdom.""-
Bi\fieUF» ** Hittorjf of Philo$&phy" Should be— Thales was /smout not only for, &c.
7. " Nor is the reason difficult to be disoemed which has led to the establishment of this moral
law.**— JlfaeMnlosA't *' Distertation on Ethical Science." Better thus :— Nor is the reason wlii>.b
has led to the establishment of this moral law difficult to be discerned.
8. " There are a sort of spirits fkll but once.
But that once is perdition."— iSmil/i's Dramat—** Guidone."'
Better thus >—
There is a sort of spirits who Adl but once,
But that once is perdition.
II. AmVigiutf or obscnritj arising from the uncertain meaning of words, their equivocal
reference to each other, the nse of the same word in different senses, or different woHs in
the same sense, and the introd action of such parenthetical chiases as are not ahsolutel?
necessary, ought to be carefully guarded against. The following sentences maj be quoted
as illustrations of the sort of errors against the committal of which this mle wans us,
vis. —
1. ** Any reasons of doubt which he might hare in this case, would have been reasons of doubt in
the case of other men, who may give more, but cannot give more evident signs of thought than their
fellow-creatures.** — Botingbroke'$ " PhUotophical Essayi," i. sect. 9. This sentence would be improvrti
by saying,— who may give more numerous, &o., or by using the adjective clearer instead of more
evident.
2. ** God hath given to man a busy soul, the agitation whereof cannot but through time and ezp*-
rience work out many hidden truths ; to suppress these would be no other than li\)Uzions to msi>-
kind, whose minds, like so many candles, should be kindled by eaeh other.*'— JSToiTs " Oeeational
Meditationa" These should be (Ais, if, as we presume, it refers to agitaHon: if the antecedent ^
iruthg, the sentence is correct ; but, as the agitation of the busy soul of man is the means by wUlrh
many hidden truths are wrought out, we apprehend that the former is the intended word.
3. " Of the nineteen tyrants who started up under the reign of Oallienui, there was not one who
Cfvoyed a life of peace or a natural death."— e7ibioA*« ** Decline and Fall qf th* Bommn Empire. '
As a man cannot bo said to ei\joy death, even when natural^ some other verb seems wantinx; i<>
express the author's meaning ; periiaps the insertion of the word died immediately after or would U
the easiest emendation.
4. " There ara so many advantages of speaking one's own language well, and being a master <i
it, that, let a man's calling be what it will, it cannot but be worth our taking some pains in it."—
Locke, Better thus, perhaps : — There are so many advantages of speaking one's own language wIL,
and being a master of it, that, whate^'er a man*s calling may be, the study of his native languscy
cannot but be worthy of some pains.
III. The bombastic, the puerile, the inconsistent, the wouM-be-profound, ooght^ as much
as possible, to be aroided. The following are instances of the neglect of this rule, rii.—
RHETORIC.—XO. X. 865
1. " My wound is great, becaut* it i« so unMiL"^Dryden,
S. " Just as the mighty rains,
Which, gathering, flood the valleys in the days
Of autumn ; or at rivers, when snow decayt^
Swaap all tilings in their course, till nought remains
Distinguishable." — Barry Carnwair* " Marcian Colonna."*
3. ** Slow sinks more lovely, ere his race be nm,
Along Morea's hills, the setting sun,
Not as in northern climes, obtcurely briyht,
But one unclouded blaze of living light"— I/yrofi's " Corsair.**
4. " Onrjlag the sceptre all who meet obey." — Ibid,
5. ** From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began ;
I From harmony to harmony,
I Through all the compavs of the notes it ran.
The diapason closing (H\l in man." — Dvydtn.
£ " The Corthagenians were remarkably prtcious of the blood of their own citizens, while thej
la»i»hpd that of their mercenories with reckless prodigality." — Keightltys " Rome." I^recious
'^oald he care/ulf or some word of similar signilicatiou.
IV. To Drnke periods more lengthj than is absolntelj necessary is a great fanlL
"The greatest error of all the rest is the mistaking or misplacing of the last or farthest end of
hovlodgv; for men have entered into a desire of learning and knowledge, sometimes from a natural
1 ranosity—aa inquisitive appetite ; sometimes to entertain tiieir miuds with variety and delight ;
*nt6iuts for ornament and reputation ; and sometimes to enable them to victory of wit and contra-
^Qioa, sad moet times for lucre and profession ; and seldom sincerely to give a true account of the
!pft of their reason to the benefit and use of men ; as if there were sought in knowledge a nouch
*liaeapon to rest a searching and restless spirit, or a terrace for a wondering and variable mind to
i v>ik ip ind down with a fair prospect, or a tower of state for a proud mind to raise itself upon, or a
I ^ or eommanding ground for strife and contention, or a shop for profit or sale, and not a rich
p '^vchoQse for the glory of the Creator and the relief of man's estate." — Bacon's " Advancement of
\ ^^"rv^" This period, we believe, might be, witli much advantage to the sense, as well as ease to
^Knder,redistrihuted, and composed into different periods, thus, perhaps: — I. The greatest error
^^iD the mt is, the mistaking or misplacing of the last or farthest end of knowledge. 2. Men
4!PMr U> have entered into a desire of learning and knowlvdge, sometimes from a natural curiosity
-SB inqiusiUve spirit, sometimes to entertain their miuds with variety and delight, sometimes for
'■ ind reputation, and sometimes to enable tliem to [acquire the] victory of wit and contra-
3. In most eases, hwcever^ professional purposes and the acquisition of lucre are tke
***% esiurs. 4. Seldom do men seek tcisdotn sincerely to give a true account of the gift of their
'**'itt to the benefit and use of man. 5. It oHener seems as if there were sought in knowledge a
'^whereupon to rest a searching and restless [unquiet?] spirit, or a terrace for a wandering and
^*iAle mind to walk up and down with a Aiir prospect, or a tower of atate for a proud mind to raise
**^ ^fan, or a fort or commanding ground for strife and contention, or a shop for profit and sale,
^ not [instead of?] a rich stnrvhouso for the glory of the Creator and the relief of man's estate.
""Ttt VOTds in italics represent tlie changes rendered necessary by the suggested variation of style
^ Iks iBTcdTcd period to the simple : those in brackets seem necessary to complete or improve the
«air.
Thb tamples which we Lave thought it necessary to adduce have occupied so much of
*Vf|ae« thai m have but little more at our disposal for the present paper. Before oon-
.fMiag, h/mrnva, we may be permitted to quote, from one of the great men of the nine-
ttBth eBtai7f a diatiDCtion which ought to obtain between two terms which have been
d66 U WOHAir ICEKTALLT BIFBBIOB TO KAN?
{requentlj employed in this article, Tiz., smbigoitj and obsearity: — *^Ambigui^ u where
the effect of the expression employed is to present in oonjonction divers imports, in sodi
sort, that though to the iDdiyidnal mind in question it appears clear enoagh that in one or
other of them is to be found the import which was intended to be ponveyed, yet irAicA it is
that was intended to be oonveyed is matter of doobfe. Obtairiijf is where, of the expression
employed, the effect is, for the present at least, not to present any one import as that which
was intended to be conveyed. In the case of canhignity, the mind is left to float between two
or some other determinate number of determinate imports; — ^in the case of obscurity, the
mind is left to float amongst an indeterminate, and it may be an infinite number of imports.
Obscurity is ambiguity at its maximum^** The only method by which these defects ot
style may be lully and fairly escaped, is to aim in our writing so to choose and colligate
our terms that we may observe Qninctillian's general rule for perspicuous composition, and
write, Non ut inUlUgere potsUj sed ne omnino po$$it non inUBigert eurandum; t. «., Not
that the hearer may understand if he will, but that he may understand whether he will
or not.
IS WOMAN MEXTALLY INFERIOR TO MAN ?
N£(UTIVB BSPLY.
^,, ... . « The very first , It would, perbapa, oocupv the graaUr part
Of human lire must spnug from woman 8 breast: ^r *i, _^a • i j. i -^ ji
Your fl«t small iroK& aA Uufht you fh)m !.«; o' ***• P**"*"* P»I*»^ «n™P^y *» ch»Bify and
arrange what they have endrnvoured to say.
and dben, without more ado, to diamias the
taught you
Jips;
Tour first tears quenched by her, aod your last
Too oSi breathed out In a women's hearing, | ^l»oJe ^tl» a glinot of mingled soom and
When men have ehrank flora the ignoble care i pity ; but OUT mtention is to make light work
Of watching the last hour of him who led them." : of it.
BraoK. I With the exception of what has been said
'' We shall, perhaps, best please our friends, | by the affirmative writers in favour of oui
and at the same time pass the highest com- | view of the question (and each of them has
pllment in our power upon our opponents, if ^ given us same assistance), their efforts seem
we abstain from any minute or critical ex< to have been almost entirely directed to profve
amination of their several papers upon this I that the mental power of woman is not equal
interesting question. Their arguments have | with that of man^ because iio< MfaitfcoiL In the
been so weak, so mystical, so rambling, and, j onset we took some pains to prevent the dia*
withal, so far-fetched, that we have strung | cussion from assuming this tnm. Nothing can
reason to doubt if any of them can boast the ; be more unjust, or more unreaaooable. Do vre
virtue of sober serwusness in the oomie they | expect to find the perfume of the violet im«
have pursued ; in other words, we believe , parted to the majestic sonflower, or the fina*
more credit to be due to their htorts than ■ granceof the rose emitted by the forest o«k ?
their heads: they have meami right, but gone Each has its own peenliar qnaliftias; bat no
wrong! one would dare to call one of the0atit/«rtor> to
* Benthaoi's " Nomognpby ; or, the Art of Indithig Law Woilu,** irol. iU.
/
IB WeaCAK MUITAIXT IXPERIOR TO MAX?
867
tlw oUwr; aatber would tliej, wen th« diver-
Aj ten tkam y^ater. Each is coostituted
fnpedj to fblii the office usigned to iL
^lut bfts been the nature of the illostra-
tlott adduoed in sapport of woman's mental
iaferiority? Calilogises of iUnatrious states-
Qo, historians, philoaopfaers, poets 1 We
ibwld lament the destin/ of the sex if we
snr vomen nishing into a contest with men
ia all or anj of these pnrsaits. But why do
tlwfie writers overlook one important fact in
MUMfxioQ with this very point? Why so
hrUb in the admiration of great men, and
M oi^ardly in yielding dne honour to those
vfao laid the foundation of their greatness?
Bead the Uvea of oar most illnstrioos princes,
^«t\»&j poets, authors, divines, and in the
Bujonty of instances stands the recorded
^ tbst their greatness is to he attributed
to their icoTiUBR'a influence. It is a cha-
ncteristic of woman that she exercises her
uiflttfnce rather than displays it: but honour
is none the less hers. The reply of Madame
Caaipao to a question from Napoleon, and
iu» igoinder, are directly to the point. The
cDperor, complaining of the old systems of
«dacation, asked, " What is wanting in order
ihst the youth of France he well educated? "
''Ho&ers^ replied Madame Campan. The
^peror seemed struck with the aptness and
tntthfisfaiess of the reply, and, after a pause,
said, *^ Htfe is a system of education in one
vnxL'' And never man spoke more truly.
^ u the province of the mother to impart
^ dectrie infioence which shall awaken
^ OKrgMS and qoicken the genius of her
^&ptiog, and the ex^en^ of this influence
*^ depend upon her mental power and
^apaoty.
A writer in the *' Westminster Beview,"
'<'ae troBe since, beantifalty illustrated this
tmih in the following passage: — " The true
wesaan ^eaks to every tme man who sees
fter. Rfining and exalting his intellect, and
taaking him know that true manhood con-
»I^ in the noUe aetioa of his sooL She
Aoids him from her with all the subtle
'.iimila of his being in firmer tension, and
rememberiog that he, too, is only a little
Wer tfasB tho angda! She can make him
*ork, and dare even death for his work, and
hjs hetft ever beating with the love of the
highpft love. She can do this without
ki^yvii^ it, because her geniua is influence.
Vea; to warm, to cherish into purer life and
motive that shall lead to heroic act — thia
is her goiius — her madness — her song flow-
ing out — she knows not how — going she
knows not whither, but returning never
again. The woman evenly developed — un->
folded after her own type — ^the one God
struck approvingly when she was created—
differs from man^ then, in this — in possessing
a greater capacity — a greater genius to in-
fluence. She influences through no direct
exercise of power, but because she must in-
fluence. Influence breathes from her, and
informs every thing and creature around, and
toe are only conscious of it by its results"
About the same time the " Edinburgh
Review'* very ably and impartially examined
this question. We shall not hesitate to
extract a passage or two bearing with pecu-
liar force on the point before us:-~
" Men in general," says the writer, "when
serious and tiot gdlant, are slow to admit
women even to an equality with themselves;
and tlie prevalent opinion certainly is that
women are inferior in respect of intellect.
This opinion tnay be correct. The question
is a delicate one. We very much doubt,
however, whether sufficient data exist for
I any safe or confident decision; for tlie posi-
• tion of women in society has never been — •
\perhapi never can he — such as to give fair
play to tJieir capabiUties. It is true, no
doubt, that none of them have yet attained
the highest eminence in the highest depart-
ments of intellect. They have had no Sliak«
speare, no Bacon, no Newton, no Milton, no
Raphael, no Mozart, no Watt, no Burke. But
while this is admitted, it is surely not to be
forgotten that these are a few who have
carried off the high prises, to which millions
of men were equally qualified by their train-
ing and education to aspire, and for which
by their actual pursuits they may be held to
have been contending ; while the number of
women who have had either the benefit of
such training, or the incitement of such pur-
suits, has been comparatively insignificanL
When the bearded competitors were num-
bered by thousands, and the smooth-cbinned
by scores, what was the chance of the latter?
or with what reason could their failure bo
ascribed to their inferiority as a class? '*
Again: — ^'^High art and science always
require the whole man, and never yield their
great prizes but to the devotion of a life. But
the li& of a woman, from her cradle upwaxda*
S68
IS W0MA7C MENTALLY INFERIOR TO MAN?
is Otherwise devoted ; and those whose lot it
is to expend their best enerj^ies, from the
age of twenty to the age of forty, in the
cares and datics of maternity, have but
slender cliances of carrying off these great
piizes. It is the same with the high func-
tions of statesmanship, legislation, general-
ship, judgeship, and other elevated stations
and pnrsuits, to which some women, we
believe, have recently asserted the equal pre-
tensions of their sex. Their tfill higher and
indispensable functums of maiemitt/ afford
the answer to ait such claims"
But ** it is in literature that women have
most distinguished themselves; and probably
because hundreds have cultivated literature
for one that has cultivated science or art.
Their list of names would rank high even
amoDg literary males. Madame do Stael
was certainly as powerful a writer as any
man of her age and country; and, whatever
may be the errors of George Sand's opinions,
she is almost without a rival in elo^juence,
power, and invention. Mrs. Hemans, Miss
Edgcworth, Miss B:ullie, Mi&s Austen, Mrs. i
Norton, Miss Mitford, Miss Landon, are '
second only to the first-rate men of their day,
and would probably have ranked even higher, \
had they not been too soUritmis about male I
excellence — hati they not often written from
inan*s point of view instead of from woman's.
* * • So true is this, that, in the
department where they have least followed
men, and spoken more as women — we mean
in fiction — their success has been greatest.
Not to mention other names, surely no man
has surpassed Miss Austen as a delineator of
be
sure.
18
common life? Her range, to
limited; but her art is perfect.
In all she attempts ^e is uniformly and
completely successful."
The purport of the foregoing observations
is clearly to show that, although the mental
capacities of the sexes are constituted in
conformity with the difference in their pur-
suits and destinies, still, where circumstances
have been favourable, females have very
closely affproached to male excellence; but
that, chiefly, their higher powers and energies
became absorbed and concentrated in tlie
noble office of maternity. If those by whom
our first impressions are to be awakened lack '
mental power, what hope is there for our
after-progress! The number of learned men
who hare Adorned our country is one of the
most substantial proofs of woman's meota)
I excellence. Of such a mother as we we
speaking the poet gives us the foUoviog
picture: —
'* Wliere dawns the high expression of a mind
By steps conducting our rarapturH sewh
To that eternal Origin, whose power,
Ttirough all the unbounded symmrtr7 of thiofi.
Like rays effulgiug from the parent son.
Thi» endless mixture of her charms diffusH."
Of the possession of this quiet bat im-
portant power in women Milton must Law
been fully aware, for we find him exclaiming
in " Comus : " —
" All higher knowledge in her presence falls
Dtrgradfd ; wisdom in discourse with her
Loses, dtscouutenanoed, and like folly sbovs;
Authority and re«son on her wait.
Ax one intended jinty not after made
OcrasionaUtj ; and, to consummate all,
(rrratnnt o/mindt and nnblenrss, their seat
Build in her loveliest, and create an avo
Ahout her, as a guard angelic plaoML"
Notwithstanding all this, Milton is said to
have bfcn a hater of women !
The ]K>cts, one and all, seem to hav«
formed a correct opinion of woman's inflneoc^
and power. In addition to those (pioted if
our opening paper, we find Alfred TennrstJ*
reminding us —
** The woman's influence, and the man's,
Tliey rise and fall together; "
while Wordsworth pictures before us
" A perfect woman, nobly plann'd
To warn, to comfort, and command.*'
America sends us an additional and gracefii
wreath, through her poet Eastburn : —
" Woman ! blest partner of our joys and woes .'
Even in tiie darkest hour of earthly ill,
UutaniisJicd yet, thy fond affection glows,
Throbs with each pulse, and beats with er€rf
thrill I
Bright o'er the wasted scene, thou horemtsal*
Angel of comfort to tho Ikiling soul.
• m V • •
When sorrow rends the heart, when fered^
pain
Wrings the last drops of anguish nrom tbebiv**
To soothe the soul, and cool the boming i^*
Oh. who so welcf irae, and so proropc as tbua!
The battle's hurrieil scene and angry |Ek>w,—
The deatli-cncircled pillow of distress,-^
The lonely moments of secluded woe,—
Alike thy care and eonstaiiey eonfesa.
Alike thy pitying hand, and Iwarlns Crioitiik^
bless!'
And Shakspearo boldly tells us—-
** However we do praise ouraelves,
Our/ancici arc more giddy amd mj^firm,
More longing^ tcavrrittg, sooner loil amd rea*
Than women's are."
tt WOlCAjr XniTAU.Y IMFESIOB TO XA2( ?
369
lo ill eooatrieij and in all ages, the good,
ik benic, the baaatif ol, hjive been asaociated
vitli vnao. Think joa, then, reader, that
t^ excelknees ooald be made bo world-
wide sod endnring nnless emulated and flnp>
paled hj high mental power?
"JRWiisind alone, bear witness, bearen and
nitb.
^ Imng fimntains in itself eontsins
^ittuteouM and nblime .' "
Ve ire qnlte prepared to admit, with one
eftheuthoritie;} we have quoted, that, with
'^pablic, the question is, and will remain,
^a time tt least, an unsettled one. Man-
^ are alow to decide against their own
K<HiK«8. The matter rests chiefly on the
^ptioa of improved systems of female edu-
^'Oi, How frequently we meet in female
^^ "haman flowerets,** destined by nature
" To grace in their degree a throne.
Or any rank adorn/'
!«t mopletely crushed in the bud by the
"Tofidal and tawdiy education they have
iwiVei
6at we hope the days of such a system
"(cambered. Public discussion is, perhaps,
under the circumstances, the most efficient
remedy. We are glad to have been instru-
mental in lending a helping hand to a good
cause.
^ We cannot, perhaps, more appropriately
dismiss this subject than in the following
eloquent words of Dr. Blair: — ^•*The pre-
vailing manners of an age depend more than
we are aware of, or are willing to allow, on
the conduct of the women ; this is one of the
principal things on which the machine of
human society turns. Those who allow the
influence which female graces have in con-
tributing to polish the manners of men, would
do well to reflect how great an %:-'fluence
female fnomls mmt alto Itave on their con»
duct. How much, then, it is to be regretted
that women should ever sit down contented
to poliahy when they are able to reform — to
entertain^ tclien they might instruct. Nothing
delights men more than their strength of
understanding, when true gentleness of man-
ners is its associate; united, they become
irresistible orators, blessed with the power of
persuasion, fraught with the sweetness of
instruction, making woman the highest orna-
ment of human nature." C. W., Jan.
AFFIBMATIVE REPLY.
ill ora KVOWLEDOE IS, OURSELTCB TO
MOW."
* Ta hot! to say. If greater want of skill
^ppetr in wrhinf^ or in jodfiiing ill ;
Mil of the two, less dangerous is the offence
^0 lire oar patience, than mishaid our sense.'*
The most difficult and unsatisfactory of
*•• Uboon proverbially is, to controvert those
^'^^ents which will only allow of the sup-
P'^^Iion of their bdng argumentative, because
^ appear in a controversy, and are given
r^seedly to support certain opinions.
^ writers believe there is ample proof
•herded, if they collect quotations and com-
a«it on the "authority" discoverable in
'bsn; while others will confine themselves
*o extracts selected from their opponents,
|U)d. Uriog gathered a few sentences and
'^iilnorinated** them, they close the question
tith^appeals terminating in ** reason," "jus-
t«.* "generous man!" "wide view," "mag-
ratianoas," and the like, doubtless imagining
^\ rach a pTMeas clearly denMmstrates the
^™al error of thdr anUgonists. Some of
^ articles under our consideration fully
substantiate the truth of these remarks; anc!
this is the more remarkable since they con-
tain much strong language about ** arguing,'^
"arenas," "confronting darling opinions,"
and " carrying on controversy in that," &c.
One writer has elaborately unfolded the du»
efiects of certain acts, dilemmas, and trans-
positions, but immediately aAerwards ho
disappeared in the haze of assertion. Another
has seized upon a particular aspect of hi»
private view of the case, and, taking its truth
for granted, distended it into monstrous pro-
portions ; hence concluding that, because one
or more of them contravene the tenets of an
opponent, therefore he himself vindicates
truth; ergoy all others do not.
Now, is not this the most acceptable
method for disputation, that sentiments he
foimded upon adequate causes, and both
mentioned? And, if principles were dealt
with instead of particulars, then there would
be a guarantee for the philosophic treatment
of subjects. Besides, when there is a candid
and unreserved exposition of the grounds of
belief, together with caro and intelligent
370
IS WOMAX MENTALLY Z2IFEIUnR TO UAX ?
Study in cdncinf? and collating them, ve are
famished with the best uf mere mccliuiiical
tests for truth. Not that we suppose that
all men may, by any means, be induced to
think precisely alike; on the contrary,
'* 'TIk with our judgincnUi as our watches ; none
Gu Just aliku, yet each hi-lievcif hU uwn."
Kcvertholess, that there are laws of belief,
and that those laws an^ common to the
human mind, are undisputed pmpositions.
T. v. 0. insists ujxin an " nrranj^ement,"
about which, we have no doubt, he spi-aks
truly iu saying that chsewliere it is not to be
found. Now, we shall not dispute with him
concerning the essential dillercncc between
tone, tejiture, and temperament; but it would
not be just to refrain from remarking on his
definitions and use of terms. In one place
lie dHines ** capacity" as being "the intel-
lect's power of comprehonsion," and "great
capacity, tfie jntwer of hiyntj hold of t/rfttt
»'/t«j?.'" Tliis "lame and imi>otcnt con-
clusion*' is supplied, because lie is fully
aware of something particular and definite
being required! Subse<iuently he tells us
that " gn>at capacity, when applied to the
feelings, means depth of emotion, strtmjth
*\f iihpulitf, and is dependent upon a hrt/t
dtvi liipmtitf o{ the br.iin." Whirre, then, is
the .'>phere for his iine, vigorous, and tem-
peramental properties? Did it never strike
yon, T. F. O., that there is a glaring im-
propriety in applying the epithet, hyhtfj hold
*-f U''*^d id^'iA^ as ct|uivalent to mental iKjr-
ceptivity? Of the vague, accommodating
terms, "comprehension," "capacity," "great
ideas,** he makes frequent use, and fully
avails himself of their singular power of col-
location. The two first named ho employs
to indicate an innately activt; power common
to the mind; but what that ]K>wer is, in
virtue, he has not mentioned, further than
that it is the mind*8 cajiacity for laying hold
of great ideas. Now, if he ha:l but made it
t.> apply particularly, we might, without
doubt, have arrived, at l<>ast, at some ])lau-
y^ible conclusion: e. ^., in the case of the
]>hrenoIogical faculty, numbi-r, it is not dif-
licult to sn]ip08e that the comprehension of
that organ — otJierwise, its great cupacity —
was intended to be equal to vppttciatton,
and to imply the power of appreciating the
values of numbers; while tone, texture, w
temperament would be admissible for supply- ,
ing the vigorous element. This arrangemnt,
then, possessed in a high degree by an iodi*
viflual, enables him to be r^pid in performiog
calculations, and exact in estimating values.
But how to a]>ply this interpretation to manj
of the nnmerous mental organs which bare
an existence of quite as certain entity, ve
are, indeed, at a loss. Would not the tii<^
on texture, since delicacy of touch is one of
its chief cx])onents, elevate the blind above
humanity in general? And is it so?
T. F. 0. does not attempt to substantiate
any of his positions; yet he acknowl&lges
ittmu- of them tu bu novel. lie is' doubtl»S|
aware that \\"hately*8 o««rf prohtmdl hypo-
thesis has exploded. Nowhere does he dis-
tinguish between a principle and an example.
The entire absence of unity and per^picoitj
in exhibiting his subject, and of argument
to enforce his propositions, places his article
in pri'cisely the same position as that in
which a "king'* stands when solitary on a
chess-board ; it is useless to the defendaott
and not to bo captured by tlie adTeraair.
The assumptions, therefore, with which we
disagree, are met by simply propounding the
ntort courteous. His article, liad it bevOf
as professed, jmrely didactic, would haveb<rn
UM-ful : but as it is, it assumes the judge, aui
n>jects the summing up.
Wo now turn to survey the position rf
C. AV., Jun. Wt' cordially agree whh hii
preliminary remarks. Ojiinion d*nt gire
" Kvport of i;ood or evil, ai Ihv acene
Wiu drown by i'uziry, loTely or defuniMd:
Thu8 hur report can uever ihrrv be tni«.
Whfie fani-y cheatH tlie intellectual eye."
But we object to his first aspect of the qiie»<
tion. If the illustration proves anyt bins;, the
evidence is inadmissible, unless vc accept tbi
pnqmsition of man never venerating thins*
beneath himself — a proposition not to be
maintained. And we must not beliew that
])ure]y abstract admiration, and appreciatioi
for the beautiful, are the only elements of
love : abstruse self is the prinuiry source.
The "scale** of this writer also appean
just: it certainly ban the merit of being pU"
lusophic; hence it claims resjiect. Bnt, whili
concurring with the view which it cxhibitti
we strongly deny the infercncti. The solatiA
we admit, but the conclusion we reject; sad,
unfortiinately, C. W., Jun , has notadwKci
proofs establishing the legitimacy of tltti
weighty result. What Unit rctolt vooU
U WOaCA^ XBXTALLY ISPBRIOR TO MAX?
371
Mre, wen it demonstntcdf maj be in-
frnfd from the fact of its appearing on tlio
negatlre. UnquestioDablj, the quotations
ut produced as testimony, testimonj being
ooibidtTed equivalent to proof. Here lica a
£iI1acT. The quotations are nothing more
tiuQ the moment-promptcil opinions of some
f<*fl u«n whose persuasions appear to be col-
Utoral with C. W., Junior's.
Xqt. as the forthcoming reasoning applies
h \ht boifis of every adversary's defence, we
^ivaace it with due care and deference, at
'••■it Mme time being fully convinced that
'4 tmlfa extends to the minutest point, as
'rfl 04 that it forms a complete vindication
>f OCT advocacy. First, then, as C. W., Jun.,
13 no*, provided definitions, we submit a
lefi&ition aud reduction of those hackneyed,
^tgoe terms, *' intellect aal," "moral," and
*Mdaj." Intellectual appears to denote that
^.IdDation of those faculties which pro-
JQce the effects which an said to result
^vio thought, refloctioD, or study. The
lonl £icullies are those which prompt rcc-
itouf: hence the term moral, or justice.
>t is the province of the social order to be
kt e-TOfce of whatever actions — whether
*Mea or exposed — arc referable to that
'f<ll«jw feeling " whidi "makes us wor.drous
^siL' Bfrduoing this abstract feeling, or
TBiiathy, and tracing it to its mental source,
^ &i>) that it springs from a certain pure,
^aiKandvd, Platonic benevolence. Now our
■^ takes up the subject on phrenological
•'ouils. The organ of benevoltMice, then, is
^ object. This faculty, conaidwrwl accord-
^y. is one of the bfinJ projuftMituji. That '
'^i« the true definition all will aeknowlcd^rc. j
■^WTatioD says so. Hence, therefore, the ■
^fpo'ia itself lias no intelligence; its action <
Q t^ niind is that of merely an ahutntrt
f*jfe%3f. Now marie the context, for in it i
iKre lies the culmination. Tlie faculty !
'^ be goverDcd. To what, then, must it J
*Kfttred for guidance? Obviously, to the
™kia;, the r^ectivc, the perceptive ]jrin-
•pits of mental constitution. liut there are
^ which are granted to compose the in- i
i^KtBal; and the intellectual is that portion
r the human mind which C. W., Jun., in
■Mas with each ci our antagonists, has
tiiUj pcwtiiktad to be in man predominant
V veBun. Here, therefore, is the final
Mqant ; aamdy, that oar adversaries, in
toting min to poueas the superior Intel-
I lect, granted that for which we profcn to
: contend ; and more, ahis ! for the admissioii
I inevitably entails nullity on the first and
j essential principles of their own defence.
I It is not a little strange that C. W., Jun.,
. does not enunciate the causes for the Hin-
doo fortitude, constancy, &c., which he
' at)irms of woman when involved in the
(iilemmas at which he hints. And as it is
dubious whether superiority in such coses is
an infallible proof or sign of mtntal supc*
riority, we shall not consider the matter
more in detail th:m by requesting an inference
trum tiie fure;!oing reasoning, and in referring
him to the works of Miss S. Sticknev.
Agreeing with nmch that J. S. J. says,
and believing that the particulars in which
i we diller are removed by the above, we pass
over his article by merely remarking that,
doubtless, second thoughts will ask him to
state dcHnitely, and to prove that statement
when made, in what way *' literature, legis-
lature, and the arts, are governed by women,
Iierha|is, more than by men."
.S. A. J. may be considered to be already
fully noticed. Wc next come to the imomaly
of J. N. C. This writer appeiurs to cultivate
i as]iirations for the beautiful: he invokes
Wisdom to lead him, and to '' teach his best
reabon, reason ;" but^ unhappily, he has caused
the purity of truth and beauty to be enshrined
in the ItUtla Tr!bit«, Tuerile and hackneyed
sentiments nre here found embodied in high-
flowD, pultry gaudincss: in this guisi' they
would pa-ss for the genuine currency of en-
thusiasm.
But let it be seen. During the first four
colnnms our friend ap^tcars to have ])crfonned
very little more than introduce a terbatim
copy of sentences from the opening paper
into his own, and salute them with a pio-
fublon of apostnqihes and interjections. To
example a few instances: — First, let the
essence and climax of proof and import,
found between lines twenty and thirty of the
fsccond column of page 320 be perusefl, and
its argument stated. Second, where is the
proof uf woman excelling in those "other
fruits," and where is the difference between
these fruits and those previously mentioned?
Again, what does J. N. C. mean in the first
column of [Mge 329? Does he flutter himself
that exhibiting an adversary's tenets in a
light the most revolting to his own persuasions
is a process calculated to affect the reason-
378
IB WOS&AV MEITTAIXT INFERIOR TO MAS ?
rnled jadgment? Does he suppose that que-
ries and adjectires are proofs and demon-
strations? If so, we congratulate him.
Farther — and here he takes a high position,
appearing enveloped in all the sacred glory
of a defender of the infrinjred mental dignity
of the softer sex — Has J. N. C. read the
paper he criticizes? If he has, his fiery in-
dignation at the expected hase insinuation
clouded his hrain, for he advocates our own
sentiments !
Once more. By inadvertence the mention
of the ** poets " was omitted in the last para-
graph of page 225. J. N. C. has uncon-
sciously taken advantage of this omission.
We have now concluded, J. N. C. Go;
let your faith in the "strong minded" be
steadfast and unbounded ; be valiant for your
Jady; study your standard authors in house-
hold education ; attend to Catherine Phillips
while she expounds the " deceitfulness of
pleasure'* — to Amelia Opie, "teaching the
sinfulness of war" — to Mary Chandler,
" proclaiming the blessings of temperance,"
and learn, with Lady Carew, " to enjoy the
duty of forgiveness;" for you must believe
in Mrs. Grant, in Mrs. Tighe, in Mrs. Bar-
banld, in Mrs. Rowe, and in Mrs. Kadclifife,
for these are all orthodox in doctrine, and
are continually "shedding lustre o*er the
intellectual world!" Never bear with the
dim light of genius found in Johnson, or
Paley, or Baxter, or Jenyns, or Watson ; con-
sider Brown, Barrow, Magee, and Combe, to
be mere glowworms, virtually in the dark.
But what a train of tapers has J. N. C.
ranged against these eternal suns! The
" Blind Boy," J. X. J., has proselyted thee; ]
therefore, what folly is it, and labour in vain,
to attempt, by pen and ink, thy rescue into
light and knowledge!
But, seriously. We desire, in conclusion,
only what every one does in closing a ques-
tion, t*. e., an impartially appreciative con-
sideration, not of the forcibly-expressed sen-
timents, but of the grounds and inferences
found in the conflicting papers. Now, one
or more of our friends have demurred on tb<
legitimacy of the train of argument fonnerl;
advanced, condemning the principle as nu-
gatory of appealing to things and effeclt in
their noumeiia for initiation as to their Murce
and efficient causes, as though it were U\j
to examine effects in order to ascertain causes.
But if, indeed, this plan be wrong, why is it
not shown to be such, or superseded by an
improvement? The fact is, our frieods are
at a loss to find some specific principle on
which they may base their assumptiooL
There is, therefore, no other plausible reeoom
remaining to them except that of sifflplf
rejecting any such principle, be it foood
elsewhere. Now that principle, in the fons
of a " test," was previously offered, and, us
natural consequence, rejected: the reasoDi
for rejecting it are jiot mentioned; fur, wiicB
the point of stating them arrived, paitiM
discovered that, unfortunately, they hare vA
left themselves yurMer space ; or if thej^i
apply the said test, it was by contenting thtf»*
selves with the plain state of matters, «^i|
adducing such comparisons and panlleli «
are nowhere discoverable but in thoM wiuch
Flucllen drew between Maodeon and 3lei'
mouth. With this course, however fooG^
they may be consoled by reflecting that it ■»
nevertheless, the best. In a compariiMti
equaUty must be present In detennioiiC
a species, it is not sufficient that two poisii
are alike — the majority must balance. X^
inference we leave non-drawn.
In the discussion of vexnd qnesUcaDS tlitft
is a certain element which fcVX be preM^
Now, if the individuals on whose stateoeitl
we have ventured stricture, perceive dtktf
harshness, or that paltry criticism «U(k
arises from egotism or undue zeal in Uxfoi^
wo heartily apologize, reoDiembering ^
aphorism, Mafftia est Veritas, et pracdi^
•* Farewell, fiuvwell !
• « • • •
For the ilear God wbo loTctti lu.
He made and luvcth all."
SUCOA
Maintain a constant watch at all times against a dogmatic spirit; fix not yoor i
to any proposition in a firm and unalterable manner, till you have some firm and vmlifatt
ground for it, and till you have arrived at some clear and sure evidenoa — till yw bi*
tamed the proposition on all sides, and searched the matter through and thnnigfa, wtlSti
yoa cannot be mistaken.
WERE THB EFFECTS OF THE CRUSABES FAVOURABLE TO CIVILIZATIOS? 373
ISistorif^
WEBE THE EFFECTS OF THE CRUSADES FAVOURABLE TO THE
CIVILIZATION AND BIORAL ELEVATION OF THE PEOPLE ?
AFFIBMATIVB ARTICLE.— II.
CrnuzATiON has not inappropriately
^ likened to the growth of a tree dis-
eipiioed after the full fashion of nature.
Thnm^ long years of sainmer and winter,
eosbioe and tempest, has it come to ma-
turitj ; new seasons have wooed its bads, and
ttOQ dropped them in the chill of death, yet
it his not only emerged complete from the
varmble ioflnences affecting it, the seemingly
to'iiendly as well as the friendly, but com-
p«?teDess has been the resuH of this same
Mfflistore of drcnmstanccs. The shower
Bsd the snnshine were essential to life; bnt
(•^iiiity required the hindrances of winter
tod the rockings of the tempest: without
*^ the oak had never been the pride of
tk spot which gave it birth, nor the f ature
tidvark of a nation.
h this common illustration the observant
Bifid i^cognises bttt the operations of a still |
cosammer law of being. It is the law which
c^biiMs with the main pnrpose preparative
aad sabstdiary schemes: it is the law which
IcQKBS the springs of existence, and again
^3<i9 them for fresh activities; it is the law
vfakh nnites the playground with the school-
men, and makes the one indispensable to
^ other, if the sound body is to be retained
tQ ecajonction with a sound mind : it is the
law irhich folbws exercise by dormancy —
ini^hseas by the goad of trial and adver-
<^tT: it refreshes the weary, scoui^es the
QfiokBt, restrains the morbidly exuberant,
sad £sdpli]ies alike the mind and the body
^ heahhfnl, vigorous action. As in nature,
9M in individaals, so may it be observed in
society at large, the one grand regulating
pnndpkv ^hi^ has retarded but to infuse
f:^ CQcrgics, and chastened but to ennoble
to a needed numliness of character. Out of
tlos protirfon of an alUwise Governor is
«T(iHcd the finui of progrut ; and the philo-
Siiphieal stodent in his survey of history, and
dnviag coDdnaoDS therefrom, will not view
its ereots in forgetfidnefls of this principle.
He will pursue the growth of nations— in
other words, their growth in civilization and
moral elevation — ^not only when learning, as
a fair blossom, rejoices in the sunshine of
royal favour, and the bright examples of the
age are men of genius and virtue, but also
when the checks of occurrences, apparently
untoward, disturb for a time that regularity
of progress so agreeable to the sanguine
spirit. Where superficial observation would
heave a sigh, or, it may be, recoil with
horror, and thank heaven that the mis-
chievous blunders of olden times had no
longer their power, he, equally thankful for
the dawn of better days, will place his hand,
and say, "Here mankind needed tutorage,
and received it; here human frenzies worked
themselves out; here that which had been
termed evil accomplished its purpose as a
means to good." He is unable, perhaps, to
mark the operation : he is only conscious of
its course. The most he is able to do in
many cases is to observe the facts, leaving
the lapse of many years to give the result;
and even these, from a thousand causes, may
baffle recognition; nevertheless, from those
that are certain he has had proof upon proof
of the general law; and now that the skies
have grown dark, the winds high, and the
strainings and creakings of society are por-
tentous to the fearful of calamities at hand,
as certiun is he that the process is subser-
vient to the ultimate improvement of the
subject, as he roust be when, in the world of
nature, analogous indications determine the
maturing of an oak; the process is, however,
in both cases so slow and subtle as to be un-
observable, and, possibly, the results beyond
his means of witnessing.
Now it is upon this principle, the truth of
which we think every one must acknowledge,
that the influences of the Crusades must be
estimated. The facts are awful — so strangely
terrible. Horrors, multiplied and intensified
by the vast namben suljected to them, and
S74
WERK TBR XFFBOra OF THS ORU8ADB8 FAVOURABLB TO THK
that unlimited excess which irresponsibilitj,
as taught bj the chorch, added to the
pecnliar charm of fresh gratifications for the
passions, allured to: — whole nations, no
longer bound bj reason, prudence, the more
powerful ties of affection, and the interests
which had hitherto been of yalne, wandering
forth to destroy, and to be themselves the
victims of destruction: — desolation and
death let loose upon civilization in her only
refuges — sturely must she fall their prey.
Such, indeed, would be the first-view oon*
elusion. If there lived in that age, when
the military idea was the chief, as it was
esteemed the worthiest, one of nobler mould
than his fellows, and whose glory would have
been the true elevation of mankind, how
must his heart have sunk within him, how
his fond anticipations of a comiog deliverance
been quenched, as he beheld events, which
would have dumbfoundered the faith of a
prophet, transform a partly -civilized world
into scenes of barbarity and woe. But future
ages, which he would never see, would show
how unnecessary were his apprehensions.
The eternal law is fiuthful : its operation* is,
indeed, mysterious, and, as a means to good,
difficult to follow. Bloodshed and violence,
and their consequent miseries, are not the
instruments whidi benevolence — ^finite bene-
volence — ^would choose for itself; for it has
not, and, we confess, cannot have, at least by
immediate perception, a conviction of their
applicability. Still is the difficulty not where
it is supposed to be, but in the weakness
which aidvances it. To the all-wise Ruler
of the universe there can be no difficulty —
no inconsistency — in the relation which one
part of his procedure bears towards another.
Far from the view of man, he appoints means,
operations, and effects, in harmonious com-
bination. Let it not, then, be said that it is
not consistent to ax;gue for the Crusades as
a means of benefit to mankind. We do con-
tend that, by the existence of a divine regu-
lation, adapted to the constitution of human
nature, they could not have been otherwise.
Where would have been the oak if it had
nought but the sun to form it? if it had
all to cherish, and nothing to discipline it?
Precocious luxuriance there might have been ;
but not tenacious, enduring, storm-resisting
power. So witli otviliaation and moral eleva-
tion. They are not the children of the softer
influences, tended by indulgence and matured
in unchangeable ease. Like all things else
in the world which are of value, because of
great service, they have sprung and derired
their character from a mixed treatment, and
owe much more to the rigours and adver-
sities of their position, than to its genial bnt
enervating elements. Disappointments, be-
reavements, the retributions of folly and
error, the want which goads to industry, and
that sense of degradation and oppresj^ion
which precedes the determination to be free;
these enter into the very existence of them;
in short, experience schools the world into
the blessings of civilization and moral eleva-
tion; and to talk, therefore, of their being
retarded by those experiences, without which
they never could have existed, ia to speak
that which is simply absurd.
It is, as we have before hinted, a difficnit
and often unsatisfactory task fully to recog>
nise the eflBects of a certain set of events,
because they may be lost in the vast mass
of complexity of which they form a part ; or.
if not wholly lost, so blended with the re»t
that we hesitate to pronounce a can'^e.
Happily, however, in ^o present case, we
are in no dilemma. Ko sooner is the standard
of the cross unfnrled, than effects the most
instantaneous and important are seen to tal-
low. Christendom might hitherto have beer:
divided into two classes — ^the oppressor and
the oppressed. Now, in removing the cne
fh>m his native sphere of domination, aivOi
the other from that of the most degrade i
obedience, the old relation is for ever broker ^
Men, wives, and children, are no lon^r ni
the list of chattels. No blow, surer of belni
fatal to feudalism, could have be«n stmct^
than that dealt by Peter the Hermit. T^nl
his services do not stop here. The tvrann^a)
lords learn better manners towards eaci
other, as well as towards the people at lar^
Their fierce jealousies and rewntmcnts aii
merged into one object of deep intere^t t^
all ; they become courteous and polite, recii
procate the better feelings of their nntnii
and with the bad, which are embodied h\ th
military passion, take the moat natnn
course, as it is by far the wisest in a politici
point of view, of turning them against distazi
nations, rather than their own which 1]
neighbours. The East and the West, w^
have long trampled on the liberties of ma«
kind, now meet, and in kog and Uoody C4<
flict learn the lalntaiy lessen, that war l» il
CIVILIZATION AKD MORAL EIJCVATIOS OF THE FEOF1.B ?
375
ondestrtiTfr. New tastes, new energies,
<R ankened ; and jMiestcnift hAving made
a Butakp, ami thereby shaken tlie general
credeooe in its infallibility, is no lonf^er
potent over tlie minds of the people. With
tbe rmstant migration of armies docs the
oanmercial necesaity arise. E%'ery voya:;e is
a Toyasje of discovery : every niarcb adds to
the fetock of freah information. The acqni-
vim of new knowled<*c stimalntes to inquiry
into the old, and thus arc intcllijrence and
eommerre, the basis of a civilized commnnity,
tikini; the place of ignorance and semi-
lorWitv. These events, the most important
rfect^ of the Crusades, will not l>e denied :
tbej are matters of fact too intelligible on
tbe paj;e of hiatory to be qnestiooed. It
nay be attempted to counterbalance the
Unnnjs they became to the world by a
1*17 set-off of temporary evils; but, if we
Ittr in mind that these were the instruments
Vr which elevation and advancement were
•Wired — that out cf thorn sprune;, by the
most natural process, the social and po^
litical benefits we have been considering—
we cannot commit ourselves to the incim-
sifttent supposition that they also formed an
obstacle.
Knrope, especially Britain, owes mnoh to
the Cnisade«i. Our forefathers erred, sinned,
and were chastened for ns : they " sowed the
wind and reaped the whirlwind** — learned
wisdom from adversity, and couni^e from
dancer, for our advantage. Bnt we liavi- not
snlliciently profited from the teachings of
this gTi'at moral cyclopnxlia. Society is now
pasHiug through a discipline which will leuvo
it all the better. Let us look willingly and
hopefully at our entire series of expericocos ;
thus,
" Wliftte'er wc •«•,
"W'h.itrVr we ferl, by agencv direct
• Or ii)(lire(*t. !(]i:ill tend to ko*l un<] nurse
Our faculties— jilinll fix in calmer Meatd
or moral .strentrth, and ntise to lonier li<.M;fhts
Ofluve ilivine, our intellkctual soul."
B. W. P.
XEGATHTJ ARTICLE.— II.
"TiiE present age" is a favourable theme
^tii pr^palar writers and speakers, and its
^^vioiu pliai'es are certainly worthy of careful
^lun^htand close discrimination. "A thou-
•uciaiul one" voices assure us that it is an
a;;e of progress, and this we will not dispute,
altboo^ we have a strong suspicion that
*Bcli vhich is tuk(-n for progret^s is mere
■«ia — movement in a circle — a constant
^^v^ without any real advance. It has
^ thus, we conceive, with the favourable
^Uhq of the Crnsades which is now so
P*pnlar. though many persons regard it as a
Fwfof intellectual progress and the auc;-
"*it«d ftren^th of independent judgment.
^ tJie pleaiiing delusion vanii^hes when the
%htof history is cast upon it, and we tind
w tbe ume opinion generally prevailed in
^ tereuteeDtb century, became un{>opular
^ tbe eighteenth, and revived in the nine-
^■nth: so that which has been held as a
poAutt of the present is bnt a figment of
tkpasL
fiat a trace to preliminaries, and now to
At UDmediate snbject of our inquiry — the
Cniiadet, or the religious wars for the rc-
Borciy of tbe poncinon of the Holy Land,
tod their effects upon civilization.
At the ooaet oar thoughts naturally tnm
: to the origin of the Cnisades; and it is im-
portant that we should have clear and tnith-
I iul ideas rc-pecting that. C. W., Jun.,
with an attt'inpt at generalization and phi-
' losophic research ho common in these days.
I asserts that the Crusados arose " from a
' general effort on the part of the human
mind to get into action," and that tlieir
mission was " the emancipation of th^
I human mind." These sentences arc lii,L'h-
flounding, but are they truth-telling? We
; think not. The Crns-ades originated in the
, superstitions of the dark ages, and more
' particularly in the delusive bidief of the sin-
atoning efficacy of a visit to
' " Thr holy fi..l.ls,
. Over wlio5(; acn's walk«7<l these bleKted li'ft.
' W'hicli, ei«htwri humlrt-J ycnra a>r«». were uallcJ,
I For our advoutaf^e, on the biltt-r cru.ss."
I To such a degree was the superstitious
rngnrd for tli** Inntl of Palestine carried, while
' the triithft there promulgated were forgotten,
j that its very du>«t was adored, and brougiit
, to Kurope as a charm against demons! To
' prove that miracles hail not ceased in his
time, St. Auguhtine tells a tale about the
cure of a certain young man, who had some
of the dust of the holy city suspended in a
bag over his bed! If the Imrdships attco-
S76
weue thb effects of the crusades favouradle to the
dant npon visiting Palestine, and the difficnltj
of obtaining more dust were the immediate
CAOses of the Crnsades, we fancy they pre-
sent no indications of an effort, on the part
of the human mind, " to rid itself of the
vianj fetters which had impeded its develop-
ment." Wc should like C. W^ Jan., to inform
US by what system of mental alchemy he has
obtiuned the gold from these materials !
Such, then, was the origin of the Cnisades ;
such the soarce of that wild and furions
stream, whose poisonons waters spread bar-
renness on its basks, and prevented the
lowly verdore or the towering tree flonrish-
iog within its inflaonce.
Again, how unworthy the motives appealed
to, to induce men to engage in these conflicts!
The forgiveness of sin was promisied to all,
and a passport to heaven to such as might
die on the battle-field. The promised result
was valuable; the terms were easy, and
thorefore eagerly seized upon. " The moral
fabric of Europe was convulsed ; the relations
and charities of life were broken; society
appeared to be dissolved. The storm of
public feeling was raised, and neither reason
nor authority could guide its course. The
prohibition of women from undertaking the
journey was passed over in contemptuous
silence. They separated themselves from
their hnsbands where men wanted fuith, or
resolved to follow tliem with their helpless
infants. Monks, not waiting for the per-
mission of their superiors, threw aside their
black mourning gowns, and issued from
their cloisters full of the spirit of holy war-
riors. A stamp of virtue was fixed npon
every one who embraced the cause; and
many were urged to the semblance of religion
by shame, reproach, and fashion.
They who had been visited by criminal jus-
tice were permitted to expiate in the service
of God their sins against the world. The
pretence of debtors was admitted, that the
calls of heaven were of greater obligation
than any claims of man. Murderers, adul-
terers, robbers, and pirates, quitted their
iniquitous pursuits, and declared that they
would wash away their sins in the blood of
the infidels. In short, thousands and mil*
lions of armed saints and sinners ranged
themselves to fight the battles of the Lord.
Allnatioru were enceff*ped in the whirlwind
ofmpergtition.'* Such is the historic picture
vl the men who prepared to do battle for " the
Prince of peace!** War, when employed in
the holiest cause of self-defence, and ctiried
on by disciplined troops, is ever cold sod
cruel; but, when instigated by revere or
aggression, and committed to the hands of s
rude and savage rabble, it will perpetrate tbe
blackest crimes against God and man. with
unblushed impudence and nnrdeotioK bcvt.
It was thus with the Crusaders. Oar tine
would fail to tell their cruel deeds, and oor
space prove insufficient to chronicle tbtff
wi Id excesses. Our readers, too, would sickn
as they
" Looked to we
The blind aiid bloody soldier, witli fotil hand.
Defile Uii> lockii or the shrill-shru-kiiif^dau^wn;
The fathers taken by the silver bnardji.
And their ino«t reverent heads daHh'd to the wslb:
The nake«i infuntM spitted upon pikes :
Wiles tlie mad motliera, with their howls con/ku'd,
Did break the clouds."
All these scenes the Crusades presented;
and hell, we think, must have looked on «itb
savage delight to observe that men with tki
tivinbol of the cross upon their shooUflS
could perpetrate, in the name of nWpSit
deeds as foul as would have been done bid
the infernal gates opeued to let forth vpA
earth a host of incarnate demons! ^
accordini? to Guizot, " the Crwtade$ wfM
a Christian Europe !** Darkness, in fotiiRi
may pass for light, and truth fi>r ernv, *
we must adjudge the author of this wateMt
as ignorant of the true character of the Cit-
sades as of Christianity itself.
The question now comes. Were the eflMi
of the Crusades —thus conceived in error, Al-
tered by superstition, and carried out by criM
— favourable to the civilisation and taonl
elevation of the people? C. W., Jus^ •*
many others, reply in the afKrmative, altboi^
we were inclined to answer, a priori^ is ni
negative, and subsequent research sbowii *i
think, the truthfulness of such an ofud*'
We have carefully examined oor friesfi
long string of authorities, in expectatioi ^
discovering s(Hne cwclusiTe argumcoti ii
favour of the position that he has lata;
but in this we have utterly failed. The M
of writers quoted certainly presents s ^
midable front; but an array of name* wl
opiniMis will not strike awe in a thoaf!htftl
mind, for he will regard mere antkoritf ii
matters of belief as possessed of very litth
conriucing power.
The '^holy" ezconloQS are Mid to fasvi
CXnUZATIOV iUTD MOBAL BLEVATIOH OP TBB PBOPLE ?
877
itd ft Teiy bcocfidal effect apon the minds
of tJie oaen who en|(aged in them, as they
videned the range cif thdr obeenration, and
opoed ap fresh aooroes of knowledge. But,
nmembering the drcunataneea under which
the cnuaders went forth, the nature of the
aeeoes which they witnened, and knowing
tint it is only a ^ bnite, unconscioos gaze"
iiat ignoiBDoe casts around it, we are not
pRpsred to admit that any mental eleva-
tioa proceeded from these exploits of moral
depnritj. K it had been otherwise, and
tile nnods of the multitude had received the
fail benefit of fordgn travel in oriental lands,
hw few of them would have returned to
opart the improvement to others ! It is
m nsdisputed matter of history, that the
cnsea of upwards of three millions of Euro-
peans either fell in the battle-field, or their
boces were left bleaching on the desert's
nnds. Yet it is still urged that those who
£i reiom brought with them most precious
pndocts. To this wo would reply, in the
inmb of another, " If it be still insisted that
s^e benefits in domestic, civil, or scientific
^aovkdge were necessarily communicated
to Kon^e, either by the expeditions them-
telvei, or, at least, owing to our long abode
k tbe East, I ask what those benefits were?
£r how it happens that the literary and in-
tflkctnal aspect of Europe exhibited no
ttrikifig changes till other causes, wholly
p^^^xnxcted with the Crusades, were brought
i^o action? I believe, then, that these ex-
p^iQQs were utterly tterife with retpeet to
iie art$f to Uammg, wid to every moral ad-
It is urged that the condition of the people
*« improved, and civil liberty promoted, by
tiie Crusades. Much treasure, and blood
nyjR Tafaiable, were wasted; but this afiected
AvI dsases of the community alike: the
pis£c and the peasant might move, but they
H«»erred their relative distances. *' The
jBiftl authority for a crusade acted as an
vt <if temporary enfranchisement of every
^liptioB oi slaves; but sucA of them at
relm-med from the holy wart returned^ of
' '>vr$tL, their old occupationt ; contequentfy,
^'itrope pained nothing hy the matter J'
But it is said that, ** by means of these
.--ir.*. enterprises, the European nations be-
cti&e more connected with each other," and
* '^ Utetwy Bistory of the Hiddk AgM."
** a moral unity amongst the nations broke
forth." Where is the proof of the correct-
ness of these assertions, and to which page
of European history will our friends turn for
illustration? We wait to learn.
It will be asked with confidence, did not a
great advance in civilization follow the Cru-
sades ? Not immediately, and not as a matter
of consequence. It was not till the fifteenth*-
and sixteenth centuries that any great move-^
ment took place, and this period embraces
the following thought-awakening events : —
1st. The revival of classical learning, includ-
ing the diffusion of a knowledge of the lan-
guage and spirit of ancient authors. 2ndly.
The invention of printing; before which it
might be truly said of the people,
" That knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll.*'
3rdly. The discovery of a passage to the
East Indies by the Cape of G<Md Hope, which
so deeply interested the public mind. 4thly.
The discovery of America, which opened up
a new world of unknown richness and extent
to European enterprise. Sthly. The rise and
progress of the Kcfonnation, by which the
whole surface of civilized society was moved,
and tlio mind of every thoughtful man was
agitated. The sharp disputings of the ad-
herents of the rival systems developed the
moral and mental faculties of mind. At
length the Catholics, finding reason fail
them, resorted to arms, and then began that
fierce and protracted struggle, which termi-
nated in the establishment of the freedom of
thought in every Protestant land. It is, we-
oonceive, to these events, and events like
these, that the progress of modem Europe is-
to be traced, rather than to the excesses of
the crusaders.
But our space is well nigh spent, snd we
cannot do better than cite, in conclusion, the
testimony of Mill, who says, " The spirit of
crusading, composed as it was of superstition
and military ardour, was hostile to the ad-
vancement of knowledge and liberty, and,
consequently, no improvement in the civil
condition of the kingdoms of the West would
have been the legitimate issue of the prin-
ciples of the holy wars. • ♦ • The
Crusades retarded the march of civilization,
thickened the clouds of ignorance and super-
stition, and encouraged intolerance, cruelty,
and fierceness. Religion lost its mildness
2o
378
OUGRT MATIVB PBODUCE AKD IHDU8TRT TO BE PBOTECnD
and charitj, and war iU mitigating qnalities
of honour and courtesy. Such were the bitter j
fruits of the holj wars! Painful is a retro-
spect of the consequences, but intcrestinj;
are the historical details of the heroic and
fanatical achievements of our ancetitors.
• • • Nature recoils with horror from
their cruelties, and with shame from their
habitual follj and senselessness. Comparing
the object with the cost, the gain proposed
with the certain peril, we call tiw attempt tlM
extremest idea of naadneia, and wonder that
the western world should iar two hundred
years pour forth its blood and trBssare ia
chase of a phantom. * * * We feel no
sorrow at the final doom of the Cnuades,
because in its origin the war was iniqnitoni
and unjust"* J. M. S.
* MUl'i ** Uutorjr of the Cnuadet."
OUGHT NATIVE PKODUCE AND INDUSTRY TO BE PKOTECTED BY
LEGISLATIVE EXAC TMEXTS ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
" It were to be wished that comnieroe were as !
trte iH.tween uH the iiulioiis in tlie world as be-
twetn the severul comities of England. So would I
all, by mutual communicariun, obtain more en- |
joynuiit. Thote counties do not ruin rack other ■
by trade ; neither vould the nations. Xo nation I
frti.« erer mined by trade^even seevtingly the most i
dUadv4intayeous. —Dk. Fhanklin.
The words we have just quoted were
written bj a pliilosoplior, and nut by a pro-
fessed political economist : tbey nre, however,
alike worthy of either, for they embody at
once a wise precept, and fumibh a most apt
illustration of its truthfulness. We should
wish to treat the subject in the t=ame philo-
sophic light as Franklin did, viewing it upon
its broadest ba^is, and illustrating it by the
most fiimple truths and examples which it
may be in our power to produce.
We i>ay, with Franklin, it is to be wished
that commerce was as free between the
nations of the world as between the counties
of England. We shall endeavour to i^how
why it should b*- so, and the evil consequences
which have resulted, and which are resulting,
from the existence of an opposite state of
things.
" There are," says Porter, in his " Progress
of the Nation," '*but few coimtries so cir-
cumstanced, with regard to thdr natural
capabilities of soil and climate, as to be in-
dependent of all other countries for the supply
(^ many of those productions which have
become necessary to their comfort, (/*, indtetlj
tke;y be not indUjtensabfe i-equisUts to die
wtU-he.lng of their inkabifantt" Tbis ii
the highest modern English antboritf
we can produce. We may also quote tk
next sentence, as it may be useful to *
during the debate . — " England ii*, aumrt^
futi one of th'tse countries, (md foreign «••
tnerce is to its inhabitants a thing ofsocSA,
if not of physical, necessi^g," We turn, »flt^
to tlie greatest French authority, H-Stft
and we tind him declaring tl)at " a goren-
ment which absolutely prohibits the i^
portation of certain foreign goods ejla6Ubtf
a mon<>]x>tjf in faco^ir of thttse ichtt proAiU
siu'h vtymmodities at home AOAINST tlMi*
who consume them; in other words, those tf
Iiomc who produce them, having thcesdB-
hive privilege uf selling them, may devitt
their price above the natural price; asdtki
consumers at home, not being able to obtiift
them elsewhere, are obliged to purchase ik^
at a higher price." Further, we fiid i^
asserted by Adam Smith, that " Taxes J*"
poscfl with a view to prevent, or ewn t»
diminish, importation, are evidently <u ^
struct he of the revenue of the customs tUV
thcfreeth/m of trade" We have, thcnte^
sotne tangible ground upon which to n^
into the inquiiy.
Now, as scarcely any country cantaisi •
itself all the natural prodnciiona for tki
physical necessities and cnjoymenti of iti
inhabitants, it may be fairly pratamed tW
it was part of the design of Pixyridcoce thift
commercial relations should spoi^ up bet
BT I.F.GIBLATIVE KNArTMKNTS ? 379
■^ ,1 _ _| |__M I I I
Dn|;hboarin<: and distant nations, for the i tiieir commercial transactions crippled hy
parjwi'ftf supplying the diffi'rrnt wants of the restrictions imposed; and. next, by the
wh. Anj <4her hypothesis would im]ilj I cAnsumcr havins: to par an artificial instead
tbt minikind were not intetuhd to ;*<«»«■** of the real valac of the commodity he re-
tktfii-lwinnt of jih^fiical nijitymtHt^ which i quires.
ii w CDUtrary to the evidence of our own . Then there comes the plea that the tYrff^vc
Sflis?*. as scarcely, we presume, to pain a | ** must be raised." < >f course it mnst, and
momfct's cn-deiice. Any 1e;;iMlative enact- a larpe proportion of it out of trade and
n«t, then'forc, liavinj^ a tendency to restrict ' manufactures. But is there only ontr way of
tflii iny interchange of commotlities, must j raising a revenue, and is that way neces-
U ilirrttiv at variance with the beneficent sarilv detrimental to that class who con-
uttipi uf Providence, which was, no donbt, | tribute most lar:;ely to it? Is a man a
wdered as a nicins of promotinj: unity an«l jraincr in any form who escapes a dirtct
«o^>^^, by tallowing to eaih nation how I im))0.st, amount in;:, Pay, to thirty per cent.
occh it was dependent upon others for tlio ^ ujion liis income, but pays several iwlhvct
iitantupes it enjoyed. Tlie love of war, '• ones, amounting together, at the leasts
•ad other depraved passions of the human } to fifty per cent.? This is what actually
iwn. have, liowever, set nations so mncli at ; occurs to every one in a country where tho
vwiame with each other, that in many cases I revenue is raised upon importations of foreign
tliUilftsjfrn has l)een entirely lost si^ht of; j commo<li ties: or, in other wonls, whore native
vliilc in other cases the debts entailed in the industry is protected by lejjislative cnact-
pMs'^cntion of such wars and di»a«:rcemont8 j nients. We ci>ntend, in the face of every
btTf been so great as to render it almost ' nrgunient wo hdve yet seen adilnced to tho
incumbent upun Mich nations to crcHlc a ; contrary, that the inhnbitants of a country
Bwn'vjjoly of some sort in favour of them- coinmercinlly free in every sense of the word
*lte», in order to meettheirgrent liabilities. ; would be better able, ii.s a hotly, to |»ay any
Iflfither case a wfjug is committed. I reasonable amount of taxation than they
A;»iint — Tho prohibitive restriction of possibly can under a restrictive system, how-
Wj'-Wrr/iom create a monopoly in favour of ! •»vcr devised, and that, in such ca«e, tho
*i« pro-Jncer, and hence against the con- ■ burden of the reveiiu-^ would fall more cquit-
■n«r. This truth is obvious. Take an ! ably and justly.
<Uaple in point. France is a warmer ■ After tln-se general obsirv.itions let ua
couitrv than Kngbmd, and can ]>roduco a look at the matter still more in detail.
pttter quantity of ^ilk in the raw state than I rnre."«trieted connnerce has a tendency to
Eciilanl. and at a cheai»er rate; Eni^lantl, j pn^mote nianulactures, and cover the earth
tw\-^fl", has a more inexhaustible supply of . with industry. lIe.<tri«'.tions in whatever
frw llan France, and has greater facilitii'S J form they apjvar, dond'-n the commercial
fc»flhki«:j it up by reason of its sujiply of , spirit, and confine tnulc to particular spots.
^■l*^!!! steam power. IJut Kngland think.-* This is not a principle of otir own suggest-
l^i^i+r to restrict tlie importation of silk from I ing; it is a truth which ha«! !»een recognised
fnsce I'V imposin;r a Jieavy duty : the c<'n- ' well ni.irh as far back as lCngli!*h history
M^'^ce is, that just to tlic amount of the | carries ns. In Magna C'liartn there was in-
^* im].o<ed is the English hilk pn»rlucer . sorted a clan-" to the effect "that all mer-
i**^<i'Wat /A<? exjifinfe. of the Knyfuth ctm- \ chants shuuld hat'c safe and sure conduct to
•»*r,' bocanse, lia<I there been no duty, the come into Kngland and to depart from it, and
'ODfniner would have had hi.^ silk at the ' to buy and sell without the obstruction of
^rtflch cost of prodnction, and not at the evil tolls." Several acts of parliament were
Palter English cost. In the same way, if also st-.b^equently passeil contirming this pri-
i*'nor» impMed a duly iqion the imfK>rtation vileue: and we havi* the authority of Lord
rf £a;-li»h iron (we believe she has not yet ' Coke (referring to the claufic in the charter
btn ftxJifh enough to do hi), would the ,' and the acts of ]iarliament following it),
forehasers of iron in France have to jmy it.s : •* That all monojmlies concerning trade and
tfrT'jfrrfff instead of its acfwi/ value, ».'■.. the I traffic are atjninM tht Uherty nvtl frcvihym
CM of producing and Hhip]'ing it. IJoth f/rnnfrd hif th*" ffraif rhnrtf-r, and divers*
conctnei!, tberelure, saffer; first, by having I other acts of parliament which are good com-
380
OUGHT NATIVE PRODUCE AND INDUSTRY TO BK PROTECTED
mcntaries upon tbat charter." It would
Inve been well for England, and, indeed, far
the whole world, bad the rights of the people,
and the tme spirit of the British constitu-
tion, been as carefully watched and defended
at subsequent periods as at the obtainment of
the charter. But when British princes begun
to think more of foreign conquests than of
the prosperity of their subjects at home, and
when, in order to meet the great expenses
iacuned by their foreign defeats and con-
qfoests, extraordinary grants were required
to be raised, it was then that constitutional
lights were lost sight of, and commerce be-
fettered with every description of im-
human ingenuity could devlKC. This
the primary step; but the evil did not
TOt here. As the wants of kings became
jBure ur|;ent they had recourse to the mer-
chants for loans, and these merchants were
too often instrumental in causing restrictions
to be imposed upon the importations from
Ibreign countries, in order to promote the
mle of their own commodities, at a higher
mte of profit, at home. This is an historical
tmth ; and by it we learn how false principles
and practices usurp true and just ones, and
ID process of time become defended and jus-
tified.
Again, protected manufactures have almost
always been found in a languishing state.
The woollen, the cotton, and the silk manu-
factures in England all afford striking exam-
j^es of this truth. The woollen trade, per-
luips, affords us the best example, on account
of the almost unheard-of extent to which
the attempts to protect it were carried. In
the year 1678, an act was passed for the
CBoeuragement of the English woollen manu-
£ictnre, in which it was ordered that all
dead bodies should be wrapped in woollen
ohiouds! and, but a little later, finding that
the woollen manufacture was making some
progress in Ireland, the English manufac-
toreis petitioned the king (William III.)
•■d his parliament to interfere for its sup-
pRBSton in that country. Nor was their
•oppfication unheeded; for in the king's
answer to their address, ho made the follow-
ing promise: — ^**I shall do all that in me
lies to discourage the woollen manufacture
in Ireland, and encourage the linen manu-
fittture, and to jH'omote the trade of Eng-
land;" and an act very soon did pass to
that purport. Here, then, was legislative pro-
tection with a vengeance. But what came of
it? The woollen manufacture remained pro-
tected until 1825. In the five years, from
1820 to 1824, our exportation of woollen
goods amounted to 1,064,441 pieces. Intht
five years, from 1840 to 1844, it reached
2,128,212 pieces, or just double the quantity
exported during the last five years of pro-
hibition; and this, too, in the face of a
rapidly increasing trade in cotton 1 What
will our Protectionist friends say to these
figures? But why need we even go so far
back as the history of the woollen trade for
an example? We have a still more poweifoi
illustration in the case of agriculture. Up
to within the last few years British agri-
culture was protected by an impart duty
upon foreign com. And what was the con-
sequence? Just what we might expect.
Prices were high, and the kss com their
ivaa produced the higlier the prices roie.
This was virtually a premium for bad farm-
ing, and 60 it operated. Kowhere were the
resources of the land properly or ftiUj
developed. Want of skill and energy was
everywhere prevalent among agriculturists,
until their supineness became proverbial;
and what the upshot of another centuiv's
persistence in such a course, none can de^
scribe and but few imagine, except those who
so nobly came forward, and, amidst the
"mingled jeers and laughter" of the/<^',
averted the impending evil, and laid the
foundation of peace and plenty for the rna^i^
** Mind is mightier than tbe strong*
Bight hoth triumphed over wrong.**
We know that the question of free trade
in com is a sore one in many qxiarters. We
do not wish to wield the last too heavily.
Landlords complain loudly of the wron<^
they have suffered. Their rent-roll has U>
come reduced, and the^ue of the fee simple
of the land has been lessened. This is
undoubtedly tiue. As ever, so now, " after
the crisis comes the crash." Land and its
produce had been raised to an artificial valne.
and that, too, at the expense of tbe necessities
of the people : thus the people had sufler^
at the bands of the landowners. Bat retri-
butive justice came, and many of the mighty
were put down, while the humble have hf^n
exalted. Well might poor Hood exclaim, ii>
days gone by —
"O (lod ! that bi-ead ufaould be so dear.
And flesh and blood so cheap ! "
BT LBGISLATIVE ENACTMKSTS?
381
hoog ago did thftt most trnthfol of poeU,
Oiirer GoUsmiib, tell ns —
" lU turn the knd, to hasteninfr woes • prejt
Wbcre wealth accumulates, and men decay."
But m the aH-abaorbing scramble for wealth,
tlie cries of hnmanitj were long overlooked.
We are prejMued to show that the tendency
»f ]>roCecfek»n is to destroy external trade ;
a!io to uphold the advantages of all com-
aodilies being rendered as cheap as is con-
astent with tbor oost of production, without
tiicir being encnmbered with taxation; and
fioallj to «i*t«»»in that yVee importation is
tiu aoorce of plenty, and protection the fore-
nmoer of scarcitj; but space reminds us
tittt it, too, must not be over-taxed, and we
therefore hasten to a oondnsion.
We cMmot but rejoice in the fact of a
itcadj deteiminatioa having set in, to rid
«n!unerD8 of its fetters, and leave it open to
tbe obIj legitimate protection we have learnt
V) reoognise, namejj, the protection of its
vm imtriiuic superiority and toorth. If !
British maaniactares are more durable, and
not necessarily more coetly, than those of
odier ommtries, they will, of course, take
ffc-eminence. If British commerce gene-
fiHj be more advantageous and accessible
than that of other countries, then it also will
ktiU maintain the superiority. But if it be
otherwise, then let the country which exo^
Britain in these particulars derive the ad-
vantage of her excellence. The world must
gain by every vnprovement in produeiiout or
increased /acility in exchange; but it is
neither debirable nor just that any natxans
or people should, by any possible meana,
usurp the laurels or the bounty, to which ia
the *' great race of nations " now going on,
they do not show themselves to be honear-
ably entitled to receive.
Glancing at the alterations which have,
within the last few years, taken place in the
tariff of the several countries of continental
Europe, we perceive most assuredly a ** move
In the right direction." To this we msj
refpr more particularly in another paper.
Looking at the opinions recently exprcased
in high quarters in England, we feel assnved
that the tide of free trade has set in, and
that before it every legislative restriction to
commerce must be entirely and for ever
abolished. This is not an age for retva-
gression.
Looking at the question in its broadeafc
aspect, we are prepared to maintain that
native industry ougfU not to be, and need not
bCy proitcted by legislative enactment; and
this opinion we shall hold, until proof he
adduced to the contrary. C. W., Jud.
AFFIRMATIVE AIITICLE.— I.
It forms a curious yet interesting task to
cunpare Britain^ as now presented to our
riew, with its position and capabilities in
E<»e-bj a/iea. It has evidently been ordained
W God tliat civilization can only be gradually
<^Q«cd from barbarity; and while we see
^^^Be nations high in intellectuaL progress
*^ noral greatness, others are sunk in igno-
rance, and debased by vice. But, strange to
uy, we have instances of the glory of the
^ departing, while the shame of the latter
^ been taken away. Need we cite the case
•f Palcstme, which was once the delight of
the Liod, and which, from the influence of
His favour, attained the loftiest eminence in
rdigioos privileges and moral greatness?
But, when basking under the influence of the
Aniles of heaven, a sad and desolating blight
«2inc orer the whole land, and now *' its
bfily cities are a wilderness, Zion is a wilder-
fiAs, Jerusalem is a desolation," &c. Speak
«e «£ Bome, ** the mistress of the world," and
tell of her conquests and universal rule?
Then we must dwell on her decay, and finish
with her fall. Or, if to Greece we turn oor
retrospective glance — to Greece, " mother of
arts and eloquence," the land of philosophers
and the home of sages— we involuntarily recur
to her present aspect, and sigh over the sad
change which has come over her, feeling
'* 'Tis Greece— but living Greece no more !
So coldlf sweet, eo deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wauling there ! "
Without staying to inquire into the causes
that sapped the foundations of these great
empires, let us see in what state our own land
mu^t then have been. From what we can
gather from the historian, Britain must havo
been barren and unfruitful in the extreme.
It occupied its place as a dark spot on the
face of the deep. Again, as we look down tho
long vista of time, we behold mighty changes
passing over its surface, which cannot be
better described than in the language of the
388 OUGHT NATIVE PRODUCK ASD IZTDUffTRT TO BE PROTECTED?
inspired penman, when he speaks of the the nnprincipled fellow^ooontryman. Yies,
wilderness and the solitary place being glad, ! to preserve native indu&trj, to keep it in a
and the desert blossoming as the rose. The healthj and energetic state, l^:iftlative en'
character of Britain has indeed changed ; ' actmeuts most be made. These have tLt*
barrenness has yielded to verdure, and weak- happy influences of preventing the forei^riKr
ncs8 been supplanted by strength. ' from culling our inventive ideas, aiid of
The question then comes, What is the ' making self-dependence How in its own proper
cause of this prosperity? And we conceive j channel; for self-dependence will keep uce
that the answer will lead ns to adopt the countryman from living on another'b toil
affinnativeviewof this qnei>tion. We depend , For this puq)08e — to take a case in prjnt—
much upon agriculture for our prosperity, we believe patents were tirst instituted; and
but it is evident that if this had been the , these have at lea»t the tendency, if not tliO
only foundation for our greatness we should direct power, of giving to each man bid linr.
have been very different to what we now are. j When a man invents a machine, it is his
The principal canse of our present proud undoubted right to claim the pttitwtion cf
portion was the industry and inquiring ^pirit' | his government; and were this ni;t the case,
of the people. After the treasures of the : that happy dependence referred to, which
mineral world had been discovered, intellect , man places upon his own energy and ^kill,
began that noble course which, in its upward would be sailiy weakened; rights would ^
range, has brought ns where we now arc. ; viohiteil, and injut^tice comniitteti.
It is a remarkable fact, that when our land Here, then, we have a form of protection,
was found of a peculiar internnl construction, ; the propriety of which even our opp».ncEt»
embodying a wonderful combination of the ' will admit; and we maintain that the prin-
most useful mineralrf, then the fM>ople became . ciple involved in it may be advantsgeoasly
famed for their untiring toil; the mind was . applied to other case;*. We do not adrocste
called into operation ; practice Btyon gave , the abstract principle of protection as of
birth to theories; and, after a Hories o( care- . universal applicability ; but we mainl»i»»
fal experiments, mighty results were realized, that it may be pmpcrly and beneficially
Invention had onlv to lift her wand and
mutter her incantations, and a thousand
varied forms and Strang*" combinations sprung
into existence. The invention of the steam-
engine marks an era in the proj;rej?s of
Britain, and as its immense power wa.-t fur-
applied, at certain stages, in a natioo'd {ffO-
gress, and especially towards certain cnift»
and classes in a community. Even Atlam
Smith, who lays down as the firat principle
of the wealth of nations that, '* as far as nicw
wealth is concerneil, the fewer restriction*
thcr developed, its mnltitrnn applicability i on industry the better," adndts that there v*
became manifest. And now, behold the i two cases in which it may be odvaotaceoni
result! Where is there a nation that presents I to lay some burden upon foreign, fur tltf
auch a scene as ours? — a scene whci-e mo- i benetit of domestic^ indtutry. The fir**-
chanical forces and appliances, in their most ■ " if^hni *ome particular tort of tMlHttiy
striking forms, are dis])!ayed — a scene in i» neerMfirt/for the de/tuce n/ iki^ cuuntrj'
which manufacture takes a sovereign place, I The second, " irhen fume tax w imp^
in which trades are c^irried on with such at home w/x»» the prttduce of thmestic '*■
perfect system. Upon these things, as well I duMry.'*
as ujion natural produce, not only our great- I It has been well said by the es-prenu^
ness, but our very existence as a people de- ! (Lord John Uussell): — ** Were there noiWO
pends; and therefore they ought to Ik; pro- ! thing as war, no sach tiling as cominefV'^
tected — protected by such me.ms as will : disputes, no such thing as a national dew?
prove most eiHcient ; and these must neees- | it might be easy for the ministers of didiinvut
sarily be legislative enactments. This is a eonmiunities to come to an nndentasdinS
^rreat and important quention, and as such j upon a ]dan of general freedom, and refnol*^
deserves onr close attention. Were the , the world acc<mling to the rulea of onivefiv
glorious fruits of our industry exposed to the | liberty. Itnt the existing fiict is, that €s^
gaze of the world without a legislative fence nati(>n is obliged to guard ita iDdcpeDdeoc*
encircling them, we shouhl soon be robbe<I with the utmost jealousy; to avoid with tv
by the ORhaUowed grasp of the i^tranger, or = greatest caro putting itself under the cofiti"
n TOB oonnsanosTAii lai habmostt with xstellkctual frbedom ? 383
r aBjotbcr pomr; And to check its indiiatry
7 tuw, which mn absolatelT necessarj fur
Im pracTTBtioa of its Bcparate existence.
..... It is not onlj internal bat external
ntutian, also, that most be c(Misalted in
unnein^ ecooomlcal laws for a nation. In '
dedding erory qaestion that comes before ;
him, i legislator ought to omsider that he '
bM to proridey not for the execution of a ;
Fnjcct of perpetual peace, but for the wel- '
^ and prosperity of his own country. I
Without going the length of a Venetian prt^
verb, ' Pria Veneziani, poi Christiaui/ I am
dis|K)6ed to say, * Let wfir$t be Engllikmcti,
then ecffftotnistt,^ "
CkHisidering these thinpcs, and, above all,
the fact that under a faulty system of pro-
tection Britain has become *' great, glorious,
and free,** we give, with confidence, an
affirmative reply to the queotion now under
debate.
A.
larial €ninoiiii|*
IS THE CONFESSIONAL IN HARMONY WITH INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL
FREEDOM OR SOCIAL WELL-BEING ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
The nstare of the confessional is a point
• which many are grievoujJy if^norant,
i^?h it is so impo«1ant. If auricuKir
*>fciBi« be enjoined by God a* nertr*mrj to
•"frafiw, how many there are who, by de-
^yiaS it, forfeit his mercy; bnt, if it be not,
*W must be thought of a church which set6
^■Kk a doctrine in defiance of his holy
^**liDd in direct breach of his command
M to tdd to or diminiAb** from it ? When,
^ «e ewuider the training of a priest for
^ cnfcssiooal, we w<Mider not when even
^Lifpiori cries, *' Oh ! how many confeftKors
"^ kit their own souls and those of their
Mnts!"
Of^Aristides*" article we say nothing ; hi.s
*|jSnKata are clear, and, to an impartial
^VjOOBvincing; but we purpose examining
[••■trf** Confeawirins," not in party feelinir,
|*t with an unbiassed mind, whose only
^ is to elicit troth.
^'CoifisMrius,'' then, commences with this
JJSWaort: — ^"Xo instituticm winctioncd by
^ en be opposed to the tnie wolfure of
^'*n>'* Auricular confession is an inHtitn>
^aictioiied by God; therefore, auricular
"'■rfbrion is not opposed to the true welfare
' Asn. Now, the major premise we re-
"^Kitiaily admit, bnt the minor we uncqui-
'^ttDf deny. We may at once grsnt that
^Jawm of um has that sanction which
^fin^two texts adduced affirm; but, hsp-
"^t ^^ hKf^ DOthiDK to do with the pt>int
at isBue. No word about tttcrtt con/tsnom
to tht prifft is here used. The people con-
jWnfd their sins to (!od in public^ not to the
/)rieift in private. These two piuwages, then,
prove nothing for " Confci^sarius.*' His whole
ariruiiient hinges on the word "confess," the
Ci^rrcct meanin<; of which he will find by
comparing Numb. v. 6; Lev. v. 65 ; xxvi,
40, '* If they (the Israelites) shall CfmJ>M
tkeiv iniquity . . . tl)en will 1 remember
mjf <H)r«rHnut" Josh. vii. 19, where Joshua
exhorts Achan to give " glory to God, and
make conftMicm unto him.'* 1 Kings viii.
33, 35, 47 ; Nehem. ix. 2, ** And the seed of
Inrael . . . stijotl and ronj) Atfd their sins'"
I'rja. xxxii. 1 — 5, " I will tsmftss my trans-
ffrt gf'oTUt unto the 7^*nL" l):ui. ix. 3, 4, " And
1 prayed unto the Lonl wy God, and fnade
Mf/ cttuftiuum.'" Ezra x. I ; 2 Chron. xxx.
2*2 ; Roui. X. 9, 10; 1 John x. 8, 9 ; cum tnu/tls
aliiji. Thus we see that, although G(xl en-
joins confession of sins, yot that it means not
secret confossion to th« priest, whereby may
be obtained absolution, but a humble acknow-
ledjjment of our manifold ini«iuities to Him-
self, the great Fountain Head, who alone if
able to pardon them.
**ContWsarius*' next brings forward that
oft-quoted passage by St. James, eh. ▼. 16,
"Confess your faults one to another, and
pray one for anotlier, that ve may be healed.
The effi'otual fervent prayer of a righteous
man availeth much.** This bean on the face
1- Ji:i. f ,)VFi;-i-i<':T \T. iv h\i:m.»n'v wnir inti
^|^^ "AT,
«»i it .s'Mi.i'tljiii^ vory liili-'p-'it tn-Mi :iir.;cu!.ir
confc^ion. The mennin^ of the text is pKiin
and obvioiu, and is explained fully by our
Lortl Jesus Christ in the sermon on the
mount, Matt. v. 23, 24, if any one has in-
jured another, let him f;o cotiJ'tMf it lo A/n*,
and tlien let him come and oll'cr his gift.
La^stly, he quotes that beautiful pasisage in
St. John's I St Kpistlo, i. 8, 9, " If we say that
we have no sin, we deci'ive oursi^lves, and the
truth is not in us. If we confess oar sins,
God is fnithful nnd just to forgive us our sins,
and to cleanse us from all unrip;liteonsne5s."
This, by a mysterious course of reasoning, he
tries to make conclusive. He says, " Private
confession to God nlone cannot Ite meant for
two stronj; reasons; first, because the con-
fessinii; our sins is here put in opposition to
the saving we have no sin: these two arc
opposite to one another, and tliereforc nuist
ccrtninly relate to the same ohjoot. Now,
who is there in his sensi-s who would d.ire to
Bay to God, in private, that he ha» no sin?
In this part of the sentence, tben, the ajiostle
certainly means sayin<;, we have no sin before
men; and, consequently, in the opixjsitc part
of it, when he says, ' If we confess our hins,*
he nccessaiily means before men also." We
prieve deeply at such wrest in^i: of God's wonl.
Weak must be the authority for a doctrine,
if proofs such as these are required. Alas !
people, instead of taking their R-lij;ion from
the Bible, make a creed of their own, and
then go to the Bible for proofs " If we say
we have no sin, we deceive ourfvlrcjt" not
oth&rn, as it must be, were the reading of
" Confessarins" correct. No. If sin has
hardened our heart, so that we say in it we
have no sin ; or if, conscientiously believing
ourselves pure, we repeat our cunviction to
others, then " wi* deceive ourselves, and the
truth is not in us;** but if humbly we ac-
knowledge our iniquities, and confess our
manifold sins unto God, then "lie is faithful
and just to forgive ns our sins, and to cleanse
us from all tmrightconsness.**
We think, then, we have satisfactorily
shown that the Koman Catholic Church is
utterly destitute of scriptural authority for
her doctrine of auricular confession ; and it
now remains for us to endeavour to prove it
a novel doctrine, without exhibiting any great
" ignitranco of history/' or ** wilful misinter-
pretation of it."
*' There is no doubt that, in the early days
i>\ (..ini.'jti.iii.tv, I ii:>]iro-tnli.'>si!'u aii'l '.'.-iij:.! .■
tor open and scandalous crimes were in Dse,
and were observed with much strictness.
Bat we do not find traces of any general lar,
or even custom, that called for the Kcrrt
confession of sins to the priest, as a neces-
sary part of repentance, and a conditkm of
forgiveness. When this ancient discipliM
fell into disuse, it was at length soccefiM
by private confession to a priest particulariv
appointed to the otHce, and called the ptw-
tf nthri/ ; but, upon the occasion of a scanual
which ba])pcned, the practice was abrofiated
by Nectnriiis, bishop of Constantinople, vLich
plainly j.roves that, in the judgment of lb
churcii, it was not regarded as a sacramental
act." This tlieir own canon law proti-s,
which states, " It was takrn up only bv t
certutu trutlition of the churc-h, snd it^it by
any aathorihi of tht Old nnri Xew Tr^n-
nwnfjt.'"'* ranorniitan says, **he finds »>
/mmij'r.-if author it If that iver <ii»l or Chriff
comnuintfid us to confiM our $ira to a
prUst." f And Peresus, a bishop of the Trrt*
Council, declares, that '* the clear and plain
manner of this ordinance, both in respect d
the subfetance and circumstance, appenrt^k
onfy by tradition." %. Petms Oxoniense,
too, affirms, that " it had thv b^ffimlngfra»
a posit 1 if law of the churfh, and not /r»*
the laic of litnL" § The Bomiah St. Biwns-
veture j| held this, as well as Mcditfc**
Ikhenanusft and Erasmus];]: affirm, tbit
" neither Christ oniaintd it, nor ike atcknf
diiirrh vsfd it." Hear Caietanr— "A ma
contrite or sorrowful for his sin standethcietf
in the judgment uf God, and is a fbnDdi
member of the militant chnrcfa.'*§§ Hdi*
contrition, as it goes before contessioB, t^
may be without it. Lastly, St. ChiywitoO
says, " This is wonderful in God, that be no:
only forgives us our sins, bat neither doibbe
disclose them nor make them known, ndtiwr
docs he enforce us to come forth ami t^^
* De FieniL d. 5, in Pceititeuiia. Oloff.
-f Super 5 tie Ptcnit. et miiJM.
t I)c Trmiit. par. 3, cfm^in. '.i,
I Carraar. iu Sexto. 4 Onand.4 d. I6,pitt9-
fl 4 d. 17 pug. 157 post Allexand. part 4,1'^
m. 3, art. 3, p. Sl)t!i, quo^ reltrt. Ynn. OniiuL siu
supra.
•• Refert Henri, sum. p. »«, edit. 8sh»«*
Khi-m. annon. Joh. SI, S3. Uopk. MnSV' *
Chri>lian. 325, i 3.
■ff Annot. ad llicr. de oMtn FsbfuL
tt Annot ad TertnlL de PoniiL
U 3 Tho. q. 60, art. 4.
A
d
AVD MOBAL FBBEDOM OB SOCIAL WBLL-BEQIO?
385
tibem. He rtqiures no more but ^uxt we
md: to him tUone^ and to hvn ethne confess
m-fanitsJ** For mmf jean the matter
rested in this state, and, until the year 1215,
BO eftirt was made bjr the chnrch to establish
it; thra, at the foarth eonndl of Lateran, a
^eene nas passed concerning it. At the
C(aDdl of Florence it was aijfain considered,
lad at the noted Council of Trent it received
the fixm it now bears, which is as follows : —
"The miTersal church has always under-
Etood that an entire confession of sins was
ttdabed by Christ, and that it is of divine
nziit, stcessary to be obeervcd by all who
bre fallen into sin after baptism ; for our
Led Jesus Christ, being taken from earth
to heaT«n, left his priests as his vicars, to
^ judges and presidents, before whom the
faithful should bring all the mortal sins into
viiidi they have fallen, to the end that,
^9n^ the power of the keys committed to
tiifln for the remission or retaining of sins,
tb^proDounce sentence; as it is manifest
tJbit the priests could not exercise this
jimsdictkm without knowledge of the causes
ti sin, or maintain equity in the infliction of
peiaiMes, if penitents should confess their
^isf ODiy in general and not in detail, it
''&m that thej ought to disclose and enu-
T^eiale all the mortal sins with which they
ve eaoscious they are chargeable, even the
3)<@t secret of their transgressions; and not
^ly the sins themeelves, but all the circum-
sttoces which gave a particular complexion
to them." We find, then, that although for
'^T years the wholesome custom of penance
^ lave been gradually changing, yet as,
nUl 1215, no official recognition of auricular
^^00 took place, we cannot date it from
*> etriier period.
How, what is the nature of the confes-
^? We read that it is a part of the
Rimish sacrament of penance, which is in-
>titated **for the remission of sins after
^ptism," and ** is as necessary as baptism."
In the "Real Principles of Catholics" we
'^•d, "What is sacramental confession? —
Afiswer. It is an accusation of our sins
^ * proper priest, &c, in order to receive
*^Hrtioo. — Question. Is it a great sin to
WQceal, through shame or fear, any mortal
«^ ia confession?— Answer. Yes, it is a
grieroBs lin, because it is lymff to the Holy
* Horn. S8, ad Pop. Antioeh.
GkostJ* Thus every conscientious Romanist
.believes that, without absolution, all who
fall into mortal sin after baptism cannot be
saved ; whilst to omit any mortal siu in con-
fession, from whatever reason, is regarded as
a mortal sin, and invalidates the sacrament
of penance.
The influence, then, of the confessional
must be most powerful. It is a net, cun-
ningly woven, to ensnare the minds of men
through their superstition. Is it employed
for good or evil? The answer is to be found
in its history and practice. However it may
vary in unimportant particulars with different
nations, yet its vital principle is the same—
the animating principle of Popery— absolute
power. Though confession is only absolutely
commanded twice a year, yet its constant
use is not forbidden. Hence the credulous or
the morbid minded will be frequently using
the — to them — comfortable sacrament of
penance. The priest, too, in the confessional,
stands as a judge; the penitents as criminals.
Hence every evil thought— every unholy
action — every carnal desire — all the hidden
secrets of the heart— ^must be laid bare to
him before absolution can be received. Think
what power be has — gentle or harsh, con-
soling or denouncing, strengthening or ter-
rifying, knowing how to discover that human
depravity we would in vain conceal; all his
questions must be answered by the wretched
penitent, for without this abfiolution is re-
fused, and without absolution — damnation.
Secrecy is promised. " Only God knows it;
then why hesitate?" How awful a power to
place in the hands of flesh and blood — no
angel, but one subject to all the unholy
wishes he demands an account of from the
penitent "/ the Lord search the heart;
/ try the reins." And shall any fallen man
presume to exercise God's prerogative? Can
this be consistent with moral freedom? No!
not moral freedom, but moral slavery. Is it
consistent with social well-being? Peruse
the casuistical works of Liguori and others.
We have said confession is made under the
vow of secrecy. The confessor knows as
God*s servant, not as man. Should murder,
treason, or any fiendish crime be intended,
and revealed in the confessional, he could
not divulge it, not even to save the life of
one victim. Thus, all the evidence necessaiy
to convict an atrocious criminal may lie
within the reach of the priest, and yet the
886
IS TBB ooBirKsnoirAL cr lUBXoanr with istbllbotual
offender af^unat (jod and man escape, only
to commit greater crimes and heap np mote
damnation. Still there are cases where dia-
dosnres may be made, and jet not infriof^e
the oath oC secrecy. Ont of many sncb we
will cite one. Lignori says, ** Oat of ooo*
fession, with the permusion of the penitent^
it is possible to act concerning things heard
in confession, either with the principal or
any one else, althoogfa it is dangerons."
**H9 that confesses may so act that what
the priest knew . . . «w God he may also
know as man; which he does when he gives
him permission to speak eonoemiag it; and,
moreorer, if he speaks he does not break the
seal."* Is this, too, consistent with social
well-being? What fearfal schemes may be
contriTcd between the priest and penitent (9)
for the harm of innocent persons, who com
hare no guard against them!
And will any one declare that snch a
practice is chsistian? It is a dangerons
pitfall. It is a deadly poison, for which
Protestantism is the only antidote. It bloats
the edge of oonscknoe, and stupifies the
moral sense. Instead of leading to God, it
kills the sool. Were this a place to enter
into detail npon the bolls of Pios IV. or
Gregory XV. for ^ repressing the abomina-
tions of the confessional,** none would marrel
at the disgost and horror every troe Pro-
testant feeb towards iL Its casuistry — its
seal of secrecy — the subjects touched on —
all prove that the oonfossional is dstrimenul
to the morals of the oonfessor and penitent
Can it stand the test of Leviticus v. i?
*'And if a sool sin, and hear the voice of
swearing, and is a witness, whether he hath
seen or known of it ; if hb do iror irrrER it,
THBN HE SHALL BBAR HIS IBIQUrrY."
Alas! no. No one can thoroughly examine
it without sorrowfully feeling that its origin
is unscriptnral, and that it is utterly at
variance with intellectual and moral fireedom
and social well-being.
C. C. F.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
Thb impressions which we form of any
object depend very much upon the position
which we occupy and upon the medium
through which we view it^ A foggy atmos-
phere envelops everything with gloom, and
changes the appearance of the very orb
of day. It is so with moral and spiritual
subjects; our own prejudices and antipathies
obscure the plainest truths, and give repul-
siveness to the most beneficial practices.
When, therefore, we have formed an un-
favourable o|nnion on any subject, we ought
to inquire whether that opinion has been
produced by the antagonism of the subject to
our feelings or to our percepti<ms of verity
and virtue. It would be well for the oppo-
nents of the oonfessional to do this, and not
to come to the discussion under the influence
of all their blinding anti-Catholic prejudices.
This train of thought has been occasioned
by W. G.'s negative article in the last num-
ber of this magazine. He there indulges in
a long turadft against the Catholic Church,
the cUims and character of which are not now
the subject of dispute; and then expatiates
on the right of exercising reason— a right
taciUy admitted by aU tiding part in this
* 8m, alec, D. Thorn, in Simple. 9, 11, a 4.
debate. While professing to be the friend of
Reason, he bribes Passion to lead her astray I
"Alas, poor Yorick!"
We cannot help contrasting with this th«
tone in which the aifirmative articles are
written. Both " Confessarius" and J. B.
very properly and calmly view the question
apart from its oonn|xion with any particular
church. And thus, we oonceive, it ought to
be viewed ; for the confessional is not exclu-
sively a Catholic institution, for there is at
the present day, notwithstanding ** Aristides^
may be ignorant of the foct (pw/e 1st par.
Neg. Art. I.), a Urge and increasing body oT
clergymen and laity in the Church of £na:>
land very properly insisting on the impor-
tance of auricular confession.
Having made these observations on the
spirit of our opponents, we may offer a few-
hints on the arguments they have brought
forward. They attempt to /iroM that the
confessional is not in harmony with mental
and moral freedom by astertmg that it in>
duces " servility of mind," detracts from oor
" common manhood " and takes away " the
moral jurisdiction** of conscience. And here
we would ask. Might not these objections b^
urged against the restraints of every moral
precept and every civil ordinance ? For xJ]
ASn HOBAt raSSDOM OB SOCIAL WBLL-BSDIO ?
S87
ihae an oppoati, to aoan's indindiiaUfm in
thepgiit aod actko, when that thon^t and
KtioD an contruy to the laws of God and
iBu. If man was now, as once, a perfect
^>ojtg, he woaU nqoire no nstraimog nor
ntacing infineoeea. Bat, alas! he has
Ukn fitem faia high estate, and needs ex-
tsml agewaes to bring htm back and keep
Um right His ** mind" is strong, bat it is
apt to nm astray; kis '' manhood" is noble,
Tet it is defined; and his ** conscience " onlj
speaica while her Toice is regarded, and
then she eloaes her lips in sallen silence.
^ eaafieasionai is in harmonj with man's
noacieace that *' gires evidence sgainst
^ sonl;* it is not antagonistic to his man-
^ttd, hrt to his great enemj, sin; and it is
aot oppond to mental freedom, when that
hiiaa is not opposed to God. Trne, it
3ttj be eaatmj to oar flesh, and repngnant
tooor nstnne, bat from this fact a verj power-
^ aignment in its favoor maj be drawn.
it las been well said — **^ The very natare of
^ dotj itself proves it to a demonstration ;
^, as it is n da( j exceedingly contrary to
^ and blood, most hombling to oar pride,
tad moa* afficting to selMove, it is f^inly
oapoeqUa that miuikind eoold ever have been
isdaeed to practise it as a necessary duty, by
asy hmnatt aothority, or indeed by any other
^acaas whatsoever, than the foil conviction,
^ €ed himself reqnind it from them ; and
^ cenvietion they never ooold have got, if
it had not been introdaQ^ into the world
^ Chmtiamty itself, and flowed from the
mas diviae source with it. Let as sappose,
fiirexaopk, that the Christians of the Brst
^ had no knowledge of this practice, nor
^'^Knd it necessary to confess their sins;
vhe woold ever have dared, in after ages, to
^B^Kodnee so heavy a yoke, or impose snch a
baxden npon the fiaithiul? What opposition
BBst aoefa an attempt have met with ? What
clamoan woold have been raised against it?
^hst diviaioos and dissensions moat it not
^tt^nrrssioned? And how would everybody
!*«*• cried oat against it as a novelty, an im-
?9BtioB,aher<eBy,aad what not? It is, there-
^n, jAmlf impossible that it ever oonid
bare been established in the christian world,
bot by tiw eommand of Almighty God him-
Klf. Boaides, all monmnenta ii antiqnity
clearly ahow, that it has been universally
learned and practised threngh the whole
chriatim chntb, m all coontries, and in all
ages; nor is it possible to assign any other
b^inning to it than that of Christianity
itseld Add to all this, the infallible an-
thority of the chnrch of Christ, which always
did, and to this day does, hold and teach as
a truth ravealed by Jesos Christ to his
apostles, and by them delivered to their fol-
lowers, that the duty of confessing our sins in
the sacrament of penance is commanded by
God himself, and is his express law to all
Christians."
With respect to the bearing of the con-
fessional npon morality, many dark insinua-
tions have been thrown out. "Aristides"
says that ^ the Bomish clergy, being celibates^
not from choice but from compulsion {though
they chaae the office knowing that it entailed
cdSbaqf), it is quite apparent that the power
which they wield is liable to abase ;" which
is tantamount to say, that they an hnman,
while no one denies it. Can oar frieod point
to any kind of power, to any ordinance of
religion, or any gift of God, that is not liablo
to abase? We think not. Then the only
point of inquiry is this — ^Aro those clergymen
that possess the inflaence of the confessional
mon frequently gailty of moral crimes than
othen ? And we maintain they an not.
That sach crimes among them do not more
frequently reach the public ear than others
is a cinumstance patent to all ; and that
they are not more frequently conmiitted, is
probable from many reasons; especially from
the fact that prudent matrons who have been
accostomed to frequent the confessional
themselves, have no hesitation or reluctance
in sending their own daughtera there. Were
it otherwise, is it at all probable that these
persons would so far forget their womanly
feelings as cheerfally to place their beloved
children where they knew their virtue would
be probably despoiled, and their purity de-
stroyed? We dare trust to any female heart
for the reply. Again, it is objected that the
books which the priests use, in order to know
how to probe the human heart, must neces-
sarily pollute them. To this we need only
remark, that the same charge might be made,
on the same grounds, against medical men
who have to study the remedies ix secret
sins, and to solve the mysteries of mid-
wifery. It is farther said, that the questions
which are put in the confessional are calcu-
lated to pollute the mind: but it is forgotten
that these questions an not put indiscrimi-
388 IS THE COini'ESSIOXAL IX HAHMOXY with I2fT£LLECTUAL FREEDOM?
natelj, and ou\j to suspected persons, and
thttt the object is to lead the persons to de-
test such sins, and to avoid them and their
occasions in future. It is better to draw the
festering thorn from the ilesh, painful as the
operation may be, than allow it to remain j
there, endangeiing health and life.
In regard to the relation of the confessional
to social well-being much has not been j
said. W. G. makes one or two assertions,
the boldness of which is designed to compen-
sate for their lack of truthfulness. " The
confessional," he complacently informs us,
" tends to the aggravation of crime." In-
deed ! How so ? Bj breaking down the
" universal barrier to crime" — " a fear of in-
definite consequences." The indefinite con-
sequences of crime the confessional cannot
alter; but, after a full confession and expres-
sion of sorrow, it can and does add certain
penalties to sin, which must have tlic eficct
of rendering it more ropuUivc. As to the pre-
meditation of crime and ihe iuviulabilit/ of
the confessional, the following extracts from
" A Digest of the Evidence taken before
Select Committees of the Two Houses of
ParUamcLt, 1824-25,* may prove illustrative.
The Right Rkv. James Maoaurin, D.l).
" Q. Supposing the priest was made ac-
quainted with an intention to commit murder,
in the way of a confession, would he think
himself authorized to make any communica-
tion upon that subject?
" A . He would exert hhnself to prevent the
crime beinff committed ; but any communica-
tion made to him in confession is inviolable;
he cannot divulge it.
" Q. Supposing it related to a crime not
actually perpetrated, but about to be per-
petrated; in that cose is the communication
made inviolable?
*^ A. If a crime is intended, and if it is
made known to him in confession (w/y, he can-
not divulge it ; he is to use his injlucnce with
ihe individual so far as he can to prevtnt the
crime heintj committed ; but what he hears
in the way of confession is inviolable."
Here we see that a persuasive influence is
brought in against crime, entirely through
the existence of the confessional ; and though
its inviolability may appear to mar it.s use-
fulness, yet that this is essential to its very
existence, is self-evident, and is plainly set
• London : T. CadeJl, 18-iO.
forth in the following extract from the same
work :—
Rev. j. Doyle, D.I).
" (2. Would not such a regulation (I'-f^M
making known the secrets of the confession])
defeat its own purpose, as far a-s connected
with the security of the state, by preventing
the habit of confession on those subjects?
" A, Altogether: but by leavmg it as it
is," the abuse of it is impossible; becansa
when a criminal comes, if he should come, to
make known his crime to the priest, the
latter endeavours to dissuade him fn>ra it,
if not perpetrated, and to repair, if it be
done, the injury he has committed, as far as
it is in his power. Ij\howcrcr, it irereonce
aliuived to the ]>i'iest to reveal the con/r4*if«,
under any circumstances, no criminal tmuid
come to him,**
Thus we see that the confessional, so £tr
from encouraging crime, is diametricallT
opposed to it, and established for the vfty
purpose of its suppression : to prove that thb
eflect is produced by it we may, in conclnakiD,
quote the following remarks of an intelligvot
Protestant, Lord F. Williams:— "No per-
sons in the Catholic communion can tpproieii
the holy Eucharist without having cod-
fcssed all their sins, without distinction or
exception, in the tribunal of confession; aoi
1)0 minister can give them permissiuD t*
approach the holy table, without hsTia;
fii'st puriBcd themselves with all the neec^
s;iry dispositions.^ But these indispensaHi
dispositions are, contrition, the pi«cise and
general avowal of all the faults theyooo-
mittcd— the expiation of every injostic*-
the full restitution of everything UlegaDf
acquired — the pardon of every injury reerifad
i — the interruption of every criminil aal
I scandalous connexion — the renunciatkm cf
' envy, pride, liatred, avarice, ambition, dif
I sinmlation, ingratitude — and of every feeliiK
' opposed to charity. It is, moreover, at tki
same time necessary in this tribundl, to fff^
' a sacred pledge to God, to henceforth avflU
; even tlie most trivial faults, and to striellj
' accomplish all the sublime laws of the goi^
I What securities, what pledget, are not tba
' exacted from each individual, to discharg
I his social duties — to practise ererr viitae-
integrity, charity, mercy! Here coosdeix
I is regulated before the tribunal of God, m
before that of the world. Here the crinuB
is his own accuser, and not his judgs; m
HOW TO 8TUDT HI8TORT. 385
Tfa21e the Christians of other oommnnions,
ifter a partial ezuninatlon, pronounce in
timr own caose, and absolve themselves with
dence — a perfect harmonj in the exercise of
their respective functions I The authority
of the prince cannot d^enerate into despotism ;
iMal^eqce, the Catholic Christian is scni- nor the liberty of the people into licentious-
piIoQsIr examined by another, awaits the ness. The magistrate, in the administration
ttotooe of heaven, and sighs after that con- I of justice, must be impartial — the senator,
ttiiog tbsolatbn which is being accorded to , equitable and disinterested — the priest, pure
bim. refused, or deferred, in the name of the | and zealous in his ministrations — the soldier,
Most Hi^h God. What an admirable method i loyal — the subject, faithful— and the sove-
f£ otsbllshing among men a mutual confi- reign, just." X.
€jr
t ^Dtirfufi' Ittlmn.
HOW TO STUDY HISTORY.
Tet to do it npoo some system. Endeavour to group, as it were, into different sections
tb^rarious parts of what we call history. Have a plan; no one of our English histories
vin do for you taken alone; not even those of them that ore most nearly descriptive of
^ht my views are aa to what English history is, would I advise you to read, to tho
otlcsioQ of the rest. It seems to have been allotted to us as the result of the various
conflicts out of which our system in policy and religion has taken its complexion, that
listoTT aholl be everywhere written, more or less, under a party bias. Well, then, trust
to no one implicity. Compare those that aro known to write under different influences,
^ tr; to get your impressions from a fair comparison. But that is an extended labour.
I bare spoken of history as having parts. *' Divide and conquer" is the maxim; ascertala
^balthe parts are. There is what is called military history; there is what is called
ci^il LUtory; there is the history of arts and science; there is the history of manufactures.
Break ap all these into their distinct sections ; learn what the history gives you in rela<
ti% to these civil matters separately; question yourself, when you have read certain
joTtiooa — " What have I learned from this relative to the great questions of govemmeut,
^ CQodition of the people, legislation, and how the laws ore administered, and manufac-
tam, sod commerce, and learning? " Except you do this, my fear is that you may read
^ Wge space, and feel that, for want of some plan of this kind, you have not gathered the
Tci^t that is necessary to the encouragement of your efforts. Now we have histories
'hot are written considerably upon this plan — Hallam's "History of the Middle Ages," fop
instMM, — ^where you have the different parts broken up, each part complete in itself, and
^ the parts going to constitute the entire of the history. I make these suggestions^
having ooce had some experience as a professor of history, though so obscure were my
•lou^ in that way, that you may not be aware of the fact I have ascertained how im-
f«Ttaat it is, in order to enable youths to feel that they are making actual progress, that
tier iboald proceed upon some such plan. — Ihr, Robert Vaut/han,
EDUCATION; ITS PROVINCE AND ITS INSTRUMENTS.
Tnc odIj being capable of Education is man. In the inferior animals, when certain
sta^ of pbysicai development have been acoomplishedi the animal can perform all the
990 education; m pro^ikce and its instrvmkkts.
fonctloBs of its kind, and no more. There is no progress, nor improYement. It is not bo
vitli man. He is possessed of powers and faenlties, whieb indeed need development, bat
which are capable of endless improTement. He can avail himself of the experience of bis
fellows, and of the accunalated experience of past ages, and advance towards perfection.
To devdop his powers, to place within his reach all that others have aooempUsbed, to
ronse him to Tigoroos and continued efibrt in behalf of his own personal improrement, to
aid him to form habits which will render him a valoable member of society, and to exclto
him to employ his energies in behalf of social progresf and national welfare; this, and
much more than this, lies within the prorince of Education. In the child there is a
temple in rains, which it is the aim of Education to remodel in all its pristine beauty.
In his mind there is the image of Deitj defaced, and Education, as an instrument, is to
be employed to restore it in all its lineaments and fair proportions. Education aims to
bring ont and train up, in dne time and at their proper seasons, all that constitntes man.
In its most comprehensive scope it embraces both time and eternity. But atf it relates to
the schoolroom, it chiefly includes development of powers, formation of habits, and fitness
for the discharge of social, relative, and national duties.
Education includes deretcpment. Man is a being of various powers and (acuities^
phjrsical and mental. T^e man is allied to a physical nature, through which he receives
all his impressions of the external world, and through which alone he acta in his relatiom
with his fellow-men. Again, the mind receiving all its first impressions through tinl
senses, is passive, but it has active powers, such as perception, conception, and judgment,
though these powers in the infant are latent, and need to be developed. Again, man 1ik
relations to man and to God, and certain duties arising out of those relations ; he also pos-
sesses the power of discerning the nature of these duties; in other words, he has a mon)
nature. Here, again, time and circumstances are necessary for these relations to be recog-
nised, and for these duties to be performed. Hence, again, there must be development
Where the physical nature is not defective, the development of some of these mental potren
begins at the very dawn of existence. Sensations are produced on the mind by extennl
objects, through the senses, and in a little while the mind begins to associate these senss'
tions with the objects, and then there is perception. And here development is the itsalt
of circumstances; but it is not solely attributable to external causes; much of it is o^^
to the mind*s own energy. Yet circumstances have largely to do with the development Oi
the powers and faculties. As far as this development is concerned, we should define evo-
cation as the art of placing the child in such circnmstanees, of employing such ageccieS:
and of giving him such exercises as are best adapted to develop his physical, mental, and
moral powers.
Education includes instructwn. It is a common error to confoond these. But the oM
is essentially distinct from the other. If a man make known to me some fact that baa
come under his observation, he is giving roe information; if he make plain to me some (c»
position in science or art, he is giving me instruction; but if he employ the latter skilfallj*
for tlie pttrpose of exercising my own faculties, then he is educating me. Instruction i^
the art of making things plain to the understanding. It is that which throws light o\ts
an object, and renders it visible to the eye of the mind. It has the sanM relation to tlM
mental faculties and the oligeots of mental eultnre, that the ran has to the eye and tki
BEl^OUTB OK 3IUTUAL lUPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
391
extmul irarld. As the cje could never revel amongst the beauties of nature, \rithont the
peMDce of light, so the mind coahl never enjoy the creations of the past without
iutraction.
httniction shoold be employed solely as an instrument of Education. We thus claim
for i: t higher sphere than tbat of nuikinj; man acquainted with the discoveries of science,
x'Ki tU progress of art, or even of fitting him fur the discharge of certain employments,
vLidi his wants or his social position require at his hands. We ask the educator never to
Cir« iostmcticm with tlu'be things as his aim. lie sliould never employ instruction for its
ova s.ike. We wonld not have him leave them entirely out of his calculations, but ho
should hold them in a very subordinate positiou. We would have the educator never to
{or^.'t that the child is a being uf high powers and destiny — of powers cajiable of boundless
iinj.forenwnt5, and with a career of progress th.it knows no tennination. — Pojttrs y V tfie
Si-hiMjtrrtWftti:
BEPORTS OF 5IUTUAL IMPIIOVEMENT SOCIETIES.
Inmiff Literary fioeUties' Union. — Firxt An.
i«4i Stttting amd FeMtival.—TUt Ant aniiuid
Btf ting uf ihia imporUut SMiociation wa» bcltl in
lab* Reading Uckhd, Murray uule, on the even-
iflfor TliursJay, July 20; Mr. John Hunter,
m^{in«ident, in the chair. The repurts hy ihf
bttHBcr and secretorie* ihowed that the union,
faiali)^oiiit»,DOl«rithstaDdib|; the many diliicullius
mttfidcd with, vod tlie puMic dtrlivory and pub-
fakioff Ola >ehe» o( lectures, hax ]>ruved itielf to
he I MiretfSkful experiment, m much ho that it
■viMolved to proceed immediately with atraDf.'c-
Mbts for anoth«r roune during the «:nHuinf;
■iBkr. Tlie office-bearers Tor the uusuiuK year
*m elerted as follows :— Iter, (ii-onrc GiUillan,
pfsirnt; Meatnt. John Hunter and Willism (i.
aioMfDl, % ice-presidents ; Mr. David MyU't,
^(Mavr; and Mesars. Geo. Stewart and Andrew
Ckw. <»cretarieB. The annual festival of tin-
VKon KVk held in Iamb's new Itnll. in tlie Teni<
Vmnee Hotel, I2e!onn-sirect ; Thomas Dick,
U..D.. ^ihe Christian Pliilr-sopber," und ex-pre-
■^ of the vnitm, in the chair. About l.VO »ut
^n io Ira, which was svned at tables in a very
^nior maoner. Intere^tinff aililresses Wfiv
VivQtd by the Chairman on the advantages of
^^MMitties, and by Mr. Geor^'e Kobert»on on
*n«4iBU>ie, Mr.Georee Stewart on tJie literature
•fftediy, Mr. Walter Unidie on |K>puliir manias,
Ir.band M. Walker on ambition, and Mr. John
HMvronthe lanfcuaire and poetry of nstrunomy.
^y iairtTala «erc admirably filled up with reci-
^"SoB* tbd music. Altoircther, the cntertHinment
*■* of ■ bijrh caste, and reflected ftntat credit on
<0 the ia«iividiial soctetiea of the union, and it
*>«kl hk«r been a difficult ta^k to decide « hich
*f(h«a made the beat appearance on the occasiun.
7k« utasbkt harmony and frootl humour prevuiltnl,
^ tin renermble doctor m the chair, and some
^vknns dmlered near him, were a^ hajipy und
^Miled aa the youngest in the hall.
Mrfkmmie$' liutttute mud Mutual Tmprotf:-
timi Sotittg^Kiddermimtler. — The hr.tt anuiver-
■ly ef this aDeiety was held on Wednesilay, Sep-
Inkrl.lfiSS, at thaWesleyan School Kooms,
Jl<*qnl PleaaaDL Upwards of A Ay raembent par-
SM»k of tea, Mr. Samnal Yates, being moved to
the choir, opened tlie mectiofrwith an appropriate
>}>ecch, hhowiuK the value of such insututions to
the youih of liritain. AlXer leu, tlie officers for
the ensuing; f|uniter were balloted for, when a
vote of thanks was pu.sseil to the late officers.
Mr. C. T. Trevi)*, roaster of tlie Old Meetinf( Day
Stbool, in addreshinu the meeting, stated tliat he
felt a f!rc-at inten'st in the cuuse of ** mechanics'
institutes," und kindly pruflrred his services in
instructing the nu-nibers in various branches of
education. Tbe nkceting duly appreciateil this
generous ofTer. The thanks of the meeting being
pro]iOKed to tlte ladii's who had so kindly con-
sented to preside at the tea-tables on the occasion,
a hearty re>>iion!te was the result. Mr. W. S.
Kobarts, one uf the active members, in rejdy to a
call Intni tlie tbainnan, guvi; a ri'trotipi>ctive
L'lance of the society's )irt)piv8s during tiie first
year of its existence. He stated Uiat its origi-
nattirs, about twelve in number, had, by un-
daunted penieveianec and unwearicil exertion,
increased their nujnt)ers to upwards of sixty, and
directed them to re^^tird this as un (-arnest lor the
future, lie trusted thiit, instead of numbering
by tens, they might, at no distant period, coimt
by hundreds, intiniiiting tliut very great praise
was due to the siuull hand tbat first nnnmenced
o^ierationk, and that this was an indubitable
proof tliat none should " deM|iise tlie day of small
things. '' He then portrayed the gn;at benefit to
lie derived Irom these institutions in manulac-
ttiring towns, e>pirchLlly in consequence of mol-
tiiudes being Kcnt forth by their pannts (in some
cases from conijiulsiuu, in others merely for the
sake of iK-cuniary yain) to earn tlieir daily bread
when they ought to be gaining instruction for the
mind in the public seniinaryj the result of which
was, tliat as they aituined to nper years they were
prevented from filling situatioDs of respectability
and tnist for wuiit of mental attainments. The
object of these institutions was, in some measure,
at least, to ]irovide a rvmedy for this evil, and
thus elevate the working population to a position
neai-er to the middle and opulent classes. The
9)ieiLker belie\ed tliat, nhile some fear might
abii^e their attninmentH, the great majority would
be morally improved, onJ shun tlie places where
392
THE INQUIRER.
vice rBMits. Advice was tiiea given with respect
to the maintenance of j^ood onier in the vartous
departments of the institute, both as r^arded the
officers and the members, and the necessity of
maintaining an uprii;ht and consistent character
in the daily avocatiou.-» of life. — Air. O. Northover
then rose and briefly addressed the meeting, bear-
ing testimony to the fact that he, for one, had
received inteUecttial benefit from its operations ;
and, being a person in middle life, intimated the
importance of not merely providing for time, but
also for eternity. — The remainder of the evening
was enlivened by vocal performances and the
reading of selected pieces. At the conclusion,
thanks were given to the committee of the Wes-
leyau schools for allowing the use of the rooms
on the occasion.
^eio Bas/ord VouMfi Men't Mutual Improw
ment Society. — ^llits society was e«Uibli»hed. it
1 851 , by eight persons. The members, now twt-ui)
in number, held tlieir first annual meeting oi
Saturday evening, August 7, 1852. After regalinj
themselves with an excellent cup of coffti«, in',
they elected the officers for the ensuing year ; viz,
the Rev. J. WasKall, president; Mr. F. C. Brown
secretary ; and Mr. J. Tales, treasurer. Tltis »i]
ciety meets every Saturday evening, and is occu
pied with essays and discussions alternately. I
IS gratifying to leam that the society is ^rogri'ssini
so well. A marked improvement is visible in al
who take any interest in its debates. Seveml c
the members feel much indebted to the editors fci
the valuable instruetion derived from Ute p«rusi
of their magazine.— F. C. B.
€IiB 3ni|ttiwL
QUESTIONS BEQUIRING ANSWERS.
134. Having long felt an earnest desire to study
maUiematics, both for the sake of their acknow-
ledged utility, and also with a view to an uni-
versity degree, I wish to have the opinion of some
one, competent from previous study to give it, on
the following points : —
1. Which is the best method of studying mathe-
matics, the analytic or synthetic ? Isit advisable
to use the pen much in committing propositions
and theorems to memory T
2. Is Goodwin's '* Course of Mathematics " a
good work, per »e, to use as a curriculum of ma-
thematical study ?
3. Does the study of mathematics injure the
health, and may a person of weak constitution
give close and exclusive attention to it for a time
(say two years) without harm 7 Is it generally
ii\}urions, or otherwise, to the health 7 How does
it, in thf endf afiVct the moral and intellectual
character?
4. How many hours a day should a person of
ordinary ability study, and what kind of simul-
taneous reading is best suited to counteract its
efieots7
To answer all these properly will require, I am
aware, a knowledge of mathematics, of physiology,
and of mental philosophy, such as few possess ;
but of those fSew there will be some, I doubt not,
courteous enough to reply to these queries, and
oblige— A LoTKR of Natubr.
1S5. I have understood that the tide-wave which
passes by the west coast of Ireland, and afterwguvls
waMhes the northern coast of Scotland, returns
within a few hours down the German Oceau.
Would one of your readers be kind enough to
inform me in about what latitude the turn takes
place, and what are the presumed causes for this
apparently backward movement?— A. C.
Ii26. What kind of an examination are druggists
required to pass to be members of the Phorma-
oeuticai Society— the knowledge requisite, ex-
penses, &c., and every circumstance couuecled
with it ?
Is there any society (or what else it may be
called) for examining in chemistry solely? Ifsi
what is the address— is it a very strict vxauiini
tion — expenses, and ail other connected ntc4
sories 7 — W. B.
127. Having devoted some attention to tbr|
retical music, I am desirous of pursuiug t)
beauties of meilody and harmony stiU ftutbcr; li
of late I have become perplexed ma regards t]
application of accidental notes, viz., possiuir i
transient notes, appoggiaturas or notes of u^|
and pedal passages (suspensions, antieipatioi]
and melodial syncopations I am familiar «it]|
Will any of your readen inform me of some \
their lues, with examples 7— W. P.
1*28. Will any of your correspondsnts be kil
enough to funnsh me with inibrmotion on t|
following points with respect to ** Mercator»' «1
has given his name tu that desoipticm of ini
known as " Mercator's Projection," vis., ^ho |
was, what he was, and to what country he 1|
longed 7— IttEXB. i
129. In the opening article of tb« *' Erkrj
Review " for March, on ** The Genius and Wriiii>|
of Bunyan," it is stated that the three gr^i<
nniurul geniuses of Britain hitherto have be^ii
player, a tinker, and a ganger. A little funher \
it is asserted, strange though it aeem, tliat i|
three most rising poets of our day are a brewcrj
wine merchant, and a seller of shawls. Kfj
who are these three poets hinteti ft, and wbstj
the nature of their poetical effusions 7— Dkc I
WHAKNAK.
130. Will any of your correspondents be kij
enough to inform me what are the beat meaa«)
be adopted in the preparation of canvas, in orJ
to bring it into a stale for raceirinc the paiu'.tl
J.Y.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
75 and 121.— fiff. Bets Cot/^e, CumhetUi^
—The question of '* A Subscriber" recall*
memory that of "Clerieus," which. I thid
has not yet been answovd, and pnrhsps i|
following hints nay b« of service to both.
THE INQUIRBB.'
393
thffbwvilie nne object in view— ontering the
■iititfj in eoanerkni with the Choreh of Eng-
Itti 8t B«ee CoUtege, Caraberland, preaenta
praKvidranlage* to needf itadenti, iu ohfcet
^mf to Mvply a good end eeoDomlcftl edoeation
larcaafidMM for holj ordefB. The time neces- <
■7 *ote spent in the college is, in all eaaea, not
kmbntwo yean. Thia period is dhrided into |
<nr kms, dnrini^ which reaidenee is iudis- t
poable. The ftnit term eoromenoes about the I
^ of Jiaaaiy, and ends towards the 5th of I
Htj; the second begins about the 85th of August,
ttddoNsaboot the 5th of December. The third
n'feaitli are like the fint and second. StadenU
«« nfHind to be in reaidenee aome daya before
tbe eoomsneement of lectures, which begin
pButoaUy (Snndaya excepted) on the 1st of Feb-
tmj md the 1st of September. StudenU are
*^atLtd at flie oommeneement of either tenn.
IVre bnng no collegiate buildioga, each stu-
dett fonuahes himself with a bouse or lodgings
» As nOage, under the direction and coDtrol of
^princqNd. The expense of board and lodgings,
*^ eniMiBy, muj be irery amalL The fee lor
^^oa u £10 a tenn, paid eadi tenn in advance ;
toeiBpneaa are paid bjr each student wheu he
vaMsiiiio residence, in aid of a fund forlceeping
tte tcOegt in rapair and increasing the library ;
1^ cap and sown coat about £1 10s.; this, with
^ sdAional cost of some prescribed books, in-
clsdcsiliaenjeeesMffy expenses. Thtf librarian,
*^ is ceoerally a dntinguisbed student of the
f°flqte,» exempted from the payment of the col-
■PS fce.
Btfoie any applicaiion fbr admission can be
<°<af*in(Bd, the ponadpal muat be ftarnished with
^^^atmda from two clergymen of the Church
c^EaKland ; one of these must certify (after a
Moat md intimate aeqnaintanoe) that the party in
^**»bdialfit la giiren is a man of unblemi«ihed
^onStf and eonaistent piety ; that he ia oordinlly
gw^wd to the Church of England, and fitted, by
» pmeni halriia, character, and attaiumenta.for
veoOocof the mtnisiry. It must also specify
"» ife and eonditioo, as well aa his pursuits from
^ cne when he left school to that iu which the
^er^itau is granted. The other testimooial is
to «eiti/y, after a sincere and bond Jldt examina-
^ dM the individual dmring admission is
«<« to eoastrue the Greek Gospf Is and Grotins
« ^•niece readily and grammatically ; and that
p ^ a eoncct knowledge of the rudiments of
^^°* eoaapoaition. No student can continue a
"^^"■ber <tf the college whose conduct is not in
*uR^ieeia saliafhetory to the authorities.
< be tinrito of age are twenty-one and thirty-five.
" » desirable that the testimonials should b$
^» as early aa possible before the commence-
"CDt of that term in wliieh die student proposes
t>t«loa Us reaidenee.
Tbe eooeae of atady daring the four terms em-
ff^e^ scriptural and eeeleaualieal history: the
*^^^^i«i» of rcfigion, external and internal ; au
pysiiaty knowledge of the New Testament;
*^<^'«a OB the ereeda and the articlea of religion ;
^'*>^ty, doctrinal and paatoral ; and Latin and
^*f)»h wimiiiwHiim, espiedally that of aermons.
^ J< » mt neeeiearr that the students should
Nmt with them, in the first instance, more books
baa an mmocaiied *< Gteek Testament" (Burton's),
■Midlctoa'a *• emtua,'* and Tomllne'a •< Intro-
For further partieulara see *' 8t Bees College
Calendar" for 1651 ; Kivingtons, London.
It would be a difficult and delicate matter to
point out to ** Clericua" how to raise the necesaary
fVmds> for this must depend upon his own jieculiar
circumstances. If he has no friends to assist him»
and can procure none, then his only chance is by
aeeumulating aufficient from hia prearnt profes-
sion to enable him to study for the one he haa set
his heart upon. This may be difficult, but it ia
not impossible (o the eameiit man, and such a one
we hope our friend is. — A. C.
91. The Wehk Language.— \-a answer to ** Via-
tor,** as to what books are most suitable for com-
mencing the study of the Welsh language, assum-
ing that he is acquainted with the first princi--
pies of the Welsh language, I beg to forward the
foUowinglist of books, which, I believe, will supply
the information sought:— "Vocabulary," by D..
Jenkins, Aberystwilh, Od.; "Aberystwith Welsh
Interpreter," by Williams and Son, Aberystwitfa,
6d.; Spurr«ll*s '* Grammar of the Welsh Lan-
guage/' 9s. ; and "English-Welsh Teacher," by
Prichard, Caernarvon, Is. If '* Viator" is not
acquainted with the first principles, the enclosed
book ( ** Llyfr y Dosparth Cyntaf" ) is the best that
I can recommend bim to commence with, which I
think he will find useful, together with conversing
with some person that is conversant with the
Welsh lanpoage; if not, he will be labouring
under a great disadvantage without seeking the
aid of some one. — Gwillim.
lots. JlfonmoM<AsMi-e not in IToles.— The first
part of H. P.'s Informant's statement— that Mon-
mouthshire is not in Wales, but that it used to be
— is quite correct; but, as regards the agreement,
made many years ago, bv which one county passes
fVt)m Wales to England once in every century,
and ceaaea to be considered a porUon of Wales,
the following extracts will ahow that, if auch an
agreement ever existed, the provisions of it were
never carried into effect. It is true, 1 have heard
parties state something similar myself; but they
were uneducated, and knew little or nothing of
Welsh history. The mere mention of such an
sgreement generally creates a smile. But for
something conclusive. Judge Blackstone, in
treating of the countriea subject to Uie laws of
England, in the fourth section of his " Commen-
taries," says :— ** It is enacted by this statute— S7
Hen. VI li., c 1— that the dominion of Wales
should be for ever united to the kingdom of Eng-
land. « • • • • And the statute
34 and 35 Hen. VIII., e. 20, confirms the same,
adds further regulations, divides into twelve
shires, and. in short, reduces it into the same
order in which it stands at this day, diffhing from
the kingdom of England in only a few partiotilars,
and tho«e, too, of the nature of privileges (such aa
having courts within itself, independent <^ the
process of Westminster-hall), and some other im-
material peculiarities, hardly more than are to be
found in man^ counties of England itself." Par-
ticular attention should be paid to the words,
" divides into twelve shires, and, in short, reduces
it into the same order in which it stands at thla
day." Blackstone wrotein the reign of George III.
T. C. Thornton, in his ** Popular Geography,"
aays: — '^Walea was formerly of greater extent
than it is at present, being bounded only by the
Severn and the Dee ; but, after the Saxons had
made themselves masters of all the plain country,
2h
394
IHB IKQUIBBB.
Um W«l«h, or Ancient Briloiu, were shut up
within morenerrow bound*, and obliged gradually
\o retreat westward. It doee not, however, appear
that the Saxons ever nlad^ many Aulher oaooueeu
in their oountir than Monmouthshire and Here-
fordehire, whioh are now reekoned part of Eng-
land."
The following extract ie fttnn James Bell's
** Geography:"--" Dinsions in Alfted's Ume."~
The present dirision of England in counties or
shires owes its orioin to Alfred. • • « •
According to the mniion of Enj^Iand by Alfred,
it contained but thirty-two counties, Diuham and
Lancaster being Included in Yorkshire, Cornwall
in Devonshire, Rutland in Northamptonshire,
Monmouth$hir« in Wales, and NorUiumberland,
Westmoreland, and Cumberlaud being sul^ject to
the Scou. The stauite 34 Henry VIII., e. S6,
gave to the counties of Wales, and to the a^fointng
counties of England, the names snd extent whioh
they still retain."— VoL iiL, part zi.
I will make no remarks upon the above, but
leave B. P. to draw his own oonelusions.— P, J.
107. The French Langttage. — In answer U> an
in(^uiry inserted in your valuable periodical as to
which books are best adapted to one in the position
which X>. J. describes, I would beg to suggest that
he will find John Caaseirs books on the study of
the French language both vjviy excellent and very
cheap. The first one, "Easy Leesons in the
French Languafr>>" P^ce Od. ,is compiled expressly
for self-instruction m its rudiment! ; and ** The
Manual," price Ss., is adapted to the student who
has passed through the former. — Puoxoo.
109. The Temperatwr qf Water/nm a Fump.
—A. Z., dottbtiess, has heard of the philosophers
who were puszled to account for the difiTerence in
the weight of an animal before and aAer its death.
Now, is he or his *' friend " certain, from experi-
ment with a thermometer, that the case is as his
query insinuates ? For the ease as stated many
plauiible reasons may be assigned ; but all of
them are, to a certain extent, hypothetical, and
would Uicrefore, if wrongly based, give rise to a
pleasant parody on scientific explanation. A. Z.
ss aware that there is an exact ratio between the
average temperaUire on the surface of the earth
and the temperature in approaching towards the
centre of the earth : the farther we recede from
the surface, so much the warmer does it become.
The principle here involved might be consttrued
to serve as an explanation. Again :— Friction is
continually taking place in the barrel of the pump.
Friction gives rise to heat ; and the ftictive ope-
ration regularly repeated must, by all laws, he
acctimufative of heat ; and this heat, during its
proffreisi ve stages of increase, necessarily passing
to the wster, must consequrntly, from time to
time, raise itt temperature also. In advancing
the«e statements, we would distinctly intimate
that the explanations they contain are not sup-
posed to be applicable in case the water manifests
the enumerated symptoms to the organs of toticA.
It is doubtful whether the most delicate instru-
ment would indicate the effect of the issue of the
combined causes which we mention ; and it is
certain that no thermometer can show an increase
in the temperature of each successive body of
*•*«; ^blch the pump propels.— B. 8. J.
110. Anecdote of O'Connr/I.^Tbe drcum-
stances roferred to m this anecdote happened on
the aoOi gi juiy, ittM, i he Ci.anoellor of the
Exchequer (the Biffht Hon. Thomas S. Bice) Its
moved the annual grant of several thouasn
pounds for the Eoman Catholic college, Ms]
nooth. This grant was opposed, first, by Colow
Sibthorp, member for Lincoln; then by Colon
Perdval, member for Sligo ; and then by Coloo(
Vemer, member for Armagh, all in suocessioi
They were followed by U'Connell, who, all
amusing the house by calling the three oolone
the ** church militant of the house," ooutuIm
the members with laughter by an " imprompi
parody" on Dryden's well-known lines. '^O
these gaUant colonels 1 " aaid he; " I moit \t\
ture a parody upon them.
** Three colonels in three distant eoonties bon
Did Lincoln, 811^, and Armagh adorn:
The first in gravity efface sorpass'd;
Sobriety the next — in grace Hie last
The force of nature could no Anther go —
To beard thejlrtt ihe shaved the other f tro."
What made this so ludicrous was, that Colon
Sibthorp was "bearded like a pard," wbUe H
two others had Etcn as smooth as naonks.
J.K.
1 13.— I>iary.— The beat form of diary, for or
nary use, are those prepared and sold by t
stationers, providing a space for each day, with l
date of the mont)i and year. Theae are so o:
venient for <|/ier n^erence— a great point in tli«
matters. If, however, you would frequenUy I
quire more space than ordinary diaries pn>\M
you must of course have one made to meet jd
own peculiar wants. Thediaries prepared for {
use of the lewal profession are geiurally «
veuiently made. It is well to enter, if ever
briefly, the proceedings of each daj. Many p
sons enter up regulany, erery morning, th< p
ceedings of the previous day. S<Mne pref«'r
close the day by a reviewal of what they ha>ii' 94
done, and thought oL Circumstances will prv
much determine this point; only, if possible,
a lime and keep to it. — C. W., Jnn.
Diaries are now so common, the plans of tir
arrangement so numerous, and the obje«;(:i
which they are applied so various, that Uie
quirer cannot expect a very prectsa answer to
question respecting them.
The plan of a diiuy depends upon the o^ert i
iuquirer has in view. Does ha wish to prt>9«iv
record of his mental lil^— of his daily avoc«tii>i
of his studies — of his desires— of has failinfi^-i
his progress 7 Then his object is worthy of
attention ; for if he can attam a process thsi i
carry out his wish, he will possess an instruiu
that, whenever employed, may teach hiro i
which is so primarily important — a knowleiip
self ; it will bestow on hun a habit of reflrrt
worth acquiring ; and in consequence of hi«
vances, and errors being reviewed by his mind,
will learn how to follow the fonner and avoid
latter.
Your inquirer asks for a plan of a diary, « h
demand I am at a loss to know how to satisf} ;
if his vocation is literary, he requires a diOtt
rtlan altogether from a commercial man : i(
ife is amongst the higher classes, or if his ^pL
is that of the counting house, it would be a k^
mistake to present him with the plan of a «iisr^
a professional man. Indeed, we can hsi
imagine how a system could belaid down suitfl
to rei'ord the mental life of two characters.
ras DTQUIRBR.
89S
Hoverer, I anr tSAj reaommend to the noriee
of the iaqoirer, ttu jonrnal of Dr. CbsiiiierB, in
dbefth chap., Sri Tol. of bU lUi, bf Dr. Hanm :
«-,if a diaiy in wtaieh to nole engaffeaMiila, &e.,
■ D«eiM, that pabluhed by'Letts. Royal £x.
cteBffc, would bo found omAiI. AlthociKb Aber-
eraaiHe, in taia aroriK on tha ** Intelleetaal Powen,"
Ydstai of a pbf«iflian who naver kept any nota of
nn oamfeniiM ennffamenta, and yet was Invari-
t&lf panatoat to fhca, II ia not all who poaaaaa
cac6 a nMnaory, ao that a note book or oiary of
Mae soit ia norded.
1 diary mnat be (for tba word impliea it) a daily
tenant, and wmeh, in all proper diariea, ia tha
mt.'-S. C.
l%e fcOowing fa tta plan of a diary which I
bsw BMd for BMiv yaara, and find to answer
fte parpoaa f ery arw. Fint,like Mrs. Partridge's
«99k, harinir eanght my hara—^ blank book large
eosarii to ooatain the reoord of events for a Tear
—I ocw two linea parallel with the top of the
pa(«. In the ftrat down I ioaerted the day of the
s«rk,day of the month and year; in the second
I adfesad the oontaaia of the page. It will fr»>
t«atiy happen thai tha recoid of a day'a pro-
fcefiDftswilifini^halAniydownapaffe. In that
csae, bcftt for the aaka of neatnasa, to aare die
cpaoe, and to obtain a beading for nest day , I draw
« hat down Ilia middle of Aa page. /( is no<
Bwfsaaiy, nor, I believe, is it nsnal, to enter each
^* prooeadinin. My own pian is, to carry a
po^ekbook, and to note down anything remartc-
>Me whitifa may ooeor, under its proper date, to be
s&Twards filled into my joomal. I should also
BortMHi that I always eommenoe with a notice of
fte »taie of the weather. — Iasxb.
115. Am. H«rkarimm.^In gathering flowers for
FnarrraiioOftfae following things must be attended
to :— '* A good apedmen abouM show every part
of fte plant; its root-laavea and stem-leaves ; its
fl3«ers. both open, and in bud ; its seed and seed
v«*fH in tlkdr diObrsnt statea ; and, if possible,
*f^tt*ed tegalber upon the same specimen."
TbMc things are of the utmost importance in dis-
tiftmi»htng the AflSsrent species of numerous
6n^i«s of plants. When a specimen is obtained,
s ibimld be placed between two sheets of blotting
psper. in a book auitable for the purpose, the
H?er being fint warmed before the nre. Arrange
t^ lyeeiaieu aa naturally as possible, and, after
csnMIy dosing the book, pnt a weight upon it
Tbt spedmm aboold be plaoed between fkvsh
^«li of blotting paper every day for about a
«v<^ When the ataik of the plant is thick and
*^)dr, the under aide of the stem may be cut
•vay! After yoor specimen is dried, it may be
<nadwd in a little alum-^wafer, to prevent its being
^aamd by inaeeta. In arranging the various
«?frimraa, the collector may follow any system
vkich be prefers. The plants being thus pre-
P3fed, be should pnM;!Dre soma stout writing
yfn, folded in folw and stitched into a corer.
A ^lect of finer paper tbould also be obtained,
soil vaahcd over with a eolation of gum arabic.
Vbm diy it should be cut into a number of narrow
^ip« : tiMtt, taking a dried plant, lay it in your
kxA. and foaten It down by means of a few slips
^ Qie paper. In iMa manner all the plants for
m berbariaa sbontd be treated. At the top of
tb<» ]}«;re write ont (he class and order, and at the
^^Ktsn the plsoe where the specimen was obtained
nd the various Latin and Eitgli^ namca by which.
it is known. Franres's *' Grammar of Botany" ia
an excellent work for a beginner.
117. 8tfftf und PimttumHom. — It voold oocupy
eonsiderable space to endeavour, in these pagea. to
rvide a remedy ibr the defeota under whidk
W. L. laboura. In foet, nothing short of
personal correspondence (which, under the cir-
cumstances, he will ame with us, would not be
desirable .') would be likely to be eflectual. We
will, therefore, now refer him to several HtHa
works from which we derived great assistance
under similar circumstances, and doubt not, with
perseverauee, he will atrain the end he desires.
Let him obtain Day's " Punctuation Reduced to a
System" (Ollivier, Pall Mall) : '* Quide to Oratory"
(Mitchell, Red Lion-court, Fleet-straet) ; and ** A
Treatise on Grammstical Punctuation" (E. T.
Whitfield, EsMX-street, Strand). The latter is a
fine work, with foil instructions for oorrectinir for
the press, and much other usefol information.
We shall be glad, in dae time, to hear the result. —
C. W.,Juu.
There is a diffleulty in giring advice upon
style, inasmuch aa a man's atyte is generally a
duplicate of his manner of thinking. I would
reoommend E. W. L. to study good authors, with
a determination to excel. He must not be soon
daunted, altboi^h his progress be slow, as it is no
easy matter lo become a sucoesafol writer. ** Not
every musician who can make a noise, and shour
alight of hand upon an instrument, is fit fbr a
composer of music; neither is every man who
can think with freedom, able to trrite with good
efi^4." I would recommend E. W. L. to procure
Reid's ** English Compoiition," a mostnsefol little
work, published at St. — H. C.
190. The Origin and Nature of Manore, tfc.
— Perhaps the following brief account of manors
will be sufficient for your oorrespondeut, ** In-
quiier:" —
Manors arose ont of the dirision of land among
the barons at the time of the Norman Conquest,
and are the consequence of feudal tenure. It
being a frindamental rale of this tenure that all
lands are holden of the king, the barons were
allotted certain lands, which they held of the king
by military service, and the other incidents of
feudal tenure. A portion of this land they rrtaioed
for their own immediate use, which formed their
demesne ; a portion they let out to tillage, to their
serfs or riltons (the present copyhold land); and
a portion was granted to their military retainers
by what was called knight service, or some other
more honourable tenure than that of villanage.
The remainder of the land was waste or common,
snd was used by all the inhabitants equally. This
was the origin of manors The owner was called
the lord, and held courts, termed courts leet and
courts baron, for the redressing of misdemeanours
and recovery of debts. The barons in many ca^ea
granted these manors to the inferior nobles, to
hold of thenmelvet^ and on tlie same tenure aa
they held of the king. Theae inferior lords acted
on the same principle of subletting, and had vas-
sals in the same way as their superior lords.
This sTstem of subinfeudation proceeded for some
time, till the great barons began to perceive that,
by not knowing where to look for the tenant to
whom they granted the land, thejr were deprived
of all substantial rights as snzsrain. This being
a serious inroad on their power, they caused the
statute Quia Emptore* (so called from tha first
396
THE UQUIRER.
words of the act) to be paued, in the reign of
Bichard the Fint ThU statute provide that on
the sale of any land no uew seigniory, or inter-
mediate tenure, should be created, but tliai the
purchaser should hold of the aaine lord as the
oimer immediately preceding him. No new
seigniory having from that time been created, of
course all exbtiug manors, which iucluUe a
■eiguory, must have been created prior to the
passing of the statute. There is an exception,
however, in the case of tlie king, who. l>elng lord
paramount of all lands in the kingdom, has the
right of creating what manors he thinks proper
out of the royal lands.
The subject is rather an intricate one, and to un-
derstand ii fully a knowledge of tlic feudal law is
reouisite. I khall be glad, however, if I have been
able to furnish the information your correspondent
requires. The chapter on tenures, in BIockKtone's
** Commentaries," and Sullivan's " Feudal Law,"
will, I think, aiTord any further information that
may bo wanted.— J . L.
Manors are, in substance, as ancient as the
Saxon constitution, though, perhaps, differing a
little in some immaterial circumstnucesfrom those
tfiat exhit at this day. It is from the Normans that
we derivethe particular form ofmanora witli which
we are now conversant ; and among these a manor
(nianerituM, or manuendo, because the usual reiti-
dence of the owner) seems to have been a district
of ground held by lords or great personages, wlio
kept in their own hands such parts of it as were
necessary for the use of their families, which were
called terra dominicalest or demesne lands, being
occupied by the lord, or dominus manerii, and his
•enrants. The rest, or tenemental lands, tltey
dbtributed among their tenants, to be held ot them
in perpetuity.
A manor consists of two parts, viz., deme$ntt$
and »ervice»; and neither of these two ]mrt» have
the name of a manor without tlie other ; for, a»
a messuage or lands cannot be called demesne
without tenants tliereimto belonging to pay rents
and do services, so, on the oth«r part, though a
man have tenants to pay him rents and do him
service, and no messuage or lands whereupon
to keep his court and to receive his rents and ser-
vice*, this cannot be called a manor, but only a
seigniory in gross. The two material causes of
a manor, then, are demesnes and services. The
demetfU!* comprise all that part of tlie land retained
by the lord for his own use, and from which the
other parts were dismembered. The freehold of
these is vested in the lord, and they were formerly
coltiTated by his villans for the maintenance of
his family. The tervice* were the returns due
from the persons to whom the lord had granted
the fkvehold of the rest of his lands, to hold of
him as of his manor. The uncultivated part of
the manor was called the lord's waste, wliich
served for publie roads, and for common of pas-
tare to the lord and his tenants.
Manors were formerly called baronies, as they
still are lordships, and each lord or baron was
empowered to hold a domestic court, called the
court bai on, where they might redress misdemean-
ours within their precincts, pimish offences com-
mitted by their tenants, and decide and abate con-
troverries arising witliin tlieir jurisdiction. Ihw
court is, indeed, the chief prop and pillar of a
manor ; and if the number of suitors should so
Ail MB not to ieare sufficient to make a jury or
homage, that is, two tenants at the least, the maim
falls to the ground.
Quia Emfttores, ^x. — In the early times of mv
> legal constitution Uie king s greater banms, %i»
I had a large extent of territory held under tbe
I crown, f^iuently granted out smaller roanois t»
inferior persons, to be holden of tiiemselves ; in
imitation wherrof these inferior lords beinui t»
I carve out and to grant to others still more iainsie
; estates, to be held as of themselves ; and were »
proceeding downwards, till the suinnrior Ufi*
I observed that by this method of subinf^datiM
they lost all their feodal profits of wardih^
raaiiiages, and escheats, which fell into the baa'*
of these mesne or middle lords, who wen lbs
immediate superiors of the fee-tenant, orhinvko
occupied the land ; anil also that the mesne laeh
tliemselvM were so imi>overished thereby dut
they were disabled fVom performing their stfvicts
to Uieir own superiors. This oceasiimed, finl.
that provision in ilie thirty-sec-ond ohspKf of
Magna Charta, 9 lien. IlI.,**thatnoman9hfleU
either give or sell his land without reserving
sufficient to answer the demands of hbloid;
and afterwards the statute of Westro., or Qsia
Emptores, 18 Edw. I., c. !., which direetts^lM
ui)on all sales or feoffments of laud, the ftoAs
shall hold the same, not of his immediate fetftKp
but of the chief lord of the fee. of whom taA
feoffor himself held it" The praetioe of ercaliB|r
manors, or tenancies in gross, was eSedastly
prevented by the statute Quia Emftwti, in cm-
sequence of wbich all manors existing at thii^iV
must have been created before the 1^ Edv.L;
for it is essential to a manor that there be temals
to hold of the lord, and uo person since tkifc
period could, upon the grant of an estate m k^
simple, create a tenure of himself.— H. S. W.
I'Jl. On entenng the Ministry of the Chmxk^
England.—** A Subscrilier" might, if he slrvsdr
possess the requisite qualifications for takioff bolf
onlers, which have reference to age as well sa
moral and intellectual endowments, apniy at ooce
to the bishop in whose diocese he resiiles for ad-
mission, at the proper time, lo the prelimioi^
examination, which will probably be aUoved,ii>
case he can produce testimonials fVom two 0r
more clergymen of the parish in which he tvaUt*
as to his character and fitness for the otⅇ ^
he might enter his name as a siaar at one of tktf
small colleges at Cambridge (Clare, or Pembroker
or St. Peter's), where the expenses might le kci^
down to i;60 or £1Q per annum ; and if he coaiA
then procure one of the London Compamrs' ci»-
bitions it would materially airs'isthim; or.lsil^r
if willing to go out as a missionary, be c«ua
receive tiic requisite education at King's CojlfEff
London, or at one of the Misaionary SodctT*
colleges, for almost nothing, the onW czpfo**
lieing, I believe, his board and lodgioc. f^
fuller particulars he might apply to the biihflf *
examining cbaplain, to the tutors of the coltef*
or to the secretaries of the Missionary Society asa
of King's College, London. — Fil.
133. Cambridge Univtr9ity.^A\k infinnri^
respecting the University of Cambridge wcetMff
previous to becoming a member is to be tanai #
the " Calendar," to which I would refier yoorflf*'
respondent, and others who may wish to 1b0*
what are the expenses, terms to be kep^ 1mM<*
attended, examinations passed, &e. Tbett il**
will be fouud a fUll desoiption of tbe eounO ^
THB TOU90 BTUDBMT AXD WBITBB'S AflUBTAHT.
397
stBdf Ar hmunn md for an ordinary degrM
rspeetivdj; aod it will be seen tbet, while the
foraureonaiitii almottexelnsiYely of mathematies,
tlw latter ii of a more elementary, bnt at the same
liaM more general eharaetar, embracing Greek
tad lotia aolhors, Greek Testament, Paley's
"Moral FIriloaopby,'* ehurch history, the ele-
iiMBfuy mad»ematics, and, reeently, a profes-
mial enadnaticm in one or more of what are
ealfed ** the naCoral seiencea.** That part only of
vooreaneqiondent'siDquirr, an answer to which
» not eaotalaed in tiie ** Calendar," remains to
W ooDsidered, viz., ** what are the peeoliar ad-
vatsffs of porsainc eaeh eoorse of study respec*
ti*dr «/far one hot te^ coUeget" A proper soln-
(km of this qoeaCkm u to be sought, I apprehend,
a I nrieCy of cirenmatances, mostly independent
•f Sw eonaideration of what may be the intrinsic
nhtct tbm higher roathemalies as a mental dis-
qpUna in the situation and proapeets of the
ttadeat— in his strength of oonMitution, his
"sptitale for mathematies," his olttanaie views
«idi regard to the dioiee of a profession, and his
gpwfabons of after-prefennoit, if in the ohareh.
If he poasese good health, with tolerable skill in
«9pi^ending mathematical theorems, and intends
*idjing for the bar, the mathematiad coarse of
iMy woold ondonbCedly be preferable, and he
*<nid find die adTantage of it through life in a
tlaipeBed inteiieet, in greater readiness in ar-
nofdog and dassiiying fects and evidence, in
^Bdadng general coaelnaions from nnmeroos and
*Pfann^ eontnuUetory statements, in detecting
ad exposing follaeieB in the arguments of others,
ad in ^odofling eonTiotion by his own. In the
^Be nanner, but in a dlflbrent degree, the stady
^ aateaatieB will be nseftil to the members of
(
**^ proiBssion — ^to the theologian and politician
n& 1. Staart ICifl's «< Logic '^)— and to the eu-
gineer, ttie mechanic, the military man (vide Whe-
well's *• Cambridge Studies " and '* Thoughts on
the Study of Mathematics ; " also, Warren's *' Law
Studies,'^ and Professor Sedgwick's " Dis-
course").
On the other hand, a total incapacity for ma-
thematical study, especially if combined widi ill
health, ought to deter any one from attemptiug
to graduate in honours (vide Andrew Combe'a
" Principles of Physiolosy ," ch. xii., »▼.). Many
who hare gained that disdnetion at the expense
of a rained constitution and blighted hopes of
after-usefUluess have regretted meir folly ever
after. The course of study for an ordinary degree
is for the great mass of students, who will have
neither time nor inclination in afterJife to become
SrofidentB in science, more reallj useftU than tho
igher mathematics. Bacon himself, the great
master of modem philosophy, in later life con*
demned with severity the high pretensions of tho
mathematicians, " Delicias ec faatum mathemati-
corum." Assuming the well-being of the human
race to be the end of knowledge, he pronounced
that mathematical science coiud claim no hie[her
rank than that of an appendage or an aujdhary
to other sciences.— (Siacaulay's ** Bacon.")
In conclusion, I would advise your correspon-
dent, if he finds much difficulty in understanding
the first six books of Euclid, and Elements aS
Algebra and Plane Trigonometry, which are the
A B C of Mathematieal Sdence, to suspend his
decision upon the course he will adopt until after
he has been a term or two at Cambridge, when he
will know better, by a comparison of himself with
his fellow^wllegians in the examination, what he
is capable of d(nng, and will, besides, be able ta
have the advice of an experienced tutor upon hia
dianoes of success in studying for honoors.—A
Tbinitt M4K.
€^ ^Birag Ituhnt flni Wxjitfs %sMa\A.
GKAMMAB CLASS.
Sxerriscs in Grammar, No. IX,
^ Make a form like the one given, and axrange
tU ptxaoons in their respective columns.
John and I are Roing to Bristol, where we
expect to remain with a friend, who has kindly
invited us to spend a month at his house. My
sister is to remain at home, to take care of our
little ones, each of whom haa promised to attend
PRONOUNS
PXBSOKAL.
KELATIVI.
ADJBCTXTB.
Slagolar. PlnraL
Simple. 1 Compound.
Possessive.
Indefinite.
Xis.Fcas.Keat
Mas. Fem.Neut
seauBfldve.
Distributive.
.
Pnatssiie.
Possessive.
Demonstraave.
Otgcethw.
Otgeotive.
398
TUB TOUarO STUDBHT and WBITBU'S ABUmXHT,
S everj word wfaieli abe naj My to tfacm. The
horse which is to take us is mine, purohased with
my own money, and hence no one has any right
to control me m the use of it. This house of his,
that was given him by that uncle that set him up
in business, has been seen by the whole ot his
relations who hare made it their business to visit
him, and whom he has entertained to the best of
his abiUty. His house is, mdeed, larger than
ours, but its fittings are not nearly so elegant.
Whoever maliciously ii^nrea a friend, is sure to
hate him. That is a fine horse, whosesoever it is.
We are all here. Which do you want? What
message have you to send to my friend? Thou
art innoeent, tberafore thy consaenoe is easy. I
have some nuts ; will you take a few ? Perhaps
you win prefer an apple, if I can find one. Ye
are not your own. Those peaches are some of
the very best sort. That book of Hannah's is
very neat, as her papers usually are. This writing
is hers, too ; it U very pretty. Whatooever thy
hand findeth thee to do, do it with all thy might.
Whiohever you choose, I shall be satisfied.
9. Sute Qk9 peculiarities of the followmg •ajte-
tives, and account for theqi, so far as you are
able '^"^
Good, bad, worse, better, old, evil, ill, late,
more, nether, near, ftirther, mither, fiumer, next,
most
LOGIC CLASS.
Exerciae on the Art of Reatoning.^No, XX.
1. What are the olgecU ot" Method?"
S. Show how far, if at aU in your opinion, any
one of the " Methods " quoted in Paper XX., fails
to include all the objects in Ni^re.
3. Write a Criticism on any one of the " Me-
thodologies " which you do not take up in answer
to Query II.
4. What are the Laws of Association ?
5. Distinguish between , and show the respective
offices of, Analysis and Synthesis.
6. A brief view of the several points compre-
hended in our Logic Class.
7. How far have I, i.e., each individual, bene-
fited from the course of study given me?
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— VI 11.
Arilkmetic and Algebra,
Queetion a8.~Let « be the time required ; then
the son would do— of the work in 1 day, and
1 *
the ftither — , , ^^ v
.-. The father and sen would-— -I- - or- —
•_ 1 J«_ O JF OX
in 1 day.
' 1
But this per question = —
x+b 1
• • a. "^
bx a
.-. * (6— •)=io b
a b
b—a. — AnM.
J. C. M> C.
QuMtion 29. By "Euclid." book i., p. 47, the
square of the hypotenuse is eqiial to the sum of
parpepdioidar.
s -/40"-ld*«i
the aquarea of Iha baao and
Hence the height of the walla
V1375s37-06.>-i(M.
Que»tion 30. The side of the square nay be
Ibund by extracting the square root of tiie sres.
67 acres, S roods, K perches s 10616 pArehes.
VIOSlOs 101 perches, or 2 ftirlongs, 94 perches.
R. J.
Question 31. Given x*+Jryal96\ to fiml x
X |f-9 y*+6a0 i and y.
Substitute v y for x ;
then v> y*-«-vy*e126 (1)
fr^(l)»*=i;7;r^ andfrom(2)y«=: ---_-
196 fl_
or-S v*— A OB ISd V-9&9
by transposing 5v* + 131 r=SS«
.*. completing the square—
and extracting the root—
^131 ^ /2a90l ^140
14Q 131_18^
^' lu "" 10 ~1U
l\>i
or=-
140
10
and y*s-
131
.1
or y* = •
r-2
5
:95
T.B.
-:«-9 _
.-. y=±5 or ±-vrj;_»
vyssXssdbO or db98i/| f —Ans,
Oeontftry.
Question 14. The solidity of the pyramid being
equal to the sohdity of the sphere
s I8> -t-236=.d053 OSdS inches.
Now the side of the pyramid =ihe soliilitv of ibe
same when its lineal edge or aide is 1* (i<-^
•1178511) multiplied by the cube of the liue«I
edfl« or side of the pyramid in question.
Let r=the side required ;
then x» X 117851 ls3(»3'6359,
3053*6352
or X* sT^ a95010'fla0ft
°" •117«5n =***''^~«'
.-. x= V'idtflO'OeOSsSd-S inches.— J/u.
L. I*'
QwitUm 15. 2* x •5236a:4a88fl feet solidit; oC
the sphere, and 4188a-i-2=r20»l4 feet soliJitr •"
the hemisphere ;
then (20044 X 1728)-}- 277-274 =1305 gallon.* im-
perial.— Ans. K. M.
MechanicB,
Queation 13. Depth of the water,
=-100-56=44 feet;
mean height to which ii is to be raised,
s56-|-Vs78feet:
weight of the water,
=17* X -7864 X 44 X G9-5a6S4l9fi-63 lb. ;
work in raising it,
=624 196-65 x 78 = 48687338-7 ;
time required,
=^!^- «lW18-40m.=39d., 4h., 58«».
2500
the days being 8 hours each.— Jws, T. L. D.
MOZIOBS OF BOOKS.
399
QmOm 14. W«k cIm to the reloei<r of tiM
Ma tt the fMrt or inottiM (W solution 10)b
UMOOO.
Vofk'of iMoidMft 1 fiyot of tho iadine
lOAxSMO
+10Ux8saOM.
100
TtoHbfv, distanee ascended
uaeooo
s-T ^a5(KrS6feet
V.H. B.
QrESTIONS FOR SOLUTION'.— X.
ArUkmetU and Aiffrebra.
36. If 7 hones cat as much grass as 9 oows,
ind i cows as much as 14 sheep, how inaDjr,
^fit bones, cows, or she^p, could summer on a
ifid irhicfa will keep 19 cows aud 87 sheep 7
^. Tea St 8s. per lb. is mixed with tea at 4s. 6d.,
>>^ tb« vaJtie of the mixture is .'Vs. per lb. How
lAK^ (>f caeb was nsed in 112 lb.
^. Iji vbal time will £700 doable itself, at 4
po KBL per annom, compound interest?
30. Given 3 x-h 1 1 y s 104, and 3 «* + 11 y«s78S,
to find X and y.
Gtowtetty.
19. Four men joined in the purchase of a grind,
stone, 3 feet in diameter. A paid i, B ^, C |,
and I) the remainder of the piioe. The condition
on which it was purchased was, that each pers(m
was to hate the entire use of it, in the order in
which his name ooours, until he has used his
share, and that 0 inches diameter was to be
allowed for waste. It is required to find the
diameter of the stone when it eama into the pos-
session of fi, C, and D, respeotivelj.
JIfecAanlcs.
17. A certain mine is 140 fathoms deep. In
what time will a stone dropped ft\>m the surface
reach the bottom?
18. A ball is projected at the rate of 800 feet
per second in an horizontal direction trom the
top of a tower 180 feel hi^h. How far will it go,
supposing that the atmosphere ofler no resistance?
iSntitfa nf 96ank
Tkt Aui^Uoframkp ^ Wittium Jerian, with kU
LUtrmrfff PotUUalf amd Social Reminiscence*
sad Correfpcmdemet during the last F\fiy
Ttmrs. ToL I. Ixmdon: Hall« Virtue, and Co.
VIBsm JeKten is " a man of letters ".-almost
%littnr]rMtria*«h, hating been connected with
^ periotteal press fbr hiuf a oenturj. With an
expcncnee so extended, no wonder t^at he has
^«a able to make this first tolome of his auto-
bi^Ti|ih]r a ttfrr pleasant, readable, after-dinner
t^. On finisfaiiHI the perusal of a chapter, one
ft^s SI tbovgh be had an inlereatiag half>hoar*s
dM vith the author; and, thou^^h we may not
hsft been straek with his profVmdit^, we shall ad.
Bii« btt cheerftatoeas soul oommunieability. He
■Ppesn to tell oa sill he remembers of Uie scenes
(^^3«{A whleh he has passed, and he tells that
•11 in sodft an easy oontersational style, that we
c^oie the first rolume antieipatiug with pleasure
^ perusal of tfie second.
icnian, like ao saany oUters who hate served
(^^ i^auralion aft tha press, ou the platform,
si:*J in the pulpit, is a Sootehman, and was bom
n Kf iso, on the 16ch of Auril, 1783. With the other
^•ofi of the place abote the poorest orders, he was
^''tbca^ed at the parochial s^ool, and designed
f->r the legal profession. When nineteen years of
•i« be lamoweJ to London, and obtained a sitoa-
^•xi at clerk in the house of a West India mer-
'^aal, where he came in contact with Mr. John
PHe, a elerk, and Mr. Peter Laurie, a fbremau
h s saddler's abop, both of whom have since had
tbe high civte lumotir of beeomtng Lord Mayor.
Jt^aa, Ukie JefflrcT and Bainea, whose livea we
baie reeeotJy noaeed. Joined a small literary
kj#Uty. whieh most bate proved of iomiense ser-
< -f^ to him. H« says, ** It oonsisted of the three
Pollocks, three Wildes, two Bramahs (sons of the
ingenious and celebrated mechanician), Frederick
Burchell, and myself. • • a j^^ ^^^ i^i g^
pause to offer a few words in earnest commenda-
tion of youthful associations of this kind. They
are of immense utility in developing the intellec
toal facnlties, in stimulating to instructive com-
petition, iu leading to sel^improvement and a
right standard of self-value, and in worthily
employing the time which is otherwise but too
likely to be wasted, if not worse, in idleness and
want of thought. Our literature, our statesmen,
our senato, our pulpit, our bench, our bar ; yea,
our public, and civil, and corporate, and even our
vestry meetings, ailbrd abundant evidence of the
future capacity which is derived from such exer-
cises, and eminently they serve to promote the
advancement of those who have been trained in
their voluntary school. The gift of elocution and
eloquence is, in fact, the readiest, most certain
high road to preferment, and if the mind is by
the same process stored with information, —
'When house and lands are gone and q[»ent.
This learning is most excellent.'
On the talents displayed at our dub assemblagia,
in Mr. D. Pollock s chambers, it does not become
me to deliver an opinion, for I was not a laggard
in the race. Davtd and Frederick Pollock and
Thomas Wilde were the most active contri-
butors ; and when I reflect on the circumstance,
that the first died Sir David and Chief Justice of
Bombay, the second is Sir Frederick and Lonl
Chief Baron of her Majesty's Court of Exchequer,
and the third Lord Tniro, the other day Lord
Hifth Chancellor of England, the foremost civil
subject of the realm, I cannot but marvel at the
fate of their fourth and their not xery unequai
400
KOnCSS OF BOOKS.
u
competitor." And to what is this to be attributed f
To the flict(Jerdan being his own witness) of his
ttatUng Jbr life on the fragiU crutch ^ Utera-
turt for tupport," This is a sad reflection ; but
the only way of escaping it is to suppose the
existence of concurrent ctreumstances connected
with the case before us, at which it would not be
generous to do more than hint Serious illness
occasioned Jerdan's return to Scotland, where he
spent three years in congenial pursuits, and after-
wards he repaired again to the metropolis. He
was now in a pitiable c(mdition, with no fixed
object— onsettled and dissatisfied. His resources
were limited, and his prudence more so, for he now
entangled himself in the difficulties of debt In
recormng this fhot we are pleased to find htm
saying, '* I cannot omit the opportunity afforded
by my earliest taste of the bitter fruit which
poisons every pulse of existence, earnestly to
exhort my youthfttl readers to deny themselves
every expense which they cannot harmlessly
offbra, and revel on bread and water and a lowly
eonob, iu humility and patience, rather than
Incur the obligation of a smgle sixpence beyond
their actual means." His searoely -recovered
health could not withstand the mortification of
debt, and he relapsed into serious indisposition.
His uncle, a surgeon of a Portsmouth guardship,
took him under his medical care, and he spent
some months upon board. He now made his
first appearance as a po«t in print, and he thus
pleasantly describes his debut and his feelings on
the oooaaion (with which some of our readers may
be able to sympathiae) :—
** I was restlesa, and could not tell what was
tiie matter with me ; I pulled the paper out of my
pocket every ten minutes, and again and again
perusrd my contribution with an intensity of
satisfaction, ever growing--ever new. I had been
writing lines to this, and Unes on that, and
stanzas to * * * *, and epigrams, and songs, and
the first staves office and tragedies, ever since I
was ten or twelve years old. But what were they?
They were never blackened with printers' ink —
never impressed and multiplied bv a great ma-
chine on wetted paper— never published to the
wondering world ! Now the deea was done which
coold never be undone, and I vras a printer
poet!"
Jerdan soon after launched upon " the treaeh-
eirous sea of literature," and was engaged as a
reporter upon a shorUlived morning paper, the
Aurora. In the spring of 1608 he became con-
nected with an evening paper, the Pilot, and Rub-
seqnently with the Morning Poet^ the British
Pre$$t and the SaHritt; but in 1613 he was in-
stalled in the more important position of editor of
the Sun, which he retained, with the editorship
of the Literary Oaxette, for the long space of
thirty-aeven years.
The work contains some interesting editorial
anecdotes, a livelysketch of Paris in 1814, and
many et etteroM. we purpose duly noticing the
subsequent volumes, and snail defer till then our
more critical remarks.
Bpery-Daff AeUwunmy ; or. Practical Leeions on
the Celeetial Sphere, By Berenice Gazrwell
Bath: Binns and Goodwin,
taker and Co.
This is not
London: Whit-
a r^ular treatise on astronomy,
but it is what was more required— a plsin and
practical guide to the every-day phenomena of ibe
heavenly ort>s. The authoress takes the position
of a friendly teadier ; and with steady finger and
intelligent gaze, points to stars and planetB, talk-
ing of their movements, and telling their names.
Her lessons assume a conversaUonal form, and
are divided into daily portions. She thus, in the
first place, secures advantages which a didactic
style would not have afforded ; and, in the se-
cond, avoids presenting at once too much of the
technical and uninteresting. We have often
wished in by-gone days for such a work, and
believinsr that others have felt a similar want, we
cheerfully recommend this, the only, volume ve
have met with well adapted to supply it.
A Manual of Univereal History, on the Basis
^ Ethnoaraphu. By J. B. Wright Bsth:
Binns and Goodwin. London : Whittaker and
Co.
The distinguishing characteristic of this worit
is the combination of ethnography with hisfemr :
presenting at the same time a deacription of
manners and customs, and a relation of public
events. This is a desideratum in the study of
histoi7 : for in contemplating the riae, progress,
or flUf of nations, we often feel deeirons of know-
ing something of their most remarkable charmc-
tenstics; as, their personal apnearance, their
costumes, their mode of life, tneir habiu of
thought It too frequently happena, that inuun-
nation, unguided by knowledge, in atteroptias
to gradfy curiosity runs into many and serions
errors. The present volume seeks to remedy tbi»
evU by associating with the general Ihets of his-
tory suodnot descriptions of men and manners.
The work is inttnded to embrace foar definite
periods of history, via. : *' 1. The primaval period,
when the worid was young; when the greMerand
wiser part of mankind dwelt in the east, in the
region of the rising sun , and civilization appeared
in its orient brightness, dothed with * the golden
exhalations of the dawn," 2. The classic period
of Greece and Roma, when dvilixatioii began to
concentrate its brightness, and aasuma psipahle
form. 3. The mediaeval period— the daric ages.M>
called— the night of civilization ; yet with many
a bright star and beamina creaaat raying forth
through the suiTonnding gfoom. 4. The modern
period, when the davligbt of civilization beins
restored, it is advancing lo its colmiiiating p<»nt. '
Sndi, than, is the prospectus whidt our author
lays before the public ; and with it he presenu
the first volume ou the " Primavml Period; '
intimating that the appearaaca of the other
volumes will be regultfad by the raeeptkyn given
to this. For ourselves, we cannot bat express
our admiration of the plan of the wtMk, and oui!
satisfaction with the manner In which it has thun
fhr been worlced out We hope the writer a ill
be encouraged to persevare to the end, and w«
feel sure he will produce a uscAil addttion to cuH
historical literature.
We cannot conclude this notice withont re^
ferring to the superior style in which Um to1uzd«
is got up, both with respect to the beenty of th^
typography, and the elegance of the binding. W4
have rarely seen it equalled, never surpassed.
Hjlttntir.
t
BT THE AirrnOR OF "the art of RE.VSONING."
No. XL— ON STYLE.
*^If men by nature had been framed for solitude, thev Lad never felt an inclination t«
WDverbo one with another; and if, like lower animals, they had been by nature irrational,
I tbfj conld not have recognised the proper subjects of discourse. Since Speech, then, is
ttt joint energy of our best and noblest faculties (that is to say, of our Reason and our
Soml Afvctiuns), being withal our peculiar ornament and distinction as matj thuso
ioqnlries may surely be deemed interesting as well as liberal which either search how
Speech may be naturally resolved; or how, when resolved, it may be again cvmhlnetV***
^nMolutifin of words belongs to that department of grammar denominated Etymology;
& re-combination of them belongs in part to Syntax and in part to that portion of
K»toric of which we are now treating, viz., Style. We are perfectly aware, of course,
4tt the ordinary definition of a good Style, viz., " proper words proi)erly arranged," has
^tm u^ailed with the light arrows of raillery by that prince of wits, Dean Swift, who
SMots that lb conveys as little real infonnation on the subject as if a telescope wero
teibed OS on instrument consisting of proper glasses properly arranged. This objection,
■HiDQch as it implies that the queries. What are proper words? and What is their projHir
ttOBgemcnt? require to be asked and remain mianswcred, would be formidable if u
■dar one were not capable of being urged against all definitions; but if all other
^(ftiitions, in a similar manner, present the ideas of which they are the exponents in the
mt eoDcijie and perspicuous form in which they can be placed before the mind, pre-
\ 'Vponng that tlie terms in wliich it is couched arc ah-eady known, or delaying tho
' pBsHar signification in irhich they arc to be understood for after-explanation, then tliis
<kjceti(a la aa irrelative agunst this definition as against any other. A detinition is a
^TBthesLs which requires to be unfolded by a miimte analysis. To accomplish this analysis,
^ <^iate the objection above stated, we have divided our prelections upou Style into
spurts; the one treating of "Diction," and answering, so far as general directions can
^N^ the qneHtioD, What are proper words? — the other concerning itself with the laws of
eviction 80 far as they regard Sentences, and aH'ording a reply to the query, What are
fti pcoper places which words should occupy ? In our previous papers we have discussed
ftiUm of Dlcdon, and had proceeded so far with the portion relative to Sentences as to
Wag tts to the second quality which they ought to possess, viz., Conciseness; and to tho
CBnidentiMm of this topic we shall now address ourselves.
IL CosciSEirEaSd — Conciseness is a term employed by rhetoricians to express that
^ttlitf of Stjlc in which all superfluity of words is avoided, and the ideas intended are
fc- —
* Harris's " Hcrnien," book L chap. 1.
2 I
402 RIIETOUIC. — NO. XI.
exhibited with distinctnesSi brevitj, and force. It does not coontennand elegance or
ornament^ although it requires a skilful employment of clear, powerful, and compressed
diction. It permits no "long drawn out" and elaborate artificialitj — no straining after
effect — ^no mere grouping together of high-sounding epithets— no dilution of thought; bnt
a vivid, direct, and intelligible development of the ideas within us which pant for utterance.
The chief object of Speech is, or ought to be, the oommnnication of instruction. When
the Style of an author is unnatural, stilted, grandiloquent, or verbose, this end is frus-
trated. When a sentence is not readily and easily understood by those parties for whom
the writing was chiefly intended, the purpose of the author remains unfulfilled. WithoQt
due attention to the perspicuity and conciseness of a compoution, the would-be sublime is
bombast, and the most brilliantly ornate figurative language resembles the leaves of "the
barren fig tree." To follow out a thought with strict logical consistency, to proportioa
the expressions employed to the real importance of our ideas, to giro definiteness and
compactness to the utterance of the intellect, and so to place before the mind the tboagbt,
the whole thought, and nothing but the thought, that it shall be clearly and distinctly
understood, are the chief excellences of composition; and, if these purposes be kt-pt Id
memory, and are steadily acted upon, a concise style must be the result; —
" For when the mind with clear conceptions glow,
The willing words in just ezpresaion flow."
When the soul is in earnest it cannot linger in the bowers of beauty, culling ** the flowers nf
Bhetoric;** but improvises, in its enthusiasm, with succinctness and ener^. The pure goU-
ore of Intellect may be wrought into garish trinketry, but the concise writer b contented
with bestowing upon it so much labour and ornament as shall secure its geDeral currency.
Such a Style obviously requires great concentration of mind, a thorough mastery of lao-
guage, and a perception of the logical harmony of thought with thought and phrase with
phrase. It stands opposed to tedious prolixity as well as to vague generality, becanse
these are oppoeed to intelligibility and attractiveness. It does more. '* Tediousness,**
says Dr. Johnson, "is the most fiatal of all faults;" but an affected epigrammaticality, an
overstrained sententiousness, or an elaborate smartness, in our opinion, nuiks next in ortier.
Hence it is necessary to say, be not too concise neither; express so much as will make
what you leave to be understood by your hearers or readers perfectly easily perceived. A
too great parsimony of words defeats its own object Over-concise sentences may b*
forcible, but they are difficult of comprehension. Verbiage b distasteful and vrearisome;|
but enigmatical brevity is annoying and repulsive. To do fiill justice to an idea, it
must be accurately embodied in words. This, however, cannot be done if we do not coo-
descend to discriminate, select, and arrange those terms through which a knowledge of it
may be best conveyed. To pass hastily over necessary steps in an aignment — to omit ia
our over-eagerness any needful explanatory clause, phrase, or vocable, or to alor over wilk
incautious zeal any important element of a thought — b to defeat the object of concise-
ness, and to give our thoughts indistinct and imperfect utterance. Do not let it be sup*
posed, therefore, that we advise a uniform condensation of phrase and oondsoness of Styk
Far from it. Difiiisenen, and even prolixity, have their uses. We merely recommend tbt
acquisition of the power of writing concisely, in ordtr that when the neoessity shall am<^
RHETORIC— NO. XL 403
viz, vben imporUnt truths deraaDd forcible statement, yoa may not be foand wanting.
Is litis, as in a]l things else, "let yoor discretion be juur tutor;" for rhetorical rules,
bttig for the most part elaborations of the intellect when too strictly followed, arc apt to
B^e too little aUowance for the exercise of the affections.
Conciseness most not be purchased at the expense of intelligibility. Let it m.'Ter be
%otten that there is '* a limit to the grasping power of man's apprehensiun, beyond
vliich,if you add article to article, the whole shrinks from under his clForts. The point
iii therefore, to distribute the materials of the several divisions of the fabric into parcels
tiut may be portable without fatigue."* This is to be rcully and truly concise; this is
tiK most effectual method of complying with the rhetorician s demand, viz., that no one
^be pat to any unnecessary trouble in discovering what you inttnd to say. It is true
^ " Within the Boul a faculty abides,
That witli iDtuTiKisitions that would hide
And ditrkeu, $o can deal, Uiat they become
Contingencies of pomp."
T<) tbe exercise of this faculty — *'the shaping spirit of Imagination" — we do not
<)^Nt, when it is not so employed as to make composition "dark with excessive bright;"
to long as the writer is not one of those who
" With gold and jewels cover every part.
And hide with omaiQeiit their want of art."
Hann(Huon8 grouping, idealized colouring, statuesque simplicity, compactness, and taste,
*e admire rather than deprecate. Against excostiive brilliancy of diction, redundancy of
l^nM, and lengthinesa of simile or metaphor, we arc desirous of warning unpractised
^(iten or speakers. To all snch we would mjj in the language of the old adage, " in
*^ tHtiuimfu ibis:^ you will be safest if you adopt a middle course. Archbishop
^Ubtlj has given the same advice already, and we cannot do better than quote his
^BKtions, with the very signi6cant reason which he gives for acting upon them, viz. : — " To
H tttbor who is, in his expression of any sentiment, wavering between the demands of
Fcopicnity and of energy (of which the fonner, of course, requires the first care, lebt he
ikaald £ul of both), and doubting whether the phrase which has tlie most forcible brevity
^ be nadflj taken in, it may be recommended to use both expressions — first to expand
^ torn sufficiently to be clearly understood, and thnn to contract it into the m(»t com-
MiooB and striking form. * * * The hearers (or readers?) will be struck by the
^iRJUeness of the sentence, which they will have been prepared to comprehend ; they will
^itiitand the longer expression, and remember the shorter."! *'A noble energy of
^^•igfat, modestly decorated by a proper and natural expression," % ought sedulously to be
'^vsted; for, ** As when the rays of the sun are collected into the focus of a buming-
IImi, the amailer the spot is which receives them, compared with the surface of the glass,
^fitater is the sfdendoor; so, in exliibiting our sentiments by speech, the narrower the
words is wherein the thought b comprised, the more energetic is the expression.** §
* Beotham's Works, vol. x.— ** Memoin and CoTTespondenoe," p. 74.
f •*]UMlorio,"p.«3.
t Ward's " System of Oratory," Sect. zzxr.
I CMBpbeirs <* PhOoaopby of Bhetorio."
404 RHETORIC. — NO. XI.
'' Circamlocation seldom condaces to plainness; and you may take it as a xnaxim, ti
when once an idea has been clearly expressed^ every additional stroke will only confuse i
mind and diminish the effect. When yon have once learned to express yourself with clca
ness and propriety, you will soon arrive at elegance. Everything else, in fact, will fullo
as of course. But I warn you not to invert the order of things, and be paying joa
addresses to the Graces, when you ought to bo studying perspicuity. Young writers are
in general, too solicitous to round off their periods, and regulate the cadences of thai
Style. Hence the feeble pleonasms and idle repetitions which deform their pages. If joa
would have your compositions vigorous and masculine in their tone, let every tcord tdV*
The following extracts will illustrate what wo mean in the preceding paragrapb oo
Conciseness, viz. : —
IsU " It requires a clear soul to see a truth so as to believe it at first sight, and there is nc'Jiic;
more doubtful than a fact to an ignorant or presumptuous wind. The reason of this is, that n^-tkiD^
it understood while standing alone. To separate any idea from its connexion is to put it out of i^
place, and thus to make it a puzzle. It is like presenting a fus&il to a man and asking Lim vLatit
belonged to when alive, and begging him to describe the nature, property, and fashion of the crri'
tare of which it once formed a paii. A large and exact extent of knowledge is demanded meatiUy
to allocate anything, or to form a complete idea of any object before us. The man of small hta*-
ledge has a small vocabulary, and few meanings, or at least few truths, and whatever does not mas
to fall in with these, he looks at as a wonder or a lie." -f-
2nd. " The use of language is not confined to its being the medium through which we comnuioi*
eate our ideas to one another ; it fulfils a no less important function as an instrument of thauf^
not being merely its Tchicle, but giving it wings for flight. Metaphysicians are agreed that KSitcIf
any of our intellectual operations could be carried on to any considerable extent without the s^^eofi
of words. None but tliose who are conversant with the philosophy of mental phenomena can M
aware of the immense influence that is exercised by language in promoting the devek^ment of ftf
ideas, in fixing them in the mind, and detaining them for steady contemplation. Into every proctH
of reasoning, langxuge enters as an essential element. Words are the instruments by which ve Am^
aU our abstractions, by whicli we fashion and embody our ideas, and by which we are ensbled w
glide along a series of premises and conclusions with a rapidity so great as to leave in the vanB/tl
no trace of the successive steps of the process ; and we remain unoonscioua how much we owt W
this potent auxiliary of the reasoning faculty." t
The general rule for concise composition is. Avoid the use of superfluons words tfi
phrases; be content when a thought is clearly expressed; aim at acquiring such a commnA
of langtmge as shall enable you to get the right word in its right place at the right \is^
Superfluity of words must be particularly eschewed; "the world is too rich in boots t»
endure it.**
As writers distinguished in general for conciseness we would mention J. S. )A
I'lacaulay, Foster, Carlyle, Sir W. Uamilton, and Grote, the historian of Greece; CnbH
Bogers, and James Montgomery.
ni. Unity is a term employed to designate that characteristic of Style which pbo**
an idea before the mind clearly demarcated from all others, firee from extrMMtf
words, and so connectedly and completely embodied as to leave no part ones
• « Kirke White's Remains "— LetUr to Mr. B. A , Nottingham, May 7, 1804.
f Moore*s *< Man and his Motives," chap. ix. p. 851.
t Hoget's "Thesaurus of English Words and Phrases," Introdoctkm,p. viiL
ItllETORIC. — SO. XL 405
vluch gires an int^ritjr and oneness to the conceptions of the intellect Heterogeneity
^ expressioa, the disjunction and disparting of the several elements necessary to present
t whole thonght in its individuality, affected laconism and oracularity, needless pauses,
^uuiecessaiy parentheses, and the want of a clear and distinct differentiation of occ idea
^"n another, are all opposed to unity. Unity of Style can only result from unity of
tlioo^'Iit, the capacity of taking a thorough grasp of our ideas, and an habitual striving after
^ attainment of continuity and fixedness of thinking. The flighty, fickle, uncontrolled
»iD<l cannot follow any intellectual operation through all its consecutive developments,
*Bd seize, retain, and represent the resulting conception; it is only from the steady, resolute,
Fnctijed mind that unity of thought can be expected. To such alone is it given to rank
ttwngst
" The mighty, who with tranquil brow,
In the pale miuesty of thought, control
The boisterous world."
The properties of a really correct Style are so closely interrelated, that attention to ono
piiiit necessarily conduces to the observance of others. No composition can be conciso
^^t being somewhat perspicuous, nor perspicuous without being concise; in like
^^iOMT, perspicuity and conciseness almost necessitate unity, while unity as necessarily
(^nrs m promoting the clear, brief, and pointed expression of our thoughts. And it is
^ that the rhetorician's laws should be thus mutually aidant; for when an accurate
Pledge of the several laws of Style has been attained, carefully studied, and rigorously
l^ietised, there naturally results an actionary and reactionary influence of one upon
^Bidia', by which the comprehension of the whole is facilitated, and each becomes more
(^ obeyed, while the increase of light thus flowing upon the subject from numerous
1^ enables the inquiring mind more readily to perceive the combined beauties of a
^, concise, and captivating style. Few thoughts are so definite as to be wholly detached
^ the modifications of circumstances, and hence it is that accessorial and dependent
4t» are generally associated in the mind with the principal conception in any sentence.
To indicate the respective influences which these exert upon the primary idea, like tho
f'npmg of a picture, requires skilful management. Without this, the due concatenation
^ irruigement of the subordinate parts in the respective gradation of their subordinacy
*^ not be properly accomplished, neither could the chief idea be throtcn out in accurate
l^i^eetiveu The general conception, destitute of all accessorial modifications, or without
^mentioD made of the circumstantialities of time, place, or manner, is a pure abstraction,
^pBzable only by the philosophic mind, and not referriblc in any manner to general
^^perience. It is needful, therefore, if we wish to be understood, to attend to the circum-
'^ttees which modify and influence ideas, and exhibit them in just proportion. Unity
^tnnnds that the precise idea should be presented to the mind as one whole, with all its
'ttoidinate relations duly arranged and fittingly grouped, so that no misconception can
MUy arise.
The CoHowhig mks onght to be carefully studied and assiduously attended to by young
Writers, in ofder that Tidlations of Unity may be as seldom as possible observed in their
•Dpositioos: —
1st. Ideas haying so intimate or necessary relation to, or dependence on, each other,
406 RHETORIC. — ^RO. XI.
onght not to be issociated in the same sentence; or, in other words, different topics shonlJ
be treated in different parRgraphs, and distinct ideas ought to be embodied in sepsnte
sentences. False metaphors and mixed figures of speech, mntnaHj-contradictorj terms
applied to the same object of thought, or the introduction of two leading subjects into the
same sentence, violates the above-giTen rule, as will be seen from the following examples,
viz.: —
1. " There is a period in the history of Europe when every commotion on its tor&ee was oectsioned
by one cause deeply seated, like the intemaijirt that i$ supposed to havt produced the earthquake
at Lisbon; and, like it, breaking out with violence in one place, and making itself felt in every pert
of the globe. This cause was the Rofonnation. From 1430 to 1(M9 the Befonnation was the frtot
lever 0/ Europe." — ** Memoirs of Europe from the Peace qf Utrecht ^ by Lord John Ruaseli,'' vol. i.
p. S7. Here it will be obsen ed that one elevating agency has, by a mixed metaphor, been lobsti-
tuted for another, viz., a lever for an earthquake ! Had the last sentence stood thus, *' From 1930 to
1649 the Reformation was the great earthquake whidi convulsed Europe," the unity of the metaphor
would have been sustained.
^ **E Tery sentence shonid be simple , energetic, and perspicuous ; laconic, yet simple in explication ;
fertile Mndjlowing^ yet free from turgidity, pomposity, and affectation on the one hand, and sterility
OD the other; divested of ambiguity and vulgarity, together with a striet adheienoe to the rules of
grammar. This being granted. Custom, like the hydr^monster Credulity, when ootqiled tu
Ignorance, must be exploded, and sent to seek its baneful retreat among the haunts qf Superstition,
in the mountains of Error, no more to make its appearance in the fruitful valleys of heaven-bom
Sdence, among the illuminated eons of W\Bdom."—Samuel Alexander's ** Logical Essay on tke
Syntax of the English Language^ Prefhoe, p. vii. We can merely quote this passage; we cannot
amend It.
3. " Devotion is that holy end heavenly fire which darteth into our minds the light of spiritual
knowledge, which kindleth in our hearts the warmth of holy deftires; if, therefore, we do coulinor
long absent from it, a night of darkness will overspread our minds — a deadening coldness will seiif
upon our affections." — ^arroio's " Discourse on Devotion." Were the word night changed inti*
season, the unity would be preserved. We cannot talk consistently of fire being the canse of day,
which is Implied by the use of that word.
2nd. Tlie course of a sentence should be interrupted as seldom as possible, whether Ij
the introduction of parenthetical clauses, a change of the grammatical structure, or the
employment of superfluous relative words or clauses. Tlie following are examples of the
neglect of this rule: —
1. ** The notin, or subject of a proposition, variously modified as we have seen it may be, is ftt-
quently complicated still farther by a definition or description of the olveci which it deoolea. Ka« .
the reference of the description to the ol^ect, and which ofuect is called the auteoedent, because astr-
oedently expressed^ is marked by the relative pronoun, which is called relative, because, like tb«
clause which it introduces, it relates to the object or antecedent. In truth, the relative is but another
and varied expression for the object or noun, wMcA is repreeeuted under a new relatioa, and tberv-
fore put in that ease which, with the verb of the relative or descriptive clause, expresses the relation.' —
^Prqfessor A, Alexander's " Elements qf Ortek Grammar," The unity of this passage might ^*
improved thus, perhaps : — ^The noun, or subject of a proposliion, variously modified as we have ^e^c
it may be, is (VvquenUy still farther complicated by a definition or description of the ot^fecC which it
denotes. X ow, the reference of the description to the object, which la called the anteeedent, beca^v
expressed anfeeeedenUy,is marked by the relative pronoun, so oalled because it, as well as the claase
which it introduces, relstes to the ottject or antecedent. In truth, the relative is bat another and
varied expression for the object or noun, and therefore put in such a case as, with the verb of the
relative or descriptive clauss, expresses a relation.
BRvrona — ^vo. xi. 407
2. ** My voice proelaims
How exquisitely the iDdividttal mind
(And the ptogreMive powers, perhaps, no less
Of the whole spedes) to the extemsJ world
Is fitted ;— and how exquisitely, too,
(Theme this but little heard of among men,)
The external world is fitted to the mind."-^ WanUworth'i ** BxcurtUm:'
3. ** Lorenzo, thou hast seen (if thine to see)
An nature and her Ood (by nature's course.
And nature's course controlled) declare for me ;
The skies above proclaim, ' Immortal man * !
And ' Man immortal' all below resoimds.**— Foun^'t ** Night Thoughti."
3rd. Al>nipt, ahort, imsrt, onenUr, and laconic sentences mast not appear too fre-
cuotlj in composition ; althongh they maj appear energetic, they are destitute of the
^itj, beantj, and clearness which belong to the carefallj-constmcted though lengthj
pniod. While bj not placing the whole object and its concomitances at one view before
V, bat eleTating each itemal relation into the dignity of an independent subject, we break
tb nirity of aspect which it ought to possess. It does not present the picture in a group,
^t brings before us in succession the individual figures which are intended to form a
^p. Such seDteacea as the following are incoufonnable to this requirement, viz. : —
" Kor let any ebureh of our order take upon itself, as a necessary part of its character, the form of
tiSfvwion. This is often said to belong to it. If the calm and consistent presentation of principles
W tbe itrong assault upon their opposites, then such roust be our offence. But it is no more. We
*««k not to condemn. To maintain the right is our duty. Against what may be wrong there may
kc ia this an implicit rebuke. Tet it is not for us to trouble other churches. We doubt if certain
vitxtm would eompenaate for all the evil the attack would provoke. To live for denominational
pD^osss seems to us an nnwoithy end. It is no ultimate good. It is no immortal triumph. It ia
Wily la indudad benefit. It is only a subservient use. Far be it from us so to bear ourselves as
^^^^ we raised but one stem protest against all who differ in anything from us ; so as to set up the
&o4e)of our ehnrch, as if, forsooth, we disallowed the existence and aoeeptanoe of any other." —
" Xcrmoae;' Sttond Serin, by B, W. BamiUon, LL.D.
The length to which oar preceding remarks and extracts have extended, leaves us no
ni*tt for farther remark at present. We hope to conclude, in our next paper, all tbe
'&^aos which are needful for writing a pure prose style; meanwhile, we say again, hare
'•^ precepts ^ writ in your remembrance" and diligeutly reduced to practice.
** It was said by Charles XII. of Sweden, that he who was ignorant of the arithmetical
^*t WIS hot half a man. With how much greater force may a similar expression be
tppHed to hhn who carries to his grave the neglected and unprofitable seeds of faculties
^faich it depended on himself to have reared to maturity, and of which the fruits Imng
'^c^oQB to human happiness — more precious than all the gratifications which power and
V€alth can command." — Dugafd Stewart.
^yiho in the same given time can produce more than many others, has vigour; who
<^ produce more and better, has tatent ; who can produce what none else can, has
^w."— JL«ra/er.
408
WERB THE EFFECTS OF TOE CRUSADES FAVOURABLE TO THE
Bifitnq^
WERE THE EFFECTS OF THE CRUSADES FAVOURABLE TO THE
CIVILIZATION AND MORAL ELEVATION OF THE PEOPLE ?
AFFIBMATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
" Xor doth the mafltering voice
Of Nature cease nitbin to prompt aright
Tbeir steps ; nor is the care of heaven withheld
From sending to the toil external aid ;
That in their stations all may persevere
To climb the ascent of being, and approach
For ever nearer to the life divine."
Akensxde, " Ple€uure$ of the Imagination"
Ik glancing back through the volame of
the past history of our race, a thoughtful
observer cannot but feel that every page has
had its use — -'that it is a link in the chain of
progress, the destruction of which mars the
unity of the whole — which may, indeed, be
dark and discoloured, black with human
passions and human conflicts, but which yet
is ft necessary step in that gradual unfolding
and opening of the human mind which has
conducted us to our present state of re6nc-
ment and civilization. And this principle
of weighing well all the circumstances and
relations of an event, its bearings upon things
to come as well as things present, wo feel to
be especially necessary in sturveying the
darker scenes of history, which, with their
endless succession of battles, murdere, ma-
chinations, and general depravity, would
otherwise lead us to doubt whether there be
a divine Ruler, and by inference a divine
Maker, of the universe. Nothing, we think,
is more necessary to one who would read
history with profit, than a conviction that
every event, however apparently untoward,
has been productive of benefit to mankind,
and has, in the end, advanced their social
and individual well-hBing, although we, with
our short'sighted visions and imperfect fa-
culties, may be unable to trace the manner
how, or the means whereby.
On these grounds, then, had there existed
no other, I should feci obliged to difier from
G. N. and J. M. S. in condemning the Cru-
sades as detrimental to the general and final
welfare of the human family. That they
had quite a contrary effect there is strong
evidence to prove ; but, before adducing it, I
will briefly examine the nature of thtt in
which those gentlemen so confidently tnut.
G. N. and J. M. S. allege, as arguments
against the utility of the Crusades, that tluy
originated in error, in superstition, and no-
worthy motives ; that " they were carried «
at the most reckless expense of property sod
life;" that they ended in disaster, and ftSed
to accomplish the object with which they
were undertaken. But do these premiiefiif
well founded, prove that no advantage, or w
advantage equivalent to the disadvantaga^
sprung from the Crusades? If it wain-
perstition that originated them, it wai alM>
superstition against which they wen di-
rected. Mohammedanism is the very eaeoet
of superstition. And the conflict of emn
has been often the cause of the evolving d
tnith. Men, in this case, fought, it is tne^
for an empty shadow; but it is also true that
they soon learnt to regard it as soch-'to
regard the objects of their snperttitioM
veneration in a juster light. Hence tht
crusading spirit quickly died away^ ^
lasted long enough only to link the Etiropett
nations together by one moral bond, their
mutual Christianity.
But may not superstition in the end pi^
ducc good? The monks of the middle ag*
frequently imposed on themselves as a pe^*
anco the transcribing of the scriptsMk
Was this superstition or not? Yet it m*
probably the means, under Providence, d
the conservation of those scriptures, whidi
might otherwise have been inrecovenJilj ki^
to mankind. But the Cnu^des, we an toUy
" were carried on at the expense of taaA
blood and treasure." Were they tiereflfi
injurious to civilization and freedom? Thi
wars of Wellington in Spain were carried Mi
the battle of Waterloo was fought, at thi
expense of much blood and treason; hii
were they therefore ncceaaarily detrimieitil
to the dearest interests of Enrope? Thi
answer is phiin. Further, if the main otQMi
CITILIZATIOH A2n> UORAL ELBVATIOK OF THE PEOPLE ?
409
—
vhh which these expeditions were under-
taken, ra^ the reooreiy of the Holj Land
&om the hands of the infidels, tras wholly
^onrarthj of Bach giganUc efforts— <xf such
^ expenditare of blood and monej, as we
nut it was — ^it could not, sorelj, be inja-
rioos to Europe generall j tiiat tbey failed in
scccmpliahing t^ir object; and if thej ter-
^^liotM ia disaster to the indiridnals who
enkriced in them, they also, as I shall now
pnoeeed to show by a statement of their
^^ piodaced lasting benefits to millions,
W iinpioTing the condition of European
MJ<*tT.
^ first and most perceptible effect was
the exteoaiaa of commerce. After the series
of BushspB which the adTenturefs in the
^^ aad seeood Crusades had met with, the
Fradi and English, Gibbon telUi us, ** pre-
'ftnA the nsTigation of the Mediterranean ;'*
^ the Italian maritime cities, Venice,
<^ooa, md Pisa, furnished transports for
^ ctnreyanoe of their armies to Palestine,
^ likewise ^ provisioned them when arrived
^ the coast of Syria, and kept up their
tJaiannication with the West."* But these
f^tia did not wholly monopolise the benefits
r<s$nJtiag frnn commercial intercourse with
[^ Ewt. « The Crusaders, on their return,
-''^^lit with them from Asia to Europe spe-
c&eu of the productions of those strange
^ splendid regions; and the exhibitions of
nintza excited a general desire to possess
theiL Thus new wants were created, the
f?nt of commerce was awakened, and the
^^Tcmne which had been opened by the
^msades was, after the war, continued, in
< *>^n' to gratify the demands of the opnlent.'^t
Xezt we see as a result the increase of
P'^^cnal fieedonx. The petty feudal barons,
^^•UK wealth cffiisisted in the extent of their
-io^ snd the number of their villans, or
^^ and who needed money to enable them
'"^proceed to the Holy Land with a retinue
^tcd to thttr dignity, were often forced, in
'749 to raise the requisite sums, to sell their
-aait to their superior lord, or liberty to their
^7eL Every serf, likewise, who would
^-suae the cross was set at liberty. These
(^ases ** greatly diminished the number of
\^\tj fiefs and small domains — of inferior
* SbooDdTa " WaUnj of the Italian Bepub.
"^'^r in one voL, p. 99.
^ »«« dM Goixot, ** CiHUzation;* &e., toI. i.
fiefholders, — and they concentrated property
and power in a smaller number of hands;"*
and " thus," says Bobertson, ** in every state
there was formed a new order of citizens, to
whom commerce presented itself as their
proper object, and opened to them a certain
path to wealth and consideration." These
bnighers, forced to depend on their mutual
aid for safety, and on the products of then:
own labour and skill for sustenance, gra-
dually became the most powerful bulwarks
of ixidividual and national freedom. Op-
pressed and plundered by the barons when
beyond the protection of their own walls,
they eagerly received and sheltered any serfs
that fled to them for protection from the
t3rranny of their masters, for this strength-
ened their own party at the expense of the
enemy. To them kings and princes would
naturally look for aid against their too pow-
erful nobles — ^to them they would fly for
subsidies in time of war .with other nations,
and in return would grant them various im>
munities and privileges. Thus originated
the great towns and boroughs.
Thirdly, if we look at the Crusades in a
religious point of view, we cannot but con-
clude, however much to a superficial observer
they may appear to have forwarded the am-
bitious designs of the popes, that they were,
on the whole, favourable to. religious liberty,
to freedom of conscience, and to the eventual
emancipation of the human mind from the
thraldom of priestcraft and superstition.
For what first opened the eyes of Luther to
the enormities of the Roman system? Was
it not the sale of indulgences? And this
corruption, which originated in the time of
the Crusades, together with the crafty man-
ner in which the popes took advantage of
the religious enthusiasm which prevailed at
their commencement to extend their power —
"to bind the kings with chains, and the
nobles with fetters of iron" — had undoubtedly,
long previous to the time of Luther, opened
the eyes of millions to the grasping and am-
bitions designs of Borne. " Numbers of the
laity,** says Guizot, ** viewed her jwlicy and
manners, and could see how much of per-
sonal interest influenced religious controversy.
Doubtless this new knowledge inspired many
minds with a hardihood till then unknown."
Another, and by far the most important
* Guizou
410
WKRK THB KFFBCT8 Or TBB CRUOADSS FAVOURABLE TO TRK
effect produced, wms the general extension of
knowledge. Between the moral and intel-
lectual condition of the people of the eleventh
and that of the thirteenth oentnrf there ia a
wide interval. '^ Compare," lajs Goizot,
'* the contemporaneona ehroniclera of the fint
Cmsades with those of the twelfth and thir-
teenth centaries; for instance, Albert d'Aiz,
Bobert the Monk, and Bajroond d'Agiles,
who took part in the first Cmsade, with
William of Tyre and James de Vitry. When
we compare these two classes of writers, it
is impossible not to be stmck with the dis-
tance which separates them. The first are
animated chroniclers, fall of vivid imagina-
tion, who recount the events of the Crusade
with passion. But they are, at the same
time, men of verj narrow minds, without an
idea beyond the time in which they have
lived — strangers to all science, full of pre-
judice, and incapable of forming any judg-
ment whatever upon what passes around
them, or npon the events which they relate.
Open, on the contrary, the " History of the
Crusades" by William of Tyre; you will be
flurprised to find almost an historian of modem
times — a mind developed, extensive, and free
— a rare political understanding of events,
completeness of views, a judgment bearing
npon causes and effects. James da Vitry
affiirda an examine of a different kind ci
development; he is a scholar who not only
concerns himself with what has reference to
the Crusades, but also occupies himself with
manners, geography, ethnography, natural
history ; who observes and describes the
country. In a word, between the chroniclers
of the first Crusades and the historians of the
last there is an immense interval, which in-
dicates a veritable revolution in mind."
If, then, the advocate for the beneficial
influence of the Crusades be asked in which
of their numerous effects he disoovers that
influence, ' his answer is ready:-*" In pro-
moting commerce and intercourse between
nations; in bursting the bands of the op-
pressor and letting the oppressed go free ; in
sowing the seeds of the glorious lefomuttion
in religion; in awakening Europe from the
sleep of ages, to run the career of improve-
ment, until, in wealth, liberty, and intelli-
gence, she had left the ancient seat of learn-
ing and religion, the birthplaoe of the haman
race, far, far behind." F. J. L.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
If the human mind be susceptible of im-
provement undor circnmstances disadvan-
tageous to its own welfare->if it be possible
that any benefit can accrue to those who,
being unfortunately the victims of super-
stition and idolatry, are buffeted with the
acorn and derision of beings who profess to
be the disciples of a religion which teaches
us " to love our enemies," and " to do good
to them that hate us" — or if the surest and
simplest means of achieving a benevolent
and praiseworthy object be to appeal to the
malevolence and prejudice of those with whom
we have to deal, to oflfer violence to thdr
bodies, to set at nought the precepts of that
faith which they profess, and openly, whilst
giving assurance to the world of their good
intentions, to n^;ative them by onr acts —
then the sdvocates of the holy war have good
reason to congratulate themselves on the
position assumed by C. W., Jun., in the Sep-
tember number of this journal. But the
proofs which he adduces to establish the
tfntli of his argument by no means answer
the desired end. If the extracts quoted are
sufficient to substantiate the view taken by
him, then there is, at ooce, an end to the
discussion. In themselves they are mere
assertions; it therefore beoomes our duty to
see if they will agree with frets — to ascer-
tain if they are likely to agree with the data
which hiHtory has furnished, and whether
they were the causes of those favonimble
results to which our opponents refer. C. W.,
Jun., has merely contented himself with a
few extracts, affirming that the Crusades
promoted the oivilisatioa and moral well-
being of the people; but he forgot to explain
to his readers how such effiscta were possible,
when contrssted with the nuny baneful and
noxious influences which were generated by,
and attendant upon, all the Cmsades. 1
shall prefer dealmg even more ** liberally'
with the question than he has, and will en-
deavour to take a more extensive view oi the
whole subject. It must be admitted that
certain effects always follow from certain
causes; and, when it is considered that wars
on so gigantic a scale as those which we arv
now discussing most of necessity be prii>-
CnnUZATIOK AKD moral XUCYATIOZr OP THE PEOPLE?
411
• dnctire of modi good or eril, w« eao rmdilj
urirc tt something like tinth by making
Anelret Mqomiatad with the qaestioo in all
ita bnriogf, and drawing eoncloaions from
tiK (oitf emembk, witboat attributing en-
^nce to grmtoitoiis atsmnpiionSf which are
■ij mere anertiotts in themselves, without
f&t^o^ the reader anj chie hj which he
flttf ceek to form hia own opinion, inde-
pendently of the Tiewt of any author. If we
^UBuat the principal elements which were
^ work in the hdy wars — ^the motives whieh
OBpeDed the Crusaders to action — ^the pro-
^AiMis which they made, and how they were
ttmVd oat; and if we ascertain in what de-
Sn* 9f pneperity Europe stood both before
u<i tSttt the wars, not forgetting to see if
^ fndgl power was broken, whether the
^vws maintained inviolate their domineer-
'^Z tyranny over the serfs, and also whether
^ ^itrfj were benefited or not by the Cru-
■><)<«— it csnnot but be that we shall be able
te fefin onr own opinion on the result of the
CroMdeB.
Of ill wars, religious feuds are most to
^ Iimented and deplored; and this applies
^h doable force in the present instance. A
?t9]J« prolessing Christianity, acknowledging
^ SaTioor as their head, and his injunc-
^^ u their rule or standard by which to
Bcwre their conduct, formed themselves
icto tfot mass for the purpose of recovering,
P^ force, the seene of our Lord*s sufiferings,
&c^ io order that they might go thence and
^ laim homage, forgetful that he was " risen
s^ Vis not there,** and that a grateful heart
Babth every place a Jerusalem, where God
^ IS wdl and a« acceptably be worshipped,
^'tbrat prejudging the question, the nar-
^i« of these wars, whidi devastated Eu-
rope for two oentnrtes, destroyed the lives of
Bpvsrds of two millions of human beings,
^*>>te iavolviDg the destruction of an im-
aie&*^ amoiiDt of property, other than that
€f euHtary paraphernalia, &c., the genera-
t>% of those CTils which are attendant upon
^ van (and this, being a religious one,
<»}y aggrarated the evil, for then the worst
f«cHsp of our nature are aroused and brought
^0 play), besfidea the hindrances and im-
pedimenta which were created, and which
*^)ald neeesaarily retard the progress, not
nlj nf rivjIixatioD, but of commerce and the
Hvcatiou of the people; when, I say, all
t^Mse disiatroua and fiend'like calamities are
set before the reader, they afibrd a melan-
choly exempli 6cation of cruelty, treachery^
robbery, and an utter disregard of the sacred
character of human life. Let it be remem-
bered, too, that the Crusaders were, or pro-
fossed to be, Christians; and further — and
this seems anomalous, and the more irrecon-
cilable with the very doctrine which they
acknowledged — all this was perpetrated
against the infidels, a race whom we should
have supposed they would have endeavoured
to reclaim, if not by their religion, certainly
by humane and concillatoiy conduct — by
examples of meekness and kindness of spirit,
by benevolence and gentleness of temper and
intention.
But it will be seen by those best acquainted
with those portions of England's history that
the fraud, cruelty, and treachery which were
practised towards the heathen (besides the
divisions and dissensions which frequently
took place between the Christians) only
served to open the eyes of the infidels to the
real intentions of the former, to see them in
their true colours, to discern their hypocrisy,
to increase the animosity and hatred which
already existed, to widen the breach between
them, rendering further intercourse the more
improbable, and extended concessions impos-
sible. Granted, for argument's sake, that
their real intentions were pure — how miser-
ably carried out ! and if not pure, how
could good resull ? " By their fruits ye
shall know them. A good tree cannot bring
forth evil fruit, nor can a corrupt tree bring
forth good fruit." Yet, forsooth, according
to the argument of C. W., Jun., this em-
jdiatic declaration was falsified, and the
order of nature ** inverted." But enough of
prelnde. Now to an examination of the
question by historic testimony.
We will first institute an inquiry into the
question, whether the infidels were endanger-
ing the safety of Europe? Mill informs us
that '* no dangers hung over Christendom at
the time when the Crusades commenced.
But, as they (the Christians) had acquiesced
for ages in the existence of Islamism, they
could not afterwards draw the sword, except
for the purpose of preventing or repelling new
aggression."
The conduct of the Christians, and their
general character, is thus described by Ful-
ler : — *' These Hospitallers afterwards getting
wealth, unloosed themselves from the strict-
412
WERE TBS XFTBCTB OF TRX CBU8ADE8 FAVOUBABLB TO THB
ness of their first institation, and grew looee
into ail licentiousness. The Templars, to
whom the king prDmised the spoil if thej
took itf entered through this breach into the
city: they set a gnard at the breach, that no
more of their fellow-Christians should come
in to be sharers with them in the booty.** —
" Bnt the most remarkable chnrch matter in
this king's reign was the clandestine christen-
ing of a sultan of Iconimn. And more of his
courtiers might have followed him, bnt that
his ambassadors, being at Rome, were offended
with the viciousness of the Christians* liyes,
which made them to exclaim, * How can fresh
and salt water flow from the same fountain?*
This hath made many pagans step back
which had one foot in our chnrch, when they
saw Christians believe to icell and live to t^,
breaking the commandments against the
creed. ^ * King Almeric haying looked
on the beauty of the kingdom of Egypt,
longed for it; and now no longer to drive out
the relics of the Turks, but to get Egypt to
himself; and the next year, against the
solemn league with the caliph, invaded it
with a great army. He falsely pretended
that the caliph would make a private peace
with Noradin, king of the Turks, and hence
created his quarrel. An oath being the
highest appeal, perjury must needs be a
heinous sin, whereby God is solemnly invited
to be a witness of his own dishonour. I
know what is pleaded for King Almeric, viz.,
that Christians are not bound to keep faith
with idolaters. But open so wide a window,
and it will be in vain to shut any doors. All
contracts with the pagans may easily be
voided if this evasion be allowed. And God,
to acquit himself, knowing the Christians*
prosperity could not stand with his justice
after their peijury, frowned upon them.*'
— ** Yea, never could the chrittian religion
be shown to pagans to more ditetdvan-
tage, Greciant and LaHnt were at deadly
feud. Many among the Latins, Guelfii and
Ghibellines sought to ruin each other. Hu-
miBiy was preaehedf and pride practited ;
they pertuaded others to tabour for heavenf
and fell about earth themtehet ; their Uvet
fpere eontrarjf to their diocfrmeff, and their
doctrines one to another.** — ** Meladinf much
troubled with this loss, to purchase peace,
o£fered the Christians all Jerusalem, in as
ample a manner as ever formerly they had
enynfed \t-^\ priaonert to be reUated, with
a^rreo^JiimofHOirET to defray their charges, ,
and many other good conditions; so that we
may much wonder at his jpofiiseness, and
more at the Christians* indiscretion in their
refusal." — ''Next unto superstition, which
was deeply inlaid in the holy war, we may
make the Christians' peace hreakmg with
the infidels the second cause of their ill
success. When Godfrey first won Jerusalem,
pardon uhu proclaimed to all the Turks who
yielded themselves; yet, three days after-
wards, in cold blood, they were all, without
difierenoe of age or tex, put to the sword." —
**And how could safety itself save this
people, and bless this project, so blackly
blasted with perjury?"
Referring to the Christians falling out
amongst themselves, he says: — ^"Bnt these
civil wars amongst themselves were dan-
gerous, and destructive to religion."
Keighley (who views the wars favonrablr)
says: — "It is not our desire to exalt the
Mahometans at the expense of the Chris-
tians ; but these facts, all of whieh'are related
by the people themselves, testify strongly
for the degeneracy of the latter, and for
the benefit which the fall of their power vas
to the Holy Landy over which th^ were no
longer worthy to hold domimomJ*
Mill says: — **None of the principles
whidi originally caused the Crusades in-
fluenced the actions of dther." At the siege
of Acre, as well as at the old siege of Antiocb,
the morals of the holy warriors were as de-
praved as their condition was miserable.
The Crusaders were seemingly devout, but
in reality were diatohOef and comproiniMd
for personal excesses by pharieaicat terupri'
lotity and uncharitabknett.
The " Encyclopedia Londin«nsia " says :—
** The Christians neither could agree while
marching together in armies with a view to
conquest, nor could they unite their conquests
under one government after they had nia<!e
them. They were conikmalfy matimg war
upon one another,"
Their cruelty in war is eqoallj as revolt-
ing as their hypocritical ahow of devotion to
piety. The last-named writer says: — ** The
horrid cruelties they committed were tuth at
mMut have wupired the Turkt with the mttsi
invincihle haired of them, and made thtf%
reeitt with the greater obttinacy, Winn
Jerusalem was taken, not only were the och
I meroiu garrison pat to the sword, but tiM
CIYIUZATION AKD MORAL SLBVATIOSr OP THE PEOPUE ?
413
• inhabituiU were massacred tnthout mercy
or ^t^ncHon, No age nor ux was tpared^
2»r evm Mckmg ehiidren. According to
Voltaire, some Cliristjaos who had been saf-
M bj the Turks to liTe in that city, led
^ naqoerors into the most private caTes,
vbereiMmetihad concealed themselves with
thor ekildrett, and not one df them escaped.
^t ezoinentlj shows the enthusiasm by
viiich these eonqaerors were animated, is
tbdr hdutviomr after this terrible slaughter.
Thj marched over heaps of dead bodies
towards the iofy sepulchre ; and while their
^vidi were yet polluted with the blood of
^ffisoy innocent persons, they sung anthems
to t^ common Saviour of mankind ! ! ! "
Lio^ard says: — ^"The next was the last
iij fijDKi by the treaty. The hostages were
^ to the smmnit of a hill, in sight of the
Saracen csmp. The Cmsaders assembled in
c^wds to witness so glorious a spectacle,
sod at a given signal 2,700 infidels fell under
the svords of their hutchers. At the same
^6, an alraort equal number, the portion
vbicii bad fallen to the lot of the king of
Fnnee, was massaered under the walls of
^et^ by the troops under the Duke of Bur-
B^T. Out of 5,000 captives, only seten
^irs were saved, for the sake of exchange
^ rsnsom« Nor was this the end of the
ti^^y. The dead bodies were abandoned
to the insults of the soldiers, who cut them
('poi to disGorer the precious stones which it
*as believed they had swallowed, and care-
^^J i»«served Xh» gall for medicinal pur-
P»»I'' Thia is corroborated by Fuller: —
" Yea, in his anger Bichard commanded all
tbe Torkiah captives, 7,000 in number, to
be put to death (except some choice persons)
^ that day whereon the articles should have
beeo. but were not, performed ; for which fact
^ mfibred msich in his repttte, branded
^nsh rashness add eruettg^ as the murderer
<d many Christians^ for Saladin, in re-
tfnge, put as manff of our captives to death.
Oa the other hand, the moderation of the
^:neac& kinff was natch commended, who,
ruei'sing his prisoners aUve, exchanged them
ta raasom so many Cbrtstians" Keighley
as&noB ihe aame, and adds, " Thus, with
a ntasBacre which covered the king of Eng-
land and the Christians in general with dis-
grace, terminatad the siege of Acre." Mill
ttjs, respecting Edward, — " But he was not
less cru^l than any preceding hero of the
holy wars, and he gave a dreadful earnest
of that savage implacability which Scotland
afterwards so often rued. The barbarities
which stained the entry of the Christiana
into Jerusalem two centuries before were re-
peated, in a smaller theatre of cruelty, in Na-
zareth." Again : — " The conquest of the seat
of the Grecian empire was achieved, and the
triumphant barbarians had the choice of mercy
or revenge ; but the ferocity to which they
were indebted for success was not easily
extinguished, and they abandoned them-
selves to the usual vices of conquerors. The
scenes ofyema?«f'io/a<»on need not be described.
The palaces of the rich, and the meanest
houses of the poor, were explored for plunder
by the cruel diligence of the victors. Their
scurilegious hands tore away the ornaments
of churches, the coffins of the emperors were
broken open, and the mouldered imperial
vestments were stripped from the corpse of
Justinian. Their destruction of the rich and
beautiful church of Sophia would pass as an
ordinary circumstance in the history of sieges ;
but the annals of profanation have seldom
presented us with an instance of a vulgar
courtezan, the priestess of the furies, seating
herself in the chair of the patriarch, and
singing a bacchanalian song to the correspond-
ing actions of the surrounding soldiers and
mob. The Marquis of Montferrat and the
French and Venetian ecclesiastics prayed and
threatened their compuiions; but the voice
of reason and religion could not abate the
storm of the passions. Nothing was so dif-
ficult as to soften the ferocity of these bar-
barians and to gain their affections. They
were so irritable that a single word would
kindle the flame: it was folly to attempt
either to lead them or to make them hear
reason."
These examples might be multiplied, but
enough has been said on this part of the
question.
It is gratifying to observe that there were
in these barbarous days those who foresaw
that the Crusades would be demoralizing,
destructive to life and property, prejudicial
to good manners, and repugnant alike to
religion and common honesty. Mill says: —
** Though pilgrimages were generally con-
sidered acta of virtue, yet some of the leaders
of the church accounted them useless and
criminal. Gregory, bishop of Nice in the
fourth centnryi dissuades his flocks from
414
WESB THB XFFEOTB OF THB OBU8ADB8 FAVOURABLB TO THB
these joarneya. ' They were not conscientiauB
obliffatiorUf he Bud ; * for in the description
of persons whom Christ had promised to
acknowledge in the next world, the name of
pUffrm could not be foond/ A migratory
life was dangerous to Tirtae, particularly to
the modesty of women. Horror at spectacles
of vice would diminish with familiarity, and
the moral principle would gradoally be di-
minished. Malice, idoUtry, poisoning, and
bloodshed, disgraced Jerusalem itself; and
80 dreadfully polluted was the city, that if
any man wished to have a more than ordinary
spiritual communication with Christ, he had
better quit his earthly tabernacle at once,
than endeavour to enjoy it in places originally
sacred, but which bad since been defiled.
Some years after the time of Gregory a
similar description of the depravity of Jeru-
salem was given by St. Jerome, and the
Latin father commends a monk, who, though
a resident in Palestine, had but on one occa-
sion travelled in the city. The opinions of
these two venerable spiritual guides could
not stem the torrent of popular region. The
coffers of the church were enriched by the
sale of the relics, and the dominion of the
clergy became pownful in proportion to the
growth of religious abuses and corruption."
The general results of the Crusades are
thus summed up by the authors already
quoted; but, as I observed before, I give the
principal features of the wars, and it will be
for my readers to draw their own conclusions,
and to determine in their own minds whether
good or evil resulted from them. At the
same time, thtfiuile of the authors following
18 entitled to grave consideration, inasmuch
as the reasoning is consistent and concordant
with the facta of the case. Fuller, who is
favourably disposed towards the war, says,
" The French proverb was verified of this
voyage, ' Much bruit and little fruit.' They
(the Christians) not only did no good in the
Holy Land, but they did much harm. Thus,
alter one hundred and ninety-four years, ended
the war,for continuanoe the longest, for money
spent the oostlieat, for bk>odthed the cruellest,
for pretences the most pious, for the true in-
tent the most politic, the world ever saw."
Of the latter phrase let my readers judge.
Another writer (KeigUey), alike favour-
able, says :->" Though theCmaadea certainly
did not produce all the good imputed to them,
they may have produced some; and though
it is not just to defnive them of all redeem-
ing qualities, we must concede that they had
in them a sufficient alloy (tf evil to neutralize
much of their good." Whether the writer
be really sincere in adding that ^* it is not
just to deprive them of aU redeeming qoa-
lities" — whether it proceed from a deep con-
viction, evoked by a study of the wans
only, or whether he saya it out ni compli-
ment, I Cannot determine; but certainly the
latter appears to me to be the probable motiTC.
Lingard says: — " The only benefits which
the nation received in exchange for the im-
mense sums with which it had furnished the
king (EUchard) in his expedition to Palestine,
for lus ransom from captivity, and in support of
his wan in France, were two legislative char-
ters, me establishing uniformity of weights
throughout the land, the other relating to
wrecks, which provided that the cargoes of a
ship were recoverable if the sons or daughten
of the owner, or, in default, their brothers
and sisters, existed, in preference to the
crown."
The results of the holy war, as regards the
power of the feudal barona, the sfnritnal au-
thority of the clezgy, the progress of '* civil-
ization and moral well-being," and the general
eflfects on the times which followed, are thos
eloquently and cogently summed up by
Mill : — ^* The origin and historj of the ft*
natical and military enterprises, called the
Crusades, have been traced. No T«Ug\oiis
wars have ever been so long, so aanguinarr,
and so destructive. Countless boats of hoJy
warriors fell the victims of their own vin-
dictive enthusiasm and military ardour.
Fierceness and intoleranee were the stron|:e»t
features in the character of the dark ages.1
It was not for the convernon of people*} or!
the propagation of o{»n»»8,* but for th^j
redemption of the se^chre ef Christy ai>^
the destruction of the enemies of God, thaij
the crimson standard waa unfurled. Mecl
did not arm themselves from any coovictsckil
that the co-existence of Ghristcndooi am]
Islamism was incompatible with the dor^
trinea of the Koran, or that the oooatiies <^
the West would be precipitated into the guli
of destruction if Aria Miner were not tor^
from thehaoda of the Turks and revived to t'bl
emperor of GonstantiBopIe. Tho flood^atii
* How does this accord with U»o
C. W., Jim., that it was ** the
OTILIZATIOir AHD VOIUL SUBTATION OF THB P80PLK ?
415
ef fuAtictsDi wore unlocked fior the sayage
aod jaiqiutoai purpose of extenninatioQ.
''Tb qncfdoQ of the jnitioe of the holy
vmisoBeefeaejrnlatMiL TbeCraaaden
VCR not caUed upon 1^ faeaTen to outj on
^KWiiitieB agamst the M nunlmans. Ptlcs-
tioe did Dol of right beksog to the Christians
ifi waspgneBce oi aoj gift of God; and it
*» efideot, (torn the fad of the destmction
tf tlw Temple, that there was no longer any
pceaHtr aoctity in the gnand of Jernsalem.
^W is 00 eoniinand in scripture for Chris-
titti to Vnild the walls of the hoi j city, and
o» isomiN of aa earthly Canaan as the
^f^ of rirtoe. On principles of morals
ttd piiiitics, therefore, the holy wars cannot
^ jostified. If the Christians had been
JBimted hy the oonriction that war with all
tb« nwU was the Tital part of Christianity,
^ tiso a right of hoatility woold have
iaa niied (to the infidels). Bat, before
^ could hare been justified on this last-
aatttoDcd argument, proof is necessary that
t^ danger was imnunent, and that time and
Qitiottitaaees had not redoced the principle
^ « mere dry impetstlTe letter of the law.
* * * In tracing the history of Enrope
in iu progress finom ciTilization to refine>
^<^ and in aoooianting for the ▼ariona phe-
^vseiui of the moral world, the philosophical
^Tfix of man reverts with anziona serious-
>^Bs to the Crusades of the Latins in the
^^ Thcae transmarine expeditions so
^fl^ oooTulsed the moral fabric of the
^^ they stmd «o prominent in the picture
^"^ fsnoer ages, that curiosity is awakened
*^ber they left some lasting impression of
?'*^ or eriL In the two hundred years of
ti:«ir eoutiBuaoce Europe was making slow
aod aikot advunees in arts and civilization,
^ there were great changes of scene in
^ poiitieal theatre. Viewing, then, the
lateral union between principle and event,
isd, guarding oarsdves against the error of
c.«&iaadxag chivnologieal ooinddences with
|>^^ eoBuczioDST the inquiry is to be made
^^^ the eoDSP^oenccs of the holy wars. A
■^•nip of pcnBuneney was fixed on popular
^pentitiott when pilgrimages became a
^^i*ttti of jMiblie cencem and national in-
^^THt. These rsUgioas journeys were only
^ossistent with the ehrisCiaa character when
^ were f)eifi»iiisd in harmony with great
ts4 primaxy dotses. They might have been
BcoA^dcred the omammta of a leligioas lile
if they had proceeded from holy sympathy;
but, when their essential merit was made to
consist in the destruction of men and tramp-
ling on the law of nations, their natural
tendency was to indurate the heart and bru-
talixe the character. The fair face of religion
became besmeared with blood, and heavenly
attraction was changed for demoniacal re-
pnlsiveness. The Crusades encouraged the
most horrible violences of fanaticism, and the
precedent for the military contentions of the
church with the Pmssiaosand the Albigenses ;
and, as the execrable Inquisition arose out of
the spirit of clerical dragooning, the wars
in Palestine brought a frightful calamity on
the world. The pastors of the church used
anathemas, excommunications, interdicts, and
every weapon in their storehouse of spiritual
artillery; and, when the world was in arms
for the purpose of destroying infidels, it was
natural that the soldiers of God should turn
aside and chastise other foes to the true
religion. When offences were commuted for
money, the rdiigious application of the price
of pardon soon ceased to be necessary. Ab-
solutions from penance became a matter of
traffic, and holy virtues were discountenanced.
* * Undoubtedly, the Crusades augmented
the wealth of the clergy. The rapacious
barons frequently plnnderod the clergy; and
when, afterwards, they were brought to such
a sense of religion as to resolve on a holy war,
the restitution of ecclesiastical property be-
came a necessary preliminary proceaiing.
The ecclesiastics flourished m<n« vigorously
than any other men; they took a high rank
in society, and purchased the birthrights of
rash, fieiy enthusiasts, who tried the hazard
of fortune in the Holy Land." After stating
that Europe, had she enjoyed peace during
the temporary absence of the great mass <^
her peo^e, it was " because the horrors of
civil war were stayed," he proceeds to add —
" But afterwards civil and national hostilities
raged with imoeasing and unrelenting fury ;
and, moreover, the spirit of the Crusades
fanned the flame of military daring." Re-
ferring to the chann in the expression, "days
of chivalry," and the suggestion that chi-
valry "dissipated a cloud of ignohle passions,
and transports itself (that is, the &ncy) to
those remotest ages, which it gilds with the
virtues of honour sod courtesy, he proceeds
to say : — " On the fiur part of ancient war-
£ure the Crusades casta baneful influence.
416
WERE THE EFFECTS OF THE CRUSADES FAV0URABU5 TO THE
That tenacious and delicate regard to veracity,
which was a great characteristic of the tme
knight, most have lost mach of its sensitive-
ness bj the babitnal and systematic viola-
tions of faith with infidels. A liberal treat-
ment of prisoners was another remarkable
point in the chivalric character. So firm
was the trust of cavaliers in each other's
honour, that it was common for a victorious
knight to suffer his captive to return to his
own country in order to collect his ransom;
but (in Asia) bigotry and cruelty were the
ruling passions of holy warriors. The sol-
diers of the cross had all the heroism, but
none of the polish, of knight-errantry; and
the sword leapt from the scabbard, not for
the generous purpose of avenging the looks
which threatened beauty with insult, but
for the vile and rude office of striking off a
Saracen's head. ♦ ♦ ♦ We are un-
accustomed to think that the national and
civil hostilities which raged in the West
during the middle ages were favourable to
intellectual cultivation, and it would be as
difficult to prove that the holy wars were
beneficial to Europe, by rousing it from in-
tellectual torpidity and strengthening or
refining the tone of mind. They were times
of action rather than of letters. They ex-
cited a cruel and savage cruelty, and lighted
the consuming fires of superstition. Spolia-
tion and slaughter were accounted the highest
pitch of human glory, and therefore all that
most merited fame was in silence hid. Modes
for their destruction, not for their ameliora-
tion, occupied the minds of the Christians.
The humble and unobtrusive virtues of peace,
and their long train of useful and elegant
arts, were not fostered, for tranquillity was
perpetually broken in upon; the leaders of
opinion made the duty of war their greatest
theme; and, when the indulgence of their
ferocious passions became sanctified, no
desire could be felt to emerge from rude-
ness and ignorance. Much has been written
on the supposed advantages to Europe of the
collision of minds produced by the mixture
of the various nations of Christendom in the
course of the Crusades. The connexion
between different states was so short and
occasional that national prejudices were not
softened, political varieties obliterated, or
mutual knowledge interchanged. At the
close of the Crusades the nations of Europe
were as much leparated at they had been at
the commencement. Religion had unitec
them for a while, but the bond soon wa:
broken, and the worid returned to its formei
state. But, if the pilgrim ever steps out u
his course, it is only to collect with hoi;
reverence those relics which his idolatroo:
fancy has sanctified; and the mere soldie
can imbibe no ideas except those which an
connected with his professbnal habits. Tbi
letters that enlighten, the scicnoea that im
prove, and the arts that polish life, are noi
in the intellectual sphere of either. * *
'* The last point of inqniry into the oon&e
quences of the holy war concerns thdr effect
on the political relations of the great Europeai
states. As the Crusades were carried on fo:
holy objects, not for civil or national vnds
their connexion with politics could only haT<
been collateral and indirect The sjarit o
crusading, composed as it was of anperstitioi
and military ardour, was hostile to the ad
vancement of knowledge and liberty, am!
consequently, no improvement in the du
condition of the kingdoms of the West coali
have been the legitimate issne of the pria
ciples of the holy war. Great changes i:
the political aspect of Europe were cocv^
with, but were not occasioned by, the hA\
war. The power of the French crown tn
much higher at the end of the thirU^nth
than it had been at the same period of tl
eleventh century; but the inflaence of xh
imperial throne was materially depres>cl
These opposite effects could never have Ik^
the results of the same cause, via., the 1*^
of the flower of the western aristocracv ;,
Palestine. The pusillanimous Jolm assuiiu
the cross ; but the circumstance did not oit a
till after he had surrendered his crown t
the papal see, and until the barons la
formed a confederacy against him.**
After stating that the great politici
event of the thirteenth century was tl
establishment of free and corporate towoe^
that this was not owing to the Cmsadet^
he sa^ : — " Whenever any part of the pi
became more rich and enlightened thaji
rest, the tyranny of the aristocncy
found to be insupportable. The kio|
France and England eageriy asabted
burghers of their respective countries,
eofnmchised the towns in order to rai^
barrier against baronial aggressioos on
throne. After various vidssitndcs of
tuns, the battle of Legosno sad the
dTIUZATIOSr AXTD 3I0RAL F.LEVATIOX OF THE PEOPLE ?
417
CoDsttDce established the independence of
Ha Unrni m the north of lUlj. The Cru-
Mda did not contribute to those events, for
tht two sacred expeditions wliich had taken
pbeewere as disastrons to peasants as to
jrioees, and drained Europe of all ranks of
Hoetj; cunsequeutlj, it was not from tlic
^J wan that the pcojtle gained their
Kiwties. We find that, so ill ref^nlated
^ the libertj of the towns alluded to,
oucfaj so(Hi snccocded. Men of personal
inportance and wealth aspired to sovereippi
knmrs, an oTcrwhelminj? aristocracy eztin-
{oiibftl freedom, and at the end of the thir-
teesth ceotnrj there were an many princes in
Tocuj and Lombardj as there had been
fite towns at the end of the twelfth."
Xjtatk is now completed. I baye traced
tiieriK, progress, and tonnination of the war.
vd have exhibited the Christian»' professed
l3d actoal conduct. As the tout ensnnbfe
bd an influence for good or evil, taking into
OBBiidflratioQ the immense sacrifice of life
*>d property, the impediments created to
ftninerce, civilization, and Christianity, the
tQiDberless evils generated, and the consc-
fmt barrier thus raised against progress —
tire inch effects likely to assist the moral
^dl-being of the people? or were do;rrada-
^ misery, and disgrace more probable?
If By readers ahould possibly assume that
tht former be correct, it would be well to
of&ire if such good results followed as a
ttml consequence from the holy war, or
riMther they were collateral or indirect? if
jie latter, then the affirmative of this ques-
UB cannot with justice be maintained, for
Ki npp(Hter8 will hardly venture to contend
Uft their position is tenable when the good
I neiely accidental, and when it will not
Jwiyi flow firom the same circumstances and
m the same springs of action. In dealing
Ins ''liberally" with this question, it will
I seen that I have preferred to lay the
■era] iacta and historical data of the Cru-
kdn before my readers, and thus enable
■cm to form their own conclusions. By
'^amtAng the conduct of the Christians, the
otiTm which impelled them to act in cou-
rt^ as well as by tracing their ruling pas-
OB and marking their diplomacy, a correct
aaon may be arrived at. For my own
ity I coRaider it derogatory to truth and
j«od lenie to place particuUu* credence
n mere qnotatioos, in which certain eflects
are merely asserteil, tcithoiit making a com-
jtnrlson brtircen the actual Jactt and assunud
ctnutq'tenc^s. It is too much the fa:ihion,
as Dry den says, to take on trust the evidence
of historians, without marchUhg for oursth^s
in order to ascertain tho probability of cer-
tain influences.
Speaking on my own behalf, the contem-
plation of the holy wars is serious and in-
structive. It aflbrds ample illustration to
future generations of the utter fully of war
being considered as a boon, or even as the
arbiter of disputes. The holy war originated
in a siij^enttitious reverence for relics, both
of lucality and the seemingly less important
urticlij-s of bones, cluthes, W(xkI,&c. Although
it would bo unjust to deny that many engaged
in the warfare who were prompte<l by
pious and holy feelings, yet the extracts
show that a lovo for militar}' glnry, in com-
bination with a despicable hatred of the
infidels, animated the great mass of the Cru-
saders. Cruelty and bloodshed frequently
stained their banners, when it would have
been more christian and hnmano to have
spared the defeated. They pursued a course
which was detrimental to their own interest,
repugnant to religion, revolting to humanity,
and lamentably discreditable to Christen-
dom in its consequences. They imbrued
their hands in innocent blooil, and then called
upon Ciod to bless and countenance the bloody
deed. Whilst professing to adorn the "gos-
pel of God their Saviour in all things," whilst
preaching and commending christian virtues
and duties, they outwardly showed an utter
disregard for morality and decency, and,
under the guise of hypocrisy, |>erpetrated the
most cruel and reprehensible acts. That
such conduct could have any intiuenco but
for evil on the infidels there can be no doubt,
and the entire loss of the Holy Laud is, per-
haps, the most pregnant illustration of their
dissolute conduct, and was a just retribution
as well as a warning to future generations of
the folly and madness of proclaiming, but not
acting in unison with the dictates of Chris-
tianity. It cannot but be natural to sup-
]X).\e that a continental people, or a combi-
uation of profvs^ing Chri^itians, visiting, for
religious purposes, a foreign country whose
inhabitants were infidels, would have their
characters examined and a comparison insti-
tuted between their creed and conduct; nor
i& it less natural to surmise that the Chru-
2k
418 WERE THE BWECIS OV THE CBCBAOIS FAVOUBABUI TO CITIUZATXOS ?
tiaoB would be m eager in Mug eirciUB-
•pect aod deliberate in tbeir oeodnct as
the infidds ia gratifying their cnrioBtj.
Bat it was not so in this caae; oonae-
qaentty the immorality and licentiooancaa
which the Cbriatians imported into Asa were
not very creditable to the chiiatian religion.
Christianity was blighted by its own profes-
sors, and the very nnfarovrable eonisast
which exiated between the two only served
to render the former more ooDtcmptible in
the ey^s of the worlds end the latter less
worthy of respect and admiration.
A short comment en the eonckiding re-
marks of C. W^ JmL, and I close, craving
the paidon of my readers for this lengthened
psper. He haa certainly avoided a difficnlty
which he coald hardly solve, when he says,
** It would answer the present inquiry simply
to show tliat in the end no real luurm ensnd.
Bot we prefer to deal liherulh with the
qnestioD.** As if discovering (in his own
mind) that this conid not possibly be snb-
stantiated, he cooUy takes it for granted
that his readers are aware of the ciicvm-
stance " that in the end no real harm en-
sued," and thus very discrtetly avoids enter-
ing into a topic, the diacnsaion of which
would involve him in the **hoin8 of a di-
lemma," which would eventually expose the
weakness of his argument, the &llaey of
which he is oonscioas,aad hai not the oounge
to avow. And, as if viewing with deririve
acorn the feelings of those who revok at
cmdty, he says: — ^''Lastly, there are those
who become so completely absorbed in the
eontemplation of the horror and misery which
naturally attended such perilous expeditions
theft they entirely overlook the fimd result.
* Look,' say they, * at the immense sacrifice
of human life I See the immense araoont of
ptoptfty, and the consequent amount of
misery and deatitntion which must have fol-
lowed!"* And, ss an apology for this, he
makes the following nnblnabung ezdamft-
tion: — *^ Remember, reader, however much
yon may deplore the &et, Umt in the ctri j
pt-ogtess of Kuopean civUiiatioB and liberty
you have the din and bovrer of war ever
ringing in your ears." Is this any jostifici-
tien far the eondoct of the Chrutiaas? or
are we to sit dosm, poneolM with the fact,
that because, **in the eaiiy progress of
European civiEuttion we have the din and
honor of war ever ringing in our ears,* we
must excuse the Christians on the same
score? Is this the plea set up ftr forgive-
ness, or sn we, fbnoeth, te accept C. W.,
Junior*s doctrine of justification? Are yn
still to continne coBfirming the eM adage,
that *'Uke begets like;" or, beeawe I knock
C. W., Jun., down, is that any justifiable
reason why he should act aimilariy to me?
Away with such arguments; no apology can
be accepted for deeds done in cold blood,
and when the blessing of the Almighty wss
invoked en such enulty. I can take ioto
consideralion the character of the times;
nevertheless, diristian charity and forbear-
ance were well vnderstood eves at thai
period. ** They that take the aword shalj
perish by the sword;" and most nssuredly
ss the Christians were the fbst to appeal t
that weapon, this solemn though emphatic
declaration was fulfilled agaiont ihtm \\
aU ita severity. They tranafeimeJ benero
lent filing inte forioBS and «itn<iw;«<>ji pas
siens; but
*' Thej eiT who count it gk
By conquest, fkr and wide— to overrun
Large oottntriea, and in fields great banle»v'c
Great dties by MMuh. Wbai £> those wonkM
But rob and b^, bwn, slaiwbtor^and wmimi
Peaceable nations, neighbounns or rtmotei
Made captive, yet deserving freeooan more
Than those their oooqacroni, who Umve brkii
Nothing but nUn whcresoo'er ttioy two.
And all th« flooriahhig wocka of pert drttmi
Milton'
Gentlemen of the Jury, — ^Wlnt sar Tt>a
the Crusades? J.'g'.R.
Phikisophers have puziled themselves how to define man, so as to distiagm^ \
from other animals. Burke say a, "• Man is an animal that cooks his victnalto •» •• Hu
says Dr. Johnson, ** tho proverb is just, * Then is reason in roasting eggs.*" Dr. Ad
Smith has hit this case. *" Man," says he, "* is an animal that makes baxgainn : no ot
anunal does this. One dog does not change a bone with another."
Ofram xatxye propuce and industrt to be photected?
41»
^nlititj.
OUGHT NATIVE PRODUCE AND INDUSTRY TO BE PROTECTED BY
LEGISLATIVE ENACTMENTS ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
h these dajs <^ bold speculation and ex-
teadre enterprise, when charts of the world
vt as familiar as conntj maps, and science
ptmudes the distant hemispheres to fellow-
^ we must not examine questions of uni-
^inal interest in the manner of old ladies
fMriog through spectacles. Free trade and
intKtioD are not peculiar terms of English
F^nieologj ; thej express ideas which interest
nay nation npoo earth ; and if we think that
hf adoding from oar diacoorse all reference
U foragi inflnenoes we can secret Iv mono-
ptGxe the advantages of commerce, we shall
Ininitlj learn that there is an experience
«B nch Diatten wider than that of the pUt-
fm. The best precaution against decept ion
io tlweoDsideration of fundamental questions
tf iBpQrtanoe, is a simple and comprehensive
tBudnatko. Arguments held in a comer
*boit intricate trifles perplex the mind:
Hfhutry is never so successful as when it
bfegles an opponent into minute discussion.
h frier to avoid such danger, we push our
*iv thnmgh conflicting statistics to seek
woKDtaxj truth.
Wealth consists of the produce of the
Vth, gathered, combined, and cultivated
^ As iadnstrf and ingenuity of man. The
*wait of the produce is proportioned to the
fcrtilitj of the source and the expenditure of
liUar and skill. Those communities are the
iBort vttltfaj which, favoured bj local ad-
Vttta|«s, exercise an incessant industry,
■tnogtheoed and guided bj science. There
^ indeed, instances in which entire popu-
Jitisos are deprived of their due recompense
^ the oppression of power or the cunning of
i^aior knowledge, but these are accidental
txeeptiflos, opposed to the tendency of the
Wnal system; thej will disappear at the
^ipnadi of liberty and enlightenment, and
lA not be ad<^ed in debate bj those who
I to the aggrandizement of domi-
is no political district of the globe
rUch cm fnrnirii, from its own territory,
all the necessaries of civilized life. The
most favoured ref*ion must seek the luxuries
of commerce. The whole world is thus CMi-
nected by one interest, for since the universal
produce is destined to a universal distribu-
tion, the general prosperitj is identical with
individual gain. Every circumstance, there-
fore, which tends to enrich the human familj,
deserves the approbation of the constituent
members. Under a wolUdirccted cultivation
the bounty of the eartli is adequate to satisfy
a high civilization diffused through every
continent. The greediness of protection im-
plies a distrust of this providential goodness.
It implies a selfish rapacity to appropriate
a choice abundance, lest the horn of plenty
shonld be prematurely exhausted. Hence
arrives the absurd and iniquitous doctrine^
at the root of every protectionist system, that
Providence annually throws a scanty handful
upon the earth, which is to be scrambled for,
the prize of the most knowing and most
powerful. Then follows the equally absurd
corollary, that a nation is not happy in the
possession of suflicicncy while a neighbour
flaunts in superfluity. Despising the fears
of such extravagant husbandry, which would
allow a whole continent to lie fallow, let us
^0 on to consider in what manner the pro-
ductiveness of all lands may be increased for
tlic profit of all people.
Tho cultivation of natural advantages by
communities corresponds to the division of
labour among individuals. The same familiar
arguments establish the efficacy of both.
Resources are economized, perfection is at-
tained, and production multiplied. There
are few regions so destitute as not to furnish
some staple peculiarity for the market of the
world. Where the soil is barren, the mines
may be rich, the waters prolific, the situation
favourable, or the inhabitAUts persevering.
The sterility of the ground may be ccnnpen-
sated by ingenuity of mind ; or, sometimes,
fortune, enticed by accident, may be estab-
lished by the precedent of custom. At least,
420
OUGHT NATIVX PRODUCE AMD CTDUSTRT TO BE PROTECTED
it 18 the ivisest policy of mankind to en-
courage the product ion of useful articles in
the bands to which they are indigenous, or
in which they attain indisputable superiority,
rather than by clumsy expedients to attempt
to supersede them. A large and steady de-
mand for any commodity tends to the im-
proTement of its quality and the reduction of
its price ; and whether it is advantageous to
obtain things plentiful, cheap, and good from
the distance of our planet's diameter, in pre-
ference to the dear and villainous substitute
of the shop round the comer, may be safely
left to the decision of an old-fashioned house-
wife. Countries rich by nature, whose in-
habitants can think hard and work hard,
will support their pre-eminence with ease,
and obtain the luzuiies of every climate, in
exchange for their coveted goods. Countries
poorly endowed will gladly purchase, at a
low price, the commodity they despaired of
obtaining until the genius of commerce
brought it to their shore. The entire world
— ^those who sell and those who buy — will
mutually benefit; not, as simple folks believe,
at the expense of one another, but at the ex-
pense, so to speak, of the all-giving earth,
stimulated to new generosity at the prayer of
industry.
Against the promising simplicity of this
scheme patriotism erects itself, exclaiming
that native industiy will be annihilated and
the country ruined. How a country can be
ruined by buying cheap instead of dear goods
is somewhat paiudoxiad, since the difference
in price is a clear profit on every item of
purchase; or how a country whose industry
is annihilated, can gather enough money to
pay for foreign importations, throws suspicion
upon its honour. Commerce is the very em-
bodiment oi quid pro quo: there must be an
error in the patriotic argument, since it
reduces itself to an absurdity.
Foreign competition can scarcely destroy
native industry in its own home, unless there
be such an original disproportion in the
capacity of the rivals as to make the victory
of the foreigner an advantage to them both.
Host countries, as we premised, have pre-
tensions to superiority in one or more pro-
ductions which should form the substratum
of their merchandize. Many of the neces-
saries of life, and articles of minor consump-
tion, are produced with such equability of
cost throughout the world, that the attempt
to supplant native industry would be vsm.
Further, convenience, the influence of h&bit,
and even pride, will retrieve the slightly
fallen balance, and give to home-made goods,
though a little extravagant, a preference over
the goods of the stranger. From these causes
foreign competition will not permanently
prevail, except upon terms too advantageoas
for the purchaser to grumble. The defeated
native had, perhaps, been accustomed to ex-
orbitant profits, and deserves his fate : other-
wise he must economize, employ more skill,
take advantage of the benefits which a con-
sistent free trade opportunely offers to him-
self, and, if these endeavours should fail
(which experience declares they seldom hsTe
done), he must transfer his capital to another
occupation; at any rate, his individual mis-
fortunes, retrieved or hopeless, must not
taunt with injustice the thousands who have
gained by the discomfiture of his domestic
monopoly.
The patriot, again, objects that firee trade
may place a country at the mercy of an
enemy for the supply of its subsistence or
the materials of its manufacture. Bat it
must be borne in mind that free trade, when
its success shall have been practically demon-
strated, will make converts. Universal free
trade will place every nation in one categorr;
the same terror will hang over every head
and persuade a reconciliation. The extrt?me
supposition requires the correspondence cf
extreme circumstances. A country would
seldom be embroiled with the four quarters
at once; what an enemy refused, a fneni
might supply; and, finally, we recur to our
assertion, that the cost of the production of
staple food, when at its natural level, doe&
not vary sufficiently to induce the belief tb^
populous nations will ever trust their sub-
sistence wholly to foreign supplies. Xcr^
while war continues a probability amon^
mankmd, is it likely that ministers of ira<
will place the national commissariat in sucl]
jeopardy.
Protection starts with the assumption thai
there are no houses in the street bat its o^«i\
It overlooks the political axiom, that com
merce is mutual, and will flourish only wnil^
advantage is reciprocal It is a gresit sel£>i
error, which excites vexatious recriininativn
yet hopes, by a well-contrived tarifiT, to orer
reach its neighbours. The faUity of h
principles is apparent from the co&sxdcratiui
BT LEGISLATIVB ENACTMENTS?
421
tbt tiie piwpeioofl thrive at the expense of
tttt Qofortimate. The quantities of the
equ^n are simply shifted from minus to
phu, (nm plus to mhttu. Protection is waste-
toi; for what is the essential operation of any
Bodoe tax bat to diyert capital from its on-
fpa\ bnsj destination, to place it in the idle
bnds of wasteful governments, fine gentle-
BKii, asd luxurious monopolists? Whatever
tax is not expended upon objects of utility,
is, in the view of political economy, so much
^ver thrown away. Protection, in the ab-
atnct, is a sham, which presumes to have
ixassied wealth because it has concentrated
it in heaps. These heaps want to be scat-
tered; there can be only partial germination
til the sun of free trade sheds its warmth
^ipoQ every atom.
Tbe article of correspondent A., to the
saiprite of the reader, resolves itself into oue
»rmteat — ^that the English people, possess-
is? indnstry and an inquiring spirit, being
^ed for untiring toU, and assisted by
isreotions, require the farther protection of
i^ciaiative enactments. This is an honest
Joho Bull blunder of a past age. It belongs
&> the era of the French war, King George,
a&i top boots. Correspondent A. must have
Allien asleep when the policy of Pitt led the
BatiiSD to ruin, from which it was saved by
eitnordinary rtsonroes developed by the
accideats of science. He wakes in the days
«f the policy of Peel ; he beholds unexampled
▼ealth, more equitably distributed, dominion
«ztfl^ed, and power consolidated. The in-
terral has elapsed in unconscious slumber;
he attributes tbe consequences of to- day to
t^ antecedents of fifty years ago. While he
tu ftkpt, a great change has afiected social
iastitBtians asd national relations. Opinions
i^rre adapted themselves to the altered cir-
vionstanees ; the world looks forward, and
s«^ hindwanl as it used to do, and pursues
<^stisy, instead of bdog driven by it. Among
<>th«r speculations, an opinion is abroad that
Bstioaahiy is a remnant of barbarism, which,
baring botowed its rude benefits upon the
^orld, most accept the gratitude accorded
by philosophical historians to the Crusades
and the feudal system. It has been discovered
that nations, like the Olympic charioteers,
endanger their own safety by malignant
rivalry upon a narrow road. These opinions
are yet in the bud, but they are quickly ex-
panding beneath the breath of an irresistible
experience. In England, at least, the old
yeoman superstition, " Let us first be English-
men," is receding before the faith that wo
are first human beings. Manchester spinners,
on the brink of starvation, cling to common
sense, and leave to the ridiculous three de-
scribed in the fourth letter of the Citizen
of the World, the honours of patriotism.
When the time shall have come that the
whole inhabitants of the globe, like a cordial
family, shall reciprocate the scattered bless-
ings of Providence, in the fulness of universal
prosperity, how insignificant will appear the
antiquated claims of national pre-eminence I
Who, when the feast is at its height, regards
the quaint armour that embellishes the con-
vivial hall? The greatness and the happi-
ness of a people are not correlatives. Xo
sober-minded roan believes it; but the pro-
tectionist legislator generously assumes the
responsibility of starving a kingdom for tbe
sake of making it *' loved at home, revered
abroad." With what result, let the* past
history of the people declare.
In this brief exposition of our opinion
we have rested the claims of free trade upon
the broad principle of fellowship. Unity is
strength as well in peaceful as in warlike
transactions. We are aware of the excuses
which are suggested by the discordant aspect
of the world. But the apparent disunion of
governments must not be mistaken for want
of sympathy among the people. Besides,
free trade is young; the demonstration of its
benefits, even upon a partial trial, is limited
to the experience of a few countries. Let a
full development discover its worth; and if
some governments are obstinately blind to
conviction, let the system be mutual among
wise nations, to the qualified exclusion of
the xmsociable and selfish. H. T.
Amosg the political questions which have
of \iie years agitated the land, none has been
arjK obstinatdy debated than the propriety
ii X change in oor lata commercial policy.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
The previous questions which had engrossed
the national attention — Catholic Emancipa-
tion and the Reform Bill — had for their object
the granting of legislative power to classes
422
OUGHT XATTVB PBODUCE AND ISDU8TRT TO BB PBOTECTBD ?
hitherto QDenfranehiaed, and the cooMquent
diminatioo of the influeuoe of those who were
formerly its sole possessors. With such
prizes at stake, it caaoot be wondered at that
the contest was vigorous and protracted; but,
on the question of protection, no motives were
avowed which eoold account for the tenacity
and zeal with which it was attacked and
«lefended. A philanthropical motive — the
wish to provide cheap food for the poor —
was the only inscription on the banner of
free trade. It may, pwhaps, be unchari-
table to suspect that the real motive of the
agitators was the same as in the other poli-
tical oontesta— the elevation of themselves
and their order by the depression of the
landed aristocracy ; but it certainly does
seem strange that men belonging to a class
not celebrated for tenderness or oonsideratitm
for their subordinates, should have been in-
duced, by their benevolent feelings alone, to
spend thousands of pounds in procuring cheap
food for their poorer neighbours. But as, of
course, the right or wrong of any qnesti<»i
must be dedded on its own merits, without
regard to the motives of its assailants and
defenders, I shall now endeavour to prove
that protection in England was both just
and expedient.
And, first, as to its justice. It is, ob-
viously, the duty of evexy community to see
that each of its citizens, with regard to com-
mercial advantages, shall be placed on at
least equal tenns with foreigners, and that
no class shall be depressed for the sake of a
momentary advantage to the rest of tbeir
fellow- Qountiymen. To be just, protection
must be proved to be in accordance with
these principles. In a new and lately-settled
country, whatever restrains the freedom of
trade is injurious. The taxes being gene-
rally insignificant, and the population scanty,
any protective duty can only cause capital
and labour to be (tiverted from their legiti-
mate channels. But in an old-established,
populous, and wealthy state, where taxes
are high, living costly, and profits reduced
by competition to a very small per centage,
there will always be abundance of capital
and labour for every prudent speculation;
and it then becomes necessary for the go-
Ternment to interfere to prevent the lightly -
taxed and cheaply-paid foreigner from under-
selling the heavily-burdened native producer.
Though this may increase the price of the
article protected, yet it is no robbery of the
many for the benefit of the few; it is merdj
a means to prevent those burdens which
should be borne by all from weighing too
heavily upon those whom their pressure has
disabled from competing on equal tcnns
with strangers.
When we consider the causes of the decline
and fall of most commercial states, I think
the expediency of protection will be as en-
dent as its justice. They have generally
been — the destruction of the smaUer capi-
talists, the proximity of great wealth to great
poverty, and the preponderance of the com-
merci^ over the territorial interest. Pro-
tection to every branch of native industry is
an antidote to the first two of these evils; to
the last the duty on foreign com a£K)rd8 a
check. By protecting the smaller mana-
factures in this country, the glovers, the
bootmakers, the hatters, &C., we are both
rescuing an honest and respectable set of
men from poverty, and preventing the ab-
sorption of the small capitals employed in
these trades into the hoards of the mill-
owner. If, however, by the admission of
low-priced foreign goods, we destroy this
middle class, we do not benefit the working
class. Food and clothes may, indeed, be
cheap, but wages will be cheap also. The
hands formerly employed in these mined •
trades being throwu on the labour market,
naturally lower the rate of remuneration, \SX
it reaches the lowest sum on which starva-
tion can be prevented. It may be said that
free trade opens out fresh markets, and
thus, by giving additional employment, keeps
up the price of labour. This might be true
if all nations consented to adopt free^tntie
principles; but we do not find that onr
adoption of them has induced others to
imitate our example. We fancy, because
we are a commercial nation, that the great
ambition of foreigners is to exchange their
com, cattle, brandy, and wine, for our calico
goods and broad-cloth. But we are mis-
taken, especially as to the continental power?.
France, for instance, would not give up \be
hope of revenging Waterloo and the double
occupation of Paris for any commercial ad-
vantages we could offer her. Free tra«i« *.*
not the cause of our present prosperity :^ it
has not opened to us a single market whicii
we did not possess before. It has, certainly ,
cheapened food; but it would likewise li&ve
n THE OOSFEaUOXAL III BARMOXT WITH IITTELXJECTUAL FREEDOM ? 4SS
dM^cnad labour, if a rent for onr aarplas | indaoed them to consent to the destmctioo
popoUkioa had not been discovered in Cali- ; of their most constant and largest con-
miu tod Aostralia. We have also had a ! sumers, in the vain hope of monopolising
saeccMian of good harvests, which liave, in \ the trade of the worid, and the miitplaoed
sane measurei lessened foreign competition confidence that, if we made lar^ concessions
^th oar farmers. But we cannot alwajs to foreigners, they would be equallj readj
eipect to be fortunate. I^t the tide of to reciprocate. Protective principles — those
'^ffligatloo stop; let there be one or two bad ' principles which teach us to prefer onr own
Ittrests; let there l)e a general European | country and countrymen to foreigners — car-
*ir— nooe of which events, csiieciallv the ricd England with honour and success through
Utt, are b J anr means impn>bablc — and j the most costly and protract'-nl war of
^ ihall reap the disastrous fruit of our ! ancient or modem times : it remains to be
u^mdeoce. With wages at starvation ; seen whether, under similar circumstances,
pout, their best customers— the landholders ! free trade would do the same. The crisis
ttd nuddle classes ~ ruined, the foreign has not yet arrived; but its dLttance no one
Qu^ts closed to them by another treaty of : can predict, (tod grant that, when it comes,
BOB-iDtercourse, fierce and hungry mobs cla- ' England may not bhare the fate of her pre-
iDviriog for that food fur who^e supply we deccssors in commercial great ni^is, whose
^become dependent an our fiies, our ma- | wealth has been their weakness, and their
Bafii;tarer8 will then have time to regn't , insatiate cupidity its own punishment.
the iniotnated and grasping avarice which i S. A. J.
lorial (^nmomit.
B THE COKFESSIOXAL IN HARMONY WITH INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL
FREEDOM on SOCIAL WELL-BEING ?
NEGATIVE REPLY.
V| most say we delifrht in the intellectual burdening of the soul to thvo in whom wo
cnoHiioa which debate affmls, yet in our conHile, but that surely affords no pretext
^rioor we would not wrest the truth for the for the cstabli^hInent of a pahUv cunfe»sional
^<^ degrading any subject, nor would we — a regularly organized institution, in wliich
•BBvingly snfier our judgment to be misled the entire inhabitants of a parish confide in
^precooceived notions: the remarks of X. one man, and that man armed with authority
* tkis point are apposite, but too exclusive ; to compel those, under pcnnlty of cxcommuni-
^ Nems to think that the writers on the ! cat inn, to reveal to him their sins, and who
■'9'^ only are subject to party fi'elings, , cUims to bo invested with power to remit or
'Bd perorires not that he himself yields to retain these sins according to the pleasure of
(^ n the same paragraph. his own will. In the one catw confession is
C. C. F. has replied so fully and so ably ! optional, and made for persouiil satisfaction
^tke attempt of ^^Confessarius** to graft the i only, to one who we are sure fui'ls an aiTeo-
^■i&irioDal on scripture, that we neeil not - tionate interest in onr welfare; in the other
9*ue to combat again his arguments on this it is obligatory — is associated with future
P^ We shall address ouniclves to the I rewards and punishments, and ma le to ona
*SiBeiitt ofieivd by the other writers, and ' who cares not for our pers<>iml confitience:
** nay ineidaotAlly have a word with him. I the differences are too grave to secure belief
*Tbe rnnfiinnil," says J. B., " is an insti- ! in the proposition, that the tendency to coo-
htia Minodiog with a law of our nature." { fess to one another is the reason for its estab-
TotUi iMflrtioa wb cannot assent. There \ lishment.
VMM trath in his after remarks, when he | Further on he says — "A candid confesuon
aOadia to the nHtf eiperiexM»d in the UU' , allows a person a starting-point for a new
4S4
IS THE CONFES3IOXAL IN HARMONY WITH CTTELLECTUAL
course of moral rectitude; he is a *new
creature;' he has done with the past, and the
future may be full of hope." This certainly
is an attractive aspect of confession, and
would be uncommonly convenient; but if in-
tended to apply to the confessional, it is a
merely fanciful speculation : so far from the
confessional being an institution calculated to
promote and maintain sinlessness of soul, it
serves merely to cozen the confessed into for-
getfiilness of sins which otherwise might be
a source |of mental anguish ; as the conser-
vator of conscience, it ought to be a check
on violations of moral and religious duty ; yet,
in (K>ntrasting non-confessing countries with
countries in which the confessional is at-
tended, the result, despite the special plead-
ings of Bishop Maginn, is highly flattering
to the former, and presents an irresistible
proof that the principles in which the con-
fessional is founded are erroneous. That
attendance at this tribunal does not conduce
to " newness of life," is a fact painfully illus-
trated in the experiences of Roman Catholics.
No sooner do they leave the tribunal than
they relapse into their former habits, and so
continue sinning and confessing their sins
from year to year, without any amendment
of heart being effected. In the primitive
church, when a member sinned so as to lose
communion, he was not readmitted until
assurance was given, by a long courjue of
irreproachable conduct, that a permanent
improvement had taken place ; but in the
Bomish church the penances, consisting of a
vain repetition of psalms and paters, or it
may be a pecuniary consideration, affords no
certainty that amendment has been superin-
duced ; indeed, the penauce is so inadequate
to the offence, that the passions are not
restrained by fear of punishment. He who
perceives that he has infrmged the divine
command will, if he be sincerely repentant,
change his mode of life without the inter-
position of a confessor : the penitence which
such inspire, whether by censure or rebuke,
by exhortation or expostulation, may be
violent at the time, but it is quite imfit to be
accepted as a reason that the sins committed
should be forgiven, even granting that that
functionary does possess the power to remit
or retain which he claims to have had dele-
gated to him. He must be credulous to an
extraordinary degree, who can believe that
those who have life long been accustomed to
confession and absolution, are, on each s-
occasion, duly inspired by a sincere re;^
tance or a genuine love of God. The 00K3/
sions made, it is to be feared, arc but p«r£
revelations ; those delinquenccs to which th
penitent is attached are in danger of \)ea§
concealed, as also such as are darkly com-
plexioned and stain the moral charader.
Whatever a man's character may appear to
be, he is himself conscious of many specb
upon it of which the world is ignorant; and
so it is wilh the penitent, his confessor doei
not know all: notwithstanding the man's
knowledge that concealment is sacrilege,
that self-respect of which he ciooot
wholly divest himself (and which if 1»
could, society would be deprived of its suiert
guarantee for his conformity) prevents him
from humiliating himself so far as to onbonm
every dereliction of duty, more espedallj
such as tend to lessen him in the estimation
of others; thus wavering between the in-
stincts of nature and the fancied chums di
fictitious duty, he is accustomed to itiflt
conscience, and he becomes gradnallj haii*
ened by this course of conceahnent Soch is
the natural result of the confessioDal. Its
inutility is shown in the nncertamty to
which class sin may belong : with an austere
man, that may be accounted a grave oflfence
which, with a man of easier dispositicOt
would be considered trivial. And, fortbtfi
it is inconsistent in its terms; for ve are
told that absolution is valid only after i
minute and "circumstantial declaratioo «f
every sin;" and history records that wholt
armies, en majtse^ have been absolved withoot
any such declaration.
" It is impossible it (the confessional) erer
could have been established in the chrutiai
world but by the command of Almighty God
himself," or " to assign any other beginniiV
to it than that of Christianity itself:" ssdl
is the inconsiderately bold language indonid
by X., while the historical fact is, that pi^
vious to 1215, there existed no ncoffosd
public confessional, and that at that data s
most important change was effected; tiH
then absolution had been dependent on tlN
performance of penance; since then "6r*
giveness attends the act of confession." U
was owing to this change that uanaSat
confession, which has oraiferred so mn^
power and influence on the church, m
adopted. Considerable address was mani-
ASTD 3IORAL PRBEDOH OB SOCIAL WELI/-BBUrG ?
425
iested hj the Latenn council in decreeing
idMolDtion to follow confession, who rightly
reasoned that men would submit with less
relnctance to the change, if bjr it they secured
an immediate instead of a proepective pardon.
At this, period ** the Roman church, having
become prepooderant from her numerous
usorpatioos, aimed only at extending her
dmninion. By imagining a new system of
confession and penance, by augmenting the
catalogue of sins, and modifying their nature,
and by reserving to herself the right of giving
or refunng absolution, she has grasped at the
eonscienoes of nations and of kings. For
tfa» purpose it was necessary to render pardon
as easy as sin is attractive."* Its introduo-
tsoD is merely another instance of the eccle-
siastical hardihood of popes, and does not
trsnscend their accustomed arrogance. It
was not until confession was exalted to the
dignity of a sacrament, that Bome assumed
that lordship over conscience which results
in the excommunication of sovereigns, the
establishment of inquisitions, and the moral
eoslayement of the peoples over whom her
sway extended; and had it not been for the
imbecfle policy of the continental govern-
nents, that cherished it as a means of
diecking sedition in the germ, it had not
survived till now to *^ blast the human
flower."
The'question is asked — ''Is the confes-
rional in harmony with intellectual and moral
freedom ? " And we cannot reply more
fittingly than by asking, in return, whether
he can enjoy intellectual and moral freedom
who suffers himself to be cajoled by intimi-
dations of a priest — whose mind is burdened
by restrictions and prohibitions — whose
memory is tasked recollecting a multitude
of observances, and treasuring up against
the next approach to the confessional a cata-
logue of real and fictitious sins? Whether
he is an intellectual and moral freeman who
renounces his right of judgment in the most
important concerns of his spiritual nature,
and accepts as heaven-inspired truth every
word which proceedeth out of the mouth of a
priest? Whether ho is intellectually and
morally free who permits a court at Bome,
or anywhere else, to decree what books he
may, and what he must not, read? Is he
• « Hist of Aur. Conf.," by Count C. P. de
Lastejne.
not rather in the depths of mental and moral
serfdom, who dares not read his bible, unless
he have a licence from a priest? No, *' Con-
fessarins;** it is by no means clear that the
confessional permits us to "do as we choose,'*
even although that be "associated with the
determination to do as we ought;" we must
do as the priest prescribes, and not what our
own opinion of duty may dictate : fcff in-
stance, to read Milton, or study Newton,
would not, in the view of any sane man, be
construed into a violation of duty; it so
happens, however, that the works of both
these illustrious sons of light, in company
with those of many of our best writers, are
comprehended in the expnrgatorial list, to
read from which is an unpardonable offence.
The absence of restraint incites to activity,
but when penance may be incurred by the
study of subjects, unless under priestly sanc-
tion, men are discouraged from engaging in
mind-mvigorating pursuits. So far as regards
intellectual growth, the Bomish church has
a grand antidote in the unreasoning faith
with which she requires every tenet of hers
to be accepted; her adherents are taught
that they cannot discern truth for themselves ;
that the attempt is impious.
X. complains that " in regard to the rela-
tion of the confessional to social well-being
much has not been said." We shall endeavour
to satisfy him. That the church intermeddles
with political affairs cannot be denied. Now,
whatever movements it has interested itself
in supporting or defeating, the priests have
uniformly promoted or opposed, by granting
or denying absolution according as their
penitents favoured or retarded tiieir views.
We cannot forget the active part which the
priests take in the Irish elections, nor the
threats by which their parishioners are
menaced ^onld they dare to be refractory.
We know that in the continental countries,
when the interests of the church did not run
parallel with those of the state, the confessors
did not hesitate to improve the opportunitira
afforded by the confessional to inculcate doc-
trines subversive c^ the civil power, and to
enjoin the formation of secret societies, com-
pelling those who approached their tribunal
to become members, by refusing absolntioa
on any other terms, and binding them to
secrecy lest their own seditions designs might
be discovered. In reference to this subject
we quote the following paragraphs finnn Vol-
426
18 THB OORFBSnONAL W HABMONT WITH IKTBIXBOTUAL
Uira— «n avthoritj to wbicfa oar opponents
cannot object, for ** Gonfceurins" himaelf hms
pronoonoed him to be ** an impardal and tnie
witness:* —
" The good which eonfesnon has done is,
that it luKS sometimes procnred rastitution
from petty thieres. The 01 is that, in the
internal troubles of states, it has sometimes
forced penitents to be oonsdentiooslj rebel-
lions and blood-thirsty. The Onelf priests
refused absolution to the Ghibeilines, and the
Ghibellines to the Guel&.
" The counsellor of state, L^net, relates in
his memoirs, that all he could do in Burgundy
to make the people rise in faTonr of the
Prince of Goiid6, detained at Vinoemies by
Cardinal Maxarine, was 'to let loose the
priests in the confessionals* — speaking of
them as bloodhounds, who were to £sn the
fhime of civil war in the privacy of the con-
fessionals.
*' At the siege of Barcdooa, the monks*
revised absolution to all who remained fiuth-
fnl to PfaUip V.
** In the last revolution of Genoa, it was
intimated to all oonsdenoes, that there was
no salvation for whosoever should not take
up arms sgainst the Austrians.
'* This salutajy remedy has in every age
been converted into a poison. Whether a
Sforza, a Medicis, a prince of Orange, or a
king of Franee, was to be assassinated, the
parricide always prepared himself by the
sacrament of confession.
** Louis XL and the BfarchionesB de Brin-
villiers always confessed as soon as they had
committed any great crime ; and they con-
fessed often as gluttons take medidnes, to
increase their appetite.
"A fanatical assassin, thinking that he
serves God by killing his prince, comes and
consults a oonliBSSor on this case of conscience*,
and the confessor commits a sacrilege if he
saves hb sovereign's life."
Is it, think ye, ''incapable of tampering
with public libaty?"
The confessional assists in defeating jus-
tice. If a Reman Catholic has been guilty
of any crime, and has confessed, he may with
perfect truth, aoeording to Liguori, declare
before any dvil court thai he is innocent of
the crime with which he is charged, becanse
by oonfesaion the crime has been UktD away.
It is needless to say that the oath is the
recognised mode of arriving at truth in
judicial proceedings. We nevertheless find
in these theological woiks prevaricationa
reduced to a science. How detestable, for
example, is the morality inculcated by Liguori
in the following extracts: —
" It is a certain and a common (^pinion
amongst all divines, that for a just canse it
is lawful to use equivocation in the pro-
pounded modes, and to confirm it with an
oath."
Again: '' The accused, or a witness not
properly interrogated, can swear that be does
not know a crime which in reality he does
know, by understanding that he does not
know thecrime concerning which, legitimatdy,
he can be inquired of, or that he does not know
it so as to give evidence concerning it.*
And further, in reference to all oatha~-
"Let them be ever so valid, they can be
relaxed by the church."
Now, we appeal to the judgment of our
readers, whether teachings of tUs nature are
calculated to promote the well-being of so-
ciety, or whether, on the contrary, they are not
certain to introduce a universal fkithlessnesa?
The only means by which to gain an
adequate idea of what this moral nuisance—
the confessional — really is, is to peruse the
works employed in training confessors for
their duties; and yet this is a proceeding
not to be hastily recommended. One may
indeed become versant with the iniquities of
the oonfessiona], but in doing so the imagi-
nation sustains pollution without counter-
vailing profit.
Judge, then, whether " the confessional is,"
as J. B. asserts, " a sort of qnarantine for the
mind, by which it is purified from pestiferous
oontact with the world of sin." We consider
it, in the hands of unmairied men, educated
as the priests are, as the most diabolical
instituti<m which has ever existed for the
perversion of mind and morals. How truly
did Paul foreshadow the nature of the insti-
tution under review I ** The time will oome,"
he says, " when they will not endure sound
doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they
heap to themselves teachers, having. UeAmg
ears; and they shall turn away their ears from
the truth, and shall be turned into fables.**
AftlSTIDES.
A3fD MORAL FIIBEDOX OR SOCIAL WELL-BEINO ?
42r
AFFIKMATIVE REPLY.
As one of the openers of this interesting
!(Ute we gUdlj avail onrsdres of the right
if tiplj, aithoogh oar tank will be very light,
^the natuxe of the arguments iised bj
Mtr opponents, and the efficient senrices cmT
% gentleman who followed as on this side
of the (joestion. And here we maj obsenre,
^itis instructive to notice how X., with
> for bold strokes, utterij demolishes the
&>Mpim theories of •• Aristides" and W. G.
Vaflf, eiror maj be potent, but truth is
oonipoteot!
Tbe lengthened and laboured remarks of
C.G.F. do not require much comment. Bis
*trictiues upon our quotations of scripture
tte without point, ob we would have it carc-
follj noted that thej were adduced bj us
i^thtf to establish the principle of confes-
■Mo than anything else. That principle
^•fi.hss, with much abilitj, shown to be
i&btmvonj with man*s mental and moral
i^itore; ftnd we think even our opponent will
ibtit that we have shown it to be sanctioned
^ tlis word of God. The qaestion then
BM, in what uutitntion of the church is
1^ principle embodied, if the confessional
^ iMished ? We own our inability to say,
■iwewoold ask onr readers if they can
'■ttfa a replj; tf not, let those opponents
>ho believe the confession of sins to be
sjoised in the scriptures, tell us how that
4*Bctioa is obeyed by the various sects of
^k<Bt(8tints at the present day?
^ With regard to the bearing of the confes-
*Bil upon social and intellectual well-being,
■»4eein the dangers referred to by W. (».
■9 stberB as more imaginative than real,
■i would refer to the evidence already
I'diesil as to what the confessional has
^ sod what it has done. But our position
*» we may support by other considerations.
We sre all well aware that the jealousy of
^TarioQS sects is very highly developed,
^ that they keep a continually watchful
ft spOB the movements of those parties to
"^ they stand opposed. The more puwer-
I'^te opposing party, the more jealous and
Brt is the semtmy of their dealings. Now,
the world there are tens of thousands of
ifcwinnsli, the doors of which are almost
rtumally open, affording the intending
utents first ingress and egress, and hua> |
dreds of thousands of persons of both seze»
I pass these portals. Can we imagine, then,
that the lynx-eye of jealous sectaries woald
not, long before this, have accnmalated a
niinoos catalogue of crimes, with full and
particular proofs attached thereto, were the
confessional that })lace of sin, that hell of
iniquity and corruption, which our opponents
represent it to be? We think noL Nay,
does not this very consideration make it
probable that, even in those few cases which
are repored, there may be a little spice of
that exaggeratiou with wliich religious zealots
and bigots have been too familiar? If crime
walk barefaced through the land, and each
priest is in himself a moral lej)er to the
neighbourhood, how comes it that there is so
little authenticated proof of this moral de-
Unquency? Is there so little rivalry and
jealousy amongst the sects — is there 80 little-
resentful feeling in the bosom of a female
injured in ^Mier honour's nicest part," as to
render this impossible? Is there so much
guile, cunning, and hypocrisy in each priest
as to enable him to conduct his "amours
and liaisons" unobservedly and unobstruct-
edly ? and is there so much latent viciousness
and criminality, so much detestable moral
passivity, so little regard for virgin h<Hiour,
in the soul of woman, as to render this
probable? We cannot believe the libel on
humanity. Let not the cvi<lence against an
Achilli be referred to. We denounce the
man.
Again. Against the alleged moral delin-
quency there is arrayed all the parental
affections and family ties, as X. has very
properly hinted. The parental feeling is,
perhaps, the purest and strongest which
causes the hearl-nerves to vibrate; and the
fraternal atfection especially between brothers
and sisters is almost angelic in its purity.
Can we, dare we think, then, that all these
feelings may be carelessly and ruthlessly in-
fringed without a wild, rebellious outcry,
which would be sufficient to sweep from
amongst existing thmgs any institution in
connexion with which such wrongs were
habitually committed? Can the generoos
love and the warm instincts of a mother's
heart be so warped by priestly craft that
she would train up her daughters to sacrifice
428 E8SAT ON BI8TOKT.
their honour to a Ticioas and immoral priest I eternal ice than that anj form of religion
— one, perhaps, bj whom she was herself i coald so systcmaticallj succeed in eranng
betrayed? Can a father's sense of right be from the sonl its normal instincts. And if
80 thoroughly outraged, and yet there be no \ this be not so, then the confessional is 'not
hand upraised to smite the spoiler? Could that destructive thing to morality which our
he tamely submit to see the opening woman's
charms nipped in the bud by a cool, calcu-
lating monster? Can the valorous heart
of youth consent to see his sister become
"one of the sorriest Uiings that walk the
earth," and not be tempted to pour red>hearted
destruction on the head of the villain who
did the deed? Who would believe all this?
Sooner would we believe that the sun's rays
could freeze the heart's blood of a hero into
opponents would insinuate, and we are bound
to believe that the cases quoted in " Anti-
Bomish Controversies" are slanders.
Beader, peruse the arguments again on
both sides of the debate; do not cherish
bigotry nor cling to old prejudices, and vre
think you will come to our conclusion — that
the confessional m in harmony with intel-
lectual and moral freedom and social wdl-
! being. Coxfxbsabius
ESSAY ON HISTORY.
(ConHmudJrom roLII.p.All.J
The life of humanity is neither easily written, nor easily studied. So numerous are
the influences which act upon man — so diverse are the phases in which he appears — so
different are the stages through which he has successively passed — so varied are the
Actors in the great world-theatre — so multitudinous are the events to be detailed — so
intimately interblended are causes and effects — so multiplex and almost sumless an the
agreements and antagonisms to be chronicled — so manifold the passions, interests, manners,
customs, habits, states, actions, &c., which are to be brought together in harmonious
combination before the " mind's ^ye," that it is difficult indeed to give unity, coherence,
proportion, and artistic beauty to the whole. To amplify details without losing sight of
tiie genera] congruousness and consonancy of the whole, is &r from being easy. An equal
diificulty, perhaps, attends the attempt to constrain the attention — to hold before the mind
the multifarious and ever-differing influences, circumstances, personages, and actions which
require to bo regarded as mutually active and reactive. These difficulties, however, may-
be surmounted — largeness of view may be obtained— concentration of intellect may be
acquired. Besolute mind-discipline must, of course, be resorted to, and a strict enforce-
ment of self-control is necessary: these being unswervingly and unwaveringly put into
operation, success is certain. Kor is the benefit to be derived from this stem and decided
mental subordination trivial. ''The school of example is the world; and the maaten of
this school are EQstory and Experience. I am far from contending that the former is
preferable to the latter. I think, upon the whole, otherwise ; but this I say, that the former
is absolutely necessary to prepare us for the latter, and to accompany us wlulst under the
discipline of the latter, that is, through the whole course of our lives.** — " Experience can
go a very little way back in discovering causes, and effects are not the objects of experience
till they happen." — "Experience is doubly defective; we are bom too late to see the
ESBAT ON niSTORY. 429
anSngf tnd die too soon to mo the end, of many things.** — ** Histoiy prepares ns for
■knee, and guides us in it." — By it " we arc cast hack, as it were, into former ages;
fife with the men who lived hefore ns, and we inhabit countries that we never saw.
» is enlarged, and Time prolonged, in this manner; so that the man who applies him-
earij to the stadj of History maj acquire in a few years, and before he sets his foot
be world, not onlj a more extended knowledge of mankind, but the experience of more
tnries than anj of the patriarchs saw."* "Nature gave us Curioeitj, to excite
iodustry of our minds;" and the study of History affords us full scope for all our
Dti] activities. " The truth that progress is the very end of our being must not be-
ared as a tradition, but comprehended and felt as a reality." f As a great element in
r-coltnre History is invaluable, not only for the knowledge which it gives, but also for
' discipline which it enforces. Expansiveness of mind, keenness of thinking, clearness
i eonsecntiveness of reasoning, closely-applied attention, perspicuity of judgment, and
lend vigour of mind, are some of the chief advantages which are necessarily pro>
ced by the exertions of mind fur which it calls.
We are, of course, aware, that in speaking thus we allude more to a manner of writing
I ttadying which ought to be rather than u, although a few modem authors have
z^ upon the main features which we desiderate in historical composition ; of this, how-
T, we shall have occasion to speak again ; meanwhile, it must be remembered that we
k not now of those undiscriminating chroniclers — those registrators of rumours — those
cgorizers of mere events — those weavers together of fiction and reality, superstition and
th— those prosing dullards, who have so often been honoured with the name of his-
iua UDJnstly. All respect due to them as the accumulators of much hidden wealth,
t Table of which they knew not, we cheerfully grant them; but their immense cabinets
nbtn&h, mingled vrith the gold-grains of truth, we cannot dignify with the name of
itoiy. Nor do we now refer to those collectors of mere inventories of the births ,
Bp) thoughts, and deaths of
" Conquerors and kings,
Founders of sects and systems ; to whom add,
Sophists, bards, statesmen, all unquiet things,
Which stir too strongly the soul's secret springs" —
II twaddlers, whose chief delight it is to blazon forth the so-called glories of thoso
(tdid curses of their kind who have occupied the vanguard in " the social savagery of
fl* whose writings almost ignore the existence of the people as a source of power — an
B in the constitution of a state — ^an element in humanitarian progression — an immense
kitade of sonls formed in the image of God, striving after the perfectionment of their
Mi, and with no ascertainable limits to their intellectual, moral, and religious develop-
t- M anything else, in fact, than " hewers of wood and drawers of water" — human hell-
idi thirsting for each other's gore, labour-machines for the production of the luxuries
of life for their taskmasters — as serfs of an ignoble breed, whose only duty
At pKwding coLtraets are, dejecta m^mftra, culled from Bolingbroke's excellent essay, " Of the
r ef History,'* a work which every intending student should read with care.
aMudag's " SdMtUtare."
430 K86AT on RUfrOBY.
it was to IWe and labonr while tkej were required — graphic ddinaatocs of the gorgeous
grendeor and super-exalted exoeUence of despolie dynasties and war-^ocoonters; bat of the
critical school of historians which has lately arisen, of whom we shall only name at pre-
sent, as examples, Montesqnieu, Vico, Schlegel, Niebuhr, Grote, Schloaser, Gaizot, and
Mscaulay — men who reeognise the dirineness of
" Tbts stnmgely-fHTen gilt of hmnsn life,
Compasacd bj mystery, as the etars by night**—
who cannot believe that men were created merely to "float adown the fretfal tide of
circamstance," aimless and wind-piloted — ^who regard the people as immortal beings, by
whom the Tme is to be songht, the Good to be s^ven after, the Right to be practised,
and the Beaatifnl to be realized— who combine in one riew the great events which have
taken place among the nations, and ask whercnnto they have tended, ** whether to freedom
or to despotism, to one or another form of civilization" — who aim at the perception of
human destiny, watch the course of man's progress, collect from large inductions the causes
by which this grand object is furthered — who, while perceiving and acknowledging the
fact that
"Crushed from our sorrow, all that*s great in man
Has erer sprung,"
do not fling doubts up in the face of heaven of the benignncss of its purposes, but rather
carefully demonstrate that
" The statesman's toil,
The patriot's war— al] progress that we make,
Laborious, slow, earned at ttemendooa cost,
Have solely for their end to guard, diffuse,
And puriry the simple joys of home."
''How sweetly on the ear snch echoes sound I" Would that the time were come when
the great lessons thus enunciated were capable of being learnt by all the children of men!
O that it were in onr power to aid in the formation of student-thoughts such as these,
and to assist in the diff'osion oi that critical sagacity and skill which seem to us so much
required in the student of humanity's world-life! Somewhat we have already assayed, and
something more we shall now attempt.
On the very threshold of historical studies, conducted as we have indicated in the pre-
ceding paragraphs, we require a knowledge of some large well-grounded principles to form
*^ the light of all our seeing." " History involves in its composition many difllerent and
distinct objects, and has many different ends in view. In the execution it receives from
the pen of the historian many graces and embellishments ; and from the interest which
man always takes in the ooncems of man, it becomes a species of writing the most instruc-
tive to the mind and the most pleasing to the imagination. Divested, however, of these
adventitious considerations, and logically viewed, ii it the invtstigation of fact* tMrou^
(he channel of tettimonjf.^* This being the case, the lone student of History must give the
laws of probability an early and important place in his preparatory mental exercises.
The doctrine of probabilities, so far at least as it regards that belief which is req|uiaite
* Tatbam's " Chart and Scale of Truth," vol. i. p. S1&
sasAT osr HiarroRY. 431
IB HistoTf , bM been so excellentlj treated of bj Locke and tbe antbon of " Tbe Port-Bojal
^gie," tbat we do not tbink it necessary to do more at present than laj before oar
mdoi a coocise smnmarj of tbe obsenrations wbich tbey bare made on tbis topie.
Ucb defines ** probability** as ** likeliness to be true." It is intended " to supply tbe
dtftet Off oar knowledge, snd guide us wbere that fiul^.** Tbe two foundations of proba-
f)iStj are — " 1st. Tbe conformity of anything with our own knowledge, obserration, and
opericDce. 2nd. Tbe testimony of others, Touching their obserration and experience.
Ib the latter is to be considered — 1, tbe number; 2, tbe integrity; 3, the skill, of tbe
witnesses; 4, the design of the author, when it is a testimony out of a book cited; 5, tbe
notUtcocy of tbe parts and circumstances of a relation ; 6, contradictory lestimonies.'* —
"Ik mind, if it would proceed rationally, ought to examine all the grounds of probability,
oi ice bow tbey make more or less, for or against, any proposition, before it assents to or
&Knts from it; and upon a due balancing of the whole, nject or receive it witb a more
vhu firm assent, proporlionably to tbe preponderancy of the greater grounds of probability
■ «e ude or the other." — *' As the conformity of our knowledge, as tbe certainty of
oiMrrations, as the frequency and constancy of experience, and tbe number and credibility
of teatinionies do more or less agree or disagree witb it, so is any proposition, in itselj]
"Km or leas probable."*
Of the chapter of the Port-Royal Logic containing " some rules for the right direction
^ reAsoning in the belief of things which depend on human testimony," the following is a
^abstract, riz.: — Things are of two kinds, the changeltss and the changeable* Of tbe
fcratr, all tratbs are neceasary, and hence universal; if any predication therefore is false,
^ My eae nwtenoe, it is false in a//; of the latter, most truths arc contingent, hence
VBfcnals may either be true or false according to circumstances and the nature of tbe
^. It is therefore necessary to attend to all the drcumstances — internal and
ttttcsal— eoBoectad with an event: internal circumstances are tboee which bekog to
tti ooDsistency of the parts, or the probability of the nature of an event in iUelf; external
^BVVBstsiiees are tboee which relate to tbe testimony on wbich we believe it. If tbe
^tamstsncea are such as are rarely tbe concomitants of falsehood, we have good grounds
^ belief; if not, we must either remain in suspense or doubt. When, however, possibility
^ frobability vnite in support of one account of a matter, the fact of which is sufiidently
^ttwed, althoogh the mode of the fact is divergently stated, we ought to believe the one
*npparted rather than any otber.t We are perfectly aware that against the whole
^kIrm «f pnbabiHtieB tbe lines of Agatbo—
Tax <*v TK »(W>f CUTTO TO«rr civat Xi^ot
Bp«TO«#« voXXm TV7X<irctr oM ciKOTu/*^
■V be qnoted with some tnithfalnesa. In order that we may present a corect idea of
ttk natter, we beg fhrther to extract tbe following quotation from Britain's greatest
l^— ** We most remember tbat the probability of an event is not a quality of tbe
• Lodtirt* BasBj " book ir. cfaap. zv.
<f " U Iiii^M, om I'Ait d« Peuer;* Uv. iv. cap. xiU.
I nsee liBSB have been eleganlly traoalated thu»—
"XvMi Mis, h may b« said it probahUt
Thai many Udng* iaiprudaWe abould b^ipen in human Wiv."
432
REPOBTS OF MUTUAL IMPBOVEMEXT BOCIETIK8.
event itself, bat a mere oftine for the degree of groimd which we or some one else hare
for expecting it. The probability of an event to one person is a di&rent thing from the
probability of the same event to another, or to the same person afler he has acquired
additional evidence. .... Yet this makes no difference in the event itself, nor in any of
the causes on which it depends. Every event is, in itself^ certain, not probable: if we
knew all, we shonld either know positively that it will [or did] happen, or positively that
it will [or did] not. .... Bearing this in mind, I think it must be admitted, that even
when we have no knowledge whatever to gnide oar expectations, except the knowledge that
what happens most be one of a certain number of possibilities, we may still reasonably
jadge that one supposition is more probable to ut than another supposition, and if we have
any interest at stake, we shall best provide ^r it by acting conformably to that judgment."*
We have now placed in the hands of our readers some information regarding the pre-
liminary criteria of historical truth ; in a future portion of this paper we shall notice some
of the circumstances in our world-life which, although too generally regarded with
indifference, in the composition as well as in the study of history, yet exercise a mighty
influence on the life, happiness, and destiny of the human race. S. N.
• J. S. MUl'a " Logic/' book UL ohap. zviii. p. 60.
EEPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
WeBttnituter Atkeiueum. — The third annual
xneetiDg of this iiutitution was held on Monday
evening, October II.
Tea having been provided for the members and
IHends, the business of the evening was opened
by Mr. J. P. Seatliff, who was nnanimoosly voted
to the chair. The chairman commenced his
obserrations by remarking, that he believed the
olgeots of the society were generally well known ;
and althoogh it had been denominated the West-
minster AthenaBum, it was founded on the prin-
ciple of mutual improvement, and this was pro-
moled mainly through the medium of leotures
and disenssions, and the use of a library. That
the society was progressing in the sphere of its
operations, and beooming of greater importanee,
might be gathered ftt>m the fact, that its last
anniversary took place in a building, the limits
of which could not possibly have affordrd accom-
modation to the present audience. Having made
other appropriate remarks, the chairman con-
cluded by ouling upon the secretary for a report
of the society's prooeedin^ during the past year.
Mr. £. Bound, on rismg, confessed that he
looked with feelings of pleasure and satulaotion
on the assemblage belbre him. To a mind that
loved to level in the joys which wisdom affonled,
and to ooU the waysute flowers of inlelligenoe
which the inoidenti of every-day life profusely
atrews in our path, a meeting like the present,
composed of the earnest, the moughtfol, and the
young, furnished the means of the noblest and
Nweeteet oyoymenL What more interesting than
to be surrounded by those with whom we were
ionmeying in our passage up the mountain of
literary acquisition, who, when some i4>parently
iusunaoootable obstacle threatened to intercept
our course, would help us to surmount it. and
who, as new beauties rose within the pale of their
mental vision, revealed them to our notioe,
making us partldpators in the treasures their
vigilance had won. This was but an imperfeet
dMcription of the advantages arising fWnn the
system of mutual improvement ; let the diversified
fhneies of those he was addrrasing impart to it aa
additional amount of colouring, and it would be
found to possess additional dbarma. As the
result of hu own short experience he would say,
that, vigorously pursued, it was a system con-
dud ve to real and efficient progress.
The report was then read, at the close of which
Mr. E. Kound continued as follows ^—
"Having recently been ihvonred with a eom-
munieation ih>m the Editors of the British
ControveniaUtt^ in which they express a deidre
that their journal should meet with greater puh-
lidty among the advocates of literuy eflbrt, I
feel, as Au* a^ my limited influence extends, that
I cannot better promote the olgect of their oor*
respondence than by introdiwing the aulgect to
all connected with this institution on ttie present
occasion. The papers I am about to read will
convey to such as are unacquainted with the work
some idea of its contents and charactee."
The table of contents of the halAyearly volume,
together with *'a statement of the history and
present condition of the British ControtrmsUist^
with prqjeets for its improvement," having been
read, the speaker brought his renurks to a doee
by adding, that he was satisfied of the value of the
work, and had recommended it to many of hi»
personal friends. To those in quest of tnith»
eager to escape the shoals and quicksands of ecror^
he would say, support the British Controver'^
RBPORT8 OF MUTUAL mpBOVEUKKT BOCXSTIKB.
433
8 ialut. Certamly, no member of the Wettmixwtar
Alhensom ought to remain without it.
Mr. 6. D. welsh then rose to more, " That the
Briiith ConlroversialiU be regularly prorided
f««r tb« use of the members/' and went on to speak
in hi^ terms of the able and impartial manner
in which it was conducted. It was a work of
threat worth, if considered only on account of the
arguments it oontainnMl on Tarious momentous
sabjeeti ; but hie espadally esteemed it for the
tinaectarian and unur^udtced position its editors
assonked. He would urge every one present to
«neoursgeit.
Mr. J. E. Williams seconded the motion, and
briefly bore testimony to the value of the maga-
zine, aUding, that he had derived from it much
benefit and assistance.
ilt. B. J. Brand, after glancing at the oonrse
of lectures to be delivered during the present
quarter* in an interesting manner observed, with
Reference to the CoHtt'OvenialUtf that be should
not only peruse it frequently himself, but should
introduce it to the domestic circle.
The Chairman (who was the first to introduce
the work to the members of the Athencum) put
the resolution, which was carried unanimously.
read, and the following, among other questions,
had been discussed : — ** Would the Adoption of
Vegetarianism benefit the Human Race ; " ** Ought
Capital Punishment be Abolished?" " Was the
Execution of Charles the First Justifiable 7" tec.
The society, upon the whole, was in a prosperous
condition. The chairman then called upon Mr.
£. Sowerbutt to address the meeting, who, after
making a few remarks on the report, &c., moved
that the "report now read be adopted," which
was seconded by Mr. Lewis, and supported by
Mr. R. F. Allen, and carried unanimously ; after
which the following resolutions were adopted >—
Moved by Mr. J. T. Slugg. and seconded by
Mr. T. Pearson, ** That at the present time an in-
creased amount of education is particularly need-
/ul among the youthful population of Oreat
Britain." Moved by Mr. H. Sumraei-sett, and se-
conded by Mr. W. Jones, " That such societies as
the one of which we are now eelebradnp the anni-
versary will be amon^the various agencies to efl'ect
so desirable an object, therefore this meeting
pledges itself to support them." Moved by the
Rev. J. D. Brocklehnrst, and seconded by Mr.
Dalley, *' That whilst the members of this society
will use their greatest exertions to attain more
Mr.H. Hayward, in an eloquent address, dwelt [ knowledge, they humbly acknowledge the neces-
on the pleasures and advantages to be derived from
mental pursuits, remarking, that if" knowledge"
-• as '* power," ignorance was power also, and that
i: needed the salutary influence of societies like
the one he was addressing to counteract the evil
and immoral tendencies which illiterate minds
diffused. The influence for good that had gone
forth from this society was incalculable, and he
questioned whether any of the members were
arithmeticians enough to compute it. There
were no bounds to the pleasures learning
bestowed. True, there existed a class of ]»erson»
whose rusted and time-worn prejudices would not
perwat them to countenance such institutions,
WHO were alarmed at the spirit and enterprise
manilested by the young of the present age, and
who ikucied that tlte achievements of science and
the revelations of philosophy would shake the
bulwarks of truth. Reli^on had nothing to
dread jn the march of science and the inves-
tigntions of philosophy ; on the contrary, it had
everything to hope for.
This, with an eulogium on the sympathetic and
(nendly feeling ever animating the members of
the Athensum, by Mr. H. W. Monro ; a oompli-
Butat paid to the exertions of the late secretary
by Mr. J. K. Worrell ; a few sentences from Mr.
A. J. Bound ; recitations by Messrs. James and
Fowler; and votes of thanks to the retiring
officers and the eiuiirman, terminated the even-
ing's engagements. — ^A. J. R.
Mmneheuter. — George Street Young Men's
Ifuiual Improvement Society. — The first annual
party in connexion with this society was held on
Vriay evening, the 17th of September, in the
Wesleyan schoolroom, George-strret, Hulme,
Maneheeter. About one hundred persons sat
down to tea. Subsequently, on the motion of
the Rev. J. D. Broduehurs^ the president (Mr.
E. Harrison) took the chair, who, after a snort
introductory speech, called upon the late secretary
(Mr. J. W. Williamson) to read the report. This
stated, that there were twenty-two members in
c onnexion with the society ; that during the last
s ession many papers on various subjects had been
sity of the blessing of God to moke their insti-
tution efiSsctual for the ends for which it was
established."— J. H.
Manchester.— Riuholme Road Young Men't
Improvement Society. — This society celebrated
its ninth anniversary on Wednesday, the 6th
of October, in the schoolroom connected with
Rusholme-road Chapel. About200 members and
friends partook of tea, coffee, &c. These pre-
liminaries having been disposed of, the president,
Mr. Darling, took the chair, and commenced the
more important proceedings of the evening by
calling on the secretary to read the report, from
which it appeared that Uiere were thirty-five mem-
bers and sixt^-eight honorary members connected
with the society; that during the year fifty-two
meetings had been held, which had been well
attended, and at which questions of a more inter-
esting nature than usual had been discussed;
that me library, which comprised about 200 well-
selected and valuable works and most of the
leading reviews of the day, was in a most efficient
state. The following resolutions were submitted
to the meeting by members and students of the
Lancashire Independent Coll^^: — First reso-
lution, moved by Mr. McFall, seconded by Mr.
Wilde, and supported by Mr. Pioton— *' That the
present position of this society, as detailed in the
report, calls for increased and energetic exertions
from all the members to sustain the character and
to extend the usefulness of an institution so emi-
ueutly conducive to their moral and iotellectual
improvement" Second resolution, moved by Mr.
Bnmby, seconded by Mr. Hague, and supported
bT Mr. Reed— "That this society is enutled to
cuun the attention and support of young men
generally, because, by the peculiar advantages
which it posseaera, it is eminently adaplMl to
qualify them for acting an intelligent part in the
great social and politicid changes evidently so
near at hand." Third resolution, moved by Mr.
Shilllto and seconded by Mr. Bireh— '* That sanc-
tified intelli|cenoe hieing the most potent auxiliary
for good, it ts important that this society should
ever recognise, and constantly seek, that divine
484
XBItMRS or MUTUAL ZMPBOYSMB^IT 80CIETIX8.
■gtoej, witboot which *nolbiog is atnntf, nothing , nHff. — ^A toirie of the membfln and frioids of
it holy.' '* The meoting was alto •dmntd by , this society was hdd on Toasday eraning, Oeto-
the Rtr. James Griffin, who ezpresaed the deep , her 12th. After a social tea, the conunittoe were
interest he continued to feel in the society. It • enabled to present a rery Ihrourable report of the
was said by some that the effect of such societies proptress or the institution since its estid>liahment
was to enirender sceptical notions and sentimeots,
bnt he could safely say soch was not the case
with respect to this sodrty. On the contrary, it
bad been a most efficient means in the spread of
truth. He exhorted ihe merobera to steadily por-
aoe their oselV]! ooune ; for so long as the kind
and (haemal spirit, which had hitherto been
manifest amongst them, should eontinoe to exist,
tiieir society would be the means of accomplishing
still greater food. In the course of the erening
desert, oousisting of the various fruits, &e., in
season, was plaMd on the tables, and freely par-
taken of by the company. The proceedings,
which had progrvssed most satis&etorily, and
which appeared lo affi>rd ei\joTment to all present,
terminated shortly after ten o clock.
Muiwh*$ter. — htvtr Street Toung Men'»
Mulmal Improvement Society. — On Friday eren-
. ing, October 8, 165S, the members of this society,
with their friends, partook of tea, in the bondroom
a^yoining the schoolroom. The Rct. Wm. Jack-
son, presidMit of the Wesleyan Societr* took the
chair. In ooncloding an able and eloquent
speech, he said, that some persons were of optniou
that more harm than good resulted from asso-
ciations of this sort, in originating in the minds
of some young men a wrangling disposition and
m captious spirit ; but he beliered that the benefits
arising A-om sudi societies very grPRtiy prepon-
deratrd over any eril that might be connected
with them. He exhorted young men in par-
ticular to read that class of books that required
the most thought — ^books upon mental and moral
philosophy. After the chairman's address, the
members were expected, as their names occurred
on the list, either to make speeches, give reci-
tations, or read some interesting extracts. Several
of the memb rs spoke on the nature, necessity,
and means of sdC-improvement The meeting
was concluded with an earnest address to the
yonn(( men present, by Rev. O. Robinson, the
Buperinlendeut of the Lever-street circuit of the
Wesleyan Association.
Hirwaun Mutual Improvement Society, fonubd
in connexion with the Bri^th Controver$iati8t.
The first meeting of this society wm held on
Tuesday evening, October lith, and proved very
auccessful. It was numerously attended by the
Toung men of the place ; the ^air was occupied
OT Mr. J. Sims, who delivered a short address,
showing the beneficial effects of such societies.
The object of the meeting was to elect the officers
and aoopt the code of rales, ttc. The following
gentlemen were elected officers for the first qnar<
ter :— Mr. J. Sims, chairman ; Mr. W. Williams,
treasurer; Mr. Leyson Rhys, seoretary; Messrs.
Xvan Evans, Evan Bees, and D. P. Daviea,
committee-men. The newly-appointed seoretary
introduced the BritUh ControvtrnaUit to the
notioe of the members, and rseommeoded it '* to
all young men in pursuit of useAd knowIcdM."
Be also mentioned the editor*' kindness in senoing
efiroulars, &e. It was agreed that Om society
ahould order eU the volumes alraady poMiahed of
the Britiah ControvernnUat^ and ttiat the mem-
should take it in monthly.
Chiffing Sodibury Mmimmt Imjnwtmtni So^
m July, 1S51, and an encouraging statement of
its present position and prospects. The detail
of the original essays and lectures of different
members, and the di»cus«ions on vsrious sulyocts
oarriMd on during the past year, was such aa to
prove that the society had not fbiled in the accom-
plishment of its professed object, and flirnished
grounds of cbeerinc anticipation for the Aiture.
The engagements of the meeting were pleasantly
varied by the inbtMluetian of an excellent deavrt ;
some interesting and eneouraging addresses were
given, and the party separated after an evening's
eqjo^ent which will long be remembered with
gratification. It appears by the report that the
society numbers i^ut twice as many members
as at the corresponding period of last year, while
its balance of cash in hand is also nearly doubled,
notwithstanding the expenses consequent upon
the establishment of a library and readiux-room
in connexion with it since that time. On the
whole, the society has reason to congratulate
itself on its past success and present condition,
and may look forward hopeftiily to the occupation
of an increased and extended sphere of useAuneas.
Birmingham.^Thtt annual meetins of the liir-
minykam Debmtin^ Society was held at the I'hi-
losophical Institution on Friday evening, October
IsL The chair was taken by J. T. Chance, Esq.,
president, who delivered an address, in which he
dwelt upon the apparent hopelessness of per-
manently establishing such a society, when so
many haid feiled. The rules of the society, how-
ever, afforded hope that it would be more }»er-
manent than its predecessors, since it excluded
no class, and permitted free discussion to persons
of every opinion. The election of officers was
afterwards proceeded with, when Mr. O. JnbeH
was electea president, and Mr. W. J. Allen,
secretary.
On Wednesday evening, October ftth, the seventh
annual meeting of the £dgba$ton Debating So-
ciety was held at the Hen and Chickens Hotel,
Birmingham. After an excellent repast, the pre-
sident, Mr. Thomss Martineau, commenced the
business of the evening by a brief but appropriate
address. Mr. W. Hudson read the secretary's
report, from which it appeared that the number
of members was thirty-two; that the average
attendance was fifteen; that fourteen meetings
had been held ; and that the privilege of intro-
ducing straueers to the debates had been found
to work weu. Mr. Ixod read the treasurer's
report, showing a small balance in fevour of the
so^^ety. After the election of officers, and votes
of thanks to those who retired, thirteen new mem-
bers were proposed, and several intereating dis-
cussions announced.
Fafkirk Litermry Society.— A, number of gen-
tlemen residing in Falkirk and its vidnity hdd a
meeting in the Red Lion Hotel there, on the
evening of Tuesday, 5th October, for the purpose
of establishing a society, having for its objeet the
dissemination of knowledge and the culnvation
of a taste for literary pursuits among its memben,
by means of e«say reading and debates. Asodety
was accordingly constituted under the above name,
whidi, it is hoped, will aopply adeaideratum long
THE DTQirnVB.
435
Mt in thft district, and be hutrumenUd in ewrj-
ing out the desigiM of ila promoten.
OUmgom. — Mamucripi Joumal.—T\A% jour-
nal was originated about rijc montbi ago br a
ttw yoong men, aazloua for their mutual im-
proremcfit in eompoaition, &o. All arUolea are
arnt to %. eemmittee, ajnioinlrd for the purpoM of
eaamining and eorreeting them, and if approved
Ibcy are &a««ted, md if not, thej are returned to
the anfbort, with aueh remarics as may be useful
ibr their futnre eflbrts. It is based on thoroughly
litennr^ piineiples, aa will be seen ftx>m the
following aitieiee, whidi appeared in the October
nombcr:— Review of the Past Month ; the Duke
of Wellington ; fiistorr of English Literature,
An. IV. ; Sonnet ; the Sweetest Flower, a poem ;
Bevicwof " Unde Tom's Cabin ;" Essay— Poetry,
No. S; Cholera. The benefit which the coti-
cribvtors have already experienced they una-
aimooslv oonfees to exceed their aoticipationii ;
and deauroua that more should eiiioy the benefit,
they take the liboty of direoting the attention of
tikose tettders of the BriiUk Controver$iali*t
who may be reeident in Glasgow to it A small
annual aubiicription to deAtiy expenses is the
only eomlition of membership. All articles and
eonespondence to be addressed to Mr. David
Jfilci^/1,01, Grove-atreet.
BrUUh OvymtUB Mutual Improvement Auocia-
liea.— The third anniversary of this assodation
was eelebrated by a soiree on the evening of the
9fd of September, 18M, at the spadous residence
of J. C. Devonish, Esq., Hadfleld-street, Werk en
Kost, dty of OeorgetowTi, on which occasion a
large number of ladies honoured the members
with their presence. At dght o'clock the proceed-
in^ wetc opened with the ** Grand State March,"
p^cnned 07 the Miaaea Devonish on the piano-
forte; after whieh Mr. J. C. Devonish. Jun., pre-
aideat of the association, was called to the chtiir,
who made a fow appropriate remarics In reforence
lo the progress of die association during the pre-
osding year. The honorarr secretary, Mr. Isaae
Smit, then read the report or the committee, whieh '
staled that the following ten useful and importan t '
ratjaeta were diseuaaed at the association's hall, '
vix.:—
1st Who had the greater ririit to the British
throne, Prinee Artbnr or King John ?
Snd. Was Wat Tylei's rebellion justifiable ?
9rd. Were the Americans justified in becoming
independent?
4ih. Is an hereditary monarchy preferable to
an elective one?
Ml. Had the Saxons, in the time -of Alfred, a
sapsrior right to the Danes to possess the throne
ofEngfamd?
0th. Which was the greater general, Hannibal
or Napoleon Bonapaitef
7th. Which beat merited the title " gieat,"
Henry IT. or Louis XIV. 7
8th. Whioh did mora good to his oountiy,
Charlemagne or AIAed ttie Great?
9th. Whose claim to the throne was just, that
of Edward IV. or Henry VI. ?
10th. Was the deposition of Louis XVI. jus-
dflable?
Three essays were also written by members :
the first, by Mr. Ernest Tennent, on "Time;"
the second, by Mr. George White, on " Friend-
ship ; " and the third, by Mr. Archibald Devonish,
on "Printine." A lecture on "Anatomy" was
delivered to tne members by Allan Houston, Esq.,
M.D. The number of members belonging to the
assodation at present is twenty-eight, almost all
being natives of the colony, and of 4frican
de$eent.
The business of the past rear having been
brought to a close, the president vacate<l the
chair, and the Rev. E. A. Wallbridge, patron of
the assodation, was called to the same, who pre-
sided the remainder of the evening with his
accustomed ability. After a few remarks made
by him congratulatory of the association's attain-
ing its third anniversary, the following gentlemen
were unanimously elected ott^ce-bearers for the
ensuing year: — Mr. J. C. Devonish, Jun., pre-
sident ; Mr. S. W. Dummett, vice-president;
Mr. Isaac Smit, honorary secretary ; Mr. James
Hoby, assistant-secretary ; Mr. John Cook, trea-
surer ; Mr. Alexander Cumming, librarian ; and
Messrs. A. Devonish and George White, members
of committee.
At the conclusion of the election the following
songs were sung with great effect :>-** The Sea !
by the president, and "Come o'er the moonlit
sea,'* by the president and Miss M. Devonish.
The patron then called on Mr. John Cook to
speak to the first sentiment, "The Past." This
was followed by an instrumental piece of music,
" Rosseau's Dream," performed b]r Misses Taylor
and Van Sirtema. Mr. Isaac Smit spok« to the
second sentiment, "The Present" This was
also followed by another piece, "O dulce con
cento," with variations, perfonned by the Misses
Devonish. Mr. Samuel W. Dummett spoke to
the third sentiment, "The Future." This was
also followed by another piece, " Sound the loud
timbrel," performed by Misses Taylor and De-
vonish.
Votes of thanks having been tendered to the
ladies for their presence, and to the Rev. £. A.
Wdilbridge for presiding on the occasion, the
meeting wound up with the national anthem,
sung in parts by five members and four strangers.
All parties separated in good humour, highly
gratiiSed with ttie evening's entertainment
J. C. D., Jun., President
€^t Snqidm.
QUESTIONS BEQUIBINO ANSWERS. | preparation of plates, Ace. Alao of that branch of
— — I the above, in whieh prepared p^per is u^ed instead
131. 1 should feel moch obliged to any of your • of metallic plates, caUed, I think, ealotype.— J. M .
Tcadefs who eould give me any information eon- 1 192. Can any of your eoireapondents infonn
reming Photognqpny, oonstruotion of apparatus, I me why the eldest son of the Duke of Buccleugit
436
THS IHQUIBBB.
is not entitled marquis ? All the eldest sons
of Scotch dukes, with this, I think, single ex-
ception, are by courtesy called marquis ; but in
the case referred to the title is Earl of Dalkeith.
•^PXBBJLE.
133. Will S. N., C. W., Jun., or any other of
fhe talented readers of, and contributors to, this
excellent periodical, be kind enough to furnish
*' A Student" with rules or directions, showing
him how to cultivate a habit of attention ? He is
one whose miud is apt to wander from the sul^ect
he is studying ; and the attention, by being so
diTerted, causes the eye to wander over the pa^,
without the fticts being fUlly understood or im-
pressed upon the memory. Are there any studies
spedmlly adapted to remove this weakness ; and,
if so, what are they f As this is a subject of in-
calculable importance to all seeking to Airther
their own education, as well as to the inquirer
himself, any rules given will doubtless be thank-
AiUy received by many of the subscribers to this
work.— A Stuo£kt.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
111. Hereditary Ituanity and Matrimony.—
Insanity, or mania, is a disease on which much
is still to be learnt. We have had an opportunity
for a considerable amount of observation; but
there have been cases (although rare) which have
not been traceable to any apparent cause. In fact,
sometimes we have found no morbid condition of
the brain whatever, although generally, on post-
mortem examinations, we have that morbid stale
of the brain which the French term ramoUitse-
ment, or softening. The cautes which produce
insamty are various: it may be originated by
causes diameoically opposite. IsL From an ex-
cessive amount of action imposed on the brain by
the exertion of the mental faculties, i.e., an over-
exertion Orom mental power, as in the case of
Southey, &c. Sndly. From inactivity, producing
partial idiocy. How often do we iind a low
state of intellect (terrible to behold) where there
is no apparent thought or mental action, except-
ing for the gratihcauon of the passions, mqtiog a
pauing pleasure ; tlie mental power by such in-
activity becomes weakened and degenerates. But
the most common cause is, 3rdly, what I may
term breadi or over-extension of moral law; or a
better definition would be, a departing ftom or
going beyond healthy bounds and correct limiu ;
as, for instance, jpert;ertton qf judgment, eecen-
Irieity, monomania. We find a man of decided
talent and respectability possessing a wrong
judgment on one particular subject, for which we
cannot account— another having a certain notion
or dogma on religion or politics, 6tc. These are
but stepping.stones to the more severe form
of deranged intellect—mania. All these morbid
or abnormal conditions have been caused by the
intellect having taken a false view, or wrong
channel. I think medical men will soon be able
to gather much valuable information on this dis-
ease by studying moral law more dosehr. That
there are hereditary constitutions and diseases is
a fact beyond dispute ; for example, the scrofulous
diathesis is decidedly hereditary, the patient, oon-
aeqnenUy, being predisposed to phthisis or con-
sumption. Insanity is considered to be hereditary ;
but the cases on record where it has descended
from parant to child are very few, so that it can
only be considered hereditablc to a sli^t de^rea.
Can the oflbpring eradicate this predisposition
inherited fW>m the parent? This is a question oa
which there is much difference of opinion ; but
the nuyority of pathologists give their evidence ia
favour of the affirmative, in which opinion I most
decidedly coincide. I am well aware that phthisis
and the scroMous diathesis, or king's evil, have
remained dormant in the second and third gena-
ration, and appeared with increased virulence in
the fourth; a fact which tends to nullify tha
opinion above stated. But in hereditary diseasaa
there is one circumstance that ought never to ba
lost sight of, viz., the similar or contracted habita
of the oflkpring. For instance, it is said that gout
is hereditary. We find a nobleman who possesses-
a very large estate leads a very active life, spend-
ing much of his time in foxhunting, shooting, and
other active exercises, living above par, and in-
dulging in the luxuries of the table, drinkin^^
port, 6ic. If his active career is out short, or
any circumstance should happen to prevent this
activity, and cause him to lead an inactive and
iiidolvnt life, as by old age, &c.,he is, as a natural
consequence, attacked with gout. When he dies
the estate is led to the son, who is placed in tha
same circumstances and the same temptations as
his father, with the same influences acting npon
him. He will, most likely, lead a similar life,
and contiract the same habits, as his father ; and
consequentiy, whr^n compelled to live in an in-
active, indolent stale, gout appears. Can the
scroAilouB taint be induced into a constitution,
entirely free from it 7 This is a question which
does not admit of doubt. Mr. Bei^amin Phillips^
F.K.S., surveon to Westminster Hospital, has
wriiteu a valuable work on scroftila, in which he
says, that if you were to give him the most healthy
child bom, he could induce a decided scrofulous
diathesis. And now to answer the quooion of
your correspondent. To the first question, as to
whether he should be deterred from contractin|t
matrimony 7 If this afiUction has not auadced
the parenu for generations back, I answer. No !
and I repeat it most empkaUeaUy and umketi
taUngly. Neither will any moral culpability
attach to him. To complete the answer, the only
fear that exists is, the oflkpring of the affiicteA
parent being bom more or less idiotic 1 have,
perhaps, enlarged too much ; but I have done so
because I know of no work that would exactly
suit the inquirer. There is a small work pub-
lished by Churchill, and written by Dr. Millingen,
on the treatment and management of the insane.
There is another work,entitied, *' Insanity Tested
by Science," showing the disease to be rarely
connected with orffanic lesion of the brain, by
C. M. Burnett, M.D., published by Highley and
Son, 32, FleeUstreet. There is a work br Dr.
Conolly, but, as I have not road it, it would not
become me to speak as to its merits or demerits.*-^
AKTBUR SCATLIFF, M.U.C.S. and L.S.A.
128. Dissenting Colleges.—'* Eameet" is in-
fonned that the requirements for entering dia-
senting colleges are so various, that no general
standwd can be laid down. If be oontemplafeea
entering one he must be guided by his own cir-
cumstances and attainments in making aseleotioD.
The following extract fVom the " Begulationa*'or
one of considerable standing may be of service to
him >-" The plan of education has been arranged
to meet the circumatancas (tf two distinct classes
THB DTQUIRBB*
437
<^ stadmtB— tho«e of adnmoed general edaea-
don, and thOM wboM reqairtmeuts are more
limited. It therefore oompriees two sepamte
of etadjr : one properly theological, which
ocwqiiei fonr setsione; and one oomprising
Hebrew and the Aranu»an dielecte, Greek and
Roman elanice, English literature, mathematics,
and mental pbiloaopixj, in which students mtnain
aa long as mmj be necessary to prepare them, in
the way of information or diseipline, for the
sCadiaa more immediately connected with the
ministry. In conformity with this arrangement,
apphcationt aie reeeiTed from yoong men who,
either at a ttntTemity or elsewhere, have attained
a proficieney in the branches of study just
enumerated for admission to the theological coarse
only; and from others, for admission to both
eooracs. Every applicadou for admission must
be nuMie by letter, addressed to the Chairman of
the Board of Education, and must state briefly,
bat explicitly, the candidate's age, his belief, the
length of time he has made a religious profession,
hia motiTea for desirinf? the ministerial work, his
pfwrioos edocation, and the extent to which his
education is advanced. It should be acoompanied
by a letter of recommendation ftt>m bis pastor, a
certificate of health from some medieal prac-
titioner, and such other testimonials as he may
be able to procure." New College, London, in
eonnmiou with the Congregational body, is a
most important institution. It has recently been
formed by the amalgamation of several distinct
eolleaes. Its principal is Dr. Harris, the author
of ** Mammon," "The Pre-Adamite Earth," &o..
See. ; who is assisted by Professors W. Smith,
LL.D. -, Philip Smith, B.A. ; J. H. Godwin ; B.
Lankester, M.D., LL.D., &c. ; and Maurice
Nenner. Other information may be had on ap-
plication peramially, or by letter, at the College,
Einehley-road, St. John's Wood ; and pro-
speecnae* may be had at Jackson and Walford's,
SL Paul's Churchyard, London. — A. G.
194. TkeBe»iMfethodqf8tudvingMathematie$,
with Advice to 8tvdenU.—lt will not, I hope, be
simosed that an endeavour to supply the infor-
mauon which ** A Lover of Nature" needs, implies
any presumption of being entitled to rank with
the gifted few whom he spears to consider as
alone competent to repW to his queries ; or that
the foUowin^r statments, based as they are partly
on my own limited experience as a student, partly
on the testimony of others, are not liable to be
eontroverted by a more extensive and careful in-
duction of iNsrticulars.
In the study of mathematics, the analytical
method, or method of resolution (which is pro-
bably that by which most propositions and
theorems in the pure mathematics were first dis-
oovMvd), is considered by many scientific men to
be the moat nseftal as amental discipline ; although
the synthetical, or method of composition, bring
in use in the schools, and better adapted for rapid
progrew, is preferable for a member of a univer-
siqr, cspcdally if he be ambitious of a high place
at the examinations. In the wot king of examples,
however, and proving deductions even, he will
frequently find it convenient, and even necessary,
to lesort to analysis. In both methods the pen
abould be constantly In hand ; propositions svn-
thetically proved, which have been committed to
memory, should be writtsn out, without book,
onee at leaM, and it is utterly impossible to follow
out any long analytical processes without writing.
Numerous examples of both methods are given in
Mr. Potts' admirable university edition of Euclid,
which, together with Goodwin's ** Coarse," and
the ** Collection of Problems and Examples," forms
a complete and harmonious curriculum of elemen-
tary mathematical study. The latter work is tho
best of its kind, and, for the particular object with
which it was written, there is no other. A few
alterations might perhaps be advantageously
made ; but most of the propositions are concisely
stated and clearly proved, and are free from uii>-
neoessary illustrations and deductions, which only
serve to bewilder and discourage the student.
The treatise on astronomy, however, is too elemen-
tarut has not illustration sufficient, and should be
replaced by Sir J. Herschel's **Outlmes"— a
masterpiece of its kind, and which has completely
thrown into the shade all previous popular works
on the same subject
The study of mathematics is not, generally
speaking, to be regarded as detrimental to the
health of prisons whose constitutions are sound.
Combe amrms it to be conducive to longevity, in-
asmuch as it calls into operation the reasoning
faculties alone, and is opposed to that wild play
of the imagination nnd exaltation of feeling which »
in poets, priests, artists, and others, whose province
lies amid works of imagination and fiction, occa-
sionaltv terminates in madness. I am happy to
Bive this testimony in favour of mathematics, as,
urom some remarks made in answer to 8. £. E.
(p. 397), it might appear that I thought the study
per <e, prgudicial to the health. They were
suggested by the circumstance of a friend, who is
extremely subject to headache, and otlierwise of
sickly constitution, having been ordered by an
eminent physician never to open a mathematical
book, nor rrad a proposition, at the risk of loiiiDg
that inestimable blessing for which Juvenal tells
us we should pray — the tnena sana in corpore
sano. He consequently left college altogether.
Nevertheless this study, considered with reference
to the nervous system, is undoubtedly, to persons
of strong, clear intellect, less irritating than the
generality of literary pursuits. Abercrombie, in
his *< Intellectual Powers," tries to prove that
mathematicians are generally credulous and super-
stitious ; but the evidence he ofl'ers is inconclusive.
There is an able, though partizan, and therefore
one-sided, view of mathematical study as a means
of education, in Sir W. Hamilton's '* Philosophi-
cal Transactions," recently published. It appears
needless to say. after what precedes, that no per-
son, be his constitution sound or weak, would
think, if he were wise, of devoting two years, or
one year, or even a single month, to the exclusive
study of abstract science. The mind, under such
treatment, would become cramped and lose its
elasticity. It cannot be idle ; nor can it be occu-
pied for twelve hours in the day with mathematics ;
and if nothing else is ofl'ered to its attention, the
inference is plain — it will fall to castle-building, a
most pemiaous habit Six hours a day of close,
absorbing study, is amply stifficient, even /or those
who aspire to the highest honours Cambridge has
to confer, and for the majority, who are less am^
bitious, three or even two hours a day is enough,
according to capacity. None should study above
two hours at the same sitting. I'he attention,
chained down too long to one sul^jeot, wearies,
and should be refreshed, either by physical exes-
438
TBI nr<2unum.
ciM, or bjr tonnng for a Um« to woriu of a difflv-
«nt chamoter— hUtOTT, trmvf U, biofimpby, iBenta]
and moral philosophy, and etpecintty yoelrjf.
Work! of natural history, and of human and
eomparatire physiology, idso offer a daltght/Ul
resouroe to the student during the intervale of
•everer study. But in ohoosing a eourse of read-
ing from among the numerous branches of litera-
ture which offer themselvee, with their minor
ramifleations, it is necessary to exerdiie disoretioh.
HappUy for universi^ students, this is d me for
them to some extent, inasmuch as all are required
to pay some attention to the claMsieal writers of
ancient Greece and Rome, the fountain heads at
which nearly all the grrat minds of modem times
have drunk largely. But other elements, besidee
mathematics and classics, will neeessarily enter,
more or leu, into every student's intelleotual
nutriment, in the selection of which, as of food for
the body, he must be careful to have one staple
preponderating element, to which all the others
ahould be subsidiary, and to vary the preponder-
ating element seldom, but the eubeidiary as often
as occasion requires. It is not, however, abso-
lutely necessary that the minor elements should
be invariably subsidianr to the staple, but de-
partures from the rule should be few and of short
contlnuanee. Nothing weakens the powers of in-
vention more than deeultor^f miMellaneous read-
ing, espeoially if performed in a careless, irrefleo-
tive manner. Everyone should have some definite
objeot in view in reading, and, as much as possible,
make every book read subservient to that object.
There is some useful advice on this sulgeot in
Todd's *' Student's Guide" (cap. iv.) ; and in a work
by O. Combe, on " The Constitution of Man Con-
sidered in Relation to External Objects." general
rules are given for the proper disposal of one's
time (cap. iv.); both or which works I would
earnestly commend to the attention of all who
keep the physical, intellectusl, and moral improve-
ment, of tliemselves and f^ mankind, constantly
in view. Upon those also who have one footon the
threshold of the temple of science, but who stand
in doubt whether they have eny right to enter, or
whether any advantage is to be gained by doing
•o, I would strongly urge a carefUl and attentive
•tudv of Sir John Herschel's " Discourse on the
Study of Natural Philosophy."— A TaiNiTT Mam.
126. The PhmrmmcetUtcdl Society 9 E*i%mina-
iiona.~-\n reply to the former part of W. B.'s
<)ueeHon, reepecting the kind of examhiation re-
Suired to be passed for admission as a member of
le Pharmaoeutica] Society of Great Britain, I
think the following may be relied on, the writer
having himself passed the ordeal. The candidate
must send a notice to the secretary a month pre-
vious, of his intention to present himself. The
Board of Examiners sit the second Tuesday in
the month. The candidate must possees a very
tolerable acquaintance with the Ladn language,
and be thoroughly fhmiliar with pbyticiaus' pre-
•criptions. Chemistry occupiea an important
plaoe, especially that of the FhannaoopoBiia ; he
must be conversant with the spnbols and alomic
weights of the demenlary bodies, the doetrinee of
the Bcienoe, as well as the method <>mployed prac-
tically in the manuAtoture of all the chemicals
that enter a chemist's shop. Under the branch
of materia medica he will be expected to know at
sight the botanical name and naturalorder of any
drug presented to him, its medical propertiee,
dose, and the mode of its proouring. In botany
he must know the specific name and natural
order of all the medica] plants to a fresh state,
write the determinate oheraoters of a few of the
more common natural orders, and be acquainted
with the scientific names of the dilto«nt parts of
a plant In addition to the above, he must be
(kmiliar with the use of tests, whether for adultera-
tions or poisons, and be ready with the beet
antidotes and treatment for the latter. The ex-
pense, provided W. B. is up in these branches,
will be one guinea. If not. the best books he can
study will be Phillips's "TranalaUon ot Phar-
maoopceia," Fowne's "Manual of Chemistry"
Pereira's ** Materia Medica," LInAey's •« School
Botany." But (br better than books alone would
be attendance at the School of Pharmacy, Blooma-
bury-square, where he will have the advantagv of
lectures on these subieots, aeupital museum, aomts-
sion into the Regent s Park Botanical Gardens, and
the acquisition of practical chemistry in an excel-
lent laboratory, under the direction of Profeeeor
Redwood, whose eminence as a pharmaoeudeal
chemist is only equalled by the respect entertained
by all who have had the privilege of his assidnooa
tuition. The expense for five months is £\b 15a. ;
let W. B. enter for that term, he will then be in a
position to know if frirther study will be reqoieito
to pass.
In reply to the second qneetion, there b not at
present any body examining in chemistry eoMy.
The London University, by a recent diaiter, has
the privilege of instituting examinatione, and
giving degrees In diilbrent departments of soenoe,
but it has not yet been oanied into effect. The
degrpc generally obtained by chemists is that oT
Ph. D., from one of the Gennan universillea. —
J. L. H. D.
1S8. If err o/or.— In answer to yoor eorrespoa>
dent, "Irene." who wishesto know about Mereaior^
I may observe :— Gerard Mercator was a dia-
tiujguished Flemish geographer and mathema-
tieian. bom in lAlS. After receiving an exeellant
olassieal education, and taking the o^tm of M.A.
in the University of Louvalne, he began at the
age of twenty-four to learn the ait of engraving,
and his fint production was a deecriptive map of
the HoIt Land. In 1641 he made a terrestrial
globe, which procured for him the patronage of
the Emperor, Charlee V., bv whom he was eat-
ployed to eonstruet several maps, globae, and
mathematical inetmmcnts. He published acrera]
mape of the world, Europe, France, Germany,
the British Islands, &c., and died in IMI, at tha
age of seventy- nine«— J. B.
Thinking leads man to knoiwledge. He may iee and hear, and read and learn, what-
ever he pleases and as mach as he pleases: be will never know anything of it, except
that which he has thought over, that which by thinking he has made the piopertj of hia
mind.
THB TOUKO STUDBirr ASO WBITEB's AasiSTAHT.
439
€^ ^nirag ItnittDt anil Wvitfi iJsaistBDl
GHAMMAB CLASS.
Bxtreitea in Grammar. No. X.
1. Point oat the difference between apenonal
pronoun and a relative.
S. Point oat the difference between a relative
pronoim and an adjective pronoun.
3- Give inatances of words which are both per-
aoual pronoane and atUeetive pronouns at different
times, and show why they are so.
4. Give the origin ofihe words t*«, Win, Ai»,Aer,
•U,tMat, what, vhieh, mad »uek.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
* SOLUTIONS.— IX.
AriUmetU and Algebra.
<iu«9Hon32, 4 4 4
a o e
0 b
a'^b"
= LVV-*=3
a b c
12
bj sabtraetiDg —-1
3rd X 9
Ut X 3.
1
1
q
(1)
(2)
(3)
e
c=18
6^12^
sobfltitnte IS for e
in aeeond equation
transposing, &0. e| ^-.^ge
ft=10A
anbstitatine 10^ for 1 __ + JL -ai
6 in third equation ; a lOA
xbylO^a 60H+6aslO|V
cnoapoaing, Ace. 4^ a=:00i}
A, in 14| days ; \
B. in lOA dars : >• — Jm$,
L, in 14| days ; \
J.inlOAdays;[— .
Mn 12 days. )
D. D. S.
100x3
QMetlion 33. Here— ^^=£3^ interest in the
Three per Cents, at 96; pat x = required price :
^ ioox2i aao. . ,
tkcn ^s — mterost in the Two-and<i^Half
per Cento, at x ;
ISO 350
whenee 100 : 105 ::-7zr: —
49 X
or SO' Si •• — • —
^ I ^A I ^jQ- Oie produce of rate.
W.D.
Que»tion35. 7«+8y=137 (1)
8x+7y=128 (2)
subtracting (1) from (S)*-y=l .-.yz^x-l (3)
sobstituting in (1) the value of y, and reducing
15*=135 '^
.*• Xs:]l
aadyssx— I,or0— ls8. p. t.
&eo«iie(ry.
Queslton 10. The curve sar&ee of a right cone
is half the product of the perimeter of the base into
the slant side ; hence this product, added to the
area of the base, gives the superfidai content n-
qoired.
Slant side:
curve surfaces:
>/aO«+»»=SlM;
21*54x10x31410
«641'360012;
•.x=22ft.
— Atis.
63 9 100 . „
.*. i^=.^= — and 9*
40 7 X
7
77 ^ lliie reqidred pHee.
700 and x =s-^«
9
£5
W.D.
^1,500,
QHCSfiofi 34. ;ei00 : £30,000
amount of rent;
£100 : £80 :: £1^ : £l;i00, the amount (o be
area of bases: 10* X 7S51 s201-0624 ;
superficiid content,
=54i-360512+20l0624=742-422912 sq.in.->l. K.
QueMtion 17. Put x for diameter of smaller
circle, or that described by the inside wheel, then
diameter of circle described by outer wheel =x+ 1 1 .
Now, the drcumferenoe of the outer circle is to
cireumfereuce of inner drole as 3 to 2, and the
diameters are in the same ratio,
.-.x+U :»::3:8 .*.9x+22=3x
.'. Circumference of inner cirole,
=22x3-1416s001152 feet;
.'. circumference of outer cirole,
=33 x3141«= 103-6788 feet.
Qu««<(on 18. Ciroomference of base of cylinder.
=25x31416=7'e64fe<:l
.'. superficies of cylinder,
= 7 854 X 20=15708 feet.— ^n*.
Or, if we add the area of the two ends,
=:4-90tf75x 2=9 8175;
the total superflces,
= 166 8975 feet— ^7i#. C. D. S.
MeehaaiCM.
QfUMtion 15. We leave this question open
another month.
Question 16. The pressure of water on a given
part of the vessel containing it = the weight of a
column of water whose base = in area the given
part, and whose height = the mean height of water
above that part
.'. 6 X 10 X y X 02^ = 18,750 lbs. = pressure on
flood-gate. W. H. H.
QUESTIONS FOR SOLUTION.—XI.
Arithmetic and Algebra.
40. In what lime will five shillings become five
pounds, at five per cent per annum, simple in-
tereat?
41. In what time will five shiningB become five
pounds, at five per cent per annum, compound
mterest?
42. A house, garden, and field, are, together,
worth a rental of £180 per annum ; the house and
garden, £150 ; and the garden and field, £90.
What is the rental of each?
440
KOTXCES OF BOOKS.
43. 3x«+17y=317, and 3y «+17x=173, to
find X and y.
Geametiy.
SO. Required the weight of a hemUpherioal
copper bowl, when filled with water, whose in-
ternal diameter ia 18 inches, and the averajge
thickness a quarter of an inch, the specific gravity
of copper bemg 8-076?
Meehaniu,
10. It has been found that the resistance to a
train of eight carriages is 50 lb. when the train
moves at tlie rate of lOmiles per hour. Required
the horse-power neeessary to oonvejr a train of
tlut size, and weighing 50 tons, at the rate of 50
miles per hour.
jintina itf %mh.
The Autobioffraphy qf Wittiam Jerdan.with hu
Literary tPolltical, and Social Reminiscences
and Correspondence during the last Fifty
Years. VoLII. London: Hall, Virtue, and Co.
We regard this volume as unequal in interest
with its predecessor. At the onset Mr. Jerdau
devotes too much space to criticising his critics.
In his first volume he made, as we stated, some
humbling remarks on literature as a profession,
and made them in such a way as to imply regret
that he had pursued it. This has drawn upon
him the censure of some of hisbrethrcu, who,
standing up for the dignity of " our order,' have
fi-cely suggested that the error might lie in the
complainant, and not in his profession. Now. it
appears to us that here, as in many other dis-
putes, there is some truth on both sides. That
literature and literati receive the support which is
their due few will maintain ; while that William
Jerdan was not a very prudent or provident roan
the readers of this volume must admit. In fact,
he confesses some fiiulto, and appears conscious
of others, as he exclaims —
** O ! would some power the giftie gie us.
To see oursels as ithers see us ;
It would ftroe mony a blunder free us.
And foolish notion."
After Mr. Jordan has rebuked his rebukers, he
ftivours us with a farther history of his connexian
with the Sun, which terminates in a long account
of anything but a creditable quarrel between liim-
•elf and his partner, and which was wound up
bV serious litigation and loss. As we read t.ie
sickening details we could not but fee) that the
practice of a few elementary lessons on friendship
and forgiveness would have prevented all this.
In 1817 Jerdan, having left the Sttn, became
editor of the Literary Gazette, and connected
with Messrs. Pinnock and Maunder, two of the
world-wide names of literature. He presents his
readers with some notices of his contributors, and
many short extracts from their writings. It
appears that Barry Cornwall made his delnit in
the Literary Oaxette for 1818; and we find the
following beautiful lines among his earlier
pieces : —
** Gone from her cheek is the summer bloom.
And her breath hath lost iU faint perfume,
And the gloss hath dropt from her golden hur.
And her forehead is pale, though no longer fiiir.
" And the spirit that sate on her soft blue eye
Is struck wifli cold mortalitv ;
And the smile that played on her lip hatli
fled.
And every grace hath now left the dead.
" Like slaves they obeyed her in the height of
And left her all in the wintry hour ; [power.
And the crowds which swore for her love to die.
Shrank from the tone of her last sad sigh.
And this is Man's fidelity*.
*i 'Tis Woman alone, with a firmer heart.
Can see aU these idols of life depart,
And love the more, and soothe, and bless,
Man in his utter wretchedness."
Under Jerdan the Literary Gazette ^)pe«rs to
have increased in circulation; but this was pro-
bably as much owing to the efforts of the ecu.
tribulors as those of the editor himself. Strange
as this opinion may seem, it naUuully arises
from noticing the names and reputation of many
of the former, and the evident carelessness of the
hitter. If a man can allow himself to be in-
different to the literary execution of a work like
the present, he would not be more attentive to
one of a less permanent character.
Let not this judgment be deemed harsh, for in
it we give our author credit for ability where it has
not been displayed, and attributed that to care-
lesBuess which might have been put down to a
want of disoemmait. The following; extracts we
hesitate not to append, in order to illustrate our
meaning, and afford a suggestive lesson to our
" neophyte" writers.
Speaking of the editor of the Standard, he
says:—*' His son, Dr. Qiffard, is now one of the
ablest political writers of the age ; and, educated
under such a fkther, it is not surprising that he
should be as zealous as he is powerful ; as is
testified by the Standard newspaper, and every-
where else where his pen is tcieldtd"
Referring to duelling he remarks :— *• Party
spirit rages, as it too generally does, in Dublin at
this time, and was attkndko by constant
duels, in supemedit^ which there is undoubtedly
some improvement.'
Of Mr. Chalmers he bears this testimony :—
•< He had a thorough eiyoyment of the good
things of social life, to which his conversation
eontribuUd the appendages qf pleasurabk in-
telUgenee and instruction."
The exiled Princess of Cond^, his ** proximate
neighbour" at Little Chelsea, is the inelegant sub-
jeot of the following laufdiable description:—
** The daughter of the murdered King of France
dressed little better than a milkmaid, which rank,
indeed,she much resembled inform, atul walking
about in thick-soled boots."
Space warns, or we might have given " a perfect
shower of radiant sims which have iUlen from
our author's ** shivering quills," but we prefer bid
ding him adieu for the present, and. with a good-
tempered smile,leavingliim— to use his own figure
—**like apeacockfthehero qfhis own foie'^tail r).
BY TUB AXTTHOIl OP "tIIE ABT OF REASOSTINO.*
No. XII.— ON STYLE.
Satire, to be pani^ent, most contain a considerable amount of truth ; hence tho
I caasticitj of the wit of him who said, Language has three purposes to subserve — Ist. To
^ceal thought; 2Qd. To conceal the want of thought; 3rd. To reveal thought. With
*^it a keen eye most he have looked upon and seen through the falsitios, the hypocrisies,
u^ cormplions, the shams, of our ordinary social life! Uow accurately has he perceived
w tedious malignity of scandal-mongers— the wordy eloquence of the dull and thought-
^! How cleverly has he peeped behind the veil of politic cozenage, sentimental
Bothiogneases, and hollow-hearted pretence I Rut no satirist, however "accrbis facttiis
{fKidtre solitui* — accustomed to scoff with bitter jestings—can be true to his vocation
vitlwat being at once a humourist and a moralist, so that we must look beneath the
ttrfsce of the words for the moral truth contained in this jeu detprlt. It appears to us
to imply that thinking is the true function of human life — that, as Intellectuality is our
^iS^Mst prerogative and most God-like attribute, its proper use ought also to be our
^Q&it care. This entirely accords with our own opinion. Language should be the
Qpoocnt not only of what is true, but also of what ovght to be so. He who absorbs him-
<^ wholly in worldly gratifications — in those delights which belong to him as " the
^iotetsence of dust" — is deaf to *' the voice of God," with which the universe resounds —
^(ititDte of a due appreciation of the purest and most ecstatic joys which have been
*&>tted to the tenants of this '' nether globe," and guilty of soul-suicide. Man is essen-
^y **a beinj; breathing tlioughtful breath." Truth is the aliment which his soul
^4iret; and *^ Truth is thought which has assumed its appropriate gannents, whether of
*'<>nU or actions." Truth-search and thought-utterance, these are the great duties of
*»> The world has endorsed this opinion by crowning with *' blessings and eternal
psiM* the thinking members of the human race, whether their thinkings have resulted
B the inuncvtalizatiQn of marble, by imparting to it the visible presence of beauty—-
^kuldiog the quarried rock into architectural sublimity — touching *' the kindling canvas
'tolife'* — tncing the orbit-path of distance-hidden stars — performing the various chemical
^ttipnhtinns— the achievement of patriot deeds — adding to the comforts and conveniences
\ rftiiHsnce — making " the glittering arrows of the Almighty the medium between soul and
*bI Jnmdreds of miles apart" — or revealing, in " the sweet music of words)!' all tliat
fanqniw in the "faiiy-land of thought." To think is an eternal necessity of the mind;
to tsjnm tlie ccnceptioos which pass witliin us is an irrepressible desire. Tluit which
wmd be done we ought to endeavour to do well. Hence arises at once tl^e need and the
■M of our iastrnctioiie in Style. We grant you that in glTing these we have beeu dull
2 m
442 KHETOKIC. — SO. XII.
and prosaic: but not more so, we hope, tban the necessities of the case warrant; for,ii
Father Malebranche remarks, " it is impossible in all discourses to more the senaei sod
imaginations of others; nor ou^rbt it always to be done. * * • Writers of coinedto
and romances are obliged to please, and so procure attention ; but for us it is suHlcicDt if
we can instruct even tho:ie that labour to make themselves attentive."* But to oar task,
with cheerfulness and care.
IV. Strength. — Strength is the power of moving others at will. In enabling us to
move, excite, and persuade men, words are peculiarly efficacious. Perspicuity, Ciaicij*"
ness, and Unity, are all elements in Strength, which latter supposes language to be
animated with an earnest and intensified purpose, and to be so selected and disposed tlut
the end in view may be efficiently wrought out. Strength, then, is that quality of S^^
which presents our ideas with the greatest possible force to the minds of those whom «t
wish to move. Upon the selectitm and arrangement of words the Strength of a senteoce
depends. " If words have all their possible extent of power, three effects arise in the misil
of the hearer. The Jirst is the soutid ; the second is the picture or representation of tbc
thing signified by the sound; the third is the affection of soul produced by one or by botiiof
the foregoing." f When all these three effects are produced, language has done its utmoit
How these may be produced is the problem before us. The senses are the primary somtcf
from which knowledge is derived, and hence the opening mind can onlj be intellectaalittd
by being led to see Truth through a sensuous medium. The real is much more estilT
apprehended than the ideal. In the choice of wonU, therefore, those which are dmI
specific and most clearly expressive of circumstantialities ought to be preferred to tboM
which are abstract and general. ^* The more general the terms are, the picture it tbt
fainter; the more special they are, it is the brighter." It b only by a judicious sekctioa
of what may be called picturesque words — words which place ideas before the mind witk
a Tivid embodiment, an appearance of circumstantial actuality — that a strong impmso
can be made. " To make words paint, as if with brush and canvas, is a Tery high efiirt
of literary art." " Picturesque language," says Emerson, ** is at once a commaB^ilS
certificate that he who employs it is in alliance with Truth and God." Specificality «f
terms renders tortuous circumlocution unnecessary, vapid redundancy impossible, lal
ambiguity of phrase unachievable if attempted. Terseness, brevity, and deamess fl*
needful, if we desire forcefully to impress, mightily to move, or earnestly to nrge on tb*
human mind. The flatulent, the flippant, the frothy, the bombastic, do not move 1*
anything but laughter and contempt. Direct, straightforward, and sustained, most be tbi
force which is intended to persuade to thought or action. Vagoenoss, generality, fteble-
ness, and obscurity, are all adverse to this. Every phrase and figure employed most be M
chosen and so disposed as to im^Hvss the mind strongly, and set the ideas before it detflj
and completely. Precision of terms and brevity of expression, in opposition to wfaatcnrii
ambiguous or superfluous; effective disposition and impressive arrangement, in of^watiol
to nerveless and languid carelessness, is what must form the main object of study te Us
who would express his ideas strongly, or impress his hearers or readers vividly.
• '• IUcherch« de la Veritf/' liv. HL cap. i.
+ Burke, *' On tlie Su' H.-ne aiiJ Beau:ifu)," tfxt r. attt iv.
ILUETORIC.— NO. XII. 443
n^anUng ^ what to aim at and what to avoid " we saltjoin, in order to give
onn and predaioo to these otherwise disjointed remarks: —
lit Be coodse. Eschew rerbositj : concentration of force is always advisable. Strength
is eoplojed in the empire of mind for the same parp3sics as force in the realms of matter^-
1» to coonteract opposing force or forces, and thereby to produce eqailibrium ; 2, to
wercome inertioo, and produce motion. The more directly, therefore, the force is brought
to bear upon the riglit point, the better. ^Icre epithets, and the profuse relation of un-
JMcessaiy circumstances, are condemned by this rule.
2&d. Place the more important words in such situations as shall ensure the greatest
attention. It is a principle of the human mind that the most vivid part of any thought—
^wliich most strongly affects the speaker, or occupies the greatest prominence in his
I'lJBd— demands ntterance first; hence great attention may be secured for an important
'"ri or clause by placing it at the beginning of a sentence ; e. g.^ " Great is the Lord, and
^ great power.** — " Tkey aank^ as lead, in the mighty waters." But if it be desirable to
^n the mind, to sustain the attention, and pi'^ne curiosity, it is advisable to place the
«
''"portant word or clause at the end of the sentence; e. ^., "All these things will I give
^ if thou tciU/all down and worship me.'' — '' I confe:^ it sometimes makes me shudder
^fnajfowuf rake clasp his arms round the maist of a pure and innocent girV^^
M. So arrange the various clauses of sentences that they may appear in the order of
wir relative importance; i. e., let them rise in a climax. No weaker assertion should
MKned a stronger one as corroborative of it, for the natural properties of speech in general
i>fure that the proof adduced sliould be stronger than the thing sought to be proven
>7 it. It is bad policy to put out all one's streugth at the onset ; the force which
'MxaacB in power as it is exerted is more valuable than that which becomes weaker by
e^Bditnre.
4tli. Employ specific words, when suitable, in preference to genenil or abstract ones.
«lrAo2e chug of sensible objects can be described by an individual member of it; if an
^'^^luetrnd sul ject can be illustrated by a reference to sensible objects, or an abstract idea
^ Bore readily intelligible by an analogy between it and any perceptible quality in
*9*cti;amore striking impression is made upon the mind than if we neglected these
lidtt of definitely representing our thoughts to the mind; e. g.: —
M
O'er raany a dark and dreary vale
Tb«y passed, and many a region dolnrous ;
O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp,
Bocks, caves, lakes, fens, bugs, dens, and shadei^ of death —
A univene t^f death."
^ WIkb resemUance or contrast of ideas requires expression, a similar or contrary
*ris tf ooDstmction should, in general, be employed ; an equal nmnber of correlative
*Mdi, lypiopriatdy adjectivized, should be used in each of the antithetical clauses, and
IfceM ongbt, as nearly aa possible, to be of equal length. This antithetical uniformity
iffl be fi>imd beftutifnlly exemplified in Johnson's comparison between Dryden and Pope,
V weO aa in the fbUowiDg sentences, viz. : —
• Lon§fello»'s "llyucrion."
444 p.nETORic. — »o. xir.
** Virtue l» like precious odours, most Tragrant when they are incensed or crushed ; for prospni
doth best discoTcr vice, but adrersity doth best discover virtue." — Bacon i Esaajf," QfAdrfnUff:
" The joys of parents are secret, and so are their griels and fears ; they cannot utter the oue, u
will they utter the other. Cliildren sweeten labour, but they make misfortiwes more bitter; t)>.
increase the cares of life, but they mitigate the remembrance of death." — Bacon's " Of ParthU a
Children."
6th. Never, if able to avoid it, terminate a sentence witli an undignified v.orJ
phrase ; c. g,^ " That is a matter I shall require to think of."
7th. Let your thoughts be closely knit together, and never introduce expletives
intervening clauses, unless when absolutely necessary to strengthen the desired iu^prei:: •
See that you be not of those to whom Swift says —
** Epithets you link,
In gaping lines, to fill a chink,
Like stepping-stones, to save a stride,
In streets where kennels are too wide ;
Or, like a heel-piece, to support
A cripple with one foot too short."
V. Vivacity. — Mvacity is the result of a combination of many excellence?, such
novelty, uncommonness, contrast to common-place, geniality, heartiness, and sprii^h!!
fluency of languaj;e. These give a smack to composition wliich makes the reader re!is<
and admire it. Novelty is always delightful to man's fickle and changeable humour; fs:
strange, or that which lies beyond our own experience, excites and attracts attentics
anything opposed to the routine or habitual use and wont of ordinary life awakes tbe
thought-powers of man. Tlie manifestation of warm, loving, .«!ympathetic feelings, larje-
heartedness, genuine philanthropy, and racy good nature, as they excite similar feeling
withm us, please and gratify our nature. Anything that strongly affects the hnncaa
susceptibilities, and stirs uuitedly the aficctions and the intellect, adds to the vivacitj of
Style, because it originates an intensified power of apperception in the reader or hwH^*
Thoughts are thus introduced at once to different faculties of the intellect, and wb^*
their interest is simultaneously gained, the capacities of idea-reception are increased, i^
easy, animated, flowing, figurative, and refined colloquiality tends much to the prodnctiflO
of a vivacious Style. Of course, we mean that the Style should be adapted to th?
thoughts to be expressed, and do not at all wish to be understood as advising an af^ctci
familiarity and jocularity of expression on unsuitable occasions; we merely recoromen<l tb«
acquisition of that humanity of spirit which, expanded by love to all, and glowing ^^
tenderness towards all, imparts a healthy heartiness and genuine cheerfulness to t^
effort which we make to z«form or reform others. We have already more than C5C«
•asserted that Thought and Style are twin-children of the Intellect; and all we can ptteai
to do here is to recommend a few directions for rearing them healthily, and enabling tbcO
to get over the diseases incident to the immaturity of infancy and youth. ViTadtjflf
Style, therefore, will chiefly result from the inner nature of a man. If he feels as KeH tl
thinks — is emotive as well as intellectual — his Style must be vivadoos and stiikii^p
There will be a loving sort of enthusiasm interblended with his greatest thooi^ts, tn
common-place will not befog his comjiositions ; but a gratifying earnestness, a systpatlM^
kindJJaess, a kind of continual good-humooredness, will suffuse all that ho does or ssji
RHETORIC. — yO. XII. 445
'TUre Are, therefore, few directions regarding verbal usages required under this division of
oariabject: the heart which seeks to affect me must previously have been affected itself.
The gnsp of a death-cold hand will not warm my blood, neither will a dry, feelingless
proeaii^ity arouse my emotive nature. X^ook to your own hearts ; feel there, then express
Jonrstlves.
hi Avoid an overstrained diguifiedness as much as a lev;, vulgar chit-chatiness and
kalUemcnt,
2nJ. Think clearly, then choose the most expressive terms to embody your thoughts.
Tie nun who merely "blunders round a meaning" can never write willi vivacity.
3ri Avoid a drawling, expletive, loquacious verbosity of speech or writing.
4th. Choose those figures of speech or illustrations wliich will be most likely to interest
^<^^ vhom you address, and that phraseology which is most suitable to tlie topic under
year cnnsiJeration.
^ !• H.uiMoxy. — Harmony refers to those melodious cadences which give agrceability
^^ Stvle. It dej)ends upon the choice and arrangement of words. Some combinations of
letters are more easily pronounceable than others, .ind such words are, in general, more
gndfyujg to the ear thau those of more difficult articulation. Euphonism is certainly a
high attainment in composition, as it is necessary that there should be an accordance
wtween the sound and the sense, a sort of correlative symphoniousness between tho
thought and the words employed to express it; yet we would never advise the sacrifice of
tzpresaireness to hannony. Whenever harmony can be introduced as the auxiliur}' of the
fsr^jing qualities of Style it is right to introduce it; but, unless clearness is to be added
^ oar conceptions by tlic use of harmonious and cadenced words, we ouglit rather to avoid
t^r use. To attempt to express anger, indignation, or invective in the namby-pamby
tnsi£cation of Waller, or soul-nerving enthusiasm in the cold classicality of the Addisonian
Foie, wonld simply be ridiculous, and could only bo parallelled by the folly of an
'li^Toar to utter the airy gracefulness of Moore in the sonorous periodicity of Johnson.
^VR teems to be a natural felicitousness of expression in some authors, which suits
H exactly with their general strain of thought, that no contrast between the ideas and
^ expression is ever felt — no incongniity of matter and manner is ever experienced.
^ is an excellence which the student should deligently labour to acqtiire. The
iztinuUe connexion which exists between ideas and language seems to make tho necessity
^T attention to harmony obvious. Discourse, to be attractive, must be pleasing, not
Pitting and repellant. Quintilian truly remarks, that *' nothing can enter into the
•5i*lwDi which stumbles at the threshold by offending the ear." lit/thmus, or the
idJTistment of tho measure of sounds to tho ideas which we intend to express, has a very
[ l^verfal influence in determining the reception which these ideas shall receive. Eveiy
*Mud, syllable, word, and phrase, ought to be attuned to the sense, and have a relation to
^ monl pnrpose of the writer. If we would do this effectually, we must avoid a stiff
Ud stately diction, strained syntactical inversions, pedantic and erudite terms. We must
nske nothing lingular for the mere love of singularity. True harmony docs not result
fina tba adoption of the most decidedly musical sounds which we can find, but in the
Amt» md fitting wraDgement of those successions of vocables which possess the greatest
fOinUe rthtite melody; that is, such as are most nearly indicative of the feelings which
446 RHETORIC. — VO. XIl.
ought to be originated by such thoughts. Kot the most melodious lounds, but those nuMit
conBonant to the topic of discourse, constitute what rhetoricians denominate Harmonr;
hence the harshest hurly-burly of vocableff may be, in their own places, as accordant with
the principles of Rhetorical Harmony as the choicest " concord of sweet sounds.**
The following passages may be quoted as illustrations of the accuracy of the foreguirp
remarks, viz. : —
1. " Blue-eyed girls
Dronfrht pails and dipped Uiera in the cry«tnl pool,
An«i children, ruddy-cheeked aiid flaxen-huireil,
Gathered the glistening cowslip from its edgtt." — Brymnt's " The Fountain."
2. •* .IboTe them,
Iligh in the air, perched on the precipice.
My foir enchantres:* spied a little flower —
A solitary ro^e — which bloomed distin(>t
Against the sky, and on its tender sulk
Held to the glorious sun and the wide heavens
Its leafy, ncotared chalice; — ^held it tliere,
WiUi laughing boast and bold fragility.
High o'er the heail, beyond the reach or all.
She drew her rein n moment to admire
The little dauntless covetuble flower ;
And my brave knicht, whose eye still follows hciN,
Caught at the hairfonned fancy; setting spurs
To his astonished steed, made up the height;
II e tore his desperate course, and plucked the toy.
The lady shrieked ; but, ere Uie blood bad time
To quit that lovely cheek it revels in,
He brought the panting courser to her side.
The rose was hers."— AT/wifA's Dramas—** Atkelurold."
3. " And at nitrht so cloudless and so still ! Not a voice of living thing — not a wtiiaper of leaf or
waTing bough — not a breath of wind — not a sound upon the earttt, nor in the air ! Aud oveibtai
bends the blue sky, dewy and sod, and radiant with innumerable stars, like Iht iu verted bell of soar
blue flower, sprinkled with golden dust, and breathing trafjanee."— Longfellow's ** Hyperion."
4. " Now swells the intermingling din. The jar,
Frequent and frightTul, of the blasting bomb ;
The falling beam, the shriek, the groan, the shout,
The ceast^less clan^'our, and the rush of men,
Inebriate with rage. Loud and more loud
The discord grows ; till pale death shuts the scene.
And o'er the conqueror and the conquered draws
His cold and bloody Bhronih"— Shelley' $ *' Queen Mob.*'
a. " He has the indisputablest ideas ; but, then, his style! In Tery trutii, it is the stranfe«t r-f
styles, though one of the richest ; a style full of originality, picturesqueness, sonnj Ti^onr : but all
eased and slated over, threefohl, in metaphor and trope ; dtstraeted into tortooeiiiea, dUeoalkiii :
starting out into crotchets, cramp turns, (luaintnesaes, and hiddeu satire." — Cmrfyie"^ " Oa
iiii'abeau."
The chief rules for Harmony are those which follow, riz. : —
1st. In the choice of words avoid, unle^ where absolutely necesmj for apreMioo, the
use of harsh, grating, and unmelodious words; e. g. — (a) Those which ooDtain a oonenntnos
Jif the same rowel, as, re-estimated, co-ordinal, &c. (6) Those which cooteia two or
RIIETORia — ^HO. Xlt. 44t
roagb-aoDDdJag oonsoBinta ; e. g,^ cfaromclera, grudged, perturbed, attacked, &c. (c) Thoec
▼hieh havB fireqaentlj reoancDt letters or nearly similar syllables, as, pre -reactionary,
sillily, extemalily, ^rrieiy, &c. (d) Lengthy compoands, irben more fluent and equally
expreaaiTe synenymea can be fmnd, as, shamefacedness, tenderheartedness, distressfolness,
&c (e) Soeh lengthy words as have their accented syllable placed so near the beginning
as to cause a difficulty in prononnciog them, as, receptacle, arbitrarily, eztm-mun-
daneity, &c.
2nd. In the arrangement of words, those collocations should, in general, be preferred by
which the greatest euphony is producible; hence the fallowing ought to be carefully
guarded against, tiz.:— (a) Successive words beginning with aspirated A, as, his historical
gemns. {h) Words ending with one sound succeeded by words beginning with that sound,
as, sterile illiteracy — accuracy, assiduity, and care, &c. (c) Words ending in rowel sounds
snceeeded by words whose initial syllable has a vowel sound, as. Though all do owe you
honour; Go! no evil will accrue to you, &c. (d) Words having a consonant ending similar
to the initial consonant sound of the succeeding word, as. Who dares tax Xerxes with
injustice? Strike, Iconoclast ! Bring gingham! &c. (e) Words whose first syllables haT«
the same sound, or the final sound of which is similar to the finst syllable of the following
words, as, I can candidly canvas Canterbury ; You likewise wisely chose, &c. (/) Words of
umilar terminational sounds, as, I confess with hnmility my sterility of fancy and debility
of judgment. ' (y) A succession of monosyllables, as, Do not go on on this road far,
fiitber, &c.
Srd. In distributing the clauses of a sentence, we should so arrange them that the
whole Quy be easily and readily pronounced, and thus convey an agreeable impr»sion to
the ear: — (a) Clauses should neither be too long, nor disproportionately assorted. (6) The
various clauses should be arranged in the order of their length and importance, %. e., form
a climax ~ this, of course, supposes that the length of the clauses is to increase with the
importance of the thought, (c) Monosyllables ought as seldom as possible to end a clause,
snd terminational monosyllables ought never to be emphatic.
4th. In composing a paragraph, long, short, and intennediate sentences ought to be
jadidously intermingled. Short sentences are conversational, and long ones are oratorical.
C<»nposition, to be good, ought to combine as much conversational ease and idlomatlcality
u is consistent with the calm dignity and elevation which are expected of the writer.
5th. Be natural and unaffected. It is true that, " with many readers, brilliancy of
stjie passes for affluence of thought ; they mistake buttercnps in the grass for im*
measarable gold mines under ground;** but '* the natural alone Is permanent." " In Style,
AS m all tilings else, simplicity is the supreme excellence." * " Unnatural utterance
hltHlers usefulness. From aiming at peculiarity, or from too artificial a training, language
Incomes disjointed in a great variety of ways. Some men, in pursuing thoughts, forget
harmony ; while others seem to set their ideas so completely to music, that their hearers or
readers lose sight of the subject in listening to the sweetness of the melody. Occasionally
^e find a man who speaks or writes as if his soul stuttered, so as to form a hundred
• We quote the above extracts from memory; we believe iliej- are from I.ongfillow*8 " Kavanagb,"
chap. xiii.
448 BHETOBia — xo. xu.
periods in a page. The jet from tlie foantain comes in fits, so maoj times a minnte^
The conjunctions are all disjonctive. It is a strange piece of mosic It has startling
TBriations. It is staccatoed throa^hoat. There is a rest at every har. It is emphatic;
bat it is apt neither to be understood nor remembered. Others take no breath, and mak
on like a cataract, impetnoas, nnprodactiTe, dangeroos, destmctiTe, wasting their rongh
energy in n<nsj Tiolence; and, bounding headlong to an unknovn end, they confound th*
waters of life into foam, and lose tbemselves in whirlpools. Sober reason instinctively
adopts the medium, and measures her eloquence by the nature of the subject and the state
of feeling proper to the occasion. The cause of so much ineffective utterance is found ia
the fact, that the thoughts and the feelings do not flow together. They are sought apart^
and kept apart in spirit and in power, although seemingly wedded together by sound —
vox et praterta nihU — (it is a voice, and nothing else). A natural ear can always
detect an unnatural eloquence, and none but the habituated lovers of listening can feel the
truth inviting them except from lips ' touched with a live coal from off the altar.'
" Truth and right feeling have an order of their own ; but an affected mannerism is the
disguise of a false and rigid animation. * * * Xhe living fires bum with a lambent
harmony and freedom, and, like the luminous waves that clothe the sun, need no cincture
to bind them to their places. The laws of light are those of beauty, and clear thoughts
require but llttie art for their proper exhibition."* They become harmonious, clear,
strong, concise, and vivacious in expression, in exact proportion as the mind of the speaker
or writer really feels, and utters what he feels just as he feels it. A play of shadows in
the realms of fancy, however lovely, will never move like the actualities of earnest thought
vigorously expressed; for,
" As the son trannnutes the sullen hues
Of marsh-grown vapoun into vermeil dyca.
And melts them later into tHilight dews.
Shedding on flowers the baptism of the skies,'*
io does the heaven-given energy of earnest thought adorn our ideas with beauty and enable
us to utter them in music.
Another year will soon have joined " the past eternity,** and during that period we have
been companioning together. Have we rightly considered our relative responsibilities
while 80 connected? and have we been earnestly striving to fulfil the poet*s imagination :>—
** Stay, stay the passing moment, and impress
The mark of wisdom on its shining wing ? "
Have we remembered that
" Whatever man possesses God has lent,
And to hi$ audit liable is ev«r.
To reckon how and where and when 'twaa spent ?"
If so, it will be well; if not, now is the fit time for "changing the fashion of our spirits.**
In the hope of meeting again, we say. Farewell, reader, till Time s now babe be bonu
• Moore's *' Man and his Motives," p. 182.
TV-KRE THE EFFECTS OF THE CBTTSASES FAVOURABLE TO CIYILUSATIOX ? 449
iBifitnri[.
WERE THE EFFECTS OF THE CRUSADES FAVOURABLE TO THE
CIVaiZATiON AND MORAL ELEVATION OF THE PEOPLE ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
There are considerations affecting:, in a
degree the most stupendous, the moral and
social well-being of societj, which are never-
theless, to ordinary minds, a complete blank.
If, indeed, to sach minds thej become mat-
ters of cogitation, thej are looked upon as
mere sentimental moonshine — an unaccount-
able aoomalj in hnman iiatare, fit thoughts
of persons in love or elderly bluestockings.
For example, what is more common than to
hear people laughing at what they term
'^ snpentitions fears,*' without considering
that they are dealing with the most recondite
questions in human nature. There is an
awful gloom which encompasses, to all
rightly-constituted and powerful minds, all
mysteries of death and the grave; it lives
within there, and forms no inconsiderable
portion of the moral forces of their nature.
And nothing, in our opinion, is more pre-
posterous than the attempt to substitute
drj, scientific knowledge for this education
of the imagination and mind — to drive all
these sacred terrors from the mind — and,
instead, to furnish us with the history of the
steam-engine, or experiments in chemistry
or natural philosophy.
It may, indeed, be urged that the un-
reality of these things has been demonstrated.
This we beg leave to doubt. There are
nuiny things which do not admit of scientific
demonstration, yet which, nevertheless, exist
as motive and active power in this world.
Nay, i t might, no doubt, be demonstrated, with
apparent logical correctness, that the sun
does not shine; but would this avail? The
glory of its beams would still continue to
fall on tree and tower — the lake would still
glitter, mirror-like, in the summer evening
sunset, and coups de tofeit would not be the
less frequent. And how little avails the
sceptical objectioin of material science against
these freezing horrors — accompaniments of
Kox and Erebus — reminiscences of lonely
walks by midnight on haunted moors, when
the moonbeams burst from betwixt broken
clouds! All these live not in the humun
mind without a purpose. Emerson, I think,
speaks of the death of children as stimulat-
ing and awakening the higher nature of the
parent — as linking him more closely with
the invisible and infinite. And this is also
the office of those supernatural terrors of
which I have spoken. They, notwithstand-
ing their being ignored by a few individuals
destitute of an inner nature — by sceptics,
defective in their emotional nature — fulfil a
most important function, not only in the
education of individuals and communities,
but of the whole human race. That func-
tion is, to awaken the inner consciousness of
man ; in other words, they teach him how to
THINK. They are the means which enable
man to arrive at the highest privilege of his
nature — the power of self-knowledge.
It might also be shown that this is the
nursery of the sciences; in short, of all that
has sprung fcom the reflective nature of man ;
but this I shall content myself with afiirm-
ing.
fiat the scepticism of which I complain is
not confined merely to that to which I have
jnst alluded; it is extended to well nigh all
the moral phenomena of man*s nature, from
religion downwards. But among the great
moral forces, of which the existence has
been doubted in more than a common degree,
is that class from which has sprung great
convubiions in the history of mankind ; e. g.y
the French Revolution of 1792 ; or, greater
still, the Crusades. It is true, there is some
ground for this among philosophic observers
of history, these outbursts of mental force
having interfered in a very sad and reckless
manner with speculations and conclusions of
the most promising character. Indeed, for
a genuine old Tory to believe other than
that this said French Revolution was incited
by the Radicals would be considered tanta*
mount to apostacy from his political faith.
450
WSRE Tins KFTBCIS OF TnB CRUSADKS FAVOUOABLK TO THC
Of these great mental impalses — heroic
moments, as Emerson wonld call them — ^in
the history of our globe, perhaps the grefitest
is the Crusades. It was a period of deep
feeling, when the human race seemed to
awaken to a sense of responsibility — when
death and danger were disregarded, so that
man could but perform the mission that was
before him. Not but on sucji occasions he
ran into great fullies ; nay, doubtless, in such
moments of abandoomeni these were pre-
dominani; the motire and the mental condition
alone were nobler. This mighty movement, so
greatly remarkable for the absence of selfish-
ness in its leaders, was perhaps, at the time
it occarred, the most adraBUgeoiis possible
for Europe. The nations were then young —
newly organized; they required pressure from
without to consolidate and establish their
power upon a firm basis, and this they found
in the Crnsades. What other movement
than this — ^which united the strongest faith
in the cross with the greatest courage and
self-esertion in the individual — could have
filled the heart of Europe with poetry — could
have developed that nirfde institution, chi-
valry? And, doubtless, it was the holy and
religious impulses which led the way to this
war, that softened the hearts of the rude
warriors to the gentle influences of women.
Here was a holiness — ft devotedness — ^which,
however foolish they may appear to us in
the nineteenth century, were, nevertheless, of
the very highest importance to the age of
the Crusades — to the rude, unlettered barons,
and men at arms. Courage and faith, are
they not the twin pioneers of civilization —
coursge, the strong, self-heSping arm upon
earth; faith, the sanctifier, the spirit that
ooroes from heaven? The one without the
other is grasping selfishneiiS or helpless
inanity. The objection which » constantly
urged against the Crusades by observers in the
nineteenth century — that they were withoat
practical results — ^is wretchedly unphiloso-
pliical. No age properly admits cf com«
parison with any but itself. It is enoa^
that the motives appeared sufficient for oar
forefatliers. It is the purest aminos to
believe that, had we lived then, we should
have been wiser. The positive direct benefits
of these precipitati<Mis of Europe upon Ama
are to be found in the strong faith which was
evoked, the consequent deepening of the
human consciousness, and thus a general
awakenment of the moral nature. That
these benefits have not been more dearly
seen: indeed, that the present subject is
matter of debate at all, arises from Che im-
perfect knowledge which we have of mend
forces, and the difficulty of arriving at a
correct estimate of them. HAiM>u>.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
" The principle of the Cni^arfes was a sarage
f^atacism, and the most important effects were
analo^as to the cause. The belief of the Catho-
lics was oormpted by new legends, their praetioe
by new stiperstitions ; and the establishment of
the inquisition, the mendioant order of monks
and friars, the last abuse of indulgences, and the
final progress of xdoltktrftjlowed from the balrjul
fountain of the koly war." — Gibbon, ** DtcHne
and Fall;' chap. Ixi.
While the Crusades have been a theme
of exultation or regret to many, according to
their feelings or prejudices, they have ever
been the subject of astonishment to all.
That so many human beings should, by the
tale and tears of a solitary and despicable
monk, be aroused from the sluggish habits
of their social life, and fired with a spirit of I
daring enthusiasm — ^that die whole priest-
hood should have unanimoudy espoused his
cause —that monarehsand merehants, princes
and peasants, chielUms and slaves, fie£i and
their vassahi, and even maids, and mothera
with their children, should liave at once
tered into a scheme for leaving thttr Datbcr-
land and their possessions, and marchmg to
an unknown country, cannot fail to arrest
the attention of the student of histovy.
That this enthusiasm should for such a
length of years have continued to animate the
minds and infloence the conduct of the whole
of the European nations, is indeed a matter
of astenishmeut. That men who had hitherto
led lives of the most widely different descrip-
tion—the unlettered boor, who had lived
quietly in his humble cot ; the robber, whose
abode was the fastnesses of the moontainB;
and the haughty aristocrat, who bad enjoyed
the luxuiy of property and the aervioes of
vassals — that all should have suddenly given
up their peculiarities, and have joined
together, actuated by the same motive,
and impelled by a like frenzy, to set out on
a perilous expedition to free the Holy Ci^
cmuzATToy a!ci> moual elkvatiox of thk feoplf. ?
451
^ tiic Tork, JA certainly a suhject wliicli
■ajvfil ngross the attention ni' inankiiul,
nd from which thej may be wiiliiij; to learn.
Tint thii coalU not all be oflectctl witliout
Joeing deep and powerful or^nnir eficcts,
wn where stjctetj was nide and unfornK-d,
M one will presume to deny. That the2>e
(Acts were nnfavoarable to the civilization
»1 nwnU elevation of the p(K)|>le, we itlinll
■» attempt to prore by the fullowing coii-
■4ffitioiu«: —
first. The causes and the motiTes whicli
M to the Crusades. We have been at some. ;
|>iBi to inquire into the history of thoHe
*ns, and we fcarles-^Iy fay that we cnn dis- |
■*er in their oripn and proe«H?ution the ,
WJence of no worthy or ennoblinj^ motive. '
lify were the product of rude ignorance, ■
rf tmeheruus cunning, of martial rapacity,
■d of frenzied fanaticism. The end seems
to have been held to justify the means.
n»e was the first and grand appeal to the :
ft'le to enter the lists against the encmien ;
•f tlie Saviour, to succonr and avenge their
■jwed |Mlr>rim brothers, and to rwleem the
w City from the possession of the Mus-
■■liBin. In this they were deceivwl by
"canniDgly-deritted fables*' respecting "lands
^Dg with milk and honry — of mines, and
t'Unires of gold and diamonds — of palaces
if Duuiih; aniJ jasper." These were to be the
^'•wdgof the pilgrim: and the wealth of
^ intidels was regarded as the fair and ;
■ptimate object of plunder; and even the |
"«wr of the wines and the beauty of the
••■tti were held forth as incentives to the |
••cb. Promises of pardon for the deadliest
^HKS, and the sure posses-sicm of ctomal
*PIiii»»s, was to be the rcwanl of a piU j
™fcpe 10 the East, with the de>'truction of
■* ioddel, and the recovery of the tomb of
J> Saviour. How sadly was everything
'vfin the faith and practice of tnic religion ]
'^'verted, and what sickening horron* were '
^pffrated in the name of the iVince of
fiicondly. The character and conduct of
7i Crna»den forbid them being regarded as
Ni to civilization or mural elevation. "At
'•e voice of their pastor the robber, the in-
^iary, the homicide, arose by thousands
* redeem their Muls by repeating on the
■Idelii the oame deeds which they had
(eidiusd againat their christian brethren,"
id the ** temu of atonement were eagerly |
embraced by ofl'cnders of every rank and
dcnominution." None were refused admis-
sion to the Pttintly army. The prince was
honoured, the peasant tlattered, the young
I and stttlw.irt, wiialever tlK-ir character or
. crimeii, were welctimod to the rankt*, and
evpu women and children were allowed to
swell their nunibeni. To prisoners a ge-
neral amnesty was gr.intcd, and to debtors
a freedom from tiie diligeiuM; of creditors,
lieforc all earthly ties and con.Hiderutioiui
was the cull of the church and the Imttles of
the cross. It wjis enough that they were
tiilcd with hatred to the followers of the
fnlhe prophet, and longed to wreak vengeance
on ail who resisted the I'opc, and were wil-
ling to hasten to the redeniptiun of the holy
sepulchre.
Such were the elements of the army that
marched to Pahstine. Men ignorant, ava-
ricious, nnd bkNidthirsty; not themAclves the
sulijecrs of civilization or enlightenment, and
rert airily very unlikely to teach these to
others. Their conduct wax such as might
have been expected from such an anny placed
in such circumittances. Wherever their
march was opposed, or their hopes of plunder
exciterl, their revenge was fearful, and their
rapacity boundless. Oppression and cruelty
were their concomitant.^, and a butchered
peop'e anti a devastated country were in tho
track of their progress. \'or were they able
to restrain the workings of strife and cruelty
amongst themselves. The strong trampled
on the w«>uk, the marrio*! state was violated,
and sui'h Fcenes of rioting and dehanchcxy
were witnessed in their niid.*>t, that Giblx)n
says, ** Seldom does the histor}' of profane
war disjjlay such scenes of intemperance und
prostitution as were exhibited under the walls
of Antioch.**
Tims did the conduct and character of the
Cnisaders exriude the possibility of their
doing nny gor)d to the n.itions they visited.
" Heedless and uaretlecting, they consnmeil
with j»r»Kligjility the stores of provisions and
tho. water which they had. Like the plague
of the locusts, they .ite up and dchtroyed
every article of food in the inland country
which they traversed, Tho pit^ple among
whom they m!ir(*hed either hated them and
their designs with a deadly hatred, or were
fain to tlee before their cruel or rapacious
brethren, and they were reiluced to awful
straits from thirst and famine. In the ex-
452
WEBB THB EFFEOIB OF THE CBUSilDISS FATOUBABLB TO TIIK
tremlt J of their sufferings they were some-
times compelled to roast and devour the flesh
of their infant and adult captiyes, and ac-
quired the character 6f cannibals, which was
carried abroad and confirmed by spies, who
discovered several human bodies preparing
for food in their camps." This report the
Normans were zealous to spread, in order to
heighten the abhorrence and terror of the
infidels. Thus debasing was the influence
of the Crusades on all with whom thej came
in contact. Tell us not, then, in bitter
mockery, that the ** Crusades unfolded a
Christian Europe," or were likely to carry
the blessings of tnHghtenment^ or respect for
the social relations, to those with whom they
came in contact.
Thirdly. The results of the Crusades show
that they were not favourable to civilization
and moral elevation. If we trace the course
of the Crusaders, we find that it was one
series of error, misfortune, and crime, ending
in their own dispersion or destruction. The
doom of the first expedition was a mournful
one. "The populace who departed under
the conduct of Peter the Hermit, without
preparation and without guides or chiefs,
and who were followed, rather than led, by
some obscure knights, after traversing Ger-
many and the Greek empire, dispersed or
perished in Asia Minor."* " Thus perished
(says another writer) 300,000 persons of the
first Crusaders, ere their more thoughtful
brethren had completed their preparations.
Yet, so inefficient was the lesson, that vast
numbers still flocked under the same standard
to encounter the same fate." The savage
countries of Hungary and Bulgaria were
whitened with their bones, their anny was
cut in pieces by the Turkish sultan or the
Grecian emperor, and myriads perished by
the climate, fatigue, and the dangers of the
way, the more insuperable as they were
unforeseen to these ignorant fanatics. And
of the few who returned, they had learned
no laws of love, they had been sdiooled by
no kindness, and they settled down in their
former state, to their former pursuits, still
more gloomy and unlovely than before.
They neither accomplished the object for
which they were ostentatiously undertaken,
nor produced any enlightening or ennobling
effecU on the nations. Let us bear the tes-
• Gvdao:, «« Hbtorj of CiviUaatioo;* teot vtii.
timony of history farther on the matter.
Gibbon says: — "^ As soon as the arms of the
Franks were withdrawn, the impressiony
though not the memory, was erased in the
Mahometan realms of Egypt and Syria.
The faithful disciples of the prophet were
never tempted by a profane desire to study
the laws or language of the idolaters, nor
did the simplicity of their primitive manners
receive the sllgHesi alteration from their
intercourse, in peace or war, with the un-
known strangers of the West; and, if the
Greeks showmi a less inflexible disposition, it
was oniy the warlike prf^jpensiiks of their
antagonists they emulated." Again : — '* The
ardour of studious curiosity was awakened
in Europe by different causes and more re-
cent events ; in the age of the Crusades they
viewed with careless indiflferenco the lite*
rvtnre and learning of the Greeks and
Arabians."* To set forth their effects in
England we may use the language of a
writer in the "Edinburgh Review,'* who,
speaking of the romances which were em-
ployed to celebrate the feats of King Richard
and the Crusaders, says, " This romance (of
cannibalism, which is revoltingly reiterated)
is also valuable as a curious example of the
CHANGE ybr the worse which the religious
wars introduced into the European cha-
racter. The Crusader discarded from his
bosom all that was amiable and mild in the
spirit of chivalry. The other expl<nto of
King Richard in the Holy Land were in a
similar taste with this cannibal entertain-
ment; and we are of opinion that, when such
feats were imputed by way of praise and
merit to the hero of the Crusaders, and
received, as doubtless they were, with no
small applause by the audience, the fact ^ill
go a great way to ascertain vfheihtr the
European ckaraeter was improved or de-
based bff these Eastern eaped^ibns." t Add
to these the proofs and authorities founded
on, in the negative articles of G. N., J. M. S.,
and J. G. R., and we have abundant evidence
to show that " the Crusades retarded the
march of cwilisxUion, thickened the chads
of ignorance and superstitionyand encouraged
intoleraneej cruelty, and fierceness^
The principal method by which our oppo-
nents attempt to prove their position is by
• " Decline and FaJI," chap. Ixi.
+ " Eillnburph Review," toI. iii.j article on
English Romaneca.
CinUZATIOir AXD MOK.VL ELKVATIOST OF TIIE PEOPI.K ?
453
iscrting that, notwithstanding the nianifost
ilamities of the Cnuades, national unity
m establislied, and an important reaction
Hk place, and inanr indirect a<lvuntaj[;e:i
£cnied tavooruble to the civil izatitm and
Mnl tfleration of the people. C. W., Jun., —
vith a research which on this and manv
Mhn* subj(fCt4 does Iiim great credit, and
Btides him to the thanks of the readers of
tlui magazine — educes several authorities, '
JH complvtely fails to prove that the de-
^K eS'ects of the Cnisades wer<^ balanced
i^the good that resulted from them. In
the»!«ction of the authority of Gibbon, as
•Mvho "is likely to Iiave given the sul»ject
BitBre considention," we consider him sin-
pMj anfiirtunate. We have gone deeper ■
ioto the " Decline and Full" than he in his
Qtncts, and hare shown what was really
tbe opinion and testimony of Gibbon, and we
*in jct ri«k anoth«>!r quotation from him, to
■Imit bis real sentiments, as opposc<l to the '
Mo conveyed by C. W., Jun., in his hafj'
mtence: — "Great was the increase, and
'*Jiid the pm;;ress, duriug the Uro humlrcd
Tnn of the Crui<ades, and some phiUwo-
ibm bare applauded the propitious influence '
if these holy wars, which appear to me to
bre chfcked rather than forwarded the
9fit»rltif of IJuftjfe, The lives and hibours '>
tf millions who were buried in the East
^■nld have been more profitably employed
■ theimproTcment of their native country; '
tkaccnmuluted stock of industry and wealth ;
would have overflowed in navigation ami
traile, and tho Latins would have been en-
riched by a pure and friendly correspondence
with the climates of the Kast." The quota*
tion from Ilume proves nothing but what all
admit — the unsatisfactory state of society in
the eleventh ceutur}-. Alucaulay's testimony
is very meagre, and is as much a defence of
monkish lore in general as of the Crusades
in particular. He certainly does not show
us that those who returned reared such
buildings as they said they saw, or in any
way improved our science or our art. The
boasted tf/uafity of the Crusades is by no
means sitstained. Even on Guizot*s own
showing, monarch's still claimed their sove-
reignty, princes and chieftains still ret;uncd
command, the wealthy took money to provide
luxuries, and their hawks to beguile the
tedioiisncss of the way by hunting; the
strong tyrannized over the weak, and the
distresses of the journey were most heavily
felt by tho poor. Thus was there no good
resulting, even in this boasted matter, from
tho temporary release of the bondsmen, for
" they who returned from the holy wars re-
sumed their old occupations, consequently
HurojK flaifiid nothing by the matter" But
wo must now leavo the question. It has
been well discussed in tliu ablo articles of
G. Nm J. M. S., and J. G. R., and we think
enough has been advanced to ])rovc tho
correctness of our negative position.
A. T.
AFFIRMATIVE REPLY.
*Itvoiild be a niHUke to suppose that,lienaiiM
^CruMuie* Culed in tlieir iinmetiiate tihjcct, or
^*oua% they were coml acted at an imineiiHe
*>pea«« or human luliour and human lire, th^rr-
*»« lA*3f w^r** writhof/t b^nfjt'ial inftuenrr on
^titrntoririj.'—Chambert' Ti-acts.^
If the amoant of energy thrown, cither
^ the atlTOcacy of a cause, or the opp«>-
11^ to it, could be shown to fomi a
^lilerion of its real merits and truthfulness,
^ we mnst most assuredly be content to
^ the fla;; of Tictory wave high over the
Ws t^ oar opponents in this present qucs-
W Luckily, however, the fact is not so.
'Wre are two oceasions, at least, in which
Unsaal manifestations of zeal may be ex-
feted: the one, when the cause of truth,
id truth (vnly, ia at stake, and when the
rocaie, iospired by the importance of his
position, becomes elevated beyond Iiimself,
and pours foilh with irresistible eloi]uenco
the lofty promptin;;s of his truthful heart;
the other iiccosion is, where the advocate
finds he has the wrong side of the case —
where the /acts arc against him, although
some plausible reasoning be still left at his
command. It is then that zeal assumes tho
I form of desperation. Facts have to l)e con-
cealed or misapplied— inferences distorted
and disguised, and somid reasoning aban-
doned lor sophistry and artifice. Under
: these circumstances usually recognised truths
and principles are overlooked; and^ us we
I have said, a species of desperation is mani-
fested. We hope we may not be deemed
uncharitable if we place the zeal of our
, opponents in the present instance under the
454
WKRB THB KFPKC7TS OV THB CaUaADES FAVOURABLK TO THE
Utter hMd: w« Uiink we can " show cftuse*'
for doing so.
Those who bare penued the first papers
which appeared oo this qaeetion wili, meet
likely, have noticed that, when we opened
the affirmatiTe side of the debate, we were
caotiovs to back tUl oar aasertions with his-
torical anthoritj. In au historical debate,
we hold that no other coarse can be properly
parsaed. It is quite possible to fill a Tolume
with arguments to prove that certain caoaee
amid never lead to certain results; but, sach
is the force and purpose of history, that one
line firom any of its usoally admitted aa>
thentic sonrces showing that the result
sought to be disproved did happen, will at
once consign to the shades all the aigaments
ever penned to the contrary! If, indeed,
such were not the case, controversies could
never be settled, and the end and aim of
history would be for ever destroyed.
But the point to which we de:iire to direct
more especial attention is this: — Nearly all
the negative writers have made it a chief
point to quibble with our authorities. By
one they are characterized as " an arrsy of
names and opinions;" another says "they
are mere assertions;" and a third scatters
them to the right or left, as it may best suit
his purpose! Well, after such an utter
disdain for authorities in this matter, we
were anticipating with anxiety the expe-
dients which should supply their pUioe. It
occurred to us that, perhaps, some special
process might have been discovered by which
facts even of very long standing could be
brought clearly to light without the in-
termeddling, vexatious interference of his-
torians, or the absurd conclusions of phi-
losophers! But, when we first cast our eyes
down the negative colamns« and saw what
we believed to be sundry ** inverted oemmas"
and " foot-notes," we began strongly to sus-
pect the accuracy of our vision! How could
those who despise authorities so far forget
themselves as to seek their aid, and app*>
rently rejoice in the fact of so doing? We
looked again, and suspicion flashed across
our mindl It was a matter of convenience
to abuse our old and familiar authorities, for
that afibrded a pretext for introducing a
number of minor and mwe secluded ones, to
whom a glimpse of daylight was a much
greater treat! Well, then, on the ground of
humaniiy we will foi|^ the circumstance,
merely observing that it would be gratifying
to know the claims on which the seoond-«lass
authorities adduced against us are entitled
to more ready credit than our own! It aay
be on the known principle that Hrtmgtr$ are
generally best received I
We have been endeavouring to discoTer
the real bearing of oar opponenta' arguments,
and to learn wherein we really diffir. While
admitting and lamenting the many baneful
influences which were rife during the period
of the Crusades, we have (with the other
affirmative writers) endeavoured to penetrate
beyond the immediate soene of action, and
trace the changes and effects which followed,
in order to see how far the latter were either
dependent upon, or associated with, the former.
This is a test which the philosophy of Itia-
tory plainly teaches us to apply, and without
it we should despair of ever arriving at an
enlightened and accurate oonclnsion. The
negative writers have thoi^ht proper to con-
fine themselves to a narrower, and, in our
estimation, less philosophic basis. They put
before us, in vivid colours, scenes of bkrad*
shed and cruelty which are said to have
characterised the Crusades; and, with an air
of injured virtue, they then ask, ** Can good
come out of evil?" "Can you expect that
such atrocities would do more than call down
just retribution upon the heads of the
o^nders?" We answer that history, both
sacred and secular, affords abundant evidence
that the means employed frequently have
no influence, either for good or evil, upon
the result sought to be brought about. The
former are not unfrequently the result of
accident. The fruit being ripe, the first blast
of wind brings it to the ground, irrespective
of the quarter of the compass from which it
may blow. So, prior to the commencement
of the Crusades, desnestio oppression and
feudal tynnny were at their height; and, by
turning attention to, and dhreetiog the
energies of the feudal barons to another
quarter, the Crusades did prove favoucable
to tho progress of civilization; and the very
fitrcemess which our opponents deprecate so
strongly tended to mahe the result certain,
by exterminating those whose existence could
only retard the march of human progress 1
The gnat error of our opponents appears
to us to lie in their looking away from the
question, instead of at it. We are asked,
" Were ti.e eilects of the Crusades favourable
CIVILIZATION A2CI> UORAL ELEVATION OF THE PEOPLU ?
455
) dviliution?*' not **\Vere the operations
: tbe Cnuadeni in Bcci>fdance with the
nenllr recognised priiidples of hamun ;
ction?^ We dl admit that the state of \
wtij WAS bad before the coinmenccnicnt of
he Crusades. '' Well, the Crusades uccarred ;
ud, an if bj mafric, the bondsman's chains
^»pR to break and fall asunder. The f(>Uii«il
syfctem relaxed — the sovereipi power was
ttcrced aud reduced — 3Iagnu Charta was
grained hy the people — pi-r^onal bondage i^ra-
duallj declined — mental and moral slavery
were exposed br WicklifTe, and the other sue-
ce:ssors of the holy men who calleil Enrnpo
iuto anns, and from that time civilization
took firm footing in Europe!"
How say you, reader? Were tho effects
of the Cruifiides favourable to this improved
civilizntiou ur not? We still nutintatn the
atfirnutive. C. W., Jun.
NEGATIVE Iii:i»Ly.
ApTF.B what has been said ^o ably on
l)cth tides of this qaestion, we think, with a
pnccding writer, that *' Enough has already
kw tdfanc^d to prove the correctnefts of
wrn^ative pf«ition." We shall, ihereiorc,
fiBtnit ourselves by pvinp a very short
Wicle in reply to our opponents.
TLe fintt writer on the afHrmativc side of
tlw question is C. W., Jan. This writer
^quoted hirgely from Gibbon, Mucauluy,-
Gliist, and others, in sufiport of his vicwH.
AiKBg tlic most prominent of the pas>ages
*Uch he- has given, and placed in italicN, is
tkt Mlnwinsr: — ** Great was the increase,
ttd rapid the pro^rvss, during the two hun-
^ years of the Crusades."' Do we inquire
■ vhat was there pnijrress? He informs
^ that ** Among the causes that uuder-
^*d that Gothic edifice (feuilalinm) a con-
*ftMw place must be given to the C'ru-
■^'' for *• the estates of the barons were
j^*ipated, and their race often annihilated,
J* these cofstly and perilous expeditions."
'V sum anil substance of this pasi<a;;e is,
^ they favoured hberty; for if it should
'* prored, after all, that, on the wliolo,
'^a wars did not benefit the people in this
''"^tct, it was of little avail that they
""lencd the yoke of the feudal lord. A
^mge of mastefB is not ntctssarlfjf an ad-
^lU^; it may be an evil.
Kow we think that, from the nature of
>• cue before us, no real advanta;;e cuuld
^ublj accrue. Here was the whole of
^rope engaged in a war; hut it was a
^poui war; — a war, by engaging in which
% eombiatsnts expected to attain cverbbt-
\ Hfo. Sins of the very worst description
>c to be pardoned — nay, cancelled— by
tae of neriu, and licence given to commit
wt aiiu'i if the pecwm engaged in this war.
t who was It that had the power to pardon
sin ? The priest. By whose authority was
the priest able to do that? By the autlir.rity
of the PoiH*. Then the tendenry of tlie Cru-
jtadcs w:is not to lihcratc tl>e peopl*\ Xo!
It was to turn their alle;L''ance over from the
feudal lord to the Tope. This was the object
which the Crusades were calculate<i to ac-
complish, and did acconip]i.<>h. Aud which
is the most to be feared, a spiritual or a
tf-mporat dispotism ? — a dcsjiotism which
can only sustain it.^elf by a fear of temporal
punishment, or a despotism which can sus-
tain itself by a fear of spiritual and eternal
punisliHient? And yet it was to such a
desj)otiMn that the masses of the peuplc were
more fully committ(.*d by the (.'ru.««?.i.les.
But, iiccording to this writer, the liberty
of the subject was not the* only ad vantage
which resulted from the Cnitados ; ft^r,
q not in;: from <iuizot, he tells us thai 'V^e
Vntmdrs unfolded a chi /."//«« Europe.^* If
this were really the cate, it f«^lIows that the
Cru>ades were favourable to the development
of Christianity, otherwi.se the Cnl^ade.■^ could
not have " ww/I^/i/crf ff ciikistiax Ettrnpf.^
A ix'rusal of the papor ot' J. M. S. will
convince the reader, if he is in^t already con-
vinced, that a priru.ipal cau.se of the Cnwades
— a rulinj^ principle in the miiiils of the
Cnisa<ler» — was, grtj>8 sujienstitinn. They
cxiiected to merit the forffiveness of .sins,
and a consequent entrance into eternal hap-
piue>b, by engaging in these wars. Accf>rd-
ing to C. W., Jun., then, gross superstition,
so far from being opposed to the religion of
Jesus, may be a very ruling principle in its
development. Xay, is it not fair to suppose
that, since the Crusades were notoriously the
unfolding of a supt^rstitiotts Kuropt'^as
nothing but an age pre-eminently superstitious
could ever have produced them — that, anronl-
ing to C. W., Jun., Christianity was the
456 WERK THR KFFBCTS OF THE CKUBADES FAVOURABLE TO CIYILIZATIOS ?
snpentition which the Cnuades unfolded?
in other words, that Christianity is itself a
superstition, and, consequently, unworthy of
the regard of intelligent men?
Bat the Crusades were pre-eminently cruel
ware. According to the principlea which
induced and maintained them, it was a very
saintly act to kill an infidel, no matter how
it was done. The most solemn engagements
might be made and falsified, the most solemn
oath broken through, so that the infidel were
killed. The article of J. G. R., we think,
abundantly proves this. If so, and the
favoured passage of C. W., Jun., be correct,
Christianity is not only a superstition, but a
cruely a very cruel^ auperttUion.
Kow, we maintain that Christianity is not
a tuperstltum^ but a religion which invites
examination. It has been tested in all times,
and by all lights. Season has tested it, and
it has been proved entirely reasonable ; phi-
losophy has tested it, and it has been proved
to be highly philosophical; but, more than
all, experience — the experience of the world
— has tested it, and it has been proved
capable of standing experiment. It is not a
superstition, but a great fact.
If, however, Christianity is not a super-
BtUkUf much less is it a cruel superstition.
So far from according eternal life as a reward
to those who destroy its opponents, its lan-
guage univereally is the language of love.
It suffereth long, and is kind. Its injunc-
tions are — Love your enemies. Bless them
that curse you. tr&j/or them that despite-
fully use yon and persecute you. Whatsoever
ye would that men should do to you, do ye
even so to them. But the Crusades were
based upon an entirely different principle,
and carried out in an entirely different spirit,
and therefore it is a libel on Christianity to
fiay that *' the Crusades unfolded a christian
£urope."
F. J. L. concludes that the Crusades were,
on the whole, favourable to religious liberty,
on the ground that the particular enormity
which first struck the mind of Luther with
horror originated with them. According to
this kind of logic, almost every great evil
may be regarded as a great good. The
tyranny of the Stuarts, whidi induced Charles
the First to levy taxes without the consent
of parliament, was a great good, inasmuch
as it led to the establishment of the govern-
ment on a more equitable footing ; Charles,
therefore, was truly a martyr, for he was one
of the greatest benefactors of England. The
American stamp act was a boon to America,
for it led to the revolt, and ultimate inde-
pendence and prosperity, of that great coun-
^try. The abuses of West Indian slavery
were very beneficial, for they led to the
liberation of the slaves of that part of the
British empire. The horrors of the middle
passage were advantageous, for they have
Jed to the partial suppression of the slave
trade. What a number of benefactors is oar
race indebted to according to this style of
reasoning ! How few of these persons
have been rewarded as they ought to have
been I
But is it true that we have to thank
tyranny for the blessing of good government,
which has been founded upon a revolt from
it? or error for the blessings of truth, which
has been elicited by its exposure? We think
not. Whatever advantages we may, or
Europe may, have derived from the Refor-
mation, it was still an evil that a reformation
should have been necessaiy.
Taking these views of the matter, we still
maintain that the effects of the Crusades (a
great evil) were, and could be, nothing but
evil, although the effects of the truth which
has been brought to bear upon their enor-
mities have been very great good. G. ^.
The common fluency of speech in many men and women is owing to a scarcity of
matter and a scarcity of words; for whoever is a master of language, and has a mind fall
of ideas, will be apt, in speaking, to hesitate upon the choice of both; whereas common
speakers have only one set of ideas, and one set of words to clothe them in ; and these are
always ready at the mouth : so people come faster out of church when it is almost empty
than when a crowd is at the door. — Surift,
It would be a considerable consolation to the poor and discontented, could they but see
the means whereby the wealth they covet has been acquired, or the misery that it entails. —
Zimmerman,
OUGHT XATIVE PRODLCE AXD INDUSTRY TO BE I'KOTECTKn ?
457
OUGHT xatim: rnoDucE axd industry to be protected ey
LEGISLATIVE EXACTiMEN'TS ?
NKGATIVE AIITICLE.— III.
Had tlie Luman race, nt its birth, found
iUclf scattered over the face of the cartii,
vith r.ll the differences of manners, religion,
ni di.ilect characterizing it at this stage of
'k» ''listcncc; and had mankind the liberty
of choo^ini; the manner in which all tho&e
tluhzs whicii arc either. iiMiful. agreeable, or
Kcessarr, shonld be di.stributcd, nnin's
wort-sighted policy, warped hj a love of casr,
Wild, no doubt, liarc suggested that each
^strict -should prrxluce all that a higlily-
dvilizcd 5tatc can dcaire. To man the idea
*wld appear absunl of so portioning out the
nrioas I'nKluets of nature that the {)athless
ooeu slkould be traversed in order to mi-
uirter to the wants of civillze«l life. Con-
ditio:; his love of ease, umn would have
AzowD together in the same district the
vines and fruits of the south ; the coals, iron,
od timber of the north ; the silks and spices
tf the east ; the cotton and sugar of the west ;
oi all those Toricd articles of minor ini-
ivtiDce wiiicli, scattered abroad upon the
cvtb, till up the measure of comforts, and
jdfe birth to commerce. An omniscient
Cmtor, however, thought otherwise. AVith
> deeper knowledge of mau than man has of
^>>aue]f, the Creator knew and supj>Iied the
W means for working out the ends of a
W tojoorn here. In what, at a cursory
Aooe, appears to be the height of imiirovi-
^"iftf in giving an vnifccimry amount of
Hoar, there will bo found involved on
T'aiination, as in every department of erea-
.^ a regard to the strictest economy. As
^ tlM animal economy, to economize space,
Itrticalar organB are made to perform dif-
^cnt, and even opposite, functions, so in the
^katl teooamjf toe simple act of supplying
l^yiical comforts is also made to subserve
ir higher and holier purposes, carrying out
Odh of tlie grandest objects of man's exist -
jcc Of tliese objects two seem more
peaaJlj interworen with the distribution
Datura's fkrmxn. Peace and Progress,
s of&I'iuiS of Commerce, are indissolubly
bound up in its soul-stfrring embraces, stand-
hig (sat in bold relief a monument of creative
wibdohi. And fthall man arrogantlv thwart
the wise intentions of i*rovidence? Shall- he
with impunity erect his artificial barriers in
detiuncc of the impressed will of (.it»d? Yet
man daros to eree>t these barriers. And does
the Creator suft'er from the rashness of his
crcature-i? No! The insane act,
" I.ikc u (li'vilisli enijiuc, back recoils
Ui>i;n l/TTusyll."
Till within a few vears man's historv is
littlo more than a recital of wars and devas-
tations. Cooi>cd up in particular districts,
and separated from each other by religion,
manners, or dialect, man had learned to con-
sider all without the bounds of his own
country in the light of natural enemies, and
even extending these antagonistic feehngs —
less strongly, indeed — to inhabitants of dif-
fi-rent districts of the same country. These
" nationalitioy," coupled v.itli the love of
gain, gave full play to all the worst pas-
sions of human nature, leading man into all
those enormities wliich di*figure his history.
Blinded by prejudice, man strayed fsom the
path of happiness, and, by an improper use
of the love of gain, defeated the very means
which the Creator had instituted for his
happiness. How (lilferent the modern use of
tlie love of gain I llow diflerent the rivalry
springing up between nations! Instead of
comi)cting in the luirrur? — we mean tbc
honours — of war, the market of the world is
now the field of honour. Feats of arms are
giving place to trials of distrii»uling, at the
chea[K!St rate, the comforts of life. Man has,
at last, ui'jcovered that his interi^st lies not
in destroying, but in preserving, " fureigners ;''
not in ])lundering, but in an iHiuitable ex-
change of the products of their re»i>ectivo
Ial>ours. Mutual interests unite the ichole
race. Antagonism, in whatever form, is
fatal to commerce — fatal to the interests of
all. A knowledge of this is levelling those
baiTlers which once separated nations, and
2x
458
OaGAT NATIVE PRODUCE ASD IVDUSTRT TO BB PROTECTED
gradntlly binding all in those bands which
once bonnd each to a particular centre.
Under the name of "protection," a moiety
of mankind still unwittingly strive to ignore
the designs of Providence, creating, bj their
restrictive policy, national animoeititf be-
tween nations whose joint intere&ts are ob-
▼lonsly bonnd np in peace and free exchange.
But, awakening to the fact that peace is
involved in the great principle of free ex-
change, their ranks are thinning, and their
opposition weakening. ** Dependence on
foreigners" is now seldom heard in a pro-
tective sense. Man is opening his ejes to
the fact that all are dependent, and that his
true interests lie, not in striving to make
himbelf independent, but in extending his
dependence. It is the great instrnment by
which the Deitj carries oat the watchword
of the Founder of Christianity, ** Peace on
earth, good-will toward men." Aware of
roan's sliort-comings, the Creator has made
his interests subservient to his happiness.
To give stability to the happiness of his
creatures, he has so distributed his gifts that
man's interests restrain his lawless desires ;
and make peace, consequently happiness,
depend, not on refusing, but on giving, every
facility to exchange. This principle is too
obvious to escape notice. Independent of
the great body of consumers, the number of
those merchants directly concerned is in pro-
portion to the extent of the trade, and the
extent of the trade proportionate to its free-
dom, thus increasing the number and strength
of PEACE securities by every paling knocked
down from our " legislative fence," and dif-
ftising more liberally the comforts of life.
Peace, therefore, demands, that not only
should every paling of our " legislative fence'*
be knocked off, but the rails removed, and the
posts duff up.
Having assumed that the distribution of
nature's favours was instituted by the Creator,
in accordance with that rigid economy every-
where discernible, for the parpoae of carrying
out ends superior to the mere supply of
physical comforts; and having seen that the
peace of the world is the more firmly cemented
in proportion to the ease with which iifferent
and independent districts can exchange these
favours ; we shall now see that the proobess
of mankind in civilisation is proportionate to
the freedom with which nations interchange
in commerce is free, fint, previously to dis-
cussing this point, we would remark that A.
seems to have mistaken the real question.
As a problem in political economy, the ques-
tion is put univenally, whereas A. has given
it only a particular application, selfishly
assuming that it is a matter of indifference
what becomes of others, so long as we fare
well. It would, however, be an easy matter
to show that the intertsts of all are inti-
mately blended with, and dependent upon,
the progression or retrogression of each par-
ticular nation. One grand law governs all
the works of creation. A defect in the mo-
tions of a planet would disturb the harmony
of the solar system; an irregular action of
one organ of the animal system would derange
the tchole assembfage of organs; ao, if only
one nation neglects to supply the rest witli
what the genius of its people, or the capacity
of its soil and climate, will produce, or by
legislative enactments prevents the iree in-
terchange of its peculiar products, a diocoxd
in the social ec(momy is the conseqa«ice.
Sympathy is a ruling principle. One part
cannot perform its functions irregulariy with-
out the rest sympathizing, and thus progress
is retarded. Not only every nation, but CTeiy
individual, must contribute his share to the
essential principle of progress, for m»n*8 pony
mind is not comprehensive enough to grasp
all knowledge, it is only by long and dose
attention to a particular snbject that roan
has made those strides which characterize
our age. The finest intellect — a mind
which, if its powers had been brought to
bear on one subject, would have wrought ont
grand results, is entirely di^ipated, and its
powers stultified, by grasping too much.
Divide and conquer is the secret of success
in more senses than one. Man would not
have emerged from barbarism if each had
continued to supply his own wants. A
division of labour is the key to success. But
the principle of division acquires additiional
force when applied to nations ; for, indepen-
dently of carrying out fully the principle of
division, differing soils and climates, and the
varied genius of the human £imily, allow
some to produce with ease what others can
but imperfectly produce with an immense
amount of trouble. England's iron and ooal,
and the energy of her people, give her a pre-
eminence in those manufactures which have
conduced so much to her present prood
position. The dimate and soil of the south
BT LSGULATIVB KNACTMBXTS?
459
of France, Spain, and Portngal, bring to per-
fection those delicunu fmits, from one kind
of which wine ia made. The West Indies is
best adapted for angar, cotton, &c ; the East
for settees, aiik, &c. The mind of a single
nation wonid be distracted in producing
eveiything required bj a higblj-civilized
pei^Ie, even if its soil and climate were
fsTonrable. We require the wines and
fmits of Spain, Portugal, &c. These,
of an ittdifforent quality, could not be pro-
duced by us without tlie greatest difficulty
and immense expense. These nations re-
quire our manufactures; but a want of coal,
and the scarcity of iron, would make it more
difficult and expensive for them to produce
them in a very imperfect state, than it would
for us to produce their fruits and wuies.
The same with the sugar and cotton of the
West, the spices and silk of the East. In
these examples it will be seen that it is not
impossible to produce all the diffi»rent pro-
ducts in each pUce mentioned; but, where
each can be well supplied with all by the
present order of production, and each par-
ticular branch carried to a higher share of
perfection, all of them would be very mea-
grely supplied, and progress would be known
only by mime, were each to produce aU these
commodities. This law will allow of no ex-
ceptioos. Wherever a commodity can be
pcodnced best and cheapest, however trifling
the dsffersBce, the common weal — the interest
of mankind — ^points out that spot as the place
of its produce; and there is no habitable
, portion of the globe which could not produce,
better than all the rest, some article which
the rest require. It b this territorial division
of the task of producing cUi those com-
modities which are either necessary, useful,
or agreeable to man, coupled with another
important principle^ one that has been en-
tirely oveHk>oked in assigning causes for the
superior energy of the Anglo-Saxon race,
security of property — ^that gives speed to
progression. Now, protection has a tendency
to, and really does, force mind and capital
into channels for which, in particular locali-
ties, they are not adapted, and diverts them
from those channels which the genius of the
people and the soil and climate point out as
the more natural courses, thus frittering
away valuable time and capital in pursuits
which others can follow easier, better, and
cheaper fur us, and pn)portionately neglect-
ing those pursuits which the nature of things
show to he our Intimate spheres of action.
If the order of nature is inverted — if, to the
neglect of what they can do, a people, de-
sirous of doing everything, attempt what
others can do better for them, is it not clear,
from the limiied capacity of tbe mind of
man, and from natural disadvantages, that
progress must be retarded? To non-protec-
tionists this conclusion seems inevitable from
the premises; and we deem ourselves right
in standing by that conclusion till those pre-
mises are shown to be false and unsupported.
We think there has been sufficient said to
show that PBAOB and progress hinge on this
question of free trade — that those legislative
enactments, purporting to protect, form a
sliding scale, by which peace and PftoaRESS
are eked out to mankind. If protection is in
the ascendant, peace and prepress are in tbe
descendant, gradually shifting the balance,
as protection relaxes its deadening gripe, till,
by thrusting protection to the bottom of tbe
scale, PEACE and pbooresb are paramount.
Protectionists may, however, have some
other principle, more important than peace
and progiess, upon which to base their
policy; if so, we hope some ^'friend" to
'* native produce and industry" will unfuld it.
A. has not even hinted at a principle, except
we allow his doubtful means of «ei/*-aggraa-
dizemeat to be a principle.
H. P. H 8.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
InsAKBLT unmindful of the probability
that some witty contributor to the Ctrntro-
vertiaHtt may compliment us on our Quixotic
chivalry in coming forward **at this time of
daj" to champion the ** worn-out fallacy of
protection," we will nevertheless — such is the
hardihood of our ]>rfjudice — venture to con-
fesa oonelves one of those deluded mortals
who presume to call in question the sound-
ness of Manchester thcorism ; and, further,
not content with this lamentable extremity
of infistuation, will even proceed, with the
editors* courteous permission, to defend our
criminality, by offering to our free-trade
friends some few considerations, which appear
to our distorted vision *'rery like** reasons
460
OUGnT NATn'E FBODUCE AKD ISDUSTBT TO BE PROTBCTEn
for our persuting io snch a course. We
cannot mrsiiine to mj thtj are nev> : few
controvevBies have been more nearlj ex-
hansted than this : nor do we affect to trn-
derstand all the economical questions in-
volTed, and must, therefore, needs surrender
such an admission to the adrerse polemic for
what it is worth; but we hare thought on
the subject, if that is anything, and our
thoughts have led us to condnsioDs to which,
until demolished, we must continue to adhere.
For space* sake our opinions must dispense
with further heralding, and make their bow
at once.
J. *' Ought native produce and industry
to be protected by legislatiTe enactments?"
First, we shall Tiew the question theoreti-
caifyf and answer, Yes; because a contrary
policy is uftnatUmal. On^ht a nation, then,
to isolate itself from all others, abjure foreign
trade, and Britain, for instance, make the
Bca whirh surrounds her a barrier rather
than a highway? By no means. ** Free
trade" (so called) owes half its laurels to
mistakes — we will not say, that we may avoid
unnecessary skirmishing, misrepresentations.
Protection does not mean m<aopoIy. When
it becomes a premium on monopdy it defeats
its end, and we, for ourselves, disown it.
Correspondent C. W., Jun., quotes M. Soy,
who observes : — ** A government which abso-
hiteltf prohibits the importation of certain
foreign goods creates a monopoly in favour
of those who produce such commodities at
home against those who consume them.*' Of
course it does. But who asks for any such
*' absolute prohibition," or for any fiscal policy
so rigid as practically to amount to it? What
we advocate is, such a regulation of the im>
port system as may reasonably balance the
native producer's disadvantages (if any) as
against foreign producers, without so far
shielding him from the salutary influence of
competition as that, if exorbitant or negli-
gent, his foreign competitor might not coun-
terweigh the balance and displace him. We
found this on the proposition, which appears ,
to ns totally indisputable, that it is the dnty >
ofttery fuUian, to develops to the utmost of
its potoer^ its otm industry and resources.
We confidently ask, is this to be done by
leaving things alone? Commerce being un- '
re<rulated, will not every foreign commodity
which is cheaper than that produced at home
be patronized in preference by all whose in-
terest is their only rule of action, or whose
intellects cannot see beyond £. s. d.? Con-
sequently, will not every branch of home
industry be discouraged, but those very few
(in some cases there would be none) in which,
from local advantages, they chanced to excel
above all others? Xaj, mfght not some de-
partments of industry be totally unworked
which, while they could not in their early
stages compete with those in more favour-
able circumstances, would tdtimatelff excel?
Now, how pitiable is the condition of that
communitj which is dependent upon other
communities for all it consumes, savo in the
one or two sections of industry in which it
can defy rivalry ! How inglorious in peace —
how dangerous in war! How ruinous] j ex-
pensive at all times! An empire cannot
afford to live in furnished lodgings; for hone
trade is necessarily moro profitable than
foreign. Nothing, therefore, should be done
without which can be done within. It is a
bootless bargain if A, a partner in the firm
of A, B, and 0, purchase goods for bis pri-
vate use of D and Ce. which bis own firm
could supply, and the profits of which would
augment the common fund, because D and
Ca sell them a few shillings cheaper. Bat,
to say nothing of the capital fiomn^Jrom a
ooantry in fweign trade which in home trade
would flow into it, it has missed the opportu-
nity of developing its natursl resources, pro-
ducing at home, working more labour, «nd
thus creating additional capital and addi-
tional plenty. "But," says the economist^
"restrictions create a monopoly for the pro*
ducer against the consumer." And non-
restrictions give the foreign producw a nx>-
nopoly against both. Which (allowing the
first assertion to be true) is preferable? The
second we conceive to exhibit adisadvantacp
which no superficial cheapnen will counter-
balance. "Buy in the cheapest market" is.
says the author of ** Sophisms of Free Trade/ ^
" a recommendation perfectly sound, provided
yon are sure that every one will be fully and
permanently employed in producing the meoois
of purchase." Bat, by diaoonragiog home
industry, you destroy this producing-por-
chasing power; and what, then, becomes of
the imaginary advantage? If, then, the
proposition at the bead of this pangr^>h be
admitted— and we see not how it can b«
denied — ^we only ask here one question morr.
Are the resom'cea of the British empire
BY LEGISLATIVE ENACTMENTS?
451
exhausted ? Is one-half of them developed ?
Ko empire has had such advantages; none
has employed them, proportionately, less.
And what a commercial aspect docs it now
present to the world? It might be tradinf;
amongst its own members, producinc: and
exchan«rin«^ the commodities of evci7 climate
nnder heaven, constantly reproducing its
capital, fully employing its own labour, traf-
ficking in its own ships, worked hy \i^ own
seamen. It U throwing open to all the world
markets all the world is only too glad to
avail itself of, without return; sufTerinp: noble
colonies, each a princely domain in itself, to
lie in ruins, whilbt expecting an allegiance
every interest counsels them to refuse; its
capital flowing abroad, its labour half em-
ployed, its poor in unions instead of fields
and factories, its commerce brought in foreign
ships, worked by foreign seamen. Can a
contrast be greater or more suicidal? llalf-
a -dozen years of accidental prosperity will
not settle this question.
Secondlv. Unrejmlated commerce is nn-
»mtnbh. "Free trade" would be a pretty
fancy for Madame Tussand's, but is ill adapted
to the social verities of the world as it is.
Like all other theories of equality, it ignores
the fact that the world is by nature full of
inequalities. A certain great monarch could
Rnt make all his clocks strike together; nor
ronld fifty make all soils produce, or all
mines yield, alike. It is dkc stubborn fact,
that some countries have natural and local
advantages over others, which in most cases
will prove commercial advantages too. It is
another stubborn fact, that the less favoured
have also their mines and their soils. Are
they to be neglected ? Impossible. But, if
worked equally well with the others, their
producta will still have the odds against
tiiem, for an advantage to one without a
disadvantage to the other is an absurdity.
M'bere are the remedies? There are only
two. The less favoured may depress labour,
and wring his countervailing profit from a
nation's very sinews — its working classes.
Few will recommend that. Few would like
to see the standard of the British labourer
reduced to that of those men by whom some
of the grain which appears in our markets
IS cultivated. What then? If the moun-
tain will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet
must go to the mountain. The two must
be equalized by a reasonable protection to
the less favourably circumstanced. Wo must
confess ourselves amazed at seeing C. W.,
Jun., affirm that "restrictions deaden the
commercial spirit, and confine trade to par*
ticular spots." We believe the contrary to
be the truth. The tendency of " free trade'*
is to localize commerce in favoured spots.
It leaves local advant.ages and local disad-
vantages to Jtake their course: a protective
poUcy equalizes them. Supposing universsl
" free trade" to prevail for a century; where,
at its close, would half the industry of the
world be? Inevitiibly swamped by the other
half. " Free trade "' actuallj^ creates a mo^
iiopolf/ in favour of same communities agaiiist
others, of (lie few as ar/ainst iJie many!
Thirdly. It is unreal. It has not, and
cannot have, a genuine existence. Trade
cannot be free where one man is in unre-
stricted competition witlt another who carries
half his burden. It would not be so if all
the world adopted the policy. Much less is
it so when the foreign competitor retains the
artificial privilege in addition to tlie intrinsic.
" The revenue must be raised," too; and if
the stranger does not bear his fair share in
retuni for commercial privileges for which
the native pays handsomely, the native must
bear all, with the penalty, if he be not as
humble in his demands as his premunircd
competitor, of surrendering the mai-ket to
him. An equitable arrangement, truly ! Sure
free trade is an impossibility; hut a partial
and mischievous parody of it is not.
II. We now glance at the subject praC'
tically. We believe " free trade" to be not
more fallacious as a theory than deceptive as
a fact. We charge it with being — Firat, In-
equitable. We have asserted that it would
be justly thus characterized, even if its pre-
valence were universal ; but it is not, nor is
ever likely to be. Yet England, kindly
studious of the interests of mankind at large,
and forgetting the sphere assigned by pro-
verbial philosophy to the commencement of
charity's labours, throws herself, after a few
exciting debates, into a line of policy admitted
by many of its advocates to bo safest when
most general. The classes whose property
is thus carelessly jeopardized expostulate in
vain, or are generously instructed in the
elements of their professions by those whoso
entire ignorance of them so well fit them for
the ofiUce. We suppose it will not be denied
that the British agriculturist, for instance,
462
OUGHT NATIVE FRODUCE AND INDUSTRY TO BB PROTECTED
is not 80 adrantageonslj circanist&nced as
that no foreign agricnltarist is more so. The
character of our soil and cliooate, and of
our labouring class, as compared with some
others, must be fancies which we have mis-
taken for facts if it be so. Can he, then,
compete on equal terms? If not, shall we
put him on equal terms? The protective
principle says "Yes;" the non -protective,
" No." WhJch is the most equitable? The
British producer, beitcn in his own market
is shut out from every other. The colonist
sees his grounds lying waste, while every
gale bears past him to his mother country
the produce which he might send thither.
The seaman looks at the coming vessel, and
feeb that he should have worked her. The
starving labourer sees the stores of grain,
and reflects that they should have been the
result of his labour. And the thoughtful
purchaser knows he is paying into the ag-
gregate floating capital of another country
that which would have found its way into
the pockets of the British producer, the
British seaman, and the British labourer;
and, by helping them agcdn to produce and
transport, have doubled its own value.
Secondly. Inconsistent. It does but " rob
Peter to pay Paul;" the Peter, however,
being just he who ought not to be robbed,
and the Paul just he who ought not to be
paid at his expense. There is, virtually, a
protection to one party or other in either
policy. If A and B, as producers, be on
«qual terms, then " free trade," which takes
something away from one, makes them un-
equal ; if they be already unequal, the taking
away that something increases the disparity.
Furthermore, it denies protection to one class
which it tolerates to another. The protected
classes of the present hour are just thoae
who have least to fear from foreign compe-
tition. Some of those who clamour loudest
for " free trade" are at this moment filling
their parses with the profits of protection!
We believe, that of those who now call
^themselves free-traders, probably one-half
are, more or less, protected, and would com-
plain loudly if that protection were removed.
Yet what becomes of consistency if it is not?
Where is consistency, if that which gives one
man a loaf of bread deprives another of the
means of obtaining it? — if that which pro-
fesses to relieve the labourer is continually
diminishing the market value of his labour ? —
if that which supplies the poor with cheap
sugar supplies the man-bazaar with cheap
slaves? Where is consistency, when tbo
following facts and figures are taken into
account ? In the year 1 850 the gross amount
of the public revenue was £57,000,000,
which was contributed in the following pro-
portions:— property and income tax, 5| miU
lions; assessed taxes, 4|; stamps, 6f ; post-
office, 2\ ; sundries, 1 ; customs and excise,
37!
In the strange inconsistency which is ma-
nifest between predictions and results, or
results among themselves, the free-traders
betray the shallowness of their theory. Our
flouriiihing state as a manufacturing com-
munity is appealed to. It is our manufactures
which are most protected ! Manchester,
Liverpool, Birmingham, have not their rivals
in the world. True; and they became Man*
Chester, Liverpool, and Birmingham before
1846! Protection cramps and depresses
trade and commerce! Yet during its reign
our merchant princes and mill princes, in-
cluding the great foes of protection, acca-
mulated their wealth. Protection is an
iiristocratic device, and an agency of class-
domination! Yet America is rigidly pn^
tectionist — Turkey a free trade country I It
is only suited to the feudal ages I Yet the
United States have risen marvellously with
it in half a century I It degrades and de-
bases industry ! |Yet wretched Ireland has
perfectly free trade with the greatest markets
of the world. Protected mantifactures are
sickly! Yet they are beginning to beat
others in free-trade markets. Protectionists
are short-sighted, narrow-minded men! Yet
Colbert, Talleyrand, Xapoleon, Alexander of
Russia, Waiihington, Clay, Cromwell, WaU
pole, Chatham, were protecticmists. We are
told in one place that protection was the
enrichment of one class at the expense of the
rest ; in another, that to remove it is doing
that class a great service. In short, wc
might fill an article with incomtibtencies of
this character.
Thirdly. Untiife, Few firee-traden deny
we are making a great experiment. Expe-
rience to guide ns Uiere is none. The policy
of all countries and ages has been genarally
protective. Discretion is the better part of
valour; and whether Great Britain is exactly
the laboratory, and her commeixrial interests
the agents with which to experiment remains
BY LEGISLATIVE r:NACTME:«Ta?
403
to be seen. We repeat, a few yean will by
BO means refer this qaestion to the oblivion
to which, in their ill-c(«icealed tenderness
for ita being canvassed, the friends of free
importa would hare it consigned. " Protec<
tion is dead*' is a rery good joke for the
platform; bat it will take a long, long course
of years, exhibitiDg results decided and un-
mistakable (we have a right to ask this, for
sach is the evidence of a past protective
policy), to make it a fact. Meantime, we
deny that the aspect of the hist three or four
yean is satisfactory. The enormous increase
of emigration proves two things — distress,
in, at all events, some quarters, fur people
seldom fly from prosperity; and a consider-
able (relative) decrease In the number of
haxMbi to be employed and mouths to be filled
at home. If ** free trade" be what it claims,
we ahonld have been at least at prosperous
as we are had these remained at home. Who
will assert it would have been so? The vast
nunbcr of British seamen In the American ser-
vice proves another thing — on which the less
said the better for our national credit, except
tiut it tells tales regarding a protected and
an oDprotected navy respectively. The wide-
spread diminution of the value of labour
(which we an pnpared to prove) proves
another thing. But space compels us to
pause. We will simply throw a few facts
together hen without comment. Increased
exports no proof of increased prosperity ; — In
1820 the exports of printed cotton amounted
to 134,688,144 yards, the value being
£7,742.505; in 1834, to 271,755,651 yards,
value, £7,613,179. Injustice: — ^We impoit
cotton to the value of ten millions which
our own colonies might supply. The number
of acres of arable land under cultivation in
Ireland decreased one-half between 1846 and
1848. In 1850, as compared with 1849,
imports in British shipping decreased by
202,268 tons; foreign, 30,580: exports-
British shipping, increase, 173,245 tons;
foreign, 333,604. 1851, compared with
1850, imports— increase, British, 215,054
tons; forei^rn, 740,791 : exports — increase,
British, 132,940 tons ; foreign, 446,832.
Labour and pauperism : — Beductions of wages
since 1846— Nottingham, 45 percent.; Staf-
fordshire, 50; Banbury, 25. At Manchester,
when corn was at SOs., the poor rate was 50
per cent, lower than now. In 1845, 8,S39
were in the unions there; in 1851, 13,317.
In Glasgow, the union expenses in the same
yean wen £20,000 and £110,000 respec-
tively.
These facts might be multiplied; but we
must leave that to othera. Our client mu^t
dispense with a peroration. Reader, close
your e^^ to political prejudice and popular
excitement, and give a true verdict according
to the evidence. Say if native produce and
industry ought not to be protected ?
W. S. V.
NEGATIVE REPLY.
** A fteedom of trade is alone wanted to gaa-
rantce to a country like Britain, abounding in all
tbc varied products of industry — in merchandise
suited to the wants of every society, fhnn the pos-
•ibiKty of a seareity. The nations ot the eartli
are noi condemned to throw the dice to determine
wbi<di of them shall submit to Itamioe. TKtre is
alwayt abundance of food in the world. To
et\/oy a conMtant pJen^f^ we have only to lay
ande our prohibihone emi reitrictimUfand eeaie
to eounieract the benevolent wisdom ^f Inci-
dence."— Encyclopadia Britannica.
Teat there are none so blind as those
who vill mot Me, and none so deaf as those
who will not hear, are truths bo plain and
palpable, that scarcely the moat hardy coik-
trovertialiat woold dare to deny them.
Saiely, then, when any man, or any body of
men, will come forward, and, in the face of
the moat direct evidence to the eootraiy,
openly deolare thai " the tendency of free
trade is to localise commerce into favoured
spots" (J. S. J.), or that free trade "has
not opened one tingle market which we did
not possess before," we may be forgiven if
we associate such persons as among those
who "will not see," and "who will not
hear!"
Of course, it is not to be expected that,
while the din of the great battle of "freo
trade versus protection" is still in our eart<,
the vanquished party should sink quietly
down in their defeat, without levelling a
single stray shot at their victors. This
would be contrary to the usual characteristics
of human nature. The protectionists feel
upon free trade as the French are said to
feel r^arding Waterloo / they would like to
have the chanee of one more conflict with
oa. Well, when the one happens we may
4C4
OCGIIT XA'nVK PUODUCE AND INDUSTRY TO BK PIIOTKCTED
expect the other. Tho chances are about
equal.
The position of this Jebate forcibly reminds
us of some lines by Tom Moore, written
during the time that political and party feel-
ing was running high upon the momentous
question before us:—
*' Write on, write on, ye baron;* doflv ;
Ye dukes, write Imvd ai^d Inst !
Tlie jfooJ vrc've sought for muny a year
Your iiuills will brin^ at la.<«t.
For, never uinof the precious u.-e
Of pen und ink began,
Did letters writ by produce
Stich precious good to man !
" Write, write, ye peers, nor stcop to style,
Nor beat for 8en>e about ; —
Squire?, think not reason wortli yourwliile,
But Htill your uonscnite vpout.
Oh, ne'er since -^— spoke beloru
Such miracles were clone ;
Make but a lew such sjiecches more.
And Free Trades cause is won 1 "
We should be very sorry to assert that all
the allubious here made apply to the cir-
cumstances of the present ca.-ie. We will do
our opponents the justice to state that they |
have brought fonvard some of the strongest :
arguments we have ever seen advanced in !
support of protection; but at the best we
believe them to be bad. Wo charge the
affirmative writers with having fallen into
an error in the treatment of this subject.
We underbtood, at the outset, that the prin-
ciple of affording legislative protection to
native industry was to be discussed, and not
how far any particular country, standing
alone, might be atfected! If such a con-
sideration ought to be involved, it certaiidy
should be only a secondary, and not the jiri-
mury, object of the discussion.
The first affinnative writer, A., plainly
admits that he does not "advocate the
abstract principle of protection as of uni-
vti'sat applicuhVity !'^ He says that, "at
certain stages in a nation's progress,** it may
be "properly," or even "beneficially," ap-
plied. We will not deny the fact that
isolated instances will spring up where a
temporary advantage may arise from pro-
tective restrictions ; but we will by no means
admit that such ipecial casti prove the uni-
versal soundness of the principle. On the
contrary, if any country becomes involved in
circumstances which render it desirable for it
to c:cclude the products of other countries iu
order tliat its own may rise in price, it be-
comes clear that the commerce of the coon-
tries so excluded must sutfer to a pixtpcf-
tionato extent; and it becomes ako Ctix,
that the greater tho number of countnei
which adopt any such restrictive policj, tlie
greater will be the disadvantage to theoth.-r
countries usually trading with thein. Tliis
truth seems so obvious to us, that we are
sorry to have to occupy any space in pro-
claiming or defending it.
The principles laid down by free traders
are these: — That, in certain parts of tht
world, certain commodities can be produced
at a much smaller cost tlian the sanic coun-
moJitios can be produced elsewhere:— tiiat
every country possesses some peculur «l-
vaut:tge of this sort: — that it is an advan-
tage to the consumer to have all commocitift
produced at the cheapest remunerative rate;
and that countries cau exchange their Mveral
and respective commodities to as roach au-
vant<ige mutually as individual traders ex-
change theirs. They maintaiu that, bj this
mutual principle of interchange, coaiinerce
becomes more extended and diffused— that »
wholesome stimulus is imparted to manufac-
tures, and that individual losses are far mi^re
than compensated for in the. national g^>°'
At present we have met with no sounJ org^*
ment to the contrary.
We cannot help expressing our regret tiat
men of education and ability should cuuilii^
to lend their countenance to a j-olicy vhicU
the greatest commercial country in thc*w*J*
has declared to be erroneous in principlf' "
not absolutely ruinous iu its tcndenev. 1*^
plea that other countries still adhere to *
protective policy has no weight whate^*^*
They, like Kngland, may have entered np'*
a wrong policy ; and, like her, they will haj^
to retrace their steps, or prepare) to suffer th*
consequences of their own folly. Bat tt*
conviction lias already come home to ffls^r
of them. Let the reader take the puo*.^
glance at the recent alterations of the tarij
of Belgitmi, Spain, Bussia, Xorway, I)cnin*'*»
Austria, Holland, the Two Sicilies, 1\isaf.\
Sardinia, the lioman States, and )\tDff>'
Let him do this, and then answer if be «^
not see something " looming in the diitsoce*
Every one of the above countries, kingdtfiA
and states, have considerably redaced the^
restrictive policies bince Knghtodaet tkemt*'
just an example.
We know that it Is to tlie temponiy u^
r.Y I.KGIST.ATIVE ENACTMENTS?
465
tercsts of our doss legislators to fteop up the
JHnsion of a rctuminp: protective policy ; but
'^th liiiw little calm consistency such a
coarse can be persisted in, those who watch
the current progress of events can best dc-
temiine. "We are all free-traders now,"
Slid Mr. Cobden on the hustinfl:s at the lost
election for the West Kiding.— '* I think it
^^y uuty," said the president of the Board of
Trade to the electors of the count v of Oxford,
to tell my agricultural friends in dillerent
P*it8 of tiie country that there is no chance
^* a dianjfe ; that there is no intention on
io« part of any man to propose that jxirlia-
*««it should restore any laws which the
yoice of the country has completely re-
jected."—" Gentlemen," said the son and
l>«r of Lord Derby at Lynn, " the question
{»f protection is set at rest, and 1 am glad of
It."— "Why," exclaimed Mr. Disraeli at
Bocks, "no one can-snpj)ose that the present
Ministration hcLi antf intent ((m^ or ever had
^y 'lUention, of taxing the food of the people,
* cf briuijiDj back the laws repealed in
1846!" llere, then, wo see protection be-
cominc: truly "small by degrees, and beauti-
fully less!"
The landowners have been, and no doubt
for H time will be, "loud in their wail" at
the change of fortune which has overtaken
them. Kut let the!n look back to the days
of their prosperity.
" They knew no intercitt but their own ;
They slioc^k the stale, thej nhook the throne ;
They shook the world ; and Hod alone
Seemed safe in his oniuipotence ! "
Tltelr day has now come.
We have nothing more to say, or to ask,
than that our readers should examine well
the whole question. We have endeavoured
to do so, and the result is, that we are pre-
pared to assert, with that champion of the
people, Charles James Fox, that, "if n
weaver in Lancashire produces a piece of
cloth, and a husbaudman on the banks of
the Ohio grows a quarter of wheat, these two
men ought to be at liberty to exchange their
respective products, and that no law otighi
to prtvent suck an inttrchange !"
C. W., Jan.
AITIKMATIVE REPLY.
The importance of this question has been
f% acknowledged by the interest taken in
tt discttfsion by the editors and readers of
^ Controrersta^ist. We have had some
^ good pro and con. articles in point of
"^'noent, more in point of diligence, and
'jjj' more in point of literary talent. We
*"Ooid have liked to have seen the respective
j"Pun«it« of each more minutely examined,
*** the writers confined themselves to a
J** limited sphere, exhausting it instead
.']*Biing over the whole continent, and
Wong np only a few stray facts and argu-
J^ts. In this reply we shall confine our-
***** solely to the consideration of our
^Rpoomts' papers.
. ^'W., Jun., opens the debate by prcsent-
^ ^ with one of the bollowest and most
jj*Wefidkcie« ever imposed on the cre-
'% of mankind. He telU us that " scarcely
^7 coontry contains in itself all the natural
i^Ktkns for the physical necessities and
••tfwBwnti of life," Granted; but where is
t^ belling of this proposition on the ques-
^f When we ask legislation to protect
tstive iodtutry, we do not thereby wish
bffl to ezdnde the importation of those
goods not native, but which arc essential for
their existence, or expedient for their com-
fort. Trade as niuch as you like with
foreign nations; but when the same articles
arc to be had at home, if foreign importation
is not to be trholff/ prevented, such restric-
tions, most assuredly, should bo made upon
it, as that native commercialists may not be
placed beyond the power of competition, or
native industry checked, and eventually de-
stroyed.
*' Again: — The prohibitive restriction of
importation creates a monopoly in favour of
the producer, and hence against the con-
sumer." Not at all. It is not necessary
that foreign agencies be introduced in order
to originate competition and prevent mono-
poly. These will naturally spring up of
themselves, and do so continually. We deny
the illustration. It is not principally because
France is a warmer country that she excels
us in silk manufactures, but because wo are
not suflScicntly protected to be able to com-
pete with her. (Jive us p«)per legislative
protection, and Kngland will soon derelop
her stores of silk, as well as her "inex-
haustible supply of iron."
466
OUGHT NATIVE PRODUCE AND ISDC8TKY TO BE PROTECTHD?
Come, then, and *' look at the matter in
detail." " Unrestricted commerce has a ten-
dency to promote manofactares, and cover
the earth with industry." Proof ? It is an
old principle. Yes; bat we hare no great
faith in antiquity. It is an almost universal
axiom, that opposition whets the blunt power
of action in man — strengthens the weak, and
develops the latent. It is so with commerce
also. Let it proceed in a calm, dull, unop-
posed coarse, and it will lull its keepers
asleep, and exhaast its own strength; bat
give it something to grapple with— give it
something that must necessarily elicit ex-
ertion, and evexy second trinmph will be the
precursor of another, and every successive :
defeat stimulate to redoubled efforts, and lead
to ultimate success.
"Protected manufactares have almost
always been foand in a languishing state."
Indeed! Certainly, the illustrative figures
quoted are a little alarming; but figures in
these modern times, we have been told, are
merely a canning comer in which to coach
an iffnoraUo elenchi^ so we are on our guard.
The evil result mentioned — is it not more
probable? — should be traced, not to the fact
that these manufactures obtained legal pro-
tection, but that the one was protect^ at the
expense of the other. That is not our idea
of protection. We wish alt species of native
industry protected, and all equally.
Here we take leave of C. W., Jun. He
proceeds to his peroration—a part of a speech
at which we have a particular dislike; and,
of course, this cannot be done with proper
eclat without a few flashes of poetry—
■ " Xee mibi talium
B«s est aut animus ilelioiarum egens^
A few words with H. T. His first argu-
ment resolves itself into the leading idea of
our last adveitarius cunicua^ which we have
already shown to be irrelevant to the point ;
and, examined logically, a flagrant petitio
principiL We admit that Britain requires
much from other countries necessary for the
maintenance of ''civilized life;" but this
ai^es nothing against the expediency — nay»
necessity — of protecting by legislative enact-
ments the products of native industry. ** The
selfish rapacity'* of protectionists, forsooth!^
of men whose grand aim and object have
always been to maintain Britain in that lofty
position among the nations of Europe which
she has so long adorned— men who have
sacrificed time, talent, and substance, to pi»-
serve our country from an inglorious grave ;
a rapacity which has snatched from invading
enemies the B^ritish standard when on the
point of being torn to shreds — a rapacity
which has seized on every honourable an^
honest opportunity to preserve the name of
Britain unsullied, and her institutions sacred
and stable. If H. T. calls these men, and
such rapacity, seJjiah^ we would like to know
from whose vocabulary he extracts the term.
But, passing over this gentleman's other argu-
ments— as the one quoted is a fair specimeo,
and to refute would only be to recajntnlate^*
let us glance a minute at the John BuU
blunder. The fact that Britain is notorious
all the world over for her industry and enter-
prising spirit, we repeat, does argue very
much for the principle of protection. It was
under ^fatdty system of protection that she
attained that character. To what height
would that character rise under a wiser sys-
tem of protection? We wish to try the ex-
periment ; but our opponents make confusion
more confounded, and aim at depriving us
altogether of those resources from which we
have extracted all the treasures that have
enriched our nation and enhanced its cha-
racter.
We have done. Let our non-protective
opponents weigh considerately this momen-
tous question. We speak from the depths of
our heart when we exclaim, Alas! alas! fw
Britain! Alas! alas! for British industry,
when deserted by its own friends! when for-
saken by all guards, and exposed to a ruthless
world! — ^the consummation which all who
reply to this question in the negative seem to
long for. Gentlemen, this is our answer. A.
Nothing can be a greater check to the vantonness of power than the privilege of
unfolding private grievances at the bar of the public. Thns the cause oi individuals is
made a public concern, and the general indignation which thor wrongs exdte forms at
once the severest punishment which can be inflicted on the oppressor, and one of the
strongest bulwarks that can be raised in defence of the unprotected.
mechanics' DI8TXTUTIOXS,' AND PROJECTS FOR THEIR IMPROVEMENT. 467
€liJ mit\m' Irrtinii,
MECHANICS' INSTITUTIONS, AND PROJECTS FOR THEIR
IMPROVEMENT.
There are about 750 iostitutioDS iu the United Kingdom bearing the names of Lite-
raf7 and Scientific Institutions, Mechanics' Institutes, Athenoiums, Mutual ImproTement
SocietieSi and the like.
The Mechanics' Institutions were originally established for the instruction of working
men in the arts they practise, and in those branches of science which are applied more
particularly to the manufactures in the locality of th« institution. This has been a com-
plete failure; the object sought has not been realized in a single instance; and the
mechanics' institutions have passed out of the hands of the artisans and become the meet-
ing places of the better middle classes. Lectures were at one time very popular, and they
were then giren in courses, and to a great extent were instructive. They hare, however,
suffered a lamentAble decay ; and single lectures, or courses of two or three only, are now
usuaI. One week a lecture on science is delivered, and, since it must be essentially
popular, it not unfrequently happens that truths are told with very considerable adorn-
ment: then follows a lecture on literature; next, one on the drama; then, prubably, a
concert, or some entertainment of the lightest order. By this system the institntions
have been committing a self-slaughter: they introduce exciting food for the mind; and,
like stimulants for the body, appetite for them increases. The result of this was exem-
plified in a speech from one of the delegates to the Society of Arts, who said — at his
institution, when the best scientific lectures were given, five shillings were taken at the
doors; but, when any amusing matter was introduced, as many pounds were received.
Acting upon this principle, the institutions have entered on a career of competition with
the theatre and the concert-room, in which they must eventually be the losers; and, the
valae of the lectures estimated by their power to draw paying audiences, the clown must
beat the chemist at this. Indeed, all the institutions are now suffering from the conse-
quences of their own folly and mismanagement. They were established as the means of
adult instruction, and they have degenerated into theatres of amusement. We have now
before us announcements from two of the most tuccesuful of the mechanics' institutions,
that concerts will be given during their autumn course, in which Mr. Sims Reeves and his
wife will appear. Lectures on music are eminently appropriate, provided the vocal or
instrumental accompaniments are introduced as illustrations of the science of harmonics^
the tendency of which is of the most soul-refining character. But the institution is not
the place for a concert; and, by accustoming the members to such excitements, healthful
though they be in their proper place, the result proves that they nnfit them for lectures
of a purely instructive character, which are, for tlie most part, voted ** dry."
" It is interesting," says Dr. Hudson, ** to trace the career of the popular literary
societies of the country, and to compare their operations and their results with the expec-
tations entertained by their first promoters. The founders of literary and mechanics'
institutions assumed that these associations would effect three great purposes. First.
463 MECnAyiCS* raSTITUTIOSS, AND PROJECTS FOR THEIR IMPROTEMEKT.
The rapid promotion of general science, by the greater number of persons eng&ged in tl:e
observation of its phenomena. The lower ranks, who are chieflj engaged in manaal
labour, have frequent opportunities of making obser^^ations on certain peculiarities ia tl:c
processes of art which often escape the notice of obser\'ers of a superior rank, and thus
the labouring classes of society would be rendered mutually useful in uniting and concen»
t rating the scattered niys of genius, which might otherwise be dissipated and lo^t to th?
scientific world. Second. An extensive diffusion of rational information among the gencrol
mass of societies; for, by mi'ans of lectures and popular discussions, those narrow concep-
tions, superstitious notions, and vain fears, which so generally prevail among tlie lo«cr
classes of society, might be gradually removed, and a variety of useful hints and rntio^s^
Tiews suggested, promotive of domestic convenience and comfort. Third, The creation cf
intellectual pleasures and refined amusements, tending to the general elevation of clii-
racter. The frequent intercourse of men of diffei-ent parties and grades of lift-, for thf
purpose of promoting one common intellectual object, gradually vanquishing th'>sc pre-
judices and jealousies which almost universally exist, even in cultivated min^ls, i?,
unquestionably, an object to be cherished and encouraged. By such means a ta:>te fur
rational enjoyments may be produced, and those hours generally spent in liotlcsfiness snl
in foolish amusements may be converted into periods rendered precious by tiie incnlcatiw
uf enlightened and elevating principles. Habits of order, punctuality, and politeness,
would be engendered, and flow from thence into all the other relations and departments of
life."
In any attempts which may be made to introduce a national system of in;'u^t:iVi
instruction, the failure of this in the mechanics' institutions must not be forgotten. It
was suspected that much koowleJgo would have been derived from the oboen-ati)n of
TForkmen. This has not been the case. "Why? The answer is simple: they have never
been taught to observe. The powers of observation require as large an ammint of tr.jialn^
for their development as any faculty of tho mind; and this teaching to obitrre has been
entirely forgotten. It appears to us that classes for cultivating habits of observativQ
might l>e made by far the most attractive features of an institution, and might lead t"
the establishment of local museums, which would be extensively useful. The several
members, grouping tliemselvcs according to their tastes, might collect a large amount <rf
useful information. To gather the flowers of every hedge-row, and the plants of hill 9T.i
valley, determine their locality and period of flowering, should be the task of one cla«; to
collect examples of the geology or mineralogy, the occu^iation of others; the farina of t*>*
district might fall to the hands of another section; and so on. Then ineteorolo;7<
archaeology, and statistics, would furnish exercises for many others of tho most intero»tic|:
kind. And having been trained in classes, which should meet and dctcrmioo all doubtful
points, the artizan would be prepared to notice and register facts, which, although coo*
fctantly occurring in his own daily vocation, have been as constantly passed nnooticed.
The Society of Arts, as far as their plans have been developed, contemplate the diris'or
of the country into unions, the institutions of each district appointing their centre, thl
central institute being in immediate communication with the great central committee o
the Society of Arts. The business of this metropolitan centre will be to register th
Dames of all approved lecturers, their subjects, and their terms. The institatioiit withJ
KRPORT8 OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT 80CIKTIKS.
469
jiy union luviiig UcUumined upon tlie number of lectures they require in any quarter of
be rear, selected tlieir Bubjects, and adjusted the order of these with the local centre, the
ecretary of the union communicates with the secretary of the Society of Arts, and he is
0 endeavour to a<ljust with the lecturers on their list that they set forth on their itincra-
ioD in such order that within a set time their mission of instruction shall bo peribrmcd
:othe 730 institutions in the kingdom. The only char;;e made to the institutions for
tliis toik of arran;:enient is two guineas per annum— the president of the institution
becoming a member of the Society of Arts. The promise to the institutions, as implied
Rather tliau expressed, was to provide them with lecturers of a superior class, and at a
cheaper rate than they arc now supplied with those of an inferior character. How this is
to be e;T< cted docs not appear. We find, upon careful inquiry, that the average price of
lectarti iit three guineas; some few of the in.stitulions i)ay five guineas, and several gen-
tlcmea of eminence refuse t« lecture under this sum; but wo find this is, even in their
tase, greatly reduced by the number of lectures. Thc*y made a free gift to institutions
anJer wme pressure of temporary difficulty.
That some improvement must bo made in the popular institutions of England is certain.
They have done much good, and the general diH'usion of useful knowledge, and the almost
QDiversal desire for improvement which is manifej>ted throughout the length and breadth
^ the land, are mainly due to mechanics' and literary institutions. — British QuafUi'hf
REPORTS OF MUTUAL LMPROVEMEN'T SOCIETIES.
ChfUfa Mutual Impnu'tmcnt So'Uty. — The
wt tnnuft] meetinir of tliis society was held in
w *cbuoli-oom of Mnrlborouph Cbaiiol, Marl-
^w«ich-s«jaarc, on Fmlay evcninK. October Hth.
Te» wa» provided, after which the biihine«ii of the
^tioff WM opened by the chairman, Mr. John
Cothbertion. After some introductory remarkii,
«»e chairman caUed upon the Hccretarv and trea-
"Ww to read their reports, which indicated tlmt
w wciety was in a prosperous condition, and
w*l there was erery probability of luture success.
Y* oifiorrs for the ensuin.(^ year were then
JJOw; tner which Mr. J. P. Scailiff, the pivsi-
*W of the society, in a brief but impressive
"Pivchi arced upon Uie audience the necessity of
"■'Dta] culture, and showed V.ie advantages that
IJJbU result therefrom. He remarketl that he
w> not place man's highest interest in a cultivatfd
oWleet alone, or chiefly. He believed tliat llie
'ttvait of seience or knowledge was really and
iRinrir advantageous only when associated with
^ hethlay moral and spiritual condition. He
iibM sqr to them. Be imiUitors of Christ— of Lis
DritjraiMl benevolence — of his holy aspirations
BillEiDdiT impuUes ; but next to this, which he
tiled God-like greatness, he would urge them to
< atUinment of hitelleetual givatness. With a
iod tba» diacipliued. the whole imtverse would
come an enlirely difiereut thing to uv; we
oaldfind
"Books in th« naming brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything."
\ir. W. Babbitts next addressed the meeting on
fbllovlMg sttljgo ** Science and religion ui e
kindled." Ho concluded a powerful speech with
the following remarks :—Chrifitianity nt^fds not
tht^ cover of darkness : it desires uc>t the dark
mantle of ignorance ; It welcomes Kcience and
liU'mture when subordinated to itself, and applietl
to tlie reali/alion of its own glorious purposes.
I cannot think how any bearing the name of
Christian.^ can fromi upon such institutions as
these. It has been said by one who could not
err, " Wifidom and knowledge shall 1>e the sta-
bility of thy times, and strength of salvation."
If w^e have had a Laplace, a Voltain;, a Boling-
broke, a (iibbon, and a Hume, who have tried to
undermine the faith of the Christian, and to set
at variance God in nature an<l God in thfi Bible,
have we not ali^o had a Newton, a Butler, a Chal-
mers, a Pye Smith, a Bucklund, and a Han-ison,
who have torn into shreds their miserable sophis-
tries, and shown that every dovtjloj^mcntof naturn
is a confirmation of llie niij^hty power, matehle»s
wisdom, Rud inllnite goodness, of the great God
of heaven and earth ?
Mr. H. Hay ward referred to tlie advantages
that had already accrued to the members from
their connexion with this society. He said : —
We have improved ourselves ; faculties thot
were dormant have been developed and brought
into exeruise. We have acquired much useful
information, and feel ourselves all the more
competent to discharge the duties that devolve
upon us as men and as Christians. He then
urged the young men present to avail themselves
of the advantages which this society oilers. Rise
al>ove (said he) the trifles which engage little
minds. Believe that you were born for sonwtliiug
470
KXrORTS OF SIUTUAL UimOVSaUUIT 80CIETIB8.
biirker and nobler than merely to chat, and laugh,
and »moke. Men «-bo are engroiued in these
triflea, like the botterflica of a summer's day, soon
pass away aud are forgotten. None e«n say they
are the better Tor their esistenoe. Let it not be so
with you. Watch passing events — ^Irace them to
their cauxes. Impress youiselves with the cha-
racter or the age in which you live ; and, as you
stand surrounded with its vast realities, nsk your-
Btflres what there is for yon to do. Qualify your-
selves for its performance, and set about it with
true earnestness of purpose.
Mr. D. Watson followed with an eloquent and
forcible address upon the freedom of thought and
expression. He remarked that, for most of the
blesAitigs which we enjoyed as a nation, we were
indebted to fieedom of thouf^t and expression.
Whrre there was not this freedom of thought and
expression there was des|iotism; where there was
despotism there was mental imbecility, and men
became unable either to appreciate * or pursue
truth. He implored them, if they would take
their place and do their duty in the stirring times
in whieh their lot was cast, to think, and speak,
and act like men. He would remind them of tlie
words of the poet: -
'* Yon may chain the eagle's wing,
No more on clouds lo soar ;
You may seal the mountain spring,
That it leap to light no more:
Sut the mind let none dare chain.
Better it cease to be ;
Borri not to serve, but reign-
God made it to be free !
" Then guard the gift dirhie,
Than gems of gold more rare ;
Keep watch o'er the sacred shrine —
No foe must enter there.
Oh. let not error blind,
For t>asBion rule o'er thee ;
Krep the freedom of the miud —
God made it to be free ! "
A vote of thanks to the chairman, and a few
conclutliitg remarks from that gentleman, termi-
nated the proceeding of the evening. — H. H.
WotioH -under -Edye Mutual Imnroremeni
Society. — This society, which meets during the
winter months only, has just entered on its second
session. It was established last winter with about
twenty members, since which time it has been
gradually increasing, and now ntunbers nearly
forty. The followmg aubjeets have been dis-
cussed : — ** Have the novels of Sir Walter Sooit a
beneficial tendency on the minds of the public ? "
' Was the execution of Charles the First justi-
ii ible ? " ** Was Oliver Cromwell a sincere man ?"
'Ought capital punishment to be abolished 7"
''Is there more pleasure in Uie pursuit than pos-
S3!i.4ion of a desired object?" ** Is capital or
labour tlie most valuable instrument of produc-
tion ?" with many oUiers equally important
The annual meeting of the members was held
iu tbe Town-hall on Tuesday, October 5th, when
' the Bev. J. T. Feaston tuok the ehair. Tb«
, report having been read, a vote of thauka was
j passed to Mr. J. K. White, the late acaetary, for
bis valuable services during the past year. The
following gentlemen were chosen the committev
for the ensuing ycw>-Mr. F. W. Fisher. accr«.
tar}-; Messrs. J. W. Chapman. J. Gawn, fL
Hodges, W. Perrin, Jun., and J. B. White.
I An intereating discussion took place in the
1 Town-hall on Tuesday, October 19, on the ques-
tion, ** Is the profession of atms eonducive to the
j well-being of a state ? '• Mr. F . W. Fisher opened
the debate in the negative, dwelling on the gi«at
evils attendant on the ** honourable profeasMm/*
such as ** the awful destruction of human life."
" the misery which our battles entails upon so
many families at home,'' ** the tremendous cost,
not only of actual war, but of supporting a stand,
ing aimy,' &c. &c. Mr. J. W. Chapman (the
opponent) replied with his usual eloquence. He
said, " that though tveiy one knew war to be a
very great evil, still he considered thai, just aa
the taking of nauseous medicines is necessary in
order to avert more serious consequences, ao war
is necessary to prevent greater evils, &c. Jcc"
There were, also, some very excellent remarks
made by Messrs. Gawn, Perrm. and White. The
quesdon, when put to the meeting at the close of
the discussion by Mr. J. Walker, the chairman tor
Uic evening, was decided in the affirmative by the
miljority of one.
Edinburgh Temperance Mutual Improvement
Asaoctat'un.— On die evening of Friday, the 8th
uf October, the members of this association held
their usual half-yearly soiree, when a large num-
ber of their frientb assembled wiUi them. After
tea Alexauder Frazer, president of the associa-
tion, opened the meeting, by delivering an excel-
lent address, in which he alluded to the benefits
deri\.-d from such associations, and when so
many such societies were arising in difl)erent parts
of the country, together with many other means
uf cultivating the inteUectnal aud moral cha-
racter of man. As the prosperity of the oountry
depends almost entirely on the rising generation,
it mu.4t afford deep feelings of happineas to evevy
well-« isher of the community to see aacli institu-
tions prospering so rapidly, although they have
not flourished to thatextent which Jhun their noble
object they might have expected; but. when the
pen was being raised so bi|^ above the sword.
and the press was issuing its powerftil mandates
throughout the length and breadth of the land.
he would caU upon yotmg men, while youth and
health were smiling upon them, to Join auoh
institutiona, and by so doing help forward the
chariot of intellectual progreas. Addresaea were
then delivered by three of the membera on the
following Bttbjecta, vis.:— "Peraooal and social
duUes," *• The age we live in." and *" eoemlity."
Intereating recittfions were given by several of
the raembeia. aud aooKa and choruses by a party
of the " Edinburgh Abstainen' Musical Aaaocaa-
•ion," who had kindly eoaaented to be preacnL —
W.
The more any one speaks of himself, tlie less he likes to hear another talked of. —
Lavater,
TIIK IN<.»riREr..
4ri
€Ilt ^nqnirrn
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
M. Srotch Law ('onreifanciiuj.— l'\y U) thin
tiiwnoaii»W4 r a|i|»<rar!i h* huvr liifti tiiyvii to ihu
'jii^lii'ii 111 •■ I.i-x." ri<riijiiiK N». W uf tlie " In-
■l«OTr."" 1 iMVsi-If have \n'*:u hciulitLMl liy Ouii-
Milnm; xh". " liuiuirfr," nnil I hhnitld wisli, it
l-o^fit-lf, 111 ito an 1 iiiive l-i-tMii tli.ne liy. I mily
fiptti i!i;ii I 'liil itut iitlviiiitt to answiT the <|iiis-
lion 01 -'L'X whi-ii i[ «us hrst ])iit, at thi ii I
^iiOul-UiAvt- ha<i fai ililiei uf n-fm>ni-i: uii thi- >ub-
jrctD:ui-:i ii:ure iituiu-njus Uinn I iiuw ]x^om-n!i.
"L-x ■ may possiMy hv aware that, lour or
fif* Ttir* a:;o, a wrii*» "'f statutes, whirh win-
lotTbiiuiYj lutti |i:irliuiiiri>l by th« tlirn Loiil A-l
vi)nii>, M'Nril], anil his Miccintsor, I^iilirilonl,
P^^Jhxl into law. by which Uif whuli* hvkI'mi nl
^eotih fciihil rtiiiviryaiiciiK; ua^ n-iiniiicliiil.
Vbilr till* prinviph « uf convey a lK'in^' ri'ii<aiiii •!
>intiiu<]ie<l. the f'lnHs wtrre, hy thi'iie slntui-
trtiiiy v..irTriii;<l aiiil siiii)>Iitii*il. 'J'lti-alti-r.i:, i*^
tbib i|]Vi<i«r<l wi^rv hailiil with ^atiKlU' ■ i>
ofrym»nil<#-r«»f the IcK*' l'r*>'''*'*i^'™ i' ^* ^^ ■
^iu<y iW !>aNsiiii; nl'ihrKe sliitulcs Uic -il-u-i ',-
tiv« oil r •uvi'yuiiciniir have iiBotM-'l. in i«
on the Dapu-rrrotyin*, oml the Knme auiu for that
on the luiji-r |inn-f»>t. bhonhi ,1. M. bi- iiu-Iincd
l".' leani the art (which i«» rather ex iKn>>i«t> turom-
nieno). yt)u may jrivr him uiy nnii.i; aui! aildrvsii,
anil I Nhall hi' ^hul to ausuer uny ijutsli^ius on
the hul.j.Tt.- A C.
I3;l. /li'u- to ( ulii'-atr thf /lafifn/Atfrnli-n.
"A SiU'lcut," ami others wh'» niay'he ilrj.iri»iin jif
rullivotinj^ the huhii -if alteJitinn, will iiinl that
this faoiilty, liki-iu. ■■...«, ;,•! oh s ami im|irove«
Jiv eXHnise. Il in .iS -r (wr any hi s.-iy t.'iDt they
laijm-i exert i!,ii i-.- 'trKy, !or e\iry rational
I'l-iiiK is *U'* ««■•' ; ]K>»er of uayntj; ex-
(■hi»-i*e a'lc'i
There !■;■ " «
tlii>.. *'"r ••: •
I iiijM '*! -lij
I »i ■ '■■
■ li-i V
hit vurv'.iiut i^r date. lIow«"V
ttetwi) prin--i|niT of theni--^
cwi»luit use \i\ evi-ry con -r . <■
iRDijv belli.; imblikh^, n
\.
l)'W ■..i.'J
,'•*■ r ■
■* Si', -r
■ ••1 J
fj .■ . ■
I'l:- . i
a i;-.v '
l*:j'
ft
II. .i: •■■?■ \
-.. i:.r.
* ■.!. : L-Uilal
■ h is aii\er-
' ;Mfi. Th.>
i''iii»isteil of tliiie
f-ined •'ll«rita»de
mth< Ihw. I rvier I-
Society ..fE .1.1 ■..
ivlicil Sir',
btttlf. I-
Cw.- .-.1
'•'"■-•i :-»i >».\h;
T:,',«j,rs :>,*. i;- /, ,»r t"' iih
Is.!-' .;. ., thr rivhL-i uf rtal im^jiertv), prin"
* tUi.;lhe ■econd, " MovcAhle lii^hth. jiri.e
S^UkiU.: the third, "Styles of Suiiiiuonsen,
^1 m tin* Court of Session," price XI lis. fid.
>W lut votiiioe limy be dispi!nNe<l with by one
*Im> w«k« to ^'ain a knowledge only of ci'nvev-
•*iBjf. Part 1, vol. i., of a new edition of the
''iniiiiical Sivle!4 " has already bun iissued, at
••priopof lii. till.
Mr. Dafl'v pluil i^, to 1;ike a dred rbm**- >iy
cImm. abfl fxjdain Uie W}id.l ni<^iiinrz and cfl'i-ct
•f<srh of the chiii^*' : while in the "Juridienl
■*?!«•" forra* of elauMfs are i^ivcii for aliu'*"!
**^ cuncei?ak1e variety of ei/cMiii»uinri-H. I
**> n«ll]r ref^iinmend ih« ubi)\f-iiaiiitHi work^ ;
*^I >peak Ifuiii experieri'-e nheii I say that
~*» llieni, tikeii by iheniiieh:^, a ei'ii:;n'tful
'•W'IflIpe ni-iy be aniuired of ilie iiunripleii
•' Scotcii couteyaut'ing.
A S. L. S. ScnsmiKKn.
Wl. P'tot'iffrapfiti. — In reply to ipn stiou l:il,I
^■th to iuffrm J. M. that he may find a gixi.l
'I'^ption of tlif apparHlus Pi'<iuin*d !or the prar-
^Wuf pbotuuraphy in the manuals publislird liy
[U opticians in Loimon; fur inntanre, T. and II.
';'ilUto. ;ftt. Irui)iotiiiK< T'lane ; KniKht aiiil Soiin.
t^Aler-lane, CLemp«ide; or almost any other re-
*pect«ble hotiyc. The price is ]». for (Jie manual
jtoaer ul paying; ex-
0 V. .•:*» intiTch's i,iiu.
1 diiri'iv of it ; :uid
•• ■ ly?. arv thr •■ause of the
.1*- ill "ii: .•'.s.u etuKmiiients
■«i .''.r I i" i.ii ■ .1. NitthinK
■'ill i:i-. .1 I'tu-oful and
.■»^" I ' u.h „r' r-i I'! .-.i-i ■nt»"iboi.kB
■ ■' . . I i' ■•■ .c ■ ■ ■ ■ I un- .some)
' ■•'■■' ' •.■:... inakr any
'■■ ■ ■ !•■ ■ I I.- .le I . 'He; fir in-
.'■'*■ '• " .1 . " jii .■ . ." i/r his .'niion^; or,
',.'■■" i»»i ■'■ o'l .') loii.iueucc with,
■;'"'■' »i. . »i ''•t.y-.'Ly" cunmin» an
'•■■' I'l: . i:iil« '\e matter, which
■ , .. ■ 1 ' ■ • ili'Toi '"ej«ti'«l. and
li ( •: (i-iHi! the .|( , o«iini:tu
i:».prt..-- . s. .. ■ :hi- in: ^^,'t^|.'' •restiu;?
loitun ■' • .'.• :■ ■ I*". liiiiMiw-i '"'•'liookbe
ailoptei ■i>i-ii*.Mi-> : is iniiniiely preferable to
.seiitiuii ■.: oi it> > . - •■ .»e), IlI it hv thorouf^hly
slu'lied ; . I :iLH.i. : « HL'aiu,aln:oHtrxcluxivi !y,
iiniil lli«- "'iJ i." -It ible that he liH-s Completely
inaMereii :t, and - mi-i aii^werany queslionH ]Mit
lu hi:n oulofiL .f 'I'^w he would sit down, ami,
, Miihoul lookin>; at i.hv book, write i>ui an absinut
oJ ilie e<intei.l"« — the aijriuuents ;jmi uiol #«•«.— ho
would tind all his faculties, e^prc ally those of a.-
tontion and nii-mory. fireatly fctrenKlhineil, nn.I
wiiuhl pel form any neces.'«arv menial ujifraiioii
willi uiuch ^i-i uii r eiL»e and M^our.
A TniviTT M.\x.
To anpiire a steady fixation f>f atii'ntion in of
va.Ht iiiipiiilance to evtrry Mud«-nt. Thin in not,
however, sn easy to be done a^. perhaps, niay bu
hnafrincd. It niu-«7 be acknowledfred that, hitherto,
no othrr way has In en di^M■over^d to kiep «>nr
thoui;ht!i close to iht-ir business but the endea-
\ourinK an mmh a.s we e:ui. ami, by fyequvut
attcniii>n and an]di''ation, 'jetiiiiK the habit of
attention and applicAtion. Now . in oph-r to irain
a ;freal«T farilitti of atlrnli'-n, your r«im'»«i»<jn-
di'ul, '* A Stmlenl,"' would di> well to observe iLo
lollowiii!.' rubs I:iii{ diiwn by Dr. Watts : —
I. Gi t a coikI likinj; to the study or kuowlcilge
you would ^lunsue.
'2. Sonut I iiirR make use of sensible thinprs, and
ror]K>real iina^fCit, for the illtistraiion of those
iii'tions which ai'emore abstraetrd and inteMcciual.
:). Aii]ily yourself to those iiliidie<>. .ind n'ad
tho.su aii!hors who draw out their .subjects into a
peipelual chain of eonnec'ed naviiiinpt.
4. Do not choose your constant ]dace of study
by tlie finery of the i>nii«pei:tJi, nr the iiio<»t \nrious
and entei-tuining •icencs of sensible tilings.
472
THE YOUXO STUDENT AND WRITEB*8 ASSISTANT.
5. Be not in too much haste lo come to the dis- •
civniiiotion of a difBcult or importaot point.
6. Have a care of indulging the mere sennual
passions and appetites of animal nature ; they are
cj-eat enemies to aUeintion. Yet this one excep- ]
lion must be admitted, vir., if wo can be so happy ,
AS to engage any passion of the soul on the side I
of the particulai" study which we are pursuing, it
may have a great influeuc© to fix the attention
m'M strongly to it. 1
7. It is, therefore, very useful to fix smd en^as:t:
tlie mind in the pursuit of any study, by a c<»»-
sid^rotion of the divine pleasures of truth c,n<l
knowledge, by a sense of our duty to God, by a
delight in the exercise of our inlelleotual facultic<i,
by tlie hopes of future servict) to our fellow-citn-
tures, and glorious advantage to ourselves, belli
in this word and that which in to oome.
The above rules will, I believe, supply the in-
formation required by *• A Student"— U. S. W.
'^Ijt ^:^u:ng Ituitnt ml iMrr's iassistiinL
MATHEMATICAL CLAss.
SOLUTIONS.— X.
Aritkme:.'" and Algebra.
Que$tion 36. Fii-st find '^jw many cows coul.
summer on the Held.
As H sheep : 6 cows : : 87 si
then, 31 .V cows + 1 9 cows =s.00 ^\ ^^ „ ^ ,
As 5 cows : 14 sheep : : 19 cows \ 53^ shee ,
then, 53* .sheep + 87 8heep = 140| shee. » ^e^""^'- \
bcr: and, As 9 cows : 7 horses : : SOt'.V V li i
horses. ^.
. 104 2704 2704 „ f>
or ij* — ^- y + -„- = ;v — 35=
/ - 49 40
52 3 ,6
4'J
:3H\cows;
the number :
and XB
104-11 V
3
7'
or 7
104-11 X 72 , ^
— 3 -='^7'
or=
104-11 x/
3
•sQ.—Ant.
V.I>.
Geometry.
QuciUon 37. Letx=uo. of pounds at 89. , ' ^ .
V=no. of pounds at 4». Go. • '
then, ar+t/=112 ...(«)) , ouestion
.and8.ir:fHy=5xll2 } T q«csUon.
8x+.
330
3] y=330
.-. y as -^=90 lb. at 49. 6d. ;
and x=113-y=112~96=161b. at 83.
F.J.L.
Question 38. Let r be the interest of £1 for 1
vear. Then the amount at the end of I year i:^
1 + r ; and, since £1 produces 1 + f, 1 + r will pro-
duce (l+r)» for 1 ; l+r : : 1+r : (l+r)"
.-. The amount at the end of 2 years is (l + r")",
and at Uie end of n years (l + r)" : and .*. lor
i;700,X700 (l + r) " ; b ul Ih i s per question =X' 1,400.
.-. (l + r)" = 2
lOK 2
.*. n=T
ai
•v-
u*
- 1
»n;
log M14,
which is found by the tables=17,G73, &o., the
number of years. - . „ . ^
Note. Hcnoe it appears that any sum. at 4 per space and ume generally expressed by
cent compound interest, will double Jtsclfinlhe 1 ^•~**o^i'^'«
and '7854 >^;06S(J, area of tlie stone ;
^•0086— lOtvJSsa-'lSftJS, area of waste ;
6-87-2.'» j?225, area of part use«I.
Then, —o— ='*■■—
,d7068r3^_2lp075=4.77785Ik-««<l ^^ A ;
: ■ /4:77765_ ^6 diameter whcS^^^^-"^'-''
. Ihen,.— ;".=137*4;y -"■ '■ ' ^
.-. 4-777^5- l-n;415=»3--xJ34, area w. «n ^ hcg''^- '-
.'. \/ ,..jj». =2 09, diameter when C began ;
G'8722'>
then, — - — ss*9817.5, part used by C.
.-. 3-4a34--9817o=2-421C3, area when D began;
.-. \/ =1-75, diameter when D began.
R. M., St. C.
Jleehankct,
Question 17.
Depth of mine in feets 140x6=810;
same time. J* C. M'C.
Que$tion.iO. 3x+lly:^104 (I)
3x» + llv'' = 782 (2)
square (1) 9x"=(104-lly)» (3)
multiply (2) by 3 : 9x« = 214d-33y> (4)
.-. 21)40-33 y« = (104-llv»
= 10S16_2-2^W v + 121 v» ;
or 15i//«-:<2dSy = -8470;
I
and t=s ^^52-2s=7-2 seconds.
[ Question 18. The time a body will take ?o fnTI
I I'^O foot is found, by the method adopted in the
prccciUng example, to be 3';M5 secomls.
.'. Dislauoe=200 X 3-345=660 fert
J. B. S. K.
J. Jc W. RxDKn, Printers, 14, Bartholomew Close, London.
THE BBITISH
CONTROVERSIALIST,
AND
IMPARTIAL INQUIRER :
ESTABLfSBED FOB THE POBPOSE OF FORMING A STJTTABLE MEDIUM FOB TUB
DELIBERATE DISCUSSION OF IMrORTAMT QUESTIONS IN
KELIGION, PHILOSOPHY, HISTOEY, POLITICS, SOCIAL
ECONOMY, ETC.
"MAOKA KST TERITAS, ET PJLBVALF.DIT."
" Truth only needs to be for once spoke out ;
And there's such music in her, such Atrange rbythni,
As make men's memories her joyous Hlaves,
And cling around tlie soul, as the sky clings
Itound ihe mute earth fur ever beautiful." — Anon.
-Tbouf^ all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the eartli, so Truth be in (he
fidd, wedo injurionaly to donbt her strength. Let her an>l Falj»ebood grapple .' Wlio ever knew
TruUi p*U to the wwse, in a/rre and open encounter ?" —Afi/fon.
VOLUME lY.
LONDO:^:
PUBLISHED BY HOULSTON AND STONEMAN,
65, PATERNOSTER ROW.
1853.
n,B.irtholwncw Close.
PREFACE.
Not more welcome is the eTening twilight to the wearied tiller of the soil, than is the near
approach of the cloee of another year to manj a writer for periodical literatoie. But this
aimilaritj of feeling 6ow8 from difoent soorcee; for while one anticipates with pleasure
the dooe of the day that he maj enjoy the sweets of repose, the other desires the close of
the year that he may mark the progress of his work, complete one part of it, and address
himself, with increased experience and renewed Tigonr, to that which still remains. If it
is thus under ordinazy ciranmstanoes, with mnch greater reason is it when he who has
directed the ** thought-tracing quill" has done so with a frame shaken by sickness, or a
brain busied with care. The corps editorial, like their fellow-mortals, are subject to the
varied ricissitudes of life, and liable to all the " ills that flesh is heir to;** but these the
nature of their prefession necessitates them to bear in solitude, and endure unknown to their
readers. These thoughts, with their somewhat sombre hue, hare arisen in our nunds while
recalling the circumstances by which we were surrounded during the preparation of a
portion of our present Volume; and we could not, in justice to our feelings and position,
have withheld this reference to them. But the foregoing words will suffice on this subject ;
for we can speak in the past tense of all that is personally painful, and do now rejoice that
thnugh it we were able to hold on our course, to discharge our duties, and to prepare a
Volume which, we belieye, will .be found to be no unworthy companion of its predecessors.
There is not much, perhaps, in the present Volume that in its distinctiveness requires
special notice. Again have we brought questions of deep and enduring interest before the
attention of our readen; and again have we been gratified with the earnest spirit in which
their discussion has been carried on. If there has been any fault here, it has been in
this earnestness occasionally developing the tendency to introduce a little of that per-
sonality the absence of which is so desirable in the prosecution of all important inquiries.
Some of our contributora certainly appear not only to have
'* Felt their strength, but made it felt;
They might hare used it better, but allured
Bjr their Aill rigour, atemlj have they dealt
On one another.'*
We have referred to this subject here, because we are anxious to check even a budding
evil; and because, in endeavopring to do so, we are supplying the best possible answer
to an objection to our work which has been made by some would-be-thought wise
ones, namely — that the opposing articles which appear in our pages are not tiie bond fide
contributions of different individuals, but the varied productions of the same pen. Xow,
however complimentary such an opinion is to the versatility of our own talents, we are
anxious to correct it, because it is not true, and because its wide belief would greatly
weaken our influence for good. The writera in our pages, so far as we know them, are
men who have formed intelligent opinions on the subjects they discuss ; and in stating the
reasons which have led them to arrive at those opinions, and the arguments by which they
consider them supported, they are assisting us to perform a great public serrice, and are
)ielping on the glorious cause of truth. The amount of silent influence which our united
laboan are exerting it is not for us to estimate; but we have the means of knowing that
it is wide-spread, powerful, and beneficial. It has been well said that ** The detection of
an error — the dissipation of a doubt — ^the extirpation of a prejudice — the establishment of
17 PBKFAGBi
a fact— the dedaction of a new ioferenee— the development of a latent principle— may
diffuse ita beneficial cooaeqnenoes orer ereiy region of the world, and maj be the means of
lessening the miaerj or increasing the happiness of myriads of nnbom generations. The
great interests of the hnman race, then, demand that the waj of diseoteiy ahoold be open
—that there shonld be no obstmetions to inquiry — that ereiy poarible flicilitj and encou-
ragement shonld be afforded to efforts addressed to the detection of error, and to the
attainment of tmth; naj, that erery hnman being, as far as he is capable, shonld actiTel/
assbt in the pnrsnit* To afford new fadlities for this was the original object of the
Editors of this Mkgaxine, an object which thej have not failed steadil/ to keep before them
during their four yean of literary serritude.
In addition to the pnxsuit of this object, and in connexion with it, we hate endearonred,
with increased interest and enlarged means, to assist onr readers in the work of moital
improTement and self-edncation. This we hare done not merely by giving general precepts^
bnt by famishing individoal counsels and improving exercises. To our yarioos class
operations we cannot bnt refer with pleasure, for though they have entailed upon us an
amount of labour but very inadequately indicated in our monthly records of progress, we
hare in it all enjoyed the consciousness of carrying on a great and good work, and been
cheered by the unmistakeable- evidences given by our students of increasing knowledge
and growing power.
With regard to the measure of outward success which has attended onr labours during
the past year, we shall be expected to say a few words; and we can do so now, as oa
former occasions, with a considerable amount of satisfaction, for though the circulation
of our magazine has not equalled our expectations, we have found much encouragement
in the flattering notices of our critics, and the gratifying expressions of our readers. "With
the former the public are familiar; and that an adequate idea may be obtained of the
character and valne of the latter, we may be permitted here to give an extract from a
letter recently received from a distinguished professor at one of our ancient seats of learn-
ing. He says: " By this publication I consider you are doing a most important service in
the work of mental education; and you have my most ainoare wishes for the increased
snectes of your well-directed labours." Such an unsolicited testimonial aa this from aach
a man is indeed gratifying and stimulative. Surely none oould have earned, as we have,
the confidence and approval of thooghtfol men of all dassca, sects, and parties, without
feeling, as we do, the honour of the position, and its responsibilities too.
Bnt there is a futnie before us, and for that we must prepare: we hope to bring to the
performance of onr duties in it not only enlarged experience, but augmented seal. We
should be traitorous to the past, with its suggestive lessons, were we not to do this. We
confess that we have nol realised oar ideal, either in our work or in itsdreulation; but
while we strive to do it in the one, we must trust to our readers to aid us to attain it in the
other. They have ever b^en ready to render us their co-operation; and now we solicit
it once again. We are aware that our progress is opposed by many fiies, under such forms
as ignorance, prqudiea, and party spirit; bat we shall count them only as vanquished ones,
if all our firionda will but join hands in a cordial oonfederation, and—
~ Not bate a joi
Of heart or hope ; but still beer vp end steer
BlOBTORWABUS!**
INDEX.
"°«orar,-
OHfht ibc Oiul ta MBTDoaOi u bt W
VI
X2IDEX.
PAOB
POLITICS >-(Contina6d.)
NcfiBtlre Article, 3 S57
AiBrmative Aitiele, 3 263
Negative Reply 305
AfflrmatiTe Beply 310
Oagbt the Lair of Primogenitore to be
Bepeeledr
Affirmative Article, 1 383
Negative Artiole, 1 /-dSS
Affirmative Article, 2 428
Negative Article, 2 431
Afnrmalive Reply 450
Negative Reply 458
SOCIAL ECONOMY:—
Is the Uae of Oaths for Civil Purposes
Bight aad Expedient t
Negative Article, 1 104
Affirmative Article, 1 197
Negative Article, 2 224
Affirmative Artiole, 2 296
Negative Article, 3 266
Affirmative Article, 3 268
Negative Reply 340
Affirmative Rq[>ly 342
Ought Transportation to be Abolidied ?
Affirmative Article, 1 344
Negative Article, 1 347
Affirmative Article, 9 388
Negative Artiole, 8 303
AfflrmaUve Reply 464
Negative Reply 468
SOCIETIES* SECTION:—
Books and Reading 66
Means of Mental Improvement 64
Poetry— What is it? 150
Studies for Law Students 340
The Right Use of Books 312
BcpoKTs ow Mutual Impsotkmsvt
Societies :—
Airdrie Tonng Men's Society 73
Altrinchani Zetetie Society 220
Alresford Mutual Improvement Society . . 434
Auehterarder Toung Men's Mutual Im-
provement Society 116
Birmingham Debating Society 153
„ Wesleyan Chapel Mutual
Improvement Society 38
Bromley Toung Mens Mutual Improve-
ment Society , 156
Chalmers Society 30
Cheltenham Mutual Improvement Society
. 6i5, :)52
Chertsey Mutual Improvement Society ..116
Colchester Mechanics' Institute 230
Dowlas Mutual Improvement Society 358
Dundee Literarj Societies' Union 30. 352
Edinburgh Albion Mutual Improvement
Sooiety 351
„ Controversialist Society 72
„ Temperance Mutual Improve-
ment Society 231
„ Tuunir Men's Liteiwy Union,931,351
., Young Men's Association . . 71, 434
Frogroore Young Men's Literary Society. . 165
PAOB
SOCIETIES* SECTION :-<Continued.]
Glasgow— The Clyde Literary Society .... 156
„ Zetatic Society 78
Hebden Bridge Mutual Improvement So-
ciety 70
Hull Mutual Improvement Association . . 435
Inverness Young Men's Mutual Improve-
ment Association 352
Kilmarnock Young Men's Biblical Assoda*
tion 29
Kirkintilloch Young Men*s Mutual Im-
provement Sooiety 272
London Mutual Improvement Society, St
PauFs-square 116
Madras Young Men's Literary Society 32
Manchester— All Saints Mutual Improve-
ment Society 231
„ Elm-street Mutual Improve-
ment Sooiety 229
Merion Literary Society 33
Milgavie Me<dianics' Institute 73
Mold Mutual Improvement Society 435
Monkton Young Men's Literarv Society, 71, 155
Neophyte Writers' Society ...* 69
Newcastle-upon-Tyne Discussion Society . 154
Newport Young Men's Society 155
Paisley Artiaans' Institution 87S
„ Young Men's Debating Society . . 73
Fontefract Mechanics' Institution 30
Preston Mutual Improvement Society 435
Runcorn Mutual Improvement Society . . 31
Sheffield Wesleyan Mutual Improvement
Institution 70
Skipton Young Men's Mutual Imi»ove-
ment Sooiety , 70
Stockport— Essay and Elocution Class 353
„ Young Men's Mutual Improve-
ment Society 71
Sunderland Polemical Society 353
Waltbamstow Mutual Improvement So-
ciety 353
Wigan Discussion Society 351
Wolverhampton Mutual Improvement So-
ciety 229
THE INQUIRER :—
Qnestions Requiring Answers: -33, 73, 117,
156,238,873,315,353,304,435.
Answers to QnestioBs :—
A Camera Obscura : 354
A good Law Book 119
Alford's Greek Testament 335
Andent Languages 358
Arabic Orthography 316
A Student's Library 75, 315, 354
Bomilear.OxofMeloarth 473
Buildinff Sodeties 4^
Cause or Mist and Fog 117
Convenation 473
Decomposition of Water 34
Foreign Exchanges 396
How to Hannonize Colours .120
How to make a Cheap Telescope 74
How to obtain Ease and Power in Debate
157, 232, 275
How to study the Poets 473
Logically True and Practically False
76, 118, 273
Manuscript Magazine f 239
Mathematical Studies 358
niDEX.
▼U
PAOK
THE I.VQUIBEK>-(Continued.)
MoDmoatlMhirB not in Wales 33. 74
KaUm of the Son's Bod J 277,435
OHer of Stadying the Sciences 316
P»«phnMorMilUn 359,397
S>«M)aMMoriigfat 390
RniofWMdo Paper 354
SmufUif Solid Bulk of the Earth 77
Solotbn oftt Oeographical Problem. . 238, 277
Spioou's PhiloMphic System 356
JCixiie* for the Scotch Bar 355
The Ancient Britons 472
TheConatnution of an Ellipsis 354
JwHiMory of Sunday Schools 156
TheUwtofHeat 354
Jje Three most Rising Pocu 34
The Podulura Experiment 350
JheCnitersiUes 437
Tvo American Orators 310
Whjr Lord Palmerston does not sit in the
Bouse of Lords 119
Worits for Drapers 437
n on Astrology 234
• oDLaw 234
THE TOUNO STUDENT & WRTTEB'S
ASSISTANT:—
loaic Class:— Exercises on the "Art of
KeasMOog." 38, 78, 120, 156, 199, 238, 278, 317,
359.397,438.
Gbammab Class :— Exercises in Gnun-
■lar, 30, 78, 120, 108, 198, 238, 278, 317, 359,
MoDRL EXE&ciSEs:— 150, 198,239,279,217,
359.398,438.
Mathematical Class: — Questions for
Solufion, 38, 78, 160, 200, 240, 280, 318, 360,
400 430
8olutious,'37, IGO, 109,839, 270,318, 300, 390, 438
PAOS
NOTICES OF BOOKS >-
A Dictionary of the French and English
Languages 40
An Ouilhie of the Laws of Thought 440
Aristotle's Organon 440
A Story of a Family Party 40
Autobiography of William Jerdan 79
Bacon's Novum Organura 440
Cassell'sEdiaon of Euclid 40
Christianity and Secularism 240
Comte's Philosophy 440
Dictionary of the English Language 40
Elements of Psychology 430
Elocutionary Manual 40
Fireside Harmony 40
Greek and Roman PhUosophy 499
History of the Sunday School Union 439
Holyoake Refuted 990
Home Thoughts 400
Juvenile Alias 320
Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin 3S0
Meditations of Descartes 440
Midland's Historr of the Crusades 40
Moral and Metaphysical Philosophy 430
Museum of Classical Antiquities 400
Phonographic Examiner 430
Poems by Alexander Smith 310
Religion and Education 280
Smith's Theory of Moral SentimenU 440
Table Turning and Table Talking 330
The Art of Reasoning 440
The Elemenu of Euclid 40
The New Quarterly Review 80
The Pilgrim's Progress 400
The Sexuality of Nature 300
The Social Position of Book-keepers and
Clerks 39
The Yot4t« ful Thinker 80
The Tenth's Magaxine 400
Wellington and Uie Pulpit 330
vtti
CONTRIBUTORS' SIGNATURES.
VAOB
A.C 896
Annette 29S
ABti-Zeno 275
A Quondam Student 437
Aristides S5,e0, 145
A. 8 150
Benjamin 375
B. S., no, 158, 824, S36, 277, S99»337, 308,4(0,468
B.W. P 10,34,170,428
C.E 108,314
Cosmopolite 63,07,423
C.W.,Jun. 58,152,351
Dromo 55
JK« mJ • •••••••«••■«••••••••«••«•« 3WOy 2Rlr y vKJX
Jmm Oaal*********************************** fO
Xtm 9* Jt • ••••*•••••••••••••«•••••■•••«••• Ov*
Xtna 157
E.W. S 100,342,340,452
Bxcdrior 337
F.J. S 76,78,102,236,288,354,355
F. S.,MJk 437
F.T.A. 34
G. H 120
Glowr 50, 256, 410
O.W.W 16,04. 175
Harold 10, 132
H.B 383
H. J. R 77
H. P.. «f
Irene 19,188,431
J. A. C IS
J. B 357
J.B.M'C 316,351
J. C. M*C.,Jan 83,194,311
J.F 91,271
J. F.. Birmingham 290, 331
J.G.B 107,112,180,210,20
J.M.P 9m
J. M. 8 340,471
J.W.W 371
L'Onvrier, 20, 100, 116, 184, 2M, dU6, 395,414, 496
G.M .^ 91
^\aXn$nt- 3M
ItoUa 75,110,102,234,310,389.438
S.A.J 56
Saxon 378
Sigma U9
Stanislaus 148
Theophiloa SST
T.U.,Edimburgk 306,434
T. W a
Walter 278,355
W. G. S.H .365
W. H.T 490
X m
Page 221, col. 2. line
Pa^e222, col. l,line
Page 222, coL 2, line
Page 31(4, col. ],line
Page 411, note, for*'
Page 4 12, coL 2, line
EBBATA.
1 1, for " enimiei," read, inimici.
42, for "fills,' read, Irets.
10, for " Uu^roun ^re," read, Gu^ronniere.
47, for " emigration," read, transportation.
ilfise/ma," read, Mischna,
18, for j)Mfen«on," TttAf pitteusoti.
THE BRITISH CONTROVERSIALIST.
Hjlftnrit.
BT THE AITTIIOR OF '^THE ART OF REASOKISTO.'*
No. XIIL— THE IMAGINATIVE FACULTY.
''Tims is like a ship that never anchors." " Dum loquimurj fugerit invida aku.^*
old jear has " gone to his death-hed,** and is mingled with the tmrecallabU. Now is
tkm tiina for serious FeflecUon — for taking coonsel with our own sools. Have we remem*
tend that
^ ** While we give the unguarded hoar
To wine and revelry in Pleasure's bower,
The noiseleM foot of Time stealfl swiftly by.
And ere we dream of manhood, age is nigh ? " f
HiiVt we reflected with due care upon the great truth, that
** Time is eternity.
Pregnant with all that makes archangels smile,"
«r an thai is rainoos to human souls? Solemn eonsideration ! May we resolve wisely
' vigaidnig the commg time^ and act worthily in it ! Be ours the motto inscribed on the
tomtMtoiie at St Gilgen: — "Look not moumfullj into the past: it comes not back.
Wisely improve the present : it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without
Uat, and with a manlj heart"
" Labour, then,
Fellow men ;
Up, brave hearts, try again !
Oors is no struggle for might or domain;
Ours no ignoble strife ;—
Aiming at jmnr l^e.
Front we all hardships, all trial, all pain.* '
Hath Boi the port tpokan a solemn truth, to which all earnest men should listen, when he
tuca tbm wordaf^
** Say, why was man so eminently nused
Ahove the vast oreation ; wby ordained
* ** Bveii while we converse envious age hastens on."
i M Doai Mbimos, dum seita, unguenta, puellas
JtaetiaiQfl, obr^it nou inlellecta senwtus."— /wt-naf, Satire 0.
RRKTORTC. — 3CO. XIII.
Through life and lieath to dart his piercing eye.
With thought* beyond tlie limits of his frame ;
But that the Omnipotent mit^ht send him forth
In sight of mortal and immortal powers,
As on a boundless tlieatre, to run
The great career of justice — to exalt
His generous aim to all diviner deeds —
To chase each partial purpose from his breast —
And through the tossing tide of chance and pain
To hold his course unfaltering ; while the voice
Of truth and virtue up the steep ascent
Of nature calls him to his high reward —
The applauding smile of heaven ? "
Maj we 80 labour tbat this reward maj be ours! May we, with Horace, be able to
" Quid verum aUiue decens euro et rogo, et oronis in boo sum :
Condo et compono quas mox depromere possim.
Ac ne forte rogea, quo me duce, quo lare tuter ;
Nullius addictua jurare in verba magistrL" — Epis. i. 11 — 14.*
Let HB engage in the search after wisdom and Tirtne with oar whole souls earnest!
strive to live up to the grand ideal of human life. l^Iaj we avoid
" The roomlit revel and the ahameleaa mate—
The tabled hues of darkness and of blood—
The published bosom and the crowning smile —
The cup excessive ; and if aught there be
More vain than these and wanton,"
and carefuUj train ourselves in the belief
" That there is nought on earth worth being known.
Save God and our own souls."
As a means of furthering this wise and moral mind-culture, we purpose devot
present paper to a consideration of the nature, powers, and pleasures, of ** the ima£
faculty."
We believe tbat the present season is appropriate to the discussion of this topic, 1
we think that it is possible to prove that the imaginative facuhy b able to supply the
and most refined gratification which the human soul is susceptible of enjoying—ti
pleasure which it is able to communicate as far transcends those deriTable from **
desires, delights, and loves,*" as the appearance of a sister newly Terging into won
surpasses in loveliness a " dry, ungainly skeleton." It is not often we indulge in i
homilies or assume the voice of the preacher; but we could not banish these tl
from our mind as we sat reflecting on the topic now to occupy our attention, and thej
themselves into utterance. May reader and writer be ftilly impressed with the soleo
* The above passage may be tlius translated :— " I study and inquire what is trme end «m
am wholly engaged in this ; I lay up and collect rules which I am alWmaitla ible to act up
lest, perchance, yon should ask me under what leader, or into what a^ool, I hav« tnte
papi), I answer, I am inclined to resign myself implicitly to tiM aayiiifs of no
BHsroRia — iro. znz. 3
sach thoughts — thoughts which should be reenxrent at seasons like this, when a new
biiDch is sdded to onr *' tree of life."
In the immediately preceding pspers of this series we have tr^ed of the most im-
portant of those laws which are applicable to everj species of composition. Sach evidence
as seemed to as to prove that thonght and speech are correlates have been presented to
you; the neceasitj of acquiring dexterity in the accnrate use of langoage has been advo-
catad; the laws which ooght to regulate oar efforts at thonght-expression have been laid
down and iUnstrated; and the means by which ezactitnde and harmony of diction hare
been, so far as in ns lay, consistently with the space at our disposal, demonstrated to be
not only reasonable, bat practicaUe. We are desirons now of entering into the considera-
tion of those departments of Bhetorical study which concern themselves with the higher
deTelopmcnts of thought, viz., those which relate to "the poetic faculty in man."
The extenial oniverse has been created " all beauty to the eye and music to the ear,**
''and truly a Tolume of nature it is, whose author and writer is God. To read it! Dost
thou, does man, so much as well know the alphabet thereof, with its words, sentences,
and gnmd descriptive pages, poetical and philosophical, spread ont through solar systems
and thousands of years? " And yet to read this book is a necessity of our nature. Oar
present state of being is educative ; and the meaning contained in " the thick-crowded,
inextricably-intertwisted hieroglyphic writings" which appear around us, it is our business
to discover. Reason and Imagination are the two eyes which we employ in these investi-
gations. Poetry is the result of the conjoined operation of the Imagination and the
Emotions; Science is the product of the combined labours of the Imagination and the
Intellect. Poetry, in its highest development, is the synthesis of the good, the true, and
the beautiful; Science concerns itself solely with the true. Science is the realization of
natare; Poetry the ideafization of it. The Imagination is "ever the mother of deep
truth.'' The world is emblematic, and the human soul is so constituted that it yearns to
discover the analogies which subsist between the spiritual and the material.
** In nature's framt; the great Artificer portrays
His own immense idea ; "
and the grand problem given to the mentality is, from the data of sensation to discover
the laws of being and destiny. Sensations are the known quantities through which the
nuod, by a pecoUar ctdeidus of its own, endeavours to acquire a knowledge of those all-
important topics. Man is primarily a sensuous being, but he cannot long continue so.
Sensatims are only the nutriment of thought. It is Imagination which sheds upon the
sensuous that "heavenly alchemy'* by which it becomes the glory -hued symbolism of
spiritual truth. This is the power by which we are enabled to turn
" The suimy aide of thinga to human eye*."
It ''extracts and concentrates, as it were, ]ife*s ethereal easence, arrests and condenses its
volatile fragrance, brmgs together its scattered beauties, and prolongs its ^ore refined but
evanescent joys;" while on the external world, and the objectivities of which it is com*
pwed, it throws
** The gleam^
The light that never was on land or shore —
The {Deration and the poet's dream."
RHKTORic.-— sro. xm.
To anaXjze the operatiooB of the imaginAtion is a work of considerable diflkolty, nor dt
we flatter oorselves that we are capable of overcoming it; bat great ends are oolj atUinM
bjr being greatly daring. That power which
" Adds a predous seeing to the eye/*
and is the birth-soorce of those delight-giving aspirations which develop themselves aU>
the sister graces of the soul — Poetrj, Painting, and Music — ^has not heretofore bes
demarcated with sufficient philosophic accoracj from other though kindred inei^
faculties. The word Imagination is employed to signify — 1st That capacity of thi
intellect which calls before it any of those sensations which may at any time htn
impinged the sensorium and passed into the perceptual treasury; <*. e., instead of ooooep-
tion, or voluntary memory. 2nd. The power of conjoining fantastic notions capaUt of
stirring and exciting the mind — Fancy harlequinading in the dress of Wit. drd. Faccj-
who is only the younger sister of Imagination —
" A violet in the youth of primy Nature;
Forward, not permanent — sweet, not laHting ;
The perfaroe and suppliance of a minute :
No more."
4th (and accurately). The faculty from which all poetry proceeds— that marvelloQS ooo-
j unction of perceptive acuteness, liveliness of memory, correctness of judgment, pnritj of
taste, and readiness of abstraction and generalization, which enables man to cull tlie
fairest portions of individual and separate existences — to blend these together and collig*^
their various parts into new wholes more accordant with the ideal of perfection wlucb
arises in the mind on the contemplation of those differing objects. Imagination luu beea
truly and accurately described as " a complex power." It includes in its significatioo an
exquisite nicety of sensational activity, to conv^ to the perceptivity a critically cxirt
repr^entation of tAe without — a jnst and delicate extension of the capacity of perceptioo—
a ready, powerful, comprehensive, and accurate memory, that the objects of percepti*
may be promptly placed at the 8er\'ice of an equally-balanced and energetically-icti9(
judgment — a judiciously-selective taste, precise in its notions of qualities and circoiB-
stances — well-practised powers of abstraction, and a capacity of combining all tb**
together with skill, carefully appropriated and adapted to the emotional excitement wfaiA
agitates the mind. Thus it will be seen that " we do not merely perceive objects, ti^
conceive or remember them simply as they were; but we have the power of ooailtfiiC
them in various new assemblages — of forming at our will, with a sort of delegated oaB*
potence, not a single universe merely, but a new and varied universe with every juiumiM
of our thoughts. The maieriah out of which we form them exist in every mind, but ^
exist only as the stones exist, shapeless in the quarry, that require little more tktt
mechanical labour to erect them into common dwellings, but that rise into paUMatf^
temples only at the conmiand of genius."*
The most glowing and beatific idealisms with which poetry surprises sod dcG^rts H
• " Brown's ?Vii\o%c(pV^ ol\ixtIV>aaixwi"»\TA;'\«\.'jiSau
BRBTORIO.— -90. XIII.
are oaJj the refinemenU which oor own minds have been able to make npon the world
withoat Imagination la a purifying and exalting power.
** Thought and tffliction, pasrion, hell itself,
She XuroM to tkwoar and to loveliness."
'' Fancy,** says Wordsworth, " is giyen to qnicken and begnile the temporal part of our
natorei Imagination to incite and support the eternal." Though the daughter of Sensa-
tion and Memory — a humble parentage indeed — Imagination has had a numerous and
honourable offspring. She is the mother of Genius, Hope, Love, Poetry, Music, Sculpture,
Painting, and every other possible embodiment or revelation of " the good, the beautiful,
and the tm^"
The rarest fancies by which poets strive to witch the world derive their primal elements
frtxn the sensnons nature of man, and are constructed out of the raw material received
mto the mind through the senses, and laid up in Memory's
" Immortal shrine,
Where they for ever tmcorrupted dwell."
Bat tie tmuibie is ever transitory and evanescent; sensations appear for a little moment
only, and then pass away — it may be for ever — from the perceptive powers, and yet the
mind possesses the capacity of treasuring even its slightest sensation, and weaving it into
the web of its own thoughts, and Imagination bestows upon it the immortalization of
beauty.
" Doobtless this could not be, but that she turns
Bodies to spiril by sublimation strange ;
As Are ooaverts to fire the things it bums.
As we our food into our nature change.
From their gross matter she abstracts the forms.
And draws a kind of quintestence ftom things
Which to her proper nature she transforms.
To bear them light on her celestial wings.
Thus doth she when, from individual ttates.
She doth abstract the universal kinds,
Which when re-elothed in diverse names and/atrSy
Steal aeeets through our senses to our minds."
It may seem strange to many of our readers, that while a herd of authorlings are bewailing
the antagonism of Poetry and Science, that we should have endeavoured to maintain their
near rehitionship, and to predicate that they are not enemies but kindred. Yet we doubt not
but that those who pursue the thoughts suggested to them in the present paper will agree with
Tu upon this point To show that there is a self-consistent coherency in our views, although
perfectly unpremeditated by us, we may be permitted to refer to our article on " The In-
vestigation and Discovery of Truth,*^ as an illustration of the opinion herein inmsted on. It is
therem proven, that in order to discover truth the mind " subpones or underlays an hypothesis
or Miagrmary explanation of the causes which superinduce any given series of phenomenal
losnifestattons;*' that ** thus the understanding gives them a wpporitUiout oneness," and
a caution is given not "to neglect that 'magic light' with which the soul illumines nature."
• " Art of Seasoning, No. XL," Vol. II. page 81.
6 BHETOBIC— HO. XIU.
It is therein asaerted, thmt "Hypotfaesii atrlTcs to ckasifjr the rarolti of ObMmUion under
some general (tupposUitiout^ law; when this law b postnbted, sjstematiaed obsernitifln —
i.e,f Induction— is called into action, to oompan the resnlts which wonld flow from this
(imaginary) law with the actual processes of Nature. If these agree, the Hjpotheais is
correct, and becomes Theory — t.e., the means bj which the mind maj contemplatirelj
survey any series of facts, and from the laws discovered as ruling amongst these, can
deduce new facts or infer new truths.*' Imagination ia the primordial element alike in
Science and in Poetry, and upon this ground we disagree with the dietum of that mighty
metaphysical mind— Coleridge — ^when he asserts that "Poefr^r is not the proper anthesisto
Prose, but to Sckfice.** They are but parts of one great series of progressive thought —
Science gaining a knowledge of mere truth, Taste discovering the hidden harmonjf and
beauty of the co-linked elements with which Sdenoe has been dealing, the Emotional
faculties perceiving their connexion with the good, and Poetry fuadng all these together
by the intense heat of the Imagination. Hence it is that the harmonious co-working of
all the human faculties is required to constitute a great poet Hence it is that the
great poet has won for himself the admiration of all men; for, in so far as he is really and
truly a poet, he is the nearest approach to a perfect man* Who can be more perfeet than
he to whom the mighty realms of truth, beauty, and goodness, are given as a perpetual
inheritance, and who is oontinnally permeated with the inflnenoes which proceed thence?
Is cot tins what Tennyson means, when he says of " The Poet" —
** He saw through life and death, thron|^ good and ill-
He »aw through his own soul.
The marvel of the everlastiDg will
An open scroll
Before him lay : with echoing feet he threaded
The seerei'st walks of Aume ;
The viewless arrows of his thoughts were headed.
And winged with flame.
• • * * *
" Thus truth was multiplied on truth, the world
Like one great garden showed.
And through the wreaths of floating dark up-curled
Bare sunrise flowed."
Is there no poetry in the star-garb of night— and did not Newton enable ns to listen to
the music of the spheres? Is there no poetry in the records* of a bygone creation — nnd
have not these splendidly-descriptive rock-pages been read to us by the gedqgist? la
there no poetry in the seemingly all-potent ocean— <aid shall we deny the poetiy of the
scientific powers by which man has made it subject to his will? Is the lightning-flaah
only poetical when, like a destroying angel, it flits throogh the heavens and strikes the
earth dumb with tenor?— and does it become prosaic only when it links sool to sool in
messages of love, and becomes the arbiter of peace? Is there no poetry in the hngo
leviathan-like fire-ied dimoght-steed which man harnesses and guides with periect onse
and safety wheresoever he wills? Is arehitectnre n seienoe, and are noi fisthfrfra Is
minsters, &&, " fossil poetry?** If inventive genius belongs to the poet, does it not also
belong to the scientific inventor or discoverer? If Imagination is " the light of all oar
RHCTORtC. — SO. ZIII.
seeing," does it not iUamine the geometrician as well as the poet? Is the poetical only
displajed in the invention of falty tales, mind-moring fictions, gorgeous imagerj, or in
describing " cloud-land," and not also in the invention of nation-improTiog mechanisms, or
the description of the splendid sceneiy which abounds in the terra firma of scientific
fect?»
The rtal is the parent of the ideal. Science the origin of Poetry^ and, vice verm,
Poetiy the origin of Science; for the true must be productive of beauty and goodness; and
whatever is productive of the good and the beautiful must be true — not, perhaps, truth in
a veritable present embodiment, but a portion of that eternal truth, of which all fact*
truths are only parts. We do not say that Science w Poetry, bat that it is a member of
the progressive series of which Poetry is the result.
*' For when the different images of things
By chance combined, have struck the attentive sotil
With deeper impulse, or connected long,
Have drawn tlie frequent eye ; however distinct
The external scenes, yet oil the Ideas gain
From that coi\iimction an eternal tie.
And sympathy unbroken. • • •
By these mysterious tics the busy power
Of memory her ideal train presenres
Endre; • • • •
At length, endowed with all that nature can bestow.
The child of Fancy oil in silence bends
O'er these mixt treasures of his pregnant breast
With conscious pride ; from them ho oil resolves
To form he knows not what sublime raward
Of praise and wonder."
This dasB of ideas, relations, and emotions, is the raw material from which Imagination
elaborates— according to the predisposition of the mind, its general cnHora, incfinatioiiBy
and associations — Science or Poetiy. In one mind eztenial things become the seeds fimm
which springs forth Geometry — In another, they become " The Seasons;" in one, they pro-
duce an historical treatise-— in another, ** The Course of Time;" in one. Moral Philosophy —
in another, ** Paradise Lost;" in one, the science of Geology— in another, ''The World
before the Flood ;** in one, the Nuova Scienaa — in another, the **IHmna Conmedia;** in
one, « Cosmos," or " The Architecture of the Heavens"— in another, •* Night Thoughts,**
or ** The Excnrsion;*' and so on, in every case under the " shaping spirit of Imagination,'
each mind elaborates that portion of the true, the good, and the beautiful, of which he i
the most capable einositor.
n
" It sports like hope upon the captive's chain ;
Deseends in dreams upon the couch of pain ;
To wonder's realm allures the earnest child ;
To the chaste love refinae the insUnct wild ;
* See Amher iUoatratioiie in Lord Brougham's " Disoonrse on the Ol^eeU, Pleawea, and Advan^
tages of Sdenee."
8
18 TRB STBXCT OB8ERVAXCS OF A SABBATH, AS EXJOIKED IN THE
And as in waters the xefleeted beam
Still where we turn glides with us ap the stream;
And while in truth the whole expanse is bright.
Fields to each (ye Hi otcn/ond track of light*
Hrliginii.
IS THE STRICT OBSERVANCE OF A SABBATH, AS ENJOINED IN THE
OLD TESTAMENT, INCUMBENT UPON CHRISTIANS?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
Before proceeding I must positivelj ob-
ject to the emblazonment of the colours
under which I am about to fight. No Chris-
tian, I am sure, can logically support the
Jewish sabbath, with all its formalities,
under the christian dispensation ; it suffices
for him to support the claims of the day to
a sacred character, and to show his reasons
for this, first, from those sacred writings
Admitted by Christians to possess authority
in the matter; and, secondly, from the con-
stitution of things, or its suitableness — not
to man, as an animal merely possessed of a
physical constitution, requiring certain pe-
riodical supplies of bread and butter, and the
compliance with certain natural laws, which
seem to be pretty nearly the Alpha and the
Omega of our utilitarian friends; but to man
as a being who can bend in adoration before
the throne of the Eternal — who on the wings
of imagination can explore
•* Happy fields.
Where joy for ever dwells,"
or descend to
" Repons of sorrow, doleftU shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell ;"
who joins to his physical and intellectual
ft moral nature also.
But, before proceeding farther, let me beg
to assure my friends that I am not an
Agnevite; not that I entertain any especial
horror towards thc^emory of this, I believe,
sincerely christian and philanthropic gen-
tleman; but in indulgence to the feelings of
the opposition, on whom symptoms of in-
drpient convulsions appear at the bare men-
tioa of bis name.
tonarU vfith the prmciples of tnlightmd
reason^ that the salhaih is a day set apt^l
not cmijy /or regt—Jbr quiescence fn^i
physical labour — hut a day for bringw^
the soul into closer communion tcith htr
Creator— for awakening and elecsAlng iks
spiritual or moral nature of man.
Before entering, however, upon the scrip-
tural argument in favour of the sanctitj of
the sabbath, my utilitarian friends mist
permit me to indulge in a quiet cachinos'
tion at their admirable argumentative ttctics
under this head. " Look you," says tb«r
champion to his supporters; ** I don't cut •
fig for this argument from authority; i»
fact, between you and me, it's all fudge; tatt
then, won't I trounce the Sabbatarians nicely
with their own weapons! The sword is*
wooden one ; but I can beat them off as easily
with this as the Damascus blade of reiwO'
Well, my tricky friend, as we are not goii^
to settle the truth of Christianity, bii(
whether the sanctity of the sabbath if ^
cognised by it, let us have at thee with titi'
sword which thou believest wooden.
I. The citadel of the scriptural argaoMBt
lies iu the fourth commsndment; and, to
Christians, the only questioo that can •">*
from the admission that the Jewish diif^
sation has been superseded by the dirw»
is, Does this dispensation ahn^ate the foV
with respect to this oommand? 1^^^
ten commandments, or those laws ^^
were written by the finger of God upon ^
two tables of stone, were, by the ip0^
manner in which they wew delivered, •*
their foundation in the monl nature flf*''^
lifted far above the common otreDSinal k**
JVoir to onr case. I wish to sfRrm ^iIi^a\.\ ol 3\i<\«catcv^ xso Chriatian who w^'^ij*
St is afreedbU to the icord of God, and cofv-\ wrv^Vxxi^ vbk^wS^-^ xfimffsfiasilt **•
OLD TESTA^IRHT, IKCUMBENT UP02V CnR1STIA2(8?
!
Ten gloriona mnnonncements! marked as with
^gbtn'mi; npon the front of an abyra of dark-
i>«iw, revealing the conditions which God had
unpressed npon the moral natnre of his
cniture, man, and received as such bj all
l^e and noble minds under whoso under-
istandb^ they have come since, in spite of
«11 that thou majest affirm, my sneering,
utilitarian friend, professor of the bread-and-
wtter creed ! Of these ten commandments
^ one jot or tittle has passed or sIiaH pass
*^vr while the moral constitution of man
'^nuuns as it is. Let us see. Has the first,
w the second, or the third, or fifth, sixth,
(erenth, eighth, ninth, tenth, commandment
^ abrogated ? Has the christian dispensa-
"00 enabled its believers to dispense with the
ttcloiive worship of one Jehovah — with the
•wihip of this Being, not by symbolic repre-
^'litations, but in immediatcy of spirit and
truth— with the cultivation of a reverential
spirit towards him personally, and the things
wnnected with liim or his wontliip — with
tbe honour due to parents, and the obvious
'datians of society springing out of this, the
pioitive — ^with the preservation of the lives
of themselves and their neighbours — with
tint purity of heart and life, and that regard
to the property of others, which it is the
""wtof Christianity to inculcate — with that
pwd to truth, of which witness-bearing
■>^ the sacred tribunal of the laws is the
appropriate symbol — with that quenching of
^^ evil desires within the heart which lie
Jjt the bottom of all outward sins — ah ! and
■■i I forgot?— with the observance of a
"PKial (ime, when the soul, shaking off, or
^^voaring to shake off, the burden of
Jridly affairs, strives to drink more deeply
V the fountain of all goodness, purity, and
truth?
Bot rAers isthis commandment abrogated ?
^ the walkings of Jesiis and his disciples
JJ^'oagh the cornfields on the sabbath, and
j^Abg a few ears of com to satisfy their
'^H'tr-'-doet the healing of the sick on the
•■■• day-^prove its abolition ? On the
2|*itiiryy our Lord justifies these practices
vthe existing Mosaic law, rejecting only
^^ needless and formal commentaries
2|^ had been added to the law in the
^ tf Jewish traditions. Has St. Paul
^li>Mtod its abolitioa, when he says (Col. ii.
^^X^'LbI no nan judge tou in respect— 7/ ,
^^PPttrmv^-.^ fw^ or jMaM^f* Bethink f
thyself, my utilitarian friend ; these are but
scanty proofs for the abrogation of a com-
mandment standing in the centre of a code
which, if thou dost not consider binding
npon Christians, then for ever I hope to for-
swear thy Christianity. It is unnecessary
to point to many things whidi were repealed
by the introduction of the gospel ; nor is it
enough to say that the spirit of the latter
dispensation has modified, to a considerable
extent, that of the former. This, however,
cannot render evident the repeal of a positive
law. I^t us see, my utilitarian friend, how
thy reasoning looks cast into a syllogism : —
1. Sotiie things belonging to Judaism
were aboli&hed by Christianity.
2. The sabbath belonged to Judaism.
3. Therefore the sabbath was abolished
by Christianity.
Muthinks there's a screw loose in the con-
nexion between the major and minor pro-
positions, my friend! I fear the syllogism
would scarcely pass muster before Mill or
Whatelv.
Before leaving this part of the argument,
allow me, my friends of the opposition, to
express my wonder how you, who are all fur
the spiritual liberty of Christianity, become,
when the change of the sabbath from the
seventh to the first day of the week, fnlh
under consideration, so very strongly attaelied
to the letter; or how, even admitting that
the change is faulty, it follows that we
ought, therefore, to keep no sabbath at all?
But, granting that the change has taken
place in a manner hardly definable, we
Christians believe that the resurrection of
the Son of God and Saviour of mankind —
the consummation of the hopes of fallen
humanity — was an event suflicient to justify
the first day of the week being held as the
sabbath instead of the seventh. So much
for the scriptural argument
IL In the second place, suppose it is
granted that there is a God — a personal
God, and not merely a system of material
laws; seeing, moi'eover, that all mankind
worship; seeing that worship is, or ought to
be, the struggle of the mind to approach
nearer perfection, rhich is embodied in God,
what dreadful impropriety is there in main-
taining that there should be special times
when the soul should shake off the h\»d«\\
of its material ei\V\TOTim«cv\A^ vcA ccAvM^^'e
to rise higher mud b\^\itT ^si «^T\VoiX «X\»»r-
10
IS THB STBtCT OBSSRVAMCB OF A SABBATH, AS BXJOINBD DT THB
xnents? And to this an inBtinctiTe feeliBg
of its propriety has univenallj compelled
mankind, so that even among the most
debased idolaters we find special periods set
apart for pccnliar devotion before the sbrioe
of that being whom they worsbip. In the
Jewish and christian religions, which are,
indeed, bat two parts of a great whole — in
these tme and divine religions, which have
lived, and will continue to live, in all ages,
we therefore natnrallj expect to find adequate
expression for this laudable desire of the uni-
versal mind. This, accordingly, we have, first,
in the strict forroalitj of the Jewish sabbath,
agreeing with the objective character of the
times, when all impressions must come to
the infant mind from without ; and, second,
in the greater liberty, but equal sanctity, of
the christian sabbath, when more was left to
the active mind, and the discretion of a
thoughtful manhood. As for the sabbath in
its phase of a day of rest, I demur to the
mental process by which my utilitarian
friend arrives at the conclusion that rest
means refreAmeni, and refreAment means
recreaiioHf and recreation is the noble, truly
enlightened, and philosophic enjoyments of
a Parittan sabbath; yet, bdeed, how can we
but agree with him, when we observe the
noble ooodnct, the strict regard to truth and
r
nMkrslity, the admiration of all that is reaify
great, and wise, and good— above all, thmt
exemphtry solidity and greatness of cb»-
raeter which attention to religious duties in
genersl, and their observance of the sabb«tli
in particular, has induced in our neighbonzB
of the Grande Natumf^igmt closer witli
him still when we see Jluit '* bright and
occidental star** — that pink of morality-—
that pattern of the household virtueS'—thBt
monument of patriotism-«>that Waahingtoa
in the field— that Solon in the caUnei— that
Alfred in administration, whom the united
sufirsges of the French nation have raised to
the dignity of their emperor? But, if re-
creation is required — ^and undoubtedly it is—*
has it never occurred to my utilitarian friend
that man might possibly not be ordainod to
labour six days in the week — that five days
of labour ought to be sufficient for Bum; and
then we might have a day for recrsation as
well as one for religioo?
In conclusion, I beg to advance and sop-
port the doctrine, that the sabbath ought
still to be kept holy ; and, though no man can
be foroed to do so, yet that eveiy man ahonld
be allowed to exercise the choice of his con-
science, even although he belong to the pro-
scribed class of lailway and hackney-coaoh
drivers. HA«of.Pb
KSOATIVB ARTICLE.— I.
You need not, my worthy firiends, enter-
tain the idea that the institution of the
sabbath day is in any imminent danger of
destruction. You need not fear that the
present, nor, indeed, any amount of pnbUe
discussion will materially tend to shake its
foundations in society, and to precipitate its
violent and speedy overthrow. The sabbath
day, whether as a day of rest, of recrcatioo,
or of warship — as the nniter of families, the
restorer of health, the only opportunity to
thousands for united spiritual exerciser-
has entwined itself too strongly and closely
around the humsn heart to idlow snoh sn
event to be thought of as even possible. The
sabbath is older than Christianity— is older
than Judaism; it is as old as the creation,
and spnmg into existeBee with the humsn
rsos and with time; it is, thenfore, not a
violent nor an nnressonable supposition that
its divine Author will preserve it to run its
race with both, sad will oontinns it on the
earth till msn shsll oesse and tims shsll be
no mors.
It seems to be the opinion, however, of a
Isrge and respectable section of society, that
the only means of securing a oonsnmnastion
so devoutly to be wished is by insisting upon
s strictness of obssrvanoe which is repugnant
to the tastes and feelings of the great ma-
jority of the people, and which is, in £sct,
not very consistently csrried out by soma
even of the most eloquent snd sctivs ss-
ssrters of it.
In the frequent discussions which sUend
the ssssrtion of such views it is pretty gcne^
rally admitted that there is nothing of a
prtceptite character by which snoh striotneas
can be enforced to be met with in the Asv
Ttitamemt seriptnres; reoonzae is thefcfigse
had to the Old Testament; sad It is nade*
nkble, if the law there laid down has now
full force, thst we sre not oidy wrong in onr
I principles, and guilty of veiy great sin, bnl
OT.D TE8TiLMB2(T, IHCUMBBIIT tTPON OHBISTIAIVS?
li
that oar oppooents abo are reslly in as bad
a aitaatton as oanelres.
The following list will be fonnd to com*
prise all the passages in the Old Testament
having any direct reference to the observance
of the sabbath da7:~>£zod. xx. 6—10;
zxxi. 14, 15; xxxiv. 21; xxxv. 2, 3; Dent.
T. 12—15; Jer. xvii. 21,22; Numb. xv.
32 — 35. Oar space forbids a quotation of
these, except as we reqnire them in the
course of onr remaHcs, and we therefore
recommend the reader to write them ont and
carefully to read them, so as to ascertain
the general scope o{ their reqnimments, be»
fore proceeding any farther with the dis-
cussion.
Before proceeding to disenss whether these
passages contain that which u binding upon
us as Christiana, we wish t« draw attention
to a point upon which we are inclined to lay
considerable stress; it is — that the enact-
ments contained in these several pasMges
constitute one law, not mtfty laws; that is
to say, we regard the notion — sedulously,
inenlcated by some— of one general sab-
batical law, addressed to, and binding npon,
all mankind; and of others, addressed ex-
clusively to the Jewish people, and contain-
ing enactments and particnlar applications
of the law not included and oomprshended
In the general one. We think there is no
particaUr application or enactment men-
tioned which is not legitimately implied in
the terms of what is known as the fourth
commandment. This conclusion requires no
further iUustration or argument than is fur-
nished by the iate of the man who gathered
sticks on the sabbath day. There was, cer-
tainly, no exprtu command against gather-
ing sticks on the sabbath, and therefore,
unless upon the ground that suclr prohi-
bition was clearly enough implied in the law
delivered on Sinai, where was the jnstioe of
the man's death? We, therefore, certainly
ooQsider that-aabbatarians are not warranted
in asserting the divine authority of ofie part
of the Jewish sabbatical law, while they
reject and rrfute to rednce to practice any
other of its requirements. Do they not do
so? How many ChristianB advocate the
stninlness of kindling a fire, and of partaking
of hot tea or cdfee, on the sabbath day?
Bat, not to continue this line of remark, we
procxed to state the reasons lor the " nega-
ttve" iaith whtch is in us.
We object, in the first place, that a strict
observance of a sabbath, as enjoined in the
Old Testament, is impracticable, and that
the law iteelf is obsolete. The terms used
in the enunciaticm of the law are of the most
positive and unqualified nature: — " ... In
it thonshalt notdoaf^work,thou,nor thy son,
nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy
maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger
that is within thy gates." — ** . . . For who-
soever doeth an^ work therein shall snrely be
put to death.** — ** . . . Whosoever doeth aiijf
work on the sabbath day, he shall snrely be
put to death."—" ... In it thoa shalt not
do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy
daughter, nor thy man-servant, nor thy
nudd-servant, nor thine ox, nor thine ass,
nor any of thy cattle, nor thy stranger that
is within thy gate; that thy man-servant and
thy maid-servant may rest as well as thou."
Here the terms are seen to be perfectly ab-
solute and unqualified ; as, indeed, it seems
necessary they should be, when the penalty
for disobedience was so tremendous. But,
as if to exclude even the possibility of doubt,
we further read, in connexion with the last
quotation but one, *' Ye shall kindle no fin
throughout your habitations npon the sab-
bath day;*' and subsequently there is the
account oif the man ^rho was put to death
for gathering sticks on that day. The iair
inference, then, from all these passages is,
that any and every kind of work on the sab-
bath day was a breach of the sabbatical law;
and the particulars supplied by the sacred
text show that by " work " was intended, not
merely work for hire, and the ordinary occu-
pations of liie, but also every kind of labour
and ex«rtion whatever.
Now, we say that the observance of the
sabbath, to anything like this extent, is im-
practicable. The usages of civilization render
many things absolute necessaries to us, which
to Jews dwelling in the Arabian desert would,
no doubt, have been gratefully received as
absolute luxuries. Besides, some things,
again, are rendered necessary by circum*
stances over which we can exereise no effec-
tual contrel. To take one instance out of
many that offer, the nature of the climate in
these kingdoms lenden it absolutely neces-
sary that we shoufdf through a great part of
the year, ** kindle a fire throughout our
habitations.* Some other things might be
named, had we space, which are as necessaiy
12
18 THB 8TIIXCT OBaEBVAMCB OF A SABBATH| AS ENJOINBD TS TBK
to the most ordinary- degree of comfort, and
irhich involre even more labour than light-
ing a fire. If, then, this presumed duty be
evidently impracticable under onr drcom-
atances, it is no less than a libel upon the
Krisdom and goodness of God to assert that
he has laid the performance of it upon us.
But we also say that the law which enjoins
it is obsolete. Ar^ law, to the infraction of
which pains and penalties are annexed, be-
comes obsolete so soon as the penalties proper
to it cease to be, or to be able to be, inflicted.
As a case in point, I may be allowed to men-
tion that, according to a clause in the Uni-
formity Act of Charles II., cap. 4, any person
found present at any form of worship other
than that contained in the Book of Common
Prayer is liable to six months* imprisonment
for the first offence, to twelve for the second,
and for the third imprisonment for life. That
act has never been repealed, but it is obso-
lete. Why? Because it is no longer possible
to enforce the penalties due to the infringe-
ment of it. We, therefore, contend that the
Jewish law of the sabbath is obsolete, because
it is no longer possible to inflict the penalty
denounced against disobedience to it The
power to inflict it passed from the Jewish
nation when they ceased to be able to ad-
minister their own laws; and this power so
lost has never been recovered by, nor delegated
to, any other power on earth.
But it may be said that the ^ moral duty"
to strictly observe this law remains, even
though it be true that it cannot otherwise be
enforced. This argument rests upon the
assumption that the Jewish sabbatical law
is a "moral law," or is a fundamental ele-
ment in what is called, par excellence, " the
moral law" of the commandments. But we
deny the soundness of that assumption. The
definition of a moral law — a definition fur-
nished by Sabbatarian divines — ^is, that it is
a law which possesses force and vitality
imder all circumstances, and in all times and
places. It is one of the first principles of
moral science: it is to morality what an
" axiom** is in metaphysics: it is a law which
springs directly from considerations connected
with the moral government of the universe,
and is as eternal as the moral nature of the
divine Being.
Now, it is at once evident that the sab-
batical law does not fall within the terms of
the definition. Clearly, obedience to it as a
law could not be claimed before its promnl*
gation. It could not be binding before it wns
made known, nor after it to any to whom it
remained unknown. It is, therefore, not a
moral law, but an mttitiUion, But take a
law which does fulfil the conditions of the
definition. Take, ^'Thou shalt not kill.**
He would deserve to be set down as a hope*
lessly wrongheaded roan who should arj^ie
that it was right to commit murder befor*
the delivery of this prohibition, or that, in
the observance of it, it would be right still.
It is a law written in the human heart.
Even the Greenlander feels its force, and
instinctively shuns the presence of one who
is stained with guilty blood. Not so, how-
ever, with the sabbatical law. It fulfils none
of the legitimate conditions of a moral law.
It possesses for us, in fact, no higher sanc-
tion, no greater authority, than that pos-
sessed by the sabbatical year^ or even by the
regulation of the proper trimmings for the
priests* garments.
But we go further, and say that, even as
an institution, it does not rest upon moraX
grounds. The children of Israel are com-
manded to hallow the sabbath day, becausk,
as stated in one place, '' in six days the Lord
made heaven and earth, and rested the
seventh day;" and in another, "Remember
that thou wast a servant in the land of
Egypt, and that the Lord thy God brought
thee out thence through a mighty hand, and
by a stretched out aim: thebbfobe the
Lord thy God commanded thee to keep the
sabbath day." Now, if there is anything of
a moral nature in these considerations re-
garded as the basis of the sabbatical insti-
tution, we profess ourselves unable to point
it out, and magnanimously leave it to our
friends on the opposite side to give the world
the benefit of the discovery.
In the next place, we deny that the strict
observance of a sabbath, as enjoined in the
Old Testament,is incumbent upon Christians,
because the Jewish sabluitical law was abro-
gated and annulled by the advent of the
christian dispensation. We infer this, first,
from the practice and teaching of Chrvit;
and, secondly, from considerations connected
with the peculiar character of the christian
religion. Our limits, however, will only
allow us to notice, and that briefly, the first
of these. We have already attempted to
show that all the various general and par-
OLD TESTAMRKT, INCUMBESIT U^N CHBUTIANS ?
13
tienltf euctmenti of the law of the sabbath
an to be iDcluded in, and considered as fonn-
in&OM law. It was also shown, bj reference
to the fate of a certain sabbatical sinner,
tint the breach of the law, even in a trifling
(articular, was considered to merit the pan-
ishnwDt dne to even the most flagrant vio-
Istioo of it. In accordance, then, with this
priodple, we shall consider onr case estab-
lished, if we adduce but one direct and nn-
mUtaktble violation bj Christ of the sab-
UticalUw.
The case we shall particniarlj refer to is
bribed at length in John ▼. 1 — 9. It is
that of the man who had an infirmity thirty-
^ht jears, and whom Christ cured on the
nbbath day. According to Jewish notions,
^10 doing he defiled the sabbath; and there
cu be no doubt, according to the terms of
the law, that snch was the case. Bat this
*ai not all. Christ not only broke the law
lunuelf, acc<Mrding to the popular interpre-
UtioQ of it, but he caused the man to sin
iguiist it, according to one of the express
ud definite forms in which it was delivered.
Toning back to Jer. xvii. 21,22, we read : —
"Thu ssith the Lord; Take heed to your-
idvei, and bear no burden on the sabbath
^1 nor bring it in by the ffates of Jeru-
N^; neither carry forth a burden out of
7<Ar houses on the sabbath day, neither do
7* toy work, but hallow ye the sabbath day,
« I commanded your fathers." Now, we
ve not allowed to beliere, from the very j
Bitnre of the whole case, that Christ was
• I
'Snorut of this command, and of its conse- i
^ttnt obligation upon the Jews; yet we find
^ in the most direct method of opposition
poxiUe, commanding the man to ^' take up
% bed and walk.** And, by what wc feel
^'vnelTes perfectly unjustified in regarding
* t mere accidental coincidence, this was
^ immediately outside one of the gates of
^'cnailem, and of course, in "bearing his
burden" home, he would be compelled to
" bring it in by the gates of Jerusalem."
Therefore, we do say most emphatically,
looking at all the circumstances of this case
in connexion with others, such as Matt. IL
23; iii. 1 — 6; xii. 1 — 13; and John ix. 1—
12, and regarding them all in the light of
the peculiar character and mission of Christ,
that he could not more efiectually have abro-
gated and annulled the Jewish sid>batical law
than by the methods here displayed; and, as
a consequence, that such abrogation was in-
tended and designed.
We take leave to say, however, in parting,
that, because we refuse to submit our necks
to the yoke of a law at once oppressive, ob-
solete, and impracticable — a law which comes
to us with the authority of no moral obliga-
tion, and which the Founder of Christianity
has himself taught us to disregard — we do
not necessarily put ourselves in a position
of hostility to the sabbath itself. We re-
gard it with a sincere and earnest regard.
We often feel that without it our journey
through life would be intolerable ; that with-
out it life would be a burden, and existence
itself a curse. We believe, also, that to the
sincere Christian it is a sweet memento of
divine love — a convincing argument for one
of the most important facts which form the
basis of his belief, and a constantly-recurring
remembrance of that glorious immortality
and everlasting rest which will be his reward
hereafter.
But to what extent it should be observed
by the Christian^ and by what means sought
to be preserved, are questions which, in tlus
view, do not properly enter into this discus-
sion, and in the investigation of which, if
they did, we should receive but little light
and assistance from the study of a subordi-
nate element in a worthless and discarded
economy. Irbne.
If iny man possessed every qualification for success in life, it is probable he would
'^>UQ perfectly stationary. The consciousness of his powers would tempt him to omit
^VP^tmiity after opportunity to the end of his days. Those who do succeed ordinarily
***,th8ir suooess to some disadvantage under which they labour; and it is the struggle
^pOMt a difficnltj that brings facilities into play.
^taMwai originaUy deemed supernatural; the happy possessor waa«\xY^M«iV&^<^
?••**• with m siiperior order of beinga, and it was thought that t!b« Genii \\i«CDaM^'««ib
^^tibMl/ iBipind Jum with bia superemiuent powers.— Co^an*
u
WOVU> EDUCATION EBADICATB CR1XK ?
WOULD EDUCATION EBADICATE CRIME ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
Birr too well fonndad is the reproach with
which the English as a nation are met, of
spending rasi sums annoallj for the punish-
ment of crimes, to the perpetrators of which
no prerentire indncement .has heen held
out We are-reiy careful to keep up all the
paraphernalia of vengeance — jails, chains,
and gibhets, with their accessories, con-
stables, policemen, and soldiers, bj which
the mc^'ef^ of the law is upheld; but a verj
hiadequate sum is supplied to train the
moral teachers — to prevent the infringement
of those laws, on the inviolability of which
the happiness of the nation depends. Thus,
** ixrespective of local taxation, we are at
present paying £2,000 every day in the year
for prisons and convict establishments at
home and in the colonies, and at the same
time only £350 per day goes to promote the
education of the people of England, Wales,
and Scotland ; the BiiUbank Penitentiaiy
takes nearly £1,000 a year more for the
confinement, watching, and keep of 1,300
priaoners, than 284 schools in Lancashire
and Cheshire take for educating 40,000
children ; while Van Diemen^s Land, with a
criminal population of 6,000, costs the
country more by £600 than the whole edu-
cation grant to Ireland^ under which nearly
half a million of children are now being edu-
cated; and more than £1 per head per
annnm is spent on the religious instruction
of these same 6,000 convicts, while in the
heart of Liverpool there are as many people,
happily not yet convicts, whose spiritual
destitution and ignorance of religion is so
great, that a clergyman labouring in the
neighbourhood is forced to say with sad
truth, that the majority are simply not
Christians.*** But, as the evil exists, let
ns try to (A)tain a glimpse of the cause of
crime, and the relation of education to the
criminal.
What, then, is the cause of crime? We
* See Chainb«n*e ** Papers for the People'—
Edttoation Movement. Note, page 9.
are all more or less inclined to indulge in
acts that we believe will promote our hap-
piness. The high-toned morality of one
class may lead to the eliciting of the moral
and religions feelings. Its members may
enter warmly into such an object, and find
much pleasure in the sacrifice of leisure,
convenience, and taste, to such an end. The
intellectual faculties of another clas«, united
to a benevolent nature, leads its membels to
teach and expound the details of science and
intellectual tmtlis, and finds as great a plea-
sure in it. But, unfortunately for sodetj,
th«re is a third class, who seek persoral
aggrandisement and the gratification of their
lowest emotions and foelings alone, to ensure
their happiness. The ego with them is the
highest and most worthy ol^ect in the uni-
veree, and its pleasure, its apparent advan-
tage, is to be ci>tained at all hazards, and at
any expense. The fact will now and then
obtrude itself, that such a predominance of
self cannot be maintained without detriment
to society; but it is considered as unim-
portant unless detection follow the act. The
punishment is feared, not the act. Such
self-gratification is the aim of their exis-
tence-^the chief incentive to action. This
is the source from whence arises the first
class of criminals. Another class arises
from those who, possessing a generous and
an uprif^ht character, overcome by circum-
stances, by the heat of the moment, by the
stimulants, either physical or mental, are led
against their better instincts into an act, or
a course of actions, for which they repent
immediately after. Crime may be far from
such men's minds and intentions, until, led
by drink or excess of passion, or other
mental disarrangement, to forget duty and
their native love of goodness, or even the
necessary consequences to themselves or to
others; and while thus led away they oom>
mit crimes abhorred by m«i, not exceplii^
murder. And thcB there ia another and veiy
large class, who infest society with thor
black deeds through ignorance. Ignorsnce
WOUU> EDUCATION BRADICATB CRIME ?
15
of the ]air8, dlTixie and hnmaa, that goreni
the world uod iocioty, U a fraitfhl eauso of
their infringement by hundreds who have
the geoioB within, that, if cnltivated, woaU
make them its highest (Hrnaments as men
and as Christians. These have been to no
school— hare xvoeived no edneation, bito
that obtained in the world of infamj and
Tiee in which they have ever moved. They
see there exhibited none bot the worst and
blacksst charactnistios of oar nature, and is
it snrpriaing they shonld think the whole
world the same? What does the world for
them? When brooght in oontaet with it, it
is as aa enemy that seeks to wreak its ven-
geance on their heads, and adds to their
already demcmiac training the unchristian
punishment of the jail~a just compliment
to that already received. And thus it will
be found that the cause of crime is three-
fold : first, from a predominance of the animal
nature; second, from external excitement;
and, third, frvm ignorance.*
And, now, what is the aim of education,
and what is its relation to the criminal?
Education is a very comprehensive term.
In its highest phase it is essentially a reli-
gious act. It is the development of the
religions feelings and emotions in the heart —
a continual cultivation of reverence, venera-
tion, and obedience to God, and love to our
fellow-creatures. It is impossible for a
teacher in England to give other than a
religious education, if he appreciate at all
the end and object of his vocation; and hence
the non-religious educator is an abstraction.
There is much misapprehension with respect
to religious educaUon. Too often is mere
trsining in connexion with some of the nu-
merous denominations of Christians implied
by it — instruction in a credal catechism, or
a verbal repetition of various texts of scrip-
ture. This may go on without any good
results; while, at the same time that these
fonnaUties may be dispensed with, a good
and loving man, whose heart is in the task,
^1 be able to accomplish the higher aim;
nay, can do nothing less. We are too
instmotional in our schools, and possess
teachers, but not educators. We have some-
thing more to do than to make merely
knowing men; we have to help them to be
* This claMification wiU be found •imilar to
that proposed by Combe. See " ConstiUition of
lUn,*'eh«p.Ti.
men, true, just, and beautifhl — to develop a
love for truth, justice, and beauty. Be not
satisfied with a boy's virtue because he
refrain from evil from a fear of conviction,
or of the consequences of such an act This
is not virtue. A virtuous lad acts virtuously
from an emential love of virtue. This is the
primal aim — to evolve this virtue-loving
faculty. When evolved, food must be ob-
tained for it: this is the work of the in-
structor ; and its nourishment is freely
obtained in the every-day life of the student.
But the educator is not confined to the moral
and religious sphere, although, when em-
ployed in the development of the intellect,
he will carry with him religious motives and
a religious atmosphere. There the educator
has to create an appetite, and the instructor
to supply the appetite with information. The
educator and instructor united must develop
a healthful and progressive spirit, and point
out and cause the pupil to appreciate his
true position to his fsllow-men and the
world. Having the highest aspirations
aroused, the pupil will carry with him into
all his experience, into every avocation in
which he may engage, their elevating in-
fluence. This, then, is the aim of educa-
tion— the evolution of the highest emotions,
thoughts, and iaculties, in harmony with the
religious, intellectual, and physical nature of
man.
What relation does such an edncntion bear
to the criminal, and to the repression of
crime? The first class of criminals, or those
who commit crime from a preponderance of
the animal nature, from their very partial
development, will require the highest kind
of educative training by which a harmonious
whole may be obUined. Their religious,
moral, and intellectual natures must be
brought into activity, and evolved so that
the animal nature may no longer usurp the
sway that legitimately belongs to the higher
phases of the being. Care must be taken
not to produce merely show, as cunning or
cleverness, in which most of this class will
be found to excel. We are very zealous in
turning out from our schools good accountants,
good geographers, good linguists ; and their
quality as good citizens is tested by the
manner in which these abilities conduce to
the gain of wealth, rather than by the amount
of real worth they are able to set afloat in
the world. But it must be clear that if an
16
WOUU> EDUCATION ERADICATE •CRIME ?
educational coaiBe be practised, having the
aim of derelopment, and of m^ng whole
instead of partial characters, it would meet
the wants of this portion of our unhappy
fellow-beings, bj doing away with the very
cause from which they sin. Of course
educational processes in this sense will be
more influential with the young than with
those more advanced in age ; but those grown
aged in sin must not be hopelessly abandoned,
but all our relations with them should have
an educative rather than a punishing and
degrading tendency. It should be ever
kept in mind, that all improvement is the
result of a growth; it never comes instan-
taneously; aU God*s laws are opposed to such
a result.
Then, with regard to those who have not
sufficient command over their feelings and
actions when under excitement, such an
educational treatment would do much to
strengthen their beings, and make them able
to withstand the temptation of the moment.
Many of this class revolt, when in a sane
state, against anything like crime; but they
want firmness to withstand the exciting
cause. I know it will be asserted by many
that we can do no good thing of ourselves —
that we must go to God in prayer as the
only means of gaining freedom from crime.
I desire by no means to give to man more
power than he really possesses, nor to depre-
ciate the real power of God; but it will be
found that a certain degree of self-reliance
will almost inevitably carry with it a reliance
upon the power that is above self, and that
God helps those alone who desire to help
themselves. An utter reliance upon another
power, while we stretch out no arm to help
ourselves, arises from a morbid feeling, that
entirely opposes the growth of goodness in
the soul, and is, consequently, the means of
a vast amount <^ misery in the world. Nor
would I for one moment depreciate the prayer-
ful spirit. That earnest desire to overcome
-evil, and to trust implicitly to the guidance
of Goodness and Truth, from an intense
jeaming for those spirits, by no means
Apposes self-reliance; but, forming a constant
strain on those portions of our being which,
may require strengthening, is in reality the
highest education^ process to which we can
possibly submit ourselves. Let us cultivate
such a spirit in ourselves, and strive ever to
evolve it in others, and it will be found
education does more than we imagine in the
prevention of crime.
And, with the ignorant, no one will deny
that even a mere course of instruction will
obtiin for them an immunity against crime,
if they be placed in ciroumstances that do
not call too forcibly to their criminal natuxtis.
For such the instruction should include,
besides its general routine of school lessons,
a mora expanded view of the universe and
society — of the laws by which God governs
the world, and man society. This class
requires more particularly that their commoQ
sense shall be brought into activity, and
their intellectual faculties guided by a mind
and a soul that can gain a sympathetic hold
of their hearts. They require teaching what
is right and what is wrong, as being in
accordance with, or in opposition to, the laws
of truth and goodness. Such a teacher will
also develop in them a love for learning, and
an inquisitiveness for knowledge, that will
be carried with them into the world, and will
give a healthful tone to their common sense.
And one thing should not be omitted. They
should be taught how they may honestly
earn a livelihood; for it must not be loefe
sight of, that an immense amount of vice
and crime has its origin in wantaud poverty.
Criminals sent over to Australia and Van
Diemen's Land, removed from the temptation
of committing crime by having the means
within their reach of getting a good and
honest living, leave their old course of sin
and become respectable oitisens.
Thus I have briefly attempted to show
that each individual requires a jutliciousand
separate training. It must be borue m mind,
that no limited mechanical routine will give
a worthy result; but, if taken in hand in an
earnest and universal spirit, it will be found
that education will eradicate crime.
G. P. W.
NEQATITE ARTICLE.~I.
There is an immediate consciousness
4ipon directing the mind to this subject —
and a melancholy consciousness it is, too~
'* crime** needs no definition.
that the term
The thing expressed by it, however myste-
rious when metaphysically considered, is yet
vroviJ) KDrcATio:« eradicate crime ?
17
imoof; the moit familuir objects of oar
aoquintAnce; and so namerous and palpable
•re its manifeatatioos, moreover eo coetly —
the quality which, above all others, oblijjies
oiMotatioa — that we may not even preserve
that dignified indifference with which we
demean onrselves to disagreeable intruders,
bat are compelled to a humiliating recog-
nitJOQ. Our maltitudinons array of pre-
^tires and penalties, the enemy himself
vitbal, in spite of them, ever about our
dvellini^, living at our expense, with a
cireless disregard of our means and feelings,
ve anooyances we would gladly know less
^ Begirding the whole system of things
with which we are encompassed as an open-
•pnad lexicon, every statute-book, every
polieemsn, every shilling of the county rate,
wery transport ship, every encounter with
^prarity in the streets, and with villainy
WoQgbt out from its secret chambers, is
ttch a definition of crimen in some one or
ether of its abnudance of inflections.
Without venturing to speculate upon the
itttore of crime, it may yet be desirable fur
eu purpose to premise this much concerning
it'-that it is not a product of the inttliect.
Crime is an offence strictly against moral
hnr, hence is the moral nature alone con-
ttned in the production of it. Intellect is
(■haervlent to it; so is the animal being.
"Hieie do but mould, direct, mature, like
theie outer influences which subtend the
''■vdopment of a plant, and direct its ten-
^^Qoes. Crime, then, has its root in the
■«il part of man ; if this, the soil, be well
^ and purified, then is the rank and
**>bQs weed subdued ; if there be no such
^I'libDeot, then does it luxuriate in wanton
^^r, heialthfal as the blade or the blossom
vhich has grown for a better use, because it
'"^ u readily as they seize all the advan-
f*Sttof outer influences, and make them the
"■hiunenta of its purpose. In other words,
•'^•e— or rather, if we may so speak, the
f'^ffedHesi of man to commit crime — rises
Jf ftUi with the state of his moral being.
«oa may call the phenomenon an error, an
^^ttn, a natural development, or what you
l!^s, the disposition to it in man is inva-
'^hly in a fixed ratio with the condition of
^ hciog; and when this condition is
^*i>viUe to^ and meets with opportunities
*( pnindion, then are the intellectual and
*^w fiOTltki mMd0 MTMiUble as instru-
mental aids, their very cultivation and finish
increasing the effectiveness of their use.
Crime being, then, not the offspring of the
intellect — nor, indeed, for its existence de»
pendent upon any state of the intellects-
how could the most careful, the most refined
training of the intellectual powers abate, or,
as the questiol is, eradicate the evil? What
sum of the four processes of arithmetic,
what problem of Euclid, what statute of
syntax or syllogism, is jrour talismanic aj^^nt?
Astronomize, botanize, BuckUndize, bring
down the stars with your telescope, and crack
the sandstone with your antiquarian hammer;
yea, let all the arts and sciences be granted
yon, and what is your recompense at last?
A riddance of crime? Nay. You have
made your subject a wiser man, it is true;
but will these mental riches with which yon
have endowed him make him a better man?
or have vou armed him with a shield where-
with to defend himself in the hour of tempta-
tion? In some respects your mental cnltnre
will frequently be of advantage. An edu-
cated man is conscious of the higher position
his attainments have raised him to; his self-
respect and desire to retain his position are
beneficial incentives to the moral qualities
of his being. But then you cannot rely upon
the eflicocy of education with that implicit
confidence which would warrant you in cer-
tifying its ability to eradicate crime. Where
the moral principle — the innate barrier be-
tween right and wrong — has been broken
down, your means are not sure to restore ;
and where there has been no such loss of
rectitude, they ore not sure to preserve. Yoa
avouch, perhaps, the diminution of crime in
proportion to the spread of education; bat
the diminution of crime which your statistics
prove is among the regular phenomena of
the moral world, in which crime has its fluxes
and refluxes, according as a variety of causes
may dispose to excess or reduction. Law,
by operating upon the fears of the commu-
nity, tends to a diminution. Prosperity and
plenty, by inducing contentment of mind, are
followed by the same result. Give us a cor-
nucopia, and we will be bound to keep good
order among a population more cffectoally
than it cotdd be accomplished by a whole
batch of modem Gamaliels. But we would
not underrate the eradication of crime by
any of these mfithods. Xowi «>\aXX%>Cv^%'^x^^^
the very point at\a&Ti«. *I>afc^ tSiww ^iw^.•Oa.^
c
18
WOULD EDUCATION ERADICATE CRIME ?
educated do err, notwithstanding the enlight-
enment which readinf^, writing, and arith-
metic, and even your " 8uji«?rior education,"
are supposed to affurd. They bliow that
edocation, in relation to crime, is but an
accident, exercising an influence, it may be,
but only beneficial when subordinate to high
moral principle. As long as the moral nature
is debased, so long will the intellectual con-
descend to pander to its desires ; and so lung
as the will to do right is paramount, tio long
will crime be in subjection, and this irre-
spective both of the absence and the posses-
sion of knowledge. The Haleys and Legrees
of society (and they are not confined to blave-
dealing America), supposing their acqui-
sitions from books to be commensurate with
their talent for wrong>doing, will remain the
oppressors and murderers of their race, their
callous hearts insolublo even under this
landed emollient; but their victims, the
Uncle Toms, who, poor souls, are yet rich in
better possessions than belong to their mas-
ters, and who, thank heaven! are Hkewisc
to be found of every country and colour,
are bright examples of virtue independent of
Intellectoal culture: and it is difhcult to con-
ceive what process or polish could improve a
nature, morally considered, so rich in its
native worth, and sanctified by the spelled-
ont maxims of the Bible.
** But education," we shall be told—" the
education we demand as a safeguard against
criminal practices — is not what you, with
many others, mistakenly suppoi^e, but is an
education so comprehensive as to meet the
demands of an entire nature, unfolding and
directing, in beautiful harmony with his
other faculties, the moral capabilities and
character of man." Wo do not, then, stand
singular in this error. It is doubtless true
that to multitudes *' education" is but a
limited idea. They will discourse npon it,
contribute their guineas for its iiupport,
patronize it in a hundred ways, and shake
their heads with remarkable sagacity of con-
fidence when expatiating upon its merits;
bat seek of them an explanation, and whether
it be the old regime of the dame-school
(most likely this, if early associations are
hallowed to tho memory), or that of the
more modem academy, or a public system of
** secular edaeation," or as perfect an
Mdaptation of influences to tbe CTan\\vnv aa
Ctorge Combe Jiinuelf coit\d \i&v« ^VbVit^
for, or the most earnest philantbroput of
the day longs for, which foims the mjirte-
rious notion of the something which these
people call education, you will remain as
unenlightened as themselves. Yet thit a
the pHuacea as popular amongst us as the
one-and-three-halfpenny nostrums, to likr
as to provoke comparison. The "secnUr
education,'' the mere intellectual tnunin?.
the qualifying for the counting-house, will
do as well as anything else. It is educa-
tion, and will, therefore, do wonders. Then*
is no telling what it will effect. Wc are per-
suaded that this is the notion of numbers of
well-meaning persons, who, nevertheleu,
may be shielded from severe censure by the
fact that the more important concmis ot
their daily life have suiRcient matter in tbeo
for their severest study.
Let us not be misunderstood. WedoDOt.
as some do, condemn secular education, or
education exclusive of the mental faciiltie>-
We have no sympathy with those who ay it
down as " godless "—" impious." On the
contrary, however dangerous an instnunot
we may deem cultivated intellect to be when
insubordinate to the laws of God, it is u
instrument we would place in tlie hands of
every living being, supposing we could to*
nish him with no better, trusting to to
honourable and right employment. What
we complain of is the " preventive** doctriK"
of this merely intellectual culture. **Bot>
say our friends who oppose us, " this is Be(
our doctrine. Our preventive would be the
true education, based npon an acqaaintfoc^
with human nature, and the various rel^i<s|^
it sustains in the economy of the nnivffK.
Very true; but it is an important tbia^ ^
bring up the stragglers, and this, our objcdr
will be attained, if among our readers tbrt*
shall be any wliot'C ideas of edncatioii hf*
been somewhat vague and obscure, bat «h»
by these remarks i»hall be assisted towsnb*
definite, settled position; for we prefierdrf'
niteness against us to uncertainty sod t^
thing, Xow, to our friends who differ t^
us we would say. Your theory is eoodcoB''
by a settled principle of experience. Yob
are aware that mert kwnrledge it ituiif^
to ensure obedience. For nineteen ewtvi"
has the purebt system of morals we can c^
ceive of been in existence in the workL U**
v3%V«c& qC no secondary, Inferior ebsracfc^'
v'^XvaXvs^t ^l ^aKA.'wwb vQAUncd in thi f'*'
WOULD KDUCATIO^r ERADICATK CIU3>IE ?
19
rions ijBtems, whether of divine or haman
law, of philosophic precept, and of motive to
right enidoct, was imported into and incor-
porated with this. This system of morals
has been studied in the cloister, preached in
tkchnrch, reasoned in the schools, till every
part of it has been made manifest, and sets
of theology have become the bulkiest volumes
on oar book-shelves. Not dry ethics, either,
P'weesing no attribute of allurement, but
Uv taking the fomr of love, as that most
^^j to win compliance. Bcbides these,
tWe have been sister influences at work,
Ndun;; to captivate the lieart of man ;
^^fMtd visions have these been of heavenlv
P^ntj, seeking to conquer by this same
pfiwer of love. The poetic sentiment has
clothed his dwelling-place with beauty; the
retj stars o{ heaven, as well as the flowers
•(«arth, have breathed of love — the love of
^ and their Creator. The affections, like
^|[fat angels, have clustered around him ;
*od the jasmine porch, the cheerful hearth,
^look of lore, and tlie touch of trustinj;
^^idemess, has each symbolized the love of
^ heavenly Father. Even science, cold
Hj luinviting in general, has lent her aid,
^ mvesting the institute with attractions
*feiior to those of the tavern. Thus has
■tt been forced to know, while the very
itniBgeat motives which can affect his
Altera have sought to ensure obedience.
*^te of all, crime exists, an unsubdueable
^men of earthlinesa. Educated ir.en
'*'* fidlen so low in the depths of crime,
^ the phrase "educated villains" has
^'BOBie a hackneyed expression.
C^oeatioo, -we presume, has no better
••teitis to work with — no stronger motives
te yiia obedience. She may call morality,
^ drawn from the Bible, cant; she may
|N*ie the teachings of nature as beneath
^ttiditioD of letters, but she cannot im-
1^^ ipoo them ; her cardinal virtues will
^ ha more virtnoiis. Supposing her to be
^■Qn skitfiil preceptor, her best teachings
*ffl not excel. Mankind will be no wiser
*N tbt mlet of right and wrong, though
J^7 things to be governed by them, and
Jj*l» hidden, may be brought to light.
^ Kt quMtiin whether education can
command motives to morality even equal to
those at present existing. Let ^funchester
open her free libraries — all honour to her for
the deed! — let benevolence, with all those ad-
vantages which blue-books and inspectors —
abounding as they do in moral and industrial
plans of reform— can afford her, as well as all
those means which her remarkable fertility of
invention can create, devise such a master
scheme of education as shall be the most
appro])riatc to the end in view; let her not
be bound by precedents nor parties —if Eng-
lish ideas on the subject be too diffuw, too
self-reliant, let there be an infusion of
continental uniformity and centralization —
if there be too much tightness already,
mellow the composition with an importation
from the other hemi^«phcre; henceforth let
duty not be chance-work— a course that
depraved men may stumble into or not, the
probability being that they will not— but a
course which the light of knowledge shall
show forth with distinctness and beauty, and
what follows? A favourable but partial
effect upon your statistics— that is all. You
had hoped that men fully alive to the dan-
gers of disobedience and the rewards of obe-
dience would, as it were, have been panoplied
against temptation ; but yon find there b a
joint in the harness through which the fatal
sliaft has winged itself. Your system of
education, so adapted to the nature of man,
and, moreover, so strongly urging him to
adapt his conduct to its dictates, is, as far
as it can effect a cessatUm of crime, as com-
plete a failure as were the simpler remedies
of bygone times, among which we have a
reminiscence (and we assure our readers
nought but a pleasant one, since we never
underwent the operation) of a system pur-
sued by an honoured dame, comprehending
in its remedial provisions a ferule for the
pilferer, and a pinch of cayenne ptpptr for
the tongue of the storyteller!
That crime can he eradicated fnrni the
present constitution of things may be doubted;
that it will be eradicated may be hoped; but
of the means which we deem destined to this
desired end, if it be ever to be accompliihed,
it is not within our province to speak.
B. W. P.
20
18 THE CHARACTKR OF THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON
Instnrq.
IS THE CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON WORTHY OF
ADMIRATION ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.-I.
Altogether regardless of the opposition
which may be directed against us bj those
whose jndgments are warped bj certain
notions concerning the repnlsiyeness of war,
and who are firm believers in the "good
time coming," when peace shall wave her
" olive branch" over the whole world, we are
induced to appear in the present debate to
take up arms in defence uf England's de>
parted hero, the greatest among her sons
who have led her armies to the battle-field,
and assisted in laying the foundations of
that almost irresistible power which enables
her fleets to ride triumphant over every
wave, and to rear her victorious standard in
every quarter of the globe. The brave com-
mander, with keen eye and cool decision of
purpose, by whom the barbarian armies of
Mysore and Mahratta, with the nomadic
hordes under the apparently invincible
Dhoondiat, were successively routed and
destroyed; he before whom the conquering
French, with their marvellous chief, were at
last compelled to bow, we now intend to
vindicate. Not that we would for one mo-
ment be thought to sanction the introduction
of war as a means for obtaining peace in
cases of international disputes, or to counte-
nance the perpetration of its sanguinary
cruelties under any circumstances whatever. J
Far be such a relic of the usages of the
middle ages as this from having a place
within our esteem. We would heartily join
with the most devoted admirers of peace,
and cordially unite with those of our brethren
whose earnest hope is to see men *' beat their
swords into ploughshares and their spears
into pruning-hooks,** and for war, with all
its attendant horrors, to be banished for ever
from the earth; but still we cannot refrain
from offering our tribute of respect to one
who, in our opinion, possessed a degree of
puritf in biB general character which it
woaJd be derogatoiy to none to \m\lsXe,^
thaagb militarjf and therefore neoes&anVj
destructive, engagements constituted bis
greatest achievements. We wish, therefore,
at the outset, to be regarded not as the
champions of war, but as the vindicator! of
one who, apart from his warlike pnnnits>
was an able and a strictly moral man, ao^
the possessor of a character wcnrthy (^ ad-
miration . The whole career of the Duke rf
Wellington upon the battle-field was, so to
speak, a manifestation of merciful and heroic
feeling. Thongh a warrior, we find in him
no traces of that barbarous ferocity and
savage cruelty which has characterised »
many of those who have foUowed his pro-
fession. Thongh on many occasions tmf^
pressed by want, and apparently doomed to
starvation, we do not see him ravaging tbe
country he was employed to defend, or makiof?
undne demands upon the inhabitants thereof
for the necessaries of life.
Throughout the whole Peninsular trar, a*
well as in his earlier Indian expeditions, tbe
Duke of Wellington was placed in circoiD-
stances, and surrounded by influences, prt"
eminently calculated to test the real ten-
dency of his character, both as a soldier and
as a man. At one time open to the prote*
bility of speedy destruction, with the whfllo
of his army, and at another crowned witb
glorious successes over his enraged and in-
satiable opponents, we see him, not resortiBf
to the height of extravagance in lerenge^
actions, or exulting over his foes with eniel
rapacity or horrid butchery; bat,<m the ceo-
trary, manifesting steady and nnflinchii^
adherence to the stem mandates of justice
and tempering all his moTements witii fflO^
cifnl consideration. He toiled OQ pa<^
veringly in his campaigns, leading his bis**
though sorely battered English wtniart
through dangers and difficulties which 0?"
tains of inferior abiliUea would have ^
nounced insurmountable, and UxepBg >P
y1^\«a «Qfix\gft& '^ttdftr drramataiiees btoof"
WORTHT OF ADMUULTIOS ?
21
dfMpair. Uu military geniuB proTed fully
adequate to the reqoirements of eveiy emer-
l^ency; and the nobleoess displayed in h\a
general character on all occasions is worthy
oif enthusiastic admiraUon and enloginro.
The amonnt of forethought evidenced by
him in all his services, together with that
prompt decision, that unwearied persever-
aaoe and strict regard to the requirements
of dv^ by which he was ever characterized,
render him deserving our respect. He never
snffinred procrastination to prevent the im-
mediate discharge of every order he had
received; neither did he award to such duties
merely a fragmentary portion of his atten-
tion. His heart was ever in his work; and
hence we feel that he was worthy of admira-
tion even as a warrior engaged on the battle-
field, delivering nations from the thraldom
of the oppressor's yoke. In our opinion, none
but those who have become the victims of
misanthropic prejudices can refrain from
awarding to " England's departed hero" that
tribute of respect which is the due of all the
glorious achievements and honours of his
life.
We now. turn to a brief consideration of
the claims of the character of the Duke of
Wellington to our admiration more directly
as a man. We have shown, we think, that
his character as a warrior presents nothing
bat what we might without injury apply to
ourselves; and we now proceed to a concise
analysis of that portion of his life which
more especially relates to his actions as a
member of the legislative body of our coun-
try. We may be asked. What has the Duke
of Wellington effected in this country worthy
of our admiration? This question certainly
carries with it much apparent significance,
and would seem, upon a first glance, to pre-
sent difficulties of a somewhat serious nature.
We must confMs that his parliamentary
career certainly does not present many fea-
tnres calculatoi to awaken iu the minds of
others perceptions of greatness as charac-
teristic of his legislative capabilities; but
still an attentive observer cannot fail to dis-
tinguish throughout his senatorial proceed-
ings, as well as in his military transactions,
such qualities, and such manifestations of
virtue and justice, as constitute the general
tenor of his character worthy our admira-
tion. Though altogether destitute of the
powers of perBuasioa and captivation pos-
sessed by the orator, he nevertheless had a
degree (^ influence and power over his con-
temporaries which it has been the lot of but
a few others to realize. Always performing
every duty in *'true military style," and
imparting to the whole of his proceedings an
air of the minutest precision, he was looked
upon by his colleagues in the legislative
functions as a competent leader; one to
whom, from his known extended experience,
they could confidently appeal in matters of
doubt and uncertainty. It has been said of
him that "he imported into the peaceful
struggles of parliament the tactics of war;
always fighting to the last in defence of every
position, and only abandoning it when he
found it no longer tenable.*'* This is a
trutli fully substantiated by the evidence
deducible from a close observation of the
leading features of his political life. On all
occasions his sagacity and foresight were
remarkable; and his warning voice was ever
heard when projects of a doubtful character,
and presenting uncertain conclusions, were
under public notice. As a Conservative, he
could not, from liis principles, become a ready
respondent to the popular voice, or a willing
accedent to the wishes, and in some instaaces
to the rights, of the people ; but, nevertheless,
we find in him ideas of a much more liberal
and comprehensive caste than in the majority
of those professing a similar political creed.
He appeared ever to be strongly actuated by
the claims of necessity ; and it was not until
fully satisfied that certain measures of reform-
were actually necessary in order to maintain
social order and national prosperity that he
would, upon any occasion, accede to their
demands. In illustration of this fact we
may adduce the circumstances under which
he passed the Catholic Emancipation Act,,
assisted iu obtaining the repeal of the corn
laws, &c.
In conclusion we would remark, that the^
" Iron Duke," though belonging to a section
of politicians notoriously averse to all pro-
gressive measures, still displayed, in all his
numerous actions as a member of the legis-
lative body, an amount of common sense
which we may look for in vun in the conduct
of many others who have occupied an equal
or higher position in the English senate.
Though by mental organization, and from
* "Biographioal Magazine," NoTember, 1852.
22
IS THK CIIARACTRR OF THX DUKE OP WELUKGTON
the efTects of early training, his capubilitiea
pre-eminently qualified him fur the routine
of a military life, ho nevertheless possessed
much that rendered his civil ser^'ices vala^
able to the ;^ovcmracnt of this country. A
fipreat statesman he certainly was not; but
liis poaition in the ranks of those illustrious
individuals was by no means that of a mere
cipher, or of one who by inferiority is subor-
dinated to the will of those above them.
Indeed, very rarely in the world's history
are instances on record of men, renowned as
warriors and conquerors, possesbing at the
same time the necessary tact and ability to
constitute thrm efficient civil governors of
the countries which they have conqomi
Napolctm himself was exceedingly defidot
in this particuUr; hence his continual coo-
plaint that he was always immersed in mr-
f:ire, and prevented from carrying oat bis
plans as a ruler, and so " fulfilling hii
misbion." In our opinion, WellingtOD wu
far in advance of his great opponent in this
respect; and the fact, we think, is fallr
proved by a reference to the accoonti of bis
varioiuf campaigns. We here doae our tri-
bute to the memory of the *' hero of a bnndred
fights," fully convinced that his character i»
vortky of admiratiuH as a soldier and as a
man. T. W.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.-I.
case, that our histories are full to repleti<'[>
with recitals of wars, or rather victories; n^
the first biography sought by our yootb I»
rosTiiUMOCS praises ought to be accepted
with extreme qualification. The dead are
for a time invested with an immunity from
reproach; there is a degree of sacredness i that of some of our greatest captains; iB<i
associated with the event, which causes one their earliest enthusiasm is to enter cor
instinctively to shnnk from giving utterance naval or our military service. Our ahnost
to thoughts calculate<l to dim the lustre of ' uniform ascendency affords incense to natioosl
their memory. The wail for their loss is ' pride, and begets that pugnacity by whidi
burdened with eulc^y, and the proper dis- ^ our relation to foreign powers is characterizei.
crimination which would reduce such eulogy There is a certain largeness in the comltiU'
to its just limits is for the moment fur- ' tions, and an energy, a heroism, an astoteness
gotten; and thus, wliile their shortcomings . required in war, calculated to win admintioo,
are overshadowed by a becoming sorrow, and well suited to the genius of our coutTT.
their virtues and tlieir merits appear in Nevertheless, our peaceful are more gloiioBS
imreal proportions: this tendency leads to than our wariike triumphs; and no epcounef-
the belief that mankind are more amiable ! ment, however indirect, or however ioapif'
than the truth justifies. With so picabing i cant, should be given to fan the too vpontanewb
an illusion we would not quarrel, were its , fiame. Though we do consider it a neccMtfT
influence confined to ordinary life; but when evil, yet, to us, it is one so dreadful, thattu
liistorical men — men whose memories are to | foster the passions that conduced to it, erto
be enduring, and whose lives are likely to be ' render men less reluctant to engage io iti
recommended as models after which the | appears the darkest criminality. That of-
career of others ought to be shaped — when , and we admit it, occasions on which ** tbr
these come to be considered, their merits and cause by right is sanctified;*' on which, if ve
their demerits should be dispassionately can- I would preserve our rights as a people, V
vassed, and an estimate of their characters . as subjects, we must vindicate then bytbr
given accordingly; by this means only cun sword — we must hazard its fntrfnl diucei
the purity of history be maintained, and Yet the fulsome adulatioo oC WeUnigtsBt i&
equivocal characters debarred the preroga- j so far as it toids to gloriff or to perpetBite
tives of the worthy. Yet a little while, and war, we feel bound to condenm. It is ti il*
a reaction wilt come of the panegyric so : being made a trade, to live and groviidi
boundlessly lavished on the late I)uke of by, that we object to war, for tbcD it '^
Wellington. i degraded from the high office of muoUivBf.
Xmv.%} and military greatness is a species and defending the right, to be an iusliiV^
of fume much cherished in the Bril\»\\ heart, ' to serve the purposes, right or wnog, d^
and han hud attached to it a d'wpro^tlmtiXft ttwtTTOMwXxtL^hose pay the anwd fci«t»»=
degren of Ijonoar. So much baa l\u» Vjwn \.Vift\ «»^ xV* ^*»r.^ A tv^^^Om^ wlv joiJ*'
-WORTHY OF ADMIRATION?
25
bk motire fur eogaging ia var, being bup-
l>Iuted hj A pence-Diotive, the amiy becomes
iieitker more luir leas tlmn homicide in
sreneral tu tlie state. We are talking; of the
inonl reUtionship which bubdibts Wtwecn
the foldierr to the qnestioiis which their
ngencv ii callaJ in to decide ; and no one who
rccalla the erentit of the past few years, can
fail to perceire a confirmation uf this view in
the war waged by AHStria a;;:(in!it Hungary.
"Our great captain '* was peculiarly fur-
Innate in serrioga liberal nation; the policy
of the ;;u%'emment regulated his conduct, so
that, had that not been liberal, hli great
military talents might have been as signally
successful if turned against the cause uf
ficedoin, as they were in promoting its ad-
vucement ; in this e\'ent he would still
luiTe been eminent, but it would have been
the eminence of infamy. To obtuiu victory
over the enemy was his aim; with the moral
wthe poUtical bearings of the issue, if pro-
Ivaiooal success were secured, he hod nothing
todo. His own words are self-condemnator}' ;
— "/ kaee ate of the king's mlt, anl there-
fm ctMsider it mtf dutj/ to tfc-rre, with zeal
«•? promjiUiudej vhetij or tch*:rtrtr^ the
^^, </r Aif povernmentf m»y think jtroper
t» mploy me.** This was his reply to a
^ind irbo,on his return from the expi'dition
ti Spain, in the command of which he had
^superseded, asked how he, who had had
tke oomouuid of forty thousand men in India,
^ been knighted, an J had received the
tbuki of parliament, coull submit to be
*ited to the rank of brigadier of infantry?
To secure oar concurrence, the admirers of
V<flio|^UiD must present far other merits
^ those exhibited in the matchless and
^ttBoptished tactician, or even the scien-
^ warriu*; these are claims which will
Ik eanceded by all who have attentively
PBVMd the narrative of his Peninsular
<mfaign; bat neither his skilful combi-
Bitiaos, hia artful manoeuvres, his inflexi-
ttty of purpose, nor his personal valour,
cneoDiaiuid oar admiration, unless these be
V^ to a good cause, and that cause itself
^ the qbIj, or at least the chief, motive, for
^lifUiK in it. It must be bhown that it
^ (-itefe fat the canse, and not a political
"^if datjr, that actoated him; otherwise,
^1m «en on the side of right, he was but
^'jtbitaUj 10, aod had no merit in it; and
*i ipMid jifti^ jnJ UDwearring golicitadc
in the performance of duty, were but talents
ill applied, and energies worse than uselessly
exhausted: unless they establish this, his
defenders secure for him the praise, merely,
of being the " ablest architect of ruin." Now,
throughout his entire military career, we
hare no intimation of refusal, on his part, to
undertake any command gi\'en by his
Mjjesty's government. The language which
Byron addressed to him still retains all its
point : —
"Though Britain owes (and pays yon too) so
much,
Yet Europe douhtleM owev yoa greatly more :
You have repaired I>egitiniary'a crutcli —
A prop not quite ao certain as before ;
Th« Sponiah, and the French, as well as
Dutch,
Have Kuen, and felt, how strongly you re-
And Waterloo haa made tlir world your debtor —
(I wish jiour baids would sing it rather better.)"
• • • • '
"If you have acted once a geuerouii part,
The world, not the world's masters, will de-
cide.
And I shall be deliRhted to leam who,
Save you and yours, have gained by Waterloo 7"
• ♦ • •
** Never had mortal man such opportunity,
Except Napoleon, or abused it more ;
You inighc have freed fallen Europe fh>m the
unity
or tyrants, and been blest from shore to
shore;
And now what ii your fame? Shall tlie muse
tune it ye
Now— that the rabble's Hral vain shouts are
o'er?
Go, hear it ii\ your famished countrv'a criea !
Uchold the world ! and curse your victories !**
• • • •
" You tlid grrat things ; but not being great in
uiiml.
Have left undtme tlie grtatcst—oxiH mankind."
For political life his training had not been
such as to render him fit, by the comprehen-
siveness of his views, the philosophical cast
of intellect, or a generous 8ympathy with
popular interests, to touch that "higlieet
point of all greatness" — the liberal-minded
sen J tor. His position had not been snch as
to develop these nobler traita — he liad imbibed
the prejudices of his class; and, accustomed
to command, when called to the legiaUtnre,
he could not undo the habits of s life. It is
true he had exercised administrative func-
tions before, but the scene was India; it is
true he had aci]uirtd an insight into civil
affairs during his secretaryship in. lt^\asA^
and in his reUiiooft W\\\i \\\% ^^«Cv^ vn^
Portuguese goyeTnuieTv\A\ 'S A Xift it%Jk '^«r5
24
IS THE CHARACTER OF WELLINGTON WORTHY OF ADXIBATIOa ?
far from beiog an enlightened statesman.
He 18 gnil^ of some heresies against the
plainest precepts of political economy. For
instance, We hear him assigning as the caase
of the depressed state of our manufactores
in 1830, home and foreign competition, and
what*s worse, improvements in machinery,
and the snbstitntion of steam power for
manual labour. No; as a statesman, a high
place cannot be assigned to him. It is to
the out-of-door agitation we are indebted for
the concessions made during his administra-
tion, rather than to the ministry; so far as
his own opinions were concerned, he was
stoutly opposed to them ; but the excitement
throughout the country was so intense, so
irresistible, that no alternative was left to
ministers, if they did not concede, but to
relinquish office. We find him in the
attitude of resistance towards the three
momentous questions which then agitated
the kingdom — the repeal of the com laws,
religious disabilities, and parliamentary re-
form; and, if he could have had his way,
no modification would have been granted. I
present the facts. During the Canning ad-
ministration he succeeded, by very disingenu-
ous means, in carrying an amendment to a
proposed modification of the com laws, con-
tinuing the prohibition till the price should
reach sixty-six shillings per quarter. In the
discussion of the Test and Corporation Acts,
he manifested great anxiety to show, that he
could not without inconsistency vote for the
bin, and yet oppose the abolition of religious
disabilities. ** There is no person in this
house," sud he, " whose feelings and senti-
ments, after long consideration, are more
decided than mine are with regard to the
subject of the Roman Catholic claims; and,
until I see a great change in that question,
I shall certainly oppose it." Allusion had
been made by Earl Grey, in moving the ad-
dress from the throne, to parliamentary
reform, and the Duke in reply said — " The
noble earl has alluded to something in the
shape of a parliamentary refonn, but he has
acknowledged that he is not prepared with
any measure of reform; and I have as little
scruple to say, that his Blajesty*s govem-
ment is as totally unprepared as tlie noble
Jord. Nay, on my own part, I will go
ftutber, and say, that I have never read
or beard of any measure, up to tbc "^tcbcivX
znomentf wLich could in any degree Mki\i.^^\\V^^t«^iiL\.\ft Wwm^^ anient oan**
my mind that the state of the repmmtitMO
could be improved, or rendered more nti»-
factory to the country at large. I am fiiUj
convinced that the country possesses at tl»
present moment a legislature which answen
^1 the purposes of legislation, and this to a
greater degree than any legislature ever hi
answered in any country whatever. Under
these circumstances I am not only not pre-
pared to bring forward any measure of tbl'
nature, but I will at once declare, that, as
far as I am concerned, cu long asIkoUmf
station in the government of the cottntry, I
shall always feet it my duty to resist mk
measures irhen proposed by others^
Ue had been called to the premiership ob
the tacit understanding that, being opposed
to Catholic Emancipation, it should not be
entertained, and he resisted, as long as resist*
ance was possible, so that though that mea-
sure was eventually passed, the credit is vA
due to him. He had no liking for it; it wis
thrust on him. We grant at once, that of all
men he was the fittest to conduct that met*
sure to a successful issue, when once satisfied
it was a duty; but, as in his miUtai7,ioin
his political, career, we must look to tb
tactics by which his designs were acooo'
plished, rather than to the principles inrolTed,
for it was neither the justice nor the salatari-
ness of the measure that enlisted him — it m^
a state necessity.
His memorable declaration against RfoflUt
subsequently made, and which we havealreidf
quoted, took the country by surprise, simI
ended, very properly, in the overthrow of his
administration. The Duke's unpopalaritr
at this time, aggravated as it was bjhii
unwise proceedings against the press, ms
not without good reason. The people vo*
instant for reform. Here was a ridoBS
system of representation which demandei
adjustment, yet he was unyieldiog, if not ao-
tagonistic. Had the change hm haMSX^
ous, such dogged persistency might ks**
found an apology; but no state risk w
involved, as he might have seen, if bt bid
that foresight, that discernment, that i^
reaching intellect claimed for him hf ^
admirers. The necessity, the justice, tb^
moderation of the popular demand was ditf*
and needed not to have incurred ao V^
hostility, even although aigns of reitivcx''
"wcc^ fxvttAvfeated. As spaoe compels tf^
\'
OUOBT TBB ORAST TO IIATHOOTH TO BE WITHDBAWXI P
2S
bj saying, that no order of greatnesa, how-
ever dazzling, or hotrever much in repute with
the world, can secure our admiration, unless
it be moral greatness — a quality with which,
so far as we have seen, the late Duke was but
indifferently endowed. Aristides.
OUGHT THE GRANT TO MAYNOOTH TO BE WITHDBAWX ?
NEGATIVE ABTICLE.— I.
Hast has been defined as a '* religious
animalf" and certainly it is one of the strong
tendencies of his nature to acknowledge his
dependence upon some higher power. We
learn that this tendency was manifested
in the earliest ages of the world, without
going to the sacied writings, for we find it
evidenced in mined temples, mouldering
altars, and rudely-sculptujn^ stones. And
this tendency is not only antique, but it is
uniyersal ; for, under whatever sky man may
have reared his tent, there he has bent before
the shrine of some supreme being whom he
baa worshiped as ** Jehovah, Jove, or Lord."
These acts of devotion he has felt to be
solemnly obligatory upon him, while they
have developed his higher nature and minis-
tered to his internal peace. But hia religion
has not stepped here — it has taken cognizance
of his social relationship, enjoined upon him
the perfonnance of certain duties, and the
pursuit of a giveu line of conduct. These
may have been various, sometimes opposing;
but in Christianity holiness has become in-
carnate in the most perfect form, and righte-
ousness enforced by the weightieat and most
solemn considerations. No wonder, then,
that the importance of religion to a com-
munity should ever have been recognised, and
that rulers should always have felt it to be
their duty to encourage it ; and if it has been
thus with the false, we might presume it
would be thus with the perfect and the pure.
.The duty of the government to provide for
the religious wanta of the people is fully
recognised in the British constitution, and
hence we have an established church, and
"grants" for other denominations. The
character and claims of our English es-
tablishment we shall not now discuss, for
we believe that it is supported by govern-
ment, not on account of any merits it may
but because it did maintain, and
perhaps still maintains, the opinions held by
the majority of the people. This is the only
principle on which any government can con-
sistently act, in taking any church under its
patronage; and that it is this principle on
which our own government has generally
proceeded, is shown by the fact, that while
we have Episcopalianism established in
England, we have Presbyterianism in Scot-
land, and Catholicism in some of the colonic.
But there is one part of the United Kingdom
in which the anomaly is presented of the
church of the minority being established by
hiw, and the members of the church of the
majority made to yield her pecuniary sup-
port. We need scarcely say that it is Ireland
to which we refer — poor, misgoverned Ire-
land; yet still
*' The fairest flower of the ooeau,
The first gem of the sea."
Yes, it is in Ireland, with her teeming Catbolie
population, that that greatest injustice of
modem tunes has been witnessed — an English
Protestant church established in a Catholic
country. Here for years the Catholics, who
formed four-fifths of the population, were
subject to pains and penalties on account
of their faith, and compelled to render sup-
port to the church that persecuted them.
With regard to the provision made in Ire-
land for the religion of the people, it has been
well said by the " Edinburgh Beview," which
no one will charge with Popish predilections
— ^ That the episcopal palaces, the episcopal
estates, the chapter estates, the parsonages,
the glebes, and the tithes of the 'whole
countiy should be given over to one-tenth of
its population; that another tenth should
receive a regular provision for its clergy from
the imperial revenue; and that the remaining
four-fiilhs should obtain no public aid in
supplying their spiritual wants, except a
trifling sum for a seminary ; that the endowed
26
ocoBT Tins ORAsrr to
TO BB WimDRAWS?
niinority shoald be the richest, and the nn-
assisted majority the poorest, portion of the
commmiitj; that the minoritj should be^he
iotruders into an endowment of which the
msjoritj were the ancient founders and pos-
sessors— all this some may think an injury,
others, amon^i^ whom we find oarselves, an
insult and injwr^ combined; some may sop-
pose that it is the unhappy bat necessary link
by which Great Britain and Ireland are
united ; others that it is the wedf^ which is
to separate them : some may believe that it
is one of the outworks of the Church of Eng-
land; others that it forms the platform from
which that church can be most easily at-
tacked. But no British statesman, whether
Tory or Whig, Gonservatire or Radical, how-
erer he may think it ou^ht to be dealt with
in practice, dares to defend or eren palliate
it in principle. No one ventures to aflSrm
chat, if the past could be recalled, he would
propose such an institution — ^no one would
tamely submit to the imputation of such
folly and such injustice — ^no one, in a word,
conceals his regret that our ancestors ware
guilty of such an injustice and such a erime.
If such are the feelings of bystanders, what
must be those of sufferers? If Protestants
are filled with shame and remorse, what can
be expected from Catholics but indignation
and hatred?"
These words are weighty with truthful
import, and yet, in the presence of such a
state of things as they depict, and while only
one Catholic college has been endowed with
a small portion of the money extracted from
Catholic pockets, there are not wanting mul-
titudes of would-be-thought friends of right
and justice, all the world over, who cry out
that the government has done a wicked deed,
and that the grant to Maynooth ought to be
withdrawn.
How such a conclusion can be satisfac-
fsctorily arrived at we are at a loss to know.
Is it that the college is not properly fulfilling
the purpose for whidi it was endowed? The
proposal made in the last parliament for
"an inquiry,** seems to indicate a sus-
picion of this ; but institutions, like in-
dividuals, ought to be treated as innocent
until they are proved to be guilty. In the
case before us there is not much probability
of an inquiry leading to an advene result,
ss the testimony of opponents shows. AVe
have before us a letter from John Ma<^regor,
bon. sec. of the Protestant Alliance, entitled
^ An Hour at Maynooth,"* in which we find
the following remarks : — " Yesterday I visited
the College at Maynooth, carried Uuther by
curiosity and the Muliingar Railway. Dr.
Russell, the professor of Eodesiastiad His-
tory, received me very oooiteoasly, and was
most kind in his attention, tmtwermg every
mqmify without kesitaticn. . . . The students
appear healthy and cheerful. ... I found a
number of young men in the library — a \trj
coli room — in which. Dr. Russell 'said, there
wot a bibie. and each ttudemt had a copy.
. . . Now there tt no need at<dl qf inquiry
in the matter. The plain fset is, that Eng-
land pays fi>r a large and successful achod
and college of Popish priests, and tha mare
thriftily the money is expended, the more
extensively and practically are the cfieets of
this college felt. / have no doubt that the
fynd* are laid out by the Papiite Bcrupmlomdy
according to their avowed intention of ospifiy'
ing them. Inquiry would be needful «ily under
surmise of misappropriation of the money, or
carelessness, or profuseness of expenditare.
** There is nothing very startling in the
foregoing account of Maynooth. Ko tale of
horrors, or discovery of dark chambon or
thumbscrews. Any person who chooses may
see for himself what I have narrated."
Such, then, is the testimony of a BWDm
opponent to the eoll^, who went out to visit
it in the hope of being enabled to make some
"startling disiclosures;*' but how difoent
the result! We commend this fact to the
attention of our thoughtful readers, and leave
the subject for the present. X
AFFIlf&lATITE ARTICLE.— I.
In the discussion of the present question
Quusnal care is necessary to preserve equa-
nimity of temper, calmness of reasoning, and
freedom from exaggeration. It is proverbial
that rellgio-political questions are **questioni»
vexatutf" but he who advocates truth from
the love of it need not become irasdUe and
petulant when his dariing is assailed by
sophistic reasoning and hyperbolic asMrtioD,
as neither will supply the place of facts and
argument: his code of honour does not recog-
nise these weapons of warfare ** in the battle
OVODT THE GaAXT TO MAVaiOOTH TO BK \ITrnDRAWy ?
2;
«f reason and the clash of words;** be is shel-
tend by no gUss house, therefore he fears
not the throirhip of stones.
Being a lover of truth mvsclf, I take part
in tLe present dUcussion with a strung
hope that no personal fueling will be in-
dnigcd on either side — '* jwinr*/;/**, not nun^
must \it our " inot tin coinbitt" Pardon me,
therefore, mv friends, if, in stating my rva-
NDf whj tiie grant to Mnynooth College
ought to be withdrawn, I should not look at
the milter from the same point of view as
roorwlf, or arrive at the same conclusions.
De pleased to weigh the matters stated,
cunune the arguments used, and test tlie
iafereRces drawn; if anywhere yon detect
«nv, kindly set me right, and you will lay
Be under great obligation ; but if 1 am cor-
Rct, if my conclusions arc properly drawn
from sure premises, then embrace my views
cordially, and we will hapj^ly walk together
in the path of truth.
fieligion denotes a system of truths of
aliieh God is the great subject — a system
d affrctions and conduct of which God i.s
the npreme object. Although truth in an
•httreet manner may exist necessarily and
iiikpeDdently of all other existences, yet, in
the lease in which it is here employed, truth,
fns in its simplest form, involves observa-
tioD sad perception of it as truth received by
Baa. Observation and perception are volun-
tirj efforts of the individual mind — actions
viiich cannot be performed by one fur an-
other; thus, all the sensible qualities of
fhj«ical objects must be observed by the
wnes, and be perceive<l by the mind, before
their nature can be understood by man. If,
Iheo, mat (era of fiict cognizant by all the
Mmes, which are the simplest funns of truth,
But be made the objects of obser\'atiun and
pneptbn, how plain is it that that im-
portsnt system of truths of which God is the
peit subject mnst be a personal and indi-
^fcil concern.
lieligion is also a system of affections and
^uct The affections are powerful attri-
^\n by wliicfa man expresses his love or
^*!nd, deaire or aversion, veneration or
i^'hdrreiioe. Conduct is understooti as the
psioniaiioe of deeds, good or evil, &c. Now
^ tbiM things are of a moral character,
^9M sudifthe possessor or subject of them
^ sloDe receive the merit or demerit which
I'^tundlv attaches to them. Xo oae can love
or hate, do good or evil, for another ; his moral
feelings and actions are his own property, and
he cannot alienate them; they are strictly
personal ; therefore religion, either as a sys-
tem of truths, or of affections and conduct,
is essentially a personal matter. In accord-
ance with this reasoning is the declaration
of Him to whom all Christians meekly bow,
when lie says (Mark xvi. 16), "//e that be-
Ueveth and it baptized shall Ite naretl^ hut he
that belifttth not nhalt bt comlemned." In
the epistle to the Romans (x. 10) we read,
*' With the heart man believeth." So (Jas.
ii. 17), "Faith without works is dead.**
Herein belief is the inward, mental percep-
tion of the truths of the gospel. Baptism
and works arc the practical exposition of the
affections and conduct having (iod for their
object, the union of faith and works as a
personal, individual matter. The sinner,
having received divine grace into his soul,
seeks to make known to others the religion
he has found so valuable to his own happi-
ness, present and ])rospective ; and this
religious exertion, having its soume in the
gratitude of the saved sinner, is consequently
voluntary — that is, dependent on the will of
the individual Christian.
The church of Christ is an assembly or
assoei^tiun of individuals who have exercised
repentance towards God and faith in onr
Lord Jesus Christ, and, consequently must
be characterized by tliose principles and
feelings which are possessed by the individual
Christian; hence it must be a voluntary
institution, whose nature, government, and
action are also voluntary, in accordance with
the well-known axiom, ** The ichole is miide
up of the sum of its part*.** Tims, religion
is not onlv a voluntarv matter as it affects
the thoughts, feelings, personal conduct, and
growth in grace of the individual Christian,
but also extends to all institutions formed
by Christians fur the propagation of Chris-
tianity.
Let us now apply these remarks to the
religious college of St. Patrick at Majmooth,
and its support by government aids. The
origin of Maynooth Collie was in this wise :—
" Drs. Troy and OTleilly petitioned for per-
mission to erect a college for the education
of IComan Catholic priests, and in the year
1 795 an act was passed in the Irish fila-
ment *for tlve bcVlcT «^\iC"a.\\o\x c!l \«rw!W»k
professing the Vo^V&Vi ox "VLQi\ii»». C^sSJmKvc
28
OUOBT THE ORASTT TO MATKOOTH TO BS WTTHOBAWW?
xeligion.* ** * In aocordanoe with thiB per-
mUsion Majnooth College was erected by the
Bomsn Catbolica. The origiiial design of
the institation is thns shown to be the edu-
cation of religions priests and others in
inatters connected with their religion. This
oonstitntes it a religions institution. Bnt
I have previonslj shown that all effort, per-
sonal and institutional, made bj Christians
for the propagation of their religion, to be in
accordance with reason and the fundamental
truths of the Christian religion, must be
Tolnntarj; therefore the government grant
in support of Majnooth College ought to be
withdrawn, all grants being destructive to
the voluntary principle, which is essential to
all religious institutions.
Another point of view from which this
subject may be satisfactorily examined by
the truth-seeker is found in the history of
the endowment. As I have before intinutted,
at the first liberty or permission only was
asked to erect a college, and the act of 1795
makes no permanent engagement or promise
of government aid ; the act oviij permits the
commissioners of his Majesty's treasury to
issue any sum, not exceeding £8,000,
" towards establishing the said academy,*' as
a matter of donation, at the discretion of the
oonmiissioners ; no annual grant, no con-
tinued support of the institution after it was
set in operation. In accordance with this
view are the remarks of the late Duke of
Wellington in a debate on the question,
April 28, 1808. He said.—-'' The fact was,
that when the Maysooth institution was first
established, it was not intended that it should
be maintained by the public purse; the me-
morial presented previously to the foundation
of that establishment prayed for a charter
in order that the funds might be better
secured." Jn this act of 1795 was the first
▼ioLition of sound principle; and from less
to more our rulers have proceeded, until
the act of 1845 has placed the institution
on its present ample and secure footing, in
direct opposition to the wishes of the ma-
jority of the Queen*s subjects in Great Bri-
tain and Ireland. Hence, by the withdrawal
of the grant there can be no breach of the
pnbUc faith — no dishonour to the legisUture,
* This and the following quotations are ttam
" The Bulwark," No. 8, January, 1863, to which
all are referred who wish to see more on these
points.
as it would only place the Roman Catholics
in the position they asked to occupy in their
memorial of 1795; that would be withdraws
which was not originally asked, nor intended
to be given. By the existence of this simple
fact a whole host of high-sounding objections
to its withdrawal, which otherwise might be
raised, are entirely prevented.
The teachings in this college are sncb as
render the withdrawal of the gnmt necessary.
The number of Roman Catholics in Great
Britain and Ireland is, according to the best
authorities, about ten millions, while the
numbers opposed to Roman Catholicism
amount to more than sixteen millions; vet
the whole of these sixteen millions are re-
quired to contribute to the support of an
establishment, to the amount of jC26,3<»0*
per annum, for the express propagation of
that which, in their estimation, is error of a
vital character, and injurious to the temporal
and spiritual well-being of mankind.
The president of the college in 1826, Dr.
Crotty, together with the professors, made a
return to the royal commissioners of the
books used as class-books in the college, and
of the standards referred to by them in the
course of their instructions. In this list no
mention is made of the Bihle as a class-book,
nor as a standard for reference, both of which
it ought to be in an institution for the edu-
cation of teachers of the christian religion.
Further, according to this list it appears
that the doctrine is taught in this coUefre
^ that there are five causes which take away
the obligation of an oath;** one of said causes
is, **the prohibition of % superior;" another
cause is, '* the making of the oath void to
him to whom the swearer is subject;" and,
observe, it is understood as spSSritmal supmor
€md spiritual subject in these sentences, as
is manifest by the illustration, ** Thus the
superior or general of all the orders of the
monks can validly, even without cause, make
void the oaths of his subjects," and his sub-
jects are the monks of his own order, no
matter where resident — ^in England, Frucc,
Germany, or America; all are in the same
subjection, and he is their superior; hence,
while the superior resides at Rome, and is
frequently a high dignitary of the Romi»b
church and state, he can absolve his subjects,
* The amoont paid ftom the revenue beCwf«u
January, 1861, and January, 18&2.
RSPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
29
the monka, from the obliga^tion of their oaths
and their allegiance to their soTerdgns.
It is also taaeht in this college, that, " as
furgers of mone^, and other malefactors, are
sielivered by secalar princes to death, much
more heretics, from the time thej are coa-
ricted of their heresy, can not only be ex-
commonicated, but be jostly slain ;" and heresy
most be understood as any deviation from
the decrees of the Romish Church, either in
retifjion or science. Galileo was declared an
heretic because he affirmed the now recog-
nUed fact that the earth revolves on its own
axis, and in its own orbit round the sun.
Again, it is taught in this college that
"the spiritual commonwealth (that is, the
Bomish Church) may command the temporal
commonwealth (the state), which i$ subject
to it, and eompet it to change its administra-
tion and depose its princes and set up others,
when it cannot otherwise defend the spiritual
good of the church." — ** If, therefore, a prince,
from being a Christian (that is, a Roman
Catholic), becomes a heretic, the pastor of
the church can abut him out by excommu*
nication, and at the same time order the
people not to follow him, and so deprive him
uf dominion over his subjects."
On these grounds I afiirm that the grant
to Maynooth College ought to be withdrawn.
For the sake of distinctness, I will briefly
recapitulate. The grant ought to be with-
drawn—
Because government aid to religious insti-
tutions is contrary to the nature of the chris-
tian religion, to reason, and to revelation.
Because, by the grant being made from
the general revenue of the country, a ma-
jority of the Queen's subjects in Great Bri-
tain and Ireland are compelled to pay for the
propagation of error.
Because the religious teachings of May-
nooth are not made from the only valid
source of the christian religion, viz., the holy
scriptures.
Because the teachings of Maynooth are
immonzi, in that they teach men to disre-
gard their plighted word, or oath : they arc
persecuting, for they teach that men may be
punished — yea, even murdered — on account
of their religious thoughts and feelings : they
are seditious, as they teach that subjects may
bo released from their allegiance by the com-
mand of a fellow-man and a foreigner.
The whole of these conclusions I believe
to be fairly proven by the foregoing testi-
mony. Allow me, then, to conclude, dear
reader, with the wish that, as we believe
" Magna est Veritas, et praevalebit," you will
join with me in hastening the time when we
may see, not only the grant to Maynooth
College withdrawn, but every governmental
grant to any and all institutions pretending
to be christian, being assured that Chris-
tianity is only vital and healthy when it is
voluntary. L'Ouvrieb.
BEPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
The Kilmamoek Toung Men's Biblical Asso-
ciation held their first annual soir^ in Nelfon-
"treet Khoolroom on Wednesdajr evening, Nor. 3,
the president, Mr. John Stewart, in the chair.
Mr. Samuel H'Gavin, the aecretary, rend the half-
TCArlr report, firom which It appeared that the
association was in good working condition. He
•l«o read an essay on ''The Prophet Samuel,"
drawing from SamueVs biography many excellent
and praedeal le§eona. After a service of fVuit,
Mr. WUliam M'Whirter and Mr. James Rankin
made some ycit pointed and practical remarks on
the snlyect of the easay. After another service of
fruit, Mr. Robert Kerr, vice-preaident, read a short
addren, in wbddi he dwelt upon the great influ-
«ncewhidi every material olgeot has upon an-
other, and the greater influence that every man
has upon his ftUow, and the atill greater influence
that great menhave upon the people— such were the
poet, the philosopher, the statesman, and the war>
lior. Samnel was a great man, and possessed a
great influence over the people ; but that influence
was exerted for the glory of Ood and the nation's
weal. As he owed that influence to his mother,
primarily, the mothers present were urged to do
as Hannah did; and the young ladies of Kilmar-
nock were exhorted to form themselves into an
association similar to that on whose account tiiey
had met that evening. Samuel would acquire
much of his mental excellence in youth^ in an
ordinary way, under the guidance and tuition of
good old Eli, the high pnest; and from this be
took occasion to address his fellow-members on
the importance of mental improvement ; first,
because it is the mind that constitutes the man ;
and, second, because time is short. In conclu-
sion, he urged them erer to strive after mental
excellence, and not to be content with present
30
BXPOIVTB OP HirrtJAL IMPROVEUE9T SOCXBTISS.
attainmonto. The pnaidaot oflkred a faw prae-
Uo»l obwrvaUunt, and eIo8«d a very intereating
and happy meeting. Hay the association ha^e
many anoh !— R. K., Jun.
Jhtndee Utermy Societies' rni(m.^Leettire by
the Rev. Qeorge Gi\filUm,^On Wetlneaday.Nov.
S4, the Rev. George GilfiUan, president of this
union, delivered, in Tay- square Chapel, the first of
a series of lectures to young man. The subject of the
lecture was, '< The Characteristios and Prospects
of the Present Age." After prayer, the reverend
gentleman proeeeded as follows :— ** Before enter-
ing on the main subject of this evening's lecture, I
I mean, first, to propound and to reply to one or i
two objections which may meet me on the three- j
hold of such a theme. It may be said, for in-
stance, that it is a sobiect too large for the grasp i
of any mUid, particularly in the compaas of an
hour ; and so it would be, did any mind attempt j
wholly to grasp it, especially in a period so brief; '
but this I am not foolbh enough to try. I wUih ,
simply to touch on some of the topmost summits
of various things, gleaming out ftom that mitt
which, more or less, enwraps all our vaJIey of
vision. I leave the cavities and the windinn of
the lower glens to be explored by them that have !
more inaight, more leisure, or more love for the '
perilous and perplexing survey. And, although .
It is impossible to exhaust in any lecture, or m '
any library of lectures, all the aspects of our won-
drous mother age, yet, perhaps a stray sentence
—a word in season here and there may cast a
little useAil and precious light upon some side-
angle or comer, or even hidden depth in the great
whole. Another and a more formidable ol^ection
to any such survey, as I propose, lies in the ex-
treme rapidity with which the most momentous
ohangca are at present sneoreding each oth^.
The aapecta of the age ! Why, every year now is
itself an age— every day, and even hour, is
crowded with events — ^sueh as of yore were thinly
sprinkled throughout centuries. How, then , Iceep
up with auoh a awilt and startling motion ? How
compute the revolutions of such a rapidly revolv-
ing and tremendous wheel 7 How daguerreotype
the features of a Proteus, who is assuming every
moment a new face? Beliering, however, as I
do, in the preralence of general laws, of fixed
trade-winds of tendency, and steady currents of
progress, or to use other and better words— in the
control, constant superintendence, and all-inform-
ing influence of a Divine mind, whose spirit at
once impels and moves in the advancing wheels
of society— I do not think myself presumptuous
in asking, however imperfectly I may answer
the questions, whitherare we apparently bound ? —
what are the general oharaoteristics, and the pro-
bable prospects, of the present age 7 Among the
prominent characteristics of the age, I name — IsL
Its disregard for antiquity growing in proportion
to its knowledge of the ages that are past. 2nd.
Its intense consciousness of itself, of its own
merits and fiiults, weakneasea and powera. 3rd.
Its universal rastleasncss, excitement, and irrita-
tion. 4th. Its tendency to run into extremes,
dtb. Its strong assertion of individualism strangely
co^existfaig with an appetence for great general
nnited movementa. Oth. Its desire to intermeddle
with all knowledge, and to press that knowledge,
if pOBsible, into a onitT, and to find for it a
centre. 7th. Its thint for change, especially in
pollikal, moral, and religious mattara. 8th. Its
fkrahooting mechanical energies and
movements, and spirit of universal enterprise.
9th. Its recognition of the vast importance of the
populwr element, and of the supreme necessity of
attending to the wanta, listeninir to the voiee, and
elevating the condition of the labouring elasars ;
and, not to multiply diaracteristics unduly, I
mention, lastly, the earnestness, the doubt, the
hope, the fear, and the uncertainty— all of which
are eombining. In unequal proportioitt, to fonn
our present strange and anomalous religions atti-
tude and aspect. From these I select what seem
to me the most peculiar, and which will be seen,
ere I close, to bear most powerftilly upon the
main ol^ect which I have in view in the whole
of this discourse. And they seem to me the
following:— 1st. The Insulated position of our
age. Snd. Its exceeding restlessness. 9rd. The
wa/ in which iu knowledge is increasing at all
points, and seeking for a unity which hitherto
it has not been able fttlly to And. 4th. Iu
singular state as to religion." On these Tarions
heads the reverend gentleman ampUtied in a long
and eloquent address, which was frequently and
loudly applauded.
Chaimert Society.— The second airaivefsary
of this society was celebrated, on the Oth of De.
cember, at its place of meeting, the Clly School,
BlackMars. London— the Rev C. F. Chase, rector
of BlackfKani, in the chair. Tea being concluded,
and the chairman having addreased the mcetiiig.
the report was read, from which It appeared that
the general results of the society's operations
were very encouraging. The number of memben
on the books was thirty-eight. During the year
thirtpen papers had been read, and three devo.
tional meetings and eleven discussions held, the
latter on the subiectii of Lord Palmenton's retire-
ment; univeraaiity of the Deluge; the Crystal
Palace and the Sabbath ; Wellington and Napoleon
compared ; the socisl influence of Calvinism ; and
the others on subjects suggested by this journal,
iu the course of which seventy-seven sp«eoh^
had been made. Two of the roemben had emi
' grated, one of whom had filled the office of seere
! tary, and hoped to spread operations of the sane
character. Addresses were then delivered by Mr.
' J. Davis, on ♦• The Society ; " Mr. J. S. Jones, ou
j "The Christian Aspects of the Age;" and Mr.
! W. Stock, on " The Future ;" in the inten-als of
j which passages from Henry VJII. and Tupper >
"Dirge on Wellingtmi" were recited by Messrs.
Stock and Silverlock with mudi taste and ftding.
The second speaker took occasion warmly to
recommend the Britith CoHtrover$i*dUt, the
influeuce of which is already manifest amonpt
the members. The proceedings eoaoludcd with
the national anthem. — J. S. J.
, PonU/lnet Mechmmia' Institute.— The aanasl
soirie of the above institute was held in the town-
' hall on Wednesday, Idth December. TliebsU had
I been tasteftUly decorated under the supcrintea-
deuce of James Rhodes, Esq., amrgeon, and pre-
sented a most imposing appearance. At the boor
of tea all availahle space was oooopied, end we
may state that double the number of tiekels
could have been sold if there had been suftrient
accommodation. After tea,Thomaa Eovtledfte,
Esq., mayor, having been called to the cbair,
addraiaed the meeting in e brief theogh pertinent
speech. After alluding to the pleasure it gave
' him in meeting such a numerous company, tnd
RSPORT8 OF MUTUAL DIPSOTBMKST BOCIETISa.
sr
toatehiafir vpon th« tkiraMages of ineeluiiiics' in-
slitatiotiB — the fnrmtifiefttion it gave him in know*
in^ tliai this institution waa in a proiiperous con-
ditton. Mad that it was progressing and enlarging
its influcnee, he concluded with a trutii telliug
appeal for inraotical support to the institution —
The raport was then read by the secretary, Mr.
J. E. Kobinsnn, and showed that the institution
was progressing, both as regards its subscribers
and ita oporatiotts. The Bev. S. Simmons then
adldreaeed the meeting, md waa listened to with
breathless attention during the course ot a long
address, in which he expatnled in a most eloquent
and mas eviy manner on the advantages of snoh
iaatituticms, touchingnpon their beneficial, morid,
•oeial, reli|nou*t aufi intelleotual tendencies. — Mr.
Traiee,froni Leeds, followed in his usual happr and
bamomas manner, keeping the audience almost
in a Gontinvied state of lauf^ter ; but yet throwing
oat some of the most sound, nsefUI. and practical
remarks. — Mr. Beaton, of Lerds, then fbllowed in
a speef h the most earnest and practical we ever
mnember to have listened to, and concluded with
that nobis poem of Longfellow, ** Excelsior."
—The Rev. T. Dennison, tlie Rer. C. Ellis, and
other frentlerom, afterwards addressed the meet-
ing, aaad were listened to with the deepest atten-
tion and delight. We romit not forget to raenticm
that the members of the Wakefirld Madrigal
Society were in attendance, and that they, along
witih our talented pianist, Mr. Jeremiah Rhodes,
contriboled much to the evening^s entertainment.
Thovfph oar new and highly-popular member for
the borougrh, B. OUreira, Esq., was prevented by
his parliamentary duties ihmi being present as
amiounccd, yet, we think, never has there been a
more interesting meeting of the Pontefract Me-
chanics' InMtntion ; and never has there been so
larjfc an attendanoa of all classes, from the highest
to the lowest.
We may state that the institoUon has a good
Kbraiy, news-room, reading-room, discussion
class, «ce. iw. The latter-named class meets every
Tuesday evening, and proceeds as follows :— One
Tnesday evening, debates; the next Tuesday
evening, recitations, and readings from the works
of oar best authors ; the next evening, d«bate ;
and the fourth evening, an essay from one of the
members , &e. Our next topic for debate is the
Life and Character of the Duke of Wellington.
The Britith Conirover$iali8t is supplied regu-
larly, and several of the members of the institu-
tion are also its regular subscribers, the numb^
of which, we are happy to say, is on the in-
crease.—J. N. C.
Jfsoirorn Jlfutual Improvement Soeiety.-~Th€
history of ttiis society presents us with notices of
many Ganges of Awtoine ; for, although at times
the society has been londlv cheered, and the
members were numerous and industrious, tmfor-
tmutely, when the eharm of novelty passed away,
many mA the soeiehr to join their old associates
•ad ponmits ; yet through all this, and through
many other difficulties, the committee, with in-
ereasing energy, determined to continue the
In Fehnnrr, 1850, there was so institution
in the town of Rouconi for the improvement of
young meiv This lade was felt by some who
wen desirous of improving themselves in read-
ioftt writing, and the elements of a sound eduea*
tion. A meeting of the young men of Rtmoom
was called, and attended by about thirty of the
** working class." The object of the meeting was
stated ; rules for a society were suggested ; plans,
&c., brought ftnward; but notnmg definitely
arranged. Another meeting was called, at whinti
there was a larger attendance than at the previous
one, and rules were adopted for the Aiture ma-
nagement of the sodetj. It was resolved that
two nights a week should be allowed for matbe-
matioal instruction and the reading of historical
and scientific works ; and that on Friday evenings
essays should be read, and occasional lectures
delivered, by the membera. The number of
members inoreased very rapidly ; in April, 16ft0,
they numbered 950 ; but the grand misfortune was,
that our place of meeting was too small. Our tiroes
of meeting were limited to three nights. In this
prosperous condition we passed the summer and
autumn of 18d0. In the spring of 1851 the number
of members began to decline. The committee,
seeing this, was determined, if possible, to revive
the interest bv establishing a reading room, which
was supplied with newspspers and periodicals.
This did not secure that lasting success which
the committee anticipated, and the members gra-
dually left the society, with the exception of about
eight, who were determined not to give it up.
They decided upon calling a special meeting, at
which only eight were present; when it was
thought fit to remodel the society and put it
altogether on a dififerent footing. To aocomplisfa
this fresh rules were necessary, and we have to
thank you for the model rules in your journal,
which is the ftwnework of our own. We deter-
mined to devote Tuesday evenings to mathema-
tical instruction; Thursday evenings for a dis-
cussion class (the most attractive l^atureintbe
society); and Friday evenings to elocution exer-
eises, under the care of the ex- vice-president, Mr.
Dillon. The number of our members kept very
steady until we decided upon the delivery of lec-
tmres. Two of these, on •• Polvnesia," were given
by the Rev. J. T. Jesson, late miasionary in
Tahiti, and president of the society, and secured
for us a few new members. After the lectures a
dlsctission ensued, viz., ** Was Oliver Cromwell
justified in signing the document for Charles to
be beheaded; and was he a Christian f" The
next questions for discussion were, *' Was Na-
poleon or Wellington the greatest general, and
which was most deserving of our esteem ? '*
** Which most deserves the esteem of mankind,
the Poet or ^eginlator?" ** Is Universal Sufln-age
just or desirable 7 " *' Would the Ballot be bene-
ficial in its effects?" " Supposing the War be.
tween the English and Kaffirs be won by &e
English, would it be beneficial to England in a
commercial point of view ? " When thMe discus-
sions were closed, a leeture was delivered on
"India" by the Rev. John Edmonds, of St.
Helen's, late of India ; after which the first social
party of the society was held in the Bethesda
schoolroom, at which tea waa provided ; and two
essaya were read by Messrs. Nield and Slade,
followed by several speeches and recitatioos of a
plsnsiug character. T|^ sulyeots of our next dis.
eossions were — ** From which do we derive the
greatest amonntof pleasure— Hope or Memory 7"
** Would an Extension of the SufiOrage be beneficial
to England 7 ** Mr. Urmm next gave a lecture on
tlie*'OiirreBey." A aecond social party took place,
and wm well attended. An easay was read by
32
REPORTS OF MUTUAL niPROVEMEKT 80CIBTUCS.
Mr. D. Speakman, Mcretai^, " On the Advanta^
derived from the Study of History." Aiter which,
Mr. Browxi delivered an eloqaent addreM ou the
beneficial effects of Matoal Improvement So-
cieties, and a second essay was read by Mr. R. K.
Naylor on *' Biography; comprising more par-
tacolarly Milton and the Men of his Times ; '' at
the ooncloslon of which recitations were given by
the members, which added much to intf>rest the
company. Mr. Pritohard delivered a discourse
on " Hope and Peraeveranoe."
The last quarter opened with a lecture " On
the Advantage arising from the Study of English
History from its earliest sources," by Mr. Brown,
when an interesting dbcussion arose; this was
followed by another on the question, " Was Julius
Cesar justified by any act of honesty in invading
the land of our foraAittiers 7 What was his aim T
Was he desirous of elevating the people, or was it
for his own personal ambition and aggrandize-
ment?"
On Friday evening, Nov. S6, the third soirie
for the present year was held in Bethesda school-
rpom, the Rev. J. T. Jesson, president of the
socie^, in the chair, when about 120 members
and friends sat down to tea. After tea the intel-
lectual business of the evening commenced by a
speech from the president, who dwelt at some
length on the importance of such societies. Long-
fellow's ** Excelsior" was then given by one of the
memben — (from this poem the ** motto " of the
society b talccn). Mr. Brown gave an appropriate
address " On the Advantages of being connected
with Discussion Classes;" after which numerous
places were recited by members of the society.
The recitations were selected f^m the works of
Shakspeare, Darwen, Byron, Mackay, C. Mat-
thews, Colman, Addison, Campbell, Hood, Long-
fellow, Wilson, &c. &c. The room was profusely
decorated with evei^reens, enclosing appropriate
mottoes. After a hearty vote of thanks to the
ladies for their kindness in presiding at the tables,
the president dosed the meeting, and the com-
pany separated, highly delighted with the enter-
tainments.
The number of members now in connexion
with the society is twenty-six, all yoiuig men of
the working class, and we have the prospect of
many more joining us. Several of the members
are subscribers to the British ControventialUt.
It wiU aflTord us great plmurare to extend its cir-
culation as far as possible, as the benefit derived
from it is very great. — D. J. S.
Birmii^fham. — We$lejf Chapel MMtual /m-
provement Society. — The yearly tea meeting of
this society was recently held, and presided over
by Mr. J. W. Felvus, who in the course of the
evening delivered an eloquent speech on know-
ledge. It appeared, flrom the report read by the
secretary, that during the past year thixty-five
sul^ects have been discussed, and seventeen other
evenings have been devoted to improvement in
elocution. Many of the members spoke on the
subject of" Improvement Classes," showing their
neoesalty for extending knowledge and tnining
the mind. A plan was alao suggested for ezten«i-
ing the society by public lectures during the
winter months, and tiia money realized by such
means to be laid out in books for the use of this
society. The society takes in two numbers of the
BrUitk Controvtniatutt and several members
an in possession of the two yeariy Tolumes. I
need hardly remark that all have been greatly
benefited br their perusal. — J. G. F., Sec.
TheMeMftu Toung Men'a Literary Society. —
I am sure that you, your readers, and iSl interested
in the intellectual advancement of mankind, will
be gratified to learn that even in India, which
English people call the land of dariEness and
heathenism, literary societies hare been founded,
for the advantage of persons in the middle and
lower walks of life. Here, at Madras, the second
city of British India, a Young Men's Literary
Sodety has been in existence for the last four
years. At first its prospects were dreary; bat
now, I am happy to say, they are cheering. At
the last anniversary meeting of the socie^. Sir
Christopher Rawlinson, Knt., our chief justice,
presided, and was well pleased with the progress
and state of the society. Sir W. Burton. Knt.,
our puisne judge, the Bishop of Madras, Mr.
Advocate-General Morton, Dr. Alexander Hunter,
the founder of the Sdiool of Industrial Art at
Madras ; Mr. Henry Mead, the able editor of the
Athetueum, the leading paper of our dty, and
several other influential gentlemen, have kindly
supported tlie society.
The object of the sodety is the mental and
moral improvement of the young men of the dty,
and this is to be efibcted by means of lectures ,
classes, and a suitable library.
Lectures are delivered before the members once
a month, or as often as lecturers can be procured.
There are not many in Madras who are capable
of lecturing, and those who possess the capabili^
are diffident to face an audience ; hepoe great dif-
ficulty is experienced, for lecturers are not paid
for their trouble, as in England.
There are three dasses in connexion with the
sodety — the Discussion, the Political Economy,
and Mie Tamil classes. These classes meet weddy,
each on a sepsrate day. They are well attended,
but not so well as they deserve. At the first-
mentioned class topics of a local or general nature
are discussed, and the debates are, at times, par^
ticularly interesting. The text-book used in the
second-named class is Burton's "Sodal and
Political Economy," one of Chambers's series.
This class is conducted on the mutual instructkm
prindple, for the want of an efllcient teacher. In
the Tamil class the Tamil language is studied
under a competent moooshee, or native teacher.
The Tamil— or Malabar language, as it is com-
monly called— is the vernacular of the atf of
Madras and nearly one-third of the Madras pre-
sidency, and is spoken by upwards often miUions
of souls.
I am sorry that I cannot give a fiivouiable
account of the library of the society ; hosrever,
measures are now in course of execution for
placing this department of the sodety 's operatioBS
in an efficient condition.
We have also a reading-room, op^n dailr, and
supplied with nearly all the local periodteau and
newspapers. The IVuatrated Lomdom iVewt,
Punchy the Weekly Newt amd Chrotkicle, ** Cham-
bers's Edinburgh Journal," and the ** Edinburgh
Review," are received regularly from ISnghmd.
The "Calcutta Review" b also in the reading-
room. Tour excdlent periodical U aobscifted
for by several members of the sodety, and they
are greatiy pleased with its oontenSi. Several of
the debated sul^fects have been dbeuaaad hi the
proper dass.
THX UTQUIBKB.
33
To entu a general intsrat in the dueuition
dan, qaaiterlj naniona are held, and certain
memboa of (he daaa plaj prominent parta in
them.
I forgot to aay ttie aodetr entirely ezdudea
leetariao newa on religion^ for it haa among ita
membera Chriataana of every denominatlott —
Europeana and their deaeendanta, who are ealled
Eurastana, or Eaat Indiana; and Uindooa and
Mahometana— 4nen of every religion, eaate, and
oolonr. Each member pay*, monthly, d^tannaa,
or one ahillinc[.
I have, I thmk, siren you anlBdent informa-
tion reapading the Madraa Toung Men'a Literary
Sodety, and trust that you will Idndly insert this
letter in the '* aodeties " portion of your interest-
ing publication, for the information of aU well-
wlshera of literary and kindred assooiatiottB, see-
ing that it haa travelled ten thousand miles ! — A
Member.
€liJ 3in|iiint.
QUESTIONS BEQUIRING ANSWERS.
13i. C. C. K. would be exeeedinffl^ obliged to
any of the readers of this periodical if thev could
inform him how to set about making a teleaoope
of sufficient power to render the satellites of
Jiqritflr, the nngs of Saturn, visible, ice; the
price, die amount of power, and every other
necessary information to be known upon thia
soWect
135. I have for some time felt it neceaaary that
I should pursue some systematic course of read-
ing, bat have been detened from doing so by not
isBowing wtiich would be the most proper books.
Perhaps some of your numerous readers would
bekindenou^ to difvctmeaa to the moat proper
books a Sunday school teacher should engage
his attention to, aa I wish to make all my studies
•observient to my Sunday school teaohinga. —
Edwaso.
130. Will any of your numerous correspondents
be kind enough to furnish me, through the medium
of the magazine, with a list of books in law and
gennal literauire, which may be read by a young
nan who is not restricted to time, but can devote
•t least eight hours a day to dose and continuous
otady?— A Law Studkmt.
137. Perhaps some of your correspondents, who
so kindly asaiat the studious, can descend to a
tvifling matter, but one which is sometimes a
C'ovne of connderable vexation to those who read
^^^nxHi^ the winter, and inform me, what is the
hot lamp for reading by 7 I want one which
u economical and givee a good light and little
trouble. I have trwd eam^ine, which anawers
die two first particulara, but requires constant
dtention to prevent it tnm smoking, and thus
tdtes the mind from the book.— L. T. L.
I should be greatly obliged if any of your oor-
'"^Mudenta ooiud fyuiiiah me with answers to any
of the following questions:—
. 138. What is the cause and nature of/09 *^^ ***''
ii^.aiiesaswell as in the country? Are the effects
*n*Ukg Anom them preiudidal to health 7 and if
■0, why 7 Why does the breath and all kinds of
^■Ponr become so eaaily visible in foggy weather 7
13B. Whidi ia the moat correct way of writing
*Bd pronouncing the name of the Arabic impostor
•ndhis followers ; and of that body of men who
*^«rlyTuledtha land of Egypt, the Mamaiukea f
140. The other day a fHend of mine stated that
*oat was logically tme waa sometimes procftcotfy
Hoe, and as a proof of hia aaseition stated that he
"OQld prove the monstrous absurdity that the
vaonis hand of a clock will never overtake the
hour hand. He said, " Siqypose (be time by the
clock is 5 minutes to 1 (or any hour you please) ;
by the time the minute nand has moved over that
5 minutes, the hour hand will have moved over
•^ of 5 mhiutea (for the hour hand moves ^ aa
fast as the minute hand). By the time the mmute
hand moves over that ^ of 5 minutes, the hour
hand will have gone over t^ of ^ of 5 minutes.
When the minute hand has got over that space ,
the other will have moved over -^ of A of ^ of
6 minutea, &c., &c. And so we mignt go on
for ever, and still the minute hand would never
overtake the hour hand." Can any of your cur-
respondents detect the fsllacy in this?— Homo.
141. I shall feel much obliged if some of your
numerous talented correspondents would be so
kind as to fhmish me with a philosophical an-
swer to the following ouciy, viz., Is the earth at
the present time any larger than it was when
Adam and Eve were its only inhabitants? I
think it will not be denied that an affirmative
reply would be somewhat plaudble, when we takt*
into consideration the iimuroerable myriads of
animals and vegetablea, the race of mankind in-
duded, which have exiated on its surface since
the creative flat of the Almighty organized the
primitive chaotic mass into the beautiful and
endlessly-diversified arrangement which we now
behold. For my own part, notwithstanding the
attempt of a (Hend to settle the question negatively,
I am still inclined to the afflimative opinion.
There can be no doubt that the greater portion of
the remains, animal and vegetable, of the inter-
vening ages of the world having become resolved
into its original elements, will have returned to
fill up the vacuum, so to speak, occasioned by its
abstraction and appropriation to the requirements
of organized existences ; vet, it appears to me
that, although the disposal of by far the largest
portion may be thus accounted for, there will still
remain something over and above this, wliich
must necessarily augment vary conaiderably, in
the course of agea, the solid bulk of the earth.
As I have not yet met witJi any one with whose
explanation I have been satisfied, I hope some of
your correspondents will do me the fkvour of
anawering this question.— J. S.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
C 2^ OKctlioiM to which the numben rt/er will
be found in Vol. III.}
103. Afonmouthwhire not in Walet. — Thoie.
who feel interested in the reoent notice having
34
nis nrQuiBBS.
T«A»ettee, in pftrt, to thn anncxmtion of Mon- {
raouthshire Ui England, will, doubt 1«k9, be
■nus«d with the follow ing indignant repodiAtion
of the oonnezion, which I extract from h letter
whieh appeared in the A'tor o/ Ovremi newspaper
of the 10th October:--
** Whereas Cambria never did $kut out her own
beautiful Oweiit fVom the prineipalily ; but, by
the bonds of historioal recolleeiions— of national
spirit and of native language, has held for cen-
tal irs, and will bold for ever, Ler thirteen oouniies
united.
" In the reign of King Henry VIII. the jtuis-
diction of Monmouiliahtre was separated from
that of Wales, and included in the circuit of the
English judges ; therefore, say some, it became
an English county ! In the present day, all the
Welsh counties are taken into the circuits of the
English judges ; therefore, according to the same
process of deduction, it must follow that the whole
principality is veritably extinct, notwithstanding
fts native population, and the title still derived
ttom it by the heir to the British empire !
** Gwent is still the Welsh name for Monmouth-
shire ; and thedistrict comprised in tiiat county has,
through all ages of the country's authentic history,
been Included within the varying boundaries of
the territory of Owent, or especially distinguished
by that local appellation. Its inhabitants have,
l^om immemorial rime, been reckoueil among the
undoubted desoenrhints of the ancient Britons.
The etymological distinctions of the Cymric race,
the hmditary preservation of their national au-
thors, the oontinned traditions of the thirteen
counUes of the principality, the works of the
bards, and the pedigrees deduced flrom the four
royal and fifteen noble tribes, constitute altogether
a mass of incontestable evidence, against which
an act of parliament, passed by a despotic Tudor,
opposes itself in vain. 60 long as Monmouthshire
continues to be inhabited by its ancient Cymric
race, it must still continue to be acknowledged by
the other twelve connties as an integral part of
the principality."— B. W. P.
114. The Deeompontion 0/ ITater.—Water is
a chemioal compound of two elements — hydrogen
nnd oxygen — in equal proportions. If we add to
water another element capable of overeoming the
affinity of its constituents for each other, and com-
bining with one of them, it is then decomposed.
Hydrogen may be obtained from water by the
following method:— Procure from a tinman's shop
three or four pounds of zinc clippings, and melt
them in a ladle ; pour the fluid metal into a mould
made in some damp sand, so as to form a eylin-
drical bar ; fksten a niece of conper bell-wire to
the end of the bar, ana eontinue it in a spiral coil
to the other end, leaving a space of the eighth of
an inch between each coil. Place the bar thus
repared in a wide-mouthed glass bottle, and half
11 it with clean water; then add one-fourth of the
nuantity of water of sulphuric aoid bv measure.
The oxypren of the water combines with the sine,
forming the oxide of zinc, and letting its co-atoms
of hydrogen free, which are attracted by the copper
wire and evolved from it. The sulphuric acid
removes die oxide of zino from the surface of ihe
bar, forming the sulphate of zino, which is held
in solution by the undecorapote<l portion of the
water. Hydrogen will be given off until the
water becomes saturated with the sniphare of
zinc ; but upon adding fresh water the aoCion re-
S
oommenoes. Hydrogen will be evolved from the
zinc without (he copper wire, but not ao fhat or so
pure. The copper wve causes a current of gal-
vanic electricity to be generated, which increaaes
the aotion upon the 1100, and Ihcilitatas the re-
moval of the hydrogen. The expen^tnre of one
ounce of zinc will yield 676 cubic inches of hy.
drogen. The gas is easily oolleoted by fitting a
cork in the mouth of the boule,with a tube thnmgh
its cf ntre, which may convey the gas into Madders
furnished with stop-cocks, or into the pneumatic
trough, whieh latter is the more preferabla mode.
Water Is also decomposed by an intensity-eorrent
of galvanic electricity. The positive and negative
wirvs of a battery should be connected with
pUtina wires immersed in a vessel containing
acidulated water. Oxygen is given off from the
poi>itive wire, and hydrogvn from the n^alhre,
boUi gases being in a perfectly pure state. They
may be collected separately by suspending over
each wire a small glass Amnel, month downwards.
The volume of hydrogen will b« found to be
double that of oxygen. There is very little dang<er
of the explosion ut the gases if care is used in thr
management of them. They should be kept in
separate reservoirs, and a portion of tba pipes
leading therefrom should have a bundle of fine
wire>gauze stuffed in light, through which the ga^^
will pass, but flame cannot Hydrogen is nnt
explosive in itself; but when mixed witfi at-
mospheric air, or in combination with oxyfan, on
being ignited the gases will exploda violently.
These gases have a great aftnity Par each alher,
or ten<lency to unite meckamiealiif, in the propor-
tion of two volumes of hydrogen to one of oxygen.
Ou passing an electric aparit through a'tabe eon-
tainmg tlie gases in those proportions (bey will
fxplodie, and unite ektmiemUy, forming water. —
F.T.A.
199. The Three moit Jtisimo PoeiM o/tke Pruemt
l>oy. —Accoiding to the adage, ** Una half ihc
world knows not what the other lialf is doing,"
the assertion in the " Eoiectio" respeoting the
avocations of our ''three most rising poets"
** seemed strange" to ouatj readera of that jour-
nal besides our friend ** Drumwhannan." The
author of that beautiAil and glosring tribute to
the ** Prince of Dreamers *' is one of the OMst
eloquent, genial, and discriminating critioa of the
da^ — George Gilfillan, of Dundee. In proof of
this, his contributions to " H<^q{'' Inaimclor,"
•• Edeotio Review," " Tait's Magaaine/' ** Critic;*
and " British Quarterly," together with his *• Oal-
leries of Literary PoitraiU," and ** Bards of the
Bible," need only to be referred to. Upon the
publieation of his first and second ^^Galleriss"
his fhme as a literary portrait painter extandvd
far and wide ; but, when the ** Bards " eame to
light, the religious and eritioal worid ware taken
by surprise, and the volume was pronomoed by
many competent judges as the best voric of the
kind that had appeared.
The ass«^on, therefore, by ooming from each
a quarter, need not startle us ; for one who can
portray the bards, prophets, and aposdes of
>' God's pecaUar peope" with audh beauty,
power, and sucoeaa, and limn the mental Tisages
and brainwork of the " great ones '* of our own
Israel with such insight and faitiiAilneae, ought
snrely to know, if any one is eapable of knowing,
who are destined to ha tiie greatest sons of Andlio
in our own day. By rLferring to Vr. OilfiUan's
THE I5QUIRBB.
35
writing* we can learn who he coiuiden these
penons to be— and thej oompose a noble triad-
vis., Philip Jamea Bailey, author of ** Festua ; "
Sydney Yendys, of Cheltenham, author of " The
Roman;" end Alexander Smith, of OlasRow,
mntbor of **A Life Drama." All three compo-
sitiona are in the dramatio form. ''Festus" is
taken from the old iMend of Dr. Faustns. ** It
i^," aavs Gilfillan, "an original production.
8ome, mdeed, hare called it a mere cento from
Goethe, Byivn, and Shelley. We grant at once
it bean a striking resemblance to^ some of the
productions of those great three ; but the resem-
blaaoe is only of a kindred subjeot, and a kindred
elevation. It U a new comet in an old sky. As
well call ' Manfred ' a copy of * Fau»t,' or
* Faost ' of ' Job; as trace * Festne ' to any slavuh
imitation of any preceding poem. It takes its
place inatantly as the law Ail member of a family
of anbltrae ecoeutrics, who have pierced more
or leas boldly into forbidden regions 'beyond
the solar path and milky way,' and whose fiery
treaaes tell, on their return, that they have neared
the ardour, now of the light that is Aill of glory,
Hnd now of the flames that shall never be quenched .
In all these, however, the argument aud object
are different ' Job ' contains a solution of the
grand problem of the recondliation of iudividual
man to God, and to the difficulties of the universe
through a divine medium. 'Faust' is a frag-
mentary attempt to settle the same question,
Mpart from supernatural aid. ' Manfred ' howls
back to both that such a reconciliation is impos'
sible, and that the riddle of the universe is abso-
lutely illegible by man. Shelley's ' Prometlieus '
is the argument of * Job' extencied from man, the
indi«idiMl, to man, the species; while Bailey's
* Faatns ' is the argument of' Job ' applied in like
manner to the whole human fomily. ' Festua ' is
a ^ype of the fall and recovery of all men. The
scene of ' Faust ' and ' Prometheus ' is in earth ;
that of * Job' and * Festos ' is (essentially) in all
eternity." Speaking further of "Festus," our
author saya :— " Its evident earnestness— its holy,
yet charitable spirit— its inexhaustible fountains
of imagery — its individual thoughts of splendour,
like spots of sunshine lost, yet living amidst the
4iark forests around— its long, sweeping passaffes,
whioh seem to grow visibly and audibly before
yoQ-Hlts infinite varied — the spirit and music of
its aongs— the living aspect of its eharacters— the
bold bat striking generality of its descriptions —
the simplicity, or force, or beanty, or languor of
ita language — the broad picture of life it presents-
prove it, apart fttmi Its theological pretensions, the
poem of the age's hope, even as * Sartor Resartus'
IS the prose rMord of the age's experience. We
»iM«lil, perhaps, forbear to add that, besides the
warm vwdictof the thinking youth of the country,
it has gained the praise of Bulwer, Montgomery,
Wilson. Tennyson, Binney, David Scott, Pro-
faaaor Niofaol, Samuel Brown, and others of equal
In eondading Ute article on Builey, from which
we have quoted, Oilfillan, in noticing other poetic
spfailB, says :—** But our greatest hope is fixed on
Sydney Yendys, of Cheltenham. This young
genyenuui has written a drama, still in MS., of
whieh Shelley hiroeelf would not have been
MhamedL*^— *' The scattered scenes of it whieh we
have seen tt« very beautiful. Rome of the pre^
sent day, and iu expected nstoration to liberty,
is the subject, and is treated with genuine poetic
feeling and patriotie fire." — " With something of
the exaggeration of youth it has a richness of
thought, a felicity of language, a copiousness of
imagery, a music of versification, not easy in any
first efibrt to be parallelled. It contains passages
of beauty or power which absolutely startle you,
and specimens of every variety o( exoellenee, from
the loAy declamation to the melting ballad. We
stake whatever critical reputation we have on the
prediction, that no recent poem, save ' Festus,'
shall make a profounder impression upon tiis
lovers of poetiy, when it appears, than ' Th >
Hi>man.' It is a very couflsgration of geniuH, at
well aa. in manv parts, a high triumph of art."
Two years alter Mr. OilAUan, in a note, saya: —
" Since the above was written ' The Roman has
appeared, and its reception has fUUy justified our
expectations. Critics of all sorts and sizes have
vied in doing it homage. Its author, like Byron,
' awoke one morning and found himself Ikroous.*
He is destined yet to do greater works than this—
yea, the very greatest" Aud now, to prove further
that these are two of " the three," our author, in
his ** Sixth Bundle of Books," thus commences : —
" Foremost amoninit tliem let us put our beloved
Bailey's 'Angel World '—beloved although we
never had the pleasure of seeing his face in the
flesh, or hearing one of his crackling puns, or listen-
ing to that louR and significant silence which is hia
ordinary mood. He and our yet dearer ^end,
Sydney Vendyt, are undoubtedly the two ri$%ng
poet* of the age. Now, why we prefer Yendys even
to Bailey is, that he seems of a healthier mould.
His thought, when it descends from heaven,
never sinks till it be lost hissing amid the brush-
wood. It clears and bums a space around it.
7ou ean track every furrow of the thunderbolt."
Having already been longer than we antici-
pated, we must crave " Drumwhonnan's" patience
" a little longer," whQst we say a word respecting
the " third risinsr poet." In OilfiUan's " Ninth
Bundle " he reviews " The Glasgow University
Album" for 1851, and (bus says:— "A young
man, Alexander Smith, belonging to their own
city, who never entered a single class, nor once
sat on the black stone, has written some poetry,
io our estimation the finest we have read since
* The Roman,' and certainly better than any we
have seen fh>m the west for many a lons^ year.
It should arouse their generous emulation as
well as their ervic pride." Again, in the " Eclectic"
for October, 1851, article " Recent Poetry," which
we believe is from tlie pen of Mr. GilfiUan, we
have a move full account of Mr. Smith :— " The
last poem in our list," says the reviewer, " is, in
many respects, a very remarkable one. In the
first place, it is stall in MS. Secondly, it is of
great and pt>culiar merit ; indeed, we have read
nothing in MS., and but little in frinU equal to
it, since ve had the honour of overlooking * The
Roman' in its embryo. Thirdly, it^ author, Mr.
A. Smith, is just twentv-one, and, from the age of
ten, has been employed ten hours a dav in a com-
mercial employment in Glasgow, and has only
the spare hours rescued ft<om daily drudgery for
eultivating his mind and muse. And yet, amid
all theae oiffioultiea, he has contrived to give him-
self a tolerable education, to read poetry exten-
sively, and to write it beautiAilly The
leading poem he has sent us is entitled ' A Life
Fragment,' and is an attempt io* set hit oym l\fe
36
THS TOU^G STUDEST AVD WRTTKR^S ASSSBTAKT.
to MMwte.' It has no plot 'Life/ mtb Bailey,
* has none.' Nor is its plan peeoliarly artistic.
Its beaatyand power lie in the exquisite thoughts
■ad images, which are seattered somewhat too
profnaelv orer its pages." After giving soree
beautilm exoerpta, die reriewer mentions ** The
Garden and the Child,'* *< whidi poem wnut be
published, although not here nor note. It mninds
ns of the style of Wordsworth's finer ballads, and
has made us both weep and thrill." A similar
sentence occurs in Oie " Tenth Bundle," and thus
concludes: — ^**Wa must, however, have done.
And now .... we simply a»k the public if they
are to pennit a jrouth of this calibre and promise
to pine away amid mechanical drudgery, and,
TNBriiaps, go broken-hearted to an untimely grave ?
we ask especially our Glasgow friencb, ever
generous and warm-hearted, to look to it, that
they neglect not one of the finest poets, perhaps —
indieed, one promiting to be the Jinett 9inee
Campbell — their ^ood ri(y hat produeed. Let not
the Ncrmon long ago prakched over the dried-up
spirit, crushed heart, water-written name, and
daisy-covered sod of John Keats, need to be m
speedily repeated.** Sndi, ** Drumwhannm," is
an outline of *' the three," and of their works.
Three mere youths; but on what themei have
they written ! Bailey says —
*' When I the boyish Itet began.
Which numbers now three years from iti jim.
Not twenty summers had imbrowned my brow.'*
And this ** feat" was a poem on the final sihv
tion of universal man. Tendys, too, was eoo-
paratively young when he caused a ** sensaikm ; *
but he had been up and doing ere thi«, for at ibt
age of seven he wrote good verses, and read ibr
deepest philosophy." When twenty-five, kh
** Roman appeared, and the hitherto unkiiovn
vouth had laudations and ealogiea showered upon
him, and was acknowledge^ as nature's child snA
freedom's bard. Smith writes not of the univene,
nor yet of a nation, but ttie history of his indi-
vidual mind. May the blessing of God rest upon,
thera, and may all expectations respeotiug their
future efforts be realized! — G. M.
€^ ^im^ ^tnknt anil Writer's issistiiitt.
This section of our magazine was opened with
the commencement of Vol. II., in January, 1R61.
Its object was to afford educatioual asaistanoe to
young people " resolutely determined on seir-
matniction and mental improvement." For the
first year it embraced only a '* Logic Class ;" but,
such was the interest manifested in it, that, with
1R52, we opent^l classes for giammar and mathe-
matics, and immediately enrolled nearly three
hundred students. The majority of these have
steadily pursued their labours up to the presoit
time, and we have just had the pleasure of award-
ing upwards of filly "prizes" and *' certificates
of merit" to those who stand highest on the re-
gistration lists. Notwithstanding the enormous
amount of labour which these classes have en-
tailed upon us, we are anxious to continue them,
and willing even to increase their number and
popularity, and we cordially invite the attention
of our readers geuemlly to the following outline
of our plans for ISSQ : —
RCLES.
1. Every reader of this magszine wishing to be-
come a student shall, with his first exercise,
forward his name and address in fUl, and
also the iniiiais. or nam de plume^ under
which he wishes his exercises to be registered
on the wnppei- of the roa>!azine, and also
state the class or section which he wishes to
enter.
3. All letters must be posted within eighteen days
of the publication of the exercises which they
contain. <
3. All exercises must be legibly written on/ools-
cop or post paper, and on one side only.
. Each sheet must be headed with the writer's
name or cognomen, and each exercise num-
bered and dated with the heading given in
the magazine.
5. The exercises for each class must be forwarder
in separate envelopes, and directed thus, with
the name of the class distinctly written: —
The Editors of the British Coutrovenialistr
6ft, Palemoster Row,
London.
• • • • CJa»t.
6. Each communication most be prepaid m fuXt,
and no extraneous business referred to.
7. Tiolaiion of these rules will entail the passing
of exercises unregistered.
GRAMMAR CLASS.
mant/or 1893.
The tutor of the grammar class,in looking back
upon the labours of the past year, feels cooTiaced
that his efi'orts have not been altogether in ^nia ;
on the contrary, he is assured, by the uuaaerovi
communications whieh he has rcceiTcd. and the
exercises he has examined, that many, both
and gentlemen, who, up to the time the claaa
established, had scarcely given the subject a
thought, have, during the ^ear, made no ineoa-
siderable progress in thb science: and be doubts
not but. during the coming year, still greater pro-
gress will be made by a to greater nnoiber «f
pupils than daring the past
Though our labours of the past year bare been
great, we cannot hide firom ourselves tiw tratb
that they must have been Ibr greater bad it net
been for the kindness of the mnority of oar ata>
dents in adhering to the rules laid down at the
commeneemeot of this class. We trust ibM tbey
will not be more remiss during the present rear.
The course which we intend to adopt daring
the ensuing year is —
1 St. To introduce a Jimior DMsiom, who will
take in order the eamreasfls of the past year.
TBX Tomro gi'UAiMi'r asd wsitbb's ASBvrAirr.
37
Snd. To condnae our oonne of exeraisei for
the benefit of our preaent rtadents, and such u
chooee to enrol tbemaelves in what we ahall de-
nominate our Senior Division,
3rd. In oounezion with these divisions^ to
poblish, from time to time, Model Bxereiees for
the benefit of stadenti, after the plan ot the ** So-
lutione " whieh ha.Te been pobliahed for the tue
of the matboBfttioal olaaa.
4th. With the monthly rcfistration we ahall,
fiom time to time, give the model number ^ i. e.,
the nmnber of marlct aecorded to a correct exer-
dae. This plan, we hope, will obviate the diffi-
ealty whieh haa freqoently arisen during the past
year with r^^ard to these numbers.
Jnnior Ditrision,
Perform ** Exerciae in Grammar, No. I.,** con-
tained in the Britiih Controvertialiit for Feb-
roary, 1853.
Senior Division.
Exerei$e§ in Gmmmar. No. XI,
1. Make a form lilce the one given, and arrange
the verbs under their proper heads : —
Active
Transitive.
Active
Intransitive.
Neuter.
Passive.
As the wind was boisterous, the captain ran the
ship into harbour. The thief ran quickly, but was
overtaken by the police. The Amazon was run-
ning at the rate of thirteen knots an hour when
she took fire. The sloop was run down in the
Channel. The Queen rales over Great Britain.
The Bible is the proper rule of conduct. The
last lines you ruled were not ruled straight. Rule
the next better. The rains of Kenilwonh Castle
tre very fine. That drunkard will ruin his family,
•s he has already rained himself. Did you hear
the bdls ring 7 They were rung in consequence
of the wedding. This ring was given me by a
dear friend. The return of Bichard was haUed
^ith delight. When do you return home? I
lutve retimied the hooka some weeks since. If
they had not been returned before this I should
have been fined. "They parted my garments
VBKmg them." When do yon part from your
brother 7 Poor Hodges' part of the prize money
vss but smalL Learu grammar, and you will be
l^le to write grammatically. ''Learn of me."
^h»j will land the cargo at the Cape of Good
Hope, but we land at Port Philip. If you wish
to insinuate that my fiiend is dishonest, say so.
Being from home when the doctor called, I could
not see him. Nothing is more erroneous than to
Kippose a man to be learned because he can talk
AsL The boy made haste on his errand, and
brought a mesaage back. The laws of Euftland
ve made by the pariiament, and assented to by
the Queen. Natnre and revelation alike speak to
w of God. The houses of parliament are being
CRtted at an inunenae cost. The son was retarn-
i»K to England when he heard of the death of his
''toOmt. When the ship had reached Portsmouth
the men were paid off. Nothing tends to rot wood
sooner than for it to be alter^tely wet and dry.
Many sheep have taken the rot through the wet-
neaa of the season. That post is rotting through
want of paint.
S. Write out the fbllowing sentences, and im-
derline the generic verb* :—
You can come to-morrow. Tour brother was
here yesterday. Do come, if you can. I had
your money. The man had heard of the catas-
trophe befom I could reach him. I am going
into the country at Christmas. Did you see the
procession ? I did. You might have seen it if
you had choaen. Joaiah must call at the office
to-morrow, aa he may be wanted. Thou aA
learned, but I am illiterate.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
In this class we contemplate certain changes,
which it may be well here to hudicate. These
changes are the following :—
1st The adoption of numbers in the Registra-
tion, aa in the granunar class.
2nd. The abolition of the old divisions of Arith.
metio and Algebra, Geometry, and Mechanics,
and the introduction of new ones, which will he
five in number, and be named the First, Second,
Third, Fourth, and Fifth Divisions. The work
of eaeh will be as follows: —
1st Division. The mechanical working of Quea-
tions in Arithmetic, and in Algebra to Equations
of one unknown quantity.
Snd Division. Arithmetic as above, with a state-
ment of the principles of the operation, and Alge-
braic Questions of two unknown quantities.
9rd Division. The work of the Second^ witk
questions in Plane Mensuration, and Equations
of three unknown quantities.
4th Division. The work of the Third, omitting
Arithmetic, and induding Quadratic Eqiuilions,
the Mensuration of Solids, and Mechanics.
6th Division. The work of the Fourth, omitting
Equations of one unknown quantity, and includ-
ing questions requiring the use of Logarithms.
SOLUTIONS.— XI.
IThe quettiffm will be found in the number for
Kbvember, 18fl2.]
Arithmetie and Algebra,
Question 40. Subtracting the principal ttom the
amount (100—5), we have the interest, 90s. Now,
in 1 year 5s, produce, at the given rate, 3d.
.'. 3d. : 058. : : 1 year : 380 years, the time re-
quired. R. T.
Question 4\, Hera jis5s.,as=I00s.,Rs: 1-05;
log. o— log.jy log. 100— log. 5
l-3oiwr-, „ij» •.?, " log^l05
-61*3g6=:61f years neariy.
•031 Itf
T.B-
Qweitton 42. Let xsthe rent of the house ;
150— X— the rent of the ganlen;
00-(150-x)Bthe rent of the field.
Now, x+ 150-X+ 90- 150-(-xr= IhO ;
from this we get xs90, the rent of the house ;
150— X, or iH)s(H), the rent of the garden;
90-608>d0, the rent of the field.
38
THE TOtTKG STUDXHT ASD WBITBRI AASXSTAST.
Que9tion43. 3 *» + 177=317,
or
or
317-3 X*
, or»"i
317-177
17
Substitute ▼alite of ) 3
If in Sn J equation /
) («)
/317-3ar«\« ,,
17 ' 3
3y« + 17xs:173,
173-3v" . 317 -17x
Qu€»tion 19. RestetAnee at 60 miles per boor,
dO*
=a0x~=ia501b.;
,ory« =
173
or
301467-5706 x«+27 x*
289
+17xsl73
X by 28» 301467-5706 X* +27 X* +4913 x=49097
Tnuuipose,&o.,27x*-5706x*+4913x=: -851470
Substitute differ- ^ 30U67-323347y«+887y*
ent values of y, \ -(6029;34-3.fi3347y«)
y«,&c.forx.. I +(49997-867 v-)= -251470
Trans- )
pose )
Contract 867 y*-867 y»=0
y*-y«=0
bslitute differ- ^ 30U67-323347y«+867i
nt values of y, \ - (6029:34 - 3.fi3347 y«)
^•,&c,forx.. ] +(49997-867 y-)= -251
867 y*-867 y» +323347 v» -323347 v*
s -301467-49907- 251470 +6U2934
y*=y*
y. = l
SabsUtute -''f^^*'+^7--=^^^
2ud equation
.^ f3xl«+17.r=17;i
y^\ 17x=irj-3 = 170
x=10)
An$.
D.D. S.
OewnHry.
Quextion^. Solidity of kemisphere,
18r>« X -52:36
2
=1657-619435 cubic inches ;
ajlidity ofoavity,
18* X -5236
s 1526-8176 oubio inches;
.'. fioliditf of shell,
= 1657-619425- 1526-8176= 130-801825 cubic iu.;
weight of shell,
130-801825x8878 «,„^,^«^.
— "it JO =672-0-24654 ounces ;
1728
weight of water,
1526-8176x1000
=883-575 ounces ;
1728
.*. weight of bowl with water,
= 1555-599654 ounces =97-224978375 lb.
W. D.
AfecAanicf.
Que$tUm 15. When the steam is cut off, the re-
50*
si'jtance of the atmosphere =33 x — =825 lb.;
fHotionrsSx 100=800 lb. ;
therefore, the work of the (rain.
8 25 +KUOX 50x5280
=7150000.
, . 50x5280 ,,«,.^
Telodtjr per nimntB= — ^ — =4400 feet ;
. 1 1850x4400 ,„.^y„
.'. hone power reqalred= — ^rr^r^ — = !»•«».
33000
vv . H. R.
Note. In this question no aoeount is taken of
resistance due to friction.
QUESTIONS FOB SOLUTION.
1. If 31b. of tea at 4s. be mixed with Sllf. tt
7s., what will 5 lb. of the mixture be worth ?
2. A garrison of 870 men is served with pro-
visions for 18 weeks ; but, after 51 days, a rein,
foreement of 500 men arrivtai. How long will the
provisions serve from that time ?
3. A man bought a number of sheep for
je3tt7 16s. ; but, if he had given 3s. per head more
for them, he would have had 17 sheep less for the
same money. How many did he buy 7
4. What will je20,000 amount to in 90 years, at
3| per cent, per annum, compound interest?
5. Required, the area of a triangle, whose sides
ore 756-871 and 965 feet respectively.
6. Also, the arm of a sector, whoee radios b 27
feet, and the angle 47'* SS*.
7. What is the soliti content, in feet, of a right
cotte,the height of which is 20 feet,aud the length
of the side 25 feet?
8. What amount of work would be required to
raine the material tor the erection of a cone of
granite of the dimensions of the above on s
pedestal 10 feet high, supposing granite to weigh
106-5 lb. per cubic foot?
9. Required, the angles of the triangle in ques-
tion 5.
*,* Answers with solutions only will not be
registered.
00
After the steam is cut off, the mean velocity of
the trainsd0-i>S=25 miles per hour ;
mean resistance of atmosphere,
sB33x~«806-3r,lb.;
friction =800 lb., as before :
therefore, the distance the train will go before
7150000 «^--«, ,
•topptng-j^.^^^— =7105-59 feet
W. H. B.
LOGIC CLASS.
In opening for Session 1853 our logic classes,
we eannotavoid congratulating ounelveA up<m the
interest which our labours have exeiti^ anongst
that large and important section of our readers-
young self-educators. SolC^ongralulatofy, how-
ever, we would not dare to be, were we nol sensible
that the very points upon which we feel proud
were those which redounded most to the advance-
ment of the highest interests of man. We are glail
that it has (kllen to our instrumentality to be pro-
ductive of such vast results. But we are insatiable
iu our desire to be usefbl. We labour ioyoosly
in the cause of human elevation ; and albeit thst,
from over exertion of mind, pain has begun to
sack the citadel of life and thought, we are deter-
mined to go on our course untiringly. Ws do
hope, of course, that our recovery is near at h«M*
and we believe that, through the exertious of oor
readers and onr students, thatmostTalutfble of sll
gilts may be made ours, a due modicum of tbst
leisure through which the mind may gain strengtb.
We want not to rtut in inglorious ease, but||to.
spend and be spent" in the *' exceisiortMliea" o>
humanity. We hope shMerely liiat our students
will be animated with like spirit as ooTsdvcs.
"The noblest mind the beat eeolnft'Daathaii."
NOTICES OF BOOKS.
89
Oui^JuirioB Class" » inUtnleil tobect>in.
P«««l of those who are merclv " iRarning ti>
Uiiiik,''h>arniiiff to gain commuinl over their inti'l-
kcuial fu'aliieii^ fl«iiruus ofacquiriiii; rlose pow er
of itteDdun ; trom tbow we tlo not wUh orifrinul
tbwKhtor 7>in]|»o»iui>n, but we sliall be i-fintcntcil
»UU mti-il>)rt;M answeni in M^* unrdst n/ the
«rtifiW en *• Tkf Art of H^stmin;/." Not that
vewiHilJiro.iM-ribelhewokiKbly valuiiblcrjuuliiie!!, '
Wttlut He desire to secun; such a cliUMitiiTation
ofifi'lents as khail lie most etpiable. ThoHc pus- ,
*^*>ei\ o( ilie ytower of original thought, and tin* '
oiiofity of oi imposing with loK-rable correctne.sH,
uuKhttu.johi the Pruvecrtior ClH.'iy.
Thf. Pkoveci lOR Clans will be calli-d upon to
pwfonu ih*; txertves nlrtaiiy tjivai to the studen's
;»f the lojT'C class diuiug «i!<*sion lK>l-.vj. Inij'ly-
iiu; oritrinul thought and ci.miiohiiioii; it bcin^
optional Mhether the ojiiuinns contained in th«-
«t»cle^ rrfrrrcd to be ui ail ca«es adhered to.
Vwh:^ not highly ilistingiiLshcd in last seniiiun
flojrhi to revunie their studies in this cla^s.
tuK SKXion Class will imply oMginality of
l^Nfttit-piiwcr of metaphysical sperulaiion/cn-
I^ityoitbought-utirranre'.and gouerally a tal« nt
^lb«' formation of tlioughr, the following out •>!'
iDTMtitnJnn procesHes, and the ability to uittr in
vwisihe workings of tlie mind. Intending »tM-
<^t» niu^t venii their names and ndilresAcs. in
Wl, Kith ihi'ir first exerciMei, by thi- iHUi in^t.,
■J coi-iiiuie to forward lliem rt-irularly umb'r
Fatlty Iff Ions of marks (br each ab»enre.
JnxiOR Class Kxisrcisk. — No. I.— By w]i:it
"jouw Las man a prefent position W*m ait'uin«-.| 7
*kt: i< iMirident to humanity '.' Wh:it would life
W sitliuai the aid of r^.Moning? In what
branches of life is the art of reaaiming unrrq>Aired 7
How run the utility of logic be proven ? On what
does every "art" (fepend ? Wltat does logic sig-
nify ? What is truth ? What are the intellectual
powers ongaired in its dbcovery ? What is per-
r^pti\-ity? Judgment? Kutiocinotion ? Method?
What ait! their n'«fpective olfices ? These iiuerie.)
are to be nnswertd with reference to the page of
the edition of the llrst volume of the JirilishL'on-
trnrtrsialist usetl by tlie student.
PsoTRCiioB Class EXEBCISE.— (See Vol.11.
p. id.)
Kkmor Class Kxhrcisf. — ^Whntare the evi-
dirui'PM of ilu' existenre of mind.' (See Payne's
" J:lementt of Mental and Moral Science," chup.
ii. ; Young's •* J.ectures on Intellectual PhUosii-
phy," led. iii. ; ])n)wn's " Philosojdiy of the
liumanMiud."lect. ii.; Ueid's " Inquiry.'ehap.i.
jtecL ii. ; " Intellectual Powers," £s^ay i*. ehap. v. :
Joiiirrovfl " MiUiod of Philoso|ihirol Stuily, ' prc-
(ao<> t«) lii.s tniuHliiiiou of Dugald Stewarts *' Out-
lints of Moral Pbiio«ophy ;" Abercrombie's " In-
tcliictuid Powers," pp. 10— :2i: I.ord iJroucrhtun'n
'' I'isiourse on Natural Theology;" Dugald
StewartH'" Adive Powirs' and *' Elements of thu
Philosophy of the Mind," &e., jcc.,for proofsand
illustrations.) Reference must be cureiully made
to all ipioiations.
Wi? h'ij)e u largo ninnbrr of our rcoiiers i^ill at
onre determine ujion joining these clii.H8es,audpcr-
stvoriugly labour thmughout tlie vourse. Such
.studies arc vastly u^^eful. Thoughts are the seetls
of actions. Contemplation ripens them, and we
become iiuulificd to do our part in the theatre of
tlie world.
3h\m nf I'oDku.
Tk* Social I*o$itioH and Claimt q/'IiooK.Kt:rptrit
M'i Clerks Citnniderrtl. By J. 8. llarruon.
I^nJoii : Hamilton, Adams, and Co.
Ve bhve here a pamphlet, written in a plain
W eariie<it st.rle, on what must be regarded as
Mcof Uie soLiul evils of the day, viz., the uu>ler-
HfBfni of clerks and book-keepijrs. The writer
*iM*» that Uie qualiiications usually required of
Ane iinUviduals are, that Uiey shoiibl be men of
><ipM4hiiiiy.education, and a<ldres:k; but that, at
te wne time, their remimeration is Irequently
■m neagre. He also diipicts the eflfoccs of thii
gflgpon fiimiljr relatioushiiis, social duties, and
■"HDlcUisI impruyemeot : and concludes with a
■VMAsible remarks respecting society generally.
ni following extract will illustnile llie line of
*lvaent pursued by the wiiter : —
Itmutelmrlybe advantageous to employers
^ Iheir book-keepers ami clerks shouM, to a
'^Hsmlile extent, be placnl beyond pecuniary
*m ind anxiety — that they should exercise a
9teof salisra«;tiim and devotedness toward tlu-ir
■^MMi, and feel id<*nlified wiili ba^iness duties.
^BMire tnt\y a man ran apply him^df to hit
*I1> lueuta without any withdrawing cause, the
*^ AiUy will bis efforts be successful.
iJ|B«t, hiAleaii of the mci>uraging effect arising
'l^mch hel^l source, tie low remuneration
^ bc^teiidx P'*^*^ ^^ necessity oltfiitimea jn-
•Iiices, evon in the most careful and truthful
minds, a feeling of <ieciiied separateness, dihutfec-
tion, and inditr-rmau;. A stern, austere, and
scoMinir pr>/ssure, with tlie view of keeping up
appticutiou and i-flort, is neither so humane nor
so Just, nor, with iv.spect ti.) right-minded persons,
is it likely to be so fully nuri^ejisful, as that re-
ferivd to above. It muy be mentioned that, as
low-price^ articles are oHcn anything but really
rheup, so it may be greatly questioned whether
principals reolly derive any ultimate advantage
irom aiioptinv low salurics.
" Many in this occupation, owing to the great
difliculty they ha^o in honourably living, con-
tinue in a state of unscttledness and indecision.
They are preventeil from g>ving tlieir undivided
energy to tbeirtenjKagement from the pressure of
xocial ditri«;ul:ies an«l the necessitjr of watchiug
for some means of bettering their sitiuition, or by
which they or their wives miaht earn sometliing
ad'liiional wherewith to provide nusonable and
needful comforts— it may be nometiuies even ne-
cessaries. Tniilesmen in dealing wi- h commercial
travellers, atler having rau%~assed tlie quality and
price of gooiis or sauiples which may have been
Difered to their notice, on being assure«l that the
state oi the market will not allow of a lower (vvcocco
being charged, sume\'\in«a «ay , * ''N «\\, 'w* "Wv^ \»
live and let live," tuwl vtov««OL vo ^n* ^i«fa ot\« .
40
XOnCBS OF BOOKS.
This principle betn itt own oomnejwith it, and
it the creed of ereiy one theoiedcaUT ; but. aa
applied in iti bearing on some of the class under
oonsidaration, however diflinent may be the intent,
the effect is rather nominal than real."
The wide circulation of the pamphlet amongst
employers oannot but be produetiTe of good.
A Dictionary of the French and EnglUh Lan-
guage*. In Two Part*. French and Eng-
«t«A, Englith and French; with Vocabukuy
q^ Proper Name* for the u*e q/* School* and
General R^erence*. By G. Surenne. Lon-
don: OliTer and Boyd.
This will be a ns«nil work to those of our
readers who are attempting to master the mys-
teries of the French language. It may inspire
confidence if we state that the author is a French
teacher in Edinbuigh, Frendi Master iu the
Merchants' School, and Lecturer on Military
Antiquities in the Scottish Naval and Military
Academy, Corresponding Member of the Gram-
matical Society of Paris, and author of the
Standard Pronouncing Dictionary of the French
and English Languages.
Ca»*e1T* Edition of Euclid. The ElemenU of
Geometry: or^ the Firtt Six Book*, with the
Eleventh and Twelfth qf Euclid, from the Text
of Simp*on.
Euclid for One Shilling ! Few expected this ;
but it does honour to the enterprise of the pub-
lisher, and speaks well for the growing intelli-
gence of the people. Where a supply is oflbred
on such terms an immense demand most be
realised or serious loss will be inflicted : to pre-
vent this, we thus spontaneously draw the atten-
tion of our readers to the volume, and recommend
it especially to the junior members of our mathe-
matical dass. *
Uncle Tom'* Cabin; or, Negro Life in the Slave
State* qf America. By Hamet Beecher Stowe.
Various Editions.
It would be simply absurd to attempt to intro-
duce this work to the minority of our readers ; but
it is just possible that some friends in remote
parts of the country may have but a very imperfect
idea of its character and fkme. We well remember
the glowing terms in which an American traveller
referred to it some time before it made its advent
in our hemiRphere ; our expectations were raided
very high, but they were more than realised in
the perus^ of the work. In character and repu-
tation it is the most wonderfiil book of the age.
Although so reeentlv a stranger amongst us, it
must now number its readen by millions, and
these are of every age and elass. If auv ** Rus-
ticius " has not read the book, we should recom-
mend him not to think of appearing in any social
circle during the present season, lest the ikct
should come out to his own disparagement
The Element* of EucUd for Beginner*. De-
aigned for the Upper Glasses in Elementary
Schools. By Jacob Lowrea. London: Long-
man and Co.
Although this little work was primarily intended
for pupil-teachers in the third year of apprentice-
ahip, it is an excellent fint book for junior stu-
deufei iu geometry, and will well serve the purpose
of an introduction to advanced works on geometry.
A Story <(f a Familp Party; embracing tin
Famaiar Thing* qf Chrittma*. London: Bsll
and Co.
This is a book for the season. Ml of rage*-
tions for inuoomt mirth and improving pastime.
Firetide Harmony; or, Domeetic Recremiion in
Part-Singing. By Helen S. Hersehell. Third
Edition. Ldtadon : Partridge and Oakey.
"Fireside Harmony.*' We like the title, and
believe that the little work is worthy of it. We
commend it to the notice of all nannonlow
families. _^
Michaud:* Hi*toru cfthe Cru*ade*. Translated
from the Frenen by William Robaon. Three
Vols. London: Boutledge.
This is a good tnnslatiou of a valuable woric— a
woric which will be perused with interest by sll
the readen of our recent debatea on this subject
Elocutionary Manual; the Principle* of Articu-
lation and Orthoepy^ the Art <J Reading and
Geeture; iOuttrated by TaUett^oteMont^and
Diagram* ; with Exerei*e* in Expreeeioe De-
livery, and a Copiou* Selection qf Extract*.
Emphaeixed.and Rhetorically PunctueUed,em-
bodyit^ the Language qfthe Paaeion*. By A. M.
Bell, Professor of Elocution. Hamilton and Co.
We have been ftvquently asked to recommend
a good work of this eharaeter, and we have much
satisAMtiou in drawing attention to the one hefore
us. It eontains many rules for young Rheto-
ricians, which they would do well to study, but
not slavishly follow.
The Univer*al,EtyiMtogicalf Teehnoloffical,an^
Pronouncing Dictionary of the Ei^lith Lan-
guage, with all Temuueedin Science ^ Litera-
ture^ and Art. Vol. II. By John Cndgi Es%.
London: Boutledge.
This is an important work, and will be highly
valued by all who ara fortunate enough to obtain
it. The author says that he found Uie existing
dictionaries of the Englbh language quite in-
sufficient for the purposes of scientific lecturing,
as they did not elucidate the terms made use of
in the various branches of natural history and
science. A perception of the deficiency led him to
attempt to supply it, and he undertook to comj^le
a dictionary comprehending all the sdentifit
terms ititroduced into the language since tht
days of Johnson and Walker, and also to represent
the pronundailon in a more simple manner than
had hitherto been adopted. Such was our au-
thor's object, and we think he has satisHiotoril;
accomplished it His dictionary twntains all the
terms used in medical scitoce, law, botany, sea
terms, soology, mineralogy, and other sciences,
while special attention has been given to trad*
and commerce, with a view to meet the wants of Ihr
operative, the engineer, (he clerk, and the shop*
keeper. The author tells us, it has been his object
to render the work useful " alike for the workshop,
the couTitin^-housc, the class-room, and the study."
The work is comprised in two volumes of 1,100
pages each, and its price is two guineas.
EjIBtnrir.
BT THE AUTHOR OF "THE AST OF HBASOXISTO.
No. XIV.— POETRY.
"SoxG," says Campbell, "is the eloquenco of Truth;" and Wordsworth affirms that
Poetry is " the finer spirit of nil knowledge, the impassioned expression which is in the
countenance of Science." Having such Touchers for the accuracy of the opinion pro-
molged in our previous paper, we think we need have little fear of being regarded bj
our readers as
*' One to whose smootb-rabbed soul can cling
Nor form nor feding great or small,
A retjsoniny, self-sufficing thing,
An intellectual all-in-all."
There are periods in the life of every human 80ul«when the emotions and the intellect
are simultaneooaly stirred, as leaves by summer winds, and when it feels that it is dull
" To live in the common world, and talk in words
That clothe tlie feelings of the fHgid herd."
When we have acquired some grains of truth-gold; when wonder, admiration, worship,
love, enthusiasm, "joining their fire-tipped wings," form a heraldic device in our souls,
which we desire to accept as our life-badge; when all things talk thoughts to us; when
everything seems good, and lovely, and immortal, and our minds are quick with the
thunder thought and lightning will, Poetry lives in and permeates us.
" Oh, I remember well,
When, like a sea- shell with its sea-born strain,
My soul Bje rang with music of the lyre,
And my heart shed its lore as leaves their dew^
A honey-dew— and tlirove on what it shed.
All things I loved ; but Song I loved iu chief."
Thongb all do feel poetic thoughts animating them, yet to many, vciy many, they must,
by the necessities of their condition, almost ever remain sources of seldom analyzed
delight; and though many may be able to say of Poesy,
" She doth tell me where to borrow
Comfort in the midst of sorrow,
• • • •
She could more inAise in me
Than all natui^^'s beauties can
In some other wiser man,"
yet " the power to make others see these objects in the same poetic light is wanting,^
while it is only od a chosen few that Katnre bestows not merely " the vision and th«
H
42 RHETORIC. — NO. XIV.
facnity diyine/' bat also the ability to embody their thoughts in language as mdodioos as
the whimpering of streams in heaven.
We have asserted that " Science is the origin of Poetry" — that all real Poetry has fact
for its primary tubttrutwn — that its foundations are bnilt upon the eternal granite of
Tmth. Bat man is both a ratiocinative and emotive or imaginative being. The totality
of the human soul demands culture. While we maintain that an accurate knowledge of
the Science and " the Art of Reasoning" ought to be acquired by the people, we are by no
means desirous of excluding the emotional elements from cultivation, or subordinatiog
them to any other partial mind- culture. We believe that Poetry is
" oidy heard
When the •onl tetkn to hear ; when all is hushed
And the heart listens ; "
and therefore that the mind ought to be trained to appreciate the melodies which all things
utter to the earnest soul. The mind of man is not all made up of Logic; but the whole of
the faculties are under the dominion of the logical powers. Not even in the wildest brain-
fancy can we be emancipated from the necessity that is laid upon us to obey " the laws
of the Reason." We may, indeed, assume as premises whatever facts we choose; we may
operate with or upon any existences which the imagination is capable of fabricating out
of the elements furnished to it by experience ; but the actions which they perform, and
the effects produced upon them by the influences and events which the poet employs, must
be rigidly consistent with the logical perceptions of the mind. Hence even Poetry must
be logical. '' Everything really elegant or sublime in composition is ultimately refemble
to the principles of sound Logic; those principles, when readers little think of tbem, have
still a latent force, and may be traced, if sought after, even in the politest of writers. By
reasoning of this kind an important union is establibhed— the union between taste and
truth. This is that splendid union which produced the classics of pure antiquity; which
produced, in times less remote, the classics of modem days ; and which those who now
write ought to cultivate with attention, if they wish to survive in the estimation of pos-
terity. Taste is, in fact, but a species of inferior truth. It is the truth of elegance, of
decoration, and of grace; which, as all truth is similar and congenial, coincides, as it were,
spontaneously with the more severe and logical, but which, when destitute of that moit^
solid support, resembles some fair but languid body — a body specious in feature, but
deficient in nerve — a body where we seek in vain for that natural and just perfecticm
which arises from the pleasing harmony of strength and beanty associated."* Fancy
may be luxuriant, and Genius prolific; but Reason, however silently and imperoeptlbly she
may work, has to prepare and correct the natural fertility of the soil, and to assist in
nourishing the production till it ripens into its full maturity. It has to adjust the pro-
priety of the inventions, to rectify the falsities of taste, to arrange the order and succession
of the parts, and unite them into one consistent wholef We difier in our opinions upon
this topic from Lord Bacon, when be says, '* Poetry is a kind of learning generally confined
• Harrb's " Philosophical Ammgemcnts," p. 46R.
f Tsthais's « Chan and Soalc of Truth," vol. i. chap. viL seci iii. p. S97.
sBXTORic — ^iro. xnr. 43
to the nMoare of words, bat otherwias extremolj HoentiooS) and tndj belonging to the
ImagiDatioD, which, being unrestrained Iff lawt, rtmj make what muiatnral mixtnreB and
septndoiie it pleases."* The Imagination is not lawless. It is true that it can make
sack ''miztmvs and sepamtions as it pleases;" but it is not correct to saj that these may
be " mmaiwraV* Neither is it accurate to ssy that Poetry is ''generally confined to the
measore of words;" this were to make the poet a mere word-mechanist — a nomberer of
syOables and arranger of lines, learned in dactjles, spondees, and iambics, rather than
God-inspired, and fed
« witfi daintiest Caitaly's moit sUver dews ; "
a spinner of word-net-woik, rather than
** Brarelj ftmxiBhed all abroad to fling
The winged shifts of tntth.**
The poet looks npon Nature with a critical eye, and passes it through the alembic of
his mind in order that it may be purified and refined — that the evanescent may be purged
wholly therefrom, and that the absolute may remain. He selects, combines, and concen-
trates aU those elements of external objects which are agreeable to the emotion by which
he is at the time ruled, and excludes all those which would interfere with the harmony of
the external and the inward. When all those exquisitely- chosen elements are colligated
together they constitute the ideal, in which the poet delights. It b all Nature; but it is
Nature perfectioned — Nature beautified and glorified by emotion — Nature harmonized and
made congenial to desire — ^Nature
** ConveniDg with the mind, and giying it
A lirelier impulse and a dance ofthoughtJ*
Poetry may be defined as the vocal expression of human emotion, heightened and per-
fected by the co-operation of the intellectual faculties, for the purpose of producing that
commingled emotive and intellective pleasure which is denominated delight
We do not, of course, propose this as an all-perfect definition, but as an approximation
towards correctness. It would be easy for us to fiy into rhapsodies, and define Poetry as
a distillation of all that is ethereal in humanity — the concentrated essence of thought —
the rose-odour of the intellect — the breath of the divine in man — the aurora borealis of
the soul — ^the efiinence of genius — the lingering remnants of paradisaical bliss — the mar-
riage of the lightning of thought with " the music of the spheres'* — the daughter of the
aogel-tribes who people the celestial galaxies — shreds of the songs of the seraphim —
" A bridge of rainbows, thrown across
This Tale of tears and sighs ; "
hut, u such similes can convey no definite notion to the mind, and merely offer the
phantasms of fancy for the instmction of the intellect, we refrain from employing them,
and prefer confining our efibrts to an endeavour to give such a definition as may
enable ns to draw a boundary-line between Poetry and every other species of composition.
That this is a difficult task we admit, because human nature, as a whole, is poetical. In
* Baoon's ''1>e Angmentis Sclentiarom,** The Distribution of Knowledge in Partioalar Sciences,
•«ctii.; Woito,VQl.i.p.a«.
44 RHBTORIC. — ^KO. XIV.
each exertion of its activities the emotions act also; and thus there are few intelfigentij
acts which may not give rise to poetical expression.
The chief themes of poetry are innocence, love, mrality, and piety: other passioQ& <
darker and of goiltier kind have found, and may find, expression in verse; bnt, to be tralj
poetical, they must, like the shades in a picture, be employed to give greater prominentt
to the pore emotions —
" For our divine affections, like the spheres.
Move ever, ever musical."
We shall now endeavour to point out a few of the demarcating characteristics of Poetir
I. Po€try must he Emotive. — Man, though fallen, can never wholly lose the impress oi
divinity— can never wholly become dead to the perception and appreciation of moral trutii'
The temple of the human soul is a ruin ; bnt, ah ! how glorious even in its desolatira aDtl
decay! Though the shrine is desecrated, the voice of the oracle may yet be heard within
it — though deserted, some memorials of its holiness remain. Moral greatness is cerUiolf
not ours, but our sympathies gravitate towards it — it is the magnet which can attract tbe
precious, though concealed, riches of our hearts out of the valueless mass of semi-pollotii^
in which it lies. Our higher nature repudiates impurity even while our lower oatore
wallows in embrutedness. Were we wholly vile. Poetry were powerless; were we perfect,
all would be Poetry. It is because man vibrates between the godlike and the demoniac
that Poetry is necessary. Poetry, by calling forth his emotive energies, becomes a tbio;
of power. By inflaming the soul with desires and aspirations connected with the beaatifol
and sublime in morality, it makes us feel enjoyments immeasurably superior to any seoaual
pleasure which can ever be partaken of by mortal man. The mystery of sin and sorro^;
strange as it may seem, is closely connected with the Poetic. The etheriality of PoetrT
would have been the reality of life and emotion, and desire could have had no place io tlt^
mental economy of man, where all was superfluity of bliss — a perfectly exhaustless tres*
sury of joy. Bacon was right when he said of Poetry, that " it has something divine is
it;" and this same sentiment has been repeated by Philip James Bailey, in his "FFoem
4o"Festu8,"thus:—
" All great lays, equals to the minds of men,
Deal more or less with tbe divine, and have
For end some good of mind or soul of man ;
And it is joy to thiulc that iu every oge
The greatest works of mind or band have been
Done unto God. So may they evt-r be !
It shows the strength of wish we have to be great,
And the sublime humility of might"
This divine and godlike effluence, which permeates Poetry, results from the emotioc^
These enable the poet to shape his sensuous imagery into spiritual meanings, and '^ toioco^'
porate the everlasting reason of man in forms visible to his sense, and suitaUe to »•
Under their commanding control, the materials laid up in his imagination are so difpo^
and arranged as to add to the intrinsic value of his thoughts by tbe fulfilment of an exalte
purpoaej viz., the elevation of the human race to the perfection of their natnie* ''^
'infonmng purpose" of the poet Te%M\la itom qa organization of mind pecoliarly seiisl'^
towKrda the relations 'which suWiat\«\.i«%^^^V\ii«^\£vQiii^wA.Ts«XKMl5*i^^
RnETORIC— NO. XIV. 45
' * The world is full of glorious likenesBes.
The poet's power is to sort these out.
And to make nlusic from the common strings
With which the world is strung ; to make the dumb
Earth utter heavenly harmony, and draw
Life elear and sweet and harmless as spring water
Welling its way through flowers."
II. Poetry must be Truthful — Truth may be considered in seyeral points of view, viz.,
pbyrical, moral, and philosophic truth. The first is the trath of science, the second of good-
ness, the third of beautj in its most extensive sense, viz., the perception of the harmonj
of creation. These form a progressive series, each higher presupposes the lower. The
tmth of reali^ is the foundation of the truth of morals; for morality is called into action
bj real things; and the tmth of Poesy, colligating the moral feelings with the external
realities which excite them, produces a new truth, the truth of harmony. It looks upon
the world without, and, under the emotion which then rules the soul, gives to
" One brief moment caught from fleeting time
The appropriate calm of blest eternity."
Poetic tmth originates in reality, and man becomes emotive and harmonic.
** It is tiie possible compared
With what is merely positive, and gives
To the conceptive soul another heaven —
A higher, ampler heaven than that wherein
The naUons sun themselves."
Has not Shakspeare refined historical trath into Poetry in "Macbeth'* and "Lear;
Milton, moral tmth in ''Paradise Lost;" Hood, social trath in "The Song of a Shirt"
and " The Ladies* Dream;" Tennyson, metaphysical tmth in "Locksley Hall?"
"Facts are indisputable things;" but their reasons, tendencies, and consequences, are
disputable. Now this is exactly the point at which Morality and Poetry take the facts
from Science. Diderot traly says, " The connexion of events often escapes otur observation
in nature, for want of knowing the whole combination of the circumstances; in real facts
we only see an accidental occurrence of things; but the poet wishes to show, in the texture
of his work, an apparent and sensible connexion ; so that, though he is really less trae, he
has more the appearance of trath, than the historian." The connexion of the visible, the
moral, and the intellectual worlds, is exhibited by the poet in graceful interfusion,
'* And space and time
Vanish before that enei^ sublime.*'
The tmth which is required of the poet is the trath of probability and possibility — a
logical consistency between the influences produced, the circumstances in which they are
produced, and the characters upon which they are produced.
'* He who the vanishing point of human things
Lids from the landscape— lost amid the sky,
Has found the ideal which the poet sings-
Has pierced the pall around his senses thrown
And is himself a poet— though unknown."
46 BHBTOBIC. — ^HO. XIV.
The highest praise which the maUer of Poetrj can recave iSi that it is tnte ; trae to
the conditions, given or receiyed, which tlie understanding accepts as inflnendog the
beings or circumstances which the poet creates. The more closelj the poet adheres to
Nature and Reason, the higher is the pidse deserved and given, provided it be Nature
emotivelj viewed, t.e., idealized; otherwise, prosaicality is not the worst name it deserves
and gains.
III. Poetry must differ in iU Language /ram Prose. — Science exhibits tnith in the
abstract; Prose is the expression of the truths of science as seen bj the Intellect; Poetiy
is the expression of science as viewed hj man's emotional nature. Beason is the primum
vfobile in the one; Feding in the other. The transparency and straightforwardness of
Prose is, therefore, alien to the spirit of Poetry. Poetry difiers in ita language from Pnee
in the following among other particulars: —
1st. In the Choice of Warda. — The emotions are the mainsprings of many, if not ill, of
our most interesting associations. Henee the effect of words in recaUmg associations, and
thus re-exciting emotions, is great The strangely magical power of diction depends upon
its capacity to produce emotive activity — to stir the heart —
" As if with unseen wings
An angel touched its quivering strings.'*
As a general rule, therefore, it may be said that, in Poetry, all such words as are not
capable of strongly exciting the desiderated emotion ought to be avoided.
(a) Terms relating to commerce, trade, business, professions, mechanical or artistic
arts; in short, all technicalisms, and words expressive of the familiar relatiooB and circum-
stances of life, are, in general, unfitted for poetical compositions.
(b) Phrases current in ordinaiy life, newspaper phraseologies, and those polite refine-
ments of obnoxious terms prevalent in society, are, ns a general rule, to be excluded from
the poet*s lexicon.
(c) Studiously simple phraseology is equally unfit for giving expression to poetic thought
as frothy, far-fetched, and pompously-inflated verbosity.
{d) Although generic terms, and such as possess a comprehennve signification, are not
improper in verse, it ought always to be remembered, that the more specific the meaning
of a word, or collocation of words, is, the more vivid is the impression made on the emotive
faculties.
(e) Such terms as are specially connected with associations of the kind sought to be
produced ought to be preferred to any others.
C/) Words possessed of harmony of sound and sense ought specially to be adopted.
Vhrid emotional sensibilities, a correct and extensive knowledge of words and their mesn-
ings, an acute ear, and a well-cultivated taste, must, however, in all cases, lead to the
employment of the most suitable language.
2nd. In the Coltocation of TTord*.— Greater freedom of collocation, more violent inver-
sions of the grammatical order of words, and greater variety of syntactic structure, is per-
mitted to Poetry than Prose, because the different emotions are greatly unequal in their
mode of expressing themselves; e. g^ anger is rugged, abrupt, and disconnected; grief is
slow, monotonous, and reiterative. To gi%'e t» words that emotional expressiveness, the poet
BRKTOBIC. — ^KO. XIT.
47
is privileged to make oertain departnns from the nsnal proeaic stractare. The manner of
thought is difierent, and the form into which the thooght fsuihiona itself diffefs likewise.
Heme originates wrse. The same emotions are always similar in their manifestatioDS.
To create sjmmetricalitj of expression is, therefore, a necessity of the soal. As the tide of
feeling rises or falls, so does the stnicture of the verse ebb or flow. The voice and the
hesrt consentaneonsly co-eperatCi and the ear, partaking in the general sympathy, eom<-
manlcates a perception of its gratification. Poetic harmony, or rhythm, is the responsive*
ness of the sound to the sense; in other words, the saitability of the language to the
emotion. Into the mechanism of versification, however, we cannot, in this brief scries of
articles, ent«r. It seemed to ns necessary to signalize the canse of the verse-structure of
Poetrv.
3rd. In the use of Figurative Language. — The Emotions look upon things in the con-
crete— Intellect in the abairact ; hence the vivid reality which poets give to their thoughts
as compared with prose writers. The use of figures is certainly not denied to the prose
writer; but they must be used sparingly. They are the staple of the poet's mode of
thonght>communication, which is " of Imagination all compact." A constant and per-
petual implication of intellectual perceptions in sensible signs — an interfusion of speculation
and perceptual phenomena, embodied in and expressed through the objects of sensation —
pervades the whole of Poetry, and U a markedly differentiating feature between it and
Pros^ We refer to a future article on " Figurative Language " for a fuller development
of our ideas on that topic than can be accorded it in an incidental notice like the present.
The several species of Poetry may be thus exhibited in a tabular form, preparatory to
a more lengthy exposition of the peculiar qualities of each, which on a future occasion we
may attempt, viz. : —
1. Lyric.
Odes.
Ballads.
Songs.
Sonnets.
POETRY.
2. Epic.
Htstoriral.
S«iDi>bi9toncal.
I'ictiUouy.
3. Dramatic.
Melo-Jrama.
Force.
4. Didactic.
Sotirio.
Narrative.
Fabuloos.
IiMcripUve.4 _ .
I Epigram.
Snpred.
6. Descriptive.
I Undramattc.
1 Semi-dramatic.
Nautical.
Reflective.
Postoral.
Onr cloeing remarks most be few. In treating such a subject as the present, great
temptations were certainly held out to us to perpetrate some of those turgid sentences
which critics of a certiuu class are desirous of having regarded as proceeding from '* the
divine insanity of genius," but which ought truly to be denominated the fever-frenzy of
the woold-be fine writer. Some of onr readers may wish that we had done so. We lunn
chosen the more useful, if the less dazzling, course. In speaking of Poetry, it is easier to
dash together a multitude of confused and contradictory epithets of astoni^ihing sonorific
power, than to sit patiently down, bring it under the scrutiny of the reflective powers, and
MtcmpI to trace the logic of its birth, and the constituent elements which compoae iL
48
IS THB STRICT 0BSERVA:CCE OF A SABBATH, AS ESTJODCEp DT TBR
This we have endeavoared to do. We are quite sensible of our shortcomings b its tiMt-
tnent; nor shall we attempt to apologize for them. " Sach as I hare give I onto joo.'* It
is not to be supposed that in this paper we have been giving a recipe for the maDD^Ktiire
of Poetrj. We believe that Nature makes poets, but Art brings them to perfectioo. To
those who possess the proper emotive sensibility our hints may be serviceable in the coltnit
of the intellect. To such we would reiterate the poet's advice^-
" Look, then, into thine heart, and write.'*
To others our observations may be useful, in enabling them to judge more tmlj, and
appreciate more readily, the Poetry both of literature and life. At least, what we have
said may stimulate reflection and lead to the discovery, by some greater mind, of the true
theory of Poetry. 31eanwhile we maintain, with Longfellow, that— -
" When storms of wild emotion
Strike the ocean
Of the poet's soul, ere long,
From each cave and rocky a&tness.
In its vastness,
Floats some fragments of a song :
From tht* far-off isles enchanted,
Heaven has planted
With the golden fruit of Truth ;
From the flashing surf, whose vision
Gleams elysian
In the tropic clime of youth;
'* From the strong will and the endeaYuor
That for ever
Wrestles with the tides of Fate ;
From the wreck of Hopes far scaturrH
Tempest-shattered,
Floating waste and desolate ;
Ever drifting, drifting, drifting,
On the shifting
Currents of the restless heart;
Till at length in books recorded,
They, like hoarded
' Household words/ no mora deitart"
lltliginii*
IS THE STPJCT OBSERVANCE OF A SABBATH, AS ENJOINED IN THE
OLD TESTAMENT, INCUMBENT UPON CHRISTIANS?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
Of late years not&in^ has exhibited the . But we must say that we believe thfv do w
declension of spiiitual religion more clearly , conscientiously or inconsiderately, tod vd
than the depreciativc conduct of the gene- I from any disregard to the command of tht
rality of our fellow-countrymen towards the
sabbath. Cheap Sunday trains, Sunday
amusements, and Sunday newspapers, are
among the novelties of the age. To a serious
mind the contemplation of this state of things
Is really painful. The fact of vast multi-
tudes gre^ily seizing these cheap commodi-
ties, and setting at nought the divine com-
mand respecting the observance of the sab-
bath, is serious indeed. But, besides these
open pollutionists, there is another portion of
society whi\ while they profess great regard
^ all divine iDJaDCtions, do, in our opxuvwR, V
invanMbly trsosgress the lavr of the «uV)aX\iA
Most High. If, reader, you do so from s
conscientious opinion that ^'the strict ob-
servance of a sabbath, as enjoined in the Oil
Testament, is not incumbent upon
Chris-
tians," we earnestly solidt your coopiiy
through this debate. If, on the contrtfTi
you violate its holiness incoDsidentdr,
without inquiring if you are justified in it
doing, we would ask your patient sod ia*
partial hearing of the case; and, should «•
still differ in our opinion, we ersre J«tf
forbearance from ranking us amotf tkt
"" \A<;;,oV«i enthusiasts of the old somL
\iesssafift >^^ c»^^<ti^'m^\dn« anind il '^
OLD TBSTAHEMT, INCUBCBERT UPON CHRI8TTAK8?
49
the rwnlt of a caurefiil indnctioo of particn-
Urs u contained in the inspired record; and
we consider these writingn the criterion
wherebj we are to judge of the troth of our
dedactian on all subjects like this.
Two things let ns premise. First, that it
is immaterial which daj of the seven we
observe as the sabbath ; whether the seventh,
according to the Jews, or the first, as ob-
serred by Christians. God, in sanctifying
the seventh daj, is not to be understood as
imparting anj essential sanctity to the day
itself, but as resting from the work of crea-
tion, and appointing it as a day to be observed
in a sacred manner by men. Secondly, it is
not expected that wo should observe those
rites and ceremonies which appertained to
the Jewish religion — the sacrifices, offerings,
&c. — as these were all abolished by the
appearance of the great antitype; but the
observance which we maintain as enforced
upon ns is the abstaining from all sensnal
indulgences, bodily recreations, and worldly
pleasures, and also a total cessation from all
manner of labonr, domestic or commercial,
which may in any way prevent the mind
fnmi meditating on the important topic of
religion. Having said thus much, the basis
^pon which we argue is apparent to all.
When the Christian dispensation was es*
Wished, all injunctions relative to the
ceremonial law were abrogated, while others
of a different kind were placed in their stead.
The sabbath, however, is not to be considered
dependent for its holy observance on that
^w, as the other religious festivals of the
Jews, for it was prinuurily instituted by the
Infinite Creator, at the close of the Mosaic
creation, as a day of rest for man and beast;
and the duty of sanctifying it was subse-
quently proclaimed with God*s own voice,
*Qd written with his own finger on tablets
'^ f^e, as one of those unchangeable laws
^hich were to govern his moral kingdom in
^1 ages and climes. The sabbath, therefore,
^as to be no mere ceremonial observance,
*wch after a while was to be annulled by
|he introduction of the gospel dispensation,
^ yr9» appointed as a divine ordinance to
"• 'trictly observed by man, and the observ-
ance of it constitutes part of his duty untU
the end of time.
It was also intimated in the Old Testa-
ment, that, after the Jewish dispensation
^tud be brought to an end, the sabbath
would continue to be observed in a sacred
manner. The fifty-sixth chapter of Isaiah
must evidently be understood as implying
this permanent sanctity. In this chapter
the Lord promises the eunuch that kept hitf
sabbath a place in his house, and an ever-
lasting name better than that of sons and of
daughters. Now, eunuchs were forbidden,
under the law of Moses, to enter the congre-
gation of the Lord; so that these verses must
indicate some future period when the law of
Moses would be annulled and the sabbath
still kept This "said law was not made
void until the gospel dispensation was insti-
tuted; therefore the verses in Isaiah obvi-
ously imply that at this future period (the
time of the gospel dispensation) all persons
who reverenced the tabbath would participate
in equal religious privileges.
Neither does the New Testament leave us
without examples and intimations which
favour our opinion. Christ hallowed the
day with superior sacredness. Trae, he
claims to be Lord of the sabbath; but not
for the purpose of transgressing its holiness,
or performing any act derogatory to its
sanctity, but for the purpose of rescuing it
from the abuses and traditions of the Pha-
risees, who objected to the performance of
deeds of mercy on that day. The apostles,
also, after the ascension of their Lord, oh*
served the sabbath with equal punctuality,
reverence, and zeal, abstaining from all things
which might in the least degree disparage
its holiness, and in all their instructions
concerning it they assumed its sanctity as
indisputable.
If, then, tlie scriptures of the Old and Kew
Testaments, together with the conduct of our
Saviour and his apostles, do all testify that
the new dispensation did not repeal the law
of the sabbath, upon what grounds are we to-
believe that its former sacredness has been
in the least degree abated? Were Chris-
tianity to intimate this, it would be in oppo-
sition to itself; it would, by so doing, avert
its direct aim. Purposing to sanctify the
world — to prepare mankind for the realms of
infinite holiness, by instilling into their minds
a yearning desire for the attainment of holi-
ness— to be free from all impure notions and
carnal desires, and by carrying forward the
work of sanctiBcation in our hearts, — it would
be incompatible with its glorious and benevo-
lent design were it to withdraw the least sane-
50
IS TUB STRICT OBSERVANCE OF A 8ADB.\TR, AS ENJOniBD U THE
titj from the onl j day of the week which holy
writ enjoins us to otMcnre. Indeed, it would
be more in accordance with its heavenly
deugn were it to enforce the obsenrance of
the firat day of the week in addition to the
seventh, than were it to unsanctify any part
of the seventh. Instead, however, of that,
God requires only one day out of seven to be
set apart for his service, but that one must
be dedicated to that work solely. No part
must be given to the world and its labunrs
and pleasures, as we have the other six for
these things.
Having shown that the sabbath was not
repealed by the introduction of the christian
dispensation, but is a perpetual ordinance of
God, it follows that whatever decree of
sanctiHcation attached to it under the old
dispensation belongs to it still, unless the
scriptures intimate to the contrary. We
have failed to find any such intim.itions.
True, St. Paul, in his Epistle to the Colos-
aians, cautions Ciirisitians against being en-
slaved by those persons who seek to build up
their self-righteousness by observing what
they eat and what they drink, and in what
manner they kept their festivals, striving to
amalgamate the numerous feasts, &c., fiYr-
merly observed by the Jews, with Chris-
tianity. We must not, however, infer from
this that he deprecated the one holy sabbath.
If, then, secular labours were formerly in-
consistent with the sanctity of the sabbath,
tliey are so now; if joumevs, luxuries, &c.,
were prohibited on that day then, ihey are
now. The so- called necessities of commerce
arc not sufficient reasons fur transgressing
the divine command. Neither health, wealth,
nor happiness must be purchased at the
expense of profaning the holy day of God.
Amusements and pleasures must in no wise
be obtained by desecrating the sabbath. We
are exceedingly grieved that so many are
forced to pass their days, from " early morn
to dewy eve,** in large cities,and clo^e, crowded
rooms, far from the benign ooantry air,ni
unable to participate in its refirohing io-
flnence; yet such circumstances do not jni'
tify their desecrating the sabbath by stroUiog
in the country on that day izistnd of it>
tending the bouse of prayer. Indeed, those
who spend their sabbaths in such a maioar
do not seem to endure nnhealthj aitoatioBi
better than the persons who devote its lacnd
hours to the service of the I^ord. " What s
contrast,** savs an editor, " is presented <■
Monday morning between the sabbath bioker
and the Sunday school teacher! While the
features of the former indicate the effiKtiof
the most depresi>ing reaction, and show tbit
his sensual gaieties have failed to give bia
inward ease, the serene countenance of tbe
latter, and his finn, elastic step, give en-
dence that his constitution has suffered M
violence, and that his conscience ii tX
peace. How infatuated are those who add
to the heavy burden of labour the beavicr
burden of guilt! How pleasant to begii
the duties of the week after a weil-^KBt
sabbath!"
The conclusion we have now unavoidiUy
arrived at is this, that the sabbath is an if
Htitution ordained by God to be excloaf^
and permanently consecrated to tbe seitice
of the I^rd, " with the scde exception d
works of charity, piety, and necessity." The
divine injunction in t'le fourth commaiulineBt
being so clear and plain in enforcing os all
mankind the essential duty of keeping a dff
holy to the Lord, tlie scriptures tnp^tptg
VLB with no intimations implying tlw reicioi-
ment of the sabbath's sanctity at the dotf
of the Jewish dispensation, and the inoco*
sistency of the idea that Christianity repetk'
an institution which directly snbuerrci iV
glorious and desired end, w« cannot W
again reiterate our opinion that ** the stiict
oWrvance of the saUMth, as snjimicd in dn
Old Testament, is incumbent npon allGkrii'
tUns.** Glowi.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
In endeavouring, by the investigation of the altered aspect which it presents vkfl
the question before us, to discover a wise seen by the superior light of tbe niuttKj*
and true answer thereto, the most expedient ' dispensation. Srdly. By the li|;ht of diR*'
inethod to be followed appears to be — 1st. tian revelation to determine the f**^
To glance at the nature of the Bsbbath, and — Whether the obserranoe of tht MUN|kt
tbe position it ocnipied nnAer lYke 3«w\»Vv tcwsc^vo,^ \ft the lettsr of ths Jn"*
^coaomr. Sadly. To Tiew the \nstiluV\on va^ teawratfj ^\sft vMwasJ««x ^^n^Chnstisoi? 'i
OLD TESTAHniTf IBCUMBXirr U^OV CflSnTIAXB?
51
in otlier words, Whether it be ineambent
vpoo the fall, grown nun to confonn his
limbs to the babiUments of the chUd?
1st Under the Jewish dispensation the
sabbath appears to hare combined the three-
fold diaracteristic of a eoiDmenHnvtion, a
sjBbol, and a law. The event it com-
memorated was the completion of the sataral
creation. The Architect of natore had gr»-
doallj eompleted his work in six snceessiTe
periods. Man, the top stone of the bailding,
bad been laid. As nature's misterpieee he
wss prodnced. In man were united the per-
fection of the natural creation and the germ
of the spiritnal. The Creator baring thns
finished his woiic, in the seventh or present
period he rests, and of this rest the 3tw»
were beautifully and appropriately reminded
by the consecration of every seventh day as
» day of cessation from bodily toil.
One of the most obvious characteristics of
the present state of being is its instability,
i'ife is a tempest-tossed ocean, whose waters
csn only be preserved from stagnation and
^prruption by means of the ceaseless activity
•ngendered by the warring and conflicting
of sorrounding elements. Man a]^)ear8 as
• ▼^sger thereon seeking for a distant
Ittd, a blissfal shore, ** where the wrcked
cease from troubling, and the weary are at
w«t" He works in hope of rest. He be-
lieves that an the tunnml, cares, and dis-
hwsses of the present will be swallowed up
Md ibfgotten in a calm infinity of being;
in a repose eternal and unbroken. Tliis idea
«f future spiritual rest was symbolized to
the Jew by means of the sabbath. This
^M in perfect harmony with the nature of
tbe Jewish religion, whose object was to
oommend spiritual truth to the notice of
ctrtb-bora man by means of outwsrd forms,
*od esrthly but significant institutions; and
tans, by reflecting from terrestrial substance
^ ^ortkn of celestial light upon benighted
hmnsnity, to anticipate and prepare the way
W? ""'°^ ^ *''* ^°" ^ Righteousness.
while the sabbath was thus to the indi-
^^ Jew a symbol of the future rest of
^ 8onl, to the human species also it bors
the aspect of a promise; it spoke of its
awverance from the burden of outward hiw,
?™d of tbe rest hi store for the weary and
5**7 Isden. It also had a direct tendency
w ^thdtaw the human mind fnMn ewthly
P>'«uU, and indirectly to lead to the con-
templation of spiritnal realities. It found
the human race spiritually degnded. Its
mission was to raise and purify. To this
end its observance was enforced by such
motives as were most capable of influencing
the beings for whoso benefit it was intended.
By the base motive of fear was degraded
humanity, at this period of its history, most
easily moved; therefore the observance of
those institutions, among which was the sab-
bath, and which were the harbingers of the
rising of that Son whose light was that per-
fect love which casteth out fear, was enforced
by that motive. The keeping of the sab-
bath was commanded by law; the penalty
attached' to its infringement was death.
Thns was death made subservient to life;
law became the pioneer of liberty, and fear
the precursor of love.
2nd. It now devolves upon us to view this
institution by the superior light of christian
revelation, in order that we may thereby
discover whether or not, in its character of
law, it retains any authori^ over the mind
of the Christian. It is natural to suppose
that the Jewish sabbath, which we have
seen to be commemorative of the completion
of the natural creation, and typical of the
spiritual rsst which the true worshipper
would possess under the christian dispensa*
tion, would, under the advent of the spiritual
creation, lose all its interest as a memorial
of that which was natural, and as a type
would be useless when the thing typified
was possessed. We see in human natnre —
as regards all embodiments of spiritual
truth — a constant tendency to lose the
spirit and exslt the form. Very strikingly
is this tendency manifested in the past and
present history c^ the sabbath. Nona of the
actions of Christ excited against him more
bitter hatred and hostility l]bau those which
rebuked the superstitious reverence enter-
tained by the Pharisees for this institution.
The Pharisee regarded the sabbath as a
kind of deity — something before which the
wretched worm, man, was to bow and afflict
his soni — ^to which his wants were to be
subservient, and the strict observance thereof
as one of tbe ends of his bdng. Christ
thought man to be better than the sabbath —
something unspeakably more precious than
any worn-out systems, rights, and ob-
servances. He could recognise within him
the image of the eternal God, and he came,
52
IS THE OBSBRVAJfCB OF A SABBATH IHCUMBBirr OV CRBISTIAKS ?
'with a mightj hand and a sympathizing
heart, to destroy all that hindered his up-
ward progress — to place his feet on the in«
destructible base of truth — ^to sorronnd him
with a moral atmosphere of parity and free-
dom, end to sweep from before him the
accumnlated snperstitioos and rubbish of
ages. The exalted spirituality of New Tes-
tament doctrine teaches us to regard the
sabbath as existing only for the sake of man ;
apart from man it has neither value nor
sanctity. The mysterious inner nature
which the Christian feels yearning within
him has its wants, and those wants are
mighty. Outward society, prosperity, and
pleasure, can never satisfy them; these are
hut shadows; the soul is substance, and for
kindred substance it seeks with unutterable
desire. The sabhath is a time set apart for
this momentous search — a time for holding
communion with the boundless Being who
pervades and oomprehends all things — for
the apprehending of that substance which
every shadow implies — ^for the acquisition of
those truths which every appearance indi-
cates; a time when, ^retiring from society,
we may study, amid the solitudes of nature,
the symbols of truth and wisdom with which
she is filled; and these, amid her unbroken
silence and desert wilds, catch upon the
inner ear the still, small voice of God. Wise
are they who can thus appreciate and use
the sabbath. When those whose whole being
is engrossed in providing for the body are
reaping corruption and the grave, those who
thus sow to the immortal spirit shall, in the
kingdom that cannot be moved, have reaped
life everlasting. Yes! We believe, with the
great Socrates, that a time exists in the
future when the seeker of wisdom, who passes
here for a pursuer of shadows, will grasp
substance — the seeker of wealth and power,
who passes here for a pursuer of substance,
will grasp a shadow.
3rd. We now come to the pith of our
argument — Is the observance of the sabbath,
according to the letter of the inferior economy,
incumbent upon Christians? Our reasons
for concluding that it is not are the follow-
ing;—
1. The books of the New Testament,
being the only recognised directoiy and rule
of faith to the christian church, supposing
any part of the Jewish law to bo still bind-
ing upon Christians, we should naturally
expect to find the New Testament recognising
its authority and enforcing its observance.
That such is not the case with regard to the
sabbath we suppose every intelligent reader
of the New Testament must be aware.
2. Not only is its observsnoe not en-
forced by the New Testament, but, in those
few places in the writings of the apostles
where it is mentioned, the opinion of its
existing authority is evidently discounte-
nanced; as, for example, CoL ii. 16, where
we find it classed with the other ordinances
of the Jews, such as the observances ooc-
nected with meat and drink, and the cele-
bration of the new moon, which ordinances,
we are told, were blotted out and taken out
of the way by being nailed to the cross of
Christ
3. The fourth commandment expressly
states the seventh day of the week as the
day to be kept peculiarly holy ; but we find
the followers of Christ, from the oommenoe-
ment of the christian dispensation to the
present time, have universally neglected to
observe this day. The motive with the ori-
ginal Christians we believe to have been a
conscientious one; they refused to obserre
this ordinance of the Jews for the same
reason that they rejected every other; they
regarded them as shadows of good things to
come, which things they possMsed in Christ,
Christ being the end of the law to eveiy one
that believeth. It is when we view this
Jewish ordinance in its character of law thst
its incompatibility with the spirit of the
higher dispensation appears most glaring.
The Christian is not under the law, but
under grace. He is no longer a servant, bat
a son. He who was subject to tutors and
governors is now their Lord; " therefore the
Son of man is Lord also of the sabbath." To
make christisn liberty subject to Jewish Isw
is to exalt the means above the end, for
liberty is the end of law. But there are
some who will argue that the authority of
the fourth commandment was, after the
death of Christ, transferred from the seventh
day of the week to the first From what
source they obtain this piece of infonnatim
I am at a loss to conjecture; certainly not
from the Old Testament! That they ob-
tained it from the New I am equally disin-
clined to believe, never having myself dis-
covered it, either as explicitly stated or as
Indirectly implied.
WOULD EDUCATI02r ERADICATE CRIME ?
53
The boandltts Being, whose ** throne is
established in the heavens, and whose king-
dom mleth over all/' is the only true sove-
reign and lawgiver to the Christian. He
that bows, therefore, to human authority in
religious matters knows but little of that
freedom of spirit which truth bestows upon
those who know and reverence her. In de-
ciding, therefore, whether we are bound to
keep the first day of the week with the strict
observance enjoined in the Old Testament to
be given to the seventh, we ask. Has the
Father of spirits imposed any such law upon
his worshippers? We conclude that he has
not, never having discovered such a law,
either through the medium of the New Tes-
tament, or as more directly inscribed upon
the hidden tablet of the heart If, then, no
such law has proceeded from God, it follows
that every Christian must have unrestricted
liberty either to observe the day or not to
observe it, according as he may think most
conducive to the welfare of humanity and
the glory of God. He that in these mattera
endeavours to coerce the minds of his fellows
is 80 far an enemy to christian liberty, an
officious intermeddler with another's servants,
and an encroocher upon the prerogative of
God. He that submits to such dictation
wrongs the authority of his true Sovereign,
and compromises the freedom of liis own soul.
The Christian being no longer subject to
oidinanees, ordinances, so far as they are
conclusive to the development of the inner
and higher life, must be subject to him. It
is his high prerogative to use or reject all
religious rites and observances, according to
the dictates of his conscience, and under all
circumstances to mould his outer life accord-
ing to the decisions of his enlightened judg-
ment. In the vision of the New Jerusalem
there was no temple discovered therein, for
the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are
the temple of iL Neither had the city any
need of the sun or moon to shine in it, for
the glory of God did lighten it, and the
Lamb is the light thereof. From which
vision we learn, that to tbe spiritual believer
all places are equally holy, and none pecu-
liarly so, seeing that infinity is full of God;
and as with place, so with time. The sun
and moon, with their times and seasons,
exist not in the realm of spirit. God is the
changeless light, the unsetting sun thereof.
The true worshipper rejoices ever in his
meridian beams, and sees and feels that all
times are sacred with the presence of him
who iuhabiteth eternity.
When we review the past, we perceive that
the sabbath has been, to a considerable ex-
tent, an object of superstitious reverence,
and a clog to the feet of liberty. To a much
greater extent has its true nature been mis-
understood, and its worth unknown ; and very
appropriately might the voice of the apostle
ring in the ears of the present the words
of warning, " Stand fast therefore in the
liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free,
and be not entangled again with the yoke
of bondage.** But the sky of the future is
radiant with the bow of promise. God is at
work among the nations, and his work must
abide. God is light, and light must triumph.
God is love, and into the law of love must
all other laws be resolved. God is a spirit,
and it is of necessity that the spirituality of
the christian revelation should not be in
bondage to the formality of the Mosaic. We
may rest assured that the son of the bond-
woman cannot be heir with the son of the
free. Cosmopolite.
WOULD EDUCATION ERADICATE CRIME ?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
Much has been said of late respecting
education; and nothing has given us more
pleasure than hearing so important a question
discussed with such ardour and freeness by
the legislators of our country. We are truly
glad to see the C<mtravernaK$t revert to it,
after having so ably and satisfactorily de-
bated the subject of the proper parties for
54
WOUU> EDUCATION ERADICATE CBIMB ?
providing it.* The effects of edacation par-
take more of the specuUtiTO than the former,
but yet are not lesa interesting and im|K)r-
tant, and must in some degree be ascer-
tained before education itself can be placed
on a permanent and positive babis. We hail,
therefore, with delight the discussion ques-
tion, " Will education eradicate crime?" and
trust that it will be treated with the same
candour and energy which has characterized
the discussion of all the subjects brought
forward in the pages of this magazine.
Conviction compels us to answer this
question in the affirmative. Yes; we do
think that education would eradicate crime.
What is crime? Is it not the offspring of a
barbarous age? Is it anything but the
effect of ignorance ? Did ever a well-edu-
cated man commit a trime; wo mean any
of those disgraceful commissions that evoke
legal punishment — any of those gross out-
rages on humanity which so frequently stain
the annals of history? Never. In vain you
tell us of a Bacon, who prostituted justice to
pensonal aggrandizement, and who repaid
generous friendship with a cold, hollow in-
gratitude. In vain you tell us of kings and
noblemen, who sat on the very summit of
Parnassus with the Muses— patrons of edu-
cation— having done actions at the implica-
tion of whic4i even beggars would blush. In
vain you tell us of a I^Ubh or a Manning
swinging on the gallows for wielding the
assassin's knife. Yes; in vain all that is
told us, for these are uot cases in point. An
intellectual education is not a complete edu-
cation; it is the least iniportant }iart of an
education. Bacon, and the rest of these, it
may be, had attained the very acm6 of
intellectual perfection; but their suuls all
the time were grovelling in ignorance. Xay,
we repeat our assertion, and dare any one to
deny it — give a man a full education — an
intellectual, moral, religions, and practical
education — nnd that man will detest crime,
and shrink from it
" A* one who spies a .«ori>«)t in lii'» way,
G listening and biu^kiiifr in the summer ray."
We have heard cold-blooded philanthro-
pists talk about giving our country a purely
secular education. Ay, cold blooded they
Mttif unworthy to be called philanthropists.
We hsre always regarded them as Jesuits —
• See Vol. U.
as wolves in sheepa clothing. They ivj
that this method alone can ex^cate crimr:
as if religion was a patron of crime!— tf if
Christ came not to destroy bat to bcokite
sin ! The reason crime is lo prevalent is,
not because religion forma a part of oir
education, but because rvliffum is wot pro-
perty UmghL For many yean past we hire
had, not christian, but sectarian doetriati
taught in our schools. When the day oanes
that a new order of things prevail — MCts*
danism supported by pare religion— tbco
the children, upon becoming men, will eoo-
sider crime as not only an outrage apoa
man, but an outrage upon God; and isA
hate, and then shun it. Then hhall the gRtt
moral change take place which poetl tfJ
legislators sec in futurity, though thnm;^
different media. Then crime will be talked
of as a thing that was.
The authority of such a philoM^to 0
Locke on the subject of education most bin
some influence, even with our oppoonti.
Listen, then, to what he lays: — ^"Uodir
whose care soever a child is put to be tsn^
during the tender and flexible yean of liisliiti
this is certain, it should be one who thiakf
Latin and languages the least part of <dB-
cation ; one who, knowing how much riitfl*
and a well-tempered soul is to be preftn^
to any sort of learning or language, niskei it
his chief business to form the mind of bii
scholara, and give that a right diitpoBti*
which, if once got, though all the rest shooU
be neglected, would in doe time prodoeeiB
the rest; and which, if it be not got^ tf' i
settled 80 as to keep out ill and viooH
habits, languages, and sciences, and all th(
otlier accomplishments of edncation, will It
to no purpose but to make the wone orBtfC
dangerous man.**-
In addition to the above arguments, tk
following have induced us to answer t»s
question as wo have done: —
1. Make a man not only know, bnt/<"
tlie performance of a certain action to bt*
crime, and he will abstwn from it. Tliif >*
involved in a thorough education. Lull tkf
conscience and blunt the feelings, and tbo
nothing will restrain a man from oommittiip
the vilest deed. Knowledge certainly if "
of the springs of action, bat freqtctffy ^
loses its power; bat aenaibilitj b ima^iA
\\,« '^nrnvc U omnipotent.
^. \Jt^«.ODia^jl\)A \am^ «A «Bly Ct ikkff
-\'
WOt7U> BDUGATIOS XRADIGATB CRDIB ?
55
Tie*, bat to prictifle Tirtne, and when a man
he will not abstain from doing the same.
This also is involTed in a thorough ednca^
tioD; and is not onlj an experience-proven,
bat a dtvinel j-attested tmth : — ** Train up
a child in the vay he should go: and when
he w def, he will not depart from it,"
3. ¥rhat has, in time past, lessened the
extent of crime ? Has it not been education ?
m^thout doabt there is a less amoant of
crime in oiTilised society than in a oommu-
nttj of nvages; bnt civilization is nothing
bat the resiJit of edncation; and the reason
why crime is not ^ott j eradicated is becaose
civilization is imperfect; and this b the case
becaose education is imperfect. A perfect
edncation is the precnrsor to perfect civiliza-
tion, and perfect civilisation is again the
foremnnOT of the perfect eradication of
crime.
We now rest to see how onr opponents
win support their opinions, and to hear what
thej shall say of these we have now laid
down. We trust th^ will receive all dne
oonMderation, and be allowed their legitimate
force. Dbomo.
NEGATIVE AETICLE.— II.
" KsfowiSDGK is power," is an aphorism
oootinnally in the months of those who
imagine that in edncation they have dis-
covned the elixir wluch is destined to heal
every infirmity, and pnrify every corruption
of fidlen humanity. When speaking of war,
of crime, of superstition, or any other of the
evils which the sin of Adam hss entailed on
bis posterity, they say, ^ Soch tldngs most
speedily disappear before the march of dvili-
zation and the progress of eMightenment;
Uhe the bats and owls, which seek obscurity
before the rays of the noonday snn, so shall
these relics of ignorance and barbarism
ranish before the light of education and the
increase of knowledge." Because they see
that intellectual prepress has destroyed or
lessened many physical inconveniences by
the application oif steam, gas, and electricity
to the ordinary purposes of life, they con-
ader that the same power would be as able
to remove the evils of the moral as of the
material world. They forget that education
may, indeed, make the head more capable of
devising, and the hand more skilful to eze>
cute; bnt that it cannot affect the passions,
the inclinations, and the desires, alike com-
mon to the king and the beggar, the pihi-
losopher and the clown, and to which, when
onrsstraiDed, every power, both of mind and
body, is bat an obedient slave.
Bat, besides these general arguments,
thiare are particular aad practical ones ad*
▼aseed by those who maintain the affirma-
tive aide of this question. They point to
the prison retoms and crtmimd statistics;
aad, appealing to the diaproportton in the
DwmbeiB of edncated and oiMdoeated oon-
vieta, triumphantly ask if this is not sof-
ficient evidence in their favour? If it oould
be proved that the educated were, firom their
position in life, exposed to the same tempta-
tions as the ignorant, it would certslnly
place the matter beyond dispute. But, since
the most prolific parent of crime is poverty,
combined with strong passions, which cannot
be gratified without iirfringing on the rights
of others, the great majority of criminals
will always be found in the lowest classes of
society, to which edncation has not yet
penetrated. Until it reaches these dangerous
classes we cannot fairly apply these prison
statistics; for it is admitted that men will
not commit crime unless tempted; and, as
educated men at present mostly move in a
sphere above temptation, there will neces-
sarily be bnt a small number of well-informed
criminals. Under the pr^sure of extrava-
gance or misfortnne the educated fall as
easily as the ignorant: perhaps more so; for
their very intelligence suggests to them ways
of oommitting and concealing their evil
deeds which do not occur to the latter.
What talent, what adroitness, what pro-
found knowledge of human nature, is some-
times displayed by professional swindlers and
blacklegs! They most be both edncated
and talented men, who, having lost character
and substance by thdr excesses, are obliged
to resort to plunder to keep up their de-
baucheries. We can scarcely take np a copy
of the Timea without seeing some compli-
cated and ingenious fraud, furnishing an
additional testimony to the fact that intel-
ligence is merely a veiy powerful tool, which
it is optiooal with its possessor to employ,
either for good or evil. Education will cer-
tainly rsfiae crioM. It will diminnh its
56
IS THB CHABACTSR OF THE DUKB OF VSLUNGTOX
bratalitj, bat increase its contrivance and
premeditation. Tiiere will be fewer Goodes
and Greenacres, bat more Cartouches and
Duvals. Tlie bludgeon and pistol will give
waj to chloroform and the garotte. Bobbery
will be reduced to a science, in which ruffian
violence will be superseded by dexterity and
skill.
These are momentous times. Everywhere,
throughout the length and breadth of the
land, we hear the cry, Educate I educate!
Is it wise to make those classes, now content
with their present position, because ignorant
of a better, discontented and intelligent? Is
it well to implant in them new desires they
cannot gratify — a thirst for pleasures they
cannot obtain; to fill them with envy at
those above them, and at the same time to
place in their hands new resources for attack-
ing the social edifice? It may be said that
education, if rightly applied, would teach
them contentment and a philosophical re-
signation to the dlfiferent ranks of society.
True; but most men are not philosophers,
and never can be made such, and therefore
will not make a right application. Men
generally believe what they wish to be true;
and the example of the French Socialists
might infonn us, that though a man with a
good amount at his banker's might be per-
fectly well convinced of the saoredness of
property, and the respect due to authority,
the same man in rags would be equally cer-
tain that property was a robbery, and all
government a usurpation.
History teaches us that the most intellec-
tual age of a nation has always been its
roost profligate. An educated populace
poisoned the bowl for Socrates. The reGoe-
ment, the civilization of Bome, gaaed without
shuddering on the bloody sporta of the
circus. The art-loving populace of Ptri^
spared the Swiss guards who had climbed
up the statues in the palace gardens for
shelter, not from compassion, but lest their
bullets should injure the sculpture.
The influence, then, that shall eradicate
crime, must appeal to the heart as well as to
the intellect That influence is religion. It
alone can calm and regulate man's turbulent
ambition, assuage his restless avarice, and
allay his gnawing envy. A people whose
head and whoso heart are alike educated will,
indeed, approach as near as mortals may to
an ignorance of crime. Educate the one and
leave the other neglected, and you create a
hell ; educate both, and you come near to a
terrestrial paradise. S. A. J.
IS THE CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON WORTHY OF
ADMIRATION ?
AFFIRMATIVE ABTICLE.-II.
'' Lives of great men all remind us
We may make our lires sublime;
And, departing, leave behind us
Foot-prints on the sands of time :
Poot-priotii which, perhaps, another
Sailing o'er life's stormy main —
Some forlorn and shipwrecked brother —
Seeing, may take heart again."
The present moment seems peculiarly
auited to the present discussion. There is,
however, this disadvantage, that so much
has recently been said upon the question, ;
that it is almost hopeless to expect anything '
new. Under these circumstances we shall '
content ourselves with making the best use '
in our power of the materials which hare
come before us.
We are of the number of those who ood-
sider the character of the recently departed
Duke of Wellington worthy of admiratioo.
In saying this we speak of the man apart
from his vocation. The fact of his having
been successful in war adds nothing to oar
estimation of him. Such a man wtmld ban
been successful in any calling. It is tne,
some professions afibrd greater scope for the
triumphs of genius than others. The mili-
tary profession, at the period at which oor
hero entered it, presented an opportunity for
the development and display of gcDtralship
\'. ■ :.i i'\ I
M'Mii.A : I .\ :
.•<
^'rUera-
" Let Ihe body perish ! not with itM decay
The lift' anil oUitx' of true grmtnn« end* ;
Its iu»iiutition d»vlls enshrined in act
« • • •
The OioujL'ht that they were men, makes other
ini>:i
Kxult in manhood. • • •
* * * And thus the nons
or Ge:ii'i<« have prerogative to stand
Ex(-in|it fn)m Time's decrve, imnmtable.**
'•^•i;.- \.x-. rart'lv I'.i.^j-' tn;».urrL'J. In liiis luiu.ica *!«inn in mtiiiory t«> liuun'
respect it wms truly "the hoor for the man." j tions. West land Maraton bcaatifulij ex-
Tliea;:ereqTureda bero: Wellington supplied j pressed this fact when he said —
Ihe want of the age.
That Wellinf^ton was successful in most
that he undertook is fud the roiison wlij we \
ward him our pruisc. It is bociuso lie
cotnbliKd in bis character the certain and
Qsential elements of sncocss tiiat we adiniro
liim. What was hi.i pmininent feature in
fail character? Cbicfly a strong dctcmiina-
tioo of purpose. But this wao a.ssociated
^th a true knowledge and perception that Another feature worthy of note in the
BO|:reat purpose can be thorouyMy accom- cliaractcr of Wi'Uington is this, that after he
^hed without steady perseverance, patient had achieved his mi;;hty conquests, and had
iihiastry, calm thonght, and deep and earnest settlod d<iwn to receive the greatest homage
rtCection. Thcne were all rharictfriittics in | of tin* greatest nation, the real characteristics
tile great ]>uke. Obstacles were no dis- ,' of his former self never left him. Unliko
coungeinr^nt to him, provided he could only Nanoleon and other great warriors, he never
. w an object to be gained adequate to tho bc^me either lost, or even absorbed, in his
Rer^ required for their removal. Kveu own greatnei>s. JIc was the B:ime business-
oosnre proved no barrier, provided he frit like, steady, and thoughtful man in pros-
thit circumstances would ultimately justify pcrity ns he had been during his progress
Uffl iu Lis course. And, fmally, u love of . towards it. Tride and the pomp of power
cnuitrT, coupled with a sympathy for the seem never to have laid hold of liim; and
£nHt and fjulings of his fellow-creaturrs, hence with his increasing years there ga-
mmed him at once to be just, but yet merciful, thercd round him an increasing admiration,
This view is fully borne out by the writer which could only be measured or expressed
rfthe Timet memoir of the I)ukc: — " Other in the deep anguish of a nation's tears when
CKBinanders,'' says he, "have attained the ' the hour of his departure arrived.
^best pitch of glory when they disposcfl of ' How truly did the Timt-s interpret tho
t^effdnasal res lurces of empires, and headed feeling of tho great body of our fellow-
'BBU9 already flushed with the conquest of , countrymen on the close of the Duke*s
tlie irorid. The Duke of Wellington found career: — " If aught can lessen this day the
>o such encouragement in any part of iiLs j grief of England upon tho death of her
Ofter. At no time were the means at iiis i greatest son, it is the recollection that the
tiiposal adequate to the rea<ly and certain . life which has just closed leaves no duty
ticnition of his designs. His steady pro- { incomplete, and no honour unbestowed. The
pfH in the Peninsular campaigns wont on Duke of Wellington had exhausted nature
>jEUUt the current of fortune, till that cur- . and exhauflted glory. His career was an
not was itself turned by perseverance and i unclouded longest day, filled from dawn to
RiolatiaD. He had a clear and complete nightfall with renowned actions, ammated
Inception of the dangers he encountered ; ' by unfailing energy in the public senrice,
^ be saw and grasped tlic latent power j guided by unswer^'ing principles of conduct
*Udi baffled those dangers, and surmounted ' and of statesmanship. ... In him at
apparently invincible. That is ! least posterity will trace a character superior
to the highest and most abundant gifts of
fortune. If the word '* heroism " can be not
unfairly applied to him, it is because he
remained greater than his own posterity, and
rose above the temptations by which other
I^Htaets and hoDoar, their characters are ! men of eqnal genius, but less self-govem-
'^^tju worthy of stodj. They live, as it mcnt, have fallen below their destinies,"
.^t^ thtir lift agftin, the purpose of which Our readers wiW c^yserte VV»X ^«^Mfe tnx
4 Out their Tirtnef au/ be imitMtcd, and /admiration of Y^>U\ngtoiLU^TL\.ii^Y*v>AnQ&^
pndidy the lilghest degree of courage, for
itiicouBge GODsdonSi enlightened, and dc-
Ikfeined."
When men, bj virtne o^ the qualities we
^ dfseribed, have raised themselves to
bS
IS THE CHARACTER OF TlIE DUKE OF WSIXCfGTOS
both of them we conceive eqaall j meritorious :
the first being in respect of those qaalities of
mind and habits of indnstiy which led biro
on to greatness; the second being tbat trne
nobleness of nature which guarded him from
falling a -victim to those ambitunts propen-
titkt which have so often overtaken other
great men.
'* What, though Ambition holds its power
To life's extreme but certain hour ;
Is not its most exalted joy
Encumbered with some base aljny ?
And on its proudest, loftiest heivbt,
Bajr, does it alirajrs find delii^ht .'
Bay, could it ever fruard its bear)
From Fear's assaulr, and Envy's dart?
It cannot shut the averted eye
From passing lire's mortality.
E'en from the mo«t aspiring brow
It must behold a grave below. '
We must think it was mainly to the absence
of this vice that the hero of Waterloo owed
the peaceful serenity which attended his
later years, and added an additional lustre
to his well-earned fame.
We know there are some, perhaps many,
who, with "Ariatides/' will see cause to
differ from the views we have expressed.
When we knew less of the character of the
Duke, our own views concerning him were
difierent from those we now entertain. There
need be no diffidence in discussing the ques-
tion freely, and there is something to be
learned by doing so. Let ns hope the dis-
ctission may prove at least not the most un-
interesting of those which the present volume
of this magazine introduoes to its readers.
When speaking or thinking of the de-
parted Duke, let tis ever rememlier that,
'' unvanqtiished in the field, his sword was
never drawn for territorial conquest, but for
the independence of Europe and the salvation
of his country. Baised bj the universal
gratitude of Europe, and of this nation, to
the highest point of rank and power which
a subject of the Britibh monarchy coold
attain, he wore those dignities, and be used
that influence, within the strictest limits of
a subject's duty. No law was ever twisted
to his will; no right was ever sacrificed by
one hair*s breadth for his aggnandixement
There lived not a man, either among his
countrymen or his antagonisto, who could
say that this great Duke had wronged him;
for his entire existence was devoted to the
cause of legal authority and regulated powo*.
You seek in it in vain for those stn^es of
atidacious enterprise which in other grsst
captains, his rivals in fame, hare sometimei
won the prize of crowns or turned the iate
of nations. But his whole career shines with
the steady light of day. It has nokhmg to
conceal — it has nothing to interpret by the
flexible organs of history. Everything is it
is manly, compact, and clear — shaped to one
rule of public duty, animated by one pes-
sion — the love of England and the service of
the crown."
C. W., Jua.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
Whek T. W. professed a disregard for
the opinions of those who are attached to
peace principles, we naturally inferred that
he was disposed, at least, to tolerate war,
oonvinced, like ourselves, that the time has
not yet arrived when it may altogether be
dispensed with ; instead of seeing this evinced,
we find the most marked confusion of
thought. He firdt repuditites the opinions
of peace men, and, in a sentence or so, he is
glorying in our martial achievements; he
next stigmatizes war on accoimt of its '* san-
guinary cruelties," then applauds him who
Has identified with war, and slanders those
who dissent from his opinion, as " victims of
misanthropic prejudices;** all the while avow-
ing attodunent to the principlos of peace.
^ We shall devote ourselves to a considera-
tion of a few of his statemento «• they occur.
Wellington, it is insisted, *' possessed a d^ee
of purity in his general character, which it
would be derogatory to none to imitate;"
and farther on, a little way, that he was **s
strictly moral man." JKow, without going
further than his public acts — acts by which,
from their being public, he seemed willisg
his character should be judged — we Bad
him, while in power, placing his mother so
the pension list. We do think that hsd ks
been inspired by the slightest spark of filisl
affection, such a humiliation would never
have been offered to his parent. His o«9
official salaries, and his Tarions bounties,
wen surely sufficiently nmnifioent to bare
enabled him to have secured her who bare
him from being degraded into a stete pauper;
but in whateTor light this may be views^
the fact that he traasfemd ths dntj of sop-
WOKTHT or ADXIRATIOar ?
5^
portiiig her — mxffotiDg mcb to hare been
nccMDiy — ^from hinwelf to the nation, is
not one which ledoonds much to hie credit
for the faithful administration of the public
fimde: had no other motive weighed with
him, one would have thought that a reluctance
to have hie relatiret becwne bnrdeneome to a
ooontry which had dealt libendly with him-
self might have prevailed ; hot though deli-
cate icrupies of that nature would have
deterred finer sonli», thej did not operate
with him, for there was a peueion granted to
another and more exceptionable lady; and
what stamps the entire affitir with moral
obliquity is the fact that the larfftr of the
two pensions was conferred on the lewd-
limbed mistress. There is an act of his
sdministration which remains yet to be ez-
pUined — ^we refer to his treatment of his
brother, the Marquis of Wellesley. It remains
to be shown why, on his accession to power,
he deprived his brother of office — that brother
who, to promote him, had sacrificed his own
prospects, and it is to be feared his duties too,
sod who, when governor of India, gave him
precedence of more experienced soldien, and
forwarded him in his professional career by
ereiy means in his power; it was to him, it
hss been said, that, next to Providence, he
ms indebted for the opportunity of first
signalizing himself both in India and the
Peninsula. It could be no slight occasion
which estranged, for a series of years, a
brother so devotedly attached.
Duelling — that unchrisUan mode of clear-
ing one's reputation — ^received the sanction of
the Duke, even when prime minister. The
£srl of Winchekea had rashly imputed to
the Duke insidious designs on Protestantism,
end refused to retract in a public manner
the libelloua statements which he had made
poblic. Winehekea was undoubtedly wrong.
The belligerent psrties met, and the Duke
fired, while Winchelsea withheld; and after-
wards discharging his pistol in the air, ten-
dered the apology, the refusal of which had
eanied the absurd affair; though neither of
the parties was wounded, the immorality of
the act still clings to them.
We must say Uiat, instead of feeling callad
upon to express our admiration of tlie moral
charscter of Wellington, we turn from the
ooDtemplation of it with regret, that one
whoee chsnuiter is so shaded should be the
rabject «f BQch unmeasured laudation.
T. W. is lost in admiration of Wellingtoa
as a soldier, and, indeed, to be candid, we
think it the least objostionable phase of his
character; nevertheless, we cannot subscribe
to the statement made by our opponent,
relative to his military career. ^ Uikmi the
battle-fieU," says he, '* he was, so to speak,
a manifestation of merciful and heroic feel-
ing." Not pretending to an aoqnaintance
with military affairs, we submit, most defer-
entially, to the opinion of one competent to
judge, even Napoleon himself, premising,
however, that the same opinion occurred to
ourselves when perusing the accounts of the
actions. "The immem« sacrifice of men,''
says he, "at Cuidad Rodrigo and Badajos
was by no means compensated for by the
capture of those places."
We cannot pass without comment T. W.'s
perverrion of the word " duty." Duty is not
the serving of another wherever one's abilities
may be employed with advantage; nor, as
the Duke seems to have defined it, implicit
obedience to the orders of government.
Ihiiy^ in its true signification, is the beat
application of the eapadt^ of the tndwidtiai
for the general good, Wellington ened
grossly in taking too low an estimate (tf
duty, in believing it to be the carrying into
effect the instructions of government; ir-
respective of the moral complexion of the
actions in which he was to be engaged, he
was ready to stand by the government,
" through good report, and through bad
report," whether in subduing the discontent
of the Irish people, or in quelling an out-
break of the Cluurtists in the metropolis.
His political caxver is one from which men
of liberal principles turn with dissatisfaction,
for there they see his entire energies directed
to the maintenance of the aristooracy and
government. In relation to politics, we do
ask, what the Duke of Wellington has
effected worthy of admiration? and contend
that it b a question of much mora than
apparent significance. We shall be delighted
to learn what liberal measure he ever pro-
jected, or what liberal measure, when pro-
jected by others, he did not oppose. The
truth is, he was singularly obtuse in per-
ceiving, or if he perceived, slow in acknow-
ledging, the adaptation of popular measures
to popular wants. In the arena of politics,
as in the tented field, he displayed nothing
but " the tactics of war, always fighting to
CO
IS THE CHARACTER OF WSUJNOTON WOBTHT OF ADMIRATIOH ?
the last;" he seenu to have had, in this
respect, quite a canicufar capaci^. The
very positions on which T. W. takes occasion
to praise the Doke, afibrds indubitable evi-
dence that, as a politician, he was a very
small man ; for had he been the possessor of
the sagacity and foresight claimed for him,
he would have immediately detected, and
exposed, the mlscbievoos elements in the
donbifnl projects brought forward, so that
his loamif^ voice would have been quite
out of place. As it was, however, so remark-
able were his sagacity and foresight, that he
could not be satisfied that the removal of
disabilities was necessaiy till the country
was threatened with the horrors of a civil
war, nor could he be convinced that certain
reforms in parliament would not endanger
government until these reforms were actually
brought about. We cannot even think he
had the large measure of common sense
attributed to him, for such a gift would have
given him the power of seeing it in others;
yet, although the country at large pronounced
in favour of reform, he could not perceive
that they had reason on their side. His
legislative capacity is represented by nil.
He granted nothing until forced to it; he
seemed to pride himself in withstanding the
popular demands, as if, forsooth, his single
arm, however puissant in the field, was
capable of coercing the popular will.
We feel strongly disposed to give the
negative to the attempt, vainly made by T. W.,
to elevate Wellington above the great Cor-
sican ; viewed as generals, we dare say
Wellington would not lose much by the
comparison; but the merit is due to Napoleon
of originating the peculiar tactics pursued
by boUi. In their capacities as legislators,'
the superiority of Napoleon is indisputable;
his was no commonpl^oe regret as to having
always been engaged in war, for so far from
being defective in this respect, his capacity
for the conduct of civil idffiurB was second
to that of military affairs only because less
exercised, as his public undertakings, his
political reformations, and above all his code
of laws, abundantly testify. Yet all the
while *'his hand was against every man,
and every man's hand was against hinu"
Judging fipom what he did (though it is
often a fallacious gauge), we may conjecture
what miracles he would have accomplished
had he enjoyed thirty-five years' cessation
from the toils of war, for he had an opulent
mind : but we have before us the firoits of
Wellington's retirement, and have already
estimated them at what they are worth.
Towards the conclusion of his paper, T.W.
brings in that happy, because appropriate,
soubriquet^ the ^ Iron Duke," a phnse finely
denotive of his sympathy and general feeling,
both of which were rather ambignoos; in
this respect he was almost a nondescript,
being, as it were, devoid of an emoUoul
nature. In matters which feeling would
have decided in ordinary men, he was per-
fectly stolid; to pity, he was a struger.
Although the wife of Marshal Ney threw
herself at his feet, imploring the exercise of
his influence on behalf of her husband, he
remained unmoved by her entreaties. Barely
was ho animated by generous impulses to
assist the weak or overawe the strong; in
his view his exalted station carried with it
no moral responsibility of such a nature; he
was for ever separated from the danger of
being magnanimous by his unooncem for
the hairiness of others.
What, then, can have convinced T. W.
" that the character of the Duke of Welling-
ton, as a soldier and as a man, is worthy of
admiration ? " Is it his administration of the
pubUc money or his ingratitude to hii
brother? Is it the Don Quixotism of the
duellist or the dauntlessnees of the genenJ
on the field, as he ** ravsged kingdoms sod
laid empires waste?" or is it his eqnivocil
attempts at statesmanship? If none of
these, is it his austerity, his stoidsm, bis
insensibility to warm emotional feeUnj^
which enlist the sympathy of T. W. ? Hero
worship has surely been carried to a danger-
ous excess, if the Duke of Wellington is to
be regarded as one having claims to oar
admiration for other than his succcssfol
campaigning. We grant, at once, that in
the minor traita of frankness, courage, de-
cision, promptitude, unceasing activity, p«r*
sistency of purpose, his life forms a pieasuoi:
contrast to that presented by the lives ot'
many more highly gifted men; yet these,
as they involve not great principles, caniwc
elicit our admiration of a pablic man, >o
marred by other deficiencies; though on the
traits pointed out we would not be frugal of
praise, but for the influence which that
might give to his career at a whole.
ARI8Tn>I9>
OUGHT THE GRANT TO MATNOOT1I TO BE WITHDRAWir ?
61
:^^nlitits.
OUGHT THE GRAXT TO ^lAYNOOTH TO BE WITHDRAWN?
XEGATIVE ARTICLE.-II.
I suoiCE that the question at the head
if thlf paper ia to be considered in a po-
Etka] pmot of Tievr. For, ho\rcver stronglj
TOovrier " or our great " Protestant cbkm-
fiooBi'maj attempt to give it a religions
i^ect, still it remains, before the face of the
vkole world, a question involring most im-
ftiuA political principles, principles equal Ij
i^ortant with those anti-christian conten-
liiis which are too frequently canied on
ktveen the riral sects of religionists in this
Mr daj. I am not inclined to view tbi:i
Bitter as a question of power between the
two great "churches" of the. times, but as
•e i right, of justice, of uprightness, and
tf Bttional honour. And, sir, I belieye that
there are thousands of my intelligent conn-
tiyoMO who arc, with me, unwilling to
Nnire the " No Popery" argnments of the
rnU to Maynooth. I believe that
an thousands of Protestants who,
*^ they are sound at heart, and truly
ftatcstant in principle, dislike to hear the
M nd threadbare cry of " No peace with
ImhI* "Down with her, down with her,
i*Mi to the ground; she is unfit to live!"
lAki I repeat, is not the feeling of England
ii a nation, however loud and boisterous
>■• of onr enthusiastic agitators may be in
Anr denrnnciations of the Papacy. Why,
ifaTi if eoe were to ask them what is the
tengniihing characteristic of Konie, many
tf than would unhesitatingly reply, "In-
and poseeution !" And yet it
to roe that their increasing jealousy
the Catholics of England and Ire-
iHd MvoaiB very much of the same spirit
tf'btolenuice and persecution." I rejoice
^ we are not subject to the powers of the
^bfoUtioD,* and the thousand means of
^■Mot that we read of Rome. But I never
*^ tOofr that this should be a reason why
^ iboold retaliate, in any degree, the
^idtiei ef Rome. God forbid that such a
Wt fhoold ever be received by the people
^ In^aad! And, while we an bo m*ni- .
^tjy the itiiipieait cfthe eboicest blessings j
of heaven, shall it be said that we have
imbibed the spirit of our great opponent?
Shall it be published to the world that we,
as a people, are content to follow in the wake
of persecution, while, in theory at least, we
profess to detest its principle? No; the
inquiring spirit of the times will not, cannot
allow this.
But I may be told that this is not the
desire of the opponents to Maynooth. They
tell us that Maynooth doctrines are erroneous,
and therefore it is their duty to prevent
their inculcation. Indeed! What man art
thou that shalt thus presume to be arbiter be-
tween thy fellow and his God ? Liberty of con-
science, liberty of thought, is the undoubted
right of every man; and the liberty of the
Bible is not opposed thereto. And, I would
ask, is it lawful — nay, can it be allowed —
th.it one man shall compel another to interpret
scripture, and to understand the will of God,
as he thinks proper? And yet our opponents
claim to themselves this power, and pro-
nounce an adverse judgment on Rome and
all it teaches. This, I submit, is not what
we have a ri^ht to expect from the people of
England. There are so many things, both
in nature and revelation, that are beyond
the finite power of man's understanding,
that it would be presumption of the darkest
character to expect that the powerful shall
bind the powerless in thought. Justice, not
power, is what we profess to seek. Right,
not might, must be the word
"In the goo<l time coming."
And how much the evil is aggravated, if we
attempt to bind a man in things that are
eternal ! If men are inclined to receive the
doctrines that are taught in Maynooth, if
they are willing to interpret holy writ in
the same manner as the Church of Rome, if
they are content to be bound by the shackling
ordinances of her priesthood, what is that to
us? or would it be )\i&t \ii\]ti^ ^^«c^xnKtk\.
to annul this thnr maxiV^ Y^ctQi^>X^^*t
Certainly not; and imVeu \\ wjiXj^y^'^^
«2
OUGHT TBB ORA2IT TO XATHOOTH TO BE WITHDRAWH?
that the people of Ireland are not generally
Roman Catholics, it wonld be the worst of
all polides to let one-fifth rule the remaining
majority. Oh! bat we are told, the fuUion
is Protestant I grant iL Thank God for
it ! Bnt we are not legislating for the nation,
but for Ireland. Ireland, that has been down-
trodden so long by her powerful rulers — Ire-
land, that has poured her thousands on to the
field of battle to bleed and die for England
— Ireland, that has been and is insulted so
Tilely for her religion — Ireland, that has been
M misgoremed for oentnries; bat still Ire-
land, the ally, the friend, the companion,
and supporter of her hanghty and imperious
neighbour.
Suppose you that her sons cannot think?
Think you they have no reason? Have
tliey not a share in the revenue of the coun-
try ? Hare you not in late years marked her
dissatisfaction ? But even in her turbulence
you may hare perceived a lurking but a
strong fondness for our land. Conciliate
her. Use her as your equal, and not as
your slave. Hold out to her the right hand
of fellowship and charity. Give her "civil
and religious liberty," hackneyed though
the phrase be, and she shall still be your
supporter in all national difficolttea. Not
from fear but from love will she aerve yoo.
Thus the glory of our national eonstitatio&
shall be strengthened, and we shall still be
a people, proepenms, contented, and happy.
I regret that space will not p«mit me
pointedly to controvert all the other points
I of "L*Oavrier." Bnt, to me, they appear
shallow in the extreme. And I have hope
that their plausibility will be duly exploded,
and truth be triumphant thereby.
BLP.
APFIBMATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
** Wfaate'er is IMae, deceitAil, foal ;
Whatp'er antagonist to truth ;
The bigot's heart, the tyrant's scowl, —
Thou art their natWe soil, Mayiiooth.
And ■ball we still the nuisance nurne ?
Still feed a death-diff\uing pest?
No ! rise, extermiDate th«*. curse ;
The gangrene starre on Ireland's breast"
As the Mttory of the endowment of May-
nooth was given in the last number of this
magazine, it is not necessary to recapitulate
it here; we shall, therefore, at once proceed
to substantiate the position we have taken
in the present debate. We believe the grant
ought to be withdrawn for the following
reasons: —
First. Because the endowment has totally
failed to accomplish that which it was in-
tended to accomplish. Foolish and short-
sighted, indeedf our legislators must have
been to suppose that Rome could be bribed
to quiescence! Ireland is as unhsppy now,
as wretched now, as poor now, as ignorant
now, as seditious now, as ever she was. And
no wonder; for it is Popery that makes her
80, as it makes all other nations; and how
can the effect be removed by augmenting the
cause?
Mr. Gifford, in bis " Life of Pitt," sUtes
that within three years of the establishment
of Maynooth many of the students joined in
the rebellion; and Dr. Hnssey, the first pre-
sident, was charged with treason, and was
obliged to fly the kingdom, and died in exile.
Read, also, a description given of the priests
educated at Maynooth by their organ, the
Dublm Freeman's Journal: — ^" A national
priesthood, sprung from the people, and
educated at home, could not remain passive
in the struggle for religions eqttality. They
lent a moral discipline to the millions whom
O'Connell led ; and he ejtclaimed repeatedly,
' Without such a clergy we never could have
won.
Secondly. Because doctrines are taught si
Maynooth opposed to the well-bdng of man.
Let us hear what one of the Bomish news-
papers says of what the priests are tanglit
at Maynooth : — "^ We admit, at once, that
the priesthood must be tanght things which
are unfit for the knowledge of women or of
men; that they have books, and that they
must read them, wholly unfit for circulatioB
among young people. These books, how-
ever, are not written in the ▼emacnlar lan>
guage of any country, and a very small part
of them is occupied with the subject in ques-
tion. We also admit everything that the
Protestant can say against certain tnatiss
of moral theology, except that they, are
written for an evil end, or that they ars
erroneous. Let these books be bad, foil (^
language which cannot be spokes; let them
be, as they are said to be, unfit lor man's
reading, and unbecoming aciicolatiag ItbrazT.
OUGHT THE ORASIT TO MATNOOTH TO BE WITHDRAWN?
6S
WeaAnit it all, and murk tnnr^. ; but vte
tide them u mach as we can from the eje8
of lU, and permit tlieir use only to those
who »re boond to know them." — TahUt,
Angtut 14. Now, here it is admitted that
tbe priests at Maynootli are instructed in a
kind of knowledge as disf^nsting as was ever
alleged bj anj Protestant. They cannot
Bov deny these abominations, and there-
ftre they attempt to vindicate them, by !
tdioi; UB that they hide them as much as
poHible. But if the knowledge is ac«juired
in Mcret, the uses it is put to are public and
open. Instead of keeping it from the ears
tf Den,it pours it into the ears of women in
tb confesbional ; so that all those nations
vhffe Popery is dominant are sunk to the
bteit level of human degradation. " Lan-
guge which cannot be s^xsken** is poured
iBto the ears of the young and beautiful
"b^ the bachelor priests of Rome, till it lus
Wxxne a very Sodom." \'erily he was a
true limner that described K')me as tin;
"Mother of harlots, and the abomination of
Oe earth!"
But view the subject in another light.
An persons naturally detest murder, and
nckoD it, as indeed it is, the most horrible
U a man can commit ; yet Ireland's sons
ou regard it with indifference; and, though
fttf see a murder committed, can look on
vitliOQt compassion, and con swear before a
judicial tribunal that they never had beheld
Aedeed! How is thia? It is because of
tte teachings of the priesthood, and that
piMtbood is educated at iLiynixith. The
Miiflg at Muynooth is hostile to liberty,
other civil or religious — is opposed to pure
■onb and virtue, and is dangerous to the
fivfi of our fellow-men. Surely the BritiNJi
pvemment ought not to support an in-
atitntion which teaches such lessons as
Om!
Thirdly. Because doctrines are taught at
MiTiooth opposed to the word of G'^. This
Wftediately follows frwn the preceding rea-
ls, hat may be enforced by the foil > wing
tvtknoiiy of one of the priests educated at
Wttpenie at Maynooth; — " Now, I assert, \
^ aii the solemnity of an oath, that while !
1 Gved in that cdlegc, during a period of six !
7*ui| end was educated for a priest in the \
Choreh of Bom6f I had no bible in my pos- '
1 from th* odUege ; nor am I Atv^fre that [
any of my class-fellows thus possessed a copy
of that sacred book ; nor tau it a class-book
in our divinitjf course^ even in a dead lan-
guage! After the usual career in college, I
was ordained by the Alust Rev. Dr. Murray,
from whom I still retain my letters of orders."*
Pretty preachers of the gospel Komish priests
mubt be, who never see a bible through all
their college course!
Fourthly. Because punishment awaits all
those who have any connexion with Borne.
In Iti^v. xvii. 1, we read, "Come hither; I
will shew unto thee the judgment of the
great whore that sitteth upon many waters.**
riie evangelist- prophet then goes on to de-
.scribe the woman, and the beifist on which
she sittt?th, which is described as having
seven ho>ids. And in the ninth verse it is
said, '' The seven heads are seven mountains,
on which the woman sitteth." And, ** The
woman which thou sawei^t u that great city,
which reitfncth over the kings of the earth."
Now, at the time when John wrote, no city
would or could answer this description but
Rome; and not pagan, but papal Rome is
referred to in the pitittiction. In the fourth
verse of the next chapter there is the sum-
mons, ** Come out of her, my people, that ye
l>e not partakers of htr sins, and th(U ye
reccivf not of h*r ptuffuts.** We obey the
summons; we leave her to herself; we aban-
don her to destruction. Ilcr ruin is approach-
ing; she is on the verge of that awful pre-
cipice over which she must one day fall; and
shall we, Protestant Englishmen, take hold
of the skirts of her scarlet robe, and let her
drag us over the prci'ipice also? Shall we,
the only re.ally free nation of Kurope, pay
our moncv to foster a slaverv the most hor-
rible? Shall we, the inhabitants of a land
of bibles and go>:])el light, suffer a grant to
be made to foster a system opposed alike to
virtue and the Bible? God fi^rbid. If we
have already done so, sliall we withdraw it?
Ves! "Yes!" re-echo all the heroes who
have fought and bled for their own and theur
country's freedom. "Yes!** re-echo all the
martyrs who have died in vindication of the
pure gwipel of Jesus Christ. ** Yes ! " re-echo
our lilnrrty, our power, our religiMi. All join
and swell the cry of one universal affirma-
tive. J. C. M*C., JuN.
• I'rom a speec\» ot ^t. T«9inOi Qr%i\«fx.
^ MEANS OF MENTAL IMPROVESIENT.
MEANS OF MENTAL IMPROVEMENT.
Presumino tliAt onr readers are acquainted' with the three leading bnmches of ksor-
ledge (reading, writing, and elementary arithmetic), their object should be to render pfcsest
attainments subsidiary to further advancement.
Beading contributes greatly to mental improTcment, and to increase the stndenVs stock
of intelligence. But it will not have much tendency in this way if the reading be ffxt
over too hastily, nor if the time of the reader be devoted to light and trifling warks, which
are written for the sake of entertainment Reading, to be really beneficial, should be
pursued with studiousness, combined with a habit of reflection; and a selection of boob
should be carefully made, to meet the* chief intellectual wants of every individual, b
making this selection it is very unwise to pander to the imagination and the fancy; bat it
is more satisfactory and safe to read such books as are calculated to bmld up the judgment,
and to influence and direct the reasoning faculty.
Time for reading may be obtained, notwithstanding the pressing calls of business tot
family affurs, by adopting a suitable arrangement of work for every passing hour, so u t»
leave intervals which should be employed with avidity for the sake of improvemal.
Sometimes favourable occasions for the perasal of books will occur, while at others tbe
fragments of hours will require to be seized upon with earnestness, that they may not s
away unprofitably.
A plan for reading should be drawn out to suit the student's special circumstaooes,
which, as a matter of course, would embrace articles and works on education; and these
should not be laid aside without repeated perusals. It should also include select cooisei
of general literature, history, biography, voyages and travels — natural, mental, and umssI
philosophy, natural history, and particularly biblical literature, and the evidences of Chris-
tianity. To which should be added, for the sake of study and reference, some worba
geography, topography, and chronology. All these should be judiciously procured, sccorf-
ing to the means that students may possess, either by purchasing works to coostitote s
library of their own, or by availing themselves of the use of such libraries of reference <r
circulation as they can have recourse to with most convenience.
Have a book always at hand, that you may thus improve the leisure hours as they psM»
' A love of reading has always distinguished the wise and intelligent of mankind. Xi
acuteness of observation, no closeness of reasoning, no brilliancy of imagination, or potxr
of invention, can enable man well to dispense with this habit." If such remarks be tnt
when men of ability and talent are considered, then how much more forcibly do thcy^il^
to those whose capacities are of an inferior order. Let time be economised, let dmsos bt
judiciously employed, let the fragments of the day be gathered up, and many a book vaj
be advantageously read.
CoDTen&tion with a friend on the contents of books that you may read ia in wiaa/^
method of deepening the impresdou. oi YrWX m«^ \vx<«^ Wu learnt, and of being won f^
MtiaSed of the truth of the BtatcmeiAa VXiaX mai 'W?^>««i w»^ ot tjL ^xtotfioaiiLax ib«*
MEANS or HBMTAL ZMPBOVEMENT. 63
^Ittt maj oceor in the pablicAtions, either throogh heedlessness or design on the psrt of
kbeir authors. Bj this method matoal progression in knowledge is also promoted.
Writing, as » means of mental improvement, is of still greater importance. There is a
definitiveness, an exactness, and jet there may be a flexibilitj abont written exercises, that
Bene most materially to train the understanding to accnracy and activity in the pnrsnit of
intelligence. The rerisioD, too, of such exercises, at short periods after they were written,
tendi much to ren Jer them more clear and truthful.
Sboold the student be deficient in grammatical information, he can take any standard
pttmuur, study the rules, and write out the examples. By this simple method, continued
vith perseverance, improvement may be greatly promoted.
The art of composition is a most desirable acquirement. This can be managed by taking
a elementary work on the subject, and from it learning the nature of sentences, both
BDple and complex, with their constituent parts; namely, the subject, predicate, and
tigect, together with their adjuncts; also, the proper combination of sentences into para-
By means of frequent exercises of this kind the students vocabulary will be much
CBluged, and he will attain to considerable skilfulness in the right choice and use of
Wds. To acquire a correct style of writing, it is a good plan to read a paragraph from
■7 odebrated author two or three times over ; then shut the book, and try to reproduce it
in writing; when this is done, open the book again, compare your own production with tho
<i^ina], and correct any errors that may appear, both in the punctuation and scntecceSk
Ihny persons, by following these plain directions, have most agreeably polished their style,
Wk of writing and speaking.
Lsprovement in the knowledge of geography, is best obtained by drawing maps in out-
^ First, the boundaries of the country; second, its divisions, with the mountains and
UBi; third, the lakes and rivers; fourth, the cities and great towns; and, lastly, fill up
vith as many more cities and towns as may be desirable.
A coorM <^ history and biography should be studied in connexion with geography. Tho
vi^ng out of lists, in chronological order, of the various lines of sovereigns, and of the
*Mt remarkable events in the reign of each, and the times in which celebrated individuals
1^ lerves to impress this knowledge more deeply upon the memory. The regular study
tf history, by suitable courses, in company with a friend, or in a class for mutual instruc-
tin, is very advantageous. But, of all studies pursued for the sake of mental improve-
mt, reading will afibrd most aid ; while writing will contribute greatly to the accuracy
Vith which innumerable truths and facts may be retained ; and conference with other per-
'Oi will ynmoid an aptness for the proper use of knowledge whenever it may be required .
*^ brief statement of Lord Bacon is worthy of perpetual remembrance: — "Reading
*ikiUi a foil man; writing, an exact man; and couversation, a ready man.** Let all
''teti, then, gird up their minds to this threefold excellence.
l^opalir lectores may be regarded as a special means of mental improvement. They
**^ tiis gnat advantage of giving information, in the space of about an hour, that would
^^9^ iKj» of reading to get the same together. In many of these lectures, too, much
"'ifigaies » reeeived which would escape the general student \>y Tea^\ii^ cn^^\ «sA^«
^■^ ttnmab ihtir deSraj, is not wafnqvientlj set vrith earnest desvi^ u^mi \)ki& TEAA\«r)
66 BOOKS Aim BBADDIO.
of subjects that may prove extremdy naaful uid profitaUe, and which, bat tat the ketnre,
might have been overlooked. To read firom some approved work ahoat the leetve bcfeie
hearing it is a good means of rendering it additiooallj pleasiog and advantageoos whDe
attending to its deliveij.
Every cooxse of stndj shonld have a twofold object: first, to enrich the student with
the tceasnres of wisdom and knowledge; and, second, to dtstribnte this kind of weslth
among others for their lasting benefit. Onr eager desire should be to gain knowledge fat
the sake of happiness and nsefnlness. — TVacsAen* Magazma,
BOOKS AND BEADING.
Let ns then introdaoe yon, gentlemen, into a Libnry. I do not mean into one of the
great national collections, like that of the British M osenm, or the Bodleian at OxfenI, or
the Bed Croos Street Library of London, where the volumes range from fifteen thousand
to five hundred thoosand volumes; though there is some advantage to be derived from
merely gaxing upon such a collection. John Foster has truly said, ** There are move ways
to derive instruction from books than the chief and the direct one of applying the atten-
tion to what they contain." The sight would suggest to a thoughtfol mind a variety of
reflections; some, perhaps, like these-^-What a number of our busy race have deemed
themselves capable of informing and directing the rest of mankind 1 How many of them
mistook their power! What a number of them were disappointed, and sunk heaesth
the load of calamities peculiar to authors! How many of them were really honest and
hearty in their advocacy of truth? How many of them have ceased to foel an interest in
all that is now done under the sun! 'And if we thus reflect on the authors, what crouds
of ideas may float before the mind respecting the contents of their books, and the inflacsee
they have had for good or evil on the minds of their readers!
Grave and even painful thoughts of this order may be readily diversified on enteriof
other libraries. You go into some circulating collection of novels, and, looking at their
motley titles, from the travels of Baron Manchausen to the haunted castle of Mrs. Bsd-
clifie, you feel that it would be no loss to the world if the whole oontents were cast into
the ocean, or the other side of the breakwater; and, indeed, that no calamity would have
been sustained if they had never been called into existence. You enter into some eleguit
library, where books appear arranged for ornament rather than for use, and you feel r^giet
that so much of external beauty meets the eye, when the more valuabb cootants are
seldom if ever looked into. It was while waiting for a nobleman in such a room, thst
Bums, the poet, took down a splendidly-bound volume of Shakspeaze, and wxute on one of
its fly-leaves the keen and biting stanzas^-
** Through and UtrouRh the clume leaves, I But, oh ! raepeel hie lordihip^e taate,
Ye worms, punae your wiudings ; | And spare Ihe golden bindings."
My remarks, however, have reference, not to public or large libraries, but rather to sfloe
of the small collections which may be found in almost every dwelling of any moderate
respectability. Let a young man, who has preserved his school-books, and out of his
yearly earnings Uid aside some suitable sum for the purchase of books, make additioM
from time to time as his means increase, and he will in the course of time have aooQectioa
BOOKS AXD READXlfO. 07
which will be an honour to his meridian life, and a comfort to his declining years. Sach
a ISknrf, amoantiog erentnallj to a hundred and fifij or two hundred volumes, would be
an inheritance worthj of transmission to his children's children. Let us trj and indicate
what such a coUection might or should be.
A Tdume oo bibllograpbj, which embraces a description of the character and value of
boob in general, would, to saj the least, be useful. One might recommend Dibdin's
"libriry Companion,** Hartwell Homers treatise on the same subject, and Isaac Tajlor's
"Histoiy of the Transmission of Books from Ancient to Modem Times.** A glance at
dicap catalogues would have its use, and a frequent lounge in old book shops, provided
the loanger has courage to keep his monej in his pocket, will, at a cheap rate, enlarge his
teqaaintanee with books in general. Reviews maj be read, but not to be trusted im-
pBdUr. It is said that some reviewers commend books without reading them; and
pofiticsl party or personal considerations, we well know, often give an unfair character of
UiDe or praise to an author and his productions.
A good library, however small, should have in it some works on mental and moral phi-
hnphy. These subjects have respect to our mind and conduct, to the laws and motives
vUeh regulate the one and the other, and therefore are vastly important to us all. On
iMBtil philosophy I may mention, Locke "On the Human Understanding**; Stewart's
"Philosophy**; Mackintosh's " History of Mental Science"; Dr. Thomas Browne's "Men-
tdPhiloeophj,*' and Cousin's " Exposition of Eclecticism." In the latter department of
hUaiiy, Paley's " Moral Philosophy,** and Wardlaw's "Christian Ethics,** are books not to
Wmd only, but to be studied.
A christian man, in forming a library, should have due reganl to some valuable works
M the evidences of natural and revealed religion. Books of all sizes and prices may now
W obtained on this important subject. Paley's " Natural Theology,** edited and improved
W Lord Brougham, merits a careful perusal. Butler's " Analogy of Religion ** is a
■■tcriy jffodnction, and should be read alike for its vigorous thinking, its conclusive
KiManiiig, and its sound theology. The edition to which an Essay by Dr. Wilson, the
KdMp of Calcutta, is pre6xcd, is the best M'CuUoch on "The Attributes," and
^^Whnen on " The Evidences of Christianity," are both good books deserving attention.
Books which relate to history, including geography, topography, and chronology, must
*>t be omitted in our list Ancient histories, as Rollin and Gibbon, should be read. Tho
>(fliGtioiii of the former are religiously good, but somewhat heavy and superfluous; the
•pint of the Utter, it is well to know, is decidedly sceptical. Grote's " History of Greece,"
•4 FergnsMo's " Roman Republic,** with Dr. Arnold's " Histories of Rome,** are all
^''Ittble, the first and last-named works especially so. Mackintosh's " History of
^Ind," Sir W. Scott's " History of Scotland," T. Moore's " History of Ireland,** and
"miagton's " History of Wales," may all be recommended to persons who wish to obtain
* bowledge of the United Kingdom. As a History of Modem Europe, the recent work
^'iiiaQB, though rather prosy in detail, and decidedly Tory in spirit, is the best we have.
^* Amold's " Laeturea on History" are valuable. Hales' " Chronology,*' a costly book in
^viliiiiMi^ eODtaim a vast amount of information on history, geography, and pro^bec^^
^ ii wiitten in a candid christian spirit by a scholarly maiu CQUXk>\«uk '^^^sm^ ^*l
'^^oden tmmb o0er m telectioD to all naderSf guided by tbeir tfA\,« vxidi '^c«9SL<K>^ncA.
68 BOOKS AXD READDTO.
Well-ifritten biographical works are at once attractive and inatmctive. It is an e\U of
this book-making age that works of this order are often so attenoated and prolix as to
fail of their object Johnson's "Lives of the Poets" are a fine specimen of brief
biographies, and of what they onght to be. Franklin's autobiography is veiy instroctive;
and a Tdame called " The Pnrsmt of Knowledge under Difficulties " may be read with
advantage by all persons, but especially by young men.
In referring to general literature, some treatises on language and grammar are indis-
pensable. Your lecturer would recommend a little work on *' The Origin and Progress of
Language " published as a monthly volume by the Religious Tract Society, if he were not
the author of it. Dr. Latham on ^The English Language'* is an admirable productioa;
and Blair's " Lectures on Bhetoric" are very instructive. In the spirit of the old English
adage, which says,
" Let every foreign tongne alone,
Till jou can read and write your own,
I would urge you to make yourselves fully acquainted with the principles and wealth of
the English language. Whately's " Bhetoric" will aid you in using the knowledge thas
acquired; and the mention of his name reminds me that in speaking of the laws of mind,
I ooght to have commended Whately's *' Logic," and Mill's work on the same subject,
with Taylor's " Elemente of Thought."
Poetry has no charms for some minds; but most educated persons feel it not only to be
a luxury, but a blessed and necessary element, intended to meet a want of their higher
nature. Coleridge said, " that the love of it had proved to him its own exceeding great
reward." Our language is rich in poetic compositions, from Chaucer and Spencer, down
to Tennyson and Browning. Some great names are amongst us fiimiliar as housdudd
words. Who would be ignorant of Shakspeare, or plead unacquaintance with Milton, or
Pope, or Cowper? Amongst modem writers we have Byron, who, alas I is not unexcep-
tionable; Moore, whose remains were only recently committed to the tomb; Mtmtgomery —
not he of satanic celebrity, but the quiet christian poet of the modem church — Hood,
whose poems of wit and humour have pathos in them to melt the heart — ^whose ** Song of
the Shirt/ and " One more unfortunate, weary of breath," are justly recited with enwtion
in the cottage and the palace.
But I must conduct you from the enohanting ground of poetry, and alight for a moment
on the more earthly material of scientific knowledge. The science of government ia
growingly important, and every young man ooght to read De Lolme or Custance on "The
Constitution," with Lord John Russell on " The English Government*' Political economy
claims attention, and Adam Smith on " The Wealth of Nations" is a good hook to hart
and to read. A few books on Natural History, and such as embrace Geology, Chemistry,
and Astronomy, ought not to be forgotten in forming a library, for all these departments
of inquiry display the works of the Creator, and exhibit his wisdom, power, and goodness.
I mention last, but not as least, a good oomment«ry on the Bible. It is the book of
books. Its poetry and philosophy, its histories and parables, its doctrines and duties, its
promises and revelations, are all incomparable. A good copy of it, with marginal references^
and another with Soott*s or Henry's " Commentaxy," will make the man of God complete,
" furnished unto every good word and work."
BXPOBTS OF MUTTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES. 69
Tbns hsTe I indicated to 70a some of the sources of knowledge open to the Englbh
todent; and he who has read and comprehended the greater part of the books now ennme-
ated will neither be superficial nor vain, neither ignorant nor self-satisfied! He will not
'eel that he has already attained, or is already perfect ; nor will ho feel paralyzed in the
iDdeaTonr to press forward; bat rather, like the philosopher who thought of himself as a
child playing with pebbles on the sea-shore, he will gird himself np to the task, and launch
out into the ocean of intelligence which on eveiy hand expands itself to his view. — Eev,
Geo. Smith,
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
Kettphtftt! JFritrrM' Society. — The northern
*(vtion of this proBperoun society hehl its first
ocetiDfti in Glssgow on the last day of lti(52 and
^ tirst day of lHHS. It met for important busi*
ttttftDii mutual gratification. Tb«i time chosen
vnsa){({«9tiTe — satisfactory thoughts of the past
knojEbt coneratulatory discourse, and also hope-
^ "■ecoud-sight" into the /uture. On New
Teir's Day the principal meeting was held, pre-
Mied OTer by Uie hon. president and umpire,
tbe taihor of **The Art of Reasoning," and
As eode of laws for the socie^ was then set
^ a pennanent basis. At all the meetings
tke ^flow of knowledge" and the "flow of rea-
mb" were sweetened with the enthusiasm and
j^Mtraal love characteristic of the Neophytes.
^ book, too, occupied the place of the bottle.
Norwu it all in-door enjoyment. The " lions" of
^ Mango were seen ; and a sail down the Clyde
led a ride on the rail brought some of the Neo-
ffk|tes to the maritin of Loch Lomond. The
iMaluaof this section, it may be mentioned, are
AiBost widely separated, geographically, of all
yicetions in the aociety. They reside m Aber-
w^ Edinburgh, Glasgow, KUmamock, Man-
^Wer. and Liver|K>oi; the other four sec-
vM include members resident in Wales and
^ nkUand and aoulhem counties of England.
S great obstacles of space and time the
tee have very successfully impraoticaltzed
of an educational and literarv institute
^ togrther by postal communication ; and,
*"kooRh as yet not many months old, it bids fair
to bccofDe an instrument of great luefulness ; so
<" t^ Neophytes, with *' Festun," it may be said,
"That it is they
"«> set their shoulders to the stall'd world's
wheel,
And give it a hitch forwards."
R. L. S*
^CfcefteidbMR Mutual Improvement Socitey. —
*« soeie^ hdd its second half-yearly meeting
*>Tanday, November 90, 18^2, when about 300
••Ittbiis and friend* were present, and partook
?tt ezceUent sodal repast; afler whicli the
gy. Dr. Brown was called to the chair; and,
**HDg made some very eloquent and practical
^^■As on Uie name of the society, and the
2^tad prind^le in general, concluded by calling
^dM aecmarr (H. W. Lusty) to read the report
^tttepMt half year, which sUted that the society
^ njpUtty progreeelng,ezeeeding the most sau-
"^ ofitsbeatAieDds. The nam-
' io tixty, toeing an '
increase of forty since the last report. Nomerotu
discussions had been held on Important topics,
among which were the following : — ** Has Govern-
ment any right to interfere in Education?" " Can
Christians, under any circumstances, take an
Oath?" "Was Cromwell justified in the Mas-
sacre of Drogheda?" "Was the Government
jusUfied in introducing the Militia BUI?" "Is
the moderate use of Intoxicating Liquors to be
condemned 7 ** " Ought Capital Punishments to
be abolished?" "Which is the most Degraded
State in Europe?" " Is the use of Musiod In-
struments in Divine Worship to be condemned ? "
" Does the Stage Benefit or Demoralize Society?"
" Ought the First or Seventh Day of the Week to
be regarded as the Sabbath 7 " " Was the Nation
justified in Dq»osing and Beheading King
Charles 1. 7 " " Are Works of FicUon beneficial r
" Were the Crusades beneficial to Europe ? " " la
the Character of Queen Elizabeth deserving of
Admiration 7 " " Which is the best form of 60-
vernmeut for a State to possess — a Limited Mo-
narchy, an Absolute Monarchy, or a Kepublic?"
Lectures had been delivered on " The Tendencies
and Resulu of the Crusades," by Mr. Whittard ;
"The Assyrian Antiquities," by the Rev. W. G.
Lewis ; " Central America and its Keroains," by
the Itev. Dr. Brown. Interesting monthly meet-
ings had been held for miscellaneous purposes,
devoted chiefly to reading essays, or selections of
prose and poetry, and recitations. The library
had been greatly increased, and various dassea
established. Great efibrts had been made to
establish a reading-room, and such arrangements
made as would secure in a few days the desired
object. The report concluded by calling on the
members for renewed and strenuous exertions fbr
the good of the societjr. The following members
then spoke on resolutions prepared by the com-
mittee in a manner which, while it hic^luy gratified
the audience, gave indisputable evidence of the
benefits to be derived ftt>m mutual improvement
societies: — Messrs. Keen, D. Channon, C. H.
Channon, Pye, Trotman, Steel, Harrison, Beard,
Workman, and M' Michael. The resolutions were
followed by some excellent remarks fhnn Messrs.
Baker, Winters, the Rev. Mr. Rawlinson, and
others. The subjects were handled admirably,
and drew forth the ft-equent i^yplause of a de-
lighted assemblage. The ohaiiinan then tenni-
nated the meeting bv a necessarily brief address.
The history of this soeiety exemplifies in a
striking degree what may he dome vj «s.«fi«m.
Twelve months ago the sot^tty nMSsAkcce^XraXiKaK.
individuals, who were wVlkoMX tavj |5t*»X vD«mEb!w
70
BXPOBXB OF mrrOAX* DIPBOTCHBIT 0OCIKXU&
of penonal iafluenee, bnl eontmiMd boldin||r tlMir
weekly diseiusion meetings for one month without
the sbghteat increase ; st the end of which time
one person joined them, and in another mouth
two more joined them, making the total number
of members at the end of three months, nine.
Since that time the society has gradually increased
until the present time (January 10, \8Si). It now
numbers one hundred members, possesses a read-
ing-room (open erery evening from six till half-
past ten), well supplied with the requisite papers
and periodicals ; a valuable library of circulation ;
classes for the study of music, phonography,
mathematics, and English grammar ; and all the
requisites for a permanent and useful educational
establishment. The oommittee are now engaged
in securing a course of lectures, which will shortly
be published. The soeie^ is entirely unseotarian,
and independent of support from any persons
except members,— H. W. L.
Hebden Bridge Mutuul Improvemtnt Society .
— ^The members of this society held their anniuil
featival on Saturday, January 1, IBAS. After the
removal of the trays, the Rev. T. J. Walker was
called upon to preside. The secretary, Mr. J.
ClMp, then lead a report of the past year's pro-
eeedings. During that time upwards of thirty
lectures had been delivered, including a valuable
course of eight lectures on the liOrd's Prayer by
the Bev. T. Hisk ; eight on theology, by Mr.
Thomas Walton ; six on chemistry, by Mr. H. W.
Horsfkll; and five, by Mr. J. H. Robinson, ou
various Bcientifie sul^ta. In addition to the
leeturee, one evening in each month had been
devoted to recitations of prose and poetry. The
library now contains about 114 volumes of choice
and valuable books.
The persona comprising the society are divided
into two sections, termed shareholders and mem-
ben. The former pay a weekly eubsoription of
one penny each, and poaseas an equal share in
the prop^y. The latter pay a penny per month,
and ei^joy all the benefits of the institution, but
have no share in the property, and no vote in the
pur^ase of books, apparatus, Ice. Any member
or other person wishing to join the fonmcr sec-
tion can do so by paying a certain per oentage on
the amount alrMoy paid up by eaicai shareholder,
together with the weekly subscription. After the
report had been read, the meeting was addressed
by the Rev. O. Greenwood, Messrs. Walton. Cock-
eroft, HorsfaU, Robinson, Barker, and others.
We trust that from this oooasion the society will
receive a frash unpetua, and will go on with iur
creased vigour and saeeess.
SkiptOH fin CraveuJ Youm Men't Muiual
Improventent Society^ Zi/on Chapel,— T\m so-
ciety waa formed in Oetobor, 1651 , and at its com-
menoement eonsiated of eight members, but has
increased during the past year to forty. The his.
tofy of the elasa fhmi its formation has been one
of steady progreas and growing tnlareat, and it
has been of much benefit to its members.
A merting fordisoossion is held every Tuesday
evening, presided over by the Bev. R. Gibbe.
JBach queatiott ia introduced with an cssa^ written
by tbe proposer of the sulgecL During its exist-
ence twenty<«even essays have been read, and the
BulpeelBoftiMmdiseuased. Tbe following, among
a number of other subjects.have elieiled animated
diaouaslona: — 1. ««Is tbe oharaoter of Oliver
CmmweU wortl^ of admiration 7 " 2. ** Ought
Railway Trains to run on the Sabbath?** 3.
'* Are the English justified in the taking and re-
taining of British India?" 4. <• Had WUKam
the Conqueror any right to the Throne of Eng-
land ? * 5. " Is the character of the late Duke of
Wellington, as a Statesman, worthy of applause ?"
6. " Is the MUitia necessary and just r 7. ** Was
the Exeeutioo of Charles I. juatiJlable 7 ** & Was
Mouaohism beneficial or ii^urious in the Time*
it existed, and did it ultimately prove such to
European Society 7" The presidoit, the Bev. R.
Gibbs, has delivered four lectures to the members
and friends of the society on the following sub-
jects :— 1. " Self-cultivatiou." 3. " Bunyan and
his Times." 3. Tbe relation of the B ible to Civil
and Religious Liberty, and the Rights of Con-
science." 4. ** The character of Zwingli, the Swiss
Reformer."
On Tuesday, Januarv 4, 1853, the nonban and
friends of the society held theu- first annual lea
meeting, in the British schoolroom, kindly lent
by Johu Dewhurst, Esq., when uptvards of 140
persona partook of an excdlem \ml. A publie
meeting waa afterwards held, when eeveral mem-
bers gave addresses upon self-«uitivation,and tbe
benefits to be derived fema connexion with aneh
institutions. The president closed the evemng's
proceedings with a powerful and stirring speesh,
m which he advertMi to the steady improveoMit
he had witnessed among the members, and ea>
pressed his desire that they should persevere; not
resting contented with present acquiremeDta, but
to go on determinedly in the pursuit of truth.
The meeting broke up about ten o'dodc, highly
gratified wiui the evening's entertainmenL
At a general meeting on the Uth inataat the
following resolution was passed unanimuualy : —
** That the society take in the BrUiek Controvert
•ialUt and '*The Literary and Sdenlifio Lee
turer," monthly ; and, also, that the volunes
•Ireadv published of these periodicala be pur-
chased in the monthly parts.' — D. S.
JSkefield WeeUyon Aseoeimiion Tamnq Mem"*
ImtUule.— On Thnradajr, Dcoember 90, iS&S, the
young men connected with this aasoeialion held
their annual tea meeting, fan the laiye room be-
longing to the inatituts,Tudor-plaee. Conaiderii^
that the meeting was open only to memboa and
oandidatce, the atteudanee waa good, alHuMigb
not so large as the year before. From the repoit
it waa found that the society now numbered
ninety-two members and candidates; and, al-
though the average attendance has not been so
good as it ought to have been, still it was better
than in some previous years. During the year a
spirited and A-iendly competition had been earned
on in the various week-night olaases. Gnidcn'»
** CoDcordanie," and a work entitled " Lights of
the World," wan awarded to brathar William
I Griffiths as the first priaes in ttw EngUafa gian-
j mar andoomposiiion classes. TheTraeC So^ir's
, edition of Buuyan's " Pilgrkos'e Prosreaa,** and a
poeket oommentary on tite New Teatamant, wer*
awarded to brother AUVed Lawl» aa tbe aeaand
in the above-named olasaea. Dr. Dick's ** Celestial
Scenery,*' and ** The Histoiy of Jeruaakm," woe
awarded to brotho- Jamea Pearson aa the first
prises in the arithmetic and second graoamar
elaases. After the repoit waa read* tbe msirfaig
was addressed by the Bev. Jamca Wnl (ike
ohaiRnan), Mr. Charles Wardlaw, Jon^ Mr. T. B.
Shuttlsworth»aad Mr.E.Liatw, on the impor.
BEPORT8 or MUTUAL IMPBOVEUESIT SOCIRTIKfl.
1
■nee of elmntm of tbis deseripiionj the nereiwiry
4 improvinir th« mind, «ud ezhortinff the youitfr
Bcn lo UM their iitmutt undeuvoun not ciiily to
lapnte thrir own mtlendmnee, but nUio to brinfi
OClm with tbtriB, and thu« be the nieuiift uf in-
emdng the UMMnem of tlie inHUuition, and
okmluig the aphere of ita labours. The oveiiinfr
*■ enliveneil with various recitatious Kivifn by
Bcaibeni; and. afWr a voU: of thaiiks to tbr chair-
an tad the Uidien who had kindly pnrsided over
the tea, the meetuifc broke up. all iteeininK well
&ed with tbe uuaniraity and nowl fueling that
pivradcd throughout the evening. — W. O.,
krmary.
MoMktom I'uun^ Mm'w I.iterurti Hnrietti. —
On the evening of Thundar, Dereinber 'M), ihe
■caAen of this society ff»ve a suinn- within the
pnh Nchoolroom at Munkton. The auiiimce
■H large and rwpectable, numbering about 'J(iO.
Ihtbe alnenci; of tlit* Kcv. Dr. Ijawrie . ininistrr
rffte parinh, frpm imlixposilton, ihe duties ut
eWnnan werr very elfiriently diaulioryred by tbe
lir. Kfbert Pollock, of GLa«piow, aujipurted by
At lev. John Forbes, of Ayr, and Mr. Flfininff,
'«.,of Troon. The Rev. Mr. Pcliock, having
Bfaed the proreedin^rs with prayer, frave a short
iBUvdoetory address, intemiiemed wiiji a few very
iMmatinic anrcilotrs. The company then par-
Msk of a service of tarts ; and, hnvini; been enter*
iHMd for a short time witli singinic, tbe Ruv.
Md Forbes rose and addrtsMeil the meeting at
•nuderable length on the neci^ssity of combining
Malar with religious eduration, and the benetiis
twtsiiig Oicrefrom. A few select songs were then
|P*«i,aitsr which Mr. Fleming rone and addressed
^ Bteting on reading, and in a lengiby and
^ iueicstinff address, whicli was listened to
MOghont with marice«l attention, pointed out
As Woks which ought to be read, tlie manner in
*kUi Iher should be read, and the advantagv s to
ktMvad from such reaiiing. Mr. Fleming,
Wiiag spoken for a considerable time, sat down
^fiqriBg that, amid all the changes going on by
■ifraiioo, &c , we may rest secure upon II im
I'M the Bock of ages : and hope, joy, and light
aninwle uur souls when we know that
is no other name under heaven given
nen whereby we can be saveil, but the
! of Jesus Christ." Another service was then
0"n the eompany. and a few more songs sung :
ite which the chairman maiie a few concluding
Is. He was sure tlie company would agrve
I kia when he said tliat the manner in which
jketBtrftainnMnt thia evening had rumc off was
"j'ms. Everything had gone on rx-
ly well, and reflected great credit on the
rmen the members or the society. He also
tbe vocalists for the admirable
' in which they had <lone their pan ; and,
' ' ; down, he beggeil to mi>ve that a vote
be given to tlie Rev. Mr. Forbes and
■bFhnlng for tbe excellrnt addrvsses with
*Uih Aej bad been kind enough to favour tbe
Mr. Cowan then moved that a vote of
tendered to tlie Rev. Mr. Pollock for
in attending tlie soiree tbat evening,
N for Ibe very eioellent manner jn which he
^ fcihfgeJ Ihe dutiea of cbuirmiui. Btith
^Vtana bariiiir been earricd witli audamation,
^OBBasnvanMsled.— 8. C, Secretary.
,_ JaU^^H'^k-tHrtetUrhmtimgCluh.
*^%wn\tinf%9imtn Ibmi Hum in mnother so-
ciety which owes its existenire to the suggestions
contained in our magazine. It is establihhrd for
tlie disouasion of all questions except religious
ones, and very animated debates have already
taken place on tbe subjects of phrenology and the
inentHlity or woman. The meetings are held
every Thursday evening, from eight till ten o'clock.
Stockport. — Orrhani-ttrtfl Chaprl Voung
Mrnw Mutual Imjtntremrnt Soctftif. — On
Cbri»tma»-4lHy Inst the second annual gathering
of the memlien of this society ami tlicir friends
took pluve in tbe schoolroom. Tea was served,
to wliii-h nearly 2(M) sat down ; but, that room
proviiii; too small lor the company, they afyourued
in'.o tlic rha^ifl, where they piiHstd a very com-
fortable evciiinir. The presidnit of the cla-is (tlie
Rev. A. Clarke) took the chair The secretary 'h
report was very favourable, and a diseiMsion wiw
ably curried on by four u( the members as to
" Whetiier Kiifrland would decay like the ancient
nationi bad done?"— after which tlie nieinbers
eontriliub d very successrully to the vi^oyiuent of
the evening.— W. U.
MnrioH Litrrartf AVwir/.v* — The second SMiret-
of tlie above union was held on ChriHtiiins eveu-
ing. in a spacious room atyoiniiig the lowii-hall,
B'lla, at tiiiir o'clock. A party ol about S.'K) highly
res)iecialile ladies aud gentlemen sat down to aii
excellent tea.
At the coiniurnccment of the mectinir, after tea,
the party was greatly augmented. A little alter five
o'clock. Mr. G. Jones was called to tlie chair by
the unanimous voice of the meeting. His adiiress
was concise, hut very appropriate for the occasion.
He then called upon tbe representatives of thi-
different branches to read their reports, which
showe<l them to be in a very riourishing ud
hojicful condition. In the course of the meetiuK
several adiliesses were deliveivd ; some very
pathetic, and all tended to tlie ei^oyment of the
audience. I'he addresses were intervened by glees,
sung by the choir of the society, an«l the readiof;
of adju'licatitms upon subjects laid out by tlu*
society for competition, both in prose and verse.
The prizes were awarded to tlie successful ean-
diilaies. The procceiliuKS of tbe evening termi-
nateit about nine o'clock, and every oue present
appeared to be well satisfietl with them.
We have to tliank the eiiitors of the Bri~
tish ControrrrtialiMt for the grrat benefit we
have derived fh>m their invaluable magazine;
and we entertain tbe strongest ho|io of siHiinp a
ma^ziue ofthi^ descriptiim started in tlie Welsh
langiiaKe, and do sincerely believe tliat it woidd
lie the greaieNt boon which could be conferred
upon the princiiiality. e«peciall^ if eomlui'ied in
a candid and truth-seeking spint. — E. J.
I The Edinburyh young JUen$ Atnoriation.^-
i Thu as!>0(.*iation has been in existence for nearly
I tliree years. The session was oi>encfl on the first
} Friday in October by a lecture to young men by
the president, and subHcquently by aililrc^ses fWmt
' the Rev. R. W. F'raser, on the study of science,
' and James Simpson, Esq , advocate, on secular
education.
I The associatitm held its half-yearly soiree on
Friflay, the 7th ultimo, when a larxe conipaiiT
assembled. The chair was occupied by Mr. T.
Usher, president, wbo opened the proreedings b^
, a rhytlimical addreM. KddT«ftM% wtii% ^m> te-
' livered by Mr. Wm»mI>«uVa,oiv«lLmviBrsi3««i*r
Mr. Aleuud« Bro^ uu^T^'ftvaffBe«a<A'^v
72
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVBMENT 80CIBTISB,
Atsooiation ;" Mr. John WUson, Jan., on '* The
Social Influence of the Female Sex ;" and bj the
chairman, on '* Soelality." Mr. Turner, een., and
Mr. Templeman, the latter of whom represented
the Edinbui^h Temperance Mutual ImproTement
Societj, also addressed the meeting. Mr. James
Turner delivered e poetical address, and a number
of the ladies and gentlemen present entertained
the company with songs and recitations. The pn>>
priety of union with other societies, by moans of
quarterly social meetings, or to pursue some other
united course of action, was strongly uiiged, there
being a oonnotion that the strength of such so-
cieties is not sufficiently exerted among the moral
instrumentality of the age.
The Bdinburgk ControvenuU Mutual Im-
provrment Society held its monthly meeting on
Wednesday erening, January 12, m Sinclair's
Temperance Hotel, South St David-street. The
following gentlemen wereehosentheoflice^bearers
for the ensuing year: — Mr. T. Usher, president ;
Mr. J. B. Robertson, vice-president; and Mr.
James Cowan, secretary and treasurer. The
next meeting takes place on Wednesday, February
9, when one of the members will read an essay
on " Cowper." The attendance of friends is re-
spectAilly inrited.
The Olatgow Zetetie Society held iU quarterly
meeting, in Buchanan's coffee-house, on the even-
ing of Wednesday, December 29, 1852, for the
purpose of electing office-bearers for the ensuing
year. After the appointments had been made,
and reft^shmenta served up, sereral of the men^
bers delivered eloquent addresses on subjects
bearing upon the benefits which are derived tVom
literary associations. Two of the honorary mem-
bers, iu giving in their testimony as to the advan-
tages wmch accrue to young men on being mem-
bers of such a society as this, made some very
appropriate and practical remu^s. In connexion
with this society there is a manuscript magazine,
which is issued on the first of every month ; only
the members contribute, and all the articles
must be original. The subjects which have
already graora its pages are various, both in
prose and verse. The society meets once a week,
and the exercises have consisted of opinions,
debates, essays, sketches, and lectures. The fol-
lowing questions are to be discussed during tlie
present session :— ** What are the best means for
developing the resources of Australia? " *' W^ere
the Crusades beneficial to E urope f " "Is Poverty
or Luxury most productive of Crimk 7 '* ** Have
we a right to take possession of and colonise any
Island we may discover 7 " " Was the Execution
of Mary Queen of Scots Justifiable 7 "
PaitUy Voung Men'M Deb€Uinff Societif.^Tht
fint half-yearly supper of this sorirty was held in
the Saracen's H«ftd Inn, on Friday evening,
Dec. 10, 1859— Mr. O. Graham, president pro
tem,f in the chair ; and Mr. B. L. Henderson,
eroupier. After the removal of the cloth, the pre-
sident delivered the closing address of the ses-
sion, and subsequently the reportof the seeretaiy
was presented and adopted, and Uie treasurer^
account read. Toasts to the following eflbot were
given and responded to :— ** The Boyal Family ; "
'* Prosperity to the Pabley Toung Men's Debating
Society;" *< Poetry and Music;" "Town and
Trade of Paisley ; " •• The Ladies : " " The Press ; "
"The Fine Arts;" "Kindred AseodaUons.**
Thtm were intarsparMd with some ehoiee musical
effusions. This society is one of the off^oots of
the modem abridgment of the hours of labour,
and we trust has been in the short period of its
existence (six months), and will continue to be, an
invaluable boon in the hands of youth desirous of
mental improvement; and— acting as it does as a
check to the floodgetes of vice and immorality, so
destructive io the weUkre of society. We trust it
will be appreciated in a coming session, and go on
in its noble career, oonouering and to conquer, in
the region of mentality, liavinff its stakes strength-
ened, and its cords lengthened, bv the addition of
a vigorous and healthy membership, and an abia
staff of office-bearers, anxious to promote the beet
interests of socie^, and thus render it the means
of breaking up the fkllow ground of ignorance
and mental inactivity, and of directing the ten-
dencies of a young and rising generation in soch
a direction as shul promote the best interests of
self and country.
Milngavie Mechaniea* Ifutitutitm. — On Fri*
day evening, the 7th of January, the members
and friends of the above institution held a social
festival in the Congregational Hall. The pre-
sident (Mr. B. Crawford) occupied the chair, and
delivered an appropriate address on *' SociaUcy.**
The following monbers addressed the meeting : —
Mr. T. Douglas, on ** Self-duties ;" Mr. J. Hy8]<9,
on *' The Liberty of the Press ;" and Mr. H. Car-
miehael, on ** The Age we live in.'* The latter
Sentleman, after a ftw preliminary remarks,
ireeted attention to the achievements of these
three great civilising agents— the railway line,
the ocean steamer, and the electric telegraph.
Who had not felt a thrilling emotion in attempt-
ing to comprehend the significance of that one
fkct, that intelligence is conveyed fhmi London
to Paris at the rate of 200,000 miles in one second
of time, a speed that would go round our earth
about 480 times in a minute 7 But wishing to
spesk of the more obvious charaeteristics, the
mst would be that time and distanee were all
but annihilated. In proof of this, he contrasted
the past with the present, and went to show that
the age is teeming with beneficial changes, which
have sc^tered amongst all ranks of sSodety the
most varied and delightAil blessings. Secondly,
it was an i^ of restless activity in every depart-
ment of human entenwise. Who did not see
everywhere around them the monuments of our
gigantic slides in the iprogress of civilisation 7
Mountains had been pierced, and valleys had
been spanned; the earth was endrelcd with a
network of railways, and the seas had become
the busy highway of nations. In dilalang on the
unequalled progress which the useftkl arts had
made in this country, and the national opuleMs
and greatness of which thev had been the prime
source, he aontended that there are Tet otiier and
greater conquests in prospect to bless her, and
Uirough her, the world. It was no ovenbeteh
of the imagination to reco^^nise in the things cf
ftaturity, sdence, with piercing eyes and tordi in
hand, penetrating >till ftirther into the arcana of
nature, and opening up to human gase mysteries
nnrevealed from the foundation of ths world.
But, thirdly, the present was a reading age. And
doubtless this thirst for knowledge had eonbi>
buted more than any other cireumstanee to Ihs
well-being of society ; the tendency of soeh a
spirit being to open np new channels of coa»>
munieation between nan and nMB. Verily, many
THE IXQUIRVR.
73
were nuuiiag to and fro, and knowledge wa«
being increased. Would that he could aaj of it
aU, how beneficial in operation, how valuable in
poMcaslon ! But while the larger portion of it
bore the ** guinea stamp," there was no small quan
titj- of base and spurious metal in circulation ;
for there was a peculiar class of authors of the
present day, who, taking advantage of a growing
taste Tor reading, were disseminating a certain
popular kind or writing, which not only stimu-
lated the worst passions of our nature, but pan-
dertd to the lowest and most debasing appetites.
What would be the result of such deleterious
stuff upon the uneducated mind 7 It was vain to
deny the startling and awfUl conclusion, that,
like all other poisons, it would produce a moral
deadnass, which comes to look at ever)'thing
vicious as not only harmless, but pleasant, and
ultimately to practise it unhesitatingly. With
surh means at work, he had strong faith in the
ultimate triumph of our cheap moral literature—
« thoughts that breathe, and words that bum ;'*
and he rqoiced in the fhct, that nothing had
contributed more than mechanics' institutions to
place the pleasures and recreations of oure lite-
rature vrithin the reach of, all true seekers, fur-
nishing them with the best companions when
alone, and sweetening and elevating the social
and domestic circle. In conclusion, it was an
age of progress, and its tendency was onward-
right on. Happily we did not require to leave
our own shores to know what progress was.
Our country presented the most magnificent
exhibition of progress in the world — a nation
which, in spite of the boa«ts and threats of others,
had long reigned the sole mistress of the seas,
and her flag now floated over the richest provinces
of tha world. But there was a time when dark-
ness covcn^ our land, and gross darkness the
minds of the people — ^a time when scenes were
enacted in our midst which go to darken the
bloodiest pictures in the book of time. He called
special attention to the great tide of emigration
which had distinguished 1852. Who would draw
aside the curtain of the future, and permit them
to gaze upon Australia fifty years hence ? None
would attempt the super-human task; still he
anticipated a glorious prospect Who did not
feel it to be an elevated and noble work to plant
the foot of British enteii)ri8e, and extend her
sceptre br the banks of streams unnamed, and
over fertile regions yet unknown? and a yet
nobler work U> diffuse over a new created world
the spirit of our/zvc Institutions, the language
of our Shakspeare, the morals of our Milton,
and that christian religion, the last great heritage
of man? Australia possessed all the advantagea
aud fiicilities which contribute to greatness and
strength. And, perhaps, before the young men
who so recently left their owr village to find
there a home have grown old, Australia miriit
become a great, fne, and prosperous nation, in
conclusion, he urged all to bestir themselves, and
not to allow the world of mind to linger in its-
course, holding out the incentive, that there was-
no real genuine progress, but as the result of
more extended knowledge ; and was there not an
exciting hope in contemplating the tendency of
the age, breaking up old landmarks, chasing-
away the fogs which now obscure the intellect,
and clearing the moral perceptions of mankind,
so that those who hare faith m the truth that a
good time is coming, can afford to overlook any
remaining vestiges of darker times, and see them
sink beneath the brightening rays of a brighter
future. The proceedings of the evening were
much enlivened by two nieces of recitation, given
in excellent style by Mr. H. Ross, Jun. ; also
songs and duets ttom two deservedly popular
vocalists, Mrs. McMinn and Mr. W. Locke.-
Pastry ami fhiit were served to the company at
intervals during the evening, and the roeetinff^,
which was a very interesting one, passed off with
the greatest ecldt.
Airdrie Voung Men'i Society. — The members
of this society, with their male and female friends,
to the number of seventy, held their seventh
annual soiree on the evening of Wednesday, the
12th January; Mr. Thomas A. Macfarlane, the
president, in the chair. After a service of tea»
and the singing of a hymn by the meeting, the
chairman opened the proceedings in an able ad-
dress on "The Young Men of Airdrie, their
' Position and Prospecti?' Addresses were after-
wards delivered by Mr. W. Hutton, on " Self^
Improvement;" Mr. W. Brown, on" Biography;"
Mr. John Hunter, on " Music ;" Mr. A. Leal, on
" Byron ;" and by Mr. J. W. Gillespie, on " Mu-
tual Improvement Societies." The intervals be-
tween these addre.«ses were agreeably occupied
by glees, duets, songs, aud recitations, and by
the enlivening strains of a «mall instrumental
band. The meeting seiiarated shortly after one
o'clock, baring spent a most harmonious and
instructive evening. — W. B., Sec.
€\i SEqnm
QUESTIONS REQUIRING ANSWERS.
143. After some months* experience in debating
I have greatly felt the want of a more systematic
roodo of thinking y fhim my inability to reply to
the arguments or objecUous brought forward by
the opposite side in a debating society in VLw spe-
cified time required. The subject>matter of the
evening ganenilly appears to my confused mind
enveloped in mystery, as if I was deprived of my
inteUeetoal powers; whilst the delivery of my
prepared speeches i^ characterized by an excellent
style. As I wish to arrive at a degree of efficiency
m the art of speaking, and as I believe myself to
be deficient in that most fiindamenul part of it,
viz., to think quickly, will any of your corre-
spondents be pleased to sugvest any plan likely
to meet my requirements? — Tin on.
143. Will some of your readers bekindenongh,
through the pages of your valuable periodical, to
assist a scriptural student by supplying him with
the information of the price, aud names of the
o
Kgtn Inocd, 3<,nM,3}a| Gnitmnii
opiul... H^ljJnol
THE DIQUIBBft.
75
till jon haf« made • loIenMf thick tube. Let
thii tube b« left to drj In the open air, end, whra
perfMtlf drr, eover il with eape-ekin. A quuter
of e ctpMkin will eoTer two or three tube*, which
me^be had for Is. ; mod then you h«Te, Aeap end
ViMxn, joar eeoond tobe. On this tube rrpeat the
inoesss is on the wooden roller, frequcntl jr sliding
ttjp snd down the inner tube, to prerent them
atiddng together. By this means yon will obtain
ths lint tube, int: whieh the second will slide
ti^tly when co^'ered with the cape-skin. For
the other two or three tubes repeat the process on
a thick sebQolroom ruler, carefully pnMsing all
^ eressings out. Now yon only have to make the
6ttiiws for the object and eye glasses. This is
equally easy. Make the second tube two Inches
and a half longer than you nf ed ; eut off those
two incbes end a half of the tube, and in the piece
fit Tour olgect^iglass in a gutta pereba frame, which
will slide into the Ifavt tube. Fix the eyeglass
is a iintta pereha frame also, and insert it in the
rod of the last tnbe. By this means you may
most the focus of the eve-gflass to the' focus of
the objeewglaas. When this is done you hare an
iaMnmient which will open to your vision the
higher grandeur of the solar system. All this you
may do, as *' RoUa " assuredly did, to his infinite
talfsfhetlon and delight, with what— ^ to £107—
oh ! no ; &s. or less, and a little ingenuitT and
psdenca. The second way is to do this with ainc
ahseting, or send it with directions to a clever
ptomber and giasier, which may cost yon 5s. or
6i. This is not so light, of course, as paper,
vkieh is not so well for astronomical purposes. —
ROLLA.
C. C. K. will find it much cheaper to bay an
f aatronomioal telesecpe ready made than to make
ooe himself, the chief expense being caused by the
larger of the two lenses, whieh, being very dimcult
to make, coots about two-thirds the prioe of Uie
eotiie liMtrument. The best are made in Oer-
many. For other information (on roagnilVing
power, field of view, ite.) I would refor to Cod-
(finium's ** Optics," or to the article on telescopes
in Boodwm's ** Mathematical Course."— L.
195. A Sunday Sekooi Teaeher'» Library.--
We tre glad to have an opportunity of answering
the inquiry of ** Edward," for he appears to be
eoe who has a just impreesion of the impoitance
of nbbath school inslruetion. and a laudable de-
ws to prepare himself for elfldently carrying it
00. The work in which he is engaf^ is worthy
of all the attention he can give, and it will amply
lepay his most selMenying efforts. To the in-
npcrienced and nneamest it may appear desti-
tate of any attractions ; but to the iUth-lovIng, per-
Mvsring tsaeher it will have manifold charms.
Bat to ** Bdward '* these remarks are evidently
unDeeeesary, and we shall proceed to give him
ths directions he solicits.
, For eonveying correct ideas of the nature of the
iastruction which should be given in Hunday
sdiools, with copious directions for eondueting
these insiitulions, we can oonfldeutly recommend
Mn. Davids' *' Sunday School," price 4«. ; Col-
lias's ''Teaoher^s Companion," 4s. : Todd's ** Sun-
<)av School Teacher," Is. ; and Inglis's '* Sabbath
School," Vs. 6d. The latter we hesitate not to pro-
ooimee to be the most praetical work on the sub-
•set in the English language.
If ** B Jwara's " class is composed of elder
Mbolars, he may, peritaps, derive benefit from
consulting Cooper's ** Senior Class,** Is. fid. ;
Halls "Crisis," Is.; and- Watson on "Senior
Classes," 0d. ; but if, on the eoatrary, he has a
jimior class committed to his ears, he should
peruse Reed's *• lofont Class, ' Is. fld. ; ** Lessons
to lufhnt Classes," Is ; aud Green's "Sunday
School Addresses," Is. ; in which some of the
great truths of scripture are set forth in language
the most simple, and in a manner the most in-
teresting.
If, in addition to works of this character,
"Bdward" desires to be recommended to some
that will assist him in the preparation of his lea-
sons, and the explanation and illustration of
scripture, we would refer him to the following, the
value of which we have tested by experience :—
Barnes's " Notes on the Oospels, 4s. ; 6umey*s
" Dictionary of the Bible ;" " The Jewish Nation^
Manners and Customs, Rites and Worship. Laws
and Polity," 5s. ; " Scripture Manners and Cus-
toms," published by the Christian Knowledge
Society ; and Mimpms's " Treasury Harmony of
the Four Evangelists."
If no regular course of leosons be pursued in
the school to which our friend belongs, we would
recommend him to adopt those in the annual list
published by the Sunday Sdiool Union, and to
obtain their suggestive " Notes on the Lessons,**
published monthly at Id. each ; or he might take
as his guide in this matter Althans's " Teacher's
Assistant," Is., whieh contains 160 seiipture sub-
jects, with doctrinal and praetical lessons from
the Old and New Testaments.
Any or all of these works will prove valoabla
aids to " Edward," if he use them aright, and not
allow them to prevent the development of his own
independent thoughts. — J. A. C.
135 and Idfi. A Siadent't Xtfrrory.^The fol-
lowing list contains some of the works in divinity ,
science, and general literature, usually found in a
student's library: — 1. The classical authors of
Greece and Rome— the editions of Tauchnitx are
the best; S. Andrews's Latin Dictionary; 3. Ar-
nold's Greek and Latin Exercises; 4. Baeon's
Essays; 5. Beatson's Greek Iambics; 0. Bible,
with marginal references ; 7. British Controver-
sialist. Vols. I., II., III. ; 8. Burton— History of
Christian Church ; ». Butler's Analogy of Reli-
gion; 10. Butler's Sermons, with preface by
Wbewell; 11. Buttman's Greek Grammar; 19.
Cicero's Verrine Orations, by Long; 13. Cruden'a
Concordance to the Bible ; 14. De Morgan's
Arithmetic ; 15. Donaldson's New Cratylus ; 10.
Donaldson's Varronianus ; 17. Donaldson's The-
atre of the Greeks; 18. Elsley's Annotations on
the Gospels: 19. Euolid, large edition, by R.
Potts : SO. Findlay's (or Arrowsmith's) Classical
and Modem Atlas ; dl. Giles's English-Greek
Lexicon ; 23. Goodwin's Course of Elementary
Mathematics; S3. Goodwin's Examples and
Problems ; S4. Gradus ad Pamassum (Amold'a
Antioleptie) ; S5. Greek TesUment, by Alford, 3
vols.; Sfl. The Oxford Greek Testament, with
reforences, &e.; S7. Halls Diffsrential and In-
tegral Calculus; S8. Hitchcock's Religion of
Geology; SO. Hooker's Works, with Walton's
Life, S vols., Oxford; SO. History of the Chris •
tian Church; 31. Lid<iell and Scott's Greek
Lexicon, 4lo.; 3j. Liturgy compared with the
Bible; 33. Macaulays lb Mays : 34. Maurice's
Moral and Metaphysical Philosophy; 35. MuU
ler's IritaraUire of Andent Greece; 30. Paley's
76
TBB laqonatB.
EvidflDocs uid Hone FsalimB, edited by Potu ;
87. Plato— SuaibAUin'ft text best; 38. Prayer
Book (Church of England); 99. Rlddell and Ar-
nold'e Euglish-Latin Lexicon ; 40. Roger*' Ea-
aaTs; 41. Scbleftel't PhiloM>ph7or Hbtory; 42.
Schlegers Philosophy of Life and Language; 43.
Sehlecel's Lectures on Dramatic Literature ; 44.
Schmita' Histories of Greece and Borne; 45.
Sbakspeare— Collier's edidon ; 4tt. Smith's Dic-
tionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities; 47.
Smith s Dictionary of Greek and Roman Bio-
graphy and Mythology, 3 vols.; 48. Snowball's
lane and Spherical Trigonometry ; 49. Sophocles
— WUnder's edition; dO. Stewart's Outhoes of
Moral Philosophy ; 61. Tables o( Logarithms
(Uutton's) ; 52. Tacitus, edited by Bitter, 4 toIs. ;
63. Taylor (Jeremy)->Uoly Living and Dying;
61. Thiriwall's History of Greece. 8 vols.; 56.
Thucydides, by Arnold, 3 vols. ; 66. Todd's Stu-
dent's Guide; 57. Todd's Index Rerum ; 58.
Voltaire— La Henriade, ke. : 59. Welchman— the
Articles of Religion ; 60. WestcoU's Elements of
Gospel Harmony; 61. Whewell's Mechanics;
68. Whewell's Elements of Morality; 63. Wood's
Elements of Algebra; 64. Wordsworth's Theo-
philuB Anglieanus; 65. Zumpt's Complete Latin
Grammar, translated by Schmitz. Of these, the
mott neceisarj/ for "Edward" would be Nos. 6,
8, 18, 26, ao, 32. 30, 38, 50, 53, 59, 60 ; and, before
ail, 64. For «• A Law Student, " Nos. 1, 2, 4, 7, 9.
12, 17, I9,31,3:i-<J5, 39, 41, 44, 46 and 47, 54, 67,
63, 64, and 05. It will be observed I have
omitted all mention of books of poetry, travels,
ftc, which cannot strictly be considered educa-
tional ; but no one who wiiihes to be well read,
and to master the English languai^e thoroughly,
should fail to read, as opportunity occurs, the
works of Herbert, Milton, Addison, Pope, Young,
Akenside, Houthey, Tennyson, &c.— of Bryant
and Longfellow. The works of the Rev. Robert
Wilson Evans, especially his " Ministry of the
Body," with Wordsworth's " Theopbilos Angli-
canus," would be a great help to Sunday school
teachers ; and in " Warren's Lew Studies " " A
Law Student" will find a fund of admirable advice
witii respect to every part of bis profession.— L.
140. LoyicaUff True and PrarticMy FaUf.~~-
" Homo " does not require proof that if, of two
bodies, one moves twelve times faster than the
other, and both round the same circle, one will
overtake the other. He is satistled that the
awidest will certainly overtake the slowest ; yet
some specious stumbling-block has hidden this
plsin truth iu the case to which he relers ; there-
fore does he adroit, like Berkley, that though he
can see, feel, and modify material things, he still
has no proof of material existence. The only
difference is, that, while the argument to prove
the non-existence of matter is incontestable, the
•rgumiait to prove that a swift motion is no faster
than a granted alower one is evidently open for
debate. But I would express a doubt as to
irhetlier it is not the abnence of logic that has
brought what " Homo " calls the logical conolu-
aion, just as the a6«ene« of a pendulum from a
elock will destroy the usual propertiea of a clock,
or the ab§ence of a chain fVom the windlass will
vemove the natural effect^ of labour at the winch ;
fbr logic profesMCs to be either a mere instnimenl,
or to tell us hotc to act ; it does not profess to
supply pendulums for measuring our evidence,
nor chains for connecliug cause with effect, and
inatniment with objeet. Logic is a code of law*
and cautions. Theee are intended to goide and
instruct. There is nothing magical about them.
In no way are they connected with alliteration,
key-writing, or chemistry. They alwaya inform
and enlighten, but never rule the judgment. How»
therefore, anything can be lo^eally true and
practically false must be determined satisfactorily
by those who place logic in the office of the dic-
tator. The fallacy appears to be this, that, after
*' Homo " has allowed the hands to move their
respective distances, and in the stated time, he
thinks there still remains -^ of 5 minutes to the-
minute hand. No <^ remains. Thus: — ^The
muiute hand is at 5 minutes to 1, and the hour
hand at -^ of that distance to I ; while the minute
hand movbs at a speed twelve times greater than
the hour hand. Such is the statemenL It may
be well, for the case of cleameas, to suppose that
the 1 o'clock is a certain definite spot to which
both hands are approaching ; one from a distanor
twelve times farther than the other, but moving
at twelve times greater speed. These, then, are
the terms; and the grand question evidently is,.
Will the hands simultaneously attain the abore
suppositional spot? Certainly they will. The
proof is as positive as that of anything In geo-
metry. Here ore two objects; each is moving
towards the same spot; the time is common; one
has twelve times farther to go than the other, but
to counteract that it moves twelve times Cutter.
N'ow what is the inference T Evidently this, that
the n^otive power, in relation to time, is, for the
period at question, balanced ; and, therefore, the
two hands will be parallel immediately at the
expiration of the time for which they were set :
and, being parallel, they must also point to th**.
same spoL Where, then, the -^ of 5 minutes is
to be found remaining to either hand at this pan
of the motion does not appear; and it is in sup-
posing that such time has not been accounted for
that the fallacy originatee.— E. S. J.
Allow me to inform your correspondent
"Homo" that the logic of his ** friend" is
founded upon a "monstrous absurdity," or it
could not be opposed to a well-known /act. If it
could once be proved that logical deductions were
fallacious, there would be an end to tlie progftM
of society ; for who would be led by Uiat which
could be proved to be a blind leader ? Every man
under this conviction would be guided by his
external senses, the same by which the beast.*,
are guided ; and, like them, lie would make no
progress. The logic by which " Homo's " friend
proves the "monstrous absurdity" is founded
on the supposition that any given *pace can be*
divided into infinity, which is anything but logic.
Infinity of space does not exist; because anv
given space is limited, but infinity is unbounded.
—A Labourer.
In reply to ** Homo " I have two remarks to
make, eitlier of which will expose the pleasantry
of his frieikd; for "pleasantry" I cannot biit
think it is.
1 . By his ingenious " suppositions *" he leadft
his hearer into a labyrinth of misconoeptiona a»
to the nature of a clock's motions. The minute
hand of a clock, as "Homo" may perceive by look>
iug at the next clock he sees, moves by successive
intermittent jerks or jumps, always passing over
tlie same distance at each jump. Hence, to sup-
pose various times and distances of motion, ai^
TBM INQOIRBR.
77
Us fHend l^w done, is, in ftct, to suppose a olook
is not a clock. I shall perfaaps betterUlostrate 1117
meaning and its application by taking a real and
mdinary exaaople. In many clocks the minute
hand "jtunpe** or mores forwards once in every
half minute, thus passing orer I-120th part of
the circomferenee of the dial at each " Jump."
'* Homo" will, ttierefore, perceive that when the
nunute hand (in the ease supposed) has arrived at
five minutes past one, the next real motion will
cause it to jerk past, and so overtake the hour
hand. His Mend supposes a non-existent and
iibpossible kind of dock ; no wonder that, with
such a latitude of supposition, he should prove
logic untrue.
3. Even if we pass by the above-uotioed mis-
repreaentations, yet we mnst at once eorapleiely
and emphatically deny the "logical truth** of the
reasoning of " Homo's " friend. I have said '* rea-
soning" M eoflipUiiMnC,bttt I defy any one to put
it into the shape of aigument, i. e., logical reason-
ing. 1 regret to say that I am entirely unac-
quainted with the terms of logio, or I think I
could immediately substantiate this position ;
still, trusting in the logic of common sense, I
iearleasly challenge "Homo's" friend to exhibit, if
he can, his plausible suppositions in ike thaptof
•triet logical aryumtnt^ and I pledge myself to
point out its logical fallacy in return, what is
logically true, never was. nor ever can be, prae-
ticaUy lisUe.— H. J. R.
141. The Size of the Solid Bulk of the Earth.
— ^I cannot agree with J. 8. in thinking it a
plausible idea that the earth is now larger than
in the tim# of Adam and Eve. I would ask, where
is the new matter (forming the increase in which
he believes) to come from ? By direct exercise
of creative power on the part of the Deity ? Or
from some more distant planet? I presume
J. S. does not believe in the •e\f.crtatwn of
matter, though his words seem to imply that idea
when he speaks of ** the greater portion ** of
animal and vegetable remains "becomiDR resolved
into its original elements," and returning " to
fill up the vaeuum caused by its abstraction."
Now, unless the remaining portion of ** remains"
was created out ot nothing ^ ihe vacuum evidently
eannot be filled up until it is also resolved into
its original elements.
Whatever now forms a portion of organized
existence, animal or vegetable, formerly was,
and hereafter will a^ain become, a portion of the
inorganic '* original elements" of the earth. The
chiemists tell us that by far the greater bulk of all
known productions, both organic and inorganic,
especially of the latter, are composed almost
entirely of the four elements— oxygen, hydrogen,
xiitrogeu, and carbon. These elements are com-
bined and set free, compressed and expanded, in
ererr action of nature. Thus, for example, we
jeapuv the air around us, its oxygen combines with
our blood, and we reject in exchange carbonic
acitl ; while, on the other hand, the vegetable
tribes give forth oxygen and retain carbon. In
this way the whole creation is linked together in
mutual bonds; life feeds on death, and death
feeds on life. The earth and " all that therein
is " is ever changing, yet ever the same ; the ele-
ments of which it is formed chan^Iess, the lorms
in which those elements are combmed ceaselessly
chan|peful. It was a humorous exemplification
of this doctrine when the poet said —
** Imperial C«sar dead, and ttimed to clay,
May Slop a hole to keep the wind away.'^
Nay, the living Cssar in his manhood may tread
benc«th his feet, may breathe and feed on, what
was onee a part of his youthftil frame.
The above thoughts may suffice to point out, in
a brief and cursory manner, the philosophical
reasons for believing that the " solid bulk of the
earth" is no larger &an it has ever been. I use
the phrase " solid bulk " in the meaning which
J. S. seems to put it, i. e.,the aggregate mass of
matter. That Uie »oUd bulk of the earth as op-
posed to its^utd portions is every day increasing,,
those who, like me, believe in the theory of cen-
tral heat will not readily deny.->H. J. R.
The Size qf the Solid Bulk of the Earth.^
There is no reason whatever to suppose that the
solid bulk qf the earth has been augmented eery
eontiderahly since the time when our first parents
lived upon it. J. S. should have defined strictly
what he understood by '* lai^r." If he meant
simply that the same quantity of nuttter in the
earth occupies more space now than then, it
might be difficult to prove the contrary, although
I believe geologists and scientific men generally
consider the earth smaller, as having been
brought, by the action of the law of gravitation,
" through the course of ages," into a more compact
and regular form ; but if, as is evident, he intended
to express that there is actually a greater amount
of matter in the same, or perhaps larger space
(t. e., that the earth's substance is either denser,
or of the same density, but greater size), we have
no reason to conclude that the earth is, in this
sense, in the smallest appreciable degree larger.
A very trifling quantity of solid matter has, indeed ,
as Sir Isaac Newton supposed, and as observation
has since proved, been added to the earth's crust
by the fall of meteoric stones, brought either by
their own motion or the earth's withm the sphere
of the letter's attracting influence. But the vege-
table and animal matter current (if I may be per-
mitted to use the term) at any period upon the
earth's surface never has made any addition to
that siirfiiee, owing to the constant reproduction
and renewal going on contemporaneously with
the decay and dissolution of animal and vegetable
life. From the soil spring up the herbage and
plants which feed the herbivorous races ; Uiese in
their torn, many of them, become food for the
carnivorous races ; and some kinds of tiie latter
supply the necessities of others ; and all even-
tually return again to mother earth, onl^ to im-
dergo onee more the same series of mutations. It
does not, indeed, neceitsarily follow that exactly
the same particles of matter are now current in
the animate and inanimate organic world as ten,
twenty, or sixty centuries ago. Some portions of
the bodies — the earthy phosphates of the bones,
for instance — of bygone generations, probably,
have remained quiescfnt m the earth's surface,
and have never entered into new forms of life ;
but other portions (of earthy phosphotes, 5cc.),
which at that time formed part of the earth's
inonimate crust, are now endued with life. In
short, OS chemistry aoouaints us with the fact that
nothing can be absolutely destroyed, but oulr
transformed, so physiology, aided by analogy and
our conception ol the divine character, leads us
to believe that there is nothing absolutely new —
that no fresh particles of matter have been added
lUiMlMiiruuiiniUinliniii aiwniinpnn'iiuix. V
Inouirn if It be luver now tLiui b^nKTlv 7 I tl
■niM nrlT, No-of Iht •■n* Otr. Sut. V ho n
Ilka th« nrlh apwJ frvm tha pmeDi uihnal p
Ud *T|r?liibJr kinipiDnia, »U(t inqiliTf M3 bpAin, T f
woqid bUII replj in (he DrfrmliTr, liiil with Ibi^ I
(UffCnncej that ihF fvth ia n«ir JecidifdlTtmallrr »
Ibgoirtl not SDUirjHIIilr af Ixin^ fnlbenil lip, nil] ' c
mr be ■Mer lUlJ, *■! in aiio(*i-r /iwih. The ■
GRAMMAR CUSS.
Pakm EicrriK No. II., Vol. III. p. 110.
S™i«-iWi(iioii.
ETtrriiaim Grammar. An. I/J.
HOnCBS OF BOOKS.
79
nature's loie interiiKter, and bow does be be-
come eo t Wbat are the rules regaitlhig ideat f
Ptoveeti&r. — Bxeroisc, Vol. II. p. 79.
Seniar. — ^Whal are the media tiimogh which
mind beoomes related to the extemiil unirenie 7
See Wylda on *' The Senses " ; Abereronthie's
" Inteilectaa] Powers," part ii. sections i. andil. ;
De Moritan's ** Formal Logic," chap. ii. ; Mae-
viear'a " Inquiry into Baman Natare," ohap. ri.;
Tomif's " Intelleelnal Philosophy," sect viii.—
XT. and xlix. ; Thomson's ** Outline of the Laws
of Thooitht," part i., parafrraphs 47->dO and
U-M; Kant's " Critic of Pore Reason " (Kritik
derVeinen Verounft), tratueendentuU elemen-
i^HHire, part ii. book i. pp. 67—125; Brown's
" Lectures," xxx.— xxxir. ; Scott's " Intellectual
Philosophy," chaps. L— W. ; Hamilton's *'Reid"
Inquiry, passim, and note B. ; Hamilton's Dis-
cussions, •' Theory of Perception " pp. 38—97,
or " EdinburRh Beview," October, 18SK); Mill's
" Logic," book L chap. iii. paragraphs 3, 4, 7, 8,
13, 14; book iv. chap. it. par. 4; Malbranche's
'* Recherche de la Veriti," vol. L book i. ; Moore's
"Use of the Body iu Relation to the Mind";
Cairus' ** Moral Freedom," part i. chap. iii. sect
ii. : part ir. Destutt de Tracy's " Elemens de
Ideologic."
"European Fhilusophy" is still unavoidably
omitted. We hope to be able to present it to our
readers in our next issue.
Mim nf aSnnk
The Jutobioffmj^hjf of WiUiam Jerdan, with hi$
Literaiy^ Political, and Social Rrminiscences
and Cormpondence during the la»t F'sfty
Year*. Vol. III. London: HaU,Virtne,andCo.
Mr. Jerdan both opens snd closes this volume
with references to the dispute between himself
s&d some of hie reviewers on the poeiUon of lite-
rature as a profession; he also deigns to notice
some unfavourmble criticisms on hto productions,
snd speaks of one writer in the following not very
digsifled manner:—*' The name of an iudividual
has been communicated to me by good-natured
friends as being the writer of several malignant
articles against me, not against my book, in mora
than one periodical. I never sought Uie infor-
mation, nor would have gone three steps out of
my way to aoqtdre it ; but, if it be true, it shall be
my business to gibbet the worthletM iterate /or
pwlie infamy ; and show, ftrom papers in my pos-
"cnion,tbathis own early childhood was cherished
by me— that his own family and his nearest rela-
tives by marriage an under great obligations to
me." This threat is truly terrible, and enough
to^ sbike with dumbness not only the individual
it is intended for, but all oUier censors. Surely
•fter this Mr. Jerdan may act " Sir Oracle," and
not fear the barking of any cur when he does
" ope his month."
This vohune consists principally of pen-and-ink
sketches of the contributors to the Literary
GatetUt >nd narrations of incidents of varying
interest respeettng UienL The chapters which will
be tmiied to with the greatest interest bv the ma-
jority of readers are those referring to the lamented
" L. E. L." It seems that Miss Landon was a
"proximate neighbour" of Mr. Jerdan at Old
Bmnpton. It appears that his first recollection
of the foture poetess was that of *' a plump girl,
grown enough to be almost mistaken for a woman,
bowling a hoop round the walks, with the hoop-
stick in one hand and a book in the other, reading
as she ran, and as well as she could manage both
exercise and instruction lU the same time. The
exercise was prescribed euid insisted upon; the
book was her own irrapressible choice." Her
wliest poetic effusions were submitted to Mr.
Jerdan for friendly critieisra ; and, encouraged by
bim, she made her dibut in the Literary (Gazelle.
In her first piece, on ** Rome/' there was, amidst
many crudities, high promise of fiitare ability ;
and her next little elTaition, on no higher subject
than a " Michaelmas Daby," was characterized
by much beauty and simplicity. We sul^oin it: —
" Lan smile of the departing year,
Thy pensive charms are flown ;
Thy pensive wreath is still more dear,
From blooming thus alone.
*' Thy tender blush, thy simple frame.
Unnoticed might have passed ;
But now thou com'st with softer claim,
The loveliest and the last.
" Sweet are the charms in thee we find.
Emblems of Hope's gay wing ;
'Tis thine to call past bloom to mind —
To promise future spring."
This was followed by a piece of blank verse
poetry, in which much greater poirar was ex-
hibited. We extract the following beautiflil scmi)
of descriptive soenery : —
*' Is not this grove
A scene of pensive loveliness — the gleam
Of Dian's gentle ray fell on the trees,
And, piercing through the gloom, seems like the
smile
That pitv gi%'es to cheer the brow of grief:
The turf has caught a silvery hue of light
Broken by shadows, where the branching oak
Rears its dark shade, or where the aspen waves
Its trembling leaves. The breeze Lb murmuring
by.
Fraught with sweet sighs of flowers, and the song
Of sorrow Uiat the nightingale pours forth.
Like the soft dirge of love.
Mr. Jerdan's care bestowed upon the youthful
poetess was more than repaid, for she became one
of his efitpctive colleagues in the couductorship
of the Gazette, and did much to raise the jour-
nal to that measure of popularity which it at-
tainKl.
The present volume, amidst much that is com-
monplace, nontaius interesting notices of Bernard
Barton, Theodora Hook, John Murray , and other
magnates of literature.
80
XOTICJU or BOOKS.
Tht New QuarUriy RevUw and DigeBt qf Cur-
rent Liierature. London : Thomas Hookham.
ThU new srrUl is reallx what a reTiew— according
to its name— should be. Instead of the old reviews
performing the purpose which their names imply,
St has come to be the fashion of their contributors
to write learned dissertations upon various
branches of science, history, or philosophy,
placing the book nominally reviewed at the top of
the page, and ver^ often not telling us of its actual
contents and ments.
None can more Ailly appreciate than we do
the great erudition displayed in these publica-
tions ; and none would be more sorry than our-
selves to be deprived of their perusal : but we
would much rather they should come to us
under a proper tide, and not under false pre-
tences. The promoters of the work now under
nodoe seem to recognise the existence of a feeling
like this, and have therefore established a review
which is nothing more than it professes, and we
are happy to add nothing legs. It professes to
be an index and digest or current literature. It
will present a reconl of all books published for
the three months preceding its issue, and will tell
us something oy the books as well as about them.
To those who have but little time for reading it
will fhmish material enough to keep up a know-
ledge of the doings of the literary world, and also
affoi^ some pleasant and instructive reading;
while to those who read more, it will prove a
valuable guide as to what books will roost deserve
their attention. A sight of one of its numbers
will be a better recommendation them anything
we can say rrgardiug it.
In tht> first number there is a well-executed
summary of U\e literature of 1851, of which it
ffives some interesting particulars. We find, for
instance, that the total literary offtpriug of the
" Exhibition year " was 6,055 volnmes, large and
small; and that the book-clubs and readinir
societies of the United Kingdom take off 750
volumes of any book written to their pattern.
We may state that the new review is not quite
half the price of the old ones : and by way of
concluding, we present our readers with the fol-
lowing remarks upon some recent biographies : —
** Alas ! biography is losing its rank in the
system of our literature. From a station imme-
diately next after history, it has fallen to very
nearly the lowest place of all. It has lost its
independence, iu impartiality, its high prerogative
ofjudging the just-buried dead; it has become a
twaddling gossip, a bookseller's hack, a nervous
panMyrisL
*' This course of the new fashion, by virtue of
which every man of the least note has all the
contents of his old drawers swept off into a book-
seller's shop, while some ver^ near relative, or
some dependant of the fkmily, sorts out the
roa«s, suppresses everything which is in the
least degree unfsvonrable, and Btick«i all the rest
together with a glutinoua paste of praise. Nei-
ther impartiality nor literary capacity are neces-
sary to produce a biography of this kind ; the first
would be a crime in the author, for what should we
think of a son, or a brother, or a widow, who
revealed all the secret fluiltiness of a just deponed
relative 7 The second is not so catching, that it
is likely to be found in the next akin or its late
possessor. The Italians have a proverb, whidt
says, ' He lies like a tombstone.' Now modem
biographies are neither better nor worse than
tombstones. They are written by the some person
and for the same object"
We give one specimen of the reception aothoco.
of a certain class are likely to meet with.
" Bertha : a Romance of the Dark Ages. By
W. Bernard MaoCabe. 3 vols. London: 1851.
— This is quite refVeshlng. A romance in the
good old-fashioned Minerva press style. Forests ,
Uiunder and lightning, persecuted damaels,
shocking bandits of the O. Smith-walk, castles
with concealed doors, mysterious paternities,
terrible priests, a heroine who can only be de-
scribed * by the hackneyed term angel,' as Mrs.
Radclifib always says, and a hero who is beau«
tiful OS Adonis, brave as ^ax, chaste as Origen,
and towards the end of the story rich as Crcesus,
and nobly-bom as Patroclus— in a word, a book
for sempstresses to sob over, and for people of
sense to shun.
** Mr. MacCabe some time since prodnced a
history of England, by cutting out and then past-
ing together the old chronicles, a piece of patch-
work that was rather curious than pleasant to
work upon. Whether he has produced his
romance by the same process we do not know ;
but if there are any of the old stereotype plates or
the old Minerva press about town, we would be
bound to produce something very like it, at very
small oos^ and in a very few hours."
The youtf^ful Thinker. A Monthly Miscellany
ofSeience^ Literaturef and ReUyton, London:
Partridge and Oakey.
We like the title of this magazuie, buteannot m^
that the first number is fully worthy of it, for it i»
destitute of that distinctness of character which
its name seems to indicate. We expected that
the editor would have presented his readers with
some original tbougbtKd counsels, accompanie^l
with appropriate exercises for training the rea-
soning powers of those who were to look iqp to
him for instruction. But nothing of the sort is
attem^^ted, and not even is an opening address
given. This we regard as a serious omJbsion, for
unless new candidates for public fhvour have dis-
tinct and well-defined grounds on which to ba»e
their claims, they must not be surprised if in this
buoy day they encounter neglect and experience
ftiilure.
liljttnrit.
BT THB AUTHOR OF "tHE ART OF REA80NIK0.**
No. XV.— THE EMOTIONAL NATURE OF MAN.
Did we believe that onr readers, generally, consisted of the "heathens of mammon/*
who practise the *' idolatry of the pocket/' and consider it more profitable and more
cmobliog " to wash in sand and mad for gold-dnst than to search the heavens for the
^awrtrj of far-off worlds,** to study the poetry of life, or to attempt gaining a knowledge
flf Dan's emotional natnre — we should certainly not hare chosen to address them on this
olgeet. We should have contented ourselves with conning over in our own mind the fol-
kviDg pithy sentences of Douglas Jerrold, and they wonld have taught us to refrain from
cabsiking in the hopeless xmdertaking: — "With these idolaters everytlung may be con-
^vtsd into something profitable, save and except the human heart. To study its
^Biotums — to be alive to its appealing sympathies — to know its power for good and evil^
to coDBider its relationship, if beating in the breast of misery and want, to the millions of
hu\M touched into music by the hand of God and throbbing for the one eternal home —
ti lorn and feel this, is, with the pagans of the money-bag, to waste the hours of a
^podthrift, to feel only the emptiness of most unprofitable folly. In the commerce of
tkM idolaters, what is the mere, the naked human heart? There is, of course — it is
Mdily taken upon trust — some adroit piece of machinery in every man, that b the spring
Amotion; that sends forth the current of life; that enables the human animal to walk
hm counting-house to warehouse, from warehouse to bank ; there is, it is allowed, some
adi dever piece of clockwork, and it is called the heart. What more is, with the world's
iUaters, known of it? What can be known of it? Who that would thrive would seek
Wknow more? — would lose his time, and the golden-minted fruits of time, pondering the
fti-drawn theories of fools and philosophers? Men of business know better!" But we
^ not believe sol Verily, No! We feel assured that we speak to earnest souls, whose
ftnoDT and bomanitj are ever active ,and who think, with us, that
"The spacious west,
And all the teeming regions of the south,
Hold uot a quarry, to the curiousi flight
Of knowledge half so tempting fair
As Man to Man;"
Whence it Is that we invite you to listen to us awhile, as we attempt the decipherment
^ vbat is written in '^ the heart of man, that strange and mystic scroll," so far as that
*i)teeasiij in the study which we are at present conjointly prosecuting.
Ahfaoog^ we are aware that some philosophers have made a distinction between Emotions
^ Pffffimw . ^'^''^^i^ the/ormer as mere agitations of the mentality, ocMJAnna^Vs vscDk.%
^Hid 9t OBtmd CKue, and the /after as those same agitaUonft m\«&n&»i vcl\ \q»^^
82 RHBTOBIC. — ^KO. XV.
active bj Desire — we prefer emplojing the term Emotion as generic^ embracing in its sig-
nification the foor following classes of mental manifestation, yiz. : —
I. Appetites; those recurrent states of mind which primarilj result from our nerrlle
constitntioni are involuntarily excited to exercise bj the presentment of suitable objects,
create uneasy sensations until indulged, and are satiated for a time bj gratification.
II. Desires; those conditions of the mind which superrene when we regard some object
as worthy of attainment on account of its real or supposed capaci^ of oontiibnting to our
future enjoyment. They imply continnanoe of feeling, amoonting sooMCimes to yearning,
and voluntary activity.
III. Affbctions; those sympathetic or antipathetic dispositions which influence our
conduct towards persons.
IV. Passions; those highly intensified states of the mind when the whole heart is
absorbed in the attamment of gratification for any appetite, desire, or affection. The dif-
ferentiating features are the intellectual perturbation, the heedlessness of consequences,
blindness to moral responsibility, and headlong, unreasoning zeal for indulgence which the
mided Will occasions.
We do not wish it to be inferred from the above definitions that we regsrd these tpeeus
of Emotion as palpably distinct and radically difierent: if they were, they could not be
included in the same gemu. We are more inclined to believe that, if looked at with
logical precision, they would seem to be in reality mere variations of the same mcDtsI
states, diflering in intensity and recurrent power, much influenced by the laws of sni;-
gestion, and forming a sequence of emotive activity, rising higher and higher in the scale
of morals, and becoming more and more powerful as influensive agendea in vrmUng oat
the well-being of the human race. We are so constituted that nervile sensations are the
occasions of thought-excitation, and that certain conditions of our poweiB of feefin^
imperiously demand that the powers of the intellect shall enter into " a committee of wajs
and means" for their indulgence. It is in the power of the Intellect, however, to elevate
these feelings into desires of a nobler character than mere sensual appctanoes. The uni-
verse of objectivities in which man is resident become within him not only the excitants
of ideas, but of sentiments and emotions; they become not only the administrants of plea-
sure, but also the awakeners within the soul of desires which call for the renewal of those
pleasures, affections which aim at their continuance, and passions which result from their
gratification or deprivation. In the autobiography which Memory writes for every human
being this process may be distinctly traced. There needs no learned metaphysie ken to
perceive in the record of life many instances in which the root of appetite has successively
ripened into desire, afiection, and passion. Nay, it is moat desirable that it should do so,
for it is only when this process commences that we cease to be mere animals, and becom^*
really and truly humatL The undeveloped state of the emotive powers we call sensualism;
the fully devdoped oondHioB of these powers piodooes the foettb in man. The fewer
degrees of intallectnal exercise an produced simultaBeevsIy with lihe sppetitei; the higher
degrees of mental exdtemeot terminate m Emotions. Indeed, It has been asMcted by
many cminsnt men that the pfodnctionof Emetioo was the fiaal cavaaaf hoBMUi exisleace;
nor do wo find any reason to disbelieve this; for as dw agrsoable EaMtioai renlt in ha|H
pneas. because thoy aio tho dhindy^ppointed rewwdsof weU-doing, and happnais is the
BRXTOBia — SO. XV, 8S
Tmirenal ctmTiog of hniiMirftj, we can soarodj doabt that the briDgiog of oar emotiosal
nature into oo-opentiog hannonj most be the end for which we hare been called npon to
people the uniTene of God. However this may be, U seems to ns prett j evident that the
Emotions figrm a very important portion of the hnman mind — that, as the media whereby
thelinil is exerted, tlioj merit peculiar attention—that, as the recipients and prodacers of
mnch of oar happiness, we onght to be pecoliarly alive to any means which may enable as
to call them into beneficial exercise, or restrain them from acting prejudicially, either to
ourselTes or others.
Two characteristics of the Emotions seem particalarly deserving of consideration in a
treatise on "Rhetoric,** viz.: — 1. Emotions are not directly nnder the control of the Will.
We cannot directly determine by the Will to entertain at a given time a given feeling, nor can
vest any moment of time Will that any particular Emotion shall exercue itself or cease to
do 80. When circumstances present themselves, either to the perceptual or associative facul-
ties, capable of originating Emotions, they will and must arise. 2. Emotions are indirectly
contTolIable by the Will. Though no sheer effort of Will can cause the bosom to beat with
Emotion, it can direct the current of our thoughts, place us in such real or imaginary cir-
cnmstances as shall lead to the entertainment of any peculiar Emotion. These two facts
should teach us that we can only reach the Will by indirect means — that these means can
only be effectual when they include intellectual conviction and emotional agitation— that a
mere appeal to Reason will not suffice to produce action of a given kind, but that, con-
joined thereunto, we should evoke the action of the emotional powers, and through them
the preferential activity of the Will.*
It is to the emotional powers that the Imagination, in the structure of figurative lau-
gtuige, continually appeals. The *' accepted of God" are said to " hunger and thirtt after
nghteousness.*' David says, *' As the hart panteth aiVer the water brooks, so panteth my
soul after thee, O God ;" and Bums beautifully sings bis gratitude in the following words :-^
" The bridegroom may forget the bride
Was made his wedded wife yeatrcen ;
TlM aaonarah may forget Iht crown
That OD his head an hour bath been ;
The mother may foi^t the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee ;
Bat 111 remember fhecp Oleneasm,
Am' a* that thou haat Aena for om."
This, however, will more fully appear in a future article on ** Figumtive Language.** In
the meantime, without proftasing, or even atteMptiog, to censtmet an exhaustive tabular
arrangement of the EmotioBs, we may place the folfewing icheme before our readers :«->
* Farther iuformation on " The Emotiona ** will be found la Chalmers's " Sketches of Moral Phi-
losophy;" Cairn's ** Moral Freedom,'* partL chap. It. ; Payne's " Elements of Mental and Moral
Science,** pp. S17— 390 ; ITpbam'a *^ Elements of Mental Philosophy," dirbion iii.; Sf^hmueker'a
«PajQfaolQgj»pfltC ii. ehap.L and iii; Seid'a " Aotive Powers;" Stowait'a ''Phikwophy of the
Active Powes;'* Aberavmbic'a "Philoaopbj of the Moral Feelings;" Beattie's *<£lemenU of
Moral Sdeooe; " Cogan, " On the Paaaiona;" Campbell's *< Philosophy of Rhetoric," book i. sec ii.
cbap.xL; Brown's ** Lectmes,'* xtL— zriil.; Dr. Sayer'a ** Disquisitions, Metaphysical and Lite-
rary ; " WarirorUm's ** Dlrine Legation ; ** Kaimes's « Elements of Criticism*'* chap. 11. ; HalebnBche ,
** BechenhA da la VeiM;* liv. iv. Obap. i. ; Cowin'a <* Wovka,** jMSSf sk
84
BBmORIC. — HO. XT.
I. Appbtitbs.
II. Dsaxmsfl.
III. AVFSCTIOMS.
1. NerviU,
Life.
r Parental.
Sleep.
Beat
Power.
Wealth.
fielatioiua.-
1
FratemaL
Filial.
Activity.
Knowledge.
Conjugal.
Hanger.
Thirst, &e.
Approbation.
Pre-eminenoe.
sympathy. 1^^^^^^^
Eateein. i
2. ytrvo-mentrnt.
Beauty.
Sociality, &c.
Gratitude.
Patriotism. &e. '
Sublimityi
Surprise.
The Ladicroot, &o.
IT. PAf SIOKI.
1. Agreeable.
Love Hatred....
Deaire
Hope
S. DUagreeahJe.
' Beseuttnent
Anger.
Revenge.
^ Retaliation.
Avenioii . • i .. ,.
I Malice.
r«r i^rr^-
{ Melancholy.
/ Serenity. Uttrni.
Joy. "I Cheerfulness .... Grief -j -T^^
1 r% IS V. I Remorse.
V Delight
Self-esteem, &o Shame, 5ec.
It 18 not onr province, in the present series of papers, either to give a brief compendinm
of moral philosophy, or to define particnkrlj each of the mental states exhibited in the
foregoing paradigmatio exposition, bat to offer some general observations on the manage-
ment of the Emotions, a power which demands from an anther a degree of skill that can
only be acquired by ardently-pnrsned stndy, and to point oat the widely-ramifying rela-
tions which Rhetoric bears to all the cognate mind-sciences, and thos inddentaUy to
impress the mind of the yonng writer with an idea of the necessity of forming correct
opinions on metaphysical topics.
The great aim of eveiy author most be to. bring the minds of other men into a simtUr
state to his own. To convince is only one-half of this work; to persoade is the other.
Conviction operates on the Intellect; persuasion on the Emotions. To think correctly does
not always mean to act correctly. To bring thought and action into congenial co-operation
is the grand problem which every author attempts to work out If not, wherefore does he
write? If not solicitous of influencing men's minds, what need is there of disturbing his
quiescence by such laborious toil? If desirous of doing so, snrdy the means best adapted
for the accomplishment of the end in view are those which he ought to adopt Can he
influence man without understanding the nature of man? No I '* Hcunan nature is a
complicate machine, and is unavoidably so in order to answer its various purposes." He
who would numage and work that machinery to the attainment of his own enda, or — ^whit
is, perhaps, as difficult an undertaking — resist the mismanagement of others, must
thoroughly comprehend the natore and stractore of that which he would inflaenoe. As
XnBTORIC. — VO. X7. 85
hnmu witiin i* twofold, midlectval and emotionat, so the dnti«8 of the rhetorician are
twofold, Tiz., to oonTince the Intellect, and bring the Paaaiona into pUj. ^ Paaaion ia the
morer to action, Beaaon the guide." When, therefore, persoaaion ia the end— and when
is it not? — the Emotiona mnat be called into action. It ia necessary that the anthor
should at all times be able not onlj to present to the nndexstanding a dear view of the
troth, bat also
" Yeraer daas teas les oosar oe que rasent ton cosur." *
Troth enlightens, Imagination adds brilliancy and effect, Emotion animates; these three
coDJoined conatitate the perfection of Style.
There are three qnaUUes of mind which are absolutely necessary in him who would sue-
cessinlly appeal to ** the emotional faculties of man,'* viz.. Feeling, Imagination, and Dis-
cernment. It haa been said of old by one who combined in himself the qualities of lyrist,
critic, and satixiat-*-
*' Si Tis me flere, dolendum est
Primom ipsi tibi; timo toa me infortunia Indent;"*
tnd the whole world has endorsed the truth of the statement To establish sympathy, one
most himself be in earnest, labour under conviction, be thoroughly and cordially zealous in
the propagation of his opinions. " As iron sharpeneth iron," so does the real enthuaiasm of
the speaker or writer give edge to that of the hearer or reader. To feel keenly is one of the
chief elements in enthusiasm ; and by an intelligent enthusiasm an author is enabled to
l^csr away the soul of the reader whithersoever he pleases; can change, as if by enchant-
ment, heedlessness into zeal, languor into activity, callouaness into sensibility, and careless
cahnoees into ungovernable fervency and warmth. How strange is the power of words
which, under the direction of feeling, can thua make the heart tingle, enflame the soul with
Ardour, and throw the intellect into a lively and impassioned state I The writer who covets
mental power must fed. No elegance of collocatbn, no harmonious periodicity, no bom-
^tie " froth and fury," will atone for the want of genial sensibility. Nothing else will thaw
the frigidity of the unsympathlsing soul, except the glow of fervid feeling which the writer
crisoes. *' Soul la kindled only by souL" If this be so, how careful ought each man who
aims at influencing his fellow-men by the utterance of hia thonghta be in the regulation of
his heart and life, lest, perchance, the feelings with which he leavens his discourse should
be "of the earth, earthy,** rather than of that exalted nature with which the human soul
ooght continually to be filled I If it be in the power of eloquence to excite or to calm, to
iifge onward or to restrain, ought not those who aim at the employment of such a power to
^tch sedulously their own modes of feeling, and guard against the evil impulses which too
^uently operate within a heart which is ** deceitful above all things, and desperately
wicked"? If we undertake to supply motives to men, let us urge these upon them through
^« media of the nervo-mental appetites, the desires, afieetions, and agreeable passions,
rather than through the nervile appetites and the disagreeable passions; let the emotions
to which we appeal be those which are honourable to humanity, not those which approximate
^oni m nature to the lower grades of animal existence. In Una one thing, viz., Earnestness,
^ ' ■ I - —■ ■ ■■ ■ ■ ■— — — ■ ■— ■ fc ■■ ■- ■■■-■M ■■■■ ■ —
* " To poor ujto an heexts that which affeets his own."— Cobhbillk.
f " ir you woold have me weep, yoa jounelf most be grieved ; then your misfortmies injure me.*'— >
BonUU Fhuti An Poetiea, lines 103, 103.
B6 ttnCTDBlC.— XO. XT
do V6 snbflcribe ooimIvis admirfn ot the apostokte of Carijle, ff tibaiwmto wo boj be
pcrmittod to attach the foUovriag eonditioiioftiBg tonai, ni., m doim^ good, EonMitaett
io Ool is the pott of httmaa dnty, <* whtnin wheoo walka aad woifa it k vefl wUh him."
Bol somethiBg more than mere eoraoetneia, men emelieaol acftivii/, ia inceegaiy — ^Uvely
coloariBg, reality, picterial effiset, or atateaqiio ekgaacj most bo giveA— «ecneaie oroMoii*
hlancey ideal preeentatireness, mental embodiment must be imparted. For this a higUj
caltored oonceptiTe power, a ricfalj-endowed memorj, a keenly-obeerrant attentiveoess,
a readinoBO of oomMnatioD and felicitous manner e£ word-descriptirenaaa — the pietnmqiio
of expression — ^are necessaiy. Hence originates tho necessity for the second quality, whicli
wo regard as a duUerahim in the writer who would efficiently infloenoe tho hnman mind.
The high imogiaativo capacity which can enchain aitentioDy call before the mind a trsin of
images which show *^ the form and faduon" of those objects which are capable of edadsg
Emotions, describe the varied sequences of a series of affecting events, or othenriso create in
the mind such an intense (Ming of reality as shall stir the mind, is an essential element in
successful authorship. The man who can talk or write with frigid languidness regarding
the ramges of a pestileDee^tbe moastroos brutalities wl»eh occur at tho saddag of a dty
•— 4he dread upheavals of an earthquake— the naiogled Uaae and daikaMS, tho beiliic
msdiMws, and the tenpest-eddioa of a storm at sea, will neither be lisieaod to nor resd*
Indifferentism is at a dtscooat; and tho trials of virtue, tho honiism of hmman IiIb, the
miseries of city eziBtraoe, the horrors of oppression in every shape or fons, tho emotiaai
which stir in the bosoms of the various ssctioas of hoaianity, most bo iqiprecialively inte^
preted and vividly set forth by the man who would toneh the Ceeliagab movo tho heart, or
excite the iatolleet. Liveliness of imaginatien, a ready sympathy, a capaoity of placing
one's self in tho positioo of others, aad pereoviag tho iiMliBgs which mast botBl into biitk
under these dreumstances, in&llibly add to tho aooorscy as well as the attractiveoeM of a
oompositioa. One of two things must be dono—eithor we must plaoo onrMlwso oa rofpart
with the parties we address, or place them in tho same sympathetio rdatton to a& A lively
and cnergetie imagination is oqaaDy necessary ibr eithor. If wo attempt tho ibcmer, m
must endeavour to oalch ap vividly the point of view from which ear aaditon or resdas
are regarding the sabject, enter npoa the considentJQii of it there, where their fthBaiin
is already excited, and then guide them whence we will: if the latter, wo mast aoaiplaia sad
ilhistrate the peculiar aspect in which tho topie prssenta itsdf to oar mind, that tho psrtisi
addressed can hava ao diffiealty in tumiag their thoughts into tho chaanol wo havt cat f«r
them, and being bone along upon the onneat wUdb wo have led within tho embaakmrnts.
If we do not manage this oar whole ooaiso shall ba ** in tho wind's 90;" wo shall n^oiie
to beat ap against many advene inflnsBoes, and laay, porehanoe^ ho oairiod beyaad tk
haihour which ws ssaght^
Samestnsss aaouating to eathasiasm, an imaginatiea gUttsriog with siaulei^ rastophei^
and all the other of eelanaf ia which mere imagiaatioa iadalgoa- poariqg forth a perfect
profusion of beanty-— may bo (boad ia an aathor, yet will ho not sncoeed. Dtaosraacal is
required. Toof ia neccsauy. Withont ihoi ono may fhel all tiio paiaa of
"Enry wan, end iidtd CSrs,
6riia>i>lsefed, eoafotlkes Seepeir,
And Sorrow's piercing dart;"
RnrroRic— 3fo. xr. 87
or luve hia heart filled with the almost inexpressible jojs which result from the evokiag of
tbe more delicioiu emotions which are occasionally excited within the human soul —
" The stir, the animation of this world,
Friendship and love's tweet ecstasj" —
naj hare an imagination capable of imparting to his thoughts those
"Gorgeoas djres
Which paint the bird of pandiiie,"
tad of adding to all in hearen or earth a fresh perfection, fairer far than erer mortal eje
hid aforetime beheld, and jet be unsuccessful There is a danger to be avoided. We most
Rmember, that
" To gHd refined gold, or paint the llljr,
Is wastefbl and ridiculous excess."
it is that taste, discernment, tact^-call it what jou will— that regulating power bj
vkieh the writer ** in the verj torrent, tempest, and as I may saj whirhrind,*^ of Emotion,
iMBct him from either making " the unskilful laugh," or " the jndiciooa grieTt;** and
MiUes him ** to beget a temperance that may gire it smoothness." Our Emotions mast not
'US, we must master our Emotions. If we wish to be successful helmsmen, we must
for port, with earnest aim indeed, but free from all unsuitable excitement. Earnestly
■fiat upon the accomplishment of our purpose — yea, yearningly anziotts, we may be, but
Mr own preteoce of mind must nerer forsake us — our own self-control must never yield to
tti oosweqnng current upon which we have persuaded others to embark with us. " The
ftoighta, the metaphors, the allusions, and the diction, should appear easy and natural, and
■n to ariat like so many spontaneous productions, rather than aa the effect of art or
likiir.* Bat while this is the rule, we must not forget that the haste, precipitaBcy, and
lUmce of Emotion, prevent clearness of thought, accuracy of expression, coherency of style,
■d censecutiveDeaa of reasoning. To feel is indeed necessary; to imagine vividly is requl-
dH; but to be ooiadvea the mere slavea of feeling or imagination, the imdisceming uttercfB
tf whataoerer tbey thrust into our mouths or convey along *' the gray goose-quill," will
Mm produce aught but vague astonishment or keenly-felt regret that the treasures of these
vAli facnltiaa ihould be wantonly squandered williout the working out of any great and
VaUiy parpoae -the performance of anything that might
" Health and Tigour to the soul impart,
Spread the joung thought and warm the opening hearL"
K baa been calculated, that if twelve men were employed for twenty-fonr hours a day,
>i|*iag neither for slera nor meals, reading at the rate of eighty worda per minute, thej
^^ baiclj keep up with the volumes published in London alone. In this tracta and
tooQi are inclnded; but if magazines, renews, and newspapers were added to the task,
■ Vnid reqahre upwards of ftrty men. The proportion of books which pay for the ezpensce
^Idatiiif and pnblishing is small; of those whieh leave profit very small; of those which
'li^ a aaoood edition, sot one in 1,840; of thoae which pasa throogh more than two^ not
^in many thgnMindff
. H a nan enptiei hia pnne into his head, no man can take il a;if vj boDi \aaB:u ba^
^^trtneat ^hatmhi^ s/wmja pa/3 the beat intereit.— FranJbRM.
88
IS THK STRICT OBSERTAHOB OP A SABBATH, AS ERJOIKED IK THE
JLiliginn.
IS THE STRICT OBSERVANCE OF A SABBATH, AS ENJOINED IN THE
OLD TESTAMENT, INCUMBENT UPON CHRISTIANS?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
HAvmo impartiallj ezmmined the ques-
tion under discossion, we hesitate not to saj
that the strict obsexrance of a sabbath— not
the Jewish sabbath, bat a sabbath analogical
thereto — is incumbent npon Christians.
Mark the term!
The word sabbath is a Hebrew word, the
appellatiye ngnification of which is, a ces-
tottbn, or ceasing from labour. In the Old
Testament scriptnres the term is variously
applied; — ^tathe seventh daj of creation, on
wluch God rested from his work — ^to every
seventh day id the week — to the feast of
unleavened bread — to the tenth day of the
seventh Jewish month — to every seventh
year, and to every fiftieth year, which was
the sabbath of jubilee. In the New Testa-
ment it denotes a whole week, Matt zzvii. 1 ;
Luke z. 12 ; — an eternal rest, Heb. iv. 9.
It is the seventh day, or sabbath of days,
with which we have to do in this article;
and the word sabbath, when applied in this
controversy to Christians, must be divested
of all its Jewish appendages and notions,
save that it signifies the sanctification of a
seventh portion of our time to holy and
religious purposes. This septenary portion
of time is sometimes called the sabbath in
reference to the Jewish sabbath; sometimes
Sunday, in allusion to the notion and name
of it among the heathens; and sometimes
" the Lord s day," and ** the first day of the
week." By the latter names it is denomi-
nated in the New Testament, and very pro-
perly, too; also in the writings of the chris-
tian Withers.
And it is the thing signified by the name,
rather than the name itself, with which we
have to deal at present Conceming this
we say, that the sabbath enjoined in ^e Old
Testament, and the Lord's day mentioned in
the New Testament, signify the same thing,
namely, a seventh portion of time, sanctified
or set apart from the remaining six by the
triune God himself for special and religious
purposes. For the present we will call this
sanctified portion of time the sabbath day.
We acknowledge that it is an institution, or
positive precept; but, more properly, a moral-
positive command ; and our opponents most
acknowledge, on the other hand, that it is a
divine, a moral, an equitable, and a rehgions
institution. Irene denies that it is a " moral
law," because it does not, says he, fall withii
the terms of the definition of a moral law,
which are these: — ^''It is a law which pos-
sesses force and vitality under all circnm-
stanoes, and in all times and places." Now,
the remark of Irene may be correct so far as
it respects the time of the institution ; but it
will not hold good with respect to the main
thing, the spirit and substance of the sab-
batical institution. That God should be
worshipped is a moral law; that he should
be worshipped in such a manner as can only
be done by a strict observance of the sabbath
is, to my mind, equally moral; and that he
will be thus worshipped by his fiiithfal crea-
tures for ever there is no question: hence
the soul and substance of the revelation-
sabbath is a great and moral law; and, per-
chance, the greatest that comes undnr the
notice of man. As it respects the time,
which is of divine appointment, it b a posi-
tive institution; and as such it is as much
obligatory on man, when known, as what a
moral law can be. It has the same dsin
to the name of " a moral law," and is en-
titled to the same amount of obedience and
reverence firom man as what the first three
laws of the decalogue are. And since God
has commanded men to worship him only,
to make to themselves no graven image, sod
to take not his name in vain, they are ss
much obliged to do these things^ay, and
mors so— tiian they are to refrain from steal-
ing. Then, if legally and morally bound
to observe the first, second, and third com-
mandments, we are equally bound to oibserve
the fourth.
The sabbatical institution is not a cere-
monial law, much less a Levitical one. It
OLD TESTAMEXT, nrCUHBERT UP09 CRRISTXAKB?
69
existed anterior to the embryo state of the
ceremonial law of Moses. Its origin is
ooeral with man*s creation; it is based on
man's nature and requirements, and comes
into the same category of positive laws as
does that of the institution of marrisge.
Both these laws were made bj God, near die
same time, for the same persons, and both
are equally obligatory on man generally.
We repudiate the idea that Moses spoke pro-
phetinlly, or by way of anticipation, of the
sabbatical institution, in Gen. ii. 2, 3 ; for it
is expressly said that God, there and then,
"blened the seventh day, and sanctified it.'*
That is, he divided the seventh day — the
day after the six in which he had created all
things — from other days, and set it apart
&r religious purposes exclusively.
That this institution is of paradisian
origin is apparent from what follows :— 1. In
Gen. ii. 3, it is said, " God blessed the seventh
day, and sanctified it." And at a subsequent
period Jehovah, referring to tiiis inaugura-
tion of the sabbath, assigned it as a cardinal
nason why men should *' remember and
keep the sabbath day holy.*" 2. That the
patriarchs observed and sanctified the sab-
bath is morally certain from the fact that a
holy race of men proceeded in a direct line
from our first parents, to whom this institu-
tion was first and solemnly given, and with
whom many of thoee good men were con-
temporary for some hundreds of years. The
institution seems to be tacitly alluded to m
G«L ym, 8—13; xxix. 27, 28. And that
It is not expressly mentioned in the book of
Genesis is not more strange or indicative of
Its non-existence in the patriarchal times,
than that it is not mentioned in Joshua,
Judges, Ruth, 1 Samuel, 2 Samuel, and
1 Kings; yet we know it existed and was
^oponrably observed at the time the latter
^ks were written. Besides, had a know-
'^ge of it not been transmitted from Adam,
whence had Moses his information respecting
^'8 mstitution of the sabbath? 3. From
£f od. xvL 5, 25, 26, it is demonstrably cer-
tuQ, the word of God being true, that the
children of Israel had a knowledge of the
J^bath, and that it was respected by them,
^ore their reception of the hiw at Sinai.
The mention of the sabbath in Exod. zvi.
was made on the fifteenth day of the teeond
znooth after Israel had left Egypt, whereas
»o law of Sinu was given in the third
month. 4. The Targum, Aben Ezra, Mai-
monides, Abarbinel, Ben Israel, and many
other learned rabbins, maintain the para-
disian origin of the sabbath. Moreover, the
Jews have a maxim to the effect that " he
that denies the sabbath is like to him that
denies the whole law.'* 5. Christ expressly
says, " The sabbath was made for man ;" not
for Jews only, but for man generally. It
was made for man at the time of his creation,
so that all men might share in the benefit
of it.
That the sabbatical institution respects
all men, especially those who are favoured
with revelation, will appear from these par-
ticulars :~>1. Its origin is coeval with man's
creation, and it was given to the first pair of
the human family, that a knowledge of it
might descend to all their ofispring. At
that time Jew and Gentile were unknown,
and the sabbath was a beneficent institution
common to all Adam's progeny. 2. The
reason assigned in the decalogue why men
are to remember and keep holy the sabbath
day is one of a general character, " For in
six days," &c. A reason of thia latitudi-
narian nature necessarily respects all men.
When speaking to the Jews only, another
and a more personal conuderetion is adduced,
viz., *'And remember that thou wast a ser-
vant in the land of Egypt," &c.. Dent. v. 14,
15. 3. Our Saviour says, '*The sabbath was
made for man;" which saying, fairly con-
strued, must be understood of all mankind.
4. A day of rest. A seventh day of cessation
from all bodily labour is necessary to the
well-being of man and beast in a physical
point of view. 5. The temporal benefits of
this institution are to extend to all men, and
to all beasts under man's control. 6. The
sabbath and the scriptural observation thereof,
either partially or wholly, either by the few
or the mass, is essential to the preservation
and perpetuation of the true worship of God
in the world. And the religious observance
of the sabbath is the grand theometer (ta
coin a word) by which may be ascertained
the religious temperament of man, society,
and nations. 7. Its incorporation with the
moral precepts in the decalogue is, in my
humble opinion, an incontrovertible proof
that the sabbath respects all men; and if all
men, it respects them at all times, in all
places, and under all drcumstanoes. Why
is the sabbatical law placed in the cat^goiy
.1 1
!■- nil '^lUK T oi'.^i i:v \\t r or a sai-.tath, as f.n.i.iinkd i\ thi
«1 ti. '.■».' 1;'.\\> Nshivii an- ii-,or;i]'v, ;:■ ucraljv. who bv tlit.-ir a.Ulitious anJ iniuiliir.* 'lij^'
and perpetaally binding, if not of the ume
kind in sabsUnce? Does Jrtrte think the
Bible is the progeny of chance, or the digest
of an erring novice? Does he not know that
even the sagacious Moses was the mere
amanaensis of the great nnecriog Spirit,
whose first kw is order? Does Irene know
better how to classify God's laws than God
himself ? " Charity hopeth all things."
Again : We deny tbat a strict observance
them a thousand times more so. iWwi'^y
by holy convocations of the people, bj det*
ing sacrifices, by singing psalms, by rei^
and ezpoonding the woid of God, by pnn^
by meditating on God, and by doing ^
was necessary, charitable, and good.
There is nothing impracticable in sll tUi;
nothing but what a holy man wonld dilight
in doing. Irene is startled at what ii n-
corded in Kumb. zv.3J — 35, respwtiaj! tki
of A sabbath, as enjoined in tbo Old Testa- gatherer of sticks on the sabbath day Iobk
ment, is irksome, oppressive, and impmc-
ticable. It may be so to those whose minds
aio not properly imbued with di\'ine grace,
which alone can enable them to put a correct
estimate on the ordinances of Jehovah. The
duty of worshipping God at all " is repug>
nant to the tastes and feelings of the great
majority,** while in a state of natuxe and
alienation from God; but this is no proof
that the cnjdned duty is illegal, oppressive,
or impracticable. The sabbath was insti-
tuted while man was in innocence, and its
observance was obligatory on him in that
state; and docs Irene maintain that the ob-
servation of it then was oppressive, and re-
pagnant to man*s feelings ? No. Well,
then, let man imbibe now, as far as he can,
the fi'elings and sentiments which he had
then, and the strict observance of the sab*
bath will be congenial to the best feelings of
his best nature ^his mind. By the way, if
a sabbath was necessary then, to keep the
soul right with God, how much more neces-
sary now? Let Irtne answer. If it was
incumbent on man to observe the sabbath in
commemoration of the creation ; and on Israel,
in addition to this, to observe it in comme-
moration of their exodus from Egypt ; how
much more is it incumbent on Christians
to obser\'e it in glorious commemoration
of the completion of man's redemption by
Christ?
Touching the impracticability of the sub-
ject we may remark, that the observance of
the sabbath, as ei\joined in the Old Testa-
ment, was as follows: — It was to be kept
iioly. How? Negaiirelyt by doing no kind
of servile and secular work, such as gather-
ing manna, the harvest, sticks, treading the
winepress, buying and selling, going from
bouM to boy food, &C., and kiudling fires.
put to death. This was not the elect if
any penalty annexed to an infraetiao of tk
sabbatical law, for no penalty was aDoend
to the breach thereof. The people did odt
know what to do in the case xinul tbcv had
•
consulted God; and it was by God'i cm-
mand, there and then given, that the aai
was stoned to death; see ver. 34^ Henctit
appears that the sablwtical law is one thiu
and the penalty consequent on a Vran
thereof is an<^lier. Be^es, the nan kn
punished was a pretumptnmu sinner, aiaij
be inferred from ver. 30, 31. He sctsdii
open defiance of God's pomtive and kaovi
law; and, according to the Mosaic law,«Ta7
man that did anght prMomptaoasIy wssti
be put to death. Another thiqg at vhkk
Irene stumbles is, the prohibitien plaflii
on the children of Israel not to kindk a &t
on the sabbath day. Now, bow docs Irm
know but this may aDade to an OfdisflT
fire, or such a one as was kindled for profilr'
in furnaces for fusing metals — ^in kilot ftr
drying bricks, com,or fbr cooking and bskaf I
That soch a fire is intended the Jews m
almost generally agreed. However, tbift ■
not a portion of the sahbatical law, bat t
Jewish ceremony to be observed oo tbea^
bath. The Jews were commanded to di
many things on the sabbath day which «
are not, and rwv rrraiL The Jews, on /mi'i
showing, could do withont firaa on the ab*
bath day; henee, not to kindle then *»
practicable. The more northern nstiflBi
cannot do without them; hence, to kiadSr
them is to do good; and the Locd of tk
sabbath has told ns that it is "rigbi todi
good on the sabbath day." God nsnr '»
tended that the formal and cerewoBisl <b>
servance of the sabbath shonld be the flf>
at all times, in all plaeei^ and nndersU e^
Oppfvs«i>eafltheMthmgsin&yac«mXoIrcitfAeQLTfia\iBaek The very nafenrt of tkivp
the/ irer» sot oppreaBiTe ciumg)i Ui \staiiV^t«VQ<^NsSLS»«u2BL«.'QiJta^ Vnitbcrdsa thi
OLD TESTAMENT, INCUMBENT VTOSt CHBISTIAMS? 91
aotelion mider diBcuuioa involve such a sav, Justin Martyr * Tertallian,f Cvprian,t
tUB^. The strict observance of the sabbath, Victorinua Petavionenau,!! Clemens Alexan-
M eajomed in the Old Testament, amonnts drinu8,§ Barnabas,^ Ignatius,** Dionjsius,! f
to tfab moch — to devote as much of onrwl ves Angastin,|]; Athanasias,§§ &c., <U1 speak of
ud ours to God on that day as we reasonably this day as being tlie Lord's day, and devoted
can. The iqjnnctioD, ^in it thou shalt do to religious uses; and were we at liberty to
M msnnerof work," is to be underi>tood with make extracts from their writings, wo coold
1 ^grce of limitation. For instance, the do it greatly to onr own advantage.
picsti and Lcvitra, officiating in the temple i There is jnat another point, and we have
SRviceon thiaday, had toworkashardag.iin done, /rem: says: — *^Any law, to the in-
CB it as what they had on ordinary days; fraction of which pains and penalties are
fcr on the sabbath day the sacrifices were annexed, becomes obsolete so soon as the
dfloUed, and all then had to be slain, flayed, penalties proper to it cease to be, or to be
Prided, boiled, or burnt, &c. See Numb, able to be, inflicted." From these premises
nriii. ; I^v. xxiii., xxiv. ; Matt. xii. 5. and an accompanying illustration, Irene
Ibay of the Jews entertained the same draws a mighty conclusion, viz., the abroga-
cmneous notions respecting the right ob- tion of the sabbath. To tolerate such reo-
iemnce of the sabbath that Irene seems to . soning as this would lead to serious and
A>; but Chriftt set them right, or tried to do disastrous consequences; for by the same
M, <m this subject. See Matt zii. 1 1 : Mark . process we might show that the laws of
iiL4; Lukexiii. 15. Not being a ceremonial, adultery, idolatry, cursing fathers and mo-
kit a moral'positive law, the ^viour did not < thers, incest, witchcraft, &c, are all abro-
■bolikh it; but reformed it, changed it as gated. Under the Old Testament law the
Rpuds time, and tacitly enjoined the ob- penalty of all these things was death; but
lOTsace of it <« his church. On this day this penalty is not inflicted now in these
«pcctallr he publicly instructed the jieople; I cases, yet the laws against such things are
h sanctified it by doing good on it; by his ' in full force. In some instances tht rioU-
Nnrrection he changed the sabbath from ; tion of these laws is punished by man, in
the serenth to the first day of the week; and others by God. It does not fall within man*8
ii one place he deeUres himself the Lord of province to punish the breach of moral laws,
tttitbbath (Luke vi. 5), thereby intimating ' the sabbatical law amongst the rest; bat the
tkt It was a part and parcel of his king- ' breach of these laws, if finally persisted in,
^n— an institntion perpetually binding on > will be punished, and that by One who has
d bit subjects. In keeping with all this, ' said, " Remember the sabbath day, to keep it
^ apostles obiierved this holy day, on which ■ holy.** J. F.
tt«y met together to celebrate the Lord's ' —
•ppa-, and on which they made public col- i * iS!*l°^' ***' **" ^'i wn a~.i«„ «in »«•
UZnit au •/ c a* - i + I>eAiiima,c«p. hi. p. .'BO; Apolop., cap.XTi.
*rtioo8 for the poorer saints. See Acts xx. / ; | p. brb . ^e idololat., p. GXi.
I Cqr. xvL 1, 2, where it is significantly t Cyprian^ £pist. xxxiii , p. 77.
«ned "the fint day of the week." John ! { '^f ^^^^vk "•**^%'ff'^7??^'^S5-^??Ws.
mH. :t U1.V T _j» J tf iri.'. J » \ ^ Stromat lib. VI. p. 49S ; /em., lih. vu. p. 530;
«■ It « the Lord s day. This day was /^^j , u^. ^ p. 437.
WVioQsly observed by the inunediatc sue- ; ir Epist. CatiioL, sec. ii. p. 344.
<•«« of the apostles and primitive fathers ** Ad Mape*., p. ;i5.
^ Ai^ u 1. /\ !• •» 1-1 f+ Apud Ku««b., lib. IV. cap. xxiii. p. 142.
« the church. Our limits preclude us : ,j j-'j^, „^Ui ' * **
IMiflg largflj en this point. Suffice it to ^ sj SocraL,lib. v. cap. xsii.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.^III.
I HATE just laid on one ude the February [ cannot avoid jotting down a few thoughts as
mAtr of the Briti$h Controcersialisty after . they occurred while reading his article. And
yvMrngthearticleoB the sabbath by "Glowr." ' I would commence with his first sentenee,
lb has by A most cxtrsordinary course of , which contains an assertion of a " deolension
*JiMUBg rMchsd as extraordinary conclu- I of spiritual religion,** which decknuA^ ^i^
'MM; anl, notwithstanding joor notice that . manifested by the ^ ii«^{R!C^\^:<?« ocsod^'OK^ ^
}^ hsrs Mo/Skieat Miiickt aa tbU subject, I .' th« geoernUty ot onx cioanVrj^DMn. Njsvvc^
ualiiT tlic I'lor, uvcr-wrnuj;!'!, und liuiuki'
btgrimad uUuD into & ponr and mon ta
liming 4tino«liliR*, Inultng of which naw
tbonghu and raniniuracca af bjgong daji
nitt, and nnew tha tone of huUth and hap-
jarifM that » mil nigh loat in the battle
with Ih« norld. And are thej boiitcrons
and meny when inbaling Iha conntrj i *
albntitiaSandajr? Well, I tnut that I
God, which I hope both I and " Gloi
reverence, will appreciate the jojona mirth
OS aaeonacioiui gntitndc to him for the le-
freehing draught. Snch trae and heart;
UlanksgiTiiig ii mora worth; than manj
who, nndn the ahadaw of a magnificent
bnildini;, thank God, in all hnmilitj '
Bpiiil, that " thej are not such aa these p
As to the aecond rIaaSf those "who, wT
the; pnfesa great reg&rd for all diiine
janctions, do, in oar opinien, inTiriablj
tranagnsa the law of the aahbath," in ' ' ' '
claaa I most place m^lf, T now, in
name, thank him for girrng ns credit for
iona motiTM. Wb hare accepted
ation, aa far as regarda the argn-
I has addaccd, and miiat confeat
aoj more than wboi it look i
bat la (aij now in the coon)
Bat ifthia ia ao, and I maint
hrara me oat in the aaaertioi
or aanctify one day a
ncTcr look place? It
for Mo«e, aa i lawgirer an
I, hat it will
an old traditii
enlightened period.
And, even if tbia part o
were granted, I think " Gloi
difficnltj in proving that i
implied aa being imparted l
The whole wei^t of ain is I
bmker of the aeventh daj,
kept all other da^a holf.
choice for the obHrrer of cei
mnst keep holf the acven
other woiUd hare done, su{
dition Ime, and it is to «
completion of the worid; t
these traditjonlata, oa no a
In the seccod premiss "
OLD TBSTAMKHT, INCUHBEIIT UPON CHBXSTIASS?
93
daj, not becanse the Creator rested on the
Berenth, and also because it i$ neoessaxy for
man to rest from his labour, and have a
period devoted to recreation and the renew-
ing of his strength. This necessity is based
Id the wants of his nature ; and these several
erents, whether it be the creation of the
world or the resnrrection of Christ, are onlj
nsed bj general consent to gain one day in
the seven, and that all may alike rest on
that day. Thns I perfectly agree, with
"Glowr," that " the sabbath was to be no
mere ceremonial observance, which after a
while was to be annulled, but was appointed
to be strictly observed by man, and the
obsenrance of it constitutes part of his duty
to the end of time." And I see no objection
to devoting the day to religious exereises;
00 the contrary, it ought to be so; but then
1 am afraid ^ Glowr" will not join me in
dechffing that seeking for health, giving
those oi^gans and limbs with which God has
intmsted me full soope and play, is essen-
tiallj a religions act, and that by doing so,
viz., any act that renden me more of a man,
healthy in body, mind, and feelings, I am
rendering a worthy, and I believe an accept-
able, oflering to my Maker.
We are next led to consider a passage in
Ittiah, in which God is represented as say-
ing, " The eunuchs that keep my sabbaths,
even unto them will I give in mine house,
and within my walls, a place and a name,
better than of sons and of daughters." 1
really cannot understand this passage; and
all I can make out of it is, that eunuchs are
told if they will keep the sabbaths, which is
impossible (for the Jewish observance of the
sabbath consisted entirely of ceremonies from
which they were excluded); if they will per-
form this impossibility, they shall receive a
name better than sons or daughters. Sons
anddaughtenofwhom? Of God? We are
spt to attribute the highest glory to Christ,
because he is the Son of God; but these
eunuchs will be put first, and receive a better
name than sons of Godl
But, having interpreted this passage to
his own satisfaction, '* Glowr" invites us to
inspect the New Testament. This was
hardly necessaiy; for, if he will look at it
without prejudice, he will find but very little
said on the subject at all there, and cer-
tainly nothing in favour of a sanctified day.
We do find, indeed, that Christ preached on
the seventh day; but so he did on the first
and second. He may have more often en-
tered the synagogue on the seventh ; but we
have no reason for believing he did so for
any other reason than that it was a leisure
day, on which he found the larger congrega-
tion to preach to, united, perhaps, with a
desire on his part to join the people, as far
he was able, in their oonomon usages. In-
deed, what is said in the New Testament
proves, if it proves anything, that "the
sabbath was made for man, and not man for
the sabbath," and that man was not to make
himself a slave to any ceremonies of the past,
which were supposed to have the authority
of God, and to none of the present, which
have merely the sanction of roan.
Upon such reasoning as I have tried to
expose he comes to the conclusion, that
"whatever sanctity attached to it under the
old dispensation belongs to it still. If se-
cular labours were formerly inconsistent with
it, they are so now; if journeys, luxuries, &c.,
were prohibited then, they are now. . . , .
Neither health, wealth, nor happiness must
be pnrehased at the expense of profaning the
holy day of God." One would really imagine
that Goid only took notice of our actions on
this one day, and that we are permitted to
follow our inclinations on the othera. And
the prohibitions of old times are prohibitions
still ! The prohibition against lighting fires
on that day remains in force at the present.
Does "Glowr" ever sit by a fire on a Sun-
day? It is not a necessity, and should
never be lit as a convenience. I fear devo-
tional exercises will not generate sufficient
heat on a winter's day to keep the body
warm all day long.
And then we are favoured with an extract
from " an editor." Is it to show his genius
or good sense ? He says : — " What a contrast
is presented on Monday morning between the
sabbath breaker and the Sunday school
teacher." True, if the former has spent hia
Sunday in debauchery, drinking, or in any
actions that are opposed to the health of the
body, then I can undentand the next sen-
tence, and will easily believe that the dif-
ference will be on the side of the Sunday
school teacher; not so, however, if he has
spent the day in the pure air, and under
^e exhilarating infiuence of a country life;
he will not then commence the week's
labour with a paUid cheek, but with a
94
IS TUB OBSSBTASGB OF A SABBATH DICUXBBBT OS CHRIBTIAXS ?
healthy toae, and a reaewed eneigf , Teiy
different from maoj- a teacher, espedallj if
^tte poor fellow is doomed to toil in a siiop
or in a ooaotiDg-hoaae for six out of e?«7
seven of those *' early aMnns" to the same
nunber of "* dewy cvos** that "Gbwr" talks
aboQt. Bat let ns not lose sight of oar
editor. He goes en to say, ** While the fea^
tores of the former (the sabbath breaker)
indicate the efiects of the most depressmg
nature, aad show that his sensoal gaieties
hsTo failed to gain him inward ease, the
serene eonntenaaoe of the latter (the Sunday
school teacher), and his firm, elastic step,
giro endenoe that his constitution has suf-
fered no Tiolence, and that his conscience is
at peace." Can this editor, or ** Glowr/* teU
me when it happens, on Sunday or on Monday,
that "sensual gueties" will not leave their
mark on the enjoyer? It is the ''sensual
gaieties,** not tiie day chosen for their en-
joyment, thataflfects the ooostitation. Bat,
from reading the above extract, eoe would
imagine that a mark had been set on the
forehead of every one not attendant on a
place of worship on a Sunday, as God set a
mark on Gain the murderer, that all men
should know him. Can anything be more
preposteroos? If ''Gfewr*' or his ''editor"
can point ont all the sabbath breakers they
pass on their way to bonness, methinks they
most possess something more than the com-
mon power of sight of us mortals. Is it
clairvoyance? And can they not detect
also those who cany their bodies into the
temple, but break the sabbath by leaving
their minds in their counting-house, in the
afiairs of the week, or in the secolar habits
of their life? How is it that these deficiencies
do not set their mark in the ooontenanoe, as
well as " sensoal gaieties,'* if the evil oonsists
in breaking the sabbath?
On the whole, although I certainly desire
to gain a right coDdusion on the subject, I
do not find that "Glowr** has helped me
much on the road. We have merely a nam-
ber of arguments that axe baseless, at least
to me, premises that I canaot admit, and
conclusions that fall to the ground in eoo-
seqoence of the weakness of their support
Nor can I see that "Harold* has been
nrach more soccessfal. I perfectly agree
with him that none of the ten oommMid-
ments, as far aa they depend on " the moral
eonstitatioa of man,'* can possibly be abfo-
gated. Bot if he argues for the sanctity of
Uie day beeause based alone in the nml
want of the homan constitatiai, I can
searody see how he can escape the conchk-
aon that it is only to be kept sacred to
afford rest to the body and mind. It is «f
little conse<{uence whether the day be the
first or the seventh, the third or the foorth.
The moral want remains the same, and while
it lasts the necessity for a oeisatieo from
labour will eidst. As such let it be kept
sacred; or, as "Hanld" suggests, kt as
have two such days, if such anrnngeaHSt
can be made. There is no fear of oar d/^
voting too little time to worldly avocations,
and a sacred day of rest should be hailed as
a boon; but this, ronember, is the moral
aigomeot.
And his observatioason the existence of a
God, worsMp, Stc^ are very good. I see no
objection in one whole d|^ being spent io
the worship of God; no, nor in ^pending tbs
whole seven days so; it is incombent upon
OS that we do so. We are to " pray without
ceasing;" and whatsoever we do, whether it
be eating, or drinking, or anything else, we
are to do it to the glory of God. Let ns do
thus. Secular habits are not ineligioas;
but, on the contrary, into the minutest action
of life we can throw a zeligioos spirit; a
religiotts man must, as a necessity <tf his
being, do so; and if we enter into any en-
gagement into which we cannot throw this
life, that is antagonistic to soch a spirit,
it shows a dereliction of duty on our part.
This worship, that Christ and his aposths
demanded, did not consist of one day; they
did not preach on one day alone; but, tor and
in every day and minute of our life we should
thos show forth the indwelling of God. That
such a being should be led on a Sunday to
worship with the people, and acoordiflg to
common custom, is lilinly enough ; bat thst
it should lead him to avoid a search for
health, and all consideration for pleasafc, is
not at all within the limits of a ooadwaiB
from such arguments. Nor doss it ncce^
sarily follow that sach a Buta should (ofer
at all into the worship of the peepb; he
may veiy legitimately converse with M m
nature, and uplift his hesrt to his Ciealer is
company with the famooenoe of creatko, in-
stead of with those who acknowledge that
they of themselves can thmk no good tiling.
O.W.W.
WOULD XDUCATI02r ERADICATE CRIMB ?
95
:]pjliln5n|ijii[.
WOULD EDUCATION ERADICATE CEIME?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
h the discnatioii of any question, true
^nim vould teach ns to approach it in a
tfoit of earnest and impartial inqairj ; our
Ml beiog rather to find the anaw«r of truth,
An to maintain miAltered oar preconceived
tpaiioos. If we, being thos the children of
viiioni, are M with Umndless faith and hope
te dtiote our powers to the acquisition of
tMh, we shall, as a consequence of this de-
ivtioo, rest satibfied with no answers to our
■{Biries bat sach as are compreheusire and
CMpIete.
h Older to discoter a correct answer to
fti fsestioa before us, it is expedient, first,
li toqoire % clear conception c^ the nature
m Mane of crime. Secondly, to understand
tti Mtore and object of education. And,
hitly, from a consideration of the relation
oMbg between crime and education, to dis-
iHW an aoswer to oar present inquiry.
lost As regards the nature of crime. The
fiiwm idea of a crime is, that it is an un-
^JIJkfctOQS action performed by an intelligent
Si aooonntabla being. Nov, right and
VHsg, good mod evil — as moral qualities —
kwi Bot their source and residence in ac-
Ami; their abode is in the spirit. A man's
Mbb are not the caose oif his spiritual
^kkf bat the eflect. Crime is the embodi-
Mtt of a sinful spirit. Would we prevent
Atcflset, ws most eradicate the cause. As
hiBUescaimot bear grapes, so, by no amount
tf iigeoaitj, can righteous action be tortured
^ at evil Mint ** Either make the tree
M ad hit noit good, or else make the tree
*i>apt and his fhut oorrupt.'' As one tree
k^ woeh friiii, so does the evil principle
[h|lsj itnlf in an infinite rariety of actions.
•k Ktieos joa many, the crimes are mul-
^^^am; bat the sin is one. As electricity
%dy csiste wiwther it deep in the dond
*iidl to lbs earth; so a sinful spirit is
IJMlf mjiftd, whtther it bear abundantly
'^ hwm «f criae, er wiiethsr the moral oor-
^Hn Ivk in tba beait, disguised by the
^k if A — itliiwiwn eorterior. Sin (of
^icb Clint ii Um UBh^dimeDt, ms we hare
seen) consists not in a certain course of con-
duct or action which may be discontinued or
modified at pleasure; but, being a principle
residing in the spirit, and entwining its roots
about the foundMion of our being, it behores
us, if we would find a specific for the disease,
to first obtain a knowledge of its essential
nature. To this end we inquire, What is
sin? which naturally suggests another ques-
tion, Whence is its origin? We regarded it
just now as a principle. Now a principle,
or original cause, can have no origin ; for if
regarded as an effect, it ceases to be a prin-
ciple. In fisct, there can be but one absolute
principle, or first cause — namely, the self-
existing God. But God and evil not being
one, evil, if an existence at all, must be a
subordinate one; and, as such, must neces-
sarily be a product of the only original cause.
But this cannot be. God being absolutely
good, cannot be the author of evlL If evil,
therefore, be neither a eelf-existJng power,
nor a subordinate existence, the only ratumal
inference which can be drawn is, that it has
no being. Evil has no being ! &irely reason
must here have led us astray? Whence and
what then are all the guilt, misery, and death,
to which human nature is subject? Are not
these evils, and have they not existence?
The answer suggests itself. Evil is non-
entity. As darkness is the absence of light,
ignorance the absence of knowledge, death
the absence of Kfe; so eril is the absence of
good. It is non-existence as opposed to
God, who is an absolute, limitless b^ng. De-
pravity is the ebb of spirituality : sin a void
in the soul, iriiich was wont to be the abode
of the great I A^
In further pursuit of this subject, we now
inquire. What is education? By the term
education is commonly understood that
amount of culture and instraetion which b
requisite to adapt a person to that porticular
station in society which it is intended ha
should occupy. This kiad of education is
supposed to be caxn«i on. ladL tms^^^^
during the ^^enod. eft 300)^ T^"^ '^'^ ^
Soprenic. The object of cilucitluii in luit
oatwudiooi*t7,batBFiritullib. Tlwfalae
•f M^J or ft political eommiuii^coiiautiDg
in itt inburTieaoj to tlw atUiniiMiit of tfaia
end. The period of edacitlaa mcludca Ihe
whole duntioH of the presoit itilc of being ;
«dnc«lion or cullore bang a deiign, mnning
like a thread throngh life, and entering the
ngions of the unseen and eternal, i* lost to
mortal light, and enda we koow Dot where.
In short, the term education, Id ita full and
compreheniiie aenee, aigsifies Ibe leading ont
or oidbldlng of all the powere and principlea
of onr uatare — from the inferior, ur aaimal
facnltiea, ap to the anperior attritmta of oar
■piritual natnre. It makes lu couicioni of
poiren Ibat gnup infinitj of life deep and
bmndteaa, merging and mingling with the
ewential beiag of God. The means of
cdncation are ratied, abuiidaDt, and nniver-
ull; available ; the piDcess ia nomenlons,
and ita aim incalculably high. Thej eom-
priie all the lenaatioDi, perceptioni, and
uperience, of which oar pecaliar ataU of
b«*ing ii ansceptible. All objects apeak of
Uiat kmdred Bubstaoee irliich the pro);re*aice
■Dol ia Melting. All the emieaceat appear-
Duika bnnight fonrard bj
port of an opposite cooda
moatlj aound and good, a
Had it not been onr prtrio
the coltnra of the inttUecl
aofiicient remedj for the e
we should prolublj hare 1
tnlightened hj the perrua
article. We quite agrea
knowledge of honun htarti
acquaialanca with the phf i
not recampeoM it* poaaeaaoi
true knowledge eierta a mo
and porifjing infinence np
racier of him who attains i'
tioo ia not. Would the moi
of the inteUectnal powtn
or, Would edneitioiL, b
" lunited idea of the mult
port of which tbef nmtribu
prodDce thla ntolt? he
cata Gtimt?
WOULD KDUCATI02I ERADICATB GRUIE ?
97
iias clothed his dwelling-plaGe with beaaty ;
the Teiy stars of heaven, as well as the flowers
of earth, have breathed of loye— the lore of
liis sDd their Creator. The affections, like
bright angels, have dnstered around him;
and the jasmine porch, the cheerful hearth,
the look of love, and the toach of tmsting
tenderness, has each symbolized the love of
his heavenl J Father. . . • 0es|nte of all, crime
exists an nnsabdnable specimen of earthli-
ness." Bat why does crime exist, in spite of
theie heavenly iuflaences ? Is it not that
the criminal is deaf to their voice, blind to
their beanty, and nnconscions of their exist-
ence? And does not crime decrease in exact
proportion to the subjection of the human
heart to these purifying agents ? And again,
we most remember that these high infloences
are not education, but the means whereby
Question is effected. An education trans-
cending all human conception of which all
may be the subjects who in the simplicity of
faith abandon themselves to these divine in-
structions— ^and which none are totally inca-
pacitated from receiving, for in every breast
there still exists the traces of the Creator's
image —
" The darkest night that veUs the akjr,
or beauty hath a ahare ;
The blackest heart hath signs to show
That God still lingers there.'*
This lingering of God in the soul is a snro
ground for hope uid confidence in the ulti-
mate recovery of humanity . The specific for
moral evil is the influx of eternal love. Edu-
cation is the process of its application. The
education of humanity into love, and truth,
and right, is the means, and the only means,
whereby crime may be eradicated.
COSMOPOLITS.
NEGATIVE ABTICLE.'-III.
Thomson, ** Castle of Indolence;* Canto XLI.,
ii. 60, 61 ; and Plato's " Meno."
Thb deep and thrilling interest attaching
at the present moment to questions of this
nature, in all their aspects and bearings,
might well make one pause and reflect
Anziooaly before giving utterance to opinions
which may influence hundreds of thoughtful
jninds, and thus eventually tell upon the
interest and happiness of thousands. For if
one z>»pectable, thoughtful, and earnest
member of society can do much for the
removal or alleviation of the moral and phy-
sical evils which he sees in operation among
liis poorer and less intelligent ndghbours;
^ by retrenching his own luxuries and
snperflnitiesjhe can caose their privations to
^ less keenly felt, and by his influence and
example can improve their moral character,
Uien solemn is the responsibility which rests
on those whose office it is to mould the
judgments of such men; for it is not difficult
to perceive that the conclusions they form
upon this question must materially affect
their conduct in private life: if wrong, they
^n bias their judgment, marshal their
energies in the canae of evil, and direct their
charities into a wrong channel Now if, on
the one hand, the affirmative is held in all
its entirety, there is danger of one's bemg
led to r^rd the development of the intel-
lect— the mere fruit of scholastic instruc-
tion— as a specific for all the sociaI evils
connected with crime — ^as the summum bo~
num on which statesmen and legislators, on
which parents, tutors, and guardians of the
young, should henceforth fix their exclusive
attention; while, on the other hand, extreme
views of the opposite nature are calculated
to produce a conviction that scientific and
literary education is a thing of little or no
worth, as not conducing to individual or
social prosperity, but, on the contrary, fos-
tering " an undue and overweening self-con-
ceit, leading men to doubt the immortality
of the soul, and to scoff at revealed religion."*
This latter error, through the infiuence of
pride, ignorance, and prejudice, has at one
time done much mischief in this country;
and, its dangerous tendency having been
fully tested, the case is now reversed, and
too much instead of too little value appears
to be set upon education as a moral agent.
Hear Sir A. Alison: — ^*'It was said that
education would lay the axe to the root of
crime — that ignorance was the parent of
vice; and by diffusing the schoolmaster you
would extinguish the greater part of the
wickedness which afflicted society; that the
providing of cheap, elevating, and innocent
amusements for the leuure hours of the
working classes would prove the best antidote
• Sir John HersohaL
I
98
WOOLD BOUOATIOX XRADICATS CBUf B ?
to tlieir degndfaij^ propeiuitiea ; kdA that
tfam, and then only, would erime naJOj be
'arretted, when the lamp of knowledge bnmed
in eveiy mechanic a wonahop, in erery pc^
sant^B cottage. Tha idea waa plaoaibloi it
waa Bednetng, it waa amiable, and held fcnrth
the prospect of general improvement of
morala from the enlarged enltsre of mind.
The present generation ia generally, it maj
almost be said anivereallj, imbued with
these opinions; and the efforts accordingly
made for the instruction of the working
elaases during the laat twent j-five yean have
been nnpreeedented in any former period of
our history. What hare been the reenlts?
Has erime declined in proportion to the
apread of education? Are the best instructed
dasMS the least Ttcions? Has eating of the
fruit of the tree of knowledge diminished
the power of the tempter? &) far from it,
the oonsequencea, hitherto at least, haye
been melancholy and foreboding in the ex-
treme. The criminal returns of Great Bri-
tun and Ireland for the last twenty years
demonstrate that the uneducated criminals
are about a thhrd of the whole; in other
words, the eekiaUed crimmafs are to the im<
educated as two to one. In Scotland the
educated criminals are about /our times the
uneducated; in England just double; in Ire-
land they are neiriy equal. Nay, what is
atin more remarkable, while the number of
uneducated criminals, especially in Scotland,
is yearlj diminishing, that of eduoated ones
h yearly increasing."* This passage, ex-
tracted from an essay of absori>ing though
painful interest (on crime and transporta-
tion), backed as it is by a variety of well-
authenticated Btatistics, would of itself be
BuiBcient to decide the question in the nega-
tiYe; but the hdU they indicate are to many
80 new and startling that it will be uaefol to
aee how fiir thej are borne out bj the au-
thority of scripture, the testinon j of anti-
quit j, and the prindpleB of mental philosophy
and social econom/.
In the first place, then, scripture, aa all
who are fiunifiar with its pages know, speaks
ererywhere of mankind as being in a ^en,
^^Bgoierate condition, the result of the tra&s-
grcsaion of the common progenitor of all,
•"Bmji," vol. L p. flA«. 8«e, howcw. Sir
J. B. LTttoQ't - Eogluut ana the English/*
book Ul. chap. ilL-T. ; and •peetally oote p. 3«4,
the ftnt man, Adam, of which coadHioB it
tacitly supposes the aetive exiatenee of
crime to be a necesaaiy elemenl — ^that ** by-
one man sin entered into the world, and
death by sin; and so death pasaed upoa all
men, for that all have sinned" (Bom. r. 12).
It ftirther represents men ae unaUe, by
their own will or aet, to raiae thenaeiveo
from that fallen estate (1 Tim. iL 5; alao,
see Article X. of the Church of Engluid),
asserting that their restoration to the kat
imago of their Maker, by which alone they
can become incapable of erime, b to be
aocompliahed only by the mediatioa of the
second Adam, the Lord Jeaua Christ, and
that this restoration will not be perfteted
till his second eoming to judge the wurid ;
at which period, if we receive some pMa^es
of scripture in their ordinary interpretatieB,
we have reason to believe that infidelity
and crime shall be more than usually ram-
pant (Luke xviii. 8; 2 Pet iii. 3, 4; Kev.
xiz. 8, 9); that then, and not till then,
shall be produced that change in nan^s
nature which no system of human edueatiott
could have effected. The language of our
Lord himself on various occaajona aa, far
instance, in the parable of the tares and the>
wheat (Uatt. xitL 24->39), and of the seed
sown, i, e, the word prndied (Muk iv.
14 — SO) — evidently pobts to theeendnMn
that not even that most eileetive of tH eda-
cations, the preaching of the gospel, slwdd
ever be able completely to regenerate man-
kind and redeem them from sin and crime.
The historical parts of the Bible abo tcaeb
the same great truth; for the moial ami
ceremonial code delivered to Ifosea— whidi
was, in every sense of the term, a moral d»-
dpKne, or education for the Jewish pesfJi
fttiled in saving that unhappy race from fil-
ing into the most K>athaome and dehaaoig
superstitioas, the most foul dbaeenitic% the
moet horrible crimes. In the imfsweiu
language of the great i^ostle of theGeafe9s.
they ''changed the truth of God into a liai
and worahipped and aerved the craatnre
mora than the Creator;** or, aa a pewufal
champion of the cause el popular edncalisD
puts it, "The revealed kw of God in tke
midat of them, the prephefes aad ethri
organs of oracular eonimumeatian; lel^isiLi
ordinances and emblems; fiKts nada aad
expressly intended to embody truths la ^mf:
and various series; the who]* sjatemef
VrOVLD JEDUGATlOar ERADICATE CRIME?
99
nperiiaiDaii govenunent, canttituted a$ a
tdtoot, all these wvre inefiectoal to create so
aneli joit thought in their mindfl us to save
tbsn fnm the vuneet and Tilest fancies,
diloiioQi, and sapentitions."* And the
mdi of St. Paul in tarioos places woold
Mm to indicate that crime had funnd its
irajr into the christian church eren in his
fwn tuMi when it might hare been sapposed
Mitfrae from all taint of cormption (1 Cur.
a. 18-22; 2 Cor. zii. 20, 21; xiii. 1^5,
ku\ and also Acts ▼. 1 — 11). Sufficient
ktt Doir been adduced to shoir the teaching
tf hfllj writ (m this point; but as there are,
inbaUj, some who would not regard the
Bible aa an authority at all, and others,
yvfaapi, who think its utterance not suffi-
ilBtlj distinct to set the matter at rest, it
iriO be useful to widen the range of discus-
MB, bj considering it next in reference to
■u's moral, social, and intellectual nature.
Let OS, howerer, previously see what light
ifakory can throw upon the matter. I^
As teach the positive theory? Farother-
VM. The gigantic intellects of the phi-
Iwpheri of old, who flourished in the most
Ufimt period of tho earth*s intellectual
IhUmj, and who^ amid a race which has
Wer been surpassed fur the political wisdom
^ dl its sons, though regarded as oracles of
hniDg and wisdom, were unable, by the
-Idl of nature alone, to construct a system
"•wlncation which should have the desired
^iietf And is it not a sufficiently trium-
ibnt refttaikn of the positive theory, that
ifMy pagt of the world's history is but a
vtd^gM of crimes ? Having witnessed,
4«, Um total £u]ure of the Hebrew polity,
i4th its theocracy, ita stem unbending mo-
wHj, ita constant reference to a higher
*!■•* than man's; having witnessed the
Mbi of the Greek phikieophy and the
ItmtOL legiriition — the most perfect of their
iUi^ ftiuided npoQ the profonndest views
tf haiaaB natiirB and the varying conditions
rfiacittj— one night well be pardoned for a
dd^ dfjgne of scepticism as to the effinacy
rf ay BNfelj homan education, or system
^ lalnni idigioD, in restraining or eradi-
dM iBBato pnpeDsities of man, which
mast, in some casea, find their
* J. TMlsr, ** SoMf on the Evils of Popular
■eiHea,* seel. i. ^l^, Sod edit,
f Scblcgers •'Fhfloeivi^ ^Uh" pp. 9, 246.
" )
I limit in crime. But, having been what his-
I tory teachci», let us, in the next place, in'^uiro
what is the simplest, the most natural,
I meaning of the term "education?** Is it
not an educing, or drawing out and strength-
ening man's innate* faculties? And do we
not, by a ffood edacationf understand also a
weeding out, aa far as practicable, his innate
vices? Or is it not implied in saying that
a person is to be taught to be truthful,
honest, courageous, temperate, forgiving —
tliat the opposite vices are to be kept in
check — that they exist, in fact, and need to
be kept under? And what does the neces-
sity for such a training for a moral agent
imply? Clearly that there is a strong no-
tural tendency in man, if left wholly to him-
self, to fall away from mural rectitude — to
lapse eventually into crime. And as this
tendency is natural, it must cease only at
the death of the individual. It may, indeed,
be restrained — may be kept latent by a
concurrence of circumstances; but it can
never be wholly eradicated. All men are,
occasionally, sorely tempted ; and the pnrest,
most virtuous, and best instructed, have
sometimes yielded to temptation. This
being the c&sc, the education must continue
in force during the whole course of a man's
life — must, in fact, be law ; nothing short of
law can reach a man at every period and
turn of hb existence, and act as a ccmtinual
restraint upon the natural tendency of his
inborn impulses. Now, I have no objection
to consider law as a kind of education. But
suppose the wisest laws, framed by the
acutest intellecta, to be in full operation.
Could they possibly provide for every con-
tingency that should occur? Could they
anticipate and obviate e\'ery temptation to
transgression which every subject in all
future time ^ould meet with? Could they
prevent occasion of quarrel arising between
the community they governed and others,
and the natural consequences, war, blood-
shed, rapine, retaliation? "The laws of
this country, including the acts of the legis-
lature and the decisions of our supreme
courts of justice, are not contained in fewer
than fifty folio volumes; and yet it is not
once in ten attempts that you can find the
* Locke's theory ("Eauiy on the Human ll\\-
dentanding,' «bav.v.,VLV\b«x\nKa^aa\»VxAMX»
mental or pradicsA pnne0p\c*« "W%a Xnwa. w«t-
tumed by Reid and »\ib»a\va!t\iX'v'^>\Q««!^to»t^
of IiAturc, a leucljpr t]i;it vijll >;iy li> him
W«j donblfnl turn, " This is the way, wn
7« m it." I nawtr, tbU luEnnl Uwi bi-
mrer, in 1117 tima 01 conntrj, bul tofilde
rer oD lh« laindi of mea to prartot erim
tba DbTJani reuon Ibal tbiiir iaflocnce
felt onlj with tin, biller eiperim™ of tht
ccrtaintj — th«t their action ig onob«rvr
ontil crime has be«n perpetrWedi and, i
oodtj, that the qutilioa eiidtntlj h
nftrenca to an edncatioa institated bj i
man aalboritj.
Again; In erery connlry Ihere an ■
ecsunljdiSerent classea; some mait till
■oil, aoIDS tiads to otiirr conntries, at
prepare clothing, lomc bnild; others will
Toqnired to fuUii the arduous but honann
datiea of atale officen, to traouct peace
war, 0117 on foreign correspondence, H
the admin iatration of tlie laws, Ac; *
■ome f«w would, probably, be riempt
tvtrj kind of inToluDtary labour; hi
obviotuly, *er7 different kinds and de;
of knowledge and skill wonld be requ
Gbonld all parlies, then, receire the
•dncation or not? and wonld that kim
dtene of edaeatlon Hhich would be snil
WOULD BDUOJLTIOar SRADtCATB CRIME?
101
■df-reproach, in the ehecks and paiuMB of
their career ; and b j men in the near prospect
of death and judgment ezpreesing, in bitter
regret, the acknowledgment that they had
perBisted in acting wrong while thej knew
better." To snch acts all, at times, have strong
indnoements; for instance, to intempenmce,
licentioiisness, revenge, &c.; and such in-
dneements being frequently the results, so to
speak, of the operation of the natural laws of
man's constitution, we hare no reason to
expect that they will be, in all cases, suo-
cenfnllj resisted, especially by those who
have no higher motives than the sanction of
human teadiing and human laws to oppose
to them. Thus scripture, history, and philo-
sophy unite in proclaiming the falsity of the
potttire hypothesis.
And now briefly to advert to some of the
more plausible objections of our opponents.
I find that the arguments of G. P. W. and
'^ Dromo" have been in a great measure met
by what precedes. I obsorve, farther, that
although it may be perfectly true that man's
moral nature is trainable to a great extent
(and it is, no doubt, a sacred duty for every
one to advance the canse of general education
to his utmoet), yet it is not made to appear
ficom the affirmative articles that training of
any kind will in every case, and under all
possible circumstances, be successful ; on the
contraiy, experience has proved the fallacy
of such expectations; by experience I mean
that of all ages as recorded in history, for I
find not from any ancient or modem author
that in any state, at any time, under any
pditj or public system of religious or secular
discipline whatever, crime was utterly un-
known; and I appeal to the evidence of that
experience, which is positive, as conclusive
against that of mere theory, which is merely
negative. When " Dromo** asserts that re-
ligions education of some kind will eradicate
crime, which he admite to be prevalent
becaose religion is not properly taught, he
forgete to inifonn us how he would have it
taught, and what description of it. To
ivhich, for instance, of all the denominations
described in John Evans's sketch would he
award the pahn of superiority in this noble
work? For individuals of ewery shade and
shape of religions opinion, and of the highest
possible intdleotual endowmente to boot,
have been convicted of the most revolting
crimes. And the objection that their heads, i
not their hearto, were trained, is futile. To
take one instance out of thousands, was the
heart of King David properly trained? Who
that has ever held silent converse with the
"sweet psalmist of Israel" would deny it?
Yet did he never fall into crime, crime of the
most horrible nature, crimes abhorrent from
the purest sympathies of the heart, as well
as the dictetes of the reason? Until, then,
'* Dromo" can prove that an ideal religion of
his own will accomplish, in the hands and
by the agency of man, what no religion,
christian or pagan, monotheistic, or poly-
theistic, or pantheistic, has yet accomplished,
his argumente fall to the ground. Again:
6. P. W. makes the assumption (it is de-
fended by nothing deserving the name of
argument that I can discover) that ignorance
is a principal cause of crime, and baues on it
the conclusion that therefore a mera course
of instruction will eradicate crime. His
minor, however, is not included in his major
promise. Supposing a criminal act ever to
be a result of sheer ignorance, which in this
country, at least, of christian and Protestant
enlightenment is extremely doubtful, it does
not necessarily follow that the removal of
that ignorance will destroy crime, for it
cannot remove the criminal nature which
leads to it. The crime may be changed in
kind, as & A. J. has remarked, perhaps also
in degree, so that one who in a state of
ignorance commits murder, theft, arson,
incest, without compunction, might, when
taught that these acte were opposed to
** kws divine and human," still be guilty (^
selBsh ambition, of forgery, fornication, or
fraud of some kind or other, from destitution
or the force of evil passions. Poverty,
hatred, lust, ambition, pride, avarice, have
repeatedly led men to crimes, of the nature
of which they were so fully aware that many
have surrendered themselves to justice im-
mediately after. Once more : — It is difficult
to conceive how G. P. W.'s fine-drawn dis-
tinctions between the kinds of education
advisable for persons of different characters-
and habite could be carried out in practice.
Parente are, undoubtedly, the best judges of
the dispositions, as well as the most efficient
instructors, of their offspring ; but how seldom^
will a parent admit that then existe any
very vicious tendency in his young children,,
how seldom correct it properly when aware
of ite existence! Now, physiologists and
102
WOULD XDVC1TK»I BBADICA.TB dlia ?
teftchera an pretty w«ll agreed that the
moral charaoter ia> in moat inataiiGCs, fbrmed
at ten years of age, althoagh th« natural
timidity and hashfofaieia of the yoong may
irholly coBoeal the darker ahadca of cha-
racter till much later ia fife. Thus a re-
Teogefal and oolorgiTiog temper is often
formed, there is reaaon to beliere, as early
as seven; hut fer want of an object to call it
promineotly forth it may remain in abeyance,
and ba nnsuspected by any bat the owner,
till ssTsnteen.* It is thus impossible to
form an accurate judgment of a pexaon*s
character when young; and yet, if it is to
bo efiective, education mutt then oommeoce.
How, then, as G. P. W. suggests, could an
appropriate edueatioa be s^cted for each
indtridual? for since, as we haye seen, the
character cannot be known except by its
outward effects, and therefore in most cases
tiU manhood, how oould the education be
applied before the oommissioaof crime? and
how, in such a system, oould crime ever be
eiectuAlly endioated?
But enough has, perhaps, been said to
osnvince even O. P. W. and ** Dromo** of the
utter inefficiency, not to mention the imprao*
ticability, of their plans*! Until they or
some one else devise better, we have small
reason to hope for the regeneration of society.
But what is the cause of the featfnl
preTalence of crime in this country at pre-
sent, if not ignorance ? I believe the true
answer to this question will be found in the
fdlowing passage from the already- quoted
*' Essay" of Sir A. Alison, which, in conclu-
sioo, I request the thonghtful and philan-
thropic reader most senonsly to ponder; it is
pregnant with meaning {pp. 561, 562): —
" Degraded aad sensual men have an in-
stinctive aversion to religious truths, and a
still greater diataste for reUgieus restraint.
The carnal man is at war with God. When
will this great truth, so loudly proclaimed in
every page of the gospel, be praoticaUy ac-
knowledged and acted upon, even by those
who prodaim it most loudly from the pulpit ?
To those who are acquainted with the ana-
* See Foster, on a men's writing mfmoin of
hhmelf.
•¥ A more idaumble pkn is that of Ksr— *' So-
cial Condition and Eduoation of the People,"
vol. ii.—tbroagboat ; but see an answer to it,
" Eoleclio Reriew,** voL iv. jip. sei^-^g.
tomy of crime, and who see exemplified ia
real lifo the couiaes of the wicked, its truth
becomes not only evident, but of ovenrhefaD*
ing importance. The strength of the wocid
consists in its pleasures and enjoyments. It
is the vehemence of the desue for these
pleasures and enjoynicnts which censtitutea
the ftarfal force of its temptations. Hbe
whole progTSBS of society, the whole eflerts
of man, the whole accumulations of wealth,
are directed, in ita later stages, to augmnt
these desires. Necessities, in a large por-
tion of society, being provided for, pleasuwu
only are thought of. CiviliaatioB increaMi
them, for it augments enjoyment; eommsree^
for it multi|dica the wealth by which it ii
purchased; ingenuity, for it adds to the in-
struments of luxury ; knovMge, for it spteidiB
an ardent and often exaggerated picture of
its gratifications. The whole eflbrts of man
in civilized life are directed to the increase
of human enjoymeot, the incitement of hv*
man desire. Need we wonder, then, if i<efi->
gion, which prescribes an abetinenee frona
the pleasures of sin, which enj<»ns oontinenoe
to the sensual, sobriety to the diunkody
reflection to the unheeding, gentleness to the
irasdUe, restnint to the voUiptneus, probity
to the avaricions, punishment to the prafii-
gate, meets in suda an age with veij §tm
wtariesf Sonne, doubtless, will alwuys be
found, who, disgusted wUh the profligacy
with which they are surrounded, «re led enl^
the more rapidly to a life of rectitude aad
duty by saoh vice; but how many an thcj
aaudst the crowd of sensual and unrefleotii^?
Perhaps one in twenty. The great anas
pass quietly by on the other side; they do net
say there is no God, but they live altegethcr
without God in the werU.**
I regard, then, the opinion of Ariafeetle
aad of bis followere — that viitae is of two
kinds, intellectual and xnoral, of which the
intellectual arises from teaching, the menl
frem the right formation of habits* — as fiaiee
in theory and dangerous in peaetioe, Isadiait
ewntnally to downright materialism. And
my Tssden may think tbisaot aoirafrohable,
when they remember that the nvtval of the
Aristotelian ]^ilesophy in<}eraiafiy and ebe*
where, has been ootempeianeoao with tha
spvead of ntionaliam aad soqiticism. F. J. L.
* Etbios,beOkii.
IB THB GBASACTKB OF WELU2TGT0N WOXSTUT OF AD3II£ATIOir ?
103
Inston}.
IS THE CHABACTEB OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON WORTHY OF
ADMIRATION ?
AFFIRMATIVE ABTICLE.— III.
"I im one of fboM vfio bsve probablj paswd |
tlngor period of my lUb ea^ftftd in war than .
■M SMB. and principally in etcil war; and I
■■K uj this, tkat if I could avoid, bj aiijr tacri-
Jkivkalerer, even one mouih of civil war in xhb '
«NM7 to wbich I was attaobed, / uvuld taeri' .
Jkt ay Itfe in order to do it. I tay, tliere is |
MlUDg which dcatrort property, eat* up pro*- |
lal^mrOie roott^ and demoralizes the character, •
Hfte wgree that civil war does : in such a crisis '
'tekiBdofaTory man is rai*ed against his neigh-
\mtf ^^aiust his brother, and again»t his father ;
nrriiit betrays master, and the whole scene ends
and derastatiou.'*— TAtf /afe />«Are «/
"ThsDuka of Wdlington's despatches are a
■MuoBcnt (^ sagacity, derotedoess, patience,
^Wkaee, dedsion, hvmanity, temp^wsee, mo-
iMlft jsaKiea, eounige, linnness, and pure pa-
liUMiB, iar wluch we may seek in vain in the
•Wds of our own or any other country." — J. H.
^Bsaew^.
"I am reaolvad to tell pfainli/ and kaneMtip
*tal JiAijiir, quite regardless of the odium I may
hnvfrom those whose prejudices my candour
■iifneerity may oflknd. I am here to spenk the
fclfli, mtd not to flatter the prejudices and pre-
IHMMioDa of any one." — JHikf of Ueltin^ton.
"I^ the world were govenieif by principlei,
■inig would be more easy than to conduct wen
ii giMleat aflkira ; bat if* atl cirrumitameei the
A% af a wiaa nan is to cAoom; the Ie»$er of any
tmd^jfleuiiita which beset him."— i>wJle qf U'el.
*The man is gone, who seemed so fn^at, —
Oona, but nothing can bereave liim
Of the totee he made his own
BaiBg here, and we believe here
SoBMhaBC fiur advanced in state,
And that ha wean a truer crown
■tanr wreath man can weave him.
Bitt speak xut more of his renown,
Lay Toor earthly fancies down,
kmim the vast eattksdral leave htm.
ftod Mcept bkax, Christ receive him."
Tennyson.
Gbiat mea an i«re. Deputed, as it
vm^ bj Um QmnipoteDt, to develop some
Mt thnry or principle, to achieve some
■i|bij or atapcadoiii pvoject, or to be the
^tKnnn «f tbair coonfay in the time of peril,
^ are, £ortiiiiate)jf readj when necessity
^ Sat laperhBman auistance. On the
*^ hand, aa if to dJreniff human Jiatare^
and to exhibit a diasimilaritj between ihem
and those of common or mediocre grade,
thej are invariably endowed with some bright
qualities, which tend in a great measure to
elevate them above mankind generally. Bat
the frequent observer cannot but be struck
with this fact — that, in proportion as great
men become pre-eminently distinguished bj
their moral excellencies and social statnSy
they are certain to have enemies and de-
sptsers, whose dislike to them will exactly
correspond with the favour and high pontion
which such patriots may obtain. No sooner
are such men as Wellington laid in the dnat,
than past offences, errors, and opinions are
rooted up, commented upon, and exposed to
the greatest indignities. The blightbg
effects of such a man's faults on his cha-
racter are soon invMtigated and prominently
set forth by his enemies, and whilst they are
unsparingly exposed to the lash of condem-
nation and keen criticism, his better, brighter,
and more pleasin^r traits of character — bU
virtues, his mental powers, and his noble
achievements — are passed over unnientioned;
and, instead of candidly acknowledging that
these mitigate, or entirely expiate, his fanlts,
they are stealthily, and apparently wickedly,
concealed from view, as if to show posterity
the more effectually what a hardened and
morose villain such a man had been! These
pseudo- biographers take good care that they
will so transform the character of *'good
men and true" that
"The evil such men do" shall " live after them,"
and that any good they may have done
" ShaU be hitened with their bones."
Rut no; truth shall be triumpkantf and give
the lie to slander; for
" So/ahehood can endure
Touch of celesdmIL xmoycT ,
But reium oC totoe U» ixa o^roLV^wf^***^*
104
IS THIS CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF WEIXnrOTOir
The fable of the "Old llan and his Ass"
would not be an inappropriate illustration in
the present case. The poor old Duke en-
deavoured to carry out practically and zea-
lously the injunction of Nelj^on, " To do his
duty;" but, in spite of all his efforts to ac-
complish all that could be and was expected
of him, it appears he failed, for he has not
succeeded in pleasing our fastidious friend,
"Aristides." For my own part, I am glad
that he was satisfied with the whispers of
an approving conscience, endorsed with and
by the approbation of his Queen, his country,
and the major part of the states of Europe.
To quote extracts illustrative of his cha-
racter would exhaust the limits of this
article: the testimony of those who knew
him, and a few anecdotes, must supply the
place which a good-sized volume would alone
effectually succeed in recording — a record of
hia life.
We cannot attempt to give anything like
a sketch of the Duke's character; but we
must remark upon "Aristides,** who turns
from the *' consideration " of it with regret.
It would have been more reasonable, had he
stated that he *' turned from the considera-
tion** of that avowal with regret. Many
instances there are illustrative of the moral
character of the Duke, and his kind regard
both for relatives and strangers. On taking
possession of Strathfieldsaye he made the
remark (alluding to the barrenness and ste-
rility of the soil), that ^^any person less
wealthy than himself would have been ruined
by it.'* Before the land could be rendered
fertile we find that it entailed immense ex-
pense; and, referring to this fact, the Duke
said, ** that he did not consider himself en-
titled to lay by one shilling of the rental of
Strathfieldsaye.** " I am a rich man," said
he; "my son is not so; therefore he shall
receive his patrimony in the very best con-
dition to which I can bring it.** It is said
of the estate, " that, go where you would ;
go far or near, you would nowhere see a body
of tenantry better lodged, better famished
with ofiices, better supplied with all manner
of conveniences for the prosecution of their
calling, than those which coll the Duke of
Wellington their landlord.*'
H'lB charity and benevolence, always un-
obtrusivCf was most gratifym^. Otvc or two
JDstanceBf selected from tbe maivy, V\\\ ^wX- \ % ^^^ %xv«t\vA!f ^t ^h* Dok* sad hb «»»
£ce. WiieD, us Colonel \Ve\\es\cy , V (\\i\U^^\\ «\^'ts\, %o'a^'^\w\A>9i^\«c^M»cu
India, he adopted the son of the hostile bn-
gand, Downdin Waugh, and left £700 &r
the boy's benefit
There are numerous ezamplea of his pn»
viding liberally for those who bad soffend
through misfortune, and of his pladng then
in a respectable position in society. One
young married man, who bad been nn£iita-
nate, applied to him for a situation as btr-
rack-master in Canada. Being untUe t»
provide his outfit, the Duke famished it,
provided him with other necessaries, pod
his passage for him, as well as for his irifi»
and family, and gave him a handsome mi
of money. The young man died before bii
arrival at his destined place. His disooaaH
late widow returned home, sought an inter-
view with the Duke, related her unhspff
case, and withdrew. The Dnke next daf
sent for her, established her in a respcdiblt
house and school, carefully attended to kr
wants, and recommended the school of tki
widow referred to.* His biographer un,
" he loved to do good by stealth, and did
not care to find it fame.'* Hia geoeno^
caused him to be victimized occasionallr lif
misrepresentation; bnt he rather jtrtftrrei
being swindltd to magnifying the importSKBt
of his bounty by too minutt an inqviry imo
the justice of the application, Xor was tk*
Duke's charity confined to his "pecnnitff
largesse.** He employed it in its largest ad
noblest sense — "to cover a multitude rf
sins.** "He reproved gently and
fulfyy endeavoured to jind excuses for (k
erring, and never allowed himself to repid
the evil tpords which found curreticy st At
expense of others, hock at his detipatekl
and orders; the name of every man 'uhm
the Dnke found occasion to praise is gitf^
at flit Ungth; the name of every object^
reprehension is care/11% eone^kd fn«
public view. Was not this lofty, magntB-
mous, the highest effort of the noblest cha-
rity?"—"In the diapotal of his patnn^
the Duke was jnst; and, mors than tl^
recommended justice to others. There ml
scarcely an ofiScer who served under IdBi
and remained in the army long enough to W
eligible for responsible command, who did
not secure some token of the Doks's appiv-
bation. They wers either appointed coloiiii*
WORTHT OF ADIORATIOH ?
105^
of regiments, or oommanders of diBtrioto,
diTisioDs, and branches of the army in India,
or good serrioe pensions were granted them.
If offioera and soldiers did well, who so ready
to land them in the Honse of Lords as the
Dake, making amends bj the warmth of his
oommendattons as a peer for the breritj of
his approbation as a general in the field?
If ill, or erring from misconception, who so
prompt to vindicate them to their country?**
Not odIj was he a munificent supporter of
charities in and about London, but he fre-
qnently held some office in them. Debts
were no sooner contracted than discharged.
He was temperate, sober, regular in his
hibits, and punctual in the exercise of his
religious duties. The frequent announce-
ment m the CouH Circufar that ** the Duke
of Wellington attended «ar^ (seven o'clock)
morning service in the Private or Rojil
Chapel, St James's,** will be familiar to my
readers. He always evinced a laudable
anxiety that the soldiery should have the
usistuice of chaplains of orthodox principles
and exemphuT- conduct. To conclude this
head, these instances will suffice to illustrate
his moral, social, and domestic character;
but, to understand him still further, recourse
must be had to the numerous works which
contain anecdotes illustrative of his every-
day transactions, and which " Aristides" has
80 carefully avoided ooticang. It is to be
hoped, however, that the above will be suf-
ficient to convince the reader of the false-
hoods contained in the negative articles, of
the true character of the source whence that
information is derived, and of the ommtM
which ''Aristides" entertains in his own
mmd towards " the Duke." Before I dismiss
the subject, let me give htm a little advice,
which will, probably, prove beneficial to him
when he criticizes the characters of notable
individual in future, viz., to dismiss all pre-
judice and foretaken opinions from his mind ;
to read with impartiality all the etfidence
OQ the question ; and, when summing up their
characters, let him not, in the antipathy
and disgust which he may justly entertain
for their oioea, forget to enumerate some of
their virtues; for it is, fortunately, the com-
mon lot of humanity, that, whilst possessing
a share of the reprehensible, they are also
gifted with those parts of character which
aftentiroes more than connterbaUnoe their
•ril dispositions and bad habits.
The political life and character of the
Duke is certainly the most disconnging and
lamentable part of it Being from birth
connected with the aristocracy, he held their
prejudices and opinions with a tenacity
which was only equalled by the zealous and
penevering manner in which he carried them
into efiect His determined and headstrong
opposition to the three great measures ^
reform referred to by *'ArisUdes," until im-
pelled by necessity to assist in passing them,
is a striking illustration of the school iir
which he received his political fdncation.
That he acted firom disinterested and purely
conscientious motives, however, admits of no
doubt, despite the severity with which
*'Aristides*' assails him. ffis opposition ta
the Roman Catholic emancipation bill was
not on account of his religions belief, for
bigotry formed no part of his character. His
own words explain his views: — ^*'He con-
sidered the question (he said) merely one of
expediency, and he grounded his opposition
to the measure not on any doctrmat points,
but on the church government of the Boman
Catholics. Kobody could have witnessed
the transactions which had been going on
in Ireland during the (then) last thirty-fivo
yean without being convinced that there
was a combination between the laity and the
clergy, which was daily gaining ground. . . .
He wiahed to tee real distinct securities
proposed before he could consent to give
any vote in favour of those claims,** &c. &c.
On the corn laws he said: — "They worked
well, and he was convinced they could not
be repealed without mjmy to the country J*
This shows that his opiniofis were regulated
and modified by circumstances — ^to be easily
abandoned if circumstances required a change
in the law. It was not that he had no sym-
pathy with the sufferings of the people that
he opposed them, for he says : — ^ If he (Lord
Stanhope) supposes that I do not feel for the
distresses of the people, he is utterly mis-
taken, as I can sincerely avow that I have
as strong sympathy on this subject as any
noble member of this house.** He did not,
as many suppose, and as " Aristidea" would
probably have us to infer, oppose the eman-
cipation bill from a hatred of the Bomisb
creed, but from other and secondary causes.
This remark applies also to the other great
bills referred to. The Duke always enter-
tained serious apprehensions that any altera-
106
IS THE CHARACTBR OF THE DUKC OF WELUNOTOST
tioQ in the Uwi iroald mainiaUj afiect, end
probably isjnre, Uie interasti and peoaperity
of the kingdom at laige; bat when be saw
that diaaBtrons xcaaka were likely to iollov
nnleae certain renedial measures and altera-
tions were pn^Nwed and carried into effect,
he aacrifiord lua oonTictiona, however dear,
and, f<vgetting what might be a vioUtim of
his principles and foelings, cheerfolly assisted
in canying oat any measuie calcalated to
promote the general welfare. He alwAfs
acted as a disinterested party, and there is
bat one impression whkh is irresistibly con-
veyed to the mind of the reader of his life,
viz., his earnest devotedness to his conntry—
that he wonld sacrifice his life, and all
that he possessed, if it woald be saoceesfnl
in oontzibating to the pablic good; and the
Ust prose extract whKh heads this paper
explains in a great measore the policy
which he ever parsned In his legidative
capacity.
Here a cbaige of inconsistency is bronght
against him in the article of '^Aii«tides.'*
He says, "His (the Dnke^s) poaiUon had
not betm such aa to develop those nobkr
traitt (of staUtmangbip), He had imbibed
the priftbdioeM of his ciu* ; and, accostomed
to command, when called to the l^islatare,
he could not imdo the habits of a Ufef " and
then, after thus, as it were, making mention
of an Apologetic reason for the mal-legiala-
tion of the Doke, he places the most illiberal,
selfish, and narrDw-mioded constraction on
all his acts. The £slsity of this will be
evident to those who give the Dake's life
and speeches an impartial consideration.
One of the most atrocioas, and certainly the
most nntroe, accasaiions made by '* Aristides "
is, that he legidaied iat edf. On the con-
trary, we find the Doke, both by speech and
actions, declaring his love for his oonntry,
and his earnest wish to serve it by all the
means in his power. The reply (^ EndUa
to lago^ in Shakspeares "Othello," woald
not be inapplicable to "Aristides" on this
head. I by no means i4)prove of the Doke s
l^slative acts; bat I have shown, and
would, if space pennitted, show still farther,
that the Bakers single «im wte the advance-
ment of his country's good ; and alihoogh
in the opinion of myself, and probably of
the great majority of the world, he adopted
a most extsaordinary conrse to achieve his
ol^eot, yet that is no proof whatever that he
waanot sinoere when expccssiBg fab desire to
serve his eovenign.
I might notice ether strietBns eeotaiiied
in " Aristides' " papers, bat space lirtids.
Posterity will, doabtkas, eenfirm in a gnat
measure the opinions eofeertatned at the pm-
seot day by the adsoiicrs of WisQiagtaB.
That then will be any ^nactifln" in tbe
landatioasof the "depsjrted Duke" is doobu
fol; nay, it is moro probaUe that a **]»-
action" will take place in the opiniais held
by ''Aiistides" and his friends. A littib
men impartial and disinterested resesrek
may witness the cooveruon of that genHs-
man, hopeless as the case now appeani
The Doke s nnvrise proceedings sgsiart
the press was somewhat jastified. Sto^Mler
says, ** The information which it (the pnsi)
conveyed to the public daring the PeainsDiir
war, although of the deepest interest to die
British commoniify, was offiDoaive to iuBf
beoanse the raeie ta/bnnafMii reached tk
eaemy, wohom it was of mporitmee to fa^
m t^norofice of the operallone of the fefiU
anny, and the digpotkiom of the troopt.
Moroover, the pvass libelled him withont
mercy, giving poblicaiion to the grosMrt
falsehoods, and assigning the went motiveB
to those sets which proved to be the resslt
of the most ooosammnte jadgneot, the mest
pra&mnd forathoight, and the paiest psr
triotism. But he took no ste|is to pncan
the puaishmeot of the libeUera." ....
*' Whether yielding to the advice of his eol-
leagaea,or acting on his own apoBtaosoni
will, the Dnke ceased Hr. Alexander, the
editor of the Mommg Jowrmd^ to be pnss-
cuted for his libels, and the reenlt was tbe
pnnishmentof that gentleman with fines sod
impriaenment." It can acareely be urged
that no steps should he taken in the sap-
pressisa of such IduI ealomaies, althoagb,
perhaps, silent contempt wonld have ben
the beat rebuff to such charges as the fiie-
S*iBg.
Whatever may be the UemisheB ea tbt
chaaeter of the Duke of Wefirngton, thcf
an of ao trivial a natore that tiny will do
little towaida tarnishing that icpntstiM
which he ao josUy merited and ebtsised.
Thoee who an canveEBsnt with his Ustflfv
cannot but admit that the Itoes addresied t0
Gonaidvo di Cenlovn, the Spaaosh ]>stfirfpe
of Wellingtso, an equally apfdicable to oar
I hero: —
wfimuii or Asmnuamn?
107
As he had lived, his coontiT'i boast and pride.
Warrior, who with patient toil.
Scant and rrhiirted legioas tanght to ftfl
SkilJ, fakmr, aandNfa. One wk0 mtver •99§kt
A 9^fi$k flar^ from the 4c/ds Ae Jmtght-^
Lived, hnathed, mnd/tJt but /or his cowUrif't
HsrpotMrto
The dread of
dread."
, and ha
toheal;
waa moat the
"He wtdeMedbf bad liiHBgs, in commoB
with lSb» Kst of mankxiid; bat tbef irtm
almost kat to ordiiuuy peroeption m tb«
pnaencd of tho mmwroits Tiitues which
adonied bis existenoe, and whidi, more than
hia fDceeasea, niaed biai to the unezimpled
pi^fr-cniiiienoe be enjoyed for netrij half a
oeeiiify'
la eoDcInsion: — ^If tbere be anj aspirants
to fiune anoDgBt the readers of this ma^-
2iae ivbo are desiroas to possess eceentric
and Kmited notions and opiuoos of what
shoBldwin our ** admiratioii,'' and are also
disposed to beeome posseooed of that ganfe
l^wbkfa ^'Aristides'' measores and deter-
nunes bow far a man is right, and to what
extent he should go, in the toottne of bis
dailj tnEnsaetisBS; if tbej are at all inelmed
to acquire a fivtidaoos taate for appreetating
character, I would reipeetfiUlj refer diem to
'*Aristides,'» as be will, doibtless, be fb^
eompetent to gift them complete iastmo-
tioos. I will not, bowerer, fail io warn
them that, if tbej fblfew the ad^oe of that
gentleman, or BMuld their judgments ia
aeoordanee with that which has dictated the
two aiticles from his pen, the/ will be aa
snn to meet with disappoiatment, in propor-
tion as it woold be difBcolt to present a cha-
racter whieb wonM win the ''admimtioa" of
all persons; for, although a man maj do his
utmost to disehaige his duty, to himself, to
his God, and to o&en, so he is as certain to
hare dissentients, who will condemn or find
some &nlt with tiie coarse he has panned.
The Duke of Welfiogton is one of that
bright band of whom it may jnstlj be said—
" Sndi souls are rare ; and mightj patterns frivon
To earth; and meaut for omamenU to heaven."
J. G.B.
NEGATITE ARTICLE.— HI.
KoTBUio is so osmmos as for £ng4irii-
BMD to think weH of the dead ; none speak so
kndly the praise of him who has passed to
The tmdiscoTered eonntryf ftom whose voum
No tomvelkr Tetania,"
or BO «Dthnsia8tically Tiodicato the character
^ the departed from slanderoos aspereions.
We rejoioe in the name and national cba>
acteristics of Engfisbmen. Wo gibry in the
WDie of Wellington, and for bis good works
i^ice to gtfo bin the utmost praise which
1^ most ardent admirers could deeire; but
^ are fend of IbnniBg a rational and christian
citnnate of all things submitted toourjudg*
Bent. Our Tiew of the conduct of the late
l^oke in bis public capacity is, that he acted
^11 his part as a penmi sworn to a certain
^vtj; but this is a difierent qnestion to that
Mw under diseussioo, therefore we beg to be
^^ooented from the cfaaige of blaming the
lite Doke, as nc^ng is farther from our
'iilcntian. We are particniariy desiroas to
obtain a just estimaite ef his character, and
b> assist otben in obtaining it
Whsi ia character? When wo speak of
the sflliditj, iomiobilitj, and extension of a
m>ic«l body, we understand by these terms
some necesBaiy property of that body; but
if ooloar, smoothness, and hardness be meo*
tioned, we know that qualities of an acci-
dental nature are implied. Just so in tfao
moral andintellectualnature of man. Thought,
will, desire, &e., are necessary oonditioas ei
his existence; tbey are properties of his na-
ture; but wbetber these powera are good or
bad, proper or improper, is of a contingent
nature; henoe we inftr that the quality of a
man*s motxTos — Che quality of these cansea
which deteimine his choice of the good or
bad in the oondact of his fifo^is the only
true index of his ebaneter; in other words,
character is the moral quality of a person's
conduct in relation to the motires from whieb
that condoct springs.
We find In the kmtvry of the late Duke
that he entered the military prefesaiott merely
because it was, in the common parianoe «r
fashionable life, an konumrMe profession;
and, being of the ye>nngest branch of an
honemrable house, this profession was an
htmourabie means of obtaining the homomrg
and good things of this life. Ko connden-
tion of the propriety or impropriety of any
duty imposed upon the soldier by his superior
106
m TRB CHABACTXB OF WBLLDTOTOK WOBmT OF ADSIIRA.TI09 ?
JB «yer allowed to him ; he U sworn to obej
his superior in all things without hesitation;
his moral sction, in all its most important
particnlan, is bartered for an honourable
profession, and he becomes a mere animal
machine, for the purpose of performiDg the
operation of phlebotomy upon patients nick-
named enemies, setting fire to gunpowder in
A long iron tube, or stopping a flying bullet
with his own head>— a profoundly wise em-
ployment for a learned and intelligent man!
Surely he who excels most in the army, that
TBSt association of non-Tduntaiy animal
machines, must really be worthy of the
admiration of all Bedlam ! But seriously,
my friend. As a soldier, the late Duke, on
entering the military profession, resigned his
power of moral choice in any of his profes-
sional conduct; the motiyes to action, the
moTing causes determining his conduct,
were owned and exercised by another, to
whom he had sworn military fealty, and to
him rightly belongs the admiration or con-
demnation which necessarily arises from the
character formed from those motiTes. Let
us look a little into the signification of the
term admiration. If any physical object is
submitted to the human mind possessmg a
quality which is generally recognised as
being uncommon — ^for instance, as being un-
usuiUly great or small, strong or weak — it
excites in us wonder or surprise; but if, in
addition to this quality of newness or un-
usuality, it isigood, it produces in us a com-
bination of wonder and lore, which we call
admiration; hence intellectual and moral
goodness, or their effects, are necessary ad-
ditions to the quality of novelty, rightly to
produce admiration in an intelligent moral
being, such as man. Were intellectual and
moral goodness and greatness in an extra-
ordinary degree possened by the late Duke?
We say, No; and we fearlessly appeal to the
flatteringly garbled history of his life and
times in proof of our position.
History and the opinions of the panegyrists
of the late Duke demonstrate with absolute
certainty the fact, that his great first motive
was duty to his king; this duty consisted in
implicit obedience to his orders, and in the
execution of these orders it was no con-
nderation of his whether they were mondly
right or wrong, nor what might be the cost
of property or life thereby : his duty was to
ob^.
But we have observed that the late Duke
became a soldier because it was an hooour-
able professioQ — that in doing so he bartered
his moral freedom in all points affected by
the duties of that professsou ; hence his chief
motive, that of obtaining a fiuhionably re-
spectable position in society, renders his
character unworthy of our admiration; and
his oath of military fidelity, as it t^es amy
the power of choosing between obedience to
orders, morally good or bad, makes his
strict regard to military duty — the secondary
motive of his life-action — ^a strong resson
why we should not admire his character.
A kindred view may be taken of the cbs-
racter of the late Duke by rightly consider-
ing the position in which he was placed, tlie
ciroumstances by which he was surrounded,
and the object he sought to obtain. Hi»
position was peculiar to his time; he rose
into life when full play might be given to
the belligerent propensities of poor human
nature. On entering the military serrioe,
by means of family and political in^?»«w*fe
he was elevated to various posts of romnnTwi
in the army. In such positions he had
many opportunities of obtaining enlarged
experience in militaiy matters of erery con-
ceivable character. The numerous battles
caused by the envious and unquiet dispo-
sitions of the various mouarchifis and powen
of Europe had created a vast association of
hardy veterans, practised in the dreadfal
work of rapine and bloodshedding. These
men valued their own lives as little as those
of their enemies; and, by the united efiect of
the cool 4)termination of the English, the
fiery ardour and impetuosity of the Irish,
and the calculating precaution and hsrdy
endurance of the Swtch, the late Duke had
at all times under Ms command the meaoa
of executing the most hairbrained snd ex*
travagant schemes ever conceived with t
certainty of success never before knovo;
besides, to him the matter was of the greatest
personal importance, because defeat rendered
him liable to the worst humiiiataoD — that
of public trial, condemnation, degndatioD,
and probable exile. Under these drcom-
stances we are not surprised to see £ir
greater numbere in the returns of the killoi
and wounded* than were suifered by our
* At the Msault of Ciodad Bodngo, *'^
oaaoaltiea on both sides were yttj grett. The
OV6HT TH8 GBAUT TO XATVOOTH tO BB WITHDBAWN ?
109
enemies. While we acbiered the victory by
a human holocauat to the demon of war, they
suffered the defeat with only a portion of oar
woe. We wonld say, give ns defeat rather
than Tictory, when the battle arises from
«ich base and nnworthy motives as indi-
vidual honour^ the upholding of a par-
ticular dynasty, and the suppression of po-
puUr advancement in the choice of govern-
ments.
Beference need not be made to the poli-
tical character of the late Duke ; this is patent
to all, and respected only by a few mediaeval
peisonages, who boast of the good old times
allies lost 178 men killed, and 835 wonnded."
"'In the horrible aicKe of Badajoz the losses on
both sides were tremendous: the English and
Portuguese had, of killed and wounded, 4«678,
while the French casualties were about 1,200;"
and, remark, this is our account of the matter;
the Frsneh aoooimt would make it appear still
worse fbr oa. The aame writer observes, ** The
^Ilautry ofthe vieturious soldiers was outweighed,
howeTer, by the excesses committed by them on
the two next days, which (to quote the words of
Napior) were given up to the wild and desperate
inckedness wmch taniishea the lustre of the sol-
dier's heroism. Shameless rapacity, brutal in-
temperance, savage lust, cruelty, and murder—
ahrieks and piteous lamentations, groans, shouts,
imprecations, the hissing of fires bursting fimn
the houses, the crashing of doors and windows,
and the reports of muskets used in violence,
resounded for two days and two nights in the
streets of Badi^oz." And who permitted this, do
joa ask 7 We answer, the general commanding,
and whose character some would wish us to ad-
mirv.^See " Wellington, the Story qf Ma Life,'*
Ac, by A. B. Cooke.
of " merrie Engknd." With such we have no
sympathy. They look ezclasively to the
past as containing the summum honum in
social, political, and religions life. We de-
light* to select the good of the past and the
present, and with ^th form our future and
the future of England. The maxims of
those individuals to whom we have referred
are~-conserve, stand fast, be immovable, be
narrow in intellect, stunted in morals, ex-
clusive in religion; and of this class was the
late Duke — an honourable specimen, truly,
but a specimen none the less. Our hope,
and the hope of the yonth of England, u in
progress; not anarchical turmoil and con-
fusion— not the overturning of states and
the uprooting of society; but a peaceable,
intelligent, christian, and loving progress of
men, of every name and of every clime : and
while we, with Franklin, say, " God helps
him who helps himself" in the work of civili-
sation, we would lend the helping hand to
all who are desirous to join under the banner
inscribed—" Progress !— Onward !— Excel-
sior T
In conclusion, we desire that the laurel
wreath of /Vime, and the praise of a rational
and enlightened christian people, may be given,
not to the man who has sUun his tens of
thousands and injured millions, but to the
men who, like Birkbeck, Newton, and Mil-
ton, have sought to elevate their species, and
fit them for pure enjoyment here and here-
after. L'OUVBIKE.
^nlitiia.
OUGHT THE GRANT TO MAYNOOTH TO BE WITHDRAWN ?
NEGATIVE ABTICLE.— III.
A GBuacR EsTABLXSBUENT.— ^'The single
vnd we ought to propose by it is the preserva-
tion and oommnnicatfon of reli|i^ous knowledge.
£very other idea and every other end that have
heeu mixed with tiiis — as, the making of the
church an enginef or even an ally of the itate ;
converting it mto the means of strengthening or
difiViMng influence, or regarding it as a snppoTter
of r^al, in opposition to popular, forma of larovem-
ment— have served only to debase the institution,
and to introduce into it numerous corruptions
and abasea.'*>-PALSr.
Of all the multitudinous topics and themes
of dispute upon which men are at logger-
heads, I question whether one could be
adduced, other than that now before me, in
which I could so easily and consistently join
the opposite side. What these are the reader
will gather in due course; but of all the
great questions which have of Ute agitated
the political and religious world, there has
been none so unfortunately productive of ill
feeling, rancour, and animosity — so adverse
to that social union which should unite all
tlic cliirrrrul cuD^t'iit of ull ponii'S, and ni: hcll'-cuntnuJiclioD, jun tuJ
riwold h«ra tb* gntifiMlkm of congntD- , *t*p to«anl« Mnvindng lu
Utingcich other <n tin ibMSMof that ill dU^nnti* tha^alcmMir
bdiogwhicL it dowk pnrmhnt, sidvluchl whcD adTooliiig tbc irithdi
ii ntlrding lL< eonclniion of tha lUjoooth on th« Kroniidi of tho itSf
coDtrDTenij. UijoaotlL Thsj gira na
Bnt hmr can it be otherwuc? We Ire! of delHtslicn tad abbdm
ioyariiibly im[ielled on this topic, con- j Tiolent teinu, Mid Ibej d
nected u it is villi nlieiotia ni*tt«n, to Dounca >nj fuitber •itv
look up to our bntbim of (he pulpt, and to wbicb nippoRi a ijatan i
ucertaJD from Ihem bow ire ibonld Durwkea li thit, tben, lbs matt rail
sot. It is onlj natnril that ve iboiild do ponued in order Id ter
■o, and bj their conduct shape our Dim i Don it not ratbs- tend to i
GOnne. We know that Ihej an not imms- ' more aniions tor hii cree
enlatt, or less eipneed tbin nuHlTca to i to Ibe grant, and mora at
iaconitant feelings and tarbolent paialoiu; teatantaf b not retajiat
bat ire do expect that tbej blionld rcgnlalc I niiuion, the eSect pndni
their livn and Hntimcnla bj tlinse Una ! not minifeit a aincerer, h<
which Cbriat laid down for onr " rule and | doficed deteimiaation to m
goremance.'* Upon tbia principla we maj of his fbnbtben, becanac
remailc on their ixindact in reference lo tlia tailed and da«i»*ed? And
tnatler before na. Deeplj iait to ber^ntted ptcciwlj the our with an
that gentlemen, whose prirata cbanctera for that, when uiailed in naj
Tirtne, charitj, Jcc, are unimpcacbable, menta which Ihej maj ai
when apeaking on the queatico of Uaynoutb, come more reaolTed to enle
ahoiJd eihiUt all the animoait^ and pr^a- and cheriibed opiniona in
dice with which Roman Calbolica are so abase laTithed apoD them
OVOm TBB GRAHT TO aCATirCM3TR TO BB WITHDBAW?
Ill
thef mmld had no meani been taken to pro-
me its withdrawal; eoBsequently, their op-
ponents an frastratng the yty object which
they sriieesfy thought they were promoting.
Bat to examine the qnestion from other
points of view. There is either great blind-
nesB or iBeonustcBey in those who advocate
the withdrswal of the grant on religions
groonds only. There are those who cannot
sdopt the prmdpk of the repeal of cdl
grants from motiTes of ''expediency" or
"conrenienoe;" say who, ''yoa mnst repeal
agrsnt whicfa is espedally devoted to the
maintenanee and in»tmction of a body of
yoong priests who are educated in a religion
^di is antagonistic to truth, justice, rea-
son, to the Qneen, to the Bible, and to onr
^Mout Protestant eonetttutum. They can-
not be sincere Catholics without being ene-
mies to onr faith, to onr laws, and to onr-
sdres." But those gentlemen who argue in
this manner cannot see that there is a prin-
ciple involyed in the whole question, or if
they csn won't sa^ so, because it would not
be "couTeirient.'' Like the Pharisees of old,
they " strsin at a gnat and swallow a camel."
Sundry bishops and others, the clergy of the
EstabHriied Cfanreh, know that their large
stipends and dignities would be in danger of
bemg iwroked, and they being p1ac«l on
smaller pay, with less power, more to do,
snd less to enjoy, if they sanctioned the
principle that all religious dsaanUnations
Bhould depend upon their own flocks for
their " sappiiSes.** This is no idle fancy or
" idmntem of the mind.* A reference to the
clerical Kst will show that there is a family
coniieaion, or association, throughout the
dmreh, and that ntuations are not so much
wnght from mottres of holy seal and piety
as from the expeetotion of reeeiving large
inooBies, and of enjoying a oorrespxiding
ntio ef derical power.
As I have heretofore stated, the question
of the morality or immorality of the Romish
nfigion is altogether foreign to the considera-
tion of omr topic There is more (w less
OTor in aH rdigions, sod it is most un-
generous, and deddedl J unfair, to clamour
for the repeal on this ground only. The
eodowmeot of any particular religion by
government ahnost amonnto to a declaration
that such religion is purer than the rest;
and thus the unendowed, who have all an
equal right to be simihu'ly treated, are left
UBcared for; hence enmity and religious
asperity is provoked and engendered against
their more fortunate, but not more deserv-
ing, neighbours. The iact is, that any reli-
gions body, when endowed by the state, is
always certain to give dissatisfaction in
some quarter, and this diffieuUy cannot be
olfmated tUl aH state aid is repealed. The
crusade against the Maynooth grant is, little
as its opponents may suppose, involved in,
and allied with, the momentous question of
the separation of chnreh and state; and the
more this question is discussed will it be
seen, that if the grant to Maynooth is to be
withdrawn, that on the same grounds, and
in order to obviate the complaints of the
Roman Catholics, the Established Chureh
must be placed on the same footing. It is
of no avail to plead that it is a national
church, and, consequently, must be suppcnted
by the nation at large; fbr, were thus objec-
tion valid, the Roman Catholic religion ought
to be supported in Irdand, with the same
honoun and dignities as those allowed to
the Chureh of England here. If, therefore,
Maynooth is not to receive her usual grant
of money, whilst the Established Chureh is
still in the receipt of her usual revenue, the
question will again arise — How can you rea-
sonably continue to endow the Church of
England with funds to which all reCgions
sects have contributed, and exclude other
denominations from a participation in the
same benefits, to which they have an equal
and as just a claim? Until this question
is satisfactorily explained, I, for one, would
never be a party to tly repeal of the grant
Lest, however, any of my readers should
suppose that I have any syitapathy with the
Romish system, I would assure them, on
the contrary, that my detestation of it i^
extreme, and that there are no peaceable
and legitimate means which I would not use
in order to achieve its final extirpation.
I will, for the present, adjourn the coa-
nderatiott of this subject, reserving for a
future occasion the further exposit&m of my
sentiments, when I shall, in dpe course,
bring other facts and arguments to bear
upon it. There are several phases in which
it can be very properly studied, but that of
paramount importance is ito relation to the
endowment of the Church of England. There
is not, and cannot be, any separate argument
for the maintenance of either creeds by
ririugt H to the wfetj of tliu Chun
Engluid, if separated from the atal
aeonint of ths iocrauing MsniapCJODa
itmigth of tbe Church of Bonw, I i
•higper one word nf cncoungemeDt. Ag
that nlitle and stealUij foe there is a si
thoDgh eSeclnul wid efficacious, rei
irliich all (lie eSbrts of the popedom c
avert or neutraliie, if energetically ci
oat. Edacation is the antidote to, at
aa the ■ntageniat of, Poperj. There
taaaj which that charcb fcan
trbich ita coadjatora eatertaii
AFFIRM A'
Ik mj opening afRnnatiire ai
•bowB that the grant lo Maynoc
be withdrawn, becanae it is contrary
nattire of the chrisSau religion, to r
and to rerelation. I now proceed to
tmni the uatun of the instilulion ita
it is not righllj within the sphere
legiaiatnre to make the grant. Mi
ia a religious iailitation, and that lu
nrdinarr ehicacter: it is not denic
OUOHT THB OBAirr TO MATVOOTH TO BE WTTHDItAWir?
113
from heaTen? Bj what anthoritj do our
l^isUtora prerame to take the responaibilitj
of proTidisg the meaoB of religions instmc-
tioo of any kind or character? If they as-
sume the power, I, as a Christian, certainly
bare the hght to ask for their credentials;
it is my doty to examine their pretensions to
aathentidty — to demand when, how, where,
and to whom they were giren, and by what
means tbey came into their possession. Mean-
while the onus prdbandi is with them; bnt
I deny their arrogant assumptions of power
to interfere in re%ious matters. As, there-
fore, Maynooth College is a religions institn-
tion, in the strictest sense of Uie term, and
as the legislature has power only in civil and
criminal matters, the grant ought to be with-
drawn, having been made without due
authority.
It may be said that the consUtntion of this
country provides for the establishment and
mamtcmance of a form of religion; true, but
the constitution is only a compact agreed
upon by the contracting parties in the state,
viz., king, lords, and people, specifying the
form or order la which the affairs of the na-
tion shall be conducted: and this, like all
other human productions, may be a mixture
of truth and error ; therefore a law is not
necessarily true and right because it it a
part of the constitution. The question now
under discussion is simply this — According
to the principles of truth and justice, ought
the grant -to Maynooth to be withdrawn?
I answer, Yes ; for every Christian is re-
quired, by the nature of his holy religion, to
affirm, at all risks, " I was not made to
take law in spiritual things from any power
less than divine — ^to think, or believe, or
speak, or do, becanse bidden thereto by
pastor, priest, or king. To me revelation
addresses its solemn message, asks my judg-
ment, claims m|^ acquiescence. It is my pre-
rogative to transact all business with heaven
in my own person, and on my own account.
To choose is mine, as mine will be the con-
sequences of the choice." * And if the grace
of God is rightly received by a man, he will
never think of asking for pecuniary assistance
from his neighbour to propagate and per-
petuate his religion in the world.
But, for the mere sake of argument, the
* " Workings of WilUnghood;' by £. Miall,
I
point may be conceded, that the provision for
religions instruction by the state is expedient.
This does not favour the negative of the
question, for, as Pofty, the champion of state
churches and endowments, truly observes
(p. 429 of his " Moral and PoUtical Philoso-
phy"), " A religious establishment is no part
of Christianity ; it is only the means of in-
culcating it." At page 430 he says : — " The
making of the church an engine or even an
aUy of the state ; converting it into the means
of strengthening or of diffusing influence; or
regarding it as a support of regal, in opposi-
tion to popular, forms of government, have
served only to debase the institution, and to
introduce into it numerous corruptions and
abuses." Again he says : — " If the provi-
sion which the law assigns to the support of
religion be extended to various sects (md de-
nominations of Christians, there exists no
national religion or established church, ac-
cording to the sense which these terms are
usually made to convey." If the state, there-
fore, is to snpport religion, and provide reli-
gions instruction for the people, it appears
more reasonable that that religion should be
uniform and according to the views enter-
tained by the greatest portion of the people ;
under such an arrangement there could never
be presented to the world such a striking
anomaly in Protestantism as the establi^menf
with miserable endowments — ^to the Presby-
terians and Papists in England and Ireland
— ^the Piesbytery in Scotland — Romanism,
Bndhism, and Hindooism in the colonies.
From the foregoing observations it is evi-
dent that in purely religious matters legis-
lation is an evil; but when the religious
professor, or any number of religious pro-
fessors, commit any breach of pablic decency
and order, they are brought within the pre-
scribed limits of the civil law — that is, in
the words of Blackstone, they are within
" the rules of civil conduct prescribed by the
supreme power in the state." On these
grounds I affirm the legislature ought to
withdraw the grant from Maynooth. Far
be it from me to lay it to the charge of the
conscientious Roman Catholic, who in private
life seeks practically to develop his soul-
strivings after the good and the holy, all
those base and iniquitous principles and
practices taught in such seminaries as May-
nooth, and so shamelessly gloried in by its
pupils. I hope to meet in that bright world
114
oooBT ms oBJaiT TO fuanmm td
Above irilh many * ndmtmtd wal who has
for A long tiBM lojoonied here beloir, and
held commimioD with the {Babylon of scrip-
tore, having been kept by her under a strong
delusion, yet not suffiinently strong to restrain
thehr earoest yearnings after tmth, or depiive
them of the oommonion of graee.
The management of ftlaynooth, the in-
atmctions given, and the cooseqaence of
these instmotiooSy are not matters proper
for a^iadication under the civil law. Permit
me horo to observe, tiiat to wiliidiaw the
grant is to acknowledge the inability of the
state to IcigUflate on the subject, and cannot,
by any amount of sofdiistry, be constroed nUo
UgUlaiioniK to an infinacti<B of the principle
here laid down; it is simply updoing the
wrong legislation of the post, and placing
the matter in Hatu ^uo.
It is of little consequence to the point at
issue whether the management of Maynooth
is entirely Papist or Protestant, or partly
both: be that management what it may, it
certainly is responsible for the seleotien of
the order of study, the class books used, and of
the masters employed to conduct the studies
of the pupils. I made some remarks in the
January Cordrover$ialut upen the moral
quality of the instrnetian chosen by the
managers of the ooUe^^e, to which i refer the
reader, for the present giving "an extract
finun a letter Ibund at page 44 ^ the report of
1627, addressed by the cardinal prclect of the
college of the Propagaada at Rome, in 1796,
to the fioman Catholic prelates who were
trustees when the «oUe|^ was founded;" —
"It is also our eameat desire that you will
prove by your conduct the grateful sense yon
entertain for so signal a benefit (vis., the
grant). The inmates of the establidiment
ahould be sedukmaly admonished, by eviery
suitable means, to be snbnissive to power
and authority, so that mo ftetmg$ vf rf^rei
otm ever be experitmced for kaomgeonferred
t^ion ifou 9Uok a hon^C* finch were the
feelings with which the grant was first
received by the Papists, and thus were they
reawnably accepted by the Protestants as a
pledge of the intention honourably to carry
out tbe principles and practices of good
dtisens and loyal subjects, by inculcating the
doctrines of honourable submission and due
• i«>cech or R. SpooDcr,Seq., in the House of
GoaunonSfMsy 11,1862.
respect to the constitiited autboriticB and the
estaWiahed order of things in England and
Ireland. Let ms for one moment asamine
how this pledge was <oairied out. In 1792
the JBoman Catholic prelates petitioned to
thiaeilect:— ^^^'With iBgard to the constitn-
tion of the -chnrch, we are, indeed, invieiably
attached to aur own: fint, because we believe
itto be trae ; and next, benase, beyond beUef,
we know that its prinoiples are oalcnlated to
make ns, and h»ve made us, good men and
Gitiaens. Bat as we find it answers to us,
individnally, all the ends of religion, we so-
lemnly and oonscientioady dedare, 4bot tte
are aa^Jied with ike pi aseitf conditUm ofomr
eodofiaiioal poUey. With satio&ctiflB ve
aoqniesce in the estabhsfament of the nationsl
church; we neither repine at its posstasinri
nor envy its dignities ; we are ready, vptt
this point, to give every assutauce that n
binding upon man."*
In 1 608 the same assurances wan repealed :
— " Your pstiiionen most solemily dedsie,
that they do not seek or wish, in anyway, to
injure ..... the Protestant jaligian as by liw
established." — ^'' Have we not hesod it stated
in this hoBse (the fionse of 'Commons), tfast
nothing would satisfy the fioouui Catholiri
of Irehiad until the reveooes of the ohurcb
were taken fisnn it, and disttibuted amsniiFt
the Boman Cathohcs?"t Mr. Giifaid, m hiN
Life of Pitt, states, not only that within thice
yean of the establishmentof Maynooth mssj
of the students joined the rebdlion, but that
Dr. Hussey, the fint president, pafahshcd i
pastoral letter, previous to the ootbraak in
1796, charged with treason and rebellion, in
consequence of which he was obliged to fly
the kingdom, and is aaid to have died an
exile. " I entertain no doubt," says a Ist'^
writer, *' that the disorden which origiute
in hatred of Protestantiam have be» in-
creased by tlie Maynooth cdncatksi of tbe
Catholic prieathood. It is the Maynooth
priest who is the agitating prieat; and if
the foreign educated priest chanee to be s
more HboaUminded man, lass a aealot, kc
a hater of Proteataattsm, than ia consistsst
with the present spirit of Cathoitieism ia
Ireland, straightway an assistant, red-hot
from Maynooth, is appointed to the parish,
and, in fact, the old priest is ▼irtnaily dis-
* Speech of B. Spooner, Esq., in the lloose ci
Common*, May 11, IWS.
+ " Bulwark," p. 177.
OUOBT Vn ORAUT TO SAaOrOOTR TO
W3I?
115
pbced."* The Dufalki Freemtm'a Jomrmd
ttji: — ** A national prksdiood apmng from
the people, aad educated at home, could not
remain paasrro in tiie straggle of their raoe
for reUj^oas equality." Compare this with
the follomog from " A CathoUc Journal and
Review/' part xlv., September, 1851, which
aajs : — ^'' It is difficolt to say in which of the
two popular expressions— *iAe rights of civil
Ubertjf,* or ^the rights of religious Uherty^ —
is embodied the greatest amount of nonsense
and£Usehood. . . . Letthia pass, then, in the
case of Protestants and politicians. But how
can it be justified in the case of Catholics,
who are the children of a churdt which has
ever aocwed the deepest hesiUity to the prin-
ciples of reUffiom lAertg, and which never
has given the shadow of a sanction to the
theory that ^ civil liberty j as such, is neces-
sarily a blessing at all? . . . Belie^'e us not,
Protestants of England and Ireland, for an
instant, when yon see us pourin;; forth our
libendisms. When you hear a Catholic orator
atsome public assemblage declaring solemnly
that *tl^ is the most humiliating day in his
life, when he is called upon to defend onee
more the glorious principles of religious free-
dom,^ be not too simple in your credulity.
These are brare words, but ihe^ mean nothing.
He is not talking Catbolidsm, but nonsense
and Protestantism. You ask, if he were
lord in the land, and yon in the minority, if
not m numbefB, yet in power, what would
he do to yon? If it would benefit the cause
of CathoHoism he would tolerate you; if
expedioit he would imprison you^ banish ^ov,
fine uou ; possiblj, he might even hang you.
But, be assured of one thing: he would never
tolerate you for the sake of the 'glorieus
principles of ciyil and religious liberty.'" f
1 have said the teachings of Maynooth are
seditious, and given extracts from Belkrbne,
as quoted by the editor of the ** Bulwark;"
here is an illustration of the practical work-
ing of this instmctieD at Maynooth. The
Tihkt^ some tine ago, made the following
statement: — ^**We respect the authority of
the vicar of Christ infinitelj more than we
do any musty act of parKament IVe oon-
ader our allegiance due to the Roman throne
first cK all, and second to that, and in an
infinitely lower senaa, to mese civil govern-
ments. We owe our lajalty to the h<dy
Boman see; and perish the thrones of IdngB
and queens of earth rather than tiiat shaJl
be in the ahghtest degree tarnished. As
the sptrituai power icfinttely exceeds the
temporal, so does our loyalty to the holy
see that which we owe to the Queen."
Reiffenstuel is a standard author at May-
nooth^ and is referred to both by tutors and
pupils, in their studies, as an authority on
the question of religious liberty and alle-
gisQce. Speaking of princea, he says (lib. y.
tit. vii. p. 252): — "They are not to permit
the exercise of their religion (that is, the
religion of heretics); they are aealoosly to
exterminate them to the nttermaat of their
power; they are to be sworn to do this. But
if they shall be unwilling, let them be de-
prived of the honours they hold — be ineH-
grble for other honours — be bound under ex-
communication, and their lands placed under
an interdict of the church." And again:—
**If, therefore, a temporal ruler, required
and admonished by the church, shall have
ne^^ted to purge his territory of heretical
filth, let him be bonnd iry the cham of ex-
communication, by the metropolitan and
other com-provincUl bishops; and if he shall
have refused to make satisfiustion within a
year, let this be signified to the Pope, that
he may dedare his vassals to be thenoeforth
absolved from their allegianee to him, aoid
give up his territory to Catholics, who, with-
out any contradiction, shall possess it, having
exterminated the heretics from it'^* I will
conclude, for the present, by reiterating the
language of the British Banner^ in reference
to Maynooth : — *' What honseholier was ew
so infatuated as to famish dopltoate keys to
a burglar personally known, and avowedly
intent on plundering his plate, jewels, and
other valoables, and, it might be, taking iiis
own life? Since the world began, what
power was ever so insane as to subsidize an
enemy, and thus fomish him with the means
of its own defeat and humiliation? The
religion of the Thugs is murder! Would
any but a nation of Bedlamites not ouky
tolerate the professofB of that religion of
blood, but actually supply, from the national
treasury, the funds for supporting a manu-
factory of daggezv? Such questions may
♦ laglbs " Ireland," p. 341.
▼ Appendix to Speech of B. Spooner, Esq., * Quoted in the speeeh ofB. Spoontr, Esq.,fai
Kayii.iaw.
the House of CommonSi Hay 11, 1608.
?^?:^*..!UJ^to ft* ri«lrt .Hndiun./lu' Willi III
?^.,Kr.,.,™. of *^7^,^„"Kt lb.UJ™
THE DTQUIRBR.
117
be enslaved under the tbnldom of indoicnce, but
to make active and united eilbrts in pimuing the
tortaons path of mental culture. What they could
not do intUviduailyt they may effeet coHfCttrWy,
A n>ur will be given to their intellectual fkeulties.
ttod a laudable emulation will neccMarily arise.
Their strife will be all for a common object—
their aim will be all for the common good. Ad-
vantages thev had not even dreamed of may be
derived; and, though difliealtaes mav at first
beset the way, and lowering clouds obscure the
horizon, all wUl yet be made smooth and brilliant.
Diligence and application must be their watch-
words, and the motto to be emblazoned on their
banners should be ** Wise in planning^flrm in
carrying out." A meeting was held on the even-
ing of the 31st of Januaij last, in the Masons*
Hall, for the purpose of organizing a society. Mr.
Peter Paton was called to the choir, and explained
the ol^ect of the meeting. Sixteen young men
enrolled their names as members, and there is
a good prospect of a considerable accession to
that number. We were quite satisfied with so
ikir a starL Bules and regulations drawn up
from the excellent model ones in the British
CotUrovenialist of February, 1851, were then
read to the members, and, with a few slight i
variations, approved of and adopted. The order
of reading Uie essays (which are to embrace
scientific and literary papers and historical and
bio^rraphical sketches^ was then laid down in
terms of the rules, and lectures and social meet-
ings also provided for. Saeh alternate evening
is to be devoted to debates on interestinir subjects ;
and, if time allows, redtations and reaetings firom
good English authors will be given nach evening
after the essays and debates. The following
members were elected office-bearers : — Peter
Paton, president; Robert Mailler, secretary; and
John Thomson, treasurer. These, along with
Messrs. John McOrouther,PeterFaichney,Jame8
Henderson, and Andrew Oswald, to be a com-
mittee of management : three to form a quorum.
The ordinary meetings are to be held weekly, on
Monday evenings. The success of the society
depends altogether on good ntanagement, dlh-
genoe, and perseverance on the part of the
members, and punctual attendance. It is laid on
a good solid basis ; and if the members perform
the requirements of dutjr, it cannot fail to oilist
popular Aivour, and will undoubtedly prove of
incalculable benefit to our rising youth. We
hope to be able ere long to report fovourably of
its progress.— R. M.
€|fB S^mu
QUESTIONS REQUIRING ANSWERS.
149. Would your clever correspondent, C. W.,
Jun., be kind enough, through the medium of the
magazine, to refer me to a more extended list of
bo^s in law, science, philosophy, and general
literature, than is contained in the last number
of the magazine, as the works mentioned there
are more applicable to a theological than a law
student?— A Law Studbmt.
IdO. Would any of yourfriends be kind enough
to explain to me fully the science and practice of
foreign exchanges, and the various influences
which generally cause the exchanges to rule
high and low between difftrent countries ? I re^
oellcet noticing a series of articles on exchanges
in the EeoBomittt about the year 1847. Could
you inform me whether those articles were re-
printed in a separate form 7 If so, please state
price. I Ipve no doubt, Mr. Editor, you will say,
why did you not embrace the opportunity of
noueing those articles for your permanent ad-
vantage ? My plea is, that I was in my minor
years.— W. U.
191. Would any of your correspondents be kind
enough to suggest to me any books which contain
information on the origin, progress, and history
in general of Sunday schools, both at homo and
abroad?— J. F.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
103. ilfOMSiOttl^Atfv not in ITolrs.— B. W. P.
regrets that ** Hynafieithydd" should have reason
to complain of inaccuracies in tiiat portion of his
letter which was forwarded by B. w. P. to the
Controversialiit. He begs to assure " Hyna-
fieithydd " that he was not cognizant of errors at
all, it being the subject merely, and not verbal
accuracy or inaccuracy, which attracted his notice,
and induced the republication. The corrections
made by " Hynafieithydd" in a following number
of the newspi^>er he was not aware of. So fhr^
however, fipom being "grieved," as " Hyna-
fieithydd " supposes, B. wT P. has great pleasure
in expressing how gratified he felt on seeing the
subject thus dealt with bv different parties,
enabling those to form a judgment upon it who,
like himself, have few opportunities for research.
B. W. P. may add, that the notion which gave
rise to this correspondence was one which he nad
frequently encountered, but of which, till the
appearance of these letters, the only solution he
had received was from a learned editor (not the
editor of the Controversialist)^ who so far en-
lightened his inquirer as to hint that ** the school-
master must have been sadly abroad during his
attendance at school ** — an answer which was, of
course, highly satisfactory !
138. The Cause of Mtst and Foa.—Ui%t and
fog I take to express two different degrees of the
same natural phenomenon, a mist being a slight
Tog. The cause of mist or fog is evaporation, or
the imperceptible formation of vapour, which takes
place at almost all temperatures short of fVeezing.
When the air is dry, this evaporation is absorbed
as it rises ; when the air b already moist, and
there is no wind to carry these evaporative pro-
ducts away, they rapidly accumulate, so as to
become visible, and are then termed mist or fog.
IK MPIHH Uul on phCriTt Inrl wiJ •uuuUi , The (
intin>|mr«Hf!V>iti.luuliiiiu«lhUl«(Avi.l &e. W.
tlu "IK (U; IIU t'wlt |<ivi!)<r1f brUirr Uh' iillirr . ir Iti
tX^; ltfliHMip|i.iii-ii1^iithat ^iiuiiihtn imi/^vjiff^, fliiuLm
uid Uir bill A tm tiinn ii> Awl ■■> tlir hall ll. ouljr tn
WlMi 1) lwi'i>ill»l tHi'vinKA^aUl''&«- luIM kcVul
100; Hlun II liu nJInl rlnrn firJt. A alll li»a liult m
rallclllU. Wbilr Aiii]ia>4iiiilhrniidillir iK'il ttacpn'
out judi B (hj lunuvltimi} aiU kun- nuiwvl »i>nB
lbniiiiikiiiHni(rbaAi>rii*iid. WhJcAiw^n I ha
tttooitli ihi> trarih. U irill iMVf Klnumf -"^ - ■
himin-Uk.uuitaaumt iiUItU
A OB iKnr umukc II. Wliiri
Ihii? In ■i-iimliiitlliiBqnMii'lii. mnuT lri>>- will v
out oTmiiMtiuiiHi llic rfliKli al/ntlhu, lu-l uf lir I'ln
tkUUMUvliJbniiiLli»ihi«h^i.>r[m'ui<ni!>ii llTi^i
finU^o uB ulftnnlf 1b ■ Mril«bl lliiR. TlHtir Th* i
thlB^ iluBMIm itriRhl pnrtiullj rtii'hr anri- sn]>]ii
iKriiMDI buiWiiit; but Hun h u aMuiififi hi luiib^
IB Ihr nHs HHoH*^. Ilir 4»liiKt aiqinilKiiiiini all,
cr B-Urii mif inrfv-rr HHBC inali'il n-n. Il h Sia
aHiigvrilbat lb* Mil OKniiliniiaikilr'i"'-- >lii»
119
of a •rSogimn. A U S,
C ; and it aiidB oUmt niim
of the eyllogiRa. The
lot be imt iu syUo^Mtic
form, and hebee at the very oatoet logic disowns
m^ soodemns it. The nearest appfoaoh to the
sfBegistie Ibrm of wtaieh the psendnvargoment
ii eapable runs thus:— >At a certain ^aat (▼12.,
five ndanlBB part I) the hour hand *• ^ of ikre
mindes in advance. AtacertainoOier tune,(viz.y
^ of fife mtnntes later) the hour hand is ^^ of ^^
orfive miwtiti— In adnmoe,&e., whence *' Homo's '
fKend oonohides tiietafoie at tM jMWslMe tinn$
the hoar hand is soRWtAM^ in tdvanoe ! Pat
into srmbolByit reads thus : A is B, C is -^ B, Ice.,
therefore Y is Z. Logic triomphnitij shows the
foUj of such so|iliistieaiion.>-B. 8.
J4S. Jro«7 to obtain Eate and Power in debate.
—Oar friend ** Tiaum " is in a dilenmia eommon
to most vising intrileels, and oAen to minds of
matnii^. In order to fpve a salbfhotory answer
to fail inqaixy we most first lamind •Um, Ibat to
eondnet saceesoftdly a debate, and to delrrer
"pnpared speeehes/' an two vasUy different
mental eaanases. The apeeehes may as nraoh
Isek the logical oontinvi^ as liieaoeial debates.
The want is a ladicaJ one. It originales in a
defeetire mental tolcion. Debating and epeeehify-
iog, if we may nee sudi terras, are distinct things,
Mid sve generally the results of widely different
mental inhitudes. -Generally, though not neces.
sarily, in a spaedi we lotric for a good style,
besittiful
sublime thought, energy, and
psthoe. A debate may lack all these, and yet be
nririneieally exeaUent, >. e., if it have logical eon-
tipiiity anstaining the harmony of the puts. In
Older to render prominent oar meaning, we say
tiiat to Ifce mind belong two di«tinot powers,
which we ahall heae denominale the analytical
and synthetieal pewets. The eollivation, and
consequeotly tiie exercise, of the latter is the most
natural, pleasing, and easy to the mind. ''A
Iktle knowledge" ie often enough to call it into
exercise, and produce apparently great results.
This is not the case with the former. The tuition
end exercise of the analytical fliculty is more
difficult and nobler; it yields less trmi, but it has
in quality what it lacks in quantity. If we look
into the literature of the present time, we shall
see a strikiug illustration of what we have stated.
We see the woridngs of the eynlhetieal faculty in
the innumerable works of fi^ion constantly in
the market, in which, taken as a whole, there is
less ittteOeetual power displayed than in any
other branch of our literature. On the other
hand, we eae the workfaig of the analytical laeulty
in a few ** reviews," in which the display of iu-
teUeotual power i» coloesal and imaiense. It is a
atateraent which will bear investigation, that the
imsUeet of the preeent cantary has made eriticism
the avcna on whidi it has displayed its sublime
might peslroy the *' reviews" of the past, and
what is than Mk of the grand productions of such
inlelleota as Foster, Hall, JcAey, Maeaulay, and
many othere? They have given to the world
their ericiobms as the imperishable tablets of
their iaunortaUty. We h«ve illustrated our poai-
tioa. In debates there mast be the exeroise of
this analytical flunlty to ansare soeeess ; if it is
wanliag, **the sulQeriAiatter'' may well appear
conAised and " enveloped in mystery." Without
it there can be no intellectual power in debate,
any4naee 'Iban theie'ean be logic wUhoat aagu-
menL We can easily mad '* Timon's " iian4nlcl-
lectual Mb in this inquiry. He has been oulti-
vating the synthetioal fiumlty with oare and
delight ; and doubtleas, were he to eoUeot all his
productioas, he would be ama»ed at the qnantl^,
eonaideiing the time and talent expended. Bat
whatever be the number of artiolee, msaje,
voUumes, &c, there is, we preaume, iiitle logical
eontmuity, and peiiiaps not one sparkling ser^>
of pure criHeitm in tike whole. Fiction, idealism,
poetic flightB, brilHant, laconic, but unconneeted
sentences, may, we 'doubt not. be found. These
will not survive the etonn of a debate, bat rittiar
oenAise the mind and paralyoe its powera «ro
tempore, Faet, logic, argamentation, eominamr,
can only attain the latuwl in a great philosopmc
debate. What, flieu, is the oonelusion, or what
definite advice do wepreeent to ** Timou 1" It is
this : — Cnlttvatenow, witti great careand industry,
the analytical foculty. Bevert the order of your
intellectual action. Exobaage fiction for 0aBt,
and idealism for logic Tou have long been
leamin||[ to build, now learn to wMbuild. You
have raised the eidifioe, noir take it down, and
examine eveiy stone with the eare of an alchemist
and the rasearch of a modem chemist. Master
the first six books of Euclid ; fotbom Lonke ; vd-
deretaad Baoon ; and digest carefully What^y on
logic. Become conversant with the simple prin-
ciples of indttotivephilosopby;'* remember J^ocon,
and abjure despair." When you have done this,
then may yon come forth into the arena of de-
bate, terrible and mighty as a young lion from
his lair. In conclusion, remember that your
knowledge of the aubject for debate mast be as
extensive and proferund as your logical power is
great in order to ensure success. You must not
only be; a grsat thinker, but a great and earefol
reader. In one of our leading reviews we find
these words : — ** Vo man emn be a great ttfinlier
in our days upon large and elaborate suestions
without being also a great student. To ttiink
profoundly it is indispensable that a man ehould
have read down to his own starting point, and
have read as a collsting student to the particular
stage at which he himself takes up the subject."
This change in study and mental action, com-
bined with profundity of tliought and knowledge,
is, we think, the only remedy for the case before
us. — BOL.LA.
144. Why Lord Paimentan doe» not $it in the
House 0/ Lords.— hy article 4 of the act of union
with Ireland (30 and 40 Ckorge III., cap. 67),
twenty-eight lords temporal elected /or l^/e are
to represent the peers of Ireland in the House of
Lords; and any peer not elected may, if bethink
fit, sit in the House of Commons. So by article
22 of the act of union with Scotland, sixteen
lords temporal eleeted fur each parliament are to
represent the peers of Scotland. No le^fal Eng-
lish title is unrepresented in the House of Lords.
Such titles as Lord John ^isoell. Viscount Maid-
stone, Marquis of Staflbrd, et cetera, are only
titles by courUejf. — ^Lrx.
146. A good Lam Book^^Ln " Inquirer" will
find Stephen's "Commentaries" to meet his
wants. It is ** partly fonnded on BLackstone,"
and is what Blackstone would have written had
he now been alive ; it is in its third edition (But-
terworth,Fieet«treet.4volumesjlarge6vo}. The
whole system of English law is embraced and
120
THE TOUVO grUDBaT AlTD WBITKB*8 ASSISTANT.
treated dearly and oomfireheiiaiTelx, though of
eonne not minutely.— Lbx.
The book that will Ailiy answer *' Inquirer^s *'
purpose is a late edition of Blaekatone's " Com-
mentaries," in four goodly-sixed volumes. These
will require a six months' close reading, and
then he will have but a very general and vague
idea of what the law really i». I should be sorry
to recommend him to buy the work now^ or to
oommence reading it (ezo^t the first v(riume,
which treats of the constitution), as owing to the
vtTjr unsettled state of law matters, and the great
ana continuous changes going on, what is law
now may not be law three months hence, and
even then it may be again altered in a few
months mora. The printers of law works have
been unable to keep up with the law reformers ;
and lawyers are now actually without any stand-
ard authority as to the present stato of the law.
Serjeant Warren published a few years since an
abridgment of Blackstone for the use of schools
(price 78. 6d.), but 'I fear it would prove too ele-
mentary a work to be relied on ; besides, many
of its doctrines are now obsolete, and I ha?e not
heard of any new edition coming out Let me
take this opportunity of assuring "Inquirer"
that there is no " royal road " to the study of the
law ; and that unless it be studied as a whole,
time will only be thrown away in studying it at
all. — J. L.
147. How to Harmonize CoUmn. — B. B. wishes
to know how to harmonize colours, and the indu-
ence of colour upon colour produced b^ proximity.
To harmonize (M>Iours is to use them m combina-
tion, in such proportions that, when seen at a
distance, one neutralized bloom is produced ; that
is to say, that one colour shall not overpower
another by being used in too great a proportion.
No combination of colours can be perfect without
the three primaries being present, and for them to
harmonize well together, should be used in ihe
proportions of three of yellow, five of red, andei^ht
of blue; this is according to the experiments of
■cientifio men, it having k^en proved that a pris-
matic ray of white light is composed of yellow, red,
and blue, in the above proportions. It is evidcot
that the nearer we approach to this state of neu-
trality, the more harmonious will eoloenng
become. From the three primaries blue, red,
and yellow — the three aeeoodaries are produced,
viz., purple, orange, and green, and thoe are ih«
complementary colours to the primaries, fai this
way, that two of the ^maries being combuied ia
equal proportions to produce one sceondary. Ik*
colour so produced is the oomplementarr one t»
the remaining primarv. Thus blue and yeUov
make green, which is the eomplementary of red:
blue and red make purple, the ccmipleinent of
yellow; and red and yellow make orange, the
complement of blue. The influence of ooloor
upon colour is thb, that when two tints of ihe
same colour are placed in juxtaposition, the l^hi
colour will become lighter, and the dark eomir
darker; but when two dilRrait ooloun are used
in proximity, the elfect produced is double— fint.
as to their tone, the light colour appearing lighter,
and the dark colour darker ; secondly, as to thar
hue, each will become tinged with the complemen-
tary colour of the of Aer. Thus, place pnUe red in
close proximity with dark blue, and we shall Me
the pale red become paler, and at the aame time be
tinged with orange ; and the dark blu« wiU beoone
darker, and be tinged slightly with Kreen. There
are only two perfect neutrals — ^white and black ;
one the extreme expansion of light and brilliaaqr
into colourless light ; the other the ooneentrtfion
of density into colourless darkness ; their efltetis
to harmonize : thus, when only two colours are to
be used in ornamentation, as red and green, bjr
the interposition of white, an harmonious effiwt is
produced. Black gives effect and preserves tbe
integrity of coloun : thus, oraamente of a Aerk
colour upon a light ground should be ouUioed
with black ; and also gold omamento upon snv
coloured ground. See also the lecture of Own
Jones, Esq., on Colours, delivered at the Society
of Arts, which I should recommend B. B. to par-
chase, published by Bo^, Fleet.«tr««t, price 6d.;
also Hayter's "Treatise upon Coloure," wk
2s. 6d. G.B.
^t jilting Itnhiit Dtti Wi^fi^^msAtoA.
GRAMMAB CLASS.
Junior Division.
Perform Exercise No. III., Vol. III. p. 158.
LOGIC CLASS.
Junior. — Art of Reasoning, No. III. Does man
only receive knowledge? What are we able to
do, 'in consequence of being endowed with lin-
gual powers ? What has been done by language ?
What are words? What are names? Of what
advsntage is the power of imposing names on
our ideas ? Do we name objecte ? Of what does
all our knowledge consist? Define generaliza-
tion, and explain ite office. Give examples of
genera ization. Define the several spedes of j
names. Classify the objecte able to be named. I
What are the predieables ? What rule ooght wr
to observe regarding words 7
/Vtwertior.— Exercise, No. III. VoL 11.
Senior. — What are the mental operations m-
plied in ideation ? (Ideation is a word inveolHi
by James Mill, Esq., and employed by him in his
*' 'Analysis of the Phenomena of the Bumiai
Mind,'^ 182&— which see. It is used here to
signify the whole of Che operations necessary to
the formadon of ideas.) See I>estuit de Tracy's
" Elemens d'Ideologie,' Laromtguiere's ** Lefous
de Philosophie," Conshi's ** HisUrire de la Phi-
losophic," sect, xvii.— xxiii. ; Hickok'a ** BatioosI
Psychology;" MacVicar's «' Human Nature,'*
ch. ix. ; Berkeley's *' Principles of Human Know-
ledge;" Locke, Hume, Reid, Stewart, Brova;
Sir Wm. Hamilton's *' Disouaaions on Philo^
phy," and Notes on " Reid."
Hjutttrit*
BT THB AUTHOB OF "tHB ART OF BBASOKINO."
No. XVL— LITEBABY -ESTHETICS. '
^STHXTiCB U the term now generally employed to designate the philosophy of the Fine
Arts; in other words, it is the technical name of the Science of Taste. The speculations
in which it engages are of yast importance, inasmuch as a great proportion of the pleasure
of human life results from the perception of the Beautiful, the Grand, and the Sublime, of
the nature and objects of which perceptions this science takes especial cognizance. Ab
every art depends on some theory, and is benefited or injured as the theory on which it
reposes is correct or incorrect, it is evident that the accuracy or inaccuracy of the prin-
ciples laid down as regulative of the Fine Arts must materially influence the gratification
derivable from the products of these arts. Kow, as Literature is that department of the
Fine Arts most accessible to the public, and most extensively in demand amongst the
people, any defects in the Theory of Literary Art must affect the executive skill of the
labourers in that department, and may lead to the dcpraration of the taste, not only of
that, but also of the succeeding age, wo think it of some consequence to prelect at con-
siderable length on Literary iE^thctics, t. e., on the Science of Taste, so far as that science
concerns itself with Literature.
Two benefits will obriously result from the consideration of this topic, if prosecuted in
a right spirit and to a practical end, viz. — 1st. The work of criticism will become possible,
easy, and definite. 2nd. Literary aspirants will be made aware of what qualities are
requisite to conmiend their writings, as works of art, to penons of refined, delicate, and
correct taste.
Many men content themselves with the belief that Taste is self-regulative, and un-
amenable to law — the result of "an intuition which cannot be analyzed "^-
** A bappy genial influenoe,
Comiag one knows not bow or irticnoe."
Indeed, thu has more than ooce been articulately set forth, and nowhere more forcibly
than in the works of Nature's genuine bard-nursling, Clare, who says —
** Taste is from besTen,—
An inspiration Nature can't bestow ;
Tboogh Nature's beauties, wAerv a fotte U ^iwn,
Warm tbe ideas of the soul to flow
With Ibat intense tuthnalasdo glow
That throbs tbe bosom when the carious eye
Glances on beauteooa things that give deligbt,
01ti««elB of earth, or air, or sea, or sky,
Thmi bring tk» very $en$e9, in tbe sight.
To reliik vhat wt sec; but all is night
L
122 RHETORIC. — XO. XVI.
To the (lull clown ; Nature's unfolded book,
A* on he blunders, never strikes his eje ;
Pages of landscape, tree, and flower, and brook.
Like bare blank leaves, he turns unheeded by."
To this decision, however, many have refnsed their assent. They maintain that in the
human mind nought is lawless, nought instinctive — that the Reason is the lawgiver of
thonght, the autocrat of the mental powers, and hence that all the processes of thought
are logical— that our pereeptions of beauty, grandeur, and sublimity, are processes of
** calculation " — that
" All that la greatest, noblest, purest, best ;
All that in man ranks higher than the brut« ;
All bis fine passions — Love, Ambition, Fame,
And Beauty and Religion— all are wove
By subtle powers of thought fh>ni the sakne thread."
There are those who think that Taste is an original mental capacity, which enables man
" To feel
The great and lovely, and the poetry
And saorednesa of thing* ;"
while others regard it as a derivative power, dependent for its existence upon the exercise
of the feelings — that mental suggeetiveness is the power that sheds a
" Dawn of beauty on the world ;
Brightens the sky with benlzoa to man —
Tempers the wind with ^aritable thought—
Tea, in the cloudy chariot of the storm
Sees a sweet shape close folded in soft plumes.
That prompts its thundering speed." *
We believe that neither of these theories is absolutely correct, but that in their synthesis
the most accurate solution of the question may be found. Kot by instinctive spontaneity
alone, nor by relative suggestiveness alone, but by the united activity of both, as it appea»
to ns, is this important problem solved. Taste is the tertium quid which results from
their conjoint exercise. If Taste be wholly instinctive, it will be incapable of receiving
education or practical training — will be, in fact, destitute of improveability; if it bewhollr
the result of the laws of association, then It is capable of being educed and cultivated in
all, in any direction — ^it is the mere creation of circumstances, as variable and changing
as they — taste and fashion become convertible terms. Wrought out into its conse-
quences, each theory seems indefensible. Is there any possibility of finding a third path?
We believe there is ; and shall endeavour, as briefly as possible, to present the oatlines of
* Those who wish to prosecute the study of the different Theories of Taste may consult, most
advantageously, the debate on the question, " Is Beauty a Quality inherent in Objects t " in VoL I ,
as well as an answer to a query regarding " The Theories of Beauty** contained in page 437 pf
Vol. II. These previous expositions of" the philosophy of the beantiiVil ** necessarily and agraeably
relieve um from fully traversing the field of exploration, and warn ua,too, that our purely philosopluc
treatment of the topic is not likely to meet with much fkvour trom those who have read with intnesi
those prior prelections. Ours, however, is a different purpose, and merits a different judgment Vr
wish to review the topic in its relations a« a pmrt of a great whok, and must carefully guard against
being led to give an undue prominmce to any peculiar bra'ich of " The Science of Thougbt-Exprc^
■ion."
BHSTOfiia— no. ZTi. 123
a Theory of Taste, which appean to ns onobnoKioiu to those objections which xnmj be so
strong]/ urged sgmixist the prevalent ideas entertained on this topic.
"The teem Taste, like all other fignratiTe terns, is not extremely accnrate; the thing
which we anderstand bj it is far from being a simple and determinate idea in the minds
of most men, and it is, therefore, liable to nneertainty and confusion. ... I mean bj
the word Taste, no more than that faculty, or those faculties, of the mind whidi are
afiected with, or which form a jndgment of, the works of imagination and the elegant
arts. . . . And my point, in this inquiry, is to find whether there are any principles
on which the imagination is affected so common to all, so grounded and certain, as to
supply the means of reasoning satisfiactorily about them. Such principles of Taste I fancy
there are; however paradoxical it may seem to those who, on a superficial view, imagine
that there is so great a diversity of tastes, both in kind and degree, that nothing can be
more indeterminate.***
The foregoing quotation states the general question so clearly, and asserts so unequIvo-«
caUy the opinion that there are certain fixed laws of Taste, that we have no hesitation in
adopting it, so Dar as it goes, as the expression of our own opinion. We purpose, however,
to proceed to the subetantiation of the propositions contained therein after our own manner^
andjmost respectfully solicit the attention of our readers while we attempt to steady
before their eyes, for investigation, that strange " something which floats between reality
and ^ncy " to which the designation ** Taste ** has been given.
^ If we are at all divinely souled,** we must frequently have felt the joy arising from
Idealization; and, if we minutely probe our consciousness, we may discover in it the
mode in which that joy originates. Self-analysis is the ea^perimenfum cruets of every
theory regarding the human mind and its operations; and if the theory be accurate^ we
shall find evidences of it running *' through all the subtile texture of our souls.*' In that
we shall either find " confirmations strong as proofs from holy writ,*' or evidence suiHcient
to show wherein lies the inaccuracy. To suck deliberate tentatton we ought to submit every
new solution of the problems of mental science. We ought not to be so wedded to Theory
as to prize it above Truth. If the solution be written in the author's soul, it should be in
oars also; to that, therefore, we should refer as the test of every new opinion propounded.
Such an intellectual assaying we hope you shall award to the following atteppt to expound
"the philosophy of Taste."
External objects are capable of producing various changes in ns. The sensations which
result frxHn them originate conceptions. These are the ideaU of external things. These
ideal representatives are destitute alike of the defects which appear in extertial objects
as well as of the particularization which they convey. Objectivities commend them«
selves to our mind in such a way that we irresistibljr store up their representatives ia
our memories. They become associated into classes or groups possessed of similar or
analogous qualities; that is, qualities capable of producing within us similar or analogous
impressions. Like assioBilates to like in the mental as in the material universe. Hence
one of the grand laws of suggestiveness, or associative thought. Series of ideas become
co-linked in the mentality in oonsequenoe of their resemblances to each other, either in
* Bofke ** Ob the Sublfane end Bea«ti'\il "-^introductory discourse, pp. 6^7.
1S4 BHBTORIC. — ^HO. XTI.
their power to impress the peroeptivitj in a similar manner, or in their capadtjr of caosin;
pleasure or imparting jojr. There are, hence, two phases of assoeiatire thought, Ti& — Itt
The Intellectual, in which ideas are connected together according to the approsimatioo to
sameness of the impressions thej are -capable of making, t*. e., in consequenoe of beiDg
resemblant phenomena. Snd. The Emotional, in which ideas are colligated according to
their power of exciting within us similar or analogous emotions, £ «., in consequence of
being emotion-consilient phenomena. This duplex coUigativeness to which phenomena mj
be subjected we regard as an important fact given in the analysis of consciousness which
bears most directly on the settlement of this much-debated question, inasmuch as it ensUcs
us to synthethizethe two prevalent theories of Taste into one. We shall no longer require
to maintain the inherency of taste-exciting qualities in external objectiTities, or assert that
the subjective emotions are subsequent, not simultaneous, results. We shall no longer be
compelled to homologate the whole of the associative theory which the process in iti
entirety is considered as subjective. We shall perceive that the impression made <m the
perceptive faculties, and the pleasurable feeling educed in the emotional department of oar
nature are co-ordinate, not subordinate — that the intellectual and emotional are coojoiotly
and contemporaneously excited — ^that the theories are not rivals, but are merely comple-
ineuts of one great whole, and that
*' Through all the unbounded symmetry of things *
mental and moral pleasures are closely united. How truly speaketh the poet: —
" Ob, what a glory doth this world put on
For him who with a renrent heart goes forth
Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks
On duties well performed and days well speut.**
Taste, then, we would define as that state of mind in which the intellectual and emo-
tional ppwers are most readily susceptible of being oonjointl/ and simultaneously exdtctl,
by the same or similar objects.
Tliis definition, we believe, would yield a philosophic reason for the diversities of tssta
-existing among mankind, at the same time that it would impart unity to thought, ind
.afford a test for judging of the merits of works of art, whether pictorial or literary.
Regarding the diversities of Taste, it wotild enable us to say that, as the intellectiul
and emotional susceptibilities and culture of each man differed from those of his ncighbosr,
^e could not but expect that minor diversities of taste should exist; — that, so far ss men
were similarly endowed and cultured, similarity of tastes would prevail; — that, as the
majority of men are in the possession of all the great essentials of mental and fflonl
capacity, we should expect, in all the great essentials of taste, a timilar coinctdoocer—
that, as national culture and habits of thought differ, we should expect to find natiooal as
well as individual diversities of taste ;~and that, as there were different modes of artificial
life to which men tacitly agreed, there should be found an artificial taste, i e., fashioo or
mode. Now all these things we do find — things which lay as stumbling-blocks in the **/
of the reception of previous theories, but which explicitly prove the truth of tkk^f^
diMtinctlf that Intelligence and Emotion simultaneously excited are the two prindph* *
which TMBte depends; and that as f&\]hei d >i2^«M^1«>M^2^«l vBlttDlianally or aoddtftallfr
<ttfw» jii proportional power, •© AitIL \J» a^^ '
RHSTORIC— HO. XTf. 125
Binding the ataodurd of T«8te, it would furmah as with the following law, viz. — ^that
whatsoerer bj the majority of men of the highest intellectiial and moral capacity and cul-
tare has been or is regarded as poaaeaaed of the power of exciting the emotiona of Taate
ahoald be oooaidered aa the model or atandard of Taate. It would Hkewiae ahow that the
tastea of an age change with the hitelleetoal and moral habits in which they originate ;
bat that thronghont all ages there has been an nnanimona verdict given regarding all
endoiiog works of art, which proves that the general atandard ia never radically revoln*
tioniKd. Indeed, it gnaranteea that tbia can never be, nnleaa the homan mind itaelf pre-
Tiooaly nndergoes a proceaa of change ybnte et arigine.
There ia yet another important deduction which may be made from thia theory, viz. — that
Taate ia improveable. It not only enables to do thia — it does more; it informs ns that
the means which may be sncceaafolly adopted for ita improvement are —
1st. The atndy of the claaaical worka of taate of all ages and ooontrica, ao far aa oppor-
tonity ahall admit
2nd* Keeping the intellectnal and moral natnre as pare as possible, i. e., retaining them
in their highest possible state of efficiency.
drd. The employment of anch departmental atady as shall improve that portion of oar
Taste which is defective. If the imagination ia unduly active and extravagant, a logical
cnltnre will reatrain and correct it; while, if the imagination ia weak and inert, the atudy
of the great imaginative minds ahould be perseveringly pursued. Culture will improve
either if dnly engaged in; thoagh it must be remembered that no amount of culture can
possibly prodaoe firat-claaa crops in a naturally barren aoil.
Having, in the foregoing paragraphs, presented the reader with a key to the solution of
several of the gvuHones vexata regarding Taste, we ahall, in the aubsequent portion of
this paper, endeavour to explain the qualities of Taste which it is most requisite literary
aspirants ahould posaeaa.
Correctneaa and Delicacy are the chief characteristics of a really good Taste — a Taste,
that is, which reaulta from a highly developed intellectual and moral nature. Correctness
of Taste proceeds from the exercise of a keenly-critical judgment, accustomed to regard
the impressions made upon the mind with watchfulness and careful scrutiny. Here the
intellect is active, ready to detect the slightest incongruity or want of harmony. Clear-
sighted and capable of exerting minute inspection, it perceivea even in trifles the origin of
dissonance and diaagreement. A lively consciousneaa, readily receptive of impressions and
acutely self-analytical, can seldom, if ever, be incorrect in the fonnation of judgmenta of
Taste. It needs not that the mind be knowingly sensible of this prompt habit of exerting
its critical sagacity. The very rapidity induced by frequency prevents the likelihood of the
fnodui operandi of thought so occupying his attention. But that the intellect necessarily
performs a part of the process of Taste- excitement must appear peculiarly evident, when
we recollect that the logical facultiea chiefly concern themaelvea with the ideaa implied in
agreement and diasinnlarity; and hence that, wherever the notion of oongruity or incon-
gruity can ariae, judgment must be operative. Kor is this fact one of minor importance,
for it ahowa that correctoett of logical training is easential to the poaaeaaion of a correct
Taste, and may be rendered aubeervient to its education. When the Imagination is apt to
nm riot, and to throw oat similes, metaphora, and hyperbolea, as plentooosly as ahells are
126 BHETORIC. — ^2CO. XTI.
heaved upon the ocean's sbore, soma diaciplina ia certainly adriaable. An nnfitting oma-
ment of style cannot gntif j a Taate wfaiok has been logieallj trained,
" Tho«|(h it were writ
With honey-drw, tt|N» a leaf
With quill ornightngade.'*
Logical trainiog bestows upon the intelieot a clear and penetiBting Tisioo. The iaielket
so cultnred cannot rest satisfied with obecarity, but tarast hare ererythii^ presentid in
distinct and perceptible oatlim. A chaos of ideas and fieeliags will not fasciData or caraptnre
the soul which has usdei^ne snch diactpline. Order, tnuispareney, and dcfimteBeas, nost
succeed confoaaea, opacity, and Tagneaess. ^ A ana ol coixeet Taste is one who is never
imposed npon by ooanterfeit beanties; who carries always in his mind that standaid tf
good sense which he employs in judging of cTerything."* To compare the real with tbe
counterfeit, and discriminate between them,, demands, as we bsre said, a process of res-
soning. Correctness depends on tbe intellect, not on the emotions. Mflien, theraAre,
we wish to eultivate correctness of Taste, we must train the pereeptivt and reasoning
powers rather than the emotions.
Delicacy of Taste is an emotional susceptibility rather than a proeess of the ressea—
depends mors upon the liTeliness, acuteness, and mcety of the emotioaal powers, than the
logicality of tbe mental operations. Refinement and social progress aid greatly in the
diffusion of delicacy of Taste, because they produce actf vity in and exercise for the emo-
tional sensibilities of man. It delights not in
"A dim and dretniy imf^rny,
Shapen, haSt-ttbmptnt mis elispep, and unakaven,'*
but requires chasteness and simplicity in every utterance of tbongbt.
Grace, loveliness, harmony, and relevancy, may be discerned by the sensitive and intel-
lective faculties; bat the degrees in which these should be proportioned to gratiQr ^
emotive powers demands this delicate act of Taste of which we speak. Parity of moni
feeling, keen emotional sensibility, habitual self-constraint, living within "the golden
mean,*' are most likely to bestow this delicacy; but even in the diaplsy of fiercest pas-
sions there is an artistic ideality — a refinement and elegance — a classical grace and an-
affected&ess which discriminates the nicely-minute shades of thoughts or the expressions in
which they are couched. The ro ca\ov can never be expressed in words, because it is felt
by few, and words are made for and by the multitude; at least they take their patent from
them. It is that exquisite delight which we experience in looking upon a work of art is
which the sensuous awakens the emotions, and both in fine harmony of action gaze and
gaze almost to fascination — while a quiet though deep-felt current of feeling flows throash
the mind, and we realize and acknowledcre the truth of the poet*s assertion—
" A thing ofbeaiitf is a J07 for ever;
Jfi loveliness increases ; it win never
Pass into nothingnesa ;**
it is that f( eling which we experience when we read a book in whi^ inteflect and cmotifla
are equally excited.
« Blair's Icetuna, IL, voL i. pw 9B.
IS TBS OBSBRYAlfCB OF A SABBATH INCUMBENT OS GHRI8TIAVS ?
127
M
At th* tirin tklal wave murms the world,"
and an is wrought into perfectioD.
Delicacj sod correctness implj each other. The equilihriam of sensational, intellectoal,
and emotional feeling, as it depends on the high and simnltaneoos coltore of the knowiof^
and feeting capacities, necessarily requires that delicacy, the nicety of the emotional
powers, and correctness, the clear-sightedness of the intellectual powers, should he com-
bined to produce that excitement of the mentality which is implied in the word Taste.
We expected to complete the treatment of this topic by illustrating the genesis of the
«niotions of Beauty, Gnmdeur, and Sublimity; this, howerer, we feel ourselres eompelled
to adjourn till another opportunity shall arise. We shall attempt to orertake it in onr
oext issue; meanwhile we can only say with Gower —
** Albeit I sickneM have and piin,
And long have had ; yet would I fhin
Do mj mind's hest and basinrss,
That in tome part, so as I guens,
The gentle mind may be advised."
Hfligion*
IS THE STRICT OBSERVANCE OF A SABBATH, AS ENJOINED IN THE
OLD TESTAMENT, INCUMBENT UPON CHRISTIANS?
APFIRMATIVE REPLY.
I3r concluding this debate upon the sab>
iMsth, I intend to adopt the following mode
of procedure — one according to which I
think all discussions ought to be conducted.
Hariog developed my po$itive views in my
first article— on a polemical basis, it is true,
becaose from the required brevity of the
discussion this was necessary — I now pro-
ceed to criticise the arguments of my oppo-
nents, in order so to *' ventilate " (to adopt
a House of Commons word) the question,
that I may modify my own vicious positions
or expose the fsJlacies of my adversaries.
This shall he done with the same weapons
which my antagonists employ, for in equal
warfare the combatants are armed alike:
^rith those who confine themselves to the
logical rapier, I contend with a similar wea-
poa ; while they who let fly the arrows of
vidiciile and sarcasm, must not compUin if
thej find themselves a little galled by these
ia torn.
Before entering into isolated and indi-
widnal objsetioDs, I think it will be sdmitted,
Ivf tiwttij' eofaptteat penaa who reads and
judges candidly the entire discussion, so far
is it has gone, tHat two fruitful sources of
misconception and misunderstanding on both
sides are to be found in the imperfect know-
ledge—1st, of the relation which the Old
Testament holds to the New, and Judaism
to Christianity; and 2nd, what consti-
tutes a moral law. These misconceptions —
or, more properly, misunderstandings — I
shall attempt to remove.
I. We do not regard Christianity as a
system erected upon the ruins of Judaism,
but rather as the completion of a nobler
building ; not as a polity which not only su-
perseded, but was, in its various enactments,
opposed to, and destructive of, the former,
both in letter and spirit Such a view is
plainly absurd, not only from the sctual
position of the latter dispensation with
regard to its predecessor, but from the con-
sideration* that both systems emanated firom
the same legislator.
If it be true, that every system of law
• 1 d«b»fce Y^et% oiiLf ^v"^ OiDt«)ia«k»
128
IS THE STltlCT OBSBRVAMCK OP A SABBATH, AS BKJOIHBD CT THB
intended for the practical regaUtion of
society must contain coDTentiunal enacts
ments, haring reference to those conren-
tiraal modes which are fonnd to prevail
among that section of mankind for which it
is to he naed;* in other words, if it be tme
that there mnst be special injunctions framed
to meet the necessities of that peculiar form
of society for which the code is promul-
gated, then the abrogation of these clauses
or injunctions no more affect the great
central principles of truth or moral law
upon which the general code is based, than
the spilling of a little water, taken to
quench the thirst of a single individual,
affects the gushing fountain the waters of
which it formed a part. We therefore
maintain that all those instances in the
Jewish code which had reference onlj to
Jewish society and manners, formed to meet
the temporary exigencies of life under pe-
culiar circumstances, must rirtualiy have
ceased, as in all codes they do cease,
when that which called them forth no
l(Miger continues to exist. In proof of this,
and of the glorious fiiet that Judaism
was Christianity as it existed anterior to
Chiist's coming, and Christianity Judaism
as it exists after Christ, I need only quote
the memorable and emphatic declaration of
the Redeemer (Matt v. 18), *" For verily I
say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass,
one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass
from the law, till all be ful6lled.'*t
Having thus briefly explained my views
of the relation of the Mosaic economy to the
christian, views from their brevity neces-
* See Coleridge's " Friend," Essay iv. p. 64.
+ I am aware that much cavilling might be
raieed agaiost this judgment, and the interpreta>
tioD on which it is founded ; but here, I say again,
that I argue only with Chrbtians, since my oppo-
nents have admitted the authority of the scrip-
tares upon this point. If, indeed, an attempt be
made to invalidate my conclusion upon the
ground that the word *' law^' used in the above
passages, includes every item in the Mosaie code,
and the clause, ** Till heaven and earth pass," be
understood to mean that the law, in this extended
sense, «honld continue in force rill the end of all
tilings— then our Savioor will be made to speak
not onljr contraiy to fact, but eontrary to his own
declarations and practices. But understanding
the passage thus, uie difficulty vanishes. '* While
the world remains as at present it is eooditioned,
one Jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass Arom the
law, i. e., ftrom a state of active enforcement upon
the consciences of men, till all its purposes and
requiiemcnta are fulfilled."
sarily incomplete, but still suffident, I think,
to indicate, when candidly nnderstood, the
general bearings of the question so far as is
requisite for our present ptirpose; I now
proceed to inquire, What is a moral law?
This admits of brief reply. A moral law is
a condition of num's monl nature, to which
he must conform io his actions as he con-
forms to physical and organic laws in bis
corporeal nature, and the violation of which,
equally with the other, prodnoes an un-
healthy state of the moral being ; therefore
it is impossible that a moral Law can be
transgressed with impunity: ponishmest
follows with the linked certainty of canas
and efiOpct. Is, then, the observanoe of the
sabbath enjoined by a moral law? We main-
tain that it is, on the following grounds: —
1st. From tlio universality of sabbath ob-
servance, admitted even by our opponents to
be coeval with man himself, existing uni-
versally in that oriental world whence has
flowed the great stream of human lifo; its
importance recognised even by the profes-
sedly atheistical republio of Fmnoe. 2od.
From its beneflcial influence, in enforring,
upon sacred grounds, a cessation from laboar,
to which otherwise the selfishness and cupi-
dity of man would impel him not to submit,
to the great waste and eventiud destruction
of his physical and mental powers. 3rd.
Because religion being the highest ooooem
of our nature, it is of parnmount importance
that man devote a spedal time* to the culture
of his religions nature. 4th. Because this
law stands in the centre of the moral code
delivered by God to Moees, and is alwsjs
enforced in the Old Testament, together
with the other capital moral precepts— an
argument of itself sufficient for Ghristisns.t
* Why does not 6. W. W. pot Us objections in
plain, definite language? Are we to nodenftutd
by the feeble bints (I speak considerately) eon-
tained in his last paragraph, that a seventh day,
set pecnliarly apart to the culture of the religious
life, is unnecessarv, becaoae it Is incumbent apoa
man to carry a religious spirit into his daily lii*
and actions 7 (Will the rt«l ChritHaH who ex-
perieneeM the benefits of the sabbath day agree to
this ?) If so , with equal felicity (leaving the diA
ferent constitution of man's raocal and inteHec^
tual natures out of the question) mi^t he argue
that a special time for the cultivation of the intrl-
lect is unnecessary, because that must be exer-
cised in our daily avocations.
■f I may here deduce a consequence frma vy
position with regard to the relation subsistiuft 1ms
tween Judaism and Christianity, Ibr the puiipese
OlJ> TKSTAUEaT, WCCMBMfT UPON CHBISTIASa?
129
Bat we most be permitted to express oar
thftnks to him for the assistance he haa
given ns in answering; himself, and shall b0
careful to avail oorselves of bis labours. .
lBE2<Rf Contra.
These being the groonds upon which we
maintain the obligations of Christians to
observe the sabbath in a sacred manner, we
noxr proceed to criticize in detail the argn-
ments of onr opponents. First, then, for
"Irene," the leader of the opposition.
Irexx, Pro.
"Yon need not, my worthy friends, enter- "We, thcrofore, contend that the Jewish
tain the idea that the institution of the sab- law is obsolete, because it is no longer pos*-
bath is in any imminent danger of destmc- sible to inflict the penalties due to its In-
tioD. Yon need not fear that the present, fringement. . . We deny the soundness of the
nor, indeed, any amount of public discussion assumption that the Jewish sabbatical law
mlitMtterially tend to shake ittfoundaUons is a * moral* law. The definition of a
m socieifff and to precipitate its violent and moral law — ^a definition furnished by sabba-
speedy overthrow. The sabbath day, w|pther tarian divines — is, that it is a law which
as a day of rett^ of recreation, or of JKrahip possesses force and vitality under all circurn^
— 09 the unUer offamUieSt the restorer of stances, and in all times and places. It is
health, ike oniy opporitadttf to thousandt one of the first principles of moral science:
foTBpirUual ea;ernM«— has entwined itself it is to morality what an * axiom' is in
too strongly and closely around the human metaphysics ; it is a law which sppngs di-
heart to allow such an event to be thought rectly from considerations connected with
of as even potnble. The tabbaih is older the moral government of the universe, and
than ChrietkmUy — is older than Judaism; it is as eternal as the moral nature of tho
is as old €U the creation, and sprang into ex- Divine Being. Now, it is at once evident,
istence with the human race and with time" that the sabbatical law docs not fall within
&c, to end of paragraph. the terms of the definition. Clearly, obedi-
ence to it as a law could not be claimed
before its promulgation. It could not he
binding before itwas made knoicn, nor after
it to any to tchom it remained unknown. It
is, therefore, not a moral law, but an itisti-
tution. But take a law which does fulfil the
conditions of the definition. Take *Thoa
shalt not kill.' He would deserve to be set
down as a hopelessly wrong-headed man
who should argue that it was right to com-
mit murder before the delivery of this pro-
hibition, or that, in the observance of it, it
• would be right stilL It is a law written in
the human heart. Even the Greenlander
feels its force, and instinctively shuns the
presence of one who is stained with guilty
blood. Not ao, however, with the sabbatical
law. It fulfils none of the legitimate condi-
"We regard it with a sincere and earnest tions of a moral. It possesses for us, in
regard. We often feel, that without it our fact, no greater authority than that pos-
sossed by the *aWflrffcaf year, or eren 6y <A«
of meeting an objection urged against the chris- regulation of the proper trimmings for tlie
tiau obaervanee of the sabbath (in relation to priest's garments But we go further^
S2S. ?intr,'|j: «?9ir I'-Ilntain 'th?t t. ^ '^ <*«'. «^ «* -* ^^^^^ •' ^.
whole moral coJle of Judaiim not only descended not rest upon MORAL grounds, &c, to end
to, but fhnn the very first was considered as en- of paragraph.
tering into, tiie very heart <»'«»»• «V*!?*!"ii?ii: " We take leave to say, that because w*
J^^jVJ^l^l'S^lm^^^ refuse to submit our necks to the yoke of a
130
la THS STSIOX OBUUVAliCS OF A BABBATB, AS SRJOHIBD IK TUB
joarney throngh life would be intolerable;
that without it life mould he a hurdeny and
fxiatence itself a curse. We betieTe, olao,
tbat to the sincere Christian, it is a sweet
memento of divme love — a convincinff or'
gument for one of the most important facts
which form the basis of his belief, and a
constantly-reourrinff remembrance of that
glorious immortality and ewrUuting rest
which wUl be his reward hereafter^ C*'J
Now, we miut be permitted to saj, that
we reallj cannot understand how the sab-
bath is ^ the oniter of families, the restorer
of health, the only opportonity to thousands
for united spiritual exercises;" how it is
^ older Chan Christianity — is older than Ju-
daism, as old as the creation,* and sprang into
existence with the human race and with
time;** and yet the law upon which it is
founded " possesses for us, in fact, no higher
sanction, no greater anUiority, than that
possessed by the sabbatical year, or even by
the regulations for the proper trimmings foi
the priest's garments;"— ;nor how a law
which " comes to us with the authority of
no moral obligation, and which the Founder
of Christianity has himself taught us to
disregard," can form the basis of an institu-
tion " which is to the sincere Christian a
sweet memento of divine love — a convincing
argument for one of the most important facts
which form the basis of his belief, and a
constantly-recurring remembrance of that
glorious immortality and everlasting rest
which will be his reward hereafter." ** Irene "
will perhaps tell us that we have here mis>
understood and misrepresented him, by not
sufficiently noting his distinctionf between
the Jewish sabbatical law and the Christian
sabbath. But that laboured distinction is
shown to be wholly false, when we affirm,
and dare the assertion of the contrary, That
THERE IS XO POSITIVE nvJUMCTION, COX-
XAKD, OR LAW, FOR THS OB8BRVASCB
OF A SABBATH, TO BE FOUKD OUT OF
« Bis (Hend, G. W. W., if we may judge by bis
«laborate geological argument, will •carocly agree
with'* Irene "here. * ' '^
■f Distinction understood, not cxj^wsaed.
law ai once oppressive^ obsokteyOnd imprac-
ticablt—a law which comes to us w£h the
authority of no moral obligation^ and leiUoi
the Founder of Christianitg has himself
taujfht us to disregard — we do not necessarily
put ourselves in a pesition of hostflity to the
sabbath itself (!) But to what extent
it should be obserred by the Christian, and
by what meana sought to be preserved, are
questions which, in this view, do not pro-
perly enter into this diacnssioa, and in the
investigation of which, if they did, we should
receive but little light and sssiatanee from
the study of a subordinate elciiMDt in a
WORTHLESS SOd DOCARDED eOQIIfllliy*'(!')
TBE^KlPTURXa, KOR IK THE SCBnTOBIS
OUT OF THE Mosaic code. HeDee» if we
disregard the aathority of this code^ wt
have no graonds, apart fhm considamiiQOSof
mere ntility,^no divine sanction bj which
we are justified in obaerving the sabbath.
But we must not pass ** Ireiie*s " definitJen
of a moral law, whioh dsfinilHin, we sie
told, is "* fumiabed by ssbbararisn dtvims.'
Commoo fairness sorely ought to have die-
tated his quoting ch^er and page firom
which it was derived. We must, moceovcr,
demur to the assertion in this definition, thst
u
a moral law is one which
foros
and vitality under all circumstances, and is
all times and places."
We can conceive of a state of societv
where his example of a moral law, viz., tbat
against killing, would neither possess force
nor vitality.
Passing over his " triumphant " case of tbe
violation of the sabbatical law by Christ,
which a very slight acquaintaoeo with
scripture, and those exceptional cases which
must occur under every law, will enable soy
person to refute, we come to his ooodndioc
paragraph; here we are informed that th«
sabbath law ** comes to us with no monl
obligation ;" nay, previously to this we read,
that the ** sabbath, as an * institution,* does
not even rest upon inorsl grounds.* U
this be true, for what reason does ** Irene'*
profess his sincere and earnest regard for it?
His ^ last words," we must take leave to ssy*
not only surprised but astonished us. Aftsr
having done his utmost to cut awsy the
ground upon which that sabbath — the sb*
eence of which, he tells us, would mds
"life a burden and exiateiies a eons " ({rrt^
OLD TBgTAUESTt dCVMBBHT UPOV CHBUXIAKS?
131
Permit me now to tremble you, trouble you,
VUh some remarks on 6. W. W.
This gtotlcmsn has tfaoogbt proper to
employ a nttter kiigtbj article in a gaerilla
warfare open oar friend ^'Glowr," giying
ourselvcB a gentle admooitioDf hj waj of
'condnsion. He has characterised oar friend
as " reaching eztraordioarj conclusions, bj
a most eatraordinary oourse of reasoning."
We most be permitted to aay that G. W. W.
has reached- no coBcIasion at all, bj a very
commonplace sort of reasoning. Commencing
with " Glowr's ** first sentence, we have a run-
ning fire of not very strong assertions, dimin-
utive syllogisma, and would-be witticisms^
which might, perhaps^ be a little livdy were
it not that it reminds us of the conversa-
tional style of clever young ladies, who
fancy themselves a great deal cleverer than
they really are, and who consequently d^e-
nerate into (what our gallantry regrets to
style them) — ^ bores." He is very strongly
in favour of "sabbath tnTna," '* sabbath
amusements,'* and " Sunday newspapers;"
and waxes poetical in a description of the pro-
gFBM of the " poor,** •* over-wrought," " and
smoke-begrimed artisan" into a purer and
more enlivening atmosphere, "inhaling*
which (together with sundry pints of bee
at little alehouses by the roadside)," thoughts
and reminiscences of bygone days arise, and
renew the tone of health and happiness
that is well nigh lost in the battle with the
world."
G. W. W. is foad of poetry ; so are we.
Needy knife-grinder! whither are you going?
Roush is your road, your wheel' is out of order ;
BleUL blows the blast— your hathas got a holein't.
So have your breeches !
Weary knifi^-grinder ! Ktrle tbiux the proud ones.
Who ra their coaches roll along the turnpike
Boad. what hard work 'tis crying all day, Knires
and
SclBSors to grind O !
(Have yoo read the " Rights of Man," by Tom
Paine?)
Drops or compassion tremble on my evelids.
Beady to iUl, as soon as you have told your
PiUlU story.
Knife-^ritulfr antwen.
Story ! God bless vou ! I have none to tell, sir;
Only last night, a-drinking at the '* Chequen,"
This poor old hat and breeches as yon sea were
Torn in a souffle.
I should be glad to drink your honour's health iu
A pot of beer if you will give me sixpence ;
But for my part I never love to meddle
With politics, sir.
strong " moial " groQnds,one would think !) —
he dectiaes ta console us with any equivalent
(surely this is pure licentiousaeea of speco-
lation I)— and ends thns — ** In this investiga-
tin we should receive bat little light and
sttistanoe from the stndy of a subordinate
element in a wobthless end duca&dkd
eoooomyl" I eonieaa, when those words
net my eye, I seised the pea and dotted the
margin of the CoutrwitrwialtH over with
marks of ezclamatioo.
£noogh has been said, and more than
enough, I fear, for the space allotted me on
"Irraes'* artiele, and 1 most finally take
leave of him by affirming, deUberately, that,
bad I safficieni time and space to go through
his entire paper, I could show it to be
httle ehM than a series of errws and con-
tndictioDs.
Of a Ytry different character is the paper
by " Cosmopolite." In truth, we almost en-
tirely agree with him in the principles he
has so eloquently oinndated in the first and
aeeood sections of his article* We wholly
agree with him that ** the sabbath is a time
aet apart for holding communion with the
boundless Being who pervades and compre-
hends all things^'* But his third section, in
which the acgnmentative portion of his
paper is to be found, scarcely pleases us so
much, looking at it purely from a critical
point of view. We have already replied to
the first and Mcond divisions of his third
section : to the first, in our exposition r^ard-
iog the relation which the Old Testament
holds to the Kew; to the second, in our first
essay on this subject in the January num-
ber. We have also answered the former
part of the third subdiviaion, but must say
a few words respecting the argument in the
conchiding part of his article, which is
founded on the sasertioa, that in the chris-
tian church oidinances are set sside, so far as
concerns the duty of the Christian, to their
imperative observaneob This, however, we
mast demur to, because we believe, that
while Bian remains ao he is at present con-
stituted, /om is a naeeeuity to him as well
as matter; that religiaa, however spiritual,
must hare its ewa ritual; and that, even in
the christian church, there are ordinances —
ra^, for ezamfile, as that of baptism — to
wbich it is imperative Sor the believer to
conform.
Departing from reason to rhyme —
ttain 11 least occapied bj thcoi. Tbf^ di '• t
Mt wiib to ktep ths namcrinu offlculs nfa I
nilwij >t work on Ibe ubbith to fnt ifjfAri'r t
ulfiihnMi ; ind if Vaej sp there, thej go on
Satnrdar BTening. G. W. W. is ^oinrnt on )
tlie boiiteronn mirtli of the poor srtijun wlien i
"inhaling the country ait" (and pa and I
irater), ■* albrit it \i Sand.j."— " Well, 1 I
tnut," he continues, "tbat that Gnd, which <
I hope both I and 'Glowr'" (is carefal to ' <
giTB himMlf the precednico) " reierance, ' ""
appfcdato the joyous mirlh, ai unconscii
gratitude" (verj nncontcioai, when (be >i
Ject ia dead dmnk) " to him for the rsfre.
ing draajtht' (of l>rown etont, probably).
We are next infomied that he praCeises ^tfi i
regard for all divine injuDcIions, but inva-
riably tranigrriHi the law of the ubbath.
Very candid, nodonbll
Does G. W. W. devote his sahbath dayi to
fiMkfical ticnnionsP We fear be does;
for hi* conffuion of being invariably a lab-
balh-breaker imiDediately, by an unconacioua
aawieiaUon of ideas, leads him into an elibo-
rate Btgament against the sabbath derived 1
from geolc^, proving trininphanlly in the | i
^t^-^
OLD Tnriifxirr, mcuKBBHT upok OHHnriAva?
133
NEGATIVE REPLY.
Wk bad intended, in order to do full jos-
to both sides, as well as to carry ont oor
>tion of the object of a '* repl j," to present
l>rief bat faithfol digest of the arguments
mploycd pro and can. in the coarse of this
iebftte. Bat, having again carefully gone
over all the articles, we really do not think it
woald repay us for our trouble to do so. The
&tct i«, we have c<mie to a unanimous ver-
dict The writers apon the affirmative side
are careful and explicit in giving us to under-
stand that it is not the Jewish sabbath which
they wish to prove to be incumbent upon
Christians; while the negative debatees are
eqoally careful and expUcit in directint; their
^kfgiunents exclusively against the Jewish
i^hath. For instance, our comical and
^izzical friend " Harold," of whom it may be
**id, that he is never so happy as when in-
dulging in a ** quiet cachinnation ** at some-
^jr's expense* leads the way by stating in
the Very outset, ** Before proceeding further,
^ Qiast positively object to the emblazonment
*' the colonrs under which I am about to
"SM. No Christian, I am sure, can logically
'^■Pport the Jewiah sabbath, with all its for-
''^ities, under the christian dispensation/*
^i^ in the commencement of the next para-
^ph he takes especial care to " assure my
^'i^ods that I am not an Agnewite." Next,
^^^ilowing this example, comes ** Glowr," who
^Is us ** that it is immaterial which day of
^ seven we observe as the sabbath ; whether
^ seventh, according to the Jews, or the
^^ as observed by Christians;" and that,
\ When the christian dispensation was estab-
M^ed, all injunctions relative to the cere-
itioiuAl law were abrogated, while others of a
<UffiHrent character were placed in their stead."
And last and least comes " J. F.,'* who says,
^hat, "Having impartially examined the
^aestion nnder discossion, we hesitate liot to
feajr, that the strict observance of a sabbath
— not the Jewish sabbath^ but a sabbath
Inalogical thereto ( ! ) — is incumbent upon
Christians." Mark the term! On the other
baiKiv the whole tenor of the remarks of
'* Irene," " CosmopoUte," and " G. W. W.," are
Erected against the $trict observance of the
sabbath m enjoined m the Old Testcunentf
QTf in other words, against the Jewish sab-
bi^ : and the fbrmer is at special jmios, both
tAe ciotfe of his article,
to disclaim any hostility to the sabbath. He
says, " We rega^ it with a sincere and earnest
regard. We often feel that without it oor
journey through life would be intolerable;
that without it life would be a harden, and
existence itself a curse. We believe, also,
that to the sincere Christian it is a sweet
memento of divine love — a convincing argu-
ment for one of the most important facts
which form the basis of his belief, and a
constantly-recurring remembrance of that
glorious immortality and everlasting rest
which will be his reward hereafter."
Such being the state of the case, one side
contending for that which the other not only
does not deny, but seems anxious to affirm,
it would evidently be superfluous on our part
to add anything more by way of ai^ument.
For ourselves, in fact, we feel particularly
obliged to the editors for bringing so unprofit-
able a debate to a speedy close.
But, apart from the direct issue, which
seems to be settled by mutual consent, there
are one or two things in the papers of our
opponents which we should like to subject to
a little friendly criticism. Those are some
statements made which to us do not seem to
prove thst which their authors evidently in-
tended to establish by them. For instance,
** Harold" wishes to base the christian sab-
bath upon a Jewish foundation, and he begins
thus : — " The citadel of the scriptural argu-
ment Mies' in the fourth commandment."
Now, we cannot help expressing, by the way,
oor astonishment that so hypercritical a pen*
sonage as "Harold" should allow himself to
speak of citadels as " lying" anywhere. We
thought their natural position was to ** stand,**
at least so long as they were useful for
df/tenswe purposes. 'Perhaps, however, we
may bo allowed to hope that our friend has
been the victim of a malicious P. D. But
we recognise a friendly truth, even in the
mistake. We gladly believe that the ** citadd "
in question does "lie" — overthrown and in
ruins — and to have so lain for eighteen cen-
turies and a half. Prosecuting the same
argument, "Harold" proceeds, in a strain of
the finest eloquence, to discourse of lightning,
a dark abyss, bread and butter, and the
ten commandments; and conclodea mlVi vb^
elaborate and enlVx^^ ori^gjoX ve^a:GQ»&^r--
theargiime&t<£sw^li€C^s)mi^&^^ ias»^s«^
184
18 THE 8TBICT dMSKBVAJlCK OF A BAVBATfT, AM BVJOIHED TV TBI
statement of it is this r — The other nine
commandments have not been ahro^i^ated, and
are conseqacQtlj now binding ; the foarth
commandment *' stands in the centre of the
roll," and therefore it has n*t been abrogated,
and is now binding likewise. The argument,
it must be confessed, has a spice of ingenoitj
in it, and we only regret oar inability to con-
cede to it anything inore. It strikes ns, in-
deed, on the face of it, to be a little too bad
to profess to determine the validity of a moral
injunction as we wonld the character of a
suspected thief — by the quality of the com-
pany kept. And the mention of a thief,
too, suggests that if this argument of goodly
fellowship were a sound one, Judas Iscariot
should have been an honest and a very
holy roan. But the fact is, and we do not
care to say so, we are astonished tliat any one,
possessing the sagacity and good sense which
our friend "Harold*' ordinarily evidences,
should ever have dreamt of such an argument
at all. The utmost it can do id to lead us
to a favourable presumption respecting the
claim advanced in favour of the fourth com-
mandmenL To attain to anything like cer-
tainty we must adopt a different course.
Granting, for the sake of the argument, that
the other nine commandments are all now
equally binding upon us, how do we arrive at
that conclusion? Clearly enough, by a con-
sideration of their intrinsic merits; by whst
our friend himself calls their " suitableness**
to the nature and circumstances of man.
Well, then, in our former fHiper we subjected
this commandment to this test, and we foimd
;t wanting in all the elements which should
characterize a law of universal application.
In taking our leave of " Harold," we must
venture the remark, that we really do think
he has allowed his antipathy to " bread and
butter" to carry him too fur. In the first
place, he has practically shown his dislike of
the ^ utilitarian creed," by contributing an
article upon a question essentially different
to the one proposed for discussion; and in
the next, in defending the position he has
chosen, he has rested his case npon an essen-
tially unsatitifactory and unsound foundation.
But there is one sentiment expre'ssed by
"Harold** in which we entirely concur, and
we hoYB sincere pleasure in giving it promi
nence. It is this : — " But grautm^ \Vial tV«
cbjtnge hag taken place, in a manner Vw^X^ \ mA oWvsa* ^\siC\xw<dc»)^^
deBneMbJe, all Christiana bcVieye XVki.t \.\sa\^« i\^^ks«!W\. y«Y*» *
resurrection of the Son of God and Saviour ef
mankind — the consummation of the hopes of
fallen humanity — ^was an event toflkient to
justify the first day of the week being bdd
as the sabbath.'* Exactly so; bat in tkst
case it concerns Chrittitau only, and em
then lacks tlie sanction of (mtkariiif; and it
is to get that, that rabid rnhhatariaes gobick
to an apostolic dispensation.
Next in order comes "Glowr," and we had
dotted down a few things to say to him.
But " Glowr,** though not of English desoBt,
is less rabid than " Harold,** and is not so
amusing as J. F.; and m he has alrsidj
engaged the attention of G. W. W., aid «t
have very little space at command, we shall
therefore at once pass on to J. F.
by a variety of definitions, dtttinctiant,
criminations, references, and a little fait a£
antiquarianism, we come to the foUowin^
remarkable piece of criticism on <a» of thfe
preceding articles : — " We acknowledge tli»^
it (the sabbath) is an institutioD, or posi^
tive precept ; but (I), mftre properly, a mtail—
positive command ; and our opponents ma^^
acknowledge, on the other hand, that it is ^
divine, a moral, an equitable, and a rdi'
gious institution. * Irene* denies' that it i^
a * moral law/ because it does not, says h^«
fall within the terms of the defioiti<» of ^
moral law, which are theae : — * It is a U*^"
which ])osseKses force and vitality under all
circumstances, and in all times and pboes-*
Kow the remark of * Irene* may be correct t^
far as it respects the time of the inctitntioD •
but it will not hold good vrith respect to tb^
main thing — the spirit and snbstance of tb^
sabbatical institution. That God should b^
worshipped is a moral law ; that he shoold b^
worshipped in such a manner as can only b<0
done by a strict observance of the aabbatki^*
to my mind, eciually moral (?); and that b"
will be thus worshipped by his fiaithfnl ere*"
tures- for ever there is no question (?> *
hence the soul and substance of the iwel*^
tion-sabbath is a great and moral law; and^
perchance, the greateat that comes nnder tb^
notice of man.'*
Now, we candidly confims, that when ir^
read this passage we were fiUed with dtafrnf"
We thought that any one who ooaM so liitla''
lessly torture the Qaeen*s English, and s^
blindly pervert to his own dotrnetko a plai^
Wnttsriy
OLD TESTAMKirT, nfCUMBCTT UPON CHItnTIAIIB ?
135
despaired of being able ao to " enlighten the
darkneas," the dense Egyptian, donble-milled
darkness— what ** Harold" wonld call the
"' abyss <tf darkness** — of such a mind, as to
enable it to perceire the distinetion between
a fundamental moral law and a law which is
nmplj moral. But, as J. F. somewhere
obserres, ** charity bopeth all things,** and we
will therefore try.
We take it for granted that J. F. knows
what u meant by physical laws — those
gnmd, snbtile, mysterions influences to which
lyitems, stars, and atoms pay implicit obe-
dience. Well, then, those fnndamental
"mond laws,** to which onr definition re-
ferred, occupy exactly the same position in
the moral economy of the universe as do
these in the constitution of material nature.
They are a necessary result of the peculiar
coBstitation of the moral nature of Deity,
■nd they govern, guide, and control the work-
jiigs of the moral nature of every moral agent
in the universe. To take an example, the
'^Cttsity to worship God — the moral Gover-
*** of the universe — is one of these laws.
^k springs directly from the relation estab-
li«htti between the Creator and the creature,
""* Governor and the governed ; and the
^^^f'nl nature of man is exactly sdapted to
*^ in obedience to it. And the spiritual
^'^'cise which is thus appropriate to our
^*^f'9l constitution is as essential to its health,
w IS exercise, amongst other conditions, to
toe health of any organ of the physical frame.
^?«i further, this exercise of spirit, this wor-
*™P» 18 poisihle under every imaginable cir-
.''"'^•tance, and is slso necessary^ in every
'^■^Jnable time and place. Our moral nature
^'^^Hing the same, it would be as necessary
JJ "**W, were we removed to any other part
^« universe; and it will undoubtedly be
.. ''^Oessary in the world to come, as it is in
** ^hich now is. In one word, we cannot
/J?*^^ve that it can ever cease to be appro-
2^*^ and necessary so long as the human
^.^ Exists, and retains its identity. But
™^ certainly cannot be said of the ob-
j^ ^ijce of the sabbath, or of that other
™J*Wiiaiy law which, according to J. F.,
^'^^res that "he (He) should be worshipped
^^^•cA a mmmer as can only be done by a
• "^^ observance of the sabbath.** Worship
^^^^entially a spiritual exercise. It is the
y^*>ation and development of the gnaxB of
^^ •jWfc It agtb0 keeping ot God Blwajs
in our thoughts, and the constant endeavour
to conform our actions to bis known wilL
It is emphatically the work of life, and not
of special days. And, besides, how can a
sabbath of rest be necejuary In that place
where there is no labour; or special seasons
of prayer, when life is one long service?
And how can it be po»sihle^ in that city in
which " there shall be no night there ; and
they shall need no candle, neither light of
the sun ; for the Lord God giveth them
light? '* But, after this, will J. F. continue
to tell us, that the rigid observance of one
day in seven for such exercises is absolutely
necessary for the continued existence of de>
votion here; or, if so, that it will be also
necessary hereafter? If not, then it is no
*' moral law,** but simply a condescension to
the infirmity of onr nature, and a corrective
of the adverse circumstances by which our
earthly sojourn is surrounded.
These remarks will render plain what we
mean when speaking of" moral laws.** A law
which is moral simply in the sense of its
being proposed by it to secure certain moral
ends— and we feel humiliated in being
obliged formally to make so trite a distinc-
tion— is quite a different thing. In this
sense, and for conversational convenience, the
law against marriage with a deceased wife*B
sister may be called a moral law; but even
J. F., we are persuaded, will not therefore
consider it universally and eternally binding.
The passage we have quoted is, indeed,
fruitful of hostile suggestions ; but it is, at
the same time, pervaded by such a delight-
ful, lawyer-like ambiguity, that it would
occupy more time and space to disentangle it
than it is perhaps worth. We will therefore
examine the remaining portions of the article,
touching slightly as we proceed such par-
ticulars as we object to. J. F. commences
the passage immediately following that just
quoted, by saying, " The sabbatical insti-
tution is not a ceremonial law. much less a
Levitical one." But then, with a good-na-
tured liberality which does him much credit,
he immediately refutes himself by saying,
*' For instance, the priests and Levites
officiating in the temple service on this day
had to work as hard again on it as what
they had on ordinary days; for, on the sab- .
bath day the sacrifices were doubled, and all
then had to\)e »\a\n,^^^,^\TA«^,"Vi«\^>
or burnt," &c. "^ow 'wVj i"^^ '^w:^^ wfis.^ VaA
1^6
IS THE 8TBICT OB8SBVANCB OF A 8ABBATH, AS ENJOINXD 19 THE
they to work twice as hard on the sabbath
as "what" they had on any other day?
What constituted the necessity ? Why, of
coarse, they were commanded so to do. And
what theo, we woald again ask, constitutes
a ceremonial law, if it is not, that accom-
panying the law itself are certain intimations,
describing and regulating the minutiie of its
observance? Again he says, ** Its (the sab-
{wth's) origin is coeval with the creation of
)nan; it is based on man's nature and re-
quirements, and comes into the same category
of positive laws as does that of the institu-
tion of marriage." Well, that is exactly our
opinion. But what is the institution of mar-
riage based on? Did J. F. ever ruminate
upon that, to ns Benedicts, very nice point?
Is it not upon the itnper/ecHon of man's na-
ture? Is it not imposed as a check upon his
lawlessness and lusts? A high authority
has told us, that ** in keaven there is neither
jnarryiog nor giving in marriage." We may
therefore believe that it is unnecessary in a
atate of perfect humanity* Probably, too,
had such a question been addressed to Him,
He would also have answered. In heaven there
Arc neither sabbaths nor rabid Sabbatarians.
J. F. next favours us witli two tables of
'* particulars," from which, however, even
with the application of **Glowr's" ** specific
induction," we find ourselves unable to draw
any general conclusion, save one not flatter-
ing to the literary qualifications of J. F.
The whole of these is wound up with three
•questions, addressed pointedly to ourselves,
and designed to be disastrously overwhehning.
They are, in fact, three little ironical daggers,
designed to take the conceit out of us. We
may say, however, for the comfort of our
distant friends, that no disastrous conse-
quences have ensued, owing, we think, to the
fact that the little weapons were very blunt,
And badhf tempered. We come next to a
misrepresentstion. *' The duty of worshipping
God at all" is repugnant to the feelings of
the great majority " while in a state of nature
and alienation from God ; but this is no proof
that the enjoined duty is illegal, oppressive.
And impracticable.** Now, we never said it
was. We left all such mconsequents to the
exclusive use of J. F., who, we see, has plen-
tifully availed himself of them. What we
4id say was, that the strict observance of
the sabbath after the Sabbatarian model was
** repugnant to the feelings of the great ma-
jority of the people;" but we adduced oar
proof that " a strict observance of a ssbbsth,
as enjoined in the Old Testament, is impcae-
ticable, and that the law itself ia obsolete,"
from a consideration of the law itself.
J. F. goes on to say, ** Touching the ioio
practicability of the subject we may remark,
that the observance of the sabbath, as en-
joined in the Old Testament, was as follows:
— It was to be kept holy. How? Nega-
tively^ by doing no kind of servile and secular
work, such as gathering manna, sticks, and
buying and selling ..^ and kindling fires."—
" There is nothing impracticable in all this;
nothing but what a holy man would delight
in doing." J. F., however, not oontent with
contradicting us, immediately sets aboat
contradicting himself. He says, ** The Jews,
on ' Irene's' showing, could do without fires oo
the sabbath day; hence, not to kindle them
was practicable. The more northern nations
cannot do without them; hence, to kindle
them' is to do gooj: and the Lord of tbo
sabbath has told us that it is * right to do
good on the sabbath day.' God never tJi-
tended that ike formal and ceremonial o^
servance of the sabbath should be the same at
all times f m ailplaceSf and under aUdrcmk'
stances. The veiy nature of things repudiates
such auction." Ha! thank you, J.F.; that
will do, Balak " brought thee to curse hii
enemies, and, behold, thou hast blessed them
altogether." But, says J. F. again, in the
same suicidal fashion, '*How does 'Ireoa'
know but that this may (does?) allude to
an ordinary fire, or (to) such a one as w
kindled for profit— in furnaces, fw fosiog
metals; in kilns, for drying bricks, con,
&c?" Why, we answer, because Moses, th«
^ amanuensis of the great unerring Spirit,*
told us so. The commandment runs, ^ V<
shall kindle no fire throughout all joar habi-
tations.** We respectfully put It to J. F-
whether the Jews in a warm climate— io
the great desert — were likely to baiM "(ur-
naces " for fusing metals, or ** kibs f^
drying (!) bricks," in their kabUatiouf
Then, if that notion is too absurd to be
entertained, it must have been ordioaiy
domestic fires which were prohibited. StiiC
however, bent upon self-destmctioo, J. F*
continues—'* ' Irene* is startled at what is rt-
corded in Numb. xv. 32—35, respeedag the
gatherer of sticks being put to death. Thb
was sot the effect of any penal^ aanextd to
OM> TE8TAME2rT IXCUMBEKT UPOH CHBISTIAXrs?
137
and
ablr
auid
It
AA infraction of the sabbatical law, for no
T^^^tj was annexed to the breach thereof."
Well, of course ice arc wrong, since .T. F. seems
80 thoroughlj acquainted with all the circum-
stances of the case. But will J. F. add to
the obligation already conferred by this cor-
'^ction, by explaining into harmony with it
^^ following passages, respectively in Exod.
»xxi. 14, 15. and xxxv. 2, 3 ? " Every
^^ that detileth it shall surely be j)ut to
'^Wii ; for whosoever doeth any work
^crein, sliall surely ba cut off , fro in amniuf
*** J^^ophr " whosoever doeth any work in
^6 s«ibbath day, he shall surely be put to
*^foe/i^ . *• If J. F. should ever succeed, perhaps
'^^ ^ill communicate with us privately by
post- And, in the hundred and twenty-iifth
and J«ut place, we would like to know what
to iLK^Oerstand by such a deBnition as this : —
"^^^ strict observance of the sabbath, as
enjoaTacd in the Old Testament, amounts to
*^^ Enuch — to devote as much of ourselves
c> nrs to God on that day as we rca.son-
C2an." ** Devote as much of ourselves
Ours" — that we think is clear enough,
ns going to church twice a day, and
giTix^ j[^ liberally at the collections. But how
•"^ 'We to understand " reasonably cau " ?
^"^•"t, in such a case, is to be the gauge of
^ i^^^onable"? Will it allow us to he in bed
late if-^e \\bx^ been engaged in business till
^'j*® ^^*«lock on the Sunday morning? Will it
~***^** OS to stop at home at night to nurse
the li^by in order to let its mother go ? Will
*^ *^Ou8e our attendance at "meeting" if it
^lt*l*^ns to be a nuny day and we have just
^^**^-d a new suit of superfine black, or should
™^^lunately be afflicted with a pair of leaky
?™J^* ? We don*t know; only we think, that
" *^^r ilajesty's taxes were assessed up«>n
^l^«'8 own computation of a "reasonable"
'?^*«5e, that the revenue would fall very far
2^^ of its present amount.
. ^ot being a cerenionial, but a moral-
es* ^ive law, the Saviour did not abolish it."
' ^^•' in reference to this, and to the whole
on of the obligation of the decalogue,
-^^«4ke leave to say, there can be no greater
^^ll^^aike than to suppose that it is binding
Christians, if binding at all, for the
rauons which rendered obedience to it
with the Jews. To the latter it
jjj^ ''pobUsbed by authority." They were
y^ «lkmed to canvass its merits^ and to
•^ // or not, according to the dictates of
we
reason and conscience. They were com-
manded to obey it, and that alone constituted
the necessity which imposed ob<>dience. The
thunder and lightning, the smoking mountain,
the audible voice, and the other accessories
to the delivering of the two tables, were im-
p)rtant and dreadful realities to the Jews;
while to Christians they present themselves
simply as historical facts, interesting, it may '
be, from their religious associations, bat
otherwise of no moment or signification. In
fact, notwithstanding the very great differ-
ence ascribed as existing between the ten
commamluients and the ceremonial laws of
the Juw8, it is undeniable that they were
bound by the same ties to obey the one as to
observe the other. Promises and threats—
the only inducements likely to operate with a
rude people — constituted the motive power in
both cases. In a word, the all-pervading
incentive to obedience with a Jew was ou-
thoi'itt/.
The advent of Christ, it is allowed on all
hands, abrogated the Jewish dispensation.
In what, then, it is important to learn, con-
sisted the abrogation? One thing is plain
enough. It was not a special re^ieal of every
law in the Jewish code; nor yet a special
relief from the weight of the ceremonial laws
in general, for there is no intimation of either
in our Lord's ministry. But it would rather
appear to be a general absolution from the
authority to which, up to that time, the Jews
had been subjected. It was the removal of
the great cau:>e of religion into a higher court.
Hitherto the Jews, in matters of religion, had
been subject to the magistrate. Henceforth
there was to be no iuterme<liate agent, and
the soul was to be responsible to God alone.
The government of the Jews was what oors
is not, a parental government. The "chil-
dren of Israel" were treated much as the
childrtn of the human race ordinarily are.
They were required to do certain things, not
(even though they were so) because they were
moral and right, but because a higher power
than themselves required their performance.
The advent of Christ, then, introduced the
Jews to the freedom and responsibilities of
manhood. They were not the less required
to do whatever was moral and right in the
old law, but they were required to do so from
higher motives. Well, thou, under tUft \&«<k
economy, the ten coTMivaT^\(v«cw\»^^x^.\^Mnft
to be re\iy^\ons\y re^atde^ «a w« <iQ^^ v««w^»^
1S8
WOULD EDUCATION BRADICATB CRIME ?
xablj bonnd tofretker, and tronid simply be i which would present itself snd be reeeiTed
reoognlBed as ten commandments, each of ■ open its own merits. Ixksb.
:^^llilnsB|ilii[.
WOULD EDUCATION ERADICATE CRIME?
NEUTRAL ARTICLE.— I.
Probably there is no modem qnestion
which has given rise to more angry debate,
or has been so completely hackneyed, as tlie
one to the consideration of which we now
address onrselres. A wordy war it has
proved itself to be, and an apple of discord
in the social arena. Opinions the meet
opposite have been broached, and anticipa-
tions the most unreasonable have been fonned
on both sides.
Some triumphantly point to education as
the grand panacea for all the moral evils
which afflict society. This alone is to work
a mighty renovation. Every part of the
social fabric is to be brought under its talis-
manic influence; and then crime?— that will
be a memento of the past: a perfectly happy,
because thoroughly educated, people shall
rejoice in the absence of that hideous relic
of a less philosophical age.
Others, acting, as we presume, on the fal-
lacy, that
'* A little knowledge is a dangerous thing,**
pass by the great question, and content
themselves with the simple affirmation, that
education opens up so many additional paths
ibr the commission of crime, and therefore
it is better to keep the people illiterate.
Some, affirming that the heart is the seat
of all crime, and that man's moral nature is
altogether distinct from bis intellectual
nature, deny that the culture of the mind
irouM check the evil tendencies of tlie heart;
while others, calling in question the sound-
ness of these statements, maintain that the
moral and intellectual natures of man are so
indisaolubly connected, that to treat them as
distinct is at variance with both reason and
philosophy.
Happily, that class is extremely limited
and uninfluential who are indifferent to the
importance of education. The vast majority
strongly advocate some system; but this ra
the rock upon which they split. The extreme
party of secular edocationists are so wedded
to tbnr darling scheme, f<Mr which they claim
the title of "National,*' that in their hot
zeal they would cause every other system —
from the antiquated danMSScbooI to that of
Pestaloszi or Birkbeck in modem times —
" to hide its diminished head.** ** Oor scheme
(say they) is of itself amply sufficient to meet
the demands of the population. We seek to
engage them in the elevating pncsnits of
literature, to inspire a love for the beautifnl
in nature and art, and to afibrd scope for the
exercise of natursJ ability, in order that their
minds may become ennobled and porified."
On the other hand, those who deny that
education would eradicate crime, aak with
the most enthusiastic zeal, " What sum of
the four processes of arithmetic, what prob-
lem of Euclid, what statute oif syntax or
syllogism, is your taliamanic agent? Astio-
nomize, botanize, Bockhmdiae; bring down
the stars with your telescope, and cnick tbe
sandstone with your antiquarian hammer;
yea, let all the wts and sciences be granted
you, and what is your recompense at last? **
— and then triumphantly look down upon
those unfortunate advocates of the opposite
view, thinUng them effectually silenced.
But enough of this. Let the champioos
on either side settle the dispute in tbe best
way they can ; we will in the zncantine
endeavour, to the best of our humUe ability,
to inquire, *^ Would education enwiicste
crime?"
It is a favourite czpressioo with an hsa-
ourable member of a certain boose, wett-
known for his eocentricitifs, **I hare so
confidence in sny party; and I am pnad to
be able to say that I stand aloDe upon ibis
question.'* Kow, while we do not aspire to
be in a minority of one, yet we eannoi fn-
WOCLD KDUCATfOX KIIAOICATB CRIME?
1S!>
feas aUegianoe to e'ther of these gmt par-
ties. This is nol becsnsa we have a mis-
anthropic feeling; bat we do not senriieij
follow aoj one set of opinions simply beeaose
they are propoonded by some of the world's
great ones. We prefer to maintain a strictly
neatral position, in the hope of avoiding
those quicksands and rocks on which so
many entertaining extreme views have fonn»
dered.
We may remark here thai the writer of
the first affirmative article has not taken
that broad and oomprehensive ground which
ve had anticipated. While admitting that
"edocation is a very comprehensive term,"
he reduces its limits by confining his atten-
tion to one phase of it, which he rightly con-
siders the highest. We had supposed, and
sappose still, that the question referred to
education in the ordinary and general mean-
ing of the term. We were disappunted,
therefore, in 6. P. W. dlscuistng it only on
doctrinal or religious grounds.
We are not quite prepared to allow that
*'it is impossible for a teacher in Eng-
land to give other than a religious education^
if he appreciate at all the end and object of
his vocation ; and hence the non-rehgious
education is an abstraction." Every one
who believes in the divine origin of the
gospel, believes ahio that it is capable of
rendering roan perfectly happy; that it is
opposed to all moral and spiritual impurity,
and that those things which now entail so
much misery on mankind shall be eventually
subdued by its all •constraining influence,
and then peace with her attendant blessings
shall be enthroned in a regenerated world.
But G. P. W. confines himself to tliis; and,
instead of writing an affirmative article on
the queation proposed, favours us with a
disquisition to prove what no one denies —
the necessity of scriptural instruction. To
make this, however, the only true education,
is, in cor opinion, straining a point, and
forcing religion from her high and sacred
duties. Hdueare (to lead oat) may be as
reasonably applied to pure secular instruo-
tioo as to the development of the higher
emotions of the soul.
B. W. P. has kept closely to the subject;
and, although we do not accept his conclu-
sions, wo are compelled to admire the general
tone of his article. He appears, however, to
be labouring vnder a false impression that
education, strictly speaking, is at variance
with the teachings of the Bible; and because
crime is still rampant, and such lamentablo
prostitutions of genius and education have
been witnessed, he hastens to the conclusion
that the ** system of education, so adapted
to the nature of man, and, moreover, so
strongly urging him to adapt his conduct to
its dictates, is, as far as it can effect a ceS'
iatioH of crime, as complete a failure as were-
the simpler remedies of bygone times.** But
gently, good, though impetuous, friend, and
answer a simple question : — If education has
failed to exterminate the monster evils of
which you complain; if, **de:$pite of all, crime
exists, an unsubduable specimen of earth U-
ness," yet, has it done nothing to check it ?
Is society in a worse position in con:iequence
of the education which a portion of its mem-
liers have received? We think not. Surely
the modem reformatory system is more
rational, and, we will venture to say, more
beneficial, then the old plan of indiscriminate
transportation or execution.
Man is, to a large extent, the creature of
impulses, acted upon by outward circum-
stances, which doubtless act as a stimulus
where an inherent propensity to crime already
exists. The mond atmosphere which be
breathes, and the peculiar temptations by
which he is surrounded, have, we think, as
much influence upon his conduct as his own
innate propensities. If the man is invested
by an impure atmosphere, surely one great
incentive to crime would be removed if tho&o
moral plague-spots which infest it were up-
rooted. If he has debaiiing obj**cts around
him, surely, by directing his attention to
higher and more worthy pursuits, he would
of necessity, as it were, imbibe a love fur the
beautiful and the good. Education ahme
can do much to elevate his aims, to purify
his motives, and to teach him that he has
something to live for besides selfgratifica^
tion. But there are, also, many other and
important quebtions involved — e.ff., the state
and prospect of the country, its international
relations, &c.— into which we cannot now
enter, but all of which exert a greater or leiss
influence upon crime.
Perhaps it is not altogether unnecessary
to give a word of caution. In deciding this
qae»tion it is not lair to take a miscellaneous
category of crimes, as arson, forgery, murder,
petty krceny, criminal assaults, &c., and in-
Iiisforii.
Is oflbring B brief reply to our o|p[ioi
in tliB pregent debale, vrs will nl nDtc
cecU to aiMitju the VBrioua Bri^uinenls h
tha KVenl ne^iliTe wrilcn ha.vD aJduci
■Dppoit of tbeir position.
Fimt, tlien, weh»ve ■' ArlstiJes." to thorn i
vc m indi'bted for tno papers illuitrulitc
of Ihe rults and blcmiBlies in lliv cliariclri
of Ihe Dnke of WellinRton. In our frivnU'!
Gi>t paper hu chief glijcct appears lo have
beta to prove that "our hen" wu deslilute
of mornr srtatneH. He admits tliat the
Duke posieneed a cerliin amount of nliat
maj be termed grtatiirit ; but then lie ailda,
that no "order tJyrcntnfM, however dmlinn,
or however mucb in repnte with the world.
I r
WORTHY OF ADMIRATION ?
141
sonl qoaltties which are absolatelj neces-
ixry tie all who would effect glorious achieve-
He waa wise in counsel and vigorous
in eacecution — endowed with personal intre-
pidity in the highest degree — was inde-
fati^aalile in activity and in constitution; but,
above all, he possessed great moral courage,
and iL fearless determination to carry out all
that t,he stem demands of duty might re-
quire. He was not to be deterred from exc-
catin^ plans which were submitted to him
itierely because difficulties apparently insur-
moan table stood in his way. No; he pro-
ceeded onwards, and, in spite of every attempt
to cnxsh his victorious arms, he succeeded in
laying the iron rule of despotism and oppres-
sion prostrate at his feet. He has shown to
the 'VTorld that glory and renown are obtain-
able^ 'Without arrogant assumptions of domi-
neering sovereignty; and through the whole
of hiss victorious course we see that, although
" nidetiess, falsehood, malignity, and revenge,
have l>eloiiged in common to many great con-
querorsj they never were among the charac-
tervttics of this one great man.** His acts
^^ despatches will remain a study for the
yonn^ soldier to time immemorial; and when
^® heroes of the present will have merged
into t.lie mythic obscurity of the past, his
name -wiU continue to shine with resplendent
Justr>e.
..^ could easily expatiate farther upon
\v ^ ^liranch of our suhject; but the life of
"^{Hugton has nothing to gain from pane-
U7^^^ The exploits of a Copsar, an Alex-
*°*^^*", or a Napoleon, were the offiipring of
unaa^^^^^g^ ambition, united, indeed, to con-
*?°^**>ate military genius, calculated to ex-
^^^ <^d fascinate mankind for a time, but
^^^''Vrards lapsing into unregretted obscurity.
^^ the actions of Wellington were of a
J'^^^ly different character. He fought not
||r ^^e sake of conquest, but for the sake of
^5jnntry, and to rescue Europe from the
of a despot. Throughout his whole
^ -, he adhered strictly to the rule of
P**^Xi^.duty: he was animated by a love
^« ^18 country, and a desire to uphold the
'^^ah crown.
^J^e tmst we have shown, in these some-
'^'^t discursive remarks, that Wellington
^^^^^^«8sed moral grteUness ; and we now hasten
^ ^H>tiee briefly the second paper contributed
^J Oar friend **Ari8tJde0." He appe^n at
^® cafsei to be Bomewbat dabioaa as to the
his
exact meaning intended to be conveyed in
our former paper. We will here reiterate
our conviction, in order that he may be en-
abled more fully to understand our assertions.
We do not '* repudiate the opinions of peace
men;** but we do repudiate such notions as
those indulged in by many, who because, in
some instances, enormities revolting to human
nature have been perpetrated by those who
held the command of armies, at once include
all other individuals engaged in similar
courses of life in the same category. We da
" stiff inatize war on account of its sanguinary
cruelties;" but we see no reason why, at the
same time, we should stlgmaiize Wellington,
as identified with war itself. Blast undoubt-
edly the "principles of peace" are those we
would advocate; but at the same time we
lend our aid in defence of the great deliverer
whose merits arc at present under discua-
sion.
We must hasten to notice the remarks of
"Aristides" upon the political career of the
Duke of Wellington. Do men of liberal
principles turn with dissatisfaction there-
from? We fear that our friend judges of
the principles of others by his own. We
would respectfully insinuate that, were our
friend actually endowed with the liberality
to which he alludes, he would not turn with
dissatisfaction from the political career of the
Duke of Wellington.
We before stated our conviction that Wel-
lington was by no means a great statesman.
He was certainly no orator ; but the vigour
and striking originality by which he was
characterized imparted to his language a
power which few orators have surpassed.
Not possessing a very widely-extended range
of public policy, he nevertheless maintained
his superiority over other men in this one
particular — he fully empracticalized those
: ideas to which his mind gave birth, and per-
fected those faculties with which he was en-
dowed.
Farther on "Aristides** attempts to dis-
prove our assertion that Wellington was
sujierior to Napoleon. Upon this point we
retain our former conviction, feeling convinced
that between the two no comparison can be
made productive of other results. True, they
both raised themselves from obscurity to the
highest renown during the great revoUiuocAri
■ struggle; but we we a'va&x ^v^«R?RRft^v^^«ft.
I them i»hcii \ook\iv^ \m^t\:vB5^3 %X ^«a -
•dTer»mne(i. Api»ii;uilj iriijiml iii tin- :> lar^.-
OatHt, WrIlinf^»D ncTcrtliulemi er«iiluul!y uur iiivt
cfTvcltd tb« dvfflit gf th« nmilri iif Li> , ■ iilli of
ntiponrnt, and baffled ■)[ kili cll'urtii and ' trer. c>
ii.ameunTS. i " L'<>uri
In tlirir miiral nnd inlellrrtniil fciluim | Kumrnt:
tbv two *en >li:i innra iilrikin|.-ly dilfiTcnt. - Iit Ihc '
ilT^bilc Wcllingion ictrd »lely rniii '/»'«, ' 4,wi:.
f gbtine oiilj vlivn nrcdtailj- ciini[>('1liil lilin I cording
le Miunu tlir licTnuiive. OpprvmiiiD ami nirnt I
iWpulic tjnnnir prnriij tl-e nun <if Iht ailniit
fonmr; whila llw judicHnm conlurt and liiiw; 1
cemiiwatirctj mildtcmpmuiimtiif tlKlaltrr tlit tni
indncnl ill Enn<]>F to plarr i(^el^ uihIft bin li mai
guidaticr. Inltlhrliully ihvrc alM> vxiilcd A^
a TUt diffemin betmrn tlirm. Ik-nsparlc lic.il >
MTUinlj vu I'lulowfd vilb a vij^oruui and nrjly 1
tlrar c(>nM]iliun; but tlu hriiihtncKt iif liig Uimt
Criiiu* too oflm ltd him to mirtake llic IWl- Uiid.'
ilip vbanloin fur Ihe luling walily. Wei- farlhi
linjctiin, DQ lb« cenlrarv, Ihoufili Ifnn nri;jiii;il bo™
in bii idtat. poumMtl a fnr greuttr [mwnr uf " l.'O
diiicriminaling betwi-rn lh# true and ihc are <]
falw. " 1'lie e«iiui uF (be f.inner tlijrr.1 in »TilN
>^z-
WORTHY OF ADMIRATION?
143
NEGATIVE REPLY.
*** TIm hero Mouif^ not bis aire alone ;
HU oaaie to late posterity b known.
He slays bb tbousauds with his living breath —
Uia tens of thousands by bis fume in death."
We caoDot too severelj deprecate tbe
-acope and tendencj of the introdactorjr pa-
ragraphs in tbe third affirmative article;
thej are calculated to discoorage inqairj
into tlie acta of public men, if they happen
to enjoj a reputation with their countrvmen
"for anrpassing talents. We, on the contrarj,
think it proper to sift that repatntion, and
determine for oarselves whether or not it is
deoerred ; the oppocsite practice is indicative
of a servile, a disingenuous turn of mind. It
ia, aaniredlj, the glorj which surrounds
Wellington as a general that obscures the
deformities of bis character, private and po-
litical; and it would be nothing short of
literary immorality to screen from deserved
reprobation acts which, if performed by iier-
OODS leas exalted in station, would have in-
curred disgrace. Besides establishing an
injnrioas precedent, it lowers the standard
of onr national morality; and, as regards
oarselves, it is cowardly to consent know-
ingly'to the misdirection of the public mind,
and to shuffle from onr duty to futurity, bj
allowing flattered portraits to obtain cur-
rency instead of genuine limnings. In our
first paper we set forth the duties of indi-
▼idiuUs in estimating the characters of such
illnstrious men as were likelv to influence
largely the characters of those who live after
tbem; and we take the liberty of directing
J. G. R. to a reperusal of that portion of this
debate, nothing doubting but that even he
will agree ultimatelv in thinking that it is not
orer ** fastidious* to require that candidates
for onr admiration should be morally as well
as intellectually great The test by which
it is endeavoured to convince us of the rec-
titnde of tbe Duke, viz., *' tbe whispers of
an approivng conscience** — " the approbation
of his sovereign and the major part of the
states of Europe** — ^is fatally defective, inas-
much as a man*8 conscience is not some in-
cormptible faculty, but one subject to modi-
iicataon from his principles and pursuits; and
tbe stormy career of his grace was decidedly
nnftivonrable to the development of one nice
in Hg percqttkmt or Bcmpnhus in its admis-
sions; and it is notorions that tbe Duke
never was a favourite with the people at
large, either of bis own country or of tbe
countries of the continent He identified
himself too closely with tbe interests of tbe
aristocracies of Europe for that It was
their battles he fought; be was their sup-
porter and abettor, and by tbem only is he
looked upon with sentiments either of esteem
or gratitude; and, if it were not so, his had
indeed been a thankless office. J. G. K. has
omitted to give a catalogue of tbe peculiar
services rendered by the Duke which have
placed the people of this country under such
an etern.ll weight of gratitude. It cannot
be his senatorial counsels, since these are by
all parties very timidly praised; so that it
must be his achievements in the field. Now,
beyond all question, this is a very equivocal,
nay, dan<;erous ground, on which to test his
claims to our esteem or admiration; for, if it
be insisted that his feats in India were such
as have never been surpassed, not even by
Marlborough, and that in his PeninsuUur
campaigns he vanquished in turn every
general sent to oppose him, and subsequently
their imperial master too, still the question
arises, Was he more than tbe instrument,
and would he have refused to conduct the
army in an unjust war? In this both nega-
tive and positive evidence is against him.
As an instance iu point, it would be difficult
to vindicate our aggressions on India, as a
question of right; and yet no man ever for-
warded these more ably than him of whom
we are now speaking. His expressed deter-
mination should not be forgotten bither, that
in the event of the Catholics of Ireland still
manifesting discontent after the measures
for their relief should be passed, be would
not hesitate to come down to parliament
and crave power to suppress it by forcible
means. The memorable 10th of April, 1848,
must be frt»>h in tbe recollection of our
readers.
Tbe indirect way in which it is attempted
to bring the Duke in as a religious man
deserves to be noticed. If the announcement
quoted be familiar, we are very certain that
his famous declaration that men who beU«t«
in the ^ew T«ftXKCCttT\\. \iw^ t» \s^\x«e^ xol
the army. V\\\\» «q^\^ H!BsKi«^%x^t«^
144
IS THE CIIAUACTER OK WELLWGTOX WOllTIlY OF AUMIKAT:. N
to connienct ftnj danger of mistaken views
being entertained regarding the religious sen-
timents of his grace.
lojudicious friends, it is said, are worse
than enemies; and we have another proof of
the correctness of the aphorism in the defence
which J. G. R. makes iu favour of the Duke —
a defence which detnictsfroni his reputation
for sagacity, instead of estabhshing it. It
is in the doctrines of the Catholic Church
that the greater danger resides, not in the
govemment of it; the other is »n argument
which now-a-days is obsolete. The opinion
of his grace on the com laws which is
quoted detracts still further, for never was
there a repeal granted more sincerely prized
by the country, or more heneficial to it, than
the repeal of the duties on the importation
of com; but he had not the clcHrheaded-
ness, the foresi^rht, to see prospectively its
operations; and hence his opposition.
It is very doubtful whether in his cam-
paigns his duty to his soverei<!n, not to go
higher, was the sole motive which actuated
him. ^Vc have very certain information
that he speculated not a little in the funds —
the funds for paying the cost of his own
wars. Now, any one who has observed the
fluctuations of the money market, and in-
quired into the causes of the rises and falls,
cannot but know that the successes and re-
verses of the army would materially sfTect
its firmness, and Wellington could not chooi»e
but mark this too; so that it was an eafv i
matter for him, by report or otherwise, to
durect affairs at the seat of war in such a
way as to enable him to buy in or to sell out
to advantage. It is, perhaps, an ungenerous .
inference, yet it is quite ]K>.isible that, but ;
for this cause, his canipui^nas would have
been of shorter duration, and of less expense
to the country. As this is a position, how-
ever, which from its privacy is not susceptible
of positive proof, we merely throw out the •■
idea of this being a cause likely to exercise
an unseen influence over his military career, j
It is very generally believed that as a ge-
neral he was invulnerable; but fmrtiality has
unquestionably done a great deal to gloss over
errors in combination and rashness in attack.
In pemsing the narrative of his life, we are
coDstMnDy n)eeting with accounts of engage-
meats bazarded ctmtre les ngks ; and, a\-
-'• must be admitted tlial succ^aa^
' = ' «"ftort8, BtiU l\\c^ «^Tt
not entitled to a higher oaoie than, at be^i,
** lucky blunders;" but partiality, which am
admit of no modification of pndse, acta thcK
down as ** felicitous aberrationa from militaiy
mle which it occasionally belongs to high
genius to make, and which men of ooounoo
minds would have unsuccessfully attempted."
Even in this light he manifested an indif-
ference— a culpable indifierence — ^for the
lives of his soldiery. He has been censored,
too, by very high authority for not foUowmg
up the successes which the chances of war
placed within his reach. Napier sayi of
him, *' In following up a victory, the Eogliih
general fell short of the French emperor.
The battle of Wellington was the stroke of a
battering-ram— down went the wall in mim^
the battle of Napoleon was the swell
dash of a mighty wave, before which thi
barrier yielded, and the roaring flood wen:
pouring onward, covering all.** The Earl
Suffolk says, in reference to the battle o^
Talavcra, "I cannot call that a victory
where a retreat immediately follows, and th^
wounded and the pri:<oners fall immediately
into the hands of the enemy. Even th^
capture of artillery is not, in all cirmm —
stances, to bo coubidered as a signal yictoT'.^
as it might be convenient to leave them oca
the field." Earl St. Vincent says, "Tb«
battle of Talavera, if a victory has been pur-
chased with the useless expenditure of oojr
best blood, has told to no advantage, and has
all the consequences of a defeat.** Of the
same engagement Lord Grenville beantifally
says, *' Gilded disasters are called tpleodid
victories; and the cypress that droope over
the tombs of our gallant defenders, whose
lives have been uselessly sacrificed, are to be
denominateil blooming hinrels."
Having quoti>d these anthoritica proftf-
sionals and contemporaries — we think it no-
necessary to insist formally on a more m-
souable estimate being taken of his talent*,
even in this his peculiar province, belicTing
that that will follow as a consequence.
We have only to repeat, then, tluit, althoo^
unsurpiijised as a commander of the feittf
and although not altogether without mer
as a statesman, even yet, when trietl by t
standard of tme greatness, which snppe
comprehensiveness of mind and unsol
morals united to an expansive philanthr
, ^^ Tvw;^ tvqX. wcj \\v3X ^aa \a found wanti'
OUGHT THE GRANT TO MAT»OOTH TO BE WITHDRAWN P
145
He wu the uistoeracj^s hero, both in the field i
aod in the parliament house; and at their '
instance, and by their inflaenoe, the titles
snd estateSi the places and pensions, were
granted as the reward of those services which
contributed to secure them in their immn-
nities and privileges. It was from an appre*
elation of this fact that his decease created
among the majority of the people so little
sensation : it needed the pageantry of a pnblic
faneral to finish consistently the adalation
which had been heaped upon him by his
titled debtors; bnt it was a display on which
tiie people looked with little satisfaction, for
he was not one of those whose names, being
associated with unwearying efforts in the
furtherance of popular privileges and popular
progress, are cherished in the memory of a
grateful countiy. Akistides.
J. G. R. indulges, to a large extent, in a rather
inelegant sort of ai]gumtint — a cheap mode of
refutation — one infinitely more easy than search-
ing for Jtects with which to rebut the statement of
an opponent. Permit me to cull one or two of
those graces of speech of which he is so boun-
teous. " He {'Aristides') places the mott illiberal.
SflJUhf and narrow-minded construction on all
his (the Duke's) aofis." ** One of the mo$t atro-
cious, and certainly one of the most untrus,
acciMolioas made by ' Aristides ' is...." And so on.
Now we submit that a more satisfactory way for
him — so far as his readers are ooneemed — would
have been, to bring forward counter-statements,
supported by facts, instead of permitting himself
to indulge in this sort of rabid rhetoric.
OUGHT THE GRAXT TO MAYNOOTH TO BE WITHDRAWN ?
KEOATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
I HAYB read over several times the arti-
cles on this debate in the la.st three numbers,
and regret that the editors should so soon
think of closing it, for there is plenty of
matter that could yet be called forth upon
this question : and all the shallow, bigoted,
and misconstrued arguments of " L'Onvrier,"
and J. C. M^Cy Jun., proved to be such . While
I admire the more noble and liberal senti-
ments of H. P. and J G. R., I would much pre-
fer that some one tutored by the Maynooth
priests had been heard. As such, and as a
recent subscriber to your periodical, and
anxious to take part in many a future de-
bate, I request the favour of having this
article insorted in your next number.
There are many arguments I might intro-
duce in favour of my side of this question;
but I think it more honourable to confine
myself to the disproving of the charges
already made against the endowment of
Haynooth.
Thanks to the good sense and feeling of
thu country, as evinced the other night in
the House of Commons by a majority in
favour of this question. But I should not \
have been much surprised if the votes had
been revened; for there is a strong demo-
cratic party rapidly extending, and resolved
upon having all grants from government to
religious institutions withdrawn. Let but
this class give some tangible proof that they
can succeed in severing church and state,
and then they will have the unanimous
support of all Catholics. But till then it
would be rather hard to expect that the
Catholics of this empire, who have been so
hardly dealt with these last 300 years by
their Protestant masters, and who are at
present forced, especially in Ireland, to pay
so largely for the support of a religion they
believe to be as false as their own is true,
should reject even this small pittance
(£26,360 per annum — see page 28 of this
journal), and which they value but little in
the light of £ a. d.^ but much as a mani-
festation of a more tolerant and less bigoted
spirit evinced towards Catholics. Wo look
upon it as an approach to " civil and reli-
gious liberty," though hackneyed the phrase
may be (page 62). Tes, I say, in contradis-
tinction to what is inserted in pages 29 and
112, there is no church more anxious that
its support should depend on the voluntary
contributions of its adherents than the
Catholic 'church. Well does it know that
10,000,001} of Ualhulici (oT pub Lrceil], at»l '
that tlie Protnlints tit leqntred ta mntri- t
bnta tbcir ifaar^ oT tbat £36,3G0. SarrW '. 1
''L'Oii»ri*r"ii «nflicien11j m»lli»in«tic«l tii ||
IiEi reltow-Protratuiti. It comes vet? nearl-- ' '
toons fartliinK per head fsi tnaaai. Uh, lio<
happr iroald tlic CalhoHcs of Ireland fcel-
jta, and Catliolic Europe too — if our porern
inent would Ibus deal witfa tliem. By re
ferrinf; to page 35. jou will And a paviap<
qnoled from tba " Edinburgh Review," Iba
pmra it is not <o. I bhall aaj nothing not
of tba many pariiJies in lieland ia wbicb a ' s
Fnittalant never lets liia foot unless as a ' f
traveller or on business, nor of Iboeo parishes i
irhare there is no mote of I'rotesliinliim i
than a charch and panonace. Surel; tliis i;
In tlie same pafie, 28, anolber char;:e is \ t
made respecting tbe tuck of bibles in ltJ:iG, e
and Id page 63 a tiinilar one. ilut in pu|:e c
36 we haie the jiiilure revened. I do I
Dot raeaa to say it is used as ■ mcrv .1
cUu-hook (as in the Protestant echook, I
and, when old, sold to and used by the !
. 1. — .i,.„ji„ ic.li it ia used as sa- c
OUGHT TUB OKAXT TO MAY3IOOTH TO BS WXTIIDRAWK ?
147
crimes in Um one are so much lens than in
the other, there niiat he some mighty influ-
«nce at work; and if he knew that religion
exerts the might ient inflnence on the huotan
inind, would be not at once attribute it to
that came? So mnch fur charge the fourth.
In page 29 comes the next charge, which
is oomI>ri^ed under the bead of herrar.
" L'Oavrier " and his supporters, in making
this charge, would do well to consider the
time, place, and circumstances, where such
threats against heresy were fulminated. That
•uch threats, or similar ones, were fulminated
In 1215, at the Council of Constance, I am
aware, and I can fairly compare them to
many an act of parliament, goud and neces*
sary in its day, but now obsolete. It may be
considered bad reasoning on my part to com-
pare the acts of an infallible church with a
fallible parliament; but 1 hliall briefly show
the reason. The council of 1215 w:ia rather
a congress of Christendom than sny thing else.
All the kin;:s and princes of Europe were
leprescnted by their amba.ssadors. AfTuira
of church and state had to bo regulated.
For there were spreading then a host of
people known as the Albigem>c8 and Mani-.
dieans, whose ol>ject was the ruin and
destruction of civil and religious Mxiety.
They believed in two Creators, two Christs ;
taught that their souls were demons, prohi-
bited marriage, with such-like vileness. To
pat down these, coercion was had recourse
to, threats were fulminated agninst them,
the civil power acceding thereto. Under
these circumstances the threats were put
into execution, and, with few exceptions,
never since : hence my reason for comparing
it to an obsolete act of parliament, in the
next part of the same para.<;raph Galileo b
instanced as punished for his improvement
in science. This is false, fur the Catholic
Chorch has ever encouraged science; and
ao far fnnn dreading it, she exalts in its
discoveries, and feels proud that her chil-
dren hold the most conspicuous place as
the inventors and discoverers of the most
impcfft&nt arts and sciences. However,
neither space nor place allow me to enlarge on
this particular; I must pass on to the next,
— respecting the expulsion of heretical
princes, and rettmg np in their stead ortho-
dox ones. This may be explained, like the
last, and takes its dafe Srom md earlier time,
trbeB mooMtebM bmd the Bunplicity to con-
sider the Pope their head in temporal at
well as spiritual matters — the popes being
canning enough to exercise such dominion
when invested with it. I might here state,
that when such power was withheld from
the Pope by Henry HI. of this country, he
never afterwards sought it : but, as regards
his spiritual sovereignty, he exercises in
every country in the world where Catholics
are found. 1 mu»t take leave of the first
affirmative article, and pass on to page 62.
''It is l\)pery makes Inland unhappy^
wretched, poor, ignorant^ and seditiotuJ*
Space necessarily prevents me from being as
prolix on each of these points as I could
wish. "Unhappy!" I wish J. C. M*C.,
Jun., defined unhappiness, or intimated
whether he meant temporal or spiritual
unhappiness; that he meant temporal — that
is, misery, wretchedness, poverty, and dis-
satibfdction — I have no doubt. Is he aware
the same people, professing the same " Po-
pery," as he chooses to call it, and located in
America and elsewhere,* are neither miser-
able, wretched, poverty-btricken, nor dissatis-
fied ; but are a happy, cheerful, prosperous,
and industrious people? Is it not, then,
manifest, that a bad government is the cause
of it, and not " Popery " ? Is it fair to charge
her with ignorance, when, for hundreds of
years, the English Prutestsnt government
of this country prohibited her teschers from
instructing them, under the penalty of
death, imprisonment, and fines? and, if I
mistake not, there even yet remains on
the statute-book a remnant of this enlight-
ened law. "Sedition!" Does J. C. M*C.,
Jun., really imagine that " Popery,** too,
should deprive them of feeling, and prevent
them, when the opportunity presents itself,
unloosing the shackles that so unjustly
bind them?
In the same page he ssys, "Secondly,** —
and gives us a quotation from the " Tablet**
newspaper, as illm>trating the immorality of
"Popery." What a blessing for J. C. MC^
Jun., that he lives in this immaculate coun-
try, and is preserved by the ties of Protest-
antism from communicstion with Popery!
He certainly must never look at a newspaper
(save the ** Tablet"), else he would almost
daily hear of criminal cases too abominable
to be published — at least so sa^ thft ^t^<ub\as)iw
• TYiVs emx've* «xficv\ft^.
148
OUGHT THE GRAHT TO IIATKOOTH TO BB WTTBDRAWir ?
newspapers. I fancy, too, he staffs wool in
his ears, else tbej would be pollated by
hlasphemies and imparities, as he traversed
these Protestant streets. No doobt, too,
bat he wears green glasses, so that his eyes
may not behold obscenities. And I woald
rather be inclined to think, that it was from
a certain trial, lately concluded, he learnt
that " priests " (rather, a priest) " pour lan-
guage that cannot be spoken into the ears of
the young and beautifol." He concludes
the paragraph with — '* Verily he was a troe
limner that described Rome as the ' Mother
of harlots, and the abomination of the
earth 1"* Sorely he must not have been
aware that there are at the present day
only 80,000 such mothers in London alone,
with their numerous accomplices and sup-
porters. Nor shall I say aught here of the
purity of the town of Oxford, or advert to
the cause of it Neither will I compare it
to the unstained character of the town of
Maynooth — ^the seat df the Irish priesthood.
So much for the purity of Protestantism.
I have already noticed the remaining
part of bis charges; and as space lacks me,
I must bid my friend, J. C. hVCj Jan.,
good-bye, and again engage " L'Ouvrier,"
whose remarks this time are peculiarly
shallow; and I find no objection worth
noticing until I come down to the "^ Tablet,"
page 115, where manifestly he misconstrues
the passages, and confounds spiritual alle-
giance with temporal allegiance. In the
one, we are bound to the church, and thereby
to the Pope, the head of that church on
earth ; in the other, there is no obligation to
the Pope whatever.
The next charges respecting heresy and
persecution I have already noticed. In
conclusion, I apologize for the space I have
occnpied, and beg to assure my readers, that
it is the love of truth that has actuateid me
in my remarks. Stanislaus.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
I AM glad to find the subject now under
discussion considered in the controversial
portion of this magazine. With delight have
I read the articles/>ro and con. ; and the prin-
ciples of " L'Ouvrier" especially call forth my
admiration. I can perceive much beauty and
justice in the theory of the voluntary prin-
ciple with regard to religion, and cannot but
condemn the compulsory manner by which
the church-rates are extorted from persons
who conscientiously disapprove of the govern-
mental part of the Church of England. It
is well, 1 think, that controversial subjects
should be considered in every phase and in
every view; and it is from coinciding with
the ancient maxim, ^Qui statuU eUiqutd,
parte inaudita attem, aquum licet ttatuerit^
haud equm estj" that I now view and argue
the endowment of Maynooth in the aspect of
the governmental recognition of a section of
the church, and the support of that section
bj the fetate.
The negative writers have argued the sub-
ject as if Ireland stood alone, and formed a
kingdom by itself; now this is positively in-
correct, whatever they may desire. Ireland
ought to be considered only as a portion of
the kingdom of " Great Britain and Ireland."
Ireland is but an integrant with Scotland
and England, forming the integral whole.
This is the error which both X. and H. P.
have fallen into, and which forms the basis
of their argnmeuL If it were de facto cor-
rect that Ireland was independent and iso-
lated, and governed itself, and the legislators
recognised and supported the religious tenets
of the minority, then I should as thoroughly
oppose such a proceeding, and condemn it as
the height of injustice. In the preliminarr
remarks of J. G. B. I entirelj agree, and
regret greatly that so much animosity and
hatred should have been produced from the
injudicious zeal and warmth of many Protes-
tants. I myself respect the theories and
principles of all sensible men, and hope I can
calmly hear and reason with a man who holds
principles diametrically opposed to my otm.
The world and society are certainly improv-
ing, for we find many who do not take apoa
themselves to class all those who differ fnxa
them in opinion as holding bona fide error.
In fact, what man in his senses has the aa-
dacity to put forward such an assumpttoo?
I propose to consider this question with one
admission, Ce., that it is wise and ezpcdioit
for the government of this country to recog-
nise and support a religion ; ther^ore I shall
not argue the question before ns as a reli-
gious, but purely as a political one.
The present condition of affairs in the
OUGHT TR« GRAWT TO IfATNOOXH TO BE WITHDRAW:!?
149
United Kingdom is on this wise: — The legis-
lative body consists of monarch, lords, and
commons; the latter of these is chosen from
the electors, who comprise tho upper, middle,
and a great proportion of the lower, classes;
the two former are filled under the law of
prim<^enlture. These three forming a
government, recognise and unite with a sec-
tion of the church, and call upon the people
to support that section, and this they con-
sider most wise and expedient. The reasons
for the adoption of such a policy are the fol-
lowing:— That, bj recognising and associat-
ing with, and as a consequence assisting, a
religion, the government will be established
on a firmer and more truthful basis; for it is
a law, that whatever a man, or a set of men,
worship or admire, he or they will become
assimilated to its character. The doctrines
of the evangelical portion of the Church
of England are admired by the majority
of the people; therefore the association of
the state with it stamps the character of the
government, and it compels the people to
snpport that church, in order that they might
provide for the religious wants of the people,
so that the poorest subjects may have the
opportunity of becoming acquainted with the
truth, and thus people and government work
and prosper together in beauteous harmony.
This is the principle of the present govern-
ment, and they have recognised that religion
which has by far the greater number of ad-
herents in the kingdom. The number of
persons in the United Kingdom who hold the
Protestant principles exceed those who adhere
to the Roman Catholic faith by two to one ;
therefore it is but politic and right that those
principles should be supported which are held
by the great majority of the people.
Now, providing it be granted that the
principle of the union of state and church is
expedient and wise in the present state of
society, the question arises, Ought the grant
to Mavnooth to be withdrawn? This is the
aspect in which I have placed the subject,
and it is certainly the most favourable one
for our opponents. In answer to the question,
permit me to say, that (although a strong
advocate for civil and religious liberty, for
eqnity and justice being dealt out to all
parties, irrespective of creeds) it is my un-
biassed opinion that the grant to Maynooth
should be withdrawn, and that for the follow-
ing reasons :— 1st That the principles Uught
at Maynooth have a tendency to destroy, and
are in every way antagonistic to, the exis-
tence of the government which grants the
annual endowment. Sorely it cannot be con-
sistent with sound policy for the legislature
to assist and encourage that^ which, if suc-
cessfal, would tend to its own downfall.
If yon ask me for proof of this assertion, I
would direct your attention to the aggressive
character which men educated at that college
took in the insurrectionary movement, as well
as the ultramontane doctrines which they
hold. Another and more recent proof exists
in the fact that, at the late election for Car-
low borough, Mr. Sadlier, a Roman Catholic,
was rejected for taking ofiSce under the
government of the Earl of Aberdeen; and,
moreover, was displaced by one of the fol-
lowers of Mr. Disraeli. Does not this prove
their hostility to any government not holding
the doctrines of the Papacy?
2ndly. I object to the grant to Maynooth
in consequence of the doctrines contained in
the class-books of the college and taught
and enforced on the pupils. The following
are a few specimens: — That, under certain
circumstances, it is lawful to steal. That,
for a just cause, it is lawful to swear with
equivocation. That it is right and good to
/I'e, if by so doing it would be beneficial to
the interests of the church. Servants are
advised to obtain situations in the families of
Protestants, as ProtettantSy in order that
they may have the opportunity of convert-
ing some members of the family. And
even murder, in some cases, is deemed jus-
tifiable. In fact, the following law gives
latitude for the commission of all and the
worst of crimes, and attempts to justify them :
— ** Everything must be sacrificed for the
interest of the church; an oath is binding on
the conscience no longer than is consistent
with the interests of the church; and faith
is not to be kept with here tics, if the interests
of tho church require the obligations of faith
to be disregarded.'* These are my reasons
for thinking that the grant to Maynooth
ought to be withdrawn; and yon, reader, will
find that I do not call in question the Roman
Catholic faith, but have argued it purely as
a political and social question, and should, in
the same way, oppose a grant to a Protestant
college, if its managers permitted the pro-
mulgation of their doctrines by similar dis-
honest means. I look unon the endowment
150
rOKTRT: WHAT IS IT ?
of Maynooth as an eudowment fur the propa-
gation of vice, and believe the principles
ennmerated above not only calculated to
jooi>ardize the well-being of roan, but di-
rectly opposed to the harmonious working of
society.
To the readers I leave to decide whether
they approve of the legislature appropriating
a portion of the public money to enikfa t
section of society who hold and carry oat (as
far as lie in their power) the principle, tbit
the end justifies the means ; or, in otlirr
words, and in the broadest sense, of doing
evil that good may come, I myaelf do nnt
approve of thisi, and therefore bold the
affirmative of thiji question. A. S.
Cjit ^nrittits' lirtinn,
POETRY: WHAT IS IT?
MusnCG by the side of a rippling brook one beautiful summer's eve, while jet in oar
" teens,** we asked ourselves (as thousands bad asked themselves before), "WTiat is poetry''"
and Memory — "blest Memory"— supplied us with the following definition: — "All thst i*
good, beautiful, or heroic in this our world, is poetry. All tlut the ideal soul thinks of tf>
elevating tone and character, is poetry. All that bright spirits* deepest and most inteo.*^
sentiments, afiections, and feelings, are poetry. All that is, or ever has been, achieved b^'
man, worthy of record — all the monuments of thought and action handed down to as fros^
the dim past, an) the spirit of the beautiful acting upon and working in man. Poetr^
may be termed the beautiful, as this is the source or fountain of all tme and living
poetry — the palpably and the ideally beautiful— the beautiful in thought and in action."
We pondered over this definition, wondering if it were the true one, or simply the brigb^
fancying of some wanton genius! and, as our custom is, we sought for some further cr^
additional testimony. Memory came again to our aid, and carried us back to some of oo^
old familiar authors, who in imagination thus addressed themselves to us: — " It apfieareth,
said Bacon, " that poetry serveth and conferreth to magnanimity, morality, and to del^c^
tation." " Nature,** said Sir Philip Sydney, ** never set forth the earth in so rich tspwtit
as divers poets have done, neither with so pleasant rivers, fruitful trees, sweet-smelliD»
flowers, nor whatever may make the too much loved earth more lovely. Natare*8 eaitb i>
brazen, the poets only deliver a golden one.** " In every nation,** said the learned SbaiQO
Turner, " poetry is the child of feeling;** while Hazlitt stated, " that to it has been ginB
the homage of pre-eminence." That elegant and refined writer, Dr. Blair, defined it »
"the language of passion, or enlivened imagination;** while the celebrated orientalist, Sr
W. Jones, considered "original or native poetry to be the language of violent pasiico
expressed in exact numbers, with strong accentuation and significant words ;** and stst^
Dr. Johnson f«ir more felicitously described it as being " the art of writing pleasure titb
truth, by calling imagination to the aid of reason.** OtJier voices joined in the cbontfi
and declared poetry to be "the marriage of truth with beauty** — ^''the music of yafOffi
Mud inuigioation addressed to the understanding and the heart** — ^^the high-wii«gb<
entbaaiMm of fancy and feeWngJ' ox ^^ \Vvft ^%«>^ mA ^wwaX. ^^ssw of the heart's wikle*
etnothna Wended in one phase, one cotustaWo^ ^^ cxc\^v«x^\w^\t«»,T
poetry: what m it? 151
Bts themflelves next followed, and lent us thair testunonj. Here is one,
" Poetry U itself a tbing of God ;
He made hU prophets poets ; and the more
We feel of poe»7 do we become
Like God in lore and power."
" The world is full of glorious likenesses.
The poet's power u to sort these out,
And to make musio from the common strings
With which the woiid is strung, to make the dumb
Earth utt^ heavenly harmony, an<i draw
Life clear and sweet and harmless as spring water
Welling its way through flowers."
snmes the strain: —
** Call it not vain. They do not err
Who say, that when the poet dies
Mute Nature mourns her worshipper,
And celebrates his obsequies ;
Who say, tall clifT, and cavern lone,
For the departed bard make moan ;
That'moiuituins weep in crystal rill ;
That flowers in tears of balm distil ;
Through his loved groves the breezes sigh.
And oaks in deeper groan reply ;
And rivera teach their rushing wave
To murmur dirges round his grave.'*
and other recollections rush upon us : —
" The poet, to the end of time.
Breathes in his works, and lives in rhyme."
** Poets are all who love — who feel great truths.
And tell them.'*
*' Poets, who on earth havl made us heirs
Of love and truth by their immortal lays."
** Poets are, henceforth, the world's teachers."
his be true of poetry and poets, we thought, how is it that the former is not
•eper studffj or that the latter hare been so poorly rewarded; or, indeed, so
r neglected? We felt there must be a delusion somewhere. We resolved to
he matter for ourselves ; and from that hour we have made the poets our study,
ask, reader, what is the result? We will tell you. We have found the poets
of life, love, beauty, and truth; and their misfortunes have constituted one
' their greatness ; for many of them have literally and truly
** Learned in suffering what they taught in song."
ound poetry to abound in noble inspirations, to overflow with the milk of human
lad to be the especial vehicle of " great thoughts."
" I*oetry is
The grawhst clian'ot in whi;h ku ^-Ihou^KU T'vde.**
152 POETET: WHAT 18 IT?
" Who oftn mistake great thoaghts ?
They seize upon the mind — arrest, and search.
And shake it— bow the tall soul as by wind-
Rush over it, like rivers over reeds.
Which quaver in the current— torn us cold,
And pale, and voiceless, leaving in the brain
A rocking and a ringing — ^glorious.
But momentary madness might it last.
And close the soul with heaven as with a seal/'
Most heartily, then, do we commend tbe study of poetry to onr readers. We trost they
may derive the same ** amusement, instr action, and delight" that we hare experlencedi
•and well will they be repaid for what, at first, they may deem a sacrifice of time.
After thus heartily commending the study of poetry, we will not conclude withoat
offering a little suitable, and we may say practical, advice.
When we advocate the " study of poetry," we mean that it should in reality be made a
stvdy. We have known those who have merely read poetry, and therefore have derived
no advantage from it To such, indeed, it has proved a positive injury; for, carried away
by the day dreams in which poets are wont to indulge, such mere reader* fsli poetry become
unsettled, visionaiy, and impractical, and therefore by no means better fitted for the
practical world in which we live. This is the abuse of poetry. ** Poetry has to do with
the common feelings and sympathies of men; it bears, subjectively, through these, on the
actual life of the individual, moulding it, and informing it, and giving it directioo and
impetus. In proportion to the number of individuals on whom it thus acts, and the
degree of power which it brings to bear upon them, it afiects in like manner the cooditioii
and progress of communities." Poetry must, therefore, be made a study, m order that tiie
benefits which it is capable of conferring may be fully attained.
** Of the five divine sisters— divine and mortal at once, like man himself," says a
modem writer — " Poetry is the most familiar, and may be accepted as the type. Her
utterance is in song, which she gives forth from inspiration;" and he proceeds to quote
Shelley, who says, ^ Poets are the hierophanta of an unapprehended inspiration ; tbe
mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present; the words whidi
express what they understand not; the trumpets which sing to battle, but fieel not what
ihey inspire." From this we may infer that even the poets themselves scarcely AiDj
understand their own mission, so great is it. But another writer completes the pctoR,
by representing the poet as " standing at the altar, rapt, holy, impassioned, prophet-lik(,
giving utterance to the inarticulate yearnings, feelings, and wants of his brethren; ea-
bodying their tendencies, mirroring all, and mirrored in all, the age produces; and tli«
myriad hopes and fears that sway the minds of men breaking forth finom his lips in pu-
slonate music." Can we conceive a higher vocation? Let us, then, commend more faB;
to our readers the productions of
** Nature's true sods, the fiiends of man and truth,**
the poets of the present and past ages. C, W., Jrv.
BB70RT8 OF MUTUAL IMPR0VKME9T SOCIETIES.
153
BEPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPBOVEMKNT SOCIETIES.
li rtMingkam Debating Socirly. — J>i»cunaion
on th^ Iit-es1abli$hment of the Frrnch Empire.
—A Y*(i(>lio mceUng of this society wm held
on Fri'lav eveninjr, January 2H, IKVi, Arch-
aeacon Sondford in ihe chair. The subject
lur tli.sca.H«i«in was, " Whether the Ke-establiih-
ment of the Empire was likely to he beueficial to
Thtr. debate was commenced hy Dr. Heslop, in
the iiilinnative, who contended that France would
ni»t have the Bourbons, and was unfit for con-
stitutional ^>femnient; quoted fh>ro the Memoirs
ff Mullet du Pau an<l from Alison, to prove
that the Bourbons hail lost all influence in
France ; and to show the unfitnesi of France for
«^n4tilutional government, referred to the late
rtvoluiio:! ; contended tliat no one in Europe
had Wuer right to govern France than Louis
^upoleon; tliat he ha^l the privilege of an
lUuAtrioua name, and was thrice elected by seven
lOLllious of the people ; that if a people was con-
**'***d with its government, its happiness and
pro4j>erity were secured ; denied tliat the con-
««"'Plion had di<«guste<l the French with the
empire, but that its evils bad been forgotten by
* r ?^*^'7 **^ ^^ ^^^ Napoleon and the victories
<*■ the empire. He would not defend tli« recent
ciiftn^jr,;, if lie thought it detrimental to the ulti-
°**|* Jiberty of F" ranee ; but he regarded it as
Pff'^^Uinnry to the freedom France would here-
, *r ®*Uoy. France only wanted a limo of order
»o «*v«iop the improvements of the last sixty
^f**^ ; and he crmduded by remarking that he
«>« n rit fear an invasion of these shores : thai he
"**! ^^nbounded laith in the power of England ;
^".^i-iatif Louis Napoleon should land iii Enp-
'*****• tlie English would achieve a victory which
wouK;! uotpijg before the greatest which France
"*•*!» G. Dixon responded, and admitted, to a
«-enA.iT^ extent, that the Bour>K>n tlyna^ly had
^wrti itnelf out ; that it had displayed lamentable
•J'^^'P^kdty : but he diil not admit that no future
***"**** "on could rule France well. He referred to
tue «l»^ice of the younger branch of the Bourbon
'•™**y , in tlie person of Louis Philippe ; he on-
AidAtVci the rulers of France had not tujen strong
•^5*^^11 to keep down the mob of Pari*, and that
^** Had been the main cause of their failures.
*^' ^\*X not admit tiie unfitness for con<>titutioual
^*^*,^3'""*'^l of a people who had done so muuh
"'' *i*>erty; he contender! tliat the Bonrbims
*fT* ex)>elled because they attacked Ui»! oonsti-
*^'*On uf ^^ countrr. Ue admitted that the
'*^**t revolution had failed, and considered it
^^•urprising that an ultra-republican govem-
'''*^^* did not succeed, but contended that a pure
^J'^^titutional government had yet to be tried.
r|*/l»d not think it likely that the present ilege-
j~*^tQ Bonaparte would accomplish anything
""•* *hai which the great mind of \hi first Uona-
•T*^'^^ suggetted, and his energy achieve<l. lie
|\^*^i.lered the great difficulties of France were
1?^ Compulsory 8u)>-divisions of the land ; the
^I'^lee of landed gentry , and of tlie middle class,
r^ Understood in England; tlie Avs^tem of cen-
l[^i-«ation ; tlie number of officials at the dis-
' ■^•l of tlie central power; tbeimmennc anny, a
^"^t eanc to Fnnee, a§ to many other con-
tinental nations ; the domination of the priests,
who were in the pay of the government, and
educated the people; the government bad not
been blessed with large-minded and disinterested
men. He contended that the empire deprived
the people of the political power which they pos-
sessed—even under Louis Philippe; that the
government wa-i utterly ignorant of the true prin-
ciples of finance ; that it had established the credit
niobilier to supply money at really less than it
was worth ; that France was going backward, her
expenses were increasing, and her debt increasing
too; that the press was gagged, and had leaa
power than imder the r^tjime of the Bourbons;
that the empire was a svstera of universal retro-
gression ; that the head of the government was
extremrly iielfish and unprincipled, or he would
not have attempted to excite civil war by bis ex|>e-
ditions to Siras))urg anil Boulogne ; that be was
a man of pleasure chiefly, a man of most tenacious
will ; that such a man at tlie bead of such a nation
was dangeroas to the peac(> of F'ranee and of the
world ; that he had conceived and matured plans
which he bHd now the power to achieve ; and that,
to retrieve his falling fortune*, he would sacrifice
the interests of F'ranee, and aie war as the last
means to keep him on the throne.
Mr. T. P. Salt considered that the private ch»>
racter of Louis Napoleon had |Mrr s^ nothing to do
witli the qu&stiim ; showed that France had ex-
pelled the Bourbon younger, as well as the elder
branch ; showed that the F'rench bad rqeoied the
roid<lle course ; that France required a strong
government, which the republican form did not
afford. Instability was the chief characteristic or
the French , and a strong government was required
to enforce tlie view s of the mi^jority ; and their
stringent and most despotic governments had been
the most permanent, while the republican phases
had not lasted long. The first violent, and the
last more pacific, n^volutiou had failed ; France
was divided into five parti(.-s, who struggled for
; the mastery ; the lost rei>ublic failed fW>ni weak-
ness, and a strong government could alone suc-
ceed. The Journalism of France was well repre-
sented in the chambers, and the newspapers con-
tained tiie raoxt demoralizing matter, which was
extensively difTiised, and had a most ii\iuriou8
effect on the pei»ple. The LcgitimiNts and the
Urleanists had joined to vote for Louis Napoleon
in order to prevent tlie triumph of Keil Ilepub-
licanism and the anarchy which would ensue.
I Mr. J. A. Langford denied that the Socialist
publications were tlie tnie representatives of the
j people of F'ranee ; showed that the vices of the
' rubers descended to the people; remarked that
I<ouis Na|K>lcon bad had extreme Socialist opin-
; ions, and uo man had done more to pro]mgate the
' doctrines which Mr. Salt had denounced. He
; rrferre*! to the works of Schnrbcr and Victor
Hugo to prove that more votes were announced
than could have been given ; described tlie method
by which tlte votes were obtained ; and denied
' that Louis Napoleon had been elected by the
I pei>ple's free will. Louis NaiH>Ieon had violated
! liis most solemn oaths ; had exiled all the great
men of France ; 1i\V\e(V e"v«rf xA^ict "w\^ :3kv».vJS>ak
and prieata; ha*\ vXaced aot«L« ot Vi\« ^ot^v "W«^
around him ; Uad |tAg^& \\vtt ijT«*%,%si\T«ttA«««»
154
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMEKT SOCIETIES.
the condition of the people worse than it had ever
been before.
Mr. Buckton considered that Louis Napoleon
was likely to cany out his uncle's plans, fW)ni
which hiH probable conduct miglit be inferred.
The increase of the navy was preliminary to the
extension of the French boundaiy to th<> Khinc.
The empire was elective, and Louis Napoleon
might abdicate or he might he ex]>ellcd. lu this
respect the em])ire had an advantage over the
other forms. He claimed Louis Napoleon as a
free trader, the only French monarch who was
disposed to carry out the lais$ez /aire syMtem :
and he hoped that the unity between England
and France would be long maintained.
On the motion of Mr. J. P. Turner, seconded
perpetrated any great act of cruelty or immorality.
He next contended that the peace and prosperity
of a nation were not dependent so much upon the
character of the head of the govemmmt as uptm
the religious principles pervading the people. In
conclusion. Dr. Nelson aaid that Napoleon
having, during his msideuce in this countiy.
neces.virily imbibed English ideas, tliey «borild
look forward to his conferring aome sub«tantU)
benefits on society, and to his attempting iomt of
those reformations which were eharacti^stic of
tills country. He therefore belieTed his rei.:ii
would prove l»eueficial to France. — Mr. C. 1.
Saunders followed in the negative. Every govers-
ment should be connidered in relation to thf yfo-
pic upon whom it was to operate. For nation»^
by Mr. W. Harris, the debate was at^joumed to i emerging fl-om barharism a despotic govrrunvml
Thursday the 10th proximo ; and after a few ob- I was perhaps best, but for a civilized nation tbt
aervations by the chairman, the meeting dispersed.
The debate appeared to afford much satisfaction
to the numerous audience, wlto fVvqucntly testified
their approbation by loud applause.
The a(\joumed debate on the question,*' Whether
the Re-establishment of the Empire in France
under Louis Napoleon would prove beneficial to
thatCountry 7' was resumcil on Thursday evening,
February lOrh, in the Philosophical InRtitulion,
the Veil. Ai'chdeacon Sandford in the chair. The
discussion was re-opened by Mr. J. P. Turner,
who supported tlie negative view of the subject,
contending that all civilized nations were better
fitted for a free than for a despotic government, and
that the French were especially suited to a fnt
government. Would it not be a contradiction to say
that the French nation, which was in the ran of
civilization, was unfit for the govemmentbest suit,
ed to civilization ? Tlie French under the first
Napoleon enjoyed a larger shore of liberty than
under any former ruler, and during his reign were
advancing in the right direction. But what was the
g resent Napoleon 7 The whole course of his life
ad shown him to be a wretched imitator of his
uncle. The people had had fitiy yearn of progres-
aive development, and had arrived at a tmer ap-
?reciation of liberty since the time of the first
Tapoleon ; and was it to be supposed that they
would now ceas0 their endeavours to obtain that
liberty 7 With re«pect to the election of Louis
Nupoieon ; even if he had been the choice of the
nutiou. it only amounted to this, that the peofile
had made a mistake in aelectinff Louis Napoleon'a
govemmrnt as one which would give them liberty.
When they found out their mistake they would
upsf.t his government. It might be depended on
Uiat the Frenoli, having once tasted the sweets of
liberty, would not sit down quietly under the rrign
of despotism. — Dr. Nelson gave the reasons
M'hich would induce him to vote in the affirmative
on the i]ucstion under diACus^iun. He thought
the French, weakened by party and faction, and
unwilling again to submit to the rule of the Bour-
bons, were justified in their election of Louis Na-
poleon, who, besitfes pos«(es^ing a name which
commanded the afiVrctions of the ]»eople, was be-
lieve<i to be the only man who could revive their
military glory. Dr.*Nel»on c<intended tliat it was
impossible that the votes for Louis Napoleon could
have been /al^ified to such an extent as to mate-
necessity for a fiee government must beappaneot.
He contended that the return of the BourliOiw to
the throne of France was not impossible, as the
revolution of ITtK) was not causeti by disgutt at
the Bourbon family, but of the aristocracy. He
pn)teste<l against the foundation of an empire
upon the destroyed liberties of a nation and an
alliance with the Jesuila, and alao protestri
against France, while labouring under the gi|raiH
tic evils of centralization, receiving as Ler roler
the man most interested in the support of tbat
principle. Itwa» imp<)ssible that a go^'ermmmt
of a retrogressive character, founded upon b& olw
solete idea of military glorv, and with sucfa a
ruler, could have a beneficial influence upon the
nation. — Mr. Jabet directed his obserraiiooi to
the incjuiry. " What fbrm of government was b*st
suited to the French people?" and eonteixkd
that tlie (]uefttion was intimately connected iritb
that of races. The Celtic race bad iuvaritbly
shown itself incapable of constitutional govern-
ment, and had always prospered bettifr ixndn
a strong despotic rule than under a fkee goven-
ment The French people were sprang Ihan
that race, and had always shown tbenMelvesaDfit
for self-government: and he believed that Ike
system established by Napoleon was thtf bert
suiteil to the French nation. — Mr. R. Wrixfat, io
the negative, controverted the statement that thr
Celtic race had uniformly proved to be unfit (9
govern themselves. France, under the constin'
tional government of Louis Philippe, had beenne
a commercial country. It was not aurpriBH
that Louis Napoleon was elceted when it vs*
remembered how the vot« were taken.— !&•
Salt, in reply, said that the question bad bcc"
argued upon comparisons instituted with tbi*
country, which was not a fair mi^ of tnfliini^
it. He then controverted the arininients used by
the crentlemen supportintf the other view of dit
question, and reiterated his conviction that tte
reign of Louis Napoleon would mult in the pr^
mauent benefit of the French ualion.— Mr. ▼•
Harris also made some remarica suppordnf the
negative view of the question, and was fdlovd
by Dr. Heslop. who closed the diseussioo bf •
very able reply to the principal argummti of
his opponents : and contended tbat Lonb Kv<^
Icon's government was the most likely to kaa to
the establishment ofpermanciitlibertylbr Fran'''
but before that happy result waa attained, a stfoa^
rittllr affect Qie immense mi^iorily he obVaitied ;
atifl in derence of S&po\eonn characteT,TCTnaTV<fA \ \\mv«\ ww t^^^vvved to overooine (ketion. and F*-
that while he had never dialiiicuished \umw\t Xj'S \ttvo\ft WWj ,^«^<»^wv\ wiwt. The <|iMstion wtf
mjijr great met for the public good, he \i«A ueNBt\x\i€u \>>x\ Vi ^i^* ^%wTt5ft\,,«A «a*A\^tl*
REPORTS or MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOC1ETIK8.
155
Df gttive by a small m^oritf.— A vote of thanks
to th« reoerable ehainnan, moved by Mr. W. 8.
Allen, and seeondtid by Dr. Heslop, terminated
the proceedings.
yttecoMtk-upan^Tffne Diaeu$9um Society.—
A few enterprising young men have commenced
a discassion class under the above name at No. 6,
Market^treet. as a preliminary step to still further
sHvanoes in the eauM of intellectual progression.
Wherever we look, we see that intelligence is
making permanent and rapid advancement It
is the cfaaracceristie feature of the tiroes. The
epoch of war as an amusement is past, and people
sre no w awakening ttoxa the sanguinary halluoina-
tJon to aoonsciousness of the absurdity of their past
actions, and the necessity for present amendment
Oratory, in particular, has many enthusiastic
students, all animated probably, like ourselves,
with the healthy ambition of commanding at will
the *' applause of listeuiug senates ; " and, ac-
cordingly, instrad of the taTcm, small tenements,
treatises on public speaking and debate, Brituh
('OHlrover$ioli$tM, and elements of elocution,
V9 in |p«at requisition. The prevalence of the
epidemic, added to its eminent adaptation for
jutellectual recreation, must be our plea for aJd-
inn one nu>re to the already numerous institutions
for its encouragement If examples of the power
of eloquence are desired, we need only examine
history. Themistocles, Pericles, and the per-
fidious Alcibiades, are indebted to their oratory
fur the prominent position they hold in the history
of Greece, and ai« only rivalled by, because less
virtuous than , Aristides. Shakspeare's inimitable
play of " Julius Cnsar," while it exemplifies the
iirkleneas of the Roman canaille ^ is also highly
illustrative of the power of eloquence; and the
patriotic harangues of Brutus, and the impas-
sioned oratory of Antonv, there given, are de-
serving of the study of all who value histrionic
display. These men performed greater wonders
wi^ their tongues than did the greatest of war-
riors with their swords. And may not even these
be equalled? The emulation is noble, and the
young men forming this society ho)^ in a few
nionus to be able to give a triumphant afflrroa-
ttve. We hare, at present, no Cioeros among us,
tbou|^ we have several embryo Demostheueses,
>«ho need only an indulgent hearing and a little
siimolatiug applause to act as did the sun-tints
upon the statue of old, to cause them to come
furtU iu all the luxuriance of their admirable pro-
pirtion.H. Great anxiety and uneasiness was
Closed by the ominous nature of our first subject,
*' Will England decay as did the great nations of
antiquity f* but at the conclusion of the discus-
sion, notwithstanding tlie elaborate erocitaiions
to the contrary, no anticipation of decay was ex-
perienced either for the nation, or, least of all, for
the society.— J. H.
Newport Young Men» Society. — ^The first an-
niversary ot this society was held on Thursday,
the 17ib of February, in the Independent Chapel.
Upwards of SOO persons sat down to tea and des-
sert Subsequently the Uev. 8. Fairley, president
of the societv, after a few introductory remarks,
called upon the secretary, Mr. 6. Baillie, to read
the re^rt of the last year's proceedings, ttom
which it appeared that the results of the society's
operations were very encouraging. The society
wtt-t dimmenoed in the beginning of last year by
about a dozen young men zealous in the work of
mental improvement; since then the numbers
have increased to upwards of thirty. During the
past year upwards of fourteen essayrs have been
read by the members on various subjects, among
which were the following : — ** The Scenery of our
Village and Neighboumood;" "Difference be-
tween Animals and Vegetables;" "Improvement
of Time ;" " Motions of theEarth," &o. Numerous
discussions have taken place upon the following
questions:— "Ought Capital Punishments to be
Abolished ? " " Are Tavern-keepers Promotera of
Iniquity, Robben of Society ; and, as such, ought
they to be denounced and stigmatixed by all true
PatrioU,PhUanthn>pisu, and Christians 7" " Whe-
ther has the Poet or the Legislator been of most
benefit to Mankind ? " " Is it Impiety for Legis-
lators to endow Religion 7 " " Is Universal Suffrage
just or desirable?" ** Was it the Policy of Louis
Philippe that caused the French Revolution?"
" Is Man the Child of Circumstances? " " Is Con-
science aTrue MonitorofRigbtaiidWrongin every
case ;* " Specimens of original poetry have also
been given by some of the members. Lectures
have been delivered on" The Means and Resouroea
of Knowledge," by the Rev. D.Thompson ; "The
Steam-Engine," by Mr. Roy, mathemai ical teacher,
Dundee public seminaries ; " The Mutesty of the
Solar System," by Thomas Dick, LL.D. ; " Nine-
veh : its History — its Remains — its Lessons," by
the Rev. N. M acleod. A manuscript msffAxine has
also been established by the society. The report
concluded by urging the members to renewed
efforts in the behalf of the society. Interesting
and able addresses were then delivered by the
Rev. D.Thompson, on "The Gold Regions of
Australia ;" the Rev. T. Just, on " The Importance
of Young Men holding Right Views and Senti-
ments;" the Rev. N. Macleod, on "Decision of
Character;" and by two of the members— Mr. J.
Kidd, on " The Present Condition and Prospects
of the Society," and Mr. J. Smith, on " Progress."
A vocal choir contributed much to the ei\joyment
of the evening, and the meeting separated at a
late hour. — J. K.
Motikton Young Men 9 Literary Society. — The
thint quarterly meeting of this society took place
in the parish schoolroom of Monktou on the
evening of Saturday, the 6th ultimo — Mr. 8.
Cowan in the chair. The secretory read his re-
port for the last quarter, lh>m which it appeared
that five new membera had been admitted, and
that the following sul^ects had been debated : —
" Is the Moderate Use of Alcoholic Liquors iqjn>
rious?" 'Whether is the Miter or Profiifcate-
moAt ii^urious to Society 7" " Whether is the First
or Last Six Months of the Year most Pleasant
and Cheerful 7 " " Has Machinery benefiU d the
Working Classes 7 " The treasurer then pre^euted.
his statement; alter which Uie meeting proceeded
to the election of the following otlice-beare>n : —
Messrs. S. Cowan, chairman; 6. Smith, vice-
chairman ; R. Strathdee, secretary ; and P. Pater-
son, treasurer ; witli a committee.
Frogmore, l)evon9hire^ Mutual Improve .tent
Society.— Th\» society is one of the many daily
springing up in the remote villa'^tes of this coun-
ty. A few persons of the neiKhbourhood, de-
ploring the vast amount of ignorance prevailing
therein, and the want of means for mental im-
Sroveraent, called a meeting in December last,
f r. William Percy took the chair, who called on
Mr. R. Couch to explain the object of Oiemeeting,
156
THE INQUIRER.
viz., the formation of a matual improTement
society. Atier a few remarks ttota the chairman,
eleven members were mroUed, and a president,
vice-president, secretary, treasurer, and coromittre
of manai|;emei t, were fleeted. Rules and regula-
tions previously drawn up were then submitted,
an<l, with a few exceptions, approved of and
adopted. But a difficulty seemed to arise in the
want of a suital'le place for meeting in, but that
difficulty was speedily overcome by Mr. Prit«,
the president, kindly offering tlie British school-
room, which w as tliankfUlly accepted. The mem-
bers meet every alternate Monday for the discus-
sion of literary and scientific subiects, and the
delivery of lectures, &o. A small library has
also been formed for circulation, in which the
Briti$h ControvenioUst occupies a conspicuous
place. The society has now enrolled sixteen
members, which, considering the small number
of inhabitant^ is equal to present expectation.
BnjmUy } onng Men't Mutual Improvement
Society. — We have received a copy of the. last
aunutu report of this society, flrom which we are
hapity to learn tliat it is in a healthy working
condition. In addition to the public lectures
which have been delivered, several of the mem-
bers have given private ones, on such subjects as
the following :~" Influence" — " Contentment ver-
$ui Fame "—>* The Wondera of Tiaioa "— * lifted
the 6 reat"—*' A Journey to Jerusalem'*— ^ Trifles ;
what they are and what they are not"—** Esaapks
of Perseverance," &o.
Clffde Litermry Society. — ^A loda] oicetinf of
the members and Mends of the abora society was
held in Buchanan's Coffeehouse on Tbundaj
evening, March 3. Mr. William Adamaon occa-
pied the chair. After an abundant supply of tes,
cake. See., the chairman, in neat and appropriatr
terms, alluded to the benefits, both of a moral vai
intellectual nature, to be derived from eonnesion
with such associations, and considered the interest
taken in meetings of the kind to be one of the best
features of the times. He conrluded by arg^f
the members to increased seal in making mutail
improvement societies beneficiaL Mr. Robert
Moore spoke on " The Value of Time," and gsve
some sensible and pointed suggestions as to tbe
proper improvement of this precious boon. Mr.
Alexander Laing delivered wi eloquent addrtat
on ** The Four Evils which afllict Mankind, vix.,
Idolatry, War, Slavery, and Intemperance." Ui.
William Scott, in a felicitous manner, spok« on
" Female Influence, and the position whieli
Woman ought to occupy." The meeting, which
was enlivened with numerous songs and redta-
tions, broke up at an early hour.
€(|t Suijttirtn
QUESTIONS REQUIRING ANSWERS.
153. Having heard lately a good deal of ma-
nuscript magazines, could any of your kind cor-
respondents give me some general information
concerning them?— I. O. U.
153. I am desirous of possessing a theodolite,
and other insirumei)t9 requisite fur efficient tuition
in surveying; will some one of your intel-
ligent readers have the goodness to inform me
where such instruments may be had ; and, further,
what are the respective prices of really good ones ?
A recommendation of a good elementary work on
drawing is also respectluUy requested.--J. T.
154. Will some of your readers be kind enough
to answer tlie following question:— Is it a Utct
that in Russia, when tbe emperor has reigned
twenty-five years, the ceremony of coronation
must then be gone over asain, the officials and
troops also acrain taking the oaths of allegiance,
the. same as in the case of a new emperor? —
Irene.
155. Will some of your readers be kind enough
to inform me, through your valuable ma^^azine,
of the nsoht systematic or best mode of taking up
the several branches of education — grammar,
geography, hi.«tory, algebra, mathematics, &c.—
so arranged tbat the study of one will be subser-
vient and introductory to the next higher, jui»t as
the first step in a ladder is to the second ? Can
they state anythin^r by way of encouragement to
an associate, who is already upwards of tiiirty, of
tb^ poastibility of making himself tolerably ac-
quiunted with tiie above ?—Z. A.
J 'iff. Will tmv of your readirs fiiroish me w\\\\
tbe processes, ice, relating to cnameUmg^— 3 . T3L.
157. Near the close of chapter viii., book iuoT
Dr. Campbell's " Philosophy of Rhetoric," »oott
mention is made of certain "ingenious rootn-
vanees " which have from time to time bet it
brought forward in connexion with the "fdi<^
lastic logic ; " could any of your eorrespoodoiti
fkvour me with some further accotmt of tbcfs
*' contrivances," or refer me to some work csmIt
got at from which I can obtain the desired intbr-
mation?— NfOPHTTK.
158. Two travellers set out at noon from Green-
wich to go to the opposite side of tha globe. Tb<
one travels due etuf, the other due tretf. Mr.
De Morgan (in his treatise on the globos p. T^
shows tliat, supposing each traveller to take W
of his oirn days for the voyage, the one piof
tceattrard would reach the opposite side ■ ^
aAer the one who went eoMtwmrd, *' But Mck
traveller, setting out from Greenwidi at the mom
time, and reckoning ^(00 daya on the voTsp.
would give the same name to the day of bis ov*
arrival. If the one who went east arrived co bis
own Tuesday, the one who went west, and esac
in tbe day aAcr, would eoually arrive on hit «f*
Tuesday, or the other's Wednesday.** SuppeiiK
the place at which the two travellers arrive tob«
inhabited by civilized people, what name woaW
Ihey give to the da^s on which the trarclkn
res|)ectively reached it?— K. G.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
142. How to obtain Ea*e and PoteerinMti'-
—^Vixwf:, read, in tlie February number of jo^
«xvt«viM\^ \w\Kv«s>occv^ ^\:A bA|^y instiuetiee pe
v\rv.\\<««k\ \V» I riTmrmTi' r iii*n n ri 'iniin ""T'li hm ** vrls
t\o«XVc«^^v\a vxsaaxi\>xv\c,«Siaka'uVRRBL^
trls-
THE UTQUIRBB.
157
tive to the dUBealty of npljjng to argument in
tb« tune allowed in a diaeusaion class, and being
a mat adminr of oontroveraj, I Tenture to offer
a Aw remarks ou the sabjeot. The difficoUy of
whioh he speaks arisea fWnn yarioua eauses,
which may in a great measure be removed by
praeciee and attention. Those who are in the
habit of attending debating oluba will readily
adoiit that ** Timon'a " defect is by no means an
isolated one. Men of the moat )m>round know-
ledge and deep-tiiinking geuios have laboured in
vain to overoome the diffieulty, simply from the
want of • spcdfled coorsa of proceeding. I was
onoe fortunate enough to hear fttim an intelligent
young man an essay, whieh, for elegance of style
and eomposition, I have seldom heard ec^nalled.
Tet he lost all the credit ha might have gamed by
stating, when oalled on to reply, that he should
require a fortnight to prepare a reply to the argUr
mtiatM brought forwani againat him in one hour !
Now, to remedy thia, I would offer a few sugses-
tions to all who ezperienoe a difficulty so perplex-
ing. When a person is preparing an essay, he
should look at his subject without prejudice or
putiaUty. He should first collect all the infor-
nation he requires to enable him to introduce his
subject in a manner consistent with his views.
Having done this, he should consider, in the next
place, that in all probabiliiy 8om«> of his audience
will disagree with him on certain points. To
enable him to ascertain which portion will meet
with most opposiiioii, ho must, without any pre-
judiee, take those which he thinks are open to the
most olgection from his opponents ; and after he
has written his essay he shoukl then compose a
Rpiv to the objections which he has selected as
likely to be brought forward against him. This
reply, although written before the delivery of his
essay, will almoat invariably be useful to him,
and to the parpoae. I would recommend this
ooune more particularly to the jroung discus-
siouitt; and, with some discretion m pursuing it,
I doubt not he would find it very useftil. The
system which I would more generally recom-
mend is one whioh I have, from practical expe-
rience, found to be of great assistance in replying
to those who have opposed me. Having delivered
my essay, I directly commence preparing for my
rpply, by taking a few short notes of the speeches
of opponents, fiy the assistance of these notes I
am enabled to think pretty dearly as to what I
shall say in reply ; and , as these notes are arranged
in the order in which they were spoken, I find
^ them extremely useful fi^r reference. I trust that
these observations will be of use to "Timon,"
and all who labour under similar difficulties.—
Etwa.
If "Timon'a" conscience indorses the truth of
" RoUa'e " mnarii ; if, as *< KoUa " supposett, his
productions consist solely of ** fiction, idealism,
poetic flights," tee. ; if, in short, he is merely a
declamatory orator, let him follow *' Rolla's "
n-Ivice, and betake himself to the hard study of
Locke, Bacon. E uclid , and Whately . I f, however,
on the other band, he is able to open a debate in
"excellent style;" if his prepared speeches are
characterized by iound araumentt let him take
courage, and not ft%t himself because he has not
the power of quickly marahalling his thotights for
the purpose of framing a dashing reply. Xon
omne* omnia votnumu. His is the heavy artil-
lery which telb with laaJng effect, though it fail
to effect the apparently immediate suooesa of a
brilliant cavalry charge. Has he, in '* Rolla's "
wordsy " logical continuity " ? If so, we bid him
** Not bate a jot
Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer
Bight onward."
Practice and time will enable him to quicken the
paee of his thinking, though he may never attain
to great facility. To think very rapidly, and yet
soundly, is too high a gift to he common.
Above all, let me urge ** Timon " to pursue the
very opposite course to that recommended by
''Rolla" in his remarks on analyaiM and syn-
theata. How so able a correspondent as " RoUa"
can have fallen into so grave an error puzzles ma
exceedingly. I could almoat suppose that the
printer had transposed the words *' analytical "
and " synthetical, and had tlius made " Rolla'*
say the very opposite of what he meant ! Surely
it must strike every one that to build is a higher
art than to unbuild^that to eatabliah a truth ia a
higher achievement than to detect a /aUehood !
Truth is necessarily consiittent, and hence
" Rolla's " mistake leads him into an incon-
sistency whieh is almost ludicrous. " Cultivate,"
says he, ^* the analytical faculty ;' and he then
proceeds to recoomaend Euclid and Whately.
This is almost equal to the celebrated word of
command, "Advance backwards;" for Euclid
affords the purest specimen of «ynlAe<ira/ reason-
ing extant. He never unbuilds ; but, commi*ncing
arith definitions, postulates, and axioms, shapes
stone by stone as they are required for his noble
edifice. The onljr instances where Euclid departs
from tlte synthetical mode (viz., in his €x abaurdo
demonstrations) are cases where even bis gigantic
intellect wm une<)ual to what "Rolla" terms
" the natural, pleasing, and easy " system of rea^
soning. " Rolla " refers also to Whately 's
" Logio." Is he aware that the "Analytical OuU
line ' there prtcedea the " Synthetical Compen-
dium" ? I commend to his notice the following
passage from the introduction to that work : —
''The aynthetical form of teaching is, indeed,
sufficiently interesting to one who has made con-
aiderable proarcaa in any study; and, being more
conciae, regular, and ayatematic . . . . ; but the
analjrtical is the morp intei^eating^ easy^ and na-
tural kind of introduction ** Syntheaia in
the highest power of the intellect; it looks onward
and upward, while analyaia looks backward and
downward. The omniscience of Deity is syn-
thetic, seeing " the end from the beginning ; '*
while man in his feebleness is often compelled,
and generally willing, to content himself with Ihc
analytic process of looking back trxmi the end
towu^s the beginning. The child naturally ano-
lyzea ; he pulls up the flower he has planted to
see whether it grows ; but the man patiently waits
for aynthetie proof in the gnulual development of
bud and branch. ** Rolla' refers to the criticisms
of reviewers ; but if he examine he will find that
their " grand productions " have seldom been re-
views in aught but name ; the title of a book has
Aimished the text of a disquisition, and not the
subject of criticism. When mere ansJytical criti-
cism has been the object, our reviewers have often
signally failed, and not unfreqiiently greatly
erred. " Satan " and " The Omnipresence of the
Deity " flourish in spite of the brilliant exposures
even of MacaiUay. James Montgomery is wor-
nn<l tain
M-'WI
and wn
at IM fdiihojli ; uiJ wt U
(lived the
B>rl >Ulv
milau
hour by tlK RiureM. Ihouih lb. (Vor-
Urlf awand we (hould cboox u be
bat out cf
•PMI! Iti.lbe.|F-M.-(*CfljM
IMffl.Mld
enlhu
utbon.
Obi- «dvl«, ihen, to -Tim
n" h, in
obUin i»«T in JebUu-l™
tkeiiii. tlicmuKlilr unij cub luKject
latauH
lKt> »«
M*.i™pl.of ™i.;you
sss
will bitmy iLKlr 10 TOiir mx
"Nlidh'
whobu
ruib.i/fairu<«bwkheM
roM-fK
W,h.
poirrrSn
Mmu,
efwhieb
DlRhlu.
-TiBon
]•<• UUHI
Ebu. Ti.« ourU phiw. ■
I Bnd trtaere ttae >pe*krr foet unvrir;
lind (no to (peak) vlU b* ■nuiblTitin'iii
bjrueiiitoiDinKr<nndflon^ vidnijrvnTff
■illon. by rminrnilf iblnfcinii nlond. by luddrTil;
Kd'om
•ok u Ru»U, Tirl.
10 TitKDi o[ perSk
ei.— B. s
ide, Inbl
"Timon's" dUBeniiy; while he ie ■■ iireinTiiiR "
in]|C ID rnily to one icniincr vr hi> snlnpiiilit, !
vein niiioBTanr to main iho (lined or ILc'hoiiils tiirSuiuioyecbool)iRiiidi«I>.«|i«idiyin'n>
enmbered.miidfcrowi j Tf«c1vTii'Ma|ra>int,"willinoetprDbebJ7beUi)d
nt Hiirmy ti/Smulai, ScluHfl.— Tf hi
Furr/ liiatwecvinDtKive J.t\ell tfaelDrbreiiiiQD
tbat fae Ktr\a, for tbo bLKiorr of Snndey xbovb
Is M yvt to be vritloA, or at lrme( to \tt eoArptlr^*
c, till, in iui HniRitlee I dlijeetsd itaiiniflil
LOaiC CLASS. ennition? WliU ie ttae uc i>t di^oui! 1^ ,
JunJor^-Fid' " Arlot Reawnin^' No. IV,- ;^'|'i°''jj_, h.°'*ed"''"-ta«^(bi t^^ I
?owhlrd(;^'Vb.':is;ifllisS'««™r,'„Ti'b' SS^S".i";^^.";'dSii?^ i
ject* leadT In what doei our liability to error J"". T^"" * I"" *" "^T* ' , ^Sfrf I
i»^l> to deTdop Iteelr! Do« pnwi.a™ yirid I bat 1. <l.e difftrraee b«w«n Ibe Bpl«*«<'
n^ or amHifaf tmlhf How tl the word r™- «id U« em]«i«»n o((*.N«l _ _
■re ElSyVind J..d»m.nu. and in what do Ih.y «<"■»". >i>?,'"^»«l,*I- •'-*P? "J^liS
MultT What are%ynth«i<. J.idgn-nt.. ard li "••"■ ■;"? Bn-t. aul iin.ahtbe ro»4«*
whaido(beyKHdtrWha(i(JudiniientiDt>itiTt7 ' ™l"ialt. Pfw"' * ""
What b Jud|pi»en(fnriTenlial? Of what nay in- "jr
GRAMHAB CLASS.
■t •toe* drflnilioD depnull
n aiiwii" \- ■*"*" "■
TRB TOUMO nVDKXT AMD WRTTBR 8 AS818TA1IT.
159
neric Terbs that qualify mood, and doubly under-
lioe those that qualify tanae :—
1 will eome to you. I ahould have come yes-
terday, only that busineM was very preuing from
another quarter. I am coming to-morrow. The
poor are oRen oppressed by the rich. Thon an
wiser than I am, but John is more loved than thou
art. Do thi« for me if you can. Did you leave
the parcel 7 What message did you receive?
James shall attoul school next week. He has
done very little towards improving himself lately.
He raigltt have improved if he had applied him-
self, but he has not You may call at the library
with there books. Now Charles has improved, is
improving, and will be improving.
The righteous »oul of Noah was vexed by the
wickedness of the people of his day. The world
has always hated religious truth, because it haa
been opposed to its deeds. Oooid men are com-
monly despised by wicked men. Those houses
are beinjc built by the squire. The mansion haa
been 6mshed long since.
MODEL EXERCISE No. I.— llrfe Vol. III. p. 78.
Noon.
Fracciea
Parsing
Perfection
Parsing
Time
Man
yriends
Counsel
Buaini
Son
Proverb
Care
Month
Neck
Adjective.
pRr>.
NOUN.
perfect
young
many
An
Arabic
Hesults
Keseareh
Speculation
Hostility
Deductions
Reason
Convictions
Conscience
Dreams
Hecluse
Pity
Contempt
Seeds
Earth
Vitality
Opinions
Face
Coromnnity
Triumph
Insult
Contempt
Opinion
Derision
Errors
Comeliness
Truth
Kaneour
Propagation
Seed
Hurricane
Husbandman
deep
extravagant
new
startling
public
cherished
like
you
he
their
your
you
ray
your
me
thr
which
they
their
Verb.
will produce
AUVBRB.
practifie
will becotne
had
heeded
auend
will repay
not
diligently
says
take
breaks
provoke
announced
may excite
call
cast
will rot
germinate
are endowed
are thrown
are uttered
lose
are
scattered
irritates
blinds
not
PBE POSITION.
Inteb-
JECTIOM.
in
Con-
JUNC-
TION.
m
to
seldom
when
meekly
as
forth
like
quietly
only
of
forth
into
according to
with
in
alas!
O!
if
but
and
that
or
but
if
and
160
TBB TOU2IO STDDBlfT AMD WRITERS AaBI8TA2(T.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— I.
Quettlon 1. 31b. at 4s. = 1^.
81b. at 7s. = 56s.
111b. = 68ji.
.-. OS 111b. : dlb. : : 68 : ;ei 10s. lO^d.
J. F— k L.
Qnettion 2. At the end of 51 days there will
be 75 days' provisions left; and, as this wa!» to
serve 870 men, it was equivalent to 870x75, or
05,350 days' provision for one man, but 870+500
=si;370men.
65250 ^,.„ ,
Question 3. Let there be x sheep, then the
7y56
price of each in shillings will be ; but by the
/705A \
question (X- 17) (l^-+3j=7956,
or 3a:* + 79a5ar-135i52=79:>6*;
transpose and divide by 3, then *•— 17xss450P4 ;
. „ 289 180<i25
or compleUng square, *•— 17x+-— s= — - ;
extracting square root and transposing,
2 J. K.
Que$tion 4. The amount of £1 for one year at
34 per cent. = 1+ j ■ £1'035 ; and since the
amount of a sum of money at compound interest
is equal to the ^i^^n rate raised to the power of
the number of years, and that power multiplied
by the principal, we have (1035)»«> x SOOOOOsthe
required amount ; whence, by the theory of loga-
rithms, 20 X log. 1 0:35+ log. 20*000= log. A.
log. 1 035=; OHiMOS
20
th« area, 30* X -7854; ^
soliditysarea of basax perpcmdicoLir hei|^tx
20 "^
= 30" X -7854 X ^=4712 4 cubic Aet _ „
3 B. M.
Question 8. The weiirht to be raised,
S4712-4+ loa 5b784614*6.
The centre of gravity of a cone is, at a poia^ tti
the axis, distant from the base ^ of the lengtk^ oi
the axis ; therefore, the mean height to which rki*
20
material must be raised ss +10sl5 feet.
.-. units ofworks784614 6x15:= 117»^:i9.
W. U. li.
Question 9. Sine A s -/» (« — a) (* — t) ;« — t }.
vC
Substituting the value of the quantities xinder the
radical, as found in question 5, we have—
• 2 ,, D27534*tM4 «.j.,.^«,
sm. A=.- 313767-417=— „.„.,. =746007^
be 8ia'%15
.-. angle=48» 17' 6U", and
sin. B=^ 313767417 = 5H!^i?i=.80017S?
ac 72W54U
.-. Angle =59® 20' 12".
Now, as the three angles of a triangle are e<jaal
to two light anirleK.
l»0«»-(4b« 17'50"+.'i9« SC 12'')=72» 21'^'^"
= third angle. W.C.D.
•29Si?0fi0
log. 20-000 =4 -30 1 0300
4-5998360
therefore the amount required is,
39795-088 =£39,795 13s. OjiL— .4na. J. S.
^ .. . 750 + 871+905 ,.^
Que»<ion5. ^ = 1296.
1996-7.'>6=540
1296-871=4-25
1206-965=331
2
V1296 X 540 X 4-J5 x 331 =3137074 feet— J««.
Question 0. Area of the whole circle, or 300°,
=54" X -7854;
^ -„ 54«x-78.'>4
area of l°= — — :
aoo '
54* X '7854 x47*^
.*. area of sectors -— •"=303 03088.
300
— Ans.
Question 7. Tie diameter of base,
a v^-i3>- 20^x2^30 i
QUESTIONS FOR SOLUTION.-III.
19. What is the value of t^» of a ship, i ol'whicb
is worth XI, 400?
20. How mueh. avoirdupois, does £9000^
worth of gold weigh, at .£3 17s. 6d. per oz. tpoy*
21. A room is 27 feet 8 inches long, »if«tt'
inches wide, and 12 feet 6 inches high; hovramy
cubic feet of air does it contain ?
22. I have two horses and one saddle. Tbefin*
horse in the saddle is worth jfUO; tlie second iis
the saddle, X'70; and the horses are, tofeihtf-
worth X'120. Required, the respective vaiaet us
each horse and the saddle.
23. A train left London forPeterborouitb ttthff
same time thai one left Peterborough for London*
The first arrived in Peterborough six hours, an*
the second arrived in London in three hours, sft**"
meeting. How long was each upon the roid?
' 24. I have a cistern whose length It 10 feet,
depth 6 feet, and width 7 feet, which I drdie h^
moke as large again, retaining the same vtofof"
tions. What must be the Itii^h, breadta, sbS
depth, when the desired alteration is made?
25. Wishing to find the distance of an ioiMt*^
sible object from A, I ran a base line, A,B,iii'
foimd tire angle at A 37<* 51', and the angle m9
r>7» 44'. What was the distance of the ot^set, 1^
base line being 2k) links 7
26. The specific gravity of copper Is JW)-
Required. the diameter of a sphere containiii|*
pound weight of cop|ier, that will exactly lIo<«*
water, no account being taken of the weight sft^
air that it would contain.
27. What would be the thickncn of thcooffC
iu the ubuve case?
liliBtnrit.
BY THB AUTHOR OF. '*THE ART OF REASONING."
No. XVII.— LITERARY -ESTHETICS.
BEAUTY— GRANDEUR— SUBLIMITY.
** The cnnniDg handiwork so fine/* of which Nature is the result —
" Eartii and oceaai
Space, and the isles of life or light that gem
The sapphire floods of iutentellar air,
This finuament pavilioned upon chaos.
With all its cressets of immortal fire,
• • • • this whole
Of suns, and worlds, and men, and beasts, and flowers.
With all the silent or tempestuous workings
By which they have been, are, or cease to be'* —
are capable of producing within the human mind certain pleasurable emotions, which
metaphysicians have now pretty generally agreed to denominate Beauty, Grandeur, and
Sublimity. In the immediately preceding paper we announced our intention of attempting
to explain the genesis of these emotions, so far as that question affected rhetorical studies,
and more particularly that department of these studies which we have denominated Lite-
rary JRsthetics. We are now called upon to implement the obligation contracted by that
announcement, and are thereby forcibly reminded of the truism, that engaging to attempt
a thing
** Is easier far than afterwards essaying it,
Just as to sign a promissory note
Is not so difficult as paying it."
It is not easy to entrap the erasive spirit of Beauty in a network of words. The most
common emotions of man are those of which the modus operandi and the ultimate reason
9xt least known to philosophers. The singular frequency and rapidity with which they flit
through the chambers of thought render it a difficult task to bring such abstract evan-
escences before the mind. *' They come like shadows — so depart;" nor will they readily
retom, though yon do call for them. They stream like a tempest of dazzling mist into
the brain, and evanish so speedily that we scareely have time to say. They come. One
cannot easily detain them for analysis, and the hasty signature they trace npon the memory
is not readily decipherable. Hence it is that on these topics there is ao much uncertainty.
Hence it is that '* the theory of Beauty" is so difficult of settlement. Hence it is that,
although we haTe all been enraptured with the view of some object or objects which
Mcmed to Qa
" Almost translucent with the light divine,"
We have yet felt puzzled to determine the (<rroix^t<3r) el^n^nU of which it is made up — >the
{id quod) somewhat in which the feeling has its origin. This difficulty ought not, how-
o
162 RnETORIC. — NO. XVII.
ever, to make us desfiair. It is rather a reason for perseverance. The moat pregnint
troths have been those which ^ere most intricatelj enravelled with everj-day pbenomena.
Gravitation, electricitj, steam, &c., liave only to be mentioned to prove that in the ordin&ry
appearances which surround us sublime truths are hidden, imperceptible to the casual e jc^
bat readily cognoscible by the ardent inquirer. In this sense Troth may, in the words of
the old riddle, be said to be patent thouj^h latent — patent to the earnest-seeking, paqx>se-
guided eye; latent to the incurious, unawakened, or volatile. The ideas which the wnnis
above mentioned indicate were involved in ordinary phenomena, and yet for a long time
they baffled discovery; but now they have yielded up their secrets. Ought we n«»t also to
hope that a like huccess may attend our speculations if we pursue them buntbly aoJ
cautiously? Yea, verily! and it is in this hope (hat we now write. Beauty is alwaM
coy, but seldom long insensible to honest admiration. Her fervent worshippers, we wuqM
fain inquire her parentage, birth, and nature.
" The spirit of the thing interpreted.
Is that which doth interpret."
It is impossible for even the mot-t cursory observer of Nuture to fail in percei? ing trsces
of harmony, adaptation, order, and beauty. Mathematical precision is perceptible in the
ebbing and flowing of the ocean>tides — the diunial and annual revolutions of tke earth,
and the consequent recurrence of light and darknebs, seed-time and harvest. Inorgioic
Kature, whether examined in the valley, the plain, and rogged mountain-side, or is the
ocean's deepest beds, presents to the eye of the spectator indisputable te»tia»0Dy thst it
«iia»ta under fixed laws, and that, in the midst of all her changes, these are changel«si*
Organic Nature possesses a like constancy and perpetuity amidst all tbe revolution^ pro-
gressions, recurrences, and apparent aberrations which she displays. There is neither
chance, confusion, nor erratici>m in creation. Every element is goveraed by its own
positive and relative laws. These lavrs are ever- operative. Thtis it is that the hsniKioj
and stability of the universe, throughout all its evolutions and revolutions, is maintiioed.
Purpose is the word which solves the enigmas of Nature, and appearances are only roam-
festive of that purpose. As every objectivity has a part to perform in the folfikneDtofi
purpose, it must have » constitution completely and specifically adapted to tbe prodoctiflt
of the efiert which it is intended to accomplish. The degree of adi4>tability wbicbtbey
possess for the bringing altout of the nascence and consnmmation of that prcdetermaid
effect constttutes the utility of objects. Everything which is troly adapted to tbe prodac*
tion of the end for which it was intended — everything truly useful — everything perfwt*
its nature — may therefore, in one sense, be called beautiful, and utility and beauty DSjhs
considered as mutually implicative. It was in this deeper sense that the Greeks bsM*
tbe universe Konfio^ — beauty; and the Roma.n8, mtmcfa* — oraament. Peifectieii in^
at once the highest beauty and the greatot utility. Abstractly, therefore, we do i^
quarrel with the defenders of the unity of the useful and the beautiful — those wbofl^'
tain that these tteo are one. The beauty of Nature, however, is unique aud wir-^
product of tbe cosmoplahtic power of God. All that He does must be fair and bcautifsl*"^
good* Upon Hu work« no pare lumd ^^n XqkAi^ VwYmnuX. VMxuf, thriUed with tlffitei j^
I
RHETOKIC. — aiO. XT1X. 163
aad filied witk holy thoovht. In tliia sense the hemdifid and ike goad are one. The
highest moral exaltation resolla from the clearest perception of the all-provident kindness
of the yiosT UiOB. Bat all merely scientific truth, and much that is healthily moral, is
derivabie from Nature — from the impressloos which she makes upon our sense-organs, and
heace opoa the intdlection. Hence alsow in one senaei the hecaUifid and the trite are one.
Agam, oor sweetest asaoeiatiooM come to the sonl
** Bright from the hill-tops of the beautilViL'*
How many pure deli^^hts, pleasing fancies, glowing aspirations, beautiful hopes, ecstatic
joTs, and temporary triumphs, entwine themselres with oor reminiscences of places and
objects! How multitudinously are our most exquisite ideas interknit with Nature's
charms! Hereon does **the associative theory of beauty" attach itself with some slight
semblance of right. We find, then, that the ideas implied in the words emotive pleasure,
the useful, the good, the true, and the beautiful, have all been, to isome extent, regarded
as coincident, while in some cases they have been locked upon as mutually convertible.
"Each is a hint of the truth, but far enough from being that truth.'* That such a heap
of confused notions should have been entertained regarding this topic might appear won-
derful, did we not know the laxity with which words are employed by the people on the
one hand, and the eagerness with which metaphysicians engage themselves in word-wars
on the other. In this state of confn>«ion, however, the subject of "Beauty," even at the
present hour, exists, and so long as this is the case, we are afraid that the consideration of
"Literary JBsthetics" must be surrounded with difficulties — the labours of the critic merely
enipirical, and Rhetoric a baseless science. We would be less audacious than we have
hitherto been— ^not, we hope, without gitod results — did we not endeavour, out of this
strange chaos of thought, to construct some system of opinion possessed of symmetricality
and truth. To do so we think possible, and, craving your indulgence, shall essay it,
although wc know
" How meao our efforts and oar actions ane !
The space between 'he idea of maa'n soai
And man ■ aebieTemeni who hath ever past?
An ocean s|irea(b between us auti that goal
Where aDchot- ne'tr was cast ! "
Nature is a reality. Whatever exists in Nature conformably to the laws which govern
it, and in the highest degree of efficiency f«»r the accomplishment of those purpo.ses which
it wat denigned to effectuate, is beautiful m NcUurCj when looked upon with reference to
the presiding intention of its existence. In this sense it may truly be said that
" Nothing comes amiss ;
A good digestion torneih all to health.*
Tliis deciphering of the handwriting of Crod npon his works must, nnquestionably, produce
emotions of admiration, and the perception of its loveliness. The beauty of the objects
which Nature presents to us m^iy be said to be of two kinds, viz. — 1, Absolute; 2, Relative.
Absidute beauty is that which is independent of time, place, circumstance, or matter —
('' da* «^yis m da$ tverden") the changeless in the changing — that beauty which oonati-
tutes the ideoL This beauty ia appreciated by every mind, the pleftsore derirable from it
164- BRBTORIC. — no. XVIT.
is enduring, and the associated emotions resulting from it are the loftiest in our nature.
Absolnte beauty is that general charm which Deity has bestowed on Nature, in that He
constructed it in conformity with the laws which He intended should regulate our senses,
and invested it with a halo of glory which should faintly forth-shadow the greater gloiy of
the Architect of a universe so resplendent as that in which we have our habitation* Its
perdorability is unquestionable, for amidst all the fleeting of opinion, ideas of beauty haTe
never departed from the minds of men.
** Neither now nor ytaterdaj began
These thoughtK. They have been ever, nor yet can
A man be found who their first entrance knew."
Belative beauty is dependent on circumstance, matter, time, place, or other modifying
i nfluences. It changes as these change, and depends for its vividness and intensity npoa
tliese changes. The contingencies of intention, fitness, circumstance, &c., enter into the
comiM)sition of this species of beauty. Situation, plan, efficiency, proportion, &c., are con-
stituent elements thereof, and add their grace and comeliness to the object or objects in
which absolnte beauty inheres.
. It would not have been essentially necessary to mention these differences in the emo-
tional feeling of the beautiful, but that it might furnish an opportunity of remarking that
utility and relative beauty are coincident, while the sphere and operation of absolute
beauty was beyond " the circumspection and confine" of our notions of utility. Let the
spirit of utilitarianism conquer as it may, man will never require to complain that
" The beautilUl is Tanisbed to retnra not"
Oh! it will never, surely, be impossible to taste those pleasures which the bard has &o
eloquently well expressed in the following passage: —
** To see the san to bed, and to arive.
Like some hot amorist, with glowing eyes,
Bursting the lasy bands of sleep that bound him,
With all his fires and travelling glories round him.
Sometimes the moon on soft night-clouds to rest
Like Beanty nesding in a young man's breast.
And all the winking stars— her handmaids — ^keep
Admiring silence while these lovers sleep,
Sometimes outstretched, in very idleness,
Nought doing, saying little, thinking less,
To view the leaves— thin dancers upon air —
Go eddying round ; and smnlt birds how they ftre,
When Mother Automn fills their beaks with oom.
Filched from the careless Amalihea's honi:
To view the graceful deer come tripping by,
Then »top and gaxe, then torn, and knam noi why ;
To maf k the atruelure qf a plant or tree.
And all /air thing* of earth, how /air they he."
Of a few of the elementary ideas which, in greater or less number, appear to us to be
implied in the term Beanty, and are originated in us by the perception of tfaoot objects
which are denominated beautiful, vre shall now endeavour to speak.
XHBTORIC. — ^SO. XVn.
165
That Beantj is a compoand idea will nadilj appear from the fact of the ejusteace of
such a diTersitj of opinion regardinig it. Did that emotion arise from anj one qnalitj in
objects, experiment might easily have settled the question. But becaose men persist in
attempting to find one quality, or a few qualities only, which are the producing causes of
the sense of the beautiful; or because they adhere to the opinion that if there are a few
thej most appear in some certain definite order and regularly graduated proportion, their
theories have been Tague, uncertain, and inapplicable, in whole, to the facts of experience.
We shall endeavour to avoid this error. In order that our ideas on this topic may be
redoced to form, we subjoin the foUowing tabular view of the qualities of which we inteni
treating, vis.:— •
^In the gra-
dutttiou of
aueqtials.
in the oon-
Bortment
^ of equals.
I-Ukitt-
^of origin.
of subject.
of proportion.
of sequence.
^ of variation.
II. SrHMETBT.
III. MODSEATION.
' Chasteness.
Refinement.
Completeness.
[Material.
IV. POBXTT. j Mental, i. f .,
I Bugge&tive.
V. Peace,) . , ^ .
I in present state.
or
Base,
, transition.
I* It win scarcely be denied that in all those things to which we apply the term beautiful
—whether landscapes in nature, pictures, sculptures, or writings — a strict adherence to
Qnity forma an essential element in our idea. This is what we mean when we speak of
coDgmity or incongruity; something which makes us feel that the oneness of object has
prevailed or has been neglected. If the former case, it forms a reason of preference in our
^ojnd; in the latter, a catise of dislike and disapproval. A different unity is, of course, to
be looked for in the varying objectivities of which we predicate Beauty. The unity of
sculpture differs from the unity of painting, and that of architecture from that of oratory
or poesy. Hence we have enumerated soma of the several species of uhity which are
observable in Nature and Art. Not that we are called upon to examine all these with
minuteness, but that we might not be supposed to be more stringent in our requirements
than truth warranted.
Synmietry might bo supposed to be included in proportional imity. The symmetric
cality, however, which we desiderate is that which Insensibly allies itself with the notion
of fitness or adaptation, conformity to an ideal, a graduation in accordance with the
laws of the senses and the requirements of thought — unity so carried out, that not only
^1 no part seem out of place, but that no part should seem capable of occnpying any
other position than it does without injury to the mental emotion arising from its
perception — the conformity in all points of the external reality with the inward ideal.
III. Moderation implies freedom from exaggeration or extravagance. Temperance of
treatment is necessary to conserve the calmness of the emotion of the beautiful, which
never in itself nau above enraptured enjoyment. Immediately on the perception of any-
thing which is super-elevating, it merges into a new feeling. Moderation demands the
absence of all visible straining or effort in the production of an effect; struggle is alien to
its nature — ease, mastery, full capacity to give ready and appropriate expression to the
ideal. AH that is tawdry, bizarre, or outre — all glare, bedizenment, as well as all that is
166 RnKTORIC. — MO. XVH.
low or mean — is herebj excluded from fonning any portion of the elemeoUury idlcu irludi
'. constitute the beantifuL Chaateness, reBnement, and completeneM, miut oTerrole all.
IV. Poritj becomes a portion of the notions implied in Beantj, because that eootico
forms one of the loftier feelings of oar nature. It stands on the bonadarj-line between
material and mental enjoyment, a strange compound of both, and as such extremdj b'aUe
to abuse. It maj form the primordial excitement to manj of our evil propensities, sid
maj thus lead to our gradual doprarement, or it maj form the earliest emotion Kiiich
awakens in the brcabt the purest and the holiest thoughts. Shakspeare has said,
" Beattty is but a vain and doubtTal good; "
and it would certainly become so, but that the law of purity operates in our approTalci
the beautiful. Nothing that is either physically impure, or expressly calculated to sagge:=t
impure ideas to the soul, can long retain the admiration of the healthy mind.
V. Peace, or Ease, is not less necessary than those elements which we have formcrir
mentioned. Calmness and evenness of mind, unruffled— or, at all events, but slight'.r
agitated — feelings are essential to real enjoyment. Capad change, hurried transitiw:,
cxcessire excitement, and cner*!y too much and too frequently exercised, disturb the com-
placency of the soul, and injure the delight experienced by it.
We by no means assert that these elements must all, in equal and nnrarying yro^-
tions, enter into each and every item which we call beautiful ; but we do affirm that tite
greater number of these elements which can at one period enter into the mind on tbe
beholding of an object, the more it is entitled to be regarded as reallj beautiful. Tht
quantities may vary ; some of these may even be omitted, while accidental elements gaia
place, and yet the object may be regarded as capable of calling forth the emotion, sod be
catalogued amongst things beautiful; but we are convinced, upon matnre ooDsideratioD,
that the works of Nature, as well as the highest works of Art, of whatever sort, are di^
tiogttishably remarkable for their power of educing these elemental ideas, and these
demental ideas appear, to us, some of the component constituents of the beautifuL Era
•M the seven colours of the rainbow are couchont in the raindrops, ready to manifest them-
selves upon occasion given, so arc these emotional elements ready to arise within tbe Bioi
when fitting objectivities are placed before them, and to become ravelled and twiseil
together into Beauty.
It will be observed that we hare not spoken of any of the qualitia which enter iott
the composition of the emotion of the beautiful, except such as were, in our opiiii<Hi, gn^
rally characteristic of that feeling. Undoubtedly there are laws of fwra, cokNir,&c.,wUeh
enter largely into art studies; but such considerations as these belong not toot is «r
present essay, which, being confined to ** Literary j£sthetics," is precluded from eatcnsf
into the general *' theory of beauty,'' further than is necessary to iUustrmte the ^tukmi^l
which operates in the production of the higher purposes of literature. This we havi vf
done, we think, with so much fulness as may enable our readers to perceive the gwcnl
laws which demand attention in rhetorical compositions, and to nnderstand the grsBodw^
of oar future pipers on that importsxit element in literature, " Figuratira Exjnmm."
Having bestowed so mucli aJlleiiWciu aa waa -^oas^X^va c^sc^<L«n&M&. ef etf spier, is
^pecalMiiaoB regarding the clcmeutiA coTVft\:\\.wtvVa <&\\iAV%KjX.^-«a«Kvi^^^iaii^^
BHBTOKTC. — VO. XVII. 167
little chaaee of doiog more than offeriog onggestive hints upon Uie mental gawBio of tho
idea. This, however, we eateem it abaolatelj requisite to do, in order that our idea of
thepoaitioD aaMmgat the fine arts which literatvre ought to assume maj he fairljjet
before the reader, as the consequences of our doctrine upon this matter must materiallj
affect all our after-teaching. We believe, then, that before the highest perception of the
beanUfnl can he elicited, thtrt are four clearlj-marked stages of mental activit/ to he
passed, tis. — 1. Sense-perception; 2. Intellectual idealization; 3. Imaginative activitj;
4. Emotional excitement. The respective results producible bj each of theM acts of
iateUigential notivitj we shall endeavour briefij to indicate.
Sense-perception must at once be admitted as the great inlet of all ideas derivable from
externalities. It is the sme qua no» of mental escitement — the soul's imperial paUce>
g&te — the tnspective power through which all cognitive ideas enter the soul. Sense*
excitement is the pretogenetic element in the evolution of knowledge and emotion. Without
it experience mast be blank, and without experience and the results of the operation of ex*
perience upon the mind, wherein does human intelligence manifest itself? Ever and ever
does the intellect receive thence frerii nutriment and stimulL All nature poars there-
through a revelation of herself ; bj sense man acquires the fonndation-elements of know-
ledge— those which excite him to become " the interpreter of Nature." Sense-perception
10, therefore, the earliest stage in which the beantj of the universe can manifest itselfl
This it does in that it presents to the eye and the other senses those effluences from herself
which, in accordance with the structural laws of the organs of sensation, are calculated to
bestow delight. Hence the intense admiration which Nature receives in our early years,
when the senses are healthy, and the mind is unallured by false pleasures.
Intellectual idealization is another of the prerequisite operations which the mind per-
forms prior to its being placed fully under that ^heavenly quintessence" of thought — the
beautiful. As the poet says, —
** It is the mind that »ee$ ; the outward eyes
Present the object, but the miud descries."
From the presentations of sense, and the representations of memory, the intellect is ever
engaged in fashioning and evolving thought. "The sensuous impression we actaallj
receive on the bodily organ cannot be by any means a complete prototype of the perception
which follows it; a very small portion of the properties perceived is actually given in the
physical affection. The impression, for instance, by which we become cognizant of solid
figures is made on a perfectly flat surface, so that here the mind has to complete what is
only imperfectly indicated to it from without. The organic affection, in fact, acts only as
*^ suggestion, which excites the mind to an independent intellectual operation of its own ;
but it can never bring with it any complete pictorial counterpart of the subsequent mental
pbeoomenoD. The perceptive mind must, indeed, take cognizance of the physical stimulus,
and start from it; in place, however, of merely receiving and propagating it, it converts it
at onee into a new mental phenomenon; and this mental phenomenon, coming as it does
from a soul originally eonstitated in most perfect harmony with nature, is far more true to
the entire objective reality Of^osed to it than any material impressions could possibly be.
All our perceptive experience^ in fact, is idealized from fragmentary impressions made upon
the bodily organs, and those impressions could never come at all out of the sphere of
168 RHETORIC. — KO. XVU.
existence into that of thought^ except as thus transformed and assionUated bj the thinkiB;;
mind.*** The imprint of externalities upon the sense-percepiencies gives the elements, and
intellectual idealization out of these elements constructs a whole. ^ No sooner is anj fonn
or moTement given in the outioardy than the spontaneity — the soul deploying itself ODdv
law, impressed on the one hand by God, on the other bj Nature— conceives in her own
depths a form or movement of the same order as that which is given, but such an one as
is beautiful of its kind. This tjpe, the creation of the reason, is, however, overlaid bjr
the real object as given in sense or in memory, and this, being more vivid than that of
reason, throws the latter into the shade, and so absorbs or confounds itself with it tbat tke
two cannot be separated till after much practice in this kind of analysis.** f PerceptivitT,
Memory, Abstraction, and Generalization, unite their efforts to produce this ideal — tliU
type of outward objects freed from their specialities, and perfected by that freedom.
Imaginative activity, or vividness of conception animated by the several incitements
which association presents, seizes upon the sense-given and subsequently idealized pheno-
menon, and by an exquisite refinement of skill colligates this to other ideas possessed of
resemblant qualities, knits them together into oneness— ran ideal unity — and thus tb«
delight experienced through the beholding or remembering of these is, in part, traosferretl
to this. The subtlety with which the imaginative faculty operates may prevent us from
being able to trace the processes by which she spreads her glorious enchantment over
objects, but of the fact no one can be ignorant.
" Hence the wide universe.
Through all the seasons of revolving worlds,
Bears witness • • • •
To Beauty's blissfUl power, aod with the voice
Of grateful admiration still resounds."
There may be, here and there, some earth-dull being whose soul has never been stintd
within him by such thoughts — men to whom the green ocean, the blue sky, the star-
gloried night, the garden, the grove, the forest, the landscape brightened by the rlsioir
sun, the solitary wild flower blooming in the sward, bring no delight — men to whom lU
things are objects of calculation — who estimate a landscape at its market value, and trfs<i
upon the blue-bcll as an unsaleable commodity ; -but these are, surely, the excej^ons
among mankind. The embruting influence of the lower passions has not, surely, eviscerated
the love of Beauty from the hearts of men, and made them insensible to
*• The charm
Til at senseless Xatare o'er the sense of man
DifTuses."
And if it has not, we may rest assured that imagination has been there, investing all UdH*
with a witchery of its own — imparting to objects a light which is invisible to all who are
unblest with the power of perceiving the harmonizing elements which exist in all thin^
The intrinsic qualities of objects call forth the sense-energies, and subsequently excite th«
♦ *' Elements of PaycYioVocy " \>7 3 .Ti.VLoTwW.^^VJft^.
RHBTOBIC—KO. XVII. 169
iutellect; bat the imagination enhances the brilliancy of the light in which we view them,
bj throwing aronnd them an atmoephere of parity.
" Borne dans aa nature, infini dans ses tqbuj:,
L'homme est un dieu tombe qui souvienC des cieox." *
Imagination is the heaven-light which he bears within him — the pnrifying agency by
which the defects of the earthy are withdrawn, and the exquisite loveliness of the ideal only
retained. ** Physical natare is bat a shrine; thereinto onr sonls most enter to behold a
soal." Oar life its own life lends to all. Beanty of form, coloar, unity, proportion, &c.,
appear in dissevered elements in the natural world. Beauty of conception flows from the
»>al; imagination is the unition-bond of the bodily and the spiritual — the externally-given
elements and the mind-given conception. Thus " at oar starting-point there is no ideal,
bat only real beauty, natural beauty, beauty enwrapped in the concrete, hid in complex*
ness. As soon as abstraction (&c.) has disengaged it,, it shines forth in all simplicity,,'*
and imagination adds thereto
'* The light that never was on land or shore."
Emotional excitement results from imaginative activity.
" And how and why we know not, nor can trace
Home to its cloud this lightning of the mind."
All true poetry is deeply though instinctively philosophical, and beautifully as well as
truly has the bard of the ** Seasons " given utterance to thb same idea in these words : —
** Ten thousand thousand fleet ideas, such
As never mingled witli the vulgar dream,
Crowd fast into the mind's erecUivc eye;
As ftuit the correspondent passions rise-
As varied and as high."
The beautiful cannot be otherwise than suggestive; thought and action are the purposes
of human existence: emotion is the primary prerequisite to action; hence we see that from
a perception of the beautiful, emotion must arise and action must result.
*' We live by admiration, hope, and love :
And even as these are well and wisely fixed
In dignity of being we ascend."
It is from mistaking this ultimate result for the whole process of thought involved in
the word Beauty that ''the associative theory" has been so universally accepted; but our
readers can now see that it, no lesd than the utilitarian hypothesis, is only a partial view
of the subject — exhibits it only in one of its manifold phases. Emotion is the final end
of the existence of the beautiful, as action is the intention which emotion is speciflcallj
capable of producing.
We have thus far spoken of the ingoing — the becoming and the consummation of the
Beauty-emotion — of the genesis and purpose of those notions which that word implies.
This we have thought advisable, because an acquaintance with the method in which the
• «* Finite in his nature, infinite In his deilres,
Man is a fkllen god who remembers the skies." — Lamartine,
^70 RHSTOinc.— wo. xm.
emotions of the soal are called forth is the onlj trae rale hj whtdi tfaej msj Ke re^
duced. To produce the beautiful in perfection we must otter from an emotioD, in order
that we may originate an emotion.
" It 18 oar fear, our hope, our loTe,
Mbke* all the spleodour when we move-
Gives earth its light and bloom."
*' Oat of the fUlneas of the heart the mouth speaketh."
The sculptor or tlie architect translates the emotion with which his soul is a^tated io
form — the painter in form, colour, &c. — the musician in sounds, i, f ., tfaej appeal to the
emotions through our sense-perceptions. The man of abstract science reads off the bran-
tiful in nature into intellectual idealization. Narrative and dramatic writers, as wdl as
the popularizers of science, excite the imaginative activitj. The poet and the orator
wield the whole sweep of the emotional nature. " With lan<ruage poetry can paiDt tod
canre; it can raise a fabric like an architect; and, to a certain extent, it imitates the sweet
concord of music. It is, so to speak, the point where all the arts meet: it is art supremelj;
it is the power of expressing all with an universal sjmboL . . . Poetrj in itself is
nearly equal to all the other arts combined, and excels each separate one." *
The beautiful may, then, as a summary definition, bo applied as a predicate to everr-
thing that is capable of appealing to the sense-organs in accordance with their constitu-
tional laws — of originating in the mind the ideal — of calling the imagination into actiritr,
and of producing as its ultimate results emotions pleasing to the mind ; and that is most
beautiful which can produce all the^e effects on minds of the highest and most universal
culture. It is not the useful, the agreeable, the good, the true, although those objects
which possess it are able to suggest each of these in different circumstances. It is a coo-
sentaneous exertion of the sense-perception, the UDtellectual, imaginative, and emotional
faculties, originated by objectivities formed in consonance with the laws of sense, and
resulting in emotions of an elevating, refining, purifying, and pleasing kind— the shador
still retained by the earth of the spiritual hues of heaven.
Grandeur is a feeling which flows into the mind through the same channels as the idea
of Beauty, but differs from that idea insomuch as the objects which originate the notion
of Grandeur have the capacity of exciting in the emotional nature of man both pleasiog
and disagreeable ideas, when those ideas arise in equilibrium, or nearly so, i. e., when as
many emotions of an agreeable nature mingle with those of a displeasing sort as equfiz^
each other. The sense of Beauty is not so much suppressed as absorbed — not less riridlr
excited, but more energetically neutralised. This contest, as it were, of onottoiis, ss it
produces greater vividness, causes us to suppose that a greater elevation of mind has ben
attained. This, however, is not the case. Grandeur is the intermediate stage betwees
Beauty and Sublimity.
Sublimity is a union of beauty with disagreeable feelings. '^ Terror hath a hesoty t^f^
ns mildness.** Objects which are gigantic, vast, obscure, dark, dangerous, strong, swift, pos-
sessing indications of violent or malignant energies, &c., exercise a strange fincinatkB over
the mind. Of course it is on\y when lVi««& emotions arc indirectly felt or suggeited, sot
• CoMin " Sur le Fond«ment deft Uws k\>%o\>ai«% ^vtNt^\,^'TS^wi,^^^\«k; V«^
WOULD KDUCATIOX KILU>ICATB CSUlf B ?
171
Khen thcj are actaaDj experienced, that sablimitj if predicable. It implies tocli a con-
tention of emotiont as gives fur a result the predominance of tbe repressive or di8agreeal>le
feelings, the idea of awe. Delight, sensnoos pleasure, love, reverence, and struggle, com-
mingle in the mind — the intellectual and emotional are stronglj roused in conflict, and tbe
awful in general preponderates. The beautiful, however, never whoUj vanishes even from
the ansterest form of the emotion of sublimitj, but, like the ndnbow which overarches a
cataract,
** Bears serene
Its brillisnt hoes with sU their besms unshorn.**
Tbe intensitj of emotion maj subordinate, but cannot whollj obliterate, the magic Gght
of Beautj and the delicionsness of feeling which accompanies it.
We have been compelled to be tediooslj dull and prosaic on one of the most poetical of
topics, because we wished to subordinate our speculations to a useful end. That end vrill
be better subserved by implanting in the minds of our readers fixed ideas, than in surfeit-
ing them with the bauble jewellerj of tinselled expression. The end in view was to laj a
scientific, i. e., a philoeojdiic, foundstion for the ctHusideratioo of all topics bearing relation
to Literary Taste. We have gone thus lengthily into the discussion of the topic becavse
of the unsettled and chaotic ideas which seem to float through the popular mind upon
SBstbetical subjects. If we have been able to do what we desired, our readers shall now be
capable of giving a ressoo for their {esthetic fwth, and be fumibhed vrith the means of
testing the real worth of those ornaments of style which prevail in literature, as well as to
perceive the fcHrns in which thoughts may be most advieably moulded. Grace, Beauty,
Ptcturesqueness, Grandeur, and Sublimity, form the series of aesthetic qualities of which
Poetry and Oratory — in truth, all real Literature — is an embodiment. We hope that we
have now so systematized tbe theory of Taste as to enable us philosophically to pursue our
inquiries into the laws which regulate figurative expression — the beautiful manifested in
thoBght-utterance. Our pages have, we fear, been "sicklied^* o*er with [m<»e than] "the
pale cast of thought," for life does not flow so joyously through our veins as it did. With
A far difleroit meaning than was included in tlie same expression when we used it in these
pages three years ago, we can now say, " The aspect of the world is becoming altered.*
WOULD EDUCATION ERADICATE CRIME ?
AFFIRMATIVE REPLY.
Ijr bringing this interesting debate to a
dose, it devolves upon me to sift the argu-
meots bronght forward by the writers on the
negative of the question, and to see if any
haTB been pradnced nfficiently patent to
destroy tboat used b^ the Bappiarttra o( the
m/BmuUirm, Tbe reader will be etrwck by
tbe perfect similarity of the modes «f treat-
ing the question by the latter, though tbeir
arguments may be clothed in a somewhat
diflerent garb, and enunciated with greater
or less force. It may be well to leier to ihA
opening affirmniLYV^ •x\A!d^ isA^>u^ ^rse^pxt^
ing tfctt xeaawuDg \2b«i« lAftoarwft -ffcSa. ^^ok.
172
WOULD EDUCATION ERADICATE CEIMK ?
advanced by our opponents, test the strength
or weakness of the former.
First, then, it was desired to show that
the cause of crime was threefold — a predo-
minance of the animal nature, external ex-
citement, and ignorance. B. W. P. says,
"Without venturing to speculate upon the
have the most fruitful source of crime. I
see nothing in this opposed to the scriptnnl
view : it is likewise in harmony with coaamoo
sense.
The second point treated b the nature of
education. It was asserted in the opening
article, that education does not consist meitly
nature of crime, it may yet be desirable for ■ of the development of intellect, nor of the
our purpose to premise this much concerning | moral or physical powers alone, nor of the
it — that it is not a product of the intellect. | religious sentiments and emotions by them-
Crime is an offence strictly against the moral selves, but hi the educing of the whole facul-
ties and natures of a man; for, as ^ Signut"
very truly observes, " Educare (to lead oat)
may be as reasonably applied to pure secular
instruction as to the development of the
higher emotions of the soul." And it nuy
cease. However, so far as B. W. P. goes, he ' be well here to remark that I have to thank
has not at all opposed our assertion; for we ! ** Sigma" for drawing my attenti<Ni to a
make crime dependent upon a deficiency of
law." But is it not absolutely necessary
first to define the cause of crime, before we
shall be able to declare whether education
will eradicate it or not? Unless the cause
removed, the manifestations will
IS
never
intellect and moral power. S. A. J. asserts
"poverty to be the most prolific parent of
crime.*' Doubtless it acts as one potent cir-
cumstance in the development of a large
class of crime; but before it can be thus
developed the criminal nature, or that state
consequent upon partial growth, must exist;
for virtue is not a monopoly of the rich.
How is the rectification of this want — of this
inequality — to be brought about? But it
must not be lost sight of, that the poor are
generally also the ignorant; and it is very
questionable whether the crime that S. A. J.
imagines is caused by poverty would exist to
80 large an extent were the poor better in-
structed. Statistics, as will be presently
shown, fully confirm this opinion; and it
may be maintained — and the result of our
ragged schools bear out the assumption —
that many a criminal would give the neccs- :
sary impulse to his moral nature, did he
know that the course he is pursuing is an
evil one. Having been trained, however, to
believe wrong right, he persists in the belief,
and denounces society for tyrannically re-
straining him. And if we take the scrip-
tural view, as given by F. J. L. in his elabo-
rate and clever article on the negative side,
viz., that sin is consequent upon the fall of
man, we come to much the same result.
Man was so formed that his religious, moral,
intellectual, and physical natures were in
perfect barmoDj; but having fallen — this har
decided defect in the a£Srmative openu^
article, in which I have given a greater ]»«-
dominance to the purely religious edncaticm
than further thought would altogether war-
rant ; for, although I do believe it to be the
highest kind of education, it alone wodU
prove OS ineffectual as that which has for its
end the development of the intellect oolj.
But although the religious education (let it
not be confused with religious instructioD—
the two are very distinct) is insisted on, per-
haps to an extreme, it will, by a carefiil
perusal, be seen that the work of the edu-
cator is not confined to it, but, as the other
powers and capacities of the human being
arc educed, they should be placed in a snb-
servience to the highest natures. And not
only is " education " a very comprehensiTe
term, embracing the process of evolution of
man in his entirety, but also with regard ta
the time over whidi this process is spread-
it is one that commences with the fint dawn
of life and ends only as the eyes are closed
in death. And does it end then? Shall we
not say that then is its true beginning, who)
the being expands and regains the lost inufT
of its divine Creator? Carlyle beautifaUr
says, " The expressly appointed schoolmasters
and schoolings we get are as nothing com-
pared with the unappointed, incidental, and
continual ones, whose school hours an all
the days and nights of our existence, and
whose lessons, noticed or unnoticed, strean
in upon us with every breath we draw.* Tbi
N\«w q€ the development of the entire nai
njonjr do longer existing — one natme \&sa \\i%
predominancej and enslaves the rest. "W\icii\Vvtt\^ «a^xt%R«^\si^ ^xv^>3»s^v&^l twsted
the phyBicsd oatore thus predomVoatca, ^e\\i^ '' C.<»mQ^\feT «»^^«^T -w^^
'*-*
WOULD SDUGATIOM ERADICATE CRIME ?
173
ntioa here to show tlmt oar opponents have
not treated the tnbject in thU light at all.
Tbns B. W. P. pointedly says, " Crime being,
then, not the oflbpring of the intellect— nor,
indeed, for its ezi»tence dependent npon any
state of the intellect — how could the most
carefal, the most refined training of the in-
tellectual powers abate, or, as the question is,
eradicate the evil?" S. A. J. says, " They
forget that education may, indeed, make the
bead more capable of designing, and the
hand more skilful to execute; but that it
cannot aiTect the passions, the inclinations,
and the desires, alike common to the king
and the beggar, the philosopher and the
clown, and to which when unrestrained every
power, both of mind and body, is but an obe-
dient slave.** And F. J. L. cites extracts from
Alison, in which the writer evidently has
reference to a similar kind of education.
The point is granted ; such an education is
not adapted to eradicate crime ; but we have
no right to confine our remarks to any one
phase of it. The gymnast educes the phy-
sical muscles as essentially as the teacher
those of the moral or intellectual natures.
In the third place, we point out the rela-
tion between education and crime. B W. P.
appears to acknowledge the conclusion we
arrive at, for he says, " Crime, then, has its
root in the moral nature of man; if this, the
soil, be well tilled and purified, then is the
rank and noxious weed subdued" This is
granting the very point for which we are
contending. How is this soil to be tilled,
save under some educational process? The
development of the being in his true relation
to God and iJtie world will set evil at de-
fiance by making him superior to the temp-
tation. We know that " for nineteen cen-
turies the purest system of morals we can |
conceive of has been in existence in the
world," and still evil exists; but is it not
because it has been taught to those entirely
unprepared to receive it? We look at reli-
gion as a something to be given by means
of lessons, and forget that, to be made a
ruling principle in the heart, we must grow
mto gooehest; and this growth can only
take place by educating ourselves, by tilling
the schI, affording favourable conditions for
the growth of the divine gem. ** The reli-
gioas life ooosists of an eternal progress
towards the Infinite Perfection." It is a
cootiflna] growth, and the consequence of
the education of tlie religious nature, as
much as the growth of the intellectusl or
physical power is the result of the processes
to which they are submitted. Religion is,
indeed, the highest act of education to which
we can yield ourselves. I must confess I
cannot sympathize with the fear expressed
by S. A. J., that, by educating those at pre-
sent illiterate and contented, we shall inake
them discontented, and implant **in them
new desires they cannot satisfy," and " place
in their hands new resources for attacking
the social edifice." Does S. A. J. intend to
infer that the capacities and faculties of
some men were intended to be developed, and
sonic not? and yet this is the legitimate
conclabion from such an assertion. But it
is impossible, supposing it to be desirable, to
keep these men in ignorance; they will know
something; and the question is, shall they
be taught intelligently or not? They wiU
be politicians, for instance, for many acts of
the legislature afiect them more than the
higher classes: shall they be intelligent poli-
ticians or the reverse? If it be true that
they are at present contented, desiring no
amelioration of condition or intellectual im-
provement; if they will know nothing further
than that they have to receive what their
masters determine to give them, and pay
whatever is demanded of them fur the neces-
sities of existence, asking no questi(His, and
desiring not to know whether they are im-
posed upon or not, we must regret the fact,
and declare most emphatically that it is the
best evidence of a morbid and unhealthy tone
of the whole of their being. But it is not
so. Though in a great measure untrained,
there is a large share of rude intelligence
and inquisitive cariosity among the labouring
masses; and I would put it to S. A. J., to
whom would he prefer committing his worldly
goods, to the instructed artizans of the pre-
sent period, or to the perhaps more contented
but illiterate rabble of any former timef
But S. A. J. maks an admission that is
favourable to our view of the subject, viz.,
'Hhat if the head and the heart are alike
educated, we shall come near to an earthly
paradise." We thank F. J. L. for referrmg
us to Plato*8 ** Meno," and regret that we are
unable to profit, as he intended we should
do, by his reference to Thomson's '* Castle ci
indolence." U Visa WX. V««i ^'mvXsa^ «A.
hence we "wete xuu^\« \» %iA >Jaft \wXi-^as^N
174
WOULD EDUGATIOK ERA1>ICATB CRISKB ?
and W0 cauiDot perceive any relation to the
svbject nnder discosHton in the sixtieth and
siz^-first stMiMit of eithttr t he firot or second
caata Plato does not appear antagonistic.
He sr»j8, indeed, " Virtue can neither come
bj natare, nor be taaght; bat by a divine
fate is present to thote to whom it is prenent
intbout intelligence." We have annerted
prettr much the same thing — that, though
we may educe or develop virtae, actmg in
accordance with our monitionsi of rizht, it is
quite rinpoHsihle to te^ch it. And this seems
to be the gist of Plato's dialogue AnJ,
while accepting F. J. L. s definition of " edu-
cation," and the deductions he draw;* from it,
we cannot allow them all the weight he
appears to desire. M.in in his partially de-
veloped state requires this educative proceNs ;
'* be hart the natural tendency to fall away
from moral rectitude;" but what is the u»e
of the religious discipline, if it does not as
naturally tend to rectify this, and, by a har-
monizing development, cause the tendency to
fo))«»w right to pre<Iominate over that of
dmng evil? Gain this point, and e<1u('4ition
will no lon!:;er be necessary, nor will the
declension from moral rect t ude be natural
Again; he asks if laws ctmid be so multiplied
as " to provide for every contingency that
should occur?** With the eduivition we in-
sist upon we shall leim when we are in-
fringing u|)on the rights of our neighbour;
and, havinitr the divine law of rii^ht implanted
aod «duced in our hearts, and the verbal lawjt
enomiated, ** Do unto others as ye would
that others should do unto y<»u," and ** Love
the Lord thy God with all thy he;irt, and
thy neighbour as thysi-lf," notliing more is
neccAsary. It is next demanded if we vvould
givtt the same education to a gentleman,
banker, stalexman. pn>fessional msn, and the
labourer? We certainly ^houl(l never think
of nutrvctinff these in tlie same manner: but
F. J. L. is here coDfoaoding instraetioo wMi
education. It most not he forgotten thst
there is a substratam on which th«ie acci-
dents are grafted which is oommim alikf to
all ; and while we would instroct the gentle-
man, the banker, and ttie labonrer in those
branches for which he ia likely to feel the
want in after life, we would educate cich to
be men. Many exercises, it cannot be de-
nied, that are given with the simple mtention
of imparting knowledge, have an edacatiosii
tendency ; but, unle»s the idea of devetopioeot
is kept con:itantly in view, the proportieaflf
instruction to the receptive capacity istotallj
lost sight of; and while we may make liria;
cyclopaedias recipients of the opini<ms of i^
ancient and modem philoeophersaod thlDkcn,
not one of MUch opiniona will have been pr*-
perly dij^ested or made their own. And Boir,
lastly, F.J. L. makes extracts from an etfs/
by Alison. I hive not seen the ori^raal
essay, and am unable to test the statistics
he has advanced in support of bis tlteoiy.
Kow can they be reconciled with tho«e pab*
lished by govcmmeut, which, in 1848, Ifiod
were as follow? —
Clasises orCriiniuals.
Femaks.
Those un*ible to read
or write
Those a'»le to rca<l and
write imperfectly .
Those able to read
and write well ....
Those who hnd re-
ceived instruction
superior to the
above
While the centesimal proportion, comptn^
with the four year^* preceding, was: —
Clas-ses of Criminals.
Those unable to read or write
TluNte able to read and write imperfectly
Th«>!te able to read and write well
Those who had received instruction superior to
the above
Thoae whose education had not been ascertained
184t.
184.5.
1816.
1847.
29 77
30 61
30 66
3139
.W28
58.U
59 51
58 39
8 12
8 38
7 71
7 79
•42
•37
•34
•2S
241
2 30
171
1-65
•27
|-5>
TbmB retnna clesrl j speak, lor x!b«nn^vO) «^tv^ x^vt« w» t^^soccEi^v
WOULD BDUCATIOn BRADICATB GRIMK ?
175
And BOW I ]mt« the sobject in tbe b»nd«
flf our readers, wad beg to thank the iiffirm«-
thre wtiitn for tJMir mhh tapport, uid tboie
in the negative for the kindly spirit in whidi
the diacoeaion has been proMcntad.
G. P. W.
ITEGATIYE REPLT.
Tub fint p«rt of onr dntj is tiie corree-
tioD (t( two errors of the printer, which
occur in oar opening article, aiid which are
just nnfortonate enoagh to giro inconida-
tcney of ezpretttioo, wtthoat being so palpa-
bly erroneous as to correct themselves. In
one of them we are made to saj that we
would not **onderrate" the eradication of
crime hj certain methods whieb only tended
to a diminution; and in the other we are
made to identify lecalar edocatinn with
education exeluAive of tbe ** mental " facul-
ties^ The snhatitmioD of mtdertake for
'* nnderimte," and of morcU for ''mental/'
will restore cuDsistency to the«e p«»ii^;es.
If there bad lingered in onr mind at the
time we penned that article any misgiTiogs
as to the position we had chosen, such mis-
gjirings woaki be efftrctnatly dispelled at the
point to which we are eoiiie. At any rate,
having adopted tbe negation, we will not
DOW dinown it. Confirmed by the anani-
mons te»timony of fri«*nd and foe, it com-
mends iuelf to our support, not only as ihe
tmih of our adoption, but also as a truth
sltc^etber conceded to ns. Do we reckon
wiih«iiit onr host? It were poor gains to
oor cause to do so, its well as contrary to
our practice; and were we not certam of
snb^tantlating oor calculation, we would not
rest a tnomph on so sorry an expedient.
ImpMrtial reader, you who have folh>wed
the Clint roversy from beginning to end, we
pnt it to you whether <mr assert inn as to
the nnanimoos testimony to the inefiiciency
of education to eradicate crime be not a
warrantable one. For you will obtierve, that
aJthnii^h a specific has been found, end
named by the name of education, and gua-
raatei^ (by two out of three advocates with-
out doubt or dmwbaek) to be the true
ifstorative to m<irsl iniMcence, that speeitic
bas nol been edueatiom in the reOKiTed senM
of the term, that is to say, in the sense
meant in the terms of the inquiry. We will
quote from each of our friends opposed to us
in conlirmatbn of this statement. *' Edncao
cation," says O. P. W., '' in ito highest phai»e
is eMsntiaUy a nligiMa act* U it.iba da-
velopmeni of the religions feelings and
motions in the heart, a continoal cultivation
of reverence, veneration, and obedience to
God, and love to our feiiow-creatures**— (no-
thing less than the enforcement of t lie deea>
logne, it will be observed); while to make as
quite sure that his standard ia thus the
loftiest of its kind, we are cautioned against
the notiin that religious instruction is
'* mere training in connexion with Mime of
the nuinerutts denominations of Chriatians,
instruction in crrdal catechisms, or vt'rbal
repetitions of scriplnrs tezts^" It is fm
educj«ti»n so holy in its purpose, and »*o un-
tiring in its work, that the yery " canoes of
sin,*" in relntion to one class of crrminals. an
to be "done away with," and even "those
grown aged in »in are not to be abundoned."
"Dromo** follows in the same wake He
says, " The reason crime is so prevalent is,
not bfcuune religion forms a pnrt of oor
ediicatii>n, hut because religion is not pro^
perhf tauffht. For many years pa^tt we
have hsd, not christian, but nectarian doc-
trines taught in our schools. When the day
comes that a new order of things previiils—
sectariani.-m suppcrtsd by pure religions-
then the children, upon becoming men, will
consider crime as not only an outrage upon
man, hut as an outrage upon G<i«t. and first
hate, then hhun it." Asain: *' Make a man
not only know, hnt /eel the performance ef
a certain act ion to be a crime, and he will
Hbstam frtjm it." "Cosmopolite** is still
more uiuiiiittakable: " The subject of edu-
cation is man, in all tbe vastness and mys-
tery of his nature, as the off-pring and
image of the Supreme; the obJH;t of i-dtt-
cation is spiritual life; the period uf educa-
tion indudes the whole duration of the pre-
sent state of being. Education or cult mm
being a dexign, running like a thread through
life, aotl entering the regions of the unaeen
and eternal, is lost to mortal sight, and ends
we know not where.*' Again: '* Thr spi^ific
fur moral evil is the influx of etrrnal Uiva."
Such, then, is etlucation according to our
rrieniis. 1 1 is far ahead of our question, inaa-
mni-h as the actual rarefication of tbe earthly
176
WOULD EDUCATION ERADICATE CRIME?
into the heavenly was not demanded, but we
have no reason to qoarrel on that account.
Nor is it our purpose to restrict the
applicability of the term education. Our
friends may apply it, if they choose, to that
process whereby man is brought to an ob-
know perfectly well, at the same tioM, that
religion was a high species of edacatjoo.
Education, as practical amoagst as, has not,
in the whole range of her moral chemistij,
a process whereby such a ccmversion may be
effected in poor humanity— captivated bj
aerrance of divine law, and prepared for a I temptation, and too willing to transgress in
higher state than the present. That there
is such a process, all who believe in moral
spite of knowledge — as that hencefonrard
these circumstances of its condition shall be
government will acknowledge; some think, subdued; and, according to G. P. W., "the
religious feelings and motions developed to
the heart;" or, according to "Dromo,"
** Crime hated, then shunned; man made to
taught, the heart touched, powers of good- feel, so that abstinence from crime shin
with " Cosmopolite " and his friends, that it
is a process chiefly communicable through
direct human agency, by which the mind is
ness inherent in man's nature arc educed,
his love of virtue developed till it becomes
perfect, and the subject of it assimilated to
God himself. Others believe it to be a divine
appliance whose agencies comprehend, be-
sides human ud, all the connexions and
circumstances of life; which disciplines for
follow as a result." Education, in the sense
meant, is not ** a specific for moral evil," as
averred by " Cosmopolite," nor does the
'' pcrio<l of its operation include the wboie of
a man's being, extending into the regions of
the unseen and eternal," but necMsarilf,
from its very purpose, it is to fit for temporal
duty by experience ; by life's sorrows educing i duties, while from the di£Bcultie8 which lie
ability of endurance; by its blessings, con- i in the way of study in aji^, it is confined to
secration, and love, comprehending, more- , the earlier part of life. We aay, " purpose to
over, as its grand distinction, a more direct
method for freeing the spirit from sin, nnd
uniting it to God.
fit for temporal duties," in confidence that
the terms of the debate justify ns here ia
I thus confining the province of education, fcr
Now, whether our friends may confine ; it would show a ridiculous exa^i^eratioD, or
themselves to the first of these processes, or, I rather, a ridiculous unappredation in osr
after due consideration, see the propriety of ! calculations of means and ends, to inquire if
incorporating with it the second (and we a process producing spiritual l{fe would era*
think they will be anxious to incorporate at ; dicate an evil belonging to an inferior state
least a portion of it ; for although they may of existence. Study Eidocation in her r^
not care much about their credit as theolo-
^ans, they will not endanger their reputa-
tion as philosophers so much as to deny the
educative character of experiejice), we say
that, whatever be their regenerating system,
still it is not education in the sense meant
cords, in the reports of her commissiooen;
or, if these be found wanting, in the sao*
guine theories in which she still lemaiBS
untried, so that you do not trench nponaaoDe-
thing else known as reliffian, and you will
discover no purpose of ^ spiritual life." Tbi
in the terms of our inquiry. Not education | process leading to it is beyond her pretennoDi
in the sense in which the word is cur- | It would seem, however, that in the ease
rent amongst us^not education in the
sense which the originators of this debate
designed it to be understood. To sup-
pose that it is, is to suppose, either that
they are inattentive to propriety of terms in
framing an inquiry, which of all errors they
would be the least likely to commit, or to
involve them in the more serious suspicion
of advertising a debate as on a popular
question, which debate was designed to be
on M (joestion possessing no peculiarity of
popnlBT interest, if they had meanX \ft \ii-
^OiTTB if religion would eradicate cnm« xVie^ \ isvxwivVj ^twsi wvsosk \f they bt placid ia
froo/d ii«re Mid religion, Ihougji tiie^ ifo\M\Q:uc^\MXaa«»^x^'^ ^ ibsK v;RP^>«afo-
of one of our friends, at least, there ia not
that complete faith which generally preoedei
a guarantee, and which his devotioa arast
have deemed desirable. Even the ^itsa
which he has unwittingly assisted to mti
forth with borrowed creidentials does sot
seem to commend itself to his oonfidcaea to
the extent it is trusted by his less serapi>
Ions brethren; though how G. P. W^ after
having avowed such a hypothetical doctiiM^
as that, in the case of one class — the igsa-
rant^ ** Education would eivs tbesa sa in-
WOULD EDUCATION ERADICATE CRIME?
177
ably to their animal natures,** coold leap
the gap between it and the conclusion that
^' edacation taken in hand in nn earnest and
nniveraal spirit will eradicate crime," is a
DiTsterj, doubtless, clear to his own mind,
bat which he has certiunlj forgotten to
make clear to others. ^* Dromo " and " Cos-
mopolite" venture a full warranty, outspoken
and absolute; the former in particular, with
a valour which is quite refreshing in these
daj8 of degeneracy, ** dares any one to deny
that an education, intellectual, moral, reli-
gions, and practical, will make a man detest
crime as he would a serpent;" by the way,
an iDfelicltous association of thought, seeing
that there prevails a previous association of
the serpent with crime, the serpent being
the aUurer and conqueror of human nature,
which, if but a figure, is yet a true repre-
sentation of the fascinating nature of crime.
Now, with due respect for your sincerity,
** Dromo," but with none for your defiance,
we do deny your absolute doctrine, and,
were it necessary, we should not hesitate to
Join issue with you and your friends upon
it, granting you for a moment your explica-
tion of education, and to show that the
hypothetical doubtful thesis admitted by
jour leader, G. P. W., is the more becoming ;
and that you have committed as gieat an
error by over-estimating the merits of your
ajstem, as that which you fell into by bor-
rowing them for the occasion. What data
have you more than we possess to determine
the matter? You may glorify the future,
hat yoa cannot draw inferences from it;
these must come from the past, for which
yoa have so little respect; and certainly the
past will not befriend yoti. If you had
Bade a discovery, if your system of ednca-
tion, "intellectual, moral, religious, and
practical," differed essentially from that
which our forefathers have handed down to
OS, joar argument would lie in the discovery
itielf, ont of the jurisdiction of opposers.
Bat yoa do not maintain originality in this
matter. We cannot understand, as we in-
timated at the outset of the debate, that
700 have purer ethics to teach, higher car-
ina! virtues to enforce, better rules of
aocial duty to inculcate among mankind
than those understood already. We really
caonot admit that men have been so igno-
lant of these, or that \hey have been bo
jmrttM^j' iaeaJaUed bjr sectariHimm, that
in such ignorance or partial instruction may
be found the reason why these laws have
not operated to a greater extent to the
prevention of crime. This is a serions
point of difference between us, and one,
therefore, which ought to be fairly considered
and fairly dealt with by both parties. Grant-
ing that rules have not been fully appre-
hended, and granting, further, that a fuller
knowledge of them would have been followed
by a proportionate effect upon crime, we ask,
Is there a man amongst us who sins against
his neighbour, who would not, were the in-
justice done to himself, reason upon his
wrong with the utmost nicety of morality?
If there be, we should say, he is an unpro-
mising subject for education. Kight and
wrong have their life in a man*s own con-
sciou:iness — rules arc but their abstraction.
The secret power of the golden rule is in'
the very appeal which it makes to this in-
herent sense. Is it right, then, to make
ignorance a chief point of our preamble, even
though it should be true that sometimes the
knowledge within perceives but a dim reflec-
tion of itself in rules without? Or, if it be
insisted upon as essential to an understand-
ing of principles, that there shall be an
application of them by outer influences so
that what knowledge the mind already pos*
sesses in its own consciousness shall be
thereby educed and matured, then we point
to examples, unhappily too notorious to be
called in question. It is well known that
what is termed polished society shares in
the common affliction occasioned by delin-
quent members. We might take the ine-
briate man, the sensual, or the gambler, or
the union of the three. He is a gentleman,
a scholar, perhaps a dirine — quite a possible
case. Here there is no ignorance of law,
divine or human. Motives which among
other men might be but feeble, are here
strcn;;thcned by a variety of circumstances.
Self-i*espcct, consistency, recognition of du-
t ies arising out of superior attainments and
station, and the maintenance of so exalted a
position, might be expected to have the
utmost influence which motives possess.
Yet have they all failed. Though backed
by the penalties of disobedience in their
most costly, conflscating form, which might
be presumed the most effective in the caa^
of tenacious ^lamui hsXwt^— ^wi.^ 'OaA
transgressor haa \)eeti t^^sjcuX^ Va.^^ ^s^*
178
WOULD EDUCATIOK ERADTCATE CRniE?
nary sencte of the term, and then morally Should our friends repudiate such a
educated by eren a higher proceed than it theory, and confine their profeaaions to an
appears to ua our fiicnds speak of, ina*- | improved adaptation of faculties and mma
much as it is a procecs in which, by the I already existing, an eqnally absurd set of
•wise arrangements of Providence, crime it- i conditions is involved. There must be this
self, the very thing it is their object to era- I perfect acquaintance on the part of the
dicate, is a means, by being, as it were, the teacher with the differing capabilities and
lightning of the
destructive, and
moral atmosphere, self-
subservient to ultimate
characters of his pupils, and his ^jstem
must give him entire control over their cm-
good— though religion has nrged her claims ' duct and even over their feelings (according'
in tender accents, bespeaking the affections to "Dromo"), while under his care, uxl
by her own peculiar graces of love and
mercy, — yet is obedience not secured, plainly
confirming the testimony of all experience.
also supply an automaton power which »ball
act with unceasing regularity thronghoat
life; else is crime not eradicated. With a
that human passions may not be sanctified, being so singularly inapt to teach as roan m
though kept in check by education and general, havmg againt^t him refractorin«i>
other influences, and in some cases, by their just in its vigour, tcgether with the newlj
assistance, approximated to the holy.
We think there can be little more said
npon the subject; and we are quite sure that,
from a desire not to be wanting in due
attention to our friends, we have pursued it
far beyond what the occasion demanded.
We have shown, first, that there has been a
departure from the usual signification of the
term education, and which signification was
intended by the terms of the debate; and
we have next shown, that, even allowing
such a departure, there are no grounds for
supposing the object attainable. If, after
all, our friends will adhere to a system,
some theory which, passing under the de-
signation of "intellectual, moral, religious,
and practical,** is yet independent of what
we know belonging to intellect, morals, reli-
gion, and practice, and therefore inaccessible
to our reasoning, see what their theory
involves :— an undefinable means of attaining
to innocence; its teachers models of inno-
cence, having such a remarkable power of
insight as to completely ken the several
diverse mental constitutions, characters, and
dispositions of every subject of their instruc-
tions; able, besides, to make a child feci
what is right (for " Dromo" will have him
to feel as well as know it), and so accurately
to apply the system to each and every indi-
vidual, that, although the passions will still
exist, and temptations allure as before, a
complete and universal freedom from crime
shall be ensured. It must be a freedom
entire in indrviduals, and imiversal through.
<mt the world; for eradication lueanA ivo-
tbing Jess than this. A partial iietdom Ha \>Jti\xi^'«^Vw^ wA.. Hlbm a friend
JWt the object of the inquiry. \ Um u%^vs«syasi\»v«w»Ni«a^a«*.'f(^^
awakened passions, formed for gratification,
but as yet unfortified against the abuse of
it, the training of youth into the contem-
plated obedience must be impossible of at-
tainment; and, at the risk of being deemed
a heretic, we will venture to say, was new
intended in this heterogeneous worid of
ours. What "Dromo** calls "a dirinelT-
attcsted command,*' viz., ** Train up a child,'
&c., we should rather consider a statenMot
of ordinary result, by no means unexcep-
tionable; and one of the best proofs we ess
give of this is the history of him who gaie
utterance to these words.
Considering that eradication has a pir-
tial meaning, we were the more surprised t»
see a ** neutral article** on this qnestioa
Our friend " Sigma ** has a wise mistrust <f
extremes, but in the present instance he btf
been unsuccessfully cautious. We imapse
the opposition must have said, on readiog
his article, " Ue that is not with ns is
against us.** To the query "Sigma*
addressed to ourselves, as to " whether
cation has done nothing to check crime? '^
we reply. Yes, a great deal ; which he wil^
find acknowledged in our former artide>—
How ** Sigma " could mistake na here, aa<^
how he discovers that we deem "educatie^^
at variance with the Bible," we are
to understand. We know that many
have great reverence fur edacatien,
little for the book which contains the
of all morality: but that we supposed
education and the Bible were an*
VA sl misapprehenuon, not supported by anj
^■-j^•
OUGHT THB GRANT TO MAYNOOTH TO BE WITHDRAWN?
179
he is genenUy ga^^Msed to discern the prfr;
ciae points of difference ; bomrever, as " Sigma "
has given us snch good ass'iHtance in the
Biain question, it would be unfrrateful on
our part to make reflections. So, hftlding
oat to him and to all our friends the frater- i
nal hand, we bid them God-speed, assuring
them that althongh differing from them as
to what comes within the bounds of accom-
plishment, we are their fellow-he1]>er8 in the
work of education.
B. W. P.
^k\i\m.
OUGHT THE GRANT TO l^IAYNOOTH TO BE WITHDRAWN ?
AFFIRMATIVE REPLY.
I FULLY agree with X. in the antiquity
and untrersality of the religious tendencies
of mankind, in the general influence of re-
hgion upon the public and private duties of
men, and in the dutj of lulers to encourage
the religious development of the people; but
I cannot dinne the process by which X.,
from these premises, arrives at the concln-
sion that it is the duty of government to
provide any one^ or anif number of rtUgiom,
for the people. The question is not, does
the constitution provide for an establish-
ment; but does truths equity, and taw, permit
the particular grant to Maynooth, or not.
I have already shown in page 1 13, on the
authority of Paley, that, even admitting the
Protestant establishment to be allowed and
allowable, consistency and truth require the
^nthdrawal of tlie grant from Maynooth,
because, "if the provision which the law
uugns to the support of religion be extended
^ tmrious sects and denominations of Chris-
^VU} there exists no national religion or
cstaUisbed church, according to the sense
^hich these terms are usually made to convey ;"
"j^ OQ the other hand, were the Protestant
^^cli in Irehuid to be severed from the
*^{^ «tnd its resources withdrawn entirely,
^J''«tifiable reason would be given by this
^fj**** to endow Maynooth, or any other
S^^ ^f religious development. The ques-
^^ '■''feadly at issue would be literally un-
H^Jl^^^ ; therefore the high-sounding, sterco-
j^'^^^^ielamations of our utilitarian friends
^^^^ siiiomaly of the Irish church, and the
^^ ^ ^ the " two great churches" of the
^""^^Jie injustice to Ireland^ the "first
*^*^ the ocean" and " land of the brave,**
iw wide of the qaestioD at Issue.
It is beating the bushes in the dark, while
the citadel is far diatant in safety and jieace.
I grant Ireland i:) misgoverned — sadly mis-
governed— and, withal, priest-sidden to per-
fection. These are topics which it is our
bounden duty, as men and brethren, to con-
sider, and, as far as in us lies, to amend ; but
let us attend to these at a proper time, or
egregious folly attaches to our conduct. The
question now before us is. Ought the grant
to Maynooth to be withdrawn? I say, to bo
consiiitent with truth, it ought to be with-
drawn ; because man is a voluntary agent,
religion is a personal, individual matter, and
religious exertions are necessarily of the
same nature as the sources from which they
spring, viz., voluntary; therefore their sup-
port and adoption cannot be compulsory.
The grant ought also to be withdrawn on
the principles of equity. The grant is made
from the Consolidated Fund, the general
revenue of the country — from the taxes paid
by every individual, whether he be Protestant,
Catholic, or Du^ienter. Each is compelled
to contribute his share, according to the
use he makes of the taxed articles in the
supply of his daily wants and necessities;
thus he cannot escape from the burden, bow-
ever onerous it be to his conscience, as to
escape would necessitate a breach of the
civil law, by his refusal to pay taxes. More-
over, his refusal to pay taxes involves his
refusal of the common necessaries of life;
hence, to escape the payment of his share of
the expenses of Maynooth, he must escape
from the world, or at least from the nation.
Now, I affirm that this is " the greatest in-
justice of modexiv \.\tu%%^ IcwecA. "S..> 't^tfsa.
" the teeming rn>\«&\«Dit. isA \S\s!i«d!6»%
180
OUOHT THE GRANT TO MAYKOOTH TO BE WITHDRAWN?
population" of England, Ireland, and Scot-
land are required to paj for the propagation
of that which is inimical to the best interests
of the community — which professedly seeks to
destroy their national prosperity, and deprive
them of the glorious liberty to think, feel, and
act as conscience dictates, and the statute-
hook of the great Eternal commands. It
cannot be validly objected to this, that the
Irish Protestant cburch exacts tithes, church
rates, and such things, from the Irihh Roman
Catholic; these undoubtedly are unjust ex-
tortions, but the Papist and Dissenter stand
on equal footing here. They may resist;
their loss, in this case, is bounded by the
forcible distraint upon a portion of their
effects, and still they may enjoy the neces-
saries of life, with many of its comforts, and
preserve a clear conscience. Compare the
two cases — the grant to Maynooth from the
Consolidated Fund, and the support of the
Irish Protestant churcli by tithes and church
rates. Both arc unjust; but, if there can be
degrees in injustice, surely that which de-
prives man of sustenance to avoid the in-
fringement of conscience is the monster in-
justice. Kefiect also, friend X., that Ireland
and England are precisely in the same rela-
tion to the establishment. Church rates and
tithes arc forced from Dissenters and Papists
in the latter as well as in the former. There
appears to me something so hollow, so un-
sound, in the rantings of those who would
be considered the fast friends of Ireland and
true patriots — who parade the long-coined
and much-used phrases of justice to Ireland
and religious equality for her children, while
they add by their influence and their oratory
to that incubus which oppresses the Irish,
which has destroyed their manliness, taught
her brave sons and her fair daughters trea-
chery, deceit, low cunning, and every vice
which can distort the fair proportions of her
frank, open, ardent, and sincere soul. Out
upon such false friends! Give me the heart
that will raise and exalt its fellow — that will
make common cause against the direst foe
of man, an intolerant priesthood — that will
not only assist the injured and oppressed,
but will enter the arena and iight side by
side with him for his rights, civil and reli-
gious. How better can this be done than by
withdrawiDg the grant from ^laynootVi^ «xid
give them the truth, not poUated by tht
course through which it has pasted, bat the
pure, unadulterated truth. Give them the
truth, and with it power to make it their
own; then shall Ireland, ''first gem of the
ocean," shine bright as the stare in the
firmament of heaven, and become the pride
of her sister, England, as she is now her
shame.
The province of tho legislature is to let
religion alone. She is too delicate to be
handled by our earthly Soloru without pol-
lution. She thrives best when mitouched.
Her gossamer wings are better fitted to fka
the soul of penitent man into a state of bes-
venly peace, than to be roughly handled,
clipped, and trimmed by the makera of varie-
gated parchment at Westminster. Her mis-
sion is to go up and down in the worid,
giving consolation to the afflicted, binding
up the brokenhearted, upraising the dowL-
trodden and oppressed, giving to the peni-
tent peace, to the despairing hope, and to
the faithful a crown of glory which &deth
not away. But, should some of the votaritt
of the fair damsel forget their proper
place, and, forsaking the province ci Xhfat
angelic guide, encroach upon their assodats
and seek to limit their freedom, tnunple
upon their conscience, interrupt the free de-
velopment of their religious aspiratioos, or
counteract the discharge of the social datiei
of life, then, and not until then, is the legis-
lature permitted to act. It is the duty d
the state not only itself to let religion akoe,
but it is bound also to see that individoab
or communities let the religion of other in-
dividuals or conununities alone; that is, etch
one has the right to enjoy his opinioD, and
bear the expense of propagating it peacefoUj:
and the state is bound to protect him in the
enjoyment of this right, without let or hin-
drance from his fellow. Farther than this,
the state rightly interferes only in those esses
where the infraction of the civil law is taof^ht
as a part of religion, and the safety of the
slate thereby imperilled. Upon these Utter
grounds I consider it the duty of the legis-
lature to withdraw the grant to Maynooth
and discountenance the Roman OatboKe re-
ligion. Here then, friends X. and H. P., with
J. G. R., come, let us walk together; jw
de&lre that truth, justice, and law tbcnU
sending a numerous band of "voVuikVanea V>\^«A^^\>2^%^^>AWi>^\v^^clamoar,iMrpltB^
Vacate, not liie priesU, but the Y^TjVe— \»\\a\\X.1,^^^ Y»^«^^^^'^''^'»^^^
OUGHT TIIK (;i:.VNT TO M AYNOCTII To \\K WITHfilLA WN ?
1.^
t. 1
1 wish the same; but let us be* consistent.
If the church of England and the church of
Ireland are made by our constitution charge-
able upon all the people of our country, let
US unitedly admit the wrong, the error, of
such a state of things, and endeavour to
reform so great a political abuse and religious
insult— an insult alike injurious to our rea-
son and our common Christianity. Do not
let us add another abuse — inflict another
injury — in the shape of a sub-establishment.
Let us endeavour to destroy this anomalous
state of afikirs in this our fatherland. Let
us give to man his individuality, his per-
sonal responsibility to God and his own con-
science, by endeavouring within our re-
spective spheres to propagate the principles
of civil and religious liberty, fraternity, and
equality.
J. G. R. has very kindly given us a
homily on moderation in the advocacy of our
own opinions, and on forbearance and respect
in our opposition to the opinions of others.
£very christian man will sincerely thank
liim for his generous and afiectionate advice.
I cordially agree with him that but little
can be done with violence and abuse towards
convincing a person of opposite sentiments.
How gratifying to the christian is the thought
that his holy religion teaches an affectionate,
painstaking boldness in the maintenance of
christian truth, and repudiates bitter, acri-
monious railing in the opposition of error.
The blessed Redeemer with pity and com«
passion denounced the errors of men, warning
them to flee the wrath to come because he
loved them, and was willing to give himself
a ransom for their guilt. He is our model ;
and I feel assured my readers will agree
with me, that the more nearly we can
imitate Jemts in our manner of life, the more
effective shall we be in convincing others of
error, in correcting ourselves, and attaining
to a fuller realization of truth in its essential
jmritj.
The first three gentlemen who have taken
tbe negative in the present debate arc, I
feel ooniSdent from their articles. Dissenters.
As sach I would ask them. Why are you
Dissenters? If you support the endow-
ment of any religious body, do you not
violate your principles — do you not forsake
your DODConformity? Is not this one of
the fonndation-skH?«5 of your mncii -loved
diumf, »ad oae upon which the fair fabric
is so securely based — wilJin^^Uood? Vou
were not, my friends, compelled to be Dis-
senters; it is a matter of free choice with
you ; do, therefore, be consistent A house
divided against itself cannot stand; neither
can dissent be in our heart a living principle,
and the advocacy of state endowment, priest-
craft, and intolerance be found on our lips,
without damaging our character for consis-
tency, and raising suspicions of our sincerity
in the observer of our religious life. Dis-
senters, remember, too, the old fable of the
husbandman and the viper: in his sympathy
for its sufferings he carried it home to his
hearth; no sooner had it gained strength
from his fostering care than it stung the
kind hand which had preserved it from
death. I need not point out the analogy. You
know the past history of the man of sin;
you see something of his present workings,
and can predict the future, as so much de-
pends on your own sayings and doings now.
That the truth will ultimately prevail I have
no doubt; but much depends on its friends
when it shall prevail.
I will now leave these quasi Protestants,
these psetido Dissenters, these apocryphal
Nonconfonnists, whose high-flying professions
of willinghood manifest their want of com-
prehension of the elementary principles of
Nonconformity, and will, for a little while,
engage the attention of the reader with the
remarks of friend " Stanislaus." It is pos-
sible that my previous observations on this
subject may appear shallow to a person of
such astonishing erudition and politesse as
" Stanislaus,*' from the manner in which he
pronounces judgment, evidently is ; but I
must demur to the succeeding charge of
bigotry and misconstruction. 1 understand
bigotry to be the assumption that what one
says is absolute truth, and every other indi-
vidual is bound to believe it, and has no
right to dispute the assumption. The reader
will perceive that I have advocated those
principles which make it the imperative duty
of every Christian to think and act for him-
self, without let or hindrance from others,
they having no right to interfere by any
other means than persuasion, and the indi-
vidual man being responsible to God alone
for what he believes. How far the Roman
Catholic Church g;raxvt& wj\\ wv^. T«?cv^ts<»
liberty to bet t\i\\dteu\>Mcs^«\\^Tft^i'«i»'Cv:«^'»
and would now a\n\^\'y «j^ ^ ^vwJi^^iA'^ "w
182
OUGHT THE OfUkUT TO 1LA.YNOOTII TO DX WITHDRAWS 7
look at tie history of bis church, written by in 18S6 (see page 38), and to the eridtnccaf
its own members, for irrefraf^able proofs of i Mr. P. O'Brien, a stadent for six jears in
bis error upon this point With respect to j this college, as mentioned bj J. C. IfO^ Jdil,
the money Talue of the grant, it is, doubtless, ' in page 63. Beferenoes to the holy acriptorei
paltry compared with the resources of the j may be found in many d the writings of tlie
Frotctttant Church of England and Ireland; Romish Church; but our subject confines
but I submit that the commission of a great us to what is dime at Maynooth in this le-
evil does nut legalize the perpetration of a '■ spect, upon which the evidence adduced bj
less. As to '* Stanislaus's ** assertion that J. C. M*G., Jun., and myself will be foonl
"there is no church more anxious that its quite conclusive, as the authority from whence
support should depend on the voluntary con- they are derived cannot be impugned. Tbt
tributions of its adherents than the Catholic ' observations of " Stanislaus" on the qoestioa
Church," I must say that he is either entirely of oaths is so transparent that I shall odr
ignorant of the practices of his church, or he | remark that he admits all I claim, viz., that
has wilfully perverted the facts of the case, j prelates and spiritual superiors can and do
What is more compulsory than the injunc- | prohibit the lidty and inferior clergy from the
tions in the following extracts from the due performance of their oaths; and, so fv
" Statuta Dioccesana per Provinciam Dublini- I from the Popish clergy discountenancing tlw
ensim, 1831''? — "We have gone so far in , oath-breaker and the murderer, the secret
defining the sum of the dues, which may be | in»tmctions of the Jesuits and thedenunds-
KXACTKD;" and "we appoint a rule to be tions from the altar, so familiar to us in theM
equally observed by all.*' Again : — " Let days, are something more than suppositim
them be bound to pay the dues." How are that they do encourage those crimes when
these understood by the Romish priests, and the interebts of the church are coocened.
how are the luity made to understand them? | That our friend is guilty of misrepreseDts-
In answer I refer to Butter's " Catechi»m," | tion, or grossly erroncons in his obserratiws
twenty-bizth edition, sanctioned by tlie Ka- j respecting heresy and the expulsion of heiv-
tional Board of Education for Ireland, where tical princes, is evident from the &ct that
we read that the fifth command of the church the works from which my quotations tre
is, " To contribute to the support of our j originally derived are returned by the aatbo-
pastors." " Question. Do. the precepts of the rities of Maynooth as the standards for re-
church oblige under pain of mortal sin? I ference, both by professors and students. Dr.
Ansicer. Yes; he that will not hear the i Crotty gives evidence thus: — ^*Tke shide^
church, let him be to thee as the heathen refer to them onljf on points which tkty art
and the publican." — P. 48. " Q, Where supposed to treat more at large or more cor-
rectly,' by these words proving that thejare
considered the authorities to decide any csk
of doubt which may arise in the oonne d
the students experience, both during his
shall they go who die in mortal sin? A. To
hell for all eternity^' Here those of the
laity who do not pay any dues the clergy
may determine upon exacting from them are
condemned to perdition for all eternity. , college course and after he has received
What an awful and presumptuous assumption ' priest's orders and appcuntmeut to s au«;
of power by a number of fallible men! How for even then he is required by the IHoccssb
degrading is the b<mdage under which the lay ^ Statutes to read the bot>ks he has previoiuK
members of this church are held! Where is | studied at college; and to secure the doe per-
the voluntaryism of your church, friend formancc of this duty he is examined at the
*' Stanislaus"? The compulsory character of periodical conferences of the clergy in tlKse
the Established Protestant Church can only books, at which conferences be must bs pre-
claim by law the possession of a portion of sent under pains and penalties. That these
our goods; but here your church claims the doctrines were promulgated at a particidtr
entire control, present and prospective, of time, long ago, for a particular purpose, and
the body and the soul. That the Bible is have now become obsolete, is strangely is-
Dot used at Maynooth, either as a class-book, correct. Dr. Crotty gave his testimony to
fiar reference, or for devotionti puriposea, \ ^\.\v«ft^ 'vwVa being standards of antherity ot
ro/br to the list of books handed by Dt.CtoW^ \V«>% y*^^*^^ '^^ \%*«*> %bb&. ^!ba Diecesas
MDd bis coiieagaes to the royal comm\a»oiM!ia S\.iX\»X«^, <L^soSvxTO«i^\i» ^sjicnaaft^ ^^^ws^^
OUGHT TH« GRANT TO MAYSOOTH TO BB WITIIDRAWa?
18<
were promaijifated in 1831, and continue in
force, there is no doubt, to the present koyr.
Historic evidence affords proof of manj a
Galileo punished by the Pupal Charch fur
their discoreries and inventions; and ** Sta-
nislaus** must be but indifferently rnid in
liiatorr not to have known better than to deny
this. Permit me to inform mj errin^r friend
that "the same people located in America**
:ire reallv more happj, more prosperous, and
more intelligent than in their native Ireland,
because they leave their " Popery," with its
degrading superstitions, behind them in Ire-
land. So soon as their weary feet touch the
land of their adoption they breathe a new
life, because they are free to think and feel
for themsclvM, and worship their God ac-
cording to the dictates of their own con-
science, without the intervention of a priest.
On this subject 1 refer the reader to Arch-
bishop Uu<;:hes*s letter to his brethren in Ire-
land, in which certain calculations arc made,
to the effect that the whole of the Koman
Catholics now in the United States do not num-
ber a twenty-fifth part of the Roman Catholic
emigrants from Great Britain and Ireland
and their descendants. This speaks volumes.
Only one in twenty-five retain their belief in
Popery when freed from the domination of
the priesthood. Hence there are two plain
inferences to be drawn. Give the people a
Papal hierarchy, and they become poor, dis-
contented, and miserable : give them freedom
from such domination, and they become
prosperous, happy, and contented.
On page 145 ** Stanislaus " says : — " Well
does the Catholic Church know that the
decay of every other church is chiefly retarded
by the arm of the state.** So our friend does
not know that the papacy is a state church !
— does not know that the Pope, the head of
that church, is a temporal prince also! — that
he claims descent from the twelve Ccesars no
Ie» than from the twelve apostles! But
''Stanislaus*' must have known this. We
win not say he affects to be ignorant of it.
On page 147 we have a slander upon the
Albigenses, who are said to have " believed in
two CrMtors, two Christs; taught that their
flools were demons, prohibited marriage, with
such-like vileness.** Compare this with the
following account of their doctrines, as found
in a work written in 1190 by th&ie perse-
cated people:—** They taught the origin of
sin in the fall of Adam ; its transmission to
all men, and the offered redemption from it
through the death of Jesus Chnst; the union
and co-operation of the three persons in the
blessed Trioity in man*s salvation.'* But
they also protested against masses for the
dead, against purgatory, against the powet
of priests to absolve sin, and against the
Rombh system generally. This was the
reason why they were termed ** heretics'* by
the Council of Constance. We are surpris^
that our opponent should hare mentioned
the prohibiti m of marriage as one of the
marks of the:>e *' heretics," when it is essen-
tially the mark of the Koman priesthood.
Has it escaped the notice of " Stanislaus,**
that the individual he refers to in ])age 148
was, at the time when he was alleged to
have been guilty of immorality, a priest of
great honour and dignity in the Romish
Church, and that, as such, the facilities for
the practice of alleged immoralities were
afforded? and is it not proved in evidence
that no censure or punishment was ever in-
flicted upon him by that church until after
he repudiated its doctrines? Then he, in
common with all accused of heresy, is accused
of immorality and vice. Surely the reference
to this case will not further our friend's
cause?
'* Stanislaus** rather contemptuously refers
to " the rauliitudinons creeds" of Protestant-
ism, and exultingly of "the one creed** of
Pupery. Is it not a well-known fact that
the disputes between the Jesuits and the
Janseuists were in points similar to the dis-
putes between the Calvinists and Armenians
of the Protestant Church? Is not the his-
tory of the Roman Church the history of its
differences and its divisions? Are there not
the Church party and the Ultramontanes, to
vie in their animosities with the Puseyites
and Evangelicals of the Protestants? Do
not the Dominicans, the Franciscans, the
Carmelites, the Trappists, the Quietists, and
the Visitaodincs, differ from each other and the
rest of the Romish Church at least as much
as the Lutherans, the Calvinists, the Pres-
byterians, the Wesleyans, the Baptists, and
the Independents differ from each other?
These latter do maintain the whole of the
essentials of salvation ; but it is very qoea-
tionable if some sections of the Romish
Church which 1 Vi&7« TEAu>}tfRk»i ^<e^ ^>&.
184
OUGHT THB ORAHT TO KATNOOTH TO BB WITHDBAWll ?
But, farther, in how many instances has the
infallible head of the Romish Church been
fonnd condemning and anathematizing his
predecessor as a heretic? How many general
councils have condemned the decisions upon
the doctrine and practice of previous coun-
cils? In fact, the proceedings of the Council
of Trent, which now governs the faith of all
Bomanists, affords ample scope for the ad-
mission of all the incongruities of religious
aberration to be found throughout Christen-
dom, upon this one condition, that the supre-
macy of the Pope be admitted. Yet this is
taught at the expense of our Queen's sub-
jects. What folly! If a particular phase
of religious faith is to be endowed, lei itVcj
at least, the most pure, the most perfeetlj in
accordance with the Christ]an*8 statnte-
book.
I now take leave of "Stanislaus'* for the
present, with the impression that as friends
we have ai^ued our heartf^t convictions, tod
the hope that further intercourse through
these pages will conduce to our mutoil im-
provement both in mind and in heart. Truth
cannot be injured by our search after it; bat
we must be benefited by the occupatioQ in
proportion to the nearness of our approsch
to the Source of all Truth.
UOUVRIEB.
NEGATIVE REPLY.
'<He (Mr. Scholefield) had been asked, if he
wished to get rid of all endowments, why he did
not get rid of the Maynooth gram? Because he
had a strong opiuiou that the selection of May-
nooth was the wont that could be made — (hear,
hear) ;it was evidence of an unjust and unge-
nerous policy, and therefore he was not disposed
to adopt it. If they were to have piecemeal legis-
lation on this subject, they should commence
with the most powerful first, and not with the
endowment of Maynooth, which was a college for
the etlucatiou of the clergy of a religion professed
by one'third of her M^esty's subjects, and those
the most deitttute.*' — Hotue of Commons, Tufs-
day, Feb. 23. 1B53.
** If there was an investigation, it was impos-
sible that ftt)m the investigation the Church of
Ireland could hope to escape. History contained
no record of greater wrong to a people than the
maintenance of the Established Church in Ire-
land."—Sir William Clay, ibid.
*' There is a great religious principle involved
in this meastuw— the principle of abstaining from
persecution. My lords, you are strong: abstain,
then,yroiw persecuting the weak. It is your duty
to give effect to this principle, and to abstain from
even the appearance of persecutiou." — Late Duke
of Wellington.
** The Established Church of England, planted
by force in Ireland, has done little for it, except
to unjustly tax, and cruelly treat, those who dis-
sent tW>m itB ritual, and to foment and aggravate
religious feuds."—!?. B. Stanton.
" The revenues of the Irish Church, accorrling
to the returns, amount to £71 1 ,534 — a sum which,
hj those who know anything of clerical returns,
will not be thought to be an exaggeration. In
addiUon, it has had, since 1800, £920.000 for the
erection of churches and parsonages, and for
glebe lands. Tet, in 1835, there were 425 pa-
rishes, containing less than 100 members of the
Church of England, and 1,841 iu which it had not
a single adherent. To the question, whether any
and what duties were discharged by thr cathedral
di^itaries, the reply,*' There are not any duties
annextd" was returned In the ctBA« of «lxt«eu
deMneriea, nine prficentorshipa, five tX^auwYVw-
sbips, seven treasurerships, two provostsbipc*.
twelve archdeaconries, twenty-three prel>aids,auit
one canonry ! "
" Do unto others as you would that theyshovlii
do unto you,"
TufiRB is a mystery even in the art tC
debate, as may be gathered from the affirms^
tive articles of " L'Ouvrier" and J. C. ifC^
Jun., where the one justly argues the with-
drawal of this grant on the ground of pdn*
ciple,but still has recourse to argument whicb
cannot affect the question, as it applies vitb
like force to (and may be urged by the pir>
tisans of) either creed; the other, not no-
ticing the reason and justice of the prin-
ciple, leaves it to be assumed that he does
not entertain it, but makes use of the only
plausible, but the certainly evasive, reaEoo
which is available, in order to show what be
and his party conceive to be the true gronndi
of the position they have taken. Peihspt it
is that there is division in their camp, or
that the prejudices of the latter would not
allow him to take so comprehensive snd
equitable a view of the topic as his prede-
cessor. It is, however, somewhat marvel-
lous that a writer who urges the repetl d
the grant on the groimd of principle, occn-
pying the affirmative side, sbouki condeseesd
to the use of arguments which can never
place the question in that self-convindoi;
light which that of principle does, and cc^
by other means to prove a position unwurtbj
of the high and just principle which regards
all grants as subject to the one '^*»«»^ law —
that of all religions as being properly inde-
^yl^%tv\. tii^^ax^d unconnected with, the state.
OUORT THE GRAHT TO MATHOOTH TO BB WITHDBAWir?
1SS
JadgiDg from the coarse pnrened bj both
writen, it appears erident that certain im-
portant facts have been forgotten bj them
which are inseparablj connected with the
termination of this debate, and which, had
ihtj been noticed, would hare tended very
coDsiderablj to have given a severe and
caustic expoge of the weak and fallacioos
character of the arguments which thej
broaght forth. But possibly our friends had
no knowledge of these facts, and wished
none; for we know that
** Where ignorance is bliss
Tis folly to be wise."
Certain it is, however, that thej have not
referred to drcumstances which are part and
parcel of the question ; hence it has fallen to
my lot to present my readers with the ma-
terials necessary to assist them in their ex-
amination of this question, which, whilst not
altogether a part of the subject, must never-
theless be considered, for justice demands
that, in this case, " the whole and its parts'*
shall be subject to, and determinable by, the
same laws — of reciprocity, right, and equity.
I was certainly staggered by the following
passage in the article of ** L'Ouvrier," inas-
much as when I perceived that he made the
withdrawal of the grant one of principle, I
gave him credit for more liberality and fair
dealing than is displayed in the extract.
He says : — ** The number of Roman Catholics
in Great Britain and Ireland is, according
to the best authorities, about 10,000,000,
while the numbers opposed to Roman Ca-
tholicism amounts to more than 16,000,000;
yet the whole of these 16,000,000 are re-
quired to contribute to the support of an
establishment, to the amount of £26,360
per annum, for the express propagation of
that which, in their estimation, is error of a
vital character, and injurious to the spiritual
and temporal well-being of mankind." Now,
I put it to the good sense of my readers
whether they would have thought any worse
of him — whether justice or truth would have
suffered — or, if '* L'Ouvrier** wished to place
this obnoxious injury to the Protestants in
the most charitable and the lecut painful
light — had he rather given the total number
of the Romantats and Protestant* in Ireland
onJyt Let it be remembered that the money
is not given for the general dissemination of
Popish principles, but is given for a specific
purpose to a certain eoHegCf in a country
w]iere it is most required. No doubt, had
he done this, he would have been ashamed
of the previous avowal; for in Ireland the
majority y who are Roman CcOholics, are taxed
to support the mmortfy, who hn Protestants,
for the express propagation of that which,
in their estimation^ is error of a vital cha-
racter, and injurious to the temporcd and
spiritual wett-beinff of mankind.
In 1835, in reply to an inquiry, the fol'
lowing figures were presented to the House
of Commons: — State Protestants, 852,064;
Roman Catholics, 6,427,712; and the total
revenue of the Irish Church for that year
amounted to £716,785, being the cost of
administering spirituality to 852,064 Pro-
testants; whilst the revenues of all the dis-
senting denominations did not amount to
more than. £500,000. And yet, forsooth,
although the major portion of the Irish
Church revenues is wrung from the Roman
Catholics, there are those who begrudge
them a portion of the money which they
themselves have subscribed! How is it that
the revenue of the Established Church in
the United Kingdom, subscribed by Roman
Catholics, has been totally forgotten, or
passed over stealthily, by the affirmative
writers? Was it that its enormities are too
great and glaring — that the injustice of a
state church, supported by Dissenters in
general, was of so vast a magnitude — or that
the affirmative writers were so ashamed of
the sentiments they maintained, when deny-
ing £30,000 per annum as a return for tho
money contributed by the Romanista to a
church which they completely ignored? Do
they think the two are not parallel cases?
Where is the difference? Are the Romanists
to have " liln^rty of conscience" ? May they
exercise it as conscience would dictate? If
not, then the phrase is a farce. Because
the 16,000,000 Protestants contend that
the religion of Rome is vile, is the same right
of opinion to be muntained and practically
exemplified by the Catholics? Do they, on
the other hand, contend that because the
number of the two are unequal, that the
minority must bow, and be subject to tho
will and caprice of the majority, in matters
appertaining to the free use of conscience?
If these be their sentimentSi how can they
bOBlld to diiclurRe it? This ruHioin;!
tht nrih tf (riut mmt of necatilg occ
iriMi tlwr* ii ■ itate-pud nligion, vitr:
oir rMgitm tiat ht ; mnd with wbit ibi
of jmtkaor reuon " L'OnTricr" can cv
•t 16,000,000 PrDtntants being caint»lli
to ropport " emir of a vita] cLir&cIer," u
U «ilmt when 10,000,000 CalliolJo ■
edicd open to paj tiib« lo ■ cburch whii
th«j tlto bctiere to bold dartiioe) imd em
"iDJnrimu to tha temponl and ipirilu
wall'baufc of nnukind," is an ■Doinal; irbii
Imb nrilbu eipliin nor luidiirsUDd.
Tbo gnicnl tenor at ibe trticlea from tl
pm of "L'OuTiier" (iliboojih, L'j-tbe-bj
«aljwi udutccownt of th< ideaof ihe immi
nlihr «f Um Bomiib doctrioei) would im
ibdU; coDTcr to tbe raultr's miod II
Dotkm tlut tbtra won but om set oF m
•danna ud opinimi In the world— tbi
thote um ptaaeneil imlg br PruteatantB, c
tlut UUf wen to AiiiL anl to jiilge (i
<94rfMgdtt, or nt leut for ibe Bomaa Ci
tUia. The whole of bin articles, with on
•zcaptMD (that when he nfen to principle
■1 well Bi the article of J. C. U'C, Jnn., i
•Dt eonplfta tirade on Iba peniiciow clu
ncterof UajDDolb teacbiDg. Such U hi
opmion, and inch it ntM ; but what of that
OCOHT THR GBANT TO MATITOOTn TO BB WITHDRAWH ?
187
peared to him, as to his hon. friend (Mr.
Spooner), that Majnooth was an endowment,
the resalt of which was, the propagation of
trror; bat then he reoolkcUd that what was
truth to km was error to otken. His hon.
friend, on the other hand, knew only one
kind of coneeiences, and those Prote$tant
contcienees. He should know, however,
that there were other grants ander acts of
}«rliament which mast violate the consciences
of Roman Cathoiics juet as much as the
Maynooth grant violated the conscience of
his hon. friend. And it was but common
justice that their consciences shonld be as
tenderij treated by the House of Commons
89 that of his hon. friend. ... If tfaej
endowed one particular sect at the expense
of others, it was, pro tanto^ a religious per-
so distrust the faith of those who call them-
selTes its members, or do thej consider that
thej would become apathetic for their creed?
Do thej suppose that the faith of the Church
of England is so untenable, sophisticated,
and onrea], that it requires the assistance of
the state to support it? Surely there can
be no other reason nor plea than this. Is it
that they fear their enemies (the Romanists)
from without? or that there are malignant,
inflammable, and treasonable conspirators
who seek to destroy it from within? Will
state aid obviate this diflBcnltj? On the
other hand, so far from this being the case,
thereare clergymen of the Established Church
at the present time 'fattening on her libe-
rality, who are preaching doctrines the very
opposite to those ordered by her ritual —
secutioH of those sectsj* The sum and sub- | doctrines of which '* L'Onvrier" has so great
atance of th^ question was graphically ex-
pressed in one short but impresKive sentence
delivered last year on this topic by the Right
Hon. W. E. Gladstone, now Chancellor of the
Exchequer. He said, "If the endowment
be ufithdroienj then the parliament that
wUhdntws it must be prepared to enter upon
the whole snbject of the reconstruction of our
ecclesiastical endowments.** Such must in-
evitably be the case. Perhaps the total
repeal — and not the •* reconstruction of our
ecclesiastical endowments" — would speedily
a horror — doctrines, in fine, '^ of a vital cha-
racter, and opposed to the temporal and spi-
ritual well-being of mankind." Are there
greater enemies to the Established Church
t han such " wol ven in sheep's clothing " ? Has
Rome herself better friends?
Dependent, then, upon her professors for
snppcMi;, the Church of England will be in a
far better position, and the right of the se-
lection of her own minuiters will enable her
to expel those who teach not her true doc-
trines. A well-known writer (the Rev. J. A.
follow. Then those anti-Maynoothites who ; James) says: — "It is evident that no exter-
are in favour of an Established Church may nal violence, short of the setting up of a
thank tliemselves if all grants be repealed ; I Popish and intolerant government, can de-
for, whilst clamouring for the abolition of stroy the church; it may die a natural death
^tM particular grant, which they cannot by the total abandonment of episcopacy on
tolerate, they are at the same time nnwit- the part of the people; or it may be destroyed
tinglj hastening the destruction of a politico- by an entire relinqubhment of it by its clergy,
religious establishment which they wished
to see undisturbed and still connected with
the state.
There are those who contend that the
established religion shonld be supported by
the state, although they cannot see the in-
justice of Catholics and others being com-
pelled to contribute to its maintenance ; and,
stnmgely enough, refuse them a portion of
the money they have contributed. But for
vhat reason should there be any established
church? Is it that its professors fear that
they could not obtain sufficient aid from
voluntary sources to maintain their ministers,
churches, &c. &c., and to administer to the
wants and necessities of the poor? Do they
events by no means likely to happen ; but it
can never be slain, except by a suicidal act
of its own. It may bid defiance to King,
Lords, and Commons, as long as it lives in
the afiections of its ministers and members;
and to affirm that its s^niration from the
state would terminate its existence, is, in my
opinion, to pronounce its condemnation as a
christian institute by representing it as
founded on human laws, instead of the vord
of God.""
It is worthy of remark, as being somewhat
singular, that whilst "L*Oavrier" is very
careful in insisting that every one is acconnt-
able to God for his religious belief, he appears
to forget the fact — ^in the face of this avowal
teach immoral and pernicious il«trini'; lh.il
thi nHOD.* Tbea would it be difBcnlt I
■bav that tha tcaiMnfrs of Oifoid an n<
■Un ta tbcaa of MajDooth. Sm bo* man
TDlnidm ahc hu Mnt forth who hava stctdr
to th* Church of Komel Ic haa beco we
called tha " liotbed of Popery." On the eon
traiT, I niuy oak, How many diHcntin
miniaten hire weeded from ProteatanCier
ta Poptrj? More persona bate aecede
ftmn Popeij to Pratestuntiam than rk
The idea, then, ofthe immorality of Romiei
taaching, although tnie in itielf, is uneon
Bectad with (he queslini of etite endowment
It la the only plea to which Mr. Spooner am
bia party can have recourse when aaked
"Whj not repeal ail endowments?"
Tba ■antimenta of the Anti-SUtc-Chnrcl
Anodatloa are » reasonable that I will i^ivi
thsm a place here: — "But hara tlieso pr
taaa narer reflected that Bonun (^tholin
alas pajtazea; and that it ia eqaallj a haril-
diip on them to be obliged la contribute ti
Um tapport of other ■acta, who denonnci
tludr rdiRion aa heretical and luperilitious?
If tba Epxwptlian in England, and the
Praabytenaii in Scotland, haa hii chnrrh
nppccted by tba atate, in the name of fair
ttij, bow can ha dear to the Pini« in l~.
18 A3K ATTEMPTED INVASIOK OF KNOLAXD PROBABLE?
189
sixw/* are at the same time more certain to
win conyerts to their cause, and to make
friends of those whom thej furmerlj regarded
as enemies, becanse the/ were the professors
of a faith differing, unfortanatelj, from their
own. J. G. R.
P.S. — Since the above was written two
additional articles hare appeared — the one a
conBrmation of my own ex]HWsed sentiments
and arguments, in part; the other onlj h/ac-
simile of the views generally held by anti-
Maynoothites. A careful perusal of it con-
vinces me that nothing further is needed
from my pen in refutation thereof, as the
above is, I trust, a sufficient reply to the
'■ articles of A. &, as well ss those who have
preceded him in advocating the same views.
JTDGIXG FROM THE HISTORY AND PRESENT STATE OF FRANCE, IS AN
ATTEMPTED INVASION OF ENGLAND PROBABLE ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
Os approaching this subject in the spirit
of candid inquiry, we feel compelled to con-
gratulate our readers on the noble character
of the British Controversialist^ which, taking
its stand on the liberty of the press, throws
open its impartial pages as an arena on which
religions, social, and political error is to fall,
and truth is to rise in its divine majesty!
France ranks among the nations of the
earth as one of the first and noblest. Its
Gallic origin, its sublime genius, its Elysian
position, and beautiful language, are the
main elements of its national greatness.
Notwithstanding all this, its history is dark
and gloomy, being associated to an awful
extent with superstition, atheism, anarchy,
and revolution. The Gauls, like the ancient
Britons, strujigled against the power of
OsBsar, but only became the nobler trophies
of his conquest. They were early acquainted
with the Roman constitution, and soon be-
came familiar with, and partial to, Roman
laws, leamin^r, and customs. Seeing, then,
that the Gauls were subdued by the same
power, and their national character biassed
by the same influence, as the Britons, the
inquiry naturally occurs. How is it that their
subsequent history is so different? An an-
swer must be sought in tlie character of the
OalUc people.
The character of all nations is original, and
we can answer no question in the history of
any nation without first learning the cha-
racter of its people. We may regard the
French as the o&pring of the Gauls, and,
oonseqaently, as partddng of their prede-
oeasora' national character.
** The Franks, who were of Teutonic origin,
and who, by their conqurats, gave their
name to the country, formed, perhaps, no
larger portion of the inhabitants than
the Norman conquerors in England, and
did not sensibly affect the great mass of the
people." *
Cscsar, in his Commentaries on the Gallic
war, represents the Gauls as being " among
the bravest and most warlike nations of the
earth." Less ferocious than the Britons,
but unwearied in military device and stra-
tagem, seeking every opportunity to deceive
the mighty conqueror to whom they had
sworn allegiance ; — impatient and restive at
the least encroachment of the ruling power
over the democratic element; — enthusiastic
and fanatical under the idea of national
renown; raising monarchies to indicate their
glory, and shortly hurling them to the dust
to show their power I
This feature of the character of the Gauls
it is necessary ever to bear in mind while
studying the history of France.
But we have to do with its modem history.
The revolutions of 1789, 1815, and 1848,
were the fearful manifestations of the demo-
cratic element overwhelming the monarchic
power which it had created. The "fierce
Corsican" was, in the beginning of his career,
the representative of the French democracy,
just as Caesar, in an age past, had heen that
of the Roman republic. But both Caesar and
Napoleon fell. Why ? Through the violation
of the power they had gained. Caesar passed
the Rubicon and defied the senate; and
Napoleon —
* James Comwell, Ph.D.
niilMd hi* fame h7 " B""[">>g I"'' ufflA.uU
la !■. pv wok for > chuitahlc puipou i
J\memi tint tbr anticiiHled iiiTBioa »i
ancr happml Wen *e eoDTinccd llu
battini; a Jixt and honoanblt, we ffaoal
M no hailation in ddng Ihe ume. Bi
vhj? Ii not lb* picwDt Emperor ( t) III
TK7 mui lo d«iiir« lucb an erent ? I>«
Bat Uil pait hutnj of Fnnec prtftnC on
tvtihl* Kcne at irbieh bia deipolic Epirit i
tnabM wilbin bim? Tn» it ii tbit Knf:
land baa CTcrTtbing to fear from t1i« Km
un>r, bnt ootbiDg fnnn anj olber qnnrtpi
Tbe mma wba wonU dir* to violate bi
MoUiean oath, Ihongh it wm tn >itf bi
Sn, m dan nM tnuit witb firtarnis at an
datra. Ha ia a tnitor. If be (lain powe
ha will abug it. Tbe inui wlio din t
tnnipla an tbe gcniu of a nation, eiils it
|nat ebaiaeten, cbaDfn ita goTtnimcnt ii
ana nigbt fnna a lepnblic into ■ coinpli't<
daapotiani, limit tbe rigbta of Ibe pimplr
MM iaXnj tbe iDdependenca of tlie balls
Mid VnH, ia bot a modeni Nero, llo who
a ha tonr Ibitagb the cimnlry oT«r wliicl
ia waa te toga to pmnoto ili bigbeat in
tenMa, be«tated not to ipeak thna at one o\
it* laiKaat towna, " If I wen to die to-mor-
N<r, tbe oalf military feat which htntori
18 AX ATTEMrrSD I>*VASIO.V OF ESIOLAXID PBOBABUE ?
191
tiTe of repoae and satisfaction, bnt intensely
prophetic of the moment in which it shall
be broken, and despotism and priestcraft
ranish as a midnight dream. This being
the condition of the nation, any military
expedition would bat hasten the event of
his certain downfall, especially if in that
expedition military glory were his chief
motive, and was not the object of national
dei»ire, which would be the case in invading
En^rland.
Thirdly. His position as it regards the
army and priests.
Those who have studied the late change
of government in France must have observed
how much the Emperor owes his present
poMtion to the army on the one hand, and to
the priests on the other. The relation which
exists between the Emperor and these two
daaees, and that which existed between N<i-
pdeon Bonaparte, his army, and the priests
of his day, form a most striking contrast.
The late emperor was the master and com-
mander of his army; the present Emperor is
the slaTe, the tool, and flatterer of his. The
cnny of the one obeyed implicitly, while the
anny of the other commands, and only obeys
when it is to obtain its own ends. The
ibrmer followed the impulse of one mind in
all his actions, while the latter yields to the
caprice of a vast army. Napoleon Bona-
parte's army was united to do his will —
attached and affectionate to their general —
ready to pass the Alps or traverse the snow-
dad steppes of Rusjtia at his command, and
back again to the terrible scene of Waterloo.
Well hath Byron put words into the mouth
of the Polish officer who " clung to his mas-
ter's knees'* on his departure for exile, ex-
pnsatog the bond of unity and affection be-
tween the general and his army —
** My chief, my king, my friend, adieu ! "
Bnt this 18 not the character of the present
£mperor*8 army. Like the nation, it is a
divided body. Notwithstanding the base
system of intimidation to which the army
was aobject daring the period in which its
votes were given, many thousand negative
votea were cast in a brave and noble spirit.
In them we have great faith, and, rejoicing,
bdiold the manifestation of that nobility and
Iwreum fHiich shall one day redeem France.
Tba prieats. Here the contrast is greater
atill. The diatnictioa of the priestly power
and spell was one of the objects of the former
Napoleon's ambition. He swept away the
infernal fragments of the inquisition, and
bade the priest cease to deceive and begin to
teach. He shook the throne of papacy, as
well as monarchy, to its centre. How dif-
ferent the conduct of "Napoleon the Little"!
His next step, after alluring the army to his
standard, was to gather round him the syco-
phantic priests of a corrupt religion. He
did not try long, for they soon rolled their
legions round him. But he has to serve both,
with the loss of independence, the army and
priests. Power thus gained would forsake
him on the frowning Aljis, on the Russian
steppes, and on Albion's plains, too, where
many a Cromwell dwells. Power thus gained
must be retained with difficulty, and only by
the constant exercise of the most consummate
subtlety. This would be iropos&ible were the
Emperor engaged in military expeditions.
Power thus gained must ultimately prove his
ruin. All history attests it.
Lastly. There is the common cause of
liberty, not to speak of national and com-
mercial interests. Although the Emperor
would not regard the cause of liberty, his
people would. The battle of Waterloo was
not fought to secure the liberty of England
only, but of all the nations of Europe; and
France herself was no loser by the event,
though it overthrew her proud emperor.
The most eloquent orator oif modem timea
thus addressed a British audience on the
threatened invasion by Napoleon I.: — "It
remains with you, then, to decide whether
that freedom, at whose voice the kingdoms
of Europe awoke from the sleep of ages, to
mn a career of virtuous emulation in eveiy-
thing great and good — the freedom which
dispelled the mists of superstition, and in-
vited the nations to behold their God — whoso
magic touch kindled the rays of genius, the
enthusiasm of poetry, and the flame of elo-
quence—the freedom which poured into our
laps opulence and arts, and embellished life
with innumerable institutions and improve-
ments, till it became a theatre of wonders —
it is for you to decide whether this freedom
shall yet survive, or be covered with a funeral
pall and wrapt in eternal gloom." In the
attempt to invade England the commoD
caose of liberty would be involved, for within
her bosom is the palladium of the rights and
hberty of universal humanity. Against thia
I'uve timaclj bininpliaatl; cniblazua oil tl
ftwrt af an thdr pablkxiiwa, {■ itoelf
■tfoUtiaD <]f tbaiT .ibmrd Ibearici; for,
tka7 wmM cucfallf itndj it< oonlext, tlii
«<Nild pgrcriTe thit it wu sn iDtimatioii
wlub woald occur during the miltcnnio
itMir, and Dot before tliat epoch. It i
tliBefon, eqniralent to an suertion thi
«ntU tlut period then will bo a neceuit
foe matcriil it«apaiu, ind for luming tl
Ut of war. Saa, tbcrafore. the milleiiniui
bM not commenced, war is oZionyt poaiuble-
nmer improbable. If we look at the preset
tins to the coatioHit of EurD[ic, inJ aee
Ibr the nation mat diitingaiAbpd for i1
Billitai7 propenntin, wliorc duel our e;
fliullj letlle, M btTing foand the object (
H* warchf Undoubtedly od France — Fnnc
■ndu any form of gOTcniment, buleipedall,
Vnder that pecnliar form tbe onlj tradition c
which ii war and conqaeet When, there
fbn, a war does break out, we maj natural].
«xpect France, and cipeciallj France as ai
COipin^ to lake at leaat a prominent par
tbarein. And if it be true in the politic*
•1 in Ih* pbjiiial world, that before a atom
comea a calm, we may expect, from Ihe lon|
duration of peace, tkat when the war doe
bnak out it will be tbt; (CTere. Tbc qua
IS AS ATTEMPTED I1CVA8ION OP ENGLAND PROBABLE?
193
SO mncb doiracL At the soond of the can-
non the troops embsrketl with great precibion
and oeleritj. Shouts of joy rent tfte air,
which were changed into murmurs of dis-
satisfaction when they learned that the whole
had been a false alarm."* And if it be
allied by any that times arc changed — tiiat
the disposition of the French is altered — we
would remind snch that in one feature of
their character they are not a whit altered,
y\z.y in fickleness. And hence we ought not to
depend upon their hollow professions of a
pacific character. The fickle have no prin-
ciple, and do not know thcmselres what will
be their next deed. Consider the man who
now wears the imperial purple in France.
In the EdiiUmrffh Witness we fmd the fol-
lowing statement : — '* When Napoleon created
the second child of Hortense, then a boy of
foor years, Grand Duke of Berg and Cleve.s,
he took him oo his knee, and, looking him
in the face, addressed him in the fullowing
remarkable speech; — 'Come, my son, 1 will
be your father; you shall lose nothing. This
conduct of your father grieves me to the
heart; but it is to be explained, perhaps, by
his infirmities. When you become great
yon mnst add his debt to your own; and
never forget, that in whatever situation you
are placed by my politics, and the interertts
of my empire, your first duty is towards me,
Tonr second towards France; all your other
duties, even those towards the people I shall
confide to you, will rank after thecse.' And
now the child created Grand Duke of Berg
and Cleves by Napoleon I. is Napoleon III.,
and placed in circumMtances fully to discharge
the debt laid upon him by his uncle, as due
both by himself and his father.** Thus we
that Hannibal, in ancient Punic story,
not more truly set apart for hostility to
the people of Kome, than Louis Nai)oleon is
for bo»tility to the people of England; and,
from what we know of his character, we may
espeet that he will take the earhest oppor-
timitj of fulfilling his "destiny.^
Oo the Ibt of DecemWr, 1851, the city of
Paris sank to rest in all the calmness of
coBScions sei-urity. On the 2nd they awoke
to find the National Assembly dissolved, the
laws suppressed, and the streets swept with
grape-shot. Since then '* he has procsribed
•"LUb of Napoleon'
RsUgioas TrBel Itoeiety.
'— MontLIjr Volume II.
eighty -four representatives of the people;
confiscated the property of Louis Philippe, to
whom he owed his life; decreed despotism;
garotted the republic; gagged liberty ; pawned
the railways ; picked the pockets of the people ;
regulated the budget by ukcue ; transported
10,000 democrats; banished 40,000 repub-
licans; filled all souls with sorrow; covered
all foreheads with a blush." Such a monster
of ingratitude and villainy scarcely ever
exi>ted on the face of the earth! And this
is the person, forsooth, to whom our L^mdon
merchants pay court, and on whom the Peace
Congress would have us rely, as if his word
was infallible and his faith unimpeachable!
Look, too, at the Emperor's marriage. Were
not even the French nation taken by surprise
at this? Verily, no man knows to-day What
Louis will do to-morrow. And think you he
has no reckoning to settle with England for
defeating his uncle at Waterloo, and con-
denming him to die far from the land of his
birth and the arena of his crimes? He has;
and re>t assured he will take the earliest
opportunity of paying it, for '' Brutus is such
an honourable man!"
In the second place, we think that a French
invasion is probable from the present aspect
of PoPEKY on the Continent. The whole of
the Koman Catholic powers of Euro|:>e are
anxious to put down the Protestantism of
Britain. Separated from tbtm by the rolling
waves, Britain nobly rears her'head as the
refuge of God's truth from the assaults of
the enemy, and the asylum of all that is free,
noble, and pure. Her Protestantism marks
her for the hatred of Popinh jiowers; her
liberty exposes her to the wrath of despotism.
And where is there at this moment a country
so Popish as France, or a tyranny so despotic
as Napoleon*A? Other nations may hate
England for one of these causes, hut France
hates her for both. We have reoson to believe
that Popery is about to make a final struggle,
a U?it attempt, to crush the truth and liberty
of Britam. We know that one pope laid
England under interdict, another excommu-
nicated Henry VI 11., another excommuni-
cated Queen Elizabeth, and encouraged Philip
of S^'ain to attempt to subdue our country by
the terrible armada; and, for ourselves, we
little know how soon the prediction of a
modern poet may be fulfilled ; —
" Woe lo the watery regions of the we^t!
Woe to the lauds once ' Islands ol the Blest' !
194 18 THE USE OP OATHS FOR CIVII. PUBrOSBS BIGHT AlCD ESPEDIBIIT?
Lo .' wheu the xninda of men are locked in sleep,
The treacherou* foe speeds o'er the mighty
deep
A dread armada, ready charged to ponr
An overwhelming torrent on thy shore.
High o'er their heads the goldkn eaole flies,
And joyful mingles with its native skies.
Proud in the midst the beast uprears its
head.
Like an avenging Fury from the dead,
Dnmk with the martyrs' blood, uusated still,
Kesolved once more at least to drink his fill.
And now to dungeon dark and flaming stake
The slumbering nation doth at length awake.
Too late, alas ! The gate is opened wide,
And through her streets her foes triumphant
ride.
The land is deluged with the crimson flood,
And all the rivers swell to seas of blood."
Yes; let it never be forgotten, that if there
be a war in Europe it ifrill probably be a war
of reliffion ; and if an attempt be made to
invade England, it will be to destroy the
established religion of the country, and to
rear the Tower of Babel on its ruins. The
state of parties in Enj^laod j^reatly encon-
rages the Continent. Ultra-Protestant Dis-
senters on the one hand,* and the Higli
Church party on the other, ynzlemtzu^ with
Popery, while infidelity is spreading; and »
the real church of Christ is reduced to a verj
small minority. But surely there renuui»
in England the elements of the flame of oar
ancient glory — that flame which is
" No flickering flash that a breath may ext20gai»%>
Thai one scarce iu the darkness around cza
distinguish ;
Hut a quenchless Are that is lit at their birth.
To consume every tyrant and despot on earth."
If so, may we soon see that glorious flime
rising in splendour to the sky, and bj its
dazzling effulgence Uluming the world!
J. C. M'C, Jon.
* One of tlje most eminent ministers of thtr
Indep«:ndcnt$ actually received a letter of thasi*
from Cardinal Wiseman for preaching a icnBoo
in favour of the Pupal aggression !
Imial (ErDDnmif.
IS THE rSE OF OATHS FOB CIVIL PURPOSES RIGHT AND EXPEDIEXT 1
I
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
The custom of confirming important
statementsiby oath — that is, by appeal to
the recognised deities or Deity in the pre-
sence of others — appears to have been com-
mon among all civilized nations, and enters
largely into tserj ramification of our civil
and ecclesiastical polity. Most countries
have their peculiar forms in the administra-
tion of oaths. The Athenians, Romans, and
Jews, were accustomed to perform it by
stretching out their hand towards the hea-
vens, or by placing them under the thigh of
the person to whom the oath was made.
Thtis does Virgil represent the treacherous
Sinon in the former of these attitudes, when
by his subtlety he would begtiile the Tro-
'ans:—
'' Ye lamps of heaven !
Thou venerable sky !
Inviolable pow'ra, ador'd with Uread!
Ye faul fillets, that once bound this head !
Ye sacred altars, from whose flames I fled !
fieallof youadjurd!"
"By Jove!** " By Hercules!" and all such
UrmSf were deeply religious phrases, indi-
cating the truth of the statement to vbidi
thev were attached, also the earnestness oi'
the speaker, when used by the Romans ifiii
Greeks.
It would have been considered by tbno
impious in the extreme to use such toms w
trifling subjects, or with the frivolity of mai^
of our university stndents. The Jews ex-
pressed their oaths by an appeal to the God
of their fathers; and we in civil matters we
a no less significant tenn, **So help me,
God!" That this practice was in hamMor
with the religion of tlie Jews, Greeks, snii
Romans, we doubt not. Onr endeavour viU
be to show that the use of oaths, for drll
purposes, is not in harmony with sciiptvr,
and consequently with the spiiit of Chn-
tianity.
We shall first inquire, What porpoie 'n
this custom intended to answer in civil Bst-
ters? Secondly, Does it answer tht porpoir
intended ? Thirdly, Is it in hannooy with
scripture and the spirit of Chriatiamty? h;
conclusion, What is the geiMnl tcndnpy tf
18 THE USB OF OATHS FX>R CIVIL PURPOSES RIGHT AND EXPEDIBMT? 195
such a caatom, as it regards the social wel-
hre of the oommanitj?
The object in view in the administration
of oaths is evidently to elicit trath in mat-
ters of great importance. Bj an oath a
person is supposed to confirm a given state-
ment by an appeal to the Omniscient. Now,
if we consider the thing, it will appear evi-
dent that an bath can be of no real valne, or
positive Qse, unless it be taken from prin-
ciple; that is, from the love of truth. He
who is lacking in this cannot on any occa-
sion, however important, be said to speak
anything from this only true motive. The
very thing that will lead a man to assert,
knowingly, a positive lie in the presence of
his fellows, will lead him to con6rm it by an
oath. An oath in such a case is merely the
repetition of the lie. The reason why he
does not hesitate thus to take an oath is
because he does not fear to utter a lie ; or the
reason why he takes a false oath arises from
the prior event of asserting an untruth, and
this arises from the absence of the love of
truth. Nothing but the actual and abiding
love of the truth will lead a man habitually
to speak the truth. But some will say, '* A
man will fear to take an oath, though he be
guilty of falsehood." This we know is a
general opinion concerning oaths; but it is,
we think, radically unsound; and is evident
if we inquire as to the origin of this fear
which is to deter him from the repetition of
falsehood. We presume that the fear of God
is here alluded to; if so, in what does the
fear of God originate? Doea it not arise
from the very principle which we say must
exist within a man in order that he may
spetik the truth habitually? We can see no
meaning in an oath, unless it be taken from
the real love of truth, apart from any sinister
motive whatever. Neither can we conceive
of the fear of God as existing in the mind
apart from the love of truth ; for it is this
principle which leads a man to fear, love,
and serve God in sincerity, and this alone.
The conclusion to which we naturally come
is this, that he in whose mind the love of
truth is predominant will habitually speak
the truth, and that bis word is actual truth,
as far as he is knowingly and conscientiously
implicated, and that an oath, or ten thou-
sand oaths, cannot take from or add to the
real value of his testimony. So, on the other
hand, he in whose mind this principle does
not exist, will, from some sinister motive,
frequently assert falsehood, and as long as
that motive exists will he afiSrm the same,
and even corroborate it by oath. Of what
use, then, is an oath, seeing that it neither
adds anything to the real value of the state-
ment made by the principled, or subtracts
anything from the statement of the unprin-
cipled man? Is it not a worthless form — a
meaningless action— > when resorted to?
II. Does it answer the purpose intended?
We have anticipated this inquiry, and shown
that it does not. In order to make it more
evident, let us refer to an example. We
have a remarkable instance illustrating the
point in question in the case of Peter, who,,
we are informed by the four evangelists^
denied his Lord three successive times.
Why, we would ask, did he thus deny Christ?'
What was his motive in persisting in this
positive lie? It could not have been the
love of truth, " for men do not gather grapes
of thorns, or figs of thistles." It was a
sinister motive which led him thus to act.
He feared to be recognised as one of the
friends of the despised Nazarene. The fear
of man brought a snare, and wary Peter
was taken therein. Matthew tells ns that
on his second denial he confirmed it by an
oath. Here we plainly see that the denial
in the first place, and the false oath in the
second, arose from the same motive — the fear
of man. We will suppose the case of a jury.
Twelve men are chosen, and required to take
the oath, according to custom, that each will,
according to his judgment, conscientiously
give his candid verdict. Does this oath
necessarily imply that each does so? By no
means. The probability is, that if there was
one in whose mind the love of truth was not
a fixed principle, he would be swayed in
his opinion by any influence rather than the
right, or that his opinions would be given
from a sinister motive. The oath no more
secures the real conviction of each member
of the jury than it gives them power to
'* judge righteous judgment" Of what use,
then, in this case, is the oath? Is it not a
mere ceremony? If the administration of
oaths be necessary in the case of one class of
men in civil purposes, why is it not in all
cases? Why am I required to corroborate
my statement by an oath, while at the same
time my friend's is taken on the same ground
without an oath? It would, we presume,
.lU.
fvpsn iitaidod u with ignarut aod iap«r- 1
■tituni ptnoni, wbo, not tfjuking the Irnlta
ftom tb* hiT« of it, nuj b«, in •oma attt,-
CMDpellsi] U ipuk it frum (nr. Sucb cufs
wbm thvre iii fvAr Arip-in^ from llir aAsurance
gf pmtnt pnnitLmeat. Thii ii, »e tbink,
a> anju>liG«bl< coume o( *rtioii, )o rlicit ;
tnth bj ioipniiig t mraningleM rile upun
thi tgDDnnt and ■a)jrri>liliuus— ■ {iTHFtict ,
hf no nwasi ia harmoDf witb Uic lulore ,
nd iigaitj of rrutb itscir.
lU. b it in hamionr nilh Kriplurc rdJ ,
dMapiritof Christiinir;? Wn bovo bltunn '
that Iba DM of oailia doM not anxrcr Ibe
BQipoM iDtRided. and Ibat (be ilate, in home
Mitaiinin, admili tbat it is nut abH^Dlel;
nuon why oalba are not, in civil purpovn.
tigbt and upcdient. A man decisive acttu-
Bmt atill ii, Ibat it ia not in hariaonj Hiiii
ABriplnrv; coojicqQntlj, with tba ff^rit ol
Cbrijitiuiit7. Tb« lancoage of the Unit
Tgachtr, and of ana of hia diieiplta, i* rv-
Bwrkabt; cle^r and decitive on ibia puial.
Tfaii, w» IhinJi, ii tfa> bi|;bfit pmible evi-
18 THE use OF OATIU FOB CIVIL PURPOSES RIOBT AND EXPEDIENT? 197
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
We are f^lad to fee an opportanitj afforded
)f impartially discassing this important
:]aestion in the British Controvertialist.
We take the affirmative view of the subject,
and will, as brieflj as possible, state oor
reasons for doin^ so.
Fir^t. We will endeavoar to show that the
use of oaths for civil purposes is right. We
are aware that it will be used as an arfni-
naent against us that our Saviour has said,
*' Swear not at all/' and that this command-
ment is obeyed to the very letter by the
Quakers, and two or three other sects; but
it b a rule too well known and generally
acknowledged to need supporting here, that,
if we winh properly to read and really un-
derstand the doctrines of the Bible, we must
do so by explaining one passage by another.
God, in the third commandment, impliedly
allows the name to be used on all proper
executions, for he only forbids it being used
in vain. And may not the comm<indment
of our Saviour be construed in the same
manner? Is it not only reasonable to sup-
pose that the commandment was given to
prevent, the improper use of oaths on every
trivial occasion, which was then a far too
prevalent practice; for, in the twenty-third
chapter of St. Matthew, he rebukes the
fooliah and absurd oaths of the Pharisees?
In Gf neitis we 6nd Jehovah himself ratifying
the fulfilment of his promise to Abraham by
an oath; for we read that he said, *' By my-
self have 1 sworn, saith the Lord ;" and there
can be no doubt that, in the moral code of
laws which God himself delivered to the
children of Israel in thp wilderness, the use
of oaths was not forbidden, but allowed on
all proper occasions; and in several instances
the puninhment of death was ordered to be
inflicted upon a false witness. This view of
the subject is that which is taken by most
bible commentators. Barnes says, " Our
Saviour here (Matt. v. 33, 34) evidently had
no reference to JudicicU oaths, or oaths taken
in a ciiurt of justice. It was merely the
fiwlifth and wicked habit of swearing in pri-
Tate conversation— of swearing on every
occasion and by everything — that he con-
demned. This be does condemn in a most
■oqnaJified nuuioer. He him»elf, however.
did not refuse to take an oath in a court of
Uw, KsU. UTi. 63, 64. Paul often called
Cfod to witness his simeerityy which is all that
is meant by an oath. See Bom. L 9 ; ix. 1,
&c." May we not conclude the first part of
our argument, then, in the words of the last
article of the Church of England: — "The
christian religion doth not prohibit, but that
a man may swear when the magistrate re-
quireth, in a cause of faith and charity, so
It be done according to the prophet's teach-
ing, in justice, judgment, and truth."
Secondly. We think there can be little
doubt that the use of oaths fur civil purposes
is expedient. All nations, both ancient and
modern, have, from time immemorial, used
them in their courts of justice; and a per-
jurer has been, and is everywhere, severely
and justly punished. In all cases, by the
laws of France, upon a just ]irinciple of re-
taliation, perjury, at least upon capital accu-
sations, whereby another's life is, or might
be, destroyed, is rendered capital, and the
offender suffers death ; and there can, indeed,
be no moral doubt that, if a wilful perjurer
actually causes the death of an innocent
person, he is guilty of murder. But, although
our ancient laws formerly punished this
awful crime with death, or the loss of the
tongue as the offending member, corporal and
pecuniary puniAhments, exile, and perpetual
mfamy, are now inflicted as more suitable
to the enlightened spirit of the age. Is there
not something solemn in an oath as adminis-
tered in our courts of justice, where the wit-
ness swears to speak the truth, so help htm,
God f Is there not something calculated
to prevent even the most abandoned wretch
from committed the perjury he may have
been suborned to, in the thought that, be-
sides the civil punishment he may foresee
looming in the distance here, there will be
an eternal punishment inHicte<l upon him
hereafter by that God whom he has just
invoked as a witness to his speaking the
truth? That oaths are regarded by such
men as sacredly binding upon them is a daily
attested fact. Shakspeare illustrates this
when he makes one of his characters exclaim—*
" This, in th^ name o/heavtnt I promise here;
The which, irhe be pleased, I shall perform.
I do l>eMech your miyesty may salve
The long-grown wounds of my intemperance :
If not. the end of life cancels all bonds.
And I wilt die a hundred thtnuand deaths
Mrs Wrak ths smmUest peuxet qftkks vow.'*
198
THB TOVNO STUDENT AMD WRITBB*8 ASSlBTJkliT.
We live ia an age of progression, and we
most all move onwards ; butf though the laws
of onr oonntiy are being constantlj changed
and impTOTed, I tmst the day ia ftf distant
when the proper use of oaths for dvil par-
poses will be discontinnod, and the laws now
in force concerning them abrogated bj the
C. E.
legislature.
tfjit *:gnttiig ItnhDt bdIk WxMs %witi\A.
GRAMMAR CLASS.
Exerciaei in Grammar. Xo, XIV.
Junior DivuiioH.
Perform Exercise No. V., Vol. III. p. 239.
Senior Division.
Prepare a fonn like the one given, and arrange
the folloiring verbs, and their inflexions, under
their proper heads :—
Fall, fast, hold, halt, show, mow, snow, blov,
crow, throw, cleave, heave, weave, freeze, steal,
speak, dip, swear, bear, forbear, tear, shear, steer.
shake, get, ent. seethe, tread, bid, awake, fxvet,
arise, abide, glide, slide, write, thrive, itrivc,
climb, slit, bite, swim, begin, spin, win, sins,
sting, ring, wring, fliug, cling, drink, stink, neU,
help, bind, grind, choose, leeT, sweep, creep, ]o^,
loose, flee, sleep, confess, hush, pluck, bend, srud.
rend, spend, lend, wend, gird, gild, build, thH.
cut, cosi, spread, hit. hurt, put, set, bunt, knit.
cast, leave, have, make, buy, owe, work, thint.
bring, beseech, reach, teach, seek.
VERBS.
Irhrgular.
Perfect PartidpK
MODEL EXERCISE No.II.— Hde Vol.III. p. 11«.
I— NOUNS.
Pnopaa.
Common.
London
book
Collective.
Verbal.
AbxtracL
Liverpool
John
ImiicA
pen
multitude
being
aiBiction
Southampton
son
oonxregalion
feeling
whitenr«s
Louis
paper
parliament
bearing
highness *
America
a man
committee
secmg
slavery
Victoria
heart
nation
manhood
Albert
kinPf
man (vnit-<>r«<i/)
friendsb4>
Henry
seed
concourse
laughter
bloom
herd
knowledge
shadow
flock
aflection
maid
belief
queen
hope
pnnce
intentions
gardener
revolutiou
rector
bloom
executrix
region
afllnitf
animalcule
erasure
attendance-
acrimony
fallacy
ardour
II. — 1. A noua is a name; as, John, Loudon,
house, box, thought, wisdom, intelligence.
S. Au <w(/ec(if-e is a word thrown to a nonn, to
describe tiie person or thing, &o., which it reprv.
sents ; as, London is a great city ; John is au in*
tluMtriotu man ; that box is a i*uye box ; that
thought was a j^ood thought, &e. ^ere great, tn>
Hum rioM, targe, and good, are lAroim to the
uouns city, man, box, and thought, to describe
the person, place, and things which lb*se
represent ; great, industrious, large, and good, aw
therefore acyectives.
3. A pronoun, or/or noun, is the repieaeutati^-
of a noun, or name ; as, John is here to-day : he
{i. e., John) will be on the sea MMDOirow. Loa-
don was once a small fishing statioo ; if (i. « .
London) is now tlie largest city in the workl.
The house was large; but it (the ho«>e>w«s m
TBB YOVTiQ 8TUDBHT AND WBITBR*8 ASSISTAXT.
199
conTenienL The thoogbt mm good; but it (tJbe
thoaght) WM not mauind
4. A verb may b« known by its affirming aome-
thing when attaiBbed to a noun or ita repreaentft-
tive ; as, John rtadt. London is inertaritu. The
house is being buili. The box is repaired,
5. Adverbs qualify Terbs, acyectivea, or other
adverbs ; as, John improves qtuekly. London is
veqf large. The sun shone very brighay.
6. Prepositions indicate the relations of things,
&c., to each other ; as, John is in London. John
is new London. The house is on the hill.
7. Interjections are words thrown between the
parts of a sentence ; as, **Alas ! and did mj Sa-
Tjoar die ? "
8. Cot^jnnetions we joining words; as, George
and Henry went oat together. Here the eon-
jonctiou aiM joins George and Henry together as
the sabjeetR of the verb went.
III.— Abstract nouns are the names of qualities
or states of being, &c., when considered as sepa-
rate existences ; thus we have the verb to affiict.
A dispensation which afflicts is called^ affliet-
ing (Uspensation. Afflicting in this raie takes
the nature of an an^ective: but the particular qua-
lity which afflicts is called an affliction. Affliction
is the name of a quality abstracted from the object
in which it resides ; lumce affliction is au abstract
noun.
Verbal ncmns are simply the present participles
of verbs. Those given in the above form are ex-
amples.
LOGIC CLASS.
Junior.-^ Vide ** Art of Reasoning," No. V., Vol.
I.— Why should we consider definitions as pro-
ducts of judgment rather than of perceptivity 7
What is the distinction between definitions an<t pro-
positions 7 What are embodied in propositions 7
W'hat lies in propositions? Is fact-philosophy
infallible 7 What are the parts of a propositiau 7
Define and illustrate them. What are the chief
relations which olgects bear to each other 7 De-
fine and illustrate their use. How are proposi-
tions subdivided 7 Define and illustrate their
subdivisions. Ought these to be looked upon as
technical puerilities?
Provectior. — Exercise. No. V., Vol. II.
Senior. — Attention ano its Influence on Memory
■ad Association.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— 11.
Question 10. In this case the pound SToir-
dupois must be in the same proportion to 112 as
V(K) grains is to 7,(XiO. Thus—
7000 : 5760 : : 118 : -^^ ^m.-^*^'
Ap. OwBir.
Qnestion 11. One ounce troy of standard gold is
worth JSH 17s. lO^d., Mint price.
£ s. d.
.*. lloz.s43 10 7|
Deduct 1 ox. copper 1
.*. 10 OS. flne=49 10 0^
.*. 1 02. flues 4 d 7-w
and I lb. troysdl 7 10 30s^51'99S».
But bv question, 23 lb. avolrdapois contains S9 lb.
avoirdupois of fine gold ; and, as
Ib.av. lb. troy.
5760 : 7000 : : 22 : 26-736^
.-. 51-3935 xS6-730%s£13740255903
B£1374 0s.(}14l672d.
Add to this Is. 4d. for 1 lb. of copper, and the 23 lb.
are worth £1 ,374 la. 10*14167'id.— ^n«. W.
Question 13. The interest of £100 for 60 days is
1 6I| shillings. Therefore, as
£1U0 16H*- ' 1^}"* : ' -£1^.000 : £122 5s. 71{d.
R. M.
Question 13. As 962 : 100 : : 3i : £3 1*^<*- ^^<1*
J. S. Dl
Qttes/«onl4. 4x+-^sl48
4y+*- = 73
(1)
(2)
multiplying (2) by 16 we have
64y+43=ill68 (3)
.'. subtracting (1) firom (3) we have
64y- *y =1020; or 255 y =4080
y-
255
&ndby(l)4x=144; orx=36. J.B.M'C.
Question 15. Let A B denote the tower, and C
the angle of elevation ; then,
A B din. C sin. C ^ _
_ -^ss— — -zs- - =Uin.C
B C siu. A COS. C
.'. ABsBC tan.C;
whence tan. 47» 0' 30"= log. 10*030471
72feetBC»log. 1-857332
.-. 77-2341 feet A B slog. 1-887803
Question 16. The diameter of the sphere being
df and the height of the segment A,
vol. of segments— (3d- 2^1) A*.
0
The given values are, d=36 and ^=16; hence,
vol. of segment
3*1416
» -^— X (108-32) x256 s 10187-1616 cubic in.
J. K. L.
Question 17. Radius of segments
^•^'-Z ^ _ A Ys ^dh-h*^ -v^aox 10-206
sl7 8885.— Jns.
•I. iv. l^.
Question 18. Let — , x, r x be the numbers ;
r
then— +x+rxs84 (A)
and^— +x«+r«x«s4368 (B)
dividing B by A -^^ — x+r*.=52 (C)
but by (A) -^+x+r Xs84
.*. subtract C from A, and 2 x»32
.*. XS-— sld
substituting in A the value of x,
-— +16+16 r=84
r
16r«-68sl6
completing the square,
, 17 17« 289-6J 22&
r* rH = s —
4 '^^ 8» 64 04
cxtnM^Ung root, r — b'=~r-
o o
200
KOnCES OP BOOKS.
15+17 32 .
•••'•=-8 =V = *
1 1*
henoe, nubsUtuUng-- - . 16 .4x16,
4
4 . 16 . and 64 are the required numbers. — X. F.
QUESTIONS FOK SOLUTIOX.— IV.
28. It bus been announced that the Mint at
present Ktnkt* a off liiilt' a million pounds sterling
in gold per week. II uw long will a man be en-
gaged countinir this sum, if half of it be in balf-
vovereigTiM, and he count lOU per minute for eight
hours a liay ?
29. Kequired, the simple interest of the Qb4)ve
for 15 years andbl days. at 4^ per ceutperannum.
30. The weight of a cubic foot of water L) O'J.Olb.
What is the weight of a cubic inch ?
31. Required the eompound iuterest of £1 for
1,000 years, at £5 per cent per •nnum.
35. What is the sum ofthe series ^fl- Hx+ n^i^-
: &c., ad in/lmitHmt
[ 33. If a body be put into motion by ■ force
which moves at the rate of 200 feet the first Mccihi.
190 the second, and mo on for ever, in the ratio vf
\*. how many feet «ill it pass over?
34. What weight of wat«r will a globe of beerb.
whose diameter is 27 inches, and specific grvitf
•KV2, displace ?
I 35. How much will the water meamre by im
penal gallon?
36. What fiill an iron shot, the sperific ttantr
of which is 7*218, and diameter 6 inches, weigh &
water?
Gi'«» {j!:;JJ=l?J}tofindxandy.
37.
jJotirrs nf SSooks.
The Sexuaiitu o/ Xature. By Leopold H. Grin-
don, Author of ** Figuratire Language," &c.
London : Fred. Pitman.
This is an ably-written essay, attempting to show
that " sex and the murringe union are uni-
versal principles: fundnmentol alike in physics,
physiology, and jjsychology." Tiie writer sets
out by asserting that " Nature is a system of nup-
tials. Everything in creation partakes either of
inascuhne or frnMnin>t qualities; — animals and
plants, earth, air, water, colour, heat, light, music,
tliought, »peech. the Nfose of the beautiful, the
adaptation of the ftoul for heaven,— all exist as the
ofispring or products of u kind of nmrringe." In
endtravouring to suhstuniiate this pohi'.itm Mr.
Grindon, while diodosint; the school of theolo-
gians to which he belongs, exhibits consider.ible
talent, and succeeds, we must nay, in elaborating
a very ingenious, if not a truihtul, theory. Iliii
remarks on the different churactcriHiics of man
and woman will be perused with interest by many
of our reader**: —
" Perhaps no question has ever be^ more
actively discussed than the eompar.itive value of
man and woman ; and throughout the dispute
superiority has been arrogated to man. In many
great departnienis of lile und its employment?,
unquestionably he is KU|>«'rior; but, lunly ex-
amined, thf ilifference Wiween tl»e sexes is one
which neither suliordinat>s woman nor aggran-
dizes man. Affection, or woman s prerogative, is
a tiling as cxcelleiit as intellect; and fulfils a part
in the ecoitomy ol hiunun life, if not .so command-
ing, lovelier, aud far less easy to be dispensed
witli. In 111! ages, however, it has been the mal-
practice to nieu*>uro nobility of spiritual nature by
vigour of understHiuliiig alone, setting aside tlie
priceless qualities of t.ie heart as lower and less
worthy— good in themselves, but possessing none
of tlic royalty of mind. Nothing could be more
selfish or untiiir : tor it is to confine tlic comparison
to what is Icsii coiiHpicu«>us in woman with what
is chiefiy so in man, and to neglect to continue it
into those very points wherein man would lose
and woman iniuscen<iently excel. Man and
woman ouirht not to be compared according to
their relative wealth in one spiritual quality in
jiarticulw. By lueh a ooune each is in turn
found w anting. That this should have been kx:
sight of by intending * vindicatun* ' of W4troan b
not a little surprising, aud very unfortonstticr
them, as they have failed of necessity to piwe Uk
equality really existing, by confining their atan-
tion to what tmly indicates twetiuality. It v>
quite as alisurd to tliink slightingly of woomb
because of her deficiency in man s peculiariDC
as it would be to reverse the custom, and dis-
parage man for his lack of tiie chaiaoteu^tiesof
Ute female. A"d for tiie same reason i; is vain to
expect similar intellectual uotk$ from inaa ao<!
woman, unless as rare exceptions. Nut tkfl
woinaus intellectual powers are dull or «w-
tracted. Quite the ctmtrary. Woman has pmrsd
herself c«>iiipeient to unfold mental prndnets^:'
the highe-t In-auty, but ^he cannot iuiuse into her
writings that mighty vigour which would plis
them on a level with man s. It is with the mia^i
of the two sexes as with their qualities of boJy.
Man is buny, angular, rough, musculsr. ref^ki^
i«hed with strength ; woman is soft, whiter, ex-
quisitely rounded, beauty itself: —
* Induitur, formosa est ; exuitur, ipsa forma est!
Not even if similiu-ly trained, can woman's nieJ
become like man s. No education can rffedsud
a coiivei^ion, any more than it can womaiiiKtaf
masculine intellect. The sexes of ihrir uutartri
frames are not more distinct for all life, ihansie
the sexes of their inner lives. Inderd, the IsOff
are far more real : for, even if it were possible t»
abolish external sex, the psychological rousliia-
tions would >et remain intact, s<reinic that it isoa
these that peisonaliiy depends, and tiiat they sn
bom to an unchangeatile immortality. Sec bo*
in every spontaneous act of life woman briokn^
her ideiititii ation with whatever primarily ei»-
cems the heart, man with whatever pruaarily
coDoems the head. While nan i» mors ikca-
logical, woman is more pio.ia. He nuacmiia*
principles ; >he reniem>>er» iucidrnia : tliose ia
particulir which are c«>unected with iha larlinf^
He deliKhls to read lKK>ks: «lie pnfers t» keif
them ri-ad Fur the eye is the organ [
of the u II tiers taiiding, ttie ear Uiatol I
The one is more luaaculiue, the
nine."
Ejltlnrit.
nX THE AUTHOR OF "tUB ART OK RKASONINO.**
No. XVIII.— FIGURATIVE EXPRESSION.
Figurative Expression is a theme which has given vast scope for nonsense-writing.
Some rhetoricians appear to think that it can be readilj acquired bj art; and, influenced
by thijj idea, have written out laboriously minute recipes for the manufacture of /^figures
of speech.** Bjr so doing they seem to expect tliat their pupils will readily acquire the
power of trimming and bespangling their compositions — like the regal vestments of a stage-
king — with itemal ornaments. Such adornment, however, is " no more like the true thing
than a bad half-crown rings like a good one;** it is the mere frippery of eloquence; one of
the evil results of the general acceptance of that shallow saying of Lord Chesterfield's,
** The manner of speaking is as important as the matter." To write or speak in a truly
rhetorical manner, it is not at all necessary to acquire the absurdly extravagant style of
Sir Hudibras, who
" Could not ope
His mouth, but out then; dew a trope."
The clap-trap oratory of mere dcmagogueism may require to he thus excitingly seasoned;
bat not that higher eloquence whicli becomes the thinker, and confers upon him the
delicious power of awakening in the minds of others high thoughts and noble aims. Figu-
rative expression, to be pleasing, must be natural, and no mere ednct of the /brmtdoB of
mrt. Although, however, we speak thus severely of mere art-culture, let us not be under-
stood as the opponents of art-studies, when kept within proper limits — when not regarded
as the all-in-all of eloquence. Were we indeed so, why our present prelections? Were
aecoracy, grace, fluency, ease, and brilliancy of diction,
" No more diflTicile
Than for a blackbird 'tis to whistle,"
what need were there for our lengthy exposition of the principles of thought- utterance?
It is because we believe that nil men may bo improved by a diligent study of the laws of
tluraght that we write. This is the true province of art. Not origination, but iinprove-
ment — ^not the imparting of power, but the culture and training of power possessed — are
the ends and aims of true art. Hence it is that we shall abjure the example of the recipe
maoafactnrers, and expound rather the principles of thonght from which figurative lan-
gnage proceeds, than the method of artificially cultivating the art of rhetorical omamenta«
tien.
Thought may exist in the mind either (1) purely, (2) in conjunction with either ima^-
mtion or emotion, or (3) in conjunction with both. In the pure state (1) it is strictly
logioal and cognitive; in the singly combined state (2) it is either icsthetic or impassioned;
in the dnplez combination (3) it is intellective, lesthetic, and emotive. Pare thought
«b]j reqnires truth, clearness, pertinence, correctness, and is altogether alien to figuratiT9
•zprassion. The just, the adequate, and precise exposition of the matter with which onr
•ognitivv fiwoltj {Erhmminiu-vermogtn) is concerning itself, is all that can be fiurij
202 RHETORIC. — NO. XVIII.
demanded of us; as it is, indeed, all that can be given. Imaginative or impasaoned
thought, being of duplex origin, must bear intimations of the sources whence it spriogt:
to truthful and correct expression must bo added beauty or energy — ^taste or passion. In
such cases language must neither be dark nor barren, but to the lucidity of inteUect most
add the brightness with which imagin^ition lialvcs all things, or the life and action which
the passions lend. When thought flows from tripartite sources — when intellect, taste, and
emotive ardour are conjoined — an elegantly-idealized and gracefully-ardent nuDoer will
result. Thus it will be seen that there is no one style which can be always the hat-'
there is no recipe by which those who have not thought peculiarly can express themsdvti
peculiarly. The thoughts which arise in a man's head or heart will find espresaon fitted
to themselves much more easily than enter into a forced marriage with an ill-cb«»«i liift>
companion. Style evolves itself spontaneously; art can only aid its growth, and ought ml
to attempt to modify or alter its constituent characteristics, but merely co-operate la its
healthy and legitimate development. As the foliage and blossom of a phmt mast bear a
certain relation to the stem and radicle from which they spring, and the circomstaMei
which surround them, so must style — the flower and fruit of mind — depend for its essentiil
characteristics upon the native power and subsequent culture of that from wbidi it ger-
minates, and those things by which it is influenced. If we think well we must potentially
possess the capacity of speaking and writing well, for that is the mere extemalization of
thought, — the making of that objective which aforetime was subjective. As is the/oni
of our thought, so shall be the fonn of our style, varying continoally, accor^ng to tbt
changing of the mind's view of the matter of its thought.
These few introductory remarks we regard as needful to remind the reader of the mctlMi
of exposition whieh we have adopted in all our prelections on this subject, viz., that d
seeking in the mind itself, and not in the arbitrary rules of iUnstrions men, the rationdm
of rhetorical laws.
To those who havo followed us thus far it will appear evident first, thai there srs teo
species of beauty capable of being blended together in composition, vis., (I) of thouf!ht,
(2) of manner; and that the latter depoids upon the former; and likewise, secondly, that
there are two processes of mental action capable of being exerted in both, via., (1) cboiei^
(2) arrangement.
Beauty of thought refers to the topic upon which the mind engages itad£ WImb
tkit is reflected upon in such a manner as to produce a union of truth and taste, tbt
thought is said to be beautiful. As a general rule it may be asserted, that in the choiet
of thoughts we should avoid all low, mean, unnatural, oseless, and erroneous ideas, aai
should aim at the acquirement of those which are noble, worthy, oorreet, agreeable,
ficial, and ingenious. In the arrangement of these thoughts we should adopt that
n^ich may be most efficacious in securing the end we have in view. This depvtMsat sf
rhetoric, however, may be more beneficially treated of in a future paper on MsCbod; in the
meantime it may snfiice to ssy that, when one has made himself fally master of the lezinn
of a language, each idea calls up the precise word or words by which it may W most easiy
introduced, representatively, into the mind of another; and when one has tbensgl^?
acquainted himself with the matter of his thought, and has fSamiharised UmM wiA the
principles of mind on which it exerts an influence, he most knenr thik
RRETOniC^MO. XVIII. 205
certain modes of expression; and, inTenelj, that these modes of expression, as thoj orij^i-
nate in certain states of thought, or proceed from certain principles of mind, mui^t ednce
the same states, or act npon the same principles, in the minds of others ; and hence that
beauty in the arrangement of thonght is secured when the matter is so syntagmated or
methodized as to attain readj and acceptable inspection and credence from others.
BxAirrr of MAsyEB concerns itself with the mode adopted for exposition. The means
of espoflttion are twofold: (1) arrangement (fur which sec remarks in preceding parsgrsph
and onr fatnre paper on Method), (2) langnsgo. Bennty of lan;;aage is also duplex j and
may consist (a) in the harmony and relation of onr words to the matter of onr thoughts,
or (4) in the harmony and relation of words to one another. Of these, however, we do not
intend to discourse separately, bnt shall go on speaking of them unitedly as productiTe of
demands upon the attention regarding these three points, viz., Ist, srntactic stnicture; 2nd,
Ttfiety of style; drd, figurative expression. The first and second topics have already been
suflidently prelected upon ; and, though they may be referred to occasionally, we purpose
confintns: our attention, at present, to the j>rinciple3 and laws of figurative expression.
This subject has been treated of in such a number of ways, each possessing advantages
peenliar to itself, that it is very difficult indeed to decide npi»n the method whirh combines
the greatest number of advantages. Of these wc may mention the following, viz.:—'
(a) I. Figures of arrangement— II. of conversion, or tropes. (6) I. Figures of analogy —
IL of substitution — III. of construction; IV. epithetic figures; V. figures resulting from
the impassioned and indirect expression of thought, (c) I. Figures which add beauty to
language — II. to thought (^) I. Figures addressed to the intellect; II. figures which
affpct the passions, (r) I. Figures of imagination — II. of intellect ; III. coalescent
fignrss, or those which excite at once imagination and intellect. (/) I. Figures of
smind — II. of sense. (//) Figures of similarity — II. of opposition — III. of substitution.
(A) I. Figures of intellect — II. of imagination — III. of emotion — IV. of all combined.
This latter arrangement we shall in a great measure adopt, as being at once comprehensive
and philosophical, although we shall not pledge onrselves to a strict adherence to any
ijBtem in all points. Indeed, it is difficult to perceive the possibility of any very minute
and peremptory classification, as, from the very constitution of the human mind, it will
appear obvious that there must be a gradual shading off from one to the other. The
elementa of thought are so various, and they may be oonbincd in proportions so diverse,
that any rigid and inflexible system of classification must fail from want of practicability.
WliUa approving therefore, in general, of the division last mentioned, we shall take
leave to deviate from the arrangement it proposes, if at any time it should present the
a|ip«Bmee of leading ns into error.
Tbifl additional amount of prefatory matter we have hud before the reader in order that
ha raaj be led to perceive the difficulties which lie in the way of our progress, and may ha
ineUned to grant us an indulgent hearing, even when he may suppose that we are wander-
ing from the pathway to the palace hall of Truth.
flgnrative expression onght not to be regarded as an artifice of style, but as an essential
nqnisite to the adequate exponentiation of the thoughts which originate in the mind of a ^
being of sneh a complex character as man, in whom clear thought, refined tai te, exquiute
imaginatinrpvwan; and ever-active paasioni,
204 RHKTORIO. — NO. JCVIU.
" Mingle in one being, like
The married colours in the bow of hetren."
The bare itatesquenesB of merely intellectnal thought u andonbtedlj beaatifal; bnt the
picturesqueness of tbonghts which exhibit imagination and passion is still more exqaiuteljsoi
Bat it is seldom, indeed, that thought passes through and leaves the mind withont exciting
some emotion, or calling into action some principle of taste. Those thoughts will always afford
the greatest grati6cation to men which impart the greatest possible amount of actintj; kt
upon activity all delight depends. Those thoughts, therefore, wbich excite or empk^ tbe
whole of the mental powers are most fitted to secure general attention, and to produce the
largest measure of beneficial result. Thought-expression, to be generally interesting,
must base itself on this fact — must pass actively through the intellect, the taste-facultio,
and the emotional nature of man, or our speech or writing will never issue in an " Autunn
^dropping fruits of power.** The logical form of speech is only the mode which the intelUet
adopts as the clearest and most readily comprehensible expression of that which agitata
it; because this is the case, however, we are not to infer that there is no other method of
•espresfiing ideas which is natural and proper. So far is that from being the case, that on
many occasions those forms of language which are called *' figures of speech*' arise nan
•naturally and spontaneously than any other; nay, the very poverty of human langosge
renders such a use of words a necessary element in the communication of thought. ** Tbe
figurative use of words is very extensive; a use to which necessity at first gave birth,
because of the poverty of words and barrenness of language; but which, on account of the
delight and pleasure derivable from it, became very frequently practised. . . . F^
•rative speech, introduced in consequence of scantiness of phraseology, has continued to be
cultivated because of tbe delight it gives."* The more copious the ideas entertained by
the soul of man become, the more difficult it is " with words like colours** to " limn them
on the canvas" of the sense. By the use of figurative speech, however, and by bringing Ib
our aid the numerous analogies in things of which the mind is conscious, the richofM of
our mode of thought-utterance is vastly increased. It cannot but be evident that., as the
greater number of our ideas are received by, or originated in, ua by the external senses,
■M the most frequent figures must be those which apply the details of the external world
as analogical of those which pass in the inner invisible world of mind. It must also be
regarded as a fact given in consciousness, that " the association of ideaa** holds in the
•imaginative and emotional as well as in the intellectual nature of man, and hence that the
relations of ideas, whether as co-existent or enccessional, most rule in fignratiTe langoigt
not less than in logical thoughtf
It may be as well, perhaps, however, before proceeding farther, to aid the ttnknt is
perceiving more clearly the advisability of the division which we have adopted to dmSf
the varions *' figures of speech,** and arrange them before him In a tehnUur eehcaMi^ m
which he may have a list of the denominations which they have received, and ft nodoft ef
the relations wbich they bear to each other, at one view, thus, vis.: —
* " Modoa tnmRforendi verba lati patet ; quam neceasitas primum genolt, ooeeta inopia ct
tias; poetautemdelectatiojucunditasque celebravit .... Yerbi translatio inslitiita cat i
ausa, flnequcntata delectationit."— Cjcero't " De Oratort^ lib. Ui.
f Jot an exposition of the laws of associaUon, vii9 "Art of Reasofdng,'* No.XZ^f.4M.
i — '*^
BHETORXC. — ^»0. XYIU.
205
FIGURES OF SPEECH.
H
O
M
•a
»a
H
I-
mm
•a
Sfecies I.—Deerementive ■>
1. Ellipsis.
2. Asjmdeton.
3. AnacoluUioD.
4. Aposiopesis.
•*>. Hyperbaton.
6. SynoethrtBimos.
Speeiet II, — Antithetic.
o
H
Species I. — Resemhlant.
C 1. Entntiosifl.
2. Autanaclasis.
3. Antiinetabole.
4. Pamdia&tole.
5. Syiioeceiosis.
1^ 6. Paronomasia.
^ 1. SimUe.
2. Allegory.
3. Metaphor.
4. Catachrens.
6. Hyperbole.
6. PeniouificatioQ.
7. Vision.
L 8. Apostrophe.
Species III.—
Amplijleative . . .
J 1. Metonymy.
I 2. Synecdoche.
Species II,— Substitutive • 3. Antonomasiau
I
4. Metalephis.
5. Periphrasis.
Class III.—
Of Emotion.
1. Anaphora.
2. Anadiplosis.
3. Analepsis.
4. Apposition.
6. Epanalepsis.
6. Epanaphora.
7. Epiphora.
8. Climax.
9. Anticlimax.
10. Exergasia.
11. Euphemismos.
12. Pleonasm.
13. Polysyntheton.
14. Synonymy.
1. Erotesis.
2. Esphonesis.
3. Dissideration.
4. Irony.
5. Sarcasm.
6. Mimesb.
7. Litotes.
8. Auxesis.
0. Tapinosis.
10. Prolepsis.
11. Synchoresis.
13. Anacoenosis.
13. Aporia.
14. Epanorthosis.
Class IV.—
EPITUETIC.
1. Onomatopceia.
2. Antiphrasis.
3. Polyptolon.
4. Ploce.
b. Oxymoron.
. 6. Enallaxe.
I. Figures of Intellect. — It cannot have escaped the observation of the most care-
less, that there is a fitness in certain verbal arrangements to arrest thought and quicken
attoition — that there are certain combinations and juxta-positions — certain modes of
exciting the susceptibilities of the mind and presenting ideas effectively to it — which
riolate the strictlj logical method of exposition, and are yet more successful in realizing
tbe object of the speaker or writer than it. That these deviations from ratiocinatire
coDseciitiTeness are erroneous few will be bold enough to affirm, since thej exhibit cor
thoQghts more clearlj and forcibly than they could be by any other mode of utterance.
I^ then, they are natural, there must be some mental principle or principles on which
tfadr superior efficacy depends. The central principle we believe to be the economization
of intenectual energy.* This principle may be said to imply the following law, viz., that
* 8e0 0US well illustrated iu a paper of singnlar merit in " The Westminster Review," October,
ISaSy ** Oa the Philosophy of Style/' to which we have mach pleasure in owning our indebtedness.
206
IS THE CHARACmt OF TDB DUKJE OF WKLUXGTOir
occasional change of stracture u advisable, and that for the following rcaaoos, tu.: — I.
Occasional change, as it intermits the excessive activity of anj one facoltj of mind, and
imparts rest to it, capacitates in it greater vividness of perception; t. «., change, as it con-
serves the moderate exertion of the mental powers, conserves also their healtbj aetiw
2. Occasional change, as it calls a greater nnmber of faculties into operaticn upon the
same topic, produces pleasure. 3. Occasional change lessens monotony, and heightens our
gratification by the sense of contrast. 4. Occasional change enables us to impart oor
thoughts more pertinently to a greater number of minds, as well as to apg>eal to thoie
several minds iu various ways, and thus secure a greater number of possible arenues for
the entrance of our thoughts. These occasional changes, however, must result finom fixed
laws in the human mind, and impress other minds in accordance with the laws which govern
them. Keeping these principles in view, we may proceed to the enumeration and descripticc
of some of the chief Figures of the Intellect. Our readers, however, may perhap-s permit as
to interject one remark, namely, that though we include the following figures in the abo?^
mentioned class, we do not mean that they are wholly the result of intellectual causes, bot
that these causes predominate, and hence confer on them the class characteristic which is
implied in the name we have given them.
In our next paper we hope to supply those who are anxiously asking how shall
" I discipline my young novitiate thought ? "
with sui h an explanation of the mental origin and general characteristics of the aboft-
mentioned figures of speech as shall enable some of them, by diligent culture, to have it
said in after-day of them, as was said of one of old, —
"On the tip of hi* subduing tonguo
All kinds of arguments and (|ueHtions deep,
All replication prompt and rea»on strong.
For his advantage still did wake and bleep,
To make the weeper laugh — tlie laughtrr weep;
He had the dialect and different skill.
Catching all pnAsions in bis cnit of will,
That he did in the general bosom reign
Of young and old."
JBistarif^
IS THE CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON WORTHY Off
ADMIRATION ?
NEUTRAt ARTICLE.
'* Rashly, nor ontimes truly, doth man pa«s judg-
ment on his brother ;
for be seeib not the springs at the heart, nor
heareth the reasons of the mind."
M.T.Tyyper.
** The Dnke of We11in{((oii is one of (hat bright
band of whom it may be justly aaidj —
*' ' Sucfa souls are rare ; and mighty patterns given
To earth; and meantforomameuts to heaven.***
J. a. R,
** The langoaoe which Byron addresaad to hia
•till retains all its point: —
" * Never had mortal men mdi
Except Napoleon, or ahi— d il
Wfiw tire unt puMic
tfa« WellingtoB toiiraameal
was the intereit wUdh it
ficat
WOKTUT or AI>M1RAT10M ?
S07
w«re the ejres "bent with esg^r gaze** upon
the field of oomlwL That tournament ia now
OTer ; bat ita " foot print*** are left " on the sandd
of time,** and ita trophies are hung np in the
halla of the Controvtrt'talitL For the par-
pose, then, of examining these trophies more
minutely, and of enabling the readers of this
magazine to Tiew Wellington, if possible, in
a proper light, we pen this article. We shall
apeak freelj of our hero, utterly regardless of
t\itfact that he is dead, which yiic/ has been
laid much stress uixm, but which, we wuuld
premise, should not weigh one lota either for
or against him.
The two meet striking and charaeteristic
of these trophies — these pen-won iaard»—
are those which are placed at the bead of
this paper; and, siraplj pointing out boir
truthfully they illu:>trate the lines of Tai^wr,
und how significant the contrast between
them, we will proceed to a brief review of
the others, putting them, for tlte purpose of
more readily comprehending their scope and
signification, in a tabular form, pro and con.
Pro, WKLLniGTON CuARiVCTEHisTics. Con.
" We see him, not resorting to the height " The immense sacrifice of men at Ciudad
of extravagance in revengeful actions, or IIodri:;o and Badajos was by no means com-
ozuhing over his foes with cruel rapacity or pensated for by the capture of those ph
horrid butchery; but, on the contrary, mani- — Aristides^ p. 59.
festing steady and unflinching adherence to
the stern mandatesof justice, and tempering
mil bis movements with merciful considera-
tion.**—T. fT., p. 20.
" A love of country, coupled with a sym-
pathy for the faults and failings of his fel-
low-creatures, caused him at once to be just,
but yet merciful." — C. Tr., Jun.^ p. 57.
*' To pity he was a stranger.** — ArittideSf
p. 60.
''The axnount of forethoaght evidenced
" ' Shameless rapacity, brutal intemperance,
savage lust, cruelty, and murder — shrieks
and piteous lamentations, groans, shouts,
imprcciitions, the hissing of fires bursting
from the houses, the crashing of doors and
windows, and the reports of muskets used in
riolence, resounded for two days and two
nights in the streets of I3adaj<>z.' And who
permitted this, do you ask? We answer, the
general commanding." — L'Ouvrier^ p. 109.
^ Neither his skilful combinations, his art-
t>y him in all his services, together with ful manaeu\Tes, hU inflexibility of purpose,
that prompt decision, that unwearied perse- nor his personal valour, can command our
▼erance and strict regard to the requirements admiration, unless these be yoked to a good
of duty by which he was ever characterized, cause, and that cause itself be the only, or
render him deserring our respect." — 7'. ir., at least the chief, motive, for engaging in
' p. 2 1 . it.**— -4 ruttidts, p. 23.
** We base our admiration of Wellington " We grant, at once, that in the minor
tipoD two positions, . . . the first being in traits of frankness, conrage, decision, promp-
respect of those qnalities of mind and habits titude, unceasing activity, persisteney of
of industry which led him on to greatness; pnrpose, his Ufe forms a pleasing contrast to
ths second being that true nobleness of natare that presented by the lives of many OMte
'wUeh guarded him from falling a victim to highly-gifted men; yet these, as they involve
those €unbitioHt propentiUei which have so not great principles, cannot elicit our admi-
often overtaken other great men." — C. ir., ration of a pabhc num, so marred bj other
^tM., pp. ST'S.
deficiencies.** — A ristidet, p. 60.
^The poor old I>ake endeavoured to carry " Wellington's duty consisted in inplidt
nvi pmctieally and sealonsly the injunction obedience to his orders; and in the exeentfon
of Kelson, ' To do his duty.* ** — J. G. B.^ of these orders it was no consideration of hb
p. 104. whether they were morally right or wrong,
nor what might be the cost of |gopaity or
life thereby: his duty was to obey.**—
VOwrier, p. 108.
208
IS THB CBARACTEB OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTOir
** An attentive observer cannot fail to dis- " We find him in the attitnde of renstance
tingnish throughout his senatorial proceed- towards the three momentous questions which
logs, as well as in his military transactions, then agitated the kingdom — the repeal of the
8Qch qualities, and such manifestations of com laws, religious disabilities, and parlia-
Yirtue and justice, as constitute the general mentarj reform; and, if he could hare had
tenor of his character worthy our admira- his way, no modification would have been
tion.'*— r. TT., p. 21. granted."— ^rwf«fe*, p. 24.
** The Duke always entertained serions ^ It is to the out-of-door agitation we ar»
apprehensions that any alteration in the indebted for the concessions made daring hii
laws would materially affect, and probably adniiidstration, rather than to the ministxy;
injure, the interests and prosperity of the so far as his own opinions were concerned,
kingdom at large; but when he saw that he was stoutly opposed to them; but the
disastrous results were likely to fullow unless excitement throughout the country was so
certain remedial measures and alterations intense, so irresistible, that no altematire
were proposed and carried into effect, he
sacrificed his convictions, .... and cheer-
fully assisted in carrying out any measure
calculated to promote the general welfare." —
J. G. R.^ pp. 105-6.
" His charity and benevolence, always un-
obtrusive, was most gratifying. One or two
was left to ministers, if they did not concede,
but to relinquish office." — AristidcSj p. 24.
"We find him, while in power, placing his
mother on the pension list. . . . . Hi»
instances, selected from the many, will sof- own ofiicial salaries, and his various bountiei,
fico," &c. — J. G. /?., p. 104. were surely sufiSciently munificent to hare
enabled him to have secured her who bare
him from being degraded into a state pauper.*
— Aristidesy p. 58.
** His biographer says, ' He loved to do " Karely was he animated by generous
good by stealth, and did not care to find it impulses to assist the weak or overawe the
fame.' "—7. G. -ft., p. 104. strong." — ArUtides, p. 60.
" For my own part, I am glad that he was " The test by which it is endeavoured to
satisfied with the whispers of an approving convince us of the rectitude of the Duke . . .
conscience, endorsed with and by the appro- is fatally defective, inasmuch as a man's
bation of his Queen, his country, and the conscience is not some incorruptible faculty,
majorpartofthestatAof Europe."— J.6\/if., but one subject to modification from hk
p. 104. principles and pursuits; .... and it is »>•
torious that the Duke never was a favourite
with the people at large, either of his ovn
country or of the countries of the contiutnt.*
— ArUtideSj p. 143.
"He always evinced a laudable anxiety "His famous declaration that men who
that the soldiery should have the ai^sistance believe in the Xew Testament have do bnsK
of chaplains of orthodox principles and ness in the army, will serve to coooterKl
exemplary conduct." — J. G. /?., p. 105. any danger of mistaken views being entff-
tained regarding the religious sentiments «f
his grace." — ArUtiikSy pp. 143-4.
''When speaking or thinking of the de* "Was he more than an instrument, and
parted Duke, let ns ever remember that, would he have refused to conduct the army
^ unvanquished in the field,' his sword wns in an unjust war? In this both negative
never drawn for territorial conquest, but for and positive evidence is against him."—
the independence of Europe and the salvation Aristidea, p. 143.
of his country." — C. IF., Jun.y p. 58.
^He Ai ways acted as a disixiteTe&tedi^tVy^ "He was the aristocracy's hero, both ii>
Mnd there is but one impression wVxcVi '\% W^ ^^^ *:^^ vci "Cqa ^xUament house; and
irresiBtibJf conveyed to the m\i\d oi vVt t^^.^\\^iAt\I«^wl«fe^«cv^^s^'Ow»^^^^
WOBTHT OF ADMIBATIOH ?
209
reader of his life, tIz., his earnest devoted- titles and estates, the places and peosioDSy
ness to his oonntry.*'— V. (r. It,, p. 106. were granted as the reward of those serviceft
which contributed to secure them in their
iniinnnities and privileges.** — ArittideSy p.
145.
The above tabulated statements contain,
if we mistake not, the pith of the several
papers which have appeared on this ques-
tion; and when it is noted how widely anta-
gonistic these statements are, it will at once
be perceived that the task is not easj of
forming a true estimate of Wellington's cha-
racter, and that not onlj must our range of
information be varied and extensive — ^not
onlj must we drink largelv at all the intel-
lectual rivulets which fliow into the one great
channel, but that the greatest amount of
careful and patient thought, the deepest and
broadest investigation, and the widest pos-
sible induction and deduction,must be brought
to bear upon the subject.
The writer of the first affirmative article
finds cause to admire Wellington's character
both as a soldier and a statesman ; his jus-
tice, mercy, and strict regard to the require-
ments of duty, as a soldier; and his virtue,
justice, sagacity, foresight, and common sense,
«8 a man. Now, there are two points to be
remembered in judging the character of a
soldier: the one is, to exclude all considera-
tion of the merits of the cause for which he
^ghts; the other, to keep these prominently
in view. The latter is the method which
has been adopted by ahnost all panegyrists
of Wellington; and hence, thinking that he
^ught for the *' liberties of Europe and the
ealvatioo of his country,** they have seen
<*U8e to shower upon him praises innumer-
•hle. The former, however, seems to be the
method adopted by T. W. and the other
"mnoAtive writers; and consequently for the
Pf^ent we will take the same ground,
*<mchiBg upon the Utter, however, in another
I*rt of our paper.
Against the assertions of T. W. we have
?°?«» «« tabulated, of "Aristides" and
MHivrier.*' Now, having token the
^^ to read and study the history of
W«llmgton*s military cax«er, from his first
^Ploit in India to his final ckef-d'amvre at
Waterioo, and his consequent entry into
™«, we are compelled, by the evidence
»«pre us, to allow him those qualities for
*^"ch, a;} a soldier, T. W. has praised him.
View him for a moment after the storming
of Seringapatam. For two days his exertiona
to save the lives and properties of the inha-
biUnto never flagged ; and during the time
he was governor there his invariable justice
and humanity won for him the gratitude of
the inbabitanta. So much did they esteem
him, that on his return from Assaye they pre-
sented him with an address, in which " they
implored the God of all castes and of aM
nations to hear their consUnt prayer that,
whenever greater affiurs might call him
away from them, to bestow on him health,
glory, and happiness.*** "To this hour,"
says one who wrote some twenty years ago,
" the memory of all these services, and more
particularly of those which he rendered to
the terrified and desolate natives in the
moment of our triumph and their distress, is
cherished by the aged inhabitants of Seringa-
patam with gratitude.**f
View him again in the Peninsula. Trace
him from Portugal to Paris. We find every-
where the same characteristics which dis-
tinguished him in India. We know, and we
mourn over it, that many of his victories
were purchased at a tremendous sacrifice of
life, particularly those of Ciudad Rodrigo
and Badfljoz; but, against the assertion of
**L*Ouvri«r," that our killed and wounded
were ever far greater than those of the
French, we, in all fairness, must place the
faetj *^that the losses of the French were
never aetuaUy known, at, throughoui the
wary they pfMished no returns" *' Many o(
Lord Wellington's proceedings,** says Napier,
" might be called rash, and othen timid and
slow, if taken separately; yet, when viewed
as jmrts of a great plan for delivering the
whole Peninsula, they will be found discreet
or daring, as the circnmstonces warranted.**^
With respect to the conduct of the soldiers
at Badajoz, it is due not only to Wellingtooy
• " DisfWtches," vol. ili. p. 430. Andri Vieus-
aeuz, ** Militarv Life of Wellinfrton."
f Captain Moyle Sherer, ** Military Memoirs
of the Duke of Wellington."
t W. Napier, '* History of the War in the Pe-
ninftula."
rinkinf; conlrubt rxhiliilnl Ih'Iim'vii Wi-IILii;;- .
tarn and bit igUicrii iDil iIk rrvmli psurnki
and their Iroopi — tlw una liriiie li.T plundtr,
nainc, aiul bkioiI»li«J, muMcrine tlic in-
lubitinU with wliinn llwy c.iinp in ronlkct.
ntialiiii;' that nircn mil jwitiliicrn. tuniin;;
tlw turtih vallry into tlw "irvlf, linniiiit: |
wildFnMM.'uultlie u<us ufjof intu llirwail
of lunentatimij llie ntlier, iIkhieIi at tiiiie;<
witbaal fond, andcipowdlutiK' molt trnrtal ,
tCMptatioDtiitill, ill ecnenl, nlniniiiE fmui !
phiidaand derattilion. Mill pnitccliii; tlir
Utw uid prDpcrtin of tlis iafaibitautii, and
mclf, if CTir, optalj dli1i«i<iariDi: tlirir
tlw peaceful lecuritv uf tlie <r hornet. - Wli.'n-
I CMnrnand," Wellington aayt eii.-r<:ctl.nl1r.
tlut po one thull W illomd to i.lundrr. If
plunder innat br liad. tlien aiiutlif r 1llu^t hivi'
th* cainn>vid."t "Hia catnjiaijrnii," nja
Gouthe]', "have been aullicd by no iTueltiw
— no crimes; uid llip cbariM'Wta(c]> uf bis
WeanTuaeh.now.tothalliijjhly-ealiipiirrl
WOaiMT or ADMIBATIOa ?
su
beirts." We Mievs that there are hmdreds
of othen, wbeae names are wnttea in blood,
end yet who have acted under the same im>
poiM of dntj; and we do think that, *< if a
men stem, iniiexaUe obedience to a lenae of
dotj of any §art^ without «t all inquiring
dntj to whom or what, is to be esteemed a
•officiMit title to admiration, tium wen these
men admbable."*
It was WellingtoD's sense «f duty which
led him, when TenraostnUed with by some
offioera, to make that fiimoas declaration on
religion whieh has been referred to by " Aris-
tidM,** and which dedaimtieo, we opine,
shonld oeCQpy a more prominent place in the
minds of his pulpit admirers. It was the
same sense of doty whioh led him, at Bada-
jox, to impale his men by hundreds on the
nnrs of glittering swoid-blades which the
French had fastened into planks and thrown
acTMa the breaches, it was the ssdm feel-
h)g of duty which animated him, in 1632,
'^when he was quite prepared to lead forth
the army to crush his cenntrymen who were
crying far reform, and had actually issued
his ordeni for the Scotch Greys to ' rough*
sharpen their swords en the grindstone,' and
to be in readiness to fall on tlie people/'f It
was the same inexaeable sense of duty which
carried him through that war which cost
some fourteen or fifteen hundred millions of
Boney, and spilt the blood of the best and
brsTest of England's sons in defence, as it is
said, of liberty.
Leaving, then, this pointy we will examine
another and store important one, vis., the
correctness of the assertion that Wellington
lived and fought ^ for the liberties of Europe
and the solvation of JUs oonntry." With
almost all the adasireis of Welliogtoo this is
the keystone of their pcaise — the major pca-
mise from wltich tlKy daw their favouxabie
eonclnaioas. Our aristocxats have raised the
07, oor historians haw taken it up, our
)Kilpit>«cBtofs have spread it far and wide,
and the people haveecfaoed and prolonged it,
till everywhere has been heaed, ** WelHngtoa
and the liberties of Europe! " '< Welfingten,
who bore aloli the swm>l of oenqnest that
he might pbat in its atead the emblems of
iteaee!" This fidsome adulation uannot be
too atzongly eondeniMed, sspeoiaHy when, as
♦ " Henld of Peace."
t md^—Asidrrw SomerfUle, who was in the
Scotch Oxeys at die tfaae— pp. Mi— 910.
it appears to us, it has no £Muidatioa in
facts.
We deem it a duty, not only to the cause
of peace and humanity, but also to our
brethren across the chaonel, to assert that
Wellington fought not fiir the " liberties of
Europe;*' nay, more, that England was the
aggressor in the last war, and that it was
entered upon for the sole purpose of putting
down the spirit of refom, and that thirst for
liberty which was then menacing not only
the throne of kingly and priestly despotism
in France, but even in England and manj
other nations.
When we have studied the French revo-
lution of 1789 — when we have perused the
debates in the English senate at the time —
when ve have reviewed the conduct of the
French nation to England during the revo-
lutivi, the conduct of Napoleon afterwards,
and the policy of England and her minis-
ters-^when we have mastered the contents
of the earnest speeches ef Fox, Sheridan,
Tiemy, Erskine, Grey, and Holland, on the
one side, and the rabid declamations of Burke,
GrenviUe, Pitt, and other supporters of the
war, on the other, then shall we know whether
the "cause was sanctified by rights ** then
shall we be in a positaon to apeak rightly of
the war, and to praise or condemn, to curie
or bless, the general who so aUy directed it.
It is mournful to see with what com-
placence it is assumed that Wellington
headed a necessary and unavoidable war;
and we regret that the limits of the Cmttro-
vertidUst prevent us from entering into a
detailed investigation on this point. We
feel compelled to say that a eahn and die-
passionate review of the whole of the evidence
relating to the war in which Wellingttti
gained bis honours, titles, and pensions — ia
which '* two millions ef hnaau lives were
destroyed in eveiy conceivable form of agony"
— will prove beyond dispute the jnonmfnl
fact, that England was Ihe afyreuor, U is
an historical £ict that, when the Freneh
revolution took place — when the people of
France were jnstJy straggling for their rights
and liberties against the tyranny of the crown
and the nobles— when the nhout for rsfoim
had made totnmble the tjrants of tlie earth,
certain ef the fcreign powers, with the Duke
of Brunswick at then- head, fearing that the
death of tyranny and de^otism was at hand,
at once armed themselves and prepared la
212
IS THE CnARACTRR OF THB DUKB OF WSLLINGTON
invade France, in order to restore the fallen
prerogatives of the king, to drown the cry for
liberty and reform, and to prop np the then
tottering throne oif tyranny and despotism.
And what followed? Hear it in the words
of Alison : — ** No doubt (says he) can now
exist that the interference of the allies aug-
mented the horrors and added to the duration
of the revolution. All its bloodiest excesses
vfere committed during or after an alarm>-
ing hut unsuccessful invasion hy the allied
forces."* The allies were repulsed with dis-
grace; and England then took up the cry,
put hertself at the head of the coalition,^ and
forced France into that war which for twenty
years darkened the affairs of Europe, and
which France did everything in her power to
avert. And what has this war left us? Bead
the answer, written as it is with a pen of
blood, in the world itself. Bead it in the
words of Brougham, who says, " Fifteen mil-
lions have been squandered on cruelty and
crime — in naturalizing barbarism over the
world — shrouding the nations in darkness —
making bloodshed tinge the earth of every
country under the sun; and all with the
wretched, and, thank God ! I may now say,
the utterly frustrated, as it always was the
utterly vain, attempt to crush the liberties of
the people/'t
We do earnestly hope, then, that the ful-
some adulation of Wellington as the defender
of our "rights and liberties" will, ere long,
cease to be heard. W^e hope that his ad-
mirers will, for the future, base their admi-
ration on another foundation; for, not only
does the evidence relating to the war prove
this a slippery and unsafe one, but Welling-
ton's military oath, and his theory of duty,
wholly incapacitate him for receiving any
admiration on this 8Core.§
Wo come, now, to Wellington's life and
• Vol. T. p. 129.
+ " Enpland was still the soul of the coalition,
and the implacable sou of Cbiuham made pro-
digious eflTortt for the destruction of Frauoe."—
M. Thiers.
X Broogham't speech at Liverpool, 1835.
i *' The soldier, be he commander or common
man, who hires himself to do the bidding of
whatever government may have power in hb
eountrj, going out and doing whatever he is com-
jnaoded to do. without reserving to himself the
right ofcoxuidehng whether he fights on. the side ^
of liberty or tyranny, of rigjit or of wvon^^.toakta
binxM^lf a mere automaton, which f5«n dcwne wo
konourr-^** IFeliington," by l>r. Brown.
character as a man and as a statesaiD.
We confess that we approach this part of
our subject with some reluctance A man
in private life may work for good or evil,
and the world know it not; and as a states-
man, as a public character, there are actiofUr
and reasons for actions, which none can
fathom but himself. T. W. and his satellites
have looked upon this phase of his character
from pretty nearly the same point of viev;
and, consequently, we shall- take them to-
gether, as also *' Aristides^and ** L'Ouvrier,"
who have followed on the opposite side, it
is amusing to see how this portion of Wel-
lington's life is made subservient to indi-
vidual views. One sees in it nothing but a
personification of virtue and justice, charity
and benevolence, sacrifice of self, and entire
devotion to the public weal; another, ans-
terity and oppression, selfishness and ingn-
titude, bigoted opposition and forced oooees-
sion, legislation for the aristocracy and not
for the people.
This part of the subject seems to as to re-
solve itself into this, Did Wellington act cm-
scientiously? Did he act with a single eje
to the furtherance of the interests of society,
or was he only animated by class interest,
aristocratic prejudice, or implicit obedience
to the behest of an earthly power? Theic
questions, and others of a like nature, air
hard to solve; but still we must p^ipple iritli
them. Wo can scarce go the whole lengtk
with Cobden, when he says, ** Sometimes it
vras the Queen ; sometimes the public service,
or the apprehension of a civil war, or a
famine, which changed his course, and ia-
duced him to take up a new position; hot
reason, or consciencty or will, seemed to have
no more to do in the matter than in the
manoeuvres of an army;*** for we think that,
at times, reason, wilt, and ooiwcsencc , hal
something to do in the matter; though, at
the same time, we cannot bnt deeply deplort
that these noble attributes of the human saol
were often lamentably obscnred by that sense
of doty which he brought with him £rom tbf
camp to the senate.
Wellington's guiding principles as a states-
man are fully embodied in the words, **daty*
and " necessity." When fully oonvinoed d
the necessity of a measure, he at once appfieti
hvs almost superhuman enorgies to the ea^
WORTIir OF ADMIRATXOIT ?
313
Tying of it; and we admire bis frank and
man I J explanations of conducti his utter
disregard of party, the contempt with which
be met the bitter sneer and biting sarcasm,
eyen when hnrled, as it often was, from his
own partj, and the true John Bull courage
and firmness which carried him through dif-
ficultly which would have overthrown even
l^reater minds. When fully convinced of the
necessity of Catholic emancipation, he at
once adopted it, even when the country was
fur from being unanimous in its support, and
when the church, the mouthpiece of the state,
was loud in its condemnation ; and, amid the
Bost tremendous opposition, he passed it, a
full and complete measure. When attacked
on the score of having at one time voted
against such a measure, he replied in the
following simple and disingenuous words:—
** My lords, I admit that many of my col-
leagues, as well as myself, did on former
occasions vote against a measure of a similar
description with this; and, my lords, I must
say that my colleagues and myself felt, when
we adopted this measure, that we should be
sacrificing ourselves and our pf)pularity to
that which we felt to be our duty to our
sovereign and our country. We know very
well that if wo had chosen to put ourselves
at the head of the Protestant cry of * No
Popery!' we should be much more popular
even than those who have excited against us
that very cry. But we felt that in so doing
we should have left on the interests of the
country a burden which must end in bearing
them down, and, further, that we should
have deserved the hate and execration of our
coantrymen."*
On all questions that came before the
house we find him frankly declaring his
opinion, heedless of praiso or blame. Even
on the celebrated reform bill there is the
same frank and honest avowal of his senti-
nents. After giving his opinion upon it, sm
quoted in a previous number of the Contro-
venktUai, he says, ** I feel bound in candour
amd honour to state that the proposition of
parliamentary reform will meet with my
itrenuoaa and decided opputtition.*" This
lold avowal was made in the face of the
lertain destruction of his ministry ; and
iioogh we may mourn over his want of
KBetratioii and sagacity in not seeing the
• CBtkoUeBOhfBiU, April 4, 1829.
necessity of such a measure, we cannot con-
demn his opposition, when it came from a
conscientious belief that the " representation
could not be improved." And even the
reform bill owes tomethmg to him; for after
a long opposition, and seeing the distracted
state of parties, tlte inflamed condition of the
people, and the critical position of the nation,
be at once withdrew, along with a hundred
peers of his party, from the sittings of the
house, and then the bill was passed, 106
voting for it, and 22 against it*
Wellington was not an enlightened states-
man. He was not a liberal man, in the
popular sense of that term. Ue had not
that far-seeing glance which can discern at
once the wants and requirements of society;
and yet he was far more liberal than many
of his political creed; and when judged by
the men of his own time, instead of the men
of our own day, he will lose little by the
comparison. '* I am not (says he) one of
those who consider that the best means of
preserving the constitution of the country is
by adhering to measures, which had been
called fur by particular circumittances, be-
cause they have been in exbtence two hun-
1 tired years, since the lapse of time might
render it proper to modify, if not to remove
them altogether."!
In conclusion, we would say that Welling-
ton, as a soldier — as a mere machine, that
performed its work well, may be justly ad-
mired; but when contrasted with such men
ss Washington, Kossuth, and others, who
have fought in defence of their rights and
liberties, responsible to none but their God,
he dwindles into insignificance. As a states-
man he possessed many qualities which we
freely admire, and which we would wish to
see more common among the statesmen of
our own day. We admire his courage and
firmness — his frankness and candour — his
'simplicity and unswerving integrity — his
utter contempt of all affectation and cafit—
his immobility amidst all the kingly favours
and praises which were bestowed upon him —
his undeviating rectitude — his freeness from
petty passions and party strifes, and his rigid
adherence to whatever he deemed a duty.
We mourn, however, that with the oppor-
• Hansard's *' Debates," and '< Life of WalliDff.
ton," by Sir A. E. Alexander, F.R.^.
* Debate on CotpQt%\\oii%it4T«\kft>a1&«^«ii^>
BiU, April ftl,\8».
3U
JUDOnrO FROM THS HifaTORT AKD TRKSEST 8TATK OF FRANCE,
tnnities he enjoyed — ^with the talents whir h
he imdoabtedly pomessed — with the long life
that was permitted him — ^he did not do more
for human freedom and prt^ression; that he
(Ud not come more oat into the world, and,
throwing oif his aristocratic prejadices, mix
freely with his fellows, sympathise more
with their wsnts and feelings, and try to
alleviate and lessen their miseries and dis-
tresses. We regret that his cradle was the
camp and tented field. Wc inoam that he was
worshipped as a militair hero. We moam that
historians sing his praises through the tmm-
pet of glory. We mourn that oar poets bend
the knee, and in the melody of rhyme por-
tray his Tictories and triumphs. We mourn
that the world delights to lionoar such — to
erect them statues— to give them titles,
places, and pensions, pa^ising by the men of
mind and intellectual greatness, who so un-
weariedly work for their elevation and en-
lightenment. We mourn, in fine, that Wel-
lington lived and died as a warrior. We
mourn that his last act was that of a war-
rior; and we mourn that he has not carried
with him into the tomb that military spirit,
which is even now fearfully rampant in
England, and which is ever opposed to the
true interests of roan, and the teaching of
Christianity.
We have now done. Wo have felt the
onerous nature of our task, and we tremble
lest we should have erred ; for,
" Tis hard to ceuRure and be just ;
To whet the sword too keen or let it rust ;"
and,
** Perehance, if we knew the whole, aad Itrgdj,
with rofnprehvBsive mind,
Couldst read the history of chandler, the dm*
quered utory or a life.
And into the greta iteeoaxit, which numBCth a
inortal'i dmdny,
Wert to add the force* Crom without, dragpa;
hiin this way and that;
The secret qiialitiea within, grafted on the seal
from the womb.
And the might of other men's example, amoag
whom liiA lot is cost.
And the inflnenoeof want or health, of kindness
or of hanih ill o^age.
Of iprnorance he eannot help, and knowledge
found fur bint by otherx.
And fir^it {iiipreMinns Iinrd to be effaced, ani
leadiuf^s to rMrht or to wronpr.
And inheritance of likeneu ftt>m a father, ari
natural human frailty.
And the habit of heal<h or dlwease, and pnja-
dices pmjred into his mind.
And the royrind little matters which none kit
Omniscience can know.
Ami the accidents that steer the thoughts where
none h!rt Ubiquity can trace them ;—
If we cnuM compass these, and the eonseqaeaOi
flowing fh>m them,
And the scope to which they tend, and the ne>
cessary fitness of all things,"*
then could wc truly and unerringly estimite
character; then should we read the '* secrets
of the heart and the reasons of the mind;'*
but now we truly feci that
" There is so much of good among the worst, m
much of evil in the best.
Such seeming partialities in Pravidrnee, so
many things to lessen and expand :
Yea, and with all man's boast, so lilile freedom
of his will.
That — to look a little lower than the
garb, or dialeet, or faahion —
We may feebly pronounce for a saint, or
condemn for a sinner."
J. n. C.
I^nlitirs.
JUDGING FROM THE HISTORY AND "rRESENT STATE OF FRANCE, IS AS
ATTEMPTED INVASION OF ENGLAND PROBABLE ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.—II.
" He was disposed," Lord Aberdeen said, '* to
dissent from the maxims which had of lata years
received very f^eneral aasent, that the best security
for the continuance of peace was to be prepared
for war. That was a maxim which might have
heerj ap|>lied to the nations of antiquity, and to
Bociety m a comparatively barbatoua and un-
eiviiUed
of the preparations fbr war were rtry JURit
Men, when they adopted mioh a maarim, iMlmBde
large preparations in time of peace that wwuldke
sulHcient in time of war, were apt to be influniecA
by the desire to put their efficiency to the VUL
that all their great prepcHnari'ma. and tt«» rmafees
their t4iil aud expense, migJM Bot be throsni a»*y»
\\«v\\o\xviViV«\\vererore, that it was no aenirilyie
statu, when warlike preparattoTva co«V
but little ; hut it was uot a maxim which onahvio \ axvi w»ms,"Cc^ %^\u%x^t eoM>K» of war, to inear
be applied to modem nations, whan tlia iMaXv\Ma\ s^^iX i£«»wi«% «ftA. xuiia v«ia.^wMn*«B» «sr
» Air ATTXUFTBD niTASIOV OF WGI.AHD PBOBABIA ?
21&
rfitai iBMipuwii. A most distSiiKnialMd ttates-
naa of FnuiM had latcljr amplMtinUy' daeJoveA
in the Fremdi Cbamber his desire for peace ; but
he added tfiaC, to maJntain it, he matt have an
aray offW^OOO mair. And what, he (Iha Earl of
Aberdeen) wetild ask, could be expeeMd from the
raisiajr of such a force but war, or national bank-
ruptcy? He, therefore, dreaded the intention of
thotc who deaired aaeh extensive armameata,
notwitbaiandlaf th« pactie pvoAaaiOM they
made ; and he eomld not be at ease as regarded
the stabilitj of peace until he aav a great redue-
tion in the great eatahliihmeafta of Europe. Sneh
tboold be the groat object of all govemmenta»
uid more eapacially of the ^o'vemaient of this
country."
" Intrlligent men in that aountry eaimot befieve
that we thiak tfacm capable of smh toUy— nay,
madacaa — aa to rush headlong, without provoca-
tion and without notice, into a war with the most
powerful nation in the world, before whose very
pons the raw materials of their manalSiotnres
pass» the supply of which, and tha oonaeqa»t
employment and subsistence of milHons of their
population, would be immediately cot off, to say
nothing of the terriUe retribution which would
be Tisiied upc» their shorea, whilst all the wortd
would be calling for ttie extermination of a com^
munity which bad abdicated its civilized rank,
and become a mere band of lawleMs bncaniers.
Xo; they cannot think ao badly of themselves as
to believe that otberii, whose opinion ^ey respect,
would ever give them credit for such wickedness
or insanity.
*' Bttt I shait be told that the people of Frmnoa
are entirely at the mercy of one man, and that
public opinion is now powerless in that country.
There is nothing about which we make such mis-
takes aa in. passiog judgment upon our next
nei^ibour. PtMit opinion it oe emnip^teni
there as im the United SUatet^ upon mattere with
which it interegtt iUetf; but it takes a different
dfarectkm from otir own, vtA therefore wa do-luMf
appreeiate il Bat it is quite naeeaaary that the
people— T mean the mass of our people— should
be better informed as to the character and cireum-
stanoea of the population of Franee. Teach Eng--
Ushmcn taideapsae another nation, and yon haiva
pone far tesrarda making them quarrel ; and there
11 nothing so sure to evoke our contempt as to be
told that a people have not spirit to maintrio their
rights acai&Bt tha arbitmry will of a vanqpeK." —
& CoMm, Jr. p.
HoB8«BU3tBX appeara to be a promt-
ocnt f«atw« of tbt agew An tmplieU belief
in, and rdienee vpen, ell that the terrois of
the imegiBAtioA not casK9f thxoogh the
nieditmi ef feJar sod deinaiTv nBerepfeseet*-
tioaa, seen* to hew bees the pecaBer eber
neteirietar of eertain- WBOog-headed jeor-
neliete^ wbo, idyiog ea tii* devmted peeikuNi
vhidi thej hold is societjr, here faleelj
aeRiTiied theft tbair peirere of discriainetioa
and jadgmeot ero ae conaefc and iafallibie aa
their ioiiaenceiaeoifeeiMiTeb Weaiighfthsve
ej^KCted, henaever,. that a aatioB pndiag
itself OB ka. jg imee, .eatent, Ji^eMtgmce, ei?tt-
isalion, and refioemeni, ea well as for kfr
Bnperiorify in respect to warlike tactics^ he,
woald have been possessed of better mate-
riala fxx aaeertaiBiDg trae and correct data
than such organs as tfao Timu fornishes aa>
Hewever, the ezperienee of the last ftw
Tears giTea as ample peoof that even that
organ is not infallible, as it also proves that
the EagUsb people (if they are really repre-
sented by the preu) are not so distinguished
either for their reaeasch or moral conrage asi
their aatecedents woald lead us to suppose*
The cry that the " cooatry is in danger" haa
been systematically got np during the last
few years, and has as often been falsiBed, to
the infinite disgraoe aasd deserved shame of
its promoters; and, what is more remarkable,
this hubbab haa always arisen either when
the Chaooellor of the Eacheqaer had to re-
port a good stirplos, or when there was a de-
mand, on the other hand, on the part of the
nation, for an examinatioD into (with the
view of rt dneing) the enormoaa ezpenditnre
annually disbursed ^ the army sad navy.
This ^vrf fact is itself aa emphatic ea^stf
of the rtal intentions of tho abettors of war.
The innnmemble hoel of captauoa, admitah,
colonels, and generals, who are now in the:
receipt of large salaries and emolnroenta fw
doing nothing, are the real parties who pro-
mote the cry, and represent our position as
" defenoelesa." They say the ships of war
are all disabled, the coast walls dismantled
and out of repair, the chief ports and har-
boars inviting the enemy by their insecora
Goadition, very few thonsand men available
to esBceotrate npon any given placo i€
attacked, and the whole kinf^om not worth
a row of pine, should the French taomis asw
But !»thia really the case? for here the naval
and army aathoritiea are at loggerheads.
They know very well (and the preceding
representatbns on their part are only a stib-
terfage to avert it) that BMantfoas and grossi
extravagance prevaala in the whole system
from beginaiag to end, and that an impartial.
infestigatioR wiU iaevitably, and nrasi of
naeeasity, tenmaate in a eoBoplete xeoo»-
.stractsBD ef our warlike eatablisbraents^
Whibt there are so mmy sinecnres*— so>
many "^hig^," and " mighty," and ** nothing-
to-do** men— men laeeiving the pay of tho"
conntry, altbongk able to anj^ort then-
srives, being provided for by illastrious and
mrikb cQB]iexion% it it not noreasonahlo t»
416
JUDGING FROM TUB HISTORY AND PRKSEXT STATE OF FRAVCR,
suppose that, whenever there arises anj pro-
bability of our warlike expenses being cur-
tailed, they will, to save their own fate,
represent the kingdom as *' defenceless," and
at the mercy of the "invaders." And so
long as the English remain apathetic on this
question — so long as they are careless about
obtaining a correct knowledge of our real
position, and what position we should really
be in — so long will these literal ** blood-
suckers " of the nation continue to crave for
and to extort more nourishment from them
— so long will the people be punished for
their inattention. I am no advocate for
being insecure; but I do contend that we
ought to know when we are safe (and that
we shall never ascertain so long as we are
dependent upon the information which the
army and navy afford us), and then not to
alluw any farther addition in any way or
shape, come from whatever quarter the cry
of " insecurity" may.
The represented insecurity of the kingdom,
originating in the ^ clnbit," has been, it is to
be regretted, repeated by a portion of the
press. Placing too much confidence in the
fallacious statements emanating from the
Horse Guards and other quarters, these jour-
nalists have degraded their position, have
become contemptible in the eyes of the public,
and been justly admonished and censured
by their more discriminating and judicious
brethren of the pen. The Tinwa has placed
its influence at the service of the too ready
abettors of warlike establishments. Whether
its proprietors are in any manner connected
wirh the "men of the sword" is a matter
which, if it cannot be proved, may very rea-
sonably be inferred. Leader after leader was
sent forth every morning, which, whilst
ochoing the atrocious, because incorrect,
statements of the military and navy, poured
forth a torrent of invective, calumny, vilifi-
cation, and falsehood, upon the present ruler
ef France, and vrhich, had it been transposed,
-or written by the French press on our be-
loved Queen, would have been instantly con-
strued into, and insisted upon as nothing
lens than, a libel on the sovereign of this
<eoantry; as tending to excite revolutionary
principles; and, in fact, as nothing less than
an open declaration of war between Great Bri-
tain and France. And none would have been
more ready and eager to represent the case
M8 I lure g^yea it than ibe TimM* Hap-
pily, however (although the conduct of the
French Emperor was such as to deserve
severe comment and condemnation), the
Times was severely handled by politiciaiu
of all creeds, not excepting those who, Uke
that paper, had pertinaciously persevered iu
libelling I^uis Napoleon. After the tx^
sion of all these pseudo-representations had
passed away, proving the gullibility of mdk
of our journalists, parliament mot. L>rd
Derby, the then premier, said : — " My lord*,
I will say that I finnly beliere th.it the
French President, personally, is fully dis-
posed to entertain friendly relations, and to
maintain a pacific policy towards other
nations. But, my lords, I think that if anr-
thing could divert him from that course — if
he were a roan likely to be worked upon bj
his own personal feelings — if anything were
likely to divert him from that course of
policy which I believe his inclination and his
sense of the interests of France are likely to
make him take — it would be the injudicious,
and I may add unju8ti6able, laogua|;f
which has been made use of by a large por-
tion of the public press of this country upon
the character of the French government and
people. If, as in these days, the press aspirei
to exercise the influence of statesmen, the
press should remember that they are dk
free frum the corresponding responsibility of
statesmen ; and that it is incumbent oo them,
as a sacred duty, to nuuntain that tone of
moderation and respect, even in expressii^:
frankly their opinions on foreign affsins
which would be required of every man iriio
pretends to guide public opinion, and whick
is naturally expected from every man vk>
does not seek to inflict the most serious erils
upon his own country and others; ttnd J 90§
that it is more tfian imprvdeni, tk4Mt ii ii
more than injudicious^ ^iot it is tnore tAas
/ally —that it is perfect nuubtess —at ome ami
the same time to profess a belie/" in tks Aof-
tile intentions of a foreign cotmlry, and is
parade before them the supposed Mo&tli^ sf
this country to defend itself; to magmfy At
resources of your supposed assaUant, sii U
point out how easy would he the imfasian, if
not the subjugation, of this eomiUrjf (ihamfi,
thank God, the most violent keis net yet
spoken of subjugation) ; but to apeak ofAtt
invasion, accompanying it with details ^ftks
fearful amount of horror amd hkaJJ^tJ
which, under any n'rriiiwifaim, amti atttsi
IS AK ATTKMPTED INVASION OF KXGLAim PRODABLR ?
917
c/, *uul theiif in the tame breath, to anail
h-ith tcery term of obtoquy, of vitu]>eratUm,
and ahu9e^ the public and jn-irate chmncter
of the man who teields that force trhich t/ou
itny U irresistUfle, I am sore, my lordH, ti)at
xvhatever unfavourable impression may have
been made on the pnblic mind of France bj
the unjastiBable ccnsnres oTtbe public press,
that impression may be removed to a jc;rcat
extent by the frank expression of opinion
auch as you have now received in thid and
the other house of parliament; and certain
I am that, in makini; use of these expres-
siooa, I speak the opinion of every well- [
jndp^inji^ and well-meaning friend of his ,
country." i
Earl Grey also said: — " lie entirely agree<l
with him (Lord Derby) as to its bein|» the ;
duty of this country, as a country, and as a ;
nation — the duty of each indinJual, in his
individual capacity, to abstain from all in-
terference in the internal politics of that
p«at and powerful nation which is so very
near to us. He had, like the noble earl,
observed with the deepest concern — and he
might say, also, with the indignation which
the noble earl had expressed — the tone taken
by a large portion of the newspaper press of
this conntry. He thought that denunciations
ef the person at the head of the government
of France, coupled with those which the
nohle earl had justly said ircre not on^y
exagif^ntedj but tuUme^ reprfi^entatUnu of
the deftnuxlfst condition of thin country^ not
imfy savoured of tmprude.nce^ but of some-
thing trorae than impntdence ; and he re-
joiced that the noble earl, in the position he
occupied, had come forward to state, in the
emphatic manner he had done, his utter re-
pudiation of language such as that which he
had described.**
Lord John Russell said: — ^"'But I have
certainly to state further, because I confess
I have seen with very great re;;ret the lan-
guage which has been used by a portion of
the press of this country with respect to the
President of France. / remember something
as a boif, and I have read more, of that
vkieh occurred durinff the Peace of Amiens,
to render that peace of short duration, and
to involve these two great countries in the
moMt bloody hostiKties that ever mangled the
face of Europe, I believe that temperate
^ttrtiffffum and negotieUion 6ehreen the two
comUriet wnght heope prevented the calamity
of war ^ but that the language of the press at
that time icns such that it embittered all ne-
gotiation, and prevented the contlnwinee of
thu peace. Sir, I should deeply regret if
the press of this country, at the present
time, were to take a similar course
I am convinced of this, that there never was
a time in which it was more essential that
these two conntries should preserve the rela-
tions of peace and amity. I am convinced
that there never was a time when the peace
of Europe would contribute more to the course
of civilization and happiness. / am con-
vinced, likewise, from every source, of infor-
mation I hove fiad, that the. r^der of France y
the present Presideitt of France, is desirous
of h^eping on those terms of amity ; and it
shall not bf any fanlt of ours — it shall not
be any fault of the goremment of this coun-
try—if these tcnns of peace and amity are
not continutd. .... But really to see some
of the letters which ha t'e been published, and
to hear some of the language that has been
used, it would seem that these two great
nations, so wealthy, so civilized, so enlight'
ened. were going to butcher one another,
merely to see what would be the effect of
percussion shells and needle guns !"
The Earl of Aberdeen said, February 15,
1853: — "I am happy to assure the noblo
marquis that the best possible understanding
continues unbroken between the governments
of England and France ; nor w there anyUiing
that can apprar as in the least likely to en-
d(wi/pr or diminish the cordiality of that
understanding.''
And finally comes Mr. Disraeli, with the
following emphatic declaration : — " I know
there are persons in l>oth countries — persons
who have been born, and lived, probably,
during the last great strugirle — who are of
opinion that there is a natural hostility
between the French an«l the En.';:li>h nations.
They are persons who may, probably, be
placed in the same category of individuals
with those who think, or used to think, that
five per cent, was the natural rate of in-
terest 1 know that it is in vain to
appeal to persons influenced by such a con-
viction on any of those economical consider-
ations which are often mentioned at the
present day. I know it is in vain to im-
press upon them that, in an age favourable
to indiistry, ancient and highly civilised
communities are diverted from the thought
±\9
JUDOIXO FnOM THB HISTORY AND PRESEST STATE OP FRAJTCB,
•f war. I know it is in rain to appeal to
the higher impulses of that philanthropy
which many of ua belie%'e in, in sach com-
mnnities, in societies under sach conditions of
pvat antiquity and advanced civilization, for
mitigating the heart of nations. But, sir, 1
THE SLIGHTEST WARNOIO, OB PKBYIOUS
CAUSE OP QUARBEL."
The preceding extracts (for ths length d
which I must apologize) go to establish tkrtt
distinct hctSy all of which relate, in a griater
or less degree, to the subject before as.
think I have a ri^ht to appeal to stem facts, First, that the most unjust aocusatioiB sad
which cannot be disputed — to the past con- \'irulent charges have been broogfat by the
duct of men, which, according to the theories press against the Emperor of France; fle>
of these individnals, is the best test of what
their future behaviour will be; and I must
say that I do not think the history of the
past justifies that too prevalent opinion, that
between England and France there is a na-
tural rivalry and hostility And, if
condly, that the preceding and present p^-
vemmcnts were of opinion that the best pos-
sible amity and concord have existed and (k»
exist between this country and France; aad.
thirdly, that there was nothing which was io
the least calculated to disturb that friendlv
we take that which is the real point of our feeling which was reciprocated between the
modern history as the one which should two governments. But whilst this is tbe
guide us upon this subject, we shall observe case (and may it erer remain so!), it
that the most rapacious soverei^jns, and the
Biost eminent statesmen of Englttnd, almost
without an exception, have held that the
French alliance, or a cordial understanding
with the French nation, should be the comer-
stone of our diplomatic system, and the key-
note of our foreign policy And,
therefore, it b not trae that there have been
lit all times, or at most times, this want of
sympathy between the French and the Eng-
lish people ; but, on the contrary, the reverse
is the trath, and the alliance and good un-
derstanding that have prevailed between us
have been the source, in my opinion, of great
advantage to both countries, and of advance
to the civilization of modem Europe
It is extremely difficult for us to form an
opinion upon French politics; and so long as
the French people are exact in their com-
mercial transactions, and friendly in their
political relations, it is just as well that we
should not interfere with the management of
their domest ic conoems During the
period we occupied office nothing occurred
to interrupt that cordial unden>tanding with
France which had been bequeathed to us 'by
onr predecessors; and there were several
occasions upon which that cordial under-
standing came to our aid to maintain peace,
to advance civilization, and to promote the
general welfare of mankind
KbMEMBKB, sib, THAT ALL THIS TIME,
WHILE FbaWCB was WORKING WITH TOU
FOB THE COMMON WEAL OF HUMANITT,
BBR BVLER WAS HELD VP AS A CO^«SX\B
but be evident to all who read the
papers, that attempts are being made to
arouse that rivalry, national prrjudice, and
hostility which, unfortunately, once dwrae-
terized the two kingdoms. As in the bat
French war, which was provoked and en-
tirely originated in the obetinacj and head-
long stupidity of the then goremroent of dut
kingdom, as BIr. Cobden has ahown in bis
pamphlet entitled ** 1793 and 1853" re-
course is now being bad to the moat shvffliag
pretexts, as well as to the most gnavikM
assertions, that could poasibly be had. I
give one or two extracts on the last wv
between the two countries. Speaking of the
efforts that were made to create • psnk is
the public mind, I/Ord Lauderdale, at a Islff
period, observed : — " But is there a man ■
England ignorant that the meet wicked arts
have been practised to irritate aad mishad
the multitude ? Have not handbills, wntchid
songs, infamous p<imphlets, false anddsb-
matory paragraphs in newspapers, becB dr*
eulated with the greatest assiduity, all tend-
ing to rouse the indignation of this cooBtiy
against France, with whom it has been lisg
determined, I fear, to go to war? To wtA
low artifices are these mercenaries rednsri.
that they have both the folly aad andacity
to proclaim that the New Ktct water !■»
been poisoned with arsenic bj French oois-
saries." And Mr. Cobdea saya:— **IiCt mt
repeat it — if for the doscnth time— saeh m
opinion would never be pat forth, aiilwi ky
writers and speakers who prmuno iB«t '
AHp A BAHDIT, WHO WAS ABOUT FBAcn-\ wA>:va?y3 xvyax SX» v^MMnaee of the palfc
n AH ATTKXPTED IKTASIOir OF BSOLAVD PBOBABLB?
Sl»
part J, whether they oould do a hetter service
to their caoM than by giving popular lectnree
opoD the actual state of the population of
Fimoe. And let them not forg<;t, when
dealing with thia invasion cry, how the
people were told, m 1792, that the French
were coining to burn the Tower, and put
arsenic in the New Biver to poison the me-
tropolis, at the very moment when, aa ire
hww now, the French ambassador was
humbly entreating our government not to
go to war. Ifay not the historian of sixty
yean hence have a similar account to give
of the stories now put forth respecting the
intentions of the French people?" And, in
a speech in favour of peace, Mr. Wilberforce
said: — "With r^ard to the probable conse-
quences of pursuing the war, he considered
them to be in their nature uncertain. Here-
tofore U might jwtly be taid to be carried
on in order to prevent the progress of
TremSi principles ; but now there was much
more danger of their being strengthened by
a general discontent, arising from a continu-
ance of the war, than from any importation
of the principles themselves from France.*'
Coming down to our own day, we find the
same deceptive arts practised. Mr. Bright,
M.P. for Manchester, in a speech delivered
in that city, said : — " You may have' seen
another paragraph the other day, stating
that the French government offered an order
for six steam-frigates to the very eminent
shipbuilders of Glasgow, the Napiers, and
that our government, that the firm might
not lose by refusing the order, had at once
given it an order for six ships of an equal
cost for the service of the English govern-
ment. Do you believe it? I took the trouble
to make special inquiiy in the quarter where
it must be known whether the information
was true, and I found that there is not one
syllable of truth in that paragraph.'^
Enough for the present In a future
article I will lay still farther before my
readers the hollow and sophistical nature of
the ** cry.* I shall then direct my attention
more particularly to the subject under debate.
What has been advanced is, strictly speaking,
qnite in order with the question at issue.
Thers ia nothing worth noticing in the article
of J. C. If C, Jun., except it be his horror
ofPopmy, What that has to do with l4u
question I know not. We had quite sufficient
under that head in m farmer article from
the same pen, and no one will wish to be
subjected to another edition of the same.
Meanwhile there remains plenty to be done,
amply sufficient, without being frightened by
reports of war, and ** rumours of war," frai»
the Horse Guards. Let our national in-
structors, teachers, beads of oolkges, tuton^
and, above all, our mothers, devjte their
attention to the proper feeling which they
ought to entertain towards France. Th«
i^iog generation is but badly taught respect^
ing their neighbours. No sooner can they
talk but they are told that the French are
their enemies — that they have a " grudge "
against us — that they must "wipe out" th»
"Nile," "Trafalgar," and "Waterloo.- On
their slates they are taught to represent the
English and French in an engagement.
When older they develop their pu^nasti*
propensities more physically by joining ia
combat with boys of their own age and sise.
Such is the training they have received. 1%
is thus early, before reflection, common sense,
and judgment have become developed, that
warlike animosities are instilled into th«r
minds. Bather let our instructors commenoe
afresh, by teaching the young that "GoA
hath made of one blood aU kindreds of the
earth." Let them be taught that they hav*
feelings akin to our own— that they and we
also are children of the same God — that the
same heavenly Father watches over,cherishea,
and cares for all — that he knows no distinc-
tions—that we arealike subject to the same
feelings, passions, and pleasures — are in
search of the same object, happmess — re-
solved in cultivating commerce, the arte,
sciences, good feeling, brotherly love, kindred
affection, and attachment for each other—
that we deplore war, as injurious to nation
as well as to individuals — that it eats up
prosperity, promotes rivalry, animosity, and
hatred, retards civilization, and brings bc^
gary and disgrace. With such sentiments
as these jealousy will cease, rivalry will be
no more, contests which once disfigured our
national history (and of which we were prin-
cipally the abettors) will be forgotten, and
nothing will be more productive of harmony
and good feeling, and more opposed to and
preventive of ftuther discord, than the real^
cation of the fact that the interests of both
nations have,
** like kindred drops, bctn mingled into one."
J. G. R.
520
JUDOIXO FROM TIIK IIIRTORY AND PRCSEMT STATK OF FBANCK,
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
In entering upon any controversy it is very
desirable for each disputant not only to avoid
all extraneous considerations, but also to
9tate as clearly as possible the exact nature
of the propositions which he intends to
maintain. So great is the imperfection of
humun language, that it is scarcely possible
id put a topic of debate into the form of a
simple question without using a generality
of expression seriously endangering the in-
terests of truth.* In the question before us
some diiHculty arises from the excessive
▼agueness and latitude of meaning which
attaches to the word "probable,** For my
own part, mathematical recollections lead me
always to think of " probability" as a variable
fraction, lying between 0 and 1 ; and I ciin-
not but regret that the phrase as to the ex-
pediency of the "governmental precautions"
has been struck out of the question, since I
think it might have aifordcd a sort of inca-
sure of probahU'ittfy instead of leaving it, as
as present, to the varying tastes of individual
disputants.
Upon a careful consideration of the subject-
matter of the present debate, I can scarcely
think that it is intended to open these pages
to a series of articles on the purely specu-
lative question, *' 117// a war with France
probably occur?" Such a question would,
in my humble opinion, be wholly useless,
since we know that it is neither within the
province nor power of reason to draw back
the veil of futurity; and, consequently, the
formal discussion of this point would only
sink those who engage therein from the noble
position of truth-seeking controversialists
into what my opponent, " Rolla," has aptly
termed "grandiloquent prophets.** Admit-
ting, however, that a war may take place, it
becomes a question of the deepest interest to
• Perlmps I may bo allowed, in illustration of
ray remarks, to refer to n late debate in tbeive
pi^4i (Uiat on the Sabbath question, see p. 133),
where a writer claims " a uHanimout verdict" ou
the very illofncal ground that hii> opponents have
not mamtained on nnqualijird affirmative ! Now,
since truth, like safety, is generally to be found
lyin/; Iietweeu the two extremes of unuualilied
fliBmialiun and negation, I hope that each writer
in the pn?spnt dehnte will be content to support his
own views, or to oppose bin antagonists', without
reqiiirinif them to vote black or white, as demanded
by the wj-iter to whom we have just alluded.
every lover of his country to inquire into tl»
mode in irhlch it would probabfy mamfut
itself- — what points are most likely to be firat
attacked? No wise man spends bis time in
endeavouring to settle the probability of asr
given misfortune befalling him, yet sio
thoughtful person omits to consider in what
manner and from what source such a mis-
fortune may arise. We do not speculate on
the probability of a burglar's visit to oor
homes. We know that he may come, a&l
we simply consider how he would pn^ably
attempt to get in, and take the necessary
precautions to prevent his entrance. In ac-
cordance, therefore, with these consideratioitt,
I shall endeavour, first, to prove that an
attempted invasion of this country by Fnum
is highly probable, in case of a vxir betwen
the two countries; and, secondly, to show
that there are serious grottnds for the ap-
prehension that a war may suddenly break
out.
I. When war is resolved upon, the first
question which occupies the govemmoits of
the concluding nations naturally and neces-
sarily is, "Where shall we commence hos-
tilities?" To this question the natural as-
swer is, " In the heart of the enemy's ooontrr,
where every blow will tell, and where the
expense and burden of our armies will, in a
great measure, be transferred to our oppo-
nents." This plan is essentially the Gallic
mode of procedure. To make the war sip*
port itself, to subsist and pay his troops hj
plunder, were the avowed maxims and actoal
practice of Napoleon. It must at firat sthkf
every one with surprise that France, aft<r
the protracted struggles of the last and pit-
sent centuries, should exhibit a national debt
80 vastly inferior in amount to that of Eng-
land; but when we turn to the recoidsof
history tlie cause of this discrepancy u it
once explained. We paid our own troopi.
subsidized our allies, and fought on fneo%
or neutral ground, where everything wu t*
be bought and paid for; while Napokoe
marched on from victory to victoiy, «•-
quered nations, and subdued half EorqK^ *t
a virtual cost of life only. Blinded by nuii-
tary glory, France was willing to send ftrth
army after army to be destroyed beneath tka
imperial standards. Life was almost tbe
n AH ATTKMPTED I3n'ASION OF KKOLAMD PBOBABLB ?
231
ml J treasure she spent — the only treasure
^we believe) which she would have consented
:o spend in so profuse a manner! Twice
iras England threatened with invasion, to be
xmducted by Napoleon himself; and, had he
lot been inextricably entangled in continental
quarrels, that threat would not have been in
raiii. Arc we to suppose, then, that France
wifl (oTf^et her ancient policy — that her
irmj will despise the maxims and example
3f their idolized chief — that the new-fledged
Emperor will, in this one item, refuse to copy
ilia chosen model?
I now turn to the evidence of history.
The first appearance of our beloVed country
on the stage of reco<;nised history is connected
irith invtuUm by the Korean armies, and yVom
fAe coasts of France. Again and again was
invasion successful, until Britain became a
conquered province of the Bomnn empire.
A few centuries after the dominion of Kng-
bmd passed into the hands o^ Saxon invaders,
and tht:y in their turn were invaded, harassed,
and conquered by the Iktnes. Scarcely hod
these various nations begun to coalesce, than
the Normans invaded the country and es-
tablished their power; and at the present
day our beloved Sovereign signifies her assent '
to acts of parliament in the Xorman French
of her invading ancestor, William I. From ■
the date of the Conquest the reciprocal his-
tory of England and France, for some cen-
turies, is little else than an interminable
record of invasion and counter-invasion.
Hay we specify a few instances. In 1209
we find that no less than 1,700 vessels were
iBsembled at Boulogne, and the invasion was
inly bought off by one of the most disgraceful
>f all possible means — by bribing the Pope
to forbid it. In 1216 Prince Louis, son of
Philip II. of France, landed at Sandwich,
vock. Rochester, and ravaged the country
ilmost at will, failing only in his sieges of
Oovtr and Windsor Castles ; so that England
leemed doomed to become a mere appanage
yi the French crown, until a defeat, suffered
under the walls of Lincoln, compelled the
inTaderB to evacuate the country in the
ronuner of 1217. In 1293 Dover was burnt,
and Kent laid waste, by French troops. In
1369 Southampton was plundered; and a
few years previoosly Brighton, Hastings,
Plymouth, Portsmonth, and the Isle of Wight,
were pillaged. In 1457 Sandwich was sacked.
KidiArd 11. lost his crown and life by a suc-
cessful invasion on the part of the banished
Duke of Hereford, afterwards Henry lY.
Scarcely had Edward IV. established himaelf
on the throne than Margaret of Anjon, as-
sisted with troops and money by Louis XL
of France, landed once more to renew the
wars of the Koses. Even Spain ventured t»
attempt an invasion, in despite of the courage
of Elizabeth ; and of its result we can only
say, with her, " Aftiavit Deus et dissipantnr
enimici." Not two hundred years since the
Dutch insulted us in the Channel, and
burned our ships of war at Chatham. Wil-
liam III. owed his crown to successful inva-
sion ; and the ex-King James was landed in
Ireland by one French fleet, while another
brought him 3,000 men, engaged an English
fleet, captured seven Dutch vessels, and re-
turned to Brest in twelve days. Need we
refer to the attempted invasions of 1708,
1715, 1744, &c., in behalf of the Pretender,
or to the elaborate plans formed by the cele-
brated Choiscul during the "seven year^
war"? In 179G a fleet was prepared at
Brest, and actuaUtf sailed for Ireland, during
the progress of negotiations, and five days
before our ambassador icas dismissed from
Paris. In Jidi/, 1797, wo were again treat-
ing for peace; but in October **The army of
England" was formed on the French coast,
and waiting for General Bonaparte, to whom
the command was assigned. In 1798 the
French troops landed in Ireland, and held
Cdstlebar for some time. Lastly, we were
threatened by the gigantic plan commenced
at Boulogne. Two thousand three hundred
and sixty-five vessels were crowded into the
harbours of Boulogne, to transport to these
shores a force outnumbering the whole Bri-
tish army at home and abroad ; they arrived
at that port in detachments, eluding the
utmost vigilance of the English fleet on their
passage, and defying the most desperate
attempts to destroy them when assembled
What can be done in the way of invasion is
shown by the invasion of Holland in 1799,
the bombardments of Copenha;;en in 1801
and 1807, the expedition to the Scheldt in
1809, the capture of Washington in 18 14, &c
Such are the premises which history
affords us of judging of the probability of
invasion. Let the reader decide. Perhaps,
however, some may object that the above
remarks would apply almoet as well in sdjk
porting the probability of the invasion of
^a
JUDGIVO FROX TUB lUSTOBT AHD PBttEHT SZATB Or WTLABCm,
France by England. I reply, first, that
tke body of thie English people would not
eoBsent to an aggressive war with France,
Mul without their consent neither the court
DOT parliament could engage in war ; in
France the people hare not the power to
cbeoec for themselrea. Second, the English
are not so sensitive of national honour as the
French, and have no rankling recollections
tf humiliated pride. Third, England is more
liable to injury from invasion than France.
Paris is not situate on a highway of natitms,
l&ke London ; nor, like the latter, within two
days' march of the coast: Cherbourg is de-
ehtfed impregnable — a propobition which
<aiuaot be predicated of any EngliAh port.
The sack of Dunkirk would not compensate
for the pillage of Southampton, nor the cap-
ture of Dieppe for the bombardment of
Liverpool.
II. 1 hope I have succeeded in satisfying
ihe reader that an attempt to invade this
country would most probably occur in the
event of a war with France; I bhall now
proceed to point out some serious grounds
Cor apprehending that war may speedily and
suddenly come to paiss. I believe the present
feeling of the bulk of the French nation is in
iavour of peace; but when we consider the
fitter flicklencss and headlong enthusiasm of
their national character, the hopes which
this belief would inspire quickly vanish.
They seem to regard politics as a kind of
national theatricals. The more frequently
the scenes are shifted, the more novel and
outrageous the feats performed, the warmer
their applause. They will exult round the
■cafibld uf a king, or pray round the bones of
a despotic emperor, with equal fervour. They
once adopted atheihm, they now prop papacy
oa its thnine. I turn, then, to consider the '■
imperial actor, who now " fills his brief
liour ' upon the stage where their united
sufirages have placed him. On him depends '
the question of peace or war; while his hour j
hats the^ will follow his lead, and applaud ;
liis acts. j
Is the character of the present Emperor
soch, then, as can inspire confidence? May
we judge him by the company he keeps?
There is General St. Annand, who was twice
expelled from the army, who acted under an |
assumed name at a petty theatre in Paris, •
mho has repeatedly been imprisoned for j
debt, nod who ia Bsid to V».xe itcid^tii
£20,000 down on the apot on
2nd of December, 1851; this
gambler is now marshal of France, senatv
of the empire, and vunisttr of war! At
a worthy ^brother" in iniquity and imm»>
rality, the spendthrift traitsr, ^*g"ir, kii
been likewise dubbed wrR>>^l and arnakv,
and elevated to the poet of ooninDuuader4ii-
chief of Paris. Goodly specimens then!
M. de la Gu^rouni^re, the' paid ■cribe of the
Emperor, informs us that the ^ Presideat'
broke his oath to the conatitudon becaoie
" his conscience liberated him, and his mis-
sion irresistibly hurried him on;"* that **to
obey his destiny, to follow his star, are the
dictates of his duty.** AnJ again, that '^hk
star led him to Boulogne.*' May not his
" star" lead him to invade England? Coo-
science cannot withhold him, for it sancdoDs
midnight perjury. Common sense, self-
interettt, reason, cannot dissuade the nuuuac
who attempted to overthrow the monarchy of
France by the ridiculous attempta at Stns-
burg and Boulogne. Hitherto we have
seen that he almost always acts in direct
opposition to his words. He svoire to the
constitution, uid overthrew it at midnight:
he sought a royal alliance, and married a
plebeian! He derives his title by dctctot,
and terms himself a "parvenu." And he
(the man who in one night incarcerated a
refractory parliament and deluged thettretU
of Paris with blood) had the audacity to tcil
the ignoble deputation of London citiseas
that he admired English liberty ! Can aoj
one trust this perjured hypocrite, when ht
professes to desire a lasting peace with £i^-
land? Can we even hupe that in this «tt
case, be will forget his star, deny his misiHS,
cast aside his nnodel, and fa&hion his act* ic
accordance with his words? " True it ii
that England has everything to fear bm
the Emperor," is the ingennoos admisMia of
our opponent *' Kolla"!
Both friends and foes rrprescnt Loai
Napoleon as a blind believer in £ate. If tha
representation be cwrect, we may dispcBM
with the consideration of hia pogitiom; bat
since " BoUa ' has baaed all his reasooiiy oa
the assumption that Looia Kapoleon will act
(like tlio majority of human beiiiga) with a
due regard to the circumstsDcas in which he
is placed, I feel bound to cxaniiiie thia tafic
Now, are we to suppose that Fraaet will
VaaaiTely bear the yoke kid mpon kcr If hit
n AM JLTnauTED unrAnoif of uiaTjiirD pbobablb?
Inptrial Hajcrty Napolaon IlL?— Uiat the
oust nsUcn lad rtrolutioDarj nation on
«nrth will qnietlj mbinit to the most nncoa-
tnilled de^potisin ? He haa deluded, deceived,
aad oppreaaed iha people; cajoled the clergy;
bcitod the annj; tabooed the press of France ;
tif^l the tongae ^ her orators; cortailed even
tha amosemcnta of the peoplei. lie gorems
tke natioa bj decree, the commanes hj
police, and Paris by soldiery. Ue gambles
frith the national credit, and regulates the
monoy market by edicts. His throne stands
Alone; raised by treachery, surrounded by
hatred, and planted on a Tolcaoo. Thos far,
ht has pleased the bulk of the people by in-
fisatile shows, by reviews in the Champ de
Mart, waterworks at Vernailles, f&tes at the
Tnileriea, balb and banquets in the provinces.
There yet remains the coronation and the
pomp of empire; but when that is passed,
he must tax his ingenuity for new moans of
diverting popular attention. I)are he remain
at peace, and give France time to con;»ider
her position? According to Mr. Cobden, loe
went to war with France, in 1793, to'stave
off political reform ; and if that be the case,
Um nsove postponed reform for nearly forty
years! Will Louis Napoleon hesitate to re-
pent the successful manceuvre which Mr.
Cohden has so elaborately and kindly ex-
plained fur bis beneiit? He has played a
desperate game, lie stsked his all on the
saccess of the coup d ctat, and won ; he has
one more stake left, and that is tear. Why
should he hesitate ? The example of his
great predecessor points the way ; if success
fkil him, the result cannot be worse than the
f%XM of his chosen exemplar.
Let me now turn to examine the opposing
arguments of "Holla" on this head. The
firat argument is, that the Emperor '* has not
the sympathy of the great men of France."
Itow, may we ask whether ^ the great men
of France" are so very pugnacious, that their
^iftsence will tend to keep the peace f Would
Lnmartine be likely to recommend war, — or
Cnvaignae to propose a treacherous attempt
on our shores? It is amusing to read this
part of '*Rolla*s" article. In one place we
lind that the Emperor dared to " trample on
the genhis of the nation** — in another place,
that this ill used genius ** stands aloof" and
^ works unseen in the heart of the fallen
" We are asked, *« Where are the
i noble charmcters" of France? and
are told that they are *< in exile;** that they
**have retired" to ''work unseen," and to
find homes and kingdoms *' in the heart of
the nation;" and, lastly, that^they are not
**to be found" surrounding the Emperor I
Is this incoherent talk intended as rsoson-
mfff
The arguments to be drawn from con-
sidering the emperors position with regard
to the people, I have already endeavoured to
prove to be in favour of my own side of the
question. When the balk of the nation are
resolved on his downfall, they will doubtless
find means to accomplish it ; but let no one
Hstter himself that tiiey will do this for our
sake. It appears to me perfectly outrageous
to suppose that those who acquiesced in the
comp d itat^ which deprived them of Metr
oira liberties, would rise in rebellion against
■n invasion of our rights.
** Kolla's" remarks on the relations of the
present Emperor to the army and the priests
are strange indeed. Napoleon B<HDaparte
has nothing to do with the question, any
more than Lord Byron's poetry and the
Polish officer who are dragged into the dis-
cussion to prove what I presume no one ever
ventured to deny — the attachment of the
French army to the person of their great
chief. Then we find that the present Em-
peror is ** the slave, the tool, and flatterer of
his army" — that the army " only obeys when
, it is to obtain its own ends;" and yet we
read of " the base system of intimidation to
which the army was subject" ! Can any one
construct an argument out of these flat con-
tradictions? As to the priests, we are sum-
marily informed that any power gained from
them "would forsake" and *' must ruin" —
a line of argument convenient to the writer,
but scarcely convincing to the reader.
•* Lastly,** says "iColla,** ** though the Em-
peror would not regard the cause of liberty,
his people would **! What can one make of
this paradoxical idea, that the people who
submit to the tyranny of ** a dependent and
powerless despot** would not permit of any
infringement of English liberty ? In what
way does oratory ** addressed to a British
audience on the threatened invas'on by Na-
poleon /." disprove the probability of an
mvasion by Napoleon III.? What does the
concluding poetry prove? I venture to sug-
gest an improved reading, which I conceive
will approach much nearer the truth—
224 18 THB USB OF OATHS FOR CIVIL PURPOSES RIOBT AMD KZFKDnaCT?
France hath o/t in vain been taught
The moral lesson, &c.
"Other argnments there are" — praj, then,
good friend, let us hear them; those ivhich
have heen adduced are by no means *^ suffi-
cient for your purpose! "
A few words on the remarkable doctrine
as to the proper system of studying history,
propounded at the commencement of my
oppiment's article. We are informed — " The
character of all nations is original, and we
can answer no question in the history of any
nation without first learning the character
of its people." Now really this seems quite
a new idea; I always imagined that the
character of a nation was to be learnt from
its history, and not vice versa. But let
that pass; whence are we to leum the cha-
racter of the French ? We find three authori-
ties— Jamet) Comwell, Ph.D., Julius Caisar,
and *' Bolla." As the worthy Dr. merely in-
forms us that the French are not Franks,
we will abide by the verdict of the other
two. The French, then, are among "the
most warlike nations of the earth" (Cscsar);
" they are unwearied in inilitary device and
stratagem" and "fanatical under the idea
of national renown" (" RoUa")! Such is the
character which we are ever " to bear in
mind," when discusbing the probability of
an invasion by the French of the very country
which unfortunately has been most SDCCWsfiil
in humiliatiog the idol of their fiutatidsni!
By what means *' Rolla" is enabled to draw
the consoling assurance of peace from this
ominous picture, I know not: it is almost
sufficient to overcome my own natural anti-
pathy to gunpowder, and to indnce me to
join "the Boyal Victoria Rifles." "BoUt"
speaks of the " revolution'* ofl815asa** fear-
ful manifestation of the democratic eleme&i
overwhelming the monarchic power which
it had created.'' Will he be kind enough, in
his reply, to inform us how and where this
revolutionary "manifestation" occurred?
A;:^in, we are told that Caesar and Napdeon
" fell through the violation of the power they
had gained;" Byron being introduced as an
historical (!) authority. Now Cassar was
assassinated before he became emperor; and
Napoleon was conquered eleven years ofte/
assuming that dignity, having in the mean
time overrun and dictated terms to all tbe
nations of continental Europe ; — where, thco,
is the parallel ? In what way Napoleoos
" violation of the power he had gained" ctfi-
tributed to the success of Wellington <m tie
plains of Waterloo, I am at a loss to cooceiTe.
I really fear that " BollaV new plan of study-
ing history is not productive of sound con-
clusions. . B. S.
Inrinl (Ernunniif.
IS THE USE OF OATHS FOR CIVIL PURPOSES RIGHT AND EXPEDIEXT ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— n.
At the outset of our discussion of this
question we must define, first, what an oath
is, wherein it differs from a declaration only,
and what better guarantee it professes to
give fur the truth of evidence. We shall
then inquire, secondly, if the use of oaths is
consistent with the obligation man is under
always to speak the truth, or with the cha-
racter of God's moral government of man-
kind;— if, thirdly, they really prove an
efficient means for realizing their object; —
and, fourthly, what influence the customary
imposition of them bos upon society?
FJrat. An oalh is a promise, made either
tivd voce or in writing, to speak the troth
on the occasion upon which it is made, or to
do certain things at a future time, in ooa-
firmatiou of which the person swearing ap-
peals to the Supreme Being, ^ invoking lus
vengeance or renouncing his favour " if tht
truth be not spoken, or the things proouMd
be not faithfully performed. He is held to
believe that the Deity will in that cate
! inflict a punishment, either in this life or ia
the next, or in both, which be would nrt
have inflicted had the engagement been madt
without such appeal to him. An affinnatiaa
is simply the same promise made witlicci
It TBB USB OF OATHS FOB CIVIL PURPOSES BIGHT AMD EZFBDIBRT P 32&
this sppMl to God, and is held to be made
under the fear of the loss of character, and
of the l^al ponbhmeut which would result
from discovery of the breach of the promise
only. In fact, in this one particular — the
fiuth in, and the fear of, a specific punish-
ment for specific falsehood, or, as in this
case it is called, perjury — the peculiarity of
an oath consists, and its p;rcater efiicacy for
the discovery of truth is comprised.
Secondly. Now, the obligation to speak
truth is universal, without limitation as to
person, time, or circumstance. The oath is
so clearly a ceremony adverhe to this obliga-
tion— inasmuch as it proceeds upon the idea
that under certain circumstances a greater
obligation is placed upon witnesses by its
use than would attach to them in ordinary
times — as not to need demonstration. In-
deed, the custom of judicial swearing could
never have attained its present hold on our
civil policy had it not, by habitual uso in
ageft of ignorance and superstition, been in-
terwoven with every part of the system, in
both its political and judicial branches.
As the Deity takes equal cognizance of all
human speech and conduct, his estimate of
truth or untruth cannot be varied by any of
the ceremonies or circumstances that may
attend the declaration of it; nor, therefore,
can special punishment follow particular
deviations from it, at the will of the person
making oath. Ilence the inconsistency of
the oath with the character of his moral
government of man.
Thirdly. But it is possible that, whilst no
one vrill attempt to justify the uso of oaths
on abstract grounds, it may be held that
many, when swearing to an oath, believe in
the direct punishment of perjury, and that
St is expedient to retain them to deter that
class of witnesses from the crime. This opinion
is untenable; for the oath does not prevent
the deposition to untruth by witnesses of
bad character; nor, on the other hand, does
the substitution of a declaration lessen ju-
dicial belief in the evidence of those of an
opposite character. The frequency of the
enforcement of the laws against perjury is
an indisputable proof of its failure to ensui*e
the veracity of those whose predisposition or
interests are opposed to the discovery of
truth. Its trifling value is manifest in many
cases not resulting in prosecutions. Recently
it has been made more spparcnt in conse-
quence of the courts of law being empowered
to take the evidence of persons, whether
plaintiffs or defendants, in their own causes,
in civil actions. In these cases the personal
interest is strongest, and offers the greatest
temptation to deviate from truth; and fre-
quently the depositions of the two parties,
made with the same professed faith in and
fear of Gods anger if truth be not spoken,
are directly opposed to each other, not in
spirit only, but in regard to facts. In such
cases neither judge nor jury seek, in this
faith or fear of the witness, for the test of his
accuracy ; but endeavour to find, in a know-
ledge of the uprightness and integrity of his
ordinary life, or otherwise, a clue to the truth
or falseho<»d of his sworn testimony. On the
other hand, (Quakers and Moravians, and
persons who have been either, but, having
ceased to be such, retain a conscientious
objection to taking an oath, are exempt from-
the necessity of doing so, and their affirma-
tion is received instead. These sects form
part of that class to whom the apprehension
of divine punii>hment in a future state acts
as the strongest motive for abstaining from
wrong doing. Having so keen a sense of
their accountability to God for their con-
duct in this life, they are those to whom,
if the oath were indeed of value, it should be
first administered. Every sanction of it
would apply to them, and it would guarantee
from them, if from any, the utterance of the
simple truth. And why are they exempt?
Their objection, it is well known, is founded
upon supposed scriptural prohibition; but
far other reasons Induced the legislature to-
relieve them from the necessity of compliance
with the usual form, the greatest of which
was, that their conduct had shown that jus-
tice would not suffer by their exemption.
These privileged classes hod given grounds
for the belief that they acted under a sense
of the imperative duty ahoc^s to adhere to
the truth ; and with them no greater strength
could be given to an assertion by an appeal
to the Deity. Another exemption of a more
extraordinary description also supports my
position. Peers of the realm and corpora-
tions are permitted, in proceedings in the
Court of Chancery, to give answers — the
first upou'their honour, tbe last under their
corporate seal. The fear of the loss of honour
is substituted for the fear of divine vengeance
in the case of a peer; and in the other men,
"SK n THX USB OF OATBB FOB CSYIL rUBFOSKS BIQBT AXU
iH&o m tbeir individiial character are required
to attest their evidence by an oath, are
•oxenpted when united with others, equally
liable indiTidoally, in the discharge of paUic
daties.
These exemptions show that where, from
-character or position, witnesses are believed
to have another motive for speaking the
truth, the oath may be dispensed with; and
that it is only insisted upon either where no
sufficient objection is felt to induce refusal,
<ar where a superstition as to its efiect is en-
tertained.
Fonrthly. The evil efiect of the habitual
mse of oaths in courts of justice is, I think,
serious, and difficult to remove. The fonu
•«f the oath requires belief in certain theo-
logical opinions to give competency to wit-
nesses, and therefore disqualities persons who
are not unworthy of credence, and at times
obstructs the course of justice. Every per-
son who offers himself tx> give evidence may
be interrogated as to his belief iu the exist-
ence of a God, in a future state of rewards
and punishments, and of the punishment of
peijury in that state. Those who cannot
feply in the affirmative are incompetent to
bear testimony. Children, also, who are
supposed incspable of comprehending the
meaning of them, are excluded. In both of
these coses there is a possibility of injustice
being inflicted, or of a failure to convict the
guilty. This arises from the inadaptability
of the oath to judicial purposes. In a state
where the civil system is framed professedly to
give to every citizen a power to assert rights
and a rem»ly against wrongs, the basis of
evidence should be as wide as the stability of
society will allow. The principle that is
nearest the foundation of society is, that it
is incumbent on man to speak truth and do
Justice in all his communications and deal-
ings with his fellows, and the profession of a
belief that he is bound to adhere to it is all
that should be required as preliminary to
examination. The only essential qualifica-
tion of a witness is worthiness of belief; and
men who disbelieve the opinioDS I haef bmb-
tiooed as required to reader evidence capable
of reception, or vary fnno the receaved stand-
ard in the mode io which they bold them,
and children thought too young to nnderstsad
them, generally possess it. The evil of this
disqualification is not an imaginary eoe.
The rejection of the testimony of ehikkcB,
when doing so defeats the ends of justiee, ii
not unfrequent; and a case has occurred in
which a witness expressed doubt only upon
the necessary points of faith, and was rejectei
in consequence, though no aspersion could
be cast upon the integrity of hia character.
Farther. The practice of judicial swearii^
weakens the public sense of the duty of
veracity when unsworn, and so has a tea-
dency to deprave the morals of the comma-
nity. It is an inevitable result of giving ts
an action in one place a greater force ^si
in another, to reduce its effect in ordinsiy
cases. The imprecation of divine anger,
from being sanctioned by judicial us^,
becomes, on the other hand, a part of com-
mon speech to a certain class of society. It
is used by tbem sometimes for deoeptioo;
ofteoer, perlmps, in mere prodigality i pn-
testation; and familiarity with it, nnaeoom-
panied with the expeiience of evil resoltisf
from the breach of assertiona nude moia
the sanction of it, deadens the feeling wliidi
alone can give it effective strength, ud tbu
weakens its holi! u]ion a witness when he ii
formally sworn.
I have thus endeavoured to indicate tbi
most prominent considerations that seen ts
me to afford satibfactory grounda for deDrisic
that the use of oaths for civil pnrpooei M
either right or expedient. Perhaps so im-
portunity may offer for more fully enfimflf
my views during the progress of the diicas-
sion ; and, if that should be the case, I ^ftU
gladly avail myself of it; for I thii^ tht
subject is not one of theory only, bat involtv
practical questions, deserving of the senflU
attention both of moral and political ic-
formers. JS.IX
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— H.
Thb taking of an oath — which, rightly
regarded, ia a purely religious act^ and per-
haps the most solemn a man can be called to
perform — having degenerated into mere court
btuineOf and lost much of its solemnity and
effect from the idle formality with whidi it
ia generally administered, we are not sir-
prised that it should bare baoome a qostifl
among thinking and seriooe bmb, wbetkr
this much-abused custom ia not pnjodictsl,
n nn ms or oatbs pob gxtil pukihmss biqbt akd
t tf7
nther tluB othcrwue, to the interests of
■Qcioty, mcl, eoneeqiiently, whether it be
naiXij A diviiie iDstitaUon.
In CDdeftyooring to let thii subject in its
proper li|E;ht, we will, first, consider the tme
BAtnre of en oath; then its consist encj with
tho spirit and precepts of Christianity; and,
afterwards, its bearing npon the interests of
•ocietj.
The familiar definition of an oath —
namelj, the calling npon God to witness the
trath of a statement — is, to most, as clear
and comprehensire as is ordinarily needed ;
bat on an occasion snch as this we had better
attempt an soalysis. This solemn act, then,
implies that the person who performs has
rdigioos convictions — that he believes in the
existence of a God — in his moral government
•f the worid, and that he is responsible to
that God for the trath of his testimony.
Those who require him to swear are supposed
to give him credit for these convictions, and
ta believe that he is actuated by them. Yet
kikowing, by experience and observati<Hi, the
frmilty of human nature, they are prone to
distrust hb veracity, and believe it safest to
hear him speak, in matters involving their
osm interests, under an acknowledged sense
«f his nooral obligation to God. Accordingly,
this acknowledgment takes a solemn form of
expression, calculated to satittfy his distrust-
ful antagonist ; showing that he is fully con-
ackms of the solemn position in which his
testimony places him in relation to his
supreme Judge— that so conscious is he of
rectitude, that he vcduntarily places before
bis own eyes, in the strongebt possible light,
the strong«'St motives to spc^k the truth,
haaging his eternal interests upon his own
word, and not fearing to look up in the face
of Omniscience with the truth npon his lips.
All this is implied in the taking of an
4iath ; and this act is thus shown to be one
which a conscientious man (mly can rightly
perform. It is a test of the highest integrity
ef character. Hence it cannot be derogatory
to, bat in perfect consistency with, the chris-
tian character; and, if so, it must be con-
sstent with that which is the root of chris-
tiao character, namely, Christianity.
Bat it has been urged that this practice
is opposed to scripture and the spirit of
Christianity. Oar opponent £. W. S., how-
ever, admits that ** this practice was in har-
BDooj with the religioa oif the Jews;" fur no
doubt he haa fboad, ia the Old Testament,
abondant proof that it was nnctiooed by the
example, and regnlated by the precepts, of
the most distinguished servants of God ; and,
also, that it had a most important infloeace
upon many events in the history of those
times. But £. W. & says, m his next son-
tence, "Our endeavonr will be to show that
the use of oaths for civil purposes is not in
harmony with scripture, and, consequently,
with the spirit of Christianity." Here, of
course, be confines himself to New Testament
scripture. Accordingly, we find he comes
immediately to the well-known passage on
oaths in Christ's sermon <ni the mount.
"This,'' he says, "is the highest possible
evidence, and as such demands our earnest
and candid consideration." We will, there-
fore, endeavour to give it an earnest and
candid consideration, and view it in all its
bearings.
Christ in this unparalleled sermon, after
assuring his hearers that he was not come
to destroy the law, but to fulfil it, calls par-
ticular attention to certain points of the law
which had been grossly abused, and shows
that in these abuses the law had been either
mihapplied, or altogether evaded; he there-
fore first quotes the law, and then points out
the kind of sbuse to which it has been sab-
jected, showing that this abuse had weakoied
its influence and made it of no efiect.
Ue takes, first, the law which forbids
murder, and shows that, while they flattered
themselves that they were guiltless of an
open violation of this law, they had been
accustomed to cherish all these vindictive
feelings towards each other to which this
. crime owed its existence, and to which the
- law, in its spirit, was equally opposed.
Taking, next, the law which forbids
adultery, he shows that although they flat-
tered themselves upon their purity, yet they
had granted themselves the liberty to indulge
m all kinds of lasciviousness, only stopping
short of the grosser sin, to which they snp-
poeed, or wished to believe, the denunciatbns
of the law were confined.
Then, coming to the law which forbids
perjury, he ahows that their loose and profane
manner of trifling with oaths — swearing by
heaven, by the earth, by Jerusalem, ai^ by
their heads, in cases wherein they need not
swear at all — in their ordinary communion-
tiona with each other, when ''yea'* or "nay"
228 18 TUB USB OF OATHS FOR CIVIL PI7BP08E8 RIOIIT AMD EXPEDIBST ?
was quite sufficient — was fraught with evil,
inasmuch as it led them to treat lightly the
things pertaining to God. He further de-
signed to show them that — as they had chosen
these forms of swearing to avoid the direct
profanation of God's sacred name, and, pro-
bably, to escape the obligations of an oath —
these objects (heaven, earth, Jerusalem, and
the head) were more nearly related to God
than they seemed to be, and hence became
more binding than they thought. They
were not to swear by heaven, for it was God's
throne; nor by the earth, for it was his foot-
stool; neither by Jerusalem, for it was the
city of the great King; nor by tlicir heads,
for they could not make one hair black nor
white ; because, as he told them on another
occasion (Matt, xxiii. 21, 22), what, it ap-
pears, they were not fully aware of, " Whoso
shall swear by the temple, swearcth by it,
and by him that dwcUcth therein. And he
that shall swear by heaven, sweareth by the
throne of God, and by him that sitteth there-
on." Therefore, using these as objects of
appeal in familiar conversation, they were as
solemnly sworn, and as liable to the guilt of
perjury, as if they had used the name of God
himself.
Hence we believe it was not Christ's in-
tention, in this passage, to set aside the use
of oaths in courts of law; but to deprecate
the dangerous practice, into which the Jews
had fallen, of swearing in their ordinary in-
tercourse, when it was wholly unnecessary.
Had he intended to forbid the taking of
an oath in a court of justice, would he not
have been more pointed and explicit? It is
not to be supposed that the oaths he here
forbids were those used in courts of law.
'* I adjure thee by the living God, that thou
tell us whether thou be the Christ, the
Son of God,** was the judicial form of oath
which the high priest put to this divine
Teacher, when arraigned before him in a
court of law, and to which he did not refuse
to respond.
Having thus endeavoured to prove that
the taking of an oath is not forbidden in
scripture, and that it is not inconsistent with
the spirit of Christianity, we will now at-
tempt, further, to show its purposes, and its
bearings upon the interests of society.
When we reflect upon the degeneracy of
society in all ages, the deceit and falsehood
wlijch bsLve tarnished the dca\m^s of men^
and the fatal effects of base propensiticsi
upon all human interests, we do not wonder
that men should have been accustomed to
regard each other with suspicion, and that
they should have been unwilling to trust their
interests into each other*s hands, without, at
the same time, obtaining for their safe kc«p.
ing every available security. Accordingly,
when the life, reputation, liberty, or sob-
stance of one man has been endangered by
the testimony of another, it h.is been natui^
enough, and by no means unfair on the part
of the accused, to demand from his accuser
not only a true testimony, but, beyond thtn.
some satbfactory pledge of his veracilr.
Now, in such a case, what pledge can vf
suppose him to give? He cannot open h»
bosom and reveid his thoughts to the eyes d
his opponent ; he can only appeal to One wi>i
can read them, whose eye can search thi*
dark recesses of his soul, and with whom h^
has a far greater interest at stake, an in-
tei-est as much affected by the truth of his
testimony as that of the accused. This
pledge is calculated to answer the tvofdd
purpose intended — a powerful motive to
speak the truth, and a satisfactonr pleiH
that he will yield to its influence, becasw,
in case of his giving a false testimony, he
has involved himself in a more terriUe
responsibility than if he had spoken an onli-
nary lie. An ordinary lie would be a dami-
ing sin ; but the act of calling God to vitnos
the lie would heighten its heinonsnes.% tad
consequently deepen his damnation.
Such is the purpose which an oath » ia-
tended to serve; and, by serving to teem
the ends of justice, it therefore becomes sd
indispensable element in its adniinistratno.
and a valuable preservative of the intenBts
of society. It is not, then, an evil, but a
good. But, alas! all the good in this dis-
ordered world is at the mercy of wicked mnt
All that is sacred in religion have tbiv
abused to further the basest ends. Hcux
we find there arc those who do not scropk
to confirm falsehood with an oath. Tet, an
we to annihilate that which is good anl
beneficial to society to prevent its abine?
Is it for us to abolish the prmctiee of rdigioo
because hypocrites use it as a ckak for na?
No more are we to abolish oatha becuse bsd
men peijure themselves. Perjnij, bovrro'.
we have reason to believe, it Dot so extrt-
sively practised as to weaken materiaDy tkt
RKPOBTB OF MUTUAL IMPROVSMEXT 80CUETIES.
229.
▼alae of an oath. Few, very few, of thoee
who imdersUnd the nature of an oath are
hardy enough to perjure themselves under
that full and immediate sense of their re-
sponsibilitj which it is calculated to awaken ;
and there are, we believe, still fewer excep-
tions to the rule, that they who do not fully
understand the nature of an oath are as
much awed by its mysterious solemnity, and
feel themselves as strongly bound to speak
the truth as those who do: a sense of its
solemnity coming directly upon their feel-
ings, rather than upon the intellect, it is the
more likely to influence their conduct.
In conclusion, this institution is a standing
memorial of our depravity, and a witness
against us. It arose from our imperfections,
and with them it must cease. We have
reason, however, to hope that, should intel-
ligence and religion maintain the ratio of
their present progress in the world, socie^
may yet attain to the high int^rity of that
respected class of Christians to whom oar
opposing friend has referred, and whose
consistency has won for them an hon-
ourable exemption from this legal badge of
infirmity.
Birmingham^ J. F.
€\}t Inrittits' Irrtinu.
KEPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
]l£ancheiter. — Elm-»trttt Mutual Improve-
tment Society .^On Friday evening, March 4,lHo3,
the third aouual meetint; of this society was held
in the " Elm-atreet Snbbath School for Cliildren
of all Denominations," on which occasion about
sixty of the members and IHends partook of tea.
Alter tea Mr. John Kelly, tlie senior conductor of
the school, waa unanimously voted to the chair.
Mr. John Dunkrrley, secretary to the society,
read the report, fh>m which it appeared that during
the past year thirty-three meetings had been held,
thirteen essays had been read, and twenty im-
portant questions on various subjects had been
ciiaciused. The report also stated that tlie society
liad determined in future to divide different
branches of study into a number of sequential
sections, on which an essay will be read, followed
by discussion. — Mr. W. H. Tattersall, in moving
the adoption of the report, dwelt at considerable
lennrth on the objects of the society .—The adoption
of the report w^ seconded by Mr. J. T. Stone,
who read a very talented paper on " Intellectual
Progress," and in clear and forcible language
showed that mutual improvement societies are
highly promotive of this progress. — Tlie resolu-
tio0, being put to the meeting, was carried unani-
mooaly. — The Chturman, in an interesting speech,
commented on various parts of the report in a
manner very encouraging to the society. — Mr.
Thompson made a few remarks on '* Sociality ; "
and Mr. Firth followed in an address on " Friend-
ship."— Mr. Consterdiue, one of the conductors
ofUie school, waa the next speaker, and expressed
himself as highly pleased witli the report and the
meeting. — Mr. Hewiu followed, and recommended
Che study of logic as of great importance, and
ciBertd many useful and practical remarks. — The
meetini; then acyoumed to partake of the dessert;
after which If r. Turrer, a conductor of the school,
and Mr. Halhun, addressed the meeting. — Mr.
Nickson, the chairman of the society, then fol-
lowed <m " Great Men." He >aid that the death
of the Duke of Wellington had given occasion for
the voeubnlary of praise to be almost exhausted
by persons who had written on the life and actions
oi" the late illustrious Duke; it was therefore im-
portant, and might prove interesting, to determine
what constitutes greatness. The time, however,
only allowed the speaker to dwell upon what
greatness is not. — Mr. Mellor read an excellent
paper on " The Secret of Success— Joseph aa an
Example." — Mr. Tamwell spoke on " Character,"
Mr. Taylor read a short pa|>er on ** Duty," and
Mr. Walch made an interesung speedi on ** The
Influence of the Age on the Characters of Toung
Men." — Ader a few words IVom Mr. John Hewitt,
a vote of thanks was presented to the chairman. —
Mr. Kelly, in reply, thanked the meeting, and in
his usual earnest and affectionate manner called
upon the members not to lose sight of the claims
of religion, and the advantages of piety in the
pursuit of knowledge. — C. N.
AUrinrhnm Zet^tlc Society was established
October, li^i2, and now numbers about thlrU*
meml>ers. In consequence of a misimderstand-
ing on the part of some of the inhabitants of the
town with respect to the objects of the society,
the members hHve printed their constitution and
rules, and boldly say, " Any person still thinking
that our con<^titution is based upon error, the
society will esteem it a favour if that person will
come forward and endeavour to prove it to be so
based : the society pledges to change that consti*
tution if such be proved." This is the best course
which could bo adopted for stilling the tongue
of slander.
Wolverhampton Mutual Improvement Society
was established in the early part of last year, and
from a very humble commencement haa pro-
gressed to its present stale of prosperity. Popu-
lar questions are debated weekly, prize Tolomea
(to which are appended certiflcatea of merit) are
given monthly for the best essajra ; and a more
valuable prize is presented quarterly for the beat
puem on some given subject.
The following questions hare already been
discussed:-** Which waa the Greatest Patriot,
S30
REPORTS OF XUTUAL IMPROVmBZIT 80CIKTUBS.
Bnwe or Wallaoe?" " Is Woman MenUdly In.
fcrior to Man 7" "Which was the most AmbU
tiotts Man, Cardinal Wolsey or Napoleon Bona-
pute?" **l8 a Republican Govemment more
eondiicive to the Happiness and Prosperity uf a
Nation than a Monarchial One 7" "Can the
Actor be a Moral Man, according to the Present
State or the British SUfre 7 " ** Are barbarous
Nations as Happy as Civilized Ones ? " *' Onght
the Jews to be Admitted to tbe British Parlifu
ment 7 " " Will Literature, Science, and the Fine
Arts, be as ProgrestsiTc under a Mouarcliy as a
I>anocracy 7 "
Prizes have been given to Mr. J. H. Farmer,
lor an Essay on the " Force of Habit ;" to Mr. K.
Stevens, for one on •• Nuture and Art ; " to Mr. G.
Hughcii, on the " Difficulties that Beset the Paths
of Genius ; " Mr. G. Higham, on " Fiction ; " Mr.
W. A. Green, ou " The Kisc and Progrcis of the
United States."
The only successful poet is Mr. G. Cooper, who
produced a piece, possessing; great originality, ou
that hackneyed theme, the " Creation."
On the 27tli of January la«»t tlus society held
its first anniversary, over which Mr. T. J. Dorara
presided ; Mr. W. A. Green occupying the vico-
chair. In hour or so after supper the company
partook " of that cup which ciieers yet not in-
abriates." Oaring the evening a numbar of
■taodard toasts were lirunk, and mosio and reci-
tations were introduced. — G. H.
Coichetter Meckamca' Iiuiituie.'^On Friday
avcning, March 4, \S&i, a lecture was delivered,
by Mr. G. R. Coleman, to a large niunbcr of the
members and friends of the discussi-in class
(amongst whom was an unusually large atten-
dance of ladies) upon '* Tbe Application of Co«l
Gas for Illuminating, Culinary, Heating, Cha-
mieal, and Manufacturing Purposes." Mr. Payne
ooeapied the chair. The lecture embodied a large
amount of practical information on a subject
which comes home to the houses of many. In
addition to lurid diagrams displayed by ^e leo-
tnrer, his topic was illustrated by a complete
working model of a gas manufactory. AAer
giving a complete history of the manufaetiuw oi
coal gas, Mr. Coleman experimentally illustrated
the different kinds ol light which have been sub-
mitted to public regard since the introduction of
that gas, viz., the Beale, the Bude or Gumey
light, the Dnuumoud and Electric lights, itc.
Perhi4>s the most interesting part of the lecturer's
discourse, and which met with the applause of all
present, was the introduction of a very excellent
gas c«>oking apparatus, in which was performed
the whole process of cooking mutton and other
chops, which were pwtakeu of by the audience
with a zest not often witnessed. We must not
forget to mention that various parts of the lecture
were illustratiHl by several well-performed che-
mical experiments ; after which, ironing by gas and
roasting oolAe were explained, with several other
important matters connected with the application
of c^»al gas ; and, in conclodiug his lecture, Mr.
Coleman observed that. In ondcrmkingthe delivery
of these lectures, he was animai»d chiefly by a
wish to increase their iatereu in the sulgect, and
to ezeita in them a desire to stody that important
sflfenee ; and if he shonld sooeeed in that, his aim
would be accomplishad, and he should be aatia>
B91L On the motion of Mr. Charlaa Bewers, a
man for his interesting and inatroctive laetare,
which was carried by acclamaiinn — F. H. T.
Law Student*' Societie$. — A correspondent has
sent us a copy of the rules of the Rotkermm (York-
shire) L*io iiiludefttn' ^oci^fy, wid aaka to hare
them reviewed and commented npon. Boles are
dry materials for tho reviewing process, and law a
dangerous subject to comment uiKm ; but so Ar
as a notirif of these rain maj be of scrt iet Is
other similar societies, they readily comomnd oar
attention and space. This we prtsuma to be sQ
our corrcspoudeut would desire.
The rules are sixteen in nunber, and are ex-
plicity drawn. Nos. 1 , 3, U, and 4, stnto the nam
of the society, and that the members ahnll be of
two classes,— Milicitors and attorneys for bonorsiy
members, articled clerks ami other law scndenis
(before examination) for ordinary meniUis;^
members may be expelled on the vote of two thirds
of those present ut any meeting ; — honorary vam-
ber's payment to be one Kuinea, in ^ope of as
entrance fee; other members, 3s. 6d. entraaor
fee, and Is. montlily.
Nos. 5 arid 6 provide for weekly meetings, " (br
the purpose of discussring legul and juri^pruden-
tifd qufstiono;" also fur annual lueeting, $oA
election of officers thereat; — temporary varandes
to be filled up ut weekly meetiugs.
Nos. 7.K,and 9, provide that orxlinaryi
shall be fined Od. for absence, and tbe
Is. ; — fourteen days' notice to be given otuaf i
tion; — president in rotation to supply quesliaa
for the next discosaion, or fbrfbit 6d.
Nos. 10, 11. and 13,— no member to speak fcr
more than half an hour (!), and only ewe* in Nch
debate, except opener, who may rrply ;— the |a»
sident to decide the question at end of detaK ;
also all matters of order, 6cc., and enter refoitif
debato in a book, with the authorities dMi
(Phonography is a desideratum.)
Nos. 13, 14, and 15, — after three months' wmm
members expclleil, unless explauaiion folknri^-
necessary expenses to he allowed to scoftay;
and three months' notice, or tfarea months* h^
scription, given, or paid, on a member wiihiiae
iug.
No. IC,— that the society take in tkt **!«
Students' Ma^xinc " and ** Quarterly Law iU^
xine," and such other works as maf be diW^
mined.
We presume the Controvenialisi is
the memliers individually, as a matler of <
and therefore did not require to be nan
can only sav, further, that these rulea saoi w
well adapted to the purpoaes o( the aockO', *
such societies are adapted to the wants of Iv
students.
Tewkeibury Meekamiet' Inttitmtion.-^'naft h-
stitotion was commenced in 1848, with fbortM
members. It was intended that it ahould be w^
ported by the subscriptions of tlie members orif :
but the committee soon fbvnd that the sphcnsf
its influence was too contracted for such a f^
oiple to be carried oat, and that tlie mb ipse «■(*
opet expectations of its first supporters eooU art
be realixed without cxtraaeoaa aaajafaea. Thr
committee, thereftHrs, in IMO, diiaiaincd to "pat
their hands to the plough;** aad aftn* MMBk »
hour, and by the help of Hbeial donatoa,
enabled to procure suitable
the members, and to fbrm a Ilbraorj and
^takinf aa their preoedent tta**0rHll
HEPORT8 OF MUTUAL IMPROTSMEST SOCIETIES.
sat
of 1861." The commUtoe determined to attempt
» local *' Exbibiiion," by obtaining the loan of
attractive objects of antiquity and art from the gen-
try of the town and neighbourhood. IiTttiis they
were sQcceesful^ and the Exhibition opened in the
town hall. In connexion with it, lectures, con-
oerti, diawlTing views, &e., were announoed for
two erenin^, and were very largely attended.
Sfaioe this exhibition, the success of whicb
litonished the promoters tfaeroselves, donations
of money, books, and addidons to the museum
have poured in, Lord Sudeley headingttie lists
whh tb/e munificent donation of £50. The insti-
tution now boasts of au interesting library — up-
wards of 900 volumes, a well-fumished reading-
room, supplied with two daily and fire weekly
papers and various periodicals, and a lecture-
room for discussions on Friday evening*.
Among the questions that have been discussed
this season are Uie following: — "The Character
of Cromwell ;" «* Will Parliament be justified in
sanctioning the Opening of the Crystal Palace on
Sandays?" '* Which Season of the Tear u most
productive of Sociality, Summer or Winter?"
** Which most deserves the Admiration of his
Country, Bums or Telford?" "Transportation
or Nontransportation?" "Was Joan of Arc an
Impostor?" "Is Bribery to any extent Justifi-
•ble?*' " Ought Capital Punishments to be Abol-
ished?** " Cssar or Napoleon, which the Greater
Man?"
At the last quarterly meeting, the treasurer's
account showed a balance of £33 in fisvour of the
institntion.
Such Is the short sketch of the history of this
institution, and I hope at a fViture date to be
eiiid>led to report stili greater progress.— A Mkm-
Bbb.
Maneheiter. — AUSnintt Mtrtual Twftrovtment
SoeUty.— The first annual coffee party of this
aodety was held on Thivsday evening, the SSlli of
April. About seventy persons were present. After
a very a^ropriate address fh>m the president,
Mr. Robt. Thomhin, the secretary, Mr. Thos. H.
Bope, reati the report, by which it appeared that
the Bocie^ consulted of twenty-three members
end three honorary members ; ttte meetings bving
held weekly ; and that during the year thirteen
essays had been read and dtsOTSsed. A paper on
"Mutual Impravement S<»cietles and their Ad-
vantagea," was then read by Mr. Unwin ; after
whieh the oompany was addressed by the Rer.
Br. Burton, tlie treasurer; Mr. Denton, Mr.
Heatheote, aaad Mr. Andeison, delegates ttom the
Cavendlsh-sCreet and 6rosvenor-aquare Mutual
Improvement Sedetiea, and by several of the
members.
Bdinburfh Temptramet Muimat Imprmfememt
A$»oeiati&n. — ^Tbe fourth anniversary soiree of
this aaeochttion was held on tbe evening of
Thursday, the 14th of April, in Mr. Boehanah's
CoffMbouse, Bigh-atreet, when a large number
of the membera and their Mends sal down to tea.
After tea, the chairman, Mr. Wilkes, delivered an
eloquent address, in which he spoke of the im-
portance of having fixed principles, and the ne-
cessity of cultivating and improving the intellec-
tual and moral faculties. The report of the past
year was read by the secretary, and gave a mdst
cheering account of the past progress and present
Knpecta of the association. Addresses were de-
end during the evening on the fbllowing sub-
jects, viz.: — ^* Means of Mental Improvement;**
" Social Advancement of the Working Classes ; **
" Perseverance necessary to Improvement." A
number of recitations, songs, glees, See., were in^
terspersed with the speeches, and contributed
greatly to the enjoyment of the meeting.— Jam ks.
ronton of Mutual Imprrrvtmrnt SodetieB,
Edinburgh. — A soiree, consisting of the members
of the Edinburgh Temperance Mutual Improve-
ment Association, the Edinburgh Young Moi's
Assoctation, the Kelson Anociauon, and the Con-
troversialist Society, was held in Edinburgh, en
the evening of the 37th of April last. The chair
was occupied by Mr. T. Usher. The ehainnais
addressed the meeting on the propriety and advan-
tages of a union between the four societies, with
any others that might join it Addresses were
afterwards delivered by Mr. M* Jarrow, on " Know-
ledge;" Mr. Fyle, on ** Self-Culture ;" Mr. Gil-
bertson, on "Education;'* Mr. Wilson, on "The
Age we Live in ;" Mr. Hardie, on " The Advantages
of Mutual Improvement Societies ;" Mr. Thomas,,
on " Eloquence;" and Mr. M'LMn. on " Friend-
ship." Several recitations and songs were giveA
in the course of the evening. The number present
was considerable, and me whole proceedinga
passed off to the satisfbdion of the parties pra-
sent As it is very seldom that so many mutual
improvement sodeties unite in this friendly
way, this desire for union should be hailed as a
cheering sign of progress. The societies contem-
plate a union of a permanent ebwraeter for the
purpose of promoting their oobubou interests,
and a course of tfiree or four lectures is to be-
delivered under die auspices of the union in the
month of May.
It is trusted that tha finrmation of a onion in
Edtnburph may be considered as a good example
to the memben of mutual improvement societies
in other towns. We have noble objects in view,.
and to promote these it is important that we should
give and obttin all the help poasible. Such so*
cieties have too long been isolated (hnn others of a
similar tdiaraeter: an unfkiendly rivalry has thna
been kepi in existence ; and, above all,the strenfjtti
and importance of mutual improvement aocietica
have not been aufficiently felt. By means oi a
union, however, auch aoeieties would be able^
while maintainittg their individual ezistenee and
independence, to have lectures delivfred, and to
carry on other operations whidi they oould not do
separately vrith nmeh chance of success. Let oa-
hope tfiat many aoEh unions may be formed and
prosper.
^ I* Opinkm is wken the Mnnt of tiM undentanding is so &r gaioed by evidenoe of proba^-
bilit;f, that it rather incHnea to one opimon tlian to another, yet not altt^ther without a
oiizture of uocertaintj." — Zimmtrmaih,
C32
THE INQUIRER.
€Ijt Sttijttm
QUESTIONS REQUIRING ANSWERS, i
159. Perhaps some of your scientific correspon-
dents would please to fumith, for insertion in
your useful journal, a cheap mode of making
a camera obscura fit for taking sun pictures or
Talbotypes.— J. D. B.
100. I should feel much obli^red to any of your
numerous readers who would inform me,throuKh
the pages of your excellent magazine, how I could
prepare pbotogenetio paper, suitable for taking
landscapes by the camera obscura ; also, if such
paper may be bought, and what is the price of it.
— J. H.
161. Will any of your correspondents inform
me what book or books I ought to read to obtain
A knowledge of the law, &c., relating to merchants
nnd ship-brokers ? I can have access to Kussell
on " Factors and Brokers," 1844 ; Smith's <' Cm-
pendium of Mercantile Law," lt$)4 ; and Wil-
Jdnson's " Law of Shippiug," 1843 ; but I am
afraid that since the above dates there may have
been material alterations in the law and practice,
or that there may have been some better books pub-
lished.—B. X.
162. Can any of your readers inform me who
Chief Justice Marshall and Alexander Hamilton
(noticed in Todd's " Students Guide," chap, iii.,
section entitled " Expect to become familiar with
Hani Study") were; and also give me a good
reference for applying for their speeches at any
Jibrary ?— Eff.
16;). Will some of your readers have the good-
ness to inform me, m the next number of the
British Contnjvrrtialiit, who is the author of
Ihe following lines 7 —
" Be thou like the first apostles ;
Be thou like heroic Paul ;
If thou hast a truth to utter,
Speak it boldly — speak it all.
Fear no enemies — accusers :
Fear not prison, scourge, or rod ;
All the truths thou hast to utter
Speak — and leave the rest to God."
G. P.
164. I have a great wish to acquire a smooth
and beautiful utterance ; but at present I havt^ a
very harsh and ungrooeAiI manner of expressing
my thoughts. I am told that my ideas are cor-
rectly conceived, but that my word* are uncoutli
Jind discordant. Thus. I sai'i to a friend, " Rainy
weather makes the roads very rough." He an-
swered, more pleasingly, ** Yes ; the rain, though
useful, is ol^en unpleasant." I have found that
persons are este«fmed and loved, and have in-
fluence and power of impression in company,
more on account of sweetness of voice than
strenfftli of intellect. All listen with pleasure to
a delightrul diction, and feel a deep nitorest in
those who possess so powerful a means of fasci-
nation. It has long been my study to excel in
this accomplishment: but I have hiiherto failed ;
more, perhaps, from defective methods of instruc-
tion, than fVom insurmountable obstacles in ray
mental constitution. I shall feel deeply obliged
if any of your intelligent correspondents will
'uggeat some practical plaa (^u Vkie T«a4\ut^ of
particular works, Sec.) by which they think I may
attain a more harmonious expression. — K. F. F.
165. There are two individuals, real litenrj
men, with very difTerent opinions relative to the
sun. One of the two gentlrmen affirms thattbe
sun is an opaque body, having liviug beiuiCi i^toa
it; that the luminous body which we see, and
which affords us light, is lihe sun's atmosphere;
and Uiat the sensation of heat which is fell is
produced by the action of the above atmospberr
ui>on the latent caloric of the bodies of aniiuids.
The other gentleman alluded to believes that
after matter was created in its chaotic slate, Goi
so acted upon it as to divide the heterogeneoos
mass to its simples, so that the fiery and load
particles ascended (being lighter than the nti),
and which moved about tiie expanse for two dap,
alter which God condensed it, and, casting it iots
a proper orb, placed it at a oonveuient distaoor
from the earth and other planets, insomuch that
it became a sun. The former of the two gcstlS'
men believes the sun to be an opaque bo-ly.wliile
the latter believes it to be a body not on &re, M
a body o/'fire. Perhaps some of your oOTtvspuo-
denta will be kind enough to state whieJk «rf tk
two hypotheses they consider to be mo»t pltik>>
sophic. — R. S.
166. Since the appearance of the criticisms ofMO
the Greek Testaments of Alfoni and BlocnnftHd,
in Vol. III. of the Contrwtrnialitt^ Alford bss
published another volume of his work, in wbkh,
I am told, he departs very much from the fUn
pursued in the first volume. Also, it seems, disl
A 1 ford's is to be in three volumes instfead of tvo.
Cnn any of your reailers inform me of the ostoiv
of the changes in Vol. II., and whether thejr br
consiilercd improvements ? Is the same do<m»
taught in the two, or do they differ in auythia(<if
consequence ? Also what is known of the sulbsr
generally, and hb religiouK opinions 7 W. C.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
1 43. ^otc to obtain Ease and Power in DtUH.
— " Rolls '* congratulates the readers of the Bn-
tisk Controversialist that B. S. has entered tkr
arena of debate, and not left him ( ^ RoUa")tkBff
to solitary fame on so great a subject. If** Wk'
— if even B. S.— has failed to furnish **TiiDsa*
with a philosophic answer to his inquiry, wctntft
the true answer will be elicited, errn khoof^ it to
from the ruins of either or both theories. B.S.I
after taking up the one Idea to which ** RoDs'i'
remarks tended, comes to Uie same happy c«adi>
sion — ^that " Timon ' may " abjure denpav.** Tk
former part of his reply is an echo to the mwritd
part of '* RoUa's.*^ Still we would remind loa
that in all debates the efiiect of the **eavak7
charge" is infinitely superior to thai of "the
heavy artillery," to use his own figure, wUeh i*
not one of the most expressive. It was the prMi
slung by the shepherd-hero that laid low Ibf
mighty Philistine, not the mi|ht of the amies «f
the Lord of Hosts ! Powerfu as oar nwdera
Hume, with his vast political reaonrscs, <•. ^
could never achieve the victories wbidi Sir S-
Peel or B. Disraeli won by their ** Mlli«rtei««bT
THS DTQUIRKR.
233
ehargr." Bot to the poiot. After peru»ing and
TC^peruvhig the negatiTe pert of B. S.'s reply, we
have be^n gradually led to reftard it as a piece of
dognuUasm, in which neiUier the true nature of
the inquiry itMir ia brought to ligbt, or the pre-
nriaee and relatiTe features of our annwer justly
dealt with — in which Uie very prefniwes oi that
reply are lost sight of, and tije CDnclusiuns de-
duceid thenffhim made to appear as cunlu^ed as
oar friend's logic itself. We will be explicit.
B. S. says, witii much atsurance, " Above all, l«-t
me nrgte ' Timon ' to pursue the vcrv opposite
course to tliat recommended by ' KuUa ' in his
retnarks on analyns an>l itynthenia. VLovr so
able a currespimdent as 'Kulla' can ha^re fallen
into so qrave an error puzzles me (!) exceedingly,"
&e. lion oMne* omnia pv»tumu*. I'tiis is* one
of that number. Why 7 ** Thvre are mure things
in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your
philoHophy." Now, in order eiUier to conlinn or
explode a yivm theory, according to inductive
philo«opiiy, it is rvquin-d that we exandue the
premises un which it stunds, and Jirxt prove Uial
they are erroneous. This B. S. hns nut even
attempted: but has actually given a coitcluMion
«a tboutth he had. Induction ban to do witb/ar<«,
not mere dovmatic and nrbiirary conclusions.
Indiirtive pliilosophy teaches to explode a theory
by tc-Rting the premises on which it ri'iits. But
B. S. lakeH suppositions tor /acts, and auempti> to
?nove our theory Jaise by a rice versa jirooess.
his will acctiunt for the ** grave errur ' into
wliieh he ha» fallen, leauiiig him to the supposi-
tion ^ tliat the printer had transposed the words
* analytical ' and ' synthetical,' and had Uius made
' Rolla' hay tlie veiy opposite of what he meant."
ThL* i:* about as Kood a compliment to our phito-
■opbic coiijecturcr as it is to tlie cumposttor. J'o
the honour or the latter, and to tlie confusion ol
the fonner, we affirm tiiat ttie comfiosittir s accii-
rmej is uryustly <|UChtioned. The words a]ipi or
i'oat a^ tlify wrre m our manuscript. Let us see
low B. S. comes to this strange suppo»itif»n.
It i» reyardlesa of the very premises on which
our throry ua* based, and from uhtchourcon-
ciauiOMS. and Hltimately our advice, was ffiven.
Our readers will remember tliat we first imced
the lack of eane and power in debate to a radical
eanae — *' a d*/*-ctive tnental tuition:" secondly,
we i*howe<l in what that deiipct consisted, viz., tlie
eullivaiitin of the syntlielical faculty to the neglect
of tlie analytical (acuity ; therefore we said, " cul-
tiTSte now Uie analytical fiKulty." These were
tbe prf iiiises on which we founded our tlieoiy,
■od on thfse it still stands intact Is it not the
height of ilogmatism to deny a conclusion witlioiit
Urst explo«ling the prini:lplet on which it titands ?
This B. 8. has dune, with the gi-eatest assurance
that be is right and ** Rolla" wrong— dangerously
tmmff. B. 8. seems to have considered our ad-
'viee to *' Tlmon" as based on no facu at all ; ei-yo,
open tu piiint-blank contradiction, unpremeditated
it may be, but without doubt " ba.si:Iess as tlie
fabric of a vision." This, however, was a great
error, as we havejustahowu by repeaiuigUie |>re-
Buare un which our theory stands. Tiiis will
•bow to any of our readers that our theory remains
hitaec brneatb the broad agiaof truth, ourcoii-
cbiaioiia just, and our advioe worthy of attention
•od nBtpect on the part of ** Timon. " or any other
Inquirer on tte ao^fcet Let, then, our theory
wmI ita prcmini, owr conclusions and advice, be
kept in mind while perusing B. S.'s reply and
pretended refutation, and we doubt not but that the
unsound nature of his argument, and its abaord
application to the point at issue, will appear tH-
dent. The drift of his advice to ''Timon" raaa
thus, for he accidentally admits the premises of
our theory in the first part of bis reply : — " If yon
have been hitherto solely cultivating Uie synthetie
faculty in preparing speeches, e-«says, articlea,
works of fit tion, idealism, Jcc, and ftiid yourself
still in the sarae dilemma, i. e., without ' ease and
power in debate.' let me, abore all, urge you to
imrsuo the very op])osite course to that recom-
meiideil by ' Holla.' ' He tells you to " revert the
order of your iiitellectual auiiun," ihut by so doinc
Tou nmy bring into action poKer untried, ano
leave uo /acuity dormant. I say learn lo syn-
thesize still ; the aiiiilytical exercise rou may
leave, that im sure to be riuht ; f:o on compiling
and pi-odiicing. It is a Li^^her art to build than
to unbuild; t:i otablish a truth is a higher
achievement than to detect a falsehood." This is
the advice whicli B. 8. oflei^ to ** Timon," the
following out of which is to give him ea.<ie and
power ill debute. Had he baid disappointment
and despair instead, he had, we tliink, been much
nearer Uie truth. '* 'I'imon " is to go on cultivating
his mind in a given habitude ^s)ntheHi.s). that he
may acquire power in that which requires aince
veisa habitude (nnalysis). He is to leain to im-
build by building St: 11 -to reproduce by producing
still: 111 fact, to detect falsehoods by siroplj
establishing truths ! This is tlie apex of B. b.'t
" gieut ar^llnlenL" The absurdity of such adviee
nee«ls no comment to expose it. It i» an axiom
in physical science, that eane and power in the
use of a natural lunction cannot be aitaimd with-
out systemutic exercise. So is it in mental scienee.
Thi**. however, the principles on whiidi B. S.'s
reply \h ^iveii do not admit, as "Timon" is told
to exfiect tlie sumc result from one course of men-
tal action as he would, according to the teachings
of indiictne philoxophy, from an opposite course.
Acconlim? to this strance tlicory, Sociates and
Bacon ou^ht to have become noveliHts, or anything
rather than firofound philo.tophers, for the key to
their mental {lower is the fact that tliey adopted
courses of mental discipline in which the ano-
tytical and synthetical faculties were duly ezer-
I iiied, and never neylrcted. It would be as absurd
to sny tliat the profound works of SocTntes and
Bacim, Newton and Locke, wcie the results of the
exercise of tlie synthetical faculty merely, as it
wiiuld be to affirm that the earth is kept in its
relative position in the system apart from the in-
fluence of the centripetal force. The defect in
mental tuition, wliich accounts for " Timon's "
dilemma, is not to be traced in their works. It
did not exi^t Their mental discipline was per-
fect, because it invulved the ju.ot exen-ise of aU
their menial powers. Bacon displayed Uie power
of the synthetic fsculty by exploding tlie Caitesian
system of philosophy on the one liand, while he
maniiested the sublime power of the synthetical
faculty on the other hand by framing a system of
philosophy which should haml his name down
Ui remotest posterity as one of the profoundestin-
tellects,and in establishing a system bearing l.ia
name and reflectiuc his genius, "not for au age,
but for all time." We have spoken tints candidly
on B. S.'a reply to ** Timon," and his animadver-
sions on our aavice, beoause he h«u%i% «a vc&9e\\
f34
THE XXQUIRER.
tef(ne ni Uoffniaiisin , in onlc r. a^ lie says, *' to
neiitrah/c the miscliiKr Uiat miKht arisA tram
'RoUa^' error." Here we muy safely leave
'* Tnnon'" and o'lr reailer* to j.uljre tor theinM-lveii
roiiceminit '•' Holla's' errtir." ami ilie riHiM'ipieiil
" niivcliief." A fi-w wor«ln on B. S.'» renmrkf* con-
Siinpkin uuJ Co., I^imdun: — 1. Alinanao, coa-
tain-ni; uu ARlronomiral AaiMretnnan, Astrology
Dc-rendf il, jfcc, ]»ricc Cxi. ; 2. AstiMnoiiiical Eptit-
uteris aiiii As]ioclarian, ]«. ; U. The Scictiii&e sad
I.iirrury Mt* HiicnKer, .'is. tid. : 4. The CaU«lro)ibe
Muudi, Is. ; it. The Arcana or AstruDOOiy, cdo-
reming analysiA and Eucliil. authors and crili- '. MMiiif; ol' tiie Duririue or Naiiviiies, Ace, lAs. ; C.
cisra, and wc liave dune. Hy what procc^!* — ' Tulili's lo de ustd in r:ileul»tii>||; Naiivi-K-«i..Vi. T.
Rurcly not iiiduciion ; »»y whul train of luuucht— Astrononiieal K]>henitrris. iroiu'lHUO to I'^O.&rJ
surely not i^lo«(i.'math»'inMtiraloliservalion;— U.S. , irtun l!^-*i» to 1^4l^, in l* vol*., 1(H. ear4i ; H. The
wlcd tn a:lirn)ihit" Ku<-lid :iirurii«tiiepiirt.>st.t)ie- i Miiiflluny of Axintlo^y, cmtlaiiiintt Jlentarka^ilf
cimeu xii *}/it I hrfira I rtn*y\\\nfi'X\.Mil ' wi* leave Nativiiirs, \c., /t. txl. ; !». Pm^)o>tic AxCruui'iaf,
him to ex)iliiin. Tii«* f.'rc:*l (•enttii niiicb accriieH i or Homry Astr^lo^'y hiinplifie>I..O!*.
to the mind fio;n iipi;lifinutii-:\l <iiijdi(.">ari'<e!i inuii ! Piiblislicd liv Kulin : — Za-lkiel s ].illy'!« HiMuy
the /ttrt that whili* iln» pruross ij«. jtnmii /acif, Astroli-ity, (iraNiniur of Ast]-i>lot;y, uiiil lalihtKr
tffnihrtir, it ■« not le<s aniilufir. Tliin in ]iar'.i(>ii- Calcula.iii^ Nal^viur^. nil iji I vul.. pticoiis.
larly true of al^ifl'ri and ciinerenlinl rulculus ; II J. J. would he kind I'nou^-h lu torwarl li:>
while, in lact, no i>u»r bnni-li of niiithnnnlicH is address. "Lihra" aill »;ivc hiuj any io.unual»c
an exeeptiun ?o the rul''. Wv houM a*>k any siu- | tnat may he n^ipiin'd us inr iin he is «itle. " LiUn
dent well viTsed in Kucliil whcthi r be i-^er uppie- | would he glad to curreA|K)ud wuh J. J. uu SsVil
faended the h«.>iuty nn>l harmony of any ))rohlfm, hiuiliris.
wirliout iiiit only sefinp ihn.>nprh it lr<im the 110. IVor/^s in Lan\for Lmw Student*.— f ft-
bepiimii)(r to the I'ud, but hark a;:ain I'nnn the i-nd haps I hhall n(il he considered olKciuuH in tendrr
to the het-iniiiuL'? We tUink n- U The hleiidiofr , int' my advici* t^i " A Law Siudeut, ' liiO'tf^ij it
of the.He two lar ilt4es arisi'.H iroui the ennstituiion ex]irt:.H>Iy Ufidr< KtCH hnnMell to C. W.. Jun. I
of the miuil auil the natrire of all mathi inalical I tiiuik for the pui poses of *' A Law Studrni, tli
atudien. This IL S. dmiL's: hul, qun Htivrantof ' list to which he rulfrn i^ chit-lly delii ieiii in Hi>-
Does R. S nivnn )>y his .stPtiMu* nt. " the oni-
ni«M;i«!'ce of Doity is synthc'.ii'." ihyil it '\» less
analytic ? IV] iVcmkh is the If'adini.' cha; ui-|i-i i^iic
of all the a'rributc^ of Drity, cousidi-n^d in i'»cry
true liffht. Th-' omniM'u-ner (if l')i;ity i.^ a;* juirf ly
analytic n-t Kyntheiic As it rc;;ar>l!S unthoi-fl an«l
cririeiNmH, 11. S.'h views are \h*' n verse of oun*.
" IColhi" asxurc.4 )iim that he has hm^ r\unnne<i
lory, a hianch "f knowledKi; of viial and (MS-
mount iinport:tnce to the lttw}cr. I suuir^'ii tl'
f>dli>niu;; list uv su|ipicuientdr> to Ibatiuru^b^
hy L. : -1 . S.r Hams Nicolas' Ohrunoloiry H His-
tory; 2. ki-i»hiley H UuiiineH ol IliKtury \W
tw,> iturks. publihhed in tiie Cubin< I (Jyclu}«db.
are iuvaluatile, and i<honld he iisrJ as hoi>k« d
ciinstnnt i\/errtire): U. Ilallamh C<iUi* iluiuAi!
many of the cri:iri<ms whirh Ikivc ]iriicccih-d i History; 4. Halldms Middle Atrvs ; ft. HalUat
from the pins of Kncilnnd'N and Scotlantlis pro-
foumlfHi niind<( ami to his dt-licht bus met with
many ln*nu'eous portions of anfili/ttml crUinsm
on works of iioi-try. srii'uc*. art. Ir«riiture, theo-
logy, pfilitus, history. ^c(•.. iill o| wliicli wi 11 lepsiy
their repeari-d ]m rusal We think U. S. s lemarks
on critici.iui iu general hi).'hiy erroneous, /i/o
knuch so to ih> mueh hann in the pn-sent ilay,
when the keenest int- Herts, proiouniles^t niinds.
poet4 ami phi1o«o)ih<'n, think il no ilishouour to
write n*views on vorks whieli emhoily error or
illnstralc truth. Tn worthy productions in this
branch of our literatuie then- are ; ihrse we do
not dffend : hut ilo'y are the e.\rep;ioni to the i
rule n. S. iittcmpts to hiy down. Iinl''s. wc woul-i '
remiii<l him, staml on farts as well ns tbnnie.s, ii ■
■they an' true. Is H. K. aware or whose sentimi uio j
his an- ih*' i-cho? Thev are as commo-i a.s streei
1 it<T;i(ure of Kuitj)H>, 4 vol*. : o. liiiizuc * Hi»My
of K'^prcsentaiivf «ioverniot-nt, aiid lli»l*iry o:'
Civilization: 7. Hume's Hisuuy of Kni:luiid; >
.Mchiio^h'N Hi!«tory of Kuulaud (Ca!>iiir-t Cydi-
liu'diu) : \t. (iioii'n's Declint! and Fall of W
Konian Empire ; UK Alisou s Histoiy ol Ewvfr:
II. rrolessi^ir Smytii m Lectuies ou Sloijrm his-
tory; 1*2. Arnolds Lecluic-* on HiMui) : H
Hair's History of the Con:nton Law ; 14. buili-
MUt K Leciurcs; \^t. May's Hisliiry ol I'ail-.uuhu:.
Ill Lord I'lan-mlob's Hii^lory. J7. Lo:d Ciancc-
dou'x I.ile: |m. Smie Tiiaiit ; lU- Munt.s^itirat
Kspiit lies Lois ; 'Jt). Austin s Proviiicc ot Jank-
i*rtd>nio I)t lined; 31. Ilenthaiii's I.ieLnsla:i<(
Works iieiierally. especially Diunont'ii Luiii'-ni:
the Piiiii:ipU's of I.v^ioiaiiiin: ;.^2. IinMii:b«is»
Poli.ical Pnilo'«o|d)y ; 'J >. TJie )iielimiuary ih*-
M*itiitious ill the Lncyelotia'dia i>ii:aiiui» {lac
Itallads ain<mff that dt>.'>nii.-jihl<.> ela«s of persons new rdition now publi«>hinK); 24. Adambaui::*
who wiit« for no other pnrpoAr thati to make Wtnlth of Nii'ions, M'CuUocti's Kdition: ii
hooks— ih'iNe everla«:inK synthesizers, who eon- MCuIloch s Cominrrtial Dielionarv ; S«4 btrWi
•ttuntly K^txt the market with their trash. While [ liam HaniiUonit Kdition of Ktida E^ais; i^
sneh a etate of iliinfrs exists, we can hut re^anl ' Hirschrls Preliminary Discnursa on Xaionl
criticism as the miL'htv bulwark of true. pure, and PhiloS'>pby ; *JH lirown a Piiiloao'^diy i.>i ijic Hir
tithliuie lit^'iaiure ; and our .Ictfreys, our Foster^, j man Miiui ; tif). 1)i. Young a I^i-iuit-K on Naiat«I
our Macaulays, an<l many of the present contri- i Piiiloso])hy: iiO. I^uckea Kasuy on the liiidar*
hiiton to our popular revicwH, as far greater anil { Mian<lini; ; "iL Miltou'a Proaa Works: 38. £a-
nobler brnefai-tors than any or all the Dickcnsen.
JanieseH, Ace , the world has known ; and all such
insinuatifins as 1). S makes, tlie nianiiestations of
a liteniry pride which has paid dearly fur ita folly.
--RCM.I.A.
14H. Il'orkn on Antmlofftf. — Your eorres]toniIent
J. J. arjll probably. And some of tha followinj;
Kork9 on astrology to med \i\a wanu ■. — . j«^, .. ^... ,»..».,^ ,^ ,
Workt by W. J . Simmonile, k.l&MVute^^«^^'l \ V» VvbwS^U Vir ^tu«h
mund llurke's Works.
'1 henbote I consider to be worka with «hirli"i
Taw Student should be more or leas aequaiMrd.
"(teiieral literatuie" ia a pronncr iu wLich fef
should srldom wander: oceaawnaily, aa a nlKf
from aeverer studies, he may aiiaiil an hoar in itt
pleasant domains: and, recvaaiion bviuF liii i^
ieet, it will perha|M be wiaeat Ihat beahouldatiMC
1 bM* puriMMly
TUL ISigUlUER.
235
avoidrti including such work* in my livt. '* A
Lmw StiiJeiit" eompivins Uiiit Uie tunufr list of
wurks in too theoloificai ; I wuulJ iviniuU liiiii
tbat Ibvulo^ry is m, ueliool lor liit? Am 7 us wvll iin
the A«a/*f. CuleiidKir h.-iN sui'I, " lMt*-n$f »tndif o(
the JtiMe nill ke«]> any iDan ir^in bfin^; vuIkiu- in
point of »tyle;" aud un uaulhcr Mocavi mi he dr-
clared ihut he vould rrcumuM-nd hii tuimratr tn
^mpluy part o( kiN liriHiire liinu iii tlir> H'.udy of
" Uie nieUiphyMr-i of throlir^y." ArL-iiiiLsh'.ip
Whul'dy, whtii itT}diiii till* hiuilrnt of l.i^ii; to
practiMi liiin.iclf liy tiiiiilv/iu'^ >ir;.'iuiit-iitiiiive
work.*. ri't-nni'Dcnds Butler's AiuddL'V, Cliiiliii^-
worth'b Keliiiiou of ProreHtuniH, I'iilfy h Jlom-
PaiiliMX-, uiid ulh<-r (cnittly Ou-tu.-innl] uuiks, hk
airunUMK II i« lte*t sp-'ii.M'HK nj irti ■ ifosuntmi.
Chief -luviire Mnn^ii-i'ld spiMk.« of (,'fii;ti>:;{wi>r;ii
nfi " a muiirl of ar:;iiini-iil.itiuii : " i.oi-kt; )ii-up(>sLfl
the " s'.iidy of Ciiiliiiifrwuriii for l1m< a:ttiiiinii-i)t of
per*/*iciiiiif HDil hfiht rrasimiifj ;" and Mr. War-
ren, in liis work o • Jawbtiidi- >, iir';er- inriitt;; tin*
•(tuiiiut to adopt Lurke'H siiL':<c:«lion, mid stkrtch-
iuK out a pl.m lor tnnt piirpn>»>>, <(pi;(ik.<t thus.—
** Thf t'ttl will hv KCvri-1- iit tii-Mt. hut the ]ii-(«iit, if
Jou {H-i-Si-virc tor iMoni/ut, (!) uill lie iiiiiiH-n.He."
wuiiJil aiivite *■ A I.hw Stu-ic-nt' lo mid to tiir
thco1ut:i'-:il ]i<«t of L.,i)iLi work ••rCi>illiiit;nMttti.
I puriMscIy omit tiny " U-tt of lio jkn in la v." If
** A Law Stu'lent" has ulicrady roiiiin>.-iM rd l.in
law siiidieii, he nuist know ili.-it it in i-i.]ii<vi:.lt
for oziy one to a<lvi>iL' him on this puin' viiniii
tht' liinil.t of the " Ini|iiirc-r," uiiitstN his ]itisc
ktuili'^ aiiii hu fu'.ure i:iii'ii:iiniK wen! known
Tbe list oi law Ijookh is iiiliTii-ina'df, and cvi-ry
proJe%sintinl vtudfut niiisi 1h- truirU'-i in tiix atdcf-
tiuii by ihi! circnniAt ail (■«■!• of \\w own rjso. I
n>is(hl aiivisr him to ^|i<rnd some liunditils of
]iOUudN in hiHfks nertxaarti in nfhri- br-iinriu-M of
the proli-^Mon, hut Ki'/cx* to /r<i/i. Let him fol-
low tlje a<l%ire of L , and ciiriMully si'.udy Mr.
^Varrfni "Iiilroihic:i<'n lo l.uw .Mud !'-•«. ' In
'•oneliuU'iD, may I oiler a hion<Uy wnrniinr? I.i-t
" ALaw Slutlrnl" hewan* of nt'i'nip'intf too much.
Not many are phy»icaliy nhW to '• drvo'e lU lea><t
»iilht hourn a day to cluir and mnliumtHS stndi/.'
Too many imairiiie lh:it ni;-ir mi iin*.; i* aUviv :
iiothini? i-an h** more cmmeouH. TtiC woriiH in
llie ToifKoinir list may lic nad in a i onipnniiively
frbort lime, — lu«/Mf/.v them nitl ieiiuirf> yrtirs i\f
%'e^ulat' and tystf.tnulie labnur. " N'oii.ni:; wnuk-
cna every farulty of the n>ind aH morn tw exten-
sive ivailinfrwi>houtri'ni'ciion."(I>ii^'ald Siewnrt.)
Kead and ^Minder o«'er ihit chnpUTs on " Stutly '
And " lleHiiin);' in Todd's Nto<lriii'i« (iuidc, lt:i-
c-on'a Kii^ay, **<M StuMim,' and Stewarts Pnilo-
AOpliy of the Mind, part ii. vhup. 0. »ccl. •>. —
11. S.
C. W., Jun., bepi to inform "A Law Student"
that prolonffe*] absence trora home liaH piT-
vmttfd hiH coraphinfT wi'h Uie compliiiiont-.iry
reqneM contriined in the March ninnltcr of Hits
inairaxine. Immediately on hist reium the maiu-r
»liall huve attention. In the meantime " A I.4iw
Student" may find it beueiiciul to reperuiiR some
of the books wiUi whieh he is uln>ady actpininled,
ttfid commence keeping a ref^istry of wh»t ho
reada. if be has not already ilone so.
]0r3. MaHU*r§-ipt Mttgaxinn — It ir customary
in aoBBe mhooU for the more advanced pu|dN to
Iccwp up a manuscript miiraKine amonu Uiem-
aelvca, lor the aaka of praclioe in composition.
The order of proceeding is as luUons: — one of
the ossoridtiou \* appointed '* editor;" bis dutiaa
beioK to colhi-l a small sum from each of the
nti'whers u>war<ls defiayini; the expenses {tar
piiper, &c.}. and to prepare Urn slieetM for the
uiHirnzine, moniLily or Wftkly ax the ca^e mmj
he, by KlJtchiiit; lo}:ilbcr a i|uire or two of fools-
cap. !>omt!timi-M the vrihnary rxeiciiiebimks ia
itJte in the Kchool u re employ nl lurtiie pur|>o!t«,lwo
or more biiii-^ itown bj^^rtner. Tne editor then,
heinL' himbeU ktui rally the clevcrt-ht at composi-
tion, wiii>s un urti'U: lii'ii. i-ither a short e^iiay,
or revii w of .Mibie hunk or piny he han lately read,
or u copy nf l/iiin or Enudiih veriM', or ii-uiiiilalion
from suiiic clashiral author, or a dhon story with
ui-«riil. \c..iinil then ^\\i•s. the niH*ru7.Mic to the next
in order, who also mriirs sunMsilrnp. and then
L>i\cs it til the nixl.a.'iii so on till the nia>.;HxineiN
<->jm|>h'i(-d. Ariau-.:>'mt'i.is arc pieiiuuitly made
by the editor, whu ki'i-;s u 1:m nt iho.ie who have
pioniistrd to tumliihuh-, that no two nieniben
fth<iuld write on t.ie same su'oieL'i. unltihH. us oo-
fObionHlly hii]»p«-n!i. tliu oojcrt be a coni;iariiion of
thi; views oi tlic ddVei-em pupils upon one sub-
j^Tt, uH up<>n ii thiok they hoir ull lately read.
When linihhi'il the niHL'iizine is cirt-ulule>i once
more amon:; all the members of the a^MXMUiion .
and thus i:ach has an oppoiiniiity of uieiisurmfr
hi> own powers hy tht .tit vi his leliows. It is
rertiiinly an Hdmiriihii; phui for irainini: in com-
pd^iiion.ns well us fur lemoviiu; thai sidi-ixinceit
K iiieh \ouni; wrili-r^ no ^eni rally entertain : and
1 nni .surprised (hat it i.t nut more ^eneraily en-
couraged by Hchoo'ma'>i(-r!i, in lino oi the dry,
lonu»l ehhaiys npiMi u uiven kuh itct rc(|uired of
the hoyn, the ituly M-unihli! p.-iris of whiuh are
usually copied iiom luuu-uld nirt^:i/iue or revii'w.
I hitvi; not hiMiii of munuiriiiii mnfr-izines beinf^
kepi any w Urn* hut in ^rhoois, but I have no
doubi that vi-ry cmiside-nldc heiietii would result
wliere a givut nii:nlM-r oi ucipiH:nt:inct-n, rr»idiug
wi:bin u email cinnit, >o that there should be no
trouhle or 1o!<k oi lime in piiKsin^ tlie mai;axine
fnun one lo ano her. s.iould cl:ili io;^:ther for
Sit' h ftn uliject. I'eriodieal noi:iiii:;s niitfbt be
held for arninv:ini; und l•l:l.s^i^yln^ the coniribu*
ti>rs, aiiil di'<cu*"'i:iK iinii criiiei/niL' Uie CfUirihu-
tiiMi^. ThuN if. iuuluii;>' liicLory.uU ihcwitrking
]ieoplc thui coiild wni>^. Mii:dd wnti: (or such an
o'i;«".'t, whnt ititiiiciiM; lieneht to tiieir intellectual
iiiid hociul cun lition would prob:ibly result.
'I'lip ciiittir, in !>ii-. Ii n cu»i:, it is iiet!dltr>s to ob>
.Stive, ^li'iiii 1 lie a pertion of niHiiiro j-idi(nient,
and ^'reat lart uml discrimination ; uiiil iheolofrr
Hud ]ioliii h, I think. »hoidil he rJKoroiudy ez>
cliiiietl ironi >u> h ma-.'iiy.ine — F. J. L.
.Mioiuscripl ni:iua/ineh are c-niefly ^ot up hy,
and ciiculNUeii nnioiurMt, the. nicniber* ol mutual
iiii;)ro«enienl sucieiies. A niendier, generally the
Mi-iv.iury, ac's a^ editor. lie Mipulies the other
niembers with p'iperofa unifoimKixeand colour,
or t:iey puirhase it. Such of the inemiiera aa
(dio<ise wri;e »hort original articles. These an
handtrd to the eilitor, who HiTunpes an'l geti Ihem
bt Itched up, or bounil. The ina^zine is thta
circiiiati-il ainonyst the members by ballot or
rotation. I'he editor is iiMinliy expected lo a rile
an article lor ilie mapaxine, and to provide a
■uppleinentary part, roiitaininic an account p'
the moHt notable oecnirencea tn the aoirieiT and
in neiirhbouring ansociationn, since to<t asii aaue.
In this part any letters are iiixerted havin|( r^>
rence to matters of paasiDg intBceat or \«Qt^«a-
236
THB IHQUIRBB.
tanoe, and the supplement is in the handwriting
of the editor. It is also a duty of the editor to
reject articles unfit for insertion. In most mauu-
aoiipt ma^zinea a space is left at the end of each
artiule, or at the end of eanh number, in which
the T««ders are at liberty to make written obser-
vations on the articles. In otlier magazines tliis
is not done, but tlie articles are submitted to
verbal rriiicism, or no formal criticism is made at
all. We wish, however, to do more than merely
answer the question put by I. O. IJ. We cor-
dially recommend the introduction of these maga-
zines into all societies which do not possess
them. The artii:Ie9 ai-e usually shorter, and of a
lighter kind than those .submiitf-d for critiiiftm at
the ordinary meetings of mutual improvement
societies ; and consist of tales, poems, brief
essays, nutires of books, ftc. Manuscript maga-
zines encourage careful composition and })en-
manship, tlie articles being read by the different
members. 'I'Ue Bntith Coitt rover ^ialist cannot
be said t«> interfere with the circulation of msnu-
acript niagaziues. Its province is much more
extended. We regard it as a bond fur uniting the
members of mutual improvement societies \\\ all
parts of the kingdom as one glorious brotherhood.
As no society should be without this valuable
periodical, hO no soriety should be without its
own manuscript magazine. And in tlie event of
two or more societies in the some town forming a
union, tlieir magazines might be interchanged.
T. II., Ediuhurijh.
Having been connected with the estaidii^hment
of two manuscript uiagaznies — having gained no
small bentKt from a continued connexion wiUi
both — having long rejoiced over the permanent
good whicli tliey liave conlierred on individuals,
and through tiiem on society — having traced the
progress of tlie minds of the coutiibutors to tho>e
magnzines to their prosent po.sition in the liteiary
world, viz., that of contHbiitoi-s to public iragu
zines, ail the members of one society having
written artieien wkjich have appeared in the f'oti-
troveratalint, except one^ whose pniduciions have
appeared in other popular periodicals ; while
mott of the members of the otlier socirty are note
connected with a new magazine of merit and no-
velty— we venture to present I. O. U. with
"some ffrneral iniormaiiun." We ^hall not be
blamed if it is parlUular and prartical as well
on tlie subjecL
We cannot do belter than give a brief glance at
each of Uiese societies of contributors lo their
respective manuscript magazines, as both furnish
an illustration of the intellectual good which must
inevitably result from tlie contact, influence, and
co-opemtiun of minds of dirterent tastes and capa-
eities, all having the j^oocf of each in view.
The one was in the town, and consisted ol
aoout a dozen members, of diflereni position and
avocation in the world. The other was in the
onuntry , and coii>>ioted of but fi)ur members. The
former wa.s represented by a manuscript maga-
zine, called " Our Monthly Portiulio of Ski tches,
l.iterar>- and ArUstic ;" the latter, the " Literai7
Seaublic."
They were independent of each other, and un-
connected, except that Uie vnter was a contri-
butor to both magazines. They were vastly dil-
favnt, as town antl country societies invariably
Mr^f but were both I ued <m good \>T\i\c\YAe% and
I*w»; uud oeitiMir ww devoid oC nuen^ yuot \i««
from many imperfectiona. We aball apeak eluefly
of the " Monthly Portfolio," aa it is most likely to
furnish I. O. U. with the information he seeks.
It was, necessarily, the largest and best-con-
ducted of the two. The first and aeoond numbcfs
lie before us, and most have passed through oar
hands. None are unworthy of the title. Eaca
contains articles on diflTerent sulf}ects ; poetry,
translations, and illustrations in pendl. walo--
coiours, and oil. We give the index of the fin:
number, which is, perhaps, inferior to the ml:
and leave the reader to judge of its couirai^,
compass, and possible worth, as they have ottra
done of works by glimcing down a bookseller'»
catalogue.
We would much rather give a few quotations,
to show that it is not devoid of merit, than assert
the same, but our space doea not pennit. llie
index to the first number is as follows {rtek
article i.H signed with an assumed name) : — Pit-
face, by the Kditor ; Es«ayic Writings and Mti-
invil Ailvice to Critics, Eothen ; Sentencrs aboat
Ua, Iota ; Vi.sions of tlie Night, a Poem bjr Ci-
vitas: Art and Religion, Paolo; Biographj of
Oberlin, Giovanni ; Gavazzi, a Poem by Areiir;
Science, Theophilus ; Evening, a Nkelch in Va-
ler-Colours by Paolo; Giegory VII. and Am
Times, Chronos ; Le A>ouverain Peuple. Ultimai;
Composition, a Sketch in Pencil by (lOiegs:
also about ten pages of criticisms. These sre
neatly tianscrioed, and stitched up in a stiff
wrapper, bearing the above-mentioned title. It
consists ol about a hundred quarto i-ages All
articles were forwarded to tlie editor, who vis
appointed by the mnjority, and held office ft*
tent pore. Every number was issued at the be-
ginning of the month, and circulated aiuong the
member* ol tlie society. Each meinl*er was st
liberty to pass praise or censure on any ul the pro-
ductions, as several blank pages were leic at the
end of each article, &c., which were generallj
hlled, showing what interest was taktn in cacb
composition. This society did not cea e to exi»i
because it had witliin itself the elements of decay,
itut because its power was called into anotfcer
and a much wider sphere, viz., the pag»s ot tk*
" Midland Metro|>olit«n Magazine."* Whatever
may be Uie future inieilectuaJ history of its men-
beis. we doulit not but that the days wlien ibey
wrote for its hunible pages will ever be rencn-
bered with joyous rerurreuce. The " Litcfary
Hepubhc," notwithstanding all its rircimMantidl
defects, was, in one |>oint, auperior to the
* Monthly Poitfolio." Itsmemhem did nut confine
their remarks and criucisms to pen and paper,
but alter the manuscript-book had teen iouimI to
each men.ber. who in-erted his own article, a
meeting was held, at which each production wis
read by the writer, aiid not unDvijueutly brcaBv
the subject of continued criticism, anaiyzatioa.
and coniroversy. This arrangement led cath
member to study and write upon sul»irels lar
more common and practical than ever appesrrJ
in the*' Monthly Porltolio." This gave the moitsl
power ol the " Literary Republic' UiatAtas wkich
has led its members to the arena of debate^ thrown
open to all by the ControveraialUt. I>«mi4icas,
most readers, pemsiutr the coUretcd writiaiKS of
tbe " Kepublic. ' would recognba the pecwhanlj of
X * Published monthly. Arthur U all, YiitWp mi
THS UtQUIBKB.
8S7
intelleettial idiosyncrmcy dUpIayt-d lo palpably in
the oUm ■ophisticatiou of T. B.'s ajti-mative
MticJe on the "Confessional," and in tbe deep
neffative philosophy of " Cosmopolite's" negative
axlicle on the " Sabhath. '
We would ailviiie I. O. U. to bear in mind this
feature of the **Literary Republic," ifhe thinks
of eatablbhiufc • similar society, and, if posMiMe,
to fpve it prominence, as it invariably tends to
lead Uie mind to topics uf every -day consideration
and practical beunug on society at large, which,
of all Uiiniis, is the most desirable in tiie present
day, when the press is coiistunily sending fortli
the volumes of many a Dumas — when fiction and
idealism sfeiii to be the ambition of the majoiity
of writers, especially beyinnerM.
'They who, by coutiuued thought, close iiives-
tigaiion . deep |>eiieiTation, and sound philosophy,
throw back the fuld« of error fiom religious,
social, or political 7iie»fion«, which the voice of
•fres, it may be, has answered in dogmatic error,
take their position among the world's greatest
benefactors. To them mankind will ultimately
listen, and award tlie laurels of iimuortulity !
Tbe es:aiilishment of societies which shall blenJ
tbe peouliariiies of organization, as seen m this
brirf glance at these two societies, would ncoes-
aarily prove much more fjjficient than eiih<>r of
them buvei/ofte, in training mindh for such intcl-
leccual action, the glorious result of which is to
hieMS niaiikind by deliveiing them from th«: igno-
ble fetters ot specious trror, and eHlaldishinK them
in tbe diviue liberty of everlasting truth, liuving
been connected with a literary and sciiintjdc iu-
atitution, also a mechanics' inMiiution, we can
testily to the pennanent good which such tLwaiiu-
acript matiazine would be likely to efl'ect, it well
conducted by the members — TiiKorui i.us.
For the iniormatton of I. (>. U., I append a
few particulars of how a manuKciiiH maguzine
ia mauuged at an institution ol which 1 am a
member.
It i« upwanls of three years since it was com-
mencid ; and the ])lan we adopted has worked
exetediugly well. We appoint an editing com-
mitter, composed of three members (electe<l annu-
ally), to receive the contributions of the members.
and whose duty it is to reject any article which
thej may deem unworthy of insertion, and to see
that tbe magazine is issued to the members
punotutdly on tlie first Monday in every month.
Our magazine is clojiely « rittrfu on note-pa|>er,
and a\enige< about Ally pages, and is often em-
bellished With Tery superior di awings. The mem-
bers look anxiously fur its appeal ance the day of
pobiicaii<m, and it forms one of the principal feo-
torea uf our institution.
I think the plan of having manuscript maga-
sisca in connexion with societies for mutual
impruvement is deserxing of encouragement;
and tliat, when well cumlucti'd, witli perseverance
tbey will pro^e conducive of much good to e\ery
reader and writer.— O. D. W.
IW. The Older of Sudying the Sciemr.s. —
The question relative to the order in which the
diflbrent scicnees should be studied has been
tlioughl not unworthy of attention by some of
the ptoJoubdeat philosopliers the world has pos-
■eaaed. But as I presume Z A. has in view
no question in mental philosophy, but wishes
simply to aacertaiu in what urdir the four
branches of learning be meuttous,gi ammor, geog-
raphy, history, and mathematics (for algebra is
a part of mathematics;, are, in their elementary
portions, most easily and naturally to be acquired,
I will attempt briefly to explain that order whieh,.
to my mind, seems most natural, being adapted
to the progressive growth of the human faculties,,
language, and reason, viz. — grammar, history
geography, mathematics.
1. The art of speaking and wrriting one's native
language coirectly, so as to be able to communi-
cate with others without violating any of those
rules which regulate such intercourse in our own
sphere of society, seemit pointed out by nature as-
the primary object of instiuction, and among all
civilized nations it has ever been esteemed such,
as evidenced by tlie routine of school education
invariably adopted. It is. evidently, a necessary
pieiiminary to the study of history or gtogmphy,
which can never become intelligible till the
meaning of words and sentences is understood.
Arithmeiic (omitted by Z. A.) seems naturally
to f'dlow next in order ; tliat is to i^av, so much uf
the science of numbers us is needful to secure us
from mistake and imposition in the transaction of
business with other mt-n.
2. Next in order, history presents itself as the
mo<)t proper subject of htudy. I mean, of course,
thoi>e elementary outlines uf it, and particularly
the history of one's own country, which Lus
always betn considered a necessary portion both
of the higher and lower education. It properly
follows grammar, inasmuch as when once the
power of ivuding and understanding ptinted
books has been gained, the interest should bo
excited and sustained by the narrative of great
and striking events, while tbe memory is strength-
ened by Uie learning of names and date». In
rtruding hisior}', even in this early stage, the
maps of count! ies referred to should be con-
stantly consulted.
3. But the siuily of geography as a separate
science, especially of the diier details, in which
a knowledge of geometr)* is requisite, should bo
deferred until the intellect has been fortiftcd by
the previous study of history. In its higher
departments it is a science of great diiiicully,
reijuiring a vtry considerable degree of skill in
the mathematics.
4. The elementary mathematics are of littky
use, except as a mental discipline. For practical
puiposes in actual life tliey are very seldom
wanted ; only in their higher and more dilUcult
applications do they become useful to scientitic
and profeK.sioiial men, to the actuary, surveyor,
aichitect. engineer, and astronomer, fcluclid m.iy
probably be studied with advantage together with
geography ; algebra, which is arithmeiic gene-
ralized, a year or two later. Up to quadratio'
equations is amply sufficient for disciplinary pur-
poses ; and then Uie elementary parts ol trigono-
metry, so far OS to include tlie solution of triangles.
If'Z. A. desire it, any extensive bookseller
would probably lurnish him with a list of the
elementary w orks in each of these four branches
of study, which are most ui demand. And I
would remark, that no one who is not yet
payt fifty need despair of making very great pio-
grcss in any or all of these, if he really wishes.
An eminent living philosopher holds that tlie
powers of the mind are strongest at about forty-
eight years of age. Only let the students motto
be, " Whatever thy baud fimktb to do, do iL'i&^aiik
saa
THE TOUNG STUOB>T ASTD WBXTEB's ASSISTANT.
thy might," and he will inevitably make great
progreM. Let Z. A. acul others in lii« situation
procure and read attentively Todd's " Student's
Guide" (a good edition, edite<l by the ReT. T.
Dale, is published by Koutledge aud Co.), and
also Foster's " Essay on Decision of Character."
— F. J. L.
158. Solution of a Oeographieal Pivblem. —
As the tiro trHvellers K. O. relen to conipleic. tlie
journey in ^HOO days (or any other number ot
days) each, they must travel at the rate of
180 de^. -1-300=^(1 deg. per day, and tlie eastward
traveller's noun uii each day begius -^g Aeif. x 4 =
:|} mln. tiuoner Uinn on Uie preceding day. The
-westwu^i traveller's juit the revei-se ; vi2.,3{ mm.
later; hence,3| mm. x 2=7^ difference of time be-
tween the follo«ring noonday of the travellers.
Aud 7^ min x.i0(ls24 hours total difference be-
tween the noonday of the travellcm, or time
gained by eastward traveller. Therefore he must
arrive '24 hours (one day) sooner, and the etst-
ward traveller arriving on hie Tuesday, would
call the next day Wednesday, but which the vest-
ward ti*aveller calls Tuesday, and wuuld be called
Tuesday by tlie inhabitants of the place. As
proof of tills I shall suppose the eastward tn-
veller continues his journey until he eompleM
bis revolution, an:l airives at Grernwioh. gaioinf
each day ^'^ deg , or 3{ rain. ; that it, having bb
noonday to much earlier than on the pncedinc
day. Hence, arriving in 4(Hl days, he would hsra
trained 4<K)x 3{ min. =24 hours m advance of Uk"
noonday at Greenwich. And if it were Tuesday
he amved on accordmgto his calenilar.hevaoU
lind, to hiit surpriiie. they called it We tnesday.
And, were it nliowed him to travel with the velm
city of that daylight in a westerly direction, uotil
he would arrive at the plam; where he (urmaif
met his fellow-traveller, he would lind that tbey
also colled it Wednesday. — STAXiaLaus.
CIjB ^nnng l^tnhnt ml iBrittr's assistattt.
LOGIC CLASS.
Junior.— Vuie "Art of Reasoning." No. VI.,
VoL I.— Why does the simly of the human mind
not deeply nilerest the present age? Mention
one fnreat tiisiiiiction between physics and meta-
physics? How can Sflf-kuowledge bo gained?
What is evidence 7 Why is the law of evi lence
an all-important inquiry? What do we find in
eocA varying objeotivii^? Wiih what is man
bom ? What is consciousness 7 What is the
ultimate criterion of truth to each individual 7
Do any laws govern the human mind? What
are tiie twin i»owers of fon^cioiisness? How are
the Aindamenul principles on which rcasonmg
proeeedn educed?
P/iop^clior.—li xercise. No. VI , Vol. II.
Senior. — Con^iousness— its Nature and Laws ;
its Relation to Memory and Associaiion. (Hamil-
ton, CouHtn, Locke, and Macvicar are the best
references, in the order of their arrangement, we
nan ^ivt regarding " The Pliilosopby of Con-
sciousness.")
GRAMMAR CLASS.
ExereUes in Orammar. No.
XV
Junior Dioition.
Perform Exercise No. VI., Vol. III. p. 278.
Senior Divi$ion.
Plac^ the verbs in the following exercise, and
their inflexions, in a form like the one given : —
''True liberty eon<rists in the privilege of en-
joring our own rights." *'The smallest trifle
often renders a nan miserable, while innumerable
mercies and blessinirs produce no thankfulnen."
" Tradition it but a meteor, which. iJ on>e it lalL
cannot be rekindletL* " Ho who in tlie prime of
lite finds time to hang heaviW on hi« hatidt, is^
with much reaxou suspect that he has notroa*
suited the duties which the consideration uf hii
age impo-sed upon him." " He who, widioitf
firiends to encourage, acquaintance to pity, even
without hope to alleviate misfortunes, can Irehaw
with tranquillity, is truly great, and, vbetber
ptrosaiit or cuurtier, deserves admiration, ni
should be held up for our imita'ion and respecL'
" Hi! is a true man and honourable who keep*
steadily in the path oi honour, aud Imves tlM
laugh of the world.' " The veil which eo»en
futurity has be»n woven by the band of merry."
** Trutli iippearM the brighter, and act{uirrs a nf
lustre, by a tree and candid inq>iiry." *'Tfcc
human mind will improve itself if kept in anioa.
but grows dull and loi-pid when left to »luB)bcr.'
"Stupidity itielf may be culiivatetl.** •***«■
any calamity has been sulRired, the first ttiingV
be remembered i», how much has been escapsi'
" Guilt, thouifh it may attain temporal sipleaJsv.
can never confer real ha}ipineaa.** **Trie mt^
important trutltt cannot be too early leaf*'
" The wild olive tree of our natural powcnW
not given to be burnt or blighted, but to begraArf
on." " The happuiees we cannot eall our •■>
we yet seem to possess, while we syuipalliii*
with those who can." "There isnoeeumty ia«
good lli>po<tition, if the support of good piimipi*
e wanting: it may be eoured by '
corrupted by wealth, or blighted by :
V£RBS.
Active, or Tiunsititb.
Pavsitb.
Prewent P«rt.
Perfect
iX\;^~«A^'*-\
P«itidp\e.
^«tfect
Ntcurcm, Oft IvTajjniTin-
7t«sent. 1 PnL
\
\ \
\
I
VV
TUB TOUNO 8TUDBSIT AVD WBITKR^S ASSISTAKT.
23f
MODEL EXEBCISE No. III.— Ilde Vol. III. p. 196.
I.— NOUNS.
1. Formation of the Plural.
Bt the addition
of " 8."
S, sh, eh (sound-
ing tsb), z, and o,
adding "es."
1
Y, changed into
" ies."
F, or fc, changed
int0"ves."
Invfiular.
caitiiTs
clilTs
poTitifls
puffs
sc<jffs
asses
echoes
wishes
boxes
carinas
buffaloes
dishes
grottoes
mottoes
potatoes
▼oleanoes
allies
armies
aviaries
beauties
calves
halves
knives
lives
loaves
sheaves
shelves
men
children
feet
women
geese
teetli
T, preceded by a
vowel, remaining
regular.
lice
banditti
oxen
F, or fe, remain-
ing regular.
foci
abbeys
attorneys
ehimneys
genera
hvpotheses
dicta
dwar/s
l^fes
grieft
hoofs
strifes
Exeeptions in o.
seraphim
nnnadilkiB
folios
nuncios
punstilHos
porticos
seraglios
Double plurals.
broUiers
brethren
diee
dies
sows
swine
peniuses
mdexes
inilires
pennies
pence
doemas
dogmata
pease
peas
3. Brothers is the pltural of the family relation-
ship.
Bzcthreu is the plural of a relationship produced
by RSAoeiation.
Dice — the cubes used in gaming.
Dies — stamps used for imptessiug battons, coins,
&o.
Sows— the usual plural of sow.
Swine — the original plural of sow, now used as
the plural of the species.
Genii — titulary deities.
Geniuses — ^roen of genins.
Indexes — talilea of contents ; hands of a elock.
Indices originally the ploral of ** indire/' now
olMolete : the exponents of algeliraie fbrmulte,
■a tht small figures in a*, x*^ See.
Penee — a sum of copper coins, oousidered in the
Pennie»— a nmnber of penny cosna.
Bogmasy dogmata— synonymous.
Peaae — peas in the masa, as peaae^pud^g.
•* — ~ number of peaa.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— III.
Qwstion 19. 1 : 1^ : : _L : ^1,120.
n lur
Onfttiim ^. £3 17s. 6d.= £3-875, fhe price per
troT ounce,
200 COO ^__ 200 000 480
•■• -38:^ ***** *~y' **' 3 875 ""-T"^ 8^™'
800000 480 ,^ . , .
"" '3-875 ^7ooo="^''-*''°''^"P°"
ton cwt. qrs. lb. oz. dr.
«3S3917051b.,or 1 U 2 US II, &d.
J. F.Im
Q9»»tion 21.
27 ft. 8 in. X 36 ft. 9 in. x IS ft. 6 in.scub. content,
orS71x36|xt2|s--x — x- -»-— --^
• * ■ 3 4 2 M
sISTOOf cubic feet
QwHImSS. I«c««.p«iceorThe1lT«tlMff«e,
yspriee of the seonnd borw,
aapriee aftbe saddle;
240
VOTIGES OF BOOKS.
then, by question, «+ 2=1 10 (I)
y+z= 70 (2i
andx+2^=120 (3j
Tiunnposing (I) tnd (i), and adding them to-
cether, Kveget x-¥y=\B0-22
(3) 180-2 z= 120
180-120 60 ^^
... ^= _ = --=£30,
substituting this in ( 1 ) x= ilBO,
and substituting the value of x in (3) ffs:£iO.
Sapper.
Question 23. Let x=the number of hours eadi
-was on tlie roail before they roct;
then x+ (5 slime of first train,
X +3= time of second train ;
hra. hrs. journey.
then y+6 : x
and x+3 : x
1 = - ',
X+3
distance travelled
by first to mcet-
iuK point ;
distance travelled
by Kccond to
meeting point ;
••x+3^x+6-'*
clearing the fractious and transposing x*=:18;
.-. x=-v/18=4-24'2t)4,&c.
.'. x+« = 10'24204, &c., time of first,
and x+3=7'242G4, &c., time of second.
Sapper.
Question 24. Now, as solids are to each other
MS the cubes of Uietr homologous sides, and the
oistems are in the ratio of 1 : 2, we have— as
1 : 2 : : 10» : 2000 : and V^W0=12ft99211 feet=
lengUi of cistern required. And 1 : 2 : : 7» : fi86;
and V*'''"=^'^l^^^~— ^'^^ of otstem. AIi>o, as
1 : 2 : : 6* : 432 and V^=7 ^9U526 feet=depih
of cistern, when the alteration is made.
Question 25. As the anfrles of a triangle are
equal to t«o right angles, or 180", 180«-(37«» 51'
+670 25')=74*» 2.V, the ofhrr angle.
Now, av the sides of a ii iangle are to each otlier
as the sines of their opposite angles, we have,
sra. 74« 26' : sin. C/" 44' : : 240 : 2^0 579, &o.,
links. Philomath.
Question 20. Solidity of spliere, or the quantity
of water displaced by its immersion,
lHxl7-8 _,__._ ... .
: 27*648 cubic mcues ;
lUUO
consi
3 ^27*^148
eqnently, \X ~"5ifi— '*''*^'* inches, the re-
quired diameter.
Question 27. Solidilj of cnpper in apbcre,
~~uSm — "^"^^ eabic uiches;
hence, content of cavityc27-648— 3 072=24-^7^
cubic inches. .*. Diameter of ca\ity,
'2*-576 „,.,^
= 3-6072;
-V
•5236
and the thickness of the shell,
3-7510 -3-6072 ,,„^ . ^ ^ ^
a-0723 mchcs.— W. D.
Qties^'onll. Having inadTertmtly intro^Iuccd
an incorrect solution to this question. «e take the
present opportuni* y to offer a com ct one.
Since the price of standard gold at the Vint is
£3 178. lO'd. per ounce troy, it foUom's that tl."
price of 24 lb. avoinlupois may be foimd thu»:—
A9 4t<0 : 7000x24 : : £3 178. 6d : i:i3ti2 KvSd.
But standard gold contains 2 parts of ropprr to
22 of gold : whereas the gold in the qurMion con-
tains only 1 )>art of copper to 22 of gold: vbence
it follows tliat in the price found we havt tLr
price of 1 lb. of copper too much. Reckomug
this at 2s . the true answer will be,
£1302 16s. 3d.- 2s. » £1362 14s. 3d.
QUESTIONS FOR SOLUTION.— V.
38. How many pairs of ladies' hoots, at 4s. 6d.
per pair, can I obtain for 48 dozen hose, at 8^
per dozen ?
39. A castle wall is 37 feet high, and the ditch b
front 20 f<ret n ide. Ketiuir^d the length uf a Isildv
tbat Kh-ill reach the top of the wall over the ditck.
40. My bookseller allows me 121 1***!* ctnt dis-
count. How much shall I receive oia of a (ail
01 i:37 15s.»d.?
41. A square fkrm contains 194*25635 acres.
What is Uie length of the side ?
A-2. A circular tank, wbo^e pre.<eut diameter t>
12 feet, is intended to be increayed to three tizBCS
its preKent dimension*!, without increasing it*
depth. What will iu diameter then be T
43 An equilateral triangular court, whose fik
is .5;) feet, is t>eing paved at an expense of 2».3^4.
per foot. What will be the cost 7
44. Find t« o numbera. such that their differeacr
multipl ed bjr the greater equals three times theL'
sum multiplied by the less, and on«> more.
45. Given, a side 976 links, and two angles si-
jacent (36* 30* and 78« 45'). to find the area of s
triangle.
46. It is reqnired to strike a circle endosing a
rood of land. Required the length uf the cord.
Jlotirrs of %mh.
Christianity and Secularism. Re)ioi t ol a Pub-
lic Discussion between the Rev. Bn win Grant.
B.A., and George Jacob Uoiyoake, Esq. Lou-
don : Waj d and Co.
This ia a verbatim report of tn \mnoT\fcnl d\«cus.
aioD recently lieJd in London. d\»u\\n Ax. ♦ww*.
-i ■¥•! .ll.. : aU.. ....<>..t;nirv » VC.»v\t^
in its Place?" The report, trnving beta md ^ •
both disputants, is now published m ith tbeir joiot ',
consent, and very properly sent forth to tbe »oiil
*' without note or comment." Tliouglitiul nm
who «ish to investigate ibfia aalg*et nay bow
quietly sir down, take np the TQlun>e beDsrs as. j
c«T«\v\Vs v«v«.ntte the ai^unem of each speakrr
•/Cliristiudiy tod the 8ubMlXutJkO& «l lb«c»\MVKm\ aa^^x«M^«««^^
illlttorit.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "XHE ART OP REASONING."
No. XIX.— FIGURATIVE EXPRESSION— confmw^J.
The irJiote logical contents of a thonght are not often verbally expressed. To make the
signs of thought completely exponential of all that passes through the mind is wholly
impossible. No imaginable rapidity of utterance could effectuate that. The instrument
of vocalization — capable as it is of producing an almost infinite variety of sounds, and of
enunciating them with swiftness and inimitable beauty — is far, very far, from possessing
the power of expressing, with perfect adequacy, the vast variety of ideas which flash their
radiance through the mind, or of indicating tlie more than lightning speed with which they
pass before the mental vision. Hence originate grammnticul and logical elisions. T/tei/e
are means employed to increase the speed of thought-utterance. Nor are these unnecessary;
or, " regarding language as an apparatus of symbols for the conveyance of thought, we
may say that, as in a mechanical apparatus, the more simple and the better arranged its
parts, the greater will be the eflect jnroduced. In either case, whatever force is absorbed
by the machine is deducted from the result. A reader or listener has, at each moment,
but a limited amount of mental power available. To recognize and interpret the symbols
presented to him requires part of this power; to arrange and combine the images suggested
requires a farther pdrt; and only that part wliich remains can be used for the realization
of the thought conveyed Hence, carrving out the metaphor that language is
the vehicle of thought, there seems reason to think that, in all cases, the friction and
inertia of the vehicle deduct from its efficiency ; and that in composition the chief, if not
ike sole, thing to be done, is to reduce this friction and inertia to tbe smallest possible
amount."* Even with the aid of various kinds of elisions, however, it seems impossible
ever to secure an adequate and complete logical harmony — a perfect equation — between the
thoughts to be expressed and the language used for theur expression.
The Intellection, however, is not the only collection of powers from whose operations
elisions result; the emotional faculties also exert their influence in lessening the precise
and adequate expression of thought in words. The appetites are intermittent, the feelings
unstable and volatile, the affections often inconstant, and the passions hasty and impatient.
Speech ought to symbolize all these changes in all their various degrees of modification. As
tbe pulse of the Emotions does not always beat equally, the language which they suggest
ought to be similarly unequal. These active and hurrying impulses launch forth their
words with precipitation; the words employed ought therefore to be short — the sjllables
brief and surcharged with meaning. Only tbe principal ideas arc expressed; the mind
has then neither patience nor leisure to attend to minntia.
The above remarks seem to us to embody the reasons why decrementive figures of speech
♦ " Wetuniaster Review," October, 1852— article," rixV.oiO^Vi^ ol ^\lV..**
U
242 KllETOlUC. — so. XIX.
exist; in treating, therefore, of these figures, it will be necessary that we retain the
geueral principles above enunciated in remembrance, in order that we may perceive their
relation to the necessities of miud from which they originate.
I'lGURES OK Intklixct. Spccits I. — Dea'ancntlce.
1. Ellipsis is a figure in wh.ch we omit some words of a sentence which are requisite t /
complete tbi sense and the construction. It is either Grammatical, whose cud is iiie:\
brevity, or Khetorical, in which it is indicative of rapidity of emotion; thought is uttcnl
as it were incoherently; no pains are taken to show the train of associations which connc.:
the ideas. The following example from Byron will illustrate this: —
*' It is not tJiat I may nut have incurred,
Yox my auce>lrul luulu, or mine, the wound
I bkeJ uiihol; and, Uutl it bet-u conferred
Witli a just weapon, it bad flowed unbound;
But now my blood !>hall not sink in the ground ;
To thee I do devote \i—thou t-halt take
The veii|^<:>uiice which bhall yet be sought and found.
Which if I have not taken for the sake
But let that pass 1 sleep, but thou shale yot awake."'
2. Asyndeton. — In this figure words arc precipitately heaped and huddled tJ^ttLrr.
without the conjunctions which ought to be employed to connect them. Either the intdlec'
is in fear lest it shunld, perchance, omit any topic which ought to be considered, or tb.
emotions, hurrying it on, allow not of the calm rehearsal of the several items of thouclit;
thus, riz.: —
'* Think you saw what past at our last parting;
Thiitk you beheld hiiu like a rugiug lion,
racing tlie earth, and tearing up his steps,
Vrtte ill his eyes, and roiiriug with the pain
Of burning fury ; think you saw his one hand
Ir'ixcd on my throat, whilu the extended other
Grasped a keen, threatening dagger, • •
• • * • and at my l>o.«om
Presented horrid death ; cry'd out, " My friends I
Where ai-e my friends ?" surore, wept, rtujed, threat furd, lorcd
—For he net tuvedr Otvcay's *• Venice Prtifirt-i."
3. Anacoluthon, or Metabasis, is the transition from one kind of syntactic structure *.
another, thus at once indicating a change of feeling, and giving cmpha&is to the eiur^.-
hion. The following extract from Butler's " Iludibras'* alludes to this figure: —
" When he happened to break off
In the middle of hit speech, or coup^h.
He had hard words ready to show why,
And tell what rules be did it by."
Ac example will more clearly explain what this fgure does: —
** A sar ^.8 tremblin? on the hcrizons rerge;
7 Lat sar shall troaden oa the uight,
Until it !.ang •Uuue and bcr.utiful
Kl
RHETORIC. — mo, XIX* 343
Iq the proud senith —
Might I so broaden on tlie skies of Fame ! "
'*A Li/e Ihrama,'* by A. Smith.
4. Ai>osiopcsis employs concealment, or silence, to lieightcn the idea by leaving it vaguely
rnunclated, so that imager ination may be called io to fill op the outUnc of the thought. This
figure is very much in use among those who are
" Skilled by a touch to deepen scandal's lints
Willi all the kind mendacity of hints.
While, mingling truth with falsehood — sneers with smiles —
A tliread of candour with a web of wiles —
A piain, blvnl show of bru'Jly-tpoktn Meeminy,
To hide their bloodless heart's soul-hardened scheming."
Thus Marwoi^L, in Sliirley's Tragi- comedy, " The Wedding," introduces the odious false-
hood by which he blasts the hopes of Beauford and Gratiana by the following instanee of
Aposiopesis, viz. : —
'• ^larnrood. Death is
A mockery to that divorce I bring.
Come, you must not luve her.
Beauford. Did I hope thou couldst
Give me a reason, I would a&k one.
Martrood. Do not I
It will too toon an he and make you eunr
Your knowledge. Couldsl thou ehatige thy tetttper
For an angel $, at the hearing of this ream/i,
'T would make thee pauionate and turn wan again."
0. Ilyperbaton signifies a transposition of words from their usual grammatical or logical
order, that tlicj nuy have greater effect by being placed in these unospcctcd relations j
thus, vi::. : —
" What tho* first
In years unseasoned, I attained t!ie lay
To idle passion and unreal woe ?
Yet serious Truth her empire o'er my song
Hatli now asserted ; FaUehood'x ecil broud,
lice and deceitful Pleasure, »he at once
Excluded, and my fancy's careless toil
Drew to the better cause." Akentideg ** Pleasures t*f Imagination."
f>. Synoethroesmus is the hurrj'ing together of a multiplicity of wortls without apparent
order, as if the mind had no time or inclination to take a regular sur^'cy of the whole
calmly; thus, viz.: —
** GoJ I there are
Wliu qiiit lliy sun, tby sk'ies, and the green errtb^
The stir, the animation of this tvorlJ,
Friendship, and love's sweet eztacy — which Ia.»t
In heaven itsell were still a secottd h( avm —
To shut them in dark walls, and talk to thee—
To thee— God of The Bi autiful— in groans :
Oh, *lls the devil's sin, sullen rebellion,
Or pitiable madness ; either way
A fate mtolcrable.- W. Smith's •" Sir TTm. Chrichto^i."
244 RHETORIC. — NO. XIX.
There is in the following passage from Milton's " Paradise Lost," book iii., a combination
of synoethroesmua, with a figure afterwards to be mentioned, Polysyndeton: —
•* Thus with the year
Seasons return ; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or room,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose.
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine :
But doud instead and ever-during dark
Surround me!"
Figures of Intellect. Specks II. — Antithetic.
The antithetic fignres depend upon the perception of contrasts, and are originated by the
law of the association of ideas. The pleasure we derive from them results from the extra-
employment which the faculties of the mind receives; this agreeability being heightened It
the one idea contributing excitement to two opposite faculties.
1. Enantiosis is the expression of an opposition of meaning in such a manner that tlie
words also stand opposed to each other, cither in signification or in order; thus, yIz.:-^
" A fool to pleasure, yet a slave to fame :
Now deep in ♦* Taylor" and " The Book of Martyrs,"
Now drinking citron witti his grace and Chnrtres ;
Now conscience chills her, and now paKsiuu burns,
And atheism and religion take their turns;
A very heathen in tlie carnal part,
Tet siill a sad, good Chiistiau in her heart."
Pope's " Moral Euayt,^ II.
2. Antanaclasis is the use of one word having different meanings in such a way tb»t
the one meaning is antithetic to the other, «. g., " Care only for those things which descrre
care /" " Learn some craft when young, that you may do without craft when old.**
3. Antimetabole assigns two antithetic words, or phrases, as correlative parts of one H-ti-
nition, c. ^., " Painting is mute poetry ; poetry is eloquent painting."
4. Paradiastole is the antithesis of part of a word only, e.g., "Though now orrr-
whelmed, we are not orrrawed;" "That which we easily get, we as easily (orget.**
5. Synoeceiosis is the antithesis of two sentiments, by which both, although apparent/
^contradictory, are reconciled, e. g., " Forewarned, forearmed. Extremes meet."
" Men might be better if we better deemed
Of them. The worst way to improve the world
Is lo condtmn it. Men may overget
Deltiilor. — net deMpair." *' Ftstus."
6. Paronomasia, or Pun, is the antithesis of words similar in sound, but difierent :2
sense, e. g, : —
" Chief Jutliee. Well ! the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy.
Fahtaff, He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in /ess.
Chi^ Justice, Your means are very slender, and your waste great.
Fatiloff. I would it were otherwise ; I would my means were greater,
And my uraitt i\evi^xct.
RHETORIC. — KO. XIX. 245
II. Figures of Imaqinatiok.
The imaginative faculty, and its modes of operation, have already occupied oar attention,
and we are on that account relieved from the necessity of doing more, just now, than
iiercly tracing, in oatlioe, the process by which these figures of speech arise in the mind
ind operate thereupon. In the earlier stages of mental development all things appear as
if seen by
" A winking lamp, that weakly strikes
The ttinbient air, scarce kindling into light."
(iradually, however, the power of the light increases, and the eye becomes more keenly and
critically observant. Relations begin to be discerned — ^similarities impress upon the mind
Ideas of sameness — analogies become perceptible — abstraction and generalization operate,
md idealisms of exquisite grace, beauty, and perfection, are formed within the mind. The
associative faculties recall other members of the same class of ideas, and the blended love»
llnesA of all gives gratification to the mentality.
Species I. — Resemblant,
In the affluence of its treasures imagination delights to pour out a profusion of analogies,
md seeks, by rich suggestiveness and the charms of diversity, to heighten the intellectual
pleasure which we derive from thought to the highest degree. Thus it is that, in the
sweet combination of ideas which imagination makes,
" Each gracelier seems than each, and each than each seems graoelicr/*
md all of them become " beautiful exceedingly.**
1. Simile is the comparison of two objects between which there is a real or fancied
resemblance. It may have, as its purpose, the instructing of the understanding, the pleas-
ing of the imagination, or the affecting of the emotions, and is thus explanatory, oma-
nentaljor pathetic; although it must still be remembered that the pleasure which it yields -
is primarily derived from Imagination. Bailey somewhere says,
" There's reason now and then in similes,"
ind we fancy he is correct. How beautifully, for instance, does Shelley, in his " Adonais,**
explain the influence of the deeds and conduct of men on their after- world condition in
these lines : —
** Lire, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains Uie while rudiance of eternity."
Locke, in this sentence, most exquisitely describes the failure of the human faculties
irhen age steals on them : " The minds of the aged are like the tombs to which they
ire approaching; where, though the brass and the marble remain, yet the inscriptions
ire effaced by time, and the imagery has mouldered away.**
The following similes commend themselves to our taste: —
" Cold, oh ! cold indeed
Were her fair limbs, and like a common weed
The seo-swcll took her hair." KeaU,
** Soon was he quieted to slumbrous rest,
• * * and as a willow keeps
A patient watch over the stream that oreei>s
i
S46 BHETORIC. — HO, XIX.
Windingly by it, so the quiet said
Held her in peace ; sp that a whbpcrtng blade
Of grass, n waildil giiat, a bee bustling
Dovm in the blue bellfl, or a wren light mslling *
Among sere leaves and twigs, might all be heard." KrmU.
" The world was cold,
And he v,cnt down like a lone ship at sea." A. Smifh.
" Thy sweet words drop upon the ear as soft
As rose-leaves on a ^-ell.** BaiUy'» " Frstvx."
" My bosom, like the grave, holds all queni-hed passions." lifl.
** Betn^een two worlds lift* hovers like n star
'Twist night and mom, upon the horizon's verge.
How little do we know that which we are !
How less what we may be ! " Byron.
Wc have been thus profuse in illustrating the simile, because it b not onlv- or.p of iLf
most frequent, but cue of the most important, of rhetorical figures.
We shall now mention a few cautions re;,'ardiDg the use of similes which, we tiiick
deserve mention. 1st. Similes should illustrate the subject, and for this purpose the pcints
of comparison should bo obvious. 2nd. Similes, unless when ridicule, c/)ntempt, or asj
of the other debasinfj passions are to be excited, ought to be drawn from objects which arf
beautiful, dignified, or important. 3rd. Similes should be instituted bcttreen objects of
different kinds. 4th. Similes ought to be rery sparingly used in impassioned language.
2. Allegory is a figure in which we rehearse a story or description under which a roeiuh
ing is veiled different from that tvhich appears on the surface. We cannot do better than men-
tion some of the choicest allegorios in the English language, viz., Spenser's ^ Fairy Qoeenr
Bunyans " Pilgrim's Progress," Swift's *' Tale of a Tub," D. Jerrold's " Chranicks of
Clavemook,'* &c The scriptures abound in allegories ; and amongst onr English Eseajists
many splendid examples of this figure may be founiL Space will not permit ns to make
quotations. In allegory, the literal and figurative signification ought not to be inconsisteotlr
mingled.
3. Metaphor is a simile not formally stated — a figure in which we apply language wfaieh
is, strictly speakmg, true only of the object to which we compare another to the object
compared to it, c. g. : —
" That time of year thon mayest in me behold
When yellow leaves, or noue, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me ttion seeat the twilight of such day
As after sunset fiideth in the west,
A'Hiich by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest"
Sktikspeare. Sonnet LXXIIl.
** Prayer must be animated. The arrow that would pierce ttie clouds moat part finom the bent bow
and the strained arm."—" World nithout Souh."
The following cautions apply to metaphors: — 1st The resemblanct should be erident;
Deitber too far fetched nor too ^oftieralXi «£ i^t^fneialion. Snd. Congniitj ought to be
RHETORIC— NO. XIX. 247
observed, drd. Heterc^ndoos metaphors oaglit not to be multiplied in speaking of the
same object. 4th. The expressions employed ought to be literally applicable to the com-
pared object.
4. Catacbresis is an abuse, or a carrying to excess, of the metaphor, to express even
greater emotional ardour iban ordinary metaphor, e. g. : —
" This moment I could scatter
Kinpdoms like half^uce. I am drunk with joy.
This is a rojral hour— the top of life." A. Smith*
5. Hyperbole. — Emotion exaggerates, and, in liypcrbole, it magnifies the greatness of the
external objects, in order that it may adequately represent the feelings of the mind. It
heightens the object to make it resemble what would raise the emotion, e.g.: —
" Ilunting the bnek,
I foinid him sitting ly the fountain's side.
Of which he borrowed some to quench his tliirst,
And paid the nymph as much aijain in tears."
Beaumont and Fletcher's " Philaster,'*
" The mind of England's Elizabeth was like one of those ancient Druidical monuments, called
rocking-stones. The finger of Cupid, boy aa he is painted, could put her feelings in motion; but the
power of HtrculeM could not have destroyed their equilibrium." — Keniltcorth.
Cautious: — 1st. Hyperb<iles cnirht cliiefly to be used under the influence of emotion.
2iid. They should be succinctly expressed. 3rd. The mind of the reader or hearer ought
to be prepared, emotionally^ before using them.
6. Personifications not only gives vivacity to style, but supplies an outlet to overcharged
emotion. Sometimes, however, they are merely the frost-work pictures of Fancy. In
petrsonificatlon we bestow life and intelligence on inanimate objects. In Giles Fletcher's
" Christ's Victwy in Heaven" there are some fine specimens of this fignre; sec, especially,
bis " Justice," e. g. : —
" She was a virgin of austere rrpnrd ;
Not as the world esteems her, blind and deaf;
But a* the eacle, that hath oft compared
Her eye with Heaven's, so, and more brightly, <ihines
Her lamping sight ; for she tlie same could wind
Into Uie solid heart ; and with her ears
The silence of the thought, loud-speaking, hears;
And in one band a pair of even scales she wears.'*
Farther examples may be plenteoualy foimd in Milton, Thomson, Spenser, Byron, Cole-
ridge, Shelley, &c.
Caution : — Fantastic and trifling circnmstactialities ought not to be unnecessarily intro-
duced into personifications.
7. Vision places the object, or action, on which thought is to be employed, before our
eyes, and represents it as taking place within sight, e. g.: — " The foe came on like a storm.
The mingled sound of death arose. Man took man; shield met shield; steel mixed its
beams with steel. Darts hiss through the air; spears ring on mails; swords on broken
bucklers bound."— i/aepA«rMm*« " Ossian,"* See Southey, Scott, Campbell, Shdlej, Jamtt
Montgomeiy, &c., for numerous examples.
248
IS THE BAPTISM OF IKFAKT3 A PRACTICE
8. Apostrophe addresses the absent, or dead, as if present or alive, the inaniinate as if
living, or tarns from the logical order of thought to address the person, or thing, spoken
cf, e.g. I —
" O gnntle sleep,
Nature's soft mir«e, bow have I frighted thee.
That Uiou no more wilt weisrh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulncss."
" Ohy you leaden messengers.
That ride upon the violent speed of Jire^
Fly with false aim ; pierce the still moving air,
That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord !"
Shakspeare.
Ibid.
Caations: — Ist. Do not overload apostrophe wth ornament, nor carry it too far; tempcT
into harmony with the emotion which excites the imagination. 2nd. Never employ it
unless under the influence of strong emotion.
We shall conclude the consideration of Figurative Expression in next issue.
IS THE BAPTISM OF INFANTS A PRACTICE IN HAKMONY WITH THE
SCRIPTURES ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
"'Twixt truth and error tliere's this difTcrence
knov\'n.
Error is fruitful, truth is only OKE."—Herriek.
" More proselytes and converts use f accrue
To/alse penuosious than the right and true ;
For error and mistakes are infinite,
AVhilu truth has but ONX wat to be i' tiie right"
liuthr.
We rejoice that the terms of the present
qnestion limit the debate to scripture evi-
dences and clear inferences to be drawn
from them, as this will tend to divest it of
the many irritating and unpleasant phases
which the Baptist controverby has assumed
throughout the whole history of the church.
We most cordially endorse the sentiment that
•< • • • in the congress of opinions, the bust-
ling hi:;h<\'ay of intelligence.
Each roan should ask of his neighbour, and
yield to him again conce&Moa ;"
and by no means would we give first place
to any in the advocacy of individual right in
the matter of opinion ; but where a positive
precept prescribes the path of duty to the
Christian, we feel bound ourselves to obey,
and to endeavour to persuade others to do
likewise. In the words of the late Dr.
Carson, "I press my views on my brethren:
if I succeed, I do them service; if I fail, I
di^bArge my duty, but have no ca.\]k&ft of
complaint against them. They are not ac-
countable to me, and it is the es:»ence of
Popery to aissnme any authority but that ul
argument. In the tield of battle I ^rike
in earnest; but even then it is the argaments,
or the talents, or the harmony of my op-
ponent, at which I aim. I never judge the
heart! I am nnited in heart with all who
are united to Christ."
I would premise that great care shonld be
used in the definition of terms — the right
understanding: of forms and customs; as,
"Terms ill defined, and forms raisunderslood.
aud customs, where their reasons arr na-
known.
Have stirred op many zealous souls to figbt
against imaginary giants."
These it must be our care to avoid ; and if
to this bo added a prayerful inquiry ao4
teachable spirit, doubtless we shall arrive si
the truth more satisfactorily than by an
exciting and party-spirited course. We
prefer applying the investigative process to
this question rather than the do^atic, as it
tends to lead the mind witii more bcoominj;
willingness to a ri;;ht acceptance of the |h^
ceptive evidence of the holy scriptures. The
subject of our present inquiry is historical —
, is a fact or actual event not known to as by
t'-^
Ur HARMONY WITH THB SCRIPTURES ?
249
personal obeerration — ^in support of the
affirmation that such an event has taken
place according to the terms of the question,
and within the limits prescribed we search
for evidence, which must arise from either
(Jtcine jrreceptf human teittmony^ or other
facU^ whence an inference may be drawn of
sufficient validity to decide between preju-
dice and inclination, and impose implicit
obedience.
The origin of baptism is far anterior to the
time of our Saviour, and his precursor, John.
It was a custom prevalent among the Jews,
from the time of the Babylonish captivity, of
receiving all proselytes into the synagogue
as proi^elytes by baptism, therein figuring to
the candidate his past impurity and cere-
monial sinfulness, his present separation
and death to the system of idolatry, his
preparation for, and adoption of, the living
truth and purer worship of the one only
living and true God. This view of bap-
tism is supported by many highly revered
men, among whom we find Selden, Light-
foot, Dr. Doddridge, and Dr. Gill. It is
observed by these good men, and also many
learned Jews, that the foundation for this
practice is to be found in such passages
as Lev. siv. 9, and Xumb. six. 19, where
it will be perceived that to wash and haOie
the whole body in water by the unclean
person himself was necessary to ceremonial
purity; the essential ideas evolved in tlie
ceremony being — a personal knowledge of im-
purity, the necessity of extraneous means of
purification, the separation from pollution,
and the attainment of a purer condition, as
necessary for fraternal intercourse with the
children of God. Thus the same ideas are
manifested in the two cases — the baptism or
bathing of the proselyte from the heathen
world, and the purification of the polluted
Jew. In the latter case, circumcision had in-
variably preceded, by many years, the act of
baptism or bathing for ceremonial purifica-
tion; and in the former it not unfrequcntly
preceded or accompanied the rite; indeed,
i mmediately before the coming of John the
Baptist, it became a general rule to cir-
cnmcise and baptize all proselytes to the
Jewish faith.
We learn in Matt. iii. 1, 2, 6—1 1 ; Mark
i. 4 — 8; Luke iii. 3 — 7, that John the Bap-
tist, on his entrance to bis ministry, came
preaching, in the wilderness of Judea, the
baptism of repentance for the remission of
sins, and the necessity of a purer life. When
the hypocritical Pharisees, the presumptive
Sadducees, together with other notoriously
wicked persons, presented themselves as
candidates for baptism, he distinctly and
emphatically declared the necessity for a
voluntary repentance for the sins of the past.
He required proofs of the sincerity of that
repentance, and of theur purpose to live a
reformed life for the future, a fleeing from
the wrath to come, and a laying hold of the
truth — duties which are evidently impUed in
the words, 0 generation of vipers, who hath
warned you to flee from the wrath to come?
Bring forth therefore fruits mttt for (worthy
oj] 01' in proof of,) repentance.
From the tenor of tlie gospel we infer that
many of the immediate followers of our Sa-
viour were not baptized, although at an early
period of his minbtry he made this ordinance
the initiation into his kingdom, John iji. 5>
22 ; iv. 1, 2. After his resurrection he com-
missioned his disciples in these words: — "All
power is given unto me in heaven and in
earth. Go ye therefore, and teach all nations,
baptizing them in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:
teaching them to observe all things what-
soever I have commanded yon: and, lo, I am
with you alway, even unto the end of the
world. Amen," Matt, xxviii. 18 — 20; or,
as Mark expresses it : — " Preach the gospel to
every creature. He that believeth and is
baptized shall be saved ; but he that believeth
not shall bo damned," Mark xvi. 15, 16.
How the apostles understood and obeyed this
precept we find by perusing the masterly
oration of Peter on the day of Pentecost.
He eutreated his hearers to listen, while he
declared to them " the truth as it is in Jesus.*'
On hearing his recital, they were " pricked
in their heart," and said, " Men and brethren,
what shall we do?" The simple reply of
the man of God was — '^ Bepent, and be bap-
tized every one of you in the name of Jesus
Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall
receive the gift of tlie Holy Ghost. For the
promise is unto you, and to your children,
and to all that are afar off, even as many as
the Lord our God shall call. . . . Then they that
gladly received his word were baptized," Acts
ii. 37— -4 1 . When PhiUp planted the church
in Samaria, a similar course was observed,
for " Philip went down to the city of Samaria
250
IS THE BAPTISM OF INFANTS A PRACTICE
and preacbetl Christ unto them. And the
people witli one accord gave heed nnto those
things which Philip spake, and there was
great joy in that city;" and, notwithstanding
they had in former time given respect and
paid reverence to Simon the sorcerer as the
great power of God, "when they believed
Philip preaching the things concerning the
kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus
Chriht, thpy were baptized, both men and
women," Acts viii. 5 — 12. After these events
Philip, being directed by an angel to journey
toward the south, on the road from Jern<*alem
to Guza, fell in with an Ethiopian eunuch
of groat authority under queen Candace; he
found him reading the prophecy of Isaiah,
and inquired if he understood the words of
the prophet. The Ethiopian acknowledged
his difficulty. When Philip "began at the
same scripture, and preached unto him Jesus,"
his iilumboring convictions were awakened,
and .he said, '* What doth hinder me to be
baptized? And Philip said, If thou believest
with all thine heart, thou mavest. He an-
awcrcd, I Ivlieve that Jesus Christ is the
Son of God." Then "they both went down
into tin water, and Philip baptized him,"
Acts viii. 20—39. When Paul and Silas
were cast into the prison of Philippi, the
prison-keeper, being convinced of tlie mira-
culous interposition of God for the preserva-
tion of his servants during the earthquake of his devout servants from every natioo,aDd
iv. 1 ; that Peter baptized such as ** gladlj
received tlie word," Acta ii. 41 ; that Philip
baptized at Samaria such as believed the
truths he taught respecting the kingdom of
God and his Chiiat, Acts viiL 12; that
Peter baptized at Cesarea such as had re-
ceived the Holy Ghost, Acts x. 47; and
that Paul, at Philippi and Corinth, liaptized
those who had heanl, believed, and rejoiced
in God, Acts xvi. 32 — 34 ; xviii. 8. Uithertc
we have only met with inquirers, hearer?,
believers, and rejoicing onen, both men and
women, but no infants, as the subjects of
baptism, neither under the ancient Jewijtfa
dispensation, during the advent of John th«
Bapti.st, the ministry of the Messiah, nor ia
the times of the apostles. Lest it nuy be
thought we have evaded one portion of the
scriptural evidence on this subject, upas
which great stress is laid by our paedo-
baptist brethren, we will continue oor obser-
vations in that direction. The passages of
scripture considered by the advocates of
infant baptism to bear upon the subject, sad
to which they attach considerable impor-
tance, are the following: — " Lydia was bap-
tized, and her howtekoid^ Acts xvi. 15; tbe
Philippian jailer " was baptized, and aU hk,
straightway," Acts xvi. 33 : Paul ** baptized
also the household of Stephanns,'* 1 Cor. L
16. When Peter spoke of God's acceptance
which had occurred that night, he was
assured of the divine mission of his two pri-
soners, and, rushing into their cell, he threw
himself at their feet, anxiously inquiring for
instruction in the way of Falvation. The
apostles cheerfully responded, " Believe on
the I^rd Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved. And they spake unto him the word
of the Lord, and to all that were in his
bouse,** when " he was baptized, and all his,
straightway, believing in God, with all his
house," Acts xvi. 23 — 34. Also, when Paul
was at Corinth, labouring in his Master's
cause, " Crispus, the chief ruler of the syna-
gogue, believed on the Lord with all his
house; and many of the Corinthians hearing
believed, and were baptized," Acts xviii. 8.
The most superficial observar will not fail to
preached "peace by Jesus Christ* to Cor-
nelius, " to his kUutmen and near frimdi^
•*the Holy Ghist fell on them,'' and tber
who came with Peter "were astoaished;'
but Peter inquired, " Can any forbid water,
that these should not be baptized? Aad
he commanded them to be baptised in tin
name of the I^rd,*' Acts x. 47, 48. Asd
on the day of Pentecost, Peter also ssn^
" Be baptized every one of you in the name
of Jesus Christ for the remission o€ sins, sad
ye shall receive the gift ofthe Holy Ghost. For
the promise is unto you, and to yotcr cAtUrea,'
Acts ii. 38, 39. On one occasion oar Savioar
was teaching, when young children were
brought to him by his hearers, that be might
put bis hands upon them and bless them.
This displeased his disciples; bat 1m, ob>
remark that, in all the cases cited, believing [ serving their displeasure, said, ** Suffer Uttk
converts were the persons \>apl\7j^; awd the , children to come unto me, and forbid them
most skilful logician mnsl admit, i(i\wAwv\\NWcA., \s« oj iwiv Sa the kingdom of God,"
it may be, that oar b\ef»«^ KcAcemet ^^TttaA*\Uv>lV..xvT..\?iA^\'^\*f«^'«-^V\<-_V^Utft
««/ baptized more disciple* tbaxi 3oViTir ^^^^^^ '«"^^- ^^"^^ '^'^'^ ^^V«fe ^iaSi. ^wrwt* «
:n II \!;^:"\ V Willi in;
1 r\-\
•J." 1
sufli litl/>. clilUl ill my iiaiiio, nMrivntii me.'*
i^Apti^m being considered the initiative into
the christian ehnrch, as circumcision was
tbe initiative into the Jewi^h cfaarch, infant
baptizers refer with considerable confidence
to Col. ii. llf 12, where we find the apn^tle
writinpj ibns to C<>lot'se, ** In whom also (t. e.,
in Christ) ye nrf rirnimcisul with the cir-
camcitfion made wit/iout harnh, in pnttini^oif
the body of the sins of iho Htihh by the cir-
cnmciaion of Christ: buried with him in
haptiam, wherein alno ye are risen with him." '
These are the evidences we find in the sacred
flcriptares; and upon these, as advocates of
belic7er-bapti«m, we arc content to venture
oar reputation as conn^tent Christians and
reasonable men, while, with the moNt nn-
limited christian charitr, we feel bound by
the conscience which our God has given us
to speak, as we believe, tnitbfullj on this :
subject, up^n all occasions where opf)ortunity i
offers, so that others may be induced to I
adopt the same views of sacred truth from
siinilar convictions of duty.
We have said that this subject is his-
torical, and, as such, its alhrmation or
neiHition must be proved by suflfitient evi-
dence; we shall, therefore, proceed to the
analysis of that adduced. And first we shall ;
perceive that baptinm is not, in its origin, of
dirvct divine ordinance, for it existed in the
times of the prophets, and on the advent of
John the Baptist, as a peculiar adhibition of
the Jewish ceremonial of pnrificMtion; and,
tboagb it received more of authoritativeness
inm the pracdce of onr Saviour during his
ministry, it remained for the closing scene
of his terrenial labours to receive the solemn
sanction of a divine precept, when, after his
resurrection, and immediately before his
ascension, he commissioned his disciples to
preach the gospel to every creature, and bap-
tise every believer; thus making it the duty
of eveiy repentant sinner, believing in the
Lerd Jesus Christ for tlic remission of his '
sinSy to submit to the ordinance of bsptism.
See Mstt. xxviii. 19, SO; Mirk xvi. 15, 16.
While the terms of tlie commission are thus
mnUmited as to the duty of Christians to
teach all men, they are with great strictness
limited to the baptizing of believers only,
none hot believers being proper subjects for
christisn baptism accoiding to the terms of
the cmomiauon. \
Hanun teBtimotir on the present question j
if> v.li»ultllfri.s t'l" ;;r(Mt iiiij)ortai;re, wlicn the
witnesses are worthy of credibility, and their
evidence is properly authenticated ; but when
these witnesses were divinely inspired men,
"who spake as they were moved by the
Holy Ghost,** we receive their depot«itions as
divine, and equally binding upon Christians
with the precept contained in the Messianic
commission. In this cla« of evidence we
find the events of the day of Pentecost; the
tonrhin::: haranfrue of Peter to the assembled
Jews, which '* j>ricked them in their heart,"
mijjhtily movetl them in their inmost soul
with convictions of sin and the necessity of
forgiveness, which caused them in their dis-
tress to cry, "What shall we do?"— the
Samaritans' believing with great joy; the
eunuch believincj with nil his heart; the
Philippiau jailer l)eing l>aptised, believing in
God; Crispus, and the Corinthians* hearing,
believing, and being baptized. Are not these
events sufficiently clear and forcible as illus*
trations of the apostles' practising believer-
baptism ? Are the acts of hearing^ under'
standing, giving heed to the word preached,
repenting, believing, rejoicing in God^ the
attributes of infancy? Surely not. They
are the acts of mature age, and imply the
possession of a sufficiency of "thought-
power" and reflection to constitute the sub-
ject thereof a morally responsible being; yet,
as if to make assurance doubly sure, and
give no room for the captious and invidious
deviations of erratic spirits, the sacred his-
torian has emphatically mentioned the per-
sons engaged in these events as persons of
mature age, and subjects of moral and social
responsibilities, from the nature of the duties
performed by them and the offices they
filled; for we are told they were "devont
Jews from eveij nation under heaven,** Acts
ii. 5. One was ** an eunuch of great autho-
rity under Queen Candace," Acts viii. 27;
another was "a centurion of the Italian
band," Acts x. 1 ; another was ** a certain
woman named Lydia," Acts xvi. 14; then
there was " Crispus, the chief ruler of the
synagogue,** Acts xviii. 8 ; and " the keeper
of the prison at rhilippi,** Acts xvi. 27 ; with
other " men and" women,** Acts riii. 12 ; hut
nowhere is there any mention of infants; no
proof, direct or indirect, of the baptism of
infants, is afforded by the scci^^T^a. V{^
may be asked Yvow wt aicQcsniTvV V« ^C*a"V«^
tism of houschoVda? kc^^tXiwfc ttfi \tft.w^
252
IS THE BAPTISM OF INFANTS A PRACTICE
there? Our reply is simple, and without
equivocation or evasion; it is not in evidence
that the households mentioned contained or
included any children at aJU much less in-
fants ; on the contrary, the household of the
Philippian jailer, as well as himself, were
exhorted to believe as a necessary condition
of salvation. The word of the Lord was
spoken to all that were in his house ; and
lie rejoiced, believing in God, with all his
house. Here we learn that the inmates of
his house were exhorted to believe. They
heard the word, they rejoiced, and they
believed, Acts xvi. 31 — 34. The house of
Crispus believed equally with Crispus him-
self. Acts xviii. 8. The apostle "entered
into the house of Lydia ; and when Uicy had
seen the brethren^ they comforted them, and
departed," Acts xvi. 40. And although
Paul baptized the household of Stephanus,
the members of which this household was
composed '* were the first fruits of Achaia,
and they addicted themselves to the ministry
of the saints,'' 1 Cor. i. 15; xvi. 15. Hence
the members of the households mentioned
wure all in an equal condition of moral
responsibility with the heads of the honse-
Itolds. As individuals personally responsible,
they had to hear, understand, repent, believe,
and be baptized for themselves.
The circumstances of the day of Pentecost,
and Peter's application of the promises to the
.Jews and their children, are, in this respect,
irrelevant to our subject, because the promise
is of "salvation and remission of sins" to
you and your children, "as many as the
Lord our God shall call," Acts ii. 38, 39 ; as
many as shall be conformed to the image of
his Son, Rom. viii. 29 ; acd refers not to the
o/dinance of baptism, but to the change of
hexirt, a condition of which the infant is not
susceptible, because unconscious of its nature,
obligations, and consequences.
The advocates of believer-baptism would
by no means allow that children should not
be brought to Jesus to receive his blessing
in early life. Their practice is a plai;i
commentary upon their principles in this
respect ; for they anxiously place their own
children under the influence of the gospel in
early life, and they continually bear them in
the arms of faith before the mercy-scat of
God. They bring their little ones up in the
nurture and admonition of the Lord, with
the hope that in the spring-lime of life, when
the sweet blossom of intellectual and mini
bnocence first feels the taint of hmnu
depravity, when supposed {reedom from guilt
acknowledges with tears of penitence its need
of a Saviour, it may lay hold on the hope set
before it in the gospel, and find peace ssd
joy in believing. Their expansive hearts alss
yearn over the little ones whose parents and
sponsors have forgotten tiieir promises tad
obligations, and they gather them into the
sabbath school, to lead them to feel their
need of a Saviour, in whom they shoold be-
lieve and be baptized.
That baptism and circumcision are not in*
tcrchangeable or substitutionary from the
Jewish to the Christian dispensation, is eri*
dent from the fact that circnmcisioo co*
existed with the practice of baptism; tbit
in many instances during the ministry of
John the Baptist, our blessed Saviour, and
the apostles, the converts to Christiaaitf,
were circumcised in infancy and baptized ia
their maturcr years. Hence, to baptize ia*
fants, because infants were circumcised, ii
not christian baptism, but an aberration from
the truth, which originated in later time%
when it became a doctrine of the chareh
that baptism was necessary to salvadoa—
that it was an opns operandi, regeneratiBg
the subject thereof, and that children <ff
others who died without baptism were vnt-
trievably lost, a doctrine as pernicious as it
is false ; yet nevertheless it is considered bj
many learned men to have been the parat
of infant baptism.
We have endeavonred, as far as possible,
to make the holy scriptures speak their o«i}
truth upon this subject, confiding in tfat
power of the "word of truth" to teach tk
truth much better than any argument or
language we could produce. Our confident
is most unlimited in the decisive character
of this evidence in favour of our own vievi,
and we heartily believe it to be full and
complete in its power to settle the baptisnul
controversy, in whatever phase it may bt
presented to our consideration, without the
assistance or corroboration of uninspired tei-
timouy; yet, consistently with these vievS)
we with great pleasure refer to the opiaioBf
and practices of the church immediate
succeeding the apostolic age. Hagenbadit
in his " History of Doctrine,** toI. i. p. 207,
says: — " Infant baptism had not Gome ioto ,
'(general use prior to the tioM of Tertolliao; |
IN HARMONY WITH THE SCRIPTURES?
253
thmt father opposed piedobaptism on the
groand that those who have not committed
any actual transgression need no cleansing
from sin." The same writer observes, p. 210,
note 4, ** The passages from scriptare, which
are thought to intimate that infant baptism
had come into ase in the primitive church,
are doubtful, and prove ncthing, viz., Mark
X. 14 ; Matt, xviii. 4— 6 ; Acta ii. 38, 39, 41 ;
X.48; I Cor. i. 16; Col. ii. 11, 12. Nor
does the earliest passage occurring in the
writinj^s of the fathers (Irenceus, *Adv.
Ha?r.,* II., xsii.-iv. p. 147) afford any de-
ci.sive proof. It only expresses the beautiful
idea that Jesus was Redeemer m every stage
of life, and f(vr every stage of life; but it
does not say that he redeemed children by
the xcaUr of baptism^ unless the term renascl
be interpreted by the most arbitrary jy^ihio
jrrincipii to refer to baptism." Tertullian
allies the following reasons against infant
baptism: — The importance of baptism, the
consequent responsibility of sponsors, the
innocence of children, the necessity of being
instructed in religion previously, and the
great responsibility which the subject of
baptism takes upon himself. See Hagenbach,
Vol. i. p. 1 11. The words of Tertullian are,
" Let them (i. «., children — infants) come
when they grow up; let them come when
they learn; when they are taught whither
they are coming; let them become Christians
when they are able to know Christ Why
does the innocent age hasten to the remission
of sin? Men will act more cautiously in
worldly matters, so that to one to whom no
earthly substance is committed, that which
ia divine is committed. Let them know how
to asic for salvation, that thou mayest seem
to give to him that asketh. . , . They
who know the weight of baptism will rather
dreaii its attainmei;'. than its postponement;
a perfect faith is -^ccnre of salvation." See
Nirauder, ** Anligciiostikus," p. .'^37 Speak-
ing upon this quotation, Neandcr s.iys, pj.
337-8, " No doubt what Tertullian means to
say is this : — ^The catechumen has no cause
for hastening to baptism, so that he should
fear if death should overtake him before he
has received baptism, lest he should not be a
partaker of salvation; for where the right
cuth exists, and a person who has the desire
lo be baptized is prevented in a manner that
inrolves no blame on his part, he is certain
of his sahration in virtne of his faith." . • .
** Tertullian expresses himself as the uncon-
ditional antagonist of infant baptism too
sharply, and presupposes too distinctly the
necessary connection between faith and bap-
tism, to allow of our imposing such a limita-
tion on his language," as to suppose that he
admitted under any circumstances the neces-
sity of infant baptism. It is worthy of re-
mark, that Irenscus and Tertullian lived in
the latter half of the second century, and
there is some reason for believing that Ter-
tullian was living at the close of the second
century; hence, from the nearness of their
position to the apostolic age, great importance
is to be attached to their sentiments. Later
in the course of time, Gregory of Nazian/.en,
in the fourth century, although practising
infant baptism, writes concerning christian
baptism, giving it a number of different
names, carefully distinguishing it from tho
baptisms of Mooes and John. The following
is the principal thought expressed by him
upon this subject, on which this abundance
of names is founded : — " All the blessings of
Christianity appear concentrated in baptism,
and are dispensed, as it were, altogether in
one moment; but all these names can only in
so far be applied to baptism as the person to
he baptized possesses the right disposition^
without which none can enter into the king-
dom of heaven." — Ullmann, p. 461, quoted
in Hagenbach, vol. i. p. 388.
Ncander, speaking of the usages of the
Gentile Christians in the latter part of the
apostolic age, observes that, " Since baptism
marked tho -entrance into communion with
Christ, it resulted from the nature of the
rite that a confession of faith in Jesus as the
Redeemer would be made by the person to
be baptized As baptism was
closely united with a conscions entrance on
chriiitian communion, faith and baptism were
always connected with one another; and tlius
it is in the highest degree probable that
baptism was performed onl^ in instances
where both could meet together, and that the
practice of infant baptism was unknown at
this period. We cannot infer the existence
of infant baptism from the instance of the
baptism of whole families ; for the passage
(1 Cor. xvi. 15) shows the fallacy of such a
conclusion, as from that it appears that the
whole family of Stephanus, who were baptized
by Paul, consisted of adults. That not till
sj late a period as (at least certainly not
254
IS THE BAPTISM OF INFANTS A PKACTICE
earlier than) IreiUBUs, a trace of iufant bap-
tism appears; and that it first became recog-
nised as an apotitolic tradition in the*counie
of the third century, is evidence rather
against than Jbr the admission of its apos-
tolic origin." — ^"Planting of Chri»tiauity,"
ToL i. p. 163.
Dr. S. HindSf Bishop of Norwich, in his
*^Bise and Earlj Progress of Chri^tiaiiity,"
speaking on the establishment uf Christianity
in the apostolic age, observes, in apposition
with our riews, '^Baptism, first, is the
symbol of a covenant between two parties —
between the Christian and his Lord. On the
part of the Saviour, it was instituted as a
means by which j^race was given; and, as a
proof of this, in the primitive church it was
always, perhaps, accompanied by some extra-
ordinary gifts of the Spirit. On the part of
the redeetned^ it teas a pledge that he believed.
Thus, whon the eunuch requested to be bap-
tized by Philip, his answer is, * //*, thou be-
lievest with all thy hearty thou magesi.' To
the gaoler at Philippi St. Paul made the
same reply, when asked what was the requi-
site qualification to fit him fur admission into
the covenant of salvation, ' Believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ and thou slult be saved
(i. e.f made a Christian).' Baptism then
was, on the part of the Christian, the pledge
thcU he believed.'^ — " Kncycloptedia Mctro-
politana," Dis. IlL vol. v. pp. 65, 66.
We conclude, for the present, with a quo-
tation from the pen of the Rev. J. .Tac»bi. of
the University of Berlin, who suys, " Infant
baptism was established neither by Christ
nor the ajwstles. In all places where wo
find the neces»ty of baptiam notified, either
in a dogmatic or historical point of view, it
is evident that it was only meant for tbcM
who were capable (^comprehending tlie««rd
preached, and of being converted to Cbri»t
by an act of their own will. A pretty feoie
test of its non-esistence in the apo«tolic age
may be inferred from 1 Cor. vii. 14, sioM
Paul would certainly have referred to tbe
baptism of children for their holiness." He
further observes, that the strongest argument
in favour of infant baptism " is the re^nda-
tion of baptizing all the members of a h<ntsc
and family. In none of these instances has
it been proved that there were little children
among them; but, even supposin;^ that there
were, there was no necessity for t'lcluJioj;
them fnmi i>apti!>m in (lain words, since sach
exclusion was understood as a matter uf
course." — " Kitto's Biblical Cvclopwiki,"
vol. i. p. 287.
Permit me now, kind reader, to ask — if
" Truth lias but onf if ay to be i' ihe ri^t,"
and you will not qocstion this — 1$ the bsp*
tism of infants a practice in hannc^iy with
scripture, or with the faith and practice of
the upt>stolic^2e? Your reply will be. with-
out doubt, in the negtitive. for you are a lever
of truth; and alliiough inclination may be
thwarted, and the prejudict-s (>f educaliee
destroyed, your devotion to the sacred goddeei
will relieve you from the bond^ wherein «8t-
while you weie held, and, rpjoicing in libertj.
you will declare yourself the advocate el
believer-baptism, with your friend,
L'OUVRIEIL
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.- 1.
Wk find in the christian church that there • question at issue ; for, were the ecriptom
exist exceedingly diver&e opinions respecting to give an explicit statement on the sub*
many of the external rites and ceremonies of
religion, and we are therefore apt to imagine
tlut the Bible, which each party claims as
its authority, must enunciate different and
opposite views; but on examination we shall
find, that these diverse opinions do not arise
from any discrepancies in scripture, but
mainly from two other causes, viz., the
silence of scripture on those disputed points,
and the difierent interpretation which peraons
pat on the same portion of the Teve«icA nk^t^.
ject of baptism, there would never be uj
dispute with regard to it; or, if all penoM
were to form the same opinion rci>pectiB(
those portions of scripture relating to it, tiwi
also we should have an unity of beheH Bil
on minor pomts ^ripture is not thus explicit
and Christians di&agree. That their dis-
agreement on tins point has given rise t«
much contention and strife, we deeply regret;
and in di.ssussing this subject we would sis-
^t.^t«W desire to avoid all animoiuty oanelvei,
Tbcite two causes may fair\y \>ft a»»A^^»ft^ %a\ wv«i 'w^t ^wii^ ^s.^ \a ii>w ^-^^ooentc. Should
ike i«gAOA of the diveiBUy o£ tt^va\«i oa \.\ia\ ^ux ^T^gosawA* Wl n^ «(»L>\&K2^^^M^^«ft.V9i^
IN HARMONY WITH TliK SCltllTL'RES ?
255
yoa will feel the propriety of receivin;; the
opioions of othera with the same candoor and
respect as yoyi desire for your own.
We would at the onset remind our readers
that we have nothing to do with the mode
of baptism, or with any other difference of
opinion which may exist respecting it, but
merely as to its application to infants; we
shall, therefore, discard all extraneous dis-
putes, and confine ourselves as closely as
possible to the point at issue, hoping to b^
•• Free from the wnyward bias bigott feel —
From fAucy'ik iullueuce, aud iuUfui()erale zeal."
To the question, then, before us we can
bincerely p}\'e an alfirmative reply, so far as
to its applicaliou to the infants of believers;
because,
I. That they are members of the church.
To subtftantiate this, two considerations will
stifiice; iirst, the true church of God is the
same under all dispensations, and cbildren
were admitted mcmljers thereof under the
Jewish by the right of circumcision ; secondly,
the conduct of our Lord Jesus Christ towards
children hannonizes with this.
First. It is evident that, if we understand
by the church of GikI all those who have
been brought into spiritual relation with him
through Jesus Christ, it mu»t be one and
the same church under all dispensations.
Although Christ was not made manifest in
the flesh previous to the present disjiensa-
tion, it was through faith in him that the
Jews and patriarchs obtained pardon, and
became the servants and sons of God. lie
was tkear Redeemer; and it was upon the
provbion of his making atonement for their
sins that they became inheritors of the king-
dom of heaven. Through grace they were
saved, and grace never reigned otherwise
than through Cbriat Jesus. True religion
has always had the same God to worAhip,
the same Mcs^fiah as the object of faith, and
the same Spirit as the source of joy and
peace in believing man. Uence it must have
been the same church under all disf^ensa-
tions, however much it has varied in its
eternal rites and ceremonies. But it is true
that the chriatian dit^pensation is superior
to preceding ones, insomuch as that which
was promised is come, that which was
emblematical is real, and that which was
typical has had its consummation in the
^reat Antitype. When this dispensation was
e^stsblkted, suuay of the pncUctM connected
with Judaism assumed a different form, while
others ceased altogether, because the reas<m8
on which they were founded had ceased.
Among those wluch assumed a different form
may be mentioned public worship^ and the
change of the sabbath from the seventh to
the first day of the week, for neither of
which changes have we an express command;
also the change of the mode of initiation into
the church.
If, then, the church is the same under all
dispensations, it must necessarily follow that,
as children were members of the church
under the Jewish economy, they have equal
right to lie so now, unless the reasons for
their membership have ceased, or that they
have been excluded by express command.
We cannot believe that any true Christian
will assert cither. But, before making
such an assertion, we should inquire what
were the purposes of infant church member-
ship formerly? Among others, the following
may be mentioned: — 1. To consecrate them
from infancy to the work of God. 2. To
instruct them in the laws of their religi<H).
3. To instil into their minds the principles
of true religion. 4. To secure for them the
interests and cure of the church. These and
other equally important purposes were for-
merly hiid in view, and we would ask any
impartial reader. Have they ceased? Should
children be deprived of these privileges?
We think not. Their spiritual intcreats are
as important now as ever; and as God placed
them in such a favourable position fur the
cultivation and nourishment of pious prin-
ciples, admitted them to enjoy the high
privileges of his church, it is evidently a de-
traction from their just rights to ret.iin from
them the privileges granted them by God.
Nothing less than an express command from
the Lawgiver of Israel can justify us in so
doing; and wo have failed to find any such
Command in the pages of holy writ. Mot
only so; but,
Secondly, The conduct of our Lord Jesus
Christ towards diildren during his s«»journ
upon earth confinns us in our belief that
they were to continue members of the church.
When the dbciples rebuked the affeciionate
parents that brought their children to him,
he was displeased, and he censured them for so
doing, and nttercMl that meuM>rable sentence^
" Suffer Utl\e cbWditu \» wwsvri ^\iV^ \»*^«Ai
forbid them wt, i« ol WL«^\a >jBfc ViBS^«»
£56
IS THE BAPTISM OP I9FAKTS VK HARMOHT WITH THE SCRIPTURES ?
of heaven." Were they to be disconnected
from his cbnrcb, it is natnral to suppose that
he would have intimated it then, instead of
implying quite the opposite by his conduct
and remarks. It is thus evidently implied
that children are proper members of the
churchi and that they should enjoy its pri>
Tileges; if not, would it not be very incon-
sistent in Jesus Christ to set up a child — an
improper member — as a model for others?
If the qualification possessed by the child
was necessary to be exemplified in the man,
in order to render the latter fit for church
membership, then it must hare the same
effect upon the former, else the model to be
resembled is unfit, while the resembler is fit^
which is rather illogical.
If, then, they are proper members of the
church, why should they not be introduced
by the outward mark of consecration ? If it
is proper to consider them as the lambs of
his fold, why should they not be marked by
this solemn rite? If Jesus considered them
as fit for his kingdom, why should we enter-
tain a different opinion, and refuse tliem
admission through baptism? And if the
conduct of the disciples was repugnant to
the sacred and affectionate feelings of the
Saviour then, is not similar conduct equally*
80 now?
II. The commandment of Jesus Christ
respecting baptism fairly comprehends the
children of believers among those to whom
the rite should be administered. This is
not a forced interpretation, but is the most
natnral one that can be put upon it ac-
cording to just rules of interpretation; for,
if we only place ourselves in the same position
as our Lord and his disciples occupied at the
institution of the rite, we shall immediately
perceive that the language conveys such a
meaning. And it must be allowed that this
is the best method of ascertaining the im-
port of any assertion or commandment.
It is well known that Christ and the
apostles — the commissioned messengers of
God to establish the christian dispensation —
were Jews, and therefore accustomed to the
laws and usages of the Jewish people; so that
whatever commission they might receive,
they would unhesitatingly understand it in
the sense most natural and obvious to them,
unless they were told to the contrary. When
the Great Teacher was about taking his de-
fartore from among them, we find him com-
manding them to " Go and teach all nation^,
baptizing them in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."
The word "teach" in this place properly
signifies to proselytise or convert, so that the
verse in its proper signification would be
thus: — "Go and make proselytes of all
nations, baptizing them in the name of the
Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost." Now, the Jews having been accus-
tomed to make proselytes, the command con-
tained nothing new to the disciples, farther
than, instead of proselytising the Gentile to
the Jewish religion, they had now to prose-
lytize Jews as well as Gentiles to Christianity,
without any distinction in their liberties t^r
blessings. When the Jews succeeded in
making a proselyte, it was well known thai
he and his seed had invariably to underiro
the rite of circumcision, and, according to tl.i
most satisfactory evidence, they had al^o to
be baptized. If, therefore, we place onrselrt^s
under similar circumstances, thoroughly
familiar with such usages, and perfectlr
acquainted with such customs, should we not
naturally infer from the wording of the com-
mission that it implied the same mode of
action towards the proselytes as formerly,
without excluding their seed from ha^'ioi;
the right of baptism administered to them?
As proselytes and their children were f^v-
merly set apart by being circumcised ani
baptized, is there anything in the commis-
sion the disciples received that would kaJ
them to suspect that children were not to be
set apart as formerly by the same rite as
their parents? The want of an express
command for the baptism of children U bj
no means a valid objection, as there are many
other things in the church which rest npT.
the same foundation. There is no command-
ment for the change of the sabbath from the
seventh day of the week to the first ; but oar
friends would not say therefore we sbouU
not observe the first. Keither is there any
command for female communion ; but we feel
confident that they would not therefore wi^
to abolish it. Why, then, do they ins>i^
upon having a diroct command for the bip-
tism of infants, while it rosts upon the same
basis as the foregoing; and, indeed, has moch
stronger evidence in its favour than tLer
have?
Again. For the sake of aigumenk, let us
for a moment lose sight of the fact that pru-
' *-l
IS AK ATTEMPTED INVASION OF ENGLAND PROBABLE ?
257
leljtes had been formerly baptized, as itoroe
}f oar friends on the other side think the
svidence not decisive, and let us suppose that
the disciples, after receiving the commissioa,
entertained a doabt as to the application of
baptism to infants in consequence of our
Saviour omitting to mention them, would not
the following Reasoning be natural? "Oar
divine Master has commanded us to go and
make proselytes of all nations, baptizing
diem, &c. ; but in so doing ho has not been
so explicit as we could wish, not mentioning
a word concerning the children of those who
become proselytes; we therefore feel ourselves
in a dilemma as to what course to pursue,
whether should they be baptized or not?
we have been accustomed, though, to pro-
selytism, and when we proselyted any to
Judaism, we had invariably not only to cir-
cumcise the adults, but also their children ;
and, as he has not mentioned any restriction
different from our former custom, we there-
fore shall adopt the old method, and allow
infants to enjoy the same privilege as for-
merly, for why should we restrict when he
has not commanded us to do so?'* We would
by no means assert that they did thus reason
within themselves ; but we merely show that
this was the most natural way for them to
decide the question, had they entertained a
doubts. But, indeed, so far as we can see,
they had no reason to halt for a moment
between two opinions; because, accustomed
as they were to infants being admitted to
the privileges in the church, together with
the solicitude and affection evinced by Jesus
towards them, they would not hesitate for a
moment as to allowing their continual parti<
dpation in religious blessings.
Again. Supp(xsing that Christ had com-
manded them to go and make proselytes of
oU nations, and, instead of instituting bap*
tism, had continued the practice of cir-
cumcision, with the addition that it should
be performed in the name of the Father, and
of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, is it not
evident that they would ha^w circumcised
the children of the proselytes as formerly?
Or suppose that he had enjoined circumcision
in addition to baptism, is it not equally evi-
dent that they would not be more restricted
in the application of baptism than of circum-
cision? Why, then, should we surmise that
they would restrict baptism, when it alone is
commanded ? To suppose any such thing is
certainly contrary to reason, and is not sup-
ported by holy writ. Their familiarity with
the religions customs of their country, then,
and the circumstances wherein they were
situated, precludes our insinuating that they
would infer baptism to be thus limited, unless
Christ expressly said that it was, and this it
is well known he did not. Therefore we
have cogent and decisive evidence in proof of
our position, that the commandment of Jesus
Christ respecting baptism fairly implied its
application to the children of believers, and
that the disciples necessarily understood it
in such a sense. Let us thu^ endcft^vour
strenuously to throw aside all preconceived
notions, and impartially strive to ascertain
the signification the apostles would be most
likely to attach to the words of their Lord,
for this is the only way satisfactorily to decide
the point at issue. An express command
we have not, either pro or con ; and, there-
fore, we must rest satisfied with that evidence
which has the greater degree of probability,
and we sincerely believe that it preponderates
in our favour. But we must leave the reader
to think and judge for himself, and we opme
he will do so impartially, giving due cou-
sideration to the fact of infant membership,
and to the interpretation of the command of
Jesus which we have been advocating, and
which we consider as just and true. Glowb.
I^nlitiri •
JUDGING FROM THE HISTORY AND PRESENT STATE OF FRANCE, IS AN
ATTEMPTED INVASION OF ENGLAND PROBABLE ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— in.
" I bdieve I am the hiterpreter of my more { would regard an anned quarrel between France
^ODiMmbte Mlow-eitixens, in declaring that they | and England as an enormous evil, which would
S58
JUDGUfO FROM TUB HISTOB7 AMD FRB8E9T STATB Or FRAXCB,
becloud the hope of oppressed peoples ; Enprland,
which is to-day the last bulwatk of political
liberty in Europe, the only aicylum where the
defenders of) ip:ht can lift tiieir hands afrainst per-
aeeotum." — Comof, Ancinit Jlfpretentativt of
the People, /ormerly Minister o/I*ubiic Ifutruc-
tion.
** I regret the more earnestly my inability to be
present, because I Uiink I should have expressed
the unaitimous opinion of industrial France in
saying that, never has it better comprebended
than now, that the durable maiuienance of peace
will be the inevitable re-establishineut of liberty,
by the progress of civilization and the exchange
of ideas. Also, that it does not at all understand
the preparations and anuanienlv of the English
government — armaments and preparations that
are widioat an aim, unlesii they have some other
than th.9 absurd supposition of opposing a dis-
embarkation without object" — Emile de Gi-
rardin.
** I have been some weeks in France, and I
believe, from all' I have seen and heard, on the
most unquestionable autlioriiy, that the feelings
of the • French penple are decidedly in favour
of peace. Indeed, I believe the general feeling of
the French army to be deciJe-lly peaceful. No-
thing but some sudden impulse — ihe sense of
some suppo»ed injury — would give to public
opinion a dilTeivnt direction.' — W. Etcart, M.P.
** But are the English people in a position to
begin again to exasperate the French people, by
accusing them of an intentiun to invade us, and
of entertaauing those bane intenrinus against our
shores, when the only example in the memory of
living man is one in which we flayed that part
agaiust them ? It is ignorance in the minds of
the great masse<: of the people as to what the real
condition and circumstances of tlie French people
are."
" I believe the French army was never much
smaller than now. I believe it has been lately
reduced, and there is a strong report tbat it is to
be Aarther reduced ; and tiiis we do know, that
nothing couKl be more popular in France than
lessening the system of conscription, which,
amongst the whole agricultural population oi'Uiat
country, is viewed as a great grievance. There-
fore, il' it is true that the ruler of France seeks
popularity amongst the agricultural population
of that country, it seems more probable that we
shall have the reductions already commenced in
the French army coutinucil, than that there
shoald be any considerable increase. There
never was a time when the Fi-enuh army had, in
reference to its magnitude, greater demands on
its senices, in Algeria and elsewhere, tban at the
present moment ; and I oiu at a loss for any one
single fkcl which gives mu an assurance that any-
thing is taking place in France of a thi-eateniug
or a menacing character, or which should induee
this country to depart from ttje true constitutional
policy of a small peace establishment in times of
S ace, and, above all, of a small military estab-
hment within the Onited Kingdom."— J2ieA<
Hon. T. M. QwUon, MJ>.
Ay old adaf^e suggests itself to mj mind,
that '^tbe devil is not so black as I)6*s
punt^," I think this trtiism is equj^lj
Mf^CMbk to huinaa iiaUix«,tniitJ^t it la
too oominoDly the dispositioii of nMn to
represent the sins of their feUows in an
exaggerated form. In oppoaitioo to tUs, it
appears that my ^tiinate of humanitj wu
too limited — that I was too charitable and
hninane, or that tny experience was not to
general as that of B. S.; for any nnprvjwUoed
person wonld suppose, after the penual d
his missive, that Louis Napoleon, the pm*
sent Emperor of the French, was a wortbj
representative of his Satanic majesty. Iii
hitf article all that could possibly be foond
to convey an idea of infamy, vice, and vil-
lainy, has been sought, and every drcanh
stance connected with the le^isIatioD or
administration of affisirs by the fVacb
Emperor has been expressed in terms of tki
most unmitigated hatred. The prttaM
"natural antipathy" of B. S. to ^^gunpowdei^
is nothing but a cloak to the ill feetiap
which rankle in his heart; feelings of tk
most reprehensible description, which eolild
never have found utteraiK% except thro^
the mouthpiece of some swnm enemy tt
France. Every reader df his paper anst
have felt convinced that its writer was aa
abettor of war; for the sentiments, as wdl
as language, would naturally induce tboie
against whom they were directed to poaitk
such gross and undue licence with pablie
characters. Not only does he repraflOt
the Emperor under a mean simile, as bfia|
** new fledged," but he is also stigmatised si
a " maniac" " perjured hypocrite," &c.; and.
to show his sympathy fiM- the priadpict of
peace (although in another place lie rep»>
sents his "^ natural antipathy" £or **!«&•
powder"), he designates the depotalia
which waited upon Louis Kapoleoa **• ignoUs.*
Like his predecessor in the May noBber, bi
evinces little desire for peace. That ge^tb-
man scoffingly says, ^ To bear aooM peopb
talk one would suppose the nuUenniam hii
arrived — that men had already begun to
beat * their swords into plougli&hares, tad
their spears into pruning-hooks,* and that
they would never Meam war any more.*
But this passage of scripture, which the
members of the so-called (?) Peace Society
triumphantly emblanA on Uie front of sH
their publications, is itself a refutatioo «f
their absurd (?) theories; for, if they wooM
carefully study its context, they woold per-
ceive that it was an intimatisn of wibat
would occur during ths woBkmmm htiUi
U AH ATXE9PTED nTTAMOH OT EStOLAMD mOBABLB?
S5»
rad BOt beftre tbat epooli." Pray, what
does oar friend mean bj fais ''ao-eaned"
ezpreHion? Does he mean to insult peace
men hj sayiag they either do mft believe
their '^abaiud theories," or that, believing,
di«j do xiot practise them? Either would
be a most ungeneroos eminciation. Unless
this geDtlenaaa be gifted with a small amoant
of comprehension, he will find thai in the
New Testament there is no limit assigntd to
the practise of peace principles; that ia, we
see them exemplified by oar Savionr, and
enjoined on all hi^ followers. As J. C. M*C.
tells his ** peace" fneada, they should have
studied tiie context of the quotatieu ''so
trinmpfaaotly emblaEOned on their pnbHca-
Uons," pexfiaps he will be good enough to
tell them what the context is of the follow-
ing injunctions — ^whether they are an-** inti-
mation of what would occur daring the mil-
leunium itself," or whether or not they are
to be carried out before that epoch: — ^** Fol-
low peace with all men." ** Deai4y beloved,
avenge not yourselves." '* Provide neither
gold, nor silver, nor brMs in your parses, nor
scrip Ibr your jooney, nor ffk staow*^ ** Put
up thy sword again into its sheath, for all
they that uae the sword sliaU perish by the
sword." *" Then shalt not kill," && It is
somewhat sforprtsisg that such texts as these,
abounding as they do in the New Testa-
ment, shonld have escaped the obscrvatioo of
w. C. M*0.
The remarka ef my opponents, mere par-
ticularly B. S., deserve the strongest condem-
nation; and, directed as they are against the
charaotor of one who roles a large empire,
they are caleolated to ronse in the French
people a Tsry hostile and bitter spirit towards
the people of this ootmtry. Although the
faults of Louis Napoleon are not to be pal-
liated, it neither beoomes B. S. nor others to
write such inflammatory critiques on notaUe
individaals. If the abettors of war were
desirous of provoking a rapture between this
country and France, they coald not have
done better tJian by sedulously fulbwing out
the course panned by a large portion erif the
press of this conaCiy for the last twelve
months. We can scarcely fancy that they
have thenr cowitry's wel&re at heart; cer-
tunly not, when the means employed are
eakolated to fender our position unsafe, and
to compel OS to increase onr defences, rather
than to fester that Iriandly and social spirit
whidi ought to exist botwsen England and
France. Whilst holding Louis Napoleon up
to the execration of posterity as a fiend and
a rebel; whilst thus, as it were, pretending
to show that we were on the eve of being
invaded by him, when he coald not actually
ITOvera bis own people, they have literally
invited his attack on our shores, by giving
out false repieseotatioDs of oar defenceless-
ness, and naming those places on which, a
descent and landing might be easily effected.
Such logic as this, so far from convincing me
that they wibh to preserve the freedom of
this country, assures me that ill will to
others, and a meddling disposition to interfere
with the legislation of foreign coantriee, is
the chief aim of these "mischief makera;"
and, if Louis Napoleon shonld ever make an
attack on oar shores (and he stated recently
to an English visitor, ** that if then shall
be war between the two nations, it will never
he ornng to me, but to your own presa** ), it
is sincerely to be hoped that the £nt places
and persons on which he will vent his spleen
wUl be 00 the editorial prednots of Printing
Ueose Sqnaie, and B. S. of the BriUah Con-
travernttkH.
What would induce Loois Napoleon to
provoke a war with this country? Would
it replenish the exhausted exchequer of
France? Would it promote commerce?
Gould a war be carried en without the com-
bined assistance of the at prssent discon-
tented (and maligned) French pe<^le?
Would it be easier for Louis (as B. S. ab-
surdly represents) to invade this country,
than for us to defend ourselves on our own
soil? Are we unprovided with line-of-battle
ships? Are onr coasts ondefended? Is the
shore at all times safe to an invading enemy?
Will it secure Napoleon any better on his
throne (although, by the bye, elected by aa
overwhelming majority te be the rngniag
Sovereign of France), whilat so many mal-
oootent aspirers to imperial or kiugly honoan
are scattered about? All simple qaestioBs,
these; yet they have been apparently passed
ever by my opponents. Sonie common senss
and pnictieal remarks from a speech by M.
de CorratDia are worthy of transcription,
despite their length: — "£very gov«mmairt
m Europe (he says) that is administered by
wise and prudent statesmsn sighs aflsr
psabe; for their inteiests, their neoeasitiBBy
wishes, are bound upon peace. Thqr
iind jel wLkh slli'Lis lo kiiutv, ur nliiili
tnOj knows to Ultin at as, aLtLcmeh wn un
Mpukted onlf b7 a little bit uf a crerk. thnt
it ittributea lo na tli» moat brllicose iatto-
tions in the Hdild. liull;, if I hidnot noir
fboliib M yonr 1P17 clsrer fullis. I tbould b*
at k I1M9 taucribc anciri|;iato tlipse ccooki'd
DOtiooi 70U good English cntectuin or us.
Thtir amoant aimply 10 lliis: Ihat Napo-
Ison III. must necFK-aritj bJow awaj a good
d«l of gnnpowdcr U'cauK his nncle, Nipo-
Icon L, amn«d hiimelf prelty considerably
in tbii way. Here ii a piotty kiml of rea«an
br Miuble folki to run their foolish heads
agalait; at Ihoagfi bccauso one nian hasi . ..
deiM inch and >nch a Uiinj; at unc pariicuUr a
tlnm, it should be nhsslutrly necestary for s
aoothsr man to do t)ie same thin; at aome 1 u
Other time. I wager a huniired la one that \ i
If Aleiandrr, CsiaTT Charlemagne, anil Xiu ; t
poltBn, any or either of them, suddtnly re- ■
appeared on earth, they would ride some N
other hnhby than the one tliat is associiite<l 1
with their names, and that the worli! iroulil 1 1
be eitrcmely anrpriaed to no the amiable j :
coootenance they would put on. I certainly '
liaTa not had the bonoar of a perHinal ac- I
qnaiDtauce with Alexander or Caisar; nor
IS AX ATnOIFTXD DfVASIOX OF EXOUOrD PBOBABLX?
861
value as boainesB U checked? Is it the
dealers and traders in oxen, calveSf sheep,
poultry, who produce these things onlj when
there is money to pay for them : bat pray; in
time of war, where is there any monej? Is
it the mannfactorers and spinners of silk,
and cotton, and wool, who wonld have to
padlock their manufuctories and their shops
for want of a demand for their wares? Is
it the artisan class — the workers in, and
exporters of, bronzes, looking-glasses, piece-
goods, jewellery, false and real, crystal ware,
carpeting? Is it these who are going to risk
their fragile elegancies across continents and
oceans — those elegant nothings which are
porchased almost at the price of their weight
in gold, in the markets of peace, and onlj
there? Is it the holders of shares of all
kinds in railways, steam-boat companies,
banks, dodu, mines, canals, and the thon-
sand-and-one financial enterprises that give
activity to the money-market? Is this the
class to clamour for war, in the teeth of a
dead certainty that their property and
interests will be depreciated till it attains a
merdy nominal valae? And the fundholders
in the three, five, four, or four-and-a-half per
cents*; is it they? What have they to gain?
Nothing but a loss of at least forty per cent.
Is it the christian priests, who abhor blood-
eked in the fratricidal struggles of kings
against kings, and peoples against peoples?
Is it our minister of finance, who at the very
smallest whisper of war would see, with eyes
filled with tears, suddenly dry up before him
the double sources of direct and indirect
taxation; our exchequer bills no longer
negotiable, and our capitalists jealously
locking up their strong box with its patent
Chubb (for we secure our treasures with
your locks), and emigrating to foreign lands,
with our money in their fobs, or consenting
to lend it only at usurious interest. Is it
our excellent frontier inhabitants, who, eat-
ing and drinking in peace one evening with
their neighbours of the east and the north,
are going to set-to the next morning and
tear one another to pieces hke wild beasts,
as they would be, and as you charitably pre-
tend that they are? Is it our workmen who
wast to go to war with the workmen of Bel-
gium, Italyf Spain, Bussia, Germany, Eng-
land? Is it our artists, our musicians, our
conondians, our singers, our philosophers, our
puifeiinri and their pupils, our mathema-
ticians, our writers, our physicians, our law.
yers, our poets, our surgeons, chemists, and
alchemists ? Pooh I Well, if out of this
mass, comprising all classes, not one of them
desires to make war upon you, nor even to
pay for it, who, then, do you expect is going
to do it? Perhaps you are going to pay
somebody to undertake the task; you are
going to beg of them very politely to do you
the honour to make a descent upon your
coasts, in, say, four flat-bottomed boats, duly
armed, manned, and ammunitioned. In so
great a hurry are you, I see, to be once, and
for the first time in your life, well drubbed,
so that you may at length say, *^ We have been
well drubbed, and we are satisfied." Such,
then, are a few of the reasons, such are some
of the circumstances connected with the
commercial, &c., interests of France which
would " induce ** Louis Napoleon to invade
this country!!! Such are the "glorious"
prospects held out to Napoleon! Such are
the various classes of tradesmen on whom
Napoleon can surely count for co* operation
in his premeditated attack on England!
As B. S., more particularly, appears to
have weighed with such great accuracy the
odds in favour of a contemplated invasion of
this country, and as he appears to be so sure
that Louis must and will fulfil his "destiny,"
I would ask him why he has not accepted
the Cobden challenge? Although only in-
tended for a local editor, whose fears and
information appear to be as firmly grounded
as B. S.'s (in his own mind), I feel ctm-
vinced that, if the latter will forward a copy
of his article to the honourable member for
the West Riding, that that gentleman (in
order to give efiect to his own opinions, as
also to test the sincerity and to allay the
fears of B. S.) will gladly renew the offer;
and I feel as confident that B. S. will, like
his prototype of the Manchester Guardian,
declme it. It is also probable that Mr.
Cobden would enter into an agreement with
B. S. as he did with Captain Brotherton,
viz., to give him £10,000 when Louis Na-
poleon attempts to invade this country, on
condition of his opponent subscribing Is. per
week to the Manchester Boyal Infirmary.
This would be an excellent opportunity for
B. S. to manifest his sympathy with hu-
manity, as well as to give expression to his
own comficHons.
What is the position of France with regard
S6S
JUIKUXO FBOM THB HIKEOKT AMD PBHSIOT 8TATK 0» FBASCB,
to mflitarj and naral annaroeBtB? Is the
senate incnasii^ or diltbaodiBi; the army?
la there mcreaae in the navy? I aoppose
it will be objected that, if there ia a re-
dnctioB, it will onlj be as a cloak to the
real intentions and designs of the Emperor
towards this coontrj. Let me troable mj
readers once more with a hw short extracts.
When the story of M. Fonld's warlike threats
and preparations had been repeated apiia
and again, Mr. Ewart, M.P., wrote to that
gentleman to inqnire if it were true, and
receired instantly a most cmirteoas reply, in
which he says, ^ I confine myself to declaring
to you that I heme not airmtd a amglt gm^
booty stirred a nngU cannon^ or equipped a
tingle soldier. I remain the ealm spectator
of the enormous esrpenses tehick you are
makinff to eonjmre ateay an imaginary dan-
ger" What an undignified rebuke to the
government of this country I Again: Mr.
J. D. Powles, who is described as the leading
Tory merchant in the city of London, thus
writes to one of the morning papers: —
" Having been in Paris for some days within
the last few weeks, i found war denounced
as the greatest CMlamity that conld befal
France. / heard the greatest surprise ex-
pressed that persons could be found in Eng-
land to believe for a moment that France
could entertain the insane project of making
war on this country. The idea vas treatett
as one so wUd and absurd as not^t to form
the subject of a serhus conversation,' This
admission comes fmm one of a class who, of
all others, are most prone to give credit to
what they hear.
The " extraordinary activity" in the French
navy proves to be purely falladons : and the
Times, af^er diligently propagating these tahs,
is obliged to say, "■ We have ascertained from
competent evidence that no signs of extra-
ordsnary activity prevail in the dockyards.
We must also add that we have received
from the French Department of Marine a
positive statement, tkat the French navy
estimates for the current year will be about
forty milUon francs less than they were m
tke last year of Louis Philippe's reign,"
The naval estimates of France in 1847 were
158 millions of francs, and in 1852 117
millionsl This comes from th« organ who,
like B. S., has been led pug-nosed by all on
dits of the day. But this is not the first
time that thin has been such tampeiings
with the pubfio credit. I hsm beiiR ■• a
return, showing that, from 1896 to 1849,
thers have becia additiona (over tod above
the amounts annnaliy voted and expended)
for 38,500 sailors and soldiers ; and, inraspee-
tive of the costs of thesa, tlM^ were, in tbi
years 1845, 1846, and 1849, £3^900,000
voted in the general estimates lor wa^ke
armaments. All these additions were nude
at times when there were disagiecwtals is
this or some other ooontries about our evo
territories, &&; but the ** panic" aoon blew
over, the men especially raised for the sup-
pression thereof still remaining. Last yev
there was another additioo to the esttnutM
of £800,000 for 80,000 nuUtia-raea, snd
thb year 20,000 more.
One more statement respecting the Frend
army, made by General Sir De Lacj Efasf,
in the House of Commooa, May 4, 185S,
will 8u£Bce : — " It was stated that there woe
400,000 French troops on the opposite shore;
but the fact was not so. The actual aoMnit,
according to the French army estinaates ftr
this year, was 369,000, and from that mvA
be deducted 70,000 for Algiers; so that thcR
went 100,000 men from the number mi^fesei
to be the army of France. Then there wen
1 6,000 officeFi,and 22,000 noo-commisaiciMd
officers, making 38.000 together, and tb«y
were to be deducted, if the number of oar
own officers — though he coaki not tmderstaBd
why — ^were to be deducted from the naabff
of our own force; then there were 28,000
dmmraers and trumpeters, who ooght also
on the same principle to be deducted. Bat
there was in the French estimates one dmi
which we had not in ours; they coBsidered
as part of their army the infantry and cavalry
police, or the gendarmes; they mimbered
21,000; but that force was not avaiUble (cr
the purpose of invasion; it was aboolately
necessary for the local govemroeBt of Frsnec^
and carried it on, in fact, more thaa ear
poBce. If, however, that fonned part ef the
French army, then we ought net to lose sight
of the 12,000 Irish police, who wen quits
as good, and m his opinion better. He koev
no troops in the worid he woold comt on
better then the Irish poGee; thcj were not
exercised in battaliona, but the gcneial way
in which they were employed ia rssposseUs
service made them fit for anydotj, and ren-
dered them most valuable troopa m earn ti
emergency. Then, look te the auakm ef
18 AN ATTBMPTXD 13IVA8IOH OP BSOUUTD PBOBABUB ?
mflB innlided. The arenge of the British
maj mw 4| per ceot, or 3,000 for the
whole force; hot the number for the whole
army of Fnmce woald be 13,500. That
Bumber, therefore, most be deducted, and,
eoantiniBr all deductions together, he might
pat them at another 100,000 men in round
immbera to be deducted from the 300,000.
There then remaraed onlj 200,000; but did
tke house suppoee the whole of that force
froold be available immediately for some
ambitiouf project? No such thing. There
was in the time of Louis Philippe never a
less garrison in Paris and its neighbourhood
than from 50,000 to 60,000, and he believed
lie was underrating it now if he said the
present number was 70,000. Lyons and the
country around it also required 30,000, and
be believed it was imposbihle for the French
goremment to leave either of those two great
cities without garrisons of those amounts,
however ambitious they might be. Thus
there went another 100,000. What remained ?
Only 100,000. He would suppoee there was
nothing else to be looked to in France — no
great military power on the frontier. He
would suppose that 100,000 men of the
French army were quite available to be sent
ov«r here some fine summer morning. If
they did, he would venture to say that, with
the deductions that would have to be made
hefore they came into general action with
the British army, they would still be inferior
to us in number, besides the immense advan-
tage we should have in fighting in our own
oouBtry, and choosing our own spots for the
purpose, with a brave and patriotic popula-
tion to support our army, and thwart in every
way that of an enemy. But there was no
such thing as 100,000 men of the French
army available at present. The French had
80 garrisons to provide for, some of which
they could not leave without considerable
protection, such as Strasburg, Belfort, Mets,
and Lille. He (Sir De Lacy Evans) did not
bdieve the French government could really
eolleet 30,000 men for the purpose supposed.**
Sinoe General Evans stated this, the Freneh
army has been reduced by 20,000 men.
I must apologise for the excessive length
of this article; and must more espsdaJ^
crave the indulgence of French readers for
having treated this subject in so serious a
manner, when all that can be gathered or
this queetion attests the improbability of an
invasion of this country by the French Em-
peror. He is a shrewd man, and knows the
cost of such an enterprke. It would exhaust
— nay, entail a serious debt upon— France;
it would impede — perhaps irretrievably ininr
— the commercial interests of the two coun-
tries; it would involve, above all, the conKat
co-operation of all classes of the French
people; and, if such a project as an invasion
of England were to be undertaken, our sea-
girt position, the tremendous power of our
navy, the addition of the army, and, if need
be, the inhabitants of England, would be
olistacles (which cannot have escaped the
serious attention of the Emperor, if invasioo
be contemplate<]), which would be almost in-
snrmonntable impediments to success. I pity
the credulity of B. S. and his colleagues.
Above all I pity their want of judgment and
discernment, ss I also lament the very serious
languaf^ which they have attributed to tha
Emperor of the French. Whence their in-
fonnation I know not; nor yet am I aware of
any inducements to lead to a rupture with
France. If the overthrow of France were
sought, nc^hing on earth would be mors
effectnal and certain of success than the
practical exemplification oi the ** probabilUf^
of invasion. But to be serious. When ara
we to be invaded? It has been predicted
during the last few years, and it has not
come yet. " Why tarrieth the wheels of his
chariot; why is his chariot so long in
coming?** What curious prophets B. & and
Co. are! They have lost all claim to our
respect and belief. They have now imposed
I on us so long that we can see through their
" sham.*' We cannot consent to believe them
again. J. G. B.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
Isr the investigation of this subject it will
W wsU to 0anee, by way of commencement,
at ths reasons which have been urged against
tha ptabability of an attsmptsd invasion of
England by Fraoos.
It has been said that the interests of the
French people are againat an invasioo ; thai
it would immediately most seriously damage,
if not destroy, their trade and commeree;
that it would incalculably inereaas their deht|
264
JTDGINO FROM TSB HISTORY AHD PRESENT STATE OF FRANCE,
and cause the destruction of thousands of
their friends.
In reply we maj ask, Do the French see
and feel all this? Even if we were convinced
that thej did, do we not know that men,
both individoallj and collectively, act every
day in opposition to their perceived interests?
How few crimes, how few wars, would there
have been, if a man's or a nation's course
had been decided by real interest I Commerce,
debt, friends, life — these, alas ! often weigh
but little against plunder, rapine, revenge,
conquest, glory. Again: However wise the
French people may be, when the imperial
mind revolves the question, Shall I invade
England ? it is to be feared that the people s
Toice will be either but faintly heard, or
haughtily and daringly despised.
This leads us to notice the argument that
the Emperors interests are against an in-
Tasion; that his throne rests on order and
peace, wad the consequent prosperity of the
masses of the population ; that he needs his
soldiers to keep down discontent and insur-
rection at home ; that invasion could but end in
his overthrow, as, if unsuccessful, the nation
would rise against him, and, if successful, the
general in command would gather the laurels,
imd surely undermine bis master's power.
In answer, the previous question recurs, Is
mil this felt and seen? If it be, may not the
idea of destiny, the vision of glory, tempt
the Prince to run the risk, and leave to fate
the task of counterworking the apparent
certain issues? May not circumstances arise
that will seem to him to make the invasion
of England the last die he can throw for
popularity and power? Nor is it always the
case that the sovereign who himself does not
load his armies is excluded from all the
renown of victoiy and triumph, and from
gainbg thereby new strength to his throne.
The daring that could think of such an
enterprise, the wisdom that could plan it, and
select the fitting instruments for its accom-
plishment, are not without merit of their
kind; and, under some circumstances, they
would exalt the man who displayed them
. into a demigod, and obtain for him a niche
in the Pantheon.
But it is said the attempt would be mad-
ness. Invasion! — England conquered! Im-
possible! The enterprise is hopelras, and
Louis Napoleon knows it I Does he? Is it
^DJte evident that he disbelieves all Uiat has
heeA said and written about our defcDodeai-
ness? If he considers the whole as entitled
to no credit whatever, he moat be a dogged
sceptic indeed, the more so as his wish most
be in favour of the truth of the represcptS'
tions that have been made. We easily be-
lieve that which we wish to be true. Be-
sides, to whom is the enterprise hopeke?
To Louis Napoleon ? But may he not expect
the support of the other absolute powers cl
Europe ? The idea of a coalition against Bog-
land may before this have crossed his mind-t
We proceed now to what may be further
said in afiirmation of the question.
First The Peninsular campaign, dofiu^
after a brief interruption with Waterloo, is
not forgotten by the nephew of the hero,
whose soldiers were defeated and whoie
sceptre was broken on its bloody fields ;iKr
is it forgotten by those who have raised the
nephew to bis present elevation. We nay
be pardoned if we doubt whether it is fat'
given. Some words fell, not very4(»ig sioee,
that sounded like " vengeance \* though, per-
haps, the speaker bit his lip the nKHDot
after. It was too early a betrayal of his daxk
thoughts. Uis wont is to plan and plan, and
not to speak till he is prepared to act.
Secondly. The Emperor of the French
cannot be trusted; no faith can be put in his
word; he always masks his designs. **The
republic," " the constitution,'* *' the inviola-
bility of the assembly ;** these were always
on his lips, never in his heart* His oA-
^ repeated oath to preserve them kept not bade
his hand when it served his purpose to destroy
them. " The republic** meant the empue;
, " the constitution,*' an armed revolution, t»
I be followed by a despotism ; " the inviolalnlity
of the assembly," the midnight arrest, ths
dungeon, the galleys, and Guiana for its
wisest, noblest, and most patriotic membeiSi
Surely, when such a man talks of peace, we
are not uncharitable if we surmise that war
is in his heart!
Thirdly. Louis Napoleon shrinks Irom
nothing that promises to further his aids.
We have just spoken of perjury. Now, his
career shows that when he has anything to
gain he laughs at law, riots in robbery, and
wantons in the wretchednos of others. The
substitution of the imperial edict for Ids
country's laws ; the confiscati<m of the private
property of the Orleans family; the im-
prisonment, spoliation, and banishment of
'K
IS AS ATTEMPTED XHYASION OF BHOLAHD PROBABLE ?
265
opponents; his msssacre of the Bonlevards,
ftod his anxietj for the restoration of the
guillotine;— these are proofs of oar assertion.
We most believe, then, that it will not be
the thought of gnilt or crime that will
restrain him from attempting the removal of
whatever stands in his waj. Does Britain
occnpj this position; and whj should she,
nther than the other Earopean powers, be
the object of his hostility? The answer is
obTioos. She guned Waterloo; she, chiefly,
holds hack his hand from Belgiam and Swit-
zerland. England is free, and throws her
riiield over men who sigh, and who, at a
fitting opportnnitj, are prepared to fight, for
French and Earopean freedom. The English
press is free, and will call vice, though reign-
ing in a palace and smiled on bj high-bom
dames, vice; perjury, though privileged by
priestly absolution, perjury; robbery, though
legalized by royal edict, robbery; and crime,
though crowncNi, crime. It will denounce
unrighteousness, oppression, and despotism,
though its words of fire should kindle another
conflagration, in which crowns and thrones
should be consumed. The English conscience,
too, is firee, is not enslaved by priestly pre-
tensions and superstitions ; but is the eternal
foe of religious usurpation. Yes ; it cannot
he concealed that England, in her constitu-
tion, her freedom, and her religion, is the
antagonist of the other great powers of
Europe. While she remains so, there can be
no coital union between her and them, and
their power cannot be consolidated, or their
preservation secured. To the priests and
princes of the Ckmtinent the revolutioniza-
tion or destruction of England is a cherished
wish. But England will not change, unless
it be to still greater freedom. Her march is
towards an increase of democratic power,
and therefore of liberty. She must be de-
stroyed then. There is imminent danger of
a iMgue. being formed against her, in which
France will be foremost; a league that will
be blessed by popes, and in which priests,
Jesuits, and inquisitors shall be advisers,
and which will be prepared to take a course
branded by treachery the basest, and crime
the most atrocious. France, if isolated and
unsupported, will not invade England. There
are deep sympathies between France and other
continental powers. They respect but little
the parvenu ; but they will use him, in the
hope to cast him aside by and by, and place
upon his vacant seat a prince with ^ right
divine."
But are the peoples not forgotten in all
this? Will they sanction such a league,
so unholy a coalition? They may, but from
a motive totally difierent from that prompt-
ing their rulers. They may sanction it
because they desire, not the overthrow of
England, but the destruction of their own
despotisms. Let but the hosts of England
and the Continent come into collision, and
Europe would be in the blaze oH revolution.
We have faith in the issue, because we have
faith in a righteous Governor of the world,
under whose reign tyranny cannot ultimatelj
prosper. This, however, is a fiiith thi^
blesses not the breast of European autocrats;
and the probability is that they will madly
attempt to crush England. I say the prO'
habilUy is that they will make the attempt;
by no means the certainty; for " who can teU
what will be on the morrow?" If the present
continental system lasts, there might be little
doubt on the subject; but to-morrow may
witness other occupiers of the thrones at
present filled by Louis, Nicholas, Joseph, and
Frederick. We believe that in some way or
other, and that ere long, England and the
other great nations must be assimilated in
character, in principles, and in government,
or there will be a convulsion, in which power
will be banded against right, despotism
against freedom, and religion against priest*
craft. W. G. S. H.
The exciting causes to which our organs are subjected during the day, tend progres-
sivelj to increase their action. The throbbings of the heart, for instance, are more fre-
quent at night than in the morning ; and thb action, gradually accelerated, would soon be
carried to such a degree of activity as to be inconsistent with life, if its velocity were not
moderated at intervals by the recurrence of sleep. — Rkkerland,
Life in every shape should be precious to us, for the same reason that the Turks care-
fall j ooUeet every scrap of paper that comes in their way, because the name of God ma;
be written upon it« — Jean Paul,
266 IS THB vat or oaths for cmi, purposes bigbt astd sxpsDisarr?
Inrifll (groirainii.
IS THE USE OF OATHS FOR CIVIL PURPOSES RIGHT AND EXPEDIENT ?
NEGATIVE AKTICLE.— III.
Iir ottther of tbe articles on the affirmatire
hiKV9 the writers stated a principle by which
tiie use of oaths is justified as right; but
they have based their ar^ment upon certain
passages of scripture, and mainly upon those
in which the Author of Christianity estab>
lished a rule of conduct for his followers
diametrically oppneedf I conceive, to that
they have deduced from them. These pas-
sages are subject to the objections which
always attach to reports of spoken words;
and it would have been far better if our
opponents had shown what principle caused
their utterance consistent with their c(»i-
closion. Such a course would have given a
eoherence to their argument it does not now
possess. As I made no reference to this
part of the subject in my former article, I
may, perhaps, be permitted to enter upon it
now.
In the first place, then, we must exclude
from consideration all the references which
have been made to the admission of oaths
into the Mosaic system as altogether inap-
plicable to the question now. Whatever
authority there was for their use und«r it
must have been as parts of the system, every
other part of which had equal force, and
they are, consequently, only admissible with
the whole body of Jewish law.
We shall, then, have to interpret those
words of the Great Teacher which have been
twice quoted already. J. F. holds that they
do not ^ forbid the taking of an oath in a
court of justice." C. £. quotes and adopts
a note from Barnes, stating that " our Saviour
here evidently had no reference to judicial
oaths." To decide this point satisfactorily
we must have the whole case, as presented
in the quotations before us, in a connected
manner. In Matt. v. 33 — 37, Christ gives
s general rule, ^ Swear not at ally** and enu-
merates and reprobates certain forms of
swearing, which were then, probably, in
common use among the Jews. One of these
proscribed forms, I maintain, includes the
Judicial oath; it follows immediately after
the general reprobation of them, sad k is
these terms, *^ Neither hy heavet^^Jbritw
God's throne." The meaning we most atta^
to these words is explained hj the speaker
himself in Matt, xxiii. 22, whnv He asyi.
*' He thai shall swear by Hemsen, mtemnA
by the throne of God^ and hy him thai sioA
thereon^ namely, the living God. The ftn
of the judicial oath, which, aeoording tt
Matthew^s narrative, was adniinutsTMl te
Christ when before Csiaphas, was — the hifk
priest speaking — *' / adjure tikee by the /My
God;'^ and this, responded to by the intsca^
completed the oath. Front this it is app»>
rent that the prohibition made bj Christ, it
his own explanation of its me«Dinf, dii
include the judicial oath; and conseqaestly,
as far as these passages extend, it is isfif-
putable that every appeal to God of tk
nature of an oath, in judicial and all etlMf
cases, is condemned.
But J. F. and C. E. both attempt to ess-
firm their deductions from these scriptsnl
quotations by the course adopted bj Chiiit
when before the high priest, and immediate
preceding his condemnation to an ignebli
death. It is of great importance to aWs
that the conclusion I have drawn from kil
precepts are not invalidated by his oosdaet
We have in the New Testaunent fimr K^
graphics of Christ, and in each an aooesit
of the proceedings before the high {h4csI os
this occasion. In conseqiieoce of the vsrift>
! tions in them it is necessary to taks tak
narrative of the event, and, compariag i
I with the others, obtain, if possiMs, a dm
understanding of it If I thought sfSM
would permit, I would quote them in foil;
but it is, perhaps, sufficient to refer to Matt
xxvi. 63, 64; Mark xiv. 61, 69; Luke xxS.
67—70; John xviii. 20, 21. Each difct
materially from the others; bat Mattkev
only represents the high priest to use tkt
adjuration; the remaining thrce^ tiiomcb
disagreeing in nearly every other psrtiealsr
with htm and each otbo', agree that ss
ordinary interrogation only wss wsd. Add '
IS TBS VSB OF OATHS FOB CIVIL PUBFOSES BIGBT ASTD XXFEDUZIT ? S67
to this fact, that Jadea being under Roman
government, the high priest did not then
possess judici&l power, and so conld not pat
the oath jadicialljr — that Matthew was not
present on the occasion, whilst John (see
xriii. 16) probablj was, and it is demon-
strated, as far: as the fiftct is susceptible of it,
that the words reported bj Matthew were
not those used; and, consequent! j, no incon-
abtencj exists between the precept and the
practice of Christ upon the subject.
Bat we have, in these scriptural quota-
tioos, the declaration of a rule or law merelj ;
whilst we should always appeal, in preference,
to the principle ^m which the law derires
its justifieation and force. The one involved
in the question as between man and man is,
that it is an imperative dutj of man to act
Jostlj * the observance of truth is essential to
the performance of that dutj; it is universal
in its application, as all moral duties are; it
tiierefore cannot be possible for man, the
•abject of it, to deepen it bj a ceremony, or
bj non-observance or avoidance of
And, as between God and man, it may
be stated thus — that, as his knowledge and
jnstira are both infinite, the first cannot be
increased, nor the last modified or varied, by
any form of appeal to him man may use.
An oath including snch an appeal fails in
one of its essential parts, is inconsistent
with the character of God and with itself,
is wholly and irremediably wrong.
It is necessary I should notice the omiraion
of an essential feature of the oath from J. F.'s
deflnition. It is true, as stated by him, that
fit implies the possession of religious convic-
tions, and of responsibility to God, by the
or other person performing the cere-
17, and that it is intended to satisfy the
distrust of his antagonist, and of the court
jndicially deciding a question between them ;
bnt it also calls upon God to iritness that
tiis statement is true, and inv(^es his anger
if it be false, presupposing the belief that in
tlie latter case he will inflict a punishment
^flbcnt in nature or degree, or in botii, from
that with which he would visit a deviation
from tmth to a similar extent if made with-
out snch appeal to him. Hence it rests with
those who audvocate the use of oaths to show
that they remove acts performed under them
out of the category of ordinary things, and
duHBge the rdalionship between God and
man, at the tcill of the man. But it is im-
possible to conceive that the administration
of pure justice can be so modified by forms
adopted by those subject to it.
J. F 8 argument, not being based on a firm
principle or a clear and comprehensive defi-
nitiim, becomes necessarily incoherent and
inconclusive. He states that the '* taking of
an oath is a purely religions act* — that the
act is " one which a conscientious man only
can rightly perform,** and that it is ** a test
of the highest integrity of character." But
this, his idea of an oath, and of its require-
ments from, and its influence upon, those
who take it, can be shown, from his own
words not to possess one point of correspon-
d^ce with the men it has to operate upon,
and the purposes it has to serve ^dien applied
to its ordinary use in society. The ** de-
generacy of society (he says), the deceit and
falsehood which have tarnished the dealings
of man,** have caused them to require a
"pledge of veracity" from each other. Ho
considers, moreover, the oath to be " a stand-
ing memorial of our depravity** — that "it
arose with our imperfections, and with them
it must cease.'* Hence it follows, then, that
we require as a pledge of the veracity of men
partaking of the degeneracy of society, and
whose dealings have been tarnished by deceit
and falsehood, an act of a purely religious
nature, that implies their possession of reli-
gious convictions, which a conscientious man
only can rightly perform, and the right per«
formance of which affords a test of the highest
integrity of character, which is, besides, an
evidence of their depravity, and is to cease
when man shall have become perfect, t. e.,
on his showing, competent to the due per-
formance of the act ! We have here a strange
forgetfulness of the simple rule, that an in-
fluence should be adapted to the nature of
that which it is designed to move, and that
the same act cannot be an evidence oS virtue
and depravity.
Having thus shown the utter fallacy of
the argument in support of the aflirmatire
attempted to be drawn from scripture, and
its incoherence and inconsistency with all
sound principle and with itself, I need not
repeat the reasons which daily experience
press upon us in proof of the evil influence
the use of oaths has upon our judicial pro-
ceedings, and in ordinary life. E. D.
268 18 THK VVt OP OATB8 POR CITII. PUBPOSE8 BIORT AJTD BSFSDIEKT ?
AFFIBMATIVE ARTICLE.—III.
Wb hare obserred, of late, that in the dis-
cuBsion of religions topica, and topics allied
to religion, it is customary with some writers
in the British CoiUn>ver$iatitt to regard the
Bible as the depositoij of two kinds of
religion; whereas we have been tanght by
the sacred writers themselves to regard it as
the depository of but one true religion. The
religbn of the Old Testament is the same
with that of the New: in the former it was
in childhood, in the latter it assumes the
form of manhood : in that it has one phase,
in this another. We should learn to discri-
minate between what is essential and what
18 accidental — between a man and his clothCb.
Whatever was right in itself under the Old
Testament dispensation is the same under
the New. A thing attended with the same
circumstances cannot be right at one period
and wrong at another.
Now, with respect to the use of oaths,
£. W. S. acknowledges that " it was in har-
mony with the religion of the Jews," &c. ;
and also that by virtue of that religion
" oaths were recognised as necessary under
the Jewish theocracy." But why does he
limit the legality and necessity of oaths to
the Jewish nation, or to the period of the
Jewish theocracy, when it is evident that
their use and necessity were anterior to the
origin of the Jewish nation, and commen-
surate with society itself, both as respects
time and place? The use of oaths in matters
of great moment is a portion of natural reli-
gion, proceeding from the light of nature,
approved of by God, and in keepmg with the
spirit of revealed religion.
That our views of the subject may assume
a tangible form, we shall attempt to vindi-
cate the use of oaths for civil purposes on
the following grounds : —
I. From the nature and design of an oath.
An oath is a solemn appeal to God to witness
the truth of what is spoken; and the person
sworn is supposed to renounce all claim to
God*8 mercy, and to invoke divine vengeance,
if he does not speak the truth as far as he
knows it Hence, to take an oath is a reli-
gious act,* by which the person exacting an
oath, and the person by whom it is ti^en,
* Tully calla it a <* religious afflnnadon."
both acknowledge tbe omniscience, omnipo-
tence, omnipresence, and justice of the Deity.
"Thou shalt swear, The Lord liveth, in
truth, in judgment, and in righteousness,*
Jer. iv. 2. Thus, in a lawftd oath there
must be truth, judgment^ and righieoutne^t.
Again: ''He that sweareth in the earth,
shall swear by the God of truth,** Isa. Ixv. 16.
The formulas and ceremonies which attend
the administration of oaths are Tarious and
mutable; consequently they are noo-MS#D>
tials, and do not affect the question at issue.
The design in view in the administration
of oaths is twofold. 1. To elicit the truth
in matters of paramount importance. 2. To
confirm and commend the truth. Than this
nothing can be more honourable to a govern-
ment and beneficial to a nation. St. Paul
says, " An oath for confirmati<si, is to them
(men) an end of strife,'* Heb. vi« 16; that is,
disputes, contentions, and contradictioBS, are
usually put an end to by the interposition of
an oath, which is the highest and most
decisive evidence that can be adduced in
proof of the agreement between a nun*9
thoughts and words.
II. The use of oaths is compatible with
right reason, reason in its present most per-
fect state. The very fact of administerisg
oaths involves a cogent proof of their l^alit j,
for it presupposes that men are unprincipM
and suspicious beings. Were th^y not so,
the necessity for continuing the use of oaths
would cease to exist, and the cust(»n of
administering them might then be dispensed
with ; but BO long as men universally do net
reverence the truth, and speak the truth /or
truth's sdbe, the use of oaths can no more be
safely dispensed with than bolts, bars, locks,
&C. Since it is a well-ascertuned fiict tltt
many men, perhaps the majority, do not st
times speak the truth, and that from prin-
ciple ; it is right, in weighty matters, for pro-
perly qualified persons to imbue them with
other motives, motives of a potent and tell-
ing kind. Indeed, in all criminal and ja-
dicial causes, where life, property, and cha-
racter are at stake, it is in every sense right
and expedient to lay the parties at variance,
and their res[iective witnesses, under the
most powerful obligations to speak the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but the troth.
IB TBS USB or OATHS FOR CIVIL PUKP0SK8 RIOHT AKD EXPBDIEaiT ? 269
And, pray, how can this be more effectuallj
aocompliihed than bj the civil aathorities
demanding that all depositions pertaining to
such caoses shall be made by men upon their
oaths? We most cordially acquiesce in the
proposition of £. D., that " the obligation to
speak the truth is nniyersal/' &c. But does
Uiis obligation elicit truth from all persons,
at all times, and under all circumstances?
Bj no means. Then why not impose an
additional obligation, one which comprises a
" greater efficacy for the discovery of truth ?"
A man*8 obligation to tender true evidence,
and enunciate the truth, is enhanced in pro-
portion to the magnitude of the cause and
the dignity of the persons concerned; and
when the eternal God becomes specially con-
cerned (as he does when, by the taking of an
oath, he is being appealed to by all parties
to be a swift witness against the liar) tlie
Ban giving evidence is bound by all that is
human and divine to speak the truth. Be-
yond this* human laws cannot be enacted to
elicit and confinn the truth of oral state-
ments. If a man be unprincipled, and if he
lacks the love of truth when he enters the
witness-box, what can be expected from him
Vat, at most, very suspicious evidence ? There
IB just one chance — not a probability, but a
bare possibility — that he may speak the truth.
Now, by imposing upon him a solemn oath,
bj which he is reminded of the fact that God
ia there, and that he has imprecated God's
Teogeance if he does not declare the truth,
yon place the man under a twofold obligation
to do 80, and there are then ttoo chances that
he will speak the truth. To lie is bad ; but
to be gililty of perjury is worse, for the latter
involves the former; and the man who is
gnilty of perjury is liable at any moment to
be pnobhed, not only for lying and perjury,
hot also for the bad effects which his conduct
may have occasioned. Hence we infer that
bj how much more punishment is due to the
crime of perjury than to that of lying, by so
mneh more is a man obligated to speak the
trath when upon his oath than otherwise.
True, an oath adds nothing to the real value
of a man's testifnony which is true, so far as
the testimony and the man himself are con-
cerned; bat the attester is a man — a sus-
pidoas being, and a social creature, and his
* Tolly says, **Oiir ancestors had no stricter
bond frbweby to oblijge the fldth of men to one
another than that of an oath."
testimony has relation to beings like himself;
hence it becomes of more value, when given
upon oath, than what it otherwise could be,
to his fellow man. For the reasons stated
above and implied we cannot accede to the
tenor of E. W. S. and £. D.*s arguments on
this subject.
In reply to E. W. S.'s second inquiry we
say that, providing the administration of
oaths does not secure the intended object in
all cases, this is no proof that the use of
oaths is wrong and inexpedient. The ques-
tion is, does the use of oaths elicit trutii in
any case, where, without an oath, it could
not be elicited? If so, the use of oaths is
right. £. W. S. tacitly acknowledges that
oaths are of real value when taken from
principle ; so that we gain another point, viz.,
an oath detracts nothing from the truth of a
statement. Now, if a man will make a false
statement when upon his oath, there is no
probability whatever that he would make a
true one when not upon his oath ; whereas,
on the other hand, there is a great probability
that a man will speak the truth when upon
his oath, although he does not hesitate to lie
when not upon his oath. Hence the expe-
diency of the use of oaths.
With respect to the Quakers, we remark
that though they are, by an act of parlia-
ment, exonerated from subscribing to the
British formula of administering to an oath,
yet they are b^ no means freed from the
spirit and obligation of an oath. Their
affirmation — ^"I, A. B., do solemnly, sin-
cerely, and truly declare and affirm" — is
equivalent to an oath ; and so it is deemed
by the Quakers and the state; and the viola-
tion of the said affirmation is, we believe,
followed by the same consequences as per-
jury. The power of dispensing with one form
of swearing and adopting another is in the
hands of government; consequently, the
exercise of this power does not interfere with
the legality and utility of oaths. And, pro-
viding our government were to dispense with
the use of oaths altogether, it would by no
means follow that the use thereof was
wrong.
III. The use of oaths is in harmony with
the example of God, and *' with the character
of his moral government of man." Whatever
God does is right in itself, and by virtue of
its relation to God. In many instances we
find Deity himself ratifying his pnnnises and
270 K TBB USE OP OATB8 VOB dVIL PUBPO0BS SIGHT ASD
tJiraitadngB bj inteqiosing fata oath; not
becftose he is nnpriocipled, and addicted to
utter falsehoods, bat becaose of the hardness
of men's hearts. If Jehorah, to commend
the truth of his statements to the consciences
of men, spoke upon his oath, why should not
those who profess to be his followers and
imitators in all possible matters do the same
for the same ends?
IV. We ar^ue the lawfulness and expe-
diencj of the practice of solemn swearing on
the ground that it is in harmony with the
whole tenor of scripture and to the spirit of
Christianity. Although we differ in opinion
from E. W. S. on this p«iint, we cannot for-
bear admiring his deference for scripture
authority in the matter. 1. It has already
been acceded that the law of Moses not only
allowed, but required, tbe use of oaths.
Under this law the use of oaths was not a
mere ceremony, a meaningless rite, but a
great moral and religious duty ; for God says
expressly, "Thou shalt fear the Lord thy
God, and serve him, and shalt swear by his
name," Dent vi. 1 3 ; x, 20. Now, what au-
thority, we ask, has any man to dispense
with one part of this injunction and not
with the other? To say that Christ abro-
gated the Mosaic law does not affect the
subject one iota, for the use of oaths was
current among God s people prior to the in-
stitution of the Moiaic dispensation. See
Gen. xxi. 23, 24; xjdr. 39, ^.
2. The prophets, in their prophecies and
promises respecting the times of the gospel,
mention the use of oaths especially. **Unto
me every knee shall bow, every tongue shall
swear/' Isa. xlv. 23. Compare Rom. xiv. 11.
Jeremiah, too, when describing the conversioa
of the heathens under the gospel, mentions
the act of swearing by the name of the Lord
as belonging to those persons, Jer. xiL 16.
3. Christ himself sanctioned the use of
oaths by his own example, (a) when he said,
"Verily I say unto you, Tliere shall be no
sign given to this generation," Mark viiu 12.
In the original there is an elUpsis of some
such words as these, "may I not live," or
" let God punish me if a sign be given," &c
Yet, tbe words in their present form have an
Hebrew formuU of an oath,* Dent. i. 35;
• On thi« pa«s«^ Dr. Bloomfield says, " Thb
w a fbrm of solemn astererstion (common in the
Old Testammt), in wbioh tbera is implied ea hn^
firtestiomj which, however, is omiMtd, per ape.
1 Sam. iiL 14; Psa. xcv. 1 1 ; cxxziL 2, S,lce.
(6) Again : Christ did not refuse to take sa
oath, when sworn by tbe high priest is
these words, *' I adjure thee if the tiviig
God," &&, Matt. xxvi. 63. Mow, when a
person was thus adjured, he was cUigcd ti
answer upon his oath. Lev. v. 1. Beisf
thus sworn, Christ answered, ** Thou hal
said" {L e., Thou hat>t said right, I am tbt
Christ, the Son of God). So Mark has it,
xvi. 62. Had it not, therefore, been right Is
be sworn and give evidence upon oath, Chriit
would have entered his protest against tfat
practice. But ho did not; on the cootrsy,
he complied with it; oonseqnently, the pne-
tice is right and expedient.
4. In the book of Bevelatioa, whidi wm
written poeterior to tbe time of tbe abn|»>
tion of the law of Moses, we have an iastsoei
of an angel attesting the tmth of a grat
statement by an appeal to the most ^ifjk
God, Kev. X. 5, 6.
5. The great apostle in aeveral pbM
confirms his speeches and the truth of Ui
professions by calling in God as a witiM,
Kom. i. 9; ix. 1; Phil. i. 8; 1 Cor. xv. SI;
2 Cor. L 28; Gal. I 10. In 2 Cor. L 2S «t
have this significant form of an oath, "I esl
God for a record upon my sool,** &c Xcw,
Paul was a Christian in every sense «f the
word; then how can we suppoee that ki
would comply with a prsctioe that was Ml
in harmony '' with tbe spirit of CImstiaaityr
Why did not E. W. S. speak to these mm-
sages in Paul's writings? From all thsis
examples we think it is clear that the onif
oaths for civil purposes is in harmoDy wilk
scripture, consequently ri|;ht, And ia har-
mony with the spirit of Christianity.
It now only remains for na to txMmim
those words of our Saviour which £. W. &
regards as containing a decisive iguiwit
that the use of oaths for civil purposes ii
wrong. E. W. S. must not be smjsissil H
we tell him that the words have do rapsd
at all to oaths for civil purpoaea, lur this ii
the case;* and tbe inferenoe which £. W. &
draws from these words, b^gimuBg **ThM
does he teach us,** &C., is vecy fiunliy ii
9iope$in et yracitmtis erf,^ — Viim Gtwek
in loco,
• Tbe Jews, in their jodkisl
God only : wbcreas Ike oatha
eoncciTed by beaven, eartli.
n. ' -.
IS THE USB OV OATII8 FOR CIVIL PUBF08B8 RIOUT AMD XXPEDIENT ? 271
There is more than one kind of swearing:
there are manj ; such as true swearing, false
swearing, forswearing, vulg&r swearing, Jbc.
Kow we have shown that one kind of swear-
iag is used and commended in scripture, and
hat one; this is true swearing, for no other
kind can be supplied to be righL But the
Mooe thing, attended with the ttame circam-
•tanoes, cannot be commended in one place
and condemned in another. It is a rule
equal to an axiom in the interpretation of
•criptore, that wben a thing is forbidden in
one place and allowed in another, not the
caaence of the thir.g, but the accidentals,
modes, or non-essenUals, are spoken to, at
least in one place. Bei^ides, there are scores :
of instances in the Bible where the sacred {
writers seem to express themselves abso-
Inteljr and positively when thej mean to be
understood comparatively and conditionally.
See Lake vi. 30, where Chriut says, " Give
to every man that a^kelh of thee," 8cc. ; 1
Cor. Ti. 7 ; viii. 4 ; Matt. ix. 24 ; vii. 23.
Thus, then, we must necessarily come to the
eoDclnsion that Christ prc^ibits some kind
of swearing, probably all kinds, save that
which is right and commended. This kind
he eannot be suppoeed to forbid; for such a
rappositiou sets Christ against Christ, and
PjuU against James. When Chri&t says,
"Swear not at all," &c., he prohibits all
■orta of Tain and vulgar swearing, perjury,
and the Tiolation of oaths. The Scribes and
Pharisees had erred, not only respecting the
lawa of uncleanness, divorce, and retaliation,
hut respecting the use of oatbs. These men,
Ske many others, had addicted themselves
to fiJaebood and superstition to that degree
that they were obliged to devise means in
jnetlficacion of their conduct or forfeit the
eanfidence of the people; and, that they might
IbUow their wicked practice without seem-
hig to Incur God's wrath, they argued to the
iiQowing effect: — 1. No oath is binding,
except the name of God be interposed or
cxpfissed. 2. A man may swear in com-
moB oonversatioo with impunity, so long as
ha awears by a creature only; or, the obliga-
tioQ of an oath increases in the same ratio as
the dignity of the person or thing by which
a vma aweara. 3. A man may swear in
ordinary conversation, even by the name of
God, if what he swears be the truth.* In
proof of these remarks we adduce the follow-
ing evidence: — " They that swear by heaven
and by earth are free.**! ** If a man swear
by heiiven, or by earth, yet this is not an
oath.^'t B. Judah § says, ** Ue that says
Jerusalem, or by Jerusalem, says nothing.**
** Whosoever shall swear by the temple, it if
nothing," &c, Matt xxiii. 16—22. Now,
it was against what the Jews called these
lighter oaths that Christ directed his dis-
course. Their manner of mincing those sacrei
obligations was repugnant to the true natore
and design of oaths ; and from what we gather
on this subject, it seems that Christ gave his
followers tu understand these two things r—
1. That they ought not to swear by aziy
creature; for every oath, whether conceived
by a creature or otherwise, had respect to
God, and was therefore binding. To swear
by the temple was the same as swearing by
the God who dwelled therein; and so of aU
the rest, MaU. xxiii. 16, &c 2. That tbej
ought not to interpose the name of God at
all in attestation of common and triml
statements, however tnie.|| That such ia
the true design of our Saviour*s prohibition
in Matt t. 33, &c., is evident from this
weighty consideration, that everything else
prohibited in the same chapter was in itedf
unlawful, and had always been deemed so by
God 8 law. It was the glosses and dogmas
of false teachers that Christ sought to root
up and destroy ; with respect to the things
that were of God, he said, " Think not that
I am come to destroy the law and the pro-
phets; I am not come to destroy, but to
fulfil" J. F.
* This opinion they round«d on Lev. xix. IS*
** Te sb^ not swear by my name fU»ely," infer-
ring fhmi this text that they might swear by it,
even in triviml matters, so long as their aIBriDa>
tioDS were true.
^ ** Misn. Sheb., chap. iv. sec. 13.
t Lifchtfoot, on Matt. V. 34.
i " Sheb.;* chap. xiL
II Quintilian held the same opinion:— "To
swear at all (says he), exerot where it is neecs*
sary, does not well ooindde with a wise man.**
And EpictetuH the same >-** Shun oaths whoQj,
if it be possible; if not, as much as you ean."
tiie
are the baggage of Tirtae: they cannot be spared, nor left behind ; bat they hmder
J72
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVKMEST 800IET1BS.
€\}i Intiftits' Itttinir;
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
to form a branch of eilucatioa ? " 7, " I« a sato
better for having enemies ? " 8, ** Ouirht the tna-
chise to be extended to £!t in the pre«t-nt sesitm
o( parliament?" 9, " Whether ha* ho|>« or itm:
the greater influence on the mind ? *' 10, " WL.tUi
ought lo exalt a man most, the good qualitk> ^
the head or thone of the heart f "
As statitd in the report, the easaja were all tf i
superior character, and showed thai the vah->»
writers had given thfi subjects their carrftil cyi*i-
deration. The discuMions were entervd into vi.':i
spirit, and were candidlf and furly condueiec.
During the evening various toasts were giveo \j
several of the members, each prefared by a tr*
appropriate reroarkst. These, inter»prrMd inA
songs and recitations, kept ap th» hilarity of Iks
evening till a late hoar, when the company i
Paisley Jrtizan'i Institution.— The second
session of the essay and discussion class in con-
nexion with the above flouri*«)iing iusiitution
having been lately brought to a close, the mem-
bers, along with a few friends, held their annual
meeting in the Vulcan Hotel, County Plac^, on
the evening of the *J4th of May last. Mr. John
Guy, president of the class, occupied the chair,
and the duties of croupier were discharged by Mr.
Gordon Smith. After partaking of an excellent
repast, and the cloth having been withdrawn, the
usual loyal and patriotic toasts were given, and
warmly responded to.
The chairman then proceeded to deliver the
closing address for the session, in which he
strongly recommended mutual improvement so-
cieties as an invaluable boon to all who have
entered on Uie arduous task of mental improve- 1 rated, well pleased with the manner in which tbe
ment and self-education. He spoke in eloquent | evenintr had been spent, and expreaalng their or
terins of the very great advanuiges which voung i nest wish for the future prosperity of tbie '
men might derive from attending such classes, ' ~
characterizing them as a sort of mental gymna-
sium, in the arena of which the powers and facul-
ties of mind may be trained, by proper exercise,
into a healtliful and vigorous operation. He con-
cluded a deeply interesting address, which dis-
played throughout a great amount of mental
acumen and deep thought, by passing a high eulo-
gium on " tliat excellent periodical. The British
Controversialist." In referring to it he said, " I
cannot allow this opportunity to pass away with-
out bringing under your notice a most excellent
periodical, specially designed for you, and con-
ducted with great talent and ability. I refer to
The British Controversialist. I would strongly
advise every one now present (who may not be so
already) to become at once a subscriber to that
truly valuable production. As the cost is but
trifluig, I would have you purchase it from tlie
commencement. The work needs no eulogium ;
it only requires to be seen to be appreciated. It
is a library in itself; and its object, like our own,
is mental and moral improvement. If you make
such a work your study during the vacation
months, I shall expect great things in the coming
session."
The secretary then rend an interesting report
of the past year's proceeding;*, from which it ap-
peared that during the session nine essays had
been delivered by the members on the following
subjects, namely : — 1, " Penury, morally and le-
gally considered ; " 2, " Patriotism : " 3, " Love ; "
4. " Conscience ; " ft, " Peace and War ; " 6, " The
Chemistry of Flowers ; " 7, " Frivolous Arouse-
menu ;" 8, •' Time ; " and 9, " Sociality."
The following important questions had also
been discussed, viz.: — 1, "Ought slavery to be
instantly or gradually abolished ? " 2, " Ought a
member of parliament to vote according to his
own opinion or to that of the majority of his con-
stituency?" 3," Whether is there more pleasure
derived from the eye or the ear 7" 4, ** Whether is
there more pleasure derived fh)m the giving or
rteodring a benefit?" 5, "Was Wellington or
Naj>oieon the greater man?" 0/' On^VA dansiuf^
It may also be stated, that arrangvmcnts hvt
been made to enable the members to ei^oy one or
two pleasure excursions during the sanDStcr
months, to keep up their interest in the elsss ttU
the approach of winter, when it is eonfidestfr
expected we shall be ensibled to resume oar latst-
ings with a very oonsiderable addition to om
numbers.
KirkinlUlock Toting Men'9 Mutual Iwtfnm^
ment Society— The Uiird social meeCiDg of tLb
society was held on the evening of Wednc«isf,
the 1 1th of May, in the ustial place of meetiB^
New Post Office.
At a (quarter to seven o'clock the members tt^
their fneuds sat down to tea. Afterwards tki
chairman. Mr. Robert Allan, jnn., manafhclarff,
Kirkintilloch, amidst great applause, dslivefcd s
very excellent speech, in which be dwelt mmA
upon tlie necessity of baring Hxed principles, sal
showed by mvans of exsmples, known to nsa
present, the serious and dangerous oonscqneans
that were likely to result to youug men finoin their
going abroad into the world and into busiaitt
with their minds wholly unsettled. He Asa
called upon the secretary, Mr. J. Russell, to ml
a ststement of the society's busineas. From Ail
it appeared that the society bad been in exisleaa
since the ftth of June last year ; that during All
time twenty-four original essays on Tarioos sa^
jects had been read by members ; that a flirt
number of sul^ects had been debated, sooe «f
which, fh>m the fi;reat interest they excited, hsi
occupied the society daring three nin^ts; 1M
members were gradually inereasinic in nnmbsrs:
and that a library had been establiabed, whkk
had already risen to seventy yolumes, besides As
circulation amongst members of sereral poMi*
cals and reviews, such as the ** BritUk Cumtvvmt
sialist," *' Edinburgh Review," *« Tsnpcnacs
Review," &c. The report having been adopted, s
vote of thsnks was given to the retiring secrttuy.
The treasurer, Mr. J. Allan, then read bis report.
which showed that the ftmds of tiM sodc^ wm
in a satisfketory eoiulition; to whom also atvtt
> of thanks was given.
THE iSQinaanSb
The dininiNni tfaen called apoit each member
present to npenk, when several rwy able adUresem
were given on suoh snbjeots as the following,
** The iieceMiiy of not liviuir fbr nothing, ' by Mr.
R. Scott: " A comparison between the oultivalor
of the ground ana the onltivator of the mind,"
bj Mr. D. Menzies ; '* The necoMity v( studying
acienoe in its moral aa well as intellectual as-
paoc," by Mr. D. Chajiman. During the intervals
between the speeches the company waa ealifeBed
by songs and recitations, and relhwhed bvseiwral
courses of (huts and sweetmeats. Finaily, a vaia
of thanks was given to Uie ohairman for Um
able manner in wbioh he had conducted the btti»>
nefts of the meeting; and, after passing a very^
happy evening, the proeetMlings wens otoesd at
twelve o'clock by the members siiigiag ** ^uld
Lang Syne."
€|t Smjuinr.
QUESTIONS REQUIBIN6 ANSWERS.
107. I wish to be informed whether a gentleman
who desires to enter the ministry of the Church of
Sngland, can prepars fbr the same in Kiijg's
Col^gei (London) -the course of study pursued
—the lime requi^te to be spent tliereiu — the qua-
HAoalioiis necessary for admission ttiereia — and
the expenses incurred for tuition, lodgings, &c. ?
— ^Btuum.
168. Would any of yonr law flriends be so kind
•a to answer the ibllowing queries ? 1st. What in
the corresponding term in EnKlish law to th^
Heoioh " Adooeate f " and 3nd. What are the ne-
aassary studies and general qualifications for
admission to the Scotch bar? — with anythiiiv
•onneeted with these questions that is useful and
interesting.— I am, &c. J. L.
mv. BoMiLCAft.— Keqiiired the literal signifi-
cation of ihb name, which was bume by two
arlebrttted Carthaginians and one Numidian ? It
ia eviMiently a similar comiMimd of the god Mel-
€0rth as the name Hamiicary which is thus
ilefiiied in Dr. Smith' $ Clanicai Dictionary,
p, MO. ind «W.,~** The two last syllables of this
■■me (Hamilear) are the same as Melcarth, the
tBtalary deity of tne Tynans, called by tJie (ji-eeks
Hercuhts. and the name probably signifies * the
gift of MeUarth: "— W. G. H .
170. Some months ago my attention was di-
laof d to a poragraph which appeared in some of
Um proTiucial newspapera, to the effect tlmt a
Vraneh engineer (if I mistake nut) hail declared
by means of a very simple ex]>erimeut. he
succeeded in rendering visible the minute
cules of which the atraosphera i» compiised.
The experiment is this : — Take a circular piece of |
eani, about an inch in diameter, painted black, I
and perfiorated in the centre by a tine sewing- I
■eadle : and then, closing one eye, and holding
tba cacrd at a convenient distance from the other,
so as to eiwble the experimenter to look through :
tha amall hole into the atmosphere on the othier
tida, he will observe, very distinctly, the iniiiuu;
aorpoaelea of air composing the " orb of atoms "
\if wbieh the earth is surrounded. The para-
graph just referred to stated that the allcgeti dis- |
«ov«ry bad been referred to the investigaiiim of
eoa of the scientific soi-ieties of France ; but not
kariug heard the result, I should feel much
aMigied if ooa of your talented correspondents
sottU fumiirik ma With the required inrurraatiun :
My §ar my owa part, having repeated tlie experi-
it, 1 Tery ■BatBh doubt whether the molecules
thus observed are anything more than paiikka of
du»t floatiug in the atmosphere.— J . S.
171. 1 Should also like to be informed if the
" Pendulum expeiiment," which was so popular
some time since, is based upon correct scientific
principles? and it it is generally considered by
the learned to afford an accurate illustratiou of
the diurnal rotation of tlie earth ?— J. S.
172 A friend of mine has lately informed me
that he has established a geometncol demonstra-
tion, by which he i» able to construct an eliipaia
by a geometrical continued motion. Am I oov-
rect ill supposing that he is labouriug uudar a
mistake 7— S r an i s la u a.
173. Will some of your readera favour ma with
a fair and concise paaaphrase of the following?'-
" So s]iake ttie prince of angels ; to whom thua
The ailversanr. Nor think thou with wmd
Of aery Uireats to awe whom yet with deeds
Thuu causi noL Hast thou turned the least of
tliese
To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise
Unvaiiqiiished, eahier to transact with ms
That thou shouldsl hope, imperious, and with
threHts,
To chase me henre ? Err not, that so shall enil
The strife which thou call'st evil, but we style
The strife of glory ; which we mean to win,
Or turn this heaven it»elf into the hell
Thou lablevt; here, however, to dwell free.
If not to reign. Meanwhile, thy utmost force.
And join bun named Almighty to tliy siil,
I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh."
Explain, also, the construction of the three first
lines in the foregoing quotation. — Stami^i^us.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
140. Logically True and Practically Fal*e. —
The instructions of " Homo " are sailly cuJkd to
account by your correspondent B. S. For my
own part, 1 should have lelt obliged to him if he
hail given us any asHistauce in our eiideavmtra to
solve the ditficultv ; but with all due deii-rence to
him as a man of superior learning lu myself, I
beg t^ stiite that he has made " coufu!ti(»n wnrse
couibunded." 1 still abide by my assertion, that
" the logic by which ' Homo's' friend proves the
'monHtrouN absunlitr' is founded upon the sup-
poHition that any given apace can be divided into
injinity, which U anything hu* logic." TIuh caa
be plainly seen by consulting the stat'meot aa
given by " Homo.' AAer siatung .tlie metliod by
which tlie hour hand still soixtmuei in advaaoa
\
274
THE IXQUIRER.
of the minute hand, he tajr*, " and so we might
go on for ever;" showing plainly that his idea
was, that at evtry tlep there would still be a space
between them over tlie twelfth part of which the
hour hand would pass whilst the minute hand
would pass over the whole, and so oh for ever.
If he had not an idea that space could be divided
into infinity, how could he have said, '* for ever?"
Surely.ybr ei^er is equal to injinity ! It is some-
what strange that B. S. should throw aside my
■tatemeut, and then directly make the same in
other words; thus,— tliat it is founded on the
supposition "that a given space can be divided
into an infinite number of infinitesimally small
portions ;" which B. S. says we '* cannot deny."
I, however, do deny it, and defy him to support
it, either by reason or common sense. Here is
about the same display of logic as is manifested
by the original statement as given by " Homo's "
friend ; for, surely, if it can be divided into an in-
ftnite number^ it can be divided into infinity?
But these are unsound premises, and the inference
drawn ttieretVom will prove unsound also. Look
at the premises, " infinite number ! " It is a ma-
nifest absurdity ; one word annihilates the other.
The iniinite can have no finitt* predicate, and vice
versa. Nor is the difficulty obviated by consider-
ing them to be "infinitesimally small portions,"
because an infinitesimal is something ii\finitettf
small, at which sound reason rt>.volts. If we once
admit the premises that a given space can be
divided into "un infinite number of portions,"
and that the minute must have time and space in ;
tiie same ratio, it follows as an unavoidable in-
ference that tlie minute hand may b*avel on for
ever, and will never be able to overtake the hour
hand. (An tfi^n<74> nt/m&er of portions of time is
for ever.) Thus the inference is false, which we
all know, and the premises proved false also. Be-
cause it cannot be reduced to the form of a syl-
logism (by what I know of a syllogism I think,
however, that it can), B. S. says, **ut the very
outset logic disowTiM oiid condemns iL" I hold
logic to be " the right use of our reason in search
after truth." Thus it lays hold of everythioir, and
either proves or disproves. If " school logic "
requires so much indulgence, I am thankful Uiat
I was never" rolled in it!< dust." — A L4B0i:reu.
If "Homo's" real object had been to amuse
himself by thr«.>wing dust in the eyes of your cor-
respondents, he would, methinks, have felt much
gratified by his success, as he could not have
read the replies to his query, without ]>erccivinf'
how beautifully most of his well meaning " in-
structors" have missed their way. Indeed the
only rt*ply which comes at all near the true point
at issue, is that of your lost correspondent, B. S.
Your first correspondent, E. S. J., begins cor-
rectly enough by saying, tliot "Homo" does not
require proof that the two hands will come to-
gcther, beinf; satisfied that the swifter will over-
take the slower. Yet he presently goes on to say,
that the grand question is w^hether the hands will
simultaneously attain a certain spot; and not
content with thus lo^inpr sight of the question, he
assumes tliis spot to be 1 o'clock, declaring the
proof as positive as anything in geometry, that
the hands will certainly meet there— an assertion
which is palpably absurd.
Next comes " A Labourer," who, like the pre-
ceding correspondent, edifies *' Homo" with sun-
dry iireleraninnnarki on lo^oVn g^tieT«ii,'V(\\hQu&
enlightening him at all as to the real natore of tkc
fallacy in question.
H. J. R. also mistakes the question when h»
argues upon the mechauiual propertiea of a dock.
" Homo's " friend's argument is merely another
form of the sophism of Zeuo coucemiug Ackilks
and the tortoise; and H. J. B. might as vcU
argue upon the "jumps" of Achilles, as upon tbs
"jumps" of the minute hand, lu titlker case,tb«
simple consideration involved is, that of two as*
equal uniform motions, which may be assooMd
perfectly steady and continuous, — the qoestioa
thus becoming abstract, without any esseoial
alteration in the nature of the sophism.
From K.G.'s observations I understand him to
say, tliat, setting aside certain mechanical eoa>
siderations in the case proposed — such as ** fine-
tion of machinery," "breadth of clock-haDds,"
and " another circumstance or two," — " the ob-
nute would never overtake the hour hand." K.G.
here good naturedly concedes " Homo's" frieofs
position, and tlius "ignores" the very tsJlaey
which he ouirht to have pointed out.
J. B. rightly apprehends the question ; but ft
may be doubted whether his attempt at syllogiMD
wili be accepteil by " Homu*s" friend as a bir
representation of the argument.
B. S. clearly stales Uie case in these wnrds/-*
" ' Homo' admits that the minute hand will ovs-
take the hour hand, and wishes logic to be clr«ei
of the imputation of proving the contrary.** I
think, however, that his explaiuition of the fiU
lacy leaves room for a few further remarks, whidi
I hope I may be permitted to make.
Let us now suppose it 1 o clock, at whiditine
the minute hand is exactly 6 minute spaces be-
hind the hour hand. The question, as befcfv
observed, is not whether the minute hand *iB
overtake the other; for this is a lisct wluek
' Homo's" friend himself admits, when he drsi;^
nates tlie contrary asserii«)n a ** monstrous sb>
surdity," and selects it as the thing ** practiodly
false" to be establishe<l by his freak of htdt.
The point to be decided is, whether thi« " niioa-
strous absurdity" does logrically follow from lbs
argument by which it is professed to be prtntd ;
and if not, wherein does die fallacy lie? The
argument runs thus, — when the minute hand htf
travelled over the 5 minute spaces, the hour hsai
will have advanced ^*,; while the minute haai
travels over the ^j, Uie hour hand will ad«sace
yIt, &c. &c. " And so," says " Homo's ' frumi.
"we might go on for ever, and still the mtnute
hand unmld never overtake the hour hemd." This
reasoning has one merit at leaf»t, that we msf
assent to every part of it except the concluttM.
It is quite true, that when the minute haai
reaches 1, the hour hand wili be -j>, in adraBo.;
that wlien the minute has gone over this, ths
hour hand will be ^\f in advance; and tliat tki*
subdivision may be repeated as often »a we pleasa.
Yet the conclusion by no means follims. Tkr
/tillacff lies in reasoning upon the snpponti^^
that these successive diminution* o/ iht ori^imtl
distance between the two hastds require uni/i>m
times /or their completion. Were this indeed the
case, tht'. inference would be true. If these *■»-
cessive diminutions (which are, in Ihct, meniy
subdivisions of the original distmee) wvtk cae4
to occupy a definite uniform period of tiar, ths
repetition of such periods as often as there might
be subdivbion*, namely, aa iufiuits aambcr of
THE niQUIRKR.
275
times, would assuredly produoe an infinity ofj
time. Ik is here that *' Homo's" (Hend outruns
his dAta, as the following considerations will
shew. Furst, the finite distanve between the two
bttods, being equal to the sum of all its parts,
neeesaarily comprehends the whole of those dimi-
notoiy portions by which it is successively re.
daeed, or, in other words, the whole of its sub-
divisions, which become infinite in number onlv
bjr decreasing ad infinitum^ or becoming infini-
of successiTe journeys requires an infinite
number of successive portions of time.
Biiuor. — The minute hand in endeavouring to
overtake the hour hand, has to perform an
infinite number of successive joiunevs.
Conclusion. — ^Therefore the minute hand in en-
deavuurinK, &c., requires an infinite number
of successive portions of time.
Taking this conclusion as the minor premise o£
tforimally small. Secondly, this finite distance i j o •
and its subdivisions, being me««re« of the time$ M<«or.— An infinite number of successive por-
w which they are respectively performed, occupy I V""\ ^^ ^'"*® [iupjxisinif them non^erreat^
pniportionalfy decreasing penods of time for their «f r/» *"< ««' olhertc»se) constitute a period o£
completion; from which it follows, that these „. time which can never end.
periods,thoughinfiniteinnumber,like the spaces Minor.— The nunute hand in endeavouring to-
bj which thcT are measured, are merely corres-
ponding subdivisions of a finite period of time. !
" Homo " will thus perceive, that although it takes
5 minutes to diminish the original distance of 5
minute spaces to ^, it does not require another
5 minutes to diminish this ^^Xo ^, and another
to reduce it again to yAt • &c- It ^* ^ ^^ neglect
of thb simple fact that the fallacy consists. The
supposition of uniform, or, at least, non-decreas-
ing times for these successive dimunitions, is
in
overtake tlie h«;ur hand requires an iniinile
number of succcmIvc portions of time.
Conclusion. — Therefore tlie minute hand in en-
deavouring, &c., requires a period of time
which can never end.
The falsity oC the conclusion is here again shown
to be owing to the false predicate of the miyjor
premise.
With regard to the fact of the coi\junction of
the hands, as a subject uf itself, I have here, of
piicisely the data which is vantin// in this re- ; course, uutliing to say ; but it might be interest-
doubtable argument, and which is neceuary to
reofier its conclusion " logically true." At the
same time it is evident that such data, if granted,
would a£ once render the conclusion" practically"
true— that is, true in point of fact ; and hence, in
eidier case, the hypotliesis of its being '* practi-
cally fidse" while ''logically true," must fall to
the ground.
I mav be allowed to add. as some of your cor- 1
respondents appear to think the point must be i
decided by formal logic, that I cannot agree with i
those who represent the argument as illogical I
merely on the ground of its being irreducible to j
syllogistic form. On tlio contrary, this spurious
argument may be reduced to syllogism, and in
this form its Allacy may be shown to consist in
the fidse aiisuroptiou above explained. The argu-
ment taken continuously forms a sorites : thus —
AiaB. — The minute hand in endeavouring to
OTortake the other, has to perform an infinite
number of successive journeys; viz., 6 i^f,&c.
B is C. — The performance of an infinite nuinlM>r
of successive journeys re(|uire3» an infinite
number of successive portions of time.
C is D. — An infinite number of successive por-
tions of time isupposivg them non-decrfOM-
ing, but not otherwue) constitute a period uf
time which can never end.
A is D. — Therefore the minute hand in endea-
vouring to overtake the other requires a
period of time which can never end.
From tliis we see, that while the conclusion is
•trictly legitimate as an ij{/erencf, its truth fails
by nnMon of the unsound predicate of the third
IRopoaition, which rests on suppoMtional data
not granted in the question. Henco the conclu-
rion is not "logically true;" for although logic
inaarea syOogistir accuracy of inference, it no-
wlksre deelares that a coiichiRion thus obtained is
true of itaelf, unless drawn from certain premises.
It only ranalns to obviate objection, by expand-
ing tiio preceding sorites into two distinct syllo-
glsmt or the first figure: thus—
Mi|jorw— Thoptribimanoe of an infinite number
ing to show, Uiat the various arithmetical aspects
under which it may be viewed, are strictly con-
sistent with the preceding explanation.— Anti-.
Zbno. — The discussion of this sidyect must now
be brought to a close.— E us.
142. IIow to obtain Eiue and Power in Debate*
— "Tantffi-ne aniinis c<Blesiibus iree"?— or, haa
I'^Jiolla" (like honest Dogberry) mistaken the
*' ejTcommunication" of my person for the " ex-
aMinalion" of my remarks ?
" J am Sir Oi'aeJe,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark,"
seems to be the style in which UoUa views him-
self, as compared h ith those who may dispute his.
iufallibiliiy. This character is by no inoaus suited
to my own taste. I shall, therelore, neither brand
his sentiroeoLs as being " common as htreot bal-
lads among a despicable class," nor accuse him
of " litei-ary pride."* I leave " Tiraon " and those
interested in the present topic to estimate the
controversial value of the oll-repcated phrases,
'* height of dogmatism," " greatest assurance," Uc.y
and to coin]>ure them with my own simple declara-
tion that Rolla had fallen into " a grave error."
• In return, however, for" iioW<i'»"ii»iW<?r banter
on my supposition tliot the compositor hud ik)s-
sibly wronged him. I will ask who is answerable
lor the extraordinary appOJ>ition uf " synihttic
faculty on the one hand," and '' synthetictil faculty
on the other "—(p. 233, bottom of ci>l. 2) ? One is
reminded of Rip Van Winkle's perplexity,—" Im
not myself— Im somebody else, — that's me— no
—that's somebody else got into luy shoes."
There is another remarkable passage, the glory of
which certainly belongs solely to Rolla, viz. —
where he tells us that*'et</ier to confirm or et-
plode a given theory, according to inductive phi-
losophy, ii is required that we examine the pre-
mises on which it stands, nn^firetvrove that they
are erroneous ! " How proving tlie premises to
be erroneous can confirm a theory, is certainly,
as " BoUa " represents it, something " more than
is dreamt of in my philosophy."
276
THE MQUIBBB.
*• Holla » " remarks are ho ttucursive that I tiiink | *' ^>ir J. Mackintosh on liii legs in dM Honae d
it necessaiy t-> »tate the origin ami subject of tbe . Gommurai was out of his proper elemeBl," ** kit
present discussiou. If I mistake not, tlie practical
answers to "Timon's" question are to l»e found
in tb« remarks of '* .Etna" and in the last para-
graph of my own reply. "Tiroon" ooinplained
of an *' inabiliiy tu reply to the arguments nnd
obje<:ti<iua brought forward in a debating society,
in the aptcijud tune required," But " Rttlla"
passing by ttieM> points, read " Timon" a harsh
lecture on his Hssumed"lack or logical rontinup
ity." In ibe first pdragmph of ray own remarks.
I expn»t»1y lelt this delicate point to " Timon's "
consri'Mii-c, endoning tlie tniih of " RoUa»'"
practical advice in case the defect existed : and I
then proceeded to oppose •* Rolla's " theory, on
epeak-ing was a constant effort, a tag up bilL" It
would be easy to multiply instanora. Scoondhr.
I did not remark on " Rolla s " obsemtknis m to
ftrtion, as I conceived that their one-sided d»
racter wan sufficient to condemn them. TW
sweeping censure he has parsed on fldkm dsc*
him but little honour. Whatever he the pnaM
ralne of partirnlar irorlrt, fiction has its nJoe.
The exquisite nnd touching parmbles of the K«v
Testament, and the almost divine productioni of
poetry, are not leM Actional than the tbiw-
volumed works which encumber tbe ahdvci of
our circulating libraries. The novel bears aaci
the same relation to our own day that the dnraa
the grounds that it wn» erroneous in itself, and at : did to tbe days of Elizabeth. Shakspeari tmi
variance with hi^ ultimate advice. The question, i Scott belong to tlie same brotherhood, and tbrc
then, between " Holla " and myself, was the rela-
tive value of annlysis and synthesis.
" Rolla " <lf dares that I have not attempted
** to expknle " his i>rinciples. Let the reader judge
between us. I represent synthesis as "the high-
est power of the intellect ; " wliile he tenns ana-
lysis " the nobler" faculty. I trace the origin of
analysis to t'e " feeMenese " of man ; while he
declares syiitliesis to be " natural, cai'y, and plea-
sin*^ 10 tlie mmd." He claims the ureat reviews
as analytical critiinsm : I tilaim them as syntlio-
tical " (lis«|inHiti(»nH."* It sun-ly requires no
Solon to perceive that the two lines of argument
cannot 1:0. exist; llia.1 i/ one he true the other U
Jalsr. '• HoUait" remarks rest on ** Rolla n" simple
assertions, while my vii^tv (d'the relative value of
I>oints of resemblance are neither ttm nor smlL
There are fictions which will as assmvdly p
down to posterity as those reviews which cognu
the whole of " Rolla m" sympathies. ** BuBa
scorns the iilea of Baron being n novelist ; doa
he know that Bacon embodied his gwieiw
visions of his own philosoi>hy and its rvsnlls. ia
the Bha]>e of a fiction, in his " New itilanlis?
Rolla attributes the comiHwition of iiovt>isto "* tfce
woritiiigs of the tynihetical fncntty;" but if I
mistake not, tliis iilea is based only cm the coafs-
sion of the literal with the philosophical miiMiin;
of the term. Analytia gives the novelist a csa-
mand over th« " raw materials " of his an— Ibe
emoiions and passions of man : themMnmlbr
commences liis worK he enters on a new spbe;*,
analynis and Hynihetis is suiiported by a quota- 1 and tlie words analysis and syntltesit can &>
tation from Whateley, and n)y observations on I more be applifd to the eom|>osition of a novel
reviews are sup|ioited by examples; and yet ' than to the painting of a fH>rti ait; both may > by t
" Ui>lla" represents my article as **|>oint blank { quibble) be termed synthetical, ainie they srr.
contru'iiciion. ' and as *' baseless as the fitbric of a respectively, a puttintf toijether of sentences ani
of paint. A novel is an ano/y/tra/ faft/'^AN of lor
human passions nnd emotions, ariistirally s-
ranorcd. The tynthrtical facultv is rv«|uirad tr
tliR novelist only in thnt test qf hit poirers,-dK
— _. _ - - -_ construction of a i/oac/ ja/of.
in niy reinnrks, and it c-rtainly ne\er existed in ' Rolla triumpiiaiitly inf|iiire« on what gronc-
mv tiKMitrhts. 1 iipitenl to any n'nderto say whe- I declate Eucliil's reasomnc to be i>urt-lv svnibr-
vision: " /^l//«* ' assorts that I " arcidentally
admit the premisfs of our [Rolla's) theorj*." and
then Hirinvrs to»;ethcr n series of contradictions as
*• the driit of my " lulvii;* to * Tiinou.' " This
** accidental ' admission I can nowhere discover
iippeni to any n'nderto say whe- 1 declate Jiucliil's reasoninc to be purt-ly synibr
ther I evei allowed that " fiition, i iealism, poi'tic < tical. I do so, because it exactly arrords *^1
Higliis, uiironneercil scntem-es, &r." were the the definition of synthesis, i.e. it " piir>u«« t
results of he syntl.eic lueulty; wliellier I evt-r
represented synihi-Nis ax synonymous with mere
*' coMipiiing ninl proihiciuK. "
series of rvlntions, commeniing with what r^
given, and emlinu with what is Hougbt." I adrx:
tliat he who truly undemMnds a given prof«>*'r
There »er»- two puinit in '* Rnlla's^ or'ginal t ion in Euclid, and can see "through it Inmi tt'
remark'' which I did not controvert in exprrt* * beirintiing to the end," will also be wble to *4t
nytrils ; )Mir its he c(>in]»liiins iliat I did not sufii
cii'iiily explode his pn'oiiseii. I will now attempt
to do xo. K i-st then. I asM-rt that " lack of ease
and pow»T"'iii oral dchate (the only spwHrs to
wliich " Tinioii " refers) ilo.-s not necessiirily arise
from " (Ificriive inentnl tu liim
point. I will tuke t«o 01 thowe revii*wers whom
'' llollii ' hiLs chosHi) Hs n-pre«.i>iitatives, par emi
nem'f. ul" iii« nulii^uti'd intellect of the present
("entnry : — .lidin Ko'-ler. who could never succeed
in tiie NiniiilcH* •ii-pHrtiiients uf oml debate, and
Sir J Mn'kii< o h.tif wioin Maoju 'ay says, thai,
* * It 'l..!, liisii-ailoraiiswerinumv remarks on
reviews, iii-. abused iht-m. He will find an exact
tniii-4cri|it «»f my sentiments in the first sixteen
line- oi" , Kup Ni lit this magnzine. Why. then.
through it " back again fh»m the end to the >>• ^m-
ning.' 1 1 is for tki* reaum I say to ** Tinwn
" Learn to syntbetixe— you may * r^en anai)C^
with safely." Tbe reverse of litis i^* not irue: m
wlio understands tlie OMalytieat proof trf' ■! rr
In proof of this ! aAfur«/r> demuustmiiou is not thereby •nai.Mi*
demonstrate tlie same proposition Mffnt*t^ttem:h
" Rolla " has only illustrated the |Hiint tur «bvi
I ctmtend, — the superior value of synthesis- I-
is true that " Algebra and tlie Differv-nt:ai CsJ-
culus" aie chit fly analytiral ; nuil wbu d«ws i««
know that alvebra could never explain the m\*
tery of imatfinsry quaniiiies (e. r. V— I) witil
geometry came to its aid? *• Jiotfa" will, pe^
hafis. bow to ihe <ipiniuos of Newion. ** NewMC
used to sfieak witb remvt ot bis misiake, at tikf
beirinninir of bis mathematical atiidir*, in havisic
the!* he con icswtid to write in paires which give I applied himself to the works of Urs Cartes aui
uue/ariceiu view» ** coumou u iu«K^Mi\ite^" \ ^Ahar cl^ebrsiaa writers, bcfbra Im hui cowi-
■- 1 rlirtil bUH of liw iltjt Tkr uuni
™ I ounSwunl^y.lOrHii " — - -
hoiH— '■ WiH>jiakna<iiuaij(«afHtiT.lrtbiBinui| bit uuuui. Win-n tlw iwu mei, tfaiir i
in HnimHciion to injr nmsrlia. UiM " tb< mini iiiliakliuiU of tbt iriWc will all Ika il>r •
laiaiuaaf DEJijwMpiD^uiiilTiiiwiMTnthHii:.' vhkh lliir lUKtr Tu Ilii* 1 ibd mil) uuiri
Itctti'D i> ihr iHdtBii rbUHteriuld uT ill Ux I pnibablr b* ln|inil>l« 1m u* >« i^^L'^
aaiihttbitot litivf," How Airilw pivudHHi wiir- j vrUr U10 uiswer, ILQ-hmibI
don, Ibu 'Auil/iiH bu iu iin«iii iu Iba mm I ou ■ Kwur-lay.
t*> Wioj.'-KBiuma " p'liUwwpbT dT
WhMcm b* thouffht of m pbllannplifrt] «rilbi ' II wiinMc^irlf bf limaTRiiiTiltoiiulivOmii-
iTiniiorphiluwKiiTr" Suflf lb* iirUuiiniin | etmin-nw. ThmHan I piupujie ta ui<~ir Uw
|i)nl-i(Ofb)'kn'i«diM Anf'urln(tb*uiibarnll iiiKMliin.— tliiirnlull ilujh Iw uaninl u<liin«nt
MaiiJla»ti,-ihia«hail)u«i<Hiiil.l>iiiiCiiRa>wis Uh iiiklilla vf (br ilaj, iinJ ii> Uiu nn^bbinin
■^in|tm«,"»nlin>>vuu^niF>iiMr~ H|Hm | mar aBilmiaBil mtIi uibrrT
bi4t m AihHuilv. 1 luw iHtbin^ In ttiibo-- I Lk llh> inamili brlwiYU 13 p.m. Twiuifw ud
BMbtnn bi iiliDil— luidilnii >g iiiuliiy— or I auolil , l-Jp.m. Wr<liivMi(; at liiwnwicb, kIkii Uic aim
ftanklr mJ ditillir ilo ao. Itutir Ibt m-ttr la , l> on IhF nmidmu sT hit ■>!•»■. bf nIM Um
bnMdomnnnilb" IIwI'>/M<m" HdwIiiibHi , iiulifa Iha WnlaMlayB uT <l IKfiiiit piun ibc
■lUtaDriijr rbr nHMtlon. mil mruinrd M uawer I I'liHriiiidHinniirpliKwilHHiIdbciUliinlithiHtkc
tb*|-l(ii mJ-lsriain mnHriii an uiaKak buI t;ali'uiia Turvliy iiin<t br lallvd Tuindaj (iM II .
■ynlbnliquotodbiriiHlrMiiARblMHipH'liJb'lT. Tlie iblluaii.M Mbli aill illiulnla ui; midn.
IraalbBTOboaDlirlbTniilb. Had lir ;wnl liv CHb:iiIIH <i|i.in'.Tii.|!>uli.):< a.iii. FrlimJf'.j
mj on nmuka on KikIM Bid wi UitiMOiaiil. 1 Nfn Vnik . . ..; a.m.Tu.m W.i* |. m. ih )7.-.v.|
]uEKivi,li>iiiBMIimbwinl<<<hiiibtiiiy>)ri>ii. sJiMiibh^l^'^laiuTiMIIUH-.'jii^ii'.rhll^lbw!)
Ibldb noTF «b>rirlyivi tlie jnili^; to .iiarHi l<ir iif TuuMlay.auJ U|iiil Tiiurtday, wiU bd called
oWtajturf iIm <iu|i|)uniii« li-diiiwiir of Nawlciii at Iba iilim iii Uir lint ralBiui.
«■) OIK luliil. Mid of Ur. HnntB an ani-tiHr. Tbli |ilui sould isalw il iwy la di'lmniiM
IniiH irUntVino iba tanirnvnir, and leave ilir thr day and llw buur M aiiy pliisa.alH'ii ii-i luu-
vptHBdiw tlKoririi 10 Ibv cricii'al judifini nt nt ibu fitiHli: u kiiuvn ; for we Danl inJy »ld 10 vt
dtfti>n<irnMlwliiriilb^li<'TnUb>lrutlibaaiu>t duiNa of a>( ur wni Iraaiiudo i«v«ilvi!ly. in
fallm inb> brlirrhawli.— fi. H. Ivniritiidr iKaikw.tliutmiwIuiRvbaj.Uiniiwaiild
IM. S"tali"ii of a HrOfrapkit-al l-mhlrm.— It twa niiiaHi fur Um lania din ; Ibui tt pjo.
Thamiitalu nutfc Inr Uie InvclVn Id our aiifi- WadiHiadnU (iiMnakh weulrf b*u ■.■>. Wed-
podn, incHlliiiKUie tuurdajrbydilfi'mitiiBiiirii, nniilay (INI W), ur it ■.■■. TbiirHlar [IHU li.),
journeT in cillinK dideimt tbiun bf llir suiia wdio-lT lin* mi Ibir iin* iif Ibw diHknItt, nor
n*B*. jdwiiUr b'la.muiTnrbhbiHiH. OfoiincU
nury on ¥ursd^ u iiwni. Tlini '^Twlay 1 nlnluda Itbl ik*. fnm Waal In Kiiat WEmiHladd
MHWia Uie iqaior of SI Ihiw*. 11 Id' whlrb hue ■ day, or Um IniiiUir mial cbimglb* iiunwor
.lut iiaiMd. and II an Jim pHiiiuniEinii. Tba Uir day of l.-bi aniial ftum WiaJunday [Itiu Wj
anil iioa your nitrldlau. In iirKiivly dl buun biTliurvlay [IW l-'.i.ntulrirr n-na^. 11.
Uia lun w>U b< ainin HI tour mnvhan; aud In : IiVk '14ii.Valarr«/(*r Aaai/J-^y.-IflbiiHiB
St nitnulu allmanli iIm huu Hill Im "n Iha apra a lualr ••< Hit, It S. will pnwiw Ibal ili*
luiidiBn of tbr plMe at wlilcli liai Iran-IL-r will iinirr «a a<lvani»d 10 It Ibr wnraiap a( tlinald
rsiin I Hie. uid h.l d^nu diMily in mmt'ul it. and u
nI[iur|>ih)>rb>iliKyiu liuvlUy can, ami ynuM tlw
vniuu. barL.aml yiia nailuall* Inl lau and Itai of Ibt
ly Ihnlj iuUiirtire i-i llw lire. Now It S. will pl™-t 10
jdayilbiowillnialirlbenundH-rgfiiiilaliwtllcd
278
TBB TOUNO BTUDBHT AND WRITEB's AJWISTAHT.
transport this idea into " H>aoe," and imagine the
sun to be a body of fire, and then answer the
aueation, " Which part of otir earth ought to be
le warmest, the tops of the mountains or tho
plains beneath ? " Why, according to this theory,
It ought to be the mountiun-tops ; but so far fh>m
this being the case, very many of them are covered
with a " winding-sheet " of" eternal snow." The
plsins are the warmest ; they receive the most of
the germinating influences of the sun ; conse-
qu«Dtl^,the sun cannot be a '* body of fire" What,
then, IS the proper theory of heat? and to this
question R. S. has himself furnished an answer ;
** the sensation of heat which is felt is produced
by the action of the above atmosphere (sun's)
upon the latent calorie of the bodies of animals.
We think, also, tbat our atmooiihere has some-
thhig to do wiUi the production of heat. The
atmosphere, R. 8. no doubt knows, decreases in
density according to its distance from the earth ;
the highest part being the most rare, the lowest
mut, or the part next the earth, the most dense.
On this ground then, we think, that the action of
ttie sun's luminous atmosphere on the atmosphere
of the earth increases or decreases, according to
the density or rarity of the earth's atmosphere,
because we find that where the atmosphere is
rare, the heat is at its minimum ; but where it is
dense, the heat is at its maximum.
Again, most of the astronomers of the present
day nold the theory of the ** Nebular hypothesis.**
This hypothesis (which was first iotrodnoed la
Jhe science of astronomy by the great BcrscfadD,
and was afterwards reduced to system by the
equally great French astronomer. La Plaoe) h«>Us
that all matter (that is, the sun, with all hb pb>
nets and sateUites, and all the stars tbat " inhabit
our milky way," and all other parts of the ani>
verses, scattinred through the " vast immensity of
space ") ori^ally existed as a apedes of lurainoas
nebulie, this nebuhe had a mocion similar ta that
which the earth has now, and the effect of that
motion was to make the matter eondenae into ioi
centre, but as the process of condensation was
going on, luminous rings were ooeasaonaUf
etached from the rest, these laminoos rings aha
maintaining the motion which the parent mass
had, {pidually condensed also ; these luminras
rings m course of time became planets, and the
great central mass became a sun, thus forming a
planetary system ; and hn immense number flf
these systems form the universe. B. S. will por-
ceive by this theory what the nature of the saa
is ; he will perceive that it was not created pos-
terior to the earth, nor yet anterior to it, but tbfjr
were created simnltaneoiuly. For a fuUer expla-
nation of this theory, I would refer B. S. t»
"Mitchell's Planetary and Stellar UnivcrK;'
Collins' edition, price 2s. He will find ** Hiulh
cock's Religion of Geology," also piioe j^, ta bs
an excellent expositor of the nature of the eaith.
—Waltee.
^t ^nnng Ittttont null Wvkfs aasistaut.
LOGIC CLASS.
Junior.— ride "Art of Reasoning," No. VII.,
Vol. I. — What is it necessary that man should
learn 7 By what has man purchased his supe-
riority in physical science 7 Why do the laws
and principles of the human mind exist? What
is intuition? What is truth ? What truths does
intuition reveal? How does sensation operate?
On what do we rely for the accuracy of sense-
derived information? How do yuu prove that
" the evidence of the senses" is worthy of depen-
dence ? How may the theory of " Necessary
Truths" be made compatible with the sense,
origin of knowledge 7 What is memory? How
does it operate ? What is analogy 7 Of what use
is it in science ? Define testimony, and mention
in what il is useful. What are the principles on
which we confide in testimony? What laws
ought to regulate our belief in testimony ? What
is probability, and by what law is reasoning frm
probability governed ?
Protfctior. — Exercise No. VII., Vol. II.
Senior. — Imagination: its Nature and OfBce;
its Dependence on Memory and Consciousness
(see Rhetoric, *' Imaginative Faculty," &c.; Akea-
side's "Pleasures of Imagination;'* AddiMa't
"Essays," Spectator, Noa. 411—31; Brovn;
Stewart ; Payne ; Reid, Essay IV., &c.).
GRAMMAR CLASS.
Exerei$es in Grammar. Xo. XVI.
Junior IHvition.
Perform Extrjise No. VII., Vol. III. p. 31&
Senior DiHrion.
Prejwre a form like the one given, and arrasce
the irresrular verbs in Exercise JT/l'., p. I«j6, mi
their inflexions under their proper heads.
VERBS.
Irrkoular Verbs.
C1.A88 I.
In which Present, Past,''and
Perfect Participle are alike.
Class II.
In which Past and Perfect
Participle are alike.
Class III.
In which Present, Past, and
Perfect Partldple ure difftrtaL
Present.
Past and Perfect
Participle.
PreaenL
Paat.
Perfrd
Partiaide.
1
\
THS TOUHO 8TUDB2IT AHD WBITBB*B AaUBTAMT.
279*
MODEL EXEBCI8E No. IV^
-Ilde Vol. III.
I».190.
NOUNS.— 1. GswDBK.
Masculiue.
Feminine.
Neuter.
GMTire
Daughter
liOndon
Author
Mistres^
House
Po«t
Spinster
Ink
Earl
Cow
Book
Father
Mother
Slate
Ball
Desk
Gander
Cupboard
Bam
Horse
Goose
Cock
- S. OenderiBit
le distinction of u
ouns answering
to 9ex in personi
1 or animals.
3. There are three methods adopted for the dis-
tinodon of gender. 1. Different words ; as, boy^
firl ; hontt mare, S. Different prefixes ; as, Man
serrant, maid servant ; he goat, the goat. 3. Dif-
ferent terminations ; as, count, countess ; mayor,
mayoress.
4. Georgiana, Sultana, Czarina, Landgranne.
5. In figurative languaoe we speak of the »un
as Ar / the moon, the earth, a ahip, the church, or
a eouHtry, as ghe; and of a little chUd^ or bmoU
animal, as it.
6. Friend, partner, bird, oat, sparrow, are nouns
whose gender may be either masculine or femi-
nine.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.—IV.
Question 38. Here we have 250,000 sovereigns,
and 500,000 half-sovereigns. Counted per day,
100x8x60:=48000.
950000+500000 ,_ , ..
- Gsl5 days, o hours. — An$.
48000
F.T.
Que$tion 29. Interest of £500,000, at ^ per
ctuU, for 1 year,.
.-. 15 years' =22500 xl5=£337,500;
22500x61
and for 61 days, — j^ — =£3,780 Ss. 5J,Vd.
,«. interest for 15 years, 61 days=:
jej:j7500+ £3,760 5s. 5^y^s£341,260 5s. 59^d.
W. CD.
02*5
QueUi<m 30. ^^s-036181bs.— Jns. JK. M.
Question fM. LetMsthe amount of £1 at the
end of 1,000 years. Then, according to Uie usual
formuhe, M = P K« =P (l + r)».
Here P.=l : r=-05 : n=1000.
.'. Msll-OS)*"**".
.*. tbe eomponnd interest=M— l=:(l-05)*o<>'>— 1.
J. B. M'C.
Question 32. Suppose Sssthe sum.
ThenS=A+Tix+TW¥+,&o. (1)
lluItiplT c*^ ■>?' of ^« equation by 12, and
we have 138a
eoaatii ., , ,_,
11 8s]; wherefore, Ss^. 8f£i.
eqaation (I) flrom eqnauon (2), and
Question 33. The general ex|ir«ssion of the
sum (S) of a geometrical progression, whose com>
a— a y*
mon ratio is r a proper fraction, is, S = , («>
representing the first term of the series, and (a)
the number of the terms. Now, when n is in
definitely large, r (being a proper fraction) wilL
become mdefinitely small ; and a r* may be con-
sidered as nothing with respect to a in the nume-
a-—a r*
rator of the fraction z — ^— ; and the expression
l-r
for the sum (S) will then beeome S:
the question a =200
^ 2U0 4000 ^,^^ ^
S=:^ — —=z^ — r:: =4000 feet.
Ij>
l.|{ 20-19
Question 34. 2 25* x -5236 = 5-96413125 feet=
the solidity of the globe, and
.-. 5-96413125 x-—=317-58W890828 lbs.— ^n*.
io
Spes.
Question 35. The number of lbs. in one im-
perial gallon being 10, nearly, the number of gal-
lons in 317-5899890625 lbs. will
.-. =31-758998906-i.% nearly.— ^fu.
SP£9.
Second Solution.
317-5899890625 lbs. =5081-439825 ounces, which
at the rate of 1,000 ounces per foot,
5081-439825
" 1^^ =5081439825 cubic feet ;
or=8780-7280176 cubic inches ;
but there are 277*274 inches in a gallon,
8780-7280170 ^gj.Qgg ^^^^ jj^^ qy^nUty dis-
277-274
placed.
J. S.
Question 36. Diameter of shot=*5 feet ; content
= '5* X -5336= 06545 feet Now, according to the
law of floating bodies, if a heavy body be weighed
in water, the weight lost will be equal to the
weight of water having the same bulk as tbo
body ; hence, on the weisht of a cubic foot uf the
body weighed in water tnere will be the weight
of a cubic foot of water lost ; but tlie weight of a
cubic foot of the body in question is 7*218 times-
heavier than a cubic foot of water, or a cubic foot
of iron weighetl in water=724«-1000=6-248 oz.
.-. the weight required = -06545 x 6248=408 031)^
ounces.
Question^?. x*-xy= 84 (1)
y«+*y = 176 (2)
Substituting s y for x, we have z^ y^ — zy}^—?'^
.•.y=ri?^ (3)
«»-«
176
y«+*y« = 176 .-. y« = j— (4)
Substituting the values of y* in (3) and (4),
-^=i^.or44*»-05r=21
z*—z l+« 7 3
Solving this quadratic we fiud t= ~ror— ~ ; nn 1,
substituting— for s in equation (4), we Bud y-^'^k
* .-. y=±8
But x«« y= - - X ±8s ± 14.— Jim.
B.T.
260
MoncES or books»
QUBSTIONa FOR SOLUTION.— VI. |
47. A debt of £1000 is to be discharged in Ave
paymenti, viz., iT^UO in six moatiis, £2llXi ia eight
monthii, £150 in teu nionth«, £\''tO in eleven
monies, and tiie remainder iu twelve months;
tha creditor, however, would prefer to receive it
aC one payment. At what time will it bwcome
due?
48. What is the present worth and discount of
the above at 5 per cent per annum ?
49. What is the present worth of jCflO yearly
rent fur seven years, allowing ^ per cent, per
annum, compound interest, to the purchaser?
50. A can do a piece of work in 'M days, and,
with the help of B. in 20 days. In what time will
B do it by himself?
51. KeJuce -42871438714, Jcc^to a vulgar tne- .
tion.
52. Standing at some distance fh>m (he foot of
a hill, I took the, elevation of a tower upon it, ',
30" 45' : and, meamiring on towl (powd 5W
links towanls the hill, I agniu took the elevatum
of the top and bottom of the totrer, awl foond
them to be 30° W and 20° SXT. Aequirrd, the
height of (he tower.
53. A straight lina.meaiiured along the bank of
a river, was HOO links, and at its extremities toe
angles- contained by it and straight liurs dinctti
to a treo on an oppoyto bank were tK'" 35' ni
70« 18'. What is the breadth of the river?
5t. A horse is fastened upon a common with a
tether 50 yards loug. How much land will he t>t
altle to gra;£e upon ? And supposing that, aftrr
eating all the grass of tlii^ circle, the pin )>e rr-
moved t9 its ctrcumferenoe, how much groubi
will he be able to clear on removal?
55. Given x+j=2y
J + V+Z=:24
x*+y« + i*=2304, to find X y aad^
jlntirrs nf %nh.
Reli^ionand Education in RrJalinn to the People.
By John Alfred Laugfurd. London: John
Chapman.
All thoughtful and earnest men must of necessity
take deep interest in the movementa and struggles
of those who are striving to express the t(*ou);ht
that seems at the heart of every true Englishman
at the present day, whether in religion, education,
or social reform. It matters not to what party we
belong, our duly still remains the same— to watch
with patience the uuwearied exertions of the men
who are at present strtving to express the wants
of the people at laiige ; and, above all, to spare
them the silly spucubeH which it is usual fur
people of vapid un>lerstantlings to utter roncem-
ing them. That there sboulil he much misunder
standing oonceruing present movements was to
be expected ; that all who tiilk of tiie matter are
not willing to look its diliiculiies fairly in the
face mny also be conceived ; ami tltar charily
should be at the heart of every man, t lough very
desirable, is perhaps more than the most sanicuine
can hope. i)n the one hand, we hear the words
^' infidel, sceptic, un'>eliever,' &c. *. on the other,
" bigot, fanatic, and impo;; tor." I'hai mt-u should
stoop to such an un'litmitied course is to be re-
gretted ; yet, leaving ail theite tilings to die oi their
own inanity, we turn to the more pleasant task of
listening to thoic who are wilJing. without vilu-
peralicm, to say what they l»elieve-to give utter-
ance to their hopes in a calm, ilispassionatc mo ul,
not hoo Iwinkiug the truth even wlien it is un-
pleasant ; " for in proportion to the imnortance
of a di.Hcussion is the nfre>»>ity lor pliiiii Hi.d
honest speaking. If the welfare of n nation rests
on th- proper invesiigHtiou of a suiiject. and tlie
oons<;<{ucnt prActical results, silence is a moral
cowardice, ami tear a disicttice." So far we think
our author has Kiven his reasons lor appearing
before the public. That he has spuk-n what
many men think will readily be seen by tiiose who
iiiMy consider tne book worthy of a perusal The
os'ise (if religirui and fduc^i *n will, assuredly,
iJot tu/Tar (Qt its appearance . and we Uivuk ui«cv>i «
if not agreetnir with the author, will diank him fcr
having spoken out so plainly his owu tboutbto.
as well as having brought into soMB«il aeumipaai
the opinions of the dilftrent w riters on the wrtyco
here discussed.
Aa a specimen of the coittents of the httck, wt
beg to offer the following selections lor the cm-
sideration of our thoughtful readei s : —
" Believing firmly in the necessity of rrligi(».
and that man but half fiilfils the purpose oi his
existence unless, after mature constiJeratiiin of ike
evidence olfttred, and a lull consciousness of es
power to answer the great wants ol the soul, hr
couscieutiounly and avowedly accent some fiim
of faith, some ^olniioii of the gr^at probleia of
being, its responsibilities and demands ; it is «f
the most Tital importance that we ascertain the
nature of the faith which we accept."
" For myself, it is absolutely necessary thtt I
shoulil aiLswer the great and soleniu proi/lms of
life and death, uf time anil eternity
Thus 1 w«)ul 1 say that religion is a life, and cfll
a dogma — a being, and not a theory."
" What right hare I to say to a man whodilfaff
from me, I tolerate you? Full recognition oi tin
litrht so to diifer, and not toleraliou of idm undfer
that diflVrence, is the due of cverf man.**
" In a word.education is the preparing of manfcr
all the relations of life, and the fullilramt oi tO
ttie duties which he owes to society — the i»erfectiBC
of tlie whole by the previons pttrtectkm of Ae
individual. '
" Thus the condition of etlueation in BiiflaiMi—
though exciting great attention, ainl ca'Iinv Mtit
tlie closest couMideration and the most earnetf
advocacy oi' the most thouvhtftil of the coiam-
nity. and prcoenting more encouragine as^HN-t* Xf
its friends than at anjr pi«sriuu« perio>l in ev
history— is lar from betni; in a satu>faetory stair:
and the ignorauoe is deep, far-spread. and de>
ploralde— at once a disgraice to our weaJtk» eur
usual pra<;tical oharacter, and our i
aA % oivUized and chhatiaa peofiltt.''
Hlntnrir.
BY TTHK AUTHOR OP "tHE ABT OF BBASONHTO/'
■
No. XX.— FIGURATIVE EXPRESSION— conc/i«fc(/.
Figures op Imagination. Species II. — Substitutive.
It 18 Tcr7 difficalt, indeed, to demarcate clearly the several species and individuals
which compose the usual catalogue of rhetorical tropes and figures; and this becomes
especially difficult of attainment when but " thin partitions do the l)Ounds divide.** The
substitutive figures do not express the real and intended idea at once and categorically,
but are, in general, of an allusive character, and merely refer to it rather than give it
complete and adequate expression. It will be perceived from this description, for it can
hardly be called a definition, that metaphor and allegory might be, in a certain sensei
included in this species ; but as the idea of resemblance seemed to us to form their specific
character, and their substitutive power to be more of an accidental property, we have placed
them iu that specilBs which comprehends resemblant figures. In some of the members of
the species of which we are now about to treat the idea of resemblance finds place also;
but here the conditions are reversed, substitution being the specific property, and resem-
Uaoce being merely an accidental peculiarity. The rationale of the substitutive figures
may be found in many of the prmciples of the human mind. 1st. The mere allusion to a
thiog piques curiosity, and makes the mind more eager to follow out the thought 2nd.
Giving a clue to, or a hint of, a thought, and allowing the readers or hearers to show their
acumen and discernment in discovering the whole meaning, flatters their vanity, and makes
them invest the thought with greater importance than it would otherwise perhaps merit,
or at least than it would, in all likelihood, receive. 3rd. Sometimes the mind cannot bear
to talk coolly of things which affect it much, and hence it often substitutes a part of the
thought only as allusive to the whole. 4 th. Elliptical brevity occasionally commands us
<Hi] J to give such hints as shall suggest a given train of thought, but not exhaust it.
On these, amongst other grounds, we may maintain the perfect propriety and eligibility
of the substitutive figures of speech ; and brief characterization above given will, we hope,
be found to contain all that is necessary to the comprehension of the use of these figures,
except the subsequent definitions and examples of the individual members of this species,
Tia.: —
1. Metonymy substitutes the name of one object for that of another which is related to
ity either by some degree of mutual dependence, or is otherwise naturally or accidentally
eoimeoted with it, and capable of suggesting it ; thus it uses, first, the cause for the effect,
«iid vice versd; secondly, the abstract for the concrete; thirdly, the form for the matter;
fourthly, the instrument for the agent; fifthly, the contaber for the thing contained;
vixthly, the agn for the thing signified; and, seventhly, the adjunct, or accessory, for the
snlgeot, or essential; as, ist "Every rood of ground maintained its man." 3nd. He
z
282 RHETORIC. — NO. XX.
earned his bread by the nceat of his brow, 3rd. i7ope deferred maketh the heart sick.
4th. JVb com occupies my exchequer. 5th. He writes a beaatiful hand, 6tfa. Mj pune
18 at your service. 7th. :—
" Lo, at the coaob where inftmt beauf^ Rleept,
Her silent watch the moomful mother keeps."
The following extract from Bryant's beaatiful poem, " Thanatopsis " will afford additional
illastration: —
** So live, that when thy sammona cornea to join
The innumerable caravan that moves
To the pale rralmg o/ shades where each shall talce
Bis chamber in the »Umt halts of Deaths
Thon go not like the quarry-slave, at ni^t
Soourg'd to his dungeon ; but, sustained and soothed
By an unAiltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.'*
2. Synecdoche employs the whole for a part, and vice veretL There are, bowerer,
serenl sorts of wholes, and consequently several sorts of parts, viz. — Ut, a forma! wbol?,
i, e.f the deBiiition of a thing, or the indication of the genus and specific difference; Sad, a
physical whole, L e., the matter and form, or substance and essential properties, of objects;
Srd, an integral whole — that which consists of parts having a real existence in nature,
when considered separately; 4th, a logical whole, i, e., a genua induding sevenl species,
or a species comprising several individuals : thus, when we say, " Intemperance destroys
more than the eward,'' we employ a part of an integral whole, if we employ '* aword" as
the representative of all warlike weapons; and when Pope says,
" Belinda smiled, vaAaUthe world was gmy,"
he uses a term indicative of an integral whole to signify a part only. In '* The LonI
Chancellor has rebigned the seaJsy** we employ a synecdoche — a physical whole — ani
express by the formal iigns of office the matter, i, e., the real duties implied by their
possession.
* There leviathan—
Hugest of living creatnrea* on the deep.
Stretched like a promontory, sleeps or swims.
And seems a moving land ; and at his gills
Draws in, and at his tnmk spouts out— a sea^ MUion,
3. Antonomasia might almost be called a kind of synecdoche, for in it we employ la
individual name as a cognomen for a whole class, or some remarkable circnmstaocc coa-
nected with an individual for his name ; e. g,, Thomson, in speaking of Baccn, says —
*' In om* rioh aoul
Plato, the Stagyriu, and Tully joined,'*
where "Stagyrite** stands for Aristotle; and Byron, in the following line, zmf/iajt tlie
proper name, Arion^ instead of mttficim;*-
" MeanUBe some nide Aiion*s restless band
Wakes the brisk hannooy thai sailors love.**
4. Uetalepsis is * complicatioo of figures of difiennt kinds is ODi word «r set of «vri>-
RHSTOBIC.~llO. XX. 383
It expresses not the very idea itself, bat another, which either leads the mind forward
to it as a consequent, or causes the mind to re?ert to it as an antecedent; e. g.^ *' He has
forgotten me," intimates that he formerly hnew me; and "England is in arms at the
proposal," signifies that the people of England are dissatisfied with the proposal.
"He whose nod
Has tumbled feebler despots from their sway,
A moment pauseth ere he liils the rod;
A little moment deigneth to delay ;
Soon will his legions sweep through these his way;
The We$t must own the Scourger of the World."
5. Periphrasis, or circumlocution, is the expressing of an idea in more words than are
necessary : thus, instead of saying, a man was twice married, we may express it as Turner,
in his *' History of the Anglo-Saxons," has done, viz., " He was twice a candidate for that
endearing felicity which the connubial union never foils to reciprocate between amiable
hearts and well-instructed minds." Again : — ** Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove,
my tindefiled : for my head i$ filled with deWj and my locks with the drops of the night.*^ —
Song of Solomon, v. 2.
Species III. — AmpVficcUive.
The amplificatire figures of speech result from several conditions of the mental faculties,
tIx.: — 1st. Intellectual calculati(Hi. Important thoughts cannot receive due attention if
exprrased sententiously, and are passed through the mind as " rapid as the light." In order
to attract attention and fittingly impress the intellect, such ideas must be frequently
repeated, not in blightly-differing phraseology and with little change of manner, but in all
the beauty which imagination, thought, and emotion can conjointly yield, when they
" Their magical variety difluse."
By this union new forms of statement and illustration enter readily into the mind, and
thus that felicitous pleasantness is communicated to style which causes the ideas to be
raociTed with ardour and remembered with delight 2nd. Imaginative activity. When
rtroDgly prepossessed in favour of any particular range of thought, we cannot avoid looking
upon it with cinnplacency and pleasure; we love to look upon it in every varying phase, and
gratify ourselves by adorning our thoughts with every grace compatible with their nattire.
3fd. Emotional excitement Affection delights to linger on pleasant thoughts, and intense
anger or hate predisposes the mind to rankle the barb in the wound which it has made.
From any one oi these conditions, or all of them conjoined, amplification may result; and
jet we consider that we have given the amplificative figures their proper place in our
claBsification, inasmuch as the imagination furnishes the chief materials of which they are
composed.
1. Anaphora extends a sentence by the repetition of the same word or words at tho
be^^inning of each of several clauses ; e. g. : —
*' And lecl I, Death ! no joy from thought of thee !
Death the great counsellor, who man inspires
With every nobler thought and Turer deed !
Death the deliverer, who reseuea man !
Deth the rewarder, who the rescued crowns !
i>Ml* that abeolvei my birtli— a eoTM without it 1
284 RHETORia — ^KO. XX.
Bich Death Uiat realizes all my care^,
Toils, virtues, hopes — witliout it a chimera !
I)tath, of all pain the period." " young's Xtght Thoughtg,^ III.
2. Anadiplosis repeats at the commencement of a clause the word or phrase with wbld
the preceding clause terminated ; e. g. : —
" Hippomedon
• •••••
Braced all his nerves, and cverjr sinew strung,
Then with a tempest's whirl and wary eye
Pursued his cast, and hurVd thf orb on high ;
The orb on high^ tenacious of its course.
True to the mighty arm that gave it force,
Far overleaps all bound, and joys to see
Its ancient lord secure of victory."
Gray—" Translation from Statius."
<3. Analepsis contains a grammatical redundancy; it is a means of recalling to recoUec-
lion the construction of the prior portion of a sentence before proceeding to complete it:
c. g.^ Health, virtue, industry — tliese are the elements of happiness.
4. Apposition signifies the placing of an explaining or characterizing noun or phrue
after a noun or phrase, when the explaining noun or phrase retains the same grammatical
case OS that which precedes it, and is not joined to the antecedent notm bj a coDn6ctiD<:
word; e. ^., Music, poetry, painting, sculpture — tJie asthctic arts — ^are the results of the
conjoint operation of genius and industrj.
5. Epanalepsis is the name given to the repetition of the same word at the end of i
clause or sentence as that with which it begun ; e. g.^ Sin stains the soal ; forsake ye,
therefore, sin. Again: — Ancestri/ only ennobles the man who adds honour to his ancestry,
6. Epanaphora, or Symploce, is a figure in which several clauses or sentences have the
same beginning and ending; c. ^., Vice may, for a moment, yield us pleasure; but rict
will too surely ever afterwards destroy T^feo^ire.
7. Epiphora is when several clauses or sentences have the same word or phrase for tbdr
terminations; e. g.j We must all encounter death; we need not all fear deaiA ; some of ni
may be made happy by death ; but how many will be led into the depths of misery bj
death r
8. Climax is the gradual progression of the utterance of thought in intensity and foite.
One remark is made, another and another follow in succession, each more and more exactir
Approximating to the proper expression of the idea with which the mind is filled, and (a
which it can scarcely find adequate utterance.*
" But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess.
And roam along, the world's tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless ;
Itf iuious of splendour shrinking from distress !
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less
or all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought, or sued;
This is to be alone ; this, this is solitude." Byron.
* See a bcautiruL ejumpU ot dkcuo. Vaibft octilon of Maro Antouy, alrcadj
RHBTOBia — ^NO. zx. 285
Agaio, from the same author we select the following example : —
"Look on its broken arch, its niin'd wall,
Its chambers desolate, and portals foul :
J>f , this was once Ambition's airy hall.
The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul.
Behold, through each lack-lustre, eyeless hole.
The gay recess of Wisdom and of Wit
And Passion's host, that never brook'd control :
Can all saint, sage, or sophist ever writ,
People this lonely tower, this tenement re/it ? **
9. Anticlimax is the opposite or reverse of the preceding figure; it is diiefij employed
in depreciation, and descends from the less to the more minute or particular; e. ^., Pope's
characterization of Lord Bacon-—
** The greatest, wisest, meanest of mankind ; "
and Goldsmith's etching of Burke —
" Who, bom for the universe, rutrrotccd his mind^
And to parly gave up what weu meant for mankind.*'
The ** Letters of Junius" abound in instances of this figure.
10. Exergasia employs different phrases of the same meaning successively; 6. g.. Who is
to blame for this vile act? — ^against whom should the charge be brought? — whom should
we accuse of having committed it?
11. Euphemismus is a delicate way of saying what might otherwise offend, and is
employed to conceal the precise meaning when anything disagreeable requires to be spoken
of; e, g., a face bloated by intemperance is thus delicately hinted at by Akenside: —
*' I see Anacreon laugh and sing ;
His silver tresses breathe perfume ;
His cheeks display a second spring
Of roses taught by wine to bloom"
12. Pleonasm employs superfluous words, i e., words whose signification is implied in
what has been or is to be said, to indicate strong and intense feeling; but it ought only to
be used when the mind is desirous of placing excessive emphasis on the idea; e. g. :—
" False traitor, avaunt ! I have marshalled my dan."
13. Polysyndeton, by an emphatic redundancy of connecting particles, detains the atten-
tion, in order that it may more clearly perceive all that is included in the sentence, and
thus, as it were, calls upon the mind to *' pause and be enlightened ;*' e. g. :—
" Thou kingly spirit throned among the hills.
Thou dread ambassador flrom earth to heaven.
Great Hierarch ! tell thou the silent sky,
And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun.
Earth, with her ten thousand voi<»a, praises God." Coleridge.
14. Synonymy uses several different words in nearly the same meaning; e. g,: — "Fdl-
ftajjfl Away I you starveling, you eel-skin^ you dried neaCs tongue, you stockfishi Oh, for
a breath to utter what is like thee! Tou tailar*t yardf you shaaihf you how-eate!^
286 KHBToma— HO. xx.
Class III. — Fioubcs op Eitonoir.
"The emotional nature of man" has, on a previous occasion, receired a coDsidenbk
share of our attention. To oar remarks on that subject we refer oar readers now, as
wc intend to r^trict oar present observatbn on that class of "figures of speech** which
seem to us to be the especial exponents of the emoti<»s to a very few words. There is ''t
power and magic " in the emotional nature of man which powerfnllj excites the intellectlre
and imaginative faculties, and induces intense energy of action in the mind. The povcr
which they exert upon the will, too, is remarkably great, and hence a knowledge of the
method by which the due regulation and management of man*s emotional nature mar be
promoted is of the highest importance to every one, whether writer or reader. It is not
our province, as we have already remarked, in the present series of papers, to ventilati
that question, important as it is. We may, however, return to it again. We shall, as ire
have said, now confine our attention to the definition and exemplification of the *' Figuts
of Emotion."
1. Erotesis, or Interrogation, is a rhetorical form of expression in which, while rt
only appear to be asking a question, we are, in reality, making an assertion, which rece;^?«
additional weight from the fact that we ourselves firmly believe the categorical propositloc
implied in the interrogation. It inquires semblably, while truly it affirms strongly; e.^..—
*' Tyrants ! in vain ye trace the wizard ring ;
In vain ye limit mind's unwearied spring ;
What ! ran ye lull the winged tcind$ a$leep —
Jrr€st the rotting vorMt or ekain tht deep t
No ! the wild wave eontrams your sceptred hand ; —
It rolled not back when Canute gave command." Campbtll.
2. Ecphonesis, or Exclamation, employs an interjcctiooal abruptness of form, instoail d
a logical structure of sentence, to indicate that the contemplation of the ideas implied is
fitted to excite the emotional nature; e. g,: —
" Awake ye from the dream
That earth was made Tor kinga-HOsankimi: Ibr sianghter —
'Woman for lust— th« People for the Palace !
Dark waniing:i« have gone forth. * *
• • • The Present cries aloud —
A prophet to the Future— Wake ! Bewafe!" BuUcer.
3. Dissideration, properly speaking, includes all posnble forms of expraanng hope,
expectation, wish, desire, &c.; but is here q)eeially employed to denote the tne of whit ii
usually called th» iraperativo mood. It is clearly and iaadisputaUy an indicative wi
infinitive, constituting one sentence, which, under the impulse of emotion, we abridge ti
the utmost; e. ^., instead of saying, *' I earnestly request you to take your leave,** we ssr.
'^ Leave me!" and the manner of utterance performs the rest
4. Irony is more strictly an elocutional figure; at least, the whole Mt'mg of the senteoet
results from the intonation. The words themselves appear perfectly harmless until, b
intonation, we are led to ** set the arrow coning ont** of thsra; a. ^., Job w. S, ** Mo doobt
but ye are the people, and wisdom shall &tB with joat**
5, SMBMBiii th%xfleiikdiB\«BMbite,tlM fohal txpKMHM of wUdi ■ nlUMdbf
RIIETOXtlC. — SO. XX. J87
the refining rebtraints of modern society; — a sentence which implies a gibe, a taunt, a
mockerj, or a defiance, carefullj, goardedlj, and wililj expressed, so as not violently to
oatrAge " the proprieties." A specimen, too long for extract here, will be found in Byron's
" Ghilde Harold," Canto IV., xxxiii. — xli. We must be sparing in quotation, and there-
fore select the following sarcastic saying, which we have heard attributed to Archbishop
Whately, viz., while a friend and he were conversing regarding certain Irish orators, the
former remarked, "They have a great command of language.** "You mistake, sir,*
replie4 the archbishop; " language has a great command of them."
6. Mimesis is a sarcasm embodied in mimicry. See " Rejected Addresses," pcuttm ;
Mercutio's early conversations, in " Romeo and Juliet ;" and Hotspurs description of a fop,
in "Henry IV".," for illustrations.
7. Litotes, or Extenuation, comprises all those little elegancies of talk by which we
endeavour to lessen the apparent expressiveness of our ideas ; e. g.^ when, instead of say-
ing, " I accept your kind oflfer," we use the words, " I do not reject your kindness," we
employ this figure. Dekker's periphrasis for ** Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ" ie aa
excellent example of Litotes : —
^'Thftbestormen
That ere wore earth about him was a sufTerer ;
A Bofl, meek, palicnt, bumble, trauquil spirit,
The fii-st true genilemau that ever breathed."
8. Auxesis is intentional exaggeration, very nearly bordering upon, if not altogether
lying within, the province of faLiehood. It b a rather frequent and favourite figure in our
courts of law; and u pretty plenteonsly employed by strcmgly-biassed party politicians;
and not unrarely, we fear, even among violently religious sectaries. " The Three Black
Crows" is a satirical expose of the readiness with which this figure is employed, even in
private life. If any one of our readers is acquainted with any gossiping scandal-monger,
let him only listen to him (or her?) fur ten minutes, and he will find a greater number of
instances than we could find convenience for printing. In a few words, it may be
defined as Hyperbole without due moral restraint. ^Ve can only give the following
example, also from Dekker: —
" Trust not a woman when the cries,
For she'll pump water from her eyes
"With a wet finger — ay ! in faster showers
Than April when he rains down fluwers."
9. Tapinosis is the reverse of Auxesis, viz., an undue attempt at extenuation. Our
eelf-love very frequently leads us to make use of this figure when engaged in self-exami-
nation, or on being called to account for our faults. In Coleridge*s " Remorse" we find the
following example in the speech of Ordonio^ when endeavouring to calm his conscience
ivgarding the crime of fratricide : —
** What, if one reptile sting another reptile,
Where is the crime ? The goodly face of Nature
Bath one disfiguring stain the less upon it.
An we not all predestined Transiency
And oold Dishonour 7 Oranf it that this hand
Had given a morsel to the hungry worms
988 KHETOBIC — XO. XX.
SooMwhat too eni J. Who* im thm cnmt oilDmJ
That Ibis mast needs bffinit on the idiocy
Of moist«7ed Penifenee ? "
10. ProlepsB is the anticipation and axuweriog of objections before they hsTO been for-
maDj promulged bj those who hold opposing opinions. It is freqnentlj uefol as indieatlTe
of a wide and impartial intellect looking npon a question from all points of view; it is,
howerer, occariooaU/ employed deceptively, in order to gain an apparent triumph, by
taking into onr own hand the statement of an objection rather than leaving it in the hamU
of the other party: this permits the introdoction of Tapinosts, or the softening down of
these objectiona. In all debate this Bgore is much employed.
11. Synchoresjs, or Concession, is the apparent yielding np of an nnimportant p«nt
only to entrench oniselTes the more strongly in the opinion of onr hearers or readers, by
impressing them with an idea of onr strict impartiality. This also finds iUnstratioQ la
ordmary discnssioos and law pleadings.
12. Anacoenosis is a figure by which a speaker or writer places himself in direct oom-
mnnication with those whom he addresses, in order that he may appeal to them regarding
the tmth or accoracy of his opinions, or ask them the state of their feelings on the topic
of discourse. This recognition of the parties addressed as equals iirequently leads to the
admission of fallacies ; for they, flattered by the seeming condescension, are often too ready
to admit all that the speaker or writer says as true. See an excellent illostration of this
figure in ^ Henry IV.," act ▼. scene 2.
13. Aporia is the simulation of a doubt only that interest may be excited, and the
import of the few hints given heightened. It may occasionally be made exceedingly
useful, and may be honestly enough employed by an honest man.
14. Epanorthoeis expresses an idea in a weaker form, then hesitatingly seeks to amcod
the words employed, and substitutes stronger expressions than had been formerly used, or
ingeniously revokes a slightly unfavourable view in order to supply an opportunity for the
direct utterance of a more violently-passionate expression of thoaghL
Class IV. — ^Epithetic Figures.
To classify aright a great number of widely- divergent things is always* a dlfScult task,
and we do not hesitate to admit that, although at one period we presumed we had obtained
a glimpse of a preferable arrangement, we have been unable to satisfy ourselves regarding
its correctness, and hence have been compelled slightly to alter our intended classification
of the " Figures of Speech."
The general characteristic of the class of figures now under conuderation is, that they
employ single words peculiarly, as will be seen on a leisurely and thoughtful oonaideratioD
of the subjoined definitions and examples, viz.: —
1. Onomatopoeia is the manufacture of new words, which place the intended idea more
vividly before the mind in consequence of an analogy, real or imaginary, between the soond
and the sense; e. g,, Rat-a-tat, ding-dong, slap-dash, &c
2. Antiphrasis is the use of words in a sense opposed to their ordinary signification, as vrfaea
Wordsworth says, " Thou, Vengeance, art God's daughter," where he means "just retributioo.'*
3. Polyptolon introduces the same woM, in different numbers, genders, or cases, into the
same sentence; e. ff.:-^
18 THB BAPTISM OF INFAHTS Uf HABMOMT WITH TUX SCRIPTURES ?
S89
** Troop after troop are dUappearing ;
Troop after troop their banners rearing
Upon the eastern bank yoa see."
ScotL
4. Ploce nses a proper name, firstly as the name of an individual; and, secondly, as
indicatiTO of the qualities of that person; e. ^., ** Howard will always be remembered as
Howard."
5. Oxymoron is the saying of that which at a first look appears foolish — that which ts
wise while it seems foolish ; e. g., " That was cruel kindness." " Home is home.**
" Withal she laughed, and she blushed withal :
That blushing to her laughter gave more grace,
And laughter to her blushing." Spenser.
6. Ensilage is the use of one part of speech for another; e, g,: —
" They fall suceeuive, and suceetsive rise."
We have thus, hurriedly and imperfectly, considered in succession the various figures of
speech enumerated by rhetoricians. Had we been entirely guided by our own opinions, we
should certainly have been more likely to have treated the matter much more curtly, and
have given more attention to the rcUionalia of figurative expression, than to the lexi-
eograj^y of such a multitude of terms; we have, however, chosen to combine these two
methods of treatment in as equal proportions as possible, in order that our readers might
Hot only understand the reasons why figures of speech are used, but also that they may
be able, in reading the elder rhetoricians, to understand the phraseology of which they
make use.
Our next paper will treat of "Wit and Humour."
Etliginn.
Is THE BAPTISM OF INFANTS A PRACTICE IN HAKMONY WITH HE
SCRIPTURES ?
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
Iir entering upon th« discussion of any
tabject our object should be, not to triumph
orer ovir opponents, but the far more noble
one of aiding the cause of truth by refuting
ihtax arguments by a plain and simple style
of reasoning. Some Christians afiirm that
these aUght differences of opinion, as they
eall them, respecting baptism, &c., are of so
little importance, that the wiser course is to
''let peofde enjoy their own opinions, and
not 'Waste time in controversy." With this
we cannot agree. Whatever is not truth is
enror; and Christians ought to seek its over-
throw, and aid truth in her endeavours to
obtain tmireisal dominion. ^ Truth is our
element of life." Shall we not strive te
imbibe it unmixed with aught which may
weaken its power? **God offers to every
mind its choice between truth and repose.
Take which you please; you can never have
both." Shall we choose the latter; and,
accepting the first creed which is presented
to us, sit idly down well satisfied with our
attainments, and caring not to search for
ourselves whether that which we believe is
true or false? Such conduct is most ignoble
and ungodlike. Rather let us inquire as to
the truth of every doctrine which presents
itself for our acceptance, and when we are fully
satisfied, lend our assistanoe, feeble though il
n THs sAmm or mvAim ▲ TMAcncm
be, for the enlightenmeiit of our Mloffr^inaiL
This bong our opinian, and ai we an fuUj
satisfied in our own mind that iniuit bi^
tism is unscriptoral, we have taken np onr
pen to show oar ntaosa for rejecting it. To
do this we do nrt fed it needftil to bring
forward the optnioos of great and good men,
or to appeal to the writings of the Fathers
as authorities. These demand not oar
notice, the question before ns being, " Is the
baptism of infants a practice in accordance
with scripture? " Taking, therefore, the
Kew Testament for oor guide, we opra it,
and have onlj to torn over a page or two to
find the first notice of baptism, as practised
bj the forerunner of the Messiah : — ** John
did baptize in the wilderness, and preach
the baptism of repentanee for the rsmissioa
of sins. Then went out to him Jerusalem,
and all Judea, and all the region round
about Jordan, and were baptized of him in
Jordan." Now, say some, if all went,
children most be included. Do oor firiends
intend to assert that every inhabitant of
Jerusalem, Judea, and the country lying
around the river Jordan, went out and were
baptised of John? If this were the case, of
course children must be included. But
surely they will not make such an assertion;
and if not, this argument fails them. We
read that those who came were baptized,
" confessing their sins." We may ask here,
allowing that infants were present, what
sins had they to repent of, or what power to
confess them? We imagine this difficulty
was peroeivod by those who appointed spon-
sore to confess for infants! As we proceed
we come to a passage which is often quoted
by Pasdobaptists in support of their theory,
Matt. xiz. 13 — 1 5. To us it afibrds a proof
against tho suppositkm that chHdren were
brought to Christ for baptism; for, if it
had been his practice to baptise in&nte, why
did the disciples rebuke those that brought
them? " He pot his hands upon them, and
blessed them." This he could do without
baptising them, there&re we hare no proof
here that infanta were baptised.
'*The Pharisees had heard thai Jeaos
made and baptised man diaeiplet than John,
though Jeans himself baptised not, bat his
disciples." This passage implies that great
mnkitttdes came both to Jesoa and Jidm for
baptism, b«t aflonk no pnof thai any wan
infiHits. «« Josna nafc and baptized mon
digeipin than John, thoogh Jesus himself
bsptM not, but his disdples.* The dis<
eipleo, then, of Jesus baptized diseiplet only.
Can we make infants disciples? Surely not
Jesus, previous to his ascension, enjoined
his apostles to preach and baptise. Takia|r
this conunission as recorded by Matthew and
Mark, we shall perceive that none are by it
commanded to be baptized but disciples or
believen: it csnnot be supposed to inchid«
others. An infiiats capable of believinj:?
But, say some, you will not assert thir
because an iafiuat is incapable of believing
he will not be saved? If, then, in£uits caa
be saved without believing, may they not be
baptized? That the sacrifice of Jesus b
available for those who die in infancy ve
firmly believe, thoogh we profitsa noi to kaov
the means by which God receives them.
They are saved through the death of Christ,
but not by faith in the gospel; that oolr
benefits those who hear and believe it
Neither have the ordinances of the gospel to
do with any but those who are capable of
understanding and fulfilling them. This
commission, therefore, cannot apply to those
who are not able either to understaDd or to
believe. As none who have heard and no-
deretood the gospel oan be saved withoat
believing it, so none can be baptized with
gotpel baptism but such as believe the
gospel
As we proceed we come to the preachir:
of Peter. When many asked, being pricked
in their hearts, what they should do, Peter
said, " Bepent, and be biased for the re-
mission of sins." We find that three thoc-
sand were added unto the church, but w?
know that none of these were infiuits, f^r
the nanrative plainly says of those who were
baptised thai they *' gladly received the
word." Seme lay a stress upoa the woris,
*' For the proouse is unto yoa, and to yoar
children." But how few of those who refe
to this premise of the.HoIy Spirit w sappvt
ef their view are bold enough to affirm tint
children do actually noeive the Holy Spnt
upoD bi^tism? The majority know too wA
thai such an assertion woold be mootabsacd.
as there is abundant proof thai baptisB
makes not the ehiUbren sobmiCted to it a
whit more holy than others. Is the Batt-
ing of this premiss difficult to be uadentood?
da, IsBgnaga be plainer? Upoa joor re-
psntaace and baptism ye shaB icesire the
Ul HJLBXOVT WITH THE BCKIFTORn ?
291
Holj Ghost. This prmnbe if unto jou and
joor childreD, and to all that are afar off.
It ifl not, Upon yonr repentance your children
shall receive the Holj Ghoet. No; they
mnst lilcewise repent, and thonc who are
mfikr off; then shall the promise be fulfilled
ia them.
We now come to the preacbinfr of Philip,
and learn that he baptized both men and
women, Acta Tiii. (notice, children are not
mentiMied), and they " believed" firttt the
things which were preached " concerning the
kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus
Christ." The baptism of the eunuch was
performed on the same ground. From Paul s
account of his own baptism we learn that it
was si^fieant of a washing away of sin.
Nest we have Peter's visit to Cornelius.
There we learn that tlie Uolv Ghost fell on
«D those who heaard the word; and Peter
saked, *^Can any man forbid water, that
these should not be baptized, who have
received the Holy Ghost as well as we?"
Here, again, there is no mention of infants.
Those whom he wished to baptize were those
who had received the Holy Ghost. Wc now
nad of " households" to which our opponents
refer as unanswerable evidence on their side.
If tliey were able to prove to ns that the
households which are recorded as being bap-
tized contained infants, wo would at once
acknowledge ourselves convinced of the truth
of their view. We know not that Lydia was
a married woman. It is quite possible she
was not. Her household might consist of
senrauts ; or, allowing she had children,
might they not be of an age to understand
and believe the gospel? As it regards the
koaseholds of the gaoler and Stcphanns, we
hATe evidence that either there were no
iMfants belonging to tliem, or that they were
taken no account of by the historian ; for we
nad that, after "the gaoler and a// Ai>"
w«re baptised, he " rtjouxd, believing in God
wntk aO kis house ;** and of the household of
Stephanos, that "they addicted themselves
mto the ministry of Uie saints," I Cor. zvi.
15* It is evident, then, that if these were
baptised bonseholds, they were also believing
hooaehokls. In Kool vi. baptism is explained
aa a being baried into the death of Christ,
that those who by this symbol pot off the
daad body of nn might arise to newness of
life. 1 Cor. zii. 13 shows as that Christ
and bis nemben are one body, and that the
disciples of Christ are baptized int« that
body, having previously ** been all made to
drink into one spirit." In Kph. t. 26, we
read tliat Christ sanctifies and cleanses his
! church ** with the washing of water by the
' word." Now, the washing by water is bnt
the figure of that purification which the
word has already accomplislied. How, then,
can we include infants? That which they
have not heard cannot have sanctified them;
therefore, to make use of the symbol would
be out of place. Peter, in his first Epistle,
iii. 21, speaks of those who are baptized as
having a good conscience towards God. This
language cannot apply to infants.
Before we conclnde, we will briefly notice
an argument which is often brought forward
by Paedobaptists in support of their view,
viz., that baptism was instituted in the stead
of circumcision; and they plead that, as
children were circumcised, they ought also
to be baptized ; further, that by refusing
them this ordinance, we make the privileges
of the Jewish dispensation greatertban those
of the Christian. In combating this srgu-
mcnt, let us take a glance at the object of
circumcision. We road that God made a
covenant with Ahrabanu He promised him,
first, a numerous posterity; secondly, to be a
God to him, and to his seed after him;
tliirdly, he would give him the land of
Canaan for an inheritance. The rite of cir-
cumcision was the sign or seal of this cove-
nant It was a seal of both temporal and
spiritual benefits, not to each distinct indi-
vidual who submitted to it, but to the seed
of Abraham as a nation. Spiritually, it was
emblematical of a putting off the sins of
the flesh. In Col. ii. we learn, that when
the circumcision of the law was abolished,
there came in its stead "the circumcision
made witliout hands" — tlie circumcision of
the heart. The reality came in place of the
type. The object of circumcii>i<A was to
seal tlie covenant which God made with
Abraham; a sign that his posterity were set
apart as a peculiar nation — the chosen pei^Ie
of God — the type of the kingdom of Christ.
We hear it asserted, that as circumcisioii
was the sign of the Abrahamic covenant, so
baptism is the seal of the new covenant. We
cannot find a single text in the seriptnras
which bean such a meaning. The seal of
the new covenant is ** the Holy Spirit of
promise,'* **which is the eanwst of oor iii<-
292
IS THK BAPTIBX OF IMFASTTS A PEACTICa
heritance," Eph. i. 13 ; ir. 30. That baptism
did not come in the room d circamdBion is
evident from the fact that the former was
practised bj the Jews, on the reception of
oonTerts to their faith, proTions to the chris-
tian dispensation. John came, bearing wit-
ness of the coming of the Christ, and preach-
ing the baptism S repentance; he foond this
an established rite, adopted it, and, upon the
confession of sin, baptized his converts, or
disciples. Jesos appeared, gave his sanction
to it bj submitting unto it himself, and then
laid his command npon all who beliered in
him to follow his example. Circnmdsion
was a symbol of a reception into the Jewish
nation, which was obtained by birth; baptism,
oi a reception into the christian chnreh,
which is obtained bj faith. Circamcision
was enjoined to be attended to by the Jews,
npm tile penalty of those who neglected it
being cut off from their people. It marked
them as a nation set apart for a peculiar
pnipoee. Children who were Jews by birth
were, therefore, circumcised. But Chris-
tianity is not a matter of natural birth, but
of belief, or spiritual birth ; the command, in
consequence, extends not to infants; it applies
only to those who have experienced the second
birth, the regeneration of the spirit. One
was a rite enjoined upon a nation as such;
the other upon indiTiduals, who separately,
by their own free will, take upon them the
name of Christ, and become members of his
kingdom. Now, by refusing baptism to in-
fants, how do we make the privileges of the
christian chnrdi less than those of the
Jewish? As we have previously remariced,
the rite of drcmndsion, after Abraham, had
no particular personal application. It ptnnted
out the JewiiJi nation as the chosen people
of God, from whom should arise the Saviour,
in whom all the nations of the earth abould
be blessed. It did not make the Jewisk
children heirs either of Canaan or heaven; it
was merely the seal Qod had set upon hit
covenant — the part they were to fulfil. The
female childrai profited by this covenant
equally with the male, and yet they were not
circumcised. Paul speaks of it aa the jfolr
of bondage^ from which Christ set them free,
uid says that nather circumcision nor us-
cironmclsion availeth anything, bnt odIj
faiik, which worketh by love. Will not tids
as truly apply to baptism? Prove to as
what benefit it confers npon the children
and we will yield. Those who snbmit to
this rite do it not from expectation of its
bestowing upon them any advantage, but ts
a token that they lay aude their sins, and,
by obeying this command of Christ, shew
that they are no longer of the world, but ai«
new creatures in him.
Space forbids our saying more. In ooi
opinion, the words of scripture are snflkieD:,
without note or comment, to prove to as
unbiassed mind that the baptism of infiut^
is a practice not in accordance with scriptui«.
ASIHETTB.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
Thkrb is scarcely any question which
has caused so much unseemly strife in the
church of God as baptism. Not only has it
rent the unity of the Chnreh Universal, but
it has even raised intestine feuds in its various
sections. Borne herself is not unanimous;
the English chnreh is imperilled to the ut-
most, and its ecclesiastical head at this
moment stands virtually excommimicated by
a sufi&agan bishop, on the question of bap-
tismal regeneration; the Fasdobaptist Dis-
senters are divided in practice and opinion,
some administering the ordinance to all
infants, while othen restrict it to the chil-
dren of believera; and the Baptist community
Hself is divided (into "Particular" and
"General") on a subsidiary point. In en-
tering, therefore, on one part of this fierce
contest, we feel bound to ezpnss oar sincm
admiration of the tone of christian charrtj
pervading the articles which have already
appeared. It is, perhaps, more difficult tc
avoid all acrimony of speech and temper ii
religious controversy than in any other pc9-
vince of debate, politics alone excepted; rtr.
there certainly can be no place so nnsuitabk
for the exhibition of such feelings, and vr
hail their absence on this oocsaion, not odf
as a present good, but also ss a hopef«^
pledge that the future result of oar friewLly
conference will issue in permanent advac-
tage to the cause of religious tmtb.
Before proceeding further, it wiO be wtL^
to define our porition and the scope of <wr
inquiry, in order to guard against any rnts-
apprehensioos. The qoestion at the head ci
in HARMONT WITH THE BGBIFTURES ?
293
these pages, as argned bj mj predecessors,
contains an assumption which is denied bj
one sect of professiBg Christians, viz., that
baptism per se is "in harmony with the
scriptores." To notice this point is not less
an act of poUcff than of justice to oar Qoa-
ker brethran ; thej have the rightful posses-
sion of the field, and we can onlj plc«d the
^vant of space, and throw ourselves on their
indulgence. We shall, therefore, treat the
qaestion solely as between Uie Pssdobaptist
and the Anti-Pssdobaptist; and in so doing
we shall, as far as possible, avoid touching
on any of the other phases of the baptismal
controversy, though we shall not refrain
from indicating our own views on snch
points where they are available in support
of our argument.
I. The origin of baptism, and the preva-
lency and " essential idea" or intention of
Jewish proselyte-baptism, as "figuring to
the candidate hb past impurity, his present
s>eparation and death to idolatry, his prepa-
ration for, and adoption of" the true reli-
gion, are clearly and succinctly stated by
" L'Ouvrier" (p. 249, col. 1). But while
v^e adopt, with sincere pleasure, his remarks
a^ far as they extend, we must add a most
important fact. The Targums, and other
writings of the Jewish rabbis, expressly
Htate that when a proselyte tktte entered the
Jewish church by baptism and circumcision^
his tafant ch^ren^ if maleSf were baptized
«>id eircurndsedf and i/femaksy were bap-
tized. The declarations of Maimonides,
Miahna, and other writers to this effect are
so direct and unequivocal, that we deeply
re^et that ^*L*Ottorier^ should have over-
looked them, and thus laid himself open to
a charge of suppressio veri, in a case where
the suppressed truth tells so directly against
his own cause. We would fain believe that
the omission was merely the result of inad-
vertence, and hope that in a future stage of
the debate our friend will clear himself from
the doubL
The idea that the appearance of Christ
would be signalized by a general baptising
or symbolic purifying of their nation, seems
to have been widely spread amcmg the Jews
St the time of our Saviour's birth. Hence,
'^ben John the Baptist commenced his mis-
sion, the Jews sent "priests and Levites
from Jerusalem" to inquire, " Who art thou ?"
^uid when John confeased that he was neither
the Messiah, nor any of those whom the
Jews supposed to be the precursors of the
Messiah, they immediately questioned him
further, "Why baptizest thou, then?" In
reply to this question, John declared the
approach of Christ, and preached repentance
and baptism. Now, whom would the Jews
expect to be the subjects of this baptism?
With the example of circumcision, and the
custom of baptizing the Gentile proselyte
and his children, they would naturally sup-
pose that no individual would be excluded^-
tbat the rite would be administered, without
any exception, to all. The idea that their
children were to be excluded from this gene-
ral purification could scarcely have suggested
itself to a Jewish mind; those who were
ever exclaiming, " We be Abraham's seed,"
and trusting in the blessings promised to
him without any regard (in most cases) to
personal holiness, would have shrunk with hor-
ror at the thought of cutting off the precious
entail by refusing the ceremoninl rite to their
infants. This peculiar feature of Jewish
character appears in every page of the Tes-
tament. Jesus himself was carried up to
the temple when an unconscious infant; and
in later life, under the idea that he was a
prophet, little children were brought to re-
ceive his blessing. On these considerations,
then, we cannot doubt that the Jews who
flocked to the banks of Jordan would bring
their children to be baptized (purified) with
themselves, and that had John refused to
baptize these little ones, we should have had
evidence of the fact by the discussion it
would have caused. Now let us test our
supposition by the scriptures: " There went
out to him Jerusalem, and cdl Judea, and all
the region round about Jordan, and were
baptized." " There went out to him all the
land of Judea, and they of Jerusalem, and
toere all baptizedJ* The literal language
here exceeds possibility, and no man can
believe that " all" is to be taken without any
qualification, since the sick and the maimed
could not have " gone forth;*' and therefore
the only way in which we can clear the
evangelists from the charge of misrepresen-
tation is, by supposing that no class of per-
sons was excepted. If we deny that any
children " went forth," we reduce the num-
bers one half, and thus convict the evangelic
records of gross exaggeration; — if we admit
that childnn went forth with their parents,
9M
18 TUE bapthm c9 unPAPiB A nuciicx
tiie qoeitMQ of infuit baptiim ii lottled, for
tlioae who went to John ** were all haptiaed."
^VOmmer" aiserti that John reqaired
"• proofii of the aineeritf of their repentance"
before be baptised anj one! Waa " all Jn-
4ea* then repentant? The narrative, it is
tme, tdls na Uiey ** were baptized, oonfoesing
their sins;" bnt this phrase evidentlj mnst
be exphuned as referring to their TolontariJy
sabmitting to a rite symbolising their past
importtj, for avricnlar oonfoadon was im-
poBsible among sneh mnltitndes, while a
genenl onl confession would have been a
mere Babel of soonds. " Bepentanoe" was
the exhortation •< , not the comditiim of, bap-
tism. That John ooald have means of testing
the siooeritj of these mnltitudes was Impos-
siblei — that the majority of them never did
repent in heart is certain. The baptism of
John was indiscriminate; those who came to
him ^were aU baptized/ though some of
them were branded as hypocrites at the
same time, Matt. iiL 7.
We have dwelt thus extensively on the
baptism of John, because we cannet regard
it as in any way differing from the christian
ordinaooe. Our Saviour was baptized by
John, that he might ** fulfil all righteous-
ness;" and connecting this passage with the
kindred declaration that " except a man be
bom of (ooler and of the Spirit, he cannot
nlcr the kingdom of God/' we are not a
little astonished to find " VOuctier* infer-
ring, ** many of Uie immediate followen of
oar Saviour were not baptized.** Our Lord
speaks of the Pharisees and lawyen who
** rejected the counsel of God against them-
selves, not being baptized of Jolm^ finom
which passage we may snrely conclude that
his apostles, who were cAomm by him, had
undergone that symbolic rite. If John's
baptism was not christian baptism, iriiat
was it? It certainly was no part of the
Mosaic economy, and seems to be a perfectly
Vomalous rite, except we identify it with
the christian dispensation. My opponents
wonld, perhaps, urge the comparison which
John draws between baptism by water and
baptism by fire, but this comparison is morely
between the sign and the thing signified;
the diflbrence remained after Christ's aseen-
lion, and it was probably to impress this
diffbrence en the minds of his followers, that
he (barring his earthly miniotry) deputed
the aet of Uptiaing with water to his d»*
cipka, aad " baptiaed net hiinelf.'* There
is only one plsnitihle argmnent against the
identification of John's baptiam with the
christian rite; I allade to the caae of the
twelve Jews who are geMially supposed to
have been re-baptized by Pmil (Acta xii.
1 — 7). Mow,theelasatcalstadeQtwbotsms
to verses 4 and 5, will find the principsi
verba to be in the aorist or narrBlipe tenni*
the peooKarity of which consists hi the ab-
sence of any idea of duration, — the monen-
tary and wmpkUd chaeacter thcj tmpns
on an action; hence they pecnliailj oentratt
with the use of the imperfecta (4k<;^.
iXoXovv, &c.) in the next vene, aa deaeri^
tio€ teaaes, showing the duration or tisK
occupied by the baptism by fire. I belicfB
it wUl be strictly in accordance with philo>
logical principles to oonsider the 5th verar
as a continuation of PaaTs speech, ahowiag
to these Jews that since John preached
Christ, they who had been baptised hy hia
were, m efftct, baptised "^ in the naaM d
the Lord Jesus.** There are other critical
reasons (notice the opposition of fily and <c>
for adopting this view of the poaaage; sod
some distinct modes of sxplanatioa m^
be soggested, ev«n if we yielded these gram-
matical considerations. The anbataBse ot
our preceding argument we conceive, there-
fore, to be one dMmet and satiafoctary praof
of Infont Baptiam, which we may exhibh
thoa: — 1. The baptism of John was not s
believer's baptism, since we have pmf tbst
he *' baptised all" who came to him; while
the phraseology of the narrative, and tk
character and easterns of the Jews, show
that ittfonts were brought to him. 2. Ibr
baptism of John is identical with tin chm-
tian ordinance.
II. Space will not allow na to cxaniiof
the bi4>tisms recorded in John iiL 5; iv. i.
and it is scarcely needful, for wa can haidij
suppose that any one would be nah ema^
to assert that none but true conmts wm
thus " initiated" into the kingdooi of he^
ven; since the apostles theassdvaa aeem v^
have had no clear eonceplioa of Christ's cha-
racter, at that early staga of hie career.
The positive institntion i baptiam b coa>
tained in Matt. xxviiL 19, 9a ^'X'Onvrwr'
identifies thia, rather baatily, with Maik
xvi. 15, U; thoogh the latter wai
as they ** sat at meat," while the
emphatically the "Gnat OsmmssiBn- deli-
nr RAiufOsnr wne thk jk»iptusbs ?
M5
Tered on • nouDtain in Galilee, from wImbm '
onr Lord ascendecL Fmn the pasiage in
Uark IPS on gmliher oo condiutoo ; it cen-
t«ns 00 covnand to baptize; And in deelar-
nxig the mjraberj of salvation bj fiuth, and
the condemiiaUoa of tibe onbeliever, mevely
aUndes to the faet ef baptsam as neeeaearUj
Moonpanjing belief. We tnra, therefore, to
consider the eaiunand, " Go je (therefore)
and disciple (pt^iyrcv^are) ott mOioiu,
biptizing them in the name of the Father,
aod of Sie Son, and of the Holj Ghoat;
teaching tbem to obeerre all things ivhatso-
erer I hare eommanded yon." I may hmre,
•gain, calt the attention of the reader to
tbe tenses of these verbs, the definite cha^
nctor and waiU <>f dtura/Am impUcd by the
sorist in " disci pUng,*' indi^iting that there
was to be no delagm admitting " all nations"
to discipleahip by the ordinanoe of haptism.
Now, who are to be baptised? Is there any
bint that the apostles were to wait until
tbe efieot of their teaching was known ? la
not the elanse "■ baptizing them** evidently
sn explanatory one, showing how " all na-
tions" were to be " discipled" ? The Baptist
wonld read this passage — " Go ye, ther^ore,
snd disdple «// «iatum», teaching them to
observe all things whatsoever I have com-
manded yon, and afterwards baptize those
few who ahall give yon satisfactory evidence
of conversion . . . ." What eacnse can
any one have for thns transposing and qna*
lifting the words of oar Lord? Does it not
savour of dangerons audacity ? Bnt passing
(&r a moment) from the natural and primd
Jfaae mterpretation of this only rule of
oar faith and pructace, let us inquire what
glides the apostles had in interpreting theee
words. Had they any examples of the ex-
(^osive system of the modem Baptists?
They had had a Judas in their band, ad-
mitted to ba an apostle by Christ himself,
who knecr that he was " a devil" in heart;
they knew the custom of their countrymen
in the case of prasely to- baptism; they had
witnessed the indiaeriminate baptism of
J<^n; tbey had even administered baptism
to " mons disciples than John," under the
Boperintendenee of their Msater^lo t&oi»-
aonA wAo, afier thus profiumg diidfle-'
*Vp to Jesitf, had mtbt^pteaify ^ons ** bada,
ond tooOMf no «ore vUh him,"* Jna vi 66.
With these preoedento before them, with so
>&fU)y Jewish prejodioes still cUnging to
their minds, and remembering the rebuke
they had received with reference io the chiU
dnn who were hronght to receive the bless-
ing of Christ, they could scareely have con-
ceived of a dogma which should narrow ^ all
nations" to "trwe bdievers,*' and exdude
from the initaatory rite of their faith those
little ones whose " angels do always behold
the face of my Father which is in heaven."
We have pointed out the universality of
onr Saviour's command; if there be any re--
strictions, let them be stated. We know of
none ; and we believe that it was never within
the power of man to impose any houmda to
ikaZ wiwA God left vmkmiied. When we
recollect the fearfnl anathema pronounced
by St John on those who t€unper with the
words of scripture, we feel astonished and
cottoerned to find that onr Baptist brethren
are responsible for naamwing down the last
uwrds of Christ to a mere shadow of their
literal meaning. And what is tbe cherished
doctrine they proclaim? b net ^ believer-
baptism" a mere phantom of the brain?
Was Judas Iscariot a believer? Were Ana-
nias and Sapphire, who were baptized with
*' a lie in their right band," believers? Was
Simon Magus, who offered money for the gift
of the Holy Ghost, a believer? Peter seems
to have been gifted with the power of per-
ceiving the hidden falkhood d the heart in
the formtr case; and in the latter, Philip
mnat have been aware of the benighted con-
dition of him whom he baptized. Were the
Baptisto gifted with apostolic inspiration,
would they baptize those whom tbey per-
ceive to be '' in the bond of iniquity ? " If they
wonld not, they set at nonght the example
of the apostlte; — if they wonld, then: bap-
tism iaone of ifobelievers as well as believers.
There are two species of beliefy — the assent
of the head, and the assent of the heart.
The former necessarily preceded (in the case
of adulto) baptism; since no man could be
foolish enough to submit to a rito of religioa
if be totally disbelieved the honesty and
veracity of the administrator. Men*s acts are
the result of motive, and can never be known
folly to any bnt themselves; hence, unless
those who administer baptism are gifted with
snpematural powers, the ** baptism of be-
lievers" (as nndcittood by the Anti-Pssdo-
baptisto) is an impossible fiction; in other
words, Christ (acooiding to snch theolo-
gians) has directed his serranto to do that
296
IS THE BAPTISM OF nCFA1«T8 A PRACTICK
We now proceed to examine the pnetitt tf
the apostles, as recorded in the " Acta."
III. On the daj of Pentecost, when the
miracaloas gift of tongues was ** noind
-which they cannot do. If, then, believer-
baptism is impossible — on what grounds can
we exclude '* innocent** infants from a rite
to which we admit a Simon Magns? To
urge the incapacity of a child to understand ' abroad, the mvHitude came together," aad
the ordinance, is to condemn, by implication, I "were confounded** by the mirade; Urn
the decree of Jehovah in the analogous case : state of excitement was naturally heigfatciwd,
of circumcision. This reasoning, also, would i and clianged into extreme terror, when so-
lead to the most fearful conclusions ; for in- ' cused by Peter of the murder of their pn-
fttance — "He that believeth not, shall be
damned;'* children are incapable of belief,
therefore but we need not continue : we
have surely shown the fatal results of such
logic. Before we leave this topic, however,
let us point out the absurdity of another
species of argument adopted by our friends,
viz., that Infant Baptbm is wrong, because
we have " no mention of infants being bap-
tized." Now, we will pass over the plain
inferences which wo have already seen may
be drawn from the accounts of John's bap-
tism, and that of the disciples during our
Saviour's life, and will apply this reasoning
to other points. Here, then, is a list of con-
clusions as valid as that against Infant Bap-
tism: — I. No woman was ever baptized imtil
Philip went to Samaria. 2. No woman ever
partook of the Lords Supper during the
apostolic age; and, therefore, none ought to
bo allowed to do so. 3. The Lord's Supper
was never administered, except by the apos-
tles; and, therefore, the ordinance ceased
with their death. 4. No one ever was bap-
tized " in the name of the Father, and of
the Son, and of the Holy Ghost," for it *' is
nowhere mentioned, and there is no proof,
direct oi* indirect," while we are expressly
told in several instances that converts were
baptized " in the name of the Lord Jesus."
ry. No one but Peter, Paul, Ananias, and
Philip ever administered baptism, for it is
" nowhere" said so. We might continue the
list of these conclusions for whole pages;
but we will be content to ask " VOuorler'' to
lay aside his negative argumentj until he has
cither disproved or adopted the fourth con-
clusion given above.
We have now endeavoured to establish a
second independent proof of the harmony of
Infant Baptism " with the scriptures," drawn
from the consideration of our Saviour*8 words
in Matt, xxviii., and have shown the impos-
sible and fictional cbaradet o( onx o^^ooeoXx? \ t«cEASfi
<ioctrinej and the daiigero\i& kelA ik\»\«^ t%.>yJ««»K
•ixltB of their two cbitC mo^ea <:^ ortTimw^^v ^wa
mised Messiah;
they exclaimed,
shall we do?"
and in the agony of fev
" Men and brethren, wbat
Peter answered, ** Repot,
and be baptized, every one of you. . . .
Then they that gladly received the worl
were baptized." Now, here were 3,000 p»-
pie gathered together, to see ** a great ngfat;*
a sermon was preached to them nnder th
most exciting circumstances, and they wm
all baptized the same day. We have si
intimation that any^one was refused, wh3i
^ everff one** was commanded to be baptiaai
Were there no fond parents who had brnij^
their babes? no young children idio hal
come to see this miracnlons event? TImr
was no possibity of selection or examinstia
of these converts " of the instant," vb
could scarcely have obtained a oonoepCifl
of Christianity, and yet they were b^
tized. Would "the late Dr. Carson" hsn
consented to baptize a terrified sinner witUs
an hour of his first conviction? Tk
idea of comparing this with the delays, at
" probations," and " deacons' visits," fct, i
the Baptist community, is enough to rente
one despairing of man's openness to ooori^
tion. What " Baptist minister" would stal
beside his baptistry, and after notidng tk
efiect of a powerful sermon, invite **ewiy
one of *' them that heard him to be baptitfi
"the same day?" How simple and esif
would it have been for Peter to have aid,
''Repent, every one of yon; and those wki
give evidence of their repentance, mnst tha
be baptized for the remission of sins;* W
that was not his meaning. Let ns nodcii
too, the words **Jbr the remissioo of sin.'
The preposition here used is etc, the litari
signification of which is " into," implyisi
moti(m towards; so that this very pbra^
which at first sight seems to oppose mt
views, really strengthens them, by showisf
that baptism is only a step towards tkst
t^cEASftioa of sins which aeoontpamieit asvaf
^^ TEvV^ ^^ra^Q^ tsaaslats
nr HARMONY WITH THE SCRIFT1TRBS ?
297
fiios.*' We cannot, thereforei find the slight-
est intimation in favonr of believer-baptism,
bnt we think the right of infants is plainly
Btated. Peter gives, as a reason for baptism,
tJiat " the promise is nnto you and to your
chUdrenJ" By what process can these words
be explained away? If the promise to him
vfas a reason for the adnlt's baptism, the
promise to his children was an equal ground
for the baptism of his infants. We cannot
conceive the meaning or intention of these
words in any other sense; and to the Jews,
whom Peter addressed on another occasion
as "the children of the prophets, and of the
covenant which God made with our JiUhers"
the allusion would come with tenfold force.
The next instance is that of the Samari-
tans whom Philip baptized, Acts vlii. 12 —
24, " When they (the Samaritans) believed
Philip preaching the things concerning the
kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus
Christ, they were baptized. . . ." Here,
then, we have evidence of the nature of the
belief which preceded baptism, — ^"they be-
lieved Philip preaching"! Is there any
regular attendant at a place of worship who
does less than these Samaritans? We think
n t; and yet we shall find that a Baptist
church is bnt a small fraction of a Baptist
congregation. ^ Simon himself believed,"
yet bis ignorance of Christianity was most
deplorable, and the wickedness of his heart
so unchanged, tliat Peter rebuked him in
the most awful language. According to the
theology toe oppose, Peter should have re-
buked Philip for his laxity of discipline, and
the historian of the Acts should have ex-
plained that '* Simon himself did not believe,*'
but was baptized by mistake! In the same
chapter we find the account of the baptism
of the Ethiopian eunuch, ver. 26 — 39. This
eunuch, after hearing Philip expound a pro-
phecy of the Old Testament, desired to be
baptized, and his request was granted. That
Jie probably became a sincere convert we do
not doubt, but to adduce this passage, even as
is standiy as an argument for believer-bap-
tism, is mere quibbling. If the eunuch
liecame a true believer in so short an interval,
it was by a miraculons interposition of the
Holy Spirit, and the inferences to be drawn
from it cannot be applied to an era when
those manifestations are withdrawn. It is
eufficient for us that he was baptized cu soon
Ks the meant of baptism (watei^) were pre-
sented. We have, however, here to complain
of another inadvertence on the part of
" VOumner^ which we deplore, as casting a
shadow of unfairness upon him, which we
hope is not merited. The 37th verse of this
chapter is the only passage of the New Tes-
tament which can cause serious difiiculty to
the Psedobaptist ; and since it cannot be
supposed that every one who reads these
debates is familiar with the original Greek,
it becomes an act of injustice for an opponent
to parade this passage without any warning
as to its character. I have before me the
edition of the Greek Testament by Scholtz,
in which the verse in question is wanting;
and from the marginal readings I find that
it is condemned as spurious by Newcom^
Matthise, Griesbach, Wetstein, and Mill;
though it is adopted by Beza, Stephens, and
the Elzevir editions, on which our translation
is based. The verse is not to be found in
the Alexandrine and Vatican codexes, nor in
the Syriac and principal oriental versions;
and of MSS. in the uncial (or most antique)
form of letter, it is only to be found in one
and that of a suspicious character. We may
safely say, that there is not one passage in
the range of ancient literature with such
damning evidence against its authenticity
Its weight in the baptismal controversy is
(to the critical reader) perfectly inappred*
able.
The remaining cases of apostolic baptism
must be examined in few words. Cornelius,
"a devout man," sincerely worshipped God
to the extent of his knowledge, and was
miraculously dirocted to send for Peter.
Had not that apostle been prepared by a
vision, in which he was taught that he
'* should not call any man common or un-
clean," he would doubtless (through Jewish
prejudice) have refused even to preach '*to
men uncircumcised." Now hear his own
words: — ^^ As I began to speak^ the Holy
Ghost fell on them ; " so that unless he had
baptized before they even knew the name of
our Saviour, he could not have administered
the rite before conversion. This case is an-
other of those peculiar and miraculous events
from which we can draw neither precedent
nor inference. The two questions, " Can
any roan forbid water?" " What was I, that
I could withstand God?" seem to indicate
that Peter's prejudices would still have
denied baptism, had not Cornelius been thus
2 a
298
IS TBS BAPTZ8K OF CrFANTS ▲ FRACTICB
Tifiiblj ^ bftptizad with the H0I7 Ghost,** but
that this eTent was considered as an eridenee
that the outward rite shonld hare been pre-
vious^ administered. When ire have mch
strong evidence of the Judaking tendency of
ihf6 (qfOitktf we cannot reaaonablg support
that an exclusion of infants (wAo irere m
privileged in the Jewish church) from all
participation m Christian ordinances would
be tacitly ailotoed, without any vestige of
opposition. In the case of Ljdia, who was
baptized with her household, we have not
the slightest evidence that anj of the mem-
bers of her fiunilj were convertfd persons ;
she "attended to the things which were
spoken of Paul;" uid then both she and her
Jumsehold were baptized. When she nrged
the apostle to abide in her honse, we should
■carcelj expect to find her pleading, ** If je
have judged me to be faitbfal," if the members
of her household were all adult converts.
At " midnight*' the Philippian jailor was a
heathen ; and, probablj, hail never heard of
any gods but those of Greece, and yet, before
"it was day" he and his household were
baptued. Can it be supposed, that amid
the supernatural terrors of that night, suffi-
cient to have driven reason from her throne,
these individuals could be taught the great
plan of divine wisdom, and obtain faith unto
salvation? Rescued from suicide, this man
took Paul and Silas " the same hour of the
the night, and wa^hed their stripes; and
was baptized, he and all his, straightway"
That this man and his house were thus
instantaneously brought into . a state of sal-
vation transcends human poestbility. He
" believed ;" but could any man have doubted
the troth of Paul's word, when sealed by
earthquake and by angelic presences? He
''rejoiced;'' and could any one ** snatched
fimm the very jaws of death," and promised
eternal happiness, do otherwise than rejoice?
To conclude these notices of apostolic
baptism. We have not one instance of a
refusal to any applicant. We have a com-
mand, addressed to ** every one" of a mixed
multitude ; and we have proofs of notoriously
wicked persons being baptized. The prac-
tice of the apostles agrees in every respect
with the universality of the divine command.
We challenge our Baptist brethren to pro>
dnce one refusal, or even one delay of bap-
tism,— to instance one single case where the
head of a household was beqitized, and**th^
of his household* left unbaptked. Oar op-
ponents refer to 1 Cor. xvL 15, as a proof
that the household of StcpfaanoB oompriaed
no infants. Suppose we grant the inferenc^r
it only affects that particular case; and ii,
of four households it be proved that one
contains no children, the probability that
one or more of the other three do oMitain
children is thereb/ increased f since (from
the very nature of things) a ehildless house-
hold must be of comparatively rar9 occur-
rence. But, on refwring to 1 Cor. L 14 —
16, we find that Paul wrote at so long as
interval of time afterwards, that be oooki
not distinctly reooUeet whom he had bap-
tized, and that the household of Stephants
was '* the ^rst-frnits of Aehaia." Remem-
bering these facts, in eoonexioo with the
early age at which Timothy addicted him-
self to the ministry, the boasted inference oi
our opprneots falls to the ground.
IV. Of the many subaidiaiy arguments is
favour of Infant Baptism which may be
derived from incidental allusions in the epo-
tles, it must here suiBoe to indicate twa.
In 1 Cor. z. Paul draws a parallel betwcea
the early Jewish church and the Christisa
dispensation, and declares that ''all eer
fathers . . . were aU baptiud unto Moses.
under the cloud and tn the seaJ* How, what
analogy can this baptism of the whole Jev-
ish nation, from the most aged patriarch t>
the new-bom infant (for the in&nta vrv
certainly shrouded in the cloud, and carri^C
through the Red Sea), bear to an exdnave
ceremony of baptism *'unto Jesos,^ wliert
adults and infants are alike ezdnded uata
they have produced evidence of canveisifla.
The passage is an inexplicable blunder, «!>
less we admit In&nt Baptism, Again, ia
Gal. iii. 17, Paul argues that the oorensst
with Abraham still remaina *^ diaannnUed.
The seal of that oovenaat was cirramcisi^,
which being abolished, the mfaatitatcd set!
of baptism must be co-txtenaive tberewitk
i e., must be extended to iafrnts.
V. The testimony of the Fathers. Jvads
Martyr, on the very verge of the apos-
tolio age, speaks (ApoL I.) of "bm& aa&
women amongst us, sixty and serentj yesn
old, who were dist^pUd to Christ m thii'
ehUdhoodf** thus proving the existence ei
Infant Baptism m tis l^stims </ the atpos-
ties. Clemens Romanns aaya that ** ee%:iaal
sin afiects infants," and thai thefeiste they
IN iiAKMONT wrrn the BCRiprrRKS ?
299
should be baptized. Poljcarp, the disci plv
of St. Jolm, when at martyrdom he wu.s
nrgcd to deny Chri^it, replied, " Etghty-
nx years have I served him, and he
never wron;^ me." To iiap])ose this refers
to conversion in the years uf diboretion is
beyond all probability. Ircnacus (Adv.
Hacres. ii. c. 39) sjiys, " Christ CAnie to save
all persons .... who by him arc recjene-
nted to God, — infants, and little ones^ and
yoang and old;" and Ncander (Hist. i. 361)
lemarks that in Irenicus we crmnot under-
stand ** anything else than baptism as meant
by refjcneration." " The. church has received
tradition from the tqHystks to gire baptism
to m/mU/* (Origen, Com. in Kom. lib. v.).
** Infants are baptized, l>ecan.se by biiptism
the corruption of their birth is removed"
(Origen, Horn. 14 in Lnc. ii.). Terlullian,
in the third century, admits (L)e Bapt. c. 13)
Infant Baptism to be the general n$a;;e,
thon^h he opposes it ; this we cannot wonder
at, when we tind that he denied the forgive-
ness of sins committed after baptism. If
car Baptist friends adopt one of his dogmas,
let them adopt both; and (like him) limit
the dinne mercy as well as the divine com-
suuid. In A.D. 253 Cyprian, with sixty-six
Inshops, decided that baptism might be
administered to the newly bom (Cyjir. Ep.
64) ; the only object of their conference was
to decide whether, like circumcision, it onght
to be delayed until the eighth day aiter
Urth.
The sum of our argument is this. Infant
Baptism is grounded — I. On the example of
John's baptism, which was identical with the
Cbristian rite. 2. On the divine command
of Christ to baptize *^all nations." 3. On
the teaching and practice of the apostles.
4k On the doctrinal allusions of tlic Epistles.
5. On the testimony of the Fathers. On
the other hand, believer-baptism is an im-
possibility in the present age, and did not
exist eren in the days of the apostles, as we
seo by the examples of Simon Magus, of
Hjmeneus and Alexander, of Phygellus and
Hamu^nes, of Demas, and of many other
** false brethren*" who thus entered the pri-
mitiTe church.
In conclusion, let us ask our Baptist
£ri«iids> What is baptism? If it convey
divine grace by the ageni-y of water, why
deny it to infants? If it actually wash
away sin, why refuse it to those helpless
babes who are conceived in sin? If, not-
withstanding their incapacity of actual sin,
they are subject to the curse for Adam's
transgression, how can they be excluded
from the blessing? But if baptism has no
divine ofHcacy, and is only the seal of the
new covenant, why should infants be shut
out, umlcr the ** liberty" of the gospel, from
privileges enjoyed under the " bondage** of
the law? Again, — if baptism be the viMble
sign of initiation into the kingdom of Christ,
why refuse it to those whom he has declared
to be members of that kingdom? If it be
the dedication of the person to God, why
ilespise the pattern atlordwl by that dedica-
tion of the " holy child Jesus," which cast a
halo of glory round the second temj»le never
possessed by the canned cherubim, the gold,
and the gems of the first? If baptism be a
symbolic observance, typifying the need of
spiritual purification, it is as appropriate to
the child as the adult, since all arc " con-
cluded under sin." And, lastly, if it bo a
mere meaningless sign, impose^l as a test of
obedience, there can be no reason for restric-
ting the generality of the command. The
man-child, whom his parents neglected to
circumcise, " that soul shall be cut off from
my people; he hath broken my covenant."
The<e are the words of Deity, sjwken to
Abraham, and therefore, however strange to
reason, we dare not plead against them that
the infant was ** unconscious," helpless, and
incapable of avoiding the curse. To cast
children out of the pale of the church visible,
and to deny them the very name-sign of
discipleship, is the practice of the Baptists.
** Feed my lambs;" " Suffer little children to
come unto me, and forbid them not;** ** Who-
soever receiveth one such little child, receiv-
eth me;" are the tender words of our divine
Lord. We beseech our Baptist brethren to
re-consider their opinions; and, with the
affectionate earnestness of one who believes
that they have no justification whatever for
their creed, we conclude in the solemn words
of waniing uttered by Christ, " Take heed
that ye despite not these little <mes^ Matt,
xviii. 10. B. S.
300
WHICH WAS THB GREATEST POET, MILTOK OB SHAKSPERB ?
:^lliliisn|iln|.
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, MILTON OB SHAKSPEBE ?
SHAKSPEBE.— ABTICLE I.
*' Iq poetry there is but one tvpreme.
Mighty aud biMiuteous."
The mind that has been engaged in the
•contemplation of the sablime works of genios
is often led to refer to some grand featare, or
beautiful scene in nature, in order to enibodj
its conceptions and ideas. As the chamois
hunter, standing on the plains below his
native Alps, traces on a cloudj daj some
two of those colossal heights upward till
their romantic summits, piercing "as with a
wedge** the **ebon mass," are hidden from
his view, would not know which was the
Joftier if he had not with dauntless foot
scaled some superior point, from which he
had learned their comparative altitudes; so
is it with us. We do not profess to have
risen to the summits of the sublime heights
«f Shakspere's genius, but that we have
gained certain ttand-powts, bv his aid, Irom
which we have been enabled to look upon all
the poetic geniuses of the world, ut qui infra
stmt. This spiritual elevation, arising from
the study of Shakspere, is the result of his
profound research and deep insight into the
mysteries of our own being, which may be
chftssed as moral, spiritual, and metaphysical.
It is the poetry of Shalcspere, considered
under these three points, which claims pre-
eminence over any found in the tome of unl-
Tersal poetry.
The study of Shakspere has the same
result as the philosophy of Kant, Hegel, and
Schelling, giving a deep insight into moral,
spiritual, and metaphysical truth, without
the evil which arises from the negative cha-
racter of the popular German philosophy.
The superiority of the writings of Shakspere
thus considered, and coatrasted with those
of Milton, is manifest. We speak reverently.
The highest poetry is " the most philosophical
of all writing.** The epic grandeur, the
beautiful language, the classic power and
perfect harmony of thought and symbol found
in Milton are unsurpassed by any contempo-
rary or other writer.
But these do not constitute poetry, the
greatest poetry; they are merely artistic
In order to set forth the greatness of Shak-
spere*s poetry, it is necessary to furnish a
true definition of poetry of the highest order.
Many and beautiful are the definitions found
in the poets; but, were we required to give a
perfect one from poesy, it could only be doae
by the judicious collection and association of
many. Channing has, we think, in many
splendid passages, shown what is the nature
of the highest poetry. He answers the
question, '*VVhat is poetry?** by penetrating
into and unfolding its glorious effects. Of
poetry we must judge, as we do of divinity,
by its results.
*' Poetry has a natural alliance with onr
best affections. It delights in the beauty
and sublimity of the outward creation, amd
of the souL It, indeed, pourtrays with t<r«
rible energy the excesses of the passioos;
but they are passions which show a migbtj
nature, which are full of power, which com-
mand awe, and excite a deep though shud-
dering sympathy. Its great taidemqf and
purpose is, to carry the mind beyond azid
above the beaten, dusty, weary walks of
ordinary life, to lift it into a purer element,
and to breathe into it more profonnd aikl
generous emotion. It reveals to us the love-
liness of nature, brings back the freshness
of early feeling, revives the relish of simple
pleasures, keeps unquenched the entbusiasse
which warmed the spring-time of our bein^,
refines youthful love, strengthens our interesi
in human nature by vivid delineations of its
tenderest and loftiest feelings, spreads ocr
sympathies over all classes of society, knits
us by new ties with universal being, and,
through the brightness of its prophetic visjoo^
helps faith to IcQf hold on the fuhtre ^ft^
If this is a true description of the effects o£
the highest poesy, we may safely oooclude
with Goethe, Schlegel, UUici, Gniaot, Cole-
ridge, and other master minds, that Shak-
spere is the greatest poet the world ha5
seen, and that not till the subhme genins of
his poetxy has been fathomed and man fully
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, MILTON OB SHAK8PERE P
301-
comprehended shall his equal appear. Every
student of Shakspere cannot bnt discern how
Channing, in his general description of poetry,
}\m^ shown the great features of Shakspere's
poetry, and its inflaence on his own profound
mind.
The entire Shaksperian drama is the mighty
product of the power which he sets before us
bj enumerating its actings, its influences,
and its results. Shakspere, in his highest
efforts, is found delineating moral and spiri-
tual character and truth, ever casting the
penetrating light of his searching genius on
the world-wide mystery of moral evil and
man. He does not embrace a negative phi-
losophy to avoid it; ho does not soothe his
i^irit with the idea of ultimate restitution ;
neither does he treat it in toto as the inevit-
able concomitant of human existence. No.
He studies man; and, finding his whole being
associated with moral evil, he struggles with
the terrible fact with a power superhuman
and almost divine; and, though he finds not a
■olation to the dread mystery, he shows us
by the radiance of his genius how true the
assnrance of a higher revelation is — that
what we know not now we shall know here-
after. It is this which gives unity to his
writings, and invests them with a profundity
of truth, beauty, and wisdom, which, under
the poetic and artistic power of his original
mind, have become the most sublime embodi-
ments of thought and feeling ever penned by
man! The highest poetry is, we conceive,
that which treats of man in his moral and
spiritual natures, and their ever-var^ring
l^iases; under the guidance of a sound phi-
losophy and deep penetration divesting hu-
manity of that which b not real, and of every
fiUse appearance which self, society, or habit
has rendered permanent; in a word, the
greatest poetry is that which teaches man
most of man.
" Poets are, henceforth, the world's teacher$"
The poet has to do with man as he is, that
he may show him his destiny ; with the pre-
sent, that he may reveal the future; with
the past, that he may teach him wisdom.
This is the most prominent characteristic of
Shakspere's poetry, and that which gives
him, as a poet, pre-eminence. No modem
poet has come nearer this standard than
GoSthe. If this is the true standard of
poetry, the dramatic is superior to the epic.
Milton was devoted to the epic, Shakspere to
the dramatic. The dramas of Greece and
England contain the highest efforts of genius,
and have exerted a greater influence on mind
in all ages of their history than epics.
.^2schylus, Sophocles, Euripides, and Shak-
spere, have exerted a mightier influence on
the world than Homer and Milton, because
they have embodied in their works the greatest
genius, poetic and artistic.
The contrast between Milton and Shak-
spere is remarkable, and shows the peculiar
mental idiosyncracies of both.
Milton chose the epic, Shakspere the dra-
matic; Milton the supernatural as his chief
theme, Shakspere the natural.
Milton made divinity, heaven and hell,
holy and unholy, angels and their conflicts,
the chief objects of his contemplation;
Shakspere made earth as it is, man as he t>,
and moral evil in its innumerable forms, and
its strug;!:les with moral good, the chief
object of his. The one produced an epic
poem which " is, perhaps, the noblest monu-
ment of human genius," whose grandeur
overpowers the reader, but leaves him as it
found him ; the mysteries of his nature un-
solved, tlie great inquiries of his agitated
spirit unanswered. The other produced a
series of dramatic pieces, "not for an age,
but for all time ;*' not for one nation, but for
humanity ; in which man is the great sub-
ject— ^lib condition, his nature, his character,
his powers, his passions, his virtues, his vices^
his conflicts witli the world and evil powers,
his falls and triumphs, his joys and sorrows,
hopes and fears — all set forth in the light of
truth as great realities, in whicli every man
may see much of himself, and learn the
highest wisdom. The greatest poet is he
who teaches man most of himself, by casting
light on the dark phases of his being. That
poet is Shakspere. We have more interest
and/aith in him than in Milton, because he'
creates a sympathy between himself and his
reader which a deeper acquaintance increases,
until he lives again, and becomes his friend
and Mentor.
His writings are the ^noptis of humanity
and the mirror of nature. In announcing
the object of the drama he expressed the
chief characteristic of his poetry : its " end,
both at first and now, was, and is, to hold as
*twere the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue
her own feature, scorn her own image."
908
WaiOH WAS TUB GmEATBtfT FOXT, MILarOV OB BBAKflTSBB?
Bcnoe hi* writiop yomtm thai
^ power which if the orer-growUi ef the
hj^beet poecjr — ^imsistible ooDtnl orer the
auDd of the reader. We feel hie gnttamM in
put, and oor knowledge is far inferior to oar
feeliqg. Thif eooacioiiBnese results in mental
•objectioo. The stud j of Sbakspere leasee
a vivid impreai of his geoios on the most
origioal and profoond minds; it gires an
impulse and bias to intellectoal life, which
is seen in ever^ inteUectnal effort; its in-
fluence blends itself with the most latent
energies and feelings of the soal; henoe the
most profound student of his works exclaims,
^ Wonder-making heaven, what a man was
this ShakBperel''
Shakspere's perception of external beantj
Mras exquisite. His imagerj was of the
highest order and most impressive nature.
We feel that he was '' Nature's darling,"
" To whom the moUi«r did unveil
Her awful face. "
He nses the most common things with the
most perfect and bappj effect. His imagevy
is as perfect and artistic as his design. It
is one of
" the chains that tie
The hidden toul of harmony.**
Beanty is another prominent featnre of
his poetrj, and this is the result of the per-
fection and harmonj which pervades it.
Trulj has Emerson said: — "He loves
virtue, not for its obligation, but its grace;
he delights in the world, in roan, in woman,
for the lovely light that sparkles from them.
Beauty, the spirit of joy and hilarity, he
sheds over the universe.** He charms os as
the first masters in painting do, by the har-
mony, uniqueness, and justness of his pro-
ductions. Perfection is an attribute of his
delineations. " He carried bit powerful exe-
cution into minute details, to a hair point;
finishes an eyelash or dimple as firmlv as he
draws a mountain; and y«t these, like Na-
ture's, will bear the Krutiny of the sohur
microscope.'*
We have yet one other feature of Shak-
spere's poetic greatness to notice — ^the meta-
phyiicaL Chamuig has said >—** The fielkns
of genins are often the vehicles of the sub-
limest verities, and its Bashes often open new
regions of thought, and throw new light oa
the mysteries of our beiQg." Of the woiks
of no poet or philosopher can this be affinned
with greater tmth than fihakqiere'a. His
deep metaphysical philosopby pemkdes them,
and is the one eUment or cootinolty. ^ He
is inooncnvably wise.'* The prafonnd is as
much the dement of his intdlectoal action
as it is the assomed background of other
authors. He does not show us the limits of
the unknown, but by his piercing insigbt
throws us ''fathoms deep" into it! He
makes us feel that we are the ''fankcn
lights" of divinity, and that pore thoogfai
and truth, love and beauty, lead ns back te
the source of nniverul bong. Wordsworth
most, of all modem poets, resembles him in
this aqwct.
''Hamlet" is the impersonation of the
moral problem of our spiritual nature; vsd
who ever read his four great xnoDolognes
without becoming a profonnder atudoit?
The flashes of thought which they oontsia
are as the vivid lightning which sometimei
plays in the heavens enveloped in midnighi
darknees!
" The Midsummer Xight's Dream'* h faQ
of the subtleties and Iwauties of profound
and origioU thought.
The " Merchant of Venice" is a great dc^
sign, whose end is the development of om
great moral idea. In fact, the tendencr cf
Sbakspere 8 genius was to make all things
subservient to moral principle, truth, lore,
life, and beauty.
We have thus briefly glanced at the pe-
culiar characteristics if Sbakspere as a poet
which give him pre-eminence among this
world's great ones; and we conclude with the
words of one who has studied the geotni of
the immortal dramatist: — ^"It must even c^'»
into the world's history, that the best p^
led an obscure and profane lile, amag hii
genius for the public amuaemenL"
E.W.S.
MILTON.~iRTTCLE I.
i«
The poet's eys, ia a fine trmxj rolUog,
Doth glance Arom heaven to earth, from earth
to h«aTeu ;
And, as Imafdoation bodt«e forth
The forma of t^ioga unlmowii, the poet'i pen
Toraa them to ah^iea.aad givwto airy nochiaig
A local habitatioQ and a name." Skmi»m€n.
" Poetiy is Itself a thing of God:
He made hia prophets poeta, and tfie
WHICH WAS THK OSBATKST POBT, UILTOar OB SBAKSPKRB?
90S
Wtf fttl of poe^y flo w« beeome
like Qod in love and power." Bailey.
** BkMiuic* be with them, and tternal praiee,
Tbe poets, wbo oa earth have made us heirs
Of truth, and pure delight, by heavenly lays."
On entering upon the diBcasbion of sacb a
subject as the present, a thoughtful man
roust be deeplj impressed with rererential
humilitj. Being conscioos of his own little-
ness in cooipansoQ with **tho great and
mightj dead," he feels that criticism upon
their works, conducted with care however
«xact, may expose him both to self and social
condemnation for that degree of hardihood
and presumption which it seems necessary
for bim to possess.
Hilton and Shakspere! time -hallowed
names, that fall upon our ears with echoes
of thrilling interest, recalling with pleasurable
emotion the time when our youthful imagi-
nations were first led spell -bound by your
fascinating lyres! The remmi:»cences of our
early days give increased energy to our
youthful devotion, and more sobriety to the
praises we now render to your memory. May
a pleasing fate ever preserve you from
** The noisy prai«e
Of Kiddy crowds, who, eliangeable as winds,
" • • • • •
Praise aud admire they know not what,
Aud know not whom, but as one leads the other ;
• • • • •
Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise."
With feelings of extreme diffidence we
venture upon a comparison of the poetic
genius of England's greatest poets. We feel
our need of the poet's inspiration, and would
reverently utter the words of the learned
I^uritan himself: —
** And chiefly thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer
ViKion 9h temples the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me; for thou know est. • • •
• • ♦ • What in me is dark
lUiunine; what is low, raise and support;
That to tbe height of tins great aiigununt
I may assert"
the claims of his own cnatioofl — the great
and glorious Milton.
The latitude alk>wed to poets in the choice
of their subjects far exceeds that conceded to
other writers. Tbe poet is considered equally
at home in the unseen as in the visible worl^ ;
his heroes are with equal propriety denizens of
this terrestrial sphere, Pandemonium, Mount
Olympus, or the heavenly world. But
unlimited as may be tbe range of his choice,
however high on the eagle wings of imagi-
nation he may soar, or however low he majr
fiill, still some rules must be observed in the
productions of his genius, by which men maj
judge of the quality of his intellectoal labour.
MiHoD was a poet ; he has left behind him
the fruits of his genius in many admirable
productions, but especially is liis sublime
genius manifested in his '^raradtse Lost.*'
Is there in this poem sufficient evidence to
prove him a great genius? Will this en*
denoe sustain a favourable comparison of its
anthor*s genius with that of the ^Street
Bjrd of Avon**? — in fact, will it place him in
the exalted position of England's greatest
poet? We venture to affirm that it will,
and rely on an approving verdict from oor
readers.
There has been some little dispute among
critics as to tbe particular name by whi<^
they shall designate with technical precision
** Paradise Lost." We are not over fond of
technicalities, nor of the diitcttssions pertain-
ing thereto; consequently we consider it of
little importance whether it be called by one
name or another ; it is sufficient for our present
purpose if it is shown to be of the highest kind
of poetry— a divine poem. To sustain this
duuacter it most possess the following pe-
culiar features: — The poem« considered as a
fuble, must have unity, entirety^ and great'
nessj as constituent elements; its characters
must be varied and consistent; the sentiments
natural, sublime, elevated, and pure ; and the
language correct, clear, and worthy of the
subject upon which it is employed.
The action to be celebrated in this poem
is the fall of man* Our author introduces
the reader, in the opening book, to the infernal
council of Pandemonium, where Satan and
his compeers in solemn conclave devise means
to effect
" Man's first disobedience,"
whereby he
" Brought death into the world and all our woe.**
To this is subordinated the following scenes:
the war in heaven— tbe overthrow of the
rebek — their fall into hell — tbe creation <^
the world — of Adam — the miraculous pro-
duction of Eve, and her presentation to
Adam, with the several episodial beauties
running parallel with the great scope and
design of the creating and directing genios.
Respecting its entirety, we have to observe
304
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, HILTON OB BHAKSFBBB ?
its commencement in the council of fallen
rebels, its progress in the temptation of man,
and its completion on his expulsion from the
Garden of Eden. Its greatness is manifest
from the fact, that all the powers of hell are
joined in solemn compact to effect the de-
struction, not of an individual, but of a whole
species; not of a man only, but of the whole
human race; but man finds a friend, who
" sticketh closer than a brother," in the Mes-
siah, and protection more than equal to the
machinations of hell's dark conclave from
the Almighty God. Thus the poem com-
prehends all that is great in heaven, earth,
and hell. Can there be greatne^ greater
than this? The characters are varied and
consistent : perfect purity and love, implacable
hatred and deepest guilt, spotless innocence
and consummate subtlety, almighty power
and infinite wisdom — all have their due em-
bodiment and consistent expression. The
sentiments uttered are so natural to each of
the persons, that their removal in any case
would be the annihilation of the person and
the character sustained. Nothing low, mean,
grovelling, or vulgar appears, to gratify the
cravings of the hypercritical, but a sublimity
and elevation apposite to perfection. In no
one particular does our author so peculiarly
excel as in the purity of his sentiment. No
sensuality, no low vice, no impure scenes or
conversations, are introduced ; it is the high
moral tone and purity of sentiment which
sanctify the native genius and acquired
learning of Milton, which will give to him
lasting celebrity on earth, and an honourable
position amid the angelic band, when,
" Lowly reverent.
Towards either throne tlicy bow."
It now^ remains for us to offer a few remarks
on the language of the poem. This should
be clear without being too familiar; expres-
sions frequently tised in our daily discourse
upon the ordinary affairs of life lose their
fitness for the poet's use ; he requires terms
clearly expressing his thoughts in a dignified,
noble manner, equal to the sentiment they
body forth in sound, intelligible to all cul-
tivated minds, but free from the pollution
of the world's drudgery. To attain this
Milton has used metaphors, bold but just,
and truly picturing to the mind, in an elegant
and pleasing manner, the idea in the mind of
the writer. Another method ho has adopted
shows the extent of his erudition, without
the unpleasantry of the pedant, by tlie bnra-
tiful introduction of the idioms q£ the Ltfin,
Greek, and Hebrew languages (see book xl).
which he has naturalized, to give a sonoms
and rich melody to the music of his verse.
In the exercise of consummate skill tai
extreme delicacy, he has moulded them iritii
the richness of our own language, and elabo-
rated from his mighty intellect a poem whicli
no improvement, however great, in poedc
taste and talent, will ever bring into eoc-
senescence; hence the peculiar propriety of
the remarks of Addison, that by the help ■ :
his extensive literary acquirements, and "tl»
choice of the noblest words and phrases wLie!:
our tongue would afford him,** Milton " hi»
carried our language to a greater height thas
any of the English poets have ever dor:
before or after him, and made the sublimitj
of his style equal to that of his sentiments.'
From the limited space allotted to tbi»
paper, we have spoken upon each of the foic-
going topics in the roost general terms tlie
subject will admit, in order to avoid the vh
cessity of numerous quotations. At aoBa
future period we may be permitted to resoiv
our labours in a less generalized manner; is
the mean time we refer our readers to tbe
poem itself for farther confirmation of tk
views we have mmntained.
In answering the question at the hetd d
thb article, and assigning to Milton the pia-
nacle of fame, we beg the candid friendt <t
Shakspere to receive our assurance that oo
detraction from the genius of tlieir poet is
intended. We are aurdent admirers of tbe
beauties of his poems, and admit but ooe ts
rank in precedence before him — the greater,
because purer and more sublime, Miltcc
The thoughtful and considerate reader cl
some of Shakspere's works will not £ul to
observe their moral unfitness for perusal Ij
the youthful and virtuous in the conditio
the author left them. The gross impurities
of speech and immoral tendencies of rnanf
scenes, and of several entire plays, plaor
them almost beyond the pale of critidsEo;
in evidence of this we need only refer to
" Measure for Measure,** ** Much Ado aboat
Nothing," "Antony and Cleopatra/ "-Tt-
ricles. King of Tyre," "Titus Andronioii,'
" The Rape of Lucrece,*' " Venus and Adooii.''
and some passages even in the most celebcated
pieces, such as ** Hamlet" Although in Um
plays referred to there may be many beanti-
18 A3 ATTEMPTED INVASION OF ENGLAND PBOBABLB ?
305
fol passages, jet there is so mnch of tlie
ricioas, impure, and depraved, that they
sacrifice all right to be considered great,
Qonsistent, elevated, or pare; hence we legi-
timately infer the inferiority of their author's
genius in comparison with Milton's. We
believe depraved genius, whether employed
in poetry or prose— whether a poet, novelist,
historian, or philosopher — to be but splendid
gnilt; we have, with Milton, an exalted idea
ait the true poet, for
• • • • "the more
We feel of poesj, do we become
Like God* • • •.
We thus estimate true poetry " as being a
work not to be raised from the heat of youth
or the vapours of wine, like that which flows
firom the pen of some vulgar amourist, or the
trencher fury of a rhyming parasite; nor to
be obtained by the invocation of dame Me-
mory and her syren daughters ; but by devout
prayer to that Eternal Spirit, who can enrich
wiUi all utterance and knowledge, and sends
ont his seraphim with the hallowed fire of
his altar, to touch and purify the* lips of
whom he pleases. To this must be added
industrious and select reading, steady obser-
vation, insight into all seemly and generous
arts and affairs."*
We conclude, for the present, with an ex-
tract from the Hon. T. B. Macaulay's criti-
cism on Milton, as exemplifying with great
clearness and propriety the character of our
poet. He says: —
• Milton's account of his own studies. — Prote
Works, vol. i. p. IG.
** Like the Puritans, he lived
'As ever in his great Taskmaster's eye.'
Like them, he kept his mind continually
fixed on an Almighty Judge and an etcroi^
reward; and hence he acquired their con-
tempt of external circumstances, their forti-
tude, their tranquillity, their inflexible reso-
lution. But not the coolest sceptic or the*
most profane scoffer was more perfectly free
from the contagion of their fanatic delnsiooSy
their savage manners, their ludicrous jargon,
their scorn of science, and theu* aversion to
pleasure. Hating tyranny with a perfect
hatred, he had, nevertheless, all the estimable
and ornamental qualities which were almost
monopolized by the party of the tyrant.
There was none who had a stronger sense of
the value of literature, a finer relish for every
elegant amusement, or a more chivalrous
delicacy of honour and love. Like the hen>
of Homer, he enjoyed all the pleasures of
fascination; but he was not fascinated. He
listened to the song of the syrens; yet he
glided by without being seduced to their
fatal shore. He tasted the cup of Circe ; bat
he bore about him a sure antidote against the
effects of its bewitching sweetness. The
illusions which captivated his imagination
never impaired his reasoning powers.**
Through the character of the man we look
at his work; through the work we look at
the character of the man; and from the com-
bined advantages of this twofold study of his
genius we are confirmed in our judgment
that Milton is the greatest of English poets*
L'Oirv&iEB.
JUDGING FROM THE HISTORY AND PRESENT STATE OF FRANCE, IS AN
ATTEMPTED INVASION OF ENGLAND PROBABLE ?
NEGATIVE REPLY.
Natural history informs us of a water-
bird which, when seeking its prey, arises
into the air above the sea, and by the use of
its keen vision discovers its victim in the
depths below, and in an instant descends
into the waters, and as quickly ascends to
the sodaoe with it To this wonderfully-
gifted bird we cannot compare the genius of
J. C. M'C. or B. S. in philosophy ; but rather
to another of the feathered tribe, which is
generally found in shallow places, either
catching its prey on the surface or in the
mud beneath. In this our final reply, we
shall confine ourselves to the articles of
306
JUDODTO FROM THB HmOST ABD PRXSEirr BTATB OF FBAXCK,
J. C. M'C. and B. &, our opponenU; as
W. G. S. IL*s is bat the echo of what niaj
be found in their articles.
For the aake of oonciMBess nt thai! eia-
mine them eeparatelj.
J. G. M^. VMS a anperficial philoaophj;
and, oonaeqaentlj, his argamenta are not
onlj inadeqoate, jpro ^uo erat dewkmttranAtm^
but inc<Hitinaoa8 and ineoherBnt We wUl
brieflj dneidate oar assertion; and far be
it from us to jndge in anj other than a
candid spirit. The application of the beaa-
tifoi prophecf with which he opens his article
is as inconsistent as his .arguments are im-
potent. The flippant waj in which he ad-
Terts to the Peace Society, and its *^ ahsord
theories," we pass faj as unworthy of further
oonsidenttioo. Whaterer be the defects of
this Bocietj, it stands as a noble monament
of the power and progress of Christianitj
amid ten thousand antagonistic dements,
and is as far above all these underhand in*
sinuations as are the celestial battlements of
the empyrean abore us. No One can, we
think, candidly read the second diapter of
Isaiah withont coming to the conclnsion that
the words quoted by J. C. M*C. w^re used by
the prophet to indicate k period prior to the
millennimn; the beating "of swords into
ploughshares, and spears into pruning-
hooks," and the univenal abdition of war,
would be only an evidence of the coming of
Christ's spiritual kingdom. To us the mil-
lennium, or full reign of Christ, appears dts*
tant, very distant; but the period when war
shall ffjT ever cease— if history, if civiliaa-
tioQ, if education, if the mighty efforts of
mind, teach us anything, it is that that
period is not far distant when nations -shall
cast abide fur ever the ignoble rtUct of bar-
barism, and appeal, in all questions of na-
tional right, to moral and intelligent power,
not to brute, physical, mechanical force. Ere
}jbt full reign of the God-man come, the
abolition of war, like the abolition of feu-
dalism and slavery, or the worship of Moloch
and Mahomet, shall have long become the
facts of history, even ancient history.
We fully admit that Frsooe, as a nation,
IS ** most distingnbhed for its militaiy pro-
pensities** of any of the Europesn nations;
but we reject the conclusion in toio that,
because ire have enjoyed peace so long, toe
may expect " that when the war does break
oat it will be very aerere." Aeoording to
this anomaloas theory, peaee is the €oi«-
nnmer of war, hannony of coi^asian, coDcoid
of anarchy; and the Ipt^er the peace, the
Mverer wUl be the war. Does not J. C. M'C
intimate that war, until the dawn of the
minennium, will be periodica], and a kind of
Ma/etjf-valte for the workl? la thia not, to
use his ovm words, an ''afasiird thaory,** in
which the dements of his confased phikisBphy
become "confuskm wone oonfoanded** cveiy
step he takes? Let it, then, ba ii ntiiBi
bered that J. C. M'C. plainly makes the fact
that peaee ka$ been eontimied $o long (!)
the foundation of his theory, the object <^
which is to prove that an attempted invason
of England is piubable. Aocofding to this»
would it not be as easy to prore that Frsnoe
would in all probability, ere long, invade the
territories of the Hottentots or the GrecnUnd-
ers? Because France is a military nation, and
peace has been enjoyed some thirty-eagfat
years between the powers that met in mightx
conflict on the plsins of Waterioo, we are to
believe that an invasion is now probaUe!
Is it possible? Statementa in the Comtro^
versialiMt stand for facts as a matter of phi-
losophy, or for nothing at all; facts with
which we must plainly deal. If this be in-
ductive philosophy, our readers may expect
that, because certain nations have enj<iy^
peace so much longer than we hava, the ter-
rible time is drawing nigh when thej shiU
be torn with more direful omflict thiin any
chronicled in history!
J. C. M'C. having thus laid the fouods-
tion of his absurd theoty, be proceeds t«
develop the theory itself. How? By ad-
vancing two reasons, not to valid and *" coa-
dusive** as he intimates they must be 'Jt
every ''unprejudiced mind."
First. That the *' invasion of England k^
ahpo^M been an object of desire and antictpi-
tion to the French soldier.** Even admittio^
this assertion, it supplies no aiigument ta
prove the probability tA an invasion. TL*
only way to reuder it of any service at all
would be to assert what is not frae^ and whs!
our opponent is honest enough not to aSnc.
that the invasion of England has not onlj
always been, hot, defaeio, ti iioip, the deaini
of the French soldieiy. This he does net
advance, for good leaaons; without it his
argument is useless and his timsfr fUxsL
Whatever vuuf have been the Feneh aaldiv's
desire on this aabject, it hat been ant only
IS AK ATTEMrTSD nHrinOX OF EHOX^AWD PBOBABLE ?
307
eoosidenUy noii'ifM, bfst radioaUjf dianged
and TtfarmBd. Fnmct kts ben long in Um
school of bittflr ezpeiifloeei and her aoos have
learned " the *■ moral leaaoD ' deariy bongfat,"
It appean, then, thai J. G. U'O/s first great
"coocloaive'' aignment jmo, when viewed in
the light of actoal factf beeomos an important
argument com. the point at iasne. The aaper-
stractnre of this theorj is as defectiTe and
onsouod as its premiaea, and b a hunentaUe
specimen of false philoaopbj.
The second argomeot ii J. C. M'C. is,
that a *' French ioTasim Is probable from the
present aspect of Popery on the Continent.*'
Unfortanately for onr frisnd*s theorj, liis
second argument is more abonrd and impotent
than his first, for it does not eren admit of
amendment at the expense of fact. From
the tenor of onr friend's remarks we can
plainly discern that he is no anti -state-
cbnrch airocate; that, in fact, be is much
attached to the established state church ; and
that from within its pale, and through its
distorted medium, he baa been viewing Eu-
ropean Catholicism, and trembling at it. To
him it doubtless appears a terrible thing.
He sees chariots and horsemen, fire and
sword, England bound, &c We ahould have
been better satisfied if our opponent had
defined the Protestantism of Britain, which
he thinks is in such imminent peril. For
onr own part, true Protestantism appears the
most stable and triumphant power under
liearen; and were it possible for all the
despots, all the priests of all false religions,
all the arms and brute force in the world,
with the powers of darkness, to be combined
to crush it, we would not, dare not, in the
sight of " high heaTen," doubt concerning its
eternal safety and ultimate triumphs. But
if by the term *' Protestantism " J. C. M'C.
means onr state church, he may well tremble
for its safety; for there is not a great political
agitation, or national struggle, or even coming
change, which docs not threaten to shake her
tottering iisbric to its foundation. True Pro-
te&tantism has but Uttle to do with state
churches. History says they are the shrines
of darkness and mammon; the same in Eng-
land, virtually, aa in France or Italy. Yes;
all state churches — Epiteopaey at home and
Papacy abroad — are doomed, and their fate
is sealed by the meekest words of the meekest
One, ^My kingdom is not of this world."
They that shelter themselves beneath them
may well fear. The true Protestantism of
Great Britain can smile at the cry of ** No
Popery!" at home, and all the threats from
Papacy abroad. England has mors to fear
from tiie Popery of the Epiacopaey than of
the Vatican. Puaeyism at houM is a greater
file to her best interests than all the Papal
powers of the Continent. There is something
truly absurd in these words: — **^ Yes; let it
never be forgotten, that if there be a war in
Europe, it will probably be a war of religion.'*
We lead in history of Crusades, which mean
holy wars; but they belong to ages of by.*
gone darkness and superstition: we never
expected to hear of them in the nineteenth
century. A reliffitms war! — it is a contra-
diction. Every sane man now admita that
war is one of the greatest evils found among
men; and yet it, too, becomes religions! It
would be just as consbtent to talk about
good evilij or hokf fends j as a reUghus war.
True and divine r^igion according to Christ
disowns war, and says to every warrior,
" Put up thy sword into his place; for all
they that take the sword shall perish with
the sword." We recommend the theology of
Isaiah and Christ to J. C. M'C, and ask him
on what authority he designates any war
" religious'* ? Christianity admits of no such
paradox, if Papacy and Episcopacy do.
We take our leave of this friend by coa-
gratnlating him that there '^ remains in
England the elements" of what has been
her glory for ages, the God-sent principles
of Christianity, more powerful now than
ever, and whidi preserves her unhurt amid
the convulsions of revolutions, the crash of
thrones, and the anathemas of popes and
frowns of despots.
Onr next opponent, B. S., refers to a former
debate to establish a position which ntu-
tralises the one he necessarify auumet ! If
we understand B. S.*s language, he desires
to qualify his position; and so, contrary to
the just arrangements of this magazine,
while professedly writing an affirmative
article he is not, which is neither honest nor
philosophic; for it is evident that, in reason-
ing, affirmative is the ruse vend of negative.
We cannot, then, but regard B. 6.*s position
as falUcious and incooaistent altogether; and
justly may we denounce his article as neither
" black nor white f* and, moreover, compare it
to the chameleon, which, according to the
poet, gave rise to so much uteleis contention.
808
JUDGIHO FROM TIIB HISTOBT AHD PBBSBirT STATB OF FBASCB,
In fact, it can stand for nothing touching an
affirmatiTe condonon, though, strange to
say, it appean for that express purpose.
Whj ? Because of ** the excessive vagueness
and latitude of meaning which attsiches to
the word * prohahle.' " This we are ready to
admit, if B. S.'s statements and dogmatic
assertions are true — ^if the true answer does
not really lie " between 0 and 1." But we
admit neither. Does not B. S. expose the
fallacy of his position by attempting to de-
monstrate the worth of a "variable finctian,"
and that, too, in a so-called affirmative
article? We are informed that " the imper-
fection of human language is so great ( !)
that it is scarcely possible to use it in debate
without seriously endangering the interests
of truth"! Had B. S. said, "without se-
riously exposing the fallacy of baseless the-
ories," he had been nearer the truth. Lan-
ffuage must, indeed, be imperfect, and truth
frail, according to B. S.'s notions of theml A
Teiy grave condnsion thU, withal, concern-
ing that language which stands in glorious
pre-eminence among all other languages. We
might remind B. S. of many debates in the
CofUrovereudwt in which our mother tongue
has been used to admirable effect, and on
points of far greater logical minutenete than
are involved in this debate. But to the point
B. S.*s article presents many salient points,
in which the probabilities of the case are
palpably against his own position. Although
B. S. takes neither the affirmative nor nega-
tive side of the debate, he evidently attempts
a negative reply to not a few distinct points
in our opening artide. To these we direct
our attention, and in so doing we must remind
B. S., as we had occasion to do on another
anbject, that theories must be based onfaets^
not suppositions ; on pure induction^ not dog-
matic assertion, affirmation, or negation.
If we consider B. S.*s article as what it
professes to 6e, an affirmative one; or what
it in reality is, a specious neutrality; it is a
perfect failure. His anomalous theory stands
on a pure and unwarrantable assumption, and
fordbly reminds us of J. C. M'C.'s first argu-
ment. B. S., as the basis of his theory,
says, " When war is resolved upon, the first
question which occupies the governments of
ih» conduding nations naturally and neces-
sarily is, * Where shall we commence hos-
tiUties?' " This is about as wonderful and
profound a statement as though one should
ask the question in any daylight affiur, " At
which point shall I commence, the beginning
or the end, the right or the wrong?** This
is the grand basis of his theory. It is an
attempt to lay down an assumption for a
foct. B. S. indirectly sneers at Dr. Corn-
well, Julius Cssar, B. Hall, and Byron, sa
authorities; but we would ask him oo what
authority, historic, poetic, literary, or rational,
he would have us receive his theory? In
vain, we think, might he search history,
poetry, or literature, to find anything so
absurd. Is war resdved upon? is the ques-
tion. This abstract inquiry, "When?" has
no more to do with the pbint at issue then
the mutations of this month's moon have to
do with the military tactics of Hannibal, a
the midnight dreams of B. S. There is no
connexion, no logical continuity in this part
of his artide, that we can discover. Is it
not an underhand assumption to show that
that really is or trtV? (e, which has been or
possibly might bef B. S. on this fallacy
grounds all he has to say, and pompooslj.
as Sir Oracle, asks the reader in c&ct,
"Think you that France has learned any-
thing by her past history — by the over-
whelming anardiy — ^the terrible revdutifSLs
—the appalling bloodshed — ^the complet^^
overthrow of andent dynasties — the estab-
lishment, progress, and final ruin of a des-
perate despotism — the tragic enactments <<*
1789, 1815, and 1848? Thinkest thou, 0
sane man! that one of the greatest natioc«
has learned anything from a history whk2i
contains such terrible things? If thoa do^t.
thou art verily wrong; for I say, FraBce
hath oft in vain heeti taught; Franee is
'resolved on war,' and only waits the rat
of the star of her destiny again to prore
that she is reckless of the lives of her socs
of valour. Believe me; I am Sir Oraclt."
This is the strain B. S. puisues, evidcBXlr
to his own satisfaction, though not to oars,
nor the reader's, we presume. We leave the
intelligent reader to decide how far he ooo>
pliments common sense by attempting tc
show that France has leuned nothing as
yet from her history; a history which h^
taught the world — ^yea, even the despot who
Jiow "bides his day*' — that there is a God
in the heavens, whose onmipotent ann 15
stretched forth in the eanse of liberty, truth,
and justice; not only against Napdeon, bo:
against every man that tnmples on his
IB AH ATTBMFTED UTVABIOX OF EZTOIJIXD FRODABLB?
309
brother's sacred rights. It woald appear
that B. S. believes in the mystic doctrine of
destiny, or he wonld never deny the most
crident truth, that a man learns by past
experience ; his present conduct is influenced
by that experience; and thus it is, more or
Iws, with nations, they being but the aggre-
gate of individuals. If, then, B. S. would
insinuate that "war is resolved upon** against
England, we may deny it on the ground of
his own admission concerning the French,
fe" he says, the ''^feeling of the bulk of the
French nation u in favour ofpeact^! How
B. S. can make this admission concerning
the French, and then contend that an inva>
sion is highly probable, we know not. But
he presently adds : — '* The arguments to be
drmwn from considering the emperor's position
Kith regard to the people I have already
endeavoured to prove to be in favour of my
own side of the question." Truly, it is but
an endeavour, vain and futile. B. S. next
labours to prove from the history of Eng-
land (!) his position. lU presents the
{latient reader with an index of about twenty
different successful or unsuccessful attempts
to invade our shores, beginning with the
BoDian imrasion, and ending with ''the
{HgAQtic plan commenced at Boulogne.** We
do not enter into the chronological and sta-
tistical accuracy of his statements, as he
^ives no historic authority whatever. The
t//se dicit of B. S. in such matters is as
questionable as his logic on probabilities or
** variable fractions." How the invasion of
this island by the Romans is to prove an
attempt at the same by the Emperor in
France, let the reader imagine. Our humble
AjMnion is that history, on this point, goes to
prove the improbability of such an event.
I^t OS see. History attests that the mightiest,
the best disciplined, the bravest and hardiest
army, under the command of the greatest
/general the world has known, didj with the
fp-eatest difficulty, conquer the aborigines of
this land, whose only coat of mail was the
skin of wild beasts, and whose chief weapon
in war was the club, rough hewn by some
means from the vast, unexplored forests
anmnd them. B. S. gravely concludes that
this proves the truth of his position. Is not
England the second Bome in the world's
history? Does not the Emperor know this?
Has he not weighed the probabilities of the
case with sounder logic and deeper discri-
minatipn than B. S. here displays? His
conduct speaks plainly enou!;h; the cordial
reception of the London citizens' deputation,
to wit. Is he not aware that Englishmen in
the nineteenth century are far mightier than
their barbaric forefathers of the first, who so
bravely resisted the Roman power? The
gravity with which B. S. refers to the futile
attempts in favour of the Pretender, &c. &c.,
is perfectly ridiculous. As well might he
refer to the petty piracies to which some of
our foreign possessions may be subject. He
speaks of the amazing destruction of the
Spanish armnda; but what can we or the
Emperor possibly learn from that memorable
triumph over an invading foe? Surely not
that because the Spanish despot, with his
overwhelming army, was to signally defeated,
the French despot should make a similar
attempt? In fact, the evidence of history
weakens B. S.'s position materially, and
betrays the positive fallacy of his argument.
Attain; tlie mere assumption that England
is more liable to injury from invasion than
France, London than Paris, is contrary to
experience, and reminds us of a child crying
most piteously on hearing the lion roaring in
its iron-bound den, seeing nothing but danger
when its safety is an unquestionable fact. We
think we can easily point out to what class of
the community, as a politician, B. S. belongs.
Doubtless he has had some serious thoughts
about joining the "Royal Victoria Rifles,'* or
some other phalanx of human machines, to
butcher the Frenchman, or to be butchered
by him, as the case may be. We wish him
success should this "highly probable" in-
vasion which he prophesies occur. Our
opinion is, that this " sea-girt isle" of ours
contains the mightiest defensive power in
the world — a power that would crush a
Roman army, baflle the military tactics of a
Cxsar, and frustrate the craft of a Hanibal;
much more, then, the attempt of a nineteenth-
ccntury-fettered despot; for all despots can-
not now use their physical force as did t3rrantB
in past ages of barbarism, ignorance, and
superstition. If we may thus express our
thought, the divinity and energy of truth
justice^ and liberty ^ are more triumphant nov
than in the ages of the past, and, conse-
quently, error, injustice, and tyraimy, lesi
powerful. This is the manifestation of God
in history; and whoso attempts to carry out
tyrannous projects, rushes headlong on the
aio
jUDOoro ntox ths Bnrorr Am> psssssrr stats or fuxsck.
tbiek botses of the Almighty*! bockler. We
an aecQsed of dragging m Lord Byran's
poctrj to pvoTO wbat do one denies, and what
^ baa BOthiog to do witb tbe qaestion." In-
deed! Did we sot quote BjToa to show
what was, in part, tbe caiue of Bonaparte's
Bdlitarj snecessP^tbat isj tbe fact that bis
army was devoted to Him, sod obeyed 1dm
implicitly; not for money, &c., &e., but from
sincere attachment to their heroic general;
and this we said was not the cose with the
present Emperor and French army; conse-
quently he has less military power at com-
mand. What does B. S. think of J. K. C.'s
article on tbe character of Wellingt<m, for
he, according to B. S., drag$ m six poetic
extracts to illustrate his subject? For our
own part, we think such extracts, when they
apply to tbe question (and this much we
claim in onr case), are ornaments to our
debates. The same empty objection he
brings against an extract from Kobert Hall,
tbe application of which to the subject is
evident enough, and the power, beauty, and
thrilling truth of it B. S» cannot deny. We
think the arguments contained in our open-
ing article ** quite sufficient," at least until
some one proves them false, which B. S. has
attempted to accomplish; — ^how? — by dog-
matism, not logic; by mere negation, not
clear argument; by quibbling about autho-
nties, not meeting what they say. If, how-
ever, be wishes for more, though minor ones,
let him turn to J. 6. R.*8 articles on the
subject; tbey are worthy of bis pemasl.
What B. S. imagines about learrang the hia-
torj of a nation is a mistake. Let B. S.
plsice Hume*s or Goldsmith's "History cf
England" in the hands of an inqotriDg
Turk, or any foreigner, and bid him learn
the character of Englishmen therefrom, and
know how far he does that^ then he will
understand our words, **Tke character of ait
mttiofu it ortgatal f* then will be see thai
the key to written history is living character.
Hume wrote the fiofes^ while the English
nation wtu and is the text
In conetnsion, we answer B. S.*s questioa
concerning the revolutioo of 1815. It was
on the plains of Waterloo that tbe " fierre
Corsican" grappled with the allied powers ot
European monarchy. It was there be fell.
But when we speak of the revolution of 1815
as a manifestation of the democratic ekracct
overwhelming the meoarehic power, we refer
to the transactions snd effects of that mighfr
power emanating from the heart of one natnau
shaking the nionarchies of Europe, paseiz!^
through the heart of Europe as a aooonre to
tyranny and corrupt monarekiesy vAom
existence could only be secured by the tiaioo
of many powers, and tbe assemblage of over'
whelming numbers. Napoleon Bonaparte
fell, but not before be bad thus aecomjji^bfd
the work he bad to do. The only destiny ai
those who ab*xse their power u to beeotoe
unconsciously the instrum«its of a higbtf
power and a diviner purpose. BotXA.
AFFIRMATIVE REPLY
I CAimoT allow tbe debate on the invasion
question to come to a conclusion without
saying a few words in vindication of my
position. At the commencement of tbe dis-
cussion, I, not without due deliberation,
assumed a position, and to that position I
steadfastly adhere. When I used the ex>
presskm, tbe *' so-called Peace Society," I
did not do it inadvertently; I did not, how-
ever, mean, as J. 6. R. seems to insinuate,
that ** peace men" did not believe their prin-
ciplca; or, believing, did not practise them;
but I meant that those who thought that
tbey, by felkming those principles, would
promote peace, wen indirectly promoting
the probability of war. The Peace Society
la only such in name; nevertheless, its mem-
bera belirre their prmdplet, and set up to
them ; but, by so doing, augment the ebances
of war. I am fully penuaded that **t2»
best method of preserving peace ia to be pre-
pared for war.* But perhaps J. 6. K. irll
dissent from this; I therefore undertake to
prove it Suppose I was living in a remotf
habitation, in tbe midst of a lonely solitude,
and that 1 was daily in danger of berc^
attacked by banditti, with which the ceontrr
abounded; my property being in peril k
being plundered, and my me in peril ef
being sacrificed ; bow should I act? B<m
would J. O. R. himself act in similar cir-
cumstances? Would he go and leave btf
gates open, bis doora maasteneo, bts aafe^
unlocked? Would he not use every means
in bis power to prevent an easy entmiee?
Would he not bsva weapoB fai nadiaess,
IS Alt ATTEMPTED INVASION OF K^TGLA^ID PROBABLE ?
311
and would he not arm his scn'ants also?
And what is this but being prepare<l for
war? In all probability the robberSf when
they saw these ptfparatiofUy would abandon
their lip&ign. If all the world were tjtu
remt'd by the principles of chrtMtlan phltun-
thropjf — if all mankind were CohdenSy
SrightSy or Burhitta— the case would be far
different ; but^ when the proportion of these
is as one to a myriad^ they are not to be
trusted, Yoq may easily persuade a few in
France, and a few iu Austria, and a few in
Ikussid, to become peace men ; but are we on
that account to aboli&h our standinp; armies,
to level our fortresses, to raze our bumicks,
to melt our bnllets into their primeval letid,
and leave this mighty empire without even
the shadow of defence? Is the military
power of this country to commit deliberate
suicide, by planting; their artillery again.st
their own castles and batterieti ? No! Long
AS continental Europe supports standing
armies, so must we; long as continental
Earopc prepares for war, so mnst we. If
WB are not attacked, we shall have the satis-
faction of knowing that we were prepared in
ease we had been; and, if we aro attacked,
then those preparations will not have been
made in vain.
Bat why should not England be the first
to lay down her weapons, and thus vet a
gkiioos example to the rest of Europe?
Because Britain is the homo of freedom, and
the Continent is the dwelling>place of ty-
lanny. Becaofe Britain is the defender of
that faith which the continental nations
despise and trample under foot. The whole
of Europe is banded against her. Tyranny
and superstition have joined hand in hand
to crush the liberty and the truth of Britain.
HaTe they not? Let J. G. U. answer me.
Have they not made an aggression on this
country— ^lui aggresMon so monstrous that
it OQght to have aroused the hearts and
awakened the indignation of the most care-
less and indilferent? Think you Fius IX.,
unprompted, did this — a tyrant who had
been hurled from bis throne, from who!<e
bnnr the crown had been torn, and in whose
hand the sceptre had been broken? And
what natioa was it that restored the fallen
monarch, and was propping up his throne
with her bayonets, while he and his cardinals
writing that fkmoDS bull? The French,
What nation was it that drove our Protestant
missionaries from the fairest island in tho
Pacific, and is still doing all she can to bring
\{>> inh.ibitants under the dominion of Pn]>ery ?
Tlie French, Tahiti is England in minia-
ture. The possession of that island could
neither replenish an exhausted exchequer,
j nor promote commerce, nor benefit the French
! people ; but (ihey hoped) it would extinguish
' the freedom of its inhabitants, cru^h the
germs of its Protestantism, and deprive Eng-
, laud of an arena on which to display its
benevolent designs. And it is only our pre-
: parafions for war that have kept them from
attempting something of the kind with Eng-
land. It is uonsense to talk about such a
\ pn)ject being displeasing to the French
! people. The people were never asked whether
they should restore the Pope to his dominions
and destroy the liberty of Italy; nor whether
they should rob Great Britain of one of her
newly-gained dependencies.
As long as tho Emperor of Bufsia will
pend, without a moment's warning, the
highest of his nobility to the wastes of
j Siberia, or will crush the freedom of a
: Poland, or assist in crushing the liberty of
, a Hungary; as long as the French nation
[ stifles the rising flame of freedom in Italy,
and her Emperor acts the traitor to his
country; as long as the French butcher one
another in tho streets of Paris; we must be
prepared fur war. Do the French hate tho
; French? No. And yet they fight with
them, murder them, and massacre them.
They have set themselves up as the cham-
pions of the cross; they have assumed tho
' imperial eagle, which lives but to devour;
they have restored the Pope to his dominions,
, and resuscitated Popery. France and Rome
: are one. If an aggression is made on our
rights and religion by the Pope, it is not tho
I pope, but the French, who have planned it.
There are some who say, "Peace, peace!
when there is no peace." May England
never hearken to their voice; but, in spite
of the sneer of the politician, in defiance of
the clamours of the Peace Society, may she
be ever prepared to defend the right ; and,
with the blessing of God resting upon her,
; she shall be so protected and preserved that
" no weapon that is formed against her shall
prosper."
212 THE mOHT USB OF BOOKS.
€lit Intirtirs' lirtinn.
THE RIGHT USE OF BOOKS.
In offering jon a few hints as to the right use to be made of books, I may well aUmpt
to meet a question which respects ways and means. I remember an anecdote of a band of
German professors in a concert^ in which loud music formed a proihinent feature. Tbc
conductor of the band repeatedly exclaimed, "Louder! louder!'* while the enduring plijm
on flute, trombone, serpent, and other similar instruments, made vain endeavours to meet
his request. At length, one of them in despair put down the trumpet from his moath,
and said, " It's very veil for you to cry, ' Liouder;' but vere is de vind to come from?" So
some of you may be ready to say, Where are the books to come from ; and how are we t)
find the time to read them? To this I reply, Economise your money and redeem yo«
time, and the thing can easily be done. Even with those who have limited means, a well-
assorted collection of books may be obtained. Something may be redeemed from super-
fluous clothiug, from excessive pleasure, from wasteful habits — as cigar-smoking and
snuff-taking — to nourish, enrich, and beautify the mind with books. Where they canfiofc
be bought, they may be borrowed, and returned with care. By economising time in tbi
way of early rising, and by gathering up the fragments of the day, many a book maj Jk
advantageously read.
It has been well observed, that most of the men who have died enormooalj rich acquinl
then: wealth not in huge windfalls, but by minute and careful accumulatioos. It was not
one vast sum bequeathed to them after another which overwhelmed them with inevitaUi
opulence ; but it was the loose money which most men would lavish away, the little susi
which many would not deem worth looking after, the pennies and half-crowns, of whiA
you would keep no reckoning; these are the items which, year by year pOed np, ban
reared their pyramid of fortune. From these money-makers let us learn the Biofab
** avarice of time.** You may not be able to secure an entire week, or even an umntcr-
rupted day, for reading ; but try what you can make of the broken fragments of time.
Glean up its golden dust ; those raspings and parings of precious duration ; those leaving
of days, and fragments of hours, which so many sweep into the waste of existence. Be s
miser of moments, and you will become intellectually rich. As an iUustration of thb Idni
of economy, I may mention that a lengthy and elaborate translation of Luopetius wit
composed by Dr. Good, a physician, in the streets of London, when in busy practio,
during brief snatches of time when passing from one patient's door to another; and Dt.
Burney, the musician, with the help of pocket grammars, which he had written oat
acquired the French and Italian languages when riding from place to place to give Ibi
professional instructions. On this principle I would recommend you always to have etn
or more books in course of reading. Have some portable work at hand, that yoo may read
when you travel or walk into the country; not, indeed, having your eyes timed off tnm
the works of nature, wYuch txz ^ mo&t \|recious-book. Have a book withiir reach that yot
may lead at your fireside. Xou c»si \GA\i\^ \ii>^»»A\ci^\V%\RN.\»t 'vhiU 70a are yoonf
-and unmarried, than when a\wcto\m^<i^ wViXx NJtkft <»«& wA O^voa ^ ^^asMfio&x&u V.^«».
SIS
bookworm of ■ buUnd ii ■ moat unicitcintiDg compuum to ■ vomui tar life It U
recorded of DrrdcD, who roirried Ladf Eliiabclh Howvd, tliat tlie nutcb wu moit nn-
happT. Oa on« oocuiiia bin wifs compUioed of hii Hclaaioo, and wiabed that shs wen a
book, ttiat aba might tBJaj nior« of hii compauj. The poet replied, " B« an almanaek,
then, lUit I aaj change jon onoe a j^ear." For jon, gentlamni, I wiab a happier lot, and
sdvine fan to read and mDembcr now, llut joa ma; iiutract and imtiae hereafter.
in reailiog, ajkiw me to adviae Ibat voa chooM the moM nluable booka on anj anbjwt
to which yon are directJDg attention. It i> prepoaterona to read an inferior bo>A on a
ipven iherne, when the best mav as eamlj be aacnred. It was aome time aince preijicted
that cheap literatim would aooo drire sannd litnatarr oat of the market. Thia, happily,
baa not been rerified, fur soms of the most raluahle booka of the past and present age an
printed in a verj cheap form. Books that bear apon them the image and auperfcriptioD
of sterling qold abould be preferred to Bporiooa imitations. Who wonlJ fted on ashes when
Bolid and nutritioiu food is at hind? Aildict jonnelres in re&ding, aifar asposeitile, to tha
poreat models of taate which the literature of joar counlrj can aapply.
Aroid that kind of reading wblcb would enenate the ntiud and polble the imagination.
A flood of books of all sorts, good and bad, is apreading orcr Ihc whole laad, and joung
and old will read them. We cannot slop tbat bj law; we ought not if no could; it iaGod'a
<irdina(ire. It is more; it is God's grace and mercy that w« bare n free preaa in Knglandj
liberlr for ereiy man, that if be bare anj of God's truth be ma; tell it oat boldly in books,
in apeecbea, in aermona, or otbenrise. This blessing we should nrerence and not abnaa,
for it «aa dearly boogbt by our foreCitbe ra, many of whom left boase and home, or died oa
tlw acaSold, to aeenie liberty uC thought and word. You most not silence bad booka bj
•ct of parliament Yon dare not thos root up the tares, lest yon root up Ibe wheat also.
Tbe men wbo died to bay ns liberty knew it waa better to let in a tbonaand bad books
than to shot out a hundred goodouea, for a grain of truth will oulweigh a ton of lies. Wo
«aDDot, then, silence evil booka, but we can torn an-ay our eyes from them; ws can taks
«are that what we read, o encourage Dtben to read, la good and wholesome. Read no
boiA that yon would be aihamed for a mother or a sister to know yon read.
And in passing I would say, works of imagination and fielion should only be read
^•ringly, and as a relaxation from grarcr sludies. Much fiuiiiliarily with them giies a
^atute for the actual realitiea of lime, and anSta the mind for the stem and earnest
Unties of life. Tbe lute for comic litentcn, greatly fostered by that notable personage,
"Fonch," read by the biabop and tbe judge, tbe rector and the dissenting pastor — at least
ao it is reported-'— shoald be kept nnder control. We have "A Comic Hiztlory of England,"
and "A Comie History of Rome;" and (hough tier are well and tmtbfally written in the
plain, yet aa they put, or try to put, every subject in a ludicnms light, they may tndnce a
babit of treating with levity the most solemn and afiecling themes, against tha evil of
wbioh yoa cannot be loo aniiously waned.
A profitable method of reading I will now eodeaToar to present to you. It is a mialaks
to suppose that all books should be read with equal attention and can, on Ibe principle of
Iba JanncT who rvad hia weekly paper through in order, beginning with its title, number,
mad date — working bis way down through adrertiaemenls, l^adinf ai\K\ca, VxA, ^imn<!t
oew^ bba^ mtnitges, and datliu— and never ending till be ajeW QOlk ^ ^tnii\AJ b uxob
314 THE BIGHT USE OF BOOK&
in the last line of the lost colomn of the last page. Lord Bacon has well said on this sub-
ject, " Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and
digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not
curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention." As a gcneiil
rule I would say, strive to understand your author. It is a waste of time to look at a book
and to dream oyer its pages without labouring to comprehend its argument, iltustratioos,
and design. One good book, well mastered, will be of more advantage than a score imper>
fectly read, and of which no definite impression is retained; and yet some peraons are c»-
tent to read extensively without understanding what they read. I have heard of a lacj
who told a wag that she had read " Locke on the Understanding,** and liked it nmch, onlf
she could not tell the meaning of the word idia (idea) which was so often used in it. &
replied, with more of wit than truth — with more of sarcasm than gallantry — *^ It is tbi
feminine of idiot I" Toplady relates an anecdote of a conceited youth, who boasted tkt
he had read Enclid through in a piece of an afternoon. On being asked, " Did you masttf
all the demonstrations, and solve all the problems, as you went on?** he replied, " Demoa-
strations and problems ! I suppose you means the as and the ds, and ones and tw<Hs aod
the pictures of scratches and scrawls. Oh no! I skipt all those. But I did read Eacbi
himself, and found it pleasant reading, too." It is to be feared that many people r»i
grave books as carelessly, and with as little profit.
It is a good plan to read with a pencil or pen at hand, with which to mark the man
valuable or striking passages to which you would recur again ; always supposing it is yoar
own book, and not a borrowed one, with which you are taking this liberty. You will rof
advantage from keeping a common-place book, in which to insert valoable scraps sai
larger pieces from books which you are not likely permanently to possess. Todd*8 ^ Inda
Berum" contains a valaablc and easy method of making an index of subjects on which yn
have read, and to which you may have occasion hereafter to refer. The use of thb appfitf
rather to books within your constant reach than to others. It is worth while to maksa
compendium of some good books. The facts of history, and their dates, thus epitoaiiMl
by your own hand, will prove of great value, by impressing them on your memory^ and hf
being of easy reference, as occasion may require.
Conversing with others on the books we read is an admirable method of deepenii^ otf
own impression of what we have learnt, and of benefiting unostentatiously our feUow-oo.
I avail myself on this point of a brief statement of Bacon, who says, "Beading makccks
full man; conference, a ready man; and writing, an exact man." Gird up your minds ii
the attainment of this threefold excellence. Be at once full, ready, and exact.
You will suffer me to deUdn your attention a few minutes longer, while I speak of fls
pure, the varied, the My pleasure to be derived from reading. It enables us to convene
with the wisest and best of men that ever lived. I remember to have visited the boose if
Southey, the poet-laureate, at Keswick — to have lingered in his library, and to have lookrf
out from his window on the glorious lake and lofty mountains which there presented tbcsh
selves to view, and to have dwelt on the pleasure he derived from his coUecti(»i of hookx;
but he haa so beautifuWy aiiOi g;c8t,\\\\c&Uy described that pleasure in most hKoaaaa^
verse, that I make no apAog^iot twA\Mi%\\.\u^Q>aV<ftajcai%\---
THS INQUIRBB.
815
" If J dayt unongst the dead are paet ;
Around me I behold.
Where'er tbeee casual eyes are cast,
The mighty minds of old ;
My nerer-liuling friends are they,
With whom I oonrerae day by day.
** With them I take delight in weal,
And seek relief in woe ;
And while I understand and feel
How mueh to them I owe.
My eheeks have often be^n bedewed
With tears of tboughtAil gratitude.
" My thoughU are with the dead— with them
I live in long-past years,
Their Tirtues love, their faults condemn.
Partake their hopes and fears ;
And from their treasures seek and find
Instruction with a humble mind."
And sach pleasure and iziBtruction are open to all men who have eyes to read, and hearts
to feel, the contents of books. It is one of the cheapest and purest gratifications within
the reach of men. It soothes the perturbed spirits, buries for a time the pressing cares of
life, and fits the learner for the daily conflict with the world. — [These yalnable remarks,
and those contained in our number for February, under the head of " Books and Reading,"
haTe been extracted from a very interesting lecture delivered by the Ber. George Smith
before the Devonport Young Men's Association, and published by Snow, London.]
€)^ 5^mL
QUESTIONS REQUIRING ANSWERS.
174. Being desirous of studying the history of
the ancient Britons, paiticularly their nslif^ion
and their state before the Roman invasion,
perhaps some of your oorrespondeuts will be
kind enough to give me some iDformation as to
what books would be most suitable, with their
prices. And likewise where I could obtain the
" Cambrian Register," and the*' Cambro Briton,"
^th the prices and the publisher's name. An
vuwer inserted in the British Conlroveraialiat
would be esteemed a very great favour by— T.
»*• w,
176. Will any of your philosophical correspon-
dents be kind enough to give me a clear, aceurate,
find concise statement of " Spinoza's Philosophical
System," and why it was designated as Atheism ?
•—J. J.
176. Ut. Will any of th% readers of the British
yontrovertiafist be so kind as to inform " Solon"
ut what language the Vedas, Shastrrs, and Pou-
'^nnas, or the religious books of the Hindoos, are
written ? 2ud. What works would be the best to
^oire a thorough knowledge of that language,
where may they be purchased, and what is the
publuhing price 7 3rd. What was the language
^i ancient Egypt; can it be acquired now; if so,
by what means ; also what works are necessary
in order to obtain a profound knowledge of the
^'ipon, philosophy, &c., of ** old Egypt "? 4th.
" nich country is considered by competent judges
to have been the seat of civilization, E^ypt or
^naia? 5Uj. in what languaf^e are the mscrip-
"on» of the Nineveh sculptures written, and is it
possible for any one to acquire the ability to de-
c'pher tbcm ; if so, by what means 7
177. I. What is the force of the interrogative
^v ^° V7taiv«ir nivT and give some ilhiatration of
«»»» use ol the particle. 2. In Heb. xl 3ft, why
"oes the apostle Paul use the subjunctive mood
•ri^M^iv, and not the optative r^attv f If any of
your talented correspondents would answer me the
above questions, I should feel greatly indebted to
them.— J. B. M'C.
178. Being desirous of gaining such informa-
tion as will enable me to understand and claasilV
the various species of grass and botanical speci-
mens, I shall be greatly obliged if any friend
would inform me what is the best course I can
adopt to obtain the necessary information. I
should also be very glad to obtain similar infor-
mation with regard to shells, insects, &c. I sin-
cerely thank you for the great assistance I have
derived fhim your valuable publication, for which
I most heartily wbh all possible success. —
Phonoo.
179. Will any of the readers of this periodical
inform me of the best method of studying mathe-
matics 7 I wish to become acquainted with the
science in all its various branches of algebra, Eu-
clid, plane and spherical trigonometry, aiflerential
and inu^ftral calculus, &c. &c. I should like to
know the order in which I should commence
each particular division, and the best work or
works on each of such divisions. Should phvsics
be studied in connexion with mathematics? if so,
advice on this head will be required. To what
extent should mathematical stucfv be pursued, by
one whose sole object is the discipline of the
mind ? A reply to all these queries will be thank-
fully received by— An Eabnest Student.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
135 an4 13ft. A Student's Lihmrif. —It I may
offer any suggestions upon this subject, I would
recommend to " Edward' and "A Law Student"
the following works, in the place of and in addi-
tion to some of those recommended by L. on page
75 : — 5, Kennedy's " Greek Verses of Shrews-
bury School" (8s.); 9 and 10, Bohn's Edition of
316
THE I!IQXnREB«
Butler's •* An«loffy" and " Sermons" (together,
only 3s. 6d.), with Analysis, Life, Notes, and
muoh other valuable matter; 11, Jelf s "Greek
Grammar" (80s,), if not too expensive; 26. The
Cambridge "Greek and EnRlish Testament"
(7s. 6d.) ; 27, Todhunter's " Calculus" (lOs. Od.) ;
4C and 47, These are very expensive works,
together amounting to upwards ol" £1 ; for " Ed-
ward •• and " A Law Student" Smith's " Classical
Dictionary" fl5s.), embracing mythology, biogra-
phy, and geography, and Smith's *< Smaller Diet
Ant" (78. Jid.) will probably suffice; 54, Grote's
" History of Greece" is more valuable, biit very
expensive; Wl. Browne "On the Thirty-niue
Articles" is a much better library book, 2 vols.
(22fl. 6tl,) ; 01. Phiar's " McLhanics ' (10». 0.1.)
To these I would ad<l— 6fi, " History of Greek
Literature' (7s. CWl.), and ** History of Boman
Literature" (10s. Cd.), in the " Encycloinrdia Me-
tropolitana* ; 67, Coxs "Biblical Antiquities"
<7i. (Vl.), in the " Encydopcedia Metropolitan a" ;
68, Pritleaux's " Connexion of the Old and New
Testaments" (19s.); Oi), Wheatley " On the Com-
mon Prayer' (38. 6d.), in Bohn's " Standard
Library"; 70, D'Aubigne's " History of the Re-
formation"; 71, Pearson "On the Creed," edited
by Dr. Burton (10s.); 72, Robinson s " Greek
Lexiconto the New Testament" (IHs.): 73, Eadie's
*• Biblical Cvclopcedia" (lOs. Od.); 74, KiUos
"Bible Lands and Atlas (7s. 6d.), in*Bobn's
** Illustrated Library" ; 7o, Barnes' " Notes on
the New and Old Testaments" ; 70, Maunders
" Treasuries" ; 77, Blackie's " Imperial Diction-
ary" ; 78, Latham's " English l.anguage" : 79,
Johnston's •' Gazetteer" (3os.). or the ** Cabinet
Gazetteer" (IDs. 6d.) ; 80, HusseU's " History of
Modem Europe"; 81, ** The Cabinet Lawyer"
(10s. 6d.) Of these, the most necessary for " Ed-
ward " are Nos. 07 to 75, and for " A Law Student"
Nos.77to81.— J. B. M'C.
139. Arabic Ot'thography and Pronunciation.
— In that amusing storehouse of literary curiosi-
ties, *• The Doctor," by the poet Soutbey, the
following passage occurs at page 170 (edition of
1848) : — " Let roe here, on the com^Hitent autho-
rity of Mi\jor Edward Moore, inform the European
reader who may be ijniorant of Arabic, that the
name of the Arabian false prophet is, in the lan-
guage of his own country, written with four letters
— M.H.M.D. a character called tahdid over the
medial M. denoting that sound to be prolonged,
or doubled ; so that Mahammad would better
tlian any other spelling represent the current ver-
nacular pronunciaiion. " In an interesting work
(published in the " Librar}- of Entertaining Know-
ledffe," and subsequently in Knight's " Shilling
Volumes for all Headers"), written, during a
lengthened residence in l£.vyvt, by a Mr. Lane,
the name (if 1 recollect aright) is given as Mo-
hammad, thus airreeing very nearly witli the
orthoprraphy of Mtyor Moore. I have seen it
stated (I think in Mr. Lane's work) that tlie
word Mamalukcs is derived fn^m an Arabic
word signifying slaves, and should be written
and pronounced in the fonu— J/^iii/ooAs. *' Ho-
mo" will find in Mr. Lane's book, " The Man-
ners and Customs of tlie Modem Egyptians,"
aereral hints as to t\»c orthography and pronun-
oiafjon of Kg}'ptian and Anibw wotA*. — ^V\.S.
J43. Grtfk Ltxlcons and Testament*.— Kxv
"Ifinenuit" mustnnnembeT that tlie c\\*«v»«*^ "^^
not always tlie hchU Uobm»ou% "<ixc«kLft»x-\t\\t<vi
con," publiahrd by Longmans, scans to ik td
combiue greater cheapness and goodness Uiao t::T
other. Bloorafield's is cheaper, but not nearlj -^ •
good: it is published by Longmans. A tcrr
excellent Greek Testament w ** The Caiubri.'.^
Grerk and English Testament," publi&b«d Lr
Parker. It has the great adranta^ of havineu'e
English -version and the Greek m parallel ro.
lumns. If " An Itinerant" requires a rAeaji »m,
with notfg, there is none I can neeomOf^ol
strongly ; Bloomfield's or Barton's (each lOs.^i.)
mnv sulhce.
T^.B. If " An Itinerant" be entirely t^a^raa/ c/
Grcfkt he should learn the rudiments hi umt
small Greek grammar (such as Anthoo's), tai
then get Bagster's " Lexicon," published by Bur-
ster. But this is not so good as Robinson'f.i'
" An Itinerant" possess a knowledge of the Grttk
letters and language — J. B. M'C.
l.W. The Order of Studying the Srimrtt-
Z. A. will derive much advantage f^om the leaMib
of F. J. L., on page 237; but a few words an*
may peiiii^ be allowed, gntce I-\ J, L.et 2.1.
Lot Z. A. first take up SulliTan'A '* En^htt
Grammar," and Colenzo's " Arithmetic," a key«
which ran be procured. When pretty wrU ad-
vanced in these, let him study canrluUv the iaa
part of Sullivan's " Geogrnphy." and then nt:3
the latter part with the study of the History t'tu i
small degree, at any rate) of the several lutioa'.
as they come before him ui the *' Gcographv." I
would recommend Milner's "History ol'Ecf-
land," Whites " History of France ; " and, (or Urf
other countries, Keightley's " Outlines of Hb-
tory." Let him take up (Cassell'a) ** Euclid,' ist
along with it Lunds "Elementxny Algetra.'
When he has studied these well, he cannot JA
with due attention, to make rapid pmgreas is tb«
higher Mathematics. To Z. A., I would strooflf
recommend Colenzo's ** Trigonometry. Part L,'
Phear's " Mechanics," and Pbear's ** HyiinHO-
tics ; " and, as a mathematical companion, <ioi>ft'
win's" Mathematical Problenia" and " K<?y.
The above works are, I believe, the very tat
for Z. A., and are mostly very cht ap ; and tk
order will, in my opinion, greatly assist luia.-
J. B. M'C.
162. Ttco Jmerican Orators. — Chief Jnstict
Marshall was bom in Virginia, in 17^'i. At a
early age he cnga|?ed in the war of iudepcndraci^
and became captain in •1777. Having, hnw«v«r.
resigned his commission, and deroted hiaidr
to the study of the law, be was admitted to i«
bar in 1780, and rose rapidly to great distitwlua:
and in 1801 was appointed Chief Jusiire efttt
United States of America, the duties of vUd
office he discharged with great ability and integrif .
Alexander Hamilton was a distinguished Imt-
riean officer and statesman, bom in l/,'^?. Hi
entered the American army in 177t>,and was as*
a lieutenant-colonel in the following year, fnm
which time he was the constant atiendaat if
'Washington. At the close of the war he rrMthei
to qtialify himself for the bar. In 1789. be
made secretary to the treasury; but was
commander-in-chief of the American Ibites k
1799, when a French invasion was expected.
When the amiy was disbanded, he retumeu to ibe
V%x \ and five years subsequently fell ha a duel, i^
H(\i\\i\k\k«\\^\M^!tk.^\A\!^v(\^cd by Culonei Ban-.
THB TOUirO STITDBirr AKD WRITBB's AaSUTANT.
317
<K!lt ^nmig ^tnlttiit niA ^ribf j %swAul
GRAMMAR CLASS.
Exercite* in Chrammmr. No. XVII.
Junior Division.
Perform ExerciM No. VIII., Vol. III. p. 359.
Senior Dlvition.
Prepare a form like the one given, and arrange
the nomiuativefl, objectiTeii, and yerbs under their
proper heads, afier tlie plan of the example fri^en.
A good bo7, who leanis his lesson, deserves
commendation. Fortune fiivours industrious
men. E verj person has iust as much pride as he
wants sense. We should never despise people
for the want of natural powers, but for the abuse
of them. A good consdence, and a contented
mind, make a roan happy. Philosophy teaches
u» to endure afflictions: Christianity converts
them into blessings. Dissimulation degrades
parts and learning, obscures the lustre of every
accomplishment, and sinks us into universal con-
tempt. Self-ooneeis, presumption, and obstinacy,
blast the prospects of many a yoolh. Old frieods
are preserved, and new ones procured, by a
grateful dispositioD. That (Hend is to be highly
respec4»d whose friendship is chiefly diatinguished
in adversity. Greater virtue is required to bear
good fortune than bad. Among the great blessings
and wonders of creation may be classed the regu-
larity of the seasons. There sat in a window a
young man named Eutychus. Where is George ?
Is^ he at home ? The man who retires to meditate
mischief, and to exasperate his own rage — whose
thoughts are employed only on means of dis-
tress, and contrivances of ruin — whose mind
never passes from tlie remembrance of his own
sufferings, but to indulge some hope of er^oying
the calamities of others, may justly be numbered
among the most rai<«crable of mankind. He who
does the most good has the moMt pleasure. Pm-
dcnce,moderation, and religion,produce true peace
and comfort. Gratitude and thanks are the least
returns which children can make to their parents.
SYNTAX.
RUI.K I. — A vert) must agree with its nominative in number and person ; as, I command ; thou
readest; he writes.
Re LI II.— Active or transitive verbs govern the objeedve ease ; as, I command you; he writes a
letter.
The Nominative and its Adjuncts.
The Verb.
The Objective and its Adjuncts.
A good boy, who leama his lessons,
JTortune
deserves
favours
commendation.
industrious nten.
MODEL EXERCISE No. Y.-^llde Vol. III.
p. 239.
NOUNS.-
-Gendrr.
Bjf Aiffertnt
rermtnaftons.
By the addition of «
BHS." and contractioii.
when necessary.
deacon
deaconess
host
hostess
conductor
conductress
duke
duchess
adulterer
adul tress
aeamster
seamstress
marquis
marchioness
protector
protectress
«mperor
empress
votary
votaress
tutor
tutoress
actor
actress
caterer
cuteress
arbiter
arbitress
governor
governess
director
directress
patron
patroness
chanter
chantress
ambassador
ambassadress
mayor
mavoress
By the addition of "
ix," and contraction,
when n«
T-easary.
By the addition of ** ine," and contraction,
when necessary.
hero
margrave
heroine
margravine
By differmi Corrtlative Words
nephew
niece
lass
king
queen
dog
bitch
carl
countess
roe
horse
mare
lord
Irtdy
colt
flUy
belle
beau
stag
hind
-nizard
wiJch
bull
cow
a m
e^?e
By Prffijcing a Word.
man servant
I maid servant
administrator
executor
administrabix
exeeatrix
LOGIC CLASS.
Junior.^Vide "Art of Reasoning," No. VIII.,
Vol. I. — What does induction mean 7 Why is it
A source or evidence? What does the whole uni-
verse do ? What does Morrell say regarding in-
duction 7 Why has philosophy been always an
object of pursuit 7 What are the necessary pre-
liminaries to induction 7 What i« required to the
318
THB TOUHO BTUDEHT A3fD WRITBR's AB8I8TART.
right ftilfilmeot of these requirements? How
should we proeeed when desiroos of elucidating
the truth regarding any series of phenomena?
After having pre|Mred a natural history, how
•hoold we proceed? What is the meanmg of
latent process, and what of latent schematism ?
Xxplain the doctrine of <iu/afi<i«. Describe the
induetive laws of J. S. MiU. What is Hersohell's
opinion on this sulgect ? Ho w are syllogism and
induction reconcilable?
iVovertior.— Vide Exercise No. VIII., Vol. II.
Senior. — Consdousness, imagination, memory
and association, in their relation to an explana-
tion of monomania, insanity, and idiocy.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— V.
Que$tioH 38. Number of pairss— -r— =s— — s
44
9
E.T.
Question 39. Length of ladders V37'+2«i«b
V1709s4S-0dM0 feet. R. T.
Que$tion 40. By the common rule for discount
we haTc,
As 11S| '.Vik.£37 Ids. Qd. : £4 Ss. llfd.— Jim.
J. M.
Queition 41. First, 134-S56S5 acres =124SA625
square links; then, V1242d625=;)d25 links, the
length required.
Question 42. Since the depth of each tank is
the same, the content of the two must be propor-
tioned to the squares of their diameters. Hence,
1 : 3 : : 12* : 12«x 3, the square of the diameter
of the new tank.
.-. Vr2^^3=12x V3~20-784, &c. feet, the an-
swer required. J. T., Bradford.
Question 43. Area of triangles
53« X V3 2W)9 X 1-7320606 ,„,^ ^^.^ ,
~- = 2 = 1216-3326743.
^ » 1216-3326743
.-. cost of pay«raent=— x — ^^ ^ ^ s
j£139 7s. M.—Ans.
W. C. D.
Qttestion 44. Let x sthe greater number ; and y
sthe less ; then by the question,
(x-y)jr=3y(ar-Hy)-H,
or,*"— X ys3x y+3 y*+l;
complete the square and transpose, and
x*-4xy-H4y* = 7y*-H;
.'. xrs2y± V7y*+I.
Now, as X and y are whole numbers, the ex-
pression 2 y± A/7if*+l represent a whole
number, and consequently V7y*-l-lsa whole
number.
Let V*^= this whole number; __
then ^ y*+\-»/ Zy
or7y«-l-l=3(6)
ory»=-^-
Since — - is a square number and a whole
number as well, it follows thats-^l may be re-
presented by a series of square numbers having a
multiple of 7; thus: —
«-l = l«-h7,or2»x7,or3»x7,
or 4« X 7a7, or 28, or 03, or 1 12, &o.
.'. ;rs8, or 29, or 64, or 113, &e.
The lowest square is M. Snbatitutiiiig this value
iu equation (6), we have,
7y«-l-l=64,
or7y>«63
v»=A3
and xs9 y ± ^7 y*-f 1 =6±8s14 or--S.
The lowest numbers answering the conditions <tf
the question are 14 and 3. W. C. D.
Question 45. Let a, ft, c, be the rides of the
triangle ; A, B, C, the angles aubtendinff them ;
and a the perpendicular. Since the sides of a
triangle are proportional to the sines of the angles
which they respectively subtend,
c sin. B
h : e :: sin. B : sin. C .*. h*
but -. s= sin. A
o
dssbf sin. As
sin C
cKin. B
whence, areas c | ds
sm. C
c* sin. B . sin. A
SUL A
2 . sin. C
.-. log. of area, 6-487445 sd0721 7 linkss
da. Or. lip. K. T.
Question 46. Let xsthe length of the cord ;
then (2 x)* x >785dsi of an acres 1210 yards
.-. «sV/.i||^«V38615406=l&*6«yards»
, J.F.I.
QUESTIONS FOB SOLUTION.— VII.
56. A gentleman, dying, left propeity of tLt
annual value of £2,044 12s. 6d. for the snppon «h
forty men, thirty women, and seventy orphaa
children, to be divided in the following maumer.
via., fur every 4s. applied to the support of eari:
man 2s. Od. is to be applied for the soppon c/
each woman, and Is. 3d. for the support of ea^
child. The trustees desire to know what swn ci
mone^ will be available for the support of ea..3
establishment, provided hospitals b« erected ks
each, without entrenching iqxm thia part ct t^e
property.
57. A gentleman left jC20,000 to be drriJed
among his children inversely as their ages. Kow.
their ages were, in arithmeucal progression, d'.
18, 16, &c., and 2. Required each child's share.
58. Extract the square root of 891744.
50. Two spouts running at the same tone,
which convey 12 and 14 gallons per mimics
respectively, hll a ▼easel in ten minutes. In whs:
time will each spout fill it by itself?
60. There are three whole numbets, which, ii
the first be taken with half the second and ob^
fourth of the third, s 50 ; the seoood, with LaJ
the third and one-fifth of the first, s 64 ; and Kk'
third, with one-half of the first and one^ixth <i
the second, = 75. What are those numbers ?
61. Uiveu two sides (074 and 1,S98 links). asJ
tlie included angle (6O0 20') of a triangle, to bed
the otlier sides and angles.
62. Divide 17 into two such numbers that th*
sum of tbeir squares shall equal 175*5.
63. How many cubic feet of coric, at a S|«edfir
Gravity of 240, would be required to float a tun ci'
iron ai a spt-cific gravity of 7788. in wmtrr *
64. Bow many bulta will a cistern rtmtain
whose height is 8 feet 10 inches; length, 12 n*i
6 inches ; and breadth| 0 fMt 11 inches 7
HOTICB8 OF BOOKS.
319
Mm if 3Jnnk
Poems, By Alexander Smith. London: Bogne,
Fleet4itreet.
No one has more need than the aspirant to poeHc
honours to saj sinoereljr, ''Save me from my
fri«nds." The ii^udioioas praise of fliends is
flv^ttentij as harmfol as the open censure of the
critio. we cannot too much deprecate the habit
of scattering proAise and indisOTiminatins enco-
miums upon those who humbly accept him as
their literary patron, which the Bev. Geoi^ge Gil-
fillsn, of Dundee, has lately so glaringly intro-
duced into our critical literature. In no case ca^
we auppoee this itching after the gratification of a
▼anity—which is ludicrous in a gentleman so well
entitled in many points to praise as the author of
The Bards of Uie Bible"— to have been more
prQudidal than in that of the author of the
poons before us. He has been held up to the
publie view in such terms as are seldom, by other
critics, showered on poets who have earned a
name; expectation has been piqaed, and desire
been set on tiptoe, to welcome the advent of him
whom Gilfillan had announced as " the coming
man," who was to sit iu the temple of Fame iu a
niche beside Bailey and Sidney Tendys. This
was too bad. Mr. Smith had not the opportunities
of self-culture which these men possessed ; neither
did hu position afford him the same excitement
to noetic feeling as theirs. His young years, we
understand, were spent in toil. The advantac^s
of an early and thorough education were not his.
To bring him into comparison with such men was
obviously unfair ; and, even although apparently
geuerons, was ungenerous in the extreme. That
llr. Smith is potentially a poet we unequivocally
assert ; this book will amply prove that ; but that
he is in very actaality so is doubtAil. It seems to
us that he has spent more time in the study of
Bailey, Shelley, Keats, and Longfellow — assigning
them m importance the order herein given— than
in the study of the human heart. Such studies,
as models, may and must aid poetic development ;
but they must not be " all in all his study." He
most, to use his own words,
" Strive for the poet's orown, but ne'er forget
How poor are fancy's blooms to thdughUUl
fruits.;
There is too much of Gilfillan's own style— wild
metaphors, strained similes, huge hyperboles, and
vain attempts at wit and humour — observable iu
the work. We would advise a course of oarefUl
mental training — a series of critical readings of
the classic poets, a closer and more minute study
of the feelings and passions of men — to the author,
as well as keen, clear-eyed criticism, and extensive
pruning of his efforts, before he next ventures to
solicit public favour. There is a luxuriance of
weeds as well as flowers: he must not mistake
the one for the other. The true poetic instinct
dwells within him; let him engage in intellectual
and ssUietic culture, and the world may look for
much from him. We hope for much. When we
consider bis youth, his opportunities, his culture,
what he has done is excellent ; but the injudicious
" heralding" to which he was subjected has raised
on idea r^arding him in the public mind which
these poems will not wholly substantiate. We
know, of course, that " The Life-Drama" appeared
in *' The Critic;" but then it was in snatches ; and
consecutive reading is the test of a poem's power.
Becurrenoe of figures of speeeh, sameness of idea,
barrenness of incident, is not so vividly felt in the
one case as in the other. It has all these faults ;
atoned for, we must say, however, by far greater
beauties— beauties which should recommend it to
every young man desirous of encouraging youth-
ful genius.
We shall not here dwell on the faults of the
poem farther than to point out to the author the
sameness of idea running through the passagea
under the word shore ^ in the following pages, vis.,
25, 38, 62, 73, 90, 111, 115, 120, 128, 161 ,187, 231,
tec. Under the words ship and Anthony other
instances of similarity may be found. We shall
now proceed to indicate some of the beauties:— '
" Here is a portrait in the style of the old dra-
matists.
Ill show yon one who mig^t have been an
abbot
In the old time; a larae and portly man.
With merry eyes, and crown that shines like-
glass.
No thin-smiled April he, bedript with tears,
But appled-Autumn, golden-cheeked and tan ;
A jest m his mouth feels sweet as crusted wine.
As if ail eager for a merry thought.
The pits of laughter dimple iu his cheeks.
His speech is flavorous ; evermore he talks
Iu a warm, brown, autumnal sort of style.
A worthy man, sir, who shall stand at compt
With conscience white, save a few drops of
wine."— P. 116.
Who can faU to admire fAisf—
" Yet more I love
Than this ; the shrinking day, that sometimes
oomn
In Winter's Aront, so fldr 'mong its dark peers^
It seems a straggler from the files of June,
Which in its wanderings had lost its wits.
And half its beauty ; and, when it returned,
Finding its old companions gone away,
It joined November's troop, then marching
past;
And so the frail thing comes, and greets the
world
With a thin, crazy smile, then bursts in tears.
And all the while it holds within its hand
A few half-withered flowers."— P. 112.
Here, too, are strong words, fittingly bodying
forth a mighty moral truth : —
" My soul breeds sins as a dead body worms.
They swarm and feed upon me. Hear me, God I
Sin met me aud embraced uie on my way ;
Methought her cheeks were red, her lips had
bloom :
I kissed her bold lips— dallied with her hair; —
She sang me into slumber. I awoke.
It was a putrid corse that clung to me.
That cUnffs to me, like memory to the damned^
And ruts into my being. * • • •
I soon will grow as corrupt as itself."— P. 170.
mOod,
luh»d"[iBP»rtlII. lher-.„ , ,..
10 the autJKt iitnalcJ upon, and a fnrnj.^t
roKineincidcnWof'tairtlillnul*' ■rfKi"",
Pan IV.Itoreuinrdwith ■ dttniMiiim of tbr
' piwUeal 4<u>iiDB," WhM » to b<d«K7 '
S'riiUrTrmcU. BrIbeKrv, J. H. Hiniiv.)
Ijwdont Houlnrinuit Slnnnnan.
Mr. a. J. Holfoatr KtfmlrA in kit ihm ITi
^y^wt^n5,C^/sm> London: Huuliicm
A uuef D vbum «olM jftvud liUll«-dav Im Irfb In uf tti not
VtikitipdomiflaiMl 1 vI'Idw; nbilr OieHUn^ oribrdikcu
Tliy buidiDaidqiii,amtaiidiuj!l>ack in awe. can have imoltjrcdDD \n dra* al1(-nli'<n v- f*^
Thai CTOMBd Ui™boiora'of a k.ne^' lata "f "i* P'™*'' oT "^T impinfaJ inqiiliW.
AUiuiuaiidymnaffj. -P^m JmtMltAaa: Uanehnur: J. fl-y««*
TWlmn .11 IK not .i.ll.f.11. n™.!.!. loul, ^iJUl'^X'^Wtoirin '"^'"/^"l lITi'lJS
f/r'airk^u'-l"!'— 'ivTw™ Uena.pbert, \\\t EaMcm, Kurotw. EbiIbI,
ravkn lliU m ha<B teen quo«i»B beautirt T^r irhi5" may be liad'^i^nc :*"™ '
bntlliml.«ioo|iaiinitlopromhalMf.Soiilh TaUt T>in\*a ami TahU Talkita. Lcodf:
....II. .n»i.rbr.tntE.iiI.B«T.»iuniaAn Htnry Viwullj,
L^^kof *• 10 ™*li« * V'^T ^'™">J*'*^pl»"«^ runaHi, bur ■-:■
Dmit ]il«uuR In aimthiK our fin
inalileuftilfllbiiTouihi inwnr
dFiiT«elati<iu It al all lirafa a |Hd
tli^ nodn of OUT n
nrr piifllnR wat lilialj la do blm. We imten
^laiiKl U>B baudllnK vt innii Odm inmiT an
mliliratioo br onr a>ii "IiiiV, regtrdim orihe
\F^*xry wbleli mar ^ done Iherebr. When a man
eoiiieB Wrbre tlif public fbrjud|{mcnljcl hhn Ibeti
be tried br the lav> oT a niiei'oiu and enlifib'nKd
crilirtnni. So not lei Ihe bcnld tnimprl ehoul
ben It un aaln. ' We
Dur hiula liuilr, ai
tbtry an hindtj rai
II" •hall^oDjraardinlii
Aod praiiplc witb Uie ijui^
And wring iWiiu lUem Uiei
01 our|Hopriei]'"b|rthe]inil«Hddimi<(lV
I' IbrceBi aiid tJic manircatatuHi of ivcalt lur^
sea, 1 he moat reaeD^ and oenalnlr Ibr iMt
oniibiiiK. uuDpla of Ibia kind ia u b> ijmi
mnuetiun wiUi table IDraiuii vai table talbtaf.
at a uukabee of penoni by ruMtinfi llie^Mhd
ind a table, and appareully bj merelv pl^iiv
Ir handi upoa It >o aa u runu a drrlc'ltbc LA
Rr oftkc riiibt band of one tmiinf ou tkr litllr
ierortlir lellbaDdorhiiuitEhbiiurl.nni^v-
It, !<« waliiufr a •uScienl tiiur, nuse ibe laUi
vn>\ot iu any dlrecti«i Ihry may oUI k.^
- ei b-yond
By Hen
»pby of Ibe fact bai yet 1
ly lUe, enablubtd.
VHiiwIH and (*r /VIpil ; a rrpfv 'o « Sff«"
« rfc-'iifr.-d (•*<««■(.., V MW/..,i»-
Altbouitb tbiB innipblet le plim in the •■«
lonymoutly, the Hfle and ront-im ««• "
LIbonhiu upon thr vritrr oT tfae firutral BJtirit
I "Welling" in our June nqnbir. BaiW
imortbatwtiele.ltli&i'oihn-viHieontBiBiK.
It proreuedty di>r», ■* ataitiinp fbrta ivLiliif »
> bin irv. witli mnaHu on Napoleon ibr nH
id Ibr panic cjy. the mlHiia. the ehoirh ■i'
fjrjf lomi lu ]frFurcviwr ; Din. i\ H.Hfonww. ir." wco-inliaJlyreoaimiimdilapenivellof
tD'fn' h»'arI-AiehpninK and naSn-fitfV^n^ \tiTbVk^ t^m.uA^raj&iibat U «kl1 ba^a a aale lafr
]k<ccbcr Ktowe. London : ClBjbe,
Tiii« volume will b« Bouxfat (or with wiilily by
Uk rtadera of " tincle /omB Cabin,- aa it pia-
•A to a namitiYI ol tke Iv.cii^wVs '■^'"'
W w ^V^^^T-tiTWttflW..
*3_.
jRjlBtorir.
BY THE AXTTHOR OF "tHE ABT OP aEASONINO.**
No. XXL— THE LUDICROUS; WIT AND HUMOUPw
It is not our intention to open the present paper with a pleasant prelnsivc invocation,
each as that which forms the introdactorj lines of '* The Ballade of Adam Belle," viz. :~-
" Now lyihe and lysten, gentj'lmen.
That of royrth lovelh to hear ;"
neither do we purpose troubling our good friend, Mr. Extract, with manj requests to
favour us with the loan of a few of those thoughts and " sayings so fantastical which he
has " set in a uote-book, learned and conned hj rote," and which ho so kindlr imparts — at
a small charge — to those small wits who, when invited to dine with Peregrine Portly, Esq.,
under the idea that
" Tliey shoold pay for each glass with a pun if they're able,**
pour forth,
" Through the fiinnel of noses
Lengthened down into proboscii,"
torrents of verbiage out of their ^excerptaP under the denomination of ''sparkling effer-
Tescences of genius," or other et ceteraa of superlative and hyperbolical extravagance,
though they are at best but " musty, fusty, worn-out" quillets, which, through frequency
of repetition, have become "stale, flat, and unprofi table." Such players and we aa*,
Inckily, no friends. We regard wit as
" Words
That leave upon the still suxceptire sense
A messas^e undelivered, till the mind
Awakes to apprehentiveness and takes it."
Those who retail witticisms frequently forget that the capacity of receiving and per-
ceiving must be possessed by the party addressed, while the power of presenting ideas in
ludicrous juxtaposition, and giving them utterance with gravity and solemnity of visa.ee,
is a necessary prerequisite of him who would be thought a wit. From the neglect of this
ahnost self-evident proposition it often happens that the best jokes, in these reciters' hands,
£ul, and many of those parties feci inclined to exclaim in high dudgeon,
" This is true wit, and whoso likes it not,
Is blockhead, coxcomb, puppy, fool, or sot."
We intend to inquire into the rationale of the Ludicrous, and to discover the necessary
demcDta in Wit and Ilumour. Few topics seem to be less \md«t«.'twA^ »& ^^n^ w^ tev^t^
dJJBca/t of explanation. Wit is the subtile essence of the uvV^WqcI \.\]kft avom<\ q1 >^^!«i \svv»^.*,
2c
322 RHKTORIC. ^O. XXI.
hence it is that with its original utteraDce it loses, in a great measure, its freshness
and piqnancy, its liveliness and force* —
" Like some fair flower the earljr uprisK supplies.
Thai guily bloomit ; but e'eu in bloomiug dies."
The ludicrous is the essential element in wit and in humour, and hence it is 6ttlng that
an analysis of these fomis of thought bhould he initiated by gaining a proper conception of
what is meant by this term.
" Where'er the power of ridicule displays
Her qnaint-eyeJ visage, some incongruous forms.
Some stubborn dissonance of tilings combined
Sbikt-s on tb« quick obsenner."
This ** incongTuons dissonance** is called the ludicrous: let us endeavour to acquire a dear
idea of what is implied therein. When we think or reason, we in general follow some
mental form, and hare some prior couception of the results which are to con&titute the
sequents of the thought, whether that thought is expressed or understood. Experience
forms the data from which we calculate tihat these sequ«'^nces may most probabljr be.
This habit of preconstructing ideals of, and bestowing formal coherencj, uniformity, and
consecutiveness on, the future, in accordance with onr prior experience, is ofdinarilj
legitimated and justified by events; but occasionally thoughts, words, or events, as the
case may be, receive an unexpected jerk, which destroys the continuity and congruenty
which we anticipated ; and when that invdves no s«rioas ooonterbalancing drawback, or
produces no antagonistic emotion, the seeming playful, sportive, wayward gamesomeness
livelily impresses the mind, and produces a feeling of mirthfulness and gaietj. The
ordinary sequences of thought, in ourselves even, when suddenly interrupted in their
course, and led to turn, consciously or unconsciously, to the consideration of some nev
thought, somewhat distantly related, produces a smile. When this incongruity of thought,
either in ourselves or others, becomes expressed in words, it gains, by objectivicatioE^
greater prominency in our mind, and hence more readily causes mirth or langhter,- so
also, when in external events the sequence of expectation is suddenly and cuTion!<:y
snapped, we feel disposed to enjoy the mistake, unless some higher feeling be excited by
the circumstance, in merriness and glee. Here, from Kichter, is a passage exemplifying
the ludicrous in thought. Speaking of our universal father, Adam, he says: —
"Just consider; here in this man and protoplast lie side by side, without quamlling, all ihe
faculties and the whole race of man — all the philotfophie schools, sewing schools, and spinatt^
schools ; the be«t and most ancient princely houses, though not yet cleanly picked oat from Hit
common ships' companies ; the whole free imperial order of knighthood, though ttill packed «ip with
their vassals, cotden, aad tenantry ; eonrenta of niuu botmd op with eoaveuts of monk*; teeraeks
and county ^l^Dties; not to mention the ecclesiastical chapters, provoals, deacons, priors, sab>|inorSy
and canons."
* It may not be amiss here to exemplify, by reference to Pope's ** Essay on Cridclsm." the latitude
with which the word wit (from Saxon uritan, to know) may be, or at least has been, employad, via. : —
1st. Intellectual ability, ». e., knowing faculties, e. g.^ lines 63,01.— 2nd. Men of talent, especially
poets, e.g., lines 36,45, 169,517.— 3nL Poetic genimt; and, 4th, Its result, poeUj, «.^.» liotea 8i».
302, 652.-— 5th. Judgment, e. ^., line 259.— 6ih. Conceits, fioriJneas, aad redundancy of figarat«
expression, e. g., lines 292, 303.— 7th. The unexpected and ludicrous association of ideas— Ihe
meaning of the term—*, y., lines 4:i, 447, 449, 4'J4— 507.
RHBTORIC. — 5IO. XXI. 323
Here, from Doaglas Jerrold'a ** Sketches of the English" (** The Linendraper's AMistant"),
is a specimen of the ladicroos in expression, which bears within it truth, though sarcasti-
callj told, more valuable than ''appbs of gold:*' —
*' Can Cato measure musliu? Can Aristides put in a bad orticle, and swear it to be first-rate?
Why should a man whose doom is to tear calieoes attend a lecture on the solar system ? What has
' The Qiuirterly Review' to do with 'lawn as white as driven snowf What is there in eommon
between ginghams and geometry ? VfhiU ia the ttAiiy of AIuUhuM €aifi/a»hioHable checks f . , .
Cannot the assistant sweat under the gas without yearning to haunt \hti Mechanics' Institution, to
learn the nature of the vapour which poisons him t Does he pant to die insuucted? Can he not
pledge his honour, iu consideration of his wages, without tnischitv^vsli/ Iti'juii iny into the moral
responsibilities of ciiilized man /"
The ludicrous in action will be found exquisitely described in Leigh Hunts "Com-
panion," Essay IX., " On the Graces and Anxieties of Pig-Driving," a lew fcentences from
which we subjoin: —
" We beheld a man once inducting a pig into the other end uf Long-lane, SmitLfield. ... A
gravity came upon him as he steered his touchy convoy iiiio this Lid last tLuruughiare. A dug
moved him into a little agitation, darting along; btit he resumed h\s course. . . . The pig still
required eare. It was evidently a pig with all the peculiar turn of mind of his species ; a fellow
that would not move faster than he could help ; irritable, retrospective, picki/iy ubjeotions, and
prune to boggle ; with a tendency to take every path but the proper one, and wi:h a sid«luug tact for
alleys. He bolts ! He's off ! Ecatit ! Erupit ! *Oh,C 1!' exclaimed tUe man, doshitig his
hand against his head, lifting his knee in an agony, and screaming with all the weigiit of a prophecy,
which the spectators felt to be too true, ' He'll go up 9ll manner of streets f "
The above extracts are not themselves ludicrous, but contain illustrations of what would
be ludicrous if it occurred in our evcry-day thoughts, words, or actions; the literary expo-
sition of the *' ludicrous side of life" constitutes Humour.* The ludicrous may, in itself,
be defined as the accidental occurrence of dissonant, unexpected, incongruous contrasts
aiid combinations, suflBcient to excite the mind vivaciously, though not seriously. When
this is the product of afifectalion — the unsuccess resulting from overstraining to 'attempt
that for which the perscn is evidently incapable — it gets mingled with a feeling of con-
tempt, and is denominated The Ridiculous ; but when it is the result of deliberate aim
and intention; when there is shown in it a consciousness of pow^r; when skill is exhibited
in so placing words, thoughts, things, or actions, that they appear ludicrous, Ilumour is
tlio appropriate designation. Hence originates Comic Literature.
Humour denotes quick, ready, and delicate tact in observing incon^btencies between
character and profession, position and power, station and capacity, the ideal and the real,
* It may, perhaps, be as well lo state here the chief works, or portions of worits, consuhed or read
prior to writing the present paper, viz.: — Aristotle's ** Rhetoric" and ** Poetic"; Quintilliaa'a ''In-
■titutet of Eloquence," book vL chap, iii.; Barrow's Works, Sermon XIV.; Locke's '* Essay,"
book ii. chap, x.; Addison's "Spectator," No. LXII. ; Hobbes* "Treatise on Human Nature,"
diap. iz.; CampbelFs ** Philosophy of Rhetoric ;" Kaimes* " Elements of Criticism;" Hunt's **Wit
and HmBOor ;" Hazlitt's ** Lectures on the English Comic Poets ;" Beattie's ** Essay on Laughter and
Lvdierims Conipositkm ;" Samuel Bailey's '* Diseourses on Various Sobjeeta," IX., " On the Theory
of Wit;" Sidney Smith's ** Moral PhUotophy;" Whipple's '^Lmiuks on Lturature and Life;"
Priestley <* On Oratory and Criticism, ' Part III. ebap. xxiv.; Brown's "Lectures" LVU.-, ^^^Lk^I
wbidb lee ftyr a eompleter Btndr of the subject We feel much \ucVvue«!L Vo a\KAo^« Vn -uiciX-QMdiSack^
M better ate oftbem.
324 RHETORIC. — irO. XXI.
&c. ; incongruities between circumstance and expectation, apparent and real charMter, um
and abilitj, intention and execution, &c.; contrasts between prepossessions, presuppo-
sitions, preparations, &c., and their varions results; and the capacity of giving Tirid
embodiment to these irrelations and disparities by imitation and description — the mimetic
representation of how much fancy's witchcraft in the brain belies the realities which impresi
" the intellectual eye," and often
** Thus sages win us to their truth ;*'
for cannot many of us say,
" Thy words do find me out, and parallels bring ;
And in another make me understood T'
Humour, however, is not a mocking goblin, wearing on its face " the sneer <^ sens;:tl
scorn,** but a genial, merrjr-hearted, kindly, loving companion, who delights to go about
" expanding caution, relaxing dignity, unfreezing coldness — teaching age, and care, and pain
to smile — extorting reluctant gleams of pleasure from melancholy, and charming even tue
pangs of grief.** He is not Mephistophilic, but a sort of compound of Puck and Ariel
He is "merry and wise;" not misanthropical, and given to the utterance of shallow oraca-
larities. Capriciously imaginative and fantastic, he is intellectual withal, and handsouieir
benevolent.
** Though he be blunt, I know him passing wi^e;
Though he be merrj, yet withal he's hone&t."
We meet him; he takes us by the hand jatmtily and jollllj —
*' Mild in his mien as fits an honoured friend" —
looks earnestly in our face, perhaps bursts out into a very thunder-clap of laughter; tfcffl,
kindlily holding our hand the while, he invites us to walk with him a little space; \^
genial eye twinkles with mirth ; we consent, and proceed.
" The pits of laughter dimple in his cheeks ;
His speeuh is flavorous ; evermore he talks '
In a warm, brown, autumnal sort of style."
"We have been listening with delighted ears to his discourse, and now we find that aU tsf
'while he has been holding up a mirror to ourselves, and has gently and patiently be«:
pointing out our personal defects, the extravagance of our aims, the absurdity of <rj
hopes, the disproportionateness of our mental and moral physiognoniy. We cannot der;
the likeness, resist the implied admonition, or feel offended by the freedom; nay, raUie:.
we laugh at our own folly, grieve at our want of real self-knowledge, resolve to add s:
least one virtue to our character — amendment; and, suddenly raising our head to saj iw,
we find our good tutor has vanished to thin air, and we standing at the base of the staiia
of Minerva, the goddess of wisdom.
Sometimes humour is exhibited in the mere exemplification of the ludicrous — amns:::;
peculiarities of manner or grotesqueness arising from accidental circumstances — and tlai
cither by delineation with the pencil or graver, verbal description, or dramatic represecta-
tion. Sometimes fantastical reasoning upon serious subjects, or an appearance of teriooi-
ness in treating of trifles, mdicaU« tVva.t capricious indulgence of good-natured fiuicy ar.i
vo/antary singularity of \ina^iia\.\oTi, vjVx^ ^i«K&>\VQXfc ^^ \>?Msvs«Qua, A Burlesque U
the adoption of u low p\itaBeo\o^7 mv^ «^1^^ ol\^>^\t^>:\^\i. ^&Sis.^x^^^
RHETORIC. — HO. XXT. 325
Ideas, when we wish to refute or discourage them. The Mock-Heroic consbts in treating
tririub'ties with all the apparent gravitj and pomp which is due to noble and worthy
topics. Parody is a species of the mock-heroic, and consists in closely retaining the style
of the original, substituting mean, vulgar, and commonplace ideas for grave and imposing
ones. Humour, then, we may regard as the intentional exhibition of the Ludicrous, either
by words, actions, painting, or other signs, when that exhibition is made with the design
of conducing to reformation and improvement, or, at least, when free from malice or ill
nature. You will observe from this definition that we regard an essential characteristic of
humour, as belonging to the moral region of the mind. We believe that no instance of
indisputable humour can be quoted which violates the above definition. ' Fun, frolic,
drollery, waggery, badinage, buffoonery, joviality, practical jokes, and junketting there
may be, but not humour, although, under certain circumstances, all these may become
impregnated with The Humorous. In some cases, too, wit itself may border upon humour
so closely that there may be great difficulty in discriminating between them; but, even
independent of this, we believe that one great differentiating feature between wit and
hnniour will be found to be a moral one. This, however, will more clearly appear in the
following paragraphs on Wit.
Wit is a peculiar exercise of the faculties of the intellect, the emotional nature, and the
imaginative powers. Intellect furnishes the clear conception, the minute knowledge of
remote relations, and the ready perception of the suggested analogy. Imagination supplies
the analogy, and gives the requisite unexpected jerk or quirk to the thought* The Emo-
tions contribute the necessary feelings, and then the intellect fixes upon the most suitable
expression. We believe that, in all coses, wit is ill-natured, reckless, mischievous, and
malicious. Hence it is that Tlie Wit is always dreaded, even when most admired; fear
mingles with the veneration just as a feeling of startled awe combines with our admiration
of the beauty of an eruptive lightning flash. There has, hitherto, been no very clear line
of demarcation drawn between wit and humour, and herein, as we suppose, will the most
tenable differentiation be found. The gaiety, admiration, surprise, and vivacity which it
occasions, are also educed by humorous exhibitions, and there seems no peculiar distinc-
tion yet settled upon between these. In this moral difference, viz., that humour has a
fellow-feeling for our infirmities, but wit assumes a superiority to them, we think there
lies a potential method of discrimination. We can, of course, only suggest this solution of
the difficulty, not force it into acceptance. Should our readers, however, upon mature
consideration, coincide with us, we shall be glad, as by this suggestion we shall have added
deamess to a frequently excited conception.
The wit may defend himself from the accusation contained in the latter clause of the
foregoing paragraphs by saying, with Shakspere*s Mennenius,
** What I think I utter, and spend my malice in my breath."
Or it may even be that the world deserves to be
** Speared with a jest;"
yet why does the honour, self -given, of ringing the world's faults in the world's ears fall
so peculiarly on him whose sympathy vents itself in a cold smile, a sneering oQuntAOBJOiCA^
Mud M piercing ejre?
326 mHsrosic.— xa xxt.
The jecter in Smith's ** Atbdwdd ** esclaimi;, *' What a simpletoa ut tboa to tkink that
a king's jester erer makes a friend ; *t would mar his calling — he eoold not strike on all
h«eds alike! ** and we snFpect it is mndi the same with all wits, and bene* it is that they,
like'critics are " hated, yet caieaeed.**
That intellectual dexterity denooiinated wit we should, then, define as the capacitj of so
adroitlj eomhining ideas, as to prodnce a lively emotion of sarprise at the nnexpectedlj
ingcnioas turn given to the thongfats, and admiration at the readiness with which incon-
sistencies of thought are brought into apparent hannoay, while there larks beneath the
wotds an iiaplied nndercnrrent of ill^intentioo, whioh opecatea as spioe to the qoickfloing
of the relish Nrith which it is receiTed.
Without presFin^; the distinction suggested in the concluding clause of onr dcfinitkn
(art her than wo hare done, let ns proceed to examine whether the three tc^HCS
which' we are at present engaged in considering form a aeries, rising in complexity
and ingenionsnesSf though primarily based on the one perception. The LndieroBS is a
mere perception — the consequence of the incongruity and inconsonance of things or
circnnutances ; Horoour is an intellectmd operation requiring rivid powen of perception,
accuracy of memory, aptitude for imitatire delineation, vigour and buoyancy of imagiiisr
tion, gaiety of manner, and beneyolent feelings, prcMnptiu!; him to obey the injunction of
the poet, "Scorn not the least*"; Wit requires, however, a more finely-edged intdlect,
a more minute perception of resemblances and relations, a more rapid and ready, as weU
as, m general, a more refined imaginatire power combined with greater ingennity, mora
instantaneous and compressed exposition, a keener brerity and subtler nnexpectodneca, as
well as an electrical cpi^ramatiscism — haying the power of at once dashing forth a bright
blaze of light, and darting an abruptly sudden woond. The distinction here drawn mar
be illustrated by reference to the works of Pope, in which '' The Raps of the Look " wiU
represent humour, and ** The Dunciad " wit.
Spoco will not aflfonl room for quotations, but we refer to one or two passages in British
literature, in wliich the same distinction may be obaenred. As examples of the bnmorawv
read Butlers <' Hndtbras,*' King's " Art of Cookeiy," Green's " ^leea," and GoIdsmith^s
'* Retaliation,** in verse; in prose, the following papers from Addison^s " Spectator,** viz.^
<' On the Use of the Fan," No. 102; " The Dissection of a Beaa*s Head,** Xo. 275; ** The
Dissection of a Coquette's Heart," No. 261, are worthy of more than one pemsaL. As
instances of wit, we may mention the satires of Hall, Donno, Dryden, Pope, Swift, Gay.
CburchliiU, and GiObrd; and in prose we may refer to Switt's "Polite Conversatioo,"'
" Tale of a Tub,'' ^:c., nnd " The Letters of Junius.** The literature of the prosent day
famishes two authors, who in their charscteristics seem to lu to difisr exactly in tlus
peculiarity : both hare a keen perception of the Indicfons in life and otrenmstaoca, rare
gifts of cxp'>?it}on and excellent constructive minds — the one, howerer, is a wit, the other
a humorist — Thackeray and Dickens. The synlheus of these may be found in Douglas
Jerrold. " Punch " is dedicated to the development of both wit and humour.
The present paper is intended to be snggestiye only, not completely illustrstiye. We
anticipate, in a future and forthcoming essay in another part of this serial, to devcli^
historically and critically the whole " Theory of WlL'
IS THK BAPTUM OF DIFAXTS IS HABMOST WITH TRB SCRIPTURES ?
837
HrligiflD.
IS THE BAPTISM OF IXFANTS A rRACTICE IN HAFMONT WITH THE
SCBIPTURES ?
NEGATIVE ABTICLE.— III.
Tk a disctission of this nstore it is equally
important to answer those arguments our
opponents may adduce as to hold np to
▼isw our own opinions. We commence, |
therefore, hy showing the fallacy of some of
the reasons which have been hitherto brought
forward. It hss been urged by B. S. that
the baptism of John included children, be>
cause we are told, ** There went oat to him
Jerusalem, and aJl Jadea, and aU the region
round about Jordan." B. S. says, if we deny
that children went, we '* reduce the number
one half, and conyict the erangeliat of gross
^xAj^gci^tion ;** but surely no one will contend
for 80 literal an acceptation of the word
"a//," or we might with the same reason
demand it for the word '*went;^* for infants
could not go, but mnst be taken. But we
are not left to such *' hair-splitting" niceties
as these; for we are tdd, in the very next ;
verse, that they "were all baptized of him
in Jordan, eonfetnng their sins." This
settles the question at once ; for no one will
pretend that infants could ''confess;" and
we never hefore heard it denied that John's
was a baptism of repentance. B. S. says he
"cannot regard it as in any way differing
from the christian ordinance." Surely, then,
he must see there is some ground for making
the "christian ordinance" a baptism of re-
pentance.
" Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations,
baptizing them in the name," &c. B. S.
contends that this verse does not bear any
limit. We do not wish to limit it more than
the words used oblige us to da Teach all
nations. Disciple them. Do not these
words exclude infants? How are we to
teach them? How are we to disciple them?
Tliis comes to, "Who are the Lord's dis-
ciples?*' Surely not those who have had a
few drops of water sprinkled upon them, and
the sign of the cross made by a priest. The
church of Christ is composed of those who
are capable of judging and choosing between
Christ and the world. Every believer and
follower of him will be saved. "If ye do
whatsoever 1 command you, then are ye my
disciples indeed." Are infiints, then, dis-
ciples? If not, you have no authority for
baptizing them, as we are told to " disciple
all nations, baptizing them," && B. S.
seems to think we can draw no eonchision
from the words used by Mark. To us they
seem to embody the text given above. " Go
ye into all the world (all nations), and preach
the gospel to every creature. He that be*
lieveth (is discipled) and is baptized shall
be saved: he that believeth not shall be
damned ." In the nest verse we are told
that signs and wonders shall follow those
that believe and are thus discipled to Christ.
But did children ever cast out devils, heal
the sick, or speak with tongues? No; be-
cause they cannot believe in Christ, and,
consequently, cannot be discipled to him.
However much B. S. may tremble at the
conclusion, children cannot be saved by the
gospel, for that proclaims salvation only to
them that believe. We do not attempt to
say how God may save them. The blood of
Jesus may be sufficient for them ; but, how-
ever much we may deceive ourselves, it is a
fact that Jesus has proclaimed salvation
only through faith ; and children cannot be
partakers of faith. What are the means, if any,
God has not revealed, and we can never know.
Next we are triumphantly asked if among
the three thousand there " were no anxious
mothers who had brought their babes?*'
The sarred historian answers this question a
verse or two after: — "Then they that gladly
received his word were baptized." Could
infants receive the word gladly? I trow
not. The narrative continues : — " They con-
tinued steadfastly in the apostles* doctrine
and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and
in prayers. And fear came upon every soul.
. . . And they had all things common ;
and sold their possessions and goods, and
parted them to all men, as every man had
need. And they, continuing daily with one
328
IS TUB BAPTTSU OF IHFANT8 A PRACTXCB
nccord in the temple, and breaking bread
from bouse to bouse, did eat tbeir meat with
gladness and singleness of heart, praisinp:
God, and having faTonr with all the people."
Now we ask any unprejudiced reader if such
languafre applies to infants? Are they not
incapable of anything recorded of the dis-
ciples? They could not, then, have been
disciples.
Then comes the baptism, by Philip, of the
eunuch ; and here, we are told, there is want
of authority for the verse, ** If thou believest
with all thine heart, thou mayest." Not so
great a lack of authority though, as our
opponents suppose; for I see Griesbach does
uot omit the passage, but gives a slight dif-
ference as occurring in some of the manu-
scripts he had examined, which read, '^If
thou believest with all thine heart, thou shalt
be saved." Now, granting this to be cor-
I'ect; or, since some would like it better,
omit the verse; still the account supports
our views. The eunuch askcA Philip if
anything hindered. Philip said. If thou
believest with all thine heart,
J thou mayest. 7
( thuu bhalt be saved. S
The eunuch expressed his belief in Jesus as
ihe Messiah, and then Philip baptized him.
Which reading do you prefer? Even if you
omit it altogether, you cannot deny that
Philip baptized this eunuch onJ^ on a *' pro-
fession of faith."
The last "stronghold" is the households.
We are defied to prove there were no infants
in them by those who alundd prove there
were. We are at liberty to say there were
not, till some proof is offered. l^Icanwhile
we would remark, that wo are told that one
household believed. Nor is it impossible
that there might have been infants in that
family, and it might be called a believing
family still, for no one could misunderstand
such a statement. If it could be proved
there were infants in the households that
were baptized, wo should say that the in-
fants were omitted because Christ's commis-
sion was to baptize believers: and there
would be no impropriety in calling them
baptized families, because all would limit
the words by the command.
It is A pity to have dragged the fathers
into tinB controversy, but, aa ol\iw& Vvk«%
hiid stress on them, a ?rord Va rev^^ icvvj itfA.
he out of place.
Justyn l^Iartyr tells us of some yeaaa^
sixty or seventy years of a^c, who were
" discipled** to Christ in childhood; whence
it is concluded that infant baptism was
practised in the time of the apostles. Bat
how are people ^' discipled to Christ?" Not
by baptibm, but by iaith. Their faith, thea,
shows that, though still "young persons*
they were not infants.
Clemens Komanus said, "Original sis
affects infants;" and so our opponents hare
said infants should be baptized. But 114
cannot subscribe to tlie opinion that baptism
wa.>hes away sin, or else why need Christ
die? The father himself never drew the
conclusion which om* modem friend:^! hare
arrived at from his words. What could be
more remote from his mind than dedaciag
the practice of paedobaptism from his remarks
on original sin?
Polycarp said, at martyrdom, "Eightr.
six years have I strved Christ, and he nffitt
wronged me." What does this show? — that
Polycarp was baptized when an infant? No;
not a word about baptism. I have served
him eighty-six years. How? By bem|;
** discipled to him," and " continuing in bit
commands." How did he become a disciple?
By faith. This quotation, then, merdj
shows that Polycarp lived to « good old agb
We have heard other things quoted firoD
the fathers; but not till the time of Tertsl-
lian, in the third century, do we find say
unequivocal mention of, or reference to, i&<
fant baptism. Tertullian writes a book
against it, and tells us it was "just tbeo
springing up," along witli several other ia-
novations, such as " anointing previoos t»
baptism," " consecrating the water of bap-
tism," "offering prayers and oblatiuns for
the dead," &c. (Sec. May we judge of it Cnia
the company it keeps?
We have thus, in deference to our o{^
nents' predilections for the fathers, ansum
their arguments from them, as if they really
possessed divine authority ; at the same tioe,
we would express our dissent from any sacb
opinion, our motto being, "The Bible, tlM
whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible."
The Bible, then, teaches us the words d
Christ, "Go ye into all the world, and prescb
the gospel to every creature. He that be>
l\fiveth and is baptized shall be saved."
\ K^«vxv\ — -^'' Qi^ ^\w\ \^*R.\i all nations, bap-
IS HARMONY Vrmi THE 8CRTPTT7RXS ?
329
comnuuid to baptize believers, and as such
aonot ioclude infants. There is neither
•recept nor precedent for the practice. Sup-
tofting we had another command for the
Apt ism of infants, it would not set aside
>eliever-baptism as enjmned in the commis-
»on. ETcn after that ordinance it would
i*e the bounden duty of cvcrj one, on his
conversion, to be baptized, according to the
requirement of Christ, which is, to be bap-
tizefl on being diz^cipled. But the inspired
Tolnme expressly informs us that there is
"but " one baptism" "one Christ," &c., which
**0Qe" must, then, be tliat for which the
command is so plainly seen in Christ's last
" commission" to his disciples.
We have, surely, sufficiently sho\m that
that " commission" must, from its very na-
ture, exclude infants.
There is no mention of the ordinance in
the scriptures which tends to alter this
opinion; on the contrary, everyone seems to
corroborate it; and we think that our oppo-
nents will find great difficulty in reconciling
many passages with their notions, and some
they will find it impossible either to suppress
or explam away.
J. M. P.
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— III.
The will of God is made known to us in
"two different ways : first, by direct precepts
aod plainly stated doctrines; and, secondly,
l>y doctrine^} and precepts implied or under-
stood. And it is manifest to the attentive
'Mder of the Bible that those doctrines and
Precepts upon which our salvation more im-
'itediatcly depends are delivere4 to us in so
plain and ponitive a manner that '' he who
1^8 may read ;" while others, that bear upon
'^as momentous objects, are often so obscure
^at all our reasoning and reflective powers
^e required to comprehend them. Hence
*^e find the orthodox church prizing and
E^fesenring many truths which she has ob-
^ined by inference from the deep mines of
^y writ — jewels which cost more labour to
■^Uicovcr than **the pearl of great price."
^ow much that we believe respecting God,
'^▼eD, the soul, the duties and destinies of
"^ people of God, &c., nmst we reject, and
^c«M to act upon, if wo are to believe only
^liat is plamly declared, and obey only what
ft positively commanded. The Bible is
idapted to the varied powers of the mind,
tl aaTing knowledge requiring scarcely more
han simple intuition, or the understanding of
» child, to comprehend it; while much that
I calculated to edify and comfort us calls
ir the ezerdse of every power which God
as given us. God has no more designed to
istmct us without the aid of our rational
ovvers, than to save us without the consent
r the wUl.
Bsptbm appears to be one of those sub-
icts in which we cannot altogether dispense
ith the reasoning powers; for, although
lis iHe has been mstJtuted by s poeitire
command, yet that command has not been
made to include positive injunctions respect-
ing either the mode of its administration or
its fit and proper subjects. Hence these
particulars, which must be determined before
the ordinance can be brought into practice,
, have to bo sscertained by inference largely
drawn from the whole of the revealed will
of God. The more extensively these in-
ferences are drawn from the Bible, the more
just and scriptural they are likely to be.
Baptists, while they obstinately demand from
us express and po»itive scriptural laws and
precepts in proof of the institution of infant
baptism, are quite as unable as we are to
bring this kind of evidence in support of their
own side of the question. If we cannot pro-
duce a single passage of scripture which
plainly and positively institutes the baptism
of infants, neither can they find a single
passage which plainly and positively excludes
infants from this ordinance, and confines it
to adults; therefore their peculiar doctrines
are, like ours, the result of inference; and if
our inferences — embracing as they do the
whole written word, its spirit as well as its
letter, and its harmony with itself and with
; natural laws — shall be found to be made on
a more extensive scale than those of our
opponents, we anticipate the candid reader,
who seeks for the most scriptural and rea-
sonable view of the subject, will give his
verdict hi our favour.
We propose to consider, in the first place,
from what we may understand of the na-
ture and design of this institution, whether
or not it may and tkould be ai^^Ued \a vdl-
fants; and, 8eooiid\y, 'w\«"OD«t wifv^Vcoft^ \s^
330
IS TRK BAPTim OP IKFAKT8 A PRACTICE
its gtneral tenor, does not bear ub m to tlufl
oonclasioD.
First. Let ns consider the natnre and
deBif|:n of this ordinsnoe, with its appltcsbifitj
to infants.
- Upon the nature and design of haptism
m belioTe we fnWj c<nncide with the Bap-
tists. We frcelj grant that it signifies the
•tate of grace into which the aoni has passed
through a saving faith in Christ; that the
application of water to the bodj represents
4he cleansing of the sonl by the blood of
Christf the washing of regeneration, and the
sanctification of the Spirit; that it is a pledge
of the dedication of the seal to God — a taking
on of the yoke of Christ — ^the beginning of
the profession of godliness, and the seal of
aeeeptance which God has anthorized the
church to set upon those she approres and
receives into her commnnion. Now, if this
he allowed to be the nature and design of
baptism, it is evident, and we would not for
a moment deny, that the adult recipient
must first believe; and that, unless we are
assured that he does believe with all his
heart, we should not baptise him. For, un-
less we first hear his confession of faith, and
see that practical renunciation of sin which
accompanies gennine belief, how can we be
satisfied that he, after a life of alienation
fh>m God, is in that condition which the
ordinance signifies? Hence we find that the
firat subjects of this ordinance, who were
necessarily adnlts, were examined respecting
their faith and conversion before their ad-
mission into the church by baptism. But
how different is the case with infants! They
have no sin to renounce, no conversion to
prove, no profession to make. They are in
that state of acceptance with God into which
the adult sinner passes through repentance,
iaith, and tbe operations of the Spirit. They
are what the believer will be when he stands
befbre God in heaven, among '* the spirits of
just men made perfect;" "for of such is the
kingdom of heaven." They die, and death
transfers them to that kingdom: they are
received to' blessedness by Him who received
and blessed them on esrth. " Csn any for-
bid water, that these should be baptised?"
If they are indubitably Christ's, why with-
hold from them the seal which marka ue for
his own? If they are members of Christ's
invisible chnrch, why refuse them the visible
sign of membership? Why should we thus,
by withholding the baptismal rite, prsctidly
exclude from the chnrch those whom Christ
has indoded in his efanreh vnivenal?
Farther. Christian parents bsre in is-
terest in the baptism of their cfaildm. TIk
Christian, when he becomes a psreBl 9
hmger feels as an individual — no longer kH
as an individnal. His hopes, his fean, Vd
joys and sorrows, are muHiplted with la
children ; he feels and acts towards tbcn ts
if they were parts of himself. And, if pa-
rental solicitude woold lead him to idat^j
their temporal interests with his own, l»r
much more would he natorslly coaceru kb-
self for their heavenly interests? Suitj
his anxiety for his own eternal safelrci!
scarcely outweigh his solicitude fjr th?i!^<
How much his peace depends on his «^
freedom from all doubt respecting their etcm
well-being! And would God allow i iM
on such a subject to invade hit betvelr
peace? Woold He leave him anxiooilftr
ask the tender question, ** ShmM nj iiO
ones die in their infancy, would all ht rk\'-
between them and God ; would they bf f<r!-
low-heira with me of the heavenly kinpi^^
without an answer of peace? No. HehL'
made prevision in His word for every $tsr
of the Christian's experience. Here h« ^
are put to flight, and his snxioos iequ'ii^
answered. He is eoconraged to brin; ^
dear offspring to Christ By fsith he k"
the blessed Kedeemer take them up is ^
arms, put his hands npnn them, aihl \^'
them; hears him say, ** Of such is the li^>-
dom of heaven ;" and, " Except ye beposw '
little children, ye shall in no wise enter is^
the kingdom of heaven;'* ** Their ss«et '
always behold the face of my father wb? •"
in heaven." The God of all eomfort !>i^
given him these assurances that hu bif-
ness, which is bonnd np in that of b'a •'
spring, may be unbroken. Assond, t^
that there is no barrier betwten then *^
the church in heaven, he is sure there cas V
none between them and the chnreh oo eft'
He has, accordingly, a right to expert. &*
he naturally would expect, that the rhr
should be prepared to conflnn and csttKi^
these peaceful assuranoM of the wv^
God; that it should be prepared to nc<^*
by the sppointed sign of reeognitiflo hi-* '-''
fant child, with himself, as sn isntate ts
fellow-roember of the visible chvrek Th^
let ns imagine him, under these faiifR*^^^
m H4BM02IT WITH THF. BCBITTURES ?
331
appearing at th« Uireabold of the chareli,
and d«airing the admissioii of Ub child bj
baptiini. fst «a imagine hia oarprioa and
disappointmeiit when the church, forbidding
the baptism of hia infant, in effect declares
that, though of such ia the kingdom of hea-
ven, Chriat h«8 not povtively eaid, Of ioch
is the church eo earth; that Chriat haa left
00 positire command for the baptism of in-
&nU; and that he moat, therefore, lea^e hia
habe wltboQt the pale of the charchi and
enter himself alone; thna receiving one who,
hiring sinned, haa passed by repentance,
aod the cleansing of the blood of Christ,
iflto a state of acceptance with God, and
rejecting another wbo is already in that state,
and sleeps, nnconscioasly accepted, on the
|)09om of the Redeemer. Is there no plaoe
in the garden of the Ix>rd for these tender
plants, that he most carry them back into
tlie wilderness, to receive their earliest cuU
ture in nnhallowed gioimd? Can he feel
entirely at peace respecting his chUd*s fitness
ior the kingdom of Christ while the chnrch
thos seems to cast a doubt upon it? Thus
is he left painfully vibrating between faith
end doubt — hope and fear. On the one
band is Christ, whose words shall stand
when heaven and earth shall pass away,
leceiving, blessing, and throwing wide the
gates of the kingdom to his infant child;
And on the other hand the church, whose
decisions are ratified in heaven, apparently
ejecting, alienating, and shotting the door
•gainst it. How inconsistent! How ab-
surd! JVnd to whom belongs this inconsis-
tency? To Christ? No; he is infallible.
Then it recoils npon the church.
Secondly. Inferences may be more largely
drawn from the general tenor of scripture in
&voar of infant baptism.
We have endeavoured to show that the
infant children of christian parents have a
rightfol claim to this ordinance, both for
their own and for their parents* sakes. It
now remains for U8 to show that this view
of the subject is in perfect harmony with the
Old and New Testaments, and that God haa
always connected the children with the
parents in his covenants with his people. It
is well known that God*s ancient people
regarded their children as the climax of all
their temporal blessings. Henee this pa-
rental passion became a powerful instrument
in the hands of God for the government of
his. people. When they deputed from his
iia(ys, and became hardened in their frequent
rebellions, to this tender, this rolni»«hle
part of their nature, weie his threatenings
constantly addressed ; and when he thought
to move them to obedience by his '^ great
and precious pramises," these promises were
always extended to their children. And so
*' great" and coaipreheDslve were his pro-
mises, that many of thorn made to his ancient
diurch were to be fulfilled under the new
dispensation, under the reign of the Messiah;
and, however near or remote the period to
which the promises refer, the connexion be-
tween his people and their children— that
covenanted connexion which was originally
sealed to them in the rite of circumcision-
is Qonstantly kept in remembrance. Thus
God, speakmg by the mouth of Jeremiah,
says of the restoration of his people, " Be-
hold, I will gather them out of all countries,
whither I have driven them in mine anger,
and in my fury, and in great wrath; and I
will bring them again unto this place, and I
will cause them to dwell safely: and they
shall be my people, and I will be their God:
and I will give them one heart, and one way,
that they may fear me for ever, for the good
of them, and of their children after them,**
Jer. xxxii. 37 — 39. And again, by the
mouth of Isaiah, in a glowing description of
the Messiah's blesaed reign, he says of his
people, " They diall not labour in vain, nor
bring forth for trouble; for they are the seed
of tl^ blessed of the Lord, and their offspring
with them," Isa. Iv. S3. These passages are
sufficient to show that God had not forgotten
the covenant he made with Abraham, and
which he afterwards confirmed to his children
in the rite of circumcision. And to show
that they referred witliout doubt to the con*
nexion which should still subsist between
parents and children in his covenants of
mercy under the gospel dispensation, we have
the direct authority of Peter:— " Then Peter
said unto them, Repent, and be baptized
every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ
for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive
the gift of the Holy Ghost. For the promise
is unto you, and to your children, and to all
that are afar off, even as many as the Lord
our God shall call," Acts ii. 38, 39. This
connexion was recognised by Christ when he
declared, in the house of Zaccheus, '*Thia
day is salvation come to this house, foras-
much as he also ia a son of Abraham,** Luke
xix. 9. It is still more distinctly recognised.
332
IS THE BAPTISM OF INFAST8 IN HARXOVT WITH THE SCRIFTUBES ?
bj the apostle Paul, who says, *' The
imbelieving hnsband is sanctified hj the
wife, and the onbelieTing wife is sanctified
hj the husband: else were jour children
unclean ; bat now are thej holy/' 1 Cor. rii.
14. And there b good moral demonstra-
tion that the connexion of children with the
parents in the ancient covenant was recog-
nised in the times of the apostles, not only
in words, bat in deeds; for they baptized
households. Upon the reception of the faith
by the head of a family, the whole family
appears to have been baptized. *' And a cer-
tain woman named Lydia, a seller of purple,
of the city of Thyatira, which worshipped
Go<.?, heard us : whose heart the Lord opened,
that she attended unto the things which
were spoken of PaoL And when she was
baptized, and her hoasehold, she besought
us,"&c., Acts xvi. 14, 15. "They said,
Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou
sbalt be saved, and thy house. And they
spake unto him the word of the Lord, and
to all that were in his house. And he took
them the same hour of the night, and washed
their stripes; and was baptized, he and all
his, straightway," Acts xvL 31 — 33. And
St. Paul says, **And I baptized also the
hoasehold of Stephanus," 1 Cor. i. 16. We
bave called this moral demonstration of the
point in question, because these passages
afford evidence, certainly not amounting to
demonstration, but savouring so highly of the
probable that we deem it sufficient to carry
conviction to any unprejudiced mind. We
are not sure that there were infants in these
households; but it would be strange, and
certainly worthy of remark on the part of
our Baptbt opponents, if they all happened
to be without them.
Let it be remembered that it is not upon
this, or upon any particular one of the evi-
dences we have aidduced, that we rest our
argument, but upon the whole taken to-
gether; for though, as we have before said,
we are as unable to bring direct proof in
favonr of infant baptism as Baptists are to
bring direct proof against it; yet, by placing
our inferences together, we form a broad,
snbstantial basis, on which the argument
may safely rest. Any of the stones of a
magnificent structure, taken separately,
would give bnt little idea of the general
plan; but place them together, and their
relation to each other and to the general
plan will at oooe appear. So moat we do
with our arguments for infant baptism. Let
us, then, endeavour to take in at ooe view
the evidences with which reason and revela-
tion have supplied us on this question, and
let their ooavei;ging rays point the way to
the truth.
Althongh infants are declared to be " bars
in sin," and inheritors of its corse; yet :S
appears that these helpless ones, of whoca
millions pass nnconsciooaly into etemitv,
have not been left without a share in tie
benefits of Christ's mediation, or withoat a
place in the universal church of the redeemed.
Christ having received and blessed tbesL
and testified that of sncb is the kingdom H
heaven. Belonging, then, to the invisible
and nniversal chux^, they are, in their <rr^
right, members of the visible chnrcfa, t^
have a claim to the instituted form of ai-
mission. It naturally adds to the sati^«£s^•
tion and happiness of christian pAreots ^
see their children thus received and recce-
nised by the church; their exdosioo is es-
calated to bring doubt and fear npon t^
minds of parents, and it is iropn>bi^>Ie tha:
God woald leave any source of disquiet:^
open, or any source of happiness sealed zr.
His people. These views, which seem to Cj>
to be the first we should natorallj tMke .<
the subject, are borne ont by the geoersJ
tenor of scripture. Here we find that chilcrc
were included with their parents in ti-
blessings and promises of the ancient cot r>
nant, and that they received the sign a:. '
seal of the covenant in their infancv, w>.-t
only eight days old. We find that :h.>
connexion of parents and children in G«.^ >
covenants with his ancient church wms tr^
quently allnded to by the prophets; t>.:
ihey predicted that this connexion sh-ys^
exist under the reign of the Messiah. ^
find, also, that when the chnrch was re^«rv:
and spiritualized under the new dispesss-
tion, there was no intimation of this c.0-
nexion being broken off; on the oontnu-r. v-
find that Peter was instructed bj the Bij
Ghost to remind them that the procnise ««
to them and to their children; that Chr:>
received and blessed their children, and tli.
the apostles baptised their families w-jt
them. In the absence of a special institoxz::
of infant baptism, what further proof need
we that the children of God's people hi.w
that place and those rights nnder the c«v
dispensation which they held luder the o£i?
JBirmmghtmu J. F,
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, HILTON OR SHAKSPERE ?
333
:^l;iln2n)i!jii.
WHICH WAS THE GKEATEST POET, AHLTON OR SHAKSPERE ?
SHAKSPERE.— ARTICLE II.
It appears to baTQ been long since a^^reed
It Sbakspere, Milton, and Banyan are the '
>reseDtative8 of onr Imaginative Litera-
'e. The world has set them high amongst
classics. They each trod in compara-
ely untried paths. Sbakspere, having
xbausted worlds," boldly " imagined new;"
Iton took np *' themes nnattempted yet
prose or nnmerons verse;" while Bnnyan
irlessly drew npon his imagination, and it
v^e him an allegory at once so fall, clear,
d perfect, that no one has had the hardi-
od to touch npon the same subject with
pes of improvement. They appeared in
e midst of eventfnl times, and coeval with
em circumstances transpired favourable to
e development of representative men.
nongst these mnst first be mentioned the
cent Reformation, and the appearance, in a
tise that all might read, of that wonderful
ok, the Bible. To the influence of this
ok Hazlitt ascribes the chief glory of the
izabethan age. And its appearance, thus
ring permanence to our crude tongue, was
propriately marked by an era in the history
letters. The Bible was, indeed, a pre>
rsor. It induced intelligence which, like
«lf, was asserted with freedom and effect
$ eloquence and poetry, its " moving nar-
tives and marvellous history," and, above
, its high-toned philosophy, could not
main unheeded. It was impossible for
e perusal of this production to excite
sympathetic action, or meet with no
sponse. The divine philosophy now intro-
teed pioneered a new and better philosophy
common things; the true poetry and
riking delineations of character in no mean
gree inspired and taught our best poets;
lilo the truth, the claims of the divine
«n the human, and the ideative imagery —
eso unmistakably produced John Bunyan.
Circumstances, therefore, or the 8tat« of
ciety at large, are the elements which
iefly give rise to representative men. If,
en, it be allowed that Sbakspere and Mil-
Q were such, we shall therefrom claim an
inference which will advance the question
one stage towards its termination. For we
shall be in a position to see that practical
superiority was clearly to be expected of
Sbakspere, even on the hypothesis that his
genius was but equal with that of Milton.
The historical epochs in which Sbakspere
and Kilton figured are the data of our
inference. Now we find that Shakspere
appeared immediately after the dawn of that
period whicb found English letters first
established in power and honour. He was
preceded by such men as Spencer, Chaucer,
Green, Marlow. The people generally were
rising above the barbarism of the middle
ages, and were growing intelligent in their
predilections. Ignorance and bigotry would
be satisfied, even if justice did not bum the
" spirit-mediums" of those times. Reforma-
tion opposed corruption; knowledge laughed
at artifice and hypocrisy ; the Bible was open
to all; the art of printing was extensively
employed; the public mind was awakened
and aspiring. There was, thus, an universal,
calm, equilibrious, and earnest '* looking for"
of the true and the beautiful. There was
too much true aspiration to allow of factious
division. It is rare, indeed, that so many
harbingers have ushered in the coming man.
All foretold ''the poet;" the man for *'aU
time." Such was Shakspere! He is incom-
parable, universal, tbousand-souled. There
had been no leading idea, no strongly-marked
division of the nation's habits and belief, no
popular cry nor league — nothing, in fact, of
a tendency to distort, to crib, cabin, or con-
fine his faculties within a narrow or pre-
judiced circle. He had every inducement to
fix his attention on essential principles, and
to eschew the paltry, unworthy crotchets of
vain ignorance, party feeling, or morbid ego-
tism. And Shakspere unmistakably wa^},
as his destinies seem to have decreed, the
unhencUpoet
With Milton it was otherwise. Neither
his opportunities nor powers were like tho>e
of Sbakspere. Or if nature did give him
334
WHICU WAS THE GREATEST POET, HILTON OB SHAK8PBBB ?
Shakspere's poetic power, she gave him other
powers also, while titno denied him the
anspices. Tliis anomaly could not act other-
wise than by neutralizing the mental cle-
menta which f^ive rise to individuaUty of
Milton attempted too many things tojubw
him a fair chance fur anj single triur..'}iL
He gathered tu himself a large aggregate d
worth; and we regret that hi* succe.-s ia
this feat should have led to hut failure iL :L-.
character; and thus we have Milton, ihc f/reat ■ one in question. For his chiirf purpuse, ihf
maity instead of Mihon, the imUchless itoet, chungeless aim of his life, the ouc ohjei: U
It is a law, that no man can excel all \ which he lived, and to which, as a matter df
others in more tlian one pcirticular. This is duty, ho solemnly devoted liimself. «m
evidenced by all history, and in all biography, purely of a moral character. For this bl
It is true that the successful merchant muy ' sacrificed sight, mont-y, and caste. lbs A
be the successful man of letters too; but was an embodiment of high prindples. Br
never has it happened, that the first of mer> daily trod under foot his cherisb«Ki km i
chants has been also the first of literary ' luxuriating in the pleasures of imagiujtM.
men. Nothing short of extremes, it is ob- : Ue fancied Uiat a great work bad folkc ti
vions, will afiect our question. We have | his lot, and he engaged In a life of »ef>
imposed duties. Even his sublime pom vi
written with the laboured efibrt of viadicilii{
the ways of the Cre;ttor to the cmtcL
And thus, throughout his life, this chii*
teristic will be fouud. With him, self fll
things less than of divine origin were tln^
subordinate.
But our question refers to no other rmft-
two rivals; one must gain the prize, the
other lose it. It is a fixed and undeviating
low of our nature, that he who would be
first in one thing must be beneath many in
many things. And thus it was, we contend, \
with Shakspere and Milton. !
There were many better men than Shak-
spere, and many better scholars; but there ;
never was one who more fully embodied the ; ness than that of the poet. We are r.t ti
poet's power. We freely admit that Milton ; determine which was the greatest maS; M
had many merits which Sliakspere had not. which was the greatest poet. Waiving il
But wo deny him the muiit in question. If considerations of utility, however importtft;
Parudite Lost had never been written, he ! of moral intention, however sacred; aal,
would occupy a place scarcely lower in lite- . indeed, of everything extraneous to "tki
ratnre than he now dues. In the absence of poet," we are required to give precedence ti
that poem, his worth as an essayist and a ' to an abstract quality. Now, Shikspc%
patriot would stand out the more conspi- unlike Milton, was, as we bave seen, cid^
cuously. As it is, we hardly know which to sively a poet. Ue is celebrated fur aotkiaf
admire most, his prose or verse. . else. As for Milton, lie stood np, a type i
We .arc actuated by a pure wish to appre- . high courage, in the midst of fierce £utiH|
ciate Milton and Shaksperc thoroughly and
intelligently, and we shall freely admit for
Milton all that his truest friends will claim.
To say that he had great and versatile
genius, that he was the most learned of his
time, a lover of his country who united
before malignant enemies,
" Like a pale martyr in hU shirt ot6s%
defending his faith ; while Shakfpen 0^:11
be found at a common J/ifre, engaged in tkt
intellectual gymnastics of bandying irirti-
capacity with sincerity, is but to give him ' cisms and jotting off extempore epifTifli
niggardly justice. He was infinitely more , Glimpses of the occupation or pavtiai rf
than this. Possessed of the rarest combina- [ poets often affiard not leas €nrioaa than c**
tion of intellectual power, his writings arc ; rect indexes of their true chjtfmcter. Skih-
full of estimable qualities. To him also 1 spere, we thus find, was always trw *
belonged the special merit of employing his i himself. Whether working or idle, he «*
abilities in what he conscientiously believed i the poet; but not so Hilton.
to be the best cause. But mark; it was j But we shidl found Shakspere's clain li
this high moral purpose, this constant aim ' superiority on other groands tkaa tkov
to be engaged iu most \u\\K>rtant work, to i which snbtend the forcing argnuMut; 9^
see nothing worthy oi aeucwa \.Vvq>i^^ va. ^w^^^w^Cwm fear of inooDcliuiffoesa. W
things having no strong Vwim%.tv \tv\««iXV\V*a 'Sc«Mjs^'^>2®M^'^3»Bk^st\«to *'* *^'
that clearly has ecWpscA Vua \Wi\\c Y^^w, \ ^V« '^wi^^.T KB\>a.SJia^ ^^
WHICH WAS TUB OBEATEST POET, MILTON OR SnARSPBRB ?
335
place to the " Bard of Avon," we would not
be understood to eduM a plea for ander-
mting Milton. Our case U this:— "Not
that I lore Ctosar less, bat that I love Rome
more." Nor U Sbakspere preferred because
he is a dramatist, and Milton an epic poet.
We baYe no sympathy with such distinctioQa
as these. No true lover of poetry will attach
much importance to the difference between
having it presented to him by way of dio-
rama, or by way of dramatic action. The
excellence of either mode depends not npon
abstract principles, bat npon genius or
artiatlc power. Virtually, there is no dif-
ference between dramatic and epic poetry.
For what difference can there be, of fonda-
niental principle, in two combinations of
power which produce one and the same
result? There may be a variation of detail ;
one may be more cumplic;ited or less efficient
than the other; but it is contrary to our
experience to believe that there is a radical
antagonism of principles. And thus, although
there is not perfect identity of means, yet it
is evident that the dissimilitude lies entirely
m the arrangement of parts. The didforence
ia one of fbnn, and nothing more.
Bat as a result is the criterion by which
^e judge of means, it follows that the pre-
sent qaestion does not necessitate the discus-
sion of anything connected with the madiinery
which our rivals may employ to effect their
purpose. We have dimply to prove who was
most successful in effect; with the causes of
this we have nothing to do.
The drama, therefore, includes the highest
poetry, because Shakspere has raised it highest
amongst the ibrms in which poets have
learned to mould their intellectual gold.
Leigh Hunt, however, afiBrms that the epic
is undoubtedly the best vehicle ibr poetry,
and his argument is, that it is so, ** because
it includes the drama, with narration besides."
But is not the highttt art that which effects
a given purpose by the use of the simplest
means? None will dispute this premise.
Uow, then, is the epic the most perfect in-
strument, if, to attain a given purpose, it has
to call in a more osmpUcated machinery
than the drama, as it does, by including the
Irama, with somethine else too?
Now, we have seen that a poet's superiority
is wholly independent of the form in which
he may cast his ** things of beauty;" and
:hat his perfection is in propottloQ to the
quantum of a pure intellectual element
which he pours out. This element lias been
designated, " the beauty of truth, the spirit
of imagination, the fire of passion, the inducer
of all purest intellectual delight." The poet,
says Wordsworth, "is a man speaking to
men: a man, it is true, endued with more
lively sensibility, mora enthusiasm and ten-
derness; who has a greater knowledge of
human nature, and a more comprehensive
soul, than are supposed to be common among'
mankind ; a man pleased with his own pas-
sions and volitions, and who rejoices more
than other men in the spirit of life that is in
him; delighting to contemplate similar voli-
tions and passions, as nuuufested in the
goings on of the universe."
Leigh Hunt would have us thus distin-
guish the true from the false poetry :^-
" Wherever truth and beauty, whatever their
amount, can be shaped into verse, and an-
swer to some demand for it in our hearts^
there poetry is to be found, whether in pro-
ductions grand and beautiful as some great
event, or some mighty leafy solitude, or no
bigger and more pretending than a sweet
face or a bunch of violets; whether in Ho->
mer's Epic or Gray*s Elegy, in the enchanted
gardens of Ariosto and Spenser, or the very
pot-herbs of the ' Schoolmistress' of Shen-
stoce, the balms of the simplicity of a cottage*
Not to know and feel this, Is to be deficient
in the universality of Nature herself, who as
a poetess in the smallest, as well as the
largest scale, and who calls upon us to ad-
mire all her productions; not, indeed, with
the same degree of admiratiwi, but with no
refusal of it, eaoept to defect." In addition
to this, he adds Milton's hypothesis. — " Mil-
ton, who has said that Poetry, in comparison
with Science, ' is simple, sensuous, and pas-
sionate.' By simple, he means nnperplezed
and self-evident; by sensuous, genial and
full of imagery; by passionate, excited and
enthusiastic." Shelley's evidence is, Uiat
** Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty
of the world, and makes familiar objects be
as if they were not familiar." Yet more
fully than from anything else may we gather
up an appreciation of the poet from this
sublime revelation of MUton.— <
*' Oh ! I seem to stand
Trembling, where foot of mortal ne'er halh been,
WmppeU in (be radiance of Thy sinlrss hand,
Whioh eye bath never s«en.
336
WHICH WAS THB GREATEST POET, MILTON OB 8HAKSPEBE?
" Visions oome and go —
Shapes of re<iplendent beauty round me throng —
From angel-lips I seem to hear the fiow
Of soft aud holy song.
" In a pnrer clime
My being fills with rapture — waves of thought
Boll in upon my spirit — strains di^'iiie
Break over me unsought.
" Give me now my lyre !
I feel the stirrings of a gift drrine,
Within my bosom glows unearthly fire,
Lit by no skill of mine."
There is bnt one way, therefore, of perceiving
this element, and of measaring it, namely,
by cultivating an expansive and critical
appreciation of the true and beautiful; by
endeavouring to enter cordially into the spirit
of the poet^s pleasures and aspirations; by
trying to see beauty and delightfulness
where he has found them. For the things
in which the poet rejoices are those which
have moved him to ecstacies, and have thus
become to him, in and of themsclres, their own
exceeding great reward. How much mean-
ing, therefore, is there in the truism,
" A thing of beauty is a joy for ever."
This, then, we repeat, is the test for poetry ;
and the application of it is necessarily indi-
vidual, "' Wherever truth and beauty can be
shaped into verse^ and find some response
m our hearts J there is poetry. We have no
other test — can have no other. Poesy is not
distinguishable by anything logical, or by
any key-note. Truth does not make it;
verse does not make it; it is made by an un-
apprehensible combination of these : and this
state never is found where poetry is absent.
All, therefore, that remains is, to establish
Shakspere's identity with that heau-ideal of
**the poet" which may be gathered from
what has already been advanced; and this
will be a summary process. First, then: —
Who shall judge in the matter? ^Vho shall
decide which of the rivals poured out the
most copious stream of that truth and beauty
to which our hearts respond? The decision
does not rest with an individual or a class,
for the poet speaks to all men; he will be
heard when the factions of a time are no
more. The world, consequently, must de-
cide; for it is for tlie world — for all time —
that he writes. He does not address an
age, or a party. " The past, the present,
and the future, are his." He utters the
irrepressible stirrings of a soul which has
seen Nature face to face, and which has
been moved to tears by the eloquence of
dumb things. On affairs that are " familiar
in <mr months as honsehold words,'* h»
dashas an essence which makes them " be as
if they were not familiar." He eschews
everything which has the smutch of xze
upon it, and gathers inspiration from a aoorce
which is far from the fluting and time-
serving, and which is as iDezbaostible as
the Nile itself.
A poet, then (it will be urged), is neT<T
so highly esteemed in his own day as in
after- time I Precisely so. And the sac:e
remark applies to imaginative prose-writer;.
We can find no exceptions. Any one vL^
chooses to review the past will observe t je
fact for himself, and readily assign the cau«e
of it. We are all aware of the backneje.!
theoiy about Dyron's success and Wori>-
worth's oblivion. Byron was the man t>r
the age; Wordsworth was not. WliUe it >
evident that the first is now waning sri
setting, and the last rising. One has hzA
his day; the other's day is at hand. Shak<
spere and MUton stand alike in this respect.
Neither were appreciated by their tonte^i-
poraries. It is notorious that Paradise Lit«t,
though issued by Milton in the height c^ U-
fame, was thought by the publisher t« be c -_
at five pounds ! Sbakspere fared bat little bet-
ter. And although we have no undi^nif . -
accounts of money having been meiitioiie«! . -
connexion with Hamlet, yet we well kc*:'
how lowly bom the " child of natore* v-2>
said to be. Ben Jonson, with all bis |ira-.-<
of Shakspere, was not a tme worship^:
his own learned lore he valued mncb hi^r -
than the *'gift divine.** Looking f«rti ^
on, and noting the advance of the Bar^ •
Avon, until he has become the poet <^ t
world, we see that it was the inteQi^v^t
readers who bore him on and prized h.-
Nbt that he was neglected by tbe emd-'
But it was left for the utilitarian iiioete«c'
century to read and wonder. Tbia Cact •
suggestive; it shows that the voice of nci:-
approbation does not remain with a U
blundering, bookful blockheads, wbo tr/»^-
evory age, but who were, nnfortniiatel j, t:
readers and thinkers of the past.
The question, therefore, is — ^Wbo is bi.--
widely known and read, Shakspere or MHs.-
No statistics are required in rpfdy. \^
have not known it asserted that HlIuxi !« >
generally read as Shakspere. Tbe f^snt .i
wiiirn \\\< ii'.r <;i:i.\ii-r !"' i. \:ii.i«'N < ;: ■iMv-.i::, .' .'■./
Ibr-.iiiiv^iiK'n'. is ivit oiilv L;i^;i>.i— il ..^ ".\ trl.l- .i> lo t.ii; I'/hci;: iui \vi»ii-h iiiu-t ci.'iM' iVoiii
wide. Otli^T nation;} have Kot a'^ide their j a suniiuin^ up of tlio arguiuont. We have
chief poets, and acknowledged Shakspcre — a
foreigner — as supreme. Nothing but the
most imperative justice could give rise to
snch a demonstration as this. It speaks
seen that Shaksperc fell in most propitious
times for eliciting liis power as a poet; but
that Milton, during his whole life, was dis-
tracted hy events which peculiarly unfitted
well for Shakspcre. Btit where is Milton? ■ him fi>r pursuing the poet's avocation. If,
Has not one nation pullol down its gods, th-.-rct'ire, we still hold to Milton, we do so
and pedestalled the Muse who '* rode sub- ' on the assumption that his mental constitu-
lime"? Not one. We, therefore, unhesi- j tion was dillVrent from that of any known
tatingly give our voice for Shakspere. On mau; that he, an intelligent observer of
the grounds here indicated we willinglv rest • human nature and of great men, gathered
hi* superiority. Let it, however, be noted
that this test of being most read is applira-
that glory which the world can give but to
one, without even trying, and without know-
ble, as we have shown, only to authors who i ing it. We must conceive him best versed in
Larc beiMi tried by lime. Many books which the moat recondite of philosophy (for poesy,
are eminently adapted for a particular phase it is s.iid, is the most philosophic of WTiting)
or movement, are perused with avidity for | without wishing so to be, and by having given
Ji time; but they smn sink, by their own j the subject only so much attention as great
gravity, iiito the unknown. Merit and de- i men give to minor things. Wo most suppose,
merit will ultimately assert tiiemselves. | that while he gave his whole time and ener-
Literatnre has always recognised this law. i gics to one pursuit, and his moments of lei-
On it all criticisms turn, and all worth is { sure and relaxation to another, that in these
based. It is the common cmon in letters; I f-natched minutes, and by this fitful atten-
and is emphatically the touf.'hstone of the tion, he did more work thau any one else has
permanent and the genuine. How, then, done in a life of exertion; and more, also,
stands our case when laid on this basis? than he himself did in his serious concen-
Evidently, that Shakspere is the greatest trated years of toil. Milton's superiority as
poet.
We think that there can now be no doubt
a i>oet is, therefore, impossible.
EXCELSIOB.
MILTON.— ARTICLE II.
Poetry is truthful and beautiful imagery power, which abound in the works of the
musically expressed. This imagery may be author of *' Paradise Lost" ? Hence arises
of such a varied character, such different a difficulty in discovering the relative merits
styles, that you cannot compare one jwem of each writer. In comparisons like must
with another. We need only ask the reader be compared with like, philosophy with phi-
to endeavour to compare a short, fanciful, losophy, history with history, fiction with
airy piece, snch as Tennyson's " Lillian," fiction. And we have as much difficulty in
being an address to a young maiden, with comparing the witty and afiecting delineA-
snch a sublime piece as Hamlet's S<diloquy, tions ot human nature with the lofty con-
for him to admit this fact. And much of ceptions of angelic and fiendish natures, as
this difficulty do we experience in comparing we have in comparing a picture that is
the grent ejiic with the great dramatic i)oct; already executed with one that is only com-
the great pourtrayer of ideal with the great mcnced; we have a standard by which to
poartrayer of real life. How different the measure the merits of the former, but those
subjects, how different the styles of the two! ' of the latter exist only in embryo. In like
Where in Milton's writings do we find that ^ manner we have the standanl of our own
nice, that minute delineation of human nature, and of this our world, by which to
nature, which is so pre-eminently the cha- , measure the merits of Shakspere; but in the
xacteristic of Shakspere*s? Or, where in ' conceptions of Milton that standard is often
the works of the Utter author do wo meet ' wanting; for wo do not know the grand
with that sublimity of thought, that gran- beauties, the ecstatic joys of heaven, the
deur of conception, and that soul- elevating dark horrors, the deep-seated despairs of
2d
338
WinCH WAS THE ORKATE9T PORT, XILTO!! OR aUAKSPERB?
hell; the methods of the manifestalion of
the benevolence of divine natures, or the
deep-rooted malevolence of satanic ones. We
are left to judge of the description of these
tbin^ bj our own unaided imMgination.
Truth, then, is the usual standard by which
we judge of the merits of any author, or,
indeed, of anything which appeals either to
our reason or imagination. Is it not the
truthfulness wiih which the object is depic-
ted or delineated that gives the chief charm
to a picture, or to a piece of sculpture? Is
it not the truthfulness of the likeness by
which we judge of the merits of a portrait?
Is it not the truthfulness and sincerity which
pervade convci^ation which make it pleasing
and desirable? And is it not the truthful-
ness of a remark which, when it fulls upon
the soul, causes it to vibrate with pleanure-
ablo emotion? How much pleasure we
receive when we meet with some observation
to the truth of which our own experience
testifies! Tiuth is beautiful, and the most
truthfiil is the most beautiful.
But to return. We have said that the
ircriptions of the things and )Jaees Satan
passes on his way from hell to earth —
** Hangine in a goldeii chain,
Thin pendant world, in bigne&s aa a star
or smallest maguitude." * *
When the gates of hell are opened the
si^ht that presents itself is thus described :—
" Before their eyes in sudden view apprar
The secrets of the hoary drep ; a dsuk,
Illiraitable ocean, i^ithout boami.
Without dimctisiona; where length, breaith,
and height.
And time, and place are lost; tthere eUrsi
Nipht
And Chaos, aneeaton of Nature, hold
Eternal auaruhy, ao.idst the uui&e
Of eudlesft wars, and by CunfuMon stand:
For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dr}',four chaxnpious
fierce.
Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring
Their einbryon atows."
To picture this scene, how much is left to
the imagination; and yet there is sul!ictei)t
thrown out for you to realire somewhat «f
the dark and dismal scene tliat the aotW
had stamped upon the retina of hit nnod's
eye. Again, what lengthened descripdon
standard by which we, in a great measure, can present a more beautiful idea of tfce
value a work is often wanting in the chief ' glory of the Almighty and of the angf!ie
works of Milton, and that we judge of them : host^ than is conveyed by the foUawiiif
by our own unassisted imagination. ** Para-
dise Lost," that noble work, whiih has made
Milton what he is, treats of things unknown:
the scene is sometiuios heaven,, sometimes
hell, sometimes the regions of space: the
actors are Divinity, angels, devils — the
powers of honven and the powers of hell.
How has Milton described these invisible
spiritual beings and place??? and what judg-
ment do we pass upon such description?
He uses language so sublime, that you are
lobt in wonder at the grandeur of the picture
that rises before you, yet the impression
conveyed by the words is not of a very
definite character. There is but here and
there an object in the picture boldly and
skilfully outUned, the lights and shadows
of which you have yourself to fill in. But
it is this very indefiniteness which impresses
the mind with sublimity. To fill up the
picture with words would be to curtail it of
much of its magnificent projwrtions; would
he to bring it down to a lovfl with reason;
for the definite picture then oif(>red to our
view nmst be far leas granA iViaTv \Wt \\i%
soul can shadow forth. Ttee u xtvxxcVv o\
shorr passage : —
** About him all the sanctities of Heavtn
Stood thick as stars, and fh>m his sight rrcrircl
Beatitude pHsl utterance."
How grand a conception is that of Satar^
the arch-enemy of mankind! He is de-
scribed as being of the most gigan!>
stature —
*' He above tlie rest.
In shape and gesture proudly eminmt.
Stood like a tower ; his fonn bad not yet kst
All her original brightness ; " • •
"buthisfkce
Deep scars of thunder had intrenehed, end caiv
Sat on his faded cheek, but under bn>ws
Of dauntlt'<is courage and eonsidenue pride.
Waiting revenge: cmel, his eye bat c&^t
Signs of remorse and passion, to behold
The fellows of bis crime, the followers rallKr.—
Far other once beheld in bIiss,^-eondeiBntrd
For ever now to hare their lol in pain ;
Millions of spirits, for his fkolt lunerred
or Heaven, and (tnm eternal splendours fluM
For bis revolt : yet (kithfUl how they stood, '
Their glory withered ; as when Heaven's fJre
Hath scathed the forest oaks or mountain iAnt<
With singed top their stately growth, ihMgk
bare,
Htauds on the blasted heatti.'*
^ Key , ^V^Nc V \vtV(«^ \agc^ -m% 'VEiianted ts
thU indefiiiitaness7ior' instaiice, in \Vv^ ^^^-^ ^^^ ^'^^^ '«^^'- "^v^^.X-K^t. '«-^^:^>6«^^
WHICH WAS THB GREATEST POET, MILTOX OR SnAKSPEBX ?
dd»
with giant frame firm at a tower; whose
pODderoos shield,
** Ethereal temper, massy, large, auJ round ;"
whose spear,
" To equal wbieh the tallest pine
Hewn in Norwexian hiUa, to be the maat
Of ftome great aumiral, were but a wand ; "
he, with his scarred aiul careworn cheek,
with his daantless conrage, his insatiable
ambitioo, his fell revenge, his fierce and
baming pride; he, the migbtj sjorit, who
thought to overthrow the sovereign King of
heaven, and to vanlt into hia loftj throne —
ie wept. Yeel the arch-enemy of mankind
wept "tears such as angels weep.** Tem-
pestoons potions and mighty emotions stir
his soul, and lead him on to daring, to
destructive, to impious, to cruel deeds; and
yet the sight of so&ring, of degradation,
eaosed by and for him, melted him to soft-
ness and to tears : he had some few dashes
of a gentle nature left in him still. Again
we discover this in him when, beut upon his
<7uel errand of tempting man to rebellion,
he finds Kve in the garden aloue —
** Her heavenly form
Angelic, but more soft and feroiuine.
Her graceful innocence, her every air
Of gesture, or least aetion, overate el
His malice, and with rapine sweet berraved
His fieroencsa of Uie fierce intent it brought."
Again we catch a glimiMC of the nature
which had been his, before rebellion, in his
address to the sun — that magnificent piece
of poetry in the fourth book, commencing at
line 32. ** Wherefore," he is made to ask,
did he war against heaven^s matchless King?
** Ah, wherefore ? He deserved no such return
From me, whom he created what I was
In that bright emiueuce, and with his good
Upbraided none."
Want of space forbids us to quote more
largely, but we would refer our readers to
the address itself, as that which, in our
opinion, stands imrivallcd by anything in
the English language.
It is the character of a human being
endowed with fierce and mighty passions
that is, in the passages above referred to,
and ehjewhere in the poem, so graphically
portrayed; of a being not made up of all
evil, hut with remorse for past offences in
despwate antagonism, m fierce conflict with
pride sod nreog^ vapag him on to further
criL TbejmsaiooB mMy be too Intense, per-
haps, for a poor mortal ; they would shake and
tear his puny frame to pieces. But they are
of the same natuiv; their intensity only is
in proportion to the frame of the gigautie
adversary. It is a sublime picture, and yet
we are not quite satisfied ; we feel there is
too much of humanity in it, corporeally and
spiritually, for the arch-enemy, the fallen
spirit. Milton accomplished all that maa
could do, and yet not even his surpassing
genius could paint spiritual beings in other
than human frames, endowed with human
passions, human sentiments, human instincts,
Iiunian feelings. It is the fault of the
theme, not of the author. And yet what a
theme ! How lofty, how grand, how sublime!
What a daring flight of genius, what a con-
sciousness of power to attempt it I What a
soaring imagination, what a depth of feeling,
what a fund of knowledge, what an acquaint-
ance with the intricacies of the human heart,
what a conception and deep-seated convic-
tion of the wisdom, the power, the mercy of
God, was requisite to accomplish it, and to
accomplish it as A« has done! Yes, we are
lost in wonder and admiration at the glorious
execution of so grand a theme.
And then the language in which (hose
snbllme ideas are clothed. How well it
harmonizes with the lofty character of the
subject! If a stranger to the work were to
meet with a few lines by themselves, we
think he might suule at the apparent
pedantry of the language. But were he to
read the work itself, as he wanned with the
subject, as he became aware of its high
'■ character, he could but admire the taste
, that had clothed it in language of such
simple digmty. Oh! 'tis a noble work, the
production of a gigantic genius, of a pure
' heart. And, whether we will or no, we turn
away from the contemplation of it with an
awe-filled mind, and with souls raised high
above the i*etty strifes and puny Impulses of
this world.
Not so do we always rise from the perusal
, of Shakspere's dramas. Too often, alas! we
! close his pages with passions inflamed ; with
minds filled with the images of a sordid, of
a voluptuous, of a vicious future; with
tonguM vibrating with some ribald jett«
We would especMlly hold up " The Merry
Wives of Windsor" as a work unworthy of
any pahWo teac\iw,m\xs^\«* ^ ^^aasv"^
i The tendency t& SSxa y^v^ ^^ 5»«ft5e«^^ft^•
340 IS THE USE OF OATHS FOR CI\1L PURPOSES RIGHT AKD SXPKDIEXT ?
most evil. The Instfol desires of an old rue
are there alluded to in the roost familiar
manner, and treated as a mere joke. Women,
virtnons women, make themselves merry at
the expense of this old voluptuary; and
after having inflicted upon him a few laugh-
ably inadequate punishments, the play con-
cludes by all the actors in it sitting down
to a feast. Is this the punishment due to
an adulterer? Is it so that woman should
treat the insulter of her modesty? Is it as
Ford treated FalstafT that a husband should
treat the would-be seducer of his wife?
Is this the morality we are to be taught to
imitate? Do not tell us to remember the
age in which Shakspere wrote. Can time
alter the morality of such an act as adultery?
Can time alter the virtue of woman's purity
or woman's constancy? Can time alter the
rebuke due to injured mwlesty? No! and
far other than the morality taught in " The
Merry Wives of Windsor," must be that
taught by him who aspires to be England's
greatest poet.
But let us not be misunderstood. We
acknowledge the genius of the great dramatic
writer. As a delineator of human nature,
as one who speaks to and touches the feel-
ings, as a poetic philosopher, we admit him
to stand unrivalled. We know and have
felt the exquisite beauties, the affecting
truths of
" Sweetest Shakspere, Fancy's child."
We believe nothing can be found in the
English language which speaks with greater
force than the tragedv of " Julins Caesar."
Anthony's oration to the citizens of Rome
is the plerfection of eloquence.
Oh! yes, Shakspere, thoa wert indeed a
great poet, and well mayest thoa be calltni
" divine."
But let not our admiration of the beauties
of his verse close our eyes to its many faults.
Alas! not his most ardent admirer can deny
that we have in too many instances to war>
through whole pages of rubbish, before v^
meet with one truly beantifol and poetic
idea; and that but too many of his plajs
abound in ribaldry and low wit. How paiin
fully this contrasts with the high morsl
tone, the lofty purity, that pervades all the
writings of Milton!
But to conclude. We have expressed t
sense of difficulty in comparing the writinr^
of the two poets under consideration, owin*
to their different styles. The poetry of ear !j
has, in our opinion, reached the standard 1./
perfection. How, then, can we say that the
one is a greater poet than the other? Ft
careful examination. If imagination be the
quality most requisite in a poet; if tba:
quality be the more called into action in
contemplating things not of this world,
rather than the things of this world; in
writing concerning spiritual essences, rather
than corporeal beings ; if sublime, loftv,
dignified, awe-inspiring beauty be of a
higher order than elegant, mirth-insplrinr.
' heart-rending beauty, then, believing, as vc
I do, that the one of each of these two app>-
{ sitions, together with parity, belongs t>
I Mlton and to his poetry, whilst the other,
with, alas! much impurity, belongs to Shak-
spere and his poetry, we must conclude that
the fonner is the more to be admired, is i
greater poet, than the latter.
*tXaXi|0J7C.
Inrial £rnnDnii[.
IS THE USE OF OATHS FOR CIVIL PURPOSES RIGHT AND EXPEDIENT ?
NEGATIVE REPLY.
In bringing this important debate to a
close, we would express our approbation of
the christian spirit, intelligence, and evident
tfaoughtfulness which pervade the articles of
the two J. F.6; while, on the other hand, we
would u nnmistakabiy maniie&l omx xm^^aAr
lified repugnance for the shallowness lui
impotence of C. E.*8, arising from the absecH
of both adequate investigation and thoa«:bt-
fulness. What we thus denounce we shall
proceed briefly to expose. C. £. inqniros
" May not the commandment of oar &iTidnr
18 THS USB OF OATHS FOR CIVIL PURPOSES RIGHT AND SXPEDtEMT ? 341
be constraed in the same maimer?" t. e., to
stiit hb purpose. This qnestion requires
that he who aska it in debate is prepared to
take his position on the original gospel text.
This C. £. does not do, but has resort in his
difficoltj to a strange expedient — to Barnes'
Notes — whose critical acquaintance with the
original text of the New Testament is as
evident as is C. £/b utter incompetence to
sustain his assumed position. The intelli-
gent reader is informed that most Bible com-
mentators entertain this view, ». e., C. £.'s;
and the supreme of this "most" is Barnes!
Now, we are not in the habit of consultiog
tlie volumes of commentators, for it generally
happens that when this is done the inquirer
18 no nearer the true conclusion ; for such is
the state of theology, that theologians, with
their huge tomes, may be named or brought
together to such an extent on the different
sides of most questions, until we find our-
selves surrounded with armies uf divines and
libraries of books. We would tell C. E.,
with all respect to all biblical expositors,
from Dr. Clarke down to Barnes, who is the
last to be mentioned of the host, that to
resort to theological polemics, even on this
subject, is but a very sorry expedient. Fur
the better perception of C. E.'s position, or
qualification of Christ's command, "Swear
not at all," let us examine the Greek text.
The words occur in Matt. v. 34: — M»)
ofioiTai oXiitc. The word oftotrai is used in
the scripture with various <legrees of sig-
nification, the highest being to confirm by
oath a given statement — a religious act.
The same term is used in Ileb. vi. 13, 17 : —
" He sware by himself." The word dfioaai
is used in scripture to denote the taking of
an oath in a religious spirit. But our oppo-
nents direct us to the context, and say that
the meaning, and the extent of the meaning,
is there denoted. This we admit readily;
but that it means the practice of taking
oaths in a frivolous manner merely, we deny
on the same ground. " But let your com-
munication be," it is rendered in our version.
The word "communication' does not express
the meaning of the original word, \6yoQ.
But on this hypothesis do our opponents
build their theory. Every reader is aware
that \6yoQ is a word of great and varied
significance in scripture. In the first chapter
of the Gospel by John it stands for the deity
and hnmanity of Christ; in Acts zv. 15, for
prophecy; in John viii. 55, for precept — v.
38, for testimony ; in Rom. ix. 6, for a pro^
mise; in Matt. xiii. 22, 23, for the gospel;
in other parts for a cause, account, motive
business, argument, controversy, £cc &c
How this word, then, explains the universal
christian axiom, "Swear not at all," we
leave the candid reader to explain pro m.
If it show anything, it is, doubtless, more
than our opponents dare admit. There is
no real authority to limit the word to our
daily transactions, conversation, &c; rather
a manifest licence to apply it to all oar
transactions with mankind in this life.
C. E. says Christ himself did not refuse
to take an oath in a court of law, MatL xxvL
63, 64. So the simple affirmation, " Thoa
hast said," is an oath at length ! This is a
very palpable admission in open- court trans*
actions, by the God-man, that the command,
" Let your communication be, Yea, yea; nay,
nay," extended to courts of justice aUon
Christ's words, " Thou hast said," were not
an oath, but an afiirmation according to his
own precepts. C. £. then asks, " May we
not conclude, in the words of the last article
of the Church of England," &c.I Is C. E.
aware that the book from which he quotes
contains not fewer than 240 contra-
dictions; or has his affection for a corrupt
and falling church so blinded his spiritual
vision that he cannot find them, though he
join the muttering host every seven days
thrice? Verily, such logic and religion are
kin, and without severance, for once. In
our opening article we anticipated and an-
swered C. E.'s second absolute supposition
as to the expediency of oaths, setting the
matter, beyond "doubt," in the region of
actual fact.
We now turn to our friendly opponents'
articles and ar^mcnts, and in doing so
solicit the reader's thoughtful attention.
J. F., of Birmingham, admits that an oath
is a religions act; and, moreover, that none
but "a conscientious m.in can rightly per-
form'* it. How J. F. can affirm this, and
at the same time defend the expediency of
oaths for civil purposes, knowing, as he must
do, that numbers who do take oaths for civil
purposes are, according to his own assertion,
not capable of the act essentially, he does
not explain, neither can we imagine. Ac-
cording to our opponent's arguments on the
expediency of the custom, they amount to
34S M THB USB OF OATHS FOR CIVIL PDBP08E8 BIGHT AKD KXTBOUBST ?
«boat the same thing which we hare eis^
where affirmed to be nothing.
The longer we examine the eobject, the
more firmly are we convinocd that the anti-
christian spirit of a state church is at the
root of the custom, as performed in ctf il
pnrpoees. J. F., of the Jul/ number, wrongly
snppooes that we regard " Uie Bible aa the
depository of two kinds of religion.** This
we do not. The spirit of both Jndiusm and
Christianity is one; but the manifestati<ms
are not. We believe that the " childhood"
of Christiaiiity was Jadaism. But J. F.
does not credit this, because we, in ear
cpening article, affinned that the use of
oaths was in harmony with the religion of
the Jews, and jet not with the spirit of
Christianity. Now J. F. must be aware
that there are many things in Judaism of
the same character, on the very prind]^
which J. F. embodies when he speaks of
Judaism as the childhood of Christianity.
The idea of opposition and superiority he
oonfennda. Just as there are many things
consistent with chUdkood that are not with
mankooA, so there are many things consistent
with Judaism that are not with Christianity;
fi>r instance, the obsenraace of those things
which Paul fortids in Col. ii. 16. So we
think it is with the use of oaths. "Per-
juiT, however, we have reason to believe, is
not so extensively practised as to weaken
materially the value of an oath." Has J. F.
studied the late crisis in Fnnce, and the
bribeiy and corraption of our elections, and
even of the state church? Is he oognissat
of the awful fact that thonssnds do tUs very
thing to became spiritual teasers, tHat
burdens, and often disgimoss, to society?
Has he eoosidend the natue of clerical sd>>
soription, or the words of the Bishop of Nor-
wicb, who dechued in the House of Loids
'*that he never knew a eleigyBiaii wbe
agreed entirely with every article he had
subscribed," which was equal to saying he
never knew a clergyman who had not been
guilty of mental lying. And wberrin does
mental reaervatioa, m the natter of aa oath,
differ from perjury? We, too, have reason
to believe, though not with J. F., that soch
perjury prevails extensivriy in the sodtl
and political branches of society, and that
this has been brought about in part by the
use of oaths. J. F. says, " Christ himself
sanctioned the use of oaths by his own
example," Mark viiL 18. 'A/i^ Xkym vpur
ct doOrifftrai ry yevryf ravng a^iuiovl
reads the original. But "in the erigiaal
there is an ellipsis of some such woids as
these, * May I not live,' or it may be, * So
help me, God.* ** It amounts to this, that
Christ lUtered no oath at all; sim|dy an un-
qualified assertion; but an ellipse is made
out, and that e%>se ii the oath required.
This is an advance on C. £.'s method, but a
very poor expedient in so grave a matter.
What saith the reader? The life of Christ
accords with his own words, " Swear not at
alL"
E.W,&
AFFIBMATI7E REPLY.
E. W. S., the writer of the first negative
article, admits that oaths or appeals *' to the
recognised deities or Deity in the presence
of others" have been common amongst all
civilized nations; and then, after describing
the manner in which the Jews were accus-
tomed to perform the ceremony, he attempts
to prove, under his third division, that the
use of oaths is not in harmony with scrip-
ture and the spirit of Christianity. Will
our friend be good enough carefully to read
the following passage from the nineteenth
chapter of Deuteronomy : — " If a false wit-
ness rise up against any man to testify
against him that which is wrong; then both
the men, between whom the controversy is,
shall stand before the Lord, before the priests
and the judges, which shall be in those days;
and the judges shall make diligent inqui-
sition: and, behold, if the witness be a iabe
witness, and hath testified fidsely sgaust his
brother; then shall ye do unto him, as he
had thought to have done unto his brother:
so shalt thou put the evil away from amoog
you;** and then to refer to the dedaratkm of
our Saviour contained in the fifth chapter of
Matthew, that he did not oome to dcstrpv
the *'law or the pn^ets, but to fulfil it/*
thus asstuing us that he had no design to
abrogate any part of the wwixd law, or to
loose mankind in the least measure from
their duty to God and nuui; bat that he
came to fulfil the law, by yielding a per-
sonal obedience to it, and giving mankind in
IS THE USE OF OATHS FOR CIVIL PURPOSES RIGHT A^CD EXPEDIENT ? ^43
after ages the benefit of hiv example. But
ire ff oald more particularly direct the atten-
two of the impartial reader to the conclusion
of oar friend's article, in which he professes
to be shocked at the immoral tendency of
the use of oaths for civil purposes. And
why? Because, forsooth, a certain lawyer
in Northamptonuhire had a test-book (an
indispensable requisite in a solicitor's office)
which he did not read in the office, and died
from the habitual use of brandy. Our friend
cites this fact as an argument against the
use of oaths, and pathetically bids "the
reader beware how he complies with a custom
which tends in the end to such levity and
thoughtlessness of things eternal and divine.**
Need we abk. What had the brandy to do
with the test-book or the use of oaths? |
Most not the negative side of the question
be a defenceless one indeed, if its supporters
cannot find arguments more to the p Jint than
tbi«?
We now turn to the arguments of E. D.,
the writer of the second negative article, who |
first endeavours to explain the nature of an
oath, and then asserts that oaths must be
unnecessary, " as the obligation to speak the
troth is universal, without limitation as to
person, time, or circumstance; because, as
the Deity takes eqiuil cognizance of all
fatMnan speech and conduct, his estimate of
truth or untruth cannot be varied by sny
ceremonies or circumstances." When E. D.
wrote his article he must have quite for-
gotten the third commandment; that oaths
were sanctioned by God himself; and that,
in the passage in Deuteronomy which we
have before quoted, he commanded that the
same punishment should be inflicted upon
the perjurer as he, by his fidae testimony,
had caused to be inflicted upon Ms innocent
brother. As we are told that God seeth not
AS man seoth, but that he judgeth the very
heart and reins, E. D.'s assertion, that be
takes equal cognizance of ail human actions,
without regard to time or circumstance,
cannot be supported. In the third place, our
friend adduces as an argument against the
use of oaths the frequent enforcement of the
Jaws against perjury; we, on the other hand,
Bit fully prepared to argue that this fact is
a very strong reason why the use of oaths
should be continued ; for if tlie heart of mun
b 80 depraved that even the dread of trans-
portation and ignominy will not prevent him
telling a lie, and solemnly calling upon his
Maker to hear it, ought not the ceremonies
for the taking, and the punishment for the
breaking, of oaths, to be increased rather
than abrogated?
Our friend, in the last place,, argues that
the habitual use of oaths in courts of justic-e
has an evil effect, and that children, and
persons who deny the existence of God, are
not considered as competent witnesses. Is
there anything unreasonable in this? Can
a child call upon and invoke the presence of
the God whose nature and attributes he
cannot understand, or the Atheist upon a
Being whose very existence he denies? The
well-merited rebuke of the bankruptcy com-
missioner upon the Secular Socialist would-
be witness, refeircd to by our friend, has been
too much dwelt upon and approved by the
newspaper press to need any comment here.
£. D., in his second article, in the Jnlj
number, tries very hard, but without success,
to prove that our Saviour did not answer the
high priest upon oath, because the high
priest is only represented as using the adja-
ration by St. Matthew, as though the testi-
mony of one inspired writer to a fact was not
sufficient But here our friend is completely
at fault ; for, if he will turn to the fifty-third
verse of the fourteenth chapter of Mark, and
to the sixty-sixth verse of the twenty-second
chapter of Luke, he will find that our Saviour
was arraigned, and his testimony taken,
according to the Mosaic law as instituted by
God in the above- quoted passage from the
nineteenth chapter of Deuteronomy, in the
presence of the Lordy the eltlers, the priests,
and the judges ; and of course, as a witness,
he would give his evidence in the usual
manner, by calling upon God to witness its
truth; for there cannot be the least doubt
that the Jewish council, with their usual
adherence to forms and ceremonies, would
even then carry out to the very letter the
instructions as to testimony given them in
the wilderness by their great Lawgiver.
In conclusion, we think a better argument
in favour of the use of oaths f)r certain ciyil
purposes, when ordered by the legislature,
cannot be found than the following explana-
tion, given by the Rev. William Burkitt, in
his "Commentary on the New Testament,**
of the thirty-third to the thirty-sixth venes
of the fifth chapter of St Matthew.* — " The
next commandment which our Savioar ex-
344
OUGHT TRAKSPORTATIOK TX> BB ABOUgHBD?
ponods and yindicates is the third, whieh
Teqnires a reverent xutt of God's name. Now
the Pharisees taught that peijary was the
only breach of the commandment, and that
swearing was nothing, if they did not for*
swear themselFes; and that persons were
only obliged* to swear by the name of God in
public courts of justice, but in their ordinary
and common discourse they might swear by
any of the creatures. Now, in opposition to
these wicked principles and practices, Christ
says, * Swear not at all ;* that is, first, swear
not profanely in your ordinary discourse;
secondly, swear not unduly by any of God's
creatures, for that is ascribiug a deity to
them ; and, thirdly, swear not lightly upon
any trifling or frivolous occasions, for oaths
upon small occasions are great sins. So that
an oath is not here forbidden by our Saviour,
but retained; for though light and needless,
common and ordinary, swearing be a great
sin, yet to take an oath, when lawfully
called thereunto, is a christian and necessary
duty. Christ by his prohibition doth not
forbid all assertory or promissory oaths in
matters testimonial, when imposed by the
magistrate, for he himself, when adjured by
the high priest, did answer upon oath." It
is absurd to think that God, who is described
as "not a man, that he should lie; nor the
son of man, that he should repent," would
first ingtitiuU and command the use oC oaths
among his own peooliar people, Uie Jews, *
and even set them tlie tzample by awearing
to Abraham by bimaelf, and then change his
mind and abi^ogate their use altogether. The
very name of God, aa lued when oaths axe
administered in our courts of justice, must
be a great inducement to a true Christian to
speak the troth, and a strong prevoitatiTe
against peijnry being committed by cnren the
most hardened wretch.
We still hope that the time when the use
of oaths for dvil purposes will be abolished
is far, far distant; but the increased facilities
of education, and the rapid advancement of
the noble art of printing, fostered by a free
constitution, have wonderfully extended the
knowledge of the masses of the people ; bet
we are sorry to see that with these improre-
ments there has arisen an nnboanded love of
change, coupled with a hatred of and a desirt
to abrogate the time-bononied institutions of
our country. Though advocates of steady
and proper reform, we fear that many inno>
vators, by changing the laws and altering
the principles of our glorious constitutioo,
would pave tho way for a democracy, which
sooner or later, as in the case of France,
would certainly be changed into an absolute
despotism.
OUGHT TRANSPORTATION TO BE ABOLISHED?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE. -I.
As there is a law in nature to which all
other natural agencies subserve — develop-
ment ; so is there, in civilized society, a law
to which things in general tend — progres-
sion. As in nature the law of development
may not always be manifested, being either
suppressed pro tempore by some opposing
agency, or so slow and gradual in its work-
ings that it is not apparent, except under
continued observation and investigation; so
is it with the great law of progression in
civilization, legislation, education, and reli-
gion. This remark furnishes us with a
stand-point from which we shall consider
this subject in its various aspects and bear-
ings. The evidence of the existence and
progress of this grand law in society may not
appear if we confine our attention to isolstfJ
and limited periods of history; but, if ve
take a widb survey of the hi&toiT of a civil-
ized nation, the evidences become nmncroos
and palpable. In the legislation and adnd-
nistration of the British oonstitntion doriag
the last half century we have a remarkable
instance of this in a comparatively short
period; while, if we take the histoiy of
China, we must study that history for
several centuries back in order to meet with
similar, and even then less palpable, evi-
dence. The desire which pervades the
popular mind, and the manifest tendency «o
the part of the legislative and administrative
powers in this country, to mitigate penal
inflictions and penal laws without forfeitis^
OUGHT TRANSPORTATION TO BB ABOLISHED?
345
the c]»ins ci justice, are indicative of the
^^radaal progress of society. The number
of those persons who do not believe cither in
the positive jastice or abeolute necessity of
punishinent by death or transportation is
large and rapidly increasing, and they b:ive
in many instances displayed the greatest
genias in the defence of such belief. The
popular mind, or public opinion^ which is
the only true basis of human legislutioit, is
slowly bnt snrely advancing in favoar of the
total abolition of capital pnnibhments. When
the British Controversialist throws open its
unpartial pages to sncli inquiries as, '' Oaght
Capital Punishment to be abolished ? "
" Ought the State and Church to be united?"
'Ought Transportation to be abolished?"
it is not to satisfy the curiosity of the reader
or speculative debater, but to give expression
to public opinion, and indicate the progress
of the national mind in religious, political,
and social truths^a noble object, and one
which must promote the highest good.
We propose to examine the law of trans-
portation in se, and inquire,
I. Does it come up to the standard of law,
or does it embody and express the principles
of universal justice?
Transportation, considered as a penal law,
is partial and imperfect. While, on the one
hand, it is a means to preserve social and
political peace at home; on the other hand,
it is an act of gross injustice abroad. No
law can be prononnced good in itself, if in
its administration the rights of individuals
or nations, or the principles of universal
jastice, are violated. This is the inevitable
result of the transportation system. If we
inquire into the origin of this penal law, we
shall find that it was not the result of wise
deliberation, and a broad survey of all those
consequences which might attend or succeed
its administration; but, dicta mirahilt! the
reverse. The positive and probable conse-
quences were cither not thought of, or, worse,
they were totally disregarded. It was not
'' the result of experience, and the reasoning
of the learned and the wise," but of *' mere
speculation and theory," fear and incapacity.
It was impossible that a good law should be
instituted under such circumstances and in-
fluences. The reader will remember the
period and circumstances in which this law
originated. The government at that crisis
was in a dilemma of no ordinary character
c<Hiceming the nature and extent of punish-
ment for the violation of national laws.
Such was the imperfection of penal science
(if such it could be then termed), that
transportation, rather than death, for minor
o£fenccs was gladly acceded to. " For fifty-
seven years (1718 — 75) we sowed crime
broadcast upon the great seaboard of North
America, until the colonies themselves in-
dignantly protested against, and put an end
to, our insane policy." In the meantime
the immortal Howard had commenced his
illustrious and philanthropic career. The
world had already echoed with his fame, and
the sad hearts of the sons and daughters of
crime and misfortune beat with joy as his
name re-echoed from shore to shore — from
dungeon to dungeon, from the prisons of Eng-
land to the lazarettos of continental Europe
— ^as their benefactor and deliverer. Till his
day the administration of justice to the debtor
or criminal was an awful tragic farce. For
the slightest ofi'ences and most trifling debts
men sufi'ered punishments worse than death :
miseries now unparalleled are chronicled in
history. What a fearful revelation of all
this did Howard, by his godlike goodness and
fortitude, make to the wide world ! W'ith him
" the history of prison science begins. Be-
fore his time there were no data on which to
base a rule of criminal treatment." It can-
not be wondered at, then, that the treat-
ment was imperfect and bad. " The gallows
and the penal settlement" were the chief
features of this treatment. With the latter
we have to do. We cannot better show tho
origin of transportation than by quoting the
words of Judge Heath on the subject of
criminal treatment, as it will intimate pretty
clearly the wisdom, logic, and spirit of the
age on the subject: — "If you imprison at
home, the criminal is soon thrown back upon
you hardened in guilt. If you transport^
you corrupt infant societies, and sow tJie
seeds of atrocious crimes over the habitable
globe. There is no regenerating a felon in
this life; and for his own sake, as well as for
the sake of society, I think it better to hang
him." The time had, however, arrived when
men were no longer to be hanged for cutting
hop-bauds and other trivial offences. This
being the case, transportation was resorted
to, as, according to the wisdom of the legis-
lature, the only possible means of suppressing
the crime. England was only to be pre-
d46
OUGHT TBAXSrORTATlOX TO BE ABCWJSBBD?
served " by oomptiog in&nt tocMties, mod
sowing the seeds <^ atroeiooa crimes over the
faabit«ble globe." Thus admitted one who
stood At the head of the penal administra-
tion. Transportation was resorted to; and
not nntil America protested against it did
the system meet with any great obstacle.
But Uiis was a grtai one; for it not only
saved the American coast from a oontinnal
deluge of crime, disease, and misery, bnt
opened the eyes of all civilised nations to
the enormity and evil of the system. The
mind and genios of Eorope were then
directed to the study of the social sciences
and the philosophy of law. Blackstone and
Paley in England, Voltaire and Montesqoiea
in France, Beccaria in Spain, and the im-
mortal Howard, all came to the same taslc —
the sdation of the pen*! problem. Since
the appearance of Beccaria's celebrated work
on "Crimes and Panishment," and Howard
on the *' State of Prisons," the intelligence,
patriotism, and wisdom of England have
been gradnally rising against transportation.
Notwithstanding all this, the system was
again carried out to as fearful an extent
as ever. From 1788 to 1845 England pol-
Inted the Australian coast with an ever-
encroaching tide of crime and wretchedness,
until the evil assumed such an overwhelming
aspect that U Ufos thought no longer judiciom
to send convict* there. The reader need not
be reminded of our present policy, and ** the
expensive, dangerous, and destructive scheme
of transportation to Botany Bay." As was
the evil in Beccaria's and Howard's day, so
is it now. Transportation still prevails as
the law of the land. So dt£Sonlt is it to
undermine evils which legislation has ren-
dered permanent, the lapse of time customary,
and the law apparently right. Bnt the
popular mind does not consider it an em-
bodiment of justice, good policy, or wisdom,
ergo it must soon cease; and the day is not
far distant we hope. Truly has it been re-
marked of "the gallows and penal settle-
ment," that they are both of them " unworthy
of an age or country pretending to a high
state of civilization ; both of them repudiated,
or nearly so, by every other enlightened
nation."
11. What are the consequences of trans-
portation ?
We may decide whether a law is good
by its results. The axiomatic words of
Christ, ** By tlieir finiiU ye dtaU know them,^
hold true here. The evtls whidi arise front
tnmsportatioa are many, great, and Hearf oL
This none will d«ny, the facts are so palpaUe.
TheM call loadly for ito total abdUtioB,
in a voice that is terribly eloquent, the
daylight teachings of which no l^gisistive
powers can diMefard without incorring
equally terrible reapoosibiKty. Our spsee
will not allow us to do mora than gkaee
at the chief concomitant evils of this srs-
tem.
1. That it is an act of injustice to foni)^
colonies, or wherever oar oonvieta may be
landed. This we have already shown; io-
deed, it is an inevitable result of the systeiB.
Is it no evil or injustice to export vice, £s-
ease, lunacy, physical degeneraoy,and monJ
corruption, into the very heart of "in&at
sodoties"? Illogical Heath adnaitted that it
was far better to hang oonvieta than tbss
demonise the world. W^ would not abbv
the man who would dare to pollate the misds
of youth? Who, then, oaa do other than
denounce that system of penal administrati«
which does it with " innnt colonies" ffMn
which naticHis may spring hereafter to oaa-
trol the world, and that, too, in the light af
Christianity, under the sanction of home
law? " If we will plant the atom, we most
expect to have to reap the whirlwind." Ter-
rible truth, this I
2. Beocaria teaches us, on philosofiSue
principles, that transportation is unjoat t«
the convict hiniself. This is evident. Tbe
removal of the criminal £pom the eoontiT
whose laws he has violated tends to oUitente
the enormity of his crime frun his nemon*,
and ultimately to frustrate the end of tbe
law, by administering an inadequate posiib-
ment, providing in the first instaaoe tbe
crime was of such a n4ture aa to call ^f
banishment, which is not always the case.
3. It is truly, according to Hovsrd^i
words, **an expensive, dangerous, sad d^
strnctive scheme." The administrstioo oi'
justice is necessarily attended with considf r-
able national expenditore; but even in tiiii
there ought to be economy. Tnasportanos
is one of the most, if not the most, cxpsnHTt
mode of penal treatment praetised; lo ear
nothing of the loss to society of indiv)diiai&
wiio might be reclaimed to virtuons life and
social happiness under a different trealmeoU
and the awful beggary to whteh diildno asd
OUGHT TRAMBPORTATIOir TO BB ABOLUHKD ?
347
^wtB are ofduMS reduced. How few sur-
me tnnsporUtioD, and bow few of those
^■ho do see their native ehores again !
It is a dangeroos system. The final
nature of transportation produces hardness
of heart, remorse, despair, anything but that
state of mind which justice administered
ought to produce — repentance. It is often
attended with great loss of life during the
voyages, arisiog from many now somewhat
mitigated evils.
Thus have we sbuwn that the law of
transportation is not the embodiment of jua-
tioe; that it was resorted to in a dilemma;
that those who have examined it in practice
as well as theory denounce it as essentially
and irremediably bad in se ; that it is a two-
fold injustice; that it is "a profound mia-
take," and has hitherto proved an utter
failure; and, finally, that it is an expengivef
dangeravst dimstrous, and cruel scheme.
Let the candid reader weigh the evidence in
his own mmd; we are satisfied as to his
ultimate conviction. £. W. 8.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
The universality of sin is a doctrine main-
tained by moet theologians, while the preva-
lence of crime is a fact which continually
fbrc^ itself on the attention of the statesman
9ad the philanthropist. The "originof evir
may be a subj«fct of dispute; but its wide-
Bpraui influence is a matter of every-day
iBzperience. Various are the forms in which
this principle manifests itself; but not a few
grille from man's character as a social being,
^nd are ofiences agunst the social compact.
This being the case, society naturally taiccs
cognizance of these offences, and visits the
culprit with sudi punishments as it deems
necessary for " prevention or cure." These
^punishments have been various in kind and
<lifierent in degree. The individuals upon
^rhom they were inflicted were said to be
placed tinder the ban of society, a word from
which our term baniskmeiU is derived, being,
SB we know, denotive of the kind of punish-
ment most frequent in gone- by days.
Banishment was known as a species of
pitniahment to the ancient Romans ; and we
hare a record of two famous instances of this
in the time of Augustus, viz., the poet Ovid,
who was banished to a small town on the
Eaxine, and Archelaus, the son of Herod the
"Great, who was banished for life to a city of
Gaol. All Bible readers will remember the
case of the writer of the " Revelation," who
far his religion was banished to the isle of
Patnios. By the statute of 39 Eliz. cap. iv.
Vanishment, which meant mere expulsion
from the kingdom, was decreed as the pu-
nishment of ^* dangerous rogues and vaga-
bonds.** James I., however, virtually con-
verted it into an act for' tran^yortation to
America, by ordering the treasurer and
council of the colony of Virginia, in 1619,
"to send a hundred dissolute persons to
Virginia, which the knight-marshal would
deliver to them.'' Transportation, thus in-
troduced into Great Britain, was continued
during the seventeenth and eighteenth cen-
turies, until the breaking out of the American
war of independence. During this war, and
subsequently, various plans were suggested
by diflerent individuals, and, amongst others,
one by John Uoward, for providing another
penal system. But all attempts at this
fulled; and transportation was resumed by
an act passed in the twenty-fourth year of
George III., "which empowered his majesty
in council to appoint to what place beyond
the seas, either within or without his ma-
jesty's dominions, offenders should be trans-
ported; and by two orders in council, dated
Dec. 6, 1786, the eastern coast of Australia
and the adjacent islands were fixed upon.
.In the month of May, 1787, the first band
of convicts left England, and in the succeed-
ing year founded the colony of New South
Wales." Penal settlements were afterwards
established at Van Diemen's Land, Norfolk
I&land, Bermuda, &c.
Against this system of punishment nume-
rous objections, as might have been expected,
have been urged. A few great and good
men have objected to it on various grounds ;
and some of the colonists — even some of the
descendants of transports — have loudly cla-
moured against criminals being sent to pol-
lute their pure atmosphere! Recent events,
especially the discovery of the Australian
gold-mines in the proximity of the penal
settleroenta, have forced this subject upon
the attention of our legislators, and led to
the introduction of the present governments'
" Transportation Bill." Upon the discussion
348
OUOBT TRAXSPOBTATIOX TO BE ABOUSBED ?
of that bill we shall not now presume to
enter; bnt we may remark, in passing, that
the tmfavoarable opinions respecting trans-
portation generally, which haye been uttered
by many in *' high places," seem to indicate
that something more in this direction may
be expected from the goyemment, and that
it is time for the people to consider the sub*
ject for themseWes, so that they may be in
a position to exert their inflnenoe beneficially
upon their representatives. On these gronnds
we rejoice in the introduction of the subject
to the attention of the intelligent readers of
the Britith Controversialist^ and conscien-
tiously take up our pen to maintain that
Transportation ought not to be abolished.
All punishmentB, to be effectiye, must
haye at least a three>fold tendency. 1st,
To inflict a penalty upon the transgressor;
2ndly, To bring a reformatory influence to
bear upon him; and 3rdly, To exhibit a
preyenUtiye example to society at large.
Now, we maintain that in a well-directed
system of transportation all these tendencies
are to be found; and further, that this has
been the case in our own system, notwith-
standing its imperfect character, and the
more imperfect manner in which it has been
carried out
I. With regard to the penalty which
transportation is felt to be to the ofiender.
Under any circumstances, the idea of leaving
home and fatherland, family and friends, is
painful; but it becomes ten-fold more so
when the removal is by force — when the
individual is torn from the embraces of
friends, and is sent for a number of years*
and a hard course of servitude —
" To »iprh his KnglUh breath in foreign olondsj
Eating th« bitter bread ol' banishmetit."
When we try to realize all this, we wonder not
at hearing of female convicts, in past years,
under sentence of death, refusing their lives on
the condition of being transported to Botany
Bay ! True, the increased facilities of tran-
sit, the spread of intelligence, and preva-
lence of voluntary emigration, have done
much to deprive emigration of some of its
terrors, but they have left many unmitigated.
In proof of this wo have the highest possible
testimony— that of Lord Campbell, the Lord
Chief Justice of England — who so recently
as the Istof March last stated, in the House
of Lords, that ^ he took on himself to say,
as a judge, that if he pronounced senteoct
of imprisonment for life in England, tb«
sentence produced no such effect as if he
had said that the prisoner should be trstt»-
ported beyond seas;" and on another cccm-
sion " he declared to their lofdships, from
his experience as a judge, he was in a pou>
tion to state that the sentence of timnsports-
tion produced the deepest effect, not only
npon those upon whom it was passed, Uu
on all who heard it pronotmced."
II. As regards the reformatory ioflaeocc
of a proper system of transportation, ther^
cannot be two opinions. Antecedently to ill
experience '* reason itself would teach q>,'
to use the language of Filangieri, ** that it
is possible to transform a bad man into i
good one, by removing him from the theatre
of his crimes, of his infamy, and of his cos-
demnation;** and Dr. Lang, a lengthciei
and well-known resident in Australia, aids,
'* Unfavourable as the circumstances of tb**
Australian penal cdoniea have generaliy bwa
for ensuring the reformation 6[ criminsli, I
am enabled to state, from my own expehecce
and observation, that this object of pamsh-
ment has actually been attainni in ihetf
colonies in many instancea; and that sucj
instances would, in all probability, have bees
ten-fold more numerous, but for the circaa-
stances and events connected with the aJsii-
nistration of penal discipline in the Aufrtnl'i.
colonies." This might suffice; bat we us-
not forbear giving the testimony of oar ocl:
colonial secretary, who says : " With n^^i
to the beneficial effect of transportuij'.
upon the convicts who were sent to Hi
colonies, he found the testimony of all tW
who had been in Van Diemen^s Land— <C'
the testimony was invariably to the eameeficct
— was, that the great majority of the ci^a*
victs, having been removed from temptati^u
had become, as might be expected, t/nitrlf
and industrious people, who tcert vilUrs ^
conform themselves to the knts <if socitt^*
ill. With respect to the preventative it*
fluence of transportation much need n-i ^
said, for this follows as a natural eeticeotf
to its punitive character; and the testimoc^
of Lord Campbell, already adduced, v*-'
have its due weight here. It has beea <i-
jected to transportation, that by ivmov^
criminals from this country, we Jon; tbc
exemplary influence of their ponishiDtft:
but this does not hold good, while tJ<i:
STUDIES FOR LAW STUDENTS.
349
absence constitutes one of the principal ele^
meiits of their panisbment, for the knowledge
of the cause of that absence supplies pre-
Tentative power. True, this power may
work secretly — and this is its essential cha-
racteristic— but it works not a whit the less
safely and surely.
Time and space forbid us to add more;
but these hasty notes will be sufficient to
set forth our opinion on this question, and
to indicate the grounds on which that opiniou
is based. We are happy to know that we
shall have an opportunity, at the close of
the debate, of returning to the question, and
noticing the arguments of our opponents.
J. M. S.
€1)1
•f i*
I' Hf Inrittirs' mum.
STUDIES FOR LAW STUDENTS.
Several inquiries from correspondents, on legal points, induce us to resume our remarks
mder the above heading.
The nature of the inquiries now made will lead us into a different course of remark
from that previonsly taken. One of our correspondents asks for a list of works adapted
for general reading by law students ; another asks if an articled clerk can go up for exami-
nation at any time within the last year of his clerkship. A friend has kindly furnished
the main information sought by the first inquiry; we shall, therefore, chiefly address our-
selves to the second, adding such general information as we may deem likely to be of ser-
^ca to our legal readers generally.
It is not a little curious, yet no more curious than true, that there are few matters upon
«rhich law students, as a body, are less informed than the details incident to articled clerk-
ship. Great inconvenience must sometimes arise from th'is fact When our legal friends
raflect upon the great care which it is necessary to exercise during the period of clerkship,
Ib order that there may be no impediments to the compliance with the strict *' standing
orders" we shall presently have to refer to, they will see how desirable it is that correct
ioformation should be enrly sought by those who would avoid the trouble and annoyance
which the want of such information will be almost certain to occasion.
It is not to be expected that we shall furnish all the details requisite for the complete
guidance of the articled clerk from the date of his articles to the date of his admission as
«n attorney. Such extended details can only be supplied by works specially prepared for
the purpose, and of which there are several extant. We shall content ourselves with fnr-
ftlmhing gQch general information as should be known as well by those who contemplate the
stady of the law as those who have commenced it.
We stated on a previous occasion that the ordinary period of clerkship is Jive years,
escxpt where the pupil has taken a university degree, when three years' service only is
lequisite.
When the term of articles has nearly expired, and the pupil begins to think of taking
the necessary steps to secure his " call" for examination, he generally procures a " guide,"
-and then the real difficulties of his position present themselves. He finds himself called
upon, as the preliminary step to the important task on which he is now entering, to answer
-the following (or similar) stringent questions: —
1. What was yonr age on the day of the date of your articles?
350 BTUDtEB FOB LAW 8TUDB2IT8.
2. Have yoa served the whole of your uiidee at the office where the attorney or attor-
neys to iHiom you were articled or assigned carried on his or their bnsiiieBS? If not.
state the reason.
3. Have yon at any time daring the term of yoor articles been ahtent urWunU the per-
mimum of the attorn^ or attornegfa to whom jfovtoere artiekd or aMsigmedt and if 90y
state the length and occanon of tuck abamoe,
4. HaTO you daring the period of yonr articles been engaged or ooncemed m any pro-
feaaum, huaineas^ or employment^ other than your pro/eaaional employtnent aa ^erk to the
attorney or attomeya to trhom you were articled or aasigned f
5. Have yon since the expiration of yonr articles been engaged or concerned, and f«9-
how long time, in any and what professimi, trade, bnsinessi or employment, other than
the profession of an attorney or solicitor?
The pupil's answers to these qnettions, together with those of his master to a ooncspod-
ing series of inquiries, will most probably determine the chance of a ^^cali* at the poioi
desired. Various notioea precede and foUow these inquiries as farther pralmdnary stejs.
all of which must be in strict conformity with the ofdeis of the Master of the Bolls Cor the
regnlatioD of the ezaminatioos as from time to time in force.
The act of parliament now in force for the regnlataoa of these matters is (we beiiert)
the 6 and 7 Victoria, cap. 73 (" An Act for Gansolidating and AmeBdmg the Laws leUliE^
to Attorneys and Sdiciton"), which all law students will do well to consult.
We may here state (in reply to the question referred to in the earlier part of this ptper)
that we do not know of any regulation cr older in existence entitling aa articled deik in
go up for examination before the term of his articles has /«% expired; on the amtivy.
all the forms to be complied with, and the questions pot, would seem to imply that it b
essential that the term of clerkship should be eoB^^leied before eismination It is neett-
sary to give one term's notice of intention to go up for examination. This, we think, mif lit
fairly be gtrea so as to eaable the student to go up immediately on the oompletieB of tb«
period of clerkdiip; or, if the matter was reaSg urgent, a special order might, perhaps^ br
obtained from the Master of the BoUs; but such a step woold entail expense; and, u it ^
quite clear the odlMUticMi could not take place until the term of cterkship was folly ooC'
pleted, we can see no object in hastening on the examination.
It may be remarked further, as to the period of clerkship, that of the three years' ttra.
one year may be senred with a London agent, but no pari with a hat i I'sltr ; while, of tk
jive years* term, one year may be served with a London agent, and one year with a hr*
rister, or special pleader.
The legal works really essential to be read by a law student art, Williams' ** PriIKip{^'
of the Law of Beal Property;" the second Tolnme of BlackstooiTa (Stephens*) " ComKCB-
taries;" and the careful perusal of Cruise's "Digest" He should also read a serine
dever letters on ** Conveyancing," now publishing in ^ The Law Student^ Magariae." H.'
acquaintance witli the works named will prepare him for the reading of soch fnrdicr <x0
as ^ Piatt on Leases," " Feame on Contingent Bemaindexs and Exccntory Deriscs," VT;^
liams% ''Exseutors and Administrators," Sagden*s ** Vendors and rmiliasnii,* asd tkr
elaborate treatise on " Powers'* by the same author. We place these works in die otder
in which they should be consulted. It is one thing to read a book, and aBstbcr to wcdff-
RBPORTB OP MOTUJkL UPBOVEBIBNT 80CIBTIB8.
351
stsnd it; hence care must be taken that the books read lead, step by step, to the point
desired to bt attained. The peculiar branch of the profesaioa intended to be followed moat
determine the sobseqaent or additional coarse of reading.
With respect to readings in ''general literatttre,** we think the list of works fnmished hj
fi> S., is the Jane nnmber, on the whole so well selected, that we have oolj one or two to
add; these are, "Sir James Mackintosh's Speeches" '*Lord Broagham's Speeches,'* and
'ShHl's Speeches." From these maj be gathered the essence or philosophy of the law in
t«Tenl brsaches not nsoally treated of in ^ law books proper," aud yet of great service to
the student
We folly ooneor in the remarks of B. S. on the importance of a knowledge of histort
to tLe law studcnL It is admitted on all hands that without this ** the lawyer will fre-
qwntly be at a loss even in the practical details of his own department, and can have no
KcteosioDs to be oonaideRd accomplished in his profession."
We have already folly expressed oar opinion on the advantages of properly constxtnted
"debating societies" to law students. We are pleased to remark that one of the greatest
Xmodem lawyers (Sir Samuel Romilly) says, " that some of the arguments on legal suh-
jecU which he composed for the debating society to which he was attached were afterwards
of the greatest use to him at the bar, and were frequently referred to by him." We trust
maoj of oor readers may derive like benetit, and " shine as he shone."
C. W., JUK.
REPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
WwJttry^i Young MtWi Lii»rwry Union. —
Tbe Itetures raArred to in a rerem number have
(xvn delivered. The first lecture was by Dr.
Jeorjje Wilson, on " The Power of the Bye to
wemi Colour." Amongst other matters, Dr.
yOMn showed, by a number of instances sd-
■||H>ed, that grewt ignonmee prevails regarding tiie
oiflerent kinds and shadev of colour, end this
^n amongst those whose trades require a know-
^Rv of ihem ; whilst Ibmaks, fh>m the woollen
uid other kinds of work which engaM their
^''^tion, know much more of colours ttan the
^po«ite sex. The chair was occupied by Adam
Black, Em., late Lord Provost The second leo-
^^ was delivered by Hugh Millar, Esq., on
'The Reladoas of G«ology to Theology,* and
'as a Tcry eloqaent and impressive one. The
bair was oeeupied by ProA»sor Swinton, who
ritb much eloquenoe enforced the lecture of Mr.
f illir, who, from the humble occupation of a
^anieyman maaon, had raised himoelf to the
inks of tlM most distingoished geologists and
If stiag writers of his time. The third lecture
'*» delivered by the Rev. Dr. Robert T^ee, pro-
^Mor in the university and one of the eity minis-
^. The subject of Dr. Lee's lecture was, <* The
QitivatJoD of (he Mental and Physieal Powers."
be chair was occupied by F. Maitland Heriot,
*()., Advocate, yirho expressed his interest hi the
>eiety, and the desiiv of the town couneU, of
bieh he is a member, to promote the elevation
r the young men of the city. The lectures have
!<ni highly sncoesaftil, and have been ftivourably
Hieed by the newMpapers ; and il is eontemplated
have a siailar eouvse iu the winur.
The Edinbiayh AJbion Mutual Improvement
Society held their first annual soiree, in Sinclair's
Temperance Hotel, Sl David's Street, ou the
evening of Wednesday, 99tb June, 1653, when the
members entertained their friends with a sub-
stantial repast; Mr. Paul in the chair. After tea
the meeting was eloquently addressed by the
chairman, and Messrs. Ingram, Macpherson,
MacNaughton, Walker, Siodart, aud Usher.
The Wlgan Discuetion Society.— Thi» society
was eatabh»hed in April, 1852, by the exertions of
fdnr members of the Wigan Mechanics' Institu-
tion, and consisted of only fourteen members, but
has since that time increased to nearly thirty.
Previously Wigan had not, for a considerable
number of years, poMsessed a society of this
description, nor an institution worthy of notice.
The first meeting was ht* Id on the 27th of April,
1A52, and a code of rules suitable to the object of
the society was agreed to. Meetings for discus-
sion have since been held on alternate Friday
evenings, each question being introduced by an
essay written b^ the proposer of the snbjecL On
Thursday evening, May 27, the members cele-
brated their first anniversary soiree, at Mr. Grant's
Temperance Hotel, where upwards of seventy
memben and friends partook of " the cup which
cheers but not inebriates." After tea the cloths
were withdrawn, and Mr. £. Clarke was called to
the chair. The seoretary's report showed the
society to be In a very flourishing and hopeftil
condition. The meeting was addressed by several
members, and the evening's entertainment was
enlivened with various pleasjii|^ recitatkmB.
During the crening semral Mlcct pieees of mtuie
■Kiolwn u ur taum lu
or pri3«]i^r. The rcp'vt hiflu
uJ a'l'iiHnl, nul nligi at Ihiuik'
litriiBI'iTi aB<l riiBUDlUH'.IlH' Biminu pruetcimi
10 Ihr rtHdun ••( oIlBn fiir Iha HinitDir imiX-
Ttur.— II. I.., Hon.Sn.
W*rb.>r« A'myaail Eforilliji (lou.lBKin-
■ ■- -, |>ria]>lrr ItMhvIbl BidiIiv
niiniul toft iwrt* wnl vmt
Sumdrrtmi ftolnninl Sotirlii.—l
nuMfrir mnUu ottlih HieiriT liubc
Icupnun Uowl, TllliHHinM. m. :
JuiK inu. ARcr Uir mrmlm L»l td_ _
Ur.D.O.Oniirninllnlunaubipiruir. I.
- ifai niiailRlj H»iini rili p-jiI Ui
..Mr.kFnm. Pnn ihl* K mk^
IhullHiiiirirtjoi-^ '— -- -- - -
yptj Ki'll bs >u]ipoMd. trm hi! tan
,n«KUr. ft iFuni innnat ia aiiik Di
THK ETQUIRSR.
353
cteties, occupieU the cnair. Mr. W. N. Wattoii
presided at Um pianoforte, aod, by his hich
miuical Uilent, both liutromentallf and vocally,
contribute*! larvelj to the eujoym^ut of the meei-
iag. Mr. Lamb supplied a reek^rehi repast, in
the shape of tea and eakt, supplemented at a
later hour by the summer dehcacr of ** straw- '
btrries and cream," wiiich ouving been discussed,
the special business of the festival was gone
on with. The young literati, aAer the chair-
man's Sildress, arrangrd the grave and the gay
of their programme, and songs, recitations, and
addresses followed each other in ptoasiuf tuo-
eession.
€^t SDijttirm
QUESTION'S REQUIRING ANSWERS.
180. Will any one who is acquainted with the
l«admg features of the universities of Cambrid^'C,
Oxford, London, and Dublin, say which uf the
four he would advice a person to enter who is
studying for the legal profession 7 The in<|uirer's
object iu going to college will not be, like that of
many, merely to fritter away three or four years
of his life, but renlly to labour in tlio punuit of
knowledge. What U the stuly (if tliere be one
more thun another) to which each respective col-
lege ro<)re ei«i>ecia]ly directs attention ? Wlial are
tb« expenses for lectures an<l otlier fi>es in each?
What desrrees are conferred, and what is tJie value
of the scliolanthips offered in each ? I* rcfsideiice
in coll<;ge the rule of all the universities; ond
how many months in tiie year is the Ktu<lent
requited to nticnd? How many examinations
are there yearly ? These anil any other pintiuu-
lars as to the general routine of college life, its
duties, Ace, will be very tMaukfiilly receivfd by
the inquirer, and. no dou^t, many dther reo>U>rs
of this pcnodicai, who intend at some time to
enter college, and to wh(Mn such information
would be highly valuable.— D. II.
181. I am a draper, hosier, and habordashor;
•nd. in order to a scientific knowledge of the
business, winh to become ac(|uainted with the
place and mode of manufacture of the principal
articles in these branches of tlie trade. Could
▼ou or some of your readers furnish me with a
list of books containing the desired infonnation,
with prices attached ? I should feel very deeply
obliged.— Ualf-£ ll.
18i. It is usually stated by farmers that a cart
or tumbrel with wooden axles goes much easier
over soi\ or newly.disturited soil than one having
iron axl-s, though in the former case Uie axles
mrtt double tho«e of the latter in diameter. When
• cart, Sa*., with iron axles is caused to go over
jnecently ploughed or harrowed land, tlie wheels,
instead of turning regularly round, frequently
•lide along the soil ; but with the wooden axle
this is scarcely ever the case. Will some of your
able and philosophic friends favour me with a
solution showing the reason of these facts ? —
Jas. O. G.
IHJ. I find, in a work on dialing, that on fixing
m. dial it shouM be placed 5' 57" too slow by the
dock on the 1st of August; but it does not state
whether that is to be taken fur any particular
part of the day, or whether it will be too sluw at
noon as well as before and after noon ; if so, of
course the sun cannot be plain south, and at its
highest point at noon, which I have generally
understood was the ease. I shotild feel particu-
larly oblige-1 by an answer explaining the above,
if you or any of your readers will do me (he
favour. — .1. B.
IHl. Perhaps some of your many intelli|(ent
readers mi^hi inform me on the following iK>mts.
The earth's orbit is elliptical ; when at the farthest
distance from the sun, the parts to the north of
the equator have summer, and when nearest to
the sun tlie same ])arts have winter ; the southern
portions of tlte enrth, on the oUier hand, have
w.nter when we have summer, and summer when
we have winter. Now, what I wish to know is,
whether, from the earth's proximity to the sun in
summer, and its remoteness in winter, the degrees
of heat and coM south of the equator are not eon-
si lerably greater than what is experienced north
of it ^'uring the like seasons? — A. M. A.
185. I would feel murh obliged if anv of your
correspondents could give me some information
n.'speciing tiie various rhymed versions of the
Psalms of David, which ha<l been made in Great
Britain before Vie Revolution uf 1688? If pos-
sible, I should like to ascertain which versions
were in use during the civil wars, and also
whether any editiorts are in print slill, and where
they mav be obtained ? — A. Z.
186. Being asked to scan the following lines, —
" Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed
bat,
Witlk short, shrill shriek flits by ou leathern
wings ;
Or where the be»'tle winds
His small but sullen horn,"
and not being able to do it, would any of your
rvatlers inform me. thruutsh the paves of your
niagazine, how to scan En^rlish verse ? By so
doing they will obliore— Jute sis.
187. Having a great desire to acquire a know-
ledge of the tieautiful art of phot^jgraphy : and,
unfortunately, residing too far from any one whom
I could consult personally on the matter, I was
induced to apply, through the medium of your
journal, to s.tme of your learned correspondents,
who, I have no doubt, will furnish me with the
nrces.sary information. I mean to pursue the
Collodion process, on which I have read some
few short extracts, which, however, were not suP.
fieicntly instructive. I And the diflerent articles
are very expensive, and would like to be informed
whether there is any means of pn>curing some of
the articles (say the achromatic lens) without
going to the expense of purchasing them. —
Ctmro-Bach.
1H8. Will any gentleman kindly infbrm me in
what the examination for B. 1). consists, and if
that degree can be obtained without previous con-
nexion with the universiiies?— An Aspieant.
3i
354
THE INQUIRER.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
135,136. A Student's Library.— The variety and
number of buoks recomracnded to " Edward ' and
••A Law Student," is enough to l»ewiMer tlitiin ;
to most, however, of the aaditions and substitu-
tions suggested by "J. B. M'C." to the list on
page 75, I have no objection; only I think it
would be well for " A Law Student" and general
readers to omit from both lists all works rclatina;
to Greek and Latin composition, in pro^e and
Ycrse, and ]ikewi>e all those mathematical worKs
which ran.(>e higher thuu Euclid and tlie elemt'nts
of algebra ; the result of studying which is not
worth Uie time and labour necessary to master
tliem. The lii^t given at page 7o is, as a corres-
pondent has suggested, deficient in works of
history. The following list, which may be con-
sidered as supplemental to the former, ^vill
remedy this delect, and has b($tdts the advan-
tage of containing nothing but bonks of \}\e \ory
highest character, each being probably, in its
own particular de])artment, second lo none for
tlio accun'cj", uliility, and impartiality of its
author. 1 p'acc thcin in, what a])]>ears to me,
their order of imjiortance : — l.ingards " History
of England;" Si«*i»hcn s •* Comni'.'Utary on tl»e
Laws of England " ^incorporating great part of
Blackstoue's" Commentiuits*); HjiIIan»'s**Con-
stitutinnul History of England:" De Lolme on
the"Consti:utiiin of England "(Bohn); Giiizot'»
" Histoire do la Civilisation en Europe" (Bi'gue
has pul'li-ihfd a trauhlation in 3 volumes); Mal-
let's *• NorllMiTi Antiquities," with prtljice by
Bishop IVr.y (FiOlm); Ilallam's '• Histoiy of the
Middle Agfs:" Midlands " Histoire des Croi-
sades ;" (i (\ Lewis " On the Melhcds ofObsor-
ration and l{ea«.oning iti l*oliti<s;" J. S. Mills
"System oi' Lf^ic;" Barrow's "Thonlogiciil
Works" (Oxford' eiHlion); Whewfll's " HiMorv
and PliiI(.i>oi'!iy of the Inductive Scitnccs; '
Bacon's " CbiMWorks." eiliii-d by Matkl.y (j ub-
lished by Paik^r). I would add, tliat a very
splendid nnd tlaborate edition ol il.e Grnk and
Latin classics, under the title of " Bibliothera
Classicn," is in njurisc of publi: ation. under the
joint si;perinttri(It7)ce of t«o accomplisheil Eng-
lish scholars, Mr. Long and Mr. Maclt-aue;
two volnines oniy bavf, indred, as yet appeared,
viz., '• Thf Ven ine ( )rations of Cicero." and " The
Works of Hor.u c ;" but if continued, the " Bibli-
othe<-a Classica " bids fair to supplant everv other
edition of the classics at pre&ent in use in this
country. L.
159. A Camrra Ohsrura. — As no answer has
yet been gi«cn to "J I). B.," who inquires for a
cheap mode of making a camcia obscura, I would
observe. Hint 1 think he would fiml it cheaper in
the end to purchase one; he may get one with
bniss blidiiii; front, and miniscus lens lor ob-
taining pictures on paper, 4 inches by 3, for
^1 Is. ; but it he wishes to make one, he may
obtain thf required infoimatiou Irom a little
work by Willais— E. S. P.
160. P/iotfUfrtifdc I'apcr. — Tonr correspondent
**J. H. 'wDuM ()(t wellio purchase a bi>ok, entitled
"Willafs's " Plain Directions lor obtaining Photo-
graphic Picums," fic, which would give him all
necessary in'oni>ation concerning the pn-paring
of the abi)vr pop* r ; the pnce is Is.; it may be
bad llirr)ugh any bookseller. 1 may, however,
in the xneantimei obserre, th«jl \\« i\io\M 'Vie'\}%x-
ticularly carcfbl about tlie kind of paper be pro-
cures, as lor want of sufficient caution in this
respect man^ experimenturs fail. Momer's pare
white paper is con.^idered the best.
Having selected paper of a close and erni
te.xture, and marked on one side with a penril.
wash this side over carefully with a solution,
consisting of thirty grains of nitiate silver. di»-
solved in one ounce of distilled water, whirik
apply plentilully with a brush, thoroughly wet-
ting every part, but leaving no mob»Uii^ untb-
sorbed ; tliis should be done on a hard, smooth
buard, and thoruuglily dried in the dark. Ttrti
take a solution of two hundred grains of iodide
potassium in half a pint of water, to which &ftj
giaius of salt have bi«en adde<l ; draw \he paper
over the surface of Uie liquid, ie'.tmg it repoK
upon it, when plastic, for a few secouds. turns
more than one minute. AAer di^pijig. drain is,
and lay it flat until about hall dry, then net it
afl<)at in clean water for about teu minute s. dnw-
ing it now and tlien along the aurface ; hva^ A
in a dark n^om to ilry, and, w hen dry, tniootii it
by pressure. It is ot the utmost iiii}>oitacce ttsx
all the soluble salts should be remot ed from Ibe
paper, and this is ix>adLly e/Tectt d by leavioft i:
floating for a time in water: a rougher wa^faio;
would l(.:oseu tlie inside of siher. This paper
will keep some time if carefully laid by in apo(^
Jolio. If " J. H." wi^hes to know ho'w u> aj^ily
the ]'aper, whtn prepared, als-) rv*i>eelJng pUxiiu;
it in tlie cameia, I refer him to the book i^ttit
named. I may infonn him also that the psper.
iT:\'iy prepared, may be obtAincd at the said
Willats's establishment, nt the following prices:—
Photogenic paper, in packets, Ir*. and 2*. CJ.;
cnergiotypc paper, ditto, Is. and Ss Od. ; Monier'i
pure white paper, Is. <)d. per quire, &c., kc
Superior papto* may be had at higher pricea.—
E. S. P.
1C5. The Laws of Ilfat. — In continuation cf
the article by us in the July number uf tb«
Jlritish Coutrfn^rtialist, concenjing the natarr
of the sun's body, we beg to cull the atiemioncf
R. K. to the following on *' the lawa c-i hrat,*bf
Professor F. C. Cal^ert, F.C S.L., in the hrxpA
number of the "Literary and Scientific Ln-
turer" : —
" There are three disttinci throretical views d
the nature of heat. The firM is that uf mwi^^
tion or vibration, which ailuiits that heat is jh^
jiagated, in space or in matter, by the vibratioBS
of an trnpoiiderablejiuid cxi^tiujjr* throughout tttf
universe tailed ether, accordintr to the rmytiilf
and intensity of whose vibrations is the otffet
of heat produced. The second Uieory is dw U
Mr. J. P. Joule, who found that tbroe was i^
quired to produce heat — ^by tririion for soli^
by compression lor gases, and b> agiution f*
fluids. Forexamplc: he found wi-en he asitatrl
water in a coufiued vessel by paddle-wbcfh.
moved by machinery put in rootifn by a veiicki
falling through a known space, that each powai
ol water would mcrease in teuipi*r«iuiv car
degree Fahrenheit for every foot tl at a w eight 7«f
lb. fell. Mr. Joule has ihereture found ihe bk^
chanical power equivalent to one drp^ec of hetf;
or. in his own words, that h* at and mrcbaidcil
|)ower are convertible one into tbr other, avi
that heat is either the rj« rivm of pondrnMi
particles, or a state of attraction and rn-ohioa.
\ ^^^«&Aa of isntenoiog via vivm. The ttdra thmj
THE ISQUtRKB.
355
is kzioim hj the mune of tht Newtonian, or
ndietini; theory, in which it is admitted that an
imponderable fluid, caloric, radiates /Vom a hotter
bodf, to penetrate between the particles or a
voMrr one, until the temperature of both hae
attained au equilibrium, and that this fluid tra-
vel} with the rapidity of light, namely. 192,000
miles per second. Thus xudiation takes place,
not only from hot and luminous bodies, but aJso
from ice at thirty-two degrees, to solid mei-cury
at thirty-nine degrees."
It is this last theory that explains the reason
why an opaque body, surrounded with a lumin-
ous atmosphere (such as the sun), can produce
the sensation of heat ; the raUiating caloric of the
son's atmospbrre acts upon the telluric atmos- 1
phere, and penetraiea betwixt the particles of
which it is composed, and so producing to us the
MQsation of hear.— Walt eb.
166. Al/ordB Grftk Testament.— Ab Vol. I. is
om of pnnt and undergoing immediate revision,
the same improvemeiiti will doubtless be intro.
doced into the new edition ; and as several im-
l^ortaut works bearing upon the harmony, com-
position, and mutual relation of Ute four uospels
(as Smith's "■ Dissertation on the Origin aud
Connection of the Gospels," Westcott's " Harmony
of the Gospels," Birks' " Ilore Evangelice," and
Stroud's '* New Greek Harmony"), hove appeared
since its first publication, Mr. A. may probably
tie induced to modify or alter some of the opiuions
he has so decidedly maintained in the flrst edi-
tion, antl to which his high and increasing repu-
tation as a scholar has given, and probably will
give, among the theologians of this rouulry and
America, a deep and lasting influence. And
therefore it appears the more necessary that the
student should not become conversant with his
Greek Testament, without al»o knowing what
may be urged against some of tliose conclusions
upon wh'ch he has based the whole superstructtire
of hi.«i theolugy : that he should be warned before-
hand that itie rationalistic element perva<les every
part of Vol. I., to a degree which is likely to be
iojurious to those who have not already made up
their minds as to tlie perfect truthfulness of holy
scripture as a whole, and whose belief is not deep
rooted in the heart as well as in the intellect In
addition, therefore, to oile or other of the works
just named, I would recommend W. C.,irpos.^ibIe,
\o peruse the followiug reviews of Vol. I. — viz.,
those contained in the " Edinburgh Review," Vol.
XCIV., pp. 1—46: KiUo's "Journal of Saci-ed
Literature," New Series, No. III.; and "Chris-
listo Kemembrancer, ' Vol. XXII. ; ef)>ecially the
last, the writer of which is evidently a ripe scholar,
and, though rather high as a churchman, is never-
theless a well-trained and earnest, though some-
what pugnacious theologian. Another critique
upon Vol. II. iias lately appeared in the same
xnainrazi'ie (" Christian Kemembrancer," No.
LXXXI. for July), which I have not yet had an
opportunity of reading myself, but have no doubt,
if the reviewer is the same as in the former ease,
that Mr. A s errors are duly pointe<l out and com-
mented upon in such a manner that the reader
may at least see and avoid them if he will. I'he
chief errors appear to me to be the rationalistic
teijdency alluderl to, especially where it lead.n him,
when two parallel passages contain some apparent
didcrepancie*, to pronounce them irreconcilable,
and biB want of candour towards those who have
attempted to harmonise them. Suppose, now,
that the textus receptus and authorised English
version were to be displaced by Mr. A.'^ adopted
textus, and his English version of it, and that the
passages which he pronounces contradictory were
to be marked as such, or wholly expunged, in all
our Bibles and New Testaments, what could be
expected but that many thousands of simple-
minded people who believe in a verbal inspiration
would be reduced to a state of doubt, and that
infidelity and irreligion would soon be rampant
over the land? Still a change must undoubtedly
before long be made. The autiiorised English
version is in many respects faulty ; it is a not very
accurate trans] auon from a very imperfect and
corrupt Greek text, and were it only lor his de-
voting himself in earnest to a task which has
scarcely been attempted before by an English
scholar, but which is evidentiv of paramount iio-
portance to a right understanding of Scripture, —
viz., the settling of the Greek text upon a good
basis and upon just grounds ; or for his interpre-
tation of that text and commentary upon it, which
tends so much to its elucidation ; or for the mar-
ginal references to verbal and idomatic usage, col-
lected and arranged as they must have been at the
cost of immense labour ; or lor the prolegomena,
in which are discussed, with great abilitv, many
unsettled questions resi)ecting the authorship,
design, time, and place of writing, connexion, Sec.,
of the several books of the New Testament; for
any one of these, Mr. A. must be conKidered to
have rendered good and lasting service to the
biblical hteruture of his country. The following
is all I am able to collect of Mr. A.'s personal
history. He graduated at CambridgK in 1832^
when he took a first class both in classics and
mathematics. In 1841-2 he was Hulsean Lecturer,
and subsequently held the office of examiner in
logic and moral )>hilosophy in the University of
London. Those of his works which (previous to
the appearance of his edition of the "Greek Testa-
ment' ) obtaine<l most notice were: his " Poems,**
some of which, and especially the minor pieces,
are very beaiitirul ; his " Pro-gumnasmata ; or,
Grefk and Latin Exercises ; " and " Lectures on
the Influence of the Fil'ih Commandmrnt," de-
livered in the theatre of tiie City of London School.
He has also published numerous voluni'*^ of ser-
mons, as well OS otiier works. But his edition of
the Greek Testament is undoubtedly hi.H master-
piece, and by that probably, more than by any
thing else he has yet written, will his name be
known to posterity. — F. J. L.
16B. Studien and QvaJ^fication*/or the Scotch
Bar.— The corresponding term in English law to
the Scotch " a<lvocate" is " barrister." As to the
studies and qualifications necessary for a>iruiftsion
to the Scotch bar— i. With regard to Studies —
there is no pnscril>ed course. The students in-
variably attend the three law clasites in the Uni-
veRiiiy of Edmbuigh, viz., the civil law, law of
Scotland, and conveyancing, fur two or three
courses, and nearly as invariably the clasre* of
humanity, logic, and rhetoric. It is n custom of
theirs also to licvote a portion of their lime to a
law office. They thereby derive con^iderable ad-
vantage in observing the practical details of the
profession, such as the Torms of deeds, court and
other papers, &o. To acquire an accurate know-
ledge of the conveyancing branch, attendance in
an oiBce where business of the kind is transBcted
356
TBS nrQUIBKK.
would be alMoIutelyneceuuy. 3. QiialifieatioiM.
Tbe«pp1ie«nt for •dtntosion mutt be twenty years
of age. H« muit be p-ofieient in the Eoi&an and
Scottish laws, and a Latin scholar. He is first
examined on the Roman, or, as it it called by
way of pre-eramence, the civil law, as contained
in jQStiniim's ** Institutes." Be undergoes a
•econd examination at the expiry of a year on
the law of Scotland, from the text in Krskine's
<* Prindptes.** He has to compose a Latin thesis
from a tide in the '* Paudeots," and to defend it
publicly before the fttculty of advocates. The
most encoara|[ittg, if it is uoi the most interesting,
information to an aspirant is, perhaps, the fact
that the judges of tlie supreme court, sheriflb*
principal, and other judicial officers, are selected
from the fhcoHy. The highest official appoint-
ments are filled by members, while all occupa*
tlons of a legal or mental nature are open to
them. Scottish gentlemen often pass lor the
»tatu9 membership eonfrrs upon them in society;
but eldest sons of noblemen, and near relations
of the aristocracy, have not eonsidered praetiee
or its emoluments to be beneath them. Lord
Brougham is a member. — L. M. B.
An advocate Is an indiridual who pleads at the
bar of the supreme coarts of Scotland. His ser-
yioes are .required both in oiril and criminal
actions, and m debating casfs to be decided bT
the judges of court, or by a jury. The Sootcb
advocate corresponds, generally, to the English
barrister. In many instances advocates, or
counsel, as tbey are otherwise called, prepare
the written parts of a case, and give written
opinions on memorials submitted to them, with
the view of guiding parties either as to raising or
defending actions, or r^arding the terms or
roanageraentof trusts committed to them. Whilst
an advocate is permitted to plead in any court,
although he seldom does so in the inferior courts,
as these are called, in the latter the agents or
attorneys usually conduct the oral pleading,
besides the other departments of a case. One
body of aaents, namely, those of Aberdeen, are
allowed, by long usage, to call themselves advo-
oates, and are generally known as such.
The advocates form a society which had its
origin shortlv after the establishment of the
Court of Session in Scotland, or, as it is called,
the College of Justice, after the model of the
parliament of Paris. At first the society did not
consist of mors than ten members, but it gradu-
ally increased, aud now numbers between 400
and 500 members. The advocates, at one time.
acted as attorneys as well as counsel ; but they
soon ceased to do so, and the attorneys were
formed into societies distinct from the society or
faculty of advocates. The faculty has the power
of electing a president or dean, who is familiarly
known as dean of faculty, and this office has
been held, IVom time to time, by very eminent
persons. Like all the other members of the
College of Justice, advocates are under the con-
trol of the senators or judges, who can censure,
suspend, or depose for any conduct derogatory to
the character of the I^al profession. The fkoulty
has been adorned, since its origin iu 1633, by
many names distiuRuisfaed in literature and
politics. lodividuHls have frequently beeome
membfrs of the faculty fbr the sake of the severe
training necessary, and for the knowledge of the
civU law thereby acquired, a knowledge whieh U
aometimea ooDsidcred a raqakrita of a polite edu-
cation. Amongst the judges we need only tfSn
to Jeffrey and Cod^ura, of oar own da^, and
amongst the members of the bar, to Processor
Aytoun, Professor Ferrier, Sir Archibald Aliaoa,
Lord Brougham, Mr. J. Q. Loekhart, aud Pro-
fessor Wilson, as distiagaiabcd in the wotld
of literature. Mr. Christopher, Mr. HoransB.
Colonel MuTB, aa'd Mr. W. F. Mackenaie, may
be meutioDcd as maokbers of the legislatars who
are enrolled as members of ttia fheol^. We
ought not, however, to fofiget in this periodicil
the name of Mr. James Simpson, ao wdll known
for his effbtta for the elevation of the labooriag
dasMs, particularly as regards secolar insfrac-
tion, as one who refleeta much honour 190a the
fkculty.
Although not incorporated by ad of parliaoeot,
the faculty of advociMs possesaea various Id*
portant privikges given by the legialaiore, or
assumed by custom. From tha liwuity are pnr*
tically ehosen the judges or aenatora of the
Supreme Court, and the sfaeriflh (the word bcia;
derived from the Saium rvere, magistraie, or
ruler ; and thetr, to eat divide), the loeal ja^X*^
in the diflferent divisions of tiio country nlM
shires or conntiea; and the lord adroeate, or
public prosecutor, fbrmerly called the kisf t
advocate ; die solidtorgcneral, and several otho'
law officers. As has been already observed, o
advocate has the power of pleadSug in any coort
of law within the kingdom. He does not require
any written mandate or authority, his gown bcia;
understood to supply the place of a wirtlrn du-
date. Unlike other membera of the legal pro-
fession, he is not responsible for any wroag
opinion which he may give, although, of coarw,
it is his interest to give advioe capable of stawhuf
the test of judicial discussion.
The course of study reqaiaita to bccocse m
advocate is long and lahorioua. H« most posae**
a sound knowledge of the principles of the d«il
or Roman law, mod of the law oi' Soollaad, ia>i
must compose a saiislhct(»y tbeaia on a titles'
the Pandects. Advoealea are paid by honorariM
or fees, the amount of which is opttonal with Ihf
employer. They are not preaninad to be paid sf
if tbr work done ; and the auditor or taxing oficcr
of court is not held at liberty to strike offices
which have been paid to counael. Such ideat »
these circumstances imply regarding the SfoaXj
of the office, and the confidence reposed in tbeai-
contribute raooh to maintain iIm ebaraelerof the
men who practise at the Scotch bar. Whitet «
considerable number of advooMas are able to li«
eomfoitably, or attain wealth, "hrieicss barm-
ters" are aa numerous in Seotlaud as in Eaglsai
The politics of the Scotch bar are mainly of t^e
Tory kind. It haa often been diflevlt k* ^
liberal partr to fill the law offioea of the creea
with men of ability, ttom. the aaMdl uambcr l«-
longing to their own political pariy.->T. r~
Edinburgh.
171. ThM PtfnduUm EsperimmL ^ Zxftrh
mental illustralions may be divided into <*«
classes, according as they arc intended to faohn''
the conception of a propooitioa, or fo give fto-
bable or certain procT of iL Of iba latter els« «*
theezperimcntofM.Foneanll. Ilia not desigBerf
to aid us in undciatanding the revoluHen of thr
earth, but to augntnt its a%idenae> It haa, Ivv-
avar, aaeccal dlaailTantsnaa whan wamibti la Ihit
IIIK IN.MI|;l.i:.
.).>«
C:i*l bciolf .1 Ji.ipili.ir UUiii< lli r. '1 1p: phi ll<-!iii').iiU
wliicii it oilers fur ub«Krvation may aruc ironi
SDuUier cause than that ansigned, uaincly, Irom
Mil error uf sunie sort in the ounduct oi'tLc eziw-
rimrnc ; aud, even if that be perfect, the connexion
brtween the cause astlfniod and the ]>henomoiiiin
Tho iii!;i( uity i>i Xi-v txpi.riiin-iii i'i>ii»i>t.«« in Un-
number of uoaditioua to be »ati}itied to preveul
the turuiati«>n of the eluncrated ellipse before re>
ferrvd to. The bob niuai not be made of a metal
•ensibljr magnetie, must be of equal dcnaity
thruugbout. ihuBt be acturately turned and hun(jr,
exhibited must always be very dilKcuU to explain ma^t be let go without tlie application of any
to aach an audience. I will endeavour to make i force, tec. If the lirst condition be not complied.
it •« simple as I can, cauiioniuft J. S. that he
mnnt not consider my explanation complete.
Let tlie line from a to i> he ver-
tical, and at a let a string be held, a
to which i« huufr a weJKht, rr»ting
at b. Kwt the weif^ht to e, and let
it fro earr/iiUf/ ; it will, in r:Uhn^,
pans through 6, rive to d, and con-
tiuiie ti» oscillate in the vaiue pluiie ; c d
but if in letting it go any fun^e be
aqi^plied tending out of (he plane oi ^
the pajter, tlie weight will pass on
one side of d, riite to d (not exactly), and return
on the other Kide of b, thus dc»cri)iing a sort of
«llipiio curve a>>out b. Wt- will !>up])0!»e thi« not
to take place. If the ex]»eTiiiJentrr, i>lill holding
the string at a, walk round i(, ho will tind that
the Wright continues to nkcillatc in the .some
directiuii notwithstanding.
The same may be observed by siispendinv the
weight within a carriage, ami M>tting it to o^ciU
lAte — ^ay iu tlie direction of the Irngth of tlx.'
carriage ; on turning a comer, (he osrilJution will
be across the carriage — that is, in the same dirvc-
Cion as liefbre.
(A). — If tlie same apparattu were fiU5q>o.niled
above one of the poles uf tlie earth, and art to
oscillate, the nirth by its revnlution wiuld not
alter the plane of o^cillntion, wiiieh would, there-
fore, coineide in turn witli evirry moridmii in the
course of twenty-four hours ; an i, to an obser\er
at the pole, will appear to have turned euinpletely
rooml io iwenty-iour hours.
(B). — If ihi) same wen; done at the equator.
wliere the line from th^ puini of suspension to
Che centre of the earth is pt.'riit>ndirular to the
mxb of the earth's nxation, and therefore the
earth docs not twist at all about it, the plane of
oacillation will not aj^parently change its jiosition
at all. If it be set to uM^illatu noilh and south,
or east and west, it w ill continue to do »■>.
At any intermniinte point wi; may. for eonve-
aiih the bob will be attracted out of the plane; a
defect in the second or tLird will cause the retiat-
ance of the air to be greater on one side Uian on
the other.
In most of the attempts to exhibit the pbe
nomenon in London due care was by no means'
taken. Out of four which I witiiesved,onlj one
was of any value.— J. U.
17-i. The CuiiftrHction of an JHJIipsU. — It
would be quite priMiiniure on our part to decide
either for or against the fViend. who asserts that
he has esbiblishid a geometriiid demonstration
by whieh he in able b> construct an ellipsis by
a gtoinctrieal continued niotifn. If we knew tlie
whole of the evidence we should occupy a much
biUerp«isili«m.— G. N.
17:J. Paraphrase o/" .V#7/on.— "Thus did the
priiicc oratigelii sjieuk ; to whointbe adversary thus
nplitd : — Think thou not to avic me with uind
of a«:ry tlireats, whom yet thou canst not awe with
thy deeds. Jiitst thou tunied the least of these
to flii^ht, or cauKt'd them to fall, but that they rose
again iinvimquished ; ami .nhouIdAt thou, then,
hope to deal easier with me; and thou, imperious
being, chiise me hence with threats? Think not,
faNrly. that thus shall ciul the strife, which iJioa
eiillt St evil, hut which we style the .strilie of glory,
and which we mean to win. or turn this heaven
itself into the bell tlioii hiblest ; and to dwell here
at leaitt, if nut to reign. Meanwhile, I do not fly
tliy utiuost force (and join him named Almighty
to tliy aid), but have soui^ht thee far and near."
'J'ho construction of the lirKt three lines " Sta-
ni.slaus" has quoted is a clav^icil constniction
imitated in English. Milton s p<M>(ie f>oul was
moulded in the ancient school, and consequently
Ix-eame saturaiiMl with classic images and classic
htyle. He loved to intnHluce into English com-
pitsitiim clHMMcal forms of expression au^l inver-
sions, which, however, cannot be done without
n-ndering the sense obscure, since the English
language admits of no inflexions. In fact, it Is
cience, consider the motion of the earth as com- j next to an imposssibility to read Milton with any
poaetl of two motions; one about a vertical degree of certainty or pleasure without a know-
tfaruuah Uie point of suspension, with a velocity . ledge of the classics, ho frequent are his allusiuus
pTvportional to the sine of the latitude ; and an- | and so in* erted his style of expression. " To
other about an axis perpendicular to this, with a \ whuin tbus the aiiversary" {rtpUrd, understood
wclocily proportional to tlie cosine. These two ' by ellipsis). Vtde Virgil's " J£neid," lib. i. rer.
7ti, ".Kolus hire contra; * lib. i. ver. :»:tt. "Turn
Venus. ' t.Kid's ** Metamori»hoses," lib. i. fab. 6,
ver. (W, " Atquo ita." Also fiequenily in the
" Iliad." " fif <^,t"— " ns 0nT..."
" Nor think thou with wnid of aery tlirpats to
awe whom wiili deeds tliou canst not. '
motions being supposed to co-exist, are equivalent
to the one rotation about the line through lli'^
poles. With reference to the second of lhe»e
motions, tlie penilulum is cireunutaneed as in U :
4uid witli refcrerice to Uie flnit, a^ in A. The fli-st,
(hen, is the only oue which will have any elfect.
and, as in A, the whole motion will apiiear U\ be
transferred in an opposite direction to Uie plane i
of oscillation of the pendulum. So tliat the ap- !
Sarent resolution of the plane of oscillation in ■
ifferent latitudes will be as the sine of the laii- ;
tuiie. and therefore, in £nglanii, alniut 1 1 \ decn cs :
an hour. Accordingly, Mr. T.(>. Bunt has given I
an account of some experimetits made at Bristol,
in June or July, lti61, exhibiting a rotation of 11.^ . " The prince of angels having spoken tlius, was
degrees, in exact contonnity with the theory. I answered by the adversary in the following man-
" Quis m.igno melius succedat Achilli
Quain per quein magnus Danais successit
Achilles."
Grid's ** Metamorphose Sf" lib. xiii. fab. I,
ver. 131. U'D KLL.
Were we to paraphrase the lines you bare
given, we should do so somewhat as fullows: —
358
TH£ INQUIRER.
Bcr: — ' Do not think with wind or empty threat-
ening* to fri}?hten one whom you cannot affright
with deeds. Have you ever put one of the least
of the^e ray follower* to flight? Perhaps you
have ; nay, you may now have caused one to fall
before you ; but it has been that he might rise
again to prosecute with greater vigour the war.
Do not err, then, by supposing that by your im-
perious threatenings you will be able to chase me
from thit place, and by this simple means to put
an end to the strife, which yon call the strife of
evil, but which tire designate Uie strife of glory,
and which we mean to win, or tuni this heaven
iuielf into the hell which you have fabled ; for we
intend not only to retain oiu* station, but to retain
it free, if not to reign. In the interim I challenge
thy utmost force ; and not only thine, but. joined
with thee, the Ibrre of him whom thou dost call
Almighty, to drive mc from my ptU7>ose; nor
shall I. fly before this double force, for I have
always sought tliy opposition.' "
Secondly. The lines are these : —
1. " So spake the prince of angels ; to whom thus
'2. The aiivtrsary. Nor think tliou with wind
3. Of aery threats to awe whom yet with deeds
4. Thuu canst not."
The difficulty appears to commence with " ad-
fersanf, ' which in the nominative ca.se to a verb
(repUr'l) understood. " Xor think," ^r. " Nor
sometimes begins a sentence, with reference to
some nefiativi: meaning implied." — tSmart. It
here stands for do not. •• Thou" is the nomina-
tive cnso to " think." " To awe" is governed in
the iutinitive by " thinks" and govrrns him, un-
dentood, in the objective case. " Whom" is the
objective case of" canst" awe ; awe is imderstood.
Alany liherticH are allowed in poetry which would
not be tolerated in prose. — G. N.
175. " Spinoza's Philosophical System" is not
80 much designated Aiheinm as Pantheism, and
is generally u-Iopied in modem timcH by those who
believe in the *' eternity of matter." That theory
maintaiuH that there exists in the universe but
one substance, variously modified, whose two
principal a'tributes are. infinite extension and
infinite intelligence. This substance Spinoza
regarded a.s God, and hence his system is called
PantheiniH ; or in other words, that Nature is
God, and that all the various modifications of
Nature are so many parts of God, and that tec
also are parts likewise o/Qod : thus confounding
the material universe with the Supreme Being :
and, as a ronse«]uenceof these views, " he denies,"
to u>e the lan^uage of Van Mildert, '*a Provi
dence. scofls at tlie doctrine of heaven and hell,
and of evil ^jiirits, rejiresents all divine worship
a.s uugaiorj' and ridiculous, as vain ituperstiiion
the expectatiun of rewards or punishments in a
future stale ; and, like all other unbelievers, he
showed his ba«eneM, by making a profession of
Cbrisiianity at the very moment he was endea-
vouring to stab her to the heart."— Walter.
176. Ancient Lanffuof/ei. —1st. ThcVedas, &c.
of the Hindoos are written in Sanscrit, the old
language of H industan. 12nd. Dr. Yates' " G ram-
mar'" (IBs.) an I "Dictionary' (55«.^ are consi-
dered very good works for the acquirement of the
anguage, and may be obtained through order of
any good bookseller. 3rd " The 6'op/#c.' suys Mr.
Do ne. ill Smith's Diet. o( Gr. and Kom. Geog.,
M. r. JEgyptuMf *< ihc lukguagt ot Om ix«9ii>(e Ockm-
tian population of Egypt, is now univenaOy
acknowledged to be substantially the same as the
old Egyptian. It is imperfectly understood,
since it has long ceased to be a living »pec^.
Yet the ultimate analysis of its elements shows it
to have been akin to the Semitic, and derived
from a common source." The Coptic of the pre-
sent day is, then, materially the ancient Efyptso ;
but written in Greek characters, with some f<pwoM
Egyptian ones retained, for which the Greek lao-
guage had no eqidvalent. It is now preserr^d.
and has to be studied in the christian litunrin o(
Egypt. Wilkintion's " Ancient £gypiiaii». ' or
Kenrick's *' Ancient Egypt," will supply " Soluo'
with all necessary information about ** <.>ld E^ypt."
Kenrick's work is highly valued. For a fiuII
work, "Ancient Egypt' (tki.), published by tbr
Religious Tract Society, Ls very iu>etul. 4th. Is-
dia, in a wide extent of tlie name, was, it ii
thought, civilized somewhat earlier than Efrypt.
which probaldy derived its civilization from Inuis
when tlie descendants of Hnxn populated th«
country. Aih. The inscriptioni^ of Uie NiiKVfb
sculptures are in the rt/nei/orwf cAararfrr,baT.«
yet, it is not possible to tell in what lan^n^n*
they are written. The results of Major Basbs-
8on'!« stucly of Uie euneifomi cbamcter are not a»
yet entirely published, but probably will be •o<tl
i'or these " Solon" must patiently w aiu— J. B.M-C.
179. The Order in which to prosetntr Matkt^
matical Studies. — "An Earnest Stutlent sbeuU
first make himself complete master of nrithatetc
and then proceed with algebra and Euclirl ivmdl
tuneonsly. When he has mastered the eleinntt
of algebra, as far as the binomial tiieorem, hemaj
take up plane trigonometry and the elen:ent« t4
mei-hanics. I would adviae him to sro no Urthet
until he has thoroughly mastered the abov^ rA-
jects, constantly recurring to one white smdyiM
another ; else he will keep forgetting mudi ^
what he haH leanit. and waste inut-h time mk
labour. He may next pn<c««d with the Mibjrtfr
in tlie following order,— spherical irigonomftn.
geometrical conic sections, elements ot analytkil
geometry, elements of hydrostatics. Nrwtmf
Principia. He should then take up tlie eleicec!*
of the differential and integral calculas. «btri>
will enable him to proceed, at once, in whatrtfr
order he plea.*^, to Uie higher parlh i.f i.K-chtuo
and hydrostatics, optics and a-^trrtnomy , &c. Tkr
following works are, I believe, mont apprrwd,
and most of them I can strongly r«*coiDiDnid,
from my own acquaintance with them :— EieiB«'
lary Writers, Colenzo's " Arithmetic" nnd " Kev;
Colenzo's •♦ Algebra." Part I , and ** Kry ; ' Potti^'
(standard edition of j " Euclid ; " Cutenzo's '• Trt-
gonometry," Part II., and "Key;" HuOler't
"Geometrical Conies;" Hymers " AnalytKil
Geometry ; " Phears' " nydn>staticK ; ' £vsm
•• Newton ; " Todbuuter's " Diifrr» ntial and Itf*-
gral ChIciiIus." The higher works rrqaiivd
would be: — Peacock's ** Algebra:" Wibda's
'* Trigonometry ;" Eamshaw's" ** Statics ; " Wit
son's " Dynamics;" Salmon's "Analytical Co
nics," and "Higher Plane Curves;'* Miller's
" Hydrostatics and Hydrodynamies ; " GrilBa'i
"Optics;'" Hymers' "Astronomy"
Some of even these worka are called elen»-
tary. and imleed, properly so, when we cunuikr
the vast extent of some of the aabjecta.
The following companii'nm are almoai iodttpn^
mXAa*. — Goodwin'a ** Problema^'* and **Kej;'
THK TOUKO STUDEUT AMD WBTTBR's A8SXSTAHT.
359
Wrigl«y's ** Examples ; " Davidson's (6».} or Uut-
vm» (I8«.) " Mathemittical Tables. "
Physics need not be studied together with ma-
tfaematies : bat tliey add greatly to the advanisKe
sad delight obtained fVoni the study of the muthe-
msties. Dr. Lardner's ** Handbook of Natural
Philosophy and Astronomy," in 3 vols., of which
ToL III. is not yet published, is the most desirable.
In oondusion, matliematical study may be pur-
sued to the highest deppree possible, and conti-
nually will it be disciplme of the mmd. If " An
Earnest Student" have health, lime, and taste for
the study* he may pursue it till he arrive at the
learning of Newton, and still will he find amplo
material for discipline of the mind, in fiu^er and
deeper researches.— J. B. M'C.
CliB ^Ettng ItttlJtttt BDi Wxittfs Slssistiittl
LOGIC CLASS.
Junior. — What does Bacon term idols 7 What
are idoU qf the tribe f Describe their chief species.
What are idols of the cave ? Describe their chief
speiies. Whnt are idols of the fonim 7 What are
id(>l» of the theatre ? Describe their chief species.
Provectior. — Exercise No. IX., Vol. II.
Senior. — Whence arises our belief or knowledge
of the objective ?
GKAMMAR CLASS.
Exercises in Grammar. No. XVIIT.
Junior THviaion.
Perfonn Exercise No. IX., Vol. III. p. 397.
Senior Division.
Make a form like the one given, and place the
Terbe governed in the infinitive mood by verbs,
Che verbs governing them, and the infinitive*
and participles having case, in their respective
columns.
The rising of the sun was very glorious. To
get good and to communicate are the business ot*
life. My lather's hearing is not so good as for-
merly. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor
the ear with hearing. Before leaving town I am
to call at the office. Being from home at this
season of the year is very inconvenient. For me
to live is Christ, and to die is gain. To prepare
a perfect statement requires time. Doing jujitly,
loving mercy, and walking humbly with God, inp
eludes the whole duty of man. 1 thought to have
a long holiday, but my employer wishes me to
return on an early day. Obedience ought to be
prompt. The new world is said to have been
discovered by Columbus. It ought to have been
named after him. 1 ought to have been here yes-
SYNTAX.
KcLB III. — One verb governs another in the infinitive mood.
Rc'LE IV. — ^The infinitive mood and present parddple are sometimes used as nouns; and, a%
nouns, have case.
Infinitives.
Infinitives and Participles
having ca&e.
MODEL EXERCISE No. VI.— Hrfe Vol. III. p. 278.
NOUNS.
Pbopeb.
Nominative and
Obje<^ve.
Possessive.
Fsrmer*s Boy
I^Ioomfield
Pilgrim's Progress
Banyan
St James's Churdt
Englishmen
St. Helena's Isle
Britain
Capua
Italy
Moses'
Cromwell's
Wellington's
C«sar*s
Napoleon's
Uanibal's
Common.
Nominative and Objective.
father
children
house
dog
wings
feaUiers
books
number
autions
lightning
victuries
warrior
legislator
history
wars
interest
Possessive.
servant
bat's
prison
master's
books
boy's
honour
monarch's
sons
doctor's
book
author's
lifeblood
wintering
tyranny
ruin
principles
man
soul
heart
. footsteps
strand
360
THB TOUKO mUDmST AKD WBITKB'S ASSnTABT.
terdaj, bat circaniBtanees prwented. To do that
in the absenoe of yoor iDMter wiU usuredlj giTO
offence. I have an invitation to go to Hampton
Court on Saturday. Ton never need to aslc him
to do a kind action. He will do it without ask-
ing. I cannot think of proceeding without his
perraisaion. Reading is an invaluable acquisition.
I like to sing and play on a musical instrument.
To pardon those absurdities in ourselves which
we cannot suffer in others, is neither better nor
worse than to be more willing to be fools our-
selves than to have others so.
A large portion of the enormous quantity of
salt annually consumed is obtained by allowing
the water of the ocean to be evaporated from
shallow pits or pans due near the sea shore, and
into which it is allowed to flow at staled inter-
vals; the solid salt is thus left encruafiug the
bottom and sMes, anS is removed to sheds to
drain and undei|^ subsequent pnriiioatioDS.
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— VI.
QueiUon 47. The fifth instafanents£l,(XK)-
£700 =£300. .'. Timeg
21K> xd+^UOxB+ 150 X 10+ 150x11 +300 xlg_
1000
9*55 months.
Abebgwxli.
QuesUiyn 48. By the question :—
Interest of £100=£.5 for one year.
.•. Interest of £100 for 9-55 months =£3 IQs. 7d.
Then, as £1*3 19s. 7d. : £3 19s. 7d. : :
£1,000 : £.J8 59. 4id. ,VA='***''°'*"*' *"^
£l,000-£38 5s. 4id. i%Vr=^»61 >4»- ^f »• :IU=
present worth. Ea Raschio.
QueMtion 49. A =60, r=-06, and ii=s7 ;
« A r, 1 ) 60 f, 1 _
=:334-94288= £334 lbs. lOJd- W. C. D.
Question 50. A's work per day=
±andA+B=^
1 1 3
... B-s work per day=:-^j—^=j^5
.-. Time taken by B= jj- =46| days.— J. F. L.
Question 51.* The greatest common measure of
"^'^ is 142857.
999999
42Sr,7l 1428573
•'• 99yyU'J'*' 142*37" f
Question 59. Let A be the first place of obser-
▼ation; B the second; C the top of the tower;
and D the bottom.
.-. Angles :-B A C=a6« 46', A C B=3«» 31',
A B 0=149'' 44', B C D=:59<» 44', C D B=
110»20', DBC=9«5b'.
.'. As sin. 3« 31' : 500 links : : sin. SG" 45' :
3668-91 linkssBC.
* From some unkuoTm cause a figure was
omitted in this question.
Again. As sin. I10» W : 366B-91 : : sm. 9* M' :
674-96 links sheight of Iha tower. Sappbb.
QuesttMt 53. As the three aaglca of every tri-
angle are equal to two right angies ("Eudid,'
book i. p. 32).
.-. 180«-(60« 35'+70*» 180 = *»• ^=ttu«i «n«^-
.*. As sin. 49« r : 800 links : : sm. 60* 33r :
925-72= side opposite angle 60« 3ft'.
Then, letting fall a perpendicular from the ihit I
angle upon Uke given base, we have —
As sin. 90" : 921-72 : : 70* 18' : 867-77, the per-
pendicular, or breadth of the rircr. Sappf s.
Question 54. Area of circle =
100* X '7854=7854 square yards ;
area of lnue=area of circle— area of segments:
height of segments = 35 ;
35 diameter of circle = 100 ;
.'. Y-— s*d5=height of a similar segment of ;^
'^ circle whose diameter is 1.
area of a segment whose height is *25=15%t^.
which, multiplied by lQ0* = 15-i5-46=areaor sr.-
ment required, 1535-46x2=3070*92.
.-. area of lune= 7854 -3070-92 =4783-0fl sq. yi< •
and total quantity = 7854 +4783-08=12fi37 0e» yd v
=2-610'J6 acrea. W. C. D.
aUESTIONS FOR SOLUTION.— VIII.
65. What will a roan save out of an incoiM ci
£200 a year, whose bouKebold expenses arr £'
per month of four weeks ; rent and taxes. £oO per
annum ; personal expenses, 2s. Od. per day ; tai
incidentals, 5s. per week 7
66. Received, £194 18a., in sovereigns, bi:'
sovereigns, crowns, half-crowns, shillings, pen^.
and farthings, of each an equal number. ^^
was that number?
67. Sold goods to the amount of £7S0 10». ^t.,
payable as rollows : — One-fourth at two mratbv
one-seventh at three mouths, one-sixth sS ('^
months, three-eighths at nine months, and tt*'
rest at twelve monihs. What must be diTC«>crk<i
for present payment, at 5 per oeut. per anuum *
68. The chord of an are » 21 inches, snJ it
height 0. What is the diameter of the cirrle ?
69. Required, the weight of a copper pip*^ ^'
bore of which is half an inch, and the tbi(-fcD4;«*
of the copper one quarter* the specific gn^i?
being 8878. .
70. What is the sum of 213 terms of aa snu-
metical series, of which the first term is 7, sL^i ^
common diSercnce 5 7
71. Required, the content in impeiial p^"^
of a cyliudrical vessel, whose depth is 70 in^**
and the diameter of the base 48 inchea.
72. What is the content in cubic le^t of ^
octagonal pyramid, the height of which is ^
feet, and the side of tlie base 20 inches?
73. A garden, 300 feet lon^ by «0, ^^^^
surrounded by a wall, contains a walk «Jx »*
wide, which runs parallel with tJie wall, so »>>■
enclose an area equal to Uiat lying hei««eo *
walk and the wall. The width of this latitf p***
is required.
74. Given, *«+y+»= 6^) ^ . ,
y*+A + XB 99\u>BaA*9 9ads-
*«+y+*aBia7j
lijlttnrir.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "tHB ART OF EBASONnrO.*'
No. XXII.— METHOD.
Metiiod is not an end, bat a means. It is architectonic, schematic, legislatire. It
informs us how a purpose may be accomplished. Success is the result of the adoption of
the best means, and the persevering employment of the most adequate instrumentalities.
The best method is that which enables us most easily, certainly, and expeditiously, to
realize the end in view. To have a clear and distinct conception of the end or purpose to
be wrought out, is an essential requisite in the construction of a proper and advantageous
method. Hence method is a reflective process — a process by which thought and its
activities are concentred on the attainment of some object, the execution of some design,
the elaboration of some scheme spontaneously determined upon. The right method must
bmit itself by the bounds of the possible and the hiotcahle — must restrain itself within the
capacities and powers granted to the mind by which it is to be employed. The human
iDtellect is encompassed by a vast wilderness; through that it must cut a pathway to the
truth, or in some other manner establish a conductor through which the communications
of truth may be received. Question and answer must be conveyable with fidelity, rapidity,
and ease; and a facility in reading the cipher employed must be speedily attainable. "A
Method is tkpath oftrcantitf* but, to be a safe path, it must be specially adapted to lead
to the desired end. So to adapt it requires discernment, discrimination, and knowle<lge.
Bightly to employ it requires perseverance, regularity, and practice; a resolute and steady
determination to proceed along unfalteringly towards the goal — to walk firmly and con-
stantly forward till the destination has been reached.
Method is order— articnlation or memberment, not coacervation ; scientific cognition and
arrangement^ not irregular groupmg and massing. It is the selecting, adapting, and con-
florting of all (or so many as is necessary of) the individuals which compose the whole
aggregate mass of any peculiar kind of objectivities, in such a manner as shall present
them to the mind in that particular scries by which the most intelligible view of them, in
relation to the predominating purpose, may be acquired. The difficulty of eliminating a
method increases with the complication of individuals (in induction) and of ideas (in
deduction), as the case may be. Method is a predetermination of parts — the imparting of
coherency and system h priori to the elements (whether ideas or individuals) which com-
poee a whole in comprehension or extension, and hence it is that we define " Method* to
be " lAe arrangtmaU of our idecUf i. e., the results of our perceptimty^ judgment^ and
ratioematum, im siieA a vumner as shall best facilitate the aoqyisitkmf remembrance, and
commumcatum of hunwUdge^ *
•^~^-^'^-^— ^— — ^^— ^^^— — ^— ^-^— ^— ^^ - — ,
• FWt ** The Art of Reasoainf ," ehoptea zix. and sz.
2r
362 RBBTORIC. — JIO, XXII.
The power of arranging ideas clearlj and distinctly, of expressing them with force, eise,
and STstematic coherency, and of avoiding obscorit j, confusion, and misapprehension, is s
most yalnable endowment. In many cases there exists in minds a special aptitude fv
methodising and digesting thoaght, for exhibiting in proper sequence and accurate ooIl»'
cation the seyeral ideas which relate to any given topic; while in others this power seems
totally absent. While, however, we admit this fact, we unhesitatingly aver that no mto
can so adequately represent his thoughts as those who study the science of method. To
the naturally endowed it adds the culture of art, while to the naturally de6cient it impsrts
the regulative and legislative rules of the understanding. To the one it supplies, in »
great measure, the mental deficiency, and to the other it gives the polish and dexteritj
of scientific practice. To either and to both its advantages roust be great. Method is
to the arnmgement and communication of knowledge what instruments and machines sra
to the several arts, viz., a series of expedients to make amends for human weakness— t
collection of assistants and auxiliaries. It is our intention, in the succeeding psges, to
develop briefly the principles of Rhetorical Method — the modus cpenmdi of thoaght-
exposition.
The principles and laws of Method, so far as they concern themselves with the seqni-
sition and knowledge of truth, have been, by universal consent, relegated to Logic*
Knowledge and truth are gained as the results of Reasoning — the active operatioQ of
thought, regulated by formal laws, to which, in thinking, the mental powers musk neces-
sarily conform. These laws form the primary philosophy; that from which, or throogh
the agency of which, all the sciences and arts which issue from the just and true exercise
of thought are evolved. Rhetoric supposes M possession of knowledge and truth, and the
desire to communicate them; hence its proper province begins where that of Logic ends.
They are distinct, though contiguous, territories. The primary purpose of Rhetoric is tbt
exposition of thought, ». s., knowledge and truth, or what is supposed to be so. Bat
communication depends on arrangement for success; for without arrangement tbi
purposes of communication cannot be properly effectuated. There are, therefore, two psrts
of Rhetorical Method, viz., Arrangement and Communication.
Of s^{0, which is an element of Method, we have already disooaiaed at some length ;t
it will not, therefore, be necessary for us at present to say much on thai subject, although
in the sequel it may be found advisable to supply one or two additional hints oo the
methodology of style. Meanwhile, we are desirous of confining our attentioa to the gesenl
and primary Laws of Method.
*'Laws," says Montesquieu, ^in their most general significatbn, an the neocsssrx
relations which arise out of the nature of things.**^ *' Every process baa laws, knova or
unknown, according to which it must take place," s. s., which preside over its derelopaeot
and regulate its manifestations. Laws may, therefore, be defined as the rules aooordi^
to which actions are subordinated to the production of particoUir ends, and by which they
^ " The Art of Reaaoning," ohapten xix. and xx.
♦ Fui« ante, Not. VII. to XII.
« ** Lea lob, dant la tigniM«Btion la phit ^tendoe. sont les rspports n^usMslws ivi dMvtnt 4» It
nature des ohoset."— « BifrU4e§ ioto," Bv. i, dian 1.
S63
are Tcgulated to the best means of acconiplishing those ends. To suirej objectivities of anj
kind in the light of the Imws which thej obej is the onlj true waj in whieh man is entUed
*' To look on truth, unbroken and entire ;
Truth in the system— the ftill orb — where trnths.
By truths enlightened and sustained, afford
An arch-like strong foundation, to sum)ort
The incumbent weight of absolute, complete
Conriction."
Conviction or persoasion is the aim of the rhetorician. Let us proceed to review a few
of those laws which must be attended to by the person who is desirous of affecting other
minds bj the exposition of his thoughts.
1st. find a possible, sure, or granted starting point.
** In discourse, as in trigonometry," sajs a French author, " the first operation must be
to lay down a base.** Begin vrith statements, well-known and obvious, which may be
readily comprehended, and are likely to be coincided in without dispute or hesitation.
From the known or granted the origination of a pathway may be attempted, and progress
is probable; but from the unknown or disputable no true advancement can result. A
known quantity must be postulated and given to make an equation possible ; and a known
or granted truth is ifecessary as the point of origination in any debate, discourse, or other
exposition of thought. A fixed and determinate point of departure must be settled or
posited before two can walk together and agree. Conviction and persuasion imply move-
mmt; and, as the lever cannot operate without a fulcrum, so neither can conviction or
persuasion work their ends without a possible, sure, or granted starting-point. Con-
currence is an element of power, which gives to future operations the possibility of success.
No exchange of thought can take place until a concurrence regarding what shall be
considered as the standard of exchange can be mutually determined upon. This gained,
negotiations are at once possible; Hie postuhta of discourse are satisfied.
2nd. Have a fixed and determinate aim.
Aimlessness and random shot are never capable of producing calculable results. Purpose
18 the one thing on which success depends. To have a distinct intention, and to pursue
that imflinchingly, is the only means of securing effectiveness of action. An aim signifies
an effect foreseen, desired, and spontaneously determined upon, which we are desirous
of producing. When we have secured our stand-point, and have determined our aim, we
are in a position which renders effectual and proportionate efforts possible; we are then
capable (potentially) of making the means concur, most directly and certainly, to the pro-
dacti(m of a given result. All aims ought, of course, to be proportioned to our power and
means, otherwise we are guilty of foolishness; when, however, means and power are nnited
in, and directed to, the effectuation of a given, fixed, and determinate aim, we have every
reason to be filled with " the fixed persuasion of success."
dcd. Employ causes adequate to the production of the intended effects.
The words "cause and effect" relate, in their signification, to a succession of fiicts conv
nected with, and arising out of, each other. Hence it is that the poet says, —
" Felix qui potnit renun cognosoere causes ; ***
* Havpy is he who is able to know the emtct of things.
364 BHBTOBio. — ^iro. ZXII.
for xightlj to know causes and their effects imparts to mam the lordship of natnre; ai
Baoon says, ^ Nature cannot otherwise be commanded, except bj obeying her laws."
Fitness, proportion, design, and order, are the prodacts of law operating with an aim to
produce effects. The principle of causation is eveiywherc potent — not leas in the reahns
of mind than those of matter. Intelh'gence and will are the motire powers of the speaker.
To use these adequately to convince the intellect and persuade the will of the hearers is
the grand problem given to the orator to work oat. This cannot be accomplished without
the employment of causes adequate to the production of that effect.
4th. Observe a proper concatenation in the exposition of thought.
All things of like kind are linked together. To observe these several links, and exhibit
them — to keep them continually in view — is one great means of thinking ooirectlj, sod
hence of presenting a dearly-connected notion of the ideas which we wish to impress upoi
other minds. Without this attention to the due and proper colligation of thought to
thought,
*' Coonexion ia no more;
Checked Beason halts, her next step wants support;
Striving to climb, she tumbles from her scheme ;*'
and must, consequently, fail in the attainment of her object.
5tb. Observe proportion in the exposition of thought.
Each thought in each discourse ought to possess a certain and definite relation to tbe
working out of the end or purpose for which we speak or write, and ought to have a
relative degree of importance attached to it, varying in a ratio with its adaptation to the
precise conveyance of our meaning, or its capadtj to aid in the accomplishment of oar
design. This law alike reprimands an excessive overcrowding of thoughts in a sentence
or paragraph, and a too minute dismemberment of thought therein. The great for^rouad
thought must stand out prominently on the canvas, and the subordinate ones most be
grouped with appropriate light, shade, colouring, and perspective, around it. Thus alone
can proportionate coherency be imparted, and the mind be enabled to comprehend dis-
tinctly the true relations and correlations in which thoughts stand united to each otho*.
6th. Adopt a just medium — avoid extremes.
The neglect of this rule introduces disproportion, and disqualifies the mind for forming
proper judgments regarding the matters presented to it. Pushing any idea into uodae
prominence, and arrogating to it an importance higher than it deserves, interferes pre-
judicially with the laws of mental vision, and yields a distorted, and consequently untnie,
image of the thought All things are related to each other; and the farther we depart
from the truth regarding anything, the greater difficulty will be experienced in proviog its
accordance with the mutual coherencies which these relations introduce amongst things.
A strict and rigid adherence to the truth is the secret by which the rhetorician may be
able to turn to eveiy eye ** the happiest attitude of things."
7th. Synthesis and Analysis ought, in general, to be conjomtly employed by the rheto-
Hdan.
It is gratifying to watch the processes of discovery, and to unagbe that we are eUbo>
rating truths or eliminating principles from facts that are patent to our own obaerratioB;
and hence, when a oommon startiDg-pomt is gained, it ia generally adTisabla to kad up to
RHETORIC. — iro. xzn. 365
a higher trath from that lower, and then show how this higher truth reapplies to and
incorporates that which was emplojed as the elementary condition of concorrence. For
the mind of the hearer or reader feels gratified by being made a confrere in the elabora-
tion of the tmth or truths thus presented to his view. He feels as if each step were taken
firmly, because his own eye has been employed in directing his own steps. The farther
exposition of the reason of this rule, however, will be found in our articles " On Method,"
in the " Art of Beasoning."
8th. DLSculties ought not to intimidate.
DifSculties may exist in ourselves, t. e., be internal, and then their proper name is weak-
nesses; or they may dwell in others, i. e., be external, and then they are called obstacles.
With r^ard to the former, we can only say, in the language of the poet, —
" Fail !— FaU ?
In the lexicon of jrouth, which Fate reserves
For a bright manhood, there is no such word
If we determine bravely and labour assiduously — if we aspire and strive — ^there can be
few difficulties in ourselves which we may not overmaster.
" Even as drink and food
Become our bone and flesh, the aliments
Kurtoring our nobler part, the mind — thoughts, dreams, -
Passions, and aims — in the revolving cycle
Of the great alchemy at length are made
Our mind itself."
The other-mind difficulties are not so readily overcome; they relate either to the
intellect or passions of others. If we have truth, and study aright the best method of
expounding it, we must ultimately gain the victory.
" Think not our passions from corruptiou sprung,
Though to corruption now they lend their wings.
All Reason justly seems divine. I see,
I feel a grandeur in the passions too,
Which speaks their high descent and glorious end.
Which speaks them rays of an eternal fire."
The foregoing are the predominating principles which ought to be borne in mind in
affairs of Method. A more minute treatment of the means by which conviction and
persuasion may be produced we reserve for a succeeding paper. The following tabular
synopsis of the principles of proof will form the ground-plan of our next paper, and may
be taken as an outlme of the method and manner in which that topic will then be
treated: —
is riFK T^AI'TISM OF IM ANJ^ IN llAKMo.N\ ^v 11 II llli; S( I; 1 1' J I 1; Is ?
Wi,
Hfliginn.
IS THE BAPTISM OF INFANTS A PRACTICE IN HABMONT WITH THE
SCRIPTURES ?
NBOATIVS ARTIGLE^IV.
This interesting and important debate
has now arrived at a point at which the
reader will naturally inquire, Which side of
the question am I to take as the right one?
Which can produce the strongest scriptural
evidence in its support? All we can do is,
in an humble waj, to aid his inquiry, hoping
that the discussion will not lead to fruitless
controversy, but to a satisfactory solution of
the question; and this we deem the more
important as the subject is a religious one.
Bearding a point of history or politics, it is
comparative^ unimportant what view of the
case we may take; but where the Bible b
coQcemed, where divine truth is at stake, we
must take our stand upon one bide or the
other, and therefore it behoves us, with the
greatest carefulness, to see that the views we
entertain are consistent with the high stand-
ard to which we refer. It is useless for people
to Bay that Uiis is a mere matter of ceremony,
and so of no importance; fur we find that in
the present day this single question of bap-
tism has been the means of hitroducing one
of the most insidious and soul-destroying
lieresies that has ever been invented: we
allude to the fallacious doctrine of baptismal
regeneration. We ought then, as lovers of
truth and enemies of error, to give the sub-
ject our best attention, taking as our touch-
stone of argument nothing but the word of God,
In giving, then, our opinion upon this
subject, our only wish is to vindicate, as far
«s we are able, the character of the Bible,
and to show that those who hold infant bap-
tism hold it in defiance not only of the whole
spirit of the New Testament, but in direct
opposition to the example and command of
oor Lord. AVe feel the necessity of speaking
phunly upon this point, seeing that in the
present day there is too much of an opposite
character. Error is smoothed down i^d oon-
nived at rather than exposed, because people
are afraid of the truth. To listen to the
truth would bring upon them too much
sacrifice, so they are glad of any pretext to
quiet their consciences and remain as they
are. It was the open avowal of the Rev.
Baptist Noel, after he left the Church of
England, that while in that communion he
never examined the subject of baptism for
fear he should be led to tmpleoicaU amclu-
tions. There is but too much reason to fear
that this is the case with very many of those
who practise and conform to infant sprinkling
(for we do not hold it to be haptism^ though
for the sake of convenience we call it so).
They do not examine the matter in the light
of God's word, for fear their convictions should
come in the way of some church appointment,
or cUsh with some comfortable position in
society.
In the present instance, however, an appeal
is made to the Bible, and we rejoice that it
is; though, in reading the preceding articlw
in favour of infant baptism, we were de-
siring to see what scriptural evidence could
be produced, we must say that we have found
none. We may be convicted of oversight;
but we cannot help thinking that such evi-
dence produced in a court of law, supposing
the case about to be tried, would be con-
sidered ingenious, but as not to the point.
It might be said, " Sir, your abstract reason-
ing may be very acute; but we want evidence
to the fact. Here is an institution, called
infant baptism, which you declare is one
authorized by the Bible, founded by our
Saviour, and practised by his apostles; of
course you can give me chapter and versa
where it is thus authorized, — the injunction
of our Saviour, and instances where his dis-
ciples obeyed that injunction, and actuallj
did sprinkle or baptize infants. Of course^
sir, yon cannot say that I ask too much, for
I only require what you profess yourself able
to give me, namely, a full and clear autho-
rization from your Bible for the institution
which you practise as being thus authorized.**
Now, I very much doubt whether any de-
fender of infant baptism could give a satis-
factory reply to this. The preceding writers
defending it certainly could not, as their
conclusions, with a few exceptions, are based
368
IS TUB BAPTISM OK INFANTS A PlLACnCB*
upon entire sapposition. They tvppote
everything ; they prove nothing. They
think infants were baptized, becaose they
might have been. That is the sam of their
argument; bat it is not sufficient for an
honest opinion. We do not want probability,
vre want certainty, npon the question. Now,
the utmoH that can be shown is, that there
is a postibility of infants having been bap-
tized. Although we doubt it, we will just
grant it for the sake of argument. Now, we
are certain that adults were baptized, because
it is saidy ^. We will not speak, for the
present, upon any qualifications; but we just
say that they were individuals capable of
knowing and judging of their own actions.
Well, thq question, for the present, is of eer-
totn<y against mere probcAUUy, Which
would a reasonable man take? If he wished
to go right, he would, undoubtedly, take
what was certain in preference to what was
merely probable. And yet the defenders of
infant baptism choose to take the probable,
rather than the certain, course. They know,
they confess, that adults were baptized in
the primitive church; in fact, it is impos-
sible to read the preceding articles without
being convinced of it; and yet they now
refuse to admit them to the rite. When
they do not refuse, it is the exception, not
the rule, and only when it has not been per-
formed in their infancy.
The case stands thus: — The primitive
church baptized adults; the English Church,
with some of the dissenters, baptize infants.
Any reasonable person must at once see that
these two are contrary. What is there to
justify the alteration? Ought not baptism
now to be what it was then f Was it not
intended for rational and responsible indi-
viduals as much as the Lord's supper? We
never think of administering the communion
to infants. Why should we baptism? Surely
they have as much right to the one ordinance
as the other. If we are to suppose infants
were baptized, we might as well suppose
they took the Lord's supper. If there being
no mention of their having been baptized is
no argument against them, we might as well
admit them to the other ordinance, there
being no mention that they were excluded.
The defenders of infant baptism may laugh
at the idea, but it would be quite as rational.
As much as the Lord's supper was only
intended for those who are capable of under-
standing religion, and of commemorating the
death of Christ, so baptism vras only meant
for those who believe, or profess to believe,
the truths of that same religion.
B. S. has the c(mfidenoe to say that
believers' baptism is an impassibility; and—
what still more startled us — ^he affirms that
"it did not exist even in the days of the
apostles.'* Then, does B. & mean to set
himself up as superior to scripture, or does
he purposely orerlook everything which
might attack his prejudices in fiivoor d
in&nts? He does not think there ever
existed such a thing as believers* baptism.
What sort of thing does he inoagine baptism
was, then? A dumb show? A meanin«:less
ceremony? We inll let the Bible iidform
him. He dares, in the face of the folloiriiig
evidence, to say there was no such thing io
the time of the apostles as believers' baptism.
We do not, howeyer, consider him in the letst
degree more culpable than the rest of those
who defend infant baptism, for no one can
conscientiously adopt that practice without
dtfbelieving in believers' baptism. The fol-
lowing is to show that there was such a thing
as believers* baptism : —
"Then said Paul, Jdin verily baptized
with the baptism of repentance, saying note
the people, that they should believe <hi him
which should come after him, that is, as
Christ Jesus,** Acts xix. 4. ^ But when the/
believed Philip preaching the things cob-
ceming the kingdom of Ood, and the name
of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men
and women" (no infants, observe), Acts riii.
12. "And Crispus, the chief ruler of the
synagogue, believed on the Lord with all bii
house; and many of the Corinthians hearing
believetl, and were baptized,** Acts xriiL 8.
What can the defenders of infant baptism
say to this? Here it is said — not in one
isolated case, but in several, and I eoqM
mention more — that men and women, sod
those believerSj teere baptised. It is cktr,
then, from scriptural evidcDoe, that it is s
deliberate falsehood to affirm that believers
were not baptized. It is nothing to tfa«
point, that some individuals who happened
to be b^tized did not turn out welL Bccsvse
there happened to be a Simon Magns arooofsC
them, is no aigument that thexe was no such
thing as believers' baptism; for we haves
Judas amongst the twelve disciples. Wen
there, then, no such persons as the twdvt
ni BARMOsrr with tbb scbiftubes ?
36d
discipIeB; or did the sin of Jadas have tmj-
thiDg to do with them? Besides, Simon
himself was onlj baptized upon avowing his
belief in the gospel : that he tnrned from it
afterwards is quite another matter. In Acts
\'iii« 13, it is said, '* Then Simon himself be-
liered also: and when he was baptized, he
eontinned with Philip, and wondered, behold-
ing the miracles and signs which were done."
" Glowr,'' in his article, even goes so far as
to say that, although scripture is silent upon
the subject of infant baptism, it is no reason
whj it should not be practised. Of course,
we shall not presume to answer such an
argument, as the whole question rests upon
the scriptures giving evidence upon the
pmnt. But, not cUtogeiher satisfied with
abstract notions and mere suppositions, both
'^Glowr"' and B. S. do venture to quote
scripture. Let us hear what it is. "Go
and teach all nations, baptizing them," &c.
Supposing this were given as evidence in
favour of infant baptism in a court of law,
one might naturally saj, ** Pardon me, sir;
but it is against the rule to wander from the
question. I understood you were to show
us that mfaiUs only were the proper subjects
for baptism ; am I, then, to conclude that yon
ooosider *all nations* to mean 'all infants,'
and no one else? For while yon baptize
infants, remember you refuse to baptize
adults; and you cannot say that this passage
justifies such a construction. Now, in my
opinion, the most important part of a nation
consists in its men and women; and should
I send you to-morrow to another nation on
a mission of responsibility and importance,
without specifying individuals, should you
consider yourself a sane man if you delivered
that mission to a multitude of infants, re-
gardless of the rest of the rational commu-
nity? Now, sir, this command of our Lord
was not only to baptize, — that was quite
secondary; it was to teach. Call it prose-
lytizing, or what you like; we know their
commission was to unfold the blessed doc-
trines of the gospel; for we have evidence
that they did so; and finding, as we do here,
that this injunction of our LcMrd to teach or
preach the gospel is accompanied with one
to baptize, is it not clear that those only who
cotdd understand and receive this sacred
teaching were the proper subjects for bap-
tism? Have we evidence that the apostles
went and preached to infimts, and then bap-
tized them ? Show me this, and then, per-
haps, I may listen to such an unreasonable
inference; but if you cannot, it is very bad
policy in you to adduce such a passage in
favour of your argument, when it so clearly
tends the other way. First. Because in-
fants, being incapable of understanding the
gospel which the apostles were sent to preach,
and the preaching and the baptism being
coupled in the same command, and thus boUi
intended for the same individuals, only those
capable of understanding the gospel are the
fit subjects for baptism. Secondly. A grand
mission to all nations having been given to
the apostles by our Lord, one injunction of
which was to baptize, it is quite natural to
expect to see recorded the carrying out of
that mission and the fulfilment of that com-
mand; and not finding that command ful-
filled in the case of infants, but of adults, it
is reasonable to conclude that the apostles
fully understood our Lord, and that their
mission was to sinful but intelligent men,
and not to innocent and unconscious infants;
and that as to the latter, not being able to
commit actual sin, and thus far not needing
repentance, or baptism, which b but a sign
of repentance, they depend for their salva-
tion upon the merits of Christ alone, and
that totally irrespective of any outward act
or ceremony whatever."
But another quotation— one frequently
abused — has also been brought forward by
the writers of the preceding articles; and
really, when one comes to think of it, it
seems marvellous that men in other respects
so acute, should on the question of baptism
appear so utterly devoid of reason as to
adduce the following passage in order—
mind, or you may not imderstand — to prove
infant baptism: — ^**And Jesus said, Suffer
little children to come unto me, and forbid
them not, for of such is the kingdom of
heaven." It seems useless to ask what
remote connexion such a text can have with
the subject before us, unless it is the doctrine
of the Psedobaptists whenever children are
mentioned in the Bible to understand hap^
Utm ! It would, certainly, be very convenient
for them; but for my part, beautiful as this
text is, and expressive of our Lord's tender
love for children, I cannot see where a drop
of water can be squeezed out of it sufficient
even to sprinkle.
But the article of J. F. is of a character
370
U THS BAPnSM OF IKFAIITB ▲ FRACTXCB
which calk for especud remark, inasmuch
as it takes qaite a new ground of argument
from its compeers in the debate, and is more
calculated to lead the mind astraj. Like a
comet suddenly making its appearance in
the heavens, it strikes the eje as having
something peculiar about it^- something, in
hctf rather suspicious.
J. F. sajs: — ^**Upon the nature and de-
sign of baptism we believe we fullj coincide
with the BaptiaU ( !> We freely grant that
it signifies the state of grace into which the
soul has passed through a saving iaith in
Christ; that ths spplication of water to the
body represents the cleansing of the soul by
the blood of Christ, the washing of regene-
ration, and the sanctification of the Spirit;
that it is a pledge of the dedication of the
soul to God — a taking on of the yoke of
Christ," &c. &c. What! And do you, then,
fasten all this upoD an infant? Do you
mean to assert that all these solemn respon-
sibilities are to be undertaken by an un-
conscious babe; and that that infant can
have *' saving faith," and become regenerate,
and sanctified, merely upon its being
sprinkled with water? Alas! I very mu<£
fear that is what you mean. If so, by all
that is solemn and sacred I would warn you
to beware of such a doctrine. It strikes at
the vexy root of Christianity; it upsets the
Chorions fabric for which the apostles under-
went persecution, and even death, and for
which the reformen fought and conquered,
namely, that we are justified by faith alone,
that faith having as its only foundation the
Atonement of Christ. If the doctrine of
baptismal regeneration be true, our salvation
by the blood of Christ must be all a fiction,
and consequently the Bible a mere fttble.
You are very much mistaken if you suppose
" the Baptista" hold similar views with yoo.
Allow me, on their behalf, to repudiate all
such connexion. It is true they baptixe
only those who profess that they have re-
pented and believed ; but they allow no sanc-
tity to the act of baptism by itself. It is
merely a sign or profession of their faith,
conformed to in obedience to the command
and example of their heavenly Master; but
it is nothing more.
Doubtless many, reading the article of
J. F., would thus oonfonnd the salvation of
infants with their baptism. Now baptism,
u» ittelf, is a thing quite apart from salva-
tion; that is, it is not actually essentiai to
salvation. The whole tenor and declaration
of the New Testament demonstrates thst
ceremonies and works, however good in their
proper plsoe, are not the basb of salvation.
SL Paul says, **We oonelude that a man is
justified by fkith, without tke deecb ^ tit
law," Bom. iii. 28; also, Gal. iL l<i. In
another place he says, '^And circumcision is
that of the heart; in the spirit, and not in
the letter;** thus showing that, however justi-
fiable ceremonies and works may be, they aie
not actually neoessaiy to salvation. And
then, again, it is said in St. Uark, xvl 16,
"He that beUeveth and is baptised shaU be
saved; but he that beUeveth not shall be
danmed," excluding baptism, you see, in tke
punishment, although it is part of the bkss-
ing; so that a person may be saved without
necessarUy being baptized. What, then, i*
to beoomo of infants? you will inquize.
Obviously this passsge has nothing to dt
with them, because they cannot 6e&ee. It
follows, then, that baptmn has nothing to do
with them. If those who hold baptismil
regeneration afiirm that unless the in&nt is
baptized it cannot be saved, they wtntt also
say that unless it believeB it cannot be saved,
for here it is said, " He that believeth sot
shall be damned." It is clear, then, tbit
this passage, which enjoins faith and baptism
together, only applies to those who cam bavt
fiiith, — ^a thing impoasible to an infant.
And, secondly, since those who have not
this faith are to be condemned, the wbofe
text must necessarily exclude infants ss
having anything to do with it; for we hare
reason to believe that infants, dying sock,
are saved, though not capable of xcpentAacc
or faith. Thia matter, however, w* maj
leave. What the Bible has not expUdti/
revealed is not necessary for ytM to dcterawsa
I hope, then, that it will be seen thsi
J. F.*s speculative theory is quite untecabk,
and, moreover, has nothing to do with the sab-^
ject. He has not given ua one actual pre^'
from scriptnn that in&nt baptism is ss
ordinance enjoined by our Lord or practised
by his apostles. In fact, be openly avo«s
himself unable to do this. How utteiij
absurd, then, and inconsbtcnt to attempt lo
prove his point from scripture.
But, not satisfied with his own insbilit?*
he endeavonn to bring the same cbtrp
against us in the following sentence:— ** If
nr HABMOxr witb tbb igbiptvbbs ?
371
•M ciimot produot a tingle passage of scrip-
tare which ptaixi)]r and positively institates
the baptisB of infants, n«ther can thejf find
a single passage wfaidi plainlj and posttiTely
exelodes infimts from this ordinance, and
coofioes it to adults." I think my friend is
mistaken, and tin rsader who has followed
me ev«n thns tat will liave kad sofficient
cridenee to leliita such a charge. I will,
however, giva a passage out oif his own
article, which he bas brooght in, I snppose,
to stiogthen Au argnmcnt, bat it wiU do
exceeding) J well for mine.* — ^"Then Peter
aaid nnto them (win? a mnltitiida of io-
Iknts?), Repent, and be baptized every one
of yoQ in the name of Jesus Christ." What I
inftnta repent and be baptized? Tee; for,
aooording to J. F., this passage ezclndes
rational individaals, and inelodes, of coarse,
In&nts! Wen, snch reasoning being cer-
tainly infantina, we will leave it, and see
what tbe context says. In Acts, chap, ii., it
will be seen that individaals, ''Parthians,
Hedaa," ftc, had come up to tbe feast at
Jeraaalcm, and that, on the day of Pentecost,
Peter addressed them, after which address it
says, " Now when they heard this, they were
pricked in their hearts, and said nnto Peter
and the rest of the apostles. If en and brethren,
what shall we do? Then Peter said nnto
them (these same strangers), Bepent, and be
baptized every one of you in the name of
Jesoa Christ," &c Now, these individuals
were aien. Peter in addressing them said,
*" Repent, and be baptized." Bat, no; J. F.
does not at all think this is in &voar of
adnlt baptism, for he brings it in to sapport
infao t iM^itisBi. Perhaps, then, these strangers
brooght their babes with them to Jerasalem ?
and perhaps they went hnnting aboat fior
godf^ers and godmothers for them amongst
the Jews? and perhaps St. Peter's important
addreas, begianiiig, **Men and brethren,"
was, after all, meast for tkanf and perhaps,
to conclade, the apostle in a sarplice sprinkled
thor £ices with water, and made the sign
of the cross? and perhaps, when it says,
*^tht^ that ffimdhf noeked hit word were
baptized," it refexred to those little ones sob-
mitting to the ordinance with teariess eyes!
There is no mention that St Peter did not
do all this; and it is jost as elever to infer
that it was done in this case as in any other.
Oh, away with such nonsense, and this in
the nineteenth oentnry. Talk of the seven
sacraments of Rome! why, we have one in
Protestant England that is not only qoite
as Popish, bat, considering oar additional
enlightenment, more abaard. Reading this
chapter in the Acts, the most simple reason-
ing in the world will show as — 1st. That SL
Peter folly understood oar Lord's command
to "go and teach all nations, baptizing
them," &e., to mean that no nation, Jew or
Gentile, was to be exduded (not necessarily
every huKvidual in that nation)^ for we find
him preaching to Parthians, and Modes, and
Ethiojaans, &c. 2nd. That these individaals
who were commanded to ** repent and be bap^
tieed" were all adnlts; for they heard what
Peter said, felt it, and inqaired what they
shoald da 3rd. That the apostles only
deemed these men fit sabjects for baptism tf
ihty repentedj another condition impossible
to an infant 4th. That all those who hold
infant baptism as authorized by the New
Testament are in grievous error, inasmuch
as this whole chapter of the Acts, especially
including verses 37, 38, snd 41, doee prove
to a reasonable mind that adnlts only were
the subjects of baptism as understood by the
apostle Peter; and that infiuits were neces-
sarily excluded, for tbey conld neither un-
derstand, nor speak, nor repent; and also
because it is said, " Then they that ^adXy
reeeieed hie ward were baptized;" — as oon-
clnsive a mass of evidence, in my opinion, as
the most scrupuloiu could require, to show
that those who hold infant baptism are, in
scripture estimation, grievously in the wrong.
In now leaving the matter with the reader,
we may say that the discussion of the ques-
tion, necessitating as it has done a reperusal
of the scriptures bearing upon the subjeet,
has greatly strengthened our convictioin that
aduhsj and those beiievert, are the only
recipients of the ordinance of baptism autho-
rized by the Bible. J. W. W.
ATFIBM ATIVE ARTICLE.— IV.
Aix dispensations which have God for their
author must be regarded as spiritual in rela-
namely, the salvation of man. But they are
characterized by the quality of the sneoM
tion to the end they are designed to promote, ■ or appliances nsed fi>r this end, since these
372
IS THE BAFX18X Of IHFA1IT8 ▲ PRACTICE
most needs be adapted to the particalar
genius and state of mankind, or that portion
of mankind who sustain the f nncUons of a
chnrch at any given period.
The advent of oar Lord was made at a
time when mankind were prepared for a more
spiritual dispensation than that vouchsafed
to the children of Israel; accordingly, the
dispensation then founded was eminently
spiritual ; for in virtue of its essentials, which
are charity, faith, and a life according, it is
spiritual par excellence^ and this in contra-
distinction to the Mosaic dispensation, which
in its intrinsic nature wss ceremonial and
typical — typical of Christianity, and there-
fore was it superseded by its antitype.
We deem these preliminary remarks upon
the essential nature of Christianity advisable,
because it appears to us that a consideration
of baptism, as an ordinance performed in
connexion with the visible church of Christ,
is necessary, since there is a difference of
opinion in regard to its nature an(} use un-
derlying this discussion, and requiring to be
first settled, in order to arrive at a satisfac-
tory conclusion on the more inmiediate point
at issue.
For our own part, we regard baptism as a
mere ceremony, having its foundation on an
ecclesiastical, rather than a theological, basis ;
as such we cannot concede it to be an essential
part of Christianity, which, as a spiritual
system, addresses itself to and affects man's
spiritual nature.
But those who argue in favour of the
negative side of the present question regard
the ordinance of baptism in an assumed con-
nexion with certain adjuncts, which afiect,
first, the nature of the ordinance, — secondly,
the eligibility of the subject; the result is,
that they come to regard baptism as an au-
thoritatively-enjoined duty, to the perform-
ance of which advanced Christians alone are
adequate. These conclusions being diame-
trically opposed to our own, we proceed to
test the validity of those adjuncts whereby
oor opponents arrive at them.
First. That which afiects the nature of
the ordinance. " L'Ouvrier" alludes to bap-
tism as a "positive precept," prescribing
** the path of duty to the Christian;** subse-
qnently he designates it a " divine precept,"
to the same effiset; '* Annette" speaks of
submitting to the rite of baptism as ** obey-
Uig this command of Christ;** and, lastly,
J. M. P. tells us *' it is the boonden duty of
every one** to be baptized.*
Kow, the only passage in the four gospels
which can with any propriety be regarded u
establishing the external oidinanoe of bap-
tism (Matt, xviii. 19) does not substantiate
this view of its nature, for there the com-
mand to baptize is given not to the disciple
or proselyte, but to the apostles. Now, the
apostles assembled at the moontain in Gal-
lUee represented the chnrch miiitant in all
time, as is evident from the magnitode of
the mission enjoined, ^* Go ye, thwefore, and
disciple all naiiont ;** and from the extent of
its duration, **Lo, I am with you abcm/i,
even to the vnd.** Thus it is the duty of tbt
church to bestow baptism on the proselyte,
who receive* it as a sign or token of a pri-
vilege— church membenbip— cofi/«rrerf. As
such, it may in some sort be likened to the
diadem which adorns a monarch's brow, as
the symbol of royalty, or to the sceptre he
wields, as the symbol of kingly pover; hcna
the propriety of using it, in its oerenMiu«I
capacity, as the initiatory rite on admisaoa
into the external christian church.
But the Baptastsysoooiding to ** UOuvrier,*
regard baptism as a " pledge** on the part of
the subject " that he believes;** or, accordiai:
*' Annette," '* as a token that they lay asidt
their sins.'* But we demand^ to whom don
it constitute such a token or " pledge?"* T«
God? It is not needed, for he sees the faearL
To man? It is unsatisfactoiy thus rtigaidel
for it is notorious to every reader of chucK
history that the peculiar sentiments of Bqv-
tists in rsgard to baptism have been h^ is
connexion with heresies of the most pesti-
lential nature — ^heresies which have excosed,
favoured, and even inculcated, an evil hie.
Baptist views of the use of baptism sRt
therefore, inadequate.
It is conceded by our opponents that bap*
tism is a type and a ceremony. Now, it is
in accordance with scriptoial order and jst-
cedent, that a ceremonial type shoold be ^
use at a time anterior to the advent of itt
antitype. But " beJiever-haptSsm" inpto
the performance of the type in the voy {3«*
sence and ascendency of its antitype ; dearir,
therefore, it is not in hannony with the
scriptures.
* A son of eleTentii commandBMot, v« pn^
sume, which might nm thus : — ^*Thoa ahalt ^
b^itiaed, in the name,** te.
IN' iiAiiMONv wirii Tiir <( inrrn:!
li. S., Ill tlio ffiursu ol Ilia pttwi'ilul articlr,
lias shijwn " believer-baptism" to be " im-
possible;" and wc may add that the attempt
to perform it consistently nvith the implied
csonditions is impions, since it attempts to
jndprc of a man's spiritual state — a jndpnent
to which the Lord alone is adequate, and
'vrhich it is expressly forbiddon man to
^tteinpt (Matt. vii. 1). Whatever conclu-
sion, tiicrefore, may be arrived at in reffard
Vo infant baptism, here is an overwhelmin;^
case np^imtt "believer-baptism,** founded
'Qipon tbi' intrinsic nature of the ordinance of
limptism.
Our opponents, in their turn, wnuld pro-
liably a^k us to justify our sentiments in
xeganl to baptism as they stand ntfccted by
the Lord's wonis, Mark xvi. 16, and John iii.
Sj in which pas5ajres baptism appears to be
anade a condition of salvation. Our reply is,
^e hold the Lonl's wonls to have a spiritual
aignification, according with the rliaracter
irhich he hims4^1f has affixed to all his teach-
ings. Tims he says (John vi. 63), ** The
w<Hd.s that I 8{)eak unto you are spirit
and are life." Hi'nce we are bound ever to
look for a spiritual and life-givinp; sense in
which to re<|:anl baptism; a siiise whicli
applies to the spiritual part of man's nature,
and which can be supposed to be etfcotivc
for eternal life. But the rite of baptism ia
perfonned on the perishable body of man;
nor can external or bodily purification he
Hoarded as in any way conducive to life
eternal. We, therefore, repudiate the notion
that the rite of baptism is the thin;r meant
in the passage referred to, which, indeed, our
opponents have no right to assume, even on
the score of the bare literal fiense, since there
are other baptisms than that of water (as
that of the •* Holy Ghost" and of •* fire")
tnenttoned in the cospcls, any of which might
be the " baptism" intended.
Tlie genuine or spiritual signification of
tiie rite of baptism, as practised by John
the Baptist and the disciples of our Lord, is
to bo gathered from a consideration of the
eoDiponent types which go to make up the
eoocrete ceremony. These types arc irater^
tlie body of man, and the application of the
water, with a cleansing effect. We propose
to arriye at the genuine sense of these par-
ticular types by the recognibod role of allow-
ing acriptnre to interpret script are.
In John ir. 10, our Lord speaks of "liring
\v;itot"' — " sj-rinj^iii.; Up until ovt/rlustin;; liti-;"
and again, John vi. 35, he says, " lie that
that bclieveth on me shall never thirst."
Now, bearing in mind the Lord's character
as " the Word" and " the Truth," we at once
conclude to the spiritual signification of
water as being frttthj and specifically f;(tsjH>t
truth. That the body of man represents his
soul, in ceremonial observance, is too evident
to neeil any comment in its support. That
the ceremonial application of water to the
body for purificatory purposes signifies the
application of the Lord's teachings to the
soul, or life principle, is evident from the
particular siirnifications of water and of the
IkkIv in such a cercmonv: aNo from the
Lord's jierfonnance, as detailed in John xiii.
5 — 10, and from his words (Juhn xv. 3),
" Ye are cUan through the vord which I
have spoken unto you."
Thus, from the signification of those par-
ticular types involved in bapti.<m, wc con-
clude to the signification of the concrete
ceremony :w shadowing forth those essential
things in or<ler to salvation, repentance and
refomiation; for rej^entanc-e is a necessary
condition of genuine reformation, which is
effected by the application of christian prin-
ciph»s to life: repentance is also necessary to
the remission of sins; and all these conditions
together arc necessary to salvation. There-
fore baptism is called (.Mark i. 4) " the bap-
tism of repentance Tinto the remis^sion of
sins," and then-fore the Lord saitl (Mark
xvi. 16), **He that helieveth and is baptized
(*. «?., spiritually) shall be saved."
Secondly. Wc proceed to test the validity
of that condition which, according to Baptist
notions, should invest the subject of baptismi
namely, the condition of ** belief," or saving
faith, which is of a spiritual nature. But
we have already shown that a just considera-
tion of the intrinsic nature of baptism, as a
rite, directly militates against this notion of
our opponents ; and our able ally, B. S., has
shown, in a manner which would be con-
clusive Aviih an ** unbiaAscd mind," that the
genuine arguments to be derived from Matt,
xxviii. 19. and the numerous examples our
opponents have quoted of the practice of bap-
tism by the apostles, are all in favour of pro-
selyte-baptism, as contradistinguished from
"believer-baptism." There is an obvious
distinction between a proselyte or neophyte
and a believer; yet J. M. P., while professedly
374 IS THE BAPTISM OF mvAma nr hasmont wm trs scriftubu ?
criticisiBg the article of B. S., D^leeU either
to deal with the argnoient, or to reconcile
the obviooa coDclnaiont from it with Baptist
Botions. We can only account for the omis-
sion either on the gnmnd of obtoseness or
of an intense party spirit, which prompts him
to bliok a point of snch importance in its
bearings on the general diseossioD, bat which
tells against his own cherished system.
It remains for ut to notice a piece of
equivocal argmnentatloo which pervades all
the articles of oar opponents. It exists in
connexion with the term ** disciple." It is
certain that both proa^ftea and fre/wMrs are
in a certain sense disciples; but proselytes
are not believers. Now, the argoment of onr
opponents amonnts to this,— oar Lord com-
manded, and his apostles practised, disctple-
proselytiB-bs^ism. Believers are disciples;
therefore oar Lord commanded, and the
apostles practised, disciple- believer-baptism.
The fallacy is too transparent to need a more
&nnal refntation.
Bat oar opponents may exclaim, Admittiag
that the baptism which the I«ord enjoined
and the apostles practised was proselyte-
baptism, still this does not prove the ease of
infant baptism. You cannot proselyte infisnts,
and there is no " direct" evidence that the
duldren of proselytes were baptized with them.
Now, this objection is a m«n qaibUe. It
was to be expected from the circamstanees of
a new dispensation, which was to be spread
by proselytism, that the principal featars in
its history woold be the initiation of prose-
lytes, in the present case by baptism, and
that the sabjects lioticed personsJly in each
a history wonld be adalts; bat the baptism
of hooseholds — ^families — it recorded as being
practised by the apostles; and nothing bat
a rampant party spirit woald deny the
extreme probability of soch ** hooseholds"
oontaining both infants and children. Oar
opponents may be assared that» in the absence
ti any diireet evidence to the contrary, this
circnmstaoce, so distinctly recorded, will
always have its dae weight in sach a discos-
aicn as the present.
And now we come to face the impos-
sibilities.whtch oor oppooeats are so eager to
point oat as lying in oor path to infant bap-
tism. We are tanntingly asked if we can
make "* beUevers," *« disciples," " proselytes,'*
**of infants?" J. M. P. inqaires, in the
Mune sense and spirit, but in lass eqaifooal
terms, "How are we to teach themr "How
are we to disciple them?" Bat let ns see if
there is not a sense in which children, or
even infants, may be regarded as disciples,
or learaers. Thus, if we teach a child Ibs
alphabet, ia order that be may be able to
read the Bible, may we not be represatod,
with perfect propriety, •» teaching him to
read the Bible? So, if we edoeate a chOd,
even from the first radimeBtaiy iaatractiflos,
which most be the foudatiaii of his fatnn
aeqnirements, in view of his attaining to a
full knowledge of the christian doctrine, nsv
we not with eqoal propriety be representid
aa teaching him Christianity? Hnoe there
lit a sense in which infisnts and children sn
learners, or disdples, in rslatien to Chrii-
taanity. The only differenoe between tin
infimt disciple and the adalt proselyte-dis-
ciple is in the matter of ttillf whidi most be
sapposed to actnate the proselyte; tiiis, hov-
ever, is bespoken on behalf ef the child hj
his christian parents, and is valid to sach sa
extent that he cannot *at aay anhseqasat
period aasnme a negative aspect in r^^aid to
christian trath withoat incurring the monl
guilt of infidelity. But there is really d»
essential difference between a diild's Iw&f
and the belief of most of the fint coDvcrts
to Chriatianity, in wheee eases a miracoleo
element had placei Now, the effect oCmnd a
or any other element, as ptophecy, whid
astonishes or " cenfeimds," is to take a«sj
the freedom of the will — to foroo it to adtft
certain condosioBS. Tha fiath, tfaercUKCof
the first proselytes to Ghristiaaity was s
wperimdmoed/aUkt and altogether simikr is
its nature to that &ith or belief in Chris-
tianity which ehristiaa parests mftrmiuoe
by educatioa on their e&priBg.
Having, on the Am hand, dispoMd of those
fictitious sidjuncts with which Bi^ttsts weeU
fain invest the rite of baptMB, sad the sab-
ject thereof; and, on the ethar baad, estab*
lished and defended enr own views en thssi
fundamental points, we at leBgth oooss t»
the immediate pomt at iame, **Ia the pne-
tioe of infant baptism in hsuroMay wkh Ihi
seriptorss?** This is, in elfcot, to aak, Dt
the acripturss sanotion iaisnta aa thesubjectt
of a osremony? But the sersmosy in qa*'
tioB beiBg the iBitiatoiy rita aato the vwblt
or external christiaB dior^ the qusstiaB
may be rendered, Is it in hanaony with tbt
sanptons to cqbshiw iMann as angiaie in
\vi!i<-rr v,-\i. Mil" '.::»■ \ :i .■■ r 1'im:i. mfi.icv oy: -ir xk-i! ri, r :\7^
churvh iMOinlKT^lilp? Aiid i'.k' M"^;iio liti" r'''[uiriMiu.-iits. It was aj»i"tiiiU:il l>y ti<i.l
of circnincibion, which wa-i the initiatory rite I himself, and the penalty of bein^ " cut off**
of tlie Lsraelitiiih chnrch, and which was pr- ' attached to its i]on-obifervance;circum8tAnces
formed on infants of eight days old, at onoe . sufficient to demonstrate its relative import-
occnrs to dictate a conclusive atfirmation. ance. Itut the christian dispensation being
•* L'Ouvrier" and "Annette" both attempt antit\'pical, or spiritual, any merely ccremo-
to OTcrrulo the force of this precedent; nial observance cannot be an essential part
" L'Ouvrier " however, deals with a proi»o- of its requirements. If, then, infants were
sition we do not affirm, namely, " that bap- eligible subjects for an essential of the
tism and circumcision are interchancjeable or Mosaic dispensation — ^lich, however inferior
sabstitutionary from the y#>mVi to the Chris- as comp.irud with the christian dispensation,
tian dispenwuion.** What we are concerned , was still the chnrch of God at that time —
to maintain is, the anafttyj/ between the two \ how much more are they eligible as tho
rites — the similarity of the relations they ' suhjects of a mere ceremonial ajipendagc to
bear to the respective dispensations to which Christianity?
they belwig. Christianity was the **new | In conclusion, wo call the attention of onr
oorenant" in roganl to JudaiMn, or the "old rea<lors to the apposition of two remarkable
covenant.^ It was, therefore, both orderly and precepts of our Lord : Mark x. 15, " Whoso-
expedicnt to adopt a different initiatory rite, ' ever shall not receive the kingdom of God aa
whose concurrent types should more truly re- '< a little child shall not enter therein;** and
piment the spiritual appliances of the system. John iii. 5, " Except a man be born of water
"Annette" atti.*mpts to evatle the force of and of the Spirit he cannot enter into tho
the precedent by arguing for a di>tinction kingdom of God.*' In each of these texts
between the posterity of Abraham as a nation ' there is a condition attached to entrance into
and ta a church; but we b<*g to submit that the "kinirdom of God:** the one is birth "of
the children of Israel were representative of ■ water** (which phrase is generally allowed to
ft chnrch in their political as well as their ; allude to baptism by water); the other, an
•ocial capacity, and thus as a nation; there- ' infantile character or nature. Now, in vieir
fore there is no foundation for the distinction ' of these conditions we would suggest the
"Annette* contenils for, and tho argument eminent propriety, beauty, fulness, and «crij9-
wfaich the precedent furnishes stands intact; ■ html harmony of the ceremony of infant
indeed, this ai^^ument becomes an argument baptism, which unites these two remarkable
A/brfiori, when the different geniuses of the
two dispensations are taken into account.
types of spiritual comlitions on that ot'oasion,
which of all others is most representative of
The Mosaic dispensation was ceremonial : admission int(^ the kingdom of heaven, viz.,
and typical throughout, and as such the rite I initiation into tho church, the Loril's king-
of circumciuon was an essential part of its I dom on earth. Bescjamin.
:^MjilD5n|iIii[*
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST FOET, MILTOX OR SHAKSPERE ?
SIIAKSPERE.— ARTICLE III.
' What needs my Shakupere? • •
• ••«•«
Thou, in our wonder and astonishmenc.
Bast built thyself a livdoDg moniunent.
For, whilst, to the shame of slow endeavouring
Tby easy numbers flow ; and thai each heart
Hath.Avro the leaves of thy unTalue<i l>ouk,
Thone Delphic lines « lih deep impre5sion took ;
Then tlyiu, oar flincjr of itself bereaviiifr.
*< Dost make lis marble with too much voDceiving; I than his thoughts; nothing nobler and moie
And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie.
That kinfp, for such a tomb, would wish to
die." MUioti,
" He was the man who, of all modem, and peN
haps ancient poets, had the largest and most voxa-
prchensive soul." Drydem.
" Shakspere is a wondcrAil genias, a single
instance of the force of nature, and the slrvngth
of wit. Nothing can be greater and more liVely
376
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, MILTOK OB BHAESPERE?
forcible than his expression. The fire of his
fkncy breaketh oat into his words, and sets his
reader on a flame : he maketh the blood run cold
or warm, and is so admirable a master of the {Mis-
sions, that he raises your courage, your pity, and
your fear, at his pleasure." Dr. Pelton.
*' CoHPABisoNs are odious f* and in the
qnestion whether Shakspere or Milton, each
saperlatively great, be the greater, there
appears something forbidding and nnge-
neroos. The tmth it^ each is incomparable
in his sphere: one as a dramatic poet, the
other as an epic; one as the confidant and
oracle of Nature, the other of Bevelation.
Thus viewed, a distinction is discernible, not
of measure or capacity, but of divergency.
Parnassus had two tops, and two only.
Gladly would we place the fame of Shakspere
on Hyampea; that of Milton on Tythorea.
But the query before us admits of no distin-
guishing epithets; we are shut up to the
consideration, which of the oranific and glo-
rious twain absorbs in his own character
most of the quality or qualities comprehended
in the simple and unqualified term, "poet;"
and, while thus restricted, we must proceed
as well as may be, albeit the proceeding
bears some analogy to debating whether
father or mother be the greater parent; or
to a man, blear-eyed and at infinite distance,
attempting to resolve bow one star differs
from another star in glory ; or to a discussion
as to whether the gleams of the sun, " the
all-kissing Titan," are as effulgent in Great
Britain as in her antipodes.
" L'Ouvrier," evidently coyed (who would
sot be?) at bringing such kii^Iy spirits into
compare, has certainly done little, save so
far as bare utterance of opinion suffices, to
place Milton "in the exalted pobition of
England's greatest poet.*' After a careful
study of his paper, we can detect nothing
calculated to lead an unbiassed inquirer to
such a conclusion. Much that is advanced
either concerns a common possession of the
two poets, or else the superiority discrimi-
nated is purely advenient — comes wholly
from ** the breath of outward circumstance*'
—from the theme, the form, the occasion-
imposed necessity— or, above all, from pro-
founder scholarship, and not, we ween, in
anywise from affluence in any of the essentials
of* a poeL It wero impertinent, however, to
follow "L'Ouvriei^ int4) detail in order to
show his virtual neatir aty. Better at once
Attempt to adduce what we deem positive
reason why for Shakspere, conadered pardr
as a poet, we should claim the highest rank.
" Unless a man be bom a poet, he will
never attain the true spirit of poetry," said
good and learned John Wesley, well nigh a
century ago. ''We believe that Katur?
makes poets," lately wrote the excelleQt
author of " The Art of Reasoning," in th««e
pages. Now, divest Milton of all but his
native purple (of which we proudly own be
possessed no scanty measure) ; at least,
reduce his culture, his acquisitions, to Xhost
of the rural swain of Warwick; strip him ot
much academical training — of much bo>>k-
lore— of Sophodes, Euripides, Virgil, Grid.
Ariosto, Dante, Tasso, of Spenser, of tb:
"thousand-sonled" himself, and of Cowl«y:
place the twain on equal ground, and the
pronounce which is the greater. Miltoo.
bred a scholar, constantly environed bj
polished society, could hardly fail, with pf:9
even slightly above mediocrity, to mak« a
figure in the world. On the other hand, i:
had been no marvel if, combined with a ye:
larger measure of natural Kidowment, it haj
been an unknown or foigotten name, that of &
butcher's son, who, it is recorded, was, in earlj
youth, "very much given to all unlncki-
ness," — ^to deer poaching, to indiscreet ooort-
ship and premature marriage at cighti:«t
wandering, subsequently, an adventurer t'
the metropolis; and, alter rising by ii'^
gradation from the meanest post^ beoomir:
even at last only the principal of a LcoJoa
theatre. But because his name does lir^.
despite all drawback; because that in cos-
poeitions framed primarily to please t>
auditory of a playhouse at the close of tbf
sixteenth century, there is preserved vnc
hoarded "an inexhaustible mine of Tir;:ic
treasure," we concede to him the "hi^^:
pinnacle of poetical fame." That Shakspere,
destitute of the eminent erudition of Mitt«u
and living two generations before him, shooid
at this day sustain a comparison with tiy
great Puritan; nay, that he ahoald haveiC
his side the majority (we believe) of tl^^sf
best fitted to judge of poetical exceliffior.
seems to us a sufficient establishment of o«r
position. " The name of Shakspen,** wn!'^
Hallam, " is the greatest in our Ktcntuxv^^
it is the greatest in $Xi litsntore. No mas
ever came near to him in the creative po«cr»
of the mind; no man had ever such atreo^i:
at ones, and saeh wicty of iniaginatira/
WHICH WAS THB ORBATEST POST, MILTON OB 8HAKSPKRE ?
37:
Drjden says, '^Tbev who accuse him of
wanting learning, give him the greatest
oommendation. He was naiuralfy learned.
He needed not the spectacles of books to
read nature." This ** natural learning'* we
take to be the fundamental and chief cha-
racteristic of a great poet; and we deem it
abnndantlj clear that Shakspere evinced
more of it than Miltoo.. Nor are the intnitive
powers of the Bard of Avon superficial or
circumscribed. They range with eqoal
felicity over the whole extent of being; from
*'the poor beetle that we tread upon" to the
"laven lion, when he roars with sharp con-
straint of hunger;" from the imperturbable
sailor boy to the ^ uneasy head that wears a
crown;" and from the brutal Bardolph to the
philosophic duke; from the "pied daisy" to
the "frosty Caucasus;" from the ** gentle
rain of heaven" to the '* swift sulphureous
bolt that splits the unwedgable and gnarled
oak." Throughout fdl natare his insight is
transcendent, his ** creative power and intel-
lectual energy wrestling as in a war-embrace/'
seeming to pierce all things. ** The philo-
sophy of Shakspere (we again quote Hallam)
—his intimate searching out of the human
heart, whether in the gnomic form of sen-
tence, or in the dramatic exhibition of cha-
meter, is a gift peculiarly his own." " I
know not,*' writes Carlyle, " such a power of
vision, faculty of thought, if we take all the
characters of it, in any other man. Such a
calmness of depth, placid, joyous strength;
all things imaged in that great soul of his
so true and clear, as in a tranquil, unfathom-
able sea!" Coleridge, the greatest genias of
his day — " logician, metaphysician, bard" —
after fifty-five years' disciplined scholarship,
thus writes: — "At every new accession of
information, after every successful exercise
of meditation, and every fresh presentation
of experience, I have unfailingly discovered
a proportionate increase of wisdom and In-
tuition in Shakspere."
The spontaneity, too, of Shakspere is more
manifest. Though — after the fashion of
Moore in the production of "Lalla Bookh" —
Milton enforced not upon himself for years a
sort of formal incubation; it is, nevertheless,
indubitable that, during a considerable por-
tion of his life, his great work, " Paradise
Lost," was gradnaHy forming and exuding
tlirongh the sublimating alembic of his
tnttieendent mind. Shakspere, contrariwiM,
wrote all his works within some fifteen or
sixteen years, and before his forty-eighth
year.
Professor Aytoun, in his recent lectures,
characterized the greatest poet as one whose
works are the most widely apprehensible,
most universally influential, recognised, and
esteemed. In this regard Shakspere stands
incontestably foremost; for of Milton it has
been justly remarked, that "he is more
admired than read." Shakspere, equally
admired, is no less read and studied. He
possesses a perennial fund of interest, alike
for the meanest capacity and the highest;
while yet none can say, " I have exhausted
him." From the peasant to the prince; from
the alien Kossuth, in his prison at Buda, to
the compatriot De Quincey, in his study at
Lasswade,—- every mind "rejoiceth at his
word, as one that findeth great spoil." His
lessons of wisdom— of wistful instruction-—
are neither scant nor light; while his beau-
ties, literary, artistic, intellectual, moral, are
multitudinous as dew-drops in a morning.
And then what writer is quoted, whether in
oral or written discourse, as Shakspere ? His
glittering and profound apophthegms pervade,
with the cheer and freshness of sunshine,
the eloquence of the senate, the forum, and
the pulpit; familiar everywhere as household
words, the rapt effluence of this diaphonous
oracle. Few will fail to recollect the men-
tion of the preacher who, while declaiming
with pious fervour against all plays and
playhouses, unwittingly cited an entire pas-
sage of "Othello!" The utterances of the
butcher's son have become in large measure
the texture and woof of the English tongue.
To the theme, no less than to the form, of
his greatest work Milton owes much. " The
subject of * Paradise Lost' (says Hallam) b
the finest that has ever been chosen."
" Milton oweth his superiority in majesty of
thought and splendour of expression to the
scriptures: they are the fountain from which
he derived his light; the sacred treasure
that enriched his fancy, and furnished him
with all the truth and wonders of God and
his creation, of angels and men, which no
mortal brain was able either to discover or
conceive," wrote Dr. Henry Felton, in 1709.
Furthermore: — "Milton drew, sometimes,
out of other men's wells. .... Shakspere
found, forsooth, his plots in Cynthio's novels,
and the skeleton of some of his speeches in
2o
378
WHIOH WAS THB GREATEST POET, UILTOST OR 8HAKSPKBB?
PlnUrch; bat where (asks GilBllao) foond
he his sratiment, his imagery, his language,
the flesh and blood with which he clothed
those dead bones, and the magio of the word
of gen ins hj which he made them liTing
men?" The muse of ^filton affects theocracy,
hovers around whatever is revealed of the
Eternal himself — of primeval man — Eden,
his pristine abode, and the maleficent power
which indnced his fall— of the glory of
heaven, and the diabolism of hell. In these,
tntly, is the culmination of greatness; but
unfolded, we apprehend, by the inspired
word, not by Milton. These have, we grant,
shed around our poet a halo of majestic dig-
nity and splendour wholly wanting in every
other, but which, as a reflected lustre, can
by no means be accounted to him an excel-
lence in our estimate of him strictly as a
poet Yet, ** Can there be greatness greater
than this?** ejaculates " L'Onvrier," as if the
subject were the poet, the iustruaient the
music, or as if the condor were the chiefest
warbler because it towers as heavenward as
the peak of Cbimboraxa The muse of
Shakspere affects things of lesser moment,
ranges a wider field, and is, in general, in
nowise indebted to the theme. Yet Shak-
spere, says Dryden, **is always great when
some great occasion is presented to him."
Poetry stands prominently out, whether he
touches the minutest terrestrial object or the
greatest, whether it be **the poor harmless
fly, with its slender, gilded wings," or the
mighty snn, ** which fires the proud tops of
the eastern pines." The breath of his genius
calls forth from an apparent " wild of no-
thing" reality and beauty, and extracts
jewels from reptile loathsomeness and insig-
nificance. Milton reduces and transhapes;
l^akspere transmutes, and yields gold ^m
granite.
We should naturally look for a more im-
posing presence in a well-bom Londoner than
in one bom of a lower station, and bred amid
the rasticity of a midland county; and the
feelings with which we should approach a
secretary of the commonwealth would be far
different from the Mings with which we
should approach the proprietor of a plaj-
house; an effect produced solely by virtue <if
accidental position, and not from any, even a
cursory estimate of respective character or
natural capacity. Such was the relativt
position oi Milton and Shakspere in life; aad
something anali^us seems to obtain now is
respect of their poetry. But in eqai^, is
the furtherance of a meet and truthful sido-
tion to the question propounded at the h«ad
of this article, let any prepoaseasioB. in fisvoar
of Milton, originating by the assodatioo of
his name with all that is esteemed gnat
among men, be specially canvassed and
bounded. What more awing and aagnst,
considered in itself and its symbolic »igoifi-
cance, than the diadem of Victoria? Yet
have we unappealable — ^yea, tacnd war-
ranty—that in a flower of the fidd dweUt
more trae poetry than in that! Shakspoe
is as a rose, Milton as the crown.
But enough. In condiiding these imper-
fect remarks we are desirou of iatimMii^
that we have spoken of these dazzling lani-
naries in the world's literatma thrao^ Mr
ings of much diffidence, becauae neosantatri
to speak in some sort to the disparageoMak
of surpassing greatness. In unfeigned ad-
miration of Milton as a poet, and espeaally
as pre-eminently a Christian poet, we yiddte
none ; and, had the two iianMs been connected
in any other way for diseosuoii, we should,
probably, have been found on the other ndk
Milton we know as a great maa among gnat
men; as an eminently learned maa, a poli-
tician, a Christian; bat chiefly as a poet
Of Shakspere, as to his manhood, his ae^
sitions, his principles, his acfaieveneats ia liAv
if aught can be told, there ia surely nethii^
to boast of; he IS, in sooth, ALL poet.
SaxoaL
MILTON.—ARTICLE IH.
For an ordinary intellect tosit in judgment
on the relative merits of Shakspere and
Miltcffi, seems to indicate a degree of intellec-
tual assurance and pride, which argues but
Kttle fitness for the task it attempts; at the
same time, no one who is conversant with
the poetical works of titese two master-
minds of the human
an opinion of their oomparativa ezodkoce, er«
at least, feeling that degree of penssil
preference whidi be ought to bava the mea-
liness to avow aod defend. Coaeclousof
unfitness for so great a theme, and dcsoiiir
to avoid the apparent hardihood of attanf^
^
WIS TBK ORBATECT POET, aULTON OB aHAKSPSBB ?
S7»
iBg to eomprehcnd and weigh the pvwws of
a Sbakspere and a Milton, I liad intended
to nmaia a rileot, bat deep]/ interested,
^eetator of the ooane of the present debate ;
doping tbenbj to obtain clearer and more
exact TiewB ftr mytelf, before I ventared
pobtidy to declare and defend them. Find-
ing, hoirerer, that there is yet room for
another defender of Milton's fame, I am
iadnoed to come Ibrward and explain, as far
as in nn lies, the reasons which indace me
t» rank him abore the " sweet bard of
Avon,* in the scale of poetic excdlence; and
ii this reaolre, I am further confirmed by the
oonrietion that my predecessors, in their
admirable artteles, hsre rather wandered
nend tfalm fairly approached the qoestion.
I hope I shall be mderstood as speaking the
hnnt optnions of a friend, and not as either
avoming the office of judge orer my brethren,
<ir deprecating their articles, when I say that
they appear to me to be daisied by the
SR«tneis of their theme, and to speak a
panegyric, instead of asserting and establish-
iog a claim. The articles that have appeared
n the side of MUton appear more suited to
?wnoto a sodden enthusiasm, than a settled
aoofiction; and I cannot but regret to find
a» writer, apparently resting much of his
nasoning on the sssumptkNa, that the better
"oa is the greater |>oet.
The chancter ii the opemng article of
£• W. Sw, in faronr of Shakspere, seems to
faquire prompt notice. We find him declar-
*^t 1b hia first paragraph, with a hardihood
ttd intellectual presumption ilUbefitting the
theme, that he does ** not profess to have
'Van*' to a superior height to that on which
Sb&kspere stands; although, forsooth, he has
S>ined a ^ stand-pobt,** frwu which he is
" enabled to look upon all the poetic geniuses
of the world, ut qui infra trnTl " This
luitual eloTation," which enables E. W. S.
to look down on Milton, we envy not, but
'Kther despise ; convinced, as we are, that it is
^ut an airy altitude, as baseless and unsub-
B^tial as a dream. I feel the less heaiU-
tion in speakmg thus strongly of £. W. &,
^^caose he appears to carry the same degree
^hautour, and suppositious and self-con-
■tituted superiority into all his writings.
In a closiBg article on another topic, he has
^▼olled out of his course to attack and
^^perae the liturgy, eonstitutioB, and oflieers
^ ft great raligioos eommunity, in most un^
measured terms, and in a way that can only
exdto just indignation, or cause deep pain
to every diaritable reader, whether belonging
to, or (like myself) dissenting from, the body
in question. I neither expect, nor wish fSor,
better treatment than he has accorded to
other opponento; but I hope, by calling the
attention of tfas readers of the CordroveniaUti
to the spirit manifested by this writer, to
induce them to resist the attempte made to
dictate and force opinions upon them by the
means of dogmatic assertion and bold abuse.
Those who tell us that they have gained an
eminence from which they look down on
Milton, have already decided the present
question; we need not seek for argumento;
the opening declaration is sufficient to awe
us into acquiescence, or produce distrust of
their intentions. In accordance with our
expcctatiocis, we find nothing in the article
of E. W. S. but uncompromising assertion.
^ The epic grandeur, the beautiful language,
the classic power, and perfect harmony of
thought and symbol, to be found in Milton,"
are acknowledged only to be summarily con-
demned as ** not poetry," and " merely
artistic." Let the reader substitute " dra-
matic beauty** for " epic grandeur," and the
sentence will be as true and applicable to
Shakspere as it now is to Milton. I appeal
to the reader, and feariessly ask. Is he
inclined to accept these auto-phatic decisions
as of any value? Channing's description of
the tendeney and effects of poetry is quoted
as a definition; and Shakspere*s poetry is
forthwith asserted to agree with this test.
We will not stop to show (as might easily be
done) that the remarks of Channlng are as
applicable to the poetry of Milton as to that
of Shakspere; but we will call the reader^s
attention to the last sentence, which E. W. S.
has marked in italics. Ghanning deolares
that poetry ** helps faith to lay hold on
future life." Now, we ask any sincere
and simple-minded Christian, if such is the
result of studying Shakspere? Can any
one read the groes impurities which so often
disfigure the pages of Shakspere, — can any
one wade through the oaths and profanities
of utterance of many of his characters, and
then conscientiously speak of being teught
thereby* to lay hold on future life, or of
receiring therefrom an ''assurance** of the
truth '^ of a higher rev^ation"?
Most of the writen on this debate baT«
880
WHICH WAS THE QBBATSST POET, MIi;rOV OB 8HAKSPB1UB?
laid 80 much stress on the moral and
educational tendency of the works of the two
poets on their readers, that I feel bound to
notice this question, though I have great
doubts of the propriety of raising it. The
point to be decided is not the o^'ect of the
writers as men, but the execution of their
subjects as poets. On this topic, the
tendency of their writings, we must of
necessity yield the palm to Milton, in pre-
ference to Shakspere, if we be true Chris-
tians. Blot out eyeiy book but Shakspere's,
and Christianity would be unintelligible,
it could not be understood from his stray
allusions; blot out every book but Paradise
Lost, and you would still have a glorious
epitome of our holy faith. I deny not that
many admirable lessons may be drawn from
the pages of Shakspere ; but I point to the fact
that the general tendency of his plays on the
mind would be to introduce laxity of morals,
and to ignore pure religion. I speak not of
those noble minds who can
"Find tongues in trees, books in the running
brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything."
Such men will find redeeming sentiments
<in the worst writers, and by the precious
alchemy of virtue, will extract the pure gold
of wisdom from the basest ores; much more
then from the richly veined passages of
Shakspere. He was pre-eminently the poet
of Nature, and she yet bears the impress of
her great Creator in her face; fallen though
she be, we can yet trace those lineaments of
beauty which were once declared to be " vezy
good." I speak of the effect of Shakspere*s
plays on the uncultivated mind. There is
perhaps no one play containing less objec-
tionable features than Macbeth, which so
strongly paints the power of conscience and
certain punishment of guilt; but any of my
readers who have watched its effect on a
laige audience, will (I imagine) hesitate to
say much of its educational tendency. The
contemplation of .Adam and Eve in their
state of innocence, will purify the mind, and
lead it to higher views of female worth
and excellence, than the Desdemonas and
Imogenes of Shakspere, beauteous and lovely
as ^ey are. The study of an archangel's
character drawn by a Milton's pen, must
have a more ennobling tendency tlum that of
Caliban, or the ghosts of Hamlet's father, or
of Banqao. The great philosophical effort
of Shakspere is in Hamlet, and henoe^
f . W. S. has termed it ** the impersonafcioa
of the great moral problem of our spiritoal
nature." What can we say of the monl
teachings of this celebrated work of genius?
It opens on a scene of murder and incest
Its progress shows guilt in power, geotIe>
ness stung into madness, nobility sunk m
misery; while Hamlet himself declares the
heartless, deadening doctrine of neoeesity ss
opposed to free will. 4t closes on an awfiil
scene of treachery, bloodshed, murder, and
suicide. Is this awful picture to be ranked
higher, as to its moral tendency, than the
pictures of Paradise with its Eden of
innocence, and its hell of rebellion, wh^re
vice never gains more than a temponiy
advantage, and where the eye of £uth is
directed in the darkest hour to the sublime
vision of the triune God guiding all things
according to his immutabk counseL Let
men act with reference to necessity and free
will as Hamlet tpeaka of them, in the scene
where he is waiting for the ghost, and this
world will then bea>me the stage on which
the tragic crimes and miseries of this play
will be daily acted. Hamlet is the limniog
of the darkest thunder* cloud that ever hung
over helpless humanity; as a sublime ood-
ception of genius, we estimate it as highly ss
any one can; as a moral lesson, we duink
with horror from its terrible exhibition d
Fate, Despair, and Death. No cheering tsj
appears to ruse our hopes; and we sink
slowly into the passive despair of the fatalist
until relieved by the soothing pictoies flf
a Divine Supreme, and of a hereafter of
righteous judgment, sung of in the sublime
strains of Milton; but unheard among the
** native wood-notes wild** of Shakspeie's
music
The moral tendency of Lear (peihsfs
Shakspere's greatest effort as apoei) is ahooit
as benumbing to our aspirations aa BamltU
The noble, though misjudging Lear, the
gentle Cordelia, the £utbful Kent, and higk
souled Edgar, are the victims of fibsl
ingratitude, unnatural hatied, base treaeheiyt
and fiendish cruelty. And the cnrtiiB
(after scenes of msidness and anguish, toe
painful almost to contemplate) dwkly £ib
on the lifeless bodies of the chief aeten. la
the same dark, hopeless saamier, the seoM
of Melfodose. We do not send men to ths
field of caniage to learn hamaaiky, or to tf*
f*-!.*'
WHICH WAS THX OBEATEST POET, MILTOW OB SHAKSPBRE?
381
guning-Uble to learn honeitj; nor shoald
we advise any one to stndy innocence suffer-
ing in a D^emona, passion raging in an
Othello, and yillanj triamphing in an Ii^^o,
in order to raise his moral character. What
is the tendency of Antony and Cleopatra f
Is not the character of Meaturefor Metuure
80 licentious as to want (even among the
idolizers of its author) a hearty defender?
Does not the Merry Wives of Windsor turn
lust into a pleasant jest, and exhibit a woman
trifling with her reputation, and tempting
her husband to jealousy, for the sake of a
fSew practical jokes ? Is not the moral of the
Tcuning of the Shrew disgraceful, and almost
ominous of that brutality to women, which,
to the disgrace of England, has necessitated
l^islative interference during the present
Bession of parliament? As a comic sketch,
the play is amusing; but its tendency con-
demns it as degrading to humanity. Com-
pared with these, how lofty, how pure, is
Milton*s poetry. Where is the passage
which can pain the most delicate, or offend
the most censorious? Milton carries us back
to the primeval state of happiness and
innocence, when our first parents ranged
through the bowers of Paraidise, blessed in
the enjoyment of all that heart could wish,
happy in their pure and mutual love, conscious
of the approving smile of Heaven, and con-
Tcrsing as obedient and favoured children
with £e great Father of their spirits; and
as we read, we are led to think of Him from
whom we have strayed, to yearn after that
State of holiness from which we have fallen,
sod to resolve to live more Godlike and
Christlike. Shakspere, on the other hand,
sketches fallen man, his fleeting joys, his
feeble virtues, his heavy sorrows, and heavier
crimes; we see him vainly struggling against,
and frequently sinking under the gigantic
powers of evil. One poet points us to our
Creator, tells us what we once were, and
again may be; the other only raises with
magic power an airy picture of the gilded
snnshine, of the short hour of our joy, or
the dark shadows of our crimes and sorrows.
The relative merits of Shakspere and
Milton cannot be decided by popular suffrage.
The "fit audience, though few" is rather the
characteristic of the highest genius. That
Shakspere is the more popular poet, we
jidmit; nor can we wonder, for he paints us
as we are, and we feel a personal interest in
the exquisite limnbg. Like Eve at the foun-
tain, we draw back only to gaze again *' with
answering looks of sympathy and love."
Our self-love is gratified to behold its image,
to find itself so thoroughly known and felt.
But from the purity of Eden, we shrink with
somewhat of awe. We feel our inferiority,
and we draw back from before the empyrean^
throne of Deity; we dread to walk the holy
groves of Paradise, the place is too sacred
for us. The poet points out the discipline
of the temper which we should exercise, the
purity of pleasures after which we should
aim, the expansive benevolence we should
practice to our fellow men, and the devout
communion we should hold with our God,
and the unregenerate heart turns away to-
the more congenial themes of earth. The
easy morality of Shakspere attracts us, and
suits our natural depravity and moral in-
dolence; but our wounded self-pride rises
against the stem morality and purity of
Milton; we turn from his faithful pages,
and neglect the poet because we dislike the
teacher. We leave the groves of Paradise,
albeit the " six-winged seraph" fills the gar-
den with ^the perfume of his wings," and in
his glory-.
*' Seems another mux
Bisen on mid>noon ;"
and we seek a more congenial haunt amid
the human revelry and coarse merriment of
Falstaff and his companions. The *' Boar's
Head," in East-cheap, is more suited to our
taste than Eden; the flippant jests and flouts
of Beatrice and Benedict please us more
than the sweet converse and conjoint worship
of Adam and Eve.
Queen Elizabeth and her courtiers laughed
at the pranks of the Merry Wives of Windsor,
and extended their favotirs to the poet of the
stage; his art was exercised to please the
throng of the pleasure-seeking multitude^
and consequently his popularity has become
unbounded. "He mingled with the crowd,
and played the host, * to make society the
sweeter welcome.' " How different has been
the fate of Milton. He spent health, strength
and sight in the cause of truth and patriotism,
but his efforts were imavailing. His works
were burnt by the hangman; the prelacy he
had opposed, sat supreme and intolerant in
the temple of God ; the commonwealth he
had advocated, was changed into a despotism ;
the hated form of the licenser stood tlueaten-
382
WHICH WAS THE ORKATE8T FOET, JilLTOH OK SBAKSPSBS?
iog mntllatioii to the immortal poem of the
great aothor of ** Areopagitica." Yet crashed
in spirit, blind, and aged, in povertj and
solitade, his migfatj genina ponred forth the
snblime etnins of **Panuliae LoeL" To ood-
template that despised, sightless, obscnre
M man, is the soblimest spectacle of hnman
might. Had Shakspen been snrroonded
with snch advene circumstances, we can
scarcely believe he wonld have leflt much
** witness to" his fame. The consideration
of their circumstances should lead ererj
impartial judge to rank Miltoo asthe greater
poet^ even if be esteemed his poetry inferior
to that of Shakspere. The might ^ a great
man*s genius is most seen in his power of
orerruling adverse circumstances.
The theme before us is so vast, that we
unconsciously find our space almost occupied
before our task is begun; we must therefore
rather sketch out the plan of our reasoning
than fairly follow it out. In determining
the relative merits of two writers as poets,
we ought, Jfr^, to define poetry ; to point out
wherein consist its highest attributes, and to
measure the authors by this standard ; and,
mcondl^t to compare those passages where
they touch on kindred themes. There is
perhaps nothing more difficult to define than
Poetry; and I fear that I shall not meet
with much sympathy, unless I adopt some
hyperbolical phrases, or fly off in rhapsodies.
It is surprising to find how completely
writers confound the subject-matter of poetry
with poetry itself; so that we find them
declaring that " all that is good and beau-
tiful" is poetry, or that ** fear is poetry, hope
is poetry, love is poetry," &c. The poet
simply unveils the beautiful and the sublime,
but does not create it Again, we frequently
confound poetry with imagination. Now, if
we carefully examine into the distinguishing
features of the works of those writers who,
by common consent, are denominated poets, I
think we shall find that poetiy may be
defined as a composition m elegant a$ui
decorated language o/ metrical eoiMfntcftOA,
the intention and aim of tohieh is to afford
inteUedual pfeature. Those who reflect that
poetry has always been the language of
rejoicing triumph, — ^that in the far-ofiT days
of Greece, she sung those deeds of heroes
which ever please the ear, and (as now)
added a zest to the festive hour, or soothed
in gentle strains the couch of sorrow, will
scarcely doubt Aat the object of poetry it
simply to afford pleasure aod not tnstraetian.
It comes to ns as a friend and oompsnigs,
not as a teacher. The necessity of metre
to poetry has often been disputed, but I
think witliout success, llilton spesks cf
poetry as ooosistingof
" Thoughts tliat roloDtuj'man;
Hannonioiis unmbera;**
and his authority must here suffice. Did
space allow, I think it would be easy to
establish that metre is an essential oouti-
tuent of poetry ; and I doubt not that those «f
my readers who fairly consider the questian,
will adopt this cooclusioo. Beoollecting Miltn
wrote above half a century later than Shaks>
pere, I am content to aUow an equality <if
merit between these two grest poets as regards
their use of language; and though I think
that Milton has shown a more nniform and
constant foultlessness of metre than Shak>>
pere, and am prepared to support thatepina
by examples, yet I sbsll pass on to the eon-
sidention of Uie third part of my definitioo.
The object of poetry is to give intefiectosl
pleasure, by gratifying the imagination snd
exciting the emotions. The four prindpsl
qualities requisite for attaining these ends
are beauty, grandeur, sublimity, and novelty.
In comparing ihe poetiy of IClton and
Shakspere on these heads, we think the
superiority of llilton becomes at oooe
apparent. His subject has a grandeur snd
sublimity the passions of hnmanitj can lay
no claim to, and he has risen up to tJut
subject; he has surrounded it with ereiy
association of earthly beauty, grandeur, ssl
passion, and has thus brought it vrithin the
grasp oif our intdlect; and yet, so exoellatly
has he accomplished the task, that his these
never suflers from this inteimingling of tbe
spiritual with the physicsl, of heaven with
earth. He formed himself on the bercnksa
model proposed by Coleridge ss neecsssiy
for a great epic poet; he studied all the
science of his age; he masterad all tbs
history, all the poetry, all the knowledge af
his time. Loaded with the intellcotual speih
of all ages, he commenced his great inxt
In the burning words of Hazlett we may s^,
that he "'exhausted" all knowledge, \a&
*^ sacred and profane. The power of his mad
is stamped on every line. Tbs fervew of
his imagination melts down, as in a fiuiuK,
the most contradictory materiaU.
OUGHT THE LAW OF PRIMOGENITURE TO BE REPEALEDV
383
iog his workB, we feel oaraelves under the
inflaeDce of a mightj intellect, that the
nearer it approaches to others, beoomes more
distinct from them. IJis learning hat the
effect ofintmtion. He describes objects, of
which be could have only read in books, with
the vividness of actual observation. Uis
imagination has the force of nature. Ue
makes words tell as pictures." Proofs of
the tmth of these remarks occur continually
in Milton's poetry, but where shiill we find
smything of this in Shakspere? Sbakspere
aets geography at defiance, and blunders in
chronology ; his allusions to ordinary leam-
hig are of such a doubtful character, that it
is to this day unknown whether he ever
received a tolerable education or not. Nor
let it be supposed that this was a purposed
<Miiission of Shakspere, for we find him
lingering round a pun, and dwelling on a few
^ terms of art;*' as some one has said, he
** describes the ailments of Petruchio s horse
ss though he were bred a farrier." Indepen-
dent of mere obsolete words, there are far
more words in Shakspere which would send
an ordinary reader to his dictionary, than in
Paradise Lost, with all its teeming allusions
to ancient lore. The character of Milton's
poetry is sublimity and intensity; of Shaks-
pere's simplicity and discursiveness. As a
writer justly remarks, Shakspere ''never
insists on anything as much as he might,
«3Lcept a quibble." How«iuch would Shaks-
pere's poetry be reduced if we cut out those
interminable and petty series of punning and
trifling which oontinuidly occur. In passages
of beauty we are inclined to admit that
Shakspere equalled Milton, but he did not
surpass him ; nothing can surpass the '
beauties so thickly strewn throughout the
minor poems of Lycidas, Penseroso, and
Ail^o, to which we tmlj apply the remarks j
of Coleridge, and say, " they are speckless
diamonds." Even in descrilMng Nature,
Milton has shown himself no way inferior to
Shakspere. Let the reader compare that
exquisite passage in Lycidas, commencing,
*' Ketum, Alpheus ; the dread voice," &&,
with any description of flowers in Shakspere,
and his verdict will not be agahut Milton.
In beauty, then, we think Milton equal with,
and in grandeur and sublimity superior to
Shakspere. In that strangeness wherein the
pleasure of novelry consists, Milttm had
advantages in his subject of which his
genius took full advantage. In description
Milton is undoubtedly superior; witness his
painting of Adam and Eve, and of the
angelic hosts ; they are presented to us in all
the exact and classic grandeur of sculpture;
they ** have all the elegance and precision of
a Greek statue ; glossy and impurpled, tinged
with golden hght, and musical as the strings
of Memnon's harp."
But I must close these hasty sketches and
imperfect reasonings, hoping that my readers
will follow out for themselves that train of
thought, that close inquiry into the nature
and qualities of poetry, and that careful
application of the results of such inquiry,
which I have so crudely outlined. Of the
result I have little doubt. The readers of
this magazine belong to the class of truth
seekers and thinkers, and they will, I be-
lieve, ever yield to Milton a higher praise and
deeper admiration than they accord to the
Bard of Avon, though, when compared with
all other poets, they may share an undoubted
supremacy. Of MUton, we may truly say,
" Yet not more sweet
Than pure was be, and uot more pure than wise;
High Priest of all Uie Muses* mysteries."
H. B.
OUGHT THE LAW OF PRIMOGENITURE TO BE REPEALED?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
It has been truly remaiked that if an
Englishman ** would understand the history
of his country, the origin of its poUtical con-
stituticm, the tenure of its landed property,
and the general basis of its polity, he should
make himself acquainted with" the feudal
384
OUGHT THK ULW OF FBIMOOSHITURB TO BB REPBALBD?
Bjstem, — " the kwof natioDs in oar western
world." The trath of this is involved in the
present ioqairy, as it regards the sabject of
primogenitore. The origin of primogeniture
belongs to the feadal system, although it
was not a primordial feature of that system.
It grew out of it. It was one of its nnmerous
results. FeocUif fiefs, or feads, were portions
of land — estates — given by the Conqueror to
the different members of his army, according to
their rank, exploits, or favour with the victor.
These lands were held under the coudltion
that such landholders should render propor-
tionate military services in defence of the
recognised lord. These *' fiefis originally re-
verted to the grantor on the vassaFs death."
It was not till feudalism had lost much of
its primitive character, that the law of pri-
mogeniture was introduced. Indeed, we are
inclined to view it as one of those regulations
which ultimately secured the abolition of
feudalism. It tended to limit both the power
and personal influence of the grantor, or
recognised chief. Prior to the introduction
of the law of primogeniture, the lord possessed
a power which was, after that event, greatly
limited, from the circumstances of the case.
It would prove an interesting research to
trace out the course of events, and various
influences, which led to this radical change,
during the first ages of feudalism. It was,
doubtless, in its origin an encroachment on
the leading power, which increased as gene-
ration after generation passed away, producing
endless antagonism, until it became a recog-
nised social law. Indeed, was it not the
democratic element overwhelming the mo-
narchic power ^ in a rude state of society ?
But we have other and more important
branches of research, to which we proceed
(having shown the origin of primogeniture),
proving that it and its attendants ought to
to be repealed, on the principle that society
and legislation are progressive.
We shall first consider it in the light of
actual law, and learn whether it comes up
to the high standard of law as the embodi-
ment of j ustice. This is an important point ;
and we hesitate not to assert that it is con-
trary to justice and natural right, which
claims an equality for Uie children of the
»am£ parents. That the succession should
devolve on the first-bom is an arbitrary
-arrangement, contrary to natural right, will
be evident if we ask, What is it, m the first
place, that gives or institutes the claim
itself? The only reply is— &triA. If this
is granted, the fact of birth naturally implies
a right to sncoession. The eqvality of Urth
implies equality in succession, accordin<: to
the simple dictate of natural right. The
law of primogeniture, then, inasmuch ss it
gives to but one the prerogative of all, accord-
ing to natural right, is in itself unjust sod
imperfect, and for this primal reason demands
repeal.
Having learned the origin of the law, the
reader will not be surprised that it should
be thus unjust £» se. It is but the embodi-
ment of the principle which always pwails,
more or less, in a rude state of society — that
r^ht is subordinate to might. The surprise
will be, that the embodiment of such a prin-
ciple should have been recognised for so
many ages as law! But it stands in the
same ignoble category as transportation, ejie^
cntion, &&; things altogether incompatible
with the first principles of justice, the pro-
gressive nature of law and society, experience,
wisdom, and the noblest sentiments of huma-
nity.
The fact that the law of primogeniture is
unjust in itself is granted by the law, which
limits it in one portion of the kingdom to
such an extent, that alt the sons of the same
family enjoy their natural prerogative; that
there is no right of primogeniture among fe>
males, the crown excepted, and which was wt
itself appropriated to the first-bom, Maunder
informs us, till the race of Hugh Capet
We do not, though we might, resort to his^
tory to furnish an antecedent.
II. It is a law repugnant to natural feeling
and sentiment; and therefore ought to be
repealed.
That all the children of a deceased paxect
should share equally in the parental p«^es-
sions, is the dictate of the heart as well ts
of the reason. That one should monopohie
to himself those possessions, and thus rob,
it may be, the infant and nnconscioos meis-
bers of the family, is, we think, a ertsie, not
leas odious than that which gives man pos-
session of his fellow-man. Could it be
proved that no first-bora had ever robbed
the younger children, it would be nothing ia
favour of the law; but rather a high com-
pliment to the integrity and natnrsl goodaes
of mankind, which, despite the sanction «f
human law, denied set/', and obeyed tbe
OUGHT THB ULW OF PBDfOOEXITURB TO BE REPEALED?
385
higher dictates d luktare! Bot this cannot
be proved! The contrary maj be; for there
are Tery few old standing families in the
Uind, except in Kent where gavel-kind still
exists, whose history would not "many a
tale unfold/' harrowing to the tenderest
feelings of the heart!
III. It is a law frequently productive of
political discoixi and national misery. Poli-
tical, we say, for what worse thing can befal
a nation, than that the law should place on
the throne an effeminate and unwise prince;
a man of little mind, vile principles, imcon-
trollable passions; it may be, a wretch in
every sense. And why? A weighty reason
there ought to be, for thus endangering the
best interests of a nation — for placing the
zcgal diadem on the brow, and the potent
aceptre in the hand of a spendthrift — Richard
II., or a murderer — Richard III., or a
human monster — Henry VIII., or a volup-
tuary— Charles II., or a bigot and hypocrite
— James II.!
Can it be that law has sanctioned such
things because such characters happened to
be the next in the primogenial line of succes-
sion! History teaches some terrible lessons
on this subject! When will men leani wis-
dom?
IV. It is frequently productive of social
misery.
The law protects the first-bom ; yea, sanc-
tions his conduct, though he disr^ard the
natural claims of the junior branches of hia
family, and bring upon them misery and
poverty untold, by his inhuman conduct!
There is no redress for them; they have
only the wide world for a home, or the union
for a shelter!
Thomas Carlyle says, " A man willing to
work, and unable to find work, is perhaps
the saddest sight that fortune's inequality
exhibits under this sun.'* Perhaps! Had
Thomas Carlyle cast the radiance of his
keen, penetrating genius on this question,
he had, though horribile dictu^ seen many a
sadder sight than that! A nation ruined,
pro tempore^ by law! An orphan family
beggared, sorrow-stricken twice, dumb with
grievous thought, cast upon the icy sympa-
thies of a fallen world, by law! It is a sad
thing to write about ; but it is a veritable fact !
Of primogeniture what sayest thou, 0 reader?
ROLLA.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— I.
The object of the discussions which appear
from time to time in these pages, is not merely
to draw forth the talents and to cultivate
the intellectual powers of the writers; they
are intended to exert an influence on the
minds of readers, and thereby to subserve
the interests of truth in religion and poUtics,
to farther the great cause of human happi-
ness, and to aid in the development of social
progress. When, therefore, it is proposed (as
in the present instance) to discuss the pro-
priety of abolishing an important part of
the institutions and laws of this great nation,
it becomes our duty to inquire what would be
the effect of such abolition, — whether the in-
stitution in question is one which must neces-
sarily and immediately be replaced by a more
perfect substitute, or whether we may safely
defer tlie consideration of that substitute to a
faturt period, or dispense with it entirely.
Kow we believe that the law of primogeniture
belongs to the former of these two classes;
it would be almost impossible to repeal it,
without at the same time providing a sub-
stitute for it. Governing, as a law of inhe-
ritance or succession, the devolution of the
entire real property of the kingdom, the law
of primogeniture cotnes into daily and hourly
action. It forms part of the very framework
I of society ; abolish it, and the whole nation
I would be thrown into a state of irretrievable
: confusion, and reduced to a state bordering
I on anarchy. If these remarks be true,
, those who defend the English law of pri-
mogeniture on the present occasion, might
fairly claim the right to "rest upon their
arms,** and to reserve their defence, until
their antagonists have fairly explained and
fully developed their own substitute for the
present law of inheritance ; but, since the
rules and practice of the British- Contro-
versialist necessitate the simultaneous ap-
pearance of opening articles on each side of
the various questions in debate, we must
necessarily waive, or at least modify, the
claim, and content ourselves by enforcing on
our opponents, that however cogent their
arguments agunst primogeniture, it ought
not, and cannot, be abolished until an efilcient
substitute has been provided to replace it.
986
OUOBT THB UkW OF nOMOOBSCRORB TO BE BBPBAUO)?
We shall, now proceed to point oat tome of
the peculiar advantages of primogenitnie as
compared with anj ^bar fl^rm of the law of
SQCcessioD, and to offer a slight defence of it
«8 a nsefnl institation, though, far the reasons
already stated, we shall speak mora briefly
and cnnorily than is ordinarily desiiaUe, at
the opening of an impartant debate.
Pximogenitnre has now had nndivided
sway over the dispositioin of the real estate
cf intestates for upwards of 500 yean. It
has thus become a time-hononred inrtitatioo,
interwoven with the habits and a^bctions of
society; and has, therefore, a prescriptive
right to onr reverence. It has had a great
share in forming the politacal chancier of our
nation; and we have litUe to complain of its
eflSects. To change it now, will be to discard
mn old and tried system — to ezdiange (in
the words of Lord Bacon) ** a costom which,
though it be not good, at least is fit," for
novelties which ''trouble by theur incon-
fonnity." Blackstone tells us that " the law
«f inheritance," of which the institution in
question fonns an important part, " is a point
of the highest importance, and indeed the
principal object of all the laws of real property
in England;" so that an abolition of the
law of primogeniture would shake the whole
system of English law to the very founda-
tion. The whole system, therefore, of our
laws and government would receive a severe
shock. Kow, to justify such dangerous inno-
vations, the necessity should be extreme;
does any such necessity exist? Has primo-
geniture worked any dire evils, or brought
down any heavy calamities on our land?
A few extreme politidana, jealous of our
noble aristocracy, have raised their voice
against it, and a fow philosophical and eco-
nomical writers have c<»idemned it on
theoretical grounds; but surely this is not
sufficient to warrant so violent a change in
onr social polity. There are other writers,
as eminent, who have defended it; there are
other politicians, more worthy of oar atten-
tion, who have declared in its favour. Let
those who truly love England's institutions,
and prize her liberties, pause ere they inter-
meddle with a principle so thoroughly
inwrought into her social existence, and re-
member the words of ODB of her greatest sons,
''It is good not to try experiments in states,
except the necessity be urgent, or the utility
•vident; and well to b6waro that it be the
nformatifln which drawcth on the cfaangt,
and not the desire of change that pretendetb
the reformation."
The right of property has been much dis-
puted, and has been bssed oo many diffotat
prindpies; perhaps no satisfactory proof of
its origin and moral prt^iriety has yet been
given. At the same time it seems to form
a necessary part of the moral disdpliiie of
man, and to rest en the innate prindplM of
his nature. Without property, sodeCy eooU
not exist; and the veiy inequalities in iti
distribution have a beneficial ^ect on society,
by stimulating all the energies of msnkind,
and strengthening those powers of foresight
and cootrifmnoe which especially distingnish
man from the beasts. It has, however, bea
doubted, even by those who admit the right
and necessity of property, whether all power
ought not necessarily to cease with thedesth
of its owner; and whether the state, or the
children and other relatives of the late owner,
ought not to have an indefeasible title to suc-
ceed him. It is not easy to dedde these
questions on moral or philosopliical gnoods.
As a genenl rule, testamentary powcn in
early times seem to have been very slight, or
entirely denied, but to have graduaUy in-
creilBed with the pi-ogrees of civilizatioL*
In our own country, this onward progrea
has been oontimied, until we have at preKOt
an unlimited and £ree power of disposing aui
devising all kinds of property by wilL This
fact has a most important relation to pri-
mogeniture, in softening all its hanber
effects, and even changing its voy natai*.
Primogenitnre as a r^kt can no longer be
said to exist; the owner of an estate msr st
any moment destroy the right by malung bis
wilL In the heyday of feudalism, befoe
alienation by will was permitted, prioo-
geniture was a rif^ht (possessed by the eldest
son} to sooceed to all the real estate, or, as it
was then termed, to all the lands md tene-
ments of his fether, to the entire exclosMC
of his younger brothen. From this aadfli
rigki has arisen the modem amtam of settliof
the landed estates of great familioi oo tbe
eldest son. Primogeniture, then, in tUi
country is only a cmttom, not a lew,*— ti
suffered, and not established. Oonvinct tfl
" Tb« Roman law is a ronarkaU* cxc^wa-
The Roman cidzen« eren before tbe lairs of tbf
twelve tables teem to have bad Uie power of
•ppoinling a sac
OUOHT THX LAW OF PBZMOOByiTURB TO BB BBPBALXD?
887
the landholden of the nation of the iropoKcy
or immoralitj of primogenitore, and they
bare it in their power to aboIiBh it by the
simple process of making their wills. No
legislative interference is required to secnre
its downfiill ; its fate is in the hands of the
people. Are mj opponents prepared to
forbid the practice and oontimiance of this
ctutomf Are they desirous of curtailing
that free and fall liberty of disposal which
every Englishman now possesses? Unless
they are willing thus to play tyrant, what
more do they want than they now possess?
They may (if they choose) divide their own
property, after the fashion of gavel-kind,
among all their sons equally, or, in imitation
of B<wough-£ngrish, they may devise it to
their youngest son exclusively; and they are
perfectly free and welcome to try the effect
of their persuasive eloquence on their neigh-
bours. What more can they desire?
We may now notice two peculiar advan-
tages incident to primogeniture. The first
of these is, that it is absolutely necessary as a
means of maintaining the honours and dignity
of a titled aristocracy like our own, where
territorial power and sggrandisement form an
indispensable part of their state. I imagine
that there are but few, if any, readers
of the Controvernaiisiy who require that this
branch of our ** threefold bond of government '*
should here be vindicated as an essential
and desirable element of the British consti-
tution. Nothing would be a more serious
injury to our ''hereditary legislators" than
the attempt to destroy the custom of primo-
geniture; and this one fact will, we believe,
be a sufficient reason with the majority of
<nir countrymen for supporting the negative
^de of the proposition now under debate.
The second great advantage of primo-
geniture is, that it checks the minute sub-
division of land. " Though there can be littJe
doubt of the injurious consequences that
must always flow from every attempt to
regulate the succession to property by means
of compulsory regulations, there are good
grounds for thinking that the cugtom of
primogeniture, or the custom of leaving the
whole, or the greater part, of the paternal
estate to the eldest sod, to the exclusion of
his brothers and sisters, has been advan-
tageous. The prejudices of most political
philosophen against primogeniture seem to
rest on no solid foundation. Dr. Smith says,
that it is custom which, ' in order to enrich
one, beggars all the rest of the children;'
but, so £u from agreeing in this opinion, we
cannot help thinking, that to it may be
fairly ascribed much of the industry, free-
dom, and dviUsation of modern Europe; and
that were it abolished, and the custom of
equally ^viding landed property established
in its stead, all the children of landlords, the
youngest as well as the oldest, would be
reduced to a state of oomparativie poverty, at
the same time that the prosperity of the
other classes would be greatly impaired."
(Smith's ''Wealth of Nation, Notes by
M'CuUoeh," p. 564.) The editor continues
the note by showing that in the case of
UatdiolHi the custom oigaveXImg or dividing
the paternal inheritance had prevailed in
Ireland, while the opposite system of primo-
geniture had been adopted in Scotland. In
the one case, agriculture had sunk progres-
sively, while the farms had dwindled into
" mere patches ;" in the other case, the farms
had become gradually larger, while the capital
employed in, and the profits derived firooo^
agriculture had risen continuously. The
only mode of preventing a minute subdivision
of Isnd seems to be by adopting primo-
geniture as one of the " canons of descent."
Of the desirability of preventing that sub-
division, there can, on serious thought, be
scarcely any doubt. The fatal effects of
petty fanning are the cause of the greater
part of Ireland's woes ; it has demoralised
and paoperised the peasantry; it has ruined
the landlords; it has reduced sgricultnre to
the mere cultivation of the potato. In
France, the subdivision of ownership has
produced pauperism and wretchedness, and
has been the fmitfnl source of continual
convulsion, revolution, and anarchy. The
French peasantry have become the helots
and dependents of the towns' population.
"Small properties much divided prove the
greatest source of misery that can possibly
be conceived; and this operated to an extent
and degree in France, that a law undoubtedly
ought to be passed, to render all division
below a certain number of arpents illegaL'*
(" Tnvels in France," voL i. p. 414). Our
safeguard against these evils is in the main-
tenance of our law of primogeniture. Beader I
by the love you bear the land of liberty in
which you dwell, we chum, on her behalf,
and for her sake, your yerdict. B. &
888
OUGHT TRAX8PORTATIOH TO BE ABOUSHBD?
Inml (Etmnnm*
OUGHT TRANSPORTATION TO BE ABOLISHED?
AFFIRMATIVE ARTICLE. -II.
" It is a shameftil aud unblessed thing to take
the scum of people, and wicked, condemned men,
to be the people with whom you plant; and not
only so, but it spoileth the plantation ; for they
will ever lire like ro^es, and not fUl to work,
bat be lazy, and do mischief, and spend victuals,
and be quickly weary, and then certify over to
their country to the discredit of the plantation."
Bacon.
In turning OTor the pages of a late poptilar
edition of the far-famed essays of l<ord Bacon,
for the purpose of transcribing the abore
emphatic condemnation of transportation,
my attention was drawn to the following
editorial apology for this part of pnr penal
jnrispmdence: — "Of course this censure
would not apply to what is primarily and
essentially a conTict colony, the object of
which is to drain the mother country of its
impure superfluities." This extract contains
so pithy an abridgment of the arguments
utualhf urged in defence of transportation,
that I think I cannot, at this early stage of
the present debate, perform a more essential
serTice than to expose the absolute fallacy
and untruth of the assumptions on which
the reasoning in question is based. If I can
succeed in indncing my opponents at once to
yield (in the spirit of truth-seeking candour)
these indefensible outposts, from which they
must eventually be driven to retract, much
Taluable time and space will be saved, and
the controrersy will be more speedily and
thoroughly brought to a decisive and prac-
tical issue. The reader will perceive that
the quotation contains two assumptions: —
1. That we transport our convicts to coun-
tries " primarily and essentially" intended as
convict colonies. 2. That transportatioif, as
a punishment, is intended merely as a mode
of draining this country of its criminal
population. Let us examine these positions.
With reference to the first assumption, a
inoment*s consideration will suffice to satisfy
every candid reader that it is a direct
(though, probably, unintentional) untrtttA,
With the petty exception of Norfolk Island,
which is merely the condemned cell of an*
manageable nuscreants transported there
from the other penal settlements, and not from
this country directly, we have not one ocJonj
in our wide empire which is " primarily and
essentially a convict colony." No one ever
dared to presume that we either intended, or
even dreamt of appropriating the **fijlh con-
tinent" of Australasia as a mere abode for
** the scum of our own little island; and is
the case of the Cape of Good Hope, the
colony was planted by the Dutch some hun-
dred years before it came into our possessioB
in 1795; and yet, in 1851, we endeaToozvd.
at the risk of rebellion, to force our " refuse
humanity" on its inhabitants!* The second
assumption noticed above has, at the first
view, a somewhat plausible appearance; bot
I imagine that no one who has one spark d
humanity in his breast, or the least sense rf
natural justice, social expediency, or nationil
honour, can, on calm deHberation, adopt the
sentiments it contains. If the mother conn-
try alone were to be considered, and if the
fate of the offender were to be disregarded,
this idea of ** drainage" would still be bat t
sorry expedient for lessening crime. The
criminals of this country are but the poDnted
streams which flow from hidden /bttntams o/
moral iniquity; so that the attempt to porlff
the nation by merely " draining" off the toa-
victed offenders would be but a repetition, m
effect, of the fabled labour of the Danaides—
an attempt to fill " a tub full of holes." B&t
this idea is not simply foolish; it embodies
and disguises a most atrodous theory; it
regards all criminals, without distinction, as
mere refuse, or vermin, which are to be
simply got rid of by any means. The hui-
ened villain who has committed the most
malignant crimes, and ia sentenced to tnuos-
portation for life, and the strongly-temptel
and now repentant neophyte in crime, viM
is sentenced but to five years* banishmest>
are alike to be regarded (aooordiog to this
theory) as "impure superfluities," to be
drained off into some antipodean cesspool in
the hope that they will never return here.
OUGHT TRAVSPORTATIOM TO BE ABOLISHED?
389
Thus all idea of equity and natural jostice
18 confounded, and our penal code becomes
one of unmitigated and undistingnisbing
severitj. We cannot but agree with Bentham
in thinking it a pity for those who adopt
such ideas that they cannot place their pet
institutions (penal colonics) in the moon,
where the improbability of a convict's return
would be converted into an impossibility,
and the expense of a military guard would
be saved ; or in suggesting to them that the
oode of Draco, by planting the penal colonies
in the ^rare-yard, effectually prevented any
regurgitation of the foul streams of iniquity
that bad once been drained off. I presume
'ihat no reader of the Controversialist will be
found to approve of these legitimate deduc-
tions from the degrading theory as to the end
•f criminal punishments on which we have
been remarking. Let no one, then, be un-
candid enough to adopt the premises while
he denies their conclusions.
But not only are the assumptions of which
I have spoken untrue in fact, and degrading
in theory and sentiment, but they are also
purely hypothetical ; they suppose a system
which never existed, and lay down a theory
oC penal jurisprudence which was never
adopted. It is to this point I especially
desire to call the attention of my opponents.
We are to discuss transportation as it
aetuaUy exists^ and not as they may choose
to suppose that it might be. I beseech all
who engage in this controversy, by the love
they bear, and the allegiance they owe, to
troth, to lay aside all model theories of what
thej may deem to be a perfect system of
tzansportation, and to remember that we are
not discussing what system of secondary
ponishments might be substituted for it, but
I limply whether we are to retain it in its
t jpresent form. I have seen a suggestion for
** tnnsporting^ all our criminals to the coal-
: minee, and making their daily supplies of
fiMd dependent on the produce of their labour,
thus rendermg escape impossible, and punish-
ment real to the offender and profitable to
the community. Now, with the merits of
•nch theories we have, in the present debate,
nothing to do; and the supposition of a per-
ftct system of transportation is as purely
Situitous and irrelevant to the question
ore US. I hope that none of my supporters
will encnmber tiieir aiguments and embarrass
their pocition by Tcntnriog to propose a sub-
stitute for the punishment they would abolish ;
but in case any writer shoidd think other-
wise, it will, nevertheless, be a mere vexations
waste of argument for our opponents to
object to such plans, unless they can prove
that their objections are stronger and more
numerous than those urged against trans-
portation. The most pitiful disputant may
raise objections; for perfection is no attribute
of human plans ; and in the present case such
a course can only result in merely desultory
war of opinion on an irrelevant topic The
defects of Millbank Penitentiary are no de-
fence of transportation ; nor are the faults or
mismanagement (if they exist) of Parkhurst
or Pentonville any reason for sending con-
victs to the golden lands of South Australia.
The two great objects of punishment are
to award retrihutum for crimes committed,
and to secure prevention of future crimes.
The first of these objects we believe to be
out of man's province. "Vengeance is mine;
I will repay," saith the Lord. Man has
neither the right nor the power to apportion
punishments exactly to the moral guilt of
the offender; Kadjust vengeance can only be
determined by the great Searcher of hearts,
to whom alone the degree of moral turpitude
is in each case known. For man, who is (in
the eye of moral justice) on a broad level of
equality with all his fellow- men, to inflict
evil for evil where no advantage is gained
but that of ministering gratification to his
own feelings of revenge, is not only forbidden
expressly by the Founder of our holy religion,
but b even plainly contrary to the law of
nature, as discoverable by reason alone.
Resentment is placed in the breast of man as
a sentiment of se{/^protection, and not, as a
judge, to award punishment to others. The
same reasoning holds good of man in the
social state— of the community at large;
and penal jurisprudence should properly be
directed to the security and protection of
society against crime, and not in any degree
to an attempt to repay the offender in kind.
Prevention of crime, therefore, is the primary
object of penal punishment. The other
chief advantages which are to be desired are,
compensation to be afforded by the criminal
to society at lai^ge, or to the party specially
injured, when there is one; and economy to
the state in disposing of its criminal popula-
tion. These two latter considerations may
be passed over briefly. In the case of com-
990
OUOBT TBAS8FOBTATIOV tO
pcnsAtioo, either to ■oeiely or p«rtical«r
indiTidoala, trMMportetioa has no claims to
attentioii; the conriek ia as aaprofitabla to
tUs ooantry as though he were exeeated
instead of transported; the oolj peraon who
gains any adTantage hj this mode of ponish-
meot being the colonist who employs the
oooriot in the penal colony, and thos obtains
the pecnmaiy adTsntages of slare labonr
withont either the odium or ezpenae of sUve-
trading, and who has no claim to considera«
tion on this qnestion. Condemned, there-
fore, on the one subeidiary head of eompen-
saiionf kt us examine what advantages
transportation offerB in respect of economy.
Benthamj in his letter to Lord Pelham,
entitled '^ Panopticon eerstf* New Sonth
Wales," enteiB mto calculations, by which he
shows the penitentiary eystem to be oon>
Biderably cheaper than transportation; bnt
as I am not aware whence he drew his dfota^
and as the relative expense of the two sys-
tems may have greatly changed since the
date at which he wrote, I do not feel justified
in pressing his conclusions. Indeed, I find,
from the papers on convicts and convict
fiscipline presented to the houses of parlia-
ment in 1851, that in the preceding year
(1850) only 5,716 convicts were maintained
by government, out of a total of 21,437 then
m exile in Van Diemen's Land. It is dif-
ficalt to imagine that any system of prison
discipline in this country can succenfoUy
eompete, in respect of economy, with trans-
portation, when the latter is so managed as
to get rid alike of the care and expense of
three out of every four convicts, as in the
ease of Van Diemen*s Land. At the same
time, in the absence of all authoritative
evidence of the relative cost of onr various
systems of prison discipline, as compared with
that of transportation, I presume that no
one will venture to pronounce decidedly in
fiivonr of the latter, unless he is able to sub-
stantiate his judgment by the prodoctioa of
those statistieal data which I have been nn-
aMe to discover. If we grant, however, that
in this respect transportation offen greater
advantt^es than any other punishment (ex-
eepting death), it must still be remembered
that pecuniary economy must not for a
moment be allowed to weigh against the
higher oonsiderationB of jnstioe, humanity,
Slid expediency.
I havB pointed out that the chief and
primary object of penal punishment is the
prevention of crime. This has a twoftrfd
relation : — 1. The prevention of farther
ofiences by the particnUr individaa] puoisbed,
which is to be insured either by his rtfar'
matioHj i, e., by curing him of the wlii to
oflend, or by his meapaeiiaiioni i. e^ by
taking away from him the power of oiead-
ing. 2. The prevention of crime gooenJlT,
by making a particular individual an o-
oJNipfe, and thereby deterring others from the
commission of similar crimes through the
appraheninon of similar suffarings. Let n>
first notice the action of transportatioa ao
the individaal ofiender. In the first par-
ticular (reformation), it wholly and entirdy
fails. The bare necessaries of life, the hap-
piness and morality of the ecmvict became
the mere sport of dreamstaaee. He may
become the uncontrolled and liotoos retains
of some settler but little higher thsa himself
in the scale of civilisation, or the bond-slare
of a ferocious taskmaster; but is neeessarilr
cast out from all influeneea that might set
beneficially <m his moral and spiritual natorc
Like the aged and infirm among barbarisa
tribes, the convict is cast out from society—
exposed to danger and death by a h»g ses-
voyage, with all its risks of contagion sal
shipwreck, and b at length landed at tbe
antipodes, where tbe uncertainty of the late
which awaits him must destroy every sCref-
gling aspiration to enter the paths of virtu,
where fortune and wealth may possM;
rrown his villainy, or where the chain-gio^,
the fetters, and the laah, may stifle ererf
sentiment of humanity, until be beeooes
** more fiend than man." The progresi isd
result of transportation on those who vo6er^
its horrora are thus described by an eye-wit-
ness and em advocate : — -" Those who bsvr
the yoke of bondage still about their seeks
are a sort of half honest, half sober, bilf
provident profligates, compared with tbM
whose term is at an end.* And the rpp«t
of the select committee on tnnsportstia
emphatically dedans that transportstMS
poBsessts a '^ remarhMe ejkienejf^ w»' «
reforming^ 6«< «» j<fl/ fm tket comfimf,
tkote vko tmdenfo the pmmhmetdT ^^
testimonies are dedsire of tlM ^oesliea «
to the moral result of tranapevtation on tbi
ofiender ; and it is at once a natsonal disgnf*
and a national sin, thst now (fiflecn vmi*
after tbe report from whkh we hare qoiKad
OUGHT TIL.12ISPOETATIO!r TO BE ABOUSHED ?
391
was issQcd) we are still engaged in " further
oormpting" oar criminalB, and in ontraging
the feeling of onr emigrants and colonists.
With regard to the effect of transportation
in incapacitating the offender from commit-
ting crime, it is only partially snccessfiil. If
the sentence is short, the conTict maj retnm
here more hardened in iniqaitj, and not nn-
frequently actoally pays for his passage home
hf means of colonial plunder. If all con-
victs were transported for life, the panish-
xnent would work well as a means of inca-
peidtating the offenders from future crimes;
bat under the present system the majority
of the convicts are at liberty to retnm to
this country after the ezpiratipn of the dif-
fereot terms for which they are sentenced ;
tbcir " will" is corrupted and depraved, and
then their ^ power** to do evil is restored, — so
that the punishment really becomes a fruit-
ful cause, instead of an efficient preventive.
o£ crime.
The effect of transportation as an example
m deterring others from the commission of
crime is an absolute failure. Wo have in-
■tances of prisoners in Newgate even changing
dothes with each other in order to get trans-
ported. It has again and again been stated
tiiat prisoners prefer transportation to im-
priooomcnL The labouring classes of this
OOUDtry are largely imbued with the idea
tliat transportation is a fortunate event, and
a generally happy lot, from having heard of
tlie few instances where convicts have suc-
oecded in obtaining wealth and comfort in
the antipodes. In fact, transportation is a
mere lottery, with a few golden prizes amid
its thousand blanks; and while cupidity
ftrma so large an element of human cha-
xacter, numbers will stake their all upon the
chance of success. They may not be dis-
covered; and, if discovered and apprehended,
they may not be convicted ; and, if convicted,
the resiilt may be wealth and comfort they
can never attain here. Through the long
Tista Off uncertainties which attends the
commission of a crime, they see only the
•nceessful, and neither know nor care for
the thousands who have tasted the inhuman
horrors which may fall to the lot of all or
WDj convict. 1 believe there is scarcely a
peaMnt in England, of the lower and more
degraded and uneducated classes from which
the bulk of criminals arise, who has ever
heard of the existence of Norfolk Island, the
very establishment which would be the most
effective example. The false ideas formed
on the subject of transportation are strikingly
illustrated by the correspondence between
Karl Grey and the govemoniof our Australian
colonies, published by order of the Houses of
Parliament in 1851, from which we find that
the convicts actually com|dain that, even in
the prUouA ofthU cmmtry^ they were officially
taught to expect a life of ease and freedom ( !);
and Sir William Denison, the governor of Van
Diemen's Land, is compelled to urge strongly
that some measures should be taken by the
home government to spread among the people
a true knowledge of the miseries of trans-
p(Hlation. With such instances before us,
and accustomed continually to find that per-
sons actually commit crimes (or the avowed
purpose of receiving sentence of transporta-
tion, it seems needless to enter further into
the value of this punishment as an example.
All punishment, to act effectual ly as an
example, must have at least three qualities;
it must be certain^ reafy and opparenL
Transportation is destitute of each one of
these qualities. To suppose that a process
carried on at our antip«)des can have any
sensible effect on tlie ignorant and degraded
beings who mobt require to be warned by
example, is a species of hallucination closely
bordering on lunacy. The conclusions of
the select committee of 1838 are thus ex-
pressed : — •* Tfie ttco main characteristics of
tratuportatirm as a pwushmerU are, m-
ejficiemcy in dcterriug from crime, and re-
markable efficiency, not in reforminff, but m
still further corruptinff, those who wuler^
the punishment ; ami that these qualities of
inefficiency ftjr Qood and efficiency for evil
are inherent in the system, which is noi^
therefore, susceptible of any satisfactory
ianprovemenL"
I have endoavonred to show that trans-
portation wholly fails in accomplishing that
which onght to be the sole object of punish-
ment. Its economy has, probably, been the
chief reason that it has been maintained so
long. Bnt now that intelligence has spread;
now that we have swept away the remnants
of feudal barbarism from onr own criminal
statutes, and have mitigated the fierce and
Draconian severity of oar punishmeots,
transportation — long condemned at the bar
of enlightened opinion — is, we rejoice, doomed
to cease. Yet it seems a mournful spectacle,
392
OUGHT TRAVSPORTATIOV TO BB ABOUSHKD?
tbat not nntU one oolonj has opposed the
introdnction of convicts hj force, and not
until threats of rebellion and resistance have
been heard to mingle with the earnest peti-
tions of Aostralia, have we resolved to pat
an end to this nnrighteons system. What
argnments my opponents will venture to
adduce I cannot conceive; they will have to
defend a system denoon^d by a Bentham
and condemned by a Whately — a system
practised by no nation bat oar own. Even
Earl Grey gives the most decisive opinion
against the whole system. In the House of
Lords (March 5, 1847) he declared, that
" when a system of this kind is carried on
at the antipodes, it is utterly impossible
that any other result should follow than that
which had actually occurred The
^fttem vKu/rtgktfnl ; and it is a diggra^ to
^ British fuxtion that mcA a system shmUd
ever have existed under the British ^ag. . . .
ffe had no hesHaiion in saying thai, had ike
samejunds been expended in a toell-considered
system of employing convicts at homey the
same number of convicts might have been
effectwdkf pmnshed in this country- But^
while to the mother country the ^stem had
been so expensive^ to the colony it had been
absolute ruin.** The truth of these words is
amply borne out by the numerous petitions
which have poured in from Australia during
the last five or ux years. The colonists,
with unwearied patience and almost unex-
ampled temper, have sent their petitions to
the Commons, the Lords, the Colonial Office,
the Privy Council, and the Queen; they have
used remonstrance and entreaty; they have
pleaded broken pledges and solemn engage-
ments; they have urged eveiy argument that
could be suggested — ^their own feebleness
and approaching ruin, their relations to the
mother country, and their position as tho
fiounderB of future empires. It must require,
therefore, no ordinary degree of courage to
support this system, which has been cor-
rupting in thdr infancy these noble depen-
dencies. How fearful a state of things is
xevealed by the petition (see parliamentaiy
papers for 1851) tnm the ** parents and
heads of families' ' in Van Diemen*s Land,
dated June 7, 1848! We are there told
that there were then in that island 30,846
convicts, and 37,088 free inhabitants, of
whom 12,946 were under fourteen vetn of
age; so that the free population of the island,
above fourteen years cild, only bears to tbe
convicts the proportion of three to four!
From another petition we Iram, that oat of
812 prosecutiona, in the year 1844, no less
than 713 were directed against convicts, tbe
expense entirely falling on the revenue of tbf
colony. Such oondoct on the part of this
country, boasting to be the most Itberil end
enlightened in the world, is an almost indelible
stain on her annals. The wrong has ko^
since been pointed out,* so that we eaoDot
plead ignorance. A total disregard of tbe
ends of punishment, of the rights which stiD
adhere to criminals as human beings, and of
the claims of our emigrant breUiren, has
resulted from the apparently eelfish rpsotre
to dispose of our criminals as we oooU,
without the least trouble to ooreelves. Y«t
from the parliamentary returns it appeirs
that every sucoeesive year our plan has been
giving way as insufficient, until in 1849, ooft
of 2,813 in Great Britain, and 9,484 in Ii«>
land, sentenced to trsnsportatioD, only 1^91
and 636 respectively were actually snt
abroad. It is vain, therefore, for any one to
attempt to buttress this tottering s^lem: it
is shaken to its foundation, and must specdihr
be numbered with the past The senteocx
of transportation has become a mere mockcfr,
unexecuted in half the cases it is uttered:
and thus ^ (to quote the indignant woidsr:
Bentham) ** the proportions o£ penal jnstier
are confounded; the poison of perfidy i»
infused into the system of gctveinmcut; ssi
still the obnoxious vermin remain usixtir*
pated." Let us not boast of having fmd
the negro from his bondage, bat kt us Uie
our heads with shame to think that we pber
our criminals in one common receptacle «f
moral pollution, beyond the reach or pois-
bility of improrement; that we snrraniMi eu
brethren in the odioniea with the off-acenriii^
of our mighty empire; and that, dci{«te of
their entreaties, of justice, and of the v«cf
of reason, we plant those in&nt eamanaaxiffi
who are, perhaps, destined to be car memoriii
among the nations of the earth, with tl<
vilest of our land — ^with "wicked oondcaue^
men." B. &
w^-
OUGHT TRANSPORTATION TO BE ABOLISHED?
393
NEGATITE ARTICLE.— II.
"There are drradftU punUhments enacted
nftaisut thierea ; but it were much better to make
such good provisions, by which every man might
be put in a method how to live, and so to be pre-
served from the fotal uecessi^ of stealing and
dyioff for it." Sir Tho7iuis More.
" £a society, en punissant, ezerce moins un
arte dn souverainte, quelle ne remplit un devoir,
edtti de i^priiner le lual ; fante de la faire, elle se
veirait bieutfit la victime de toutes lee furtui's.
La peine doit toujours dtre propcrtioun^e au
crime ; pour ^tre juste, 11 faut quelle soit stricte-
ment et evidemment n^ceaaaire; le loi ne peut,
Sana crime, an etabUr d'autres."* Encyclopidie
des Gen* du Monde, vol. i. p. 185.
The Hmita of the preeent paper will not
permit of a complete discuasiun of the qaee-
tion of trBiisportatioD in all ita various aepecU ;
we aball, therefore, confine oar remarka to it&
more prominent and important points.
The circumstances of onr colonies, and the
condition of our prisons at home, have forced
this question npon the public mind, and sur-
rounded it with peculiar interest, — Is puniah-
ment bj transportation sound in principle —
efficacious in practice — and economical to
the state? Although we are aware that our
knowledge is limited, and that the science of
punishment is jet in its infancy, we do feel
called upon to affirm that the day has not
yet arrived for England to lay aside the
punishment of transportation. A knowledge
of the origin and history of this puniehment
being so very imperfect and immature, it
cannot affect the question at issue, either as
to the soundness of the principle of trans-
portation, or to the nature of the objects to
be accomplished by the execution of penal
laws — the punishment of the offender— the
power of example in deterring others from
the commlseion of crime — ^and the reforma-
iioo of the criminal himself.
Transportation being a compulsory banish-
ment from home, friends, and fatherland —
with the ignominy of the convicted criminal,
and the degrading labour to which he is
subjected — is indeed a dreadful punishment,
not only in the estimation of the criminal,
* Society, in inflicting punithroenC, exercises
less an act of sovrrei^ty than it fulfils a duty—
<hat of repressing evil ; by the omission of Uiis
duty society would soon become the victim of all
the Turies. Punishment oueht always to be pro-
portioned to the crime ; ana to be just, it must be
stridl^' and evidently necessary. The law cannot
establish erimes, without becoming itaelf criminal.
but of the general public. We need not
refer to the opmious of judges, prison-keepers,
and convict superintendents, in proof of the
punitive and exemplative character of trans-
portation; it has only to be suggested to
the thoughtful mind and feelmg heart, to
become oue of those social intuitions, instinc-
tive in our nature, wherein argument and
illustration serve rather to deaden our native
sensibility than to quicken it. By removing
the criminal from the scene of his crime —
from the pernicious influence of old associa-
tions— and placing him in a new world of
circumstances, and under new discipline, of
a moral, industrial, and encouraging charac-
ter, full scope is given for the development
of the nobler feelings of his nature, while a
constant restraint is exercised upon bis old
criminal habits, by the punitive condition
in which he livra. The boundness of the
principle of transportation is, then, proved
by its punitive character, its exemplarity,
and its reformatory tendencies. How far it
has been efficacious in the prevention of
crime, and the reformation of the criminal,
is a question upon which conflicting opinions
are found among the most enlightened and
the best of men; but that U hot prevented
crime little or no doubt can be at all enter-
tained. When we consider the dread ex-
pressed by prisoners previous to trial, and
the horror of the punishment felt by persons
of every age and class, it must necessarily
have prevented crime to a great extent; but
wliat is the particular measure of this crime
must, from its very nature, be beyond the
reach of human knowledge. Imperfectly as
the system of transportation may have been
carried out, there are numberless instances
of men under it having become good citizens,
good hubbanda, and good fathera; there are
those occupying honourable positions, both
at home and in the colonies, who have in
time past served their term, in expiation of
th^r crime against society. Experience has
proved these remarks to be true, as evidenced
by Dr. Lang (quoted by J. M. S.), and by
M. Benjamin Constant, who sayM, in his
" Coun de Politique" page 41, " Slen trans-
ported to Botany Bay for criminal actions
have recommenced the social life; and in-
stead of continuing in their war against
2h
394
OUGHT TEANSPORTATIOX TO BE ABOLISHED?
society, hatfe become peaceable, and even
conunendable members of society."
To judge of the economy of this system
of punishment, it most be compared with
that panishment inflicted in England which
it most nearly approaches in severity. We
find, by the transportation Report of 1836-7,
that *'the conveyance of each convict has
cost about £28, and the various expenses of
residence and punishment have been at least
£54 per head, making in all more than
£82*' for each convict; and by the reports
of J. H. Capper, superintendent of the hulks,
printed 1842, we find that ** the toUl ex-
pense per man in the bulks in England is
£18 12s. lid., the average value of labour
per man is estimated at jClO 18s. 9d., mak-
ing the average annual expense per man
£7 14s. 2d." *' The average expense of each
convict, kept in a house of correction on
the silent system, is about £55 or £56
for four years." (Lord John RusselFs " Notes
on Transportation, &c.," 1839.) The same
authority further observes: **At Millbaiik
Penitentiary the net annual espense of each
prisoner, deducting his earnings, is said to
be £24 6s. 6d." The hulks are generally
considered a part of the transport system,
for by 24 Geo. III., sect. i. c. 12, and other
and more recent acts, they were made tem-
porary placea of confinement for convicts,
after sentence, and before the necessary
arrangements could he made to carry the
sentence into execution; and these acts ge-
nerally subjected the convicts to hard labour
and strict discipline during their stay at the
hulks. This being the case, we will com-
pare the two systems of puninhment, viz.,
the silent or separate punishment in gaols, and
the transport punishment, in their relative
cost to the state. Considering the long
terms of punishment inflicted upon trans-
ports, we cannot safely take a lower average
for the duration of this punishment per man
than eight years — this eight years of punish-
ment, including conveyance, we have seen
costs over £82. or a little more than £10
per year for each convict ; while at the hulks
the cost is only about £8 per year. We
have also seen that the silent system costs
about £56 for four years, or £14 per year
for each prisoner; and in Millbank prison
the cost is £24. In either case, there is an
evident saving in favour of transportation,
which, in the numbers convicted of ofienoea
punishable with transportation, would make
a considerable item in the annual jndidsl
expenditure of the country. From these
considerations we are constrained to affinn,
with M. Constant, that ** the establishment
of colonies where, criminals can be trans-
ported is, perhaps, of all the measures of
severity the most conformed to justice — to
the,.interests of society — and to the interest
of those very individuals society is compeUed
to banish." (" Cours de Politique;* page 40.)
To the principle of transportation it hs&
been objected, that in all the experiments
made it has failed; to which we reply, It
may have failed in particular instances, where
the system has been badly or negligently
carried out Too frequently has our old
system of punishment been applied — a srs-
tem which was instituted when our /wna/
«ctie»ic« and our prisons were in the wmsI
possible condition; but thb system is not
necessarily a part of transportation — it '»
only an imperfect method of carrying it into
execution. Want of exemplarity is also
urged as an objection. These tenns are
most certainly misapplied by the objectora;
for in what respect is the prison discipline of
this country possessed of exemplarity, which
is not equally predicable of tranaportatioQ?
Do the objectors wish the convict to be
constantly exposed to the public gaze? Do
they long to hear the sweet music of the
clankmg chains? Why,
*<Tbe captive dor
0(1 gnaws the rope that bind* him to his ckc:
Still, as a badge of slavery, there remain*,
Traii'd at bis neck, a remnant of his cbaios;"
and such might happen with d^nided hs-
manity, when the ** badge of slavery** micfat,
possibly, in his hands be made a fonnitkble
weapon, and become an unpleasant instance
of exemplarity. Have the ohject<»s eftf
seen the for^ts — the galley'-slafesf or ri-
sited the prisoners at the kulks* If od,
we are inclined to think they had better
witness the sad sight, before inflicting opa
this country the painful exhibition of chiins, '
convict badges, and all the aigns of crioM
and chastisement, to distress the feelic!:
heart, and harden the careless one.
In the state of Pennsylvania, in 1786. i
exposure during punishment was adopted: I
after four years it was discontinued, ccd
during the four years following— the penal
laws remaining the same—it wasfonod tiut
OUGHT TRANSPORTATION TO BE ABOUSHBD ?
395
crimes had decreased two>thirds, the popa-
Uition having in the meantime increased 2^
per cent (** Report of Committee on Prison
Discipline," &c.)
It is said that " transportation lays a
pemicioas social foundation" in infant colo-
nies. We grant that so many transports,
sent to a given colony, cannot be supposed
to produce an equal number of honest and
industrious citizens as the same number of
honest, industrious, and clever emigrants.
But the great question, underlying this ob-
jection, is this, — Is it a greater evil to keep
a great number of criminalii, exposed to the
public eye while undergoing their punish-
ment, in England — where competition has
reduced the overstocked labour-market to its
lowest equivalent, and raised all the neces-
saries of life to the maximum — or to send
them to suffer that punishment where labour
is dear, necessaries cheap, and competition
fsTourable only to the development of indus-
tij and reformation ? The candid mind will
best judge in the matter: we tbink there is
no doubt. In the choice of evils, few choose
the greater. We presume no one will now
object to transportation, on account of the
abuses which have been attached to the sys-
tem in its past development : equally great
and flagrant abuses have to be recorded in
the recent development of our prison arrange-
ments in England. Were greater cruelties
practised, or more tyrannical conduct ob-
served at any stage in the history of our
penal colonies, than is exhibited to the world
by the commission of inquiry upon tlie Bir-
mingham Borough Gaol discipline? Surely
the use there made of the crank — the strait
jacket and the collar — the weakened gruel —
the bread and teater and hard labour — the
forcible administration of salt — the repeated
drenchings with buckets of cold water during
the winter months — and sundry other devia-
tions from the proper discipline, are some
proof that abuses do exist at home as well
as abroad. We would, therefore, suggest
to the objector, that abuses are no part of
the principles in either case.*
Has it occurred to otir friends, advocating
the abolition of transportation, to inquire
and estimate the many difficulties by which
the course they recommend is environed.
We will not suppose them all to be desinnu
of the public exhibition of criminal punish-
ment; but supposing they adopt the separate
and silent systems, have they estimated the
vast increase requisite in prbon accommo-
dation for lengthy punishments, such as are
now inflicted by transportation? And if this
is provided for, how will they, with the large
increase in the number of prisoners, carry
out their system of discipline? By separate
cells ? This produces insanity in many cases,
if long persevered in. By a sufficiency of
officers to secure separation and silence?
This makes the expense enormous. By a
system of monitorial watching among the
prisoners? This destroys discipline, and
makes officers of the prisoners tliemselvesi
and thus defeats the object of punishment.
By the adoption of a military system? This
destroys the punitive character of imprison-
ment, and annihilates all reformatory and
industrial efficacy. These considerations
tend to convince us that the time has not
yet arrived for the abolition of transportation.
We have taken part in the discussion of this
subject rather with the spirit of inquirers
than of combatants; and shall heartily rejoice
if the present discussion contributes in any
degree towards familiarizing the public mind
with the difficulties attending the adminis-
tration of punishment to criminals, being
assured that the dissemination of knowledge
upon this subject must result in some
vigorous effort towards the prevention of
crime, especially among those most suscep-
tible of good influences — the rising race.
L'OUVRISB.
* See the local papers of the 3rd, 10th, and 17th
of September, 1853.
The English language is composed of 15,734 words, of which 6,732 are from Latin,
4,312 from the French, 1,665 from the Saxon, 1,168 from the Greek, 691 from the Dutch,
211 from the Italian, 106 from the German (not including verbs), 90 from the Welch, 75
from the Danish, 56 from the Spanish, 50 from the Icelimdic, 34 from the Swedish, 31
Uom the Gothic, 16 from the Hebrew, 15 from the Teutonic, and the remainder &om ths
Arabic, Syriao, Turkish, Portuguese, Irish, Scotch, and other languages.
396
THE UQUIBXB.
CIu 5^mt.
QUESTIONS BEaUIBINO ANSWERS.
189. nioatrate by appropriato qaotaSion* tbe
Mlowinff remark : — ** There are various paasaffes
of th« Old Teatament capable of a twofold ^pli-
cation, beiDg directly applicable to oircumiitaQcee
then past or present, and indirectly to others
whieh Divine Providenoe was about to develop
imder a future dis^esaatioo."— J. B. M'C.
190. I am desirous of beooming acquamted
with the works of our best poets, and should be
glad for any nugicestions from your literary oor-
raapoudents as to the order in which ther should
be taken up, and any other remarks oonducive to
their more profitable study.— Srptimus.
191. 1 shall feel greatly obliged by any of the
readers of the BrittMh ControverHalitt informing
me through its medium what books are sufSdent
to be read in order to obtain a first, second, and i
third class government certificate. Also, I wish
to have pointed out some good pronouacing gaz^
tsers of the world, with their prioes, and remarks
on each.— R. T.
192. Will anv of your numerous correspondents
be kind enough to fUmish me, through the me-
dium of your valuable mafrazine, with a list of
books on architecture and civil engineering, and
the name of a good magazine devoted to arcfaiteo-
tore and civil engineering, with the publisher's
name and its price?— W. D.
Ift3. In Mr. Cariyle's admirable pamphlet on
the *' Nigger Question," referring to Jamaica, he
Mi;* (P(M?« 40). *<that a bit of the life that was
Ohver Croroweirs was laid there." We sow not
aware of either the Protector, or any of his con-
nexions or descendants, having been personally
in that island. Can any of our readers inform
ns — 1. Whether the allusion is metaphorical or
not; S. Whether there are any descendants of
the Protector still alive ; and if so, who these are f
We believe that the Rev. Dr. Cromwell, Presby-
terian minister, Loudon, and author of a work on
Shakspere just published, claims such descent,
though on what grounds we cannot say ; and we
remember of a reference made in the biography
of some divine either to the same gentleman or
aome other olergyman of the name persuasion, as
being a descendant of Oliver CromwelL We shall
feel obliged by being informed, moreover, how
the controversy raised two or three years ago
regarding the erection of a statue of Cromwell
among those of the kings of England in the new
houses of parliament was concluded. — T. U.,
Edinburgh, ^
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
150. Foreign JSxcAan^ex.— Not having seen
the articles on this subject which W. U. says
appeared in the Eeonomist for 1847, we did not
attempt to answer his inquiry respecting the
science of foreign exchanges, and the illustra-
tions there given of it. However, as no other
mend has cone forward, we beg to offer the
following biuts on the sulyeet, which are ex-
tracted priucipally from M*Culloch'B " Dictionary
of Commerce :"-~ '
The term exchange is used to designate that
species of mercantile transaetions by whieh the
diebts of individuals at a distanee from tber
creditors are oancelled without tbe tranamiaaion
of money.
Among countries having maeh intereoorse to-
gether, the debts mutuaUy doe by eadi oihv
frequently approach near to an eqaaUty. For
example, there are at all timea a conndcrsble
niunber of persons in London indebted to Hsa»-
burgh, ana vice «wrs«. Heooe: when A, of
London, has a payment to make to B, of Hsaw
burgh, he buys a bill upon Bambuif^, that ii,
he buTS an order from C, of London, sd>
dressed to his debtor, D, of Hambu^, reqasst-
ing him to pay the amount to A, or Iris order. A,
having indorsed this bill, or order, acnds it to B,
who, t9 his convenience, receivea payment from
his neighbour, D. Bills drawn by the merefatDts
of one country upon another are tanned tonip^
bills of exchange, and it as to thair nagooaDoa
that the following remarks apply : —
1. Par qf JBjrcAaitye.— This, in the words of
Fortune, ** signifies 1h.e equibalanoe of a ocrtsia
amount of U>e standard oorrency of the ooe
country in the standard omrency of the other.*
Thus, accorcUng to the mint re^^uutions of Greet
Britain and France, £1 sterlms^ is equal to SS
fiwnes 90 oenta, whieh is said to be the par
between London and Paria. So, when a bill for
J^IOO, drawn on London, is worth 9,580 fraao,
and conversely, the exchange Is said to be at par.
When £lO0 in London bnya a biU in Pans for
more than 2,590 franoa, the axohaugc ia said to
be in favour of London, and against Paris, and
fiee vena.
2. Circum»tance» which delenmime the Ccmrte
0/ Exchange. — ^Tfae exchange is marie to divsm
from »ar— first, bv any dtscrepaney between tfae
actual weight or fineneas of the enns, or of (h»
bullion for which the snbsdtnles wsed bx their
place will exchan^ and their weight or finoxst
as fixed by the mmt regulationa ; and, seooadlr,
by any sudden increase or diminntioin of the bils
drawn in one country upon another.
We need not siqiply iUuairatioaa of these prin-
ciples, but we wouM refer your comapondni foe
further information to Mr. M'Calloch'a valnsble
work. — A. C.
170. Phtmonuma iff i^i^M.— Thoogh I eannot
furnish J. S. with the desired infonnaikm, I nay,
perhaps, be allowed to aay that there can he bo
difliculty in accounting lor the appearances bt
describes. They present exactly the aaoae avpMt
in a strong wind as in a calm ; hciioe(MttiBgsMde
the manifest improbability of the hypothesis) te
molecules he refers to are not panicle* of air.
J. S. supposes them to be dust floaiiug in tb«
atmosphere : thu also I think very unUkaly. Iv.
if sttrh were the Mse, ought they not to b«
opaque 7 I have tried J. 8.*a expciimcnt, aad
beg to suffgeat as the reanlt that ih* i , .
are meivly the seerttion oa tha muhn of ibe
eye, and that it ia a dcluaiffli when appanatfy «•
perceive them on the oppoaiie aide of the ofd,
which servea the pvrpoae mcfely of adumiinf
light I oBbr this laialy M • n/^wiJi Bm
THK TOUKG STUDEMT AND WBITKB 8 AflSISTA^IT.
397
conformable it U to the lairs of optics I know not.
Peiiiaps some of your seientifio trienda will step
licnrward and say. That it is moisture of some
sort I have no doubt; bat whether it may be
accounted for as I have pointed out, or to a
gathering of partidea of fluid round the aperture
m the card, I leave those who know more of
optics than myself to jud^. Persons who have
weak sight, among whom, unfortunately, I must
reckon myself, fr«iuently observe the same phe-
nomenon without having recourse to the meAus
mentioned by J. S., especially when the weather
ia gloomy or the eyes have been tried by oon-
tinued reading or study, by the sun or wind. —
Dtis.
For the information of J. 8., and those readers
of this magazine who are interested in the sub-
ject to which his question refers, I may be per-
mitted to state that the Frenchman who professed
to have discovered the visibility of the component
particles of the air was M. Audraud, and that
aome time since he made a communication of
his suppositional discovery to the Acadimie de»
Sciences of Paris. J. S.'s descripiion of M. An-
draud's experiment is correct, but the following is
more full : — Take a card in which a very small
aperture has been made, and hold it at the dis-
tance of oue or two inches trom the eye, and the
following appearances will be visible—" 1st. The
minute hole, of whatever figure it be, assumes
the aspect of a perfectlv circular disc. 2nd. This
luminous di^e, viewed as if it were au object at
the usual distance of distinct vision, appears
traverseil by a fibrous or reticulated texture, in-
terspersed with small specks or spots, some
darker, some lighter, than the general tone of
the disc. 3rd. Whatever number of these aper-
tnres are applied successively to the $ame eye,
the configuration or pattern of this texture is
alFays identical : but on changing the eye, thouuh
the general appearance remains analogous, the
pattern becomes entirely different 4ttj. Besides
these appearances, minute globules are occasion-
ally seen to move across the disc. On ballclosing
Che eye, the eyelashes become distinctly visible,
ao that they may be counted. Minute particles of
dust on a plate of glass interposed bietween the
eye and the aperture, witib other similar objects,
are readily aud dbtinctljr perceived."
Now, from the identity of pattern presented
saeoessively to the same eye ny any number of
theae apertures, it appears evident tliat it is some-
thing beloninug to the structural condition of the
3e that is thus seen, and not particles of air, as
. Andraud supposes. Indeed, the visibility of
the texture of the eye itself— of the minute
globules of the lachrymal fluid on iu surface-
possibly even of partieles of dirt slowly floating
in the neighbourhood of the pupil, seem quite
sufficient to account for the phenomenon. — A. C.
173. The Paraphreue qf ParodUe Lost. — It
appears to us that your correspondent, G. N., has
made a mistake in his paraphrase of the quotation
made by " Sunislaus." ** O'Dell's " inteipreta-
tion is much preferable, but we think he also
has fallen into a slight error. The only part of
the quotation at all difficult to imderstaud is the
passage
" Easier to transact with me
That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with
threats
To chase me hence." • • •
Now, O. N. has departed very widely fipom the
words and meaning of the original, and ban read
the passage as though Satan's indignant interro-
gation stopped at the word ** unvanquished.' ' He
has also altogether lost sight of the words " easier
to transact with me," and has treated the line
which follows them as though " err not " had
reference to, and should be taken before, it. These
are altogether mistakes. Satan puts two ques-
tions. First, he asks Michael whether '* he has
put the least — weakest — of these his hosts to
flight ; or, if he have smitten them to the ground,
it was but that they might rise again unvan-
quisbed." Now, with simply a comma alter the
word nnvanquished, as is the case in some editions
of Milton, It would at first sight appear as thou^
the word easier referred to the nnvanquished
host, and you might read the passage thus : " But
that tliey might rise again nnvanquished, the
better, — more determined, — to transact— peiform
deeds — fight — wiiti me ;" and, were there a comma
atter the word me, we should be inclined to put
this interiiretation upon it, and make the re-
mainder of the passage — ^"that thou shouldst
hope, imperious aud with direats, to chase me
hence," have reference to the one interrogatory
with regard to having " put the least of the»e to
flight." But there in no such stop alter the word
** me," and consequently a second interrogation
is commenced at the word " easier," and is, in
fact, the very point of Satan's argument. " Is it
easier," he a^ks, *'to deal with— matiage — me"
(than it was to deal with the least of his lollowers,
understood), " that you should hope, 0 imperious
being " (or, imperiously, tlie adjective put lor the
adverb, as is olten the case m Latin authors),
" and. above all th<^*^, with threaU^ to chase me
hence?"
Such we think to he the correct reading of the
passage. " Odell " has put a second question at
the word " easier," but in our opimun it is a
wrong one. — F. F.
€jii ^nnng Ituiittt ml WnWs assistattl
LOGIC CLASS.
./Miiior.— Fide «* Art of Beasoning." No. X.,
Vol. II. — On what does logic depend for its first
miooiples? What sort of a science is logic? How
as a knowledge of lam attained ? What is the dif-
/ierenoe between the mtmner and the mtUter of
thought? Whatlatheoceotioii of all knowledge?
How eaa that be prawa? Aia th«« universal
truths or innate ideas ? How does the experience-
origin of knowledge ntttci the law of ratiocma-
tion ? How can the law of syllo^sm be deduced
trom the principle of generaluation ? What im-
portant ends would, iu the anthor'a opiob>n, be
gained, supposing the topics disoussed in thb
paper were established ?
/Vovf cCior.— ExMt^ YkQ.^^'S ^VL.
398
THE TOVHO STUDBIIT AND WBITBR'S AaBOTAIIT.
5«iiior.— What ftre the criteria of the possible
and the probable 7 See Sir Wm. H amtUon's ** D is-
cttssions/' Loeke's '* Essay," Mill's ** Logic,"
Kant's " Critique,'* See.
GRAMMAR CLASS.
Exereite* in Orammar. No. XIX.
Junior JJivision,
Perform Exercise No. X., Vol. III. p. 430.
Senior Division,
Make six sentences to illustrate each of the fol-
io wrinj; rules: —
1. Nouns, pronouns, and parts of a sentence.
I when put in apposition, i.e., when (hej sre en-
ployed to express the same thing, agree in esse.
3. A noun or pronoun which answers a qaes.
tion, sboold be in the same ease with thai vhidi
asks it?
3. Peraouel pronouns agree in gender, nambcr,
and person, with the nouns of whieh they sit
substitutes?
4. A relatiTO pronoun is the nominative to s
verb, when no noun intervenes between the rds-
tii^ and the verb.
6. Adiective pronouns are used to qualify noons.
0. Distributive pronouns rvquire verbs tad
pronouns in the sing^ar.
7. The demonstrative pronouns agrse in nim-
ber with the nouns they qualify.
MODEL EXERCISE No. VII.— Vide Vol. IIL p. 310.
NOUNS.
FossEssiTB Case.
TerminaHonal PoMtesstvt.
The « PUgrim's Progress*
The Chrisuau's hope
The world s glory
Evening's silent breath
A warriors itword
Simple.
Night's starry robe
Beauty's «• virgin tear"
The sun's bright eirole
Ocean's dark expanse
Scotland 8 hero
The ** Arabian Nights' Enter
Homers ''Iliad*'
Cruikshauk's ** BotUe"
The pencil's mimic skill
Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Progress"
AUiene's " Christian s Armoiury"
Burns' " Cotter's Saturday Night"
Duncan's Cicero's " Orauons"
Hayues' Virgil's " £neid"
Jacob's children's children
Compound.
Gibson's ** Thomson's Seasons'*
Stewart's '* Oray's Arithroetie "
Wilkie's" Blind Man's Buff '
Dil worth's *' Schoolmaster's As-
sistant"
Ainsworth's " Miser's Daurhter"
Loveirs" Wife's
Chambers' ** Bums' Poems '
Tallis'a Hume'a ** History ef
England"
Green's ** Banies' Notes '
rrepositionat Voueuivt,
Simple.
The works of Newton
The pride of glory
The laws of Moses
S>)irits of the mighty dead
The conqueror of Darius
The words of the preacher
The son of David .
i^ —
The wreck of Thebes
The law of our being
The caprice of fortune
The last of the Roman kings
The aposUe of the GentUes
The rust of sloth
The frowns of fate
The love of God
The style of Cicero
The child of affliction
The horrors of the slormj ^
The dust of the earth
The breath of the mom
The stroke of the hammer
The servant of the king of Israel
The mandates of the ministry of
Britain
The riahts ofthe people of England
The duties of the followers of
Jesus Christ
The wealth of the merchants of
Glasgow
The progress ofthe pupils of this
institution
The scepire of the Queen of
England
Compound.
jThe speech of the hero of a hun-
t dred fights
The history of the philosophy of
Europe
The educational scheme of the
Church of Scotland
The currents of the Straits of
Gibraltar
Murray's edition of the Works of
Lord Byron
The brilliancy of Maeaulay's
wri tings
The spirit of the religion of Cbrvl
The hummir of the works of vs
early writers of comedy
The reviews of GiUiUan't - hui^
ofthe Bible"
A view ofthe works of God
The wreck of the wooden wsD
of old England
The close of a day of pleassiv
Macnee'a portrait of Dr. He«?^
of Glasgow
II.
Israel's children
God's p^ace
England s queen
The million's home
For peace' sake
Felix' character
The lady's seminary
Man's rights
The laiitea' school
The nation's voice
The nations of the
worM s decision
Vidorr'saoas
ConacKDoe'r
The mood's
Tke cbililren's
THE YOUNG 8TUDBKT AND WRITEb's ABSSBTAJXT,
399
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— VII.
Question 56. x+z=9y (1)
x+y+r=34 (2)
x»+y» + z»=2304 (3)
34
subtracting (1) from (2) .v=24— 2 y=s- =8
substituting the value of y in (I), and cubing
x»+3 X* »+3 X z*+z*=4096
dcUucUng (3)-y'.=x* + r» = 1792
.*. 3x* (x+7)=2:W4
buix+x=16 (1)
.-. 48x«=i304, orxjr = 48 (4)
dividing (3) by x+ar and
17U2
16
x+z
= 112
= x*— xz+x*
subtarct the value ofx z from both tennt of this
et^uauoii, and we get x'— 2 x »+ z* = 64
extracting square root, x— z a V^ = ±8
x-r = 8
then adding (1) x+z = 10
2x = 24
24
X = —=12
2
and r = -- =4
aim - 12 ■«
P.T.
Question 56.
40x4 =160
30x2i= 75
70xl>» 87i
Then—
As :li2|
as 322J
a* 322.
Answers
£ 8. d.
: 2.044 12 6
: 2.044 7 6
: 2,044 7 6
£
1 1,014
I 475
322i
160 :
75 :
874 :
8.
7
d.
£
1,014
475 9 lOi'jif
554 14 lOj III
OVA
d.
9
Proof -
I
8
7 ^ aW = •"'o required for
the men.
9 10| 11^ = sum required for
the women.
554 14 lOJ III = sum required for
the children.
2,044 12 6 R. M.
Qftett ion 57. 2+20
Sum of their agess — ^ —
£
3.636^=
3,272A=
2,909A=
2<'>45^r=
2,181^=
1.464A^=
l,0tt0H=
£
110:
30
:: 90,000
110 :
18:
: 20,000
110 :
16
:: 20.000
no :
14
:: 20.000
110 :
12
: : 20.000
110 :
10
:: 20.000
110:
8
:: 20,000
110 :
0
:: 20.000
110 :
4
:: 20,000
110 :
S
:: 20,000
Proof -
20,000
X 10=110
Shares.
: of the youngest.
: of the ninth.
: of the eighth,
s of the seventh,
tof the sixth.
:of the fifth.
:of the fourth.
:of the third,
luf the second.
:of the eldest.
W. D.
QuetUon 59. The two spooti together conyer
26 gallons of water per mmote ; and, as they flu
the whok teasel in 10 minutes, it contains 260
gallons. Therefore, the spout that conveys 12
260
gallons per minute will fill it in - , or 21 1
260 12 ■
minutes, and the other in -r— , or 18S minutes.
14
T. B.
Question 60. Let x, y, z=the tliree numbers ;
then, by the question, x+ 4 y + |z=50 (I)
*x+y+|x=64 (2)
i*+iy+z=75 (3)
From (3) we getx+J y+2 2=1.00
ana(l) „ x+|y+}2=50
subtract I « - J ?/ = 1 00 (4)
and again by (2) { x+y + * z=64
X - '
and from (1) -r+ijy+^s=10
subtracting these iV«+iVy='*2 {o)
but from (4) ,»„ ;-i y =20
.*. subtracting ||y=22
.-. y=ao
hence, from (4) r=60, and from (1) x=20.
Ans. x=20, y =30, »=60. J. B. M*C.
Question 61. Let A B C be Uie given triangle,
of which tlie side A B=674, and A C 1,298 links,
and the angle A=60° 20^.
Here 1 298 +674 = 1072 =(»)
and 1298~674=624=(rf)
and, since the three angles of a triangle are equal
to 180®, the sum of the angles ut the bases 180*
-60«> 20'=lluo 40', or half the sum=59*> 50'.
Then, as « : d : : tan. 59® 50' : tan. (J difference
of angles)
log. tan. 59«» 50'= 10-235648
log. 624= 2-795185
log. 1973=
log. 28» 33' 51'
13-030833
3-294907
9-735926
.-. diftof angIe«=57o 7/42"
sum= 119«40'0"
.-. angle B=88'> 23' 51", and 0,31® 10' 9
Again: —
Sin. 31 « 16' 9" : 674 : : sin. 60«» 20' :
or, log. sin. 60* 20'=9-938980
log. 674= 2-828660
base;
12-767640
log. 31® 16' 9"= 9-715217
Ans. 1128*295 Unk8= 305S433— J. F. L.
Questioner. Let x = the greater ;
then 17— X = the less (by question),
andx«+(l7-x)* = 176 5
.'. 2x«-34x+289 = 176-5
divide by 8, and x* - 17 x+ 144 5 = 88 25
x»- 17 x= -56-25
/17\*
x*-17x+f— -J =-a6-85+
X —
17
±V16=4
16
.-. X » 14+8-ft = 12-5 or 4-5
but the sum of these two numbers « 17 ; henoe
13*6, being the cre«fter,«: x, and 4-5 •> 17— x«
400
VOnCES OF BOOKS.
QuesHonm. ^^^« 4-001 9517S cubic feet
in 1 ton of iron.
Let X ss number of cubie feet of cork,
then 240 x « weight of cork in ounces,
and (S240 x 16}+S40 « » weight of floating body.
Again: —
<4'6OJ95172+x)I0O0 « weight of water diiplaeed ;
and, as the weight of the water displaced is equal
to the weight of the floating body, we have,
(2240 X 16)+ 240 « » (4*«)195172+x) x 1000
or 8U6+ 6 X » 35 » X 115-048799
or 19 x = 780^1207
780-951207 ^, „^-. .. . ^
•■• * = TO " 4M08695 enbic feet,
whence the nnmber of feet of cork requisite to
float 1 ton of iron - 41*102605. W. C. D.
Question 64.
106x277-274
the cistern. X. F.
QUESTIONS FOR SOLUTIOK.— IX-
75. Find the greatest common measure of 1,962,
S;289, 2,616, 8,943, 3^97, and 981 T
76. Find the least oommon moltiple of the
above?
77. A Quantity of goods weighs 17 ozs. in oce
scale, and 14^ in the other, of an uaavcn balmce.
What is its exact weight ?
78. The difl'erence of two numbers is 18 : tbe
diffiprence of their fourth powers 159,961. What
are the numbers?
79. The spedfic gravity of a globe of granite is
2,662, and its diameter 10 fret. Keqnired th«
units of woxk neoeasary to raise it to a height of
80 feet?
80. For what aim) of money can I obtain is
annuity of £30 per annum for seven years, sl-
lowing 6 per cent, compound interest for mf
money ?
81. How many cubic feet of cork will be neces-
sary to sustain a ton of iron above the surtsee of
the water?
82. The diameter of the inner circle of a dnmkr
moat is 800 feet ; its breadth, 80 feet at top. sai
50 feet at the bottom. Tbe outer slope messoro
18 feet, and d)e inner 23 feet Bcqmred its cubi.
content in yards, the top and bottom being hsm-
zontal ?
83. The sides of a triangle are 370, 874, aai
198. Required the angles ?
Mra nf %uh.
The Phonographic Examiner, and Aniramt'a
Journal ; a Monthly Retto$itory qf Original
Article* on Oeneral ana Controversial 8ub-
jeeta. Price 2d. London : Fred. Pitman.
We recommend this novel publication to the
notice of our phonographic friends as being well
wortliy of a cartful perusal for its literary, as
well as phonographic merits ; and especially, as
it is really, as well as professedly, " devoted to
youthful aspiration and truth progression." Each
number contains sixteen pages of original aud
generally well- written articles, and sections headed
^French Correspondence," ** Vocabulary of the
mostfyequeutly-recurring Foreign Words." "Gems
of Foetry" *' The Editor and his Friends," Sec;
the whole is neatly and accurately lithographed in
the corresponding and reporting styles of phono,
graphy. ^
The Muteum of CUutical Antiquities. No. VIII.
With Su^iplement Londcm : T. Richards,
Great Queen-street
This is a quarterly journal, devoted to the con.
aideration of ancient art The number and the
aopplement before ua are both occnnied with nn
able and elaborate article on *<Th«'True Site of
Calvary : with a reatored plan of the ancient city
of Jerusali-m." A work like this has strong
claims upon the scholar and the gentleman, and
ought to receive a sufficiency of support to pre*
vent the author speaking of loss on the past and
uncertainty for the (Uture. Its rate of aubacrip.
tion is one guinea per anntua.
Home Thoughts. Price 2d. London: Kent and Co.
We do not know that it would have been possible
fur US to have brought together two periodicala of
more diverse chaiaotcrs than ** Home Thoughta"
and '<The Museum of Classical Antiqmtiesf v«t
they both possess considerable merit, and ar?
calculated to do good, although in opposite direc-
tions. ** Home Thoughts" are pubUsbed moniUr
in a cheap form, and devoted to ** Litrrstniv.
Science, and Domestic Economy." This n>a^
sine bears a strong *' FamUy" likeness to ocbn
magazines that we have seen ; but, although it »
the youngest member of the ** Domestic" cirtk,
it is notthe least interesting nor instructive.
The Pihrim's Progress, lUnstrated. Prke 2k 6d.
London : Ingram, Cooke, and Co.
Let not our readers start ; we are not going to ^^
view "The Pilgrim's Progress ," only to draw tm^
tion to a new and beautiflil edition; and for U:H
purpose it will be enough to refer them u ^
publishers' names, and to state that it is tontfkt
out as one of the volumes of their " Nstun*'
Illustrated Library," and ia flilly equal in ^^
to the preceding ones.
The Youth's MoMuime. VoL I. New $cnf«.
Price da. 6d. London : Bonlstoa and StonoBSB.
While this is the first volume of a ** new serirs.' it
is the fony.eighth volume of the *' Toudi's Xsfs-
zine." Our readers will thus pesveive thattkis «s»
one of the earUeet periodicals for the yomw. At
the ekM«or tbe last year ita editosak^ paascii vta
other, and.we think we may add.abler bands. sad
various alterations were made in the size sai
cbaraetor of the woriu These changes w«s«, «*
consider, improvementa ; and althoofrti theB»e*'
zine does not now come up to our idea or«>>«t H
might be made, still on the whole it is adapted^
the elasa for whioh it waa des]gncd-^riz.t '
young people of raltgiions
we oordiaUy rccomoMBd li.
die
Ejittorir.
BT THE AUTHOR OF "tUE AHT OF REASOXINO.**
No. XXIII.— METHOD.
The end of the rhetorician is persuasion. To persuade is to excite or urge {ivadere) to
a conrse of action throagh (per) the agency of some inducing cause or causes. Intellect.
'W^ll, and Imagination are the three great classes into which we may divide the mental
powers. The consentaneous direction of all these different capacities to one given course
of thought and consequent action constitutes our idea of thorough and complete persuasion.
To inform or couTince the intellect, to please the imagination, and to move the will, arc
bU, in our opinion, acts which, taken together, compose the most adequate ideal of practical
rhetoric, — ^that exertion of thought-expression which employs itself in
*' Setting endeavour in continual motion."
The intimate interrelations of all the powers of mind are specially evidenced in the
requirements of a true rhetoric. It is not sufBcient that the mind he fully informed of a
given truth, or convinced of the accuracy of a given induction or deduction; it is not
enough that the imagination he gratified, and the taste delighted ; it is not suiBcient that
the emotions be called into lively exercise: no one of these effects can justly be called per-
auasion; but when all these arc applied in fitting combination to the evolution of mental
activity, how resistless is the energy which the rhetorician wields!
•* Uence I infer
That many tbiiigs having full reference
To one cohsent may work contrariously;
As many arrows, loosed scverul ways,
Fly to one mark ;
As many several ways meet in one town ;
As many fresh streams nm to one self sea ;
As many lines close in the dial's centre;
So many a thousand motions once afoot,
End in one purpose."
To expound, so far as we are competent, the modes in which these three groups of
poiwers may be severally and unitedly excited to action, is the purport of the present paper,
and to this we shall now address ourselves.
Conviction, «. e., intellectual acquiescence, is, in general, producible — 1st, by instmc-
tion; 2nd, by reasoning. The former is employed when addressing ourselves to those
who are ignorant of the facts or grounds of any belief, and is of two kinds— (a) analy-
tical and (b) synthetical. The latter is properly used when the«parties whom we select
for our audience consist of those who know and acknowledge the facts which form
tbe basis of dieooorse, but who either draw different infer^ces from them, or are in doubt
which, inferenees shoiild bo deduced. In the one case conviction most be produced bj
2i
402 RIIKTORIC. — SO. XXIII.
refaUtory or indirect reasoning; in the other, bj direct and pertinent' indaction and lyllo-
gistic inference. It ia very seldom indeed that the problem given to the practical rheto-
rician is presented in so pare a form as those which are outlined in the previoos sentence;
but, for the purpose of clear treatment, it is necessary for the teacher to present the
aimplest possible processes first, and afterwards to exhibit the most satisfactory method of
treating those mixed questions which are most likely to be evoked in practice.
In casting a rough glance at the ^ Synopsia of the Principles of Proof** appended to our
preceding paper, our readers will perceive that this general division of conviction into
instructive and ratiocinative has been indicated, and they will readily oondoda thai induc-
tion is the best means of convincing any one instructively, while deduction is tba best
medium which can be employed in producing ratiocinative conviction.
We have so frequently and so fully detailed to our readers the opinions which we enter^
tain regarding the genesis of knowledge* and the laws of evidence,t that a very brief out-
line of these may, for the present, suffice, viz., — Consciousness is the power through wbieh
we primarily attain knowledge. Jt refers this knowledge to two differing
and not-self. All knowledge of self must be accepted on the evidence of
no other evidence is attainable. Oar knowledge of those things comprised in the turn-ego^
however, reach us through different channels, and are entitled to trust only on the ground of
the validity of the instruments of conveyance. These are the senses, which are not only
the conveyors of a knowledge of the ontward world, but also the conditioss of our
acquiuntance with the inner world of thought and emotion. Through these channels the
reason directs our experimental observations, and, by judicious prevision, determines upm
the amount of proof which these must bring into the intellect, in order that the supposi-
titious explanations which it constructs for phenomena may be sufficiently borne witness to
by the not- self regarding which it is making inquiry. Through these same senses must
testimonial evidence be received; and our credence is conditionated by the accuracy or
inaccuracy of the organs through which the sensations impress the mentality. To prodoee
conviction by the instructive method, therefore, it is necessary either to aj^teal to eon-
sciousncHs or sensation as the ultimate grounds of evidence, and if these cannot bear witmes
for us, we must use such means as are most likely to superinduce the conceptions regarding
which a deficiency is noticeable. In these cases it is, in general, most advisable to lead the
parties addressed along the pathway of discovery, calling attention as we proceed to the
various facts as they arise; or, if merely narrating the method of investigation, detai£n*
the various items which, as they arose, lead to or modified the genera] conceptions which
we wish to urge upon the mind, and of the truth of which we desire to produce a cenvictW.
To effectuate ratiocinative conviction demands the employment of all the reaoofces of the
logician. Accepting given postulated truths or facts as true — that is, in this coonexlra.
as mutually acquiesced in for the present by himself and the parties addressed — tbe rheto-
rician, by rigid and strict adherence to logical processes, is bound to eUminate, in do*
order, the various inferences which the laws of thought le^timate, and present then f r
* See " The Art of Reasoning," chapters ii. and zi. Refer also, for confirmation, to VcmC s
*• Elenents of Psychology," ohap. iil. ; M* Vicar's « Enquiry into Human Nature," chap. ix.
<f See'«TlMAxtofRcaMniin9,'*ehap«ersTL-riU. Refer alM> to W]Mtoly*s •* Bhftorie,- part fi.
BHSTORia — ^SIO. ZXIII. 403
acoepUnoe bj the intellect as the true and valid results of the data previously determined
npoo and accepted.
Thua far, however, expression has onlj become the exponent of conceptions in their
rsspective wholes of discovery and reflection. There is yet a farther process which most
be evolved in the mind before action can result, viz., Persuasion, i, e., emotive acquiescence,
to which we most direct attention for a brief space. The intellect is capable of deciding
upon the advisability of pursuing % certain course of procedure, or the truth or falsehood of
a certain aeries of tmtbs, but it is incapable of directly urging to action ; this must be
determined on by the will, although initiated by the intellect. *' Will, properly so called,
is the final state of desire, when mental deliberation has decided on the propriety of some
jHredomlnant impulse. It is true the intellectual organs inspire special deures relative to
their peculiar functions; but they are deficient in the energy necessary to induce action,
which depends solely on the emotional impulse.*^ " Conviction is addressed to the under-
standing; persuasicNi to the passions. Conviction is the impression made upon the under-
standing by the force of argnmenta; persuasion is the impression made upon the passions
by the exhibition of objects by which they may be agitated. Conviction denotes that the
understanding is satisfied of the truth or rectitude of what has been advanced; persuasion
implies a great deal more, viz., that the passions are engaged in behalf of what the under-
stauding approves, and that the hearer will proceed to put in practice what he is convinced
is right and true. The passions are the springs of action. Conviction does not always
ensore action: in a thousand instances we acknowledge the reality and utility of action,
and yet remain inactive. But let the passions be interested, — let them be ronsed by the
prospect of some great good to the public or ourselves, or with the prevention of some
fonnidable evil of which we apprehend the approach,^ — ^and it will be impossible for us not
to proceed to acL^f " Conviction is, however, one avenue to the inclination or heart; and
it is that which an orator must first bend bis strength to gain; for no persuasion is likely
to be stable which is not founded on conviction. But, in order to persuade, the orator
moat go farther than merely producing conviction ; he most consider man as a creature
moved by different springs, and must act upon them all. He must address himself to the
passions; he must paint to the fancy and touch the heart; and hence, besides solid argu-
ment and clear method, all the conciliating and interesting arts, both of composition and
pronunciation, enter into the idea of eloquence.*':|: '* Persuasion, therefore, depends on, first,
argnments — to prove the expediency (&c.) of the means proposed ; and, secondly, what is
osuAlly called exhortation, i, e., the excitement of men to adopt t^ese means, by represent-
ing the end as sufficiently desirable."§
From all these various cumulative opinions, which we have rather adopted as expressed
by the respective authors than lessened in expressiveness by any paraphrase of our own,
it will seem evident that the science of Rhetoric is much more extensive than that of
Logic. Bhetorical skill signifies the capacity of reasoning well united with grace and
fluency of expression, attractiveness of exposition, and the art of calling into activity the
• Comte'8 " Philosophy of the Sciences," by G. H. Lewes, p. 226.
•f Barron's " Leetares on Belles Lettres and Logic," xzv.
% Blair's ** Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettren;* xzr.
e Whately's " Rhetoric;' part ii. p. 112.
402 RHETORIC. — NO. XXIII.
refatatory or indirect reasoning; in the other, by direct and pertinent' induction and syllo-
gistic inference. It is very seldom indeed that the problem given to the practical rheto*
rician is presented in so pare a form as those which are outlined in the preTioos sentence;
bnt, for the pnrpose of clear treatment, it is necessary for the teacher to present the
simplest possible processes first, and afterwards to exhibit the most satisfactory method of
treating those mixed questions which are most likely to be evolved in practice.
In casting a rough glance at the ** Synopsis of the Principles of Proof" appended to oar
preceding paper, our readers will perceive that this general division of conviction into
instructive and ratiocinative has been indicated, and they will readily oonclude thai induc-
tion is the best means of convincing any one instructively, while deduction is the best
medium which can be employed in producing ratiocinative conviction.
We have so frequently and so fully detailed to our readers the opinions which we enter-
tun regarding the genesis of knowledge* and the laws of evidence,! that a. very brief oat-
line of these may, for the present, suffice, viz., — Consciousness is the power through which
we primarily attain knowledge. /< refers this knowledge to two difiering Boorccs, — self
and not-self. All knowledge of self must be accepted on the evidence oC conscioasoess;
no other evidence is attainable. Our knowledge of those things comprised in the noa-egOf
however, reach us through different chsnnels, and are entitled to trust only on the groumi of
the validity of the instruments of conveyance. These are the senses, which are not only
the conveyors of a knowledge of the outward world, but also the conditions of our
acquaintance with the inner world of thought and emotion. Through these channels the
reason directs our experimental observations, and, by judicious prevision, determines upon
the amount of proof which these must bring into the intellect, in order that the suppoEi-
titious explanations which it constructs for phenomena may be sufficiently bcxme witne^ to
by the not- self regarding which It is making inquiry. Through these same sensM most
testimonial evidence be received; and our credence is conditionated by the accuracy or
inaccuracy of the organs through which the sensations impress the mentality. To prodace
conviction by the instructive method, therefore, it is necessary either to appeal to con-
sciousness or sensation as the ultimate grounds of evidence, and if these cannot bear witness
for us, we must use such means as are most likely to superinduce the conceptions r^ardio^
which a deficiency is noticeable. In these cases it is, in general, most advisable to lead tlif
parties addressed along the pathway of discovery, calling attention as we proceed to tHe
various facts as they arise ; or, if merely narrating the method of investigation, detailing
the various items which, as they arose, lead to or modified the general conceptions whlcb
we wish to urge upon the mind, and of the truth of which we desire to produce a canvictit*i!.
To effectuate ratiocinative conviction demands the employment of all the resources of Ibt
logician. Accepting given postulated truths or facts as true — that is, in this eoonexioo.
as mutually acquiesced In for the present by himself and the parties addressed — the fheto-
lician, by rigid and strict adherence to logical processes, is bound to efindnate, in dnf
order, the various inferences which the laws of thought legitimate, and preseni them f(f
* See *' The Art of Reasoning," chapters ii. and xi. Refer also, for oonfirmatioQ, to HonvQ'i
" Elements of Psychology," obap. iii. ; M' Vicar's ** Enquiry into Human Nature.** chap. ix.
4 See « The Art of Keasoning," ehaplera vi-viil. Reier aUo to Whatefy-s " Bhetovie," part B.
il*
BHBTORia — HO. XXlUs 403
acceptance hj the intellect as the true and valid results of the data previously determined
upon and accepted.
Thus far, however, expression has only become the exponent of conceptions in their
nspective wholes of discovery and reflection. There is yet a farther process which must
be evolved in the mind before action can result, viz., Persuasion, i, e., emotive acquiescence,
to which we must direct attention for a brief space. The intellect is capable of deciding
upon the advisability of pursuing a certain course of procedure, or the truth or falsehood of
a certain series of truths, but it is incapable of directly urging to actiim ; this must be
determined on by the will, although initiated by the intellect. " Will, properly so called,
is the final state of desire, when mental deliberation has decided on the propriety of some
predominant impulse. It is true the intellectual organs inspire special desires relative to
their peculiar functions; but they are deficient in the energy necessary to induce action,
which depends solely on the emotional impulse."* " Conviction is addressed to the under*
standing; persuasion to the passions. Conviction is the impression made upon the under-
standing by the force of arguments; persuasion is the impr^sion made upon the passions
by the exhibition of objects by which they may be agitated. Conviction denotes that the
understanding is satisfied of the truth or rectitude of what has been advanced; persuasioa
implies a great deal more, viz., that the passions are engaged in behalf of what the under-
standing approves, and that the hearer will proceed to put in practice what he b convinced
is right and true. The passions are the springs of action. Conviction does not always
ensure action : in a thousand instances we acknowledge the reality and utility of action,
and yet remain inactive. But let the passions be interested, — let them be roused by the
prospect of some great good to the pubKc or ourselves, or with the prevention of some
formidable evil of which wc apprehend the approach, — ^and it will be impossible for us not
to proceed to act."! " Conviction is, however, one avenue to the inclination or heart ; and
it is that which an orator must first bend his strength to gain ; for no persuasion b likely
to be stable which b not founded on conviction. But, in order to persuade, the orator
must go farther than merely producing conviction ; he must consider man as a creature
moved by different springs, and must act upon them all. He must address himself to the
passions; he must paint to the fancy and touch the heart; and hence, besides solid argu-
ment and clear method, all the conciliating and interesting arts, both of composition and
pronunciation, enter into the idea of eloquence."t ** Persuasion, therefore, depends on, first,
arguments — to prove the expediency (&c.) of the means proposed ; and, secondly, what is
usually called exhortation, i, c, the excitement of men to adopt t^ese means, by represent-
ing the end as sufficiently desirable.'*§
From all these various cumulative opinions, which we have rather adopted as expressed
by the respective authors than lessened in expressiveness by any paraphrase of our own,
it will seem evident that the science of Rhetoric b much more extensive than that of
Logic Rhetorical skill signifies the capacity of reasoning well united with grace and
fluency of expression, attractiveness of exposition, and the art of calling into activity the
* Comte's " Philosop)i]r of the Sciences/' hjQ.B.. Lewes, p. 226.
•f Barron's " Lectures on Belles Lettrea and Logic," xxr.
i Blair's " Leetures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettrts/* xxv.
j Whately's " Rhetoric;' part ii. p. IIS.
404 RHETORIC. — 'SO, XXIII.
whole energies of the human mind. Logic is demonfltration. Divested of rhetorical onu-
ment and delivery, it can only affect the intellect, — only exhibit truth in its plainest and
simplest forms; thus it may, indeed, bring men to accept the truths which it expounds;
but how will it induce actions appropriate to these truths? The logician anatomises the
whole thought, exhibits its framework, and thus proves that, however much external
appearance is against him, the inner truth of things bears witness in his favour; the
rhetorician chooses the fair outward form, presents it in the most favourable view to the
party addressed, enters into detail, attracts the attention, wins the affections, and when he
has thus impressed the heart he can demonstrate to the intellect with much greater
acceptability the truths which underlie appearances. There is another distinction also.
Logic seeks demonstration — strict, valid, and scientific; but many of the most important
inquiries which engage the attention of humanity do not admit of rigid, formal proof of
such a nature; now, here Bhetoric has the advantage, for in probability its true and proper
field lies. This opinion coincides with the Aristotelic notion of Bhetoric, viz., that it is a
science which expounds ** all the possible means of producing persuasion on any given
subject," — that science which deals with the rattones prohalnktf i, e., those arguments
which the understanding can receive as plausibly supporting any proposition, but to which
it cannot yield a logical assent. All certain proofs at once ignore and set aside the possi-
bility of opinion ; they transcend the region of probability, and demand the instantaneoos
assent of the intellect. Certainty gives hnoteledge ; probability yields rarmtM, opwioa,
sentiment, beliefs conviction. The former is the domain of pure science; the Utter is the
territoiy of applied science, especially of the science of social life (IToXcrurfT — sociolof^).
The logician, therefore, most properly employs himself in those inquiries which belong to
philosophical research ; the rhetorician most properly exerts his powers upon those questions
in which there is a chance of right or wrong, and consequently room for chmce, — where
there are prat and cofw., and the possibility of variations in the strength of belief or
unbelief, or degrees in the interest which men are likely to feel in the ultimate effects c£
the reception or rejection of the opinion or truth presented. We do not make this distinc-
tion for the purpose of advocating the absolute restriction of all the efibrts of the cnltivaton
of these respective sciences within the special limits here assigned them. We believe this
is impossible. The logician must think syllogistically, hut express himself rhetorically;
and the rhetorician must express himself rhetorically, although he must think logicaHj:
this is the necessity of the human mind. All that we contend for here ia, that Lo^c,
which deals primarily with the demonstrable, and which strives to reduce all thoogfat to
demonstrative and scientific formality, is transcended by Rhetoric, which not only homolo-
gates the scientific, and bases many of its reasonings thereon, but goes forth into the
probable, and endeavours to conquer therefrom some portion of the hitherto uncertain, aod
make it, if not the certain, at least the believable. Every rhetorician must be a legidan,
but he must also be something more; every logician, however, so far forth as he is a
logician, need not be a rhetorician.
Keeping in view, then, this distinction between the logical and the extra-lc^cal fac-
tions of the rhetorician, let us endeavour to understand the laws of anraagemsit which
may be advisably adopted m the treatment of any given subject in which there is gnaojl
for persuasion.
RHETOBIO. — MO. XXIII. 405
All the different kinds of prose compositions majr, mth regard to the end which the
writer has in view, be classified onder one or other of the following species, or some
combination of these, viz. — I. K^ative or Descriptive; II. Didactic or Preceptive; III.
Argumentative; IV. Persuasive.
L Kasrative or Descriptive Compositions are those which give an account of
some event or events, and of the persons concerned in them, the plac«s in which thej
occurred, or the objects among which they took place. Thej include (a) histories —
natural, sacred, civil, and literary, including antiquities, laws, customs, arts, &c.; (6) bio-
graphies, including epistolary correspondence ; (c) novels and other fictitious narratives, as
tale, l^end, apologue, parable, fable, &c.; (jd) voyages and travels. 'They refer (1) to
external objects; (2) to internal processes; (3) to the action and reaction of these two,
i. e., extraordinary events; (4) to the actors in these events; and these ought, in general,
to be exhibited in the order, first, of time; secondly, of place; thirdly, of causation; in
short, thpy will follow the order exhibited in the inductive department of the " Synopsis
of the Principles of Proof."
II. Didactic or Preceptivb Compositions are those in which instruction is con-
yeyed and rules are given for the regulation and orderly study of the subject regarding
which the composition treats; such as expositions of the sciences and arts, treatises on
etiquette, methods of study, &c. They also generally follow the process of explanation
formally exhibited in that part of the " Synopsis" devoted to induction.
III. Argumentative Compositions are those which contain regular trains of rea-
soning, or such arrangements of principles and facts already known and established, or
accepted and assumed as known and established, as shall lead to the demonstration of the
truth or utility of some proposition hitherto undetermined, or the ascertainment of some
fact hitherto unknown. Of such a nature are philosophical treatises, critical essays,
imaginary dialogues, dissertations, pleadings, speeches, &c.
In all argumentative discourse there must be a subject^ regarding which the reasoning is
held. When this subject requires explanation, there must be a definition. Then there
must be some judgment which it is thought desirable to establish regarding the subject.
This judgment is called a predicate. All the other parts of a discourse except the subject
and predicate constitute argwnerUs, i. e., middle terms. These are employed to prove the
applicability of the predicate to the subject, — the necessary implication, in some form, of
the one in the other. Arguments are either demonstrable or probable; the former do not
admit of doubt or hesitation; the latter admits of all degrees of intellectual assent. All
that is possible is, in a certain sense, probable; but the mind naturally and necessarily
estimates the probability of anything presented for belief in proportion to its accordance
with hnovm co-ordinations and successions. Proof is the inferring of a conclusion from
premises assumed or known. Proof cannot exist without belief in the premises; but the
conclusion drawn may be true independent of the belief which it receives; for this want of
belief may result from a deficiency in the mental acuteness necessary to comprehend the
influence of the premises in determining the point at issue.
Proof may be strengthened in three ways: first, by limitation, i. e., by showing that the
opposite opinion would necessitate the denial of some ahready acknowledged or proven truth,
while yours only fills the vacant space which these leave; secondly, by accumulation, i, e.,
406 KRKTOMa — ^RO. xxm.
by the eoinddenoe of jonr opiaion with many other known or acknowledged tmthi, end its
Gontnidiotion of nooe; thirdly, by syBtemaUzation, tL e., by its forming an il«n toward
presenting an hannonione view of all other previooaij^ known or acknowledged £Kte or
tmths, or its tendency to homologate with and increase the endenoe whidi these already
possess. The ready perception and aceorate collocation of proofii oonstitntes the psrfection
of argnmentaUon. A soand logic alone can fnlly eqnip the mind for thus dealing with the
cogency of proof. Shetoric, however, can inform ns ^at laws onghi to be followed is
presenting the assemblage of proofs to the mind of the party addressed.
Some of the laws which onght, in general, to be observed in the presentation of tenths
to the mind in argumentative diseonrses are as follow, viz.: —
1. Never propoee to prove self-evident propositions.
Proof is impossible. The attempt is lrkt<HDe as well et displeasing to the paftist aMcsMd.
Irinome, because they tknmiy acknowledge k; and dispfeasing, beoeose il msinuates a wsoi
of capacity in Iheni. It is, at Uie same time, a proof of want of ingnaoity in the speaker or writer.
2. Begin with a clear statement of your subject, or with an introdoction which will
naturally lead to that
If an introduction is used, it should be sirikinf , approprialB, and proportionate.
3. Observe a regular sequence in yonr arguments, that each one may natarally lead to
the other.
4. Let your chief arguments be few, cogent, and make them bear as directly en the
point to be proven as possible.
Saperflnotts trguinents eflboe stronger ones, exhaust psiieooe, and eneoorage the idea tint
where weak arguments are used the point is weak. If tiM few are atrong they will be afeetasL
5. Express yonr arguments in as fsw words as possible, conmstent with perspionity.
6. Illustrations should be so intermingled with ai^nments as to rriieve and please the
mind, and thus produce variety without confnsien.
7. Arguments should be arranged in the order of importanee; the least important irst,
the strongest leading up the rear. They should form a climax.
8. Opposing aiguments should be considered in the introduction or exordiom; sossire
ones in the oonclusion or peroration.
9. Transitions from one ailment to another ought to be managed in accordance mtb
one or other of the laws of association.
Such compositions should, in general, fellow the order laid down in " Hm Synepiis ti
the Principles of Proof," under the^ head ** Deduction."
IV. Pbbsuasive CoKFosmoMS are those which have the excitement of the cDsotidul
nature of man as their chief aim, — such as are intended to excite ailection, desim, «r pii-
sion, — action directed by certain motives to a given end. ** Passion is the mover to
action, — ^reason the guide. Good is the object of the will. Tnilh is the el^eet «f the
nnderstanding. It is only through the passions, afieotiens, and sentimenta of the bcsrt
that the will is to be naehed. It is not less necessary, therefore, in the orator, to aaata
those affections in the hearers which can be made to co-operate most easily with his risv,
than it is to satisfy their nnderatandingi that the conduct to which he wonld penaade
them tends to the gratifieation of the afiectioos raised. But, though bs(th an rsaDy |V^
posed by^the speaker, it b the last only that is formally pnssnted to them as m^bmagi^
&HSTORIC.->Xa ZJUIL 407
hiH plan. To express a formed purpose to work upon their passions, would be like giving
them warning to be upon their gnard, for that he has a design upon them. Artu ett
ctlare artem,"* Persuasion is of two kinds: first, that which appeals to the finer and less
violent emotions (HOoc); secondlj, that which excites the boibterous and inflammatorf
passions (ITa^oc). Almost all kinds of composition admit of the former; few, howerer,
admit of the latter. To apportion the dae amount of persnasion requisite to {Mrodnce a
given action or course of action, with tlie proper sentiments from which such action or
course of action should result, requires great good sense and careful self- management.
The following are a few of the laws of Will, according to which the rhetorician must
arrange the several items of persuasion, viz. : —
Ist. Men are animated by a desire for self-preservation.
Thb desire naturally leads men to action for tiie purpose of procuring the means of subsistence,
health, strength, happiness, &c., and to avoid any action which knowingly leads to their being
deprived of these.
2nd. Men desire to better their condition.
This law gives rise to the progression of man ; it gives rise to the race for riches, rank, honours,
pleasures, &o., and is the foundation of the emulative spirit, as well as an excitative to tiie
attainment of excellence, moral and mental.
Srd. Man is a being possessed of social desires.
Henoe arise civic and political duties and rights, the necessity of justice, truth, &c., the tendency
to charitable deeds, the restraints of law, &c.
•4lh. Man is a being who desires to possess knowledge.
Hence all the manifestations of curiosity, &c., which lead to tiie acquisition of science, 6ce.
We do not at present speak of the higher and nobler destinies for which man feds him-
self fitted, and of which he hopes hereafter to be a partaker; we have confined ourselves to
the mere instinctive laws of his emotional nature, and have not attempted to elaborate all
the loci argumentorum which the mental habits of the educated, and especially the chris-
tianized, man might afford. In them the above-named laws become purer and more
refined, not essentially altered ; and hence the general principles of persuasion are essentially
the same in all. In all we must appeal to the human consciottsness for the oorroboratioa
of the ultimate facts on which persuasion rests.
Although we have thus differentiated these several species of composition from each
other, we do not wish to imply that, in practice, they are ever to be fonnd in* this strictly
specific state; on the contrary, we wish it to be distinctly understood that they are generally,
if not always, found in combination. These combinations may be very various, and may not
be readily distinguishable from each other; yet there can be little doubt, from the imity of
notion which seems to be a law of mind, that one portion of the mentality very seldom, if
«ver, acts without exciting activity in some other range or group of faculties. The proper
management of all the passible combinations of composition must be left to the tact and
Judgment of the individual; no system of general rules could be serviceable in effectuating
those specific purposes which time and circnmsttince are always combining to eliminate in
the human souL A wide range of sympathies with the movements of ^ the age in which
* Camibt-ll s *' Leotures on PiJpit £loqueoce," xiL
408
IS THE BAPTIBIf OP nFAim A PRACTICB
we live" — an exteniive and thorongh culture of our intellectual nature — a keen eneeepti-
lulitj for the perception of truth in its adaptation to popular necessities— a dear method-
ising judgment — ^a careful and nice adjustment of the Tarions logical processes implied ia
the topic engaging our attention — and a correct and fluent emplojrment of the particular
language in which we wish to utter our thoughts, are some of the chief requintes for a
true rhetorician,~-one who gives fitting utterance to fitting thoughts at fitting times.
IRtliginn.
IS THE BAPTISM OF IXFAN'TS A PRACTICE IN HAKMONY WITH THE
SCRIPTURES ?
NEGATIVE REPLY.
"The Bible speaks not to the eye, but to the
intellect; not to the eor, but to the soul. It
yields its precious ores not to those who merely
search the surface, but to those only irho labo-
riously penetrate its mines. To extract the real
spirit of any one passage, many passages must be
studied. To become a scriptural intfrpreter, a
man must have a scriptural mind, and be living a
scriptural life. To those who approach this divine
light in any temper less diligent or less devout
than this, ii opens innumerable source* of error.
The Syro-Chaldaio was the only articulate
speech through which it was possible that Christ
should reach and inform the understanding of
his hearer* If we had possessed iu Greek
or in Latin the very expressions of Him who
spake as never man spake, what would have been
the unavoidable result 7 What but this, that the
ScoKgert and the Btntleyt of each successive
X would have usur^d over the minds of their
erate fellow Christians on authority even more
despotio than that which they have hitherto
claimed and exercised? Our blessed Lord did
not see fit that Unifuiit*, and rHfirs, and gram-
marian»t end lexUographertf should thus be able
to interpose between himself and those whom,
until the end of time, he condescended to instruoL
Would not such a transmission from one
generation to another of the very words of our
Great Teacher have caused them to be degraded,
still more than they have hitherto been degraded,
into themes of philolo^oal debate, for learned
trifling, for arrogant criticism, and for the dog-
matical interpretations of those who at all times
aspire to a scholastic lordship over the heritage
of Christ r' — ** Essays in Ecclesiastical Biogra-
phy" by tha Right Hon. Sir James SUfphen,
vol.i .
We hare preyiouslj treated this question
historically, and have shown — ^from the prac-
tice of the Jews as early as the Babylonish
captivity, from the history of John the Bap-
tist, the history of our Saviour, and the prac-
tices of the apostles and early Christians—
that infant baptism is not in harmony with
the scriptures, but was an inyention of the
doctors of the church, certainly not earlier
than the latter part of the second oeoturr.
We now proceed to show the moral ngniji'
cance of ike riUf from its nature, the quali-
6cations required of candidates, and the
terms employed respecting it in the scrip-
tures. We will, however, first endeavour to
remove a few of the non-essentials; "and,
limiting the question to an absolute ani
definite form, thus concentrate our own sod
the reader's thoughts npon the real point at
issue. Proselyte-baptism, arising from the
traditional views of certain passages of scrip-
ture by the rabbins, and the ceremooisl
observances deduced by them therefrau,
cannot be authoritative examples to us, the
authors of these rites not being competeot
to make a law binding and imperative. Is
perfect apposition with these remarks siv
the words of Christ when he speaks <tf the
rabbins " making the word of God of nooe
effect by the traditions they had delivered,*
Mark vii. 13.
John's baptism, being a concomitant ef
his ministry and office, must partake of
their ephemeral nature. This opinion is
strengthened by considering the time of his
ministry, the nature of his office, and the
want of necessary knowledge, both in the
person officiating and in the candidates ob>
serving the rite.
The baptism adopted and practised br our
Saviour and his disciples dtiring his mimstry
are to be classed with the initiatory and
purificatory rites or customs of the Jces
The practice being at that time gcDsnl to
IN HAK^IoNY Wllir 'IIIK S< llirTI i:i.> ?
■lO'J
receive all disciples into ;iny scIiodI or jjouicty at piye 12U lii; S]>cak.s ui' it hiiii;; rr^-urJed
by an initiatory rite, in most instanced this ' by the Jews, at the time of Christ's udvent,
rite was pecnlinr to the school or society ; the as " a badge or profeuion of ditcipleship,"
pecnliar rites of the Jews being baptism, or What is the scriptaral import of the terms,
circumcision, or both, according to circum- ! "a dlgcipW* (Madiyr^/c, **MathGtrs"), and
stances. In the case of tlie disciples of "fo ciwci/}/*!" (MaOi|revci), "Mathutvuo*'), it
Christ, OS they were all circnmcised Jews, is, then, of considerable importance in the
the initiatory rite was baptism ; hence, during present debate that we should proceed to
the life of Christ, baptism must be considered ! determine. A disciple is one who, convinced
as forming part of the Jewish system, then of the superiority of any master or teacher
abont to close (as forming part of that j (AtcacrcaXof, "Didaskalos"), places himself
" rifi^hteousness" which it became Christ " to I completely under his control, both in the
folfir as a Jew), preparatory to the christian ' acquisition and dissemination of the truths
dispensation, commencing with the sacrilicial | taught by the master, and rules his life in
death of Christ. \ accordance therewith O^^^t. viii. 19; x. 24).
Immediately preceding his ascension, our i In this sense it is particularly applied to the
SaTionr addresses these words to his dis- I twelve apostles in the following passages,
ciples, ** All power is given to me in heaven : Matt. x. 1 ; xi. 1 ; xx. 17 ; Luke ix. 1. At
and npon earth. Go, therefore, throughout ' the last passover Jesus gives emphatic ex-
all the nations of the world; ]»roclaim the | pressiveness to the term (John xiii. 35);
good tidings to the whole creation ; disciple , and, as a proof of their true discipTeshipf he
or convert the people, teaching them to ! indicates the necesity of their continuance in
observe all things I have commanded you. i the faith of the gospel, their dependence on
He who shall believe and be baptized, in the < him, and the duty of bearing fruit in his
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of I cause (John xv. 1 — 10). To disciple signidm
the Holy Ghost, shall be saved ; but he who I to teach, to instruct, to train as a disciple
'will not believe shall be condemned.*' — (See (Acts xiv. 21 ; Matt, xzviii. 19); and in the
l>r. G. Campbell's Translation of the Gospels, | passive form (see Matt xiii. 52) " the sense
Matt, xxviii. 18; Mark xvi. 15, 16.) HerCj | is either ' instructed for the Messiah's king-
then, is the institution of christian baptism. { dom,' so as to understand its nature, or * dis-
From this point we must set out in ail our cipled into the Messiah's kingdom,' i. p., con-
positive inquiries. The existence of any verted to Christianity, or admitted by dis-
practice previous to or contemporary with cipleship into Christ's society." — (Sec Dr.
this conmiission may tend to throw light Bloomfield in loc.f and his " Lexicon," page
npon the question, as indicating the customs 313.)
or usages of those times, but caimot in any
The constituent elements of the christian
way contravene or subvert the rite instituted I church are thus pourtrayed by an eminent
bj this precept. The question now opened
to onr consideration reads thns : — Is infant
baptism, as practised at the present time by
the christian church, a practice in harmony,
or identical with, the christian baptism of
Picdobaptist di\dne: — ^"The materials com-
posing a church are definite and peculiar.
The only members properly belonging to it
are such as give evidence of their obedience
to the Lord Christ. The edifice is intended
the scriptures? It must be readily admitted to be an holy habitation, and holy are the
by oar Psedobaptist brethren, that if it could living stones of which it is compoAed. The
he proved that infants were baptized by the ' regenerate alone should be admitted into
Jewuih rabbins, by John the Baptist, or by .. fellowship. This is a cardinal point that
Christ himself during his life, infant baptism | ought never to be overlooked Nothing
could not be binding on ns as christian bap- | can compensate for the absence of piety in
tism unless the terms of the commission I one desiring admission into a church
inclade infants, and the practices of the
apostles give examples of their so under-
standing the commission. Dr. Ilalley, in
his *' Lectures on the Sacraments" — Part L
** Baptism" — at page 7, calls baptism " the
imtiatory rite of the christiiin church ;" and
No amount of religious knowledge, or fanii-
liarity with the doctrines of the Bible, or
fluency of conversation on serious themes,
should cover over the want of religion, and
serve for introduction into the community.
If pastors have a sincere desire to act
410
n TBB BAPnsX OF IXFAVn ▲ PRACnCE
•eeording to the rereakd will of Chmt, to
be faithful mnd oooacieBitioQs in the oversight
of a flock, and to prMenre the minde of the
^Uadplee from oontamination, thej ninst be
eepeciailj oaiefol of parity of commnnioD." —
<See pages 58, 60— 6S, of Dr. Davidson's
^'EcclesiasticalPoUtyoftbeNewTestament.'')
We ftillj agree vrith Drs. Halley and Da-
vidson on these points, and believe that oar
fioited opinion harmonizes with the sense
and intentien of the great eommission.
** Disciple all nations, baptizing them in the
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of
the Hoi J Ghost, teadiing thnn to observe all
things ^atsoever I have commanded joo;"
that is, first disciple, then baptize them, on
A prafession of their faith in the triune
Jehovah, and afterwards teach them the full
^totait of practical obedience in tlieir daily
walk and converBation. The classic student
will recove fuller conviction of this view of
the case by an examination of the gram-
matical oonstrnotion of the commission.
Here is the chief verb, dtteiple, followed by
the participles hapiidng and «eacAai^,—
three separate and distinct actions, the Utter
two dependent upon the former evidently in
the order of sueoession indicated by their
pssition in the sentence, in accordance with
the rule, that ''every action which admits
<S being considered as only accompanying
Another which Is the main action, and may
thus be represented as an accessory circnm-
fltance of another, the Greeks are fond of
expressing by the participle; and even when
two finite verbs are joined by * and,' one of
them is genemlly put in the participle and
the copula is omitted. . . . Several participles
frequently stand in one proposition without a
connexion, where the conjunctive particle
^onld represent these verbs as three separate
«dioas."— (Matthaie— Partidples.) So that
when our Lord said, ''Disciple all the na-
tions, bsptizing them, teadiing them to obey,"
it is equal to his saying, " Disciple and bap-
tise and teach.** The three actions are ne-
cessarily consecutive in each individual, but
with the whole body of apostles might be
contemporaneous, beeanse, while one apostle
was in the act oif diacipUng, another might
be baptizing, and another teaching the detail
cf practical obedience; and, in the individual
submitting to the rite, he is first disdpled,
then baptized, then taught the aeeeeaity of
fraotical piety.
That rspeotanoe and fiuth wen rsqaiied
of candidates for baptism, is evident, not oolr
from the commission, but from the answer of
Peter to the convicted sinners on the dsy of
Pentecost, "Bepent and be baptised every
one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for
the remission of sins," Acts ii. 37. Tbey
were " pricked in their hearts." While he,
obedient to the oommand of his Lord, was
engaged in the act of diadpUng, they cried
out, "What shall we do?" He hariag
taught them how Jesus the Nazarene, when
they had cmelly crucified, was delivered into
thdr hands for that purpose by " the deter-
mmate counsel of God," and had aow becooM
their anointed Saviour and glorified Lord,
required immediate proof of penitence ssd
faith by their willing obedience to, and pablk
profeasion of his name in the act of faaptica;
baptism into the name of Jeaas, er of tbe
Trinity, implpng the profiBssion sf a sariof
knowledge of Jesus, or a justifying faith is
him. "Ye are all the children of God br
faith in Christ Jesus. For as many cf joa
as have been baptized into Christ have pi^
on Christ," Gal. iu. 26, 27. "Znow ye set
that so many of us as were baptized bto
Jesus Christ were baptized into his desth?
Therefore we are buried with him by baptisD
into death: that like as Christ was raised «p
f ro*n the dead, even so we also shonld va2k
in newness of life," &c. Bom. vL 3, 4. ** £rA
baptism doth also now save na, not hj tk
putting away the filth of tbe fieah, bat tb^
answer of a good conscience towards M'
1 Pet iii. 21. See also Col. ii. lO-li:
1 Cor. zii. 12^14. In these pamgw bs^
tism is spoken of as patting on Christ— •»
evidencing the faith which oonstitntei tbe
baptized a child of God — as dedaiatiee <tf
faith in the sacrifldal death of Chrict, scd
of personal participation therein — as abovkij;
the necessary existence of newnass sf ^
equally with the neeesaty of Christ's mu-
rection to glory. We have seen that bapt^
is "the initiatory rite of the cfariitic
church," and "a badge or praleaaM d dis-
cipleship;" we have aUo seen that the cbaiti
of God is composed of tbsm who an *^auie^
to he saints," the " sanctified" and " fiuiUa:
biethren in Christ Jesus;' that " wbcorre
a sinner believes he is a member of tbii ifB-
ritual household, and invested with tbe is-
mnnities of heavenly citizenships* thst be i«
adiidple, whose mind is to be
^ -
ni HARMOHT WITH THS 8CRIFTURBS ?
411
from oontamtoation bj the sincere pastor;
Aertfcre baptism ia rigktlg adwUnistered to
tkote only kMo are duly qualified for church
mtentbership, r&z., the believinff, faithful,
sametified brethren in Chriet Jesus f since
^ nothing can wmpensate for the absence of
piety m one desiring crimission into a church."
We have, thronghont the present debate,
pfodaoed each arguments onij as are far-
■ished to tbe believer- Baptist in the writings
«f his Pndobaptist brethren, no quotation
htmg made in support of our views but
from the faolj scriptures and the writings
«f eminent and honoured infant-Baptists.
Mora might have been easily produced, and
various contradictions pointed out, but space
firlnds; and we now hasten to the examina-
<ioo of some of the opposing arguments
•ddooed during tbis debate. It is a matter
<i surprise to us that " Glowr," the appear*
«nc6 of whose signature in these pages shows
him to be no inexperienced writer, should
advocate the cause of infant baptism with
■neh puerile and long-exploded arguments.
Sorely, if he be " free" from " wayward bias*'
•ad ** intemperate zeal," which we cheerfully
jield in his favour, we must affirm that he
is not " free** from " fancy's influence." He
—Berts that ''the true church of God is the
mume under all dispensations;*' that "children
were admitted members thereof under the
^Jewish dispensation by the rite of circum-
cision ;** and that ** the condnct of our Lord
JFesos Christ towards children harmonizes
with this;** therefore ''the infanU of believ-
«f8 are members of the (christian) church,"
whether baptized or not. The incorrectness
«f "Glowi^s** thoughts and reasoning in
these particulars are so apparent, the bare
mention of them in juxtaposition renders
fiuiher comment unnecessary.
With respect to the analogy said to exist
tietween the rite of circumcision among the
Jews and the rite of christian baptism, as
instituted by Christ and observed by the
jrpoetles, we are at a loss to know where our
opponents find it; "Glowr's'* remarks cer-
tainly do not show it, but the contrary, for
be proves the coexbtence* of the two rites
in the Jewish dispensation and in the chris-
* " A stran^r that is circmneiMd and not bap-
tSaeif or baiMised and not drctuncivedp he is uo(
a proselyUs till he be both drrumdsed and bap-
tised." — See Maimony in Muelmaf torn. fi.
dbap. 13.
tian dispensation (see p. 256, col. 2); the
latter is also proved by Acts xv. 1 — 1 1. Two
rites observable by the same individual, fisr
the same purpose, and at the same time,
lose the power of analogy by the veiy cir-
cumstance of their coexistence.
At the institution of drcamcision it was
made the seal of the covenant between God
and the descendants of Abraham as a nation,
whereby a Jew was recognised in his political
condition as a citizen of the Jewish common-
wealth ; his spiritual relationship to God was
not secured thereby, for, in order to this, he
must be " circumcised in heart,** Gen. xvii.
14; Rom. ii. 25—29; Deut. x. 16; xxx. 6.
The qualiBcation fnr circumcision was Jewish
descent; its effect, legalization as a Jew.
The qualifications for christian baptism are
repentance and faith; its effect, admission
into the soc'ety of professing Christians.
In the former, a physical quali6cation, and
social or political effect: in the latter, a
moral or spiritual qualification and effect; in
both respects as widely different as possible;
hence the absoice of analc^y. Moreover,
drcumcision was tbe seal of the Abrahamic
covenant. This was its distinctive character.
It was not a new rite, but an old rite, adopted
from other nations, restricted in its applica-
tion, and applied as a seat to the promise
then made to Abraham of the possession by
his seed of the promised Canaan. In vain
do we Xoxk. for an analogy to circumcision
in the rite of christian baptism. The seal
of the new covenant is the Spirit of God,
** whereby (the believer) is sealed unto the
day of redemption." When sinners believe
in Christ they are " sealed with that Holy
Spirit of promise,** which is " the earnest of
their inheritance until the redemption of the
purchased possessions,** £ph. i. 13, 14; it.
30. The seal, then, that comes in the room
of circumcision^ is the seal of the Spirit^ and
not baptism.
The very patroninng air with which friend
B. S. remarks upon what he designates our
"suppressions'* and "inadvertencies'* pro-
vokes our risibility, particularly as, in the
performance of his task, be makes many
ludicrous additions to the truth. For his
information we beg to observe, that the Bap-
tists are not divided on any subsidiary point
connected with baptism. The division re-
ferred to is upon the doetrine of redemption,
one section behering it to be particnlari bnt
412
18 THE BAFTUM OF DIFAIITS A PBACTXCE
the other believing it to be genend. Both
sections practise believer-baptism by immer-
sion.
B. S. refers to "Maimonides" and to
^ Mishna" as Jewish rabbit, and vtriten of
the Targums. Shall we saj that it is
''merelj the resnlt of inadvertence" that
B. S. produces as an anthoritj a person who
never had existence? Who ever heard of
Mishna as a writer of a Targnm, or anj
other rabbinical work? Whj, the Mitchna
(which we suppose u intended by B. S.) is
the writing ittelf^ and not the writer, for " the
Talmnds consist of the Mischna, or oral law,
which is the text, and of the Gemara, which
are the comments and decisions npon it by
the Jewish doctors." We ourselves attach
little importance to the evidence from the
Talmuds upon this subject, although decisive
in our favour, because so far removed from
the time of our Saviour's advent. The earliest
portion was not written until after the prac-
tice of infant baptism had been introduced
into some portion of the church, that is,
about 150 years after the destruction of
Jerusalem; other portions were written so
late as A.D. 230 and 500, and the portion
ascribed to Maimonides about A-d. 1100;
and, although action and reaction upon each
other had caused many corruptions both in
the Jewish and Christian doctrines, Mai-
monides makes it necessary that the cliildren
of proselytes, if circumcised in infancy,
should delay baptism until able to understand
the requirements of the law. In our former
paper we have not made a parade of our
learning, neither have we perplexed the
reader with Greek quotations and criticisms
upon any ancient texts of the holy scriptures,
for the reason that such was not necessary
to the subject, and we presumed the greater
portion of our readers are not Greek scholars;
for the same reason we regret that B. S. has
adopted an opposite course in his treatment
of Ac^ xix. 1 — 7. Yet it has led us to re-
examine our own opinion upon this passage;
and, after consulting every available autlio-
rity, our opinion that John's baptism is dis-
tinct from christian baptism is thereby very
much strengthened and confirmed. We wi^
to avoid harsh criticism, or we might speak
strongly upon B. S.'s doctrine of omiseiont and
epuriout texts, a doctrine which he applies
to hb opponent, but forgets to apply it on
the same authority to himself in the passage
now under consideratioo. The absurdity cf
hie uee of the transient and completed sense
of the aorist tense is evidenced by the facts
of the case, which are such that any EngM
scholar of ordinary capacity would certainly
refuse to put the construction B. S. has pot
upon them. Some years after the discourse
and events here recorded, Luke gives a his-
tory of them, and very naturally (supposinf
him to have written in Greek) he spMks df
the various actions and fricts in the aorist
tense, as having to him and his readers a
past and, to some extent, a completed sig-
nificance; but when he speaks of the coo*
nected events having reference to the future
faith of John's disciples on the appearance of
Him *' who was coming,'* he uses the f atore
tense (pistensosi), or the aorist participle of
a verb having a future significance (triho-
menon). The conversation between PasI
and the twelve Jews begins with the secood
verse and closes with the fourth. In the
fifth verse Luke, in continuance of the nar-
rative, describes the efiect of PauFs words
upon the Jews, and their ready obedience to
the duty he enfOTces upon them : — *^ There-
fore, hearing this, they were baptized in the
name of the Lord Jesus.** They were €jr-
merly baptized with the baptism of repent-
ance; they are now ** baptized into Chriit'—
'Mnto his death.** They were r^ptizei
We are much pleased to find oar views
confirmed by that learned and pious icia.
the Bev. Albert Barnes, in his Notes (Act«
xix. 5), who, as a Padobaptist, certainly viJ
not be accused of favouring the argumrst of
tlie believer-Baptist: — "U w evident tk'Ti
these persons were rAaptiaed Ijf the dirtc-
tion of Pant ;for (I) tAw is ike tiriomf in-
terpretation ((fthepassage — that idkacA r^'
strike all persons as correct, mtlen there
were some previous theor^f to tuppoTi. (S)
It was not a matter of hot that John bif-
tized in tl^ name of Chiist Jesus. His ▼*■<
the baptism of repentaooe; and there is iK-t
the slightest evidence that he ever used the
name of Jesus in the form of bapti^s.
(S) If this be the sense of the passax;e, ti»t
John baptized them in the naoM of Jessi.
then this verse is a mere repetitian of iwe
4; a tautology of which the sacred wri:ea
would not be guilty. (4) It is evident thst
the perBons on whom Paul laid his haoh
(verse 6), and those who were baptised, ^m
the same. But these were the persans vt>>
IS nARXONY WITH THE SCRIPTURES?
413
heard (verse 5) what was said. The Dar*
rative is continuoutj all parts of it cohering
together as relating to a transaction that
occiirz«d at the same time. If the obtfious
interpretation of the passage be the tme one,
it folloirs that the baptism of John wcu not
ftriethf ekristian baptism. It was the bap-
tism of repentance; a baptism designed to
prepare the way for the introduction of the
kingdom of the Messiah."
The confidence with which B. S. includes
all the inhabitants of Jadea in John's bap-
tism at J<»xlan is well answered by J. M. P.
In addition we would ask, if all in Judea,
jonng and old, were baptized by John, what
became of the Scribes and Pharisees whom
he rejected? Where did those Jews come
from who were baptized by Jesus? For we
read that Christ "baptized more diseiplea
than John." What! more than all the in-
habitants of Jndea? And, if " all nations"
(Matt. xzTiii. 19) were to be baptized before
being discipled or converted, or before be-
lieving in Jesus, why did not the apostles
act upon this view of the commission ? Why
did tiiey invariably adopt an opposite prac-
tice? B. S. will find it difficult to answer
these questions. We are fully aware that
some critics reject the authorized version of
Acts viii. 37 ; and while, as an isolated text,
some cioubt may attach to its authorship, we
feel that the opinion of the many learned
and good men who vindicate the retention of
the passage, either as it stands in the au-
thorized version or with some slight gram-
matical alteration, is worthy of some respecL
We envy not the Christian who has temerity
enough to reject as spurious any portion of
God's word, especially when the passage
contains doctrines in exact harmony with
many other portions of scripture. Would
B. S. admit his own argument of spurious
texts against himself, in the doctrine of the
Trinity, if I John v. 7 was objected to by
the Unitarian, and denounced as spurious?
He knows that the Trinity does not depend
on this one passage. He will readily per-
ceive the analogous position of baptism and
the Trinity in these respects ; and if he denies
not the one, he must not deny the other.
Dr. Whitby suggests the probability of this
passage being omitted by some who approved
of delaying baptism as long as possible.
Beza and Doddridge think it too important
to be omitted, while Griesbach and other
critics consider it as a marginal gloss
brought into the text, and prefer a trifling
variation in the reading. The position the
text occupies in our former paper shows that
we make no special use of it; all we claim
for it is admission as evidence so far as it is
corroborated by other passages; no farther.
We would ask B. S. what sense he would
make of the paragraph beginning at the
twenty-ninth verse, if the thirty-seventh
verse be omitted? What practical result
was obtained by Philip in his divine mission
to the eunuch, if he effected not the profes-
sion of faith? What was the writer's object,
if not to show his reader the amnexion of
teaching^ understanding ^ believing^ and obe-
dience t We invite the candid examination
of text and context by the thoughtful Psedo-
baptist, being fully assured he will never
think of applying B. S.'s doctrine of spurious
texts and omissions, at least to this pas-
sage.
In page- 295 B. S. designates believer-
baptism " a mere phantom of the brain," and
an impossibility. So we, by the same rule, sim-
ply substituting the words ** faith," " saint "
"apostle," "church," may say that these
are mere phantoms, and impossibilities, too.
We may be deceived by fal&e professions,
therefore true profession has no existence.
Upon what conditions are persons admitted
into Paedobaptist churches? Profession of
faith and obedience to Christ. But some
persons make false profession of faith, there-
fore Paedobaptist churches are impossibilities,
— mere phantoms of the brain. We leave
B. S. to follow out a few of the illustrations
of his argument, which he is able to find in
and around himself; and if he is diligent we
shall soon hear that he has convinced himself
his own existence is a mere phantom of his
own brain, — a perfect impossibility !
The early fathers and modern divines
whose opinions we produced as favouring our
view of the question all practised infant
baptism; so that the quotations made by
B. S. from their works only show that his
friends contradict themselves and each other,
both in doctrine and practice.
The remarks of J. F. coincide so nearly
with the arguments of " Glowr," that we refer
the reader to our strictures on the latter,
and proceed to review the production of our
friend "Benjamin." In page 372 "Ben-
jamin** observes, that " it is Uie duty of the
414
18 TRB BAFTDM OF TStrXSm A PRACTICE
obarcb to bestow baptism on tbe prasehfte^
who receives it as a tiffn or token of a privi-
lege— elifreA memberekip— com/erred f* and
not, as qnoted bf ns from toe Bislu^ of
Norwkb, page 254, tbat ** baptism was, on
tbe part ei the redeemed, a jjedge that be
beUoTed." Bj a reference to our quotation
it will be pereeiTed tbat it is considered a
pledge of faith hj an eminent divine of tbe
Church of England. Dr. Hallej, another
learned Pndobaptist and a Dissenter, says
" it is a badge of discipleship** — " tbe initia-
torj right of the christian church." These
definitions are of a cognate character; and
according to either, or tbe tenor of both con-
joined, we ask, bow can in&ots be proper
subjects of baptism? Can they receive the
token — tmderHemd and appreciate tbe pri-
■n\tge^po99eet the faith of which their act
is a pledge? Have thej tbe attributes of
disciples? Are they capable of knowing and
discharging tho duties of church member-
ship? If so, we shall feel obliged by * Ben-
jamin" informing us where a church so com-
posed is to be found.
** Benjamin** would wish us to understand
there is eseential difference between the
terms "proselyte-disciple" and "believer."
We can find nothing of the kind in the
scriptures; but we may be ** obtuse" and
** party-spirited " and therefore may " blink
at tbe point," as he insinuates. The only
passages in which proeefytee are mentioned
in the New Testament are, Matt, zxiii. 15;
Acts ii. 10; vi. 5; ziii. 43; and they dis-
tinctly show tbe proselyte to be a person
converted from the heathen to the Jewish
faith. So Bloomfield says: — "A proselyte,
a convert from paganism to the Jewish reli-
gion"— ^^ those who had become so (t. e.,
Jews) by conversion to tho Jewish religion."
Hence the term proselyte, in a christian
sense, comes to mean one who has newly
professed and adopted the christian futb, or
who has recently forsaken one phase of faith
and embraced another. From these views,
therefore, we conclude that a proselyte is a
neophyte — a babe in Christ; not physicilly
a babe, but spiritnally^a uem or yomtg be-
liever; and that a disdple is an obedieei
ftrtiiseer, desirous of guidance and instnc-
tion. Thus both are believers, and the tenns
"proselyte" and "disciple*' dengnate their
state as believers in the circamstanott of
time and progress. Hence the fallacy of
" Benjamin's" argument on tbe baptisffl of
infants, whom he pleasM to designate at,
" in some sense," proselytes and (fisctples.
We bad marked for quotatien several pas-
sages on the subject of this ddtate froa
" Hippolytus," by Chevalier Bunsen; sad,
although we have already trespassed too
far beyond the spaee at our disposal, we
cannot refrain from one extract: — '*Tbe
church adhered rigidly to tbe principle, is
constituting the true purport of tbe baptism
ordained by Christ, that no one can be a
member of tbe comnranion of aunts bat by
his own free act and deed, — by his own
solemn vow made in tbe preeace of the.
church. It was witb this undeistanding
that the candidate for baptism was inuner&ed
in water, and admitted as a brother, apen
his confession of the Father, tbe Srai, and
the Holy Ghost. It understeod baptisai,
therefore, in the exact sense of 1 Peter iii. 21 ;
not as being a mere bodily purificatifHi, bat
as avow made to God witb a good oonscience,
through faith in Jesus Christ. This vow
was preceded by a profession of christian
faith made In the face of the chur^ i&
whicb the catechumen expressed tbat Mtk
in Christ, and in tbe sufficient^ cS salvatica
offered by him. It was a vow to live, for the
time to come, to God and for bia nci^boor,
not to the world and for self; a vow of bU
becoming a child of God through tbe coo-
munion of his only begotten Stm in tbe H«y
Ghost; a vow of the moat solemn kind, f«v
life and for death."
Reader! we have endeavonred to show tbe
truth on christian baptism witb albctiocate
sincerity: how far we have succeeded, it '»
for you to judge. LX>utbix8.
AFFIRMATIVE REPLY.
It is witb great pleasure tbat we behold
evidences of the intense desire which many
young men now cherish to arrive at enlight-
ened and intelligent conclusions on all ques-
tions whicb afi^t the foundations of our
religious opinions. They are no koger sstis*
fied to abide by tbe dogmas of any sect, bat
they must ascertain for tberasdves, ** Vbst
is truth?" This angora weU fior tbe eoRbOC
age. And since we have peiftct hberty tt
dacDM tnt\j and openljr tbtte in>tlin, ni
look fo-mnl to b period not Tar diilsnC
wben Inith nhiil conquer error, ud nigi
withoDt ■ rini.
Among tbe qnratinns irhicb u yel ramui
nnuttled, » the one doit andn constderation
■ad >3 m had llio pJemaore of ffpcDiDg tbi
debaile, w« lure the priTilf,;e now of ini'
madrrrtinf; upon Ibe arguments vLkb hsv<
tlie onaet wn belien
fiDt^rtained were in Alrict
tin tenor of tho hible; ant
Lad no mnaji tn cbaoge ai ii
tbern. Ws brliere ourwlr
It tho V
Ban aaiertions, emplj c
tagenioiu miirepmcnUtiona wiu iHTer intia-
tact oa in tfaa le>st. And tb« nfatatioa of
a(iin|>la lajinf;, withoat reTiilini; tbe Duin
tr^inenti, certainly conBnna lU in oar pre-
riona belief, while it Rini ua a aomewbit
lawer apinian of our antagonUt. With but
faw (iccpli'ina, bowarer, we bijjblf commenil
tb« apirit Ibal baa penadtd Ibe aniclea ibat
hara appeared on tbis qoestiaiiT wa coold
hkra wiabrd that all the writer* had eihi-
tnted thini;s id Ibeir trae li|;bt, inBltaJ of
■nppreasini; some, anil misTtpreMntingothera.
J. W. W., for inxtancp, InBlead of combating
tho ar^QTnenUof bia opponent?, crea tea a fcv
imaginary onea in tlieir atend, and then tri-
mnphantly aiuteeds in aliowiag tbeir weak-
Deaa; to Iha adaiiralion, no doubt, of hia
Perhapa the beet pbxn for u>, in order to
czamina fairly lb« u-EDinenta of onr oppo-
e thini
bitherto bronght forward ; — lat. Th< com-
nunun of our Lord. Stnd. Faith an eaien-
tialreqniaitaforbuptiam. 3nl. Eccleaiaatical
hlatarr oppoixd to tbo application of baptUm
to infanta. 1th. Circamcuiion and baptiam
Goeiiiiltd under Ihg old diapenaation, and
thertfore the lulter could not be a anbatilute
for the forniar; ant) 5lh. If iiifaols have a
right !o the ordinance of baptium, they hare
an equal riebt to the ordinance of tli< Lorii'a
Sapper. Uera, we think, we have ibe whole
of oar opponenti' argDmenU; kt all erenta,
m hmTi uM wilfully mitlad one. And wa
nimM that it ii not oncsaaiy far ns to
I. The firat argument that appsin OB our
litt ia drawn from the cooiniuiaiaD of oar
Lord: " Go ye, therefore, and diaciple all
nBtiaos; baptizing them in the name of tha
Father, and of the Sun, and of the Holy
GhoaC.'' It was in eomplianca with tbi*
command that the apcatlea aet out upon tbs
work of onngeliiadon. Now, ws IhiDk that
Ibat the apoallea could not do olherwiaa
than ccHnprehend Ibe children of belierera
among Ihoie to whom the rile of baptism
ibould be applied; and B. S. subieqaenlly
prot'ed ita aiill more oitended Bignl6eaIi«T.
if. bowetar, we be not prepared to support
hit opioion, it ia anfficicnt for the point at
iiane, that only the eiiildieu of belia*ara were
comprchetided. And it seems sorpriaing lo
ua, that any persons, acquainted with tha
religious pririlegea nt children under Iha
Jewiab dispenaaiiun — tha cuatomswitb which
tbo disciples were necesearily familiar — the
aoxiely Cliiist erinced for the welfare of the
young — and other collateral circanutancM,
can by any poasibilily arrire at a concluaien
different from onr own. Had infant* not
been baptiied and circnmcised preTJoualy,
then the necessity for an enpreas command
for the application of baptiam to Ihem Hould
be deemed more argent and plausible;
sltboQ^h, indeed, we cannot sea why tbay
ahiiold be meutionrd more psrlicolirly tbaa
conalitule " all nations." We are at a loss
to conceive what aort of a conmisad anti'
PtBdubapiiati cousiiler aa necessary, before
ended ai
ing those
to whom the rile should be applied. Ws
pmnme it wonid be something like the fol-
lowing: " Go ye, therefore, and disciple all
nations and m/imti; and baptiie them in
tha name of the Falber, and of the Son, and
oftbeUulyGboit.'' Unless it be Mmwihing
similar to tlijs, we know not what they
require. And, reader, if it bad lieen worded
in Ibia manner, would it not bave raised a
smile npioi yoorconntenance? " All nation*
and infants!" Ws bare no each anomsloaB
expressiin in the command. Tha wordmg
ia clear, eitenairs, and deciaira; and ws ai«
neceaaitaled to accept tbs meaning wbieb
the worda would ecorty to Ilia diad^eii and
416
IB THB BAPTISM OF IHFAMTS A PBACTICB
from the drcamsUnoes in which thej were
sitaated, thej coald not do otherwise than
understand that the rite was to be applied to
infanta as fonnerlj.
Respecting the expression "all nations"
J. M. P. says, in replj to B. S., that " we do
not wish to limit it more than the words
nsed oblige ns to do. Disciple them." (We
discard "Teach all nations," as the word
teach is not in the original.) " Do not these
words exclude infants? How are we to dis-
ciple them? This comes to, * Who are the
Lord's disciples?'" In replj to this we maj
saj that we have several instances in scrip-
ture where children are called disciple» as
well as those of matnre age. One example
will sniBce; and we refer to Acts xv. In
that chapter, we find that dissension had
arisen in the chnrch respecting circumcision,
" the Pharisees sajing that it was needful ■
to circumcise them, and to command them
to keep the law of Moses." "And when
there had been much disputing, Peter rose
np and said unto them, Men and brethren,
.... why tempt ye God, to put a yoke
upon the neck of the disciples?" referring to
circumcision and the law of Moses. Kow,
circumcision undoubtedly would be carried
into effect on infanta — on the infants of
the church ; and then the yoke necessarily
would be on the neck of the infants, and |
infants therefore are by Peter called disci-
ples. We would not say that all the disci-
pies on whom the yoke would be were infisnts,
as J. W. W. most likely would represent us
as saying; but that the infants of believers,
as well as their parents, are included under
the term disciples. They are the lambs of
His fold, and are committed to the care of
the elder disciples, whose duty it is to instruct,
admonish, and direct them. The commission
of our Lord, then, does bj ne means exclude
infants from the rite of baptism. Indeed, it
appears to ns that it would have been pre-
sumption in the apostles to refuse it them;
a presumption of which the Jews would have
complained, and resented with the greatest
indignation.
II. Faith, it is said, is an essential requi-
site for baptism ; and as infants cannot exer-
cise faith, they evidently are not proper
subjects for baptism. Certainly this is a
strong aigument, if the premise be good;
but if, as we believe, it is unsound, the ar-
gument must be ngected as worthless.
The verse generally brought forward in
snpport of this opinion is to be found in
Mark xvi. 16: "He that bdieveth and is
baptized shall be saved ; but he that believeth
not shall be damned." Now, for onrselTcs.
we cannot see that this verse intimates in
the least the qualification /or baptism. It
merely implies that those who have fiuth
and have been baptized shall be saved; sod
that those who are deficient of faith, though
they may be baptized, shall be condemned.
That is the fact which it enunciates, and an
important one it is, but it gives not the
remotest intinuition of the neoeuity of hxth
previous to baptism. The apostles were
commanded to go and preach tlie gospel to
every creature. And the gospel was, that
all who believed on Jesus Christ, and were
baptized, should be saved; and at the same
time, they were to proclaim that those
who refused to believe would be condemned.
Now, what does that show in respect to the
point at issue? Does it indicate the necessity
of faith prior to baptism? By no means.
It merely shows the necessity of fiuth snd
baptism to all those who are capable of
believing — ^to those of mature understanding,
who can comprehend the truths relating to
their salvation — before they can entertain
any hopes of salvation. It is but reaaosuble.
however, that those who are capable of ua-
derstanding the design of the rite of baptisn
should be required to make a proTessian of
faith, whether they possess it or not, previous
to its being appli^ to them ; for the import
of the rite demands it. It would be foUy to
baptize a man of mature age who disbelieved
Christ to be the Messiah — ^who would oo:
promise to renounce his evil ways, and c«e-
secrate his life to the glory of God. Bat
this requirement of mature age does 9«x
rest upon infants now, more than it dii
under the Jewish dispensation. Prosdyta
were required to make a professioo under
that economy; hot it did not extend to
infanta, nor preclude them firom beini; ba^
tixed and cireumcised. So that we find the
same necessity for faith in adults under Uih
dispensations. But as this ncoeaaity fur
faith did not formeriy preeluds the in&ats
of proselytes from being baptised, nathrr
does it now.
Again. Faith evidently is no more fi^
oessary for the baptism cf infiuits tiian f*
their salvation. Andif fiuthisnoCncceassiy
IN HABMOIfY WITH THE SCRIPTURES?
417
for their salvation, and " Annette " and
J. W. W. believe that it is not, mnch less is
it necessary for their baptism. If the lack
of faith does not prevent then^ being saved,
much less should it prevent them being
baptized. On this point Leonard Woods
has a fei7 veiy pertinent remarks: —
*' If anj one still thinks," says he, " that
Christ's requiring men to believe and be
baptized, implies that infants are not to be
baptized because they cannot believe, I
would ask him vrhether the same mode of
interpreting scripture would not debar in-
fimts from salvation? * He that believeth
shall be saved, and he that believeth not
shall be condemned,' is the grand principle
of the New Testament. Faith is required
in order to salvation, as much certainly as
in order to haptigm. And this requisition
famishes as much reason for- excluding in-
fiuits from salvation, as for excluding them
from baptism. But all Christians are united
in holding that the requisition of faith in
order to salvation cannot be applied to chil-
dem. And to be consistent, they must hold
that the requisition of faith in order to hap-
ii$m cannot be applied to children. The
requisition most evidently has as much to do
with salvation as with baptism. The two
cases, then, are alike. Christ requires men
to believe, in order to be saved. But when
be requires this, he does not eay that infants
are eaxluded Jrom salvation, because thef/
ecmnot believe. So he requires faith in order
to baptism. But he does not say, that in-
fants are excluded from baptism, because
they cannot believe. Thus, so far as the
requisition of faith is concerned, there is no
more propriety in excluding infants from
baptism, than in excluding them from salva-
tion. Now, if we admit that notwithstanding
tiliis requisition of faith infants may be saved;
we must admit, also, that they may be bap-
tized. The requisition of faith, which is
intended solely for adults, proves nothing,
aae way or the other, as to children."
This reasoning cannot be otherwise than
conclusive to every unbiassed mind, as to
the futility of the objection, and indeed the
chief objection, urged by anti-Piedobaptists
against infant bapUsm — that they cannot
believe. Nothing more conclusive can ever
be bad against any objection on any subject.
The fact of thdr not being mentioned expli-
city among thoee who were baptized is no
argument whatever. ** Omission," said Bishop
Watson to Tom Paine, " is no contradiction.'*
And B. S. has already shown its futility.
So that our opponents act inconsistently
with themselves, in not considering infimts
as being excluded from salvation, because of
their lack of faith; while, for tbat reason,
they exclude them from the rite of baptism.
III. Ecclesiastical history has been also
brought forward by our opponents in con-
firmation of their opinions, and " UOuvrier"
refers to it with great pleasure. But we
think that every candid person who has read
the quotations of B. S., and has looked into
the testimony of the Fathers, must unequi-
vocally admit that not only is it not opposed
to infant baptism, but that, on the contrary,
it affords every reason to believe that it was
generally practised in the post-apostolic
churches. True, Tertullian — one of the first
writers on baptism after the apostles — op-
posed its bein^ practised; but his words by
no means imply that it was not customary,
but the contrary. They show that such a
custom was in practice, because he opposes
it; and it is aUo evident that it was not a
recent innovation, or he would have referred
to it as such. He was, individually, opposed
to it, but with that we have nothing to do;
the practice of the church is our criterion.
His opinions on most things were very pecu-
liar. He was equally, and for the same
reasons, opposed to the baptism of unmarried
persons as he was opposed to the baptism of
Infants; and if we rely on his opinion in
the one instance, we ought also in the other.
In the quotation of " L*Ouvrier" from Ha-
genbach, where he states the words of Ter-
tullian, we regret to recognise the fact that
he has there again " laid himself open to a
charge of suppressio vet% in a case where
the suppressed truth tells so directly agunst
his own cause." In place of the omission
dots, the following important remarks ought
to have appeared : *' It is for a reason of no
less importance that unmarried persons, both
those who were never married, and those
who have been deprived of their partners,
should, on account of their exposure to
temptation, be kept waiting UU they axe
either married, or confirmed in a habit of
chaste single life." Had *' L'Ouvrier" ad-
mitted these remarks in their proper place,
it would have been immediately peronved
by every reader, that Tertnllian's zeal against
2 K
418
IS THK BAPTISU OF UIFA9TS A PRACTICB
infiint IwptiMii was no proof agaiiut its
apostolic origin, as he was equallj zealoos,
and "for a reason of no ht$ importance/'
against the baptism of grown-up persons,
unless they were married.
It is nnnecenary for ns to animadTert
farther under this dirision; and B. S. has
already quoted, briefly and succinctly, suffi-
cient authorities to prove infant baptism to
he a practice of the primitiTe churches.
And what else is needed? J. M. P. mfty
deride our predilection for the Fathers ; but
our argument remains the same. We do
not ground our conclu»ion on their testimony,
hut we consider it corroborative.
IV. It has also been argued, that as cir-
cumcision and baptism coexisted prior to the
institution of the latter by John the Baptist
and our Saviour, that it could not be a sub-
stitute for the former; and therefore from
infant circumcision no argument can be
drawn in favour of infant baptism. The
weakness, however, of such reasoning must
be apparent to every reader; and we may
remark that the grounds of it have but
recently been introduced Into the arguments
of our opponents. Not long since, they de-
precated the idea of baptism being practised
on proselytes to the Jewish religion. Dr.
Gill stoutly opposed it, as it afforded so for-
cible an argument in favour of infant bap-
tism. He was folly aware that if it could
he proved that " the origin of baptism is far
anterior to the time of our Saviour and his
precursor John" — ^" that inmediately before
the coming of John the Baptist, it became a
general rule to circumcise and baptize all
proselytes to the Jewish faith," and even
their children, as B. S. has shown from "the
Targum and other Jewish rabbis" — ^it would
be snbverbive of exclusive adult baptism,
and would substantiate one of our strongest
arguments. But now, since our opponents
cannot dispute thefact, they turn round and
confess that such a practice did exist ; but
with that confession they adduce a new argu-
ment, and say that as both rites — circumcision
and baptism — coexisted, that the latter could
not be a substitute for the former. Now, if
baptism under the present dispensation is
significant of the same things as circum-
cision under the Jewish, it matters little
that they both coexisted, for it is in their
import that their importance lies. We find
that baptism signifleB the very same thing
I now as circumcision did then, with the excep-
tion of that which was local; and that excep-
tion is not to be taken into account wbea
the rite was implied to proselytes, for it wu
not the seal of the same temporal blessiogt
to them as to the Jews. Whatever was
implied in curcumcisioa to proselytes is also
implied in baptism; and what was implied
in baptism under the Jewish dispensation is
implied now. ** Spiritually,** says Annette^
' the former " was emblematical ii a putting
off the sins of the flesh." So also is baptism.
The former was the seal of a consecratkm to
God. So also is baptism. The farmer was
the seal of spiritual and temporal blenings,
if the circumcised would conform to the laws
of the Lord. So also ia baptism. "Cir-
cumcision," says Annette again, "was the
symbol of a reception into the Jewish na-
tion, which wa» obtained by birth." So also
baptism is a symbol of a reception into the
Christian church, which is obtained by birth,
as in the case of believers* children. " Bap-
tism," says the same writer, " is a leeeptioQ
into the christian church which ia obtained
by faith." So also was circumcision a recep-
tion into the Jewish church which wa*
obtained by faith, as in the case of adult
proselytes. By these remarks, then, H naust
be evident to every candid reader that cir-
cumcision, under the (Jd dispensatioo, was
spiritually significant of the same blessings as
baptbm is now; and such being the case, is
it not reasonable to believe thi^ baptism is
a substitute for circumcision? Again, as
infants were drcumcised, is it not reaaooable
to believe that infants should be baptixed?
The fact of their coexistenoe b nothii^,
for our Saviour might have commanded
their continued coexistence; and that woqM
not have restricted their continued applicatsoa
to infants. But he thought fit to discen-
tinne the rite of cirenmcision, and to in-
stitute baptism as the only rite of initia-
tion into his chureh, without hinting at ito
restriction or exten&ion from what it was
previously. And as it was previenalj ap-
plied to proselytes and their thUdrit^ so
also must it be scriptural to apply it to pro-
selytes and their children now, and to the
children of all those who befiere in the Loni
Jesus Christ.
V. If infants have a right to the ordmaare
of baptism, tliey have an equal right to the
ordinance of the Lord's supper. This arga-
m HARMOxr wrrn the scbiptubes?
419
ment has a verj plausible appearance. It Is
enforced hj J. W. W., who says, " we never
think of administering the communion to
infants." With equal propriety and potency
conid he argue against the right of children
to circumcision, for they had an equal right
to the passover, with the exception of not
being commanded to eat it; still we never
heud that infants partook of the passover.
The inference J. W. W. wishes us to deduce
firom his argument undoubtedly is, that
infants have no right to baptimn; but by
the same logic he must conclude that infants
had DO right to circumcision. But supposing
it be granted that infants had a right to the
Lord's supper, there are reasons manifest to
every roan of sense why it is not adminis-
tered to them. In the Lord's supper, unless
the mind communes with Christ through
the emblems, the ordinance will be useless —
nay, sinful, and fall short of answering its
great and important design; and for these
reasons we refrain from administering it to
infiuDts. Not so baptism. Communion with
Christ is not required in that ordinance, as
it is merely the initiative rite into the chris-
tian church, and signifies that " those to
whom it is applied are the subjects of moral
pdlntion, and need that spiritual cleansing,
or purification from sin, which is effected
through the Holy Spirit by the blood of
Christ"
" Annette** asks us to " prove what benefit
it confers upon the children," and then she
vvill yield. And as her yielding depends on
that point only, it would be unpardonable to
leave her request uncomplied with. We
inaj mention, that it gives them the benefit
of church membership — a benefit that cannot
he too highly estimated. Some of the pur-
poses of infant church memberhhip we noticed
in our opening article; and we state them
again h^re, and ask " Annette" if they are
not of inappreciable worth? — Ist. They are
consecrated from infancy to the work of
God. 2nd. They are instructed in the laws
of their religion. 3rd. The principles of true
lefigion are instilled into their minds. 4th.
The interests and care of the church are
secored for them. Can greater benefits than
these be conferred on infancy, childhood, and
youth?
Our task is now done, so far as replying
to the arguments of our opponents; what
has been our success our readers are to
judge. We have not evaded, to the best of
our belief, anything of consequence that fa-
vours the belief of anti-P»dobaptists. And
now, having attempted to refute their opinion
in as candid and impartial a manner as
truth would allow, we shall, in conclusion,
present a summary of the arguments bj
which the baptism of the infants of believers
is supported : —
1. As they are members of the church,
they should be introduced by the initiatory
rite.
2. The commission of our Lord fairly com-
prehends them.
3. The disciples could not do otherwise
than so understand the commission.
4. The example of John's baptism, which
was identical with the christian rite.
5. The teaching and practioe of the apos-
tles.
6. The doctrinaV allusions of the episties.
7. The testimony of the Fathers.
8. The nature and design of the rite is
not incompatible with its application to in-
fants.
9. Inferences may be drawn from the ge-
neral tenor of scripture in favour of infant
baptism.
10. Baptism is the substitute of the Mo-
saic rite of circnmc'ision.
11. Although the profession of faith is
necessary as a qualification for adult-bap-
tism, still that qualification does not extend
to infants.
Beader, these are the grounds on which
we entertain Psedobaptist views. For evi-
dence in their support we refer you to the
articles in which they are advanced. Give
them an impartial perusal, and we shall be
satisfied. We ask no more; and truth will
be satisfied with no less. They differ con-
biderably in potency ; but they are a)l subsi-
diary to the one great truth, that **the
baptism of infants is a practice in harmony
with scripture.'* Glowb.
Antiquity is worthless, except as a parent of experience; that which is virtuous is
alone noble, and there is nothing so illustrious as the dedication of the intellect and the
tJBdCtkaia to the great end of haman improvement and happiness.
420
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, MILTOK OR SHARSrERE ?
^!lilnsn|iljif.
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, MILTON OR SHAKSPERE ?
SHAKSPEBE.— ARTICLE IT.
Mah is a miniature representation of the
nniyerse — ^a more or less perfect embodiment
and expression of every law and inflaence
existing in nature. Bodily, he is the image
of nature; spiritoaUy, the image of God.
By God we understand the illimitable, un-
changeable^essenoe; the pervading soul of all
being, the unseen and eternal. By nature,
a transitory and partial expression of the
divine ideal. And such is man. Essentially
he is the immortal, immutable ofipring of
the Eternal; outwardly he is a shadowy
being, involved in inexplicable mystery, —
coming from, and going to, the Unknown.
It is this analogy existing between man
and extern&l nature which explains the inti-
mate sympathy existing between them. No
part of God's universe is strange to the heart
of man. Wherever he may be, or gaze, he
recognises relationship. He comes forth at
night and looks on the stars, and his im-
mortal heart within him is stirred. They
become to him an unutterable revelation, —
founts of ineffable mystery, and glorious
symbols of his own eternity. Deep calls
unto deep; and this wondrous universe,
apparently so diverse and wide-scattered, is
seen to be one at heart.
This acting of the beautiful and sublime
in nature upon the susceptibility of the
human soul constitutes poetry. The degree
of susceptibility to these divine influences is
the true measure of a man's poetic stature.
But he it is who, by means of expression, is
the most successful in turning the tide of his
emotions upon the hearts of his fellows, who
is judged by them to be the greatest poet.
Another and greater attribute of mind —
which, owing to its intimate connexion with
poetry, it wiU be expedient to take account
of in the present discussion — ^is, "adversity's
sweet milk, — ^philosophy." As poetry is
re6ned and spiritual sensibility, so philosophy
is mental or spiritual power. This is the
lordly attribute of mind going forth in quest
of wisdom, and by its aid gaining ascendancy
over the advene circumstances of life, — a
power whereby the soul emancipates itself
from the slavery of sensual existence, s&d
rises in its sjpiritual might to the dominiao
of life supreme. Poetry is the bride of phi-
losophy: philosophy Uie lord of poetiy.
Though apparently distinct, they are intrin-
sically one, as inseparable as cause and eSect.
Thus philosophy invents a tool, or with might
of mind brings down soul-enn(A>Iing doctrines
to the apprehension of man ; but the beauty
or fitness of the tool, and the sablimity of
the doctrines, re-act upon the nund u
poetry.
We shall answer the question fonmng the
present subject of discussion by determining,
from an examination of their works, which
of these illustrious individuals has embodied
therein the preponderating amount of creatii^
and feeling intellect. That MUton is one df
the greatest poets who have appeared on the
stage of human existence is a fact genenlly
admitted. To an intellect highly cultivated,
and richly stored with classic lore, he bss
united a considerable amount of poetic vigour,
and a sublimity of conception bat rarely
exceeded. In ** Paradise Lost" we have the
work of a mind, though not remarkable for
great philosophic insight into nature, yet
peculiarly susceptible of receiving deep iia«
pressions from the grand and suUiine, whether
exhibited in physical or moral nature.
Milton has obtained the materials of las
great work from three principal sources;
these are the Hebrew scriptures, with tbe
epics of Homer and Vicgil; but it is evidoit
that the power of the poem results from the
peculiar moral grandeur, and bold and ad-
venturous spirit, of Milton's age, with the
effect which its imposing martial spectacles,
and the magnanimity of its master spirits,
had upon the poet's mind. Especially is this
seen in his splendid descriptions of the is-
femal army, with their noble leader. We
really should not have thooght that the
author of evil was such a fine fdlow, — thst
his breast was the seat of so much natire
goodness and nobility of sool! What infinite
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, MILTON OR 8HAK8FBRE?
421
pitj we feel when we read of the thunder-
scars intrenched on his face, and the care
sitting on his faded cheeks, under brows of
dannUess courage, and of the irrepressible
tears of compassion which he sheds over the
ruin of his faithful and devoted followers.
Milton's Satan commands in us more sym-
pathy and admiration than his Supreme
Being. He has invested the Deity with a
pomp of words; but with little that can
toach the heart, or evoke therefrom the
emotions of awe, worship, and love. We
cannot recognise this God of Milton's rhetoric
as the Father of our spirits, as one with
Him who sits enthroned in nature, and whose
tender mercies are over all his works : —
' ** Whose thunder rend* the clouded air ;
Who in the heaven ofheavena hast fix'd his throne,
Supreme of gods ! unbounded and alone !"
Milton, in conceiving this poem, aimed at
making it the greatest production of human
istellect Homer and Virgil had based their
creations on earthly scenes and incidents,
and sang of human exploits, investing them
with the light and spirituality which hea-
thenism co^d a£ford. But the fabric of his
creations should be on a grander scale ; his
theme should be divine, his theatre heaven,
his heroes angels; while the sublimity and
inspiration thereof should result from the
superior splendour of christian truth. But
this ambition, and these advantages, only
serve to make the inferiority of his genius
the more conspicuous : for, while Homer and
Yirgil have arrayed the popular beliefs of
their times with a profusion of intellectual
life and ideal beauty, and in imaginative
might have soared superior thereto, Milton
has failed to do justice to his theme. Ilu
Christianity is inferior in spiritual power to
Homer's heathenism; and his attempted
expositions of moral and religious truth
totally unworthy of the source from which
they are professedly derived.
"This incapacity of Milton is to be traced
primarily to the comparative deadness of the
philosophic or truth- elucidating faculty, to
a non-recognition of the deep moral signifi-
cance of the scripture narratives, and a con-
sequent dwelling on the literal and super-
ficial,— ^a failing in him evidently destructive
to spiritual power, productive of moral in-
congruities, and necessitating a resort to
meretricious artifice to supply his want of
natorep Analogous to this is much that is
indicative of a want of faith in the oneness
of virtue. Milton, as a great poet, shonld
have known, that for anght of nobility,
majesty, or faith, to be at variance with the
Supreme, is as impossible as for the Godhead
to annihilate his own existence.
If a man would be a great poet, — a me-
diator between heaven and earUi, — he most
not look upon truth as she is distorted in the
wave of conventional faiths and opinions; he
must ascend the mountain-tops of intellect,
and from thence gaze on her unclouded
aspect, as in the immutability of her loveli-
ness she reigns in lofty supremacy over the
weak apprehension and unstable theologies
of human society. For what is poetry, but
the blushing forth of transcendant truth and
beauty? And who is a great poet, but the
man whose gaze is greatly fixed thereon?
Milton, unfortunately, did not thus look upon
truth. His great work, — ostensibly a vin-
dication of ^e ways of God to man,— is,
virtually, but an exposition of the crude
Christianity of his time.
Shakspere, unlike Milton, was but spar-
ingly instructed in the ordinary branches of
human learning; but, while his intellectual
fare was simple, it was the more sublime.
The stream of his intellect flowed but in one
channel. It rolled at once deep, pellucid,
and many-voiced, within the beautified and
enlarged boundaries of his native tongue.
His book was Nature, and he her earnest
student. Deeply did he imbibe her living
lore. His soul was transfused with her
beauty, and his heart tuned in unison with
the harmony evolved from her workings.
He had an ear for the wild melody of her
winds and waves, and the more exquisite
music of her spheres :—
" Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold :
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims :
Such harmon]|r is in immortal souls ;
But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it"
Thus it was his at times, priest-like, to
pierce beyond her outer sanctuary, and to
bring from the shrine of the invisible the
oracles of eternal Truth.
Milton wrote in accordance with his own
premeditated design. Shakspere's art hiy in
givmg appropriate expression to the thoughts
which welled up irresistibly within him. In
422
WHICH WAS THE OBEATB8T POST, MILTOV OB 8HAKSPKBB?
their utterance his own will was evidentlj
orerwhelmed beneath the tides of emotion
which rolled itoai a profoonder sonrce.
Hilton wrote as he moved to write; Shak-
spere, as he was moved. Sliakspere makes
earth the pedestal of his thought, but
builds thereon a superstructure whose loftj
towers penetrate to the veritable heavens.
Not so Milton*s celestial empire, bounded bj
a wall; but the heavens of incorruptible
ezistencei embracing the roots of nature, and
expanding through all infinity of life. Shak-
spere's heaven is not a locality, but a state of
pare, insuperable being.
Sbakspere, both as philosopher and poet,
stands unrivalled among the literary cele-
brities of all climes and ages. His philo-
sophical supremacy is evinced by the pene^
trating glance sent by his intellect into all
departments of nature, — ^by the stupendous
spirit-stirring truths which he from thence
elicits, and the strength of mind with which
he grapples with the problems of life. His
acquired position upon the pinnacle of poetic
fame results from the exquisite sensibility of
his sjArit to the internal harmonies of nature,
jmd the expressive body of words through
which he pours the music of his soul upon
the hearts of others. Shakspere, among
poets, is preeminent for naked, unmytho-
logical truthfulness, pure unsophisticated
nature, strength and comprehensiveness of
intellect, and picturesque grandeur and force
«f language.
We had collected a number of extracts
from Shakspere's writings to illustrate this
and other punts, but space forbids their in-
sertion; we must, therefore, refer the reader
to his works themselves.
The observant reader will perceive that in
Shakspere*s writings there is an element of
pure religious sublimity springing forth un-
contaminated from the fountain of his heart
As we read we become conscious of a resist-
less tendency, drifting us as by an under-
current from the quicksands of time into the
deep waters of eternity. A light dawns
upon our seals ** above the brightness of the
Bun,** blinding them to the illuaiins of sensual
perception, and arousing them to a conscious-
ness of the realities of the spiritual. Shak-
spere's religion is where it ought to be — deep
in his heart. It presides m the centre of his
being, and becomes the animating spirit of
his works. It is a gem which he values not
for display, but for its own intrinsic worth.
He has no vicious desire of being thought
religious; it is enough for him that he be so.
He is so wise, that it beoimies to him a
matter of indifference though he be esteemed
a fool; so great, that he sees nothing in the
phantom-worlds of time and human ojnnions
which he should either desire or fear.
An argument brought forward by the sup-
porters of the opposite side of the questko in
defence of Milton's superiority, as contrasted
with Shakspere, is founded upon the assump-
tion of Milton's greater purity. If thdr
{Mremises be admitted, their inference most
be also; for true purity and true greatness
are identical. But to us it appears thsi
Shakspere far exceeds Milton in the parity
of his spirit and intellect There may, pos-
sibly, be darker spots in the sun than thers
are in the moon; but we should by no means
thence infer that the moon ii the more glo-
rious body. Shakspere has, doubtless, dived
deeper than Milton into the gross gulf of sa
and sensuality ; but he has idao equally oat-
soared him in the regions of transcendent
moral and religions parity; and, so pndoos
is the transcendent to the mounting spirit d
man, that a ray of divinity can mere thu
atone for worlds of sin. Wera there iny
validity in the argument referred to, it wooU
prove vastly too much. Is Milton*s pro-
duction superior to God's boundless nnivene,
because the sin and sensuality which msj
be found in a single worid theneof immesssr-
ably transcend aught of the kind to be met
with in " Paradise Lost?" Is man inferior
to all other terrestrial animals because 1m
knows more of sin and evil? Or shall we
measure the relative magnitude of tk
planets by the comparative sise of their
respective animalcules?
Another weapon with which our valsaat
opponents attempt to defend tfadr inseenre
position is, the greatness of the aufajedsof
which Milton treats. This argnmoit, though
apparently weighty, will be found, upon
closer inspection, to be exceedingly faoQeir.
Both reason and experience teach ns thst s
man's greatness as a writer is maniftiAed,
not by the subject upon which he writes,
but rather by writing greatly upon any sob-
ject If " L'Ouvriei^ can convince us thst
there is any truth in his surisnsing asMrtko,
that Milton's ^ poem compniieods all that is
great in heaven, earth, and hell,'* then we irill
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, MILTON OR 8HAR8PSHB ?
4S3
admit that ^ greatness greater than this" is
impossible. But we hope and trust he is
mistaken, else what a lie were Nat are ! How
▼ain the groanings and labourings of crea-
tion! How hopeless the yearnings of the
immortal spirit! And what a delusion —
God ! " 4n\(iKrj9Tig^ has, in the former part
of his article, some remarks about the absence
of a standard bj which to measure the merits
of Milton ; " for (says he) we do not know
the grand beauties, the ecstatic joys of hea-
ven— the dark horrors, the deep-seated
despairs of hell. ... We are left to judge of
these things by our own nnaided imagina-
tion." And again : — " * Paradise Lost/ that
noble work, which has made Milton what be
is, treats of things unknown," &c. Granting
that we know nothing of the joys of heaven,
ScCf it by no means follows that we have no
standard by which to judge of Milton's work.
Before coming to such a conclusion, our
friend should have proved, not only that
Milton's subject transcended human know-
ledge, but likewise that Milton's faculties
and method of treating his subject were
auperhuman, — that Milton's descriptions of
heaven and hell were worthy representations
of those states which it hath not entered
into the heart of man to conceive. So far is
it from being true that we have no standard
by which to judge of the merits of Milton,
that, on the contrary, every human being,
whether he be conscious of it or not, has a
standard of excellence within him infinitely
surpassing any actual or possible production
of human genius. Could we but fully em-
body in creation the ideal of excellence we
possess, how easily we might dispense with
Homer, Plato, Shakspere, Milton! If these
names are dear to us, it is because they hare
conveyed human language a degree nearer
to the expression of the unutterable — the
heaven — the God I— enshrined within us.
Is not all that is great in ^ Paradise Lost**
the fruit of Milton's imagination? Why,
then, we would ask, may not our imagina-
tion be competent to judge of that which
Milton's has produced?
Shakspere, being dead, yet speaketh, —
speaketh home to the heart and dignified
intellect of man, in language commanding
reverential wonder and attention by the im-
petus of its thought. His language is more
than English, — it is universal ; its characters
being the grand elements and features of
nature, whose " line is gone out through all
the earth, and their words to the end of the
world." A vast reflection of the departed
Shakspere yet floods with its radiance the
philosophy, literature, and labouring intellects
of these subsequent times. On these dark
coasts of Time, with the pencil of his lucid
thought, he has traced for himself the ever-
lasting memento of an indelible renown.
Shakspere, in the realms of intellect, is a
fixed star — a light-yielding orb; Milton a
planetary body, grand indeed, but with bor-
rowed beams. While we are so near to
Milton in age, country, and peculiarity of
opinion, he rises on our contracted sight as
the rival of Shakspere; but when, in the
vastness of Ume, he has become obscured to
human view, Shakspere shall remain in the
fixedness of his glory, sublime and great,
amid the constellations of genius and the
expositors of nature. Cosmopolite.
MILTON.— ARTICLE IV.
It is natural to hesitate upon nearing
greatness. We do not tread the precincts
of a cathedral with that unflagging assurance
with which we have passed fabric after fabric
of minor build and history; nor would it
scarcely be possible for us to enter a pyramid
with the haste allowable upon ordinary
thresholds. Books diffier as well as buildings ;
and these and their authors have amongst
them, in its most enlarged sense, the dis-
tinction which gives to some of them great-
ness, and with such greatness does the reverent
hearing of man in general become a matter of i
necessity. Bustle is, of all things, the least [
likely to be tolerated by Nature in the pre-
sence of her nobles.
The indisposition already expressed in
this debate to enter upon a comparison ot
the two great poets, and so to unhallow, as
it were, their works by free criticism, must
be a feeling common to all who take part in
this or any other like discussion. Could we
fancy an exception, we might give him credit
for a degree of competence beyond that pos-
sessed by any of his predecessors, though
with these are numbered names themselves
venerated by all of us; but it would be a
competence which, in its turn, would be
424
WHXGB WAS THE ORKATSST POET, 3IILT0V OR 8HAKSPKBB?
judged hj the opinion of 8«nsib1e men, and,
we fear, be pronounced to differ from the
fnliNSS of true genios, which may at times
giTe anthoritj and freedom to the critic^s
pen, even when employed npon the highest
prodnctions of intellect. And, not only
would the exception be ofTensive to those
whose talents and cultivation have fitted
them best to appreciate, but also to the world
at large, which, in the exercise of natural
discrimination alone, has taken Milton and
Shakspere under its especial charge, and
would guard their fame from undue fami-
liarity with even less of ceremony than the
former. Such unity cannot be the result of
a mistaken reverence, since superstition is
never universal. It evidences that the living;
power of truth, of love, and of beauty, which
to man is a mysterious but sweet influence,
operating in dose communion witlijiimself
and all things, is identical with that gone
forth from Milton and Shakspere, and which
had an utterance by them with a fulness
unattainable by others ; and for this reason,
reaching the very heart of humanity, it has
been recognised, responded to, and then
treasured up by every man within whose
observation it has come, as if the issue of
his own emotions. Not that every one
thinks alike of Milton, or of Shakspere; or
combines them to make a grand total; or
imagines that each balances the other.
There are degrees qf enthusiasm, and there
is partisanship; and in some cases, — we hope
but few, — there is a doubt as to whether
poets are, after all, of so much value in the
world as they are held to be. But we never
estimate poets by their opinions on matters
of common disagreement. A man may, in-
deed — ^but with no better effect than just
paying a decent compliment to theology, to
the dictum of coterie, or to his own views of
what things ate, or onght to be — ^meet one
sentiment after another with an anathema;
but, having discharged this duty, it is his
nature to seek repose as his heart would
have him. True to himself, his sympathies
revert to the poet. The social yearnings in
this particular, as in those of their operations
m<n:e sensibly dear to us, are not ruled by
the circumstance of opinion, but by the law
of necessity, or by some ordinance which we
have no will to disobey. We love, for we
cannot help loving; but, so far from our love
b«ing of a sopentitious kind, it is just a
reciprocation of kindred emotion, whose ex>
cellence consists in intelligibility and wo-
plicity. Poetry has no notion of the powen
which systems have resorted to to gsin
influence over mankind. She does nob
speak in oracles, all things being of eqoal
preciousness to her; she does not seek for
some the veneration paid to relics; nor an
there spedal circumstances in her mission
calling for a counterfeiting of miracles. AH
mystery, in the sense of designed conceal-
ment, she is a stranger to. Her priests, as
we sometimes term them, take us by the
hand, and, liAing the veil of mysterioossess,
deem their ministry most successful whca
most they can discern in us the simple trust
which they hare been taught from first hsnd
to exercise themselves. It b thus that oar
souls have been knit to Milton and Shakspere.
They in us, and we in them, perfectly sincere
and intelligibly to each other, and the wiiole
universe of things and thoughts in fellowship,
give sufficient evidence of the genuine grronds
of our love, and with it the reverence which
a consdousness of supoiori^ in the object
always adds to our affections.
If, then, our reverence be not supexstiticxi,
and it be allowed as inferrible ther^ran that
the greatness of the two poets is a fact which
our nature recognises, and that, therefore,
the impropriety of the thing, which woold
be alleged by sodety were it asked to estab-
lish this point by critidsm, would be really
just, because critidsm were unnecessary, ve
think we may be spared all that distnrbaooe
of feeling which, for arguments sake, we had
anticipated as the experience of every ooe
when about to criticise the works of gnax
men in order to make a comparison. If our
hearts are admitted witnesses to the exiatenoe
of greatness, it becomes dear that we sie
dealing with a matter so intinoatdy eoo-
nected in its operations with human nature,
that a proper criterion to judge of the mib
of greatness (which must be arrived at befon
a preponderance can be determined) will be
the fidelity to purpose with which such ope-
rations have been fulfilled. We here premise
that the poet is the teacher of men, soi
that, as such, the moral bdng, which he hss
asserted to be '* the proper study,** has beeo
peculiarly the object of his investigatioDS, t»
the end that the Muse may shape her re-
sources into the most sniti^e form of in-
struction. Now, it appears to oa that the
WHICH WAS THE OEEATBBT POST, MILTOir OB 8HAK«PBBB ?
42i
mode of procedure we have proposed is the
onlj method at all calculated to insure a
satisfactory xesuli. We want an arena for
every combat, — some common ground of
mutual acknowledgment, which shall not be
called in question heresfter, and whereon
there shall be an actual meeting of parties.
This ground we shall secure here; but criti-
cism does not afford it; to say noUiing of the
immense difficulty, amounting with most of
US to an impossibility, of taking a method
requiring (if the process is to be in any way
worthy of so dignified a subject) not only
the closest intimacy with the works of the
two poets, but also a power which suggests
itself to us as similar to that which would
be required to set two giants in juxtaposition,
and compel their respective performances.
Leaving our inadequacies in these respects
out of the question, the main objection still
remains. How shall we ensure a criterion?
What shall bo our gauge of merit? When
«Tery admirer has exercised his taste in the
competition — every professional his taste;
when every play and poem has had its excel-
lencies displayed, and while either side is
ready with a chaplet wherewith to crown its
chief, who shall reduce rivalry to agreement,
and bring the claims to a legal standard for
trial? Here is one who, with all the pride
of nationality and classic dbtinction, believes
that his native tongue was never wrought
into so rich an attire, or enfolded so beau-
teous a form of life, as when spoken by
Shakspere; another, whose belief has an
equal amount of loyalty and correct taste to
support it, holds the same of Milton. One
loves to linger among the bowers of Eden,
and to pay his tribute to grace and gentle-
ness where their fair embodiment, revealed
in loveliness incarnate, reposes on beds of
roses; while the wild fancies of another are
mingling with the wilder orgies of witches,
who in their ^ark retreats are constraining
the fstes to declare the destinies of men.
How shall the two be persuaded to concord
and companionship? When each casket is
filled with gems of countless value, in them-
selves considered, without reference to their
nse, who shall declare the agio between
them? It is clear that no condnsion can be
thus arrived at. But, if we will surrender
our partialities for the honour of truth ; and,
in strict accordance with our confessed con-
victions, allow that service shall be the test
of value, we bring our cause to established
canonical auth(nity« which, though it dis-
poses of the jurisdiction of taste, will not
annihilate taste, nor prejudice it, as the
sweet witching possession held by each one
of us of his own right, and which authority
will secure what we all profess to seek,— -a
disinterested verdict.
The question then comes. Which, as a poet,
ministered most to the interests of humanity,
Milton or Shakspere? Which, having taught
it its vast wants, supplied most of food and
motive for the great attainment, with thought
and hope of conquest, as well as expectation
of strife and battle? Which, penetrating
the depths of the human heart, and tracing
there how mistakes and misery, self-prefer-
ment aud degradation, fancied joys and bitter
reflections, succeeded oftimes by despair and
ruin, are inseparably united, and form but
one labyrinth, though the connecting avenues
are dark and hidden from the general gaze,
has also seen and shown that this is not the
whole of life, but that there are points of
egress and escape, — paths leading out of the
same nature (and therefore within the pro-
vince of the poet, even if he were not to be
held as a teacher), and which, like the old
chartered highways we tread daily, are un-
exclnsively free, and, like them, are directed
to the best advantage. Which, in short, not
only showed what man w, but also what he
might 6e, unless our boasted freedom is to
be taken as having no existence in £[u;t?
That Shakspere knew human hearts, as far
as we can conceive it possible tor our fellow-
man to be acquunted with them ; and that|
combined with this knowledge, there was
commensurate ability to pourtray their divers
manifestations, is the very foundation and
fact of his greatness. As we have seen, it
is because "he has told us all things that
ever we did"* that we have yielded without
deshre of resistance. And that hfe asiti^f
with all its seeming terrible anomalies,—
might making right its prey, and vice de-
flowering virtue, — the consciences of men
acknowledging eternal laws, and at the same
time their passions bent upon gratification, —
needs to be known, either from experience or
from its truthful pourtrayal, before a starting-
point shall be gained for a more exalted
state of being. We see ia it a necessary and
proper material for a teacher's use. It is,
therefore, with no pious horror we view the
426
\nUCB WAS THE QRKJLTEgt POST, MILTON OB BHAKSPXRB?
erMtions of Shukspera, — ^tbeir chancten,
liiBtories, ftod, it may be, their follies, detailed
either without ezpreesion of diBapprobation,
or 80 doubtfully ceusarad as to girt little
direct adrantage to morality. Oar belief
being that human nature, if progreasiTe at
all, must taste more or less of the disappoint-
ment which forbidden sources afford, — that,
to riff, it must first have some sense of
degradation, — ^we recognise so fiir in Shak-
gpere a good teacher of mankind, however
disfaTourably the admission may be viewed
by many excellent persons. But here his
work ceases. Beyond life, just as he found
it, he had nothing to study, nor to recom-
mend to the solemn consideration of his fel-
low-men. And herein lies the fatal charm
that Shakspere exercises over us, that,
dazzled by the splendid equipage which he
has lavished on this life, we prefer to be at
ease amidst such luxury to the exercise of
hope and determination towards things as
jet unseen. It is thus that E. W. S. and
^Excelsior," feeling that Shakspere has
halted on the journey, and unwilling to sever
themselves from his company, are lej even
to acquiesce in the position, and to make it
the citadel of their argument. '* Shakspere
(says £. W. S.) studies man; and, finding
his whole being assodated with moral evil,
he struggles with the terrible fact with a
power superhuman and almost divine; and,
though he finds not a solution to the dread
mystery. . . . ." " Excelsior" says: — ^** Our
question refers to no other greatness than
that of the poet. We are not to determine
which was the greatest man, but which was
the greatest poet Waiving all considerations
of utility, however important; of moral in-
tention, however sacxed; and, indeed, of
everything extraneous to ' the poet,' we are
required to give precedence to an abstract
quality." What is the greatness of the poet,
then? Are we to understand that it is his
prerogative to exist as an abstraction — to do
no service, and yet deserve homage, in a
world where ability and neediness have made
reciprocity a law, entailing the greatest obli-
gations upon the greatest gifts? Why, it is
an exemption which, in ** its abstract quality,"
your own Shakspere would repudiate with all
the discernment of a nnan alive to his own
honour. E. W. S. concludes the sentence we
have partly quoted thus: — ''He shows us
by the radiance of his genini how true the
assuranoe of a higher revelation is — that
what we know not now we shall know here-
after." We would, we think, aUow more real
value to Shakspere*s claim than either of oar
friends E.W. & and "Excelsior." To say
that his genius is evidence of something that
it is in man*s power to strive f<H- (which ve
suppose is the meaning of E.W. Sl; for a
revelation can be of no use to us unless what
it reveals is to be sought for), is to say very
little indeed for Shakspere^s claim as a teacher
of a higher life; and as a teacher £. W. Ss
with ourselves, holds the poet to be; while
his responsibility to teach something of this
higher life is clearly implied in the fiut of
his adverting to it. Now, over and abore
the advantage which the mere contenplatitB
of Shakspere's gmius would afford us, wv
would set the more direct instruction to be
gained from his many representations of the
existence and supremacy of mond law, and
of the human spirit's neceasitiea for a some>
thing which it cannot as jet lay hold d
The fine language of disappointed ambitioi.
and of soliloquies upon the Tanitiea of this
life and the possibilities of another; the
omnipotence of virtue visible through all
the tortuous and questionable wizulin^
through which Shakspere passes it, most be,
it appears to us, more impressing in their
nature than the dim evidences which hii
genius as a poet, and that viewed ahstnet-
edly, would afford us of a higher revelatke:
and to this extent we allow Shakspere to
have served his race. Tliia, besides bcisg
just to Shakspere, and a thing we are nfned
upon, is really the summing np of hia chuaa.
and is, we think, more to be regarded thss
the considerations of hia ''auapioea* or ht
" supreme fame,'* as relied npcn bj " £sc«l>
sior," because these, if facta, are not what
we should agree upon aa proo& of superiority,
since Time is fickle, and haa not ptigfatei
her favours to one, and applaose ia often less
indicative than cenaure of true desert; sci
because, as neither the ** auspices" nor the
"supreme fame" would exist bfut £ar that
profound acquaintance with human natne
characteristic c( Shakspere, and firem which
we gather his best claim, the di&reooe id
value as data is just that which lies betmes
an original principle and its aecessories, ^
which diffirrenoe we give the advantage U
" Excelsior," as he has not takes it.
Now, if human nature were so constituted
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, MILTOIT OR SHAK8PERE ?
427
«8 to need only a consciousness of its moral
weaknesses, combined with a conviction of
the might and snre policy of yirtne, to ensnre
the pursuit of a better condition, then might
Shakspere be said to hare done all that was
possible for the welfare of mankind, and his
complete and noble manner of doing it might
have favonred his claim to be considered a
greater poet than Milton. Bat this is not
found snificient for the natnre we inherit.
Nothing can be clearer in the records of
human existence — nothing clearer in every-
daj fact — than the necessity of a number of
outward infloences to act upon man, if he is
to be bestirred from his natural suptneness,
and the degradation which accompanies it.
The god whose counsel accomplished the
extrication of the mud-bound wain knew the
whole philosophy of the thing. He knew
the capabilities of man ; he knew also that
precept and hope of success were needed to
«zcite them. So did Milton. Therefore we
have poetry which, while it takes in man in
his lowest condition, anticipates a destiny
for him; and, without dark doubts and sur-
mises as to what that destiny shall be, is
content to know that he has come of the
Father of the universe, and that itself is
among the instrumentalities designed to pre-
pare him for a return. It shows him his
task, awakens hope within him, promises
him aid throughout, and then throws all the
responsibility upon him, as though, in fact,
it was wholly his. We do not, now, endorse j
H ilton*s theology, or say his influences fall
into a perfect system. We think that less
«f severity in the moral government of the
I^ty might have been more just; but this
quality is greatly remedied by the benignant
and tender aspects in which he has placed
the Divine character in other circumstances ;
and, if a defect, is a set-off against the noto-
rious laxities of many of Shakspere's writings,
and which are the images of crimes so bad
as to need, perhaps, the rule of a more rigid
administration than at first sight we should
be disposed to imagine. What we say of
Milton is, that his poetry has in it all those
appliances adapted to the nature of man as
a being capable of progression, but needing
outward stimuli. There is the illusion of
forbidden gratification, and there b the
hideousness of vice contrasted with the
majesty of virtue, drawn with as much
yeracity as in Shakspere's writings, though
it may be with less apparent power, inasmuch
as the subjects are farther removed from our
experience; but these, constituting but an
inferior part of the work — which to be satis-
fied with were to leave the great future a
blank, a void, which the man shrinks from,
though feeling it must be some time encoun-
tered or answered to— every means and
motive is added which long trial has proved
most effective in influencing his nature.
There are the ancient high precepts and
standards which men must assay, though
they should fail to reach; and penalties
annexed to disobedience, and gentle persua-
sions to trial, and promise of sustentation,
and hope enlarging into assurance of con-
quest, and at length the actual reward
betokened by crowns, and palms, and songs
of victory! And is not this poetry? I>o«s
it not '* answer to some demand for it in our
hearts,** and thus commend itself to "Ex-
celsior** as coming within the beautiful defi-
nition he has chosen? Will he brave the
snow, the ice, the avalanche, and death, for
the sake of triumph, and allow no poetry in
it? No. Then he must not sacrifice, as he has
done, "moral purpose,*' "important work,**
" high principles,** at the shrine of " imagi-
nation.** Nor must E. W. S., after demand-
ing of poetry that it shall '* help faith to lay
hold of a fotare life,** release it from obliga-
tiim beyond the delineation of this life. We
cannot, with E. W. S., extract from Shak-
spere's representations of " the condition,
nature, character, powers, passions, virtues,
vices of man, his conflict with the world and
evil powers, his falls and triumphs, hopes
and fears,** mjpcient motive and nutriment
for that full faith and effort which overcome
the world. If we shall be charged with mis-
taking Shakspere, we shall say that E. W. S.
has mistaken Milton, when he says that
"Milton leaves his reader as he finds him;
the mysteries of his nature unsolved, the
inquiries of his agitated spirit unanswered.**
Had we the counselling of such a spirit, we
should, for its best interests, unhesitatingly
prefer, of the two poets, that it sought solace
and strength of Milton; and we crown his
memory with unrivalled honour because that,
estimating his mission above the mere pur-
pose of public amusement or royal entertain-
ment, he has made the undying power and
beauty of poetry our harbingers to " glory,
immortality, and eternal life.** B. W. P.
428
OUGHT THE LAW OF FBDIOOB^irrURB TO BB BBPBALBD?
^nlitirs
OUGHT THE LAW OF PRDfOGEKITURE TO BE BEPEALED?
AFFIKMATIVS ARTICLE.— II.
It b confewedly alwsjrs ahazardoiu under-
taking for A mere civUiAn to ventnre to oppose
a "niAn learned in the Iaw" upon a topic
peculiarly within his own province. And
that your correspondent B. S. is such an one
I hare no doubt. The diffidence, however,
which is naturally excited by this circum-
stance, is very much relieved by a perusal of
the article itself. B. S. has treated the legal
part of the subject in a manner which, in its
results, ought to give entire satisfaction to
all who, like myself, adopt the affirmative
side in this debate. By taking our " law"
from him, we are landed in a position the
most advantageous possible for the advocacy
of our particular views. B. S. battles stoutly
for the reverence due to the law in question,
and deals with this part of his subject with a
shew of legal erudition calculated to make a
plain opponent nervous; but he immediately
shows, in a satisfkctory manner, that the
question of law is of no practical importance;
and insists that primogeniture is practically
but a time-honoured cuatom; and thus dears
the way for deciding the question of its entire
abolition according to the simple and straight-
forward methods of common sense.
The proof of these representations will be
found in the 385th, 386th, and the first part
of the column of the 387th pages, to which
we ask the reader's careful attention. Now,
there are important points involved in the
passages indicated. We are told that B. S.
believes " it woiild be almost impos^ble to
repeal it, without at the same time pro-
viding a substitute for it." That *' it forms
part of the very framework of society;
abolish it, and the whole nation would be
thrown into a state of irretrievable con-
fusion, and reduced to a state bordering
on anarchy :*^and then, that " primogeniture
as a riglit^ can no longer be said to exist; the
owner of an estate, may, at any moment,
destroy the right by making his will:" and
again, " Primogeniture, then, in this country
is only a ctMtom, not a law; is suffered, and
not established.'' Now, wo notice these
points, not to remark upon their obvious
inconsistency, but to show that, according t»
B. S.'b own statement, the law having bees
practicaUjf abolished without any of the
predicted evils having ensued, we are absolrcti
from the necessity of providing a substitute
for it ; and also, that in demanding its estire
and formal abolition we can point to the pest
as an answer to all forebodings of " daogeroos
consequences."
In answer, then, to the question of B. S,
'* Are my opponents prepared to forbid ihe
practice and continuance of this custom f*
we offer a decided affirmative; and, in ordfr
to keep the matter of debate within u
narrow limits as possible, we shall take ss
our grounds of objection two pcMUts bioagli:
forward by B. S., and which he calls ^ tvc
peculiar advantages incident to prirnqgeni-
ture."
" The first of these," according t^B. 5.
" is, that it is absolutely necessary as a meaL>
of maintaining the honours and dignity «f t
titled aristocracy like ouv own, where teni-
torial power and aggnmdisem^it fbmu is
indispensable part of their state." This,
then, is our first objection. Through the
operation of this law, the eldest son inherUs
the whole estate; the younger mem^ d
the family are rendered dependent, and, as s
nuitter of ^ocC, the countiy is burdened vith
a ho^t of noble and titled paupers. This it
is which, more than all other causes ooa«
bined, secures the maintenance of the wickti,
ix^urious, and abominable connexion betvecc
Church and State. Many of our great Ufid-
lords possess the patronage of church living;
and, when that is wanting, the pohdaJ
importance acquired by large territoiiil
possessions is potent in procuring sppoint-
ments from the minister of the day; whieb.
being granted firom political and essentisUj
worldly motives, are seldom bestowed with
any nice regard to ** the fitness of the two
thingy," the nominee and the duty to be dis-
chaiged. It thus frequently happens thai
the holy offices of the ^nrch are pra£ucd by
OUGHT THB LAW OF PRIUOOEITITURE TO BE REPEALED?
429
the miniftrations of unclean hands; that the
" care of souls" becomes a gambling sp9cala-
tion; that a nsefol and sacred profession is
isjored, and degraded in pnblic estimation
br being regarded as a sort of lottery ; and
that the "house of God** is once again well-
nigh become '* a den of thicYes." These evils
are directi j chargeable upon that law, which,
for the crime of not haTiog been all bom at
once, cheats the younger branches of a family
of a natural share of the common inheritance.
Lordly goslings evince the same natural
aptitude for *' picking up** a living as their
feathered counterparts, and it is natural that
a strong instinctive attachment should be
evoked towards that institution which pro-
vides an unstinted supply of both food and
feathers for the large and necessitous class
onder notice.
Upon the same law, and for the same
substantial reasons, we charge the yearly
increasing burden of taxation occasioned by
the yearly increasing expenses connected with
onr armaments. The army in particular is
overrun with lordly parasites. It is for their
sakes that the commissioned ranks are kept
carefolly closed agiunst deserving, if humble
merit. ** The true reason of our estimates
being kept up, is to furnish comfortable,
gentlemanly, and lucrative situations for our
deserving aristocracy. Our standing army
is officend by 5734 gentlemen, men who
spurn an honest trade, or the profession of a
merchant, but who, nevertheless, dabble in
the commission market, for their own aggran-
dizement.** * For the character, professional
qualifications, &c, of these gentlemen soldiers,
the reader is referred to the published opinions
of Sir James Napier, and the Duke of
Wellington. We assure our readers they are
not flattering.
But B. S. proceeds to put in a claim for
merciful consideration on behalf of the aris-
tocracy in general as "an essential and
desirable element of the British constitution.**
Now, what, we ask B. S., is there in the
history or present conduct of our aris-
tocracy to justify us in regarding them as
a *< desirable,** still less an *' essential**
element of the British constitution? Have
they nof been the heartiest and most forward
conservators of every political and social
abuse? Who, as a class, threw the weight
* Finandal Befonn TrseCs, No. 4, p. 56.
of its influence and hatred into the scale
against the unfortunate Queen Caroline?
Who, in the same interest, supported the
vilest of organs, and the vUest of personal
instrumeq^, in a weekly promulgation of the
most heartless, impudent, and detestable
calumnies ? Who offered the most determined
opposition to the progress of the Befonn
Bill? Who brought the country to the
verge of civil war by refusing to concede the
justice of the Catholic chiims? Who
obstinately opposed the sense of the country
upon the question of the repeal of the com
laws? Who now constitute the sole barrier
between the Jews and justice, in connexion
with their entrance into parliament? And,
who, in the pending struggle for further
reform, are instinctively regurided as the only
certain and dangerous obstacle to the realisa-
tion of a desirable re-distribution of political
power ? The English aristocracy a " desirable
element in the British constitution" I It is
an incubus and a curse. It has fastened a
millstone of debt about the neck of honest
indnstxy; and has never ceased from its
endeavours to increase the burden. It is
sickly, sentimental, effeminate, and bigoted;
too weak to dare the hazard of change; too
imbecile to appreciate the reasons which may
render it necessary and desirable. With the
possession of the enormous power for good
which wealth and station confer, what have
they done for suffering humanity or national
progress which should claim a nation's grati-
tude and praise ? And if, therefore, " nothing
would hie a more serious injury to our
* hereditary legislators' than the attempt to
destroy the custom of primogeniture," "this
one fact" will, we conless, weigh with us as
a strong reason " for supporting the'* affirma-
tive *'side of the proposition now under
debate.*'
"The second great advantage of primo-
geniture is, that it checks the minute sub-
division of land." This, as in the former
case, b our reason for opposing it. The
possession of a county by a few great land-
holders— ^here is an instance: "Stretching
from the sea, right across to the verge of the
next county, and embracing great part of
the parish in which I sit, are the estates of
three proprietors, which extend in almost
unbroken masses for upwards of twenty miles.
The residence of one of them is surrounded
with a walled park, ten miles in dicnm-
430
OUGHT THE LAW OF PRDtOOCHTrUIUB TO BB REPBAUCD?
fereoee " * — ^it nnoatarsl, and polittcallj and
socially- injnrioQa. The case of Scotland and
Inland, cited hj B. S., is lamentablj oot of
point The anperiority of Scotch farmers
over the Irish most bb due to somethio^
more potent and national than primogeniture
and large farming, since it so happens, that
in matters of fanning the Scotch are nearly
a century ahead even of the English, amongst
whom both primogeniture and large farming
prevail And B. S. is even more unsuccessful
in his French facts. " In France, the sub-
division of ownership has produced pauperism
and wretchedness, and has been the fruitfal
source of continual convulsion, revolution,
and anarehy. The French peasantry have
become the helots and dependents of the
toims' population." Now, in this passage
evwj statement is an error. The sub~
division of ownership has not produced any
of the e£fects here ascribed to it. The law
oi primogeniture was abolished in France by
the Constituent Assembly of 1789, and if it
has worked so badly, we may hope to find
traces of it in popular French sentiment, and
in the actual present condition of the rural
population. The abolition of the Uw in
question was one of the most characteristic
reforms effected bj the assemblj. Now, the
feeling in France, in favour of the revolution
of 1789, amounts to an enthusiasm, and is
spread through all society, embracing both
extremes. Here are the sentiments of the
higher and cultivated portion. ** Where two
men of such eminent authority (M. Thiers
and Michael Chevalier), but of such opposite
views upon economical principles, agree in
their admiration of a particular policy, it is a
proof that it must have irresistible claims
upon public approbation. Men of the highest
social position in France .... ^mit
that to the measures of 1789, which have
elevated the millions of their countrymen,
from a condition hardly superior to that of
the Russian serf, to the rank of citizens and
proprietors of the soil, France is indebted for
a more rapid advsnoe in civilization, wealth,
and happiness than was ever previously made
bj anj community of a similar extent, in
the same period of time."f And again—
^ This feeling is confined to no class, as the
fallowing extract from a speech by M. Thiers,
•" 1798 and ISM," R. Cobden. p. 43.
+ «17g8indl863,"p.27.
&C., will shew." And again, on psge 43~
** When told that the present Empoor possesses
absolute and irresponsible power, I snswsr
by citing three things which he could not, if
he would, accomplish ;" one of these three
being, "he could not create an hereditary
peerage with estates entailed by law of
primogemture." Now, all this is ooodosiTe
I think, upon the pcnnt, that those most
interested and best able to jadge, are satisfied
with the working of the system; and conse-
quently, to that extent, also conclusive against
the assertion that it has produced **■ pauperism,
wretchedness," &c. In reference to the actosl
present condition of the French peasaatxy,
we shall dismiss it with two short extracts
from competent witnesses. Sir W. Moles-
worth, writing to the SpeekUoTf January 17,
1848, asks this, amongst other questaoos^
" Have you forgotten that they have passed
through a great social revdntion, which has
equalized property, abolished privilege, aad
converted the ma$$ of the people kOo thrifty
and induetnout menf* And Cobdea, in
page 44 of the work already alluded to.
makes this emphatic statement: — ^"I csn
vouch from actnid experience, that the intelli*
gent natives of France, Italy, and oth«r
countries, -where the code Napoleon is ia
force, and where, consequently, the land i»
divided amongst the people, are very much
puzzled to understand how the EngUsh sab-
mit to the feudal cnstems which still find
favour here. Tell the eight milliow (^
landed proprietors in France that they shall
exchange their lot with the English people,
where the labourer who cultivates the farm
has no more proprietary interest in the sxsi
than the horses he drives, and they will be
stricken with horror." We have said suf-
ficient, we trust, to demonstrate the utter
falsity of the chai^ges against the ** sub-
division of ownenhip," and to sfa«w that that
system works well ; and had we space it
would be easy to jMPOve that thia is not ths
case with the oppoeite syston. By way ti
conclusion, however, we commend to the
attention of B. S. the following morsels fran
the Timee of September 16th, in refereBce m
the Buckingham farce. It tells us thai ** the
labourer in misfortune and ag« denrvcs ts
be paid the long arrears Uttt hava bam
mounting up in his favour from the gzea
inadequacy of his wages," and dmomtcs
"this distribution of petty bigeasea* as a
<>:■«. ill' Mil. LAW Ml :-i;TA[- M.! \i rri;i, i " i;r nr.iTAi !• d .-'
1 ", 1
dt'vii tt wliirh >;ilvi s o\\.r "llie I'.-aoiili.i! -Aiut aiiiuuiil ot' ill^lice he rcaliv rci.cives
iniiiuity and cruelty uf our social institu- I from society, and what comparisoa there is
tions." And as a concluding sentence points between the fruits of half a ceutury at the
to the country where primogeniture is un- plough in this coontiy and in the United
known: — "Let some one tell the British , States."
labourer what his opportunities really are;
IUKKB.
NEGATIVE ARTICLE.— II.
The law of primogeniture is one whose
operation dates from remote antiquity. It
cannot be doubted that it has powerfully
affected, either for good or for evil, the con-
dition of Great Britain, and that it is inti>
matrly interwoven with our political consti-
tntion. The question of the abolition of this
law is one requiring, therefore, a grave con-
sideration of the effects which the law has
produced, both political and social, and the
probable consequences which would result,
sooner or later, from removing a law which,
wbatever may have been its origin or its
general efiects, has so long prevailed and
powerfully operated.
At first sight it may appear unjust that
the eldest son should receive the heritable
property of his ancestor. But this injustice
is only apparent. Even if the bestowal thus
of the heritable property should appear an
arbitrary act, thd question must, we think,
be viewed in connexion with a number of
pcditical and social considerations, which
necessarily arise when man is placed in the
circumstances of our highly artificial civiliza-
tion. Educated men are known not to be
influenced merely by those naked truisms of
jnstice or equity which, severed from their
connexion with the necessities of the times,
become delusive though pleas^ant phantoms.
It is idle to maintain that the law of primo-
geniture is unjust or arbitrary in character,
as such an objection might be applied with
much greater force to the whole question of
the right of the present proprietors to the
ownership of the land, — a right which, how-
ever forcibly condemned by the axioms of
democracy, no wise man would attempt to
distutb. The present owners ate in posses-
sion of the land, sod have greatly added to
ite value. It is a matter of public conve-
nience that they should be retained in pos-
session of their property. We think that,
for reasons much the same, neither the
statesman, nor the politician, whose vocation
is, in these days, to instruct him, should
touch in any degree the law of primogeniture.
If he did so he would interfere with that
gradual devidopment, founded on the basis
of our politic.ll constitution, which wise men
agree thankfully to accept as our safe guide
to a yet higher po^>ition of national glory and
pro^tperity, and he wuuld introduce organic
changes which would prove the inevitable
cause of farther change, — change which
would dislocate and convulse society in Eng-
land as surely as the French revolutions
have convulsed it in France, and would throw
back, with the altered condition of England,
the tide of human civilisation it&clf.
There is a prevalent mistake regarding
the nature of the law of primogeniture, which
may be at once dispelled by a simple state-
ment of what the law really is. Many con-
found the law of primogeniture with the law
of entail; but the operation of the latter is
in a large measure dilTerent from that of the
former. Whilst the decisions of the law
courts discourage entails by judging of them
by strict law, and the legislature has passed
various measures for preventing them from
keeping the land unimproved, the law of
primogeniture is and must be regarded as of
a difierent character from the law of entail,
and be carefully maintained as having a deep
foundation in nature, and as essential to the
prosperity of the state. By the law of pri-
mogeniture the heritable owner has the abso-
lute right of disposing of his property. Ue
is not restricted to bequeathing his heritage
to his eldest son. The law simply lays down
that the property shall be disposed of in the
particular manner which it points out —
namely, to the eldest son and his heirs — in
the case only where the owner does not leave
it, by a regular deed, otherwise. It is clear
that the law acts properly in prescribing to
whom a man's heritable property shall belong
after his death, if he has not chosen to leave
a written expression of his will. In directing,
in that c:ise, that the eldest son shall inherit
it, the legislature does what it considers right
4S3
OUOBT THB XAW OF PBOfOOXHITUBB TO BS RSPBALBD?
in itself, and points <mt the general feeling
of the nation. If the law of primogeniture
were not in accordance with the national
will, it could not long exist, as it would not
have that moral support which mainly gives
to the law of the land its efficiencj and its
authority. The law of primogeniture exists
because it is considered as no mere piece of
arbitrary legislation, which modem democracy
might overthrow in order to carry out an
arbitrary empiricism of its own ; but because
it springs from, and is maintained by, the
convictions of the mass of the people, as well
as those of the learned and enlightened.
But, as B. S. has ahready shown, the voice of
public opinion does not control a single indi-
vidual in the disposal of his heritable pro-
perty; it leaves him entirely free. Where a
man, in the exercise of the right which law
bestows on him, does make a settlement at
variance with the law of primogeniture, the
variation is often very slight; there is often
little more than a ratification of the law.
The law gives to a proprietor who fails to
make a settlement an honourable assistance;
it supplies to him the want of a settlement,
with its consequent trouble and expense.
Presuming his intentions from his silence,
the law of primogenituro comes into opera-
tion.
The question is substantially this. Has a
father a moral right to leave his heritable
property to his eldest son alone? This ques-
tion we have little hesitation in answering
in the affirmative. What claim have children
upon a father other than that they may be
maintained in infancy, properly educated,
and placed in the way of supporting them-
selves through life? We reply, they have
none. A younger son, who has been treated
in this manner, has no cause of complaint if,
for satisfactoiy reasons, the heritage is left
to the eldest son. In cases when the grand-
children of a proprietor, or his remoter
descendants, or his collateral relatives, are
in question, the matter is even clearer.
Then is no strong reason why he should be
compelled to divide his heritable property
amongst all the various individuals belonging
to either of these two classes of connexions.
But though the question be simply considered
as this, la it right in the legislature to con-
tinue the law of primogenituro? we are still
disposed to reply in the affirmative.
One of the most comnum objects of am-
bition in this country, and one whidi afioide
a great stimulus to exertion, is the batldinf;
up of an honourable house. For this purpose
the 'individual acquires property in land,
either as the means, or, as is more genersL
as the result of his exertiflii. He giws bis
family a good education, and sets up the
younger branches in a respectable sphere
with his floating capitaL He wbhes that
the lands which he has acquired shoold not
be exposed to frequent division and sub-
division, into insignificant plots, among a
large number of descendants, oontribntui;
little to their advantage, until all trace of
the connexion of his name with the lands
bought by him should disappear. On the
contrary, he desires that these lands should
be preserved, and be a substantial good to
the party who may inherit them. For this
purpose he naturally and properly sdects his
eldest son as the future owner; he who, is
the course of events, would be most able on
his succession to manage the land, and who
would naturally feel pride in mMntaiwing the
dignity and the stability of the family. The
abolition of the law of primogeniture woold
take away from many persons the desire of
acquiring wealth in order to purchase IiimI.
It would prove detrimental to a posoos
ability of working, which ifaoald be encoo-
raged, as by it wealth may not only U
obtained, but the best powers of our natoR
developed.
The law appoints the order of sncccssios
to heritable property, and restricts this order
in the first instance to the eldest son, for the
purpose that land may be preserved in the
hands of such a number of persons as in
capable of its proper cultivation. Whik
the law of prlbogeniture does not fetter tbe
liberty of the subject, or prevent a retf
general change of posseasion in land, it
appean to us to have the tendency vhieh
the legislature desiderates, and of which ve
approve. True; there are cases where ]aif!t
quantities of lud are held by smgie piv-
prietora; but this arises from the lav *4
entail, which we do not now dtAnd, Soch
instances are rare, and they present an evil
slight in comparison with these which wooU
result from the abolitioii of the law of |ri-
mogeniturs.
On the other hand, the law of prisMigcoi-
ture does no injustice to the younger brsodies
of a family. The wealth derivwi from IsBii
OUOHT THE LAW OF PBIMOOBHITUBE TO BE REPEALED?
433
is nfloallj snfficientlj great to afford a pro-
riaioo for them. The noble spheres of mer-
chandise or political employment are opened
up to them, and on them thej may enter
with every advantage which rank, family, or
wealth can bestow. These in their turn
acquire wealth, and also with a natural pas-
won pnrchase land, which othtirwise they
could not do; and in many cases they come
to dispossess the elder members of the family
of their paternal inheritance; while, at the
■ame time, the latter is kept entire, and pre-
aerred, it may be, for many generations.
We maintain also that the present sys-
tem tends, more than the opposite would, to
aecnre an efficient cultivation of the soil.
This is a point of much importance; indeed,
of much more importance than the question
«f the occupation of the land by a large or a
small number of individuals. One or two
French writers, it is true, assert that the
happiness of a people is of greater moment
than a vigorous cultivation of a country,
thus absurdly seeking to bring the two ques-
tions into opposition. It is generally con-
ceded that it is of advantage to the morals
of a community that its agricultural pro<luce
should be plentiful and cheap; and, while it
IB proper to import foreign pro<iuce, it was
not meant to bo assumed that that of our
coantry itself should not contribute largely,
bj the due cultivation of the land, to the
attainment of plenty at low prices. Uearing
people talk against the law of primogeniture,
we might be led to conceive, did we not know
better, that there are few or none deriving
any good from the land. But it is divided
into a number of farms, varying in size,
occapied by a large class of tenant-farmers,
who are generally well educated, and are
men of intelligence. These are possc^tsed of
capital, which they devote entirely to the
improvement of their farms ; and they have,
ibr the most part, a long tenure of occu-
pancy, which enables them to derive the full
benefits of their money and their industry.
The reason why the proprietor does not let
ont his land in small portions obviously is,
that he would get little or no rent, as such
a plan would produce results altogether
insignificant. If the law of primogeniture
were abolished, land wonld necessarily un-
dergo a process of sabdiviston, and woald
frequently change hands, and the class of
teoant-fkrmers be destrojed. Instead of oar
importations of guano, and our new disooveries
of machinery, there would be introduced the
merely vegetative and antiquated system of
the French.
It may be objected that the law which wt
contend for tends to keep up a nobility.
This we do not consider an evil ; on the con-
trary, we approve of the maintenance of a
strong conservative element in society and
in the legislature in the form now reiferred
to. If the peerage is to exist, it ought to
have wealth derived from land. It should
not be exposed to the vicissitudes and an-
noyances of trade-speculation. It is right
that the peerage should be respected; and
there are few men, however liberal in politics,
I who fail to respect noblemen of ancient
'■ family and large possessions, combined with
personal worth and an average ability. But,
in order that the peerage may have weight,
its connexion mu!>t be kept up with certain
localities and properties; in other words, with
those palpable forms to which men usually
attach importance. l)eprive«l of a large
stake in the land by the abolition of the law
in question, the peerage would become a
despicable thing, consisting of a few empty
titles, and would gradually disappear; and
in that event our political constitution would
be destroyed ; there would be no House of
Lords to check the impetuosity of modem
legislation ; nothing between the people and
the crown, which, in its turn, would be briefly
interrogated as to its use, and then laid aside
in some museum fitted up to receive the
antiquated insignia of royalty. In destroying
I the peerage, the liberties of the people would
soon themselves be swept away, unless the
gloomy prisons of " king mob"^ — who, a third
party altogether, ever watches the struggles
of democracy — be considered a place dedicated
to the balmy breath of liberty.
By the law of primogeniture a due adjust-
ment is maintained between the conservative
and the liberal elements of society.
As to the first point, we observe that, in
countries which have no law of primogeni-
ture, there is a conservatism existing, — but of
what kind? Contemptible, tyrannical, and
ignorant, and itself the ready tool and prey of
single-handed despotism. This is the case
in different parts of the Continent The s(m1
is in possession of the peasants. These sit
down on small patches of land and vegetate,
bat do not live. This is but natural, when
11*
434
THB BOdBTIBS' BKCnOK.
men hare no stimulns to acquire wealth
tliemselyes, and see nothing of the kind
■ronnd them, and have not the advantages
of literatnre. To expect from such a class
improYements in agricaltnre is thoronghlj
preposterons. Thej hecomo the enemies of
fncdonif which, while it maj advance a
natioo, can do so only hy affording a motive
to exertion; and, as thej care not to think,
the yoke of despotism sits lightly npon
them. Thos the abolition of the law of
primogeniture would have most of the evil
effects which Guizot, in his book on demo-
cracy in Fnnce, ascribes to Socislism, as
taking away the stimulus to ambition, and
the energy of trade-competition.
At the same time, remove the law of pri-
mogeniture, and the manufacturing interest,
so eminently promotive of liberty, would be
also taken away. Nothing would be left to
counteract the despotic influences to which
we have adverted. We do not say that this
result, would be immediate; but we feel little
doubt that trade would ultimately decline.
Do not blame the Irish for their wretched-
ness, but rather the system of small allot-
ments which some persons wish introduced
into England. Such results as those in
Ireland seem naturally to follow £rom a
minute division of land.
There is one great fact in favoor of the
law in question which we may here notice.
Great Britain has become, under the opera-
tion of such laws, the richest and most pow-
erfnl nation in Uie world. Both her agri-
culture and commerce are rapidly improving.
This should make men pause before eaoaa-
raging organic change which would mate-
rially affect our national condition. Sereral
French writers argue against this law, aod
choose to point out to us its alleged evils;
but such teaching comes with h$A grace
from them. We do not wish to exdisnge
our laws for those which France has, or bad
lately, and which have sunk her so low
among the nations. T. U.
BEPORTS OF MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES.
Edinburgh Young Men't Anoeiaiion.-—ThB
session or this society was opened on the eveniiig
of the 7th of October, by a soiree, in Waterloo-
place. Through the creditable exertions of the
membera, the attendance tvas very large, and the
whole proceedings highly interesting. An elo-
quent and humorouii address was delivered by
Hr. Usher, the chairman, on friendship. A report
drawn ixp by the committee of the association
was read by Mr. J. Wilson, junior, (Vom which it
appeared, amongst a variety of matters noticed,
that au increase of ten members had taken place
during the last session, partly in consequence of
pab)io leotures, and pairtly in consequence of the
reputation which the society had acquired for the
ability of its essays and the spirit of its discus*
aions. It also appeared that there had been a
eonsiderable improvement in the attendance, both
as regards numbers and regularity. Refereoce
was made to the fact that the proceedings had
embraced the consideration of many of the most
iatereating, scientific, and philosophical questions
of the age ; and to the correspouaence which had
been canned on with members of parliament, for
aeeuring the extension of the Free Libraries' Act to
Scotland. The report having been read, and ably
commented on by Mr. Wilson, Mr. Finlay moved
its adoption, in a spirited address. Admirable
addresses were afterwards delivered by Mr. Adam
Biekson and Mr. Andrew Manhall, and an
interesting and afibctionate letter was read, ttom
one of the members who was prevented from
attending by indisposiUon. Mr. Sinclair, late of
the Juvenile Abstatnen' League, also addressed
the meeting at considerable lengUi. In order to
supply the demand which is springing up for fivr
libraries, Mr. Sinclair has appropriated a Isrpe
room in his temperance hotel for the use of ik«
memben or any young men, where they ouiy read
at all proper hours, from a library eoUee^ br
himself. lu response to a suggestion of bis t>)
the Religious Tract Society, for a supply of bo^»,
&c., for this purpose to every temperance bo«d is
the kingdom, that society have gmeroosly pvtitiD
his power to commence the undertaking referred
to. We earnestly trust that this ezeellent schese
may meet with public support.
A series of essays (m ancient Greece, inter
spersed with miscellaneous casay«, has beo
arranged for the winter months, in order to aakt
the proceedings as instructive and twnsccntire st
possible. We earnestly recommend the scdefy
(which meets every evening at balf-past at^
precisely, at 12, South St David-street) to all
young men seeking a weekly society, aa one of a
puralv literary character, and of long staniiiBi:;
and also the Controvenialist Society, with wbkh
it is in union, and whidi meets in the same ]dact
on the second Wednesday in each moaMii.
At a numerously attended meeting of die taes-
bera, held on the evening of the Pth alt . a \f9&-
monial. consisting of Goldsmith's and Sir WaHir
Scott's works, wan presented to Mr. James TotBer.
as a mark of esteem, on the occasion of hisleavaf
Edinburgh.— P. G. C.
Aln^ord Mutual Impiwtnwni Seede^.— Tkis
THE INQUIBER.
435
society has been in existence about ten months,
and owes its origin to the exertions of a Tew
energetic young men, actuated by a strong desire
for self-improvement A preliminary meeting
was held, and the above society instituted, with
ten members, which number has since been nearly
doubled. Lectures have been given on " Ancient
Architecture," by Mr. Fowler; and on "The
Chemistry of Food," by Mr. H. Moody. A French
class has been proposcKl by the vice-president, and
is now in course of formation. A manuscript
magazine has also been commenced. The first
nomber, pust issued, containing six articles, is. on
the whole, a very respectable production. The
society is likely to be of great benefit to the young
men of this town ; and its Aiture prospects appear
to be encouraging. Its sphere of action might be
Terr advantageously enlarged. — E. J.
Prtiton {Orimahaw-ttreet) Mutual Improvf-
tnent Society. — On the 31 st of August the young
men who form the above society held their first
anniversary in the vestry of the ludependent
chapel, when about sixty members and IHends
were ]ffvsent. After tea, the president. Rev. R.
Slate, took the chair and called upon the secretary,
Jifr. H. Anderton, to read the report for tlie past
session, from which it appeared the society was
formed in October, 1852 (by a few young men
who were desirous of improving their minds),
and was then in a prosperous condition. The
lues tings are held once a fortnight ; a grammar
class is in existence, and a manuscript magazine
about to be commenced. After tlie reading of the
report, an essay, which displayed censiderable
literarv talent, was read by Mr. J. H. Forshaw
"On Mutual Improvement Societies." A few
excellent remarks were made by Mr. Brewer on
the acquisitioD of knowledge. The meeting was
also addressed by Messrs. Jepson, Lawson, New-
sham, and others. Several well-selected recita-
tations were delivered by the members, which
received considerable applause.— £. S. P.
Mold Mutual Improvement Society. — Thit
society was established by a few young men in the
year 1851. The members meet together once a
week for discussions and lectures alternately, and
have, besides, a special meeting fortnightly for
reading Arom our best authors, and recitations.
Much success has attended the operations of the
society ; but the want of a good library and read-
iug*room is much felt. Some of the members
subscribe to your most useful magazine.'and have
derived not a little benefit from it.— Reubpn.
HuU {jGeorge-»lreeC\ Mutual Improvement Atto-
eiation. — The second annual Una meeting of this
association was held in the vestry of George-street
Baptist chapel, on Thursday evening, September
15th, when about sixty persons sat down to an ex-
cellent tea. After the tables were cleared, the Rev.
W. Stuart took the chair, and called upon A. W.
Barker, the secretary, to read the report. Mr.
T. C. Eastwood, the president, read a paper on
the formation of the earth. The Rev. Mr. Cook-
son, fVt>m Massachusetts, and Messrs. Carlill and
Millhouse addressed the meeting. — A. W. B.
€]^ 3ni|tiirtr.
QUESTIONS REQUIRING ANSWERS.
194. Permit me to inquire, through the medium
of your valuable periodical, what are the studies
and qualifications requisite for the English bar?
If any of your correnpondeuts will kmdiy give
advice on this subject, they will confer a great
flivour on — M.
195. Anxious to obtain a knowledge of comi)0-
sition, I should be obliged to any of your corre-
spondents who would furnish a plan, by the
adoption of which I might be enabled to 'write
wphat I think f rather than think what to write. —
Bus.
190. I should be glad if any of your readers
ooold inform me of any books relating to the
princip!e$ of benefit buildmg associations, and
should also be glad of any information as to their
hittory and progreti, or of the names and pub-
lishers of any work bearing on the subject —
A. T. M.
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
105. The Nature of the Sun's Body.— This
question has fWrauenUy occupied the attention of
astronomicfll and scienUfic minds, without any
fixed or evident conclusion being arrived at.
** Walter," in his article in the July number of
this magazine, attempts to prove that the sun
cannot be a body of fire, and then gives what he
considers to be the proper theory of heat In the
continuation of bis article in the September
number, he develops a theory somewhat different
from his first, and somewhat nearer the truth.
AAer having endeavoured, in the July number,
to establish the fact tliat the iufiuence of fire
diminishes in proportion to its distance, by
taking an illustration firom an ordinary fire ; and
then, transporting the idea into space, he finds
the mountain tops, though nearest to the sun,
covered with a winding-sheet of eternal snow,
while the more distant plains and valleys are the
warmest This is " Walter's" only proof for his
conclusion that the sun cannot be a body of fire.
Let us, now, test this theory by example on a
larger scale. Instead of a mountain not exceed-
ing five miles, let us take the equator, which
measures 3,962 miles fW>m the line of the poles in
the direction towards the sun. If there be, then,
any truth in *' Walter's" premises, the equator
(or, more properly, the ecliptic), being nearest the
sun, should be covered with eternal snow, and
the warmth and germinating influences of the
sun be mostly received at the distant poles.
Where the density of the atmosphere is greatest,
there, according to "Walter's" theory, the heat
must, therefore, be at its maximum. But the
reverse of all this is the case ; consequently, this
theory falls to the ground. Before any theory on
this subject can be proved, we must draw our
conclusions from two points where the atmosphere
436
THE IllQUniKR.
is at the Mme denwitr. This is not tbe case at I or light existed in paitides, hovrrer rare. fWu
the moanlain tojis and the plainR beneaili, but is '*-" "' — *-* ^ — — *^
nearly »o at the poles and the eelipUo. When we
consider the increase of heat that is experienced
at the ecliptic, aotwithstandinK the greater rarity
of the atmosphere, we must come to a oonelusion
the opposite of that which •• Walter" has so im-
suocessfullT en'learoured to prove. Had '* Walter"
transported hi« fire, instead of his idea, into
space, he would then liave found the same etCect
as that produced by tlie Kun, — that tlie nearer he
approached it the heat would gradually become
less. Thin does not ariite trow any deficiency of
the principle of heal, but simply from the want
of any medium or substance to receive or retain
it. The atmosphere in the higher regions con-
tains nearly tlie same amount of heat as it does at
the sea's level . but as we ascend the atmosphere
becomes mure rare, and occupies a much larger
space; so also must the heat that it contains.
Ilenre any bodr that still occu}>ies the same space
mun necessarily experience a diminution of heat
(being a solid substance) must be a neccsssry
obstruction to the passage of these partklss ; but,
on the contrary, we know that it ran be so euft-
centrated as to produce ignition by pasaiag
through a convex lens. This fact i» suflkciciit ts
establish the absolute immateriality of light aai
heat Secondly. It has been very |4auMUy sw^
mised, in consequence of the dork spots thatlhSM
occasionally been seen on the aun'a suriaoe. viua
viewed through a telescope, tliat the sun is n
opai)ue >H}dy enveloped in a luminous almoftphat,
and therefore not a body of fire ; and that these «i«fe
are slight openings in its Inmiuous atjuosphav,
showing till* dark mass within. But the imei tk«
these spots are so transitory, and are, at tiOMi,
observed to contract with great rapidity and £>•
appear, like something melted and absorbed koK
a boiling fluid, is a strong prtrsumptiun in Cuvow
of the hypothesis that the sun ia a body of On.
It is more philosophical to look upon these i^pda
as being i>eculiar elements, or portioua of
in pro|K>rtiun bh it atcendn. The cold, then, that i that are less capable of existing in the iucM-
is felt at the tops of high mountains is owing to descent state, than to imagine theui to be op*
the atmosphere being there so thin, and incapable , ings occtirring in its atmosphere, which wusU
of fonuiiig a medium for Uie retention of the sun's i e%'entually be a violation of the physioJ la«i if
rays : it is from the want of air, rather tlian from nature. Another argument may be dmved ira
the nature of the air itself. But let us now see
what " Walter" alfirm« to be the proper theory of
heat: it is, the action of the sun's atmosphere
upon Uie latent caloric of the bodies of animals.
Thin certainly cannot be the case ; for it is a well-
Icnnwn fact that the sim acts upon and affects
every insulated substance, whotlivr that substance
be in tlic punsesHion of latent caloric or not, or
whether it be unimated or inaninmted ; the sun
alfecLs thrni all nut the Ie>s c-ertainly, though the
latter are unconscious of it. Heat, then, exists
altogether independent of Uiese conditions (enu-
mcrated by ** Walter"), c«>nso((uently they cannot
be the cause o( it. Not only so ; but this theory
is OS much subject to the same difficulties as the
one that " Walter" has tried to disprove. This
influence, however it mav be explained, must
al!«o be airecie<l by the uiMtance. If heat, on
" Waller's" theory, be produced liy the mutual
action of the sun with other bodies, then the
nearer the two bodies that mutually act upon
each other ajtproach, the more powerful must be
the action. The argument, then, which " Walter'*
has taken fVom the plains and mountain tops is
equally as effectivt: against this th*-ory as the one
that he rejects. In his supplementary article,
however, he .^eenis to have discovered a more
philosophic principle. He appears now to be
aware of the lact that the sensation of heat is
not produced by the latent caloric of animals
being acted upon by the sun, but that caloric is
radiated /rom the sun. Still he seems to enter-
tain the following misapprehensions : — First, that
light is an imponderable fluid ; second, that the
sun is ni>t a hody of fire. First, liglit cannot be
an impondtnvble fluid, for thb would be a con-
traiiiciion : if it were a fluid, or a substanre of
any kind, it roust iMssess the property of gravita-
tion ; and, oonsetiuently, could ni>t be impon-
derable. Possessing this property, it could never
leave the l>ody of tbe snn ; iu radiation would,
therefore, never take place. Newton, no doubt,
beiieved (hat heal ana \tg^\ cil\«vM \u particlas ;
but this is evidently impoas\U«, tram ^h^UidtkAX
tliejr can piM thitragh BoUd wuM^snmia, II ttMi\^\&dx^NaaT»r«\^aAKA.\«Did, bad it MAamm,
the intrinsie luminosity of the sun that it must be
a bo4ly of fire, there not being aiiv kuoaii «b>
stance (whether solid, liquid, or aenfonn) thai cat
possess the luminous appearance of the sim unka
It be in a slate of ignition. All sulnitanoeA bueoae
luminous when heated to S0() deg. in the <2iri,
and 1 ,iHX) dcK. in tlie lighL We hare stn'Ug pn>>
babiliiy, then, to believe that the sun is st tus
elevated temperatun*, otherwise its liuuinuusnsa
can on no other principle be accounted ic-r. It
affiirds no solution to the ditficulty to supix^r
that the sun is surrounded with a lumiuiKi
atmosphere adapted for giving out light an-l beat,
as there is not sufficieut evidcuoe to prost tba
tbe sun has an atmi'Sphere at all; and. acrr i:
otherwise, dieniistry teaches us that there arc os
fiaseous elements, simple or combined, that sic
uminous at an ordinary temperature. Tte
Laplacian cosmogany affords another striki^
prool that the sun is a body of fire. Tka
hy]H>theHis, so admirably coiisi»tent with aft
astronomical data, aMumes that the nrUakw
matter of space, previous ti> tli« fonnatidi d
stellars and planetarv bodies, existed in a vey
hii^h temperature,— that it must have brca a
umTer«al fire-mist, of which the auu is a pmtr
good specimen, though now in a more cootrarM
state. Still its density is about four limes la«
than that of our planet, which is in favour of om
hypothesis that the sun is in an iicneous diduasd
state. Again: We have strong proob thai ik«
centre of our earth is also in this igneous eo*-
dition, being the residue of that incandcscsai
state in which it existed at the time of its fiinia
lion,— a state analogous to tbe present roudiUJa
of its primary. Thus, every thing considcnd
tends to the eonclnsiou that the aun is a body «f
fire. Thera is no other hypothesis so midi la
harmony with physical laws, and with the f^
nomenon of the solar aysiem ; mm^ our pit^
knowledge of the laws of heat autboffiscs m V
suppose that the solar ajrstem coqM only be ^la
restored to its supposed orifiual a^uloas saa
'Vri ^^ aroUcation of that amoiuit of beat ait
\^
1SZ IWQUXSXB.
487
this frame ofthinn then had neTer come to pass,
and WB never ecmld have existed to have fonned
mny speealadons eoneeminff tbem.— W. H. T.
180. The UniveniiieM.—l shall be very pl<»ased
to aifiord TOOT corrsepoodcnt D. H. any iaforma-
tioD that I can regardm^ the University of Oxford.
I «annot give the relative merits of ttie diffirrent
svateau tai^[ht in the four universities he men-
tions. Mj idea is, that Ibr the matter of mere
dry lavr, that of Loudon would, most probably, be
found the best. Tbe University of Oxford does
not profiass to go far into tlie details of that study.
Its chief aim is to form the mind of the student —
to Injr therein the foundation, on which a super-
structure may a/Verwards be built up, by the
siudcoit's ^pplyiuit himself to the peculiar studies
of the profession ne may selecL The distinguish-
ing cfaaracteristifis of an Oxford education are, a
sound knowledge of the classics and the study of
logie. The examinations have lately been altered,
and consist now, I believe, of one in each year,
till tbe degree of B.A. is talten, at tbe end of the
foortb year. Every student (except Uiose in
nauaiej^poes through the one same routine till
that tuM, when he is at liberty to select some
parlscular branch, and proceed to M.A. (Master
of Arts), B.C.L. (Bachelor of Civil Lawsj, or
H.B. (Baebelor of Medicine). There are several
acbolarsbipe and fellowships open to the students
of any college or hall, for tbe encouragement ol
law reading, such as ** The Yinerian" and ** The
£ldon." These are of small emolument; but
they confer great honour through life on the
holders of them. I do not wish to recommend
my own ** Alma Mater" to D. H : but I cannot
help leUtng him that, in my opinfou, an Oxford
educaaon (in tbe ease of one who goes to Oxford
to work hard for four years) is a most excellent
IMvpar^on for any aAer-study. I should fancy
this is pecubarly the case with law. The mind
nnder clattical study resemble a tceU, dug deep
and waUed up, and logie supplies it with a pwinp;
so that, if naturally of a not inferior order, it is
capable of anything within the reach of man.
The Seotts (Lords Eldon and Stowell), and the
present Solicitor General (Sir B. Bethel, who has
been styled the first pleader in Europe), are
instances of the way in which wells dug at Oxford
may be sapplied, at Lincohi's Inn or Uie Temple
(by intense application during the years spent
there), with overflowing and ever-flowing stores.
D. H. is mistaken if he thinks that lime need be
** IVittered away" at Oxford. To one going up
there with a oetermination to work hard there
is every inducement to study, as I can testify
from my own experience. Should D? H. think
of proceeding to Oxford, be must immkdiatblt
have his name entered on the books of some col-
lege, as it generally requires some time to have
tbem there before one can go into residence.
There is an exception to this in the case of a Aa{/,
to which one may proceed at once. Should D. H.
wish for any more infonnation that 1 can aflbrd
him, I shall be happy to do so through your
columns, or by his application to me by letter.
For this latter purpoee I enclose my name and
address, and beg to subscribe myself, your in-
terested reader,^F. 8., M.A., Salop.
In answer to the questions of your correspondent
D. H., I beg leave to submit the following for his
perusal, Irus^g it will meet with his entire
approbation: — Cambridge is, decidedly, the oni-
verrity most suited for one (such as D. H.) who is
desirous to study the law and become emment in
the legal professfon, as its students are more
skilled in the mathematics, and the sciences which
immediately depend upon them, than those of the
other universities, and are^ at the same time, sound
logicians and |;ood classical scholars. The col-
lege at this university most suitable for D. H. to
enter as a law student will be, either Trinity Hall
or Downing College. The former has taelve
fellowships in its gift, ten of which are to be 1 eld
by students in the law. (Amongst the lear.ied
men who were students at this hall, Dr.^Haddcn,
Master of Requests to Queen Elizabeth; Sir
Robert Naunton, secretary to James I. ; Philii%
the celebrated Earl Chesterfield ; and Sir Wilbam
de Grey, may be mentioned; and also several
eminent lawyers, who have recently Hiled dis-
tinguished omoes in that profession.) The latter
coll^ie has sixteen fellowships, and six scholar-
ships. The object of the fuondation of this
college is stated in its charter to be, the study of
law and physio. One or two of its soholaisLips
are to be competed for annually. The value of
the soboiarships are fmm £90 to .£8, and the
fellowships ttom £300 or £iOO to £S0. The de-
grees conferred on the law students are. Bachelor
of Civil Laws (B.C.L.), and Doctor of civil Laws
(D.C.L.). D. H. will be reqntred to be a member
of one <Xf the colleges six years (of which he must
keep nine term*) before he oan obtain thu degree
of B.C.L., and five more to obtain that of D.C.L.,
which is usuallv considered as an honorary title.
The academical year at Cambridge consists of
seven months, and has three terms. Lent, Easter,
and Michaelmas. The expenses of a student for
tutors' fees, board and lodging, firing, caudles,
and a few other items, amount to from £00 to
J^IAO per annum, according to bis taste. His
annual expenditure will be from £130 to XiaO, if
he is economical. The exaroinauons are yearly
or half-yearly. For other information I should
refer him to the " Cambridge University Calendar,"
price 5s., which can be ordered through any book-
seller.—A Quondam Stdokmt, Somerset.
181. Works/or Drapen. — I have long been in
search of such a work as *' Half-ell" requires,
which Ufl think, a desideratum in our literature.
Dodd's <* Textile Manufactures of Great Britain"
is a very interesting work, and contains much of
the desired information. It is published in
"Knight's Weekly Volume," at is. No. 2S of
" Chambers' Infonnation," price l|d., will be
useftil to '* Half-ell." There is, also, a magazine
recently published by Watson, Aldine Chambers,
IS, Patemoster-row,— " The Woollen, Worsted,
and Cotton Journal," — monthly, Is.; but, as I
have not seen it, I cannot speak of its merits. —
J. C.
Being in the same occupation as "Halfell,"
and having been often veiy anxious to obtain
some sdeniific work on the subject, I have
inquired at tbe principal booksellers', but could
never hear of any, except a work entitled. ** Per-
kins on Haberdashery." It pives a brief and
lucid description of tbe principal articles in con-
nexion with the business, with the general modes
and places of manulactnre, " when required." It
also contains a superior course of book-k^epiog,
with systems for mental calculation. It can 1^
obtained by order of any bookseller, price Ss. 6d.—
J. G. 8.
438
THE TOUHO m'UDaWT AKD WBITBB'S ABBWTAIIT.
€ju ^nirng Itntont ml ^ritn'i asBistaul.
GRAMMAR CLASS.
Ex0rei»es in Grammar. No. XX,
Junior DivUion. \
Perform Ezerdw No. XI., Vol. IV. p. 37.
Senior Division. \
Parse the following eentences, and point out
espedally the agreement of the nominatiTe and
verb :—
" I loTB them that love me; and those that
•eek me early shall find me." *' Thou hast loved
righteousness, and hated iniquity." He leaves
home at nine in the morning. We go to Boston
next week, where we expect you will meet us.
Thy brother was present last yesr. Benjamin
works at the foundry. Henry and Thomas are
in the office. From crag to crag leaps the live
thunder. To err is human. The fear of possible
evil often prevents the performance of certain
i;ood. Your bread and milk is ready. To write
legibly, to speak correctly, and to compose readily,
ara useful arts. Either George or Henr^ is coming
tOi^ay. Neither Samuel nor his fnends have
arrived. Their party is too much divided to do
any good. The clergy are not unanimous on the
convocation question.
MODEL EXERCISE Ko.Vin.
n<i«VoLIILp.3S0.
L
OW men are not always vfise. A sojt answer
tometh away wrath. Have no dealings with an
angru man. Foolish conversstion should be
avoided. Siu is hurtful to the soul. Some have
the ail to make the xcorse apiiear the better reason.
The severest strokes of Providence are generally
healed by time. This man is niiser than his
brother. The most fa\U\ful deaUnr, and the
mtrest motives, are ollen misunderstood. The
liberal devise generous things. The peacemaker
is blessed in his deeds. The meek shall inherit
the earth. Light is sown for the righteous.
II.— Adjectives.
Old
Wise
Soft
Angry
Foolish
Bnni'al
{No posi-
Hre form)
Severe
Faithfhl
Purer
Liberal
Generous
Meek
Righteous
older, or elder
wiser
softer
(more) angry
(morej foolish
(more) hurtful
(worse
I better
severer, or
(more) severe
(more) faithful
Smrer
more) liberal
more) generous
meeker
(more) rigbteons
oldest, or eldest
wisest
softest
(raos(| angry
(most) foolijih
(most) btinful
worst
best
severest, or
(most) severe
(most) faithful
purest
(most] liberal
(most) generous
meekest
(most) righteous
III.
The English were sufficiently foolish to inter,
fere with the French Revolution. The Scotch
Greys ware very valiant at Waterloo. The Steus
people contended many yeara for HberU^. Scnp-
tural knowledge is the most valuable. The Wtltk
regard their language as the most beautiful
spoken. The Boiurbon femily has been most
unfortunate.
IV.
Wue; merti/W.— A truly wise king will al»
be mereiful. David was wiser than Saul, and
therefore more merdfU. Solomon was the wisert
of kings, and perhaps the most mercifuL
Qood ; hononrahU.—k. good man will be hon-
ourable. The better a man is, the more honour-
able will he be. The best men are the most
honourable.
Honest; brave,— -It you will be honest, yoo
must be brave. The more honest yon are. tbe
more brave you must be. The most honest ire
most brave.
Industrious; 7«fe.— Persons who aiw indus-
trious should not be late. John is later tbui
George, but not mora industrious ; Henry, bow-
ever« is the latest at work that I know, and be b
the most industrious.
Poor; respecfoWe.— Because people are poor,
it does not follow that they are not luptrtafclt
Diogenes was poonr Hub AlezOMkr, and de-
ciAsJIy man respectable. Jesus was the pooRSt
of men, and the most respectable.
Rich; lwnari(ms.—A. very rich man is often
very luxurious. Daniel Dancer was ridwr tbso
many, but not more luxurious ; but SofeiacD
was 'the richest of kings, and peifaaps the ibo«
luxurious.
Chaste; sentimental.— A chaste writer is not
always sentimental ; nor is a writer more ch*»»
as he becomes more sentimental ; yet it is pos9il>}f
for the most chaste writer to be among the nc«
sentimental. ______
LOGIC CLASS.
Junior,— Vide "Art of Reasoning,** No. XI.,
VoL II. — With what is the mind of man Datoralif
filled ? What is the olBoe of observation in rsi:>>-
cination? Of hypothesis ? Of induction? Wbal
is theory 7 Desonbe some proofs of the co-ontiitf-
tion of observation, &c., in the invesiigalioB acJ
discovery of truth.
Provectior.—Vide Exereise No.X-, Vol. II.
Senior.— What is causation 7 and how U tfc«
idea educed ? _
MATHEMATICAL CLASS.
SOLUTIONS.— VIII.
Question 65. Here 13 months and £ : i-
I day, at Jr5 per months «5 3 q;
Rent and taxes s 30 0 0
365 days, at 2s. 6d., penonal ex-
penses =e 45 12 ft
And 5:2 weeks and 1 day, at 5s. per
week- 13 0 ^j
Total expenditure 173 16 ;^
.-. £7Q0-£in 16s. 9|fd.=.e26 3s. 24f f.-J«
0. C. H.
THK TOUXO STUDBMT AND WRITER'S AflaUTAHT.
439
QueMtion 66.
960+480+ 240+ 130+ 96 + 48 +4 + 1 a
1949 farthings,
and £194 18a. s 187104 farthings,
1S7104 ^ ,^ ,. . ,
.*. -^fl^Q- =96, the number required.
Qttettion 67.
The la«»tinstalment=f-(i + f+i+5)=^r'
•Equated time for paying the whole amounts
il^+ fx3+f^ + ix9+SV^~12={3J=5JH
months.
Interest on j^lOO for mi months, at 5 per cent ss
je2 78. lU.Vd.
.-. As £102 7s. lUAd. : £2 7s. lliVrd. : :
£750 10s. Ud. : £17 lis. 6| ISJJfd.,
lie discount required. J. S. D.
Quention 68. Br Euclid (book iii. prop. 35), the
12*
lianieterofcircle=-^+6=30.— -<ns. _ _
QufMtion 09. Since the diameter of the bore iss
balf the whole diameter, W equals
_ . •7HMxaS78x3
1 X -7864 X 8878 x(A)«= — ^- =
209180136 Jl' *>^»*i ^
=36*316 ounces per foot,
o7d
7r the entire weight=36 316x20B726-320.^^fM.
J. F. L.
Question 70.
c . /« , ,x^ 843,,^. „^„ . 12^x243
8«=|n(2o+(»i-l)<f)=s — (14+242x5= —
= 148716— ^n*. J.F.L.
Question 71. Area of base =48* x -7854
Content in inches of cylinderB48*x -7854x70
„ , , , ,, 48«x-7854x70
.'. Content in gallons =
277 274
=456-838.— ^n*. W. C. D.
Question 72. When the side of an octagon is 1,
the area =4-8984271 ;
then, as 1» : 20« : : 4.8284271 : 1931-37084.
.*. Solidity in cubic feet=s
1931-37084x28 375 544:W ,«, ,^,,^ ^.. ^^
,- ;, -= ^- =125-18144 cubic feet
144x3 3
Ans. Akerowili.
Question 73. Let xs width between the walk
and the wall ;
then 200-2(x+6)=widai of enclosed part;
2 (300 + 200) X- 4 x« = 1000 X- 4 x« = area of
ground between the walk and the wall ;
and [300-2 (x+6)] [200-2 (x+6)]=arwi of
enclosed part;
then, by the question, [300-2 (x+0)3 [SOO-2
(x+6)] = 1000 x-4x«.
Divide by 4 and (144-x) (94-x)BSd0x-x« ;
or 13536-238 x x x* =250 x-x«
2 X* -488 x= 13536
x«-244xa6768
Completing square and extracting root,
X- 122= ±9008884, &c.
.*. x=122±90-06884=31-91116 feet— ^im.
W. C. D.
Errata. — In question 74, instead of t*+x+y=
127; read, x*+y+x=137. This question will lie
open another month.
QUESTIONS POB SOLUTION.— X.
84. A fhther left hia estate of £20,000 among
five children. For every sovereign which A gets,
Bgeta £1 10s.; C,£2; D,£S 10s.; and £, £3.
What was the share of each 7
85. A merdiant sold flour at 458. per sack, by
which he gained 10 per cent; but, as it was
growing scarce, he sold the remainder of his stock
at 00s. per sack. What was his gain per cent at
the lattfcr price?
87. A gentleman offered to give £150 per annum
to a person to become his steward ; but tlie steward
dechned, sa3ring, " No, sir. If you will give me
4d. for the first month, 16d. for the second, and
so increase m^ wages everv month by a multi-
plier of 4, 1 will serve you. ' What amount did
he require ?
88. In how many relative positions can a family
of six sit at table ? Explain the process.
89. A piece of copper, weighing 17 lb., is to bo
beaten into a hemispherical bowl that willjust
float in water, and of uniform thickness, what
will that thickness be, supposing the specific
gravity to be 87887
90. A man standing at the side of a river hears
his voice reflected in four seconds. What is the
breadth of the river?
91. Counting by my pulse (which I afterwards
discovered to beat seventy-three times per mhraie),
I found that between seeing a flash of lightning
and hearing the thunder there were thirty-five
pulsations. At what distance did the nearest part
of the concussion take place?
92. Required, snperflcial content of the earth,
supposing it to be a globe, whose diameter is 7912
miles.
93. Wbat must be the diameter of a globe whose
superficial content is twice that of the earth?
94. Given,
(6xy)
**+y"= 3 Uo find X and y.
x+v=9 i
Mvlim nf ^mh.
The History of tke Sunday School Union. By
W. U. Watson. Price 38. 6d. London : Sun.
day School Union.
This elegantly got up volume was publLnhcd as a
memorial of the Jubilee of the London Sunday
School Union. It contains an i nteresting account
>f the establishment of Sund^ aohools, and a
raluabla compendium of important facts connected
irith their history. Mr. Watson, however, does
lot exhaust his sufctjeet; but laavea ample scope
'or one who shall hereafter aspira to be the histo-
■ian of a great moral movement
ElemenU qf Psychology. Parti. J.D.Morrell
London: Pickering.
Greek and Roman Philosophyand Science. En>
cyclopedia Metropolitana, Vol. XXVII. Lon-
don : Griffin and Co.
Moral and Metaphysical Philosophy. Part II.
By Rev. F. D. Maurice. Encyclopedia Metro*
poliUna, VoL XXVIII. London : Grifitn and
Co.
Aristotle's Oryanon. (Classical Librair.) Tran-
slated by O. F. Owen, M.A. London : Bohn.
440
BOTI0B8 OP BOOKS.
Bacfm** Noimm Orgmmnm and jidvameeHumt qf
Leamina. By Josqph Devey, M JL (Sdendfio
library.) Loodon: Bohn.
The MeditaHont of Deteartm. By John Yeiteh,
A.M. Bdinbavh : SatbcrUoid and Knoz.
CowUe9 PhUotopkp of the Sciences. By O. H.
Lewes. (Sciendfle libimry^ London : Bohn.
An Outline of the Law$ qf Thought. By Bev.
Wm. ThonwoB. Third adUion. London : Pio-
keiinir.
Smith's Theory of MoraiSentimenie. (Standard
Library.) London: Bohn.
The AHqf Reasoning. By Sanrael NeiL Lon>
don: Walton and Maberty.
Within the last Ibw monfiia the above named
publieadons and repoblioations have made their
impearmiioe. Taken aa a aign of the times, they
u»rd pleasing evidence of the revived interest
Alt in philosophical parsoits by the thinking
minds of our countrv and era. Here, upon the
same publishers* shelves, and on the ssme book-
sellers' counter, the best thoughts of the olden
times are placed alongside with the best utterances
of the philosophical mintls of the modem world ;
giving evidence, either that their war of opinion is
not yet terminated, though a treaty of peace is to
be signed between theaa. The eclectic spirit of
our age Is strikingly manifest in the ardour with
which truth is sought, wheresoever it has, either
in whole or in part, succeeded in developing itself.
As an angury of the future, this is one of the most
cheering signs. The wisdom of the past must not
be ignored by the presumpdon of those who would
assume the position of teachers in the present
era ; they must be prepared to
" Seize the truth, where'er *tis foand,
On chrisdan or on heathen ground."
A wise study of the progress of mind— of the
various problems which the human mind has
thought, or thinks, worthy of invesdgaiion — of
tiie various answers which the thinkers of other
ages or our own have given or are (giving to those
quesdoning«i, and of the relative importance of
these spedfio thoughts, must be exceedingly be-
neficial to the inquirer after truth. We necessarily
esteem the essentially oontroversial character of
onr dmes— nowhere more manifestly uzbibited
than in a glance at " The PubUnhers' Circular"—
as one of its chief recommendations ; and we
r^oioe to see the broad surface of our country's
literature sown with the seeds of great thoughts,
which necessitate the eonsideralive spirit, the
weighing and balancing process, the argumenta-
tive power which we are, in this serial, endea-
▼ourinf|[ to lead to good and beneficial results.
In a brief space, such as our ** confines" liiay per-
mit us to bestow on " Nodces of Books/ it is
quite impossible to do justice to the great minds
whose intellectual fruits now grace our library
table ; and one or two words ot characterization
may well suffice for those illustrious immortals
whose names have been borne alone on the wings
of fame through so many ages, ana these not so
much in reference to their intrinsic merits, as
reganting the mode in which they are now intro-
duced to our companionship. The modem names
which appear in the above catalogue have all won
themselves a right to respectful audience when
ttiey appeal to the reading publio, vrith the ex-
oepdon, periiaps, of the youngest menaber of die
conclave — ** our own contributor*'— wboae name,
although not yet carred deeply on the pillars of
*' the temple of bme," wUl, we are confident,
soon be aoknowladged aa worthy of enrolmeut
there.
MorretTs work ia en instalnMnt oC diat whicb,
we presume, its author intends to be his wtagnum
ojnts. It displays a vast amouitf of reading— not
yet, however, perfecdy dif^ested; considerable
power of perspicuous exposition: hisusnal leaning
towards the Germanic style of thoufHit . and s
rather remarkable combiuadon of Brituh common
sense and transcendentalism. The work deserrei
the considerajdon of all minds inclined to philo>
sophical puranits. The treatises in ** The £n<7-
olopedia Hetropolitana*' are of standard exoelknce,
and oonstitute valuable contribadons to the hi»>
tory of philosophy from the BogUsh view-pomt,
although they are not altogedier emancipated (hxa
the German tendency to find modem thourbo
penneadng ancient minds. The Bev. Mr. Slsa-
riee's present work is, although of great value,
scarcely up to the mark, in clear and nneBk-
biguous recital and explanadon, of hb last «ork:
signs of hurry and immature condensadon oecs-
sionally appear; but who, in tbe present tge,
cttuld do better? Aristode's *' Organon" is ex-
ceedingly well translated, oonaidenng the diffictil-
des of sneh a task ; many of the foot-notes are
very noUceable, both for merit and a teodcticy to
appraise Oxford logic at a higher rate than it is st
present thought worthy of. Bacon *s *^ NorinB
Organum" is elegauUy and cheiqtly got up ; tbe
notes form a sort of commentary, whidi consti>
tutes this edidon a *' Bacon made easy.'* Descartes
is fluendy and elegand^ translated : the pref«ee
is cridcal and appreciative. Gomte'a philosophy
has found a well-qualified expounder in Ur.
Lewes. All that he undertakes is executed vitb
tact, ability, and liveliness. Deep-thinking, thou^b
not abstruse— thorough master of his subject^
though not presuming in his style of treatment-
there is a fascinaUon in his mode of elaboniinf
his thoughts which wins the reader oo with esgo-
ness. He speaks from conviction, and b tbo^
fore deserving of a hearing, partieolariy on s
topic with which he is so remarkably eunversaot
Thomson's *' Laws of Thought" is an elaborste
and notice-worthy treatise on logic ; the result <^
maoh clear thinking and acutenesa of miai-
Smith's ** Moral Sendments" is simply a reprist
We know not why this woik was not pot uxkr
the editorship of some one eapable of unfoJAbf
the reladou of Smith's theory to other moral >y>>
terns, but we are sure that it dcaerred to bsre
been so edited. Of ** The Art of Reasooin; it
scarcely becomes this magazine to speak, left i:
should give expression to those feelinxs of adiai-
radon and respect with which ita oouduetors ksie
always looked upon tbe eJTorts of the author. Ve
mav simply state that the introductory aaaaw
and the appendix oontain ample evidence of tbe
vast erudiuoQ, and mastery in phil«so|*hical ape-
culadon, of ita author. The aysism of logic mbiA
this author advocates is hi^lr dcaervtugof aaea-
don ; while the popular slyto in whkh he ta*
ttvated this abstrase tulgeet provea that «b«
high powera and genial eulmre anr muted in one
mind, this subject is ci^iable of being bioaitt
within the compan of ordinaty (faiuktrs. W»
hope no reader of our m>ga«ina will fiul lo jet-
chase this book.
Ullitnnr.
BT THB AUTHOR OF "thE ART OF REASOXIXa."
No. XXrV.— ELOQUENCE.
*' Tbus Eloqaenoe," sajB BochefoacAolt, ''.consists in saying all that is necessary, and
notliing more." " To be trnly eloquent is to speak to the parpose.*** Eloquence is not a
** knack or artifice by which the periods of a discourse are curiously and harmoniously
strung together, decorated with many flowery images, the whole entirely calculated to set
off the speaker^s art, by pleasing the ear and amusing the fancy ff but *Mt consists in
conreying our opinions or our arguments to the minds of the hearers in the most effectual
manner." X Bhetoric is not trickery; it is not an art by which men are enabled to express
wearisome commonplaces in trite forms of speech ; but an art which teaches us how to
train the mind in such a manner as shall give the greatest compression, precision, energy,
and beauty, to the thoughts which arise within it; and informs us in what way we shall
best direct the impulses of the soul to ready, potent, and successful action. Eloquence is
not a deceit, a delusion, and a snare; but an agency by which men*s souls may be strongly
stirred, and incited to the practical adoption of the ideas which the speaker utters ; *' it is
the talent of rapidly conveying and forcibly impressing those sentiments with which we
ourselves are deeply moved,''§ and casting the brilliancy of imagination athwart the path
of profound thought.
Eloquence etymologically signifies speaJdng oti^, — ^the utterance of that which is within.
To speak out effectively, however, it is needful that we acquaint ourselves with the precise
processes by which thought evolves itself into the reality of truth, — ^the exact usage of the
language in which we wish to speak, — the best arrangement to which our thoughts may
be subjected, — and the likeliest means of impressing our hearers with the irresistible force
of these thoughts. To all the resources of an accurate logic we must unite sincere
thought, deep feeling, and an aD-pervading intensity of purpose. As occasion demands,
the orator must employ " winged words," which hiss and hurtle through the air like light-
ning through the collied sky, and tones as soft as if the immortal harmonies of heaven
were breathing from his lips. A bewildering abundance of metaphors — a torrent of
imagery, or a choice selection of vocables, expressed with smart crispness and mechanical
precision, do not constitute eloquence ; thai demands animation, and reflective power
resulting in thought uttered with lyrical fluency united to logical exactness. A well-
developed consciousness, capable of taking a clear and accurate survey of the rarious ideas
which occupy the mind — a capacity of uniting these with precision, and exhibiting them
• Blair's " Lectiirea,** xxv.
f Campbell's " Pulpit Eloquence " p. 166.
X Bsrron's " Lectures,'* xxviii.
( D'Alembert's " Beflections on Eloquence and Style."
2m
442 RHETORIC. — ^NO. XXVT.
with logical coherency — t^ perspicuous, rich) simple, and facile method of giring vttenooe
to thought — a graceful, hat natural, omateness of diction, the result of a keenly-cultiTatcd
and refined imagination — ^a rare tact in the methodical adaptation of means to the achieve-
ment of the end or ends desired — are all comhined in the idea sjmholized bj the term
Eloquence. It is the sequent — " the bright consummate flower" of all rhetorical culture—
the noblest manifestation of man as a thinker. It is because this is the case that Lord
Bolingbroke is correct in sajing, ^ Eloquence hm eharms to lead mankind, and giyes ■
nobler superiority than power, which eyery dunce may use; or fraud, which every knsre
nay cmplij." It is because this is the ease thst the or«tor is able to smaj,
** Like a wizard, (he world of the beart;
To eall ap its svaabiBe or drew down its sfaowert.**'
We deem it of paramouBt importance at a time like the present, when a cardeas sad
meretricious wordiness so frequently passes current as oratory, to dwell at some leagth oq
the rhetorical characteristics of true and genuine Eloquence. Clumsy Teibesitj, u
elaborately unnatural excess of ornament, violent and unwanantable perrersions of coouxMa
ibrma of speech, uttered with sbvenly fluency, are so easily and rapidly acquired by those
who frequent debating societies and public meetings, that people are apt to mistake th»
power of expressing words eztemporarily for oratorical talent. This is a mistake of a
perilous and destructive nature, — an error which cannot be too soon unlearned. The gmt
problem presented to the orator is — ^given an important truth or principley to find tbs:
avenue to the mind in which the fewest obstacles are likely to be offered, and the means of
entering thereby with irresistible force. Some men are chiefly accessible through the
intellect; others through the imagination; and others, again, through the will and tbe
emotions. So to measure and amn^s the several items of an argument that each of these
different sorts of people shall be kept actively and enexgetically reflective upon that girec
point, and yet be brought to an unanimous opinion regarding the accuracy of the speaker's
thoughts on the given topic, is an immensely difficult task, only to be fittingly attempted
by those who have sternly disciplined their minds in the processes of logic and the graces
of imaginative literature. It is not sufficient that an orator should never feel the waat of
a thought or a word; it ib the thought and the word, in fitting time, place^ and coUocatioiL
that constitutes true Eloquence. All men are speakers; but how few are eloquent! AH
men express thought; how few express worthy thoughts worthily! MaUer and eMmcr
fittingly wedded together — ^noble thoughts, correct reasoning, and worthy motives, energised
by earnestness of purpose, harmonized by exquisite artistic skill, and beautified by a hni-
liant imaginaiion — ^how irresistibly potent! Listen to the vcuce of Wilberforoe pleadii^
the cause of the slave, Ghatham*s speech on the American war,. Burke*s intense efeqseoce
during the impeachment of Hastings — hear Masillon or Whitefield preaching, Luther defr-
ing the Diet of Worms — ^follow Peter the Hermit through the nations of Europe while be
rouses the millions of its population to an almost frenzied enthusiasm, xwulting in the
Crusades — stand with Paul, the christian orator, in the palaoe-hall of Agrippa, and mark the
effects produced there — enter the Soman senate when Cicero brsnds the infamous CatsHoe
as a conspirator— breathe the air of Academe, and let the soiuide of Plato's earnest di»-
conrse stir you to admiration of intellectua] punraits-^or mingle with the ennrd of Athcss
RHXTOBXC— XO. XXIV. 448
wlieii tbe fltgeiiy impetooos eloquence of Demostbenes peals in the qiu?ering ear, uatil
each man, as if inspired, sboats wildlj forth, *' Let ua march againat Philip" — and then
yoa will thorooghlj fetl the glorj and the gundeor of th&t tranacendent combination of
geniii* and caltore which is designated Eloquence — and then yon will adequatelj appreciate
the magnificence of the affects pcodncible bj words, when
" They lire, they speak, they breathe,
Wafitt from the tonl, and ftolhAd to ito irce."
Eloquence is tbe result of ardent feeling; the style of composition most, therefore, cor-
respond to tbe state of mind from which it has its origin, — now rhythmical and ornate, again
concise and abrupt, then irregular and loose — changing with the change of thought. It
has, of course, many qualities in common with polite literature, — grace, liveliness, emotire
power, and imaginative elegance; but it has also many peculiarities, — cadence, varying
with the thought expressed, complex and sudden changes in style, diffusive prominence
and brief abruptness, amplification, omamentstion, and conciseness. Its chief object being
to impress tbe emotions, and by this means to persuade the will, it is more copious, rich,
and forcible, less regular and systematic, more lunplified and ornate, than other didactic
prose. The thoughts must be of a nourishing quality, although tbe serving up must be
rtcherche. Calnmess and dignity, majestic energy of movement, grace and ornament,
a]^;teals to the passions and addresses to the understanding, delivered in an easy, fluent,
unembarrassed way, are tbe true and essential elements of succ^usful oratory.
The ancient rhetoricians, generally, adopted a classification of parts of which a good
disconrse should consist. In this we shall, to a certain extent, follow their example. We
shall not, however, enimciate these as invariable component parts of an oration ; but shall
premise that these divisions, or any combination of the whole or a part of these, may be
made available, at tbe discretion of the speaker, viz.. Exordium or Introduction, Xar-
mtion, Division, Argument, Befutation, and Peroration or Conclusion.
1. Exordium or Introduction. — ^Whatever is indefinite or indeterminate causes
bewilderment; a clue must therefore be given to the purport of our discourse. We must
endeavour to initiate our address in such a manner as shall at (mce please and excite,
conciliate and interest, remove prejudice and secure favourable attention. These are the
purposes of ea»rdia. To release the mind from suspense, and intimate the subject, with
the particular point of view about to be assumed, in order that the hearer may, in part,
foresee the pathway to be taken, and be prepared for regarding with due attention the
indications given — to excite an interest in the topic about to be discussed — to place the
ipeaker on friendly terms with his bearers, and to remove prepossessions against one-self,
are all legitimate purposes for which exordia may be employed. The mind must be
prepared before it can usefully and pleasurably exercise its functions. According to the
purpose in view, so must the preparation be; therefore the exordium ought to vary
with the nature of the topic to be considered.
2. Narration^ — A short statement of the facts which concern the question — a detail
of the circumstances implied in the case, or of tbe occasions of the address, is generally
oeeessary to convey to the mind a knowledge of tbe condition in which the topic is taken
Dp. This should be aimpk, candid, orderly, and plaosible, — skilfU in arrangement, clear
444 BBETORIO. — NO. ZZXY.
and comprehensible In execution — ^based upon Bome eaailjr.nnderstood maxim, and oo&-
dncted with deliberation, honesty, and care.
3. DiYisiON. — To aid comprehension and assist the memoij, a careful, distinct, sad
exhaustive division is highly advantageous. To indicate wherein we agree and wherein we
differ from others, as weU as to inform our hearers regarding the several propositbns whkh we
shall attempt to substantiate, division is highly necessary. Our division should be predse,
methodical, and distinct, free from circumlocution and ambiguity on the one hand, and
over- refinement and tediousness on the other. Each preceding observation should lead to
the other as its natural sequent, and the transitions from one to another ought to be skil-
fully managed. Bepetition ought to be avoided; and a complete, though perspicuous state-
ment ought alone to be aimed at. To be accurate without stupid formality, and oom-
prehensive without being dry, jejune, or overly minute, are matters reqmring diligent
attention and careful practical evolution. An exact logic is the best guide to dlstinctnes
of division.
4. Akgumemt. — The science of argumentation is the study of the logician: the pnc>
tical employment of argument is the business of the rhetorician. The laws of evidoce an
elaborated by the former; the presentation of any topic in such a manner as shall exhibit
its relation to these laws is performed by the latter. Logic proves; rhetoric moves. As
orator must be well learned in the various kinds of evidence, their several laws, and their
respective value and importance, — what constitutes demonstration, what proof, and wht!
subjects respectively require these, — what topics are amenable to the laws of testimoor,
and what to the rales derivable from experience, — ^which processes of nature are unifocm,
and which various, — and which of these, or which peculiar combination of these, shall best
suit the purpose which he has in view while speaking; but he must know much more, vi?^
how to arrange these so as most efficiently to gain his point, — ^how to exhibit them in their
most forcible aspects, — how to indicate most strongly their reference to the qoestics
engaging his attention. Bhetoricians generally recommend that the arrangement of proofs
should resemble the order of an army in the field of battle; the first charge should be
made by the most vigorous and the bravest; the common herd should sustain the miii-
fight, while the reserved corps ought to be held back till the most favourable mooBect
arrives, when victory has to be definitively gained, or a retreat requires to be manfollr
covered. Good sense, logical skill, simplicity, and precision, ought to characterize itt
argument.
5. Refutation. — ^Few truths are so palpable as to be instantly receivable by the misd.
Truth and error are commingled in the thoughts of men. Hence few truths exist withcot
being opposed by the counter-statements of error. The orator must, therefore, not od-t
establish and support his own cause, but must carry aggression into the camp of tin
enemy. Refutation must be employed to show the inconsistency, illogicalitT, erroneoas-
ness, or improbability of the opinions of our opponents. It requires coolness, dexteritT.
honesty, readiness, and a keen appreciation of the inconsistent.
6. The Perouation. — The quickly-shifting panorama of thought which the onto:
presents to the intellectual vision is apt to fade fipom the memoiy and loM its distinctMSs:
hence the advisability of a brief recapitulation — summaiy yet complete. Here the jf»c/
charff€ is to be made, — ^the laurels of triumph to be gained, or the contempt which accac-
RHBTORIO. — NO. XXIV. 445
panies defeat to be encoantered. Here, then, the orator sboold rise to dignitj of address,
richness of diction, brilliancy of figure, boldness of conception, — to impassioned energj,
earnest purpose, and potency of will. All the powers of ffaooght, all the graces of fancy,
all the stirring emotions, all the artifices of delivery, and all the most impressive elements
of composition, most be actively, efficaciously, and combinedly employed; while appeals
most, as occasion requires, be made to all that is capable of exciting emotional activity—
to Loye and Hatred,
" Fear and trembling Hope,
Silence and Foresight; Death tlie skeleton,
And Time the shadow."
The ancients divided Eloquence into three kinds, — Demonstrative, Deliberative, and
JndidaL The first has for its object praise or blame in reference to present time, and
includes funeral orations, invectives, panegyrics, inaugural addresses, impeachments, &c.;
the second exhorts or dissuades with reference to the future, and includes moral lectures,
and all other instructive oratory; the third relates to accusation or defence with reference
to time past, and includes all pleading, whether of or on account of plaintiff or defendant,
and its objects are, either the attainment of justice, or the restraint of injustice. Although
these three sorts of Eloquence are demarcated in theory, they are very seldom found strictly
differentiated in practice. Praise, utility, and justice generally centre in the same point, and
blame worthily reverts upon inutility and injustice. Hence these three forms of Eloquence
are often practically unitable, and are frequently more efficacious when thus united.
Modem Eloquence is divisible into four sorts, viz., the Senate, the Bar, the Pulpit, and
the Platform. Eloquence is modified in its characteristics by the modifications which
take place in the circumstances of society. The extension of intellectual culture renders
men less pervious to emotional excitation, and confines their oratorical displays more within
the limits of business, fact, and reason.
1. Senatorial Eloquence. — Deliberative eloquence, as exemplified in our parlia-
moitary assemblies, has varied c(msiderably with the changes of the times; at one period
aententious, serious, and emotive; at another florid, imaginative, ornate, and speculative;
now tame, frigid, commonplace, and conversational. Nowhere can greater opportunities
arise for the display of copious information, clearness of exposition, the enunciation of general
principles, gracefulness, enthusiasm and energy of style, elaborate argumentation, dignity
and richness of diction, polished wit, satiric irony, impassioned plenteousness of imaginative
illustration, and graceful delivery; yet nowhere is there less attention paid to the culture
of the persuasive powers of Eloquence. Cogent reasoning, sprightly pointedness, ardent
impetuosity, idiomatic though chaste and classical expression, a playful rather than rich
imaginative tinge, subordinated to a business-like, mercantile formality, seems to be the
highest aim of our senatorial orators.
2. The Eloqushcb of the Bar. — Legal disquisition is usually grave, sedate, precise,
and argumentative. As the judicial eloquence of our country generally subserves the two*
fold purpose of exhibiting to the judge the grounds of the several pleas, and the instructing
of the jury regarding the facts and principles involved in the various cases, the style of
speaking best adapted, in general, for those who are training themselves for the legal
profesnon, seems to ns to be one which combines simplicity with dignity, precision with
446 buetouo. — wo. xxnr.
animation, learning witk naSbUf-mergtHie laagnaft, logical woeongj wiUi
BMot, and iBsUucUvo deameM witli conoiBatory nxteaty. It if trao tlMfe m tke
day jadicial prooedore demaiidB greater attentioD to eonvctBess and iliifitiii than to
doqnnice or taste; bnt we are of opmioB that iMorical skill ia nefw tmXtj
patiUe with precision and diligenoe in bnsuiMB, or tbat penirtent adMtj nUch
dispatch; while we are oonTineed thaik a tasUfU, aeoanKle, and ■imlairtoij onili
pleading is much more likelj to attain and sostain attention, than tha fiitigiiag iynie
ness of an nntramed speaker, or the somnific monotonj of an nnartistic doention.
3. Pulpit Eloquence. — The highest tfaemesy the aost adlemn topics, the most
momentons concerns of hamanitj, all combine to offer the eloquent dlfine the chdoest
opportunity and the freest scope for the emplojmeflt of rhetocical skilL The warrtdiifw
of the subjects, the magnitude of the interests at stake, the inpreasiTe truths to be
enforced, the sublime aims to be imparted, tha awfid wannngs to be gircB— Time, H^
piness, Eternity, Heatba, Hell, Christ, God — are not these ideas specially adapted, fiaa
their emotional relations, to elidt the loftiest, subfimeaft, most pathoBe eloquenoe? ** A htL
sonl." Is there not in these words an agony beyond the most intense doqiieooe adeqaatelf
to express? '* A redeemed souL** Is there net in these few sjllaUes an eleqnence, to giva
full efficacy to which words fail? What, then, shdl we say of Ood and Eternity, er ef
that awful cry which erer mast resound from the tme preacher's lips — ^^To jaigiuwt,
ho"? What Toice is potent enough to pierce the manunon-worBhippei^s lieKt, ''^eif as a
dead adder*8 eai^ to all dinne influences? What human tones are deficions enough te woe
the licentious rereller in fmbidden jejs from the enttoeraents of tlie hdl-fi^F — pleMve?
What sounds shall thunder eflicaeiously to the scofier^s oonsdence, or Ibe profligaterB seaiei
heart, or the sensualist's dead soul, or the drunkaid^s pandyaed moral natme^ or the
gambler's gangreened and cancerous spirit — " It is appointed unto all men snee ts dia^
and after death the judgment"? What light can be employed sdceseefidly in ilhnnatiag
the darkened understanding of the ignorant, " the bloodahot hiindoess ef luait* in tbe
ambitious, the moral gloom of the liar, the hypocrite, and the fiiarisee? Hunan Buquiaw
may do much; but for these purposes ^ an unction from en faigli,'* and the Holy One nke
dwdleth there, is spedally needful. GiuTity, rifid ooneeptien, a realiaing im i^liiiiii, a
simple but polished style, unity of design, scriptural alhisiona, arapUficatien, 'variety, aol
methodical exposition, seem to ns to be the kumon requisites for a snooeaiM pulpit
The higher dhme agencies lie beyond <our present prorinee, and the seepe ef
prelections. Pulpit Eloquence nay be didactic, hortatory, or critical, or a neialiiaalliai tf
an these.
4. The Eloquence or trs Platfobm. — ^New phases and devdopmenta «f aoeiety
require new appliances and finns. The right of puUio meeting whicii we faj&f has
originated a form of Eloquence little known in andeat times, and little petmitted in ethtf
lands; this we haye denominated tihe Sk>qoeaee of te PhUftm. TVs demands neilha
the restraint of the Senate, the fbrmafity ef the Bar, nor the gnmty of the Pdpit ft
tetaitts the better qualities of eadi without their aerstml feadfartUgt*. U is nn
energetie, less regular, more emphatie, and leaa giwre tfami these. It appeals nm
Korably to the frelings, makes wdder ineursioas into the territories of im^miiaB, k
mere omats, rind, pieturesqve, doetohy, and pepniariKd. It has a wMer a^gt d
BHEToma— no. xziv. 447
topics, a greater number of tooes, a less harmonious and skilful structure, and a greater
propensitj to
" Tottch the strings
Of that mTsterious instniment, the soul,**
than the other species aforementioned. It can scarce! j yet be said to hare attained a
distinctive character, although it might be ixmghlj deoMrcated from the others bj saying
tliat it is the common-sense view of public affairs presented in a more emotional than
intellectual aspect-— «b appeal from special culture to the large iastiacts of hununit j.
We cannot better embody our -parting admonition en Eloquence than by adopting the
expressive language of Bailey's ** Festus :" —
" Study tt»e right ; attempt the high ; seek oat
The soul's bri^t padi ; and since the soul is fire
or heat iataHigential, torn it af
To the aU-ftrtherly eouroe of light and life.
.... Keep ttiy spirit pure
Trom worldly taint bj the repellanC strength
Of rirtae. Think on noble thoughts and deeds
Ever. Count o'er the retaiy of Truth ;
And practise precepts which are proven wise.
It matters not then ivhat thou fearest Walk
Boldly and fearlessly in the light thou hast; —
There is a hand adore will lead thee on."
The word ** Farewell r must linger on our lips a Frttle. We cannot part with the last
«f this series of papers without a sigh. How many memories of the past lise up before
US now! some
« Such as the heart delights in — and records
Vithin how silently— in more than words ! "
and others at which the mind
" Turns but to start, and gazes b«t to grieve."
Ob tlMse, however, we oare not bow to dwell, but would rather solace ourselves with thfl
fond hope that in our past laboors we have, in some measure, been succesafol in adai-
justering to the healthy intellectnality of our readers. We thank you, dear readers, fir
yaai patience and attention during the past; and, though we cannot see
•<Throu|^ the dim curtains of Futurity,"
wa hope to meet with you aH again, and to be welcomed and encouraged then witli the
same kindly indulgence as we have heretofore received. Adieal and may a happy new
year be allotted to jou aH
448
WHICH WAS TBB OBBATEflT POET, MILTON OB SHAKSPKBB?
WHICH WAS THE GREATEST POET, MILTON OB SHAESPEBE ?
SHJlKSFEBS.— BEPLT.
" Of this Shaktpflre of oart, perhaps the opinion
ooe sometimes hears a little idolatrously expressed
is, in fact, the right one ; I think the besi judg-
ment, not of this country odIt, bnt of Europe at
large, is slowly pointing to the oonolusion, that
Shakspere is the chief of aU poets hitherto ; the
sreatest intclleet who, in our recorded world, has
left record of himself in the way of literature."—
T. CaHjfle,
*' His characters are like watches with dial-plates
of transparent crystal ; they show ^ou the hour
like others, and the inward mechamsm also is all
▼iaible." — Qotthe on Shaktpere.
"The luiique character, and apparently inex-
haustible significance of Shakspere's art, gives it
a perennial and increasing interest to the erilie;
the longer he gazes, the vaster seems the expanse
which he desires to measure ; the more deeply he
sounds, the fiuther does he appear to be horn
ascerUuiing the ultimate depths of that spirit
whose plenary artistic inspiration makes it almost
an irreverence to name the name of Shakspere in
the same sentence with that of another poet or
artist."—" North British Review;' No. 23, p. 115.
In OTir opening article we abridged much,
and left out more, that we had to say on
this quefltion; not, howerer, without the
hope of presenting to onr readers, on some
fatnre occasion, this many- phased poet in
other marked aspects of poetic supereminence
to Milton. This has not fallen to our lot;
we can bat refer oar readers to the above
extracts as worthy of severest analysis and
deepest thoaght, and proceed at once to the
Tarioas topics of onr reply. We have ob-
served the progress of the debate with
growing interest, and with diverse feelings
and convictions. Much has been advanced
by oar opponents that we esteem invalaable
trnth, and mach that appears to us grave
error and meaningless eologium upon Milton.
Thus ooDscioos, we care not that oar hope
has not been realized, not less so since we
deem it onr daty to enter the arena of debate,
and meet oar personal opponents, H. B. and
B. W. P., on their own grounds of asstmiption
or attack, assoring them that oar only weapon
shall be logic, and oar spirit candid, though
unsparing withal. We shall not hesitate
also to characterize the defects, as they
appear to us, of the other articles in fitvour
ofMUton.
The article signed H. B. descrres primarr
notice, as it presents several salient punts «f
defect in logic and part truth. We give it;
and in doing so would expre» our disgust it
its prevailing characteristic, which we sbsll
denominate vaquci^fied egotism. The cele-
brated J. Foster, one of the ablest reviewen
of his day, in his critique on Mudfoni*s ''Life
of Cumberland,'' has many pertinent remarks
on this literary egotism, or the great "I"
and important "me," which we deem as
strictly applicable to H. B.*s article as to the
work which called them forth from his able
pen. He prescribes a very likely plan to get
rid of "this perpetual and ofTensive pro-
minence of — myself — as the authority, tbe
oracle, the Apollo, to be personally recognised,
and reverently thought of, by all the readen
and hearers of the sentence and the opimoo."
Tbe first step of which is, to use Ins own
words, " to get rid, as fast as possible, of tbe
vanity and self-importance itself,"* and thee
to exercise great vigilance in the suppressioo
of " the mighty pronoun, representative of
me.** Our readers will not consider us too
severe, when they learn that this " migfatj
pronoun" oocuzs in H. B.'8 article not less
than thirty-two times! t! and in many in-
stances in the most offensive promloeoce.
He, apparently with great humility, thus
compliments his predecessors on this sub-
ject:— " / am fur&er confirmed by tbe oeo-
viction that my predecessors, in their id-
mirable articles, have rather wandered nnicd
than fairly approached the question.* Tbe
truth of this we do not deny, mad suppose that
our opponents " ^iXaXi70i}c''and" L'Oaviier*
will be less likely to think themselves in the
right, when both "friend" H. B., and op-
ponents E. W. S. and others, think than
decidedly wrong. But we have now to do
with H. B., who has not improved his fneods*
position by this candid assertion, nettber
substantiated his own, since he has bimself
fallen into the same error of wandering!— to
wit, he proceeds immediatdy to h grots per-
version of our opening illnstration. We ait
WHICH WAS THE OREATKST FOBT, MILTOIT OB SHAKSPSRX?
44»
acciued of "intellectual presumption" for
asserting that we had risen to a stand-point,
aided by the sublime genias of Shakspere
(for this is the jost interpretation of our
words), from which we were enabled to look
upon all the poetic geniuses of the world,
fU qui infra suiU ! H. B., in order to render
bb charge of intellectual presumption plausi-
ble, would convey the idea that we had pro-
fessed to gain the stand-point by our own
power, not Shakspere's, — that the spiritual
elevation was attained unaided by his genius.
This is a gross perversion of our meaning.
We tnist H. B. did it honestly, through
ifDorance. If so, at whose door do^ the
(mrge of " intellectual presumption** lie, at
ours or H. B.'s? Not content with having,
like his predecessors, "wandered,** and to
a great extent, he, like a tangent, having
ODce touched the circle, or utmost limit of
oar subject, seems inclined to dart away
indefinitely. Accordingly, we find him thus
dealing with one of our articles on " Oaths,"
or " Invasion," in order to substantiate a still
heavier charge than " intellectual presump-
tion," viz., "dogmatic assertion and bold
abuse." We leave the readers of our articles
to decide this charge pro se, as it is quite
foreign to our subject, assuring H. B., how-
ever, that we have nothing to recant on that
subject ; and further, that if he expects
£. W. S. to treat him, after such gross mis-
representations or blunderings, as he does
tbose who oppose him fairly, he is mistaken
indeed.
H. B.*s next step is to assert that Chan-
niog*8 definition of poetry might by him
(H. B.) be equally and easily shown to be
applicable to Milton's ; but he does not attempt
this, even for our enlightenment This ap-
pears somewhat like the dogmatic assertion
against which he has just been cautioning
the readers. Let theory and practice ever
go together. He expresses his regret that
one writer " should apparently rest much of
his reasoning on the assumption that the
better man is the greater poetf" and, to the
reader's surprise, he devotes nearly half of
hb long article to the same moral question,
with, as fiur as we can judge, no other object
than to prove the same point! He dwells
considerably on the moral tendency of Shak-
spere, and illogically enough concludes, that
because Milton wrote about covetousness, or
self-aggrandizement, as carried on in heaven,
and Shakspere about the same as carried on
in the Danish court, the moral tendency ni
the one production must be pure and holy,
and the moral tendency of the other impure
and unholy. The position is as untenable as
it is illogical and absurd. Milton is as open
to abuse among men as Shakspere. The
murder, the incest, the treachery, the fatalism,
the madness, the suicid^ held up to our view
in "Hamlet," could be put to no greater
abuse than the sentiment expressed in those
awful words, —
" Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.**
A depraved mind is just as likely to imbibe
the sentiment of Milton's fiend as of any in
" Hamlet" Is not the latter the d^dlier of
the two?
It were just as reasonable for H. B. to
argue thus about the sacred scriptures, and
to conclude that, because they contain so
many awful accounts of war, of murder, of
incest, of adultery, and of sin and guilt of
every enormity, they must have a bad ten-
dency on the reader's mind. H. B., we can-
didly think, sees as little into the merit of
Shakspere as he does into his philosophy,
which teaches us to find "good in every-
thing," in harmony with that profound moral
axiom, " To the pure all things are pure,"
and vice versd.
Leaving the moral question, and H. B.'8
impotent agitation of it, there is little else to
read or answer of this article, which, in jus-
tice to his reproved friends, ought to have
been to the point It is in the literary life
as it is in the moral; we oftimes fall into or
practice those things we are so ready to
reprobate in others. Of the former, does not
H. B. furnish a striking instance?
In a fact-defiant spirit he surmises, " Had
Shakspere been surrounded with such adverse
circumstances (as Milton), we can scarcely
believe he would have left much" witness to
"his fame." If the history of Shakspere
demonstrates one thing palpably, it is the
reverse of this, that no genius ever established
such a fame in the midst of such opposing
circumstances.
" The consideration of their circnmstances
should lead every impartial judge to rank
Milton as the greater poet, even if he esteemed
his poetry inferior to that of Shakspere.**
This anomalous sentence demands analysis.
What were the circumstances under which
450
?
IClUairvite ''PuB4neLMt,"«idebdBpBn
las <dnuBflAic 'VoriB?
It appean from tka mnt — tlmilie m-
dial IfUtmi «aMBivcd tibe Maa cf
kis £Biia bf vritiqg aa epe
and ibr the aooaBipliBhft at hm
gnat pvpaee 1m tntvailad to varioos parte
«f tha CoatinBBt, levnad oany kagnagca,
aai liAarionaly ealled tha baaatiea «f each, —
gava kaneelf op ftr yeaa to ataiy, explored
the Test fieUa ef Eagliah, Bemaa,aiftdQreciao
literature; added to which, a dafaat tihaer-
valion of nature in her most magnificent
aspects. Ultimatelj we find him deroted to
Mb gveai wnk for yeaa ia. aalitiide and no*
tliaa^t. Thmt were kia fnicnm-
.' We kaow sot tiiai thej ooaM hare
been more favourable. His blindaeas, on
tibe whole, advanoed bis poipeee^ ttr the
l^eat prabafafl^j ia that, haid it net been for
tkataiiiotioB, he woald have been aa eogaged
■1 pnUie life and poUtioiU warfare that be
woold have nerer foand tiMe aafflnent for
bii elabomte daeiga.
In the ciicamatiBQea which atteadad
Ghabapere we fiad enentially the rarerae of
all thifl. '^ AJaal (aays iotb who apprahaaded
the peet% oiffoamstaneea and mightj geaioB)
Shakspen bad to wiite for tke Glabe play-
hooae: bia great aoal bad ta crush itadf, as
it could, into that and no other moold." Se
Indd a passage, in contrast with oar oon-
deaaed view ef MiHon's aaoasataBoes, aeeds
little fionnent What doas not rise out of it»
•aggeatiw «f the graataeas «f thai geains
irfaieb,aflder aoch " cramping cireuaatanoea,"
amita thiaugh daunatic fame tbase ** bursts
af radiance," ** that oana upia y«u like
apleadonr ant «f bearcnr Tndj <f Sbak-
epere we aiay say, ditjeeta wuaitn am all
tkat we find «£ htm ia Uteratare; yet what
ftagmentsi of tbsBDsdi«s irarida; heights,
^Bptba, of thonght aad beauty, that ataad
forth to our view Hka aana ia the glawii^g
aoBfiarc ef the empyxeaal
Let the reader now nflect en Hi B.*a de-
i all this dneoBiataatial avidcaoe,
that becaase Milfean and fihakipeee
wrote under the abore-mentionad iadispaUble
dmnaataneea, ev«ry impartial jadge, though
aoariaoed «f Shakapera's paetic aaperierily,
et^ not ta admit iti If thia is net tbe
1ia^|kt af absurdiity and aa-aaasoa, wa knew
aatwhatia.
liius kam we bat kiMAy cmamntad an
H. B.'a waadariags loand or away tnm tba
sabjaet U which ha haa devoled only Jm
oolaawia «f bia article, leaving scarcely
ta the aetatd point, on whict^ aa the
might eqpaot, wa hmra Uttla to aay, finaa its
cooaef neat ftrem^ aad naaseidaUe ^aper-
fieiaUi^. H. B.'a definitioa of poetry ia tnic,
as far as it ^oas; bat it is onl^ half tntb,
and hence arrer. " The object of poetry is
simply to affind {daaaare, and not inatruc*
tioB." Is be not awan that be deniea tba
primaiy priacipla oa whioh Ifilton'a poetk
fmae atanda, to which ha givea the most
'ked prsaiiaanoe ia tbe opening of hia fint
« That to Om heif^ ef *k ftPeat
Z ■Ds^eaMttElnaal Proviienar,
Agyi jostiry the wtya of God to man."
If H. B.*B definitien of poetry be eorrcct,
tbe fame of MUton is a nytk, becanae based
OB a wrong pnnoi]^e. This we deny wi Ms.
Bfilfcon^s object was more to wutrmel tkaa to
plesae ; and so for he apprehended the Vica-
tioa of poesy, aad made poetical use «f it it
"iVadiae Lost* Horaee towbea as tfart
tbe objeet of poets is twofold: —
*' Aut prodeaie Toluat, ant ddeotare^ poetaa.*
This palpable defect ia H. B.'a eotimata 4tf
poetry, partieolarly lGltaa*s, we might, in-
deed, hare used as a mighty weapon of aUaek
taken from bia own reeoaioea. With lus
definitien of poetry, he ekdam for Uiltm
poetie aaperiority to Shakspen. Wa aevff
yet met with a person who reduced the ts^
ziUe magnificence of ** Paradiae Loot" to »
mean a standard as to say, after perasiif
aay part of it, " It haa a veiy pleaaing effoet
oa tbe mind." Sarely H. B. read it to 117
little aervice, by way «£ aetf-iHaminattea, if
aufik was tbe result of hia pernaaL Bd
IGlton of thia reaooroa, and he is no lei^
to be eansidered worthy of aren oomparissa
with the world's poet JBadboe ''Paradisi
Loat" to H. B.'8 atandaid, and it ia ao ki^
poetry. We are amaaed to find Ifilfioa arf-
ferii^ aaek saocilege at bia pBiifemtJ £deaft
kaada!
In the tfases af our ether e|fKaMats, «•
are kaH7 to aay that a milder tnataient k
reqaired, and one, if space peimttted, cbip
xaeteriMd with aeknowledgmeato of nsdt
aad ma kteiary inn^L WeadmireaMoi
thoi^kt and foir {day; U axerta a bsakl^
em the auad af aviqr «u^
macm wxb the o«kate0t fokt, miltov or shakbpbbs?
451
This we ftid in B. W. P.'f ■rticle
for Xorember. He opeae with man j renmrkt
en criticinB, mad the tnM or false gpiiit of
critieiMn, wHh whiek we perfcetlj agree;
amd diaplays tbroogkeot eoneidemUe taet
aad inaaglit ia the eondoct of Us deiieDce of
IfiltoiL Fretn the rerj eooditiona ef oar
debate, on either side ef the qnestion we are
set in oomparatife opposition to one of these
maater-eparits, an opposition altogether
fiareign and Alien to onr feehngt. Thoogh
we assign the poetic saperiwity to Shakspere,
lIHton is Doi depreciated in onr estimatinw.
He is dear to us beyond all utterance. He
has infosed into us much that is priceless
and soul-precions, — much, we oftimes think,
that immortality itself may purify, but never
obliterate. The naming <^ the Wner part
of B. W. P.*s article called to mind this
thought, and broi^ht home jet again our
sympathies with the great epicist with
greater enthusiasm. That B. W. P. should
devote so much of his space to this point we
think not strictly right, considering his
position ; yet we cannot but exult under its
happy influence, and exculpate lum on that
Bcore. He proposes the question with ad-
mirable tact, we need scarcelj say in pal-
pable contradiction of H. B.'s definition of
poetry. He moves on the broad principle
that both Milton and Shakspere were the
Wnefactors of humanity. How? Bj being
its hest teachers. But here ends our har-
SQonj of thought B. W. P. considers Milton
the greater benefactor of the two.
As our reply must be brief, we wiH thus
enAM)dy our objections: — First The sphere
of IfiUon's epic is too £sr removed from
Iranuui experience. Secondly. His persni-
ages, or characters, have too much of thjs
enpematuraUsm of evil or good spirits, or
fllnatrate abstraet qualitaes, rather than
appear to the mind as free, isolated, rational,
and intelligent members of the divine govern-
ment In fact, they appear rather aabser-
yient to a given scheme, than the direct
cA>jects of the scheme itself. In the Sfaak-
sperian drama we find the poet, as teacher,
iabonriDg under ae soch terioas dimdvan-
tages. The sphere of his actioa lies within
the circle of human eKperience. His per-
•oaages are from onr very midit; and when
be passes beyond human limits into the
anpamataral, he iisila of hit object by so aiacA.
We see embodied in bit diaracten onr «ini
virtues or vices. If we are wise, we learn te
cultivate the former and abhor the latter.
We have a personal interest in all he brings
before ns. In this respeet the dramatk wUl
ever be saperior te the epic. Notwithstaad^
ing all this, Shakspere avails himself of the
illnstraikm of the divine attrihntes— jnstao^
mercy, and goodness — in the farthenmee o£
man's moral ejceellenoe. These are the
grounds of oar objection to B. W. P.'s posi-
tion, and which we shoold further illasiratei
did onr spaoe pennit
la eonclttsion, we shall briefly review the ar-
ticles signed " L'Oavrier" and *' ^tkaX^B^c-'*
In the fanner of thass we have a sad cofr*
founding of the two subjects, moral eharaetv
and poetic power. This characterizes the
entire prodnctkm, and is a grand defect; for
it seems te have had great w«ght in fail
decjsiea. Let the reader expunge the quea-
tion of morals from the article, and what
remains bnt the bare assertion of MiUon's
superiority? There is an evident discre-
pancy between his definition of what '*a
divine poem" ought to be, and the one for
which he claims the highest honours,— -one
which, as in H. B.*s, nullifies the claim aho-
gethec The discrepancy is twsMd : — Fiiat
**L*Ouvrier^ affirms ef this divine poem,
" Its character must be varied and consistent
When our friend framed this model, he mast
have been conscious of what all critlciem
attests on the subject, — the iaooBsistfiBey of
one ef Milton's charactere, which is, doabt-
less, the greatest defect of the poem; we
mean the ckaracter of Satan, Again, he
adds: — ** The sentiments must bs varied
and snUime, elevated and purtT' Is nsi
''L'Oovrier" aware that the first book «f
" Paradise Lost" derives its ^andeur finm
the oratory ef £dlen spiritB, whose senli-
ments, however *^ varied and sublime,** oonJd
not he '* ekfxUed and pure," since intensely
indicative of fiercest hate towards the H]g^
est? This ideoj like lus deciaon, we thmk
sprang from the fatal error of eonfeaading
moral character and poetic power. Hond
purity is not the standard of deeiaion in thiB
debate; It hM nathiqg essentially to de witib
it The queetisn is not, Whieli was the iei<
ffMMf but, Which «le fre4K«* |K>«<' ^
for from **L'ODvrier** havii^ proved Miite
te be the greatest, be» like H. a, has nnlli-
fied his daon by his own de^itioa. Tha
acme of his error stands Svth in hii
452
WHICH WAS THB ORSATE8T POET, MILTOH OB SHAXSPKBX?
eluding sentence, the dedaction of which is
tmly illogical.
The same error characterizes the article
of ** ^iXa\fi9ric" though in a less evident
degree. He does not even attempt to show
Milton the greater poet by actual contrast;
but, after considerable rhapsody (''ah I" and
''ohT) on Milton, he abruptly turns to our
Shakspere, whom he thinks justly termed
''divine," and, afler agitating the moral
nion, concludes, because the Shaksperian
a is not so pure in some given instances
as an epic which embodies the Bible revela-
tions, its author cannot be the greater poet.
Such sophistry is an ancnnaly, indeed, in the
Brituh Controvertialittf the light of which
it cannot bide.
It is folly, indeed, to snbject an illogical
deduction to the readers of, and debaters in,
our magazine. ** ^cXaXi}^}/;" in conclud-
ing, really begins the inquiry: — " How, then,
can we say that the one (MUton) is a greater
poet than the other? By careful ezaauna-
tion?" The result, however, of this esami-
natioQ u too nnaatisfiictory and brief (being
put in nineteen lines, by way of dimaz I) to
convince any impartial reader. It asumes
that in Milton we find imagination and
beauty in the highest perfection. Unfortu-
nately, it ifi only an assomption, without the
shadow of a proof, and as such requires not
our time and space, as all assumptions, oo
the arena of debate, stand pro nUuh. Siak-
spere has given us the shadow of his suUime
and umivaQed geniua in bis own immortal
words ^—
" The poet's eye, in a fine frenxy rolling,
Doth glance ik«m heairen to earth, uom eailk
to heaven ;
And, aa imaginaiion bodies ftnrth
The form* of things vnknoifffn, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.**
Bttdnngham,
E.W.S.
HILTON.— BEPLT.
** Bashly, nor oftimes truly, doth man pai9 judg*
ment on hia brother;
For he seeth not the springs of the heart, nor
heareth the reasons of the ro'md."
af . F. Tupper.
" How charming is divine philoiophy I
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,
But musical oa is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetual feast of neotar'd sweets.
Where no crude surftit reigns." Jfitton.
We have given precedence to Milton, be-
cause his poetry indicates a genius purer and
more sublime than Shakspere's. We love not
the invidious comparison of great men; too
often one is exalted at the expense of truth,
and envious detraction mars the fair reputa-
tion of the other. It has been our care
studiously to avoid the abuse of our privi-
lege in the present debate, and we hope to
liave realized the happy discretion to
" Be calm in arguing ; for fierceness makes
Error a fhult, and truth discourtesy."
We presume not to Mow our Shaksperian
finends in all the airy flights of their many-
winged imagination. Prudence and reason
lestraln us from the pursuit of their erratic
vagaries, and limit us to the regions of com-
mon sense, while calmly inquiring vit k vi»
^th the topic of debate, What is Poetry ?
Philosophy? Genius?
£. W. S. has quoted from Channiog* a
definition of poetry (p. 300), in which he
says it ''has a natural alliance with oar
hegi afiections. It delights in the beanty
and sublimity of the outward creation, aui
of the soid, <md it hetpt fwJtk to lag
hold <m the fiUure UftT ''Cosmopolite*
says Cp« 421) that poetry is "the blushing
forth in transcendent truth and beauty." We
will categorize these definitions thus: Po-
etry is the expression of truth, beauty, and
sublimity in melodious language, so as to
excite the best a£fections of man. Philoso*
pby is either the sum of general principlei
or knowledge attainable^ or it is the systeo
of rules by which those general piindplei
or that koowledge, is attained; thns vt
read of
** Divine philosophyl by whose pore fight
We first disllnguiah, then ptirsve &e li^t;
Thy power the breast firom every errerfrecflk
And weeds out all iti vices by degrees."
Genius is that faculty of the miod by
which man produees original worics of art,
or makes new discoveries in scieoe^ or bj
which either science or art is advaaeed or
* See Chamdnffa "Essay on the Fecdett
Genius of Millon,'^p. 10.
WHICH WAS THE OBEATE8T POBT, MILTOlf OB 8HAKSPEBB ?
458
perfected bejond the beet eflforts of hie pre-
deoeeeon or contemporaries.
From the want of definite prindplee of
judgment in the arguments of our opponents,
we feel their criticisms upon Milton and
Sbakspere are calculated to mislead and
bewilder. It is our aim, therefore, to estab-
lish in the mind of the render certain "stand-
points," or intellectual points of distance, bj
which he shall be enabled to make an accu-
rate surrej of the poetical productions of
the
«< Dear sou of memory, great heir of fame/*
and he who carried
..." Nature lengths unknown before."
We shall thus render a practical yersion of
the figure produced by E. W. S., and become
the " chamois hunter;" subtending from our
little selves, by these helps, an angle which
shall include within its extremities the
mightiest geniuses of earth, and clearly in-
dicate their relative position in the temple
of fame.
The creative faculty of the mind may be
employed upon various, and even opposite,
qualities, and still be genius. Hence, men
have made "familiar as household words"
the phrases, pure and impure genius, low
and noble genius, &c. General principles,
too, may be founded upon truth or error;
and hence the philosophy of which these
r' iciplcs are the constituent elements may
true or false philosophy; may have the
physical and moral well-being of man for its
Tdtimatum, or contrariwise. But we have
seen that poetry is " the blushing forth of
transcendent truth and beauty, — it delights
in the beauty and sublimity of the soul;"
therefore, the true genius of poetry, and the
true philosophy of poetry, must be the crea-
tion and imitation of truthful, beautiful,
amiable, and holy objects, such as elevate,
ennoble, purify the soul, and fit it for a higher
and a holier state of being. The distinctive
characteristic of the greatest poetic genius
must then be the preservation in his writings
of the greatest measure of pure and holy
truth and dignity, of high moral purpose,
and the least measure, or entire absence, of
low, mean, and vicious thoughts or actions:
to these principles, the name, form, subject,
and melody of the poetry must be subjected.
Whether our Shaksperian firiends may be
willing or not to adopt the aeSf-efident in-
ferences to be drawn from these premises,
we feel assured they cannot, vrith any d^;ree
of success, dispute the premises themselves;
and we shall now proceed to show how, in
our estimation, they may be applied to the
works of our respective authors. Great
stress has been laid upon the peerless power
of Shakspere
** To hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to natoie,"
by which it is implied that Milton has not
correctly drawn his persons, nor truly de-
lineated their characters. Can the bold,
daring, and masterly leader of the fallen —
Satan himself — or his compeers, — the reck-
less, vindictive, and fierce Moloch; the in-
sinuating, deceptive, and vicious Belial ; the
calculating, selfish, avaricious Mammon, be
said to fall short of appropriateness in person
or character. Adam in his unique majesty
is perfectly and purely innocent; Eve, on
her first waking into life, is intensely beau-
tiful and artless ; both, in their conjugal
felicity, are full of the simplicity of inno-
cence; and in their fall, are natural exam-
ples of feminine curiosity and frailty, and of
masculine sorrow and sympathy.
And here we cannot avoid quoting from
Milton a few lines on Love, pure and holy,
as eminently contrasting with the loose
morals of Shakspere upon a similar topic
(see " Venus and Adonis," pp. 32, 34, 40,
45, &c., and " The Passionate Pilgrim Son-
nets," 2, 7, 9).
" Hail, wedded Love ! mysterious law, true source
Of human oflkprin^, sole propriety
In Paradise of all tUngs common else.
Far be it that I should write thee sin or blame,
Or think thee unbefitting holiest place,
Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets !
Whose bed is undefiled and chaste pronounced,
Present or past, as saints and patriarchs used.
Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings ;
Seigns here, and revels."
•* Paradise Lost,' book iv., Ime 750, &c.
.... *' Love refines
The thoughts, and heart enlarges, hath his seat
In reason, and is judicious, is the scale
By which to heavenly love thou majrst ascend.**
IlM, book viiL, line 569, See.
The persons and characters of the hea-
venly visitors of our first parents are equally
appropriate, and in exact imison with their
nature and occupation. A few points are
worthy of particular observation at this
stage. Shakspere detcribed mankind as he
454
wmuM "WMB m cntBA*
row, muroir
Mw them m tin wmH in wkieb be lm4f ht
iiiiaaili to peffectwa their wMi chMMtar,
shewing their nvitsfliddMMritt. Ifiltoii,
frim a few ioditliaet hate B the Mored acrip-
tafes, 11 win a A»|ltr ottfar e^ M^fi, aad
giTee them • chanelcr mod a nobler srhere
ef aetien. Shakspeve^e chanwIefB lepieeeat
a dan, bat Milton's a whole speeiea; 8hak-
apere imUaUa a naiurt vitibU and hwon ;
MUUm eretUei a notere, emd endoioa U with
a red% funiliar to all who know the Eng-
Urii tongue. Shakvpeie has, AMhIlesa, nwj
fine passages, and maT' haf« far ent^eBS aM
modern dramatic writen, and we gladfy ae-
evd to him the peetie hmrel of the EngBsh
drama ; hat onr present pnrpeee is not to
csmpare him with hn associates vpsB the
stage, bat to adjndge between him and that
man ef whom *«r it ikt prtrogmtwt to ttemd
of tkit honrfiremott ofoU mm m literary
AiKefy, and m> of cXL men, m tAs ^ower 1o
Aupire. Virtue geee omt efMm mt^ ethers.
LeaTTng oat of the Tiew the pivtensioas of
oar contemporaries, we think no nmn can be
named, wheoe mind still acts en the enlti-
rated intellect of Enghmd and America, with
an energy compaiable to that of MtRoa. As
a poet, Shakspere andoabtedlj transcends,
and far sorpasses him in his popnhvitj with
ibreign nations; hot Shakspere te a vows
merehfr ^^ '°^ ^*^ ^ ^'■* ^^^ ■*"fi
that sings, we know not. MUkm stamb
ereetf commandUng^ stUl VMtS/e, as m mam
among men, and reads the tawtofihe mersd
eeatimemt to the new >erw wmee, . • . . ITe w
identifiid m the mind vM ail select and
holy imageSf with the supreme interests of
iks hmnma rwe;"* SobUmiij, grandeur,
majesty, aad power, essential attributes
of the poetic creation, an so profosely eri-
dent ia all Ifiltoa's werksy that the milder
beanties ef his peetie genias are tee geacr-
ally ignored; the orerwhehning effiBCt of the
former incapacitates for the fall perception
of the latter. Sensibility in his poems has
a grand and mi^iestie oalmaessy and is free
£rom that ecstatic wildaess to be fimad In
the works of less gifted harder ibr example,
read the passages in ''Comns,** beginning at
lines »44 and 535. Then, amid raaitita.
dxDOQS iBstanees of his loring tendeness, we
mention « PkradieeLeet,'' book ▼. Knee 1—95,
and regret that space permits net of esr
* Oharteleristtes ofMen ef Genin/ toI. i. p. 197.
qnsth^^nMsepasMges at length. Wei^idht
mnltiply instances imd thsekea proof ad KU>
tsasf hot discrstiso suggests that the nader
may iod im tbs pcmsat ef Milton lilae plm-
sore to that wv hsre ftond, and ttaefoR
with joy we reftr him t» the
In oar opinimr, tiie fiteiary werld hstk
fall many a day been Shaksperiiing; the
learned conceits, sharp tarns of wit, and
weighty sentences, are e'en at the tongae's
end of erery peer lettered wight, bonowed
from their parent thinker, yet would not this
age brook the full measure of their author;
hence the oft-repeated disowning* of hu
worst pieces. The corrupt thoughts of hs
poems are more than realised in the corrupt
maimers, immodest actions, obscene expres-
sions, base cuuning and brutality of serenl
dramatic pieces ; e. g^ ** Pericles," ** Miea>
sure for Measure," and '* Titiis AndrenicaBb*
The unnecessary exhibition of impure scenes
in one, the badly-masked impurity of the
chief action in the second, the brutal cun-
ning and low depravity of the third, exem-
plified in the black-souled Aaron, the eoo^
deceptive villany of Tamora, and the jeis-
ture of these dark characters inherited bj
Chiron and Demetrius, with the eattia^,
maiming, mangling, and bloodshed of the
whole ^ot; in all these riolatiog ^Sba lawi
both of nature and art — ancient and nwdcnL
''Tragedy is an imitation of a worthy or
illustrious and perfect action, pftewwHag
magnitude, delivered in pleasing language;'
and ** Comedy is an imitation of more de-
praved characters; yet it does not iautate
them according to every vice, but acoordis^
to those defects alone which excite laughter.''
—Aristotle's "Poetics.* So we read in
Horace'b ** Art of Poetry*—" You mast aoC
bring upon the stage things fit only te bt
acted behind the scenes; and you must take
away from view many actions which dcgaat
description may afterwards deliver in pre*
sence of the spectators. Let not Medea
murder her sens before the people^ nor the
execrable Atreus openly dress humaa en-
trails.** These may be considered the casHS
of ancient poetie art, invested with tiieh^
est authority; and we are happy to M that
%m (he antbant
pnt«l
WHICH WAS THE OIUCATE8T POST, MILTOH OR SHAKiVSSB ?
455
oar views are supported by men venerable
as antiquity and learning can make them.
In conclusion, it may be interesting for ns
to cite a few opinions on oar aatbors. And
first we have Dr. Johnson, who says, **Shak-
spere, with his excellencies, has likewise
faults, and faults sufficient to obscure and
overwhelm any other merit. .... He sacri-
fices virtue to convenience, and is so much
more esreful to please than to instruct, that
be seems to write without any moral pur-
pose He makes no just distribution of
good or evil, nor is always careful to show in
the virtuous a disapprobation of the wicked.
.... He had no regard to dbtinction of time
or place, but gives to one age or nation, with-
oat scruple, the customs, institutions, and
opinions of another, at the expense not only
of likelihood but of possibility In tra-
gedy .... the effusions of passions which
exigence forces out, are, for the most part,
striking and energetic; but whenever he
soBdts his invention, or strains his faculties,
tlie offspring of his throes is tumour, mean-
ness, teiiousness, and obscurity.** Mrs. C.
Lennox says, ** The violation of poetical jus-
tice is not the only finult that arises from the
death of Hamlet; .... his revenge becomes
interested, and he seems to pmiish his uncle
rather for his own death than the murder of
the king his father. . . . The whole conduct
of the play ('Cymbeline^ is absurd and ridi-
enlons to the last degree; ... his ' Winter's
Tale* is greatly inferior to the old paltry
story that furnished him with the subject of
it.* Respecting the poetic genius of Milton,
Channing has many fine thoughts : we select
at random . — ** We would ask, in what age
or country has the pastoral reed breathed
such sweet strains as are borne to us on * the
oderiferous wings of gentle gales' from Mil-
ton's Paradise His numbers have the
prime charm of expressiveness. They vary
with, and answer to, the depth, or tender-
ness, or sublimity of his conceptions, and
bold intimate alliance with the soul
Milton's poetry, though habitually serious, is
always healthful, and bright, and vigorous.
It bas no gloom. He todc no pleasure in
dnnring dsffk pictares of life* hr he knew
by experience that there is a power in the
soul to transmute calamity into an occasion
and nutriment of moral power and trium-
phant virtue. We find nowhere in his writ-
ings that whining sensibility and exaggera-
tion of morbid feeling, which makes so much
of modem poetry effeminizing." In " Cha-
racteristics of Men of Genius" we read : ** As
basis or fountain of his rare physical and in-
tellectual accomplbhments, the man Miltea
was just and devout, He is rightly dear to
mankind, because in him — Knong so msaj
perverse and partial men of genius, — ^in hini
humanity rights itself; the old eternal good-
ness finds a home in his brea:»t, and for ones
shows itself beautiful. His gifts are subor-
dinated to his moral sentiments; and his
virtues are so graceful that they seem rather
talents than labours. Among so many coo*
trivances as the world has sees to mako
holiness ugly, in Milton, at least, it was so
pure a fiame, that the foremost impression
his character makes is that of elegance."
We have not followed seriatim the remarki
of our opponents through lack of courtesy or
want of compliment to them. We have
derived much pleasure onrsdves from the
course of reading and thought this debate
has imposed upon us, and doubt not that
they have done so likewise. We assure the
reader our object has been to find the truth,
and place H before him— our adjudicatoi^^
in an interesting manner; to vindicate the
genius of our incomparable Milton from that
slight which the tendencies of our age would
cast upon his fair fame. The diluted tnms-
lation of Germanisms has had a pernicious
effect upon the standard of literary taste;
but this fashion of thought having passed
its culminating point, and the good sense of
our countrymen having a practical tendenej
toward high moral sentiment, we may foirlj
expect, ere long, some gifted mind will give
to the world a code of criticism and taste, in
which tkepwittf of gospel per/ecthm will be
acknowledged as the primary element oftrtte
geniue. Then will jfilton be placed on the
pinnacle of fiune by the acclamation of an
admiring nation, who have dmnk deep at the
fount of his onpirmtion. L'Outsieb.
In forming a Judgment, lay your hevts void of foretakea opmtODS, else whatfoerer ii
done or said will be meMiued by m wrong role.— iSf r P. Skktey.
456
OUOBT THE LAW OP PRIMOOBinTUBB TO BE REPEALED?
:S^nlititB-
OUGHT THE LAW OF PBIMOGENITUBE TO BE REPEALED?
AFFIBMATIVS BEPLT.
Wb have no faith in B. S. as a politician.
The prindpte he U/s down, in his n^ative
article on this question, is one that demands
and obtains oor nnqoalified dissent Had
our great reformers began their respectiye
religions or political reformations with B.S.'s
self-complaisanoe and primary principle of
action, they had now but figured, indifferently
among this world's benefactors.
B. S. does not trouble himself with the
question of univerMd justice, which all law
should express, or with man*s inaUenable
and natural rights, which are at stake in
this question; but passing over these weigh-
tier matters, begins the discussion of the
merits of his political " anise and cummin."
This is not likely to advance ^ the interests
of truth in politics," B. S.'s avowed object
It is a great thing in religion and pohUos
to see error, and recoil therefrom in the way
of reform. Yea, is it not the first step to-
wards improvement? B. S. seems not to
admit this. *' We must," says he, " neces-
sarily tratV e, or, at least, modify the claim,
and content ourselves by enforcing on our
opponents, that however cogent their argu-
ments against primogeniture, it ought not
and ccmnot be abolished, until an efficient
substitute has been provided to replace it"
The conclusion we deny not, but the spirit
of self- isolation from the vitsi point at issue
ve execrate. Is not B. S. moz«lly bound to
state the nature of the law, good or hadj
rather than waive our arguments, however
" c(^ent," or the claims of humanity, how-
ever divine f From such a sentence, is it
not manifest, that if all the members of the
British commonwealth were to follow B. S.*s
principle out, that "an efficient substitute"
would never be found, simply and justly be-
cause never sought Such "resting upon
their (B. S.'s) arms," we think, considering
the question of national good, worthy of
comparison only to the apostate contentment
of ancient Israel, that called forth the pro-
phetic " Woer B. S. defends the "law;"
wxhes or modifes the most cogent arga-
ments purely on this ground. Were there
nothing higher and diviner among men thin
feudalism, which was but the embodiment of
that ignoble principle that physical might
is superior to moral and etenial rights-
were there no God-sent principles of truth,
love, and universal benevolence, — were there
no beauty and harmony in them, — in fact,
were there no Christianity in the world, to
redeem humanity from the trammels of all
error, we might, perhaps, be found contend-
ing in miserable fellowship with B. S. for the
non-abolition of the primogenial law. Bat
believing, as we do, that the perfection of
all human law consists in the embodying of
heaven's own principle, as it regards oq«
another, "Whatsoever ye would that meo
should do to you, do ye even so to them,*
we seek not *' to rest on our arms," whik
the opposite principle "forms part of the
very framework of society," so fully masi-
fest in primogeniture^ and trantportaiion at
home, or slavery abroad.
We deem it rather our duty to expose the
fallacy in fundamentis of the first, and the
folly of its defenders, — to point out itd eril
tendencies and results in our great social
fabric; thereby to arouse our countrymen to
acquiesce no longer in its existence, but, hj
sanctified exertion under heaven's given {^,
to seek its erasure from our great and f:\m-
ous national code, fully convinced that all his-
tory teaches that the abandonment of error is
the first step towards finding the truth ; that
as the gloom of the one breaks, the radiance
of the other dawns. To be brief, B. S. pro-
ceeds, with no small parade, to offer, as as
opening negative article, "a slight defence '
— a sUght one indeed!— at which we axe
amazed the m(»^ as proceeding from *'so
able a correspondent" B. S. forcibly brought
to our recollection one of the great Fosters
remarks, in his essays, we think as applica-
ble to primogeniture and B. &, as to epLscc-
pacy and H. B. It was to the eSkct that
some minds invest that which has antiquitj
00 its side with a peculiar coRtaponidii^
OUGHT THB LAW OF PBIMOOSSriTUBB TO BE BEFBALBD ?
457
sanctiij. The absnrditj of Bach illogical
dedactions we need not here expose. Hence
B. S. calls primogenitare *' a time-honoured
instltation, interwoven with the habits and
affections of society." If we are to under-
stand bj " honoured " established merely ; bj
" habits and affections," evil habits and de-
praved affections, B. S. is right, not other-
irise. Such honour, however, is not worth
parade, or such habits worthy of continu-
ance,— such affections worth cultivation, but
rice versa. The result of this advocacy
comes rather unexpectedly by way of ad-
mission, that primogeniture is not a good
institntion, to calling it an evil one, morally
and essentially, as there can be no neutral
ground for it to stand upon. This '^ slight
defence" begins with flagrant sophistry, and,
if we are to follow out his own deductions,
ends in gross absurdity. We would remind
B. S. that his arguments are much the same,
not one iota superior to those which have
been advanced in favour of slavery, episco-
pacy, or popery; or that the same might
have been, and doubtless were, used agamst
the ad}oUtion of Suttee, or Hindoo infanti-
dde; and that the weakness of his argu-
ments is highly indicative of the defenceless-
ness of his cause. B. S. denominates those
who advocate the abolition of the law " ex-
treme politicians," — a term indefinite indeed I
Did he mean red republicans or chartists?
We like plain writing, but in the absence of
that we must understand the appellation
comparatively. Let us see. Some politi-
ciana go so far as to prove a given institu-
tion " not good," and straightway set about
a *' slight defence" to perpetuate its evil
esdstence: this is one extreme. Other po-
liticians, however, having shown the given
institution to be radically wrong, straight-
iray advocate its abolition to the best of
their powers : this is another extreme.
YHiile we ore sorry to find B. S. in the one,
we may congratulate ourselves on being
in the other, as the most consistent, and
conclude that the greater the distance be-
tween us on this subject the better for our
honour in the unmistakable meaning of the
"word.
B. S.*s next step is to impress on his
readers that a gr^ chaiige in our laws
would create a great national excitement.
Every reader of history must know this to
ids content. Whenever tmth enters the
dominions of error, we expect victory for the
former, but never without a previous strag-
gle. WliatI and if in such a glorious world-
redemptive movement, a nation should trem-
ble convulsed in the very heart of it, or the
powers of darkness recoil for ever, is the
advocate of divine tmth to cease his advo-
cacy, or the proclaimer of universal justice
towards universal man to retire ? yea, more,
are both to say. We have come to the crisis,
and now we will turn renegade, desert our
poets, abandon our arms, because we fear the
Divinity in truth and justice intends to make
fallen man tremble ? Verily, no, B. S.I We
have a strong faith in but one conservatism,
that of truth and justice, for we know that
these sball hereafter knit together all nations
in a glorious brotherhood : whereas, the con-
servatism that pervades this article, and sits
enthroned among " a titled aristocracy," ad-
mits only just enough of these divine prin^
ciples to excite ceaseless antagonism.
We have not space to answer B. S. on ''the
right of property," it is somewhat foreign to
the point at issue — the disposal of individual
possession by law. Does B. S. presume so on
our ignorance, or glory in his own, as to think
we shall acquiesce in his assertion that " pri-
mogeniture is only a ctutonif not a law" Is
there no law in our code to the effect that
the property of an intestate shall descend to
his eldest son and heirs ? Is there no law
of primogeniture? Are not the terms of
the debate, " Ought the lAxto of Primogeni-
ture to be repealed ?" B. S. has discovered
that there b no law at all, " only a Ciutom^
at every one's disposal. We should have
thought that any writer in the British Con-
troversialist had sufiScient confidence in the
editors to distrust themselves, rather than
to question the terms of debate, much more
than to dogmatize upon them. If we are to
decide how far B. S. is worthy of the com-
pliment paid him by "Irene," as a "man
learned in the law," we fear the real merit
would excite laughter instead of eclat. The
political digressions which characterize this
"slight defence," "Irene" has taken up in
his article.
The remaining space of our reply we de-
vote to T. U.'s article. Here we meet a
similar defect to that which is so manifest
in B. S.*s article— an attempt to avoid the
vital point involved. T. U. says, " It is idle
to maintain that the law of primogenitare Is
2 V
458
OUOBT THB ULW OP PBIMOOBannTRB TO BB BBPKALBD?
uniutt or at^Urary b chancter, ai oodi to
objection might be applied with much freater
foree to the whole qaeetien of the right of
the pment proprietors to the ownenhip of
the Jand." • It were joet as logical to assert
the eqoitj of slaTor^, on the groand of the
JTiatioe or injastice of transportation.
If it is idle to maintain that that which is
essential]/ unjost, is onjost, or arbitrary, u
arbitrarr, becanse anything else maj be so,
we shall soon cease to belieTC that our legis-
lature is progressive. The right of proprie-
torship to which T. U. refers, is nothing to
the point, or we might Tindirate our beHef,
that as it regards the soil on which we tread,
no man hat a right to more Aon he can and
vfiU cultivcUe veil Wherever we find either
waste land, or badl? oultirated land, we have
the primary principle of national decay at
work. If primogeniture be unjust and arbi-
trary, whicn we hold true, it cannot be idle,
it must be right and eipedient to maintain
the same without abatement, till it cease to
be. For what is the object of law but to
establish universal justice. When it falls of
this, it is a negation of itself. With such a
flippant comment as T. U. makes on the
vital point in the opening of his article, the
reader is quite prepared for what follows, as
no one would expect a house to abide a
storm, or the depredations of time, whose
foundation was laid in the sand. He mani-
fests the same horror at a great change as
B. S., and concludes that were the law of
primogeniture repealedf our great political
mstitntlon must soon subside in darkness
and chaos! It were idle indeed here to
show that there is no possible connexion
between the repeal of a bad law and fiendish
revolutions. We would remind T. U. that
the terrible French revolutions did not arise
ih>m repealing a bad law— quite otUerwbe,
from the oppnssfon of bad laws and tyfanny.
To repeal a bad law is to vtadicate tmth aiid
supreme justice — ^is indeed a great aad good
work, and **nen do Bot gaSier grapes of
thorns, or figs of thistles.*
Again : *£ U. asks, in order to justiff tha
law, **What daim have ehildrMi upon a
father other than that they auiy be naiB-
tained in infancy, proper^ educated, aad
placed in the way of suppeurting tbemMlvcs
through life ? " If T. U. believes this much
at heart, we may say he ia better than bis
creed, and cannot thewwith oenaisteBtly
hold hb position. Is he not aware thai the
law of primogeniture stands opposed to f^tt,
and does not admit a claim so Batnrsl?
If it did in the ease of a father iattatate, it
would make some pi<ovision for the iafiucy,
the education, and estabKshment is life, of
the junior blanches of the fkmily. Sordy
the moral obligation involved is nol to lie
disregarded. In the case supposed, the law
evidently acts for the ikther; but flioraOy
considered, had it not ought to aet a# a
father ? According to T. U.ls d^nitloR ef
the children's elahn on the father, the law is
evidently tMi^ and partial, since H Biga-
tives the claim, or acts aa the«gh it hsd
never existed. Thus have we shows fiea
our opponent's assertioa or adralasioB ef the
essential point involved, that the exislinr kw
of prlmogenitnre is the embodiment of w^
tke ; and what greater argument, we msy
ask, can be adduced in favour of its abofitioe?
In conclusion, we may truly say, if B. &
and T. U. have advanced the best argvDcnts
in favour of primogeniture, we Biay pie-
nounce it a fatten eaute, and rest assured it
only needs the continued advoeacy of its
repeal by those who love their nalioB, to
secure its nftimole Mtd Mai abolitiea.
Buckingham, BoLUL
NEOATITE REPLY.
I ovoRT to be truly grateiul to ** Irene"!
That gentleman having diseoveied that my
former article on this topic (pp. 385 — 367)
was an act of argumentative suicide, has
buried me with Ihnereal honours outvy-
ing all precedent. The army and navy of
my country have been saeriflced as mighty
hecatombs to appease my manes; aad my
Bianseleum is ^a starry-pointing pyramid*
ftrmed ef the magnlfleent ruins of the
English ooBstltutfoB, while *
try" kneels, with *«a mlUstone of dehl dbsrt
her neck,* weeping ny BBtinely frfec
Sorely both friend imd fee muBt envy bn^
and exclaim^
" Thou, so Mcpulcbsed, in toch ponq> dosC licv
That king*, for such a tomb, mlfhl wish M ^*
Feeling, hewevsr, an ubssi^ ssdss ef litshty,
and doubting i?hether ''IrHW* has taif
OVOHT THB LAW OF FEIMOOfilflTORB TO BB BXPKAUED ?
459
betn at dfltirnctivo m he intended to be, I
ihaU BOW piroeeed to examine the argnmente
-QXfglfd against primogeniture; bat I wi»h it
to be Qodentood that I do so under protest,
and aa a mere act of courtesy towards my
oppooeDts. For reasons alrea<]y stated at
pi^ 385 (to which I beg to refer the reader),
I nsaintaia that the present quebtion is now
settled hi the negative. No substitute fur
our present Uw of inheritance has been pro-
posed; and since it is utterly impossible that
oiviliied society can be carried on, if the
obaeqniea of every person who dies intestate
are ta be celebrated by a physical-force fight
£nr the possession oi his property, the law of
primoganiture (which simply directs that,
in anch cases, real estate shall devolve upon
the eldest 8<m, to the exclusion of all others)
most remain unrepealed. In parliamentary
phraseology there is ** no motion before the
hoasa ;" eadii quffistio, the debate is at an end^
and we are now simply engaged in a posU
pnndial discussion in the refreshment rovnn.
Aa space is valuable, I shall occasionally
ooBUBent rather by allusion than quotation,
kopiag that my readers will refer to my op-
?»neDtB' articles to see that I do no injustice.
o fiieilitate this» I shall add numerical
ze(breoicee to the portions criticised. My
M fiiend ** Rolla** claims my first attention.
J« he appears to be no great friend to con-
fsrrative politics, I was somewhat astonislied
to find bun declaring (p. 384, col. 1) that
primogeniture was, ** in its origin, an en-
croaehinent on the leading power;" while in
the next column we are informed that
" halving learned the origin of the law, the
reader will not be surprised that it should
l» onjust m se"/ An encroachment on the
iMding power is unjust w se/ This is a
nvival of the old doctrines of passive obedi-
ioee and the divine right of despotism, —
twin spectres of the past, at whose apparition
in the pages <^ the Controvertuditt I beg to
azpresa my unfeigned *' surprise." Again,
CO tbt same page, we are told (coL 1 ) that
primogeniture ia "^Ae dumocraiic dement
mterwktlmimg the manarckie power in a rude
Btafto of society;" and (coL 2) that it is
*' tbe embodiment of the principle which
always prevails more or less in a rude state
of sooioty — thai r^ ia subordinate to wugkL**
Whnea it appoarst that in a rude state of
amety tkedeiiiiQcratie elemtnt and monarchic
pvwHr afo^ retptctiTely, tho penonification of
** mighi** and " right;" two singular concin*
feions for a radical politician, and somewhat
difficult to reconcile with hisUHy. Can any
confidence be placed in a writer, or aity
weight be attached to his arguments, when
they are based on suoh suicidal puerilities?
Having liglited my critical lantern, I now
invite tlie render to turn to page 384, and
(passing over the introductory dissertation
on feudalism) to accompany mo, from tho
top of ool. 2, in a rigorous search after a
valid and honest argument against primo-
geniture. The first argument brought for*
ward is contained in these words, " Equalify
of birth implies efp<a/i<y in snccession, acoordF*
ing to the simple dictate of natural right."
For " equality" read " prioritjf^** and the sen-
tence will prove as potent li^io m Jhoour of
priinogemtnre : the argument is an impoa-
ture. I must renew my search. As the next
paragraph simply expresses " Bella's" surprise
at the long career of primogeniture, and hia
opinions on " transportation, execution, kc,^
I pass on to the lengthy and singularly-con-
structed sentence which follows it. Instead
of tbe law granting the injustice of primo-
geniture, by limiting " it in one portion of
tlie kingdom," &c., the truth is identically
the opposite; gavel-kind (the custom de-
scribed by " Rulla") was an institution of
our Saxon ancestors, and the law limited it
by introducing primogeniture throughout tho
kingdom, except in Kent, where it either
could not or dare not. If " Bella's" inference
bo worth anything, it is in favour of primo-
geniture. I, however, respectfully decline
encumbering myself with such sophistici^
tions. The statement that *^ there is no
right of primogeniture among females, tho
crown excepted," is incorrect; the eldest
daughter has a right to include the principal
family mansion in her share.* With respect
to the assertion quoted from Maunder, I may
iolbnn " Bolla" that it applies only to
France. The hereditary succession to tho
crown of England has been governed by tho
law of primogeniture ever since a.i>. 800»
when the heptarchy was united under the
sway of Egbert.
" IL It is a law rtpngnant to naioral
feeling,** &e. Shade of Wilberforcel txemr
* I may here remark, that this objection as to
fhnales applies to all known laws of Inberiuaice;
Amalea never inherit. eaoq[>t fat default of male
isMM, an event nataraUjr of me ooeurrenoe.
480
OUOBT THB LAW OF PRIMOOBinTITltB TO BE RBPEALBD?
ble in thy grave; Spirit of Freedom! nmga
ihj island-throne; for hark — *^ Primogeni-
tnre is a crimef not less odioos than that
which gires man possession of his fellow^
man!" Oh! for the pen of Mn. Beeoher
Stowe, to paint the unmixed miseries of
English hearths and homes! Better the
dungeon and the fetter than to lose onr
share of the '' paternal acres'*! This tran-
scendental oratory has one advantage. No-
body can pret«nd to reason against it. But
really, friend *' Rolla," do lay the blame on
the right shonldefs. It is the parent who
'*robs" and not the eldest son; he merely
takes what his father (by omitting to divide it
by will) has given to him. I think, however,
that it will raise a smile to hear that English
fathers are in the habit of robbing ^ the infant
and nnconscions members of their family."
"III. It is a law frequently productive
of political discord," &c. (page 385, col. 1).
In this paragraph, **Bolla" falls foul of the
English monarchy. Primogeniture may
give us a bad king; and so might universal
suffrage, or any other possible mode of fixing
the succession to the throne; but, surely,
after the terrible warnings given by the fate
of Charles I. and James II., and after living
rixteen years under the gentle sway of Queen
Victoria, we need not make a bagbear of
these possibilities. Besides, parliament has
the power (and has frequently used it) to
make laws, in conjunction with,the sovereign,
which shall ** bind the crown and the descent
thereof;" and if "BoUa" "maliciously and
advisedly^ denies that fact *' by writing or
printing," he will become "guilty of high
treason." With that peculiar historical skill
for which "Rolls" is remarkable, "a mur-
derer, Richard III.," and " a bigot and hypo-
crite, James II.," are adduced as instances
of the evil efiect of primogeniture. Per-
haps my good friend will condescend to look
into some abridgment of English history; he
will then find that Richard III. was a
usurper, and that James II. succeeded his
hrotneTf — so that the law of primogeniture is
not answerable for their misdeeds.
" IV. It is frequently productive of social
misexy." This concluding head is supported
by arguments completely beyond my com-
prehension. I find that younger sons, as a
body, are consigned to " the union for a
shelter." I hope " RoUa " is not amongst the
unhappy crew. Possibly the scanty oatun
of the workhonse library aeeonnts for his
novel readings in history^ Carlyle is quoted
for some inexplicable puipose, and the artids
closes with fragmentary sentences of a most
awful appearance. " A nation ruined, pr9
tempore, by law /" What nation is meant?
who ruined it? how long will its **pro taa-
pore** ruin last? " An orphan fanoily, beg-
gared, sorrow-stricken twice . . . . jgr 2air,"
which, bdng interpreted, signifieth, probably,
a chancery suit, & &i " Blei^ House."
Diogenes-like, my search has been futile;
I have been unable to find one honest argu-
ment, one valid syllogism in " Holla's " article.
Before entering upon an enooonter with
" Irene," I may make one or two lemaikL
1. As to the moral justice of primogeniture,
as a principle. From the days of Abrahsn
downwards, the idea of hktkrigkt (ie^ a
superiority of privilege appertaining to the
firsUfomj as such) has ran through society,
and is traceable in all ages, and among all
nations. Esau " sold his birtkriffkt ;" when
Joseph feasted his bretJuren, they " sat befon
him, the JSrslhom according to his UrA^
right;" when the dying patriarch blessed
his twelve sons, he addressed Reuben ai
" my JinAomj my might, and the begimusg
of my strength;" the severeat judgmeot
against Pharaoh was, when God " smote all
thefaeibom of Egypt, the chief of all thdr
strength;" the extremity of sorow is typi-
fied by "one that is in bittemeas for his
Jirttbwmf Christ himself is described si
"firstborn among many brethren;" and hit
foUowers are denominated " the church d
thefirs^fomJ* In the Jewish state, whose
laws were founded by our divine Creator,
primogeniture figured largely; the eldest son
received a double portion of the patcnsl
inheritance (Dent xxi. 17), and in tht
absence of his father, was priest and bead
of the family; the high priesthood was hdd
by primogeniture; the kingdom deeceodsd
by the same rule. I have purposely ccn-
fined myself 'to illustratiQins from seripUue,
and on its authority I venture to ask,
whether primogeniture is "repugnant to
natural feeling and moral sentiment?*
2. As to its extent in the piesoit day,
primogeniture applies only, in Eagiand, to
real estate, i e., landed piupwty> PtasoosI
estate (including the cajStal of our railways,
canals, and of the whole mcrcantila Md
mann&ctaring indnstiy of our
OnOBT TBE LAW OF PBIMOOBKITURB TO BB BXPBALBD ?
461
mhort, "the mooej-power of England") is
dirided equally amongst kindred of the same
degree ; the epithets, therefore, of ** rohbery "
^ beggary," &c., are mere misrepresentations
of the tmth. It must be recollected also,
that where a man has not personality suffi-
cient to satisfy the younger branches of his
family, he is at liberty either to divide his
real estate by will, or (as is frequently done)
to tiunsmit it to his heir, burdened with the
payment of legacies, portions, annuities, &a,
for their benefit.
- ** Irene" (page 428) opens his article by
a series of paradoxes. He supposes that I
am ^ a man learned in the law," and then
endeavoura to prove that I know nothing
about it. He "takes his law" from me,
and, adding that he is thereby " landed in a
position the most advantageous possible," pro-
ceeds to remark on the "obvious incon-
nstency " of my statements. According to
his own confession, therefore, his reasoning
being built on the false foundation of
"obvious inconsistency," is of necessity
worthless. But I venture to say, that the
inoonsstency in question is entirely a fiction
of his own mind, arising from a want of
that "careful attention" which he recom-
m«ida to others. For the purpose of show-
ing this to be the case, I shall take a hasty
review of the course of reasoning pursued in
the first half of my opening article. In
page 385, 1 aigue that " the law of primo-
geniture," which simply comes into action
in Cfues qf inUttaey, cannot (without the
risk of convulsing society) be abolished,
antil a substitute has been provided; this
£aot is almost of an axiomatic character, and
having tbeen specifically reinforced at the
oommencement of the present article, needs
no further vindication. In page 385, coL I,
I argue that primogeniture has " a prescrip-
tive right to our reverence," as a time-
honoured institution which has moulded the
destiny of our nation; I call upon the reader
to shun the love of change, and to judge
the tree by its fruits — a powerful argument
In favour of primogeniture, ably supp(«ted
by "T. U.," in his ooncliiding paragraph,
and wisely, but not fairlv, ignored by " Irene."
In page 386, col. 2, 1 biu>w that the English
law aUows an unlimited power of alienation
by will; that therefore primogeoitore, as a
light, t. e., an advantage guaranteed to the
eldest son by law, no longer exists, but is in
all oases placed at the discretion of the
parent; and, consequently, that primo-
geniture owes its present position to the
influence of custom, being in itself " a perfect
law of liberty," holding out a model for the
imitation of the community, but allowing
each individual to follow his own inclina-
tions. It is the custom of English land-
ownera to follow the model thus held out;
they do so by free ohoioe, and I appealed to
my opponents to know whether they wished
to forbid this. *' Irene" ofiera "a decided
affirmative." He would abolish the model,
forbid the cusUun, and circumscribe our
freedom. He is a model politician of the
French socialist and American democratic
schools, hating primogeniture because it is
an English institution, and far too jealous
of liberty to spare any for his opponents.
I now leave the reader to judge whether
there is any " obvious inconsistency " in my
former remarks; I am obtuse enough not to
perceive it.
The remainder of "Irene's" article is a
pure attack on what I termed " two peculiar
advantages incident to primogeniture." If
he is inclined to abolish the House of Lords,
to uproot the aristocracy of the country, to
disband its army and navy, and to parcel out
the land into potato patches, I venture to
believe that few will agree with him. His
taste is singular; and on the principle, ^ De
gustibus non est disputandum" 1 might here
close; but, since his vituperation of "things
as they are" derives its chief strength from
misrepresentation, I may as well notice a few
of his positions. The xmion of church and
state has no earthly connexion with primo-
geniture. AdvowBons (i. e., the right of pre-
sentation to ecclesiastical livings) are, un-
fortimately, become a species of private pro-
perty. At the present day they are, com-
paratively, seldom held in connexion with
any given estate; and where they are so
held, they may be severed from all further
C(mnexion with the manora to which they are
appendantf at the will of the owner. It is
true, they are esteemed reai property, and
as such may be subject to the action of pri-
mo^;enitnre; but the probability of an abuse
of church patronage is as great, I imagine^
in the hands of a younger brother as in those
of the firetbom. The mischief consists in
the fiu!t that church patronage has become
secular property. If primogeniture were
462
OUOBT IBB IjLW OF PBXMOOnriTUBX TO BE BEPSAUCD ?
forbidden, and the aristecnwj twept awaj,
tiie onlj result in this respect woidd be, that,
instead of certain iirings being presented to
■^ lordlj goslings" by^i^al ganders (td adopt
for the nonce the elegant phraseologj of
'''Irene"), the same timnsaotiou would take
plaoe between untitled bipeds of the same
-gmas. The advantage of the change / am
viable to perceive. As a specimen of the
gross abase of choreh inflnenoe bj our aris-
tocracy, 1 may remind " Irene** that the pre-
sent primate has risen firom the ranks of the
people, and that, oat of twenty- eight EngBsh
Inshops, only one is of noble family.
If '* Irene** will torn to Eoglish history,
be will, perhaps, learn a Httle about onr
Jinny and navy. In the meantime I may
inform him that there was onee a na?al
commander named Nelson, who rose from
^ humble*' rank (»'. e., in " Irene*8*' sense ef
'"humble*'), and gained the highest naral
b<»onni and a place in the peerage of thk
countnr. When '* Irene" has studied that
instance, I can gtre him further disproofs of
his assertions about "the comroissioiied
ranks." The sneers about ** lordly parasiteB"
jmd ** gentlemanly soldiers*' should na^ been
reserved for a page where the name of Wei-
lington did not appear, and for readers who
never heard of Marlborough. Engli^men
who have seen the battered form and scarreid
features of tbe late Sir Charles Napier, and
have watched tin Marquis of Anglesey
hobbling on his cork leg, or Lord Fitzroy
(Somerset (Baron Raglan) making better use
ef his one arm than other persoos an apt
to do witii two, will have mors taste than
to insult their heroes because they happened
to be bom of noble families. With regard to
the military expenditure of the nation, it
may be interesting to some readers to state,
that in the year <»diig Jamiary 5, 1853, we
paid more to government for the postage of
our letters than the cost of the ordnance, —
that the expense of the navy was covered by
the excise duty on British spirits,— and thi^
onr " army estimates'* were exceeded by the
Custom-house duties on tobacco and foreign
spirits.
The paragraph (page 4S9) on our ariato-
cracy I shall not attempt to answer. When
a writer, in spite of the fact that the House
of Commons has the sole control of the na-
tional finances, describes the national debt
«• « work of the peexai^^^^ut iBni(c\i»« xv
solved to diabeliers all efvidenoe; whn be
declares tiM House of Lords to bis a "dka-
gerout obstacle* in one aentenoe, and »
« sickly," "weak," and * imbecile** body h
the next, and places Bcntiment and bigouy
in the same categoiy, he is ovidently beyiad
the reach of argmneat. I do not prstead t>
rttuom against such ezfirsasioos as ** as is-
cubus and a curse**] I oonmend lo kit
notice, bopeleosly, I ooafeaa, the adninUe
remarks cf my oeadjntor T. C <page 4SS,
col. 2), and I remind him tluit &^
Charta, the foundation of E^iah fMbcc,
was the week of the £oj;;lisii barons.
In my fenner article, I ondoatoaied to
inustrate the evil effects of a mhrate nib-
division of land. " The oase of Scotland sii
Irehmd,** which I cited, is deohuod "*]
ably out of point;" the only nasi
safed is, that in **ianning, tbe Seotok »
nearly a eentuiy ahead of the E^^IA.'
Thank you, " Irene." I wiU not ntop »»
plore the exaggeration ^ jour state— t;
but, taking the grain of trsth which item-
tains, I will infonn yon tiiat primogMilce
prevails to a much gf^^^t extat in Setuk
law than with us. The strictness ef Soi:ck
entails is upheld by law; the possibility eft
continuous entail is taken away by tfas Eb|-
lish law. A Sootchman, in oixfer to derin
his lands, must have his ivill drawn oiti
the formality and exactitnde of a nvrohr
conveyance, and must ezeonin it a ccftni
time before bis death, or tbo oldest am at
defoat his wishes ; an iriigii«VnM bit
scribble his wishes on a slip of paper tbe
day before his death, and tho law wiBsi-
foree their fulfilment. Ton have cxfMsri
your ignorance, and hsvo fnniisfaed an addi-
tional ** case to poinL" Mj^'Fnach
it appears, are English ''ornMm." I
my defence of tbeoi: — ** France is the Bost
favourable country hi Europe for agrieajtsi^
.... The agrieoitnra of Fraaoe at ja— f
occupies the lowest xnnk in that of ibt
northern states of Europe** (London^ ** £a-
cyclopsidia of Agriculture," p. M> Mr.
Low, professor of agrionltain in tho l«v«r-
rity of Edinbwf h, speaking of the Frcnek
law of SQOOSSsion, aays, " It is to be tnmd
that no great European oonatry will 9m
follow tho oxampie of Ffanoe" (Low ■'Oi
Landed PnpMTty,** p. 4> " The %risrtfw
of Britain is for saperisr to that of ths C»
,\i&«Lt. ... A wooden hanvw is n
OUGHT nU LAW OF PRIMOGKKITURB TO BE BBPBALED?
463
in agricoltare not known in the fertile plains
of France. . . . The cattle are poor-looking,
knock-kneed creatures of a verj small size
" ("Journal of Agriculture," II., p. 185).
^'Less than one-third of the population of
England, and more than two-thirds of the
population of France, are engaged in the
cnltivation of the soil. . . . Notwithstanding
this disproportion, the English labouring
classes are better fod than the French. And
there is no comparison between their respec-
tire enjoyment of clothing and other manu-
fkctures ("Agriculture,** in the"EncycIo-
pcedia Metropolitana**). "The diminutive
posMSsions of the Swiss, and, more lately, of
the French petsantrj, afford no room for the
emplorment of capital, and those inventions
by which the charges of cultivation are
dimii^hed, and its products increased. . . .**
(" Agricttlture," in the " Encyclopwdia Bri-
tannica"). The " Edinburgh Review*' (vol.
xl.), speaking of the French law, says, " It
has rendered the children jealous of each
other, and of their father. ... It is easy to
see what a wide door has been thus opened
to erexy sort of fraud, perjury, litigation. . ."
Perbaps these authors may be considered as
trustworthy as "1793 and 1853." The
popularity of the French law does not prove
its political expediency, since the same mode
of reasoning vrould lead us to infer the moral
propriety of drunkenness from the fact of a
general attachment to the brandy bottle.
The celebrated agricultural writer, Mr.
Toong, after enumerating many of the prac-
ficss of large farmers, asks, "What mind
can be so perversely framed as to imagine,
fbr a single moment, that such things can be
effected by small farmers t" Mr. Ricardo,
speaking of the subdivision of land and its
consequences, says, ** The principle of gravi-
tation is not more certain than the tendency
cf such a system to change wealth and
power into misery and weakness ; to call
away the exertion of labour from every ob-
ject but that of providing mere subsistence;
to confound all intellectual distinction; to
busy«the mind continually in supplying the
body*s wants; until, at last, all classes are
infected with the plague of universal pov-
erty.** Another writer remarks, " The ten-
dency of such a system is to approximate
man to the state of the savage, obliged to
supply himself, by his own labour, with
everything his situation may require.*' The
eminent political economists, Mr. Nassau,
sen., and Mr. J. S. Mill, concur in the same
opinions. Mr. M'Gulloch says, "Such are
the ruinous effects produced by the small
farming system. And such, too, would be
the effects of having a country parcelled ont
into small freehold properties. " Irene" has
referred to the United States; I therefore
conclude by quoting an eminent American
writer : " T*here are very great ertifc, ttn-
donbledlyj in lAe subcUvisian of estates, . . .
The policy of the measure will depend upon
circumstances — the state of society, the
genius of the government, the character of
the people, the amount of cultivated land,
the extent of territory^ and the mean and
inducement to emigrate from one part of the
country to another It would be very
unfounded to suppose that the evils of equal
partition of estates have been seriously felt
in these United States. .... The extraor-
dinary extent of our unsettled territories,
and the abundance of uncultivated land in
the market, operate sufficiently to keep pa-
ternal inheritances unbroken. The tendency
of these causes is rathef to enlarge than to
abridge them" (Kent's " Commentaries on
American Law," iv. p. 384, 5). Proud, yet
grateful, that I bear the name of a Briton,
t lay my humble mite of service on the
altar of my country's welfare; — readers!
judge ye. B. S.
fie is neyer tired of listening who wishes to gain wisdom; and he is never tired of
talking who thinks he has gained enough. He who has a rich memory is often contented
with a poor judgment, — with having much of other men s, and little or nothing of his own.
Blnntoess of manners is decidedly a fault: it either shows a want of regard K»r another's
feelings; an afiSeetation of smcsrity; a bad education; or the neglect and abuse of a good
CM.'^Gems </ Wisd<m,
464
OUGHT TIUXSP0RTATI02T TO BB AB0U6HKD?
Inml £nnniiiti[.
OUGHT TRANSPORTATION TO BE ABOLISHED ?
AFFIKMATIVE REPLY.
"Adoit
Regula peeeatit qam menas irroget eqoas ;
Nee sciatica dignum, honibili sectere flagello."
fforaee, Sat I. 3.
The celebrated MAiqnis Beccaria, in his
"Treatise on Crimes and PiuiiBliments,"
attempted to rednoe the pioportioa between
offences and their penalties to the accnracy
and precision of a mathematically graduated
scale. From the infinite varieties of hnman
character, and the wide difierenoes of nataral
and acquired sensibility, snch a scheme most
necessarily fail; but, while we are compelled
to refrain from attempting its fall develop-
ment, it onght, in the aphoristic fonn in
which the joyons old Sabine has clothed it,
and which I have adopted as a motto, to
form the baas and animmting principle of all
our penal legislation. Now, with this prin-
ciple transportation is utterly irreconcilable;
its only susceptibility of variatioii is to
respect* of time, and practically its grada-
tions are very few in number. In illustn*
tion and proof of these remarks, I hare
extracted from the parliamentaxy returns
the following figures, showing the numbers
sentenced to the various terms of transporta-
tion, for crimes committed in England saJ
Wales, daring the years 1848-50:--
Term of Punishment
1848.
1849.
•
1850.
Avetase— ISM-Sa
For life
Above fifteen years ....
For fifteen, and above ten years
For ten, and above seven years .
For seven years ....
67
28
291
843
2,022
60
31
255
933
1,565
84
39
281
805
1,369
2| percent
1 »
9| n
30 „
57 „
It will be seen, from the calculations of
the last column, that, in ninety-^ix and a
half cases out of eveiy hundred, the grada-
tions of this punishment are confined within
the compass of eight years, — ^that of these,
in eighty-seven cases, the variations of the
punishment are narrowed down to three
years, — ^and that, in considerably more than
half, the sentence of transportation is one
uniform penalty, setting at defiance all
notions of eqiudity and proportion. But
there is another light in which we may con-
sider the inequality (and consequent unfit-
ness) of transportation as a part of our penal
system, viz., by observation of the dif^rent
classes of crime to which the same sentence
is awarded. The reprieved murderer; the
cowardly and brutal perpetrator of a garotte
robbeiy; the incendiary, who shall mali-
ciously destroy a ship, or simply fire a stack
of »* straw. hauUn, stubble, &c. &c" (7 Will.
IV , and 1 Vic., cap. 89, sections 6, 10); the
author of a threatening letter (10 and 11
Vic, cap. 66); the ill-paid, hiod-workad,
and sorely-tempted letter-carrier, who shall
*' embezzle, secrete, or destroy" a letter con-
taining "any chattel, money, or valoaUe
security" (7 WilL IV., and 1 Tk^ cap. 36,
sec 26) ; the forgery of a name; the attempt
to receive a dividend by a false persoostim
of the owner of the stock of an incorporated
company (11 Geo. IV., and 1 Will I\\ (a{L
66, sec 7), — all these are liable to the on
punishment of transportation for life. Nor
is this monstrous disproportion betvem
crime and ponishment, in its outwaxd iDe»>
sure, the sue, or even the greatest evil od-
nected with these instances: the puniahsKnt
itself will not be the same to the diffenot
individuals. The pains of tnusportsdao
are more severe to the educated than tbe
ignorant, — ^to the sensitive than the hard-
ened; and hence, while many of its evils viH
be escaped, and all alleviated, in the esse of
OUOBT TRANSPORTATION TO BR ABOUBHRD ?
465
the murderer, they will press with redoubled
weight on those who have committed the far
lighter crimes last mentioned. Most of mj
readers will have seen the operation of a
domestic punishment, which (jna^na con^
ponere parvU) bears a close analogy and
resemblance to transportation, — I allude to
the practice of putting a child ** in a comer,"
or ^ont of the room," with the solemn in-
junction not to return again "until he is
good." A sensitive child, conscious of having
done wrong, and overwhelmed with a sense
of shame, probablj suffers far more than is
intended; while ^e obstinate or hardened
one, after the first burst of passion is over,
will generally pass the time very agreeably
to himself in making grimaces in the comer,
or plajing outside the door. The origin of
the domestic practice and of the social insti-
tution is one and the same, — a desire to get
rid of the offender for a given period, and to
save the trouble of an attempt at his refor-
mation.
If the reader will connect the above obser-
vations with those which appeared in a former
article, I think he will find a satisfactory
series of arguments against transportation; I
now, therefore, turn from argument to au-
thority. The testimony of Beccaria and
Howard have been adduced by E.W. S.; the
decision of Bentham, the great master-mind
of theoretical legislation, is thus given: —
" England, before the independence of Ame-
rica, was in the habit of transporting a
numerous class of delinquents to the colonies.
This transportation was to some slavery, —
to others, a pleasure. A vagabond (tm vau-
rien) who desired to travel was a fool, if, to
obtain an outfit, he did not commit a crime.
.... Once condemned and transported, the
fiite of the criminals became unknown. Thus
all the effects of example were lost; the prin-
cipal end (of punishment) was neglected.
The transportation which now takes place to
Botany Bay fulfils its object no better; it
has all the vices, and nonetof those qualities,
which a punishment should possess. What
absurdity, what madness it would be, if, in
offering a settlement in a distant country, it
was added that it must be merited by the
commission of a crime I Transportation
presents itself to the mind of most unfortu-
nates as an advantageous offer, by which
they can profit only by the oonmiission of a
crime. Thus the law, instead of counter-
balancing temptation, in most cases adds to
its force."*— (" Traits de Legislation CivOe
et P^nale," torn. ii. p. 425-6.) The great
foreign jurist and professor, M. P. Bosd, in
his ^^'Treatise on Penal Law," has opposed
transportation as defective in the two most
necessary particulars of reformative and ez-
amplary influence. Mr. Mill has condemned
it; and Archbishop Whately has striven to
overthrow it. The opinion of Earl Qrey has
been aheady quoted (p. 892), and the de-
cision of the select committee, endorsed
(amongst others) with the names of BusseU
and Molesworth, is registered in a previous
article (p. 391). To conclude this mar-
shalling of legislative and parliamentaij
talent, I may quote the author of " Punishr
ment," in thie "Encyclopedia Britannica":-*
"It fails especially in the great object of
example ; it neither deters others, nor cor-
rects the offender himself. Instead of sup-
pressing the power of conmiission, it is the
fertile source of crimes. It does not supply
the means of compensation to the party
injured; it is not economical, but very costly
to the state." Truly, if we err, it is in goodly
company.
The first negative article of the present
debate appears to me of a most extraordinary
character; it might fairly be summed up
into the form of an advertisement : —
" Wanted, an alignment in favour of trans-
portation; the smallest contributions thank-
fully received. Apply to J. M. &" I had
not expected to find any very formidable
array of ressoning prepared to do battle in
behalf of transportation; but I did suppose
that it would have raised a more efficient
body-guard than the ragged regiment of
arguments commanded by J. M. S. The
article in question barely occupying two
pages, we might have expected that the
author would have rushed at once "medioi
in resf** but instead of this, setting out
firom "a doctrine maintained by most theo-
logians," he wanders pleasantly along,
touching oa "the origin of evil," discussing
the derivation of "banishment," and pre-
senting us a summary of the history of
transportation down to the year 1787, lor
* Quotation marks should be held sacred, and
applied only to a writer's own words, except under
peculiar droomstances, like the presenL The
words given are a translation from the Frendi of
the original edition by IHunont.
4§6
OOOBT TEUrirOVTATIOir TO BK ABOUaKKD?
which latter laboor ho is erntlj bat joBtly
nproved by his eoadjutor ** L'OntrWr." la
Ids third and next paragraph, J. IL & informs
«B that transportation is objected to **oo
Tifions groands," attributes our late legisla-
tion to **the disooTerj of the Anstralian gold
mines," and (after prophesying farther evil
l» the oaase he supports) rejoices to take up
Ids pen and ''maintain that transportation
ought not to be aboUshed.** The italics are
his own, wisely introduced in the very middk
of his " hasty notes" to mark his fi^gt deda-
vition of opinion!
For convenience sake, I shall teniure to
present a condensed summary of the re-
tnainder of the article of J. M. S. before pro-
ceeding to refute it; and, as my object is not
to attack the writer, but to conyince the
leaders, I hope that they will refer to his
article, and see that I do not misrepresent in
abridging it. The arguments of J. M. S.
are: — 1. Transportation "inflicts a penalty f
for it is painful to leave home and father-
land, to be torn by force from the embraces
of friends, and " sent for a number of years
and a bard course of servitude —
* To sigh hlB English breath in foreign clouds.' "
It is true the punishment has been stripped
of some of its horrors; but many remain
tmmitigated, for Lord Campbell says so. 2.
Transportation is " reformatory f for Filan-
gieri says " that it is possible to transform a
bad man into a good one." Dr. I>ang says
that transportation has had that effect; and,
as a makeweight to his testimony, we may
add that of a nameless ''under colonial
secretary." 3. Transportation "exhibits a
preventive example" on society; for this fol-
lows from its punitive character, which Lord
Campbell's testimony has established. Such
is the defence of transportatioa ! Will my
readers bear with me while I make a few
remarks on this unique and microscopic
argument? The first proposition is almost
a truism, and yet J. M. S. blunders over it in
a most amusing fashion. We are told that
the convict sighs for ** a hard course of ser-
Titude" (such, at least, is 1:)fgnunnuitical
meaning of the sentence); the bettutiful
climate, and almost cloudfeix skies of Aus-
tralia, are denotninated "foreign clouds;"
and, to crown all, we are informed that
** etnigration:* has many horrors still "un-
mitigated"! To Tffprssent ^!bA ^vw»ib cri-
minal at niflferiog from pangs
affect the refined sensibilities of our nsloc,
is an unintentional satire on tha ponisbBNii
What is " fatherknd" to the wretched dc»
sens of those squalid haunts of misery lai
vice where crimes are hatched like a serpcat^
brood? What are the ties of home to th«K
whose dwelling is the noisome cellar er tbe
" thieves* kitehen ?" What is the finn gntf
of the police to those whose life has been oee
round of drunken riot and ferocioos brutalitj?
What are friends to thooe whose assodsta
are the drunkard and the burglar? Ok, it
is sickening to find one who debates oi
" Social Economy" thus trifling with bastti
wretchedness I With reference to the secasd
head, of *" reformatory infloeoee,** the ssscr-
tions oi the bellicose doctor amount to
nothing. If convicts have refbnned uodcr
its influence, it has been in spite of, and ost
through, transportation. SiDC*", however, tk
celebrated dedaration of war hurled at Uk
Colonial Office, we have had a doobtlnl
opinion of the Rev. J. D. Lang, and tLxl
pass over his remarks by simply opposing to
him the name of Dr. Whately. A meocct'i
consideration will enable any one to peroor?
that a punishment may bo eminently proal
and yet destitute of all exemplarity. TLe
case of secret torture is a striking proof a'
this position ; the dedncUon of J. M. &, therc^
fore, falls to the ground. The aothoritj «' '
Lord Campbell having been twice introduced,
I may remind the rntder that two gorvn-
ments, including the names of Sl Leoosrl'i,
Cranworth, Kelly, Thesiger, Gockbnm, sad
Bethel, have decreed the doom of transporta-
tion. Lord Campbell is nnther the Tboni
nor the Minerva of English law.
The article of " L*Oovrior^ is an ondoabted
advance upon that of J. M. &; if not kgioil,
it is, at least, ingenious. Harping ca '^ tbe
chord of self," touching us in that tender
part, the purse, and iuFenloiisly shifting tl»
subject to the abuses of Birmingham Gaol, it
may. ])robably, %xert so influence oa iht
minus of some readers. Though frsqucatl^
differing from him, I hare gsneraUy fldt s
sympathy with this writer, IWm his sppaimt
honesty of ]mrpose and fairness of argamssl;
it is, therefore, with soma degree of bops ai
to his ultimate oottversion, that I beqicsk
his attentioD in the chaiadsr he hu
assumed of an inquirer. For rmsoM stsisd
in a former artldt, I shall not *^r"frf thi
cnwmT TBAgrepotttATioir t
M7
•ecnnirj of "l.'OeTntr'J' cilcnltlioM; but
I TiiMquitocsUy ii«n»nd tliit Ite TtMiieT Mid
■naptod fall jod^cnt on th< niacin npenaes
of traninrUitiDn and imprisonment. Ac-
cordini' to " L'OuTrier'i' own Mitement, tlio
pnnishmmt of the hulkB ia obnptr ibkn
tr»ii«port»lion ; »nd it is ■ mtre trjiion to
jiuert tfait tliej in ' put of Ibe tranaport
gjnem.' We might as well n; that a
metropolilin police nation is i part of Xew-
gate pris<ji]. Tbe simple abolltioD of tnua-
pnnation wonld InTc the hnllta Tintonched.
" L'On'rier' ?ia> struck a fatal bloiF at his
own edifice. Agato :— Almost alt oar arts
of parliament^ in afraniing pnnislimentj^
leare the jndge tbe option of Benlencing to
so many years' trajHportatioa, or to a far
infrrfor nnmber of years' iaiprisonment with
banl lalKior. They seem to lay down, as a
genenl m)e, that im[nuonmeDt with hard
labour for thm years ia, in the eye of the
law. cqoivalent to aetHi years' transporta-
tion. This win completely turn tbe tables
on onr friend "L'Oavtier. Bnt it is not
nnlil transportation has answer^ tbe beaty
indictrnenl brought against it on n
grounds that this qncition of expense ci
allowed to hate any weight. TiU lli<
" L'Oov
hat "dead
»TB wilbio
nmnnilled to take thrir tiial at tbe Central
Criminal Court. Their aiaodatoe may, pto-
bably, bear the sentence of seren yean'
transportntion pronotiDced in eontt; and, ao
far, there is etemplaiity; tboni;h the itn-
pndent, bnt 1 boheve sincere, "Tbanlt yoo,
my lord,* which not nafieqnently greets tlM
sentence, mnat often lake away all seme of
terror from tbe minds of tbe bearers. Tbo
convicts arrire at Sydney, and, after a sbort
probation, obtain tickets of leave, and are
assigned la diiIi!reot Httkrs. Tli* one falta
to the lot of aoms hard laikmaater, who,
simply intent on gain, r^ards him aa a
bond-ilaye, ont of whom he is privileged tu
get the ntmost amount of latiour. Depravsl
by tbe associations of the voyai:^ and op-
pressed by his maatn-, ereiy spark of moni
feeling ia eitinf^shed, nnlil, becoming nn-
manageable, be is thrown back on the bands
of the eonyict gotemment, and, descendmg
Ibrongb all tbe gnia of penal ptioishnHM
— the vbip, the fetter, and the cbain-gtng —
closed npoa him for ercr. I will Dot hi
Ihc feelings by a recital of the inhuman bor-
rors of his brief remaining caner; his fate i*
known only to the contict aWhotitiea and
(be prison predncts Is of little
[lering, however, in his ear, " There Is
erattervth. and yet increaseth; and the
that wilhholdcth mrm than is good, bi
tendfth to poverty.'
With lespect lo tbe eiemiilarity of trans-
porlalion, which "L'Ouvnet" somewhat
mindly assertSi I respectfully request hi
CTnaideration of the fkct stated of the goremc
of Yin IHemen'a Land (see p. 391, col. 3]
There t«, probably, not one in twenty, or eve
fifty, of Ihi ■
who kno
transportation dilTers from emigration^ and,
■3 we have already noticed, J. il. 8., while
tbe two. Now, if we rested here, il wonld'
■arely be safe to infer that a puniahm«it
whose very nalnre is unknown can have no
effect in deterring otben from crime. Bal,
to Mtlle, if posnUe, this vexed qneation of
Memplaritj, let na ttaea the career of two
criminals. Snppoae they have committed, in
concert, some crime ia the sobnrh* of the
metiopolk; tbey an unated, and erentoally
of bis lot. Where is the eiem-
pUrityT The other convict, perhaps oF a
more timid natnre, and meeting with a better
Disster, may, perhaps, be rewarded by eligbt
wages, and at the close of his term la enabled,
in a colony where a brawny arm is a mine of
wealth, to riac gradmlly. His mind nreit-
ing lo the past, he writes home, to indnc«
his acquaintance to j<nn him, and defCiibei
the comfiiTls and competency of his position.
What will be the result? Unable to raise
tbe passage money, i^orant of tbe awful
fate of the one, and dualed by the snocen
of the other, transpcrtation will be looked
upon by those to whom he writes as a free
passage to success; and hia ponithment, in-
stead of being a preventive example, will
become a puworfol inducement to ciimeJ If
any one donbts tie colouring of my picture,
let him refer to tbe evidence addnced befon
the select committee, and be will End that I
am relating " stnhboni facts." One case
mentioned recorda that, on the reedpC it a
letter from a sneceisfnl convict, the ignorant
viUagerg to whom it was mitten iauncdiatelj
46S
OUOHT TILUKPQRTATiON TO BB ABOUSHBD ?
began to inquire wlwt they coold do to be
tnmaported. When a convict does not
retam at the close of his sentence, his asso-
ciates natorally in£Br that he is better off
there than here; when he does retnm, it is
eitiier in comparative wealth, to be an evi-
denoe against the penal character of the
punishment, or in distress, to fall back into
his former practices, oormpted and coimpt-
ing.
The cruelties of Binningham Gaol are
argnments affakut transportation. The state
is bonnd, by every consideration of morality
and religion, to temper justice with mercy,—
to avoid the infliction of xmneoessary pain.
If, then, in the very centre of England,
omelty has been practised in our gaols, it is,
snrely, a national sin to expose oar criminals
to the mercy of irresponsible taskmasters in
the colonies. If secret tortnre maintain a
hold for a time at home, what mnst be the
condition of convicts at the antipodes? If
abuses can creep in here, in spite of all the
thousand safeguards whidi exist, what human
system can ensure their correctionin Bermuda
and Van Diemen's Land?
The appeal of ^' L'Ouvrier" to those mor-
bid sensibilities and false delicacies of the
age, which would ignore the evils they dis-
like, will fall unhMded on every masculine
xnind. We would not exhibit the convict in
his " chains*' and badges to the eyes of our
countrymen; there is no necessity finr it; but,
remembering that the convict is "bone of
oar bone, and flesh of our flesh," — ^remember-
ing that he was bom amongst ««, and sinned
against our laws,*— we dare not outrage na-
tural justice so far as to cast him forth to
dwell amongst others. We have no more
right to force our morally depraved criminalB
upon another community, than to compel our
neighbours to harbour a raging lunatic or a
helpless cripple bom within our own house.
I greatly regret to find that ''L'Ouvrier^
should thus appeal to the selfishness of our
nature, — should ask us to make the obscene
libaldxy of crime, and the mattered corses
of the chain-gang, the cradle-songs of fatare
empires, because, fbraootb, the dank of a
prisoner's irons sounding from the walls of
an English prison would grate too harshly
on his delicate ear. It is not by ini<qipng
such feelings as these that crime is to be
repressed ud eradicated. We most stand
face to face with our criminal population.
We must go with the beaming face of bene-
volence and seek the oatcasts of sodety;
we must lure the criminal into the light of
day; we must let him feel that he is neither
forgotten nor nncared for; we must exert the
potent influences of education, and the mighty
leverage of " pure and undefiled religion" to
raise him to a purer and healthier moral
atmosphere. We mnst no longer ooosnlt
" feeling ;** we must no longer, like the priest
and Levite of old, pass by the fallen with
averted &ce; but must seek him as good
Samaritans, pour '*wioe and oil into his
wounds," and tend him till he is healed of
his moral maladies. Above all, we must
cease to brand the criminal with everlasting
shame; we must leam to "fvorgive others,"
that we ourselves may be forgiven; and,
stretching cot the hand of pity, we must
welcome the crinunars return to tiie path of
virtue; we must receive the repentant pro-
digal into our midst, and treat him with
love, instead of regarding him with sus-
picion. Transportation is but an attempt to
avoid a great social responsibility, — the re-
sponsibility of earing for those whose sins
are too often the result of the social in-
justice and selfish narrowness which abounds
amongst us. It is conceived in the spirit of
Cain, — ^'^ Am I my brother's keeper?"— ^sad
the doom of Cain is upon it; its existence
now draws rapidly to a doee. Its history
will be a tale of sorrow and of guilt; its
epitaph a curse ; its memoiy '' a by-word snd
a hissing,** B. &
NBGATITE BBPLT.
Thieves may be arranged in two great
dasses, — those who from circumstances can
hardly be anything else, and those who are
so depraved that they wiH be nothing else.
I. There are some thieves who can hardly
be anything dse.
It has been remarked by a person con-
versant with one of the worst districts in
England, that " the greater number of pros-
titutes are so because they can do nothing
else. Their education does not fit them
either for service or any other useful em-
ployment, and so they fall into an." This
remark, we tlunk, may be f^ly applied to a
T«i7 '"^ Damb«T of iht Umi of the pn-
■mt 6*j. Tfacj am do nottunK useful, utd
ao thej fill into virioui kindi of nn, but
most frcqnentlf into tliift Thne penocu
ma J be diiidtd into two oUow, — ' '
aie truined to theft fnm iaftoej,
who fail at Dthei' emplojrmcnta.
In order to form Bome kiod of aatimato of
tLe number of peraona who «re trained from
childhood tu steal, it is oidj necMBiu; to
refer to the Btatement of a teacher ui thia
line, aa given in the laat "Report of tbi
London Citj ^lisaion." When questioned bj
the misaionary as to " how man; lads he
EuppcMd he had trained to be thieveB durinj;
the laat twcnt; years?" he aniwered " that
he coDld not euctl; tell ; bnt of thii
Bnre, it could not be lesi lhan_^De Ai
Sappose that there are twentj inch teacbera
in London alone, and ■ proportion,
in everj large town throughout tl
then add to these the number of children
who, neglected by their p»rent», n
Bireets, and are taogbt to Heal by
other of these boys; not to aay anything of
thow who are educated to thia craft by their
own parents, — and the state of things will
appear appalling.
But these boys, as we hare sud, are un6t
for any useful employment, from haying i
been trained for uiy. Tbey can do nolbi
useful; and if they could, (bry are not .
clined; and if they were iQclined,no one woi
employ them who knew their history, for
one will employ a thief if he can get aa
honest indiiidual to work for bim.
To this class we thiok that no punisfam
could be more adapted thsn tranaportati
became, Srst, by being transported they
taught to work, and, consequently,
brought to be nsefnl. This is an impinl.
step, inssmnch as, where there is any moral
sense left, a human being feels that h,e is
exalted when he can be of nae. Secondly.
Transportation puis it in the power of these
persons to be njefni to themselyes.
This is a very important fact in favonr tf
transportation. If the counct faehaTe well
during his probation, be may obtain his
ticket of leaTe, and work os his own account.
And here it must be ramembeiHi that his
pomtion is matarially bnprored in two
Rtpects: he is able to work, and be is in a
country where woik can be obtained. Be ii
able to work, foi be hai beoi tught during
469
hia probatiau. He baa nndeijaae a training,
passed through a fwuae of edncatjon entirely
difierent from his former edncation,- — acourea
which enables him to work when ho is abla
to obtain it; and he can obtain work, fix
there is not the nontber of hoosst and good
workmen to compete with in the laboni
market, and there is plenty of work tor thOM
who are able and willing 1« do it.
To this class, at least, transpoitation ia ao
equitable ptmisbment. He haa rendered
himself unworthy of the pririlegei of tha
old coimtry by his dishoneety, and deservel
' ioM them, and he is eSectnally bereft of
lepnyil
■ bybani
But it may be e^d that then is too much
tuercy exhibited towards the oSender by this
kind of puniihment, inasmnch aa many felona
have been placed in a belter positimi by
transportation than maltitudesorhaaeatmen
occupy at home. . We anawer, that trani-
pertation is not an unmixed twon, but cok-
tains within it quite anongh of the oatore c£
punishment. Mere emigration is repulaiTe
to many minds; bnt Iransportalion is boni-
fying to most. From thui ronark it will b*
perceived that we do not consider emigration
and transportation eynanynwus terms, aa a
misprint in our opening article might lead
onr readera to suppose. The feion does not
emigrate, but is transported; he doei not go
away ToluDtarily, but by compuluon, fnxa
friends as well as foes. If he have any
relatives whom he holds dear, he pmtt lean
them; be has no choice whateTer in ths
matter. Father, mother, brotliers, sistera,
friends, or associates in disgrace, — he most
leave them all.
Then the training he has to undergo ii cf
e meet unpleasant description, and entinlj
voluntary, A guard of eoldiere to prevent
bis escape, pnnishment for refractory conduct,
and plenty of hard work, — snch are ths
principal features of the punishment of mna-
portatjon. Surely, even the injured persool
themselves could not dewn more.
The other dass of perwDB, who ireonabls
(o obtain a living ttim any useful emphijr.
consist principally of those who, though
dncatad in vice, are incapable, from
IS caoses, rf obtaining susteoaace, and
who an indwnd U> ileal tnat want. TluM
4T<»
otnpti«M)t, kdedidoii» mot of teiiMaiyv
laMiBW. Th» elM» of pmM^ mi^ le
ftMjr coMidorod t^eontMii maofiaArnddalB,
'who, vader mow himonhh cimnHtnoa%
inttbe«nio«Mfala«alM»of aooitty* lf&
flNB Ileal becKiao ko it ui waol, it m mty
Mr !• nippOM tlUl, iCfcor thmga bdag o^mI,
when he ceiMB to wul bo will CMM tv it«a ;
«i Khownti hooewoko ommI oom food,
thaft h* witt oeaM to waul iriMi he ean ears
ilMd. 'How, a new oaftoa^ Ib admiraM^r
adaptod to mich peiiomi> Them work ia
tlhntjn to be had, and neae eaa Ikf wMwat
dofai; a portion of il.
The incempetenl ooasiat of wmA penoaa
at, from Tariow eawea, are uiife hr the
pajrticolar department of ]abear in whioh
Ifteyare phKsed; and tUa nmj haNra aiiten
BOBH impel feet edncntien, wan^ ev cnpaei^y
or hattentieB. Waj y^mag men havev alter
n fongf apprentiteahip) fbond themietfee n»>
aMe to oempeto with elheff worfcmen in their
own tradof bo nm^ 80| that thejr haveftnnd
ftemselres naabla to obtain or to Rtun evK
ptoyment; and in an ev9 hoar they have
leeome dishoneet, Mid raadered themeelrea
anenaMe to the penalties of the law: To
snch peraoas tvanspertatieQ mny be a \A&m-
iag. With tito eppeitDaitjr of obtaining' n
ticket of leavo, th^ maj be aUe to earn an
henest and good Kring'* Tbcy cannot bnild
1^ meoflien, k may be; but they are net the
leaa adapted to eoDatvnct the cabin er tka
nnv* nesiaeif nica men are remeeeci irom
I9ie sphere of their degvadatien, and eaa
brcnthe fireely. They may again not only
is respeetod, bntybsl that they are ao. We
say that the change of place and olrram-
stances to sndi men is an advantage, lbs
they are at once removed from the circm»-
staacea which indnoed tiM crime, and fiom
the dsgradntian attendant npen the pmrisk
meal But snpposing the inconi{nt»ney to
arisn from aatnral canssa, even then tiis
remarks applying to the incompetenft fnm
deftetife cdneatien will appfy with stiil
grcnter wroo to him* Ha cannot snsem^
folly competo with ether men^ sad neves will
be aUb to de sa. Wei), hf bdng trans-
ported he is Tcmeiscd fteoti the Mtewity of
trykigi The kind of week whlok he has to
getfcnn is el so sfanple a chawietor thai it ia
net toimpssatMathmhaahorid fcil togwn
The% anik isMsata thsan w^M to I
psft themselTes nnngh indndipon, nantW
anA indahiiBs^ hsw adaoinbly
is a. wsll-dbnoted systam ef tiaas-
to flssst any er aM ef dNSoessmt
Tha emdndOF ^ \ ^
persons reqnirola a savers ceaase of p>ijiais>
good systm of
If aMnsi
, ks ha% whikt
to bo sev fcr his wetk aad hears if
woik are both prescribed by a rale wkseh ho
is obKged to obaosre. If ho is natantty
wastefal, ho has now no eppertnnity to be
aa, tir ho has nofnada at bin disposal; md
shenld ho be inMent, sbsidii his poNat
dissipMbo fail toeoss him, it is to bo ftared
thatnothiog-wilL
la eaciy wiso system or
two things wil be always
tain pantehmeat tothess who bseak the laws
of their prisoav aad certain hope ler all thms
who keep theaL By these meaaa adoaUs
modeo is placed beftse the eaaiki ftr ins-
proaesHnt. He knows that while m a eksto
of peobatiea if Ife donsmag, or act disardadft
ho mast snflbr ht H;^ sod ho knows that if
he do right the day will oonsa whsa he will
Ngam Us liberty, tagether with the peoer
to proaido hoaestl^ fir himself aad wtsf to
tot hb family; and he wiH ha pesuiittai to
take his standing in sseiety as an hoaooaUs
aad hoaeotsum^ bthmsespettthopowtim
of the rsehamed transport la mBnipamMy
better tfaaa that of the pfiMoarwhok is "ht
loose" npoa society after a ibw weeks' or
SMnthi^ impcisoament in a city prisSB. Few
peneas will so isr sympathiao witk snob a
aa to aaast him in obtaining taapioy'
if heaeo no resoaree is left lrini» sAer
hia imprisQonMit, bat to fiitt bask apM bis
eld pnrsaHs or die of
II. There ia a ehaa of
hardened that it to almeot hopetoea that they
wBl ever bo aoythiag elsa. They stml be-
cause they weald sathsr ttvo by i
byworfc. Oaghtthmopsnsas tobe
pottod? We answer, Tc
having wiifnlly viaUted tin hum <f tfjitf
iiwmiij, they do not dasecva to ha mtmasd
in or snppssted by it; sad traaapartstiM
eflbetnally pato it eoi eC their poair to
iajore homa aooietj sgaB. Saaantly, Bs>
oanaa trauapmtalion pHiaBli tho ealy maaas
of snshdodflff tham, short flf the pM« af
OUGHT TRAHaPOBTATIOgi TO BS ABOIJ8HBD ?
471
religion, which latter it is not in the promce
of flocietj to command.
W» hav« thvi, it will be peictlTe4, coa«
ddered tranepoHation in its adaptation to
the circnmBtances and prospeets of the oob-
yiet himself, and we felt tke importiDoe of
doiag so, m this phase ef the subject had
received so little previous attention in the
course of the debate. It now onlj remains
forns to brieflj review the arguments of our
opponents, and to suggest such refbting
thoughts as we beliere a just view of the
sul^ect will naturallj prompt
The first and most formidable objectiott to
transportation is its alleged injustice to so-
ciety in the penal settlements. This is what
£. W. S. designates '* an act of gross injustice
abroad," and what B. S., under the authoritj
of Loi4 BacQP, denounces as "a shameful
and unblessed thing." But bow do oar
friends arrive at tUs condnston? £. W. S.
does so by asserting that its origin, in the
early part of the eighteenth century, was in
the ** Mar and incapacity* of the goverament,
and l^ referring to the fact that the inha-
bitants of some of the colouies have protested
Sgainst the importation of more convicts
among them. In reply, we need only say
that the warkiag of a measure, not the cir.*
cunstances of its origin, must alone decide
its character as good or bad. Yes, friend
C W. S-, ** the axiomatic words ef Christ,
'By their fruits ye shaU know them,' hold
true here" also. With regard to the repog*
nance which the colonists manifest to receive
eonviola amonget thtm, we may say tiiat
this has not been always, nor generally the
esse, and that it has never been maintained
that transportation to <n^ colony, under o^y
eirowsstaBces, is desirable. Society ought
to be «s much progressive in the colonies as
in the mother countiy ; and if this be so^ the
period will arrive in the history of every
colony when not only more convicts ought
sot to be introduced, but when even penal
settlements will be required Idt their coa«
Tiets.
With respect to Lord Baoon*ii opinion,
as quoted by our generally sagacioua ep-
panenl B. 8., we may remark, that it was
not intended by its author to apply to our
nedm system of transportation, as ho
flourished long anterior to it, and that the
transportation to which he objected was one
that allowed men, to use his own words, to
"be lazy," to *<do mischief," and ^'UveUka
rogues f* and we need scarcely say that such
a system would not be advocated by us.
That oar own system of transportation
has been properly carried out we have never
beard asserted; and in maintaining that it
ought not to be abctished, we would not bo
uflidefstood as implying that in our efiinioo
it needs no reform. Experience will suggest
defects in the best conceived system, and it
is the province of wisdom to address Itself t«
their removal.
Transportation has been objaoted to on
account ef its expense; but " L'Oavrier" ha»
satisfaetorily shown that, as compared with
imprisonment at home, there is '^ an evident
saving in iavow of tnnsportatko."
Again, it has bee* asserted that tnaM^
portation has lost its terrors as a punish-
ment, and that ** the labouring classes of thia
country are laigdy imhoed with the iden
that transportation is a fortunate event." In
opposition !» this, the unsupported asaertmo
of B. S., we place the testimony of the pm*
sent Lord Chm Justice ef England, as given
in our ^>ening article, together with thn
natural love of the human heart ier hem»
and fhtheriand. That the«s have been eaae»
in which transportation has been coveted m
do not deny; nor will B. & deny that ther»
are aumerons cases in which crimeaare com*
mitted for the sske of the imprisonment;
and if fiun the former he concludes thah
traasportatten has kst its tenors to th*
majority of the people, and therefore OQght
to be abolished, he ought from the latter to
oooclada that impriMiiment has lost its tel^»
rors, and ought likewise to be abolished! Tk0
one conclusion is as reasonable as the other.
But, if transportation is to ba abolished^
w^t snbstituto for it wonhl our epponents
sfigK^*^^ Here, we fancy, they will iSnd
their ingenuity £aU them, for the woik of
coostructien is a iMfe difficult one than that
of destruction. The accnmulatiott of our
criminals in prisona and penitentiariaa, at tha
rate of some six or seven thouaand annnalljv
the enormous expense of their mamtenanee^
and the contamiaating Influence of their
society, would be no small evils to overcome.
In the success of the newly-invented tieket-
of-leave system we have no faith ; but beBsra
with Sir A. AHsao, tha historian ef Ennfi^
"* that these tiakatoof knve will be tickelaof
leave for the convicts to return to their old
hanuts, and to commence their old habits
J. M. S>
478
TBB IHQUIRBIU
Cljt Smjiirtr*
ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS.
164. ConvenaHon.—So **R. F. F./' the pro.
poser of this question is anxious to obtain " in-
noenoe and power of impression in company."
As yet no one has adtised him as to what coarse
he should adopt to seoure " so powerful a means
of /a«c<aa<<on," allow me, as CkriMtmat is op-
nroaching, to direct his attentioii to a good and
ttvely work on the subject, puUiahed under the
title of '< The Art of Conversation, with Remarks
on Fashion and Dress" by Captain Orlando
Sabertaah. From a perusal of this little volume
he will learn, if he has not learned before, that
fluency of speech and smoothness of uttennoe
Skre not the principal requisites to enable a man
to shine in intelligent company. On this snl^ect
the captain says :— " Fluency of tongue, and a
little modest assuranoe, though very well for im-
posing on the unwary, go but a very short way
when you have to deal witli those who are really
worth* pleasing. How can a persen shine by
conversation in elegant and educated society,
whose thoughts have never ranged beyond the
gratification of foolish vanity ana mean selfish-
ness; who has never reflected on life, men, and
maxmen ; whose mind has not tamed to the con-
templation of the works and wonders of nature ;
and who, in the events of his own time, has not
seen the results of the manr deeds of sorrow,
ahame, greatness, and glory, that crowd the pages
of the world's vanegated annals ? Whoever would
shine in polite discourse must at least be well
Tersed In the philosophy of life, and possess a
fair acquaintance with general and natural history,
•nd the outlines of science. And though he need
be neither a poet nor an artist, he must be well
relul in poetry, and acquainted with the fine arts ;
because it is only by their study that taste can be
cultivated, and &ncy guided. A ftoniliari^ with
the fine arts is necessary, in fact, to give him a
'ust perception of the sublime and beautiful, the
very foundation whence our emotions of delight
must arise. Any one attempting to shine in con-
▼ersation without possessing the triflina acquire-
ments here mentioned,— for I have said nothing
of learning and science, — will most assuredly
make an indifilerent figure, and had better there-
fore content himself with simply pleasing by un.
afiiscted cheerfulness and good humour, which
is within reach of all." 8. 6.
169. Bwnilcar.Ox of lUelearth^ appears to be a
•imilar compound of the name of the god Mekarth ,
as the following are of the Hebrew— -£<, Ood; e.g.
Adri^I, 1 Sam. xviU. 10. Flock of God. Aiitl,
Ezra viii. 10, lion of God. fiika, 3 Sam.
xadiL S5, Polioan of Ood, Oamaliel, Nam. i. 10,
Camel of Ood. M any similar compounds may be
found in several Oriental languages, as the Persic
Asp9tiMf the gift of the Aorse, i.e. JSramoA, &c.
W. O. H.
174. The AneietU £rteoiu.~A]low me to re-
commend to *'T. H. W.," who is desirous of
studying the history of the ancient Britons, J. A.
eOes's ^ History of the Ancient Britons," 8 vols.,
piM £1 10s. The work is published by Bell.
The *< Cambrian Register," and the *'Cambro
Briton," are, I believe, old hooka, but misfat, per-
haps, be obtained at second-hand book-&bopt.
A. C.
190. How to tiudy the 7\ietf .— The most philo-
sophical method of studying the poetry of any
uMon is first ckronoiogieaUy to notice the progress
oflanguage and expression of poetic thought; and
secondly, aatheticaUy^ or with a critic's fye anJ
pendl to mark all beautiful thoughts whicb are
well conceived and well expressed ; for frequent
reference and contemplation. I vrould «ld^i^e
"Septimus" to read the Enslish poets in the
order of their appearance, ana, if his taste be noc
yet fixed, to choose only those of the first^rlan.
such as Spencer, Milton, Shakspere, Pope, Co«-
per. Young, and Wordsworth : by this means, if be
reads with attention, his taste will in all prote-
bility be a pure one ; leave the minor poets fori
more leisurely study. After having done this, he
should review his work, and, relying on his own
judgment, mark with marginal lines all snch
passages as strike him with their sublimity, besuty,
or truth ; when he has thus dissected an sutbor,
the labour of after-reviewing, whidi must be
thorough and fkvquent, vrill be less tedious, since
' he already knows where the gems lie. Above ill
things the works of Shak^ere should absorb the
attention of" Septimus ;" they form in tbemMlTe^
a school of poetiy of every description. Shsk<p«nf
cannot be read, he must be studied, stntlied
like Virgil or Homer, with painful diligence, viib
deep thought, and the reward will exceed sntin-
pation. Another exercise I mxul eamestlv retvm-
mend to *< Septimus," if he wishes his know Wee
of English poetry to be thorooch, that i» ptrsllel
, reading. Read Hamlet's solfloquy, «* To bf or
I not to be," side by side with Cato's 9oUIo<(uf bj
'Addison, "It must be so;" and whilst studfin^
the penetrating analyzation of human eharaeterm
' ShsLKspere's dramatic works, read Pope's " E»sr
I on Man. ' Read Young's "Night Thoughts'^ witb
I Milton ; Campbell's •• Pleasures of Hope' wni
I Pollok's ** Course of Time," and so on. It
, *' Septimus" adopto this plan, stricUy foUowing ii
out to the very letter, he will acquire a peitt<t
knowledge of English poetry, and moROver by
the exerdsa his intellectual fiioalties will b^
strengthened, his mind elevated, his judsortU
fixed, and his soul being fUll of beautiliu tc'*
sublime thoughts will stretch to their ms|[iutud> ,
and become fitted for higher and still grrster
exertions. O'Dkll.
196. Building iSocteftcs.^ Having fur kxv
years past piud especial attention to all inmt'i
tions having for their object the |»roniotion f*'
provident habits am<nig the industrious elss*e«>
arid of which institutions building societies, pn^
perly constituted and managed, stand forvno^t, I
shall be very happy, on some early occasion, t^'
f^imlsh A. T. M., and the other readen of tbi«
valued periodical, with some authentic infonns-
tion relating to the oririn, constitotiou, and ps«t
and present position of benefit building societi.*
fVeehold land societies, and otiicr iastimtions ot •
similar diaraoler. C. W., Jun.
London : J. and W. Rider, Piintets, 14, BartlM>loiiMW Gkise.
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