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THE 


ECLECTIC    REVIEW. 


MDCCCXXXIII. 


JANUARY JUNE. 


THIRD  SERIES. 


VOL.  IX. 


jMi^<r«ff  n  H»)  *A^rrT«rtXi»ii»*  «XX'  3r«  i7^r«i  sWf*  ImmtJi  rimr  mIfUfimp 

rtf^«ncy  r«  'EKAE'KTIKON  ^tXc^tfSa*  fifu. 

Clem,  Aliz.  iS^rvm.  L.  1. 


LONDON: 
JACKSON    AND   WALFORD, 

18,  ST.  PAUL'S  CHURCH-YARD. 

1833. 


G.  WOODFALLf  AicacL  c<hjjit«  ikivmcr  nmuMT,  lonook. 


CONTENTS. 


( 


PACK 

Allport*s  Transbtion  of  Bp.  Davenant*8  Works 1S3 

America  anj  the  Americans,  by  a  Citizen  of  the  World           ....  SSS 

Annual  Biography  and  Obituary,  The,  for  18SS 179 

Anti-Slavery  Reporter,  The,  No.  104 ISB 

Arnold's  Principles  of  Church  Reform       . 176 

Auldjo*8  Sketches  of  Vesuvius 812 

Blair*s  Inquiry  into  the  State  of  Slavery  amongst  the  Romans     ....  S78 

British  Critic^  The.     Article  on  Robert  Hairs  Works 4«7 

Brown's  Biblical  Cabinet,  Vol.  II.              110 

Buccaneer,  The,  a  Tale 40 

Canadas,  The,  as  they  now  are.     By  a  late  Resident 3S8 

Causes,  The,  of  the  French  Revolution 861 

Chesney^s  Reports  of  the  Navigation  of  the  Euphrates           ....  S6S 
Christian  Observer,  The,  for  February.    Art.  Hall's  Works         .         .        ^         .180 

Clarke's  Concise  View  of  the  Succession  of  Sacred  Literature,  VoL  II.  .         .  382 

Cobbin*s  Moral  Fables  and  Parables 01 

Colton's  Manual  for  Emigrants 888 

Conder's  Wages  or  the  Whip,  an  Essay  on  the  Comparative  Cost  and  Productive- 
ness of  Free  and  Slave  Labour 544 

Correspondence 182.  266 

Cropper's  Vindication  of  a  Loan  of  fifteen  Millions  to  the  West  India  Planters  •  544 
Curtis's  Existing  Monopoly,  an  inadequate  Protection  of  the  Authorized  Version 

of  Scripture 500 

•  ■  .  ■ 

Davenant*s,  Bp.,  Exposition  of  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Colossians.  Tran&Uted  bv 

J.Allport 123 

Davis's  Ti-oe  Dignity  of  Homan  Nature 534 

Douglas's  Address  on  Slavery,  Sabbath  Protection,  and  Church  Reform       .         .851 

Elijah.     By  the  Author  of  "Balaam" 260 

Eliot's  Christianity  and  Slavery 883 

Essays  on  Religious  Subjects.     By  a  Layman 225 

Englishman's  Almanack,  The          . 04 

Entomological  Magazine      ...                450 

Fergusson*s  Practical  Notes  made  during  a  Tour  in  Canada        ....  SSB 

Fifty-one  Original  Fables,  with  Morals,  &c.            01 

Fbwers  of  Fable,  culled  from  Epictetus,  &c t6. 

Garrison's  Thoughts  on  African  Colonization         .         .         .         .         .         .  138 

GiUy's  Memoir  of  Felix  Neff 23 

Gre^weU's  Harmonia  Evangelica 1.  200 

— — ~ Dissertation  upon  the  Principles  and  Arrangement  of  a  Harmony  of 

the  Gospels ib. 

Gurney*8  Biblical  Notes  and  Dissertations 161 

Hairs  Works ,       .         .         .  180,487 

Halley's  Sinfulness  of  Colonial  Slavery 34(> 

Harmony,  A,  of  the  Four  Go5(h:1s «...  290 


J     )    ^^)J^' 


IV  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Heath's  Book  of  Beauty  for  18S3 88 

Hiaton*s  Harmony  of  Religious  Truth  and  Human  Reason  asserted             .         .413 
Hints  on  the  necessity  of  a  change  of  principle  in  our  Legislation,  for  the  efficient 
Protection  of  Society  from  Crime 468 

I>egion*s  Letter  to  Right  Hon.  E.  G.  Stanley,  &c 544 

Leifchild*s  Abbreviated  Discourses  on  various  Suljects  ....         434 

Lewises  Remarks  on  the  Use  and  Abuse  of  some  Political  Terms    .         .        .         473 
literary  Intelligence 95.  184.  269.  358.  451.  547 

Mackintosh's  Histor>'  of  England 97 

Martin's  Poor  Laws  for  Ireland,  a  Measure  of  Justice  to  England,  &c.         .  .     S25 

Mirabeau's  Letters  during  his  Residence  in  England 65 

Murat*s  Moral  and  Political  Sketch  of  the  United  States  of  North  America  .     233 

North  American  Review,  No.  LXXVIII i6. 

Oxford  Bibles.    Mr.  Curtis's  Misrepresentations  Exposed,  by  Dr.  CardwelT         .     509 

Pecchio's  Semi..serious  Observations  of  an  Italian  Exile  during  his  residence  in 
England 65 

Quarterly  Review,  No.  XCV.     Article  on  Robert  Hall's  Works        .         .        .189 
No.  XCVIL     Article  on  the  French  Revolution         .        .         361 

Report  from  Select  Committee  on  King's  Printers*  Patents     ....         609 

Secondary  Punishments  ....     453 

Rush's  Residence  at  the  Court  of  London 537 

Scholefield*s  Hints  for  an  Improved  Translation  of  the  New  Testament        .         .314 
Smedley's  History  of  the  Reformed  Religion  in  France  .         .         .        .         217 

Sprague's  Lectures  on  Revivals  of  Religion 287 

Statistical  Sketches  of  Upper  Canada,  for  the  Use  of  Emigrants     .        .        .         8S8 

Stickney's  Pictures  of  Private  Life 442 

Stuart's  Three  Years  in  North  America w         233 

Turton's  Text  of  the  English  Bibles  considered 509 

Whatcly's,  Abp.,  Thoughts  on  Secondary  Punishments 453 

Whychcotte  of  St.  John's 897 

Wilcox's  Religion  of  Taster  a  Poem 180 

Works  recently  published  .....         96.  187.  272.  360.  452.  548 

Year  of  Liberation,  The,  a  Journal  of  the  Defence  of  Hamburgh  against  the 
French  in  1813 54 


THE 


ECLECTIC    REVIEW, 


For  JANUARY,  1833. 


Art.  I.  1.  Harmonia  Evangelica,  sive  Quaiuar  Evangelia  Greece  pro 
Temporis  et  Rerum  Serie  in  Partes  Quinque  Distrihuta.  Edidit 
Edvardus  Greswell^  A.M.  Coll.  C.  C.  Apud  Oxon.  Socius.  8vo. 
pp.  418.     Oxon.  1830. 

2.  Dissertations  upon  the  Principles  and  Arrangement  of  a  Harmony 
of  the  Gospels.  By  the  Rev.  Edward  Greswell,  M.A.,  Fellow  oiF 
Corpus  Christi  College,  Oxfords  In 'three  Volumes,  pp.  xxx., 
598 ;  X.  574 ;  vi.  354.     Oxford,  ISSQ. 

"^LTE  are  not  entirely  xesponsible  for  tlie  delay  in  noticing  this 
erudite  and  valuable  performance,  which,  though  it  has^or 
so  long  a  time  passed  the  press,  will  probably  be  new  to  the 
greater  part  of  our  readers.  The  volumes  issue  from  the  Univer- 
sity press;  much  to  the  honour  of  the  learned  Delegates,  to 
whose  readiness  in  undertaking  the  publication  the  Author  ac- 
knowledges his  obligations.  But,  notwithstanding  the  high  aus- 
pices under  which  they  appear,  we  cannot  learn  that  they  have 
nitherto  obtained  the  share  of  attention  from  the  public,  to  which 
they  are  intrinsically  entitled ;  owing,  perhaps,  to  their  not  having 
been  made  known  by  the  usual  expedients  adopted  by  London 
publishers. 

The  "  Harmonia  Evangelica'*^  and  the  three  volumes  of  Pre- 
liminary Dissertations,  compose  one  connected  work.  In  the 
former,  the  evangelical  history  is  distributed  into  five  parts,  com- 
prising as  many  chronological  divisions:  these  are  subdivided 
into  sections,  the  text  of  the  Evangelists  being  arranged  in  two  or 
more  parallel  columns.  The  Dissertations  are  fifty  in  number, 
to  which  are  added  some  supplementary  disquisitions  and  notes, 
in  eight  appendices.  Of  the  object  and  purpose  of  these  disser- 
tations, which  form  a  connected  series,  we  shall  first  give  an  ac- 
count, taken  from  the  Author^s  own  synopsis. 

The  first  volume  comprises  thirteen  principal  Dissertations. 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  B 


2  Gresveirs  Harmony  and  Dissertations. 

The  first  three  are  intended  to  expound  and  establish  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  the  Harmony,  which  the  Author  rests  upon 
the  truth  of  the  following  propositions :  1.  That  the  last  three 
Gospels  are  regular  compositions ;  2.  That  St.  Matthew''s  Gospel 
is  partly  regular  and  partly  irregular ;  3.  That  each  Gospel  was 
written  in  the  order  in  which  it  stands ;  and  4.  That  each  of  the 
later  three  was  immediately  supplementary  to  the  prior  one.  It 
is  the  object  of  the  first  Dissertation,  to  confirm  these  proposi- 
tions by  a  mode  of  reasoning  which  assumes  nothing  but  the 
existence  of  the  Gospels  themselves :  it  is  entitled,  '  On  the  re- 

*  gularity  of  the  Gospels,  and  on  their  supplemental  relations  to 

*  each  other/  The  Second  Dissertation  is  an  historical  inves- 
tigation of  the  times  and  the  order  of  the  first  three  Gospels ; 
and  the  Third  treats  of  the  Irregularities  of  St.  Matthew''s  Gos- 
pel, comparing  its  details  with  the  accounts  given  in  the  three 
others.  The  Fourth  Dissertation  is  devoted  to  ascertaining  the 
true  date  of  the  Passover  mentioned  John  ii.  13,  ^  the  most  car- 

*  dinal  date  in  the  whole  of  the  Gospel  history  \  by  ascertaining 
the  sense  of  John  ii.  20.  The  verification  of  this  date  gives  oc- 
casion for  three  distinct  supplementary  dissertations,  which  are 
styled  Appendices:  No.  I.  is  intended  to  ascertain  the  rule  by 
which  Josephus  invariably  computes  the  reign  of  Herod ;  No.  II., 
to  confirm  the  statement  which  respects  the  length  of  the  Mac- 
cabean  dynasty ;  and  No.  III.,  to  shew,  that  neitner  the  evidence 
of  the  coin  of  Herod  Antipas,  nor  the  supposed  time  of  the 
eclipse  before  the  death  of  Herod,  is  inconsistent  with  the  true 
date  of  that  death  as  established  in  No.  I.  This  is  followed  by 
a  Computation  and  Table  of  Jewish  Passovers  and  other  feasts, 
in  Diss.  V.  Diss.  VI.  and  VII.  have  for  their  object,  respect- 
ively, to  reconcile  the  testimony  of  St.  Luke,  as  regards  the  fif- 
teenth  year  of  Tiberius  Caesar,  and  the  beginning  of  the  govern- 
ment of  Pontius  Pilate,  with  the  cardinal  date  established  in 
Diss.  IV.     The  next  ^  determines  the  interval  between  the  be- 

*  ginning  of  the  ministi^  of  John  the  Baptist  and  the  close  of  the 
'  ministry  of  Jesus  Christ ;  or  the  whole  length  of  time  embraced 
'  by  them  in  conjunction,  and  the  duration  assignable  to  each.'*  f  A 
dissertation  supplemental  to  this,  proves  that  the  time  of  the 
Baptist''s  imprisonment  is  not  at  variance  with  the  history  of  the 
marriage  of  Herod  and  Herodias.  The  Ninth  Dissertation  pro-> 
poses  to  determine  the  true  age  of  Our  Lord  at  his  baptism,  by 
ascertaining  the  exact  import  of  Luke  iii.  23 ;  and  the  following 
one  is  intended  to  establish  the  high  probability  that  the  day  of 
the  Nativity  was  the  tenth  of  the  Hebrew  month  Nisan,  cop- 
responding  to  the  fifth  of  the  Julian  April,  b.c.  4.  An  Appen- 
dix to  this  Dissertation  has  for  its  object  to  prove,  that  the  insti- 
tution of  the  Passover  took  place  b.c.  1560,  when,  in  like  man- 
ner, the  1 0th  of  Nisan  and  the  5th  of  April  coincided  both  with 


Grcflweirs  Ilarmimy  athd  Dis^BtiaHoM.  3 

each  other,  and  with  the  yemal  equinox.  In  the  Eleventh  Dis- 
sertation, the  opinions  of  the  earliest  Christian  writers  upon  the 
preceding  topics  are  examined.  Dissert.  XII.  examines  the  true 
sense  of  Luke  ii.  2«  in  reference  to  the  census  of  Cyrenius.  The 
last  dissertation  in  the  first  volume  treats  of  the  Prophecy  of  the 
Seventy  Weeks,  and  the  first  part  of  the  chronology  of  the  Acts  of 
the  Apostles ;  having  for  its  object,  to  complete  the  argument  in 
Diss.  VIII.  This  subject  is  pursued  in  Diss.  I.  of  the  second 
volume,  which  is  occupied  with  an  examination  of  the  chronology 
of  the  Acts  from  the  xiiith  chapter  forwards,  and  belongs  to  the 
first  Series. 

The  second  volume  contains  twenty-two  principal  Disserts^ 
tions.  The  subject  of  the  first  has  been  mentioned :  those  of  the 
five  following  may  be  briefly  stated.  II.  On  the  Two  Genea- 
logies. III.  Upon  the  Question,  Who  are  intended  by  the 
^Mextpo)  of  Christ.  IV.  On  the  date  of  the  Visit  of  the  Magi* 
V.  True  Nature  and  Design  of  the  Ministry  of  the  Baptist.  VI. 
On  the  Order  of  the  Temptations.  The  Seventh  is  entitled : 
^  On  the  hiatus  in  the  first  three  Gospels,  between  the  time  of 
^  the  Baptism  of  Our  Saviour  and  the  comifiehcement  of  his  mi- 
^  nistry  in  Galilee,  and  on  its  supplement  by  the  Gospel  of  St 
^  John.^  The  object  of  this  disquisition  is  to  shew,  that,  be^ 
ginning  his  narrative  precisely  where  the  other  evangelists  had 
left  off,  St.  John  conducts  it  regularly  down  to  the  point  of  time 
where  St.  Luke  had  begun  again.  To  this  is  subjoined  an  ap* 
pendix,  involving  the  question  of  the  Computation  of  Sabbatic 
Years,  one  of  which  is  shewn  to  have  actually  coincided  with  the 
first  year  of  Our  Saviour^s  Ministry.  The  Eighth  Dissertation, 
which  is  divided  into  four  parts,  is  designed  to  give  a  general 
preliminary  view  of  Our  Lord'^s  ministry  down  to  the  middle  of 
the  third  year.  The  next  six  Dissertations  (IX. — XIV.)  are 
devoted  to  the  discussion  of  particular  questions  relating  to  sup- 
posed trajections  or  anticipations  in  the  several  narratives.  The 
next  two,  in  continuation  of  the  subject  of  Diss.  VIII.,  illustrate 
the  supplementary  relation  of  John  vii. — xi.  54.,  to  the  first  three 
Gospels ;  and  of  Luke  ix.  51. — xviii.  ]  4,  to  those  of  Matthew  and 
Mark.  The  subjects  of  the  remaining  Dissertations  in  this  vo.^ 
lume  are :  XVII.  On  the  village  of  Martha  and  Mary.  XVIII. 
On  the  two  Dispossessions  recorded.  Matt.  xii.  and  Luke  xi. 
XIX.  On  the  notices  of  time  supplied  in  Luke  xii.  XX.  On 
the  occurrence  relating  to  the  Galileans,  Luke  xiii.  1 — 9.  XXI. 
On  the  question  concerning  Divorce,  Matt.  xix.  3— -12;  Mark 
X.  2 — 12.     XXII.  On  the  Miracles  performed  at  Jericho. 

The  object  of  the  six  consecutive  Dissertations  contained  in 
the  third  volume,  is,  to  harmonize  the  several  accounts  in  the 
ibur  Gospels,  from  the  time  of  Our  Lord'^s  arrival  at  Bethany 
before  the  last  Passover^  to  the  day  of  the  Ascension.     The  re- 

B  2 


4  Gretwell^t  Harmony  and  DissertcMona. 

mainder  of  the  volume  is  occupied  with  appendices,  comprising 
additional  illustrations  of  various  points  discussed  in  several  of 
the*  Dissertations.  These,  in  the  event  of  a  new  edition,  should 
cither  bo  incorporated  with  the  dissertations  to  which  they  relate, 
or  l>e  introduced  in  immediate  sequence.  Other  improvements  in 
the  distrilmtion  of  the  materials,  mieht  be  suggested.  The  three 
volumes  are  of  very  unequal  size,  tne  first  containing  much  the 
largest  number  of  pages;  and  if  we  add  the  100  pages  occupied 
by  the  first  dissertation  of  the  second  volume,  and  Appendices 
I.  to  v.,  which  also  belong  to  the  first  series  of  Dissertations, 
we  Nlmll  have  H2H  pages,  or  nearly  half  the  three  volumes,  the 
remainder  of  the  matter  occupying  7^4.  It  so  happens  that  the 
work  naturally  divides  itself  into  two  parts  at  this  place.  The 
first  Part  comprises  an  exposition  of  the  Author's  hypothesis 
with  resnect  to  the  composition  of  the  Gospels,  and  a  series  of 
disNortations  upon  the  chronology  of  the  New  Testament.  The 
Meccm<l  Part  consists  of  preliminary  disquisitions  upon  the  subject- 
matter  of  the  inspired  record,  and  of  an  application  of  the  Au- 
thor's hypothesis,  or  of  the  principles  upon  which  it  is  built,  to 
the  facts  recorded  by  the  Evangelists.  Had  Mr.  Greswell 
adopted  this  twofold  division  of  his  work,  assi^fiing  to  each  Part 
one  large  or  two  smaller  volumes,  and  subdividing  the  longer  Dis- 
sertations into  chapters,  instead  of  adding  a  series  of  appendices, 
^-it  would  greatly  have  improved  both  the  appearance  and  the 
arrangement  of  the  work. 

To  tile  Hiblical  student,  the  above  synopsis  of  the  Contents 
will  not  fail  to  convey  a  general  idea  of  the  extremely  interesting 
and  Important  nature  of  the  Author's  labours  ;  characterized  by  a 
range  of  erudition,  a  patience  of  investigation,  and  a  degree  of 
critical  ability,  that  entitle  him  to  take  his  rank  with  Lardner, 
(Irlenlmch,  and  Michaclis,  in  the  first  class  of  those  who  have 
sealously  consecratiHl  profound  scholarship  to  the  illustration  of 
the  ( linstlan  Scriptures.  Such  a  work  must  go  some  way  towards 
vindicating  the  literature  of  the  day  from  the  charge  of  universal 
fVlvollty  or  suuerlicialness ;  and  it  is  with  peculiar  satisfaction 
that  we  (Ind  (ixfortl  beginning  to  cultivate  a  species  of  learning 
which  has  of  late  licen  almost  monopolised  by  the  German  critics. 
Among  the  curious  and  recondite  questions  discussed  in  the  first 
volume,  and  which  are  but  remotely  connected  with  the  Harmony 
itself,  there  are  some,  the  Author  remarks,  which  have  exercised 
the  ingenuity  of  learneil  men,  without  their  arriving  at  any  satis- 
fkctory  ctmclusions,  ever  since  the  revival  of  letters. 

'  Nor  am  I»*  ho  adds,  M*ain  enough  to  supp<Mie  that  they  have  been 
■ettled  by  my  own  individual  attempts.  It  will  not  be  laid  to  my 
chargt\  however,  that  what  could  reanonablv  be  exi)ccted  frt>m  the  ex- 
ortioiiii  of  one  pornon,  has  not  been  perfiv  d  to  tne  utmost ;  that  I 
have  not  endeavoured  to  sift  every  que  to  the  bottom  ;  that  the 


GreswelPs  Harmony  and  Dissertations,  5 

pains  and  labour  of  the  investigation  have  not  been  commensurate  to 
the  diiiiculty  or  importance  of  the  end  proposed.  If  I  have  erred,  it 
has  been  on  the  score  of  an  over-anxious  diligence  to  render  my  Dis- 
sertations even  tediously  scrupulous  and  elaborately  minute,  rather 
than  leave  them  perfunctory  or  superficial.  Perhaps,  too,  there  are 
some  of  these  controverted  instances,  in  which  I  may  be  considered  to 
have  approximated  to  the  truth  as  nearly  as,  under  the  circumstances 
of  the  case,  was  practicable;  for,  if  the  results  of  the  speculations  of 
learned  men  upon  such  questions  are  not  every  where  final  and  de- 
cisive, the  cause  must  be  ascribed  to  a  defect  for  which  no  ingenuity 
nor  industry  can  compensate,  the  defect  of  data.  In  the  course  of  my 
researches,  it  has  more  than  once  fallen  to  my  lot  to  observe  that  very 
great  names,  in  every  department  of  sacred  literature,  have  lapsed  in- 
to mistakes,  and  mistakes  which  frequently  might  have  been  avoided. 
Nor  do  I  mention  this  as  if  to  claim  any  merit  to  myself  for  discover- 
ing errors  into  which  they  had  fallen,  much  less  to  put  myself  on  a 
footing  of  equality  with  them,  but  that  I  may  plead  the  failures  of 
more  competent  and  more  learned  persons  in  extenuation  of  my  own.' 

Pref,  pp.  xi,  xii. 

The  nresent  work  first  suggested  itself  to  the  Author,  in  the 
course  or  an  examination  of  the  most  popular  Harmonies,  which 
he  was  led  to  consult,  in  preparing  an  exposition  of  the  Gospel 
Parables.  The  striking  inconsistencies  which  he  observed  in  the 
several  Harmonies  he  examined,  convinced  him  that  the  prin- 
ciples upon  which  they  rested,  could  not  be  correct ;  and  the 
dissatisfaction  produced  by  this  discovery,  induced  him  to  lay 
them  all  aside,  and  to  take  the  four  original  narratives  into  his 
hands,  with  a  view  to  frame  for  himself  a  system  that  should 
at  least  avoid  the  difficulties  that  appeared  so  glaring  and  pal- 
pable in  the  works  referred  to.  The  result  of  this  endeavour,  is 
the  Harmony  before  us,  which  has  assumed  a  shape  very  dif- 
ferent from  the  idea  of  it  which  its  Author  had  originally  con- 
ceived. Had  he  fully  comprehended  the  extent  of  his  undertaking, 
and  into  how  wide  a  field  of  research  and  disquisition  it  would 
lead,  he  must  have  shrunk  b«ck,  he  says,  from  the  arduous  at- 
tempt ;  and  he  considers  it  as  a  fortunate  circumstance,  that  he 
was  too  inextricably  involved  in  the  task,  and  too  deeply  in- 
terested in  its  completion,  to  be  able  or  disposed  to  recede  from 
its  prosecution,  when  experience  had  convinced  him  of  its  mag- 
nitude and  difficulty.  The  rule  which  he  determined  to  adopt, 
was,  to  trust  as  much  as  possible  to  his  own  researches,  so  that 
the  work,  though  of  course  containing  much  that  is  in  accord- 
ance with  the  opinions  and  conclusions  of  preceding  writers,  is 
strictly  original,  being  the  result  of  an  independent  inquiry. 
While  prepared  to  find  that  he  has  been  anticipated  in  many 
things,  Mr.  Greswell  states,  that  he  has  abstained  from  intro- 
ducing any  borrowed  matter ;  and  regarded  as  a  whole,  the  Har- 
mony which  he  offers  to  the  public,  may  still  be  considered  as  un- 
like any  other.     He  disclaims  all  affectation  of  novelty  or  the 


0  Greswell^s  Harmony  and  DuserioHons. 

wish  to  deviate  without  reason  from  the  opinions  of  his  predeces- 
sors,    *  Could  I/  he  says,  '  have  met  with  any  Harmony  which 

*  was  not  apparently  fraught  with  more  difficulties  than  it  was  in- 

*  tended  to  remove,  most  gladly  would  I  have  acquiesced  in  its 

*  use.'  The  number  and  diversity  of  the  Harmonies  in  circula- 
tion, afford  a  presumption  that  the  true  principle  remains  to  be 
ascertained,  upon  which  a  perfect  Harmony  is  to  be  constructed, 
or  such  a  one  as  should  unite  the  suffrages  of  the  learned  in  fa- 
vour of  its  satisfactory  character. 

'  If  it  is  not  in  the  nature  of  things  impossible  for  the  four  Oos« 
pel  narratives  to  be  satisfeietorily  reduced  to  one,  it  is  not  in  the  na- 
ture of  things  impossible  for  a  perfect  Harmony  to  be  composed  :  but, 
as  only  one  method  of  reconciling  these  accounts  can  be  abjsolutely  just 
and  true,  so  only  one  Harmony,  such  as  should  be  founded  altogether 
en  the  principle  of  that  method,  would  be  absolutely  just  and  perfect/ 

Frej.  p.  HI. 

What  is  not,  in  the  nature  of  things,  impossible,  is  sometimes, 
however,  from  circumstances,  impracticable ;  and  how  desirable 
soever  it  may  be  to  harmonize  the  order  and  succession  wi  events 
in  the  several  Gospels,  we  cannot  for  a  moment  admit  the  neces- 
sity of  ascertaining  the  true  method  of  reconciling  apparent  dis- 
crepancies, in  order  to  vindicate  the  credibility  and  consistency 
of  the  narratives.  This  would  be  a  gratuitous  concession  to  the 
sceptic,  which  the  nature  of  the  c&se  does  not  warrant.  Mr. 
Gresswell  remarks,  that,  ^with  some  minds,  the  difference  of 

*  opinion  which   prevails   among  commentators  upon  Scripture, 

*  the  great  variety   and   incompatibility   between   their  several 

*  modes  of  reconciling  the  same  accounts,  would  be  calculated  ta 

*  operate  rejlexively  against  the  belief  of  the'  truth,  or  the  con- 

*  sistency  of  the  accounts  themselves.''  But  would  this  be  a  ra- 
tional inference  ?  If  there  are  various  modes  of  reconciling  inde- 
pendent accounts  of  the  same  transactions  that  appear  to  differ, 
although  but  one  mode  can  be  the  true  one,  yet,  the  possibility  of 
reconciling  them  is  established  by  the  diverse  hypotheses ;  and 
the  objection  founded  upon  their  alleged  incompatibility  falls  to 
the  ground.  That  objection  originates  in  our  imperfect  know- 
ledge of  all  the  circumstances,  and  of  all  the  relations  of  time 
and  place  affecting  the  order  and  succession  of  the  events  recorded. 
Such  perfect  knowledge  of  the  circumstances  as  would  enable  us 
to  adjust  their  precise  order  with  certainty,  is  unattainable ;  but 
if  we  can  hypothetically  harmonize  them,  although  the  hypothesis 
be  but  an  approximation  to  the  fact,  it  will  suffice  to  shew  that 
no  necessary  incompatibility  exists.  If  the  theory  employed  is 
jBraught  with  more  difficulties  than  it  is  intended  to  remove,  this 
is  a  good  reason  for  distrusting  its  correctness ;  but  it  may  still  be 
of  use  as  shewing  that  these  difficulties  are  capable  of  solu- 


liresweffB  Harmony  and  Dissertations.  7* 

tron; — ^if  by  the  false  hypothesis,  still  more  by  the  true  one. 
AH  that  is  requisite  is,  that  we  prove  there  is  no  essential  dis- 
^reement  between  the  separate  accounts :  the  rest  is  matter  of 
curiosity,  or,  at  least,  of  subordinate  importance. 

Even  althoujijh  the  present  Writer  should  be  thought  to  have 
failed  to  detect  the  true  method,  or  to  construct  a  perfect  Har- 
mony, the  value  of  his  labours  will  suffer  little  depreciation  on 
that  account.     The  satisfactory  determination  of  the   various 
questions  that  present  themselves  in  the  course  of  the  attempt  to 
reconcile  and  arrange  the  details  of  the  four  Gospels,  is  far  more 
important  than  the  object  proposed  as  the  ultimate  result.     The 
greater  part  of  these  Dissertations  have  for  their  immediate  de* 
sign,  to  clear  up  points  affecting  not  so  much  the  harmony  of  the 
various  accounts,  as  the  credibility  or  accuracy  of  each  particular 
narrative.     We  do  not  mean  to  deny  the  utility  of  Harmonies  ; 
but  we  are  inclined  to  consider  their  indirect  utility  as  greater 
than  their  direct  benefit.  It  is  often  by  an  assumed  hypothesis  that 
the  philosopher  is  conducted  to  the  discovery  of  recondite  facts, — 
facts  not  merely  more  certain,  but  more  important  than  the  prin- 
ciple it  was  sought  to  establish.     The  construction  of  a  diatessaron 
is  the  purpose  to  which  the  scheme  of  the  Harmonist  is  intended 
to  be  subservient ;  but  no  diatessaron  can  possess  the  authority^ 
the  internal  evidence,  and  the  effectiveness  of  the  separate  docu- 
ments.    The  stamp  of  genuineness,  the  seal  of  Inspiration  are 
wanting.      Digests  or   summaries   of   the   evangelical    history, 
whether  in  the  words  of  the  Evangelists  or  not,  are  legitimate 
vehicles  of  religious  instruction  ;  but  they  must  never  be  substi- 
tuted for  the  four  Gospels.  That  would  be,  to  shape  by  the  wisdom 
of  man  the  wisdom  of  God, — to  bend  the  rule  of  faith  to  our 
own  notions   of  harmony   and  fitness, — and,  by  obscuring  the 
genuineness,  to  weaken  to  a  great  degree  the  authority  of  Scrip- 
ture.    Harmonies  are  for  the  learned,  not  for  the  unlearned : 
they  are  of  more  service  in  silencing  the  cavils  of  the  sceptic, 
than  in  edifying  the  plain  and  ingenuous  believer.     They  form  a 
valuable  part  of  the  expository  apparatus  for  illustrating  the 
sacred  text,  as  they  enable  the  commentator  or  teacher  to  throw, 
as  it  were,  upon  each  Gospel,  the  concentrated  light  of  all.     They 
afford  a  tabular  view  of  the  substantial  accordance,  the  charac- 
teristic difference,  and  the  separate  value  of  the  four  documents 
respectively,  and  serve  as  an  illustrative  index  to  their  contents. 
But  here,  we  think,  their  legitimate  purpose  terminates. 

'  No  one,'  Mr.  Greswell  remarks,  *  can  study  the  Gospels  with 
'  that  attention  which  they  deserve,  or  with  that  sense  of  personal 
^  interest  in  them  which  they  are  calculated  to  excite,  without 
*  endeavouring  to  harmonize  them,  in  some  manner  or  other,  for 
^  himself.'    This  is  true.     But  there,  is  a  great  difference  be- 


8  Gresweirs  Harmony  and  Dissertations. 

tween  harmonizing  the  statements  of  the  four  witnesses,  and  har-^ 
monizing  the  order  in  which  they  severally  narrate  particular  cir- 
cumstances and  sayings,  by  reducing  them  to  one  chronological 
arrangement.     If  their  statements  could  not  be  reconciled,  it 
would  affect  the  credibility  of  at  least  one  of  the  witnesses ;  but 
that  they  should  observe  a  different  order,  forms  no  objection,  un- 
less they  each  professed  to  adhere  to  a  strict  chronological  ar- 
rangement.    This  is  not  the  case  ;  and  the  hypothesis,  that  the 
Four   Evangelists   constantly  observed   such   an   order,  is   not 
merely  encumbered  with  insuperable  difficulties,  but  is  utterly  de- 
ficient in  probability.     Many  reasons  might  be  given  for  their 
observing  a  different  order.  A  work  may  be  a  regular  composition, 
without  being  a  regular  history.     The  plan  and  design  of  the 
writer  may  require  that  he  should  bring  together  facts  or  dis- 
courses of  a  certain  class^  without  reference  to  the  topographical 
scene  of  the  one,  or  the  immediate  occasion  of  the  other ;  in  order 
to  present  the  evidence  they  furnish  in  a  cumulative  shape,  or  as 
specimens  of  what  took  place  at  many  times  and  in  many  places. 
The  connexion  will  not,  m  such  a  case,  be  less  real  or  natural,  be- 
cause it  is  the  connexion  of  subject,  not  that  of  chronology.     We 
admit  that  a  transposition  in  the  order  of  leading  events,  would, 
if  unexplained,  affect  not  merely  the  regularity,  but  the  accuracy, 
if  not  the  absolute  truth  of  the  history  ;  whereas  transpositions  of 
illustrative  incidents  and  topics  are  allowable  even  to  an   his- 
torian, and  still  more  natural  in  a  composition  which  is  not  simply 
or  strictly  historical. 

Most  Harmonists  have  set  out  with  the  assumption,  which  we 
cannot  but  regard  as  altogether  erroneous,  that  the  four  Gospels 
are  alike  regidar  and  independent  histories ;  or  that,  at  least,  the 
first  three  are  Gospels  communis  generis^  and  must  be  classed 
together.  Mr.  Greswell  in  some  degree  sanctions  the  latter 
opmion,  with  this  modification ;  that,  though  each  is  a  history  of 
the  rise  and  progress  of  the  Evangelical  dispensation,  no  one  of 
them  is  a  separate  and  independent  account.     '  Like  the  subject 

•  to  which  they  all  relate,  they  are  so  connected  together,  that 

•  the  one  entire  histoiy  of  this  one  entire  scheme,  is  that  which  is 

•  made  up  of  them  all.'  Our  Author's  hypothesis  with  regard  to 
the  supplemental  character  of  the  last  three,  we  shall  examine 
presently ;  but  it  appears  to  that  the  first  Gospel,  that  of 
Matthew,  is  a  composition  ve-  ent  in  itsj^nicture  from  those 
of  Mark  and  Luke.  M^^  iiflf'^^^HiBed,  that  the 
Gospel  of  St.  Matthew  *  r  %ular  in  part ; 

•  while  the  Gospels  of  "t  John  are 

•  regular  throughout'  IkMatthew 
is  not  a  less  regular  co  ^Ui  it  it 
not,  and  does  not  prof!  ^ig  hav^ 


GreswelVs  Harmony  and  Dissertationa.  9 

elsewhere  endeavoured  to  shew  ♦,  an  account  of  the  ministry  of 
Our  Lord,  with  copious  specimens  of  his  discourses,  having  for 
its  specific  object,  to  establish  his  M essiahship,  and  to  combat  the 
objections  of  the  Jews*     The  historical  notices  are  brief  and,  as  it 
were,  incidental  and  subsidiary  to  the  main  purpose.    St.  Matthew 
wrote  his  Gospel   for  the  use,  primarily,  of  the  Christians  of 
Palestine ;  at  a  period,  probably,  when  all  the  historical  facts  were 
fresh  and  notorious.     Hence,  he  is  much  more  concise  than  any 
of  the  Evangelists  in  narrating  occurrences,  except  when  referring 
to  such  as  were  called  in  question  by  the  Jews.    In  narrating,  for 
instance,  the  story  invented  by  the  chief  priests  to  account  for  the 
disappearance  of  Our   Lord^'s  body  from  the  sepulchre,  he  is 
remarkably  particular  and  minute ;  and  yet,  he  does  not  mention 
the   Ascension.     There  are  other  peculiarities  in  this  Gospel, 
which,  together  with  the  supposed  irregularities,  seem  to  us  to 
admit  of  easy  and  natural  explanation  according  to  the  view  we 
have  taken  of  it,  but  which  ill  agree  with  the  character  of  regular 
history.     Upon   this  ground,   and  not  because  we    deem    the 
irregularities  of  St.  Matthew^s  Gospel  greater  than  those  of  the 
other  Evangelists,  we  think  with  Mr.  Greswell,  that  it  cannot  be 
safely  made,  throughout,  the  basis  of  a  Harmony  for  the  rest. 
In  the  following  remarks,  some  of  the  points  of  characteristic 
difference  between  the  several  Evangelists,  are  ably  discriminated. 

'  The  argument  of  those  learned  men  who  contend  that>  because 
St.  Matthew  would  write  as  an  eye-witness,  he  would  write  the 
most  regularly  of  all,  however  plausible  in  theory,  is  completely  false 
in  ^Eict.  Nor,  indeed,  is  it  difficult  to  retort  the  argument ;  for  one, 
like  St.  Luke,  or  St.  Mark,  who,  though  not  an  eye-witness,  yet 
proposed  to  write  an  account  of  the  same  things,  it  might  natursdly 
be  supposed,  even  humanly  speaking,  would  take  so  much  the  greater 
pains  to  remedy  this  very  defect ;  both  to  acquire  a  perfect  knowledge 
of  his  subject,  and  to  verify,  in  every  instance,  the  order  of  his  facts. 
Meanwhile,  if  St.  Matthew  in  particular,  though  he  must  have  written 
as  an  eye-witness,  has  yet  written  at  all  irregularly,  this  may  be  a 
-  good  presumptive  evidence  that  he  must  have  written  early, — while  the 
recollection  of  the  facts  was  still  unimpaired, — and  among,  and  for, 
eye-witnesses  as  well  as  himself,  whose  own  knowledge,  or  possibilities 
of  knowledge,  would  supply  omissions  or  rectify  transpositions  for 
themselves. 

<  Those  also  who  contend  that  the  principle  of  classification  is  the 
characteristic  principle  of  St.  Luke*s  Gospel,  are  not  less  mistaken : 
for,  while  St.  Luke  is  uniformly  attentive  to  historical  precision, 
this  constructive  tendency,  by  which  facts  really  distinct  in  the  order 
of  time,  are  brought  together  out  of  deference  to  certain  principles  of 

:ociation,   and  related   consecutively,    is    rather    the    predominant 

iracteristic  of  St.  Matthew.  The  structure  of  all  the  Gospels,  indeed, 

•  Edec.  Rev.  Third  Series,  Vol.  V.  p.  379. 


10  Greswell'^s  Harmony  and  Dissertations* 

as  far  as  they  enter  into  detail,  is  anecdotal, — or  a  selection  of  particular 
passages  out  of  a  much  larger  and  a  more  continuous  narrative ;  the 
eifect  of  which  structure  is,  necessarily,  that  each  particular  stands  in 
a  great  measure  by  itself,  and  has  little  or  no  connection  with  either 
what  precedes  or  what  follows  it  ...  .  This  anecdotal  arrangement 
is  a  different  thing  from  the  principle  of  classification.  And  even  this 
is  only  so  far  peculiar  to  St.  Luke,  compared  with  St.  Matthew  or 
with  St.  Mark,  that,  without  altering  or  disturbing  the  order  of 
succession,  he  has  communicated  to  the  particulars  of  his  Gospel,  in 
many  instances,  the  most  integral  and  independent  shape,  the  most 
separate  and  detached  position  of  any. 

'  St.  John's  Gospel,  from  its  peculiar  relation  to  the  rest,  could  not 
be  otherwise  than  a  digest  of  remarkable  passages,  following  at  great 
intervals  of  time,  and  almost  entirely  independent  of  each  other.  And 
the  CTeat  vivacity,  minuteness,  and  circumstantiality  of  detail  with 
which  he  has  invested  all  these  accounts,  are  truly  wonderful,  and 
among  the  strongest  internal  evidences  of  the  inspiration  and  truth  of 
a  Gospel  written  so  long  after  the  events  which  it  records,  and  so  late 
in  the  life-time  of  its  Author.  Yet,  St.  Matthew,  notwithstanding  his 
characteristic  differences  in  other  respects,  has  defined  with  more 
precision  than  any  of  the  rest,  the  eras  of  certain  memorable  events  ; 
as,  when  Jesus  b^an  to  preach  publicly, — when  to  teiach  in  parables, — 
when  to  predict  his  sufferings  and  death  mthout  disguise, — when  the 
Apostles  began  to  dispute  about  precedency, — and  when  Judas  con- 
ceived the  design  of  betraying  his  master.  And  this  also  may  be 
another  proof  that  he  wrote  early,  and  as  an  eye-witness  of  what  he 
relates;  and  not  late,  nor  as  one  who  had  obtained  his  information 
from  others.'     Vol.  I.  pp.  185 — 7» 

In  the  process  of  constructing  a  Harmony,  these  characteristic 
differences  naturally  force  themselves  upon  the  attention  of  s 
competent  critic ;  but,  in  the  Harmony  or  Diatessaron  itseU^ 
they  become  obscured  or  lost.  The  variations  and  apparent 
discrepancies  in  the  several  narrations,  are  there  exhibited  in  a 
naked  and  palpable  form,  while  the  reason  of  them  is  not  seen  ; 
and  the  proprieties  of  the  composition  are  nearly  as  much  violated 
by  the  perpetual  interpolation  of  passages  from  the  several 
Evangelists,  as  they  would  be  in  a  work  composed  of  consecutiTe 
extracts  from  three  or  four  authors  of  different  countries.  Some 
further  points  of  difference  are  adverted  to  in  the  following 
paragraphs. 

'  It  will  scarcely,  perhaps,  be  disputed,  that  St.  Mark  was  a  Jew, 

and  that  St.  Luke  was  not The  internal  evidence  of  the  Gospel 

of  St.  Mark  is  altogether  in  favour  of  the  presumption,  that  the  Writer 
of  this  Gospel  in  particular  must  have  been  a  Jew ;  and,  whether  a 
Jew  of  Palestine  or  not,  yet  intimately  connected  with  the  language^ 
the  topography,  the  idioms  of  Palestine,  and  familiar  even  with  the 
habits  and  associations  of  a  native  Jew.  And  the  argument  from  thi» 
evidence  is  rendered  so  much  the  stronger,  because,  in  all  or  most  of 
those  respects  which  characterize  a  native  Jew,  St.  Mark  agrees  %yith 


GresweU'i  Harmony  and  Dissertations^  W 

St.  Matthew  and  St.  John,  who  were  unquestionably  native  Jewg, 
and  differs  from  St.  Luke,  who  was  unquestionably  not  a  native 
Jew.  ....  That  St.  Mark  did  not  write  for  Jews,  nor  for  persons  pre- 
viously acquainted  with  Judea,  is  not  less  apparent  from  the  character 
of  his  Gospel,  compared  with  St.  Matthew's ;  but  that  he  himself  was 
a  Jew,  or  intimately  familiar  with  Judea,  does  not  admit  of  a  question. 
•  .  .  Not  to  specify  such  remarkable  passages  in  this  Gospel,  as,  con- 
trasted with  similar  passages  in  St.  Matthew's,  would  prove  this  to 
have  been  expressly  written  for  Gentile  belie vers-es  such ;  the  frequency 
of  Latin  terms  or  phrases  clothed  in  Greek,  (scarcely  any  of  which 
occur  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke,  and  not  so  many  in  the  Gospel  of  St. 
Matthew,  and  still  fewer  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,)  would  prove  it  to 

have  been  designed  for  Roman  converts  in  particular  * It  is  no 

objection  that  a  Gospel,  though  written  at  Rome,  should  still  have 
been  written  in  Greek;  or,  in  other  words,  the  hypothesis  which 
supposes  St.  Mark's  Grospel  to  have  been  originally  published  in  Latin, 
is  unnecessary  as  well  as  untenable.  The  Epistle  to  the  Romans  is  a 
case  in  point ;  and  yet  that  was  written  in  Greek  ;  and  such  was  the 

1>revalence  of  this  language  almost  every  where,  that  even  in  Gaul,  the 
aw  proceedings  were  carried  on  in  Greek  ;  bargains  of  every  kind  were 
indited  in  Greek ;  and  the  Roman  Satirist  could  say, 

*'  Nunc  totus  Graias  nostrasque  habet  orbis  Athenas, 
Gallia  causidicos  docuit  ^unda  Britannos, 
De  oonducendo  loquitur  jam  rhetore  Thule." 

'  It  is  much  to  be  doubted,  whether  the  Latin  language,  even  in  the 
Roman  dominions,  was  ever  so  generally  in  use ;  in  which  case,  both 
the  perpetuity  and  the  utility  of  a  Gospel,  though  composed  at  Rome, 
were  best  consulted  by  composing  it,  not  in  Latin,  but  in  Greek.' 
Vol.  I.  pp.  79 ;  80,  1 ;  98. 9. 

Mr.  Greswell,  by  a  series  of  ingenious  deductions,  endeavours 
to  establish  the  strong  probability,  that  St.  Mark'*s  Gospel  was 
composed  or  published  at  Rome  about  a.d.  54.  To  St.  Matthew^s, 
he  is  disposed  to  assign  a  date  about  twelve  years  earlier.  The 
reasons  given  for  this  conjecture  are  not  very  satisfactory,  although 
the  opinion  is  sanctioned  by  ancient  authorities,  and  is  in  ac^ 
eordance  with  probability.  By  the  eleventh  or  twelfth  of  Nero, 
at  all  events,  ^  there  was  no  Apostle  left  in  Judea,  by  whom  a 

*  Hebrew  Gospel  might  have  been  written :  the  Hebrew  Church 
^  itself  had  been,  for  a  time,  dispersed ;  for  the  Jewish  war  was 

*  begun .'*  Our  Author  adopts  and  vindicates  the  tradition,  that  St. 
Matthew^'s  Gospel  was  written  originally  in  the  vernacular 
language  of  Palestine,  improperly  called  Hebrew.  The  disap- 
pearance of  the  genuine  Hebrew  Gospel  is  accounted  for  on  the 

*  Several  instances  of  this  kind  are  given.  The  most  decisive,  the 
Author  thinks,  are  the  two  explanations — Xj9rr«  Ivo'  o  Wn  xo^^aivrriq — 
and,  uvXri<i'  o  lain  tpoutu fiop :  which  are  '  manifestly  intended  to  render 
something  intelligible,  as  it  would  seem,  to  the  ideas  of  Romans ;  nor 
does  any  thing  like  them  occur  in  the  other  Gospels.' 


13  GreswelTs  Harmony  and  DUsertaiions. 

Bupposition,  that  the  authority  of  the  translation  was  known  and 
acknowledged  from  the  first,  as  equal  to  that  of  the  original; 
which  it  would  be,  if  rendered  into  Greek  by  one  of  the  Apostles. 
According  to  Athanasius,  it  was  translated  by  *  James  the  Loid*s 
Brother,^  while  another  less  credible  tradition  assigns  it  to  St 
John.  Mr.  Greswell  ventures  the  novel  conjecture,  that  St 
Mark  translated  the  Hebrew  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew,  and  wrote 
his  own  supplementary  to  it.  The  ingenious  reasoning  by  which 
this  supposition  is  supported,  we  shall  transcribe. 

'  No  supposition  is  better  calculated  to  explain  whatever  there  is  in 
St.  Mark's  Gospel  peculiar  to  that,  as  compared  with  St.  Matthew's, 
and  yet,  what  tnere  is  in  common  in  both ;  what  it  agrees  in  with  bis, 
and  what  it  diifers  in  from  his ;  their  verbal  coincidences,  both  in  the 
historical  and  in  the  discursive  parts,  throughout ; — the  deviation  from 
St.  Matthew  in  the  arrangement  of  some  detached  fiEu:ts^  with  an  ab- 
solute coincidence  in  the  general  outline  of  the  whole ; — the  circum- 
stantiality of  detail  in  the  history  of  miracles,  and  the  conciseness  in 
the  report  of  discourses^  which  are  the  reverse  of  each  other  in  each  ;-^ 
the  omission  of  nothing  by  St.  Mark,  recorded  by  St.  Luke,  which  is 
not  also  omitted  bv  St.  Matthew ; — ^^he  very  supplementary  relation  of 
St.  Mark's  Gospel  to  St.  Matthew's : — all  whicn  things  are  critically 
characteristic  of  one  Gospel  adapted  to  another, — of  St.  Mark's  Grees 
adapted  to  St.  IMatthew's  by  a  common  hand,  as  the  author  of  the  one, 
and  the  translator  of  the  other ;  and  forming  both  tc^ther,  and  always 
designed  to  form,  neither  more  nor  less  than  one  work.    If  there  ia  any 
difference  between  them  in  certain  proprieties  of  idiom,  confined  to  either 
respectively,  this  may  be  explained  on  the  principle  that,  in  his  own 
Gospel,  St.  Mark  would  ^vrite  in  his  natural  character;  in  translating  St. 
Matthew,  he  would  be  restricted  to  that  of  his  original.    The  same  con- 
jecture solves  the  problem  concerning  the  origin  of  the  Greek  Grospelof  St. 
Matthew  more  satisfactorily  than  any  which  has  yet  been  aavanced, 
and  brings  Irenseus's  testimony  (respecting  its  date)  as  near  as  possible 
to  the  truth. .  .  •  The  Translator  must  have  been  some  one  of  equal 
authority  with  St.  Matthew  himself:  otherwise  his  translation  could 
never  have  superseded  the  original.     The  translator  of  St.  Matthew's 
Gospel,  too,  not  merely  from  the  great  variety  of  Hebrew  words  and 
phrases  simply  clothed  in  Greek,  which  the  translation  exhibits,  but 
from  certain  isolated  expressions  more  remarkable  than  others,  which 
may  be  cited  from  it,  shews  plainly  that,  in  translating  from   Hebrew 
into  Greek,  he  was  translating  from  a  language  which  was  his  own, 
into  a  language  which  was  not.     Thus  Matt.  v.  22.  'paaei — Ma;^/— 
both  Hebrew  words,  would  not  have  been  suffered  to  remain  in  their 
original  form  by  any  but  a  native  Jew,  or  one  fully  acquainted  with  the 
native  language;  nor.  Matt,  xxiii.  15.  rri»  In^ay  have  been  opposed,  by 
way  of  discrimination,  to  t*}*  Qa^iaa-a-avy  except  under  the  same  circum- 
stances.    No  Greek,  translating  Hebrew,  would  have  transferred  this 
idiom  into  his  own  language,  when  he  might  so  easily  have  written  tqv 
y^f.    The  Latin  terms,  which  occur  in  this  Gospel,  (as  Koipdyrri^,  fAiXior, 

H^fO^^,    xof(rT*'o/a,    v^atT^'^ioir,   ?ieywf,    /utooto;,    Sfifx^tof,    o^aa^toy,)    though 

they  are  not  all  peculiar  to  it,  and  might  have  become  current  where- 


Greswell^fl  Harmony  and  Dissertations.  13 

ever  the  Roman  empire  had  been  established,  may  yet  be  some  pre« 
sumptive  argument  that  this  was  translated,  as  St.  Mark's  was  com- 
posed, at  Rome.  And  the  coincidence  between  them  in  the  use  of 
such  remarkable  words  as  ayye^fva-ui,  ^^otyeXXua-g^i,  ko\o ffucai,  and  the 
like,  serves  equally  to  render  it  probable  that  the  translator  of  the  one 
and  the  author  of  the  other  were  the  same.  Nor  is  it  an  improbable 
conjecture,  that  this  same  person,  besides  being  a  Jew,  and  intimately 
fiamiliar  with  Judea,  might  yet  be  a  Roman  citizen,  or  one  of  the  order 
of  Libertini,  numbers  of  whom  were  resident  at  Rome.  This  sup- 
position is  in  unison  with  the  name  of  St.  Mark,  which  at  least  is 
Roman,  and  not  Jewish/     Vol.  I.  pp.  122 — 124. 

That  Mark,  *  the  reputed  convert  of  St.  Peter,'  and  the  author 
of  the  Gospel,  was  not  the  same  person  as  John  Mark,  the 
nephew  of  Barnabas,  Mr.  GreswcU  regards  as  decisively  certain ; 
in  which  opinion  he  differs  from  Jer.  Jones,  Lightfoot,  Wetstein, 
and  Lardner.  Cave,  Grotius,  Du  Pin,  and  Tillemont  are  on  his 
side. 

Whoever  St.  Mark  was,  and  whoever  was  the  translator  of  St. 
Matthew'*8  Gospel,  the  verbal  agreement  between  the  translated 
Gospel  of  St.  Matthew  and  the  ori^nal  composition  of  St.  Mark, 
can  be  accounted  for  only  on  one  of  two  suppositions ;  either  that 
St.  Mark  had  seen,  and  designedly  accommodated 'his  own 
Gospel  to  that  of  the  former  Evangelist,  or  that  both  derived 
their  materials  in  common  from  some  primary  document.  The 
latter  is  the  hypothesis  embraced  by  Michaelis  and  some  of  the 
most  eminent  German  critics ;  and  on  a  former  occasion^,  an 
opinion  was  expressed  in  this  Journal,  favourable  to  the  general 
theory.  Mr.  Greswell  maintains,  however,  that  although  the 
verbal  coincidences  may  be  accounted  for  on  this  hypothesis,  it 
does  not  account  for  '  the  supplemental  arrangement  of  facts,'* 
St.  Matthew'^s  Gospel  being  taken  in  conjunction  with  St.  Mark's, 
there  are  clearly  omissions  in  the  former,  which  are,  he  contends, 
as  plainly  supplied  by  the  latter.  Of  this  description,  he  enu- 
merates the  following,  which  our  readers  will  be  able  to  verify  and 
estimate  by  an  examination  of  the  passages  referred  to. 

'  I.  Omissions  which  concern  integral  facts :  e.  g.  the  first  instance  of 
our  Saviour's  teaching  afier  the  commencement  of  his  ministry  in 
Gralilee,  followed  by  the  miracle  on  the  demoniac  in  the  synagogue  at 
Capernaum ;  the  account  of  a  circuit  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  lake 
of  Galilee ;  that  most  important  event,  the  ordination  of  the  twelve 
apostles  t;  one  additional  parable  among  those  which  were  first  de- 

•  Eel.  Rev.  VoL  I.  Third  Series,  p.  417.  Art.  Schleimacher  on  the 
Gospel  of  Luke. 

t  This  is  not  omitted  by  St.  Matthew,  (See  ch.  z.  1.)  although  St. 
Mark  may  be  thought  to  be  more  specific  in  his  account.  Mr.  GresweU^ 
however,  detaches  Matt.  x.  1.  from  its  connexion,  and  transposes  it  as 
parallel  to  Mark  vi.  7* 


14  Greswell'^s  Harmony  a^ul  DisMertatiofu. 

livered ;  two  miracles  performed  at  Bethsaida  in  Decapolis ;  and  three 
personal  manifestations  of  Our  Lord  after  his  resurrection:  all  whidi 
things  the  Harmony  will  exhibit  in  their  proper  places. 

'  II.  Besides  those  instances,  where  a  concise  account  of  St.  Mat- 
thew's is  expanded  into  a  circumstantial  detail  by  St.  Mark,  the  latter 
is  frequently  so  accommodated  to  the  other,  as  to  end  where  he  begins, 
or,  vice  versa,  to  begin  where  he  ends.  Mark  ix.  33 — 50.  concludei 
where  ]\Iatt.  xviii.  1  —35.  begins. — Mark  vii.  25.  takes  up  Matt.  xr. 
24 — Mark  vii.  32—37*  comes  in  exactly  between  Matt.  xv.  29.  aad 
XV.  30 — Mark  viii.  12.  concludes  Matt.  xvi.  1-^4. — Markviii.  19,  20l 
follows  on  Matt.  xvi.  10 — And,  what  is  among  the  most  strikinf 
instances  of  all,  Mark,  xvi.  5 — 8.,  in  his  account  of  that  event,  begins 
precisely  where  Matthew,  xxviii.  6.  in  his  account  just  before  had 
made  an  end. 

'III.  In  such  cases,  and  especially  where  the  one  narratire  ccm* 
tinues  or  is  continued  by  the  other,  St.  Mark,  it  is  manifest,  pre- 
supposes  St.  Matthew,  and  without  that  supposition  would  scarcely  be 
intelligible:  of  which  Mark  viii.  12.  is  a  remarkable  instance;  for  it 
passed  altogether  in  private,  after  the  answer  to  the  demand,  as  re* 
corded  by  St.  Matthew,  xvi.  I — 4.,  had  been  returned  in  public.  It  is 
clear  that  the  exordium  of  the  narrative  at  Mark  iii.  22.  presupposes 
the  fact  of  a  recent  dispossession,  and,  without  that,  would  be  utterly 
inconceivable ;  yet,  this  dispossession  is  related  by  St.  Matthew  only, 
xii.  22. 

'IV.  Even  in  their  common  accounts,  something  is  often  supplied 
by  St.  Mark,  critically  explanatory  of  something  in  St.  Matthew. 
Mark  iii.  21.  serves  this  purpose  for  Matt.  xii.  46. — Mark  iii.  22.  and 
iii.  30,  ascertaining  the  fact  of  a  double  blasphemy,  one  against  the 
Spirit,  and  one  against  the  Saviour,  serve  it  still  more  so  for  Matt.  xiL 
24.  and  xii.  31 — 37.>  which  is  directly  founded  on  that  distinction.-— 
Mark  iv.  10.  explains  the  circumstances  under  which  Matt.  xiii.  18 — 
23.  was  delivered.  Mark  x.  35.  compared  ^vith  Matt.  xx.  20.,  ex- 
plains Matt.  XX.  21.,  which,  without  that,  would  not  be  so  apparent. 
The  same  observation  would  hold  good  of  numerous  passages  besides, 
if  my  limits  would  permit  me  now  to  cite  them. 

'  V.  Closely  as  St.  Mark  adheres  to  St.  Matthew,  one  object  is  still 
kept  in  view  by  him  throughout;  to  rectify  his  transpositions,  to 
ascertain  what  he  had  left  indefinite,  and  to  fill  up  his  numerous 
circumstantial  omissions.  No  two  Gospels,  in  all  these  respects,  could 
be  more  the  afTi(rToix»  of  each  other ;  while,  in  the  general  outline, 
they  are  absolutely  upria-T^et* 

*' Hac  in  re  scilicet  una 

Multum  dissimiles,  at  csetera  paene  gemelli." 

'  VI.  The  very  deficiencies  in  St.  Mark,  or  the  consideration  of 
what  St.  Matthew  possesses,  which  is  not  to  be  found  in  St.  Mark,  by 
implying  a  tacit  reference  to  the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew,  confirm, 
rather  than  invalidate  the  same  conclusion.  There  is  one  such  omission 
relating  to  their  common  accounts  of  the  resurrection  and  of  the  manifest- 
ations of  Christ ;  the  account  of  the  manifestation  in  Galilee,  which  is 
almost  the  only  one  related  by  St.  Matthew,  and  must  have  been  in- 


Greswell^s  Harmony  and  Dissertations,  15 

i  %entionally  omitted  bj  St.  Mark.  .  .  .  But  his  most  regular  omissions 

I  are   in  the  account  of  Our  Saviour's  discourses,  where,  in  a  Gospel 

composed^  as  his  was,  for  the  instruction  of  Gentile  converts,  especially 

I  in  the  account  of  Our  Lord's  moral  discourses^  it  was  a  priori  to  be 
■  expected  he  would  have  been  the  most  full. 

II  '  VII.  The  verbal  coincidences  which  are  found  in  the  text  of  these 
■I  two  Evangelists^  are  so  numerous^  that,  in  a  Harmony  duly  arranged, 
J  they  may  be  discovered  in  every  page.  What  is  most  to  be  observed, 
B  they  appear  in  the  simple  narrative  part,  as  well  as  in  the  account  of 
i  discourses  ....  It  is  observable  also,  that  these  verbal  coincidences 
B  are  much  more  perceptible  between  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark,  than 
f  between  either  and  St.  Luke;  the  best  proof  of  which  is,  that,  even 
f  where  all  the  three  are  going  along  together,  St.  Mark  may  still  be 

found  adhering  verbatim  to  St.  Matthew,  when  St.  Luke  departs  from 
both  .  .  .  Nor  can  I  discover  any  very  striking  idiom  of  St.  Matthew, 
which  may  not  be  found  also  in  St.  Mark.* — Vol.  I.  pp.  24-28. 

In  combating  the  objections  which  may  be  urged  against  this 
view  of  the  supplementary  character  of  the  Gospels  of  St.  Mark 
and  St.  Luke,  Mr.  Greswell  adverts  to  the  verbal  disagreements^ 
which  equally  require  to  be  accounted  for.  Had  a  later  Evan- 
gelist seen  and  transcribed  from  an  earlier,  it  may  be  thought 
that  he  would  have  retained  what  he  transcribed,  without  any 
verbal  alterations.  This  objection,  Mr.  Greswell  replies,  as- 
sumes, that  a  later  Evangelist  might  not  be  as  independent  an 
authority  as  an  earlier ;  and  that  a  prior  Gospel  roust  have  re- 
corded the  whole  of  what  was  said,  exactly  as  it  was  said.  But, 
as  regards  Our  Lord^s  discourses,  every  account  contained  in  the 
Gospels,  is  a  translation  of  what  was  actually  said ;  and  in  the 
terms  of  a  translation,  alterations  afiecting  the  language,  but  not 
the  sense,  might  be  freely  made. 

'  If  St.  Matthew's  Gospel  was  written  in  the  language  which  Our 
Saviour  spoke,  it  is  possible  that  it  might  often  have  retained  the  very 
words  which  he  spoke.  But,  in  the  present  Gospels,  there  are  only 
three  pure  and  unmixed  instances  of  wnich  this  assertion  would  holi 
good: — Talitha  cumi  (Mark,  v.  41);  Ephphatha  (Mark,  vii.  34);  and 
Eli,  Eli,  lama  sahachthani  (Matt,  xxvii.  46.;  Mark,  xv.  34).  If  St. 
Mark,  then,  retains  the  language  of  St.  Matthew  in  some  respects, 
and  deviates  from  it  in  others,  it  must  be  remembered,  that  he  de« 
viates  from  a  translation  of  what  was  actually  spoken ;  and  whether, 
in  so  doing,  he  approaches  nearer  to,  or  recedes  nirther  from,  the  ori- 
ginal, no  one  now  can  undertake  to  say.  The  same  would  be  true  of 
St.  Luke,  who,  in  such  instances,  where  he  differs  from  St.  Mark, 
differs  from  St.  Matthew  also.  Yet,  among  all  these  examples  of  oc- 
casional verbal  differences  amidst  remarkable  verbal  agreements,  it  is 
easy  to  discover  that,  while  the  sense  remains  the  same,  some  new 
beauty,  force,  or  propriety  is  introduced  by  the  change :  in  which  case, 
it  is  hardly  to  be  considered  as  an  objection,  that  the  original,  in  some 
minute  respects,  was  not  already  so  perfect,  so  elaborated  ad  umbili- 
cum,  that  it  cotdd  admit  of  no  improvement  from  the  copy.'   [^After 


16  Gresweirs  Harmony  and  DisseriaHons. 

adducing  several  examples,  Mr.  O.  adds:]]  '  By  far  tbe  mater  part  of 
the  variations  in  question  are  resolvable  into  the  principle  of  ellipsis, 
or  the  supplement  of  fresh  matter ;  many  are  purely  synonymoiu ; 
many,  the  fruit  of  mere  compendium  of  speech ;  others,  on  the  con- 
trary, of  amplification.  Even  where  the  dinerence  is  greatest  in  wordsi 
there  is  still  an  agreement  in  the  sense.'     Vol.  I.  pp.  43,  44. 

Our  limits  will  not  allow  us  to  detail  the  whole  of  the  ingenious 
criticisms  and  reasonings  which  are  adduced  in  support  of  the 
Author^s  hypothesis.  That  St.  John'^s  Gospel  is  of  a  supple- 
mental character,  will  be  readily  admitted ;  and  if  so,  he  must 
have  been  acquainted  with  the  preceding  ones,  although  be  does 
not  specifically  refer  to  them  as  authorities.  The  silence,  then,  of 
St.  Mark  with  regard  to  the  first  Gospel,  and  of  St.  Luke  with 
respect  to  those  of  Matthew  and  Mark,  is  no  objection.  The 
Gospel  of  St.  John  consists  entirely  of  independent  matter ;  and 
^  what  St.  Mark  possesses  akin  to  St.  Matthew'^s,  abounds  in  so  much 
^  more  of  detail,  compared  with  that,  that  even  in  their  common 
^  narrations  it  may  be  said  to  go  along  by  itself  Yet,  had  the 
later  Evangelists  seen  the  writings  of  their  predecessors,  it  may 
be  urged,  that  they  would  have  avoided  all  appearance  of  contra- 
diction or  discrepancy.  Mr.  Greswell  replies  to  this  objection, 
that  the  existence  of  such  discrepancies  is  a  gratuitous  assump- 
tion ;  that  the  appearance  of  contradiction  has,  in  many  instances, 
been  produced  by  confounding  together  distinct,  though  similar 
transactions ;  in  which  case,  the  blame  attaches  not  to  the  ambi- 
guity of  tbe  Evangelist,  but  to  the  hallucination  of  the  critic; 
and  that,  admitting  the  supplemental  character  of  the  later  Gos- 
pels, '  what  appears  to  be  contradiction,  is  seen  to  be  really  ex- 
^  planation,  and,  instead  of  confusing  and  perplexing',  dears  up 

*  and  ascertains.** 

'  The  writers  of  these  common  accounts  were  too  well  aware  of  thdr 
mutual  agreement  and  consistency,  to  be  afraid  of  the  effects  of  col- 
lision :  they  neither  apprehended  it  themselves,  nor  supposed  it  would 
be  imputed  to  them  by  others.  In  all  such  instances,  they  either 
borrow  light,  or  they  communicate  it ;  they  are  as  critically  adapted  to 
each  other  in  what  they  omit,  as  in  what  they  supply ;  sometimes  pre- 
supposing the  circumstances  already  on  record,  preliminary  to  their 
own  accounts ;  at  other  times,  connecting,  separating,  or  defining  the' 
old  by  additional  particulars.  That  they  have  done  this  without  pro- 
fessing to  be  doing  it,  ought  to  be  no  objection.'     Vol.  I.  p.  38. 

Account  for  it  as  we  may,  Mr.  Greswell  remarks,  there  are 
transpositions  in  St.  Matthew'^s  Gospel,  ^from  which  a  later 
^  Evangelist  would  be  at  liberty  to  depart,  which  may  be  ad- 
^  mitted  without  injury  to  the  credibility  of  St.  Matthew,  but 

*  which  cannot  be  denied  without  the  utmost  danger  to  the  au- 

*  thority  of  St.  Mark  or  of  St.  Luke.'  It  is  no  more  necessary  to 
assume,  that,  because  a  prior  Evangelist  was  an  eye-witness  or 


^ 


Gr^eweirs  Harmony  and  Dissertations,  17 

ear-witness  of  what  he  records,  he  would  give  an  account  of  it 
in  strict  chronological  order,  than  to  suppose  that  one  who  was 
not  an  eye-witness  would  do  the  contrary.  But,  if  St.  Matthew^s 
immediate  object,  and  the  structure  of  his  Gospel,  did  not  require 
him  to  observe  chronological  exactness,  it  is  the  more  probable 
that  those  who  came  after  him,  and  whose  object  was  to  set  forth 
the  facts  relating  to  the  life  and  ministry  of  Our  Lord  **in  order ^, 
would  be  found  to  deviate  from  his  inexact  order;  nor  is  it  likely 
that  they  would  depart  from  it  with  sufficient  reason  and  evidence. 
The  following  remarks  claim  transcription. 

'^  In  short,  it  cannot  be  denied^  that  the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew  ex- 
hibits the  evidence  of  two  facts ;  one,  of  great  scantiness  of  detail  in 
the  purely  narrative  parts:  the  other,  of  great  circumstantiality  in 
the  discursive.  In  the  former,  then,  there  was  clearly  room  fur  sup- 
plementary matter ;  but,  in  the  latter,  except  on  one  supposition — that 
much  of  what  had  been  so  minutely  related  by  him  once  at  a  certain 
time  and  place,  came  over  again  at  another — there  was  little  or  none. 
Now,  in  favour  of  this  supposition^  it  is  a  remarkable  coincidence, 
first,  that  all  those  parts,  or  nearly  all,  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke^ 
about  whose  identity  with  corresponding  parts  in  St.  Matthew's  a 
question  is  commonly  raised,  are  the  accounts  of  discourses  as  such : 
secondly,  that  they  all,  or  nearly  all,  occur  in  parts  of  the  Gospel  of 
St.  Luke,  the  corresponding  periods  to  which  in  the  Gospel  of  St. 
Matthew,  are  total  blanks.  Now  where  was  matter  omitted  by  St. 
Matthew  from  its  resemblance  to  what  he  had  recorded  before,  so 
hkely  to  have  been  omitted  as  here  ?  And  what  reason  was  so  likely 
to  have  produced  the  blanks  in  his  Gospel  as  this — because  it  did  oc- 
cur, and  might  best  be  omitted,  here  ?  Where,  on  the  other  hand,^ 
was  a  supplementary  Gospel  so  likely  to  abound  in  fresh  matter  as- 
here  also  ?"     Vol.  L  pp  •  45,  &. 

The  reader  will  perhaps  have  to  complain,^  on  this  and  other 
occasions,  of  a  want  of  clearness  in  Mr.  Gresweirs  style;  and 
this  fault  is  rendered  more  conspicuous  by  the  defective  punctua- 
tion. With  regard  to  the  conclusiveness  of  his  reasonings,  we 
reserve  our  decision,  till  we  shall  have  brought  under  the  reader'^s 
notice,  the  application  of  the  Author^s  principles  to  the  text  of 
the  Evangelists,  in  the  Harmony  itself.  This  must  be  reserved 
for  a  future  article*  In  the  mean  time,  we  may  remark,  that  Mr. 
GreswelFs  hypothesis  has  at  least  this  great  advantage  in  its 
favour ;  that  it  satisfactorily  accounts  for  our  having  four  Gos- 
pels, and  only  four.     ^  Admit  that,  on  any  account,  St.  Matthew'^s 

*  Gospel  was  not  a  complete  history  of  the  Christian  ministry^ 

*  and  we  explain  the  origin  of  St.  Mark''s :  admit  that  even  both 

*  were  not  sufficient,  and  we  assign  a  reason  for  St.  Luke'^s :  ad- 
^  mit  that  all  the  three  contained  omissions,  and  we  account  for 
'  the  addition  of  St.  John'^s.  But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  was  the 
first  Gospel  left  so  incomplete.'^  It  seems  to  us,  that  Mr.  Gres- 
well  would  have  strengthened  his  argument,  had  he  shewn  that 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  c 


18  Gresweirs  Harmony  and  Diasertatians. 

each  Gospel  bears  the  internal  marks  of  adaptation  to  a  specific 
period  and  purpose,  in  reference  to  which  it  is  complete  and  suf- 
ficient.    For,  though  it  may  be  objectionable  '  to  consider  the 

*  final  end  of  any  of  the  Gospels  as  purely  temporary,  and  to 
'  account  for  its  structure  upon  that  ground,'  it  is  perfectly  allow- 
able and  rational  to  regard  the  primary  purpose  as  related  to  the 
circumstances  and  object  of  the  writer,  and  to  account  for  its 
structure  by  its  adaptation  to  that  immediate  design.  Mr.  Gres- 
well  does  not,  he  says,  ^  deny  that  each  of  the  Gospels  must  have 

*  sufficed  for  its  proper  purpose."* 

'  But  if  in  this  position  it  itt  implied,  that  the  proper  purpose  of 
any  one  of  the  Gospels  was,  to  be  complete  and  sufficient  inaepend- 
ently  of  the  rest,  it  assumes  the  point  at  issue:  for  this  proper  purpose 
may  have  been  just  the  reverse, — to  be  complete  along  with  the  rest, 
ana  not  to  be  independent  of  them,  but  to  presuppose  them.  Aad 
either  of  these  cases,  ii  priori,  was  just  as  possible  as  the  other.  No 
one  could  undertake  to  say  for  what  particular  use  and  purpose  any 
one  of  the  Gospels  was  written,  unless  this  use  and  purpose  had  been 
previously  declared  by  the  Gospel  itself;  which  is  actually  true  of  8t. 
Luke's  Gospel  only,  and  even  virtually,  of  none  but  St.  John's 
besides.'    p.  55. 

Here  the  learned  Writer  has,  we  think,  suffered  his  eagerness 
to  establish  the  main  hypothesis,  to  betray  him  into  rash  and  in- 
consequential assertion.  It  is  surely  quite  possible  to  determine, 
if  not  with  certainty,  yet  with  high  probability,  from  internal  evi- 
dence, the  use  and  purpose  for  which  each  Gospel  was  primarily 
intended ;  so  as  to  judge  of  its  completeness  aud  sufficiency  for 
that  purpose,  and  to  account  for  its  structure  on  that  ground. 
There  would  be  no  presumption  in  undertaking  to  explain  and  il- 
lustrate that  primary  purj)ose.  Nevertheless,  as  the  Author 
afterwards  contends,  ^  though  a  particular  Gospel  might  be  wrH- 
^  ten  for  a  particular  purpose,  this  would  not  invalidate  the  pos- 

*  sible  truth  of  its  supplementary  relation  to  others'*;  (the  first 
excepted ;)  nor  would  it  prove  that  *'  the  instruction  of  a  con- 

*  temporary,  and  the  perpetual  benefit  of  future  ages,  might  not 

*  both  be  consulted  in  the  same  provision.^  But  the  specific  pijor- 
pose  of  the  Writer  is  one  thing ;  and  the  design  of  Divine  Pro- 
vidence  in  overruling  the  specific  purpose  of  each  writer  for  a 
common  final  end,  is  another  thing.  We  might  as  well  suppose 
that  St.  Paul,  in  writing  his  first  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  did 
not  immediately  consult  the  benefit  of  the  Church  of  Corinth, 
but  constructed  his  letter  with  the  express  design^  that  that 
Epistle  might,  together  with  the  second  and  the  other  canonical 
epistles,  written  or  to  be  written,  form  a  complete  provision  for 
the  necessities  of  the  Church  in  all  ages :  we  might  as  rationally 
suppose  this,  as  that  St.  Matthew  wrote  his  Gospel,  not  imme- 
diately for  the  benefit  of  the  Christian  believers  in  Palestine,  but 


GreswclFs  Harmony  and  Dissertations.  1^ 

to  iDe<?t  the  necessities  of  the  Church  in  later  ages ;  conscious 
that  it  would  be  insufficient  or  incomplete  without  supplements 
from  other  hands.  The  Author'^s  reasoning  implies  this  absurd- 
ity ;  and  yet,  his  argument  does  not  require  it.  Absolute  com- 
pleteness does  not  attach  to  either  of  the  Gospels,  nor  to  all  four 
collectively.  The  relative  completeness  of  each,  can  be  judged 
of  only  in  reference  to  its  specific  purpose.  If  that  purpose  had 
a  supplemental  relation  to  a  prior  document,  then  its  complete- 
ness must  be  judged  of  in  connexion  with  that  previously  incom- 
plete history,  lluf,  though  not  complete,  each  might  be  sufficient 
for  its  particular  purpose,  and  perfectly  adapted  to  that  purpose ; 
while  the  concurrent  accounts,  mutually  illustrative  and  in  a 
sense  supplemental,  are  sufficient  for  the  common  and  final  end 
for  which  the  Holy  Spirit  overruled  the  immediate  purpose  of 
the  sacred  writers. 

That  St.  Mark  should  not  have  seen  St.  Matthew  s  Gospel,  is 
so  utterly  incredible,  that  we  are  surprised  how  such  a  notion 
sliould  have  been  seriously  maintained.  Having  seen  it,  it  is 
equally  incredible  that  he  should  not  have  consulted  it.  And 
that  he  should  have  done  so,  and  made  use  of  it,  is  surely  a  more 
natural  supposition,  and  not  less  compatible  with  the  credibility, 
independence,  and  inspiration  of  St.  Mark,  than  that  Matthew, 
MarK,  and  Luke  drew  their  materials,  independently  and  without 
concert,  from  an  imaginary  Tr^urtvayyiy^iov^  or  from  floating,  un- 
arranged,  unauthoritative  documents.  Upon  this  point,  Mr. 
Gresweirs  observations  are,  we  think,  quite  conclusive. 

'  It  is  considered  as  no  objection  to  the  credibility  of  St.  John,  even 
when  he  goes  along  with  the  first  three  Gospels,  that  he  had  seen  and 
was  acquainted  with  them;  and  I  would  inquire  of  those  who  feel 
any  alarm  on  this  score^  whether^  if  they  knew  that  St.  Mark  had  re- 
peatedly heard  or  conversed  with  St.  Matthew,  they  would  think  him, 
en  that  account,  less  competent  to  write  a  Gospel.  Instead  of  thisy 
they  must  say  he  would  be  more  so.  I  would  inquire  again^  then, 
what  difference  there  could  be  between  hearing  and  conversing  with 
St.  Matthew,  and  reading  his  work  ?  Would  not  the  one  be  as  good 
and  as  authentic  a  source  of  information  as  the  other  ?  Is  the  credi- 
bility of  St.  Mark  increased,  the  more  of  the  original  eye-witnesses 
and  ear- witnesses  of  the  Gospel  he  had  personally  seen  and  heard  ? 
Is  it  all  at  once  impaired,  if  he  had  penisea  a  Gospel  by  any  of  them  } 
The  truth  is,  unless  every  one  of  the  first  three  Gospels  was  composed 
at  the  same  time  and  in  different  places,  it  would  be  a  moral  imjiossi* 
bility,  that  St.  Matthew's  Gospel  could  actually  have  been  in  exist- 
ence before  St.  Mark  wrote  his,  and  yet  not  be  known  to  him ;  and 
equally  so,  that,  if  known  to  him  before  he  wrote  his  own,  it  could 
have  been  deliberately  disregarded  by  him  when  he  was  writing  it. 
The  same  impossibility  will  hold  good  of  St.  Luke ;  so  that,  except 
on  the  supposition  before  mentioned,  we  could  not,  however  much  we 
might  consider  it  necessary^  keep  a  later  Evangelist  in  ignorance  of 

c  2 


20  Greswell'*8  Harmony  and  Diasertafions^ 

the  existence  of  a  prior.  But,  in  fact,  the  whole  basis  of  this  imagm- 
ary  danger  is  overthrown  by  the  supplementary  relation  of  the  later 
Gospels :  it  is  peculiar  to  that  relation,  both  to  imply  the  existence  of 
prior,  and  yet  to  derive  no  authority  from  them.*  Vol.  I.  p.  62. 

The  preface  to  St.  Luke's  Gospel  refers  to  a  plurality  of 
narratives,  the  composition  of  persons  who  had  derived  their 
information  from  the  original  witnesses  and  ministers  of  the 
Gospel :  expressions  which  clearly  exclude  the  apostolic  Gospels. 
Yet,  had  St  Matthew'^s  been  a  regular  and  orderly  history,  (to 
say  nothing  of  St.  Mark'^s,)  it  would  create  a  difficulty,  that  St« 
Luke  should  nevertheless  have  deemed  it  necessary  to  furnish  « 
new  and  more  accurate  narrative,  and  that  he  should  have  taken 
no  direct  notice  of  the  existence  of  such  an  authentic  document. 
The  proof  from  internal  evidence,  that  St.  Luke  was  acquainted 
with  the  first  Gospel,  is,  we  must  think,  by  no  means  so  strong  as 
that  St.  Mark  consulted  and  followed  it.  Still,  St.  Luke^s  very 
acquaintance  with  the  various  apocryphal  or  unauthoritative 
histories,  renders  it  in  the  highest  degree  improbable  that  he 
should  not  have  seen  the  only  true  proto-evangelion^  the  Gospel 
of  St.  Matthew.  But  so  little  that  is  directly  historical  is  con- 
tained in  that  Gospel,  or  even  in  St.  Mark'^s,  that  St.  Luke  might 
well  consider  himself  as  entering  upon  ground  totally  unoccupied 
by  the  prior  Evangelists.  St.  Luke  is  the  only  historian  of  the 
New  Testament.  His  Gospel  may  be  said  to  contain  supplemental 
information,  as  his  second  book,  the  Acts,  may  be  regarded  as 
supplemental  to  St.  PauPs  Epistles ;  but  its  character  is  not  that 
of  a  supplemental  document.  It  is  not,  like  St.  Mark'^s,  merely  a 
new  edition,  as  it  were,  of  the  first  Gospel,  more  orderly,  circum* 
stantial,  and  complete,  and  adapted  to  Gentile  converts,  but,  a 
work  of  a  difTorent  kind,  independent  and  original,  and  comprising 
facts  and  dates  with  which  tne  other  Evangelists  do  not  concern 
themselves.  That  he  repeats  so  little  of  what  St.  Matthew  has 
recorded;  that  he  seems  even  to  avoid  copying  him ;  that  he  gives 
a  different  genealogy  of  Our  Lord ;  that  he  introduces  few  parables 
but  such  as  St.  Matthew  had  omitted ; — all  tend  to  prove  that  he 
was  well  acquainted  with  St.  Matthew's  Gospel,  and  that  he  had 
no  thought  of  su|>ersedinff  it,  while  they  snew  that  he  drew  his 
information  from  indepenaent  sources.  In  point  of  chronology, 
St.  Luke's  must  of  necessity  form  the  basis  of  a  Gospel  history* 
To  suppose  him  to  have  neglected  onler  in  the  narration  of  events, 
is  to  discredit  his  own  pretensiouM,  and  to  ini)>each  his  credibility. 
No  other  Evangelist  makes  similar  claims  to  historical  accuracy. 
But  the  order  of  events,  and  the  order  of  matter,  are  not  the  same 
thing.  The  most  accurate  historian  may  introduce  anecdotes, 
without  r^ard  to  the  particular  date  *  '  i ;  and  the  structure 
of  all  the  Gospels,  Mr.  G       'ell  nnecdotal.'*    And 

we  know  of  no  law  ^  lires  the  strict 


s. 


GrcsweU's  Harmony  and  DlBsertations.  21 

•  observance  of  chronological  series  in  introducing  specimens  of  the 

■  sayings  and  discourses  of  the  subject  of  the  memoir.     While, 

■  therefore,  we  should  rely  upon  the  historical  precision   of  this 
Evangelist  in  the  detail  and  order  of facfs^  we  should  deem  it  far 

i   more  safe  for  the  Harmonist  generally  to  adhere  to  St.  Matthew 

i   in  the  arrangement  of  Our  Lord'^s  sayings  and  discourses,  with 

I    the  precise  occasion,  date,  and  scene  of  which,  (immaterial  to  & 

K    history,)  an  eye-witness  only  could  be  perfectly  and  accurately 

I    acquainted.     And   if,   in   giving   these,   St.    Matthew   has  not 

.    adhered  to  chronological  order,  but  has  brought  together  such 

minor  and  illustrative  occurrences,  or  sayings,  as  were  distinct  and 

separate  in  point  of  time,  ^  out  of  defierence  to  certain  principles 

^  of  association,*"  we  may  safely  infer,  that  the  time  and  order  in 

which  they  occurred,  are  of  no.  absolute  importance.     In  fact,  the 

connexion  of  subject  which  suggested  them  to  the  Evangelist, 

may  be  far  more  important  than  the  connexion  of  time  and  place ; 

and  there  is  no  small  danger  lest,  in  transpositions  intended  to 

harmonize  the  chronological  order,  violence  siiould  be  done  to  the 

intention  of  the  inspired  Writer  and  to  the  general  scope  of  the 

passage.     Plagrant  instances  of  this  kind  might  be  adduced  from 

most  of  our  Harmonies ;  and  few  indeed  are  the  transpositions 

which   do  not  involve   injury   to   the  context.     How  far  Mr. 

Greswell  has  steered  clear  of  this  species  of  violence  to  the  sacred 

text,  we  shall  see  hereafter.     We  shall  for  the  present  take  leave 

of  the  subject,  by  exhibiting  in  a  tabular  view,  the  results,  in  part 

of  Mr.  Gresweirs  researches,  in  part  of  our  own  Biblical  studies, 

as  to  the  distinctive  characteristics  of  the  Four  Gospels. 


V 


X 


22 


GreswelFs  Harmony  and  Dissei'tatione* 


St.  Matthrw's 

Gospel. 

l^Mtten  about  a.d.  42. 


St.  Mark's  Gospxl. 
Written  about  a.d.  54. 


St.  Lukk's  (iospcl. 
Written  about  a.d.  60. 


In  Palestine,  for  the 
use  of  Jewish  believer*. 
Originally  in  Syro-Chal- 
dee.  Translated,  pro- 
bably, by  Mark  (or 
James),  about  a.d.  54. 
Style  of  Transl.  He- 
braistic Greek;  closety 
resembling  St.  Mark's. 


Purpose  and  scope. 
To  esublish  the  le^^al 
genealofcy  of  Our  Lord 
as  the  Heir  of  David  ;— 
to  vindicate  from  Jeuh- 
Uh  cavils  the  circum- 
stances of  his  birth  and 
despised  condition ; — to 
shew  the  entire  corre- 
spondence of  every  part 
of  his  character,  con- 
duct, circumstances, 
and   sulIMnffs,  to  the 

Crtdictions  of  the  Jew- 
>h  Scriptures ;— to  ex- 
hibit specimens  of  his 
preaching  and  doctrine: 
— in  a  word,  to  estab- 
lish his  Divine  autho- 
rity as  greater  than 
Moses,  and  the  evl- 
dcnce  of  his  being 
Messiah. 

CharaeteritttcM :  Ex- 
treme conciseness  In 
noticing  fkcts.  Fre- 
quent appeal  to  Old 
Testament  prophecies 
and  precedents.  The 
fullest  report  of  Our 
Lord's  disoottisea. 


Contents:  Genealogy 
of  Jesus.  Miraculous 
birth.  Visit  of  the 
Magi-  Massacre  at 
Bethlehem.  Flight  in- 
to  Egypt.  Public  ap- 
pearance of  the  Fort- 
runner.  Baptism  and 
probationary  tempta- 
tion of  our  Lord.  His 
Public  Ministry  from 
the  time  of  his  return 
to  Galilee  after  the  im- 
prisonment of  John, 
at  which  time  this  Evan- 
gdist's  acquahitance 
with  the  Lord  com- 
menced. Betrayal, 
Trial,  and  Crucifixion 
of  Jesus.  Resurrection, 
and  public  appearance 
InGdLilee. 


At  Rome  (or  Alexan- 
dria), for  the  use  of 
foreign  Jews  and  Gen- 
tile converts.  The 
Writer  a  native  Jew, 
intimately  acquainted 
with  the  topography 
and  idkims  of  Pales- 
tine. Style,  a  Hebrais- 
tic Greek. 

—To  give  a  brief  out- 
line of  the  leading  fscts 
and  characteristic  fea- 
tures of  orr  Lonfs 
Imblic  mhiistry  in  Gali- 
ce:  omitting  such  al- 
lusions and  passages 
as  would  exclusively 
interest  the  Jews,  and 
adding  explanatory 
phrases  and  circum- 
stances for  the  inform- 
ation of  Gentile  Chris- 
tians. The  miracles  of 
Our  Lord  are  more  pro- 
minently adduoMi,  tnan 
his  character  as  a  teach- 
er, and  the  correspond- 
ence between  the  facts 
and  the  predictions. 


Condseneu  and  exact- 
ness, yet  more  cirrum* 
stantial  and  specific  in 
many  parts  of  the  nar- 
rative than  St.  Mat- 
thew. More  exact  ar- 
rangement of  fSscts. 
Omissi(m  of  the  dis- 
courses. Frequent  La- 
tinisms. 

Precursive  mbilstry 
of  John.  Baptism  of 
Our  Lord.  Public  mi- 
nistry of  Christ  in  Ga- 
lilee from  the  Impri- 
sonment of  John. 
Events  of  the  Passion 
week.  The  Crucifixion. 
Resurrection.  Mani- 
festation.   Ascension. 


Place  uncertain :  pro- 
bably Achala.  The 
Writer  a  Gen*ile.  the 
Companion  ofSt.Paul; 
supposed  tu  have  been 
a  native  of  Antioch,  by 
profession  a  physician. 

Style,  the  purest 
Gre^  of  the  sacred 
Writers;  copious  and 
flowing. 

— To  give  an  authentic 
and  orderly  relation  ot 
the  facts  believed 
among  Christians:  com- 
mencing with  the  pa- 
rentage and  birth  of 
Our  Lord's  forerunner; 
and  carrying  on  the  his- 
torical account  with 
chronological  exactnea 
to  the  Ascension. 


St.  Jornv*! 
Written  abt 


At    Epb 

Apostle,  a  G 
the  disciple 
sus  loved.  ' 
the  Church! 


Style, 
Greek,  but  i 
and  facile  tl 
Mark. 

— To  prove 
Is  the  Son  o 
believers  mj 
through  his 
confutation 
heresiea.  1 
additional  pi 
Our  Lord's  p 
ing  and  vat 
iutertx>urse  i 
ciples;  and  t 
the  eventa  i 
the  other  1 
To  portray 
glory  of  th4 
character.  *' 
corpus  in  mm 
runttJo^atu 


Historical  accuracy 
and  exactness  in  the  re- 
cord of  events.  More 
of  artificial  order  and 
classification  of  subject. 
Specification  of  circum- 
stances of  general  and 
political  interest.  Sup- 
plemental relations. 

Circumstances  re- 
lating to  the  birth  of 
John  the  Baptist.  The 
Annunciation.  The 
Nativity.  The  Cir- 
cumcision. Early  life 
of  Our  Lord.  Date  of 
John's  ministry ;  his 
preaching,  testimony 
to  Chrbt,  and  Impri- 
sonment. Baptism  of 
Our  Lord:  his  nge  at 
the  commencement  of 
his  ministry ;  lineal 
descent  trota  David  by 
his  mother.  Tempta. 
tion.  Public  ministry 
of  Our  Lord  in  Galilee, 
and  in  Judea.  Trans- 
actions at  Jerusalem 
during  the  Passion- 
week.  Particulars  of 
the  Crucifixion,  Resur- 
rectkm.  Manifestation, 
and  Ascension. 


Perspicai^ 
thos  of  sty( 
phical  mlnut) 
plemental  d 
the  narrative 
spedmenaof 
ttrgutmenttttn 
courses.  Cc 
ference  to  hi 
as  the  Son  o< 

Profim,  tea 
pre-existence 
of  the  Wor 
made  flesh, 
and  testimoi 
the  Baptist, 
tlons  which 
between   the 
tion   and    O 

f>ubUc  minfa 
mprisonmcn 
Visit  to  Jen; 
discourse  wit 
there.  DIaoc 
sionedby  the 
the  kMves 
naum.  Seca 
Jeriisalem; 
and  miracl 
Third  visit, 
Laaarus.  Fii 
to  Jeruaalcn 
dictory  disco 
the  disciple 
Prayer.  Tri 
flxion.  Rei 
ManlfcatatlM 


(To  b€  cantimied.} 


:n^ 


(  23  ) 
Art.  11.— Memoir  of  Felix  Neff,  l>asloroflke  High  Alp.t;  and  of  lii» 
Laboiin  among  the  French  Protestants  of  Duuphin^,  a  Remnant 
of  the  primitive  Christians  of  Gaul.  By  William  Stephen  Gilly, 
M<A.  Prebendary  of  Durham  and  Vicar  of  Norham.  8to> 
pp.  342.     Price  Us.  6d.    I^ndon,  1832. 

J  OT  merely  this  volume,  but  the  pious  labours  which  it 
records,  may  be  said  to  have  been  in  part  ori^nated  by  the 
interesting  memorials  of  the  life  of  the  Pastor  Oberhn.  The  cha- 
racter of  Oijerlin  '  was  Nefi^s  delight  and  his  model ;  and  if,'  says 
Mr.  Giily,  '  it  did  nut  first  awaken  his  desire  to  become  eminent 
*  in  the  same  way,  it  confirmed  his  good  resolutions.' 

'  The  Pastor  of  the  Alps  had  by  some  means  become  acquainted 
vith  the  history  of  the  Pastor  of  the  Vosges,  and  of  his  improvements 
in  the  Ban  de  la  Roche.  Several  publications  had  noticed  Oberlin's 
benelicia]  labours  in  his  mountain  parish  ;  and  ^^eff's  bosom  glowed 
with  a  noble  emulation  to  imitate  his  doings.  Therefore,  without 
denoting  in  the  lea.st  degree  from  Neff's  merits,  it  may  be  said,  that 
much  of  his  usefuhiess  may  be  attributed  to  the  practical  lesson  which 
Obtrlin  bad  previously  taught  .  .  .  The  amiable  Biographer  who 
collected  the  memorials  of  Oberlin,  may  enjoy  the  exquisite  sacisfactioa 
of  believing,  ihut  her  record  of  his  blameless  life  and  indefatigable 
labours  will  be  like  a  voice  exclaiming  in  the  ear^  of  many  who  begin 
to  feel  the  pleasure  of  being  useful,  "  Go  thou  and  do  likewise  ";  and 
will  thus  be  the  means  of  perpetuating  to  future  generations  the  in- 
fluence of  Oberlin's  beneficent  exertions,  more  effectually  than  any 
monument  tu  his  memory.'     pp.  232,  3. 

Mr.  Gilly,  the  Author  of  the  present  Memoir,  must  be  well 
known  to  our  readers,  by  his  "  Narrative  of  an  Excursion  to  the 
Mountains  of  Piedmont";*  and  his  assiduous  and  persevering 

Ieflurts  on  behalf  of  the  Waldensian  Church  reflect  the  highest 
.honour  upon  his  Christian  benevolence.  In  the  course  of  his 
ecclesiastical  researches,  he  became  convinced,  *  that  the  secluded 
'  glens  of  Piedmont  are  not  the  only  retreats  where  the  de- 
'  scendants  of  primitive  Christians  may  be  found.'  His  belief 
that  the  Alpine  provinces  of  France  might  still  be  harbouring 
some  of  the  descendants  of  the  early  Christians  of  Gaul,  was 
confirmed  by  a  letter  received  in  the  winter  of  1826,  from  the 
Rev.  Francis  Cunningham,  in  which  the  meritorious  labours  of 
Felix.  Neft'  were  referred  to;  and  he  subsequently  obtained  from 
that  gentleman,  *  to  whom  the  Protestant  cause  on  the  Continent 
'  owes  much,'  a  memorial  drawn  up  by  Neff  himself,  of  which  the 
Eubstancc  is  given  in  the  Introduction  tu  the  present  memoir. 
Long  as  it  i-  we  cannot  refrain  from  giving  it  entire. 

In  tho:  :  ti      s,  when  the  Dragon  of  whom  St.  John  speaks, 

f>  t  of  the  seed  wliich  kept  the  commandments 


.  Vol.  XXVI.  p.  5ao. 


24  Memoir  of  Felio!  Neffi 

of  Ood«  and  have  the  testimony  of  Jesus  Christy  some  of  those  wba 
escaped  frum  the  edge  of  the  sword,  found  a  place  of  refuge  among  tbe 
mountains.  It  was  then,  that  the  most  ru^^ged  valleys  of  the  Frendi 
.  department  of  the  High  Alps,  were  peopled  by  the  remains  of  those 
primitive  Christians,  who,  after  the  example  of  Moses,  when  he  pre- 
ferred the  reproach  of  Christ  to  the  riches  of  Egypt,  changed  their 
fertile  plains  for  a  frightful  wilderness.  But  fanaticism  still  pursued 
them  ;  and  neither  their  poverty  nor  their  innocence,  nor  the  glocien 
and  precipices  among  which  they  dwelt,  entirely  protected  them  ;  sod 
the  caverns  which  served  them  for  churches,  were  often  washed  with 
their  blood.  Previously  to  the  Reformation,  the  Valley  of  Fressini^ 
was  the  only  place  in  France,  where  they  could  maintain  their  ground; 
and  even  here,  they  were  driven  from  the  more  productive  lands^  and 
were  forced  to  retreat  to  the  very  foot  of  the  glacier,  where  they  built 
the  village  of  Dormilleuse.  This  village,  constructed  like  an  eagle'i 
nest  upon  the  side  of  a  mountain,  was  the  citadel  where  a  small  portioo 
that  was  left,  established  itself,  and  where  the  race  has  continued 
without  any  mixture  with  strangers  to  the  present  day.  Others  took 
up  their  dwelling  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  glen  called  La  Combe,  t 
rocky  abyss  to  which  there  is  no  exit ;  where  the  horizon  is  so  bounded, 
that,  for  six  months  of  the  year,  the  rays  of  the  sun  never  penetrate. 
These  hamlets,  exposed  to  avalanches  and  the  falling  of  rocks,  and 
buried  under  snow  half  the  year,  consist  of  hovels,  of  which  some  are 
without  chimneys  and  glazed  windows,  and  others  have  nothing  hot  i 
miserable  kitchen  and  a  stable,  which  is  seldom  cleaned  out  more  than 
once  a  year,  and  where  the  inhabitants  spend  the  greater  part  of  tbe 
winter  with  their  cattle  for  the  sake  of  the  warmth.  The  rocks  br 
which  they  are  enclosed,  are  so  barren,  and  the  climate  is  so  severer 
that  there  is  no  knowing  how  these  poor  Alpines,  with  all  their 
simplicity  and  temperance,  contrive  to  subsist.  Their  few  sterile  fields 
hang  over  precipices,  and  are  covered,  in  places,  with  enormous  bloda 
of  granite,  whicn  roll  every  year  from  the  cliffs  above.  Some  aeasoni. 
even  rye  will  not  ripen  there.  The  pasturages  are,  many  of  them,  in- 
accessible to  cattle,  and  scarcely  safe  for  sheep.  Such  wretched  soil 
cannot  be  expected  to  yield  any  thing  more  than  will  barely  sustsin 
life,  and  pay  the  taxes,  which,  owing  to  the  unfeeling  negligence  of 
the  inspectors,  are  too  often  levied  without  proper  consideration  for 
the  unproductiveness  of  the  land.  The  clothing  of  these  poor  creatoRi 
is  made  of  coarse  wool,  which  they  dress  and  weave  themselves.  Their 
principal  food  is  unsifted  rye:  this,  they  bake  into  cakes  in  the 
autumn,  so  as  to  last  the  whole  year. 

'  **  The  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  in  1686,  deprived  thea 
of  their  ministers,  and  we  may  judge  what  their  condition  must  hate 
been  for  many  years ;  but  still,  there  was  not  a  total  famine  of  the 
Word  among  them.  They  met  together  to  read  the  Bible  and  to 
sing  psalms  ;  and  although  they  had  an  ancient  church  in  Dormiileote, 
they  were  building  a  second  in  La  Combe,  which  was  not  finished 
when  I  first  arrived  there.  Such  was  their  situation  when  Pro- 
vidence directed  me  to  their  valleys  in  1823.  They  received  me 
most  gladly ;  they  attended  my  preaching  with  eagerness,  and  gate 
themselves  up  to  my  guidance  in  all  that  I  undertook  for  their  in- 


Memoir  of  Felix  Neff.  26 

provement.  The  limits  of  this  short  notice  will  not  permit  me  to 
enter  into  any  detail  of  my  proceedings^  during  the  three  years  and  a 
half  that  I  remained  with  them.  I  will  merely  state,  that  my  in- 
structions were  not  unproductive  of  good;  that  many  young  men 
have  been  put  in  the  way  of  opening  schools  during  the  winter ;  that 
the  Sunday-schools  have  been  frequented  by  adults  who  could  not 
profit  by  the  lessons  given  in  the  day-schools  open  to  younger  persons, 
tip  to  tnis  period,  the  girls  and  the  women  had  been  almost  entirely 
neglected.  With  the  assistance  of  subscriptions  from  foreigners,  one 
jschool-room  has  been  built,  and  another  is  in  preparation.  Several  of 
the  inhabitants  have  shewn  a  strong  inclination  to  take  advantage  of 
the  information  which  I  have  given  them  on  agriculture  and  ar<p 
chitecture,  and  in  the  principles  of  some  of  the  useful  sciences,  which 
hitherto  were  utterly  unknown  to  them.  I  have  distributed  many 
Bibles,  New  Testaments,  and  other  books  of  piety  among  them,  which, 
I  have  been  pleased  to  find,  were  not  only  received  with  ffratitude, 
but  such  as  were  sold  were  readily  purchased  at  prime  cost.  In  truth, 
the  religious  knowledge  communicated  to  them  has  been  so  blessed, 
that  you  would  not  find  in  any  part  of  France  more  genuine  piety  or 
simplicity  of  manners.  But  still  it  can  hardly  be  expected  tnat  this 
improvement  will  be  permanent,  considering  their  physical,  moral,  and 
religious  condition,  so  long  as  they  are  without  the  ministration  of 
regular  pastors.  Up  to  the  present  time,  the  Valley  of  Fressiniere 
has  not  a  pastor  of  its  own.  It  is  served  in  connexion  with  the 
churches  of  Val  Queyras,  which  are  ten  leagues  distant,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Durance,  and  are  separated  by  a  lofty  range  of  mountains, 
whose  passes  are  not  only  very  difficult,  but  absolutely  dangerous  in 
the  winter.  The  visits  of  the  pastor  are,  therefore,  necessarily  few 
and  at  long  intervals;  and  the  people  are  obliged  to  wait  his  con- 
venience, until  they  can  have  their  children  baptized,  the  nuptial 
blessing  pronounced,  or  any  of  the  church  services  performed.  Moved 
by  the  destitute  condition  of  these  mountaineers,  who  are  endeared  to 
me  not  only  by  their  own  amiable  disposition,  but  by  their  interesting 
origin,  I  would  most  willingly  devote  myself  to  their  service,  and 
submit  to  all  manner  of  deprivation  and  fatigue  as  their  pastor ;  but 
the  frequent  journeys  from  one  church  to  another,  in  the  Valleys  of 
Fressiniere  and  Queyras,  have  been  too  much  for  me ;  and  total  ex^ 
haustion,  proceeding  from  this  cause  and  from  a  stomach  complaint, 
brought  on  by  living  on  unwholesome  food,  have  so  disabled  me,  that  I 
am  obliged  to  remove  myself  for  the  present,  with  very  slight  hopes  of 
ever  being  so  restored  as  to  be  able  to  return. 

'  *^  At  this  juncture,  when  respect  for  the  adherents  of  the  primitive 
doctrines  and  forms  of  Christianity  has  manifested  itself  so  con- 
spicuously in  behalf  of  the  Protestants  of  the  Valleys  of  Piedmont,  I 
have  thought  it  my  duty  to  give  publicity  to  the  fact,  that  their 
brethren  of  the  French  Alps  are  equally  objects  of  interest,  and 
much  more  indigent,  although  they  have  Hitherto  remained  unknown 
and  unnoticed." '    pp.  5 — 10. 

Anxious  to  know  more  both  of  this  *  Apostle  of  the  Alps  and 
*  of  his  flock,^  Mr.  Gilly  determined  to  visit  the  Val  Fressini^e^ 

VOL.  IX. N.S.  D 


26  Memoir  of  Feliv  Neff, 

on  his  way  to  or  from  Piedmont ;  and  he  had  the  gratification  of 
traversing  nearly  the  whole  of  the  alpine  diocese  which  was  the 
8])here  of  Nef!*^s  pastoral  labours;  but  that  extraordinary  man 
had  gone  to  his  rest  a  few  months  before  his  Biographer  arrived 
at  Dormilleuse.  From  the  information  collected  on  the  spot, 
together  with  other  documents  *,  including  NefTs  own  journals, 
the  present  volume  has  been  compiled. 

Felix  Neff  was  born  in  the  year  1798,  and  was  brought  up  in 
a  villafice  near  Geneva,  under  the  care  of  his  widowed  mother. 
The  village  pastor  gave  him  instruction  in  the  Latin  language, 
as  well  as  in  history,  geography,  and  botany.  Among  the  tern 
books  that  were  within  his  reach,  Plutarch  and  Rousseau  were 
his  favourites :  the  former,  by  making  him  acquainted  with  the 
great  heroes  of  antiquity,  kindled  his  youthful  ambition ;  and 
the  writings  of  the  latter  encouraged'  his  love  of  nature  and  his 
taste  for  mountain  scenery.  Military  exploits  and  scientific  re- 
searches shared  the  visions  of  his  boyhood ;  and  his  character  and 
habits  were  thus  formed  in  remarkable  adaptation  for  the  arduous 
duties  and  hardships  of  his  future  station  ^^  as  a  good  soldier  of 
Jesus  Christ.**' 

*  When  it  was  time  for  NefF  to  select  a  profession,  necessity  or 
choice,  or  perhaps  both  combined,  induced  him  to  engage  himself  to  the 
proprietor  of  a  nursery-ground  or  florist-gardener ;  and  at  sixteen,  he 
published  a  little  treatise  on  the  culture  of  trees.  The  accuracy  and 
arrangement  of  this  juvenile  work,  and  the  proof  of  deep  observatioa 
which  it  manifested,  were  subjects  of  no  small  praise  at  the  time.  But 
the  quiet  and  humble  walks  of  the  florist's  garden  were  soon  exchanged 
for  the  bustle  of  the  garrison  ;  and  at  seventeen,  Felix  entered  f  as  a 
private  into  the  military  service  of  Geneva,  in  the  memorable  year  1815. 
Two  years  afterwards,  he  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  Serjeant  of 
artillery ;  and  having  raised  himself  to  notice  by  his  theoretical  and 
practical  knowledge  of  mathematics,  he  continued  to  make  this  brandi 
of  science  his  study  during  his  continuance  in  the  army.  .  .  .  Neff  was 
soon  distinguished  in  the  corps  to  which  he  belonged,  not  only  as  an 
eflicient  sub-oflicer,  hut  as  a  devoted  soldier  of  the  cross.  The  in- 
fluence, however,  which  he  hourly  obtained  over  his  comrades,  excited 
a  degree  of  jealousy  among  the  superior  oflicers,  which  was  far  from 
honourable  to  them.  They  wished  him  out  of  the  service :  he  was  too 
religious  for  them  ;  and  after  a  few  years,  the  serious  turn  of  his  piind 
became  so  marked,  that  he  was  advised  to  quit  it,  and  to  prepare  him- 
self for  holy  orders.'     pp.  43 — 45. 

*  The  Author  acknowledg:es  his  obligati(ms  to  a  small  tract,  entitled, 
'*  Notice  snr  Felix  Neff,  Pasteur  darts  les  Hautes  Alpes"  A  brief 
memoir  of  Neff,  chiefly  translated  from  this  tract,  was  given  in  the 
Congregat.  Mag.  ftir  April  last. 

t  In  a  memoir  referred  to  in  a  preceding  note,  it  is  stated,  that  Neflf 
was  *  compelled  to  enrol  himself  in  the  garrison.' 


Memoir  of  Felix  Neff.  27 

It  would  have  been  interesting  to  learn  more  distinctly  the 
means  and  mental  process  by  which,  amid  circumstances  and  as- 
sociations so  unfavourable  to  piety,  Neff  first  became  awakened  to 
his  own  spiritual  condition  and  to  the  paramount  importance  of 
eternal  interests.  A  deep  and  solemn  examination  of  the  motives 
which  had  hitherto  governed  his  conduct,  appears  to  have  led  to 
the  overwhelming  conviction,  that  he  had  come  utterly  short  of  the 
primary  obligations  of  a  creature,  and  of  the  unchangeable  re- 
quirements of  the  law  of  God.  The  mental  anguish  produced  by 
this  discovery,  was  augmented  by  his  ignorance  of  the  evangelical 
doctrine.  In  this  agony  of  spirit,  he  had  recourse  to  prayer  for 
guidance  and  relief,  and  to  the  Bible  itself,  to  the  study  of  which 
he  devoted  himself  with  fervent  supplications  for  Divine  illumina- 
tion :  *  Make  me,  O  God,  to  know  thy  truth ;  and  deign  to  ma- 
'  nifest  thyself  to  my  heart.**  Such  was  his  language ;  and  his 
prayer  was  heard.  Mr.  Gilly  states,  that,  on  quitting  the  army, 
Neff  *  placed  himself  under  pious  instruction  and  superintendence.' 
Having  offered  himself  as  a  candidate  for  ordination,  he  officiated 
for  some  time  as  a  probationer,  or  proposant ;  first,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Geneva,  afterwards  in  the  adjacent  cantons,  and,  in 
1821,  at  Grenoble.  We  should  have  been  glad  to  learn  further 
particulars  relating  to  this  period  of  his  life ;  but  all  that  is  known, 
or  stated  in  the  memoir,  is  comprised  in  these  facts.  He  was  in 
his  twenty-fourth  year,  and  had  not  yet  received  ordination,  when, 
in  1821,  he  was  invited  to  assist  the  Protestant  pastor  of  Grenoble. 
Having  remained  there  about  six  months,  his  services  were  re- 
quested at  Mens,  in  the  department  of  Isere,  to  supply  the  place 
of  an  absent  pastor ;  and  at  the  petition  of  the  inhabitants  to  the 
Consistory,  he  was  nominated  '  pastor-catechist '  on  June  1, 1822. 
His  indefatigable  zeal  and  faithful  instructions  were  made  useful 
to  many  persons  there,  and  endeared  him  to  all.  Having  thus, 
during  four  years,  made  proof  of  his  ministry,  he  left  Mens  in 
April  1823,  with  the  intention  of  seeking  ordination.  But  here  a 
difficulty  presented  itself. 

'  By  whom  should  he  be  ordained  ?  By  the  authorities  of  the 
National  Church  of  Geneva,  the  land  of  his  birth  ?  They  had  avowed 
principles  from  which  his  soul  shrunk ;  and  he  felt  a  strong  reluctance 
to  derive  authority  to  preach  the  Gospel  from  those  who,  in  his  opinion, 
had  betrayed  the  Gospel,  by  ceasing  to  uphold  the  divinity  of  Jesus 
Christ  and  the  essential  doctrines  of  the  Book  of  Life.  Should  he 
present  himself  before  those  seceding  pastors  of  Geneva  who  had 
separated  from  the  National  Church,  ana  who  declared  themselves  the 
members  of  a  new  Church  ?  A  reference  to  Neff's  letter  on  the  subject 
of  national  establishments,  will  shew  that  he  w^s  likely  to  have 
scruples  here.*    p.  81. 

The  letter  to  which  Mr.  Gilly  refers,  explicitly  maintains  the 
right  of  separation  from  the  national  Church,  but  at  the  same 

d2 


28  MtmtAr  •/  JFWte  Neff, 

time  expresses  the  Writer^a  opinion  in  favour  of  EstaUisbmnits, 
as  '  uBeiiil  tnBtitutionB.^  '  It  ia  necessary  id  my  ojrinion,^  saya 
NefT,  '  at  the  same  tims  that  ve  r«C(^ise  the  rif^ht  of  a  Christiaii 
'  to  separate,  (and  it  ia  often  absolutely  expedient  to  do  so,)  to 
'  admit  also,  that  there  are  many  strong  reasons  to  induce  a  ffreat 
'  number  of  the  children  of  God  to  remain  in  connexion  with  the 
'  national  church,  so  long  as  it  does  not  compel  them  to  profeaa 
'  or  to  teach  a  lie,  and  that  it  does  not  reject  them  from  its  boeom, 

*  because  they  are  in  unison  with  a  more  spiritual  congregation.^ 
NelTs  views  on  this  subject  were  in  entire  coincidence  with  those 
of  Henry,  Howe,  Baxter,  and  the  great  body  of  the  ejected 
ministers.  Yet,  the  step  which  he  took,  though  not  in  direct  op- 
pontion  to  the  National  Church  of  Geneva,  was  one  of  very  de- 
cided dissent  from  it.  He  resolved  to  come  to  this  country, 
where  his  name  and  character  had  been  made  known  through  the 
medium  of  the  Continental  Society,  '  to  ask  for  a  public  recov- 
'  nition  as  a  devoted  servant  of  God,  in  one  of  those  independ- 

*  ent  congregations  whose  ministers  are  received  in  the  Protestant 
'  churches  of  France,  as  duly  autboriied  to  preach  the  word  of 

*  God  and  to  fulfil  all  the  duties  of  the  pastoral  office.'*  Unac- 
quainted  with  a  word  of  English,  he  embarked  on  board  a  steam- 
boat at  Calais;  on  landing  at  Dover,  consigned  himself  to  a 
night-coach  ;  and  arrived  in  the  Metropolis  on  a  Sunday  mom- 
ing,  with  no  other  clew  to  guide  him  through  the  mazes  of  the 
city,  than  a  direction  to  the  nouse  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wilks.  Af- 
ter *  puzzling  out  his  way ""  to  his  friend's  abode,  he  found  that 
Mr.  Wilks  was  not  at  home,  and  no  one  in  the  house  could  speak 
French.  He  then  contrived  to  find  his  way  to  the  Protestant 
French  Church. 

'  The  excetlent  Mr.  Scholl  was  the  preacher  at  the  chapel  upon  this 
occasion ;  and  to  him  Neff  addressed  himself  after  the  service,  with 
tbe  modest  request  that  he  would  direct  him  to  an  hotel  where  French 
was  spoken.  Tlic  wanderer's  delight  must  have  been  excessive,  when 
Mr.  Scholl  kindly  accosted  him  by  name,  and  told  him  that  he  was 
aware  of  the  errand  upon  which  he  had  come,  and  that  every  thing 
should  be  done  to  promote  his  views.  He  was  placed  in  comfortable 
lodgings ;  and,  on  the  return  of  Mr.  Wilks,  he  was  introduced  hj  that 
gentleman  to  the  ministera  who  were  to  receive  him  into  their  body. 

On  the  19th  of  May,  1823,  Netf,  to  use  his  own  ternis,  "re* 

ceived  a  diploma  in  Latin,  signed  by  nine  ministers,  of  whom  threo 
were  doctors  in  Theology,  and  one  was  a  Master  of  Arts,  and  was  or> 
dained  in  a  chapel  in  the  Poultry  in  London." ' — pp.  68,  9. 

We  cannot  refrain  from  remarking,  that  Mr.  Gilly^s  acanmt  of 
these  transactions   bespeaks  a  c     lour  and  liberw^  of  I ' 
highly  honourable  to  nim  as  an  i    '  "^"*'"'~^^" 

feu-,  not  many  cburcbmeD  w  i 

CMMO  SoK  anartiog  th«  e: 


Memoir  of  Fetia  Keff.  29 

and  for  ituinuating  their  contempt  for  tlie  congregatitmal  poHty. 
Neir  lost  no  time  in  returning  to  the  Bcenc  of  his  paetoral  1a- 
boun;  and  the  aflectionate  reception  he  met  vith  at  Mens, 
'  would  have  been  felt  like  a  triumphal  entrance  by  any  but  a 
'  person  of  his  humble  and  unasEurninp;  Bpirit.'  The  jealousy  of 
th«  French  Goveninient  towards  foreign  preachers,  rendered  it 
unadviaable,  however,  for  him  to  remain  there ;  and  he  had 
formed  a  strong  desire  to  make  the  secluded  and  neglected  re- 
^on  of  the  Alps  the  scene  of  his  labours.  With  as  much  ardour 
ss  many  would  have  sought  the  richest  preferment,  he  longed  to 
become  the  Oberlin  of  the  French  Alps, 

'  "  I  am  alwavfl  dreaming  of  the  High  Alps,"  said  he  in  a  letter  of 
the  8th  of  Sept.'  1823  ;  "  and  I  would  rather  be  Btstionfd  there,  than 
in  the  placex  which  are  under  the  beautiful  sky  of  Languedoc.  In 
the  higher  Alpine  region  I  Hhall  be  the  only  pastor,  and  therefore  more 
at  liberty-  In  the  nouth,  I  shall  be  embarrassed  by  the  presence  and 
conflicting  opinions  of  other  pastors.  With  respect  to  the  description 
which  B— —  has  given  of  these  mountains,  it  may  be  correct  as  to 
some  places  ;  but  still,  the  country  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  the 
Alps  of  Switierhuid.  It  haa  its  advantages  and  even  its  beauties.  If 
there  ere  wolves  and  chamois,  there  are  also  cattle  and  pasturage,  and 
glaciers,  and  picturesque  snots,  and  ubove  all,  an  energetic  race  of 
people,  intelligent,  active,  hardy,  and  patient  under  fatigue,  who  offer 
a  better  soil  for  the  Gospel,  than  the  wealthy  and  corrupt  inhabitants 
of  the  plains  of  the  South."  ' 

At  length,  his  ardent  wishes  were  (Ratified.  On  the  applica- 
tion of  the  ciders  of  the  Protestant  churches  of  Val  Queyras  and 
Val  Fressiniere  to  the  Consistory  of  Orpicrre,  he  was  regularly 
appointed  their  pastor;  but  difficulties  occurred  with  respect  to 
some  formalities  requisite  in  order  to  his  obtaining  the  Govern- 
ment stipend ;  so  that  his  salary  from  the  Continental  Society, 
of  about  fifty  pounds  a  year,  was  his  principal,  if  not  sole  main- 
tenance. 

NefTs  journal  haa  noted  the  16th  of  Jan.  1824,  as  the  day  on 
which  he  arrived  at  Arvicux,  to  take  possession  of  the  habitation 
provided  for  the  pastor  of  the  district.  The  parish  of  Arvieux, 
one  of  the  two  ecclesiastical  sections  into  which  the  department 
c^  the  High  Alps  is  divided,  comprises  the  two  arrondUsemena 
of  Embruu  and  Brian^on.  It  extends  sixty  miles,  in  a  straight 
geographical  line  from  east  to  west;  but  nearly  eighty  miles  must 
be  traversed  throi^h  the  windings  of  the  mountains,  in  the  jour- 
ney from  OP*  eitre""'  ""int  to  t  other.  Within  this  line  are 
Utuated  sev  ri  containing  between  600 

and  700  Pni  ■     di'  into  six  distinct  and  distant 

roupcs.     '1  <        ■     .  wnich  communicates  directly 

'  '1  tlie  f  n  by  the  pass  of  the  Col 

"   '  tne  sectioB  of  Arrienx. 


30  Memoir  of  Felioa  Neffi 

This  valley,  extending  from  the  foot  of  Monte  Viso  to  Mont 
Dauphin,  comprises  the  whole  length  of  the  river  Guil,  to  its 
junction  with  the  Durance,  together  with  the  lateral  glens  through 
which  descend  the  mountain  torrents  that  fall  into  the  Guil.  The 
western  quarter  of  the  section  consists  of  the  valley  of  Fressi- 
niere,  watered  by  a  torrent  which  pours  itself  into  the  Durance 
half-way  between  Brian^on  and  Embrun.  Sixty  miles  of  rug- 
ged road  must  be  trodden  by  the  pastor  stationed  at  La  Chalp, 
near  Arvieux,  before  he  can  perform  his  duties  at  Champsaur,  at 
the  eastern  extremity  of  his  parish.  San  Veran,  at  the  opposite 
extremity,  is  twelve  miles  west  of  La  Chalp  ;  he  has  also  a  dis- 
tance of  twenty  miles  towards  the  south  and  of  thirty-three  to- 
wards the  north,  when  his  services  are  required  by  the  little  flocks 
at  Vars  and  La  Grave.  The  contrast  which  these  savage  defiles 
on  the  wron^  side  of  the  Alps,  present  to  the  Piedmontese  val- 
leys, is  very  striking.  The  latter  are,  for  the  most  part,  beau- 
tifully diversified  by  green  meadows  and  rich  corn-fields  ;  the  de- 
clivities are  clothed  with  thick  foliage,  and  the  innumerable  flocks 
and  herds  browsing  on  the  mountain  sides,  present  an  animated 
picture.  They  form,  in  fact,  Mr.  Gilly  remarks,  *  a  garden  with 
*  deserts  in  view.**  Some  are  barren  and  repulsive,  but  they  are 
exceptions. 

'  On  the  contrary,  in  the  Alpine  retreats  of  the  French  Protestants, 
fertility  is  the  exception,  and  barrenness  the  common  aspect.  There, 
the  tottering  clilFs,  the  sombre  and  frowning  rocks,  which,  from  their 
fatiguing  continuity,  look  like  a  mournful  veil  which  is  never  to  be 
raised, — the  tremendous  abysses,  the  comfortless  cottages,  and  the  ever 
present  dangers,  from  avalanches  and  thick  mists  and  clouds,--  proclaim 
that  this  is  a  land  which  man  never  would  have  chosen,  even  for  his 
hiding-place,  but  from  the  direst  necessity.' — p.  113. 

• 

The  Pass  of  the  Guil,  which  is  one  of  the  keys  of  France  on 
the  Italian  frontier,  presents  scenery  of  the  most  terrible  mag- 
nificence, that  might  amply  repay  the  summer  traveller  for  the 
fatigue  of  exploring  this  savage  defile ;  but,  in  winter,  it  is  so 
perilous  that  lives  are  lost  almost  every  year.  Yet,  NefT  repeat- 
edly forced  his  way  through  it  in  the  middle  of  January,  when  it 
is  notoriously  unsafe.  We  must  make  room  for  the  following 
description  and  the  reflections  which  are  subjoined. 

'  On  issuing  out  of  the  depths  of  the  defile,  the  frowning  battlements 
of  Chateau  Queyras,  built  on  a  lofty  projecting  cliff,  on  the  edge  of  the 
torrent,  and  backed  by  the  barrier  wall  of  Alps,  which,  at  this  season 
of  the  year,  towers  like  a  bulwark  of  ice  between  the  dominions  of 
France,  and  those  of  the  king  of  Sardinia,  present  a  picture  of  the  most 
striking  magnificence.  Every  thing  combines  to  give  an  interest  to 
the  scene.  In  the  far  distances  are  the  snowy  peaks  of  Monte  Viso,  of 
dazzling  white^  and  in  the  fore-ground,  the  rustic  aqueducts,  composed 


Memoir  of  Feluv  Neff.  31 

in  the  simplest  manner  of  wooden  troughs^  supported  on  lofty  scaffold- 
ing, and  crossing  and  recrossing  the  narrow  valley ;  which  form  a 
striking  contrast  between  the  durability  of  the  works  of  God's  hands, 
the  everlasting  mountains,  and  the  perishable  devices  of  men.  About 
a  mile  and  a  half,  on  the  Guillestre  side,  from  Chateau  Qneyras,  a 
rough  path,  on  the  left,  conducts  to  Arvieux :  and  here  a  different 
prospect  opens  to  the  view.  The  signs  of  cultivation  and  of  man's 
presence  increase :  some  pretty  vales,  and  snug-looking  cottages  please 
the  eye ;  and  in  one  spot,  a  frail  but  picturesque  foot-bridge  of  pines 
carelessly  thrown  across  a  chasm,  invites  the  stranger  to  approach 
and  inspect  it.  He  is  almost  appalled  to  find  himself  on  the  bnnk  of 
an  abyss,  many  fathoms  deep,  at  the  bottom  of  which  a  body  of  water 
fbams  and  chafes,  which  has  forced  itself  a  passage  through  the  living 
rock.  The  narrowness  and  depth  of  this  chasm,  and  the  extraordinary 
manner  in  which  it  is  concealea  from  observation,  till  you  are  close  to 
it,  form  one  of  the  greatest  natural  curiosities  in  a  province  which 
abounds  in  objects  of  the  same  sort. 

'  Neif  followed  the  custom  of  those  who  directed  him  to  his  pastoral 
dwelling-place,  and  called  it  Arvieux  in  his  journals.  It  is  not,  how- 
ever, situated  in  the  principal  village  of  the  commune  so  called,  but  at 
La  Chalp,  a  small  hamlet  beyond.  The  church  is  at  Arvieux,  but  the 
minister's  residence  is,  with  the  majority  of  the  Protestant  popula- 
tion, higher  up  the  valley ;  for  in  this  glen,  as  in  all  the  others  where 
the  remains  of  the  primitive  Christians  still  exist,  they  are  invariably 
found  to  have  crept  up  to  the  furthest  habitable  part  of  it.  In  the 
Valley  of  Fressiniere,  the  Protestants,  in  like  manner,  have  penetrated 
to  the  edge  of  the  glacier,  where  they  were  most  likely  to  remain  un- 
molested ;  and  again,  in  the  commune  of  Molines,  Grosse  Pierre,  and 
Fousillarde,  are  at  the  very  furthest  point  of  vegetation ;  and  there  is 
nothing  fit  fur  mortal  to  take  refuge  in,  between  San  Veran  and  the 
eternal  snows  which  mantle  the  pinnacles  of  Monte  Viso. 

'In  the  page  which  records  his  arrival  at  the  humble  white  cottage, 
which  had  been  recently  prepared  for  the  pastor,  in  La  Chalp,  NefF 
has  not  inserted  any  observation  about  the  comforts  or  conveniences  of 
the  habitation  designed  for  his  future  dwelling-place.  It  is  a  small 
low  building,  without  any  thing  to  distinguish  it  but  its  white  front ; 
such  at  least  was  its  aspect  when  I  saw  it :  but  there  was  an  air  of 
cheerfulness  in  its  situation,  facing  the  south,  and  standing  in  a  warm 
sunny  spot,  which  contrasted  strongly  with  the  dismal  hovels  of  Dor- 
milleuse,  where  he  afterwards  spent  most  of  the  winter  months.  It  is 
most  probable  that  he  found  it  totally  devoid  of  every  thing  which  ad- 
ministers to  comfort,  beyond  locality  ;  for  a  memorandum,  written  a 
few  days  after  his  arrival,  mentions  his  having  made  a  journey  to  Guil- 
lestre, for  the  purchase  of  some  household  utensils.  Once  for  all, 
therefore,  I  may  remark,  that  the  reader,  whose  notions  of  the  happi- 
ness of  a  pastor's  life  have  been  formed  in  the  smiling  parsonage  or 
snug  manse,  or  who  has  considered  it  as  deriving  its  enjoyment  from  a 
^  state  of  blissful  repose  and  peacefulncss,  has  widely  erred  from  the 
mark  in  NefTs  case.  His  happiness  was,  to  be  busily  employed  in 
bringing  souls  to  God :  he  seems  not  to  have  set  the  slightest  value  on 
any  of  the  comforts  of  a  home :  or,  if  he  valued  them,  to  have  sacri^ 


32  Mem<Ar  of  Feli.r  Ni-ff. 

ficed  them  cheerfully  to  hi«  iienae  of  duty-  One  of  the  princiiMl 
charms  in  the  recital  of  a  gnod  clereymnn')!  fifu,  is  tlic  chnrecter  of  the 
clergyman  at  hwne.  But  Ncff  had  nmii:  of  the  comforts  of  this  life  to 
cheer  him.  No  family  endearments  welcomed  liim  to  a  peaoefill  fire- 
side after  the  toils  uf  the  day  :  nothing  of  carthlv  softness  smoothed  hit 
pillotv.  His  was  a  career  of  anxiety,  iinmitignted  and  unconaoled  br 
any  thing  but  a  sense  of  duties  performed,  and  of  acceptance  with  GoA 
The  commune  of  ArvieuK,  and  the  chciTful  hamU'ts  of  La  Chatp  and 
Brunichitrd,  were  the  brightest  spots  in  hisextensive  parish  ;  but  thej 
were  nut  the  fitirest  to  his  eye,  for  he  complains  in  several  of  hit)  let' 
ters,  that  the  people  there  were  npoiled  hy  the  odvantiiges  of  their  ai- 
tuation,  and  were  by  no  means  so  well  inclined  to  profit  by  his  instruc- 
tiona,  as  the  inhabitants  of  leas  favoured  ^tuta.'     pp.  115 — 119. 

The  natives  of  Arvieux  are  almost  all  Homan  Catholici. 
Those  of  La  Clialp  and  Brunichard  are,  for  the  moft  part,  Pn>- 
tcBtants.  San  Veran  is  the  highest  village  in  the  valley  of  Quey- 
r«8,  and  the  meet  pious.  It  le,  in  fact,  said  to  be  the  most  ele- 
vat«<l  village  in  Europe ;  and  it  is  a  provincial  eaying  relating  to 
the  mountain  of  San  Veran,  that  it  is  la  piu  alia  on  Pi  mindgent 
pan,  the  highest  spot  where  bread  is  eaten.  It  contains  about 
twenty-three  Protestant  families.  Mr.  Gilly  was  only  the  se> 
cond  Englishman  who  had  penetrated  to  this  obscure  nook  of  the 
Alps.  He  found  the  men  intelligent,  well  read  in  the  Scriptures, 
and  eager  to  converse  on  spiritual  itubjects.  The  village  is  ao 
fenced  in  by  rock  and  mountain  barriers,  that  not  a  road  ap- 
proaches it,  over  which  a  wheel  has  ever  passed.  None  of  the 
comforts  and  few  of  the  conveniences  of  life  have  yet  been  intro- 
duced thcrs.     But,  says  Mr.  Gilly, 

'San  Veran  is  a  garden,  and  a  t^ccoe  of  delighta,  when  com- 
pared with  Dormillpuse,  to  which  the  ]iaHtur  Ijjxtened,  as  soon  na  he 
hod  put  things  in  order  in  this  i>art  uf  liix  parish.  Here  the  huuwt 
are  built  tike  iog-buuiies,  of  mugh  nine  trt-cs,  laid  one  above  another, 
and  composed  <m  several  stories,  whicli  have  a  singularly  picturesque 
look,  nut  unlike  the  chalets  in  Switserlund,  but  lufiier  and  much  mora 
picturesque.  On  the  ground  floor  the  family  dwells ;  bay  and  un- 
thraahcd  corn  occupy  the  first  stoiy,  and  the  second  is  given  up  ta 
grain,  and  tu  stores  of  bread-cakes  and  cheeses,  ranged  on  frame-wvk 
suspended  from  the  roof.  But  at  Dormilleuae,  the  huts  are  wretched 
constructions  uf  stone  and  mud,  from  which  fresh  air,  comfort,  and 
cleanliness  seem  to  be  utterly  excluded.  CleanlincM,  indeed,  is  not  a 
virtue  \vhich  distinguishes  any  of  the  pouple  in  these  mountains ;  aitd 
with  such  a  nice  sense  of  moral  perception  as  they  displey,  and  witb 
such  strict  attention  to  the  duties  of  religion,  it  is  astoititiliiiig  that  they 
have  nut  yet  learnt  to  practise  those  ablutions  in  their  persuns  or  habi- 
tations, which  are  as  necessary  to  comfort  as  tii  health.  Even  ammg 
the  bstter  provided,  for  they  are  all  jJcawintB  alike,  tillers  of  the  earth, 
and  small  proprietors,  the  wealthiest  of  ivhom  (if  wo  can  speak  of 
frealth,  even  cranparatively,  on  such  poor  ii^il,]  puts  his  Imna  to  tka 


his  Imnd  to  tka  I 


Memoir  of  Felix  Neff.  33 

spade  and  hoe  with  the  same  alacrity  as  the  poorest^  the  same  unclean- 
liness  prevails ;  their  apartments  are  unswept^  their  woollen  garments 
unwashed,  and  their  hands  and  faces  as  little  accustomed  to  cold  water> 
as  if  there  was  a  perpetual  drought  in  the  land.  I  should  fear  that 
the  excellent  NeflT,  with  all  the  improvements  which  he  introduced 
into  his  parish,  either  omitted,  or  failed  to  convince  the  folks  there, 
that  cleanliness  is  not  a  forbidden  luxury,  but  one  of  the  necessary 
duties  of  life. 

'  But  though  their  habitations  and  their  persons  are,  thus  far,  likely 
to  leave  some  disagreeable  impressions  on  those  whose  sensations  have 
been  rendered  quick  and  impatient  by  English  habits,  yet  the  sim- 
plicity, amiability,  and  good  manners  which  prevail  among  these 
children  of  nature,  are  so  winning,  and  the  images  and  associations 
that  rise  up  in  the  mind,  in  this  retreat  of  Protestantism  in  France, 
supply  such  profuse  enjoyment,  and  give  such  a  grace,  as  well  as  a 
charm,  to  any  intercourse  with  them,  that  it  is  impossible  not  to  write 
down  the  time  that  may  be  spent  in  San  Veran  and  in  its  contiguous 
hamlets,  among  the  most  interesting  of  one's  life.  To  those  who  un- 
derstand the  patois,  or  to  whom  it  is  accurately  translated,  as  it  was 
to  us,  the  poetical  and  elegant  turn  which  is  given  to  conversation,  by 
the  constant  use  of  figures  and  metaphors  derived  from  mountain 
scenery,  and  from  the  accidents  and  exposures  of  Alpine  life,  enhance 
the  pleasure,  and  send  the  traveller  home  well  satisfied  with  his  ex- 
cursion. In  short,  it  is  the  moral  and  intellectual  refinement  about 
these  mountaineers,  which  renders  their  society  interesting  in  a  high 
degree,  and  furnishes  matter  for  reflection  long  afterwards.'  pp.  124—6. 

The  rock  on  which  Dormilleuse  stands,  is  almost  inaccessible 
even  in  the  finest  months  in  the  year.  From  the  village  of  La 
Roche,  where  the  Durance  is  crossed  by  a  long  timber  bridge,  it 
is  one  continued  ascent  of  five  hours,  the  latter  part  steep  and 
dangerous,  to  this  bleak  and  gloomy  spot.  Nature  is  there 
^  stem  and  terrible,  without  oiTering  any  boon  but  that  of  per- 
*  sonal  security  from  the  fury  of  the  oppressor.'  When  the  sun 
shines  brightest,  the  side  of  the  mountain  opposite  to  the  village, 
and  on  the  same  level,  is  covered  with  snow ;  nor  is  any  thing 
seen  that  relieves  the  forlorn  prospect.  Yet,  in  this  wretched 
place,  Neff,  relinquishing  the  scanty  comforts  of  his  station  at  La 
Chalp,  took  up  his  head-quarters  from  November  to  April,  be- 
cause there  his  services  seemed  to  be  most  requisite,  and  because 
he  had  every  thing  to  teach  the  poor  inhabitants,  even  to  the 
planting  of  a  potato.  ^  But  his  whole  life  was  a  sacrifice.'  The 
population  consisted  of  forty  families,  every  one  Protestant,  and, 
though  sunk  in  ignorance  and  degeneracy,  interesting  to  him,  as 
^  of  the  unmixed  race  of  the  ancient  Waldenses,  who  never  bowed 
^  their  knee  before  an  idol,  even  when  all  the  Protestants  of  the 
^  valley  of  Queyras  dissembled  their  faith.' 

', "  The  as]  of  this  desert,"  (writes  NeflT,)  "  both  terrible  and 
jiiiitflnej  whicn  i    ved  as  the  asylum  of  truth,  when  almost  all  the 

IX.—        I.  K 


34  Memoir  of  Felia:  Neff. 

world  lay  in  darkness ;  the  recollection  of  the  faithful  martyrs  of  old» 
the  deep  caverns  into  which  they  retired  to  read  the  Bible  in  secret, 
and  to  worship  the  Father  of  Light  in  spirit  and  in  truth ;  — every 
thing  tends  to  elevate  my  soul,  and  to  inspire  it  with  sentiments  dif- 
ficult to  describe.  But  with  what  grief  ao  I  reflect  upon  the  present 
state  of  the  unhappy  descendants  of  those  ancient  witnesses  to  the 
crucified  Redeemer !  A  miserable  and  degenerate  race,  whose  moral 
and  physical  aspect  reminds  the  Christian,  that  sin  and  death  are  the 
only  true  inheritance  of  the  children  of  Adam.  Now  you  can  scarcely 
find  one  among  them  who  has  any  true  knowledge  of  the  Saviour, 
although  they  almost  all  testify  the  greatest  veneration  for  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  But,  though  they  are  nothing  in  themselves,  let  us  hope 
that  they  are  well  beloved  for  their  fathers'  sakes,  and  that  the  Lord 
will  once  more  permit  the  light  of  his  countenance  and  the  rays  of  his 
grace  to  shine  upon  those  places,  which  he  formerly  chose  for  his 
sanctuary."  '     p.  134. 

It  was  the  wretchedness  of  these  poor  mountaineers  in  the 
three  higliest  villages  of  Val  Fressiniere,  that  induced  Neff  to 
devote  more  of  his  time  to  them  than  to  any  other  quarter  of  his 
parish :  '  seeing  them  deprived  of  almost  every  temporal  enjoy- 
^  ment,  he  determined  to  give  them  all  the  spiritual  comfort  ne 
*  could  impart*^  Nor  were  his  labours  bestowed  upon  an  un- 
grateful soil.  For  the  details  of  his  proceedings  and  their  results, 
we  must  refer  our  readers  to  the  Memoir.  In  emulation  of  the 
example  of  Oberlin,  he  became  for  their  sakes,  mason,  carpenter, 
architect,  engineer,  agriculturist ;  working  with  his  own  hands 
at  the  head  of  his  reluctant  parishioners,  and  by  this  means 
shaming  them  into  exertions  for  the  common  benefit.  In  order 
to  qualify  himself  to  become  their  schoolmaster  also,  he  deter- 
mined to  make  himself  master  of  the  patois  of  Daupbin^ ;  aad 
in  this  he  succeeded.  In  a  miserable  stable,  the  only  school- 
room, this  admirable  man  was  to  be  seen  patiently  teaching  his 
young  parishioners  the  elements  of  the  French  language ;  and 
then,  to  vary  the  dull  routine  of  reading  and  spelling,  and  to 
keep  his  pupils  in  good  humour,  giving  them  lessons  in  music. 
The  happy  result  of  his  experiments  made  him  feci  anxious  to 
have  a  better  accommodation  for  his  school ;  and  having  per^ 
suaded  each  family  in  Dormilleuse  to  furnish  a  man  to  work 
under  his  directions,  the  good  Pastor  undertook  to  build  a  school- 
room, which  was  speedily  completed.  His  crowning  work  was 
the  institution  of  a  normal  (or  model)  school  for  training  adults 
to  become  teachers.  It  was  the  most  difficult  and  irksome,  but 
the  most  important  of  all  his  labours.  And  it  was  his  last ;  for, 
the  unremitted  attention  which  it  required,  added  to  the  severity 
of  the  winter  of  1826,  7>  broke  up  his  shattered  constitution.  He 
has  left  an  interesting  record  of  the  motives  which  induced  him 
to  undertake  this  drudgery,  and  of  the  difficulties  he  had  to  sur- 
mount.   Dormil      se  was  the  spot  which  he  chose  for  his 


Memoir  of  Feliv  Neff,  38r 

of  action,  on  account  of  its  seclusion^  and  because  its  whole  po- 
pulation was  Protestant ;  and  he  had  sufficient  influence  to  induce 
those  who  offered  themselves  as  students,  to  commit  themselves 
to  a  five-months'  rigid  confinement  within  a  prison-house  walled 
up  with  ice  and  snow. 

*  Nothing  can  be  compared  *,  remarks  Mr.  Gilly,  '  to  the  resolution 
and  self-denial  of  the  volunteers  who  enrolled  their  names  under  Neif 
for  this  service^  but  the  similar  qualities  which  were  called  into  ac- 
tion by  our  gallant  officers  and  seamen  who  embarked  in  the  polar  ex- 
peditions^ with  the  certainty  before  them  of  being  snowed  or  iced  up 
during  many  months  of  privation.  In  their  case^  the  hope  of  promo- 
tion and  of  reputation^  and  the  ardour  of  scientific  research,  were  the 
moving  inducement.  In  that  of  the  pastor  and  his  young  friends,  a 
sense  of  duty,  and  thoughts  fixed  on  heavenly  things,  constituted  the 
impulse.  To  Neff  himself,  it  was  a  season  of  incessant  toil,  and  that 
of  the  most  irksome  kind.  He  did  violence  to  his  natural  inclination 
every  way.  His  mind  and  body  were  kept  in  subjection.  He  was  de- 
voted to  his  profession,  as  a  minister  and  preacher  of  the  Gospel ;  and 
yet  he  suspended  the  pursuits  wliich  were  more  congenial  to  his  tastes 
and  habits,  and  went  back  to  first  princijiles,  and  consented  to  teach 
the  simplest  rudiments,  and  meekly  sunk  down  to  the  practice  of  the 
humblest  elementary  drudgery,  when  he  saw  the  necessity  of  laying  a 
foundation  for  a  system  of  instruction  different  to  that  which  had 
hitherto  prevailed  in  this  neglected  region.  His  patience,  his  humi- 
lity, his  good-humour  and  perseverance,  his  numberless  expedients  to 
expand  the  intellect  of  his  pupils,  to  store  their  minds,  and  to  keep  up 
a  good  understanding  among  them,  are  all  subjects  of  admiration,  whicn 
it  is  beyond  the  power  of  language  to  express.*     pp.  262,  3- 

'  The  young  men  who  submitted  to  their  pastor's  system  of  disci* 
pline  at  Dormilleuse,  must  have  their  sliare  also  of  our  admiration. 
We  cannot  but  feel  respect  for  students  who  willingly  shut  themselves 
up  amidst  the  most  comfortless  scenes  in  nature,  and  submitted  to  the 
severity  of  not  less  than  fourteen  hours  of  hard  study  a  day,  where  the 
only  recreation  was  to  go  from  dryer  lessons  to  lectures  in  geography 
and  music.  It  was  a  long  probation  of  hardship.  Their  fare  was  in 
strict  accordance  with  the  rest  of  their  situation.  It  consisted  of  a 
store  of  salted  meat,  and  rye  bread,  whicli  had  been  baked  in  autumn, 
and  when  they  came  to  use  it,  was  so  hard,  that  it  required  to  be 
chopped  up  with  hatchets,  and  to  be  moistened  with  hot  water.  Meal 
and  flour  will  not  keep  in  this  mountain  atmosphere,  but  would  be- 
come mouldy ; — they  are,  therefore,  obliged  to  bake  it  soon  after  the 
com  is  threshed  out.  Our  youthful  anchorites  were  lodged  gratuitously 
by  the  people  of  Dormilleuse,  who  also  liberally  supplied  them  with 
wood  for  fuel,  scarce  as  it  was ;  but  if  the  pastor  had  not  laid  in  a  stock 
of  provisions,  the  scanty  resources  of  the  village  could  not  have  met 
the  demands  of  so  many  mouths,  in  addition  to  its  native  population. 
The  party  consisted  of  five  from  Val  Queyras,  one  from  Vars,  five, 
from  Champsaur,  two  from  Chancelas,  four  from  the  lower  part  of  the 
valley  of  Fressiniere,  and  eight  from  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of 
Dorxnilleuse. 

E  2 


36  Memoir  of  Felix  Neff, 

*  Neff  had  the  satisiaction  to  find  that  his  plan  answered  well,  and 
this  was  reward  enough.  "  I  never ",  said  he>  ''  can  be  sufficiently 
thankful  to  Almighty  God  for  the  blessing  which  he  has  vouchsafed 
to  shed  upon  this  undertaking,  and  for  the  strength  he  has  giren  me 
to  enable  me  to  bear  the  fatigue  of  it.  Oh !  may  he  continue  to  ex- 
tend his  gracious  protection,  and  to  support  me  under  my  infirmities, 
or  rather,  to  deliver  me  from  them,  that  I  may  be  able  to  devote  my- 
self to  his  service  and  glory,  to  my  life's  end  i "  '     pp.  264,  5. 

Among  other  novel  studies  to  which  Neff  introduced  his  pajnls, 
was  Geography.  This  was  made  a  matter  of  recreation  after 
dinner,  and  they  pored  over  the  maps  with  a  feeUng  of  delight 
and  amusement  which  was  quite  new  to  them.  The  remark 
which  he  makes  on  the  moral  influence  of  such  studies,  deserves 
attention.  We  have  long  been  persuaded  that  the  ignorance  that 
prevails  in  Christian  congregations  upon  such  topics,  is  very  un- 
favourable to  an  intelligent  zeal  for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel,  or 
a  sympathy  with  Missionary  exertions. 


€  ft 


Up  to  this  time,  I  had  been  astonished  by  the  little  interest  they 
took,  Cnristian-minded  as  they  were,  in  the  subject  of  Christian  mis- 
sions. But,  when  they  began  to  have  some  idea  of  geography,  I  dis- 
covered that  their  former  ignorance  of  this  science,  and  of  the  very 
existence  of  many  foreign  nations  in  distant  quarters  of  the  globe,  was 
the  cause  of  such  indifference.  As  soon  as  they  began  to  learn  who 
the  people  are,  who  require  to  have  the  Gospel  preached  to  them,  and 
in  what  part  of  the  globe  they  dwell,  they  felt  the  same  concern  for 
the  circulation  of  the  Gospel  that  other  Christians  entertain.  Theae 
new  acquirements,  in  fact,  enlarged  their  spirit,  made  new  creatores 
of  them,  and  seemed  to  triple  their  very  existence."  '     p^  259. 

Poor  as  the  district  was,  Nefl*  was  successful  in  raising  some 
small  contributions  in  aid  of  religious  societies.  He  understood 
too  well  the  beneficial  influence  of  a  sympathetic  concern  in  the 
religious  interests  of  others,  to  neglect  to  encourage  it  in  his  little 
flock ;  and  though  the  sum  raised  was  very  small,  he  had  the 
gratification  of  being  able  to  inform  the  committees  of  the  Bible 
Society  and  the  Missionary  Society,  ^  that  such  feeble  support  as 

*  they  could  render  to  the  cause,  was  cheerfully  proffered  by  the 

*  shepherds  and  goatherds  of  the  High  Alps.'  In  concert  with 
the  principal  inhabitants  of  the  Protestant  hamlets,  he  organized 
a  Bible  Association,  by  means  of  which  every  family  was  enabled 
to  become  possessed  of  a  copy  of  the  Scriptures. 

Some  very  interesting  details  are  given  of  NefTs  method  of 
dealing  with  the  Roman  Catholics  of  his  parish.  The  priests 
had  the  mortification  to  see  many  of  their  respective  flocks  become 
proselytes  to  the  Protestant  teacher ;  yet  it  was  some  time  before 
they  resented  his  exertions ;  and  even  then«  his  meekness  and 
conciliatory  deportment  took  the  sting  out  of  their  indignation. 
What  might  not  a  few  such  men  do  for  poor  Ireland  [ 


Memoir  of  Felios  Neff,  37 

The  winter  of  1825,  followed  by  the  cold  spring  of  1826,  had 
shaken  NefTs  constitution;  and  an  accidental  sprain  of  his  knee 
contributed  to  weaken  his  frame.  He  struggled  pretty  well 
through  the  summer;  but,  during  the  winter  of  1826,  7»  his 
strength  rapidly  diminished,  and  he  became  conscious  that  it  was 
time  to  seek  K)r  medical  succour,  and  to  submit  to  a  removal  to 
his  native  climate.  On  the  17th  of  April,  1827,  he  took  a  final 
farewell  of  his  presbytery  at  La  Chalp.  On  his  arrival  at  Geneva, 
his  native  air  produced  a  temporary  improvement ;  but  in  a  short 
time,  the  symptoms  of  his  malady  returned  with  aggravated  vio- 
lence, and  he  found  himself  unable  to  digest  any  solid  food.  For 
a  whole  year,  his  only  nourishment  was  milk.  In  June  1828, 
he  was  advised  by  his  physicians  to  try  the  effect  of  the  baths  of 
Plombieres,  which  seemed  at  first  to  be  beneficial ;  but  it  soon 
became  evident  that  nothing  could  arrest  the  progress  of  his  dis- 
order. His  last  days  were  worthy  of  his  life.  Having  returned 
to  Geneva,  he  lingered  in  extreme  weakness  and  suffering  till  the 
12th  of  April,  1829,  when,  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-one,  he 
entered  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord.  His  last  letter,  traced  at  inter- 
vals, when  he  was  almost  blind,  a  few  days  before  his  death,  is 
exquisitely  touching  and  apostolic. 


i  n 


^'  Adieu,  dear  friend,  Andr6  Blanc,  Antoine  Blanc,  all  my  friends 
the  Pelissiers,  whom  I  love  tenderly  ;  Francis  Dumont  and  his  wife  ; 
Isaac  and  his  wife;  beloved  Deslois,  Emilie  Bonnet,  &c.  &c.;  Alex- 
andrine and  her  mother ;  all,  all  the  brethren  and  sisters  of  Mens,  adieu^ 
adieu.  I  ascend  to  Our  Father  in  entire  peace !  Victory  !  victory  ! 
victory  !  through  Jesus  Christ.  Fblix  Nepp."  ' 

During  his  residence  at  Geneva,  NefF  composed  a  number  of 
religious  meditations,  which  have  been  printed,  and  are  held 
in  deserved  estimation  throughout  Switzerland  *.  His  charac- 
ter was  every  way  highly  extraordinary.  Rar^y,  indeed,  have  so 
much  ardour  and  zeal,  so  much  vivacity  and  warmth,  been  tem- 
pered, directed,  and  enhanced  by  so  much  practical  wisdom, 
meekness,  and  unaffected  humility.  His  singular  freedom  from 
any  ambitious  views,  his  striking  disinterestedness  and  singleness 
of  purpose,  were  in  him  the  fruit,  not  of  natural  disposition,  but 
of  the  triumphant  ascendancy  of  principles  peculiar  to  the  faith 
he  had  embraced.  It  is  ascribed  to  his  extreme  humility,  but 
indicated  rather  his  entire  sincerity,  that  he  ^  even  regarded  his 
^  own  energy  and  activity  as  something  that  partook  of  the  nature 
*  of  sin  ;  as  being  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  more  frequent 
^  communion  with  God ;  as  distracting  his  thoughts  from  himself 


*  They  are  stated  to  have  gone  through  several  editions.  Cong. 
Mag.  April,  1832,  p.  200.  It  is  singular  that  Mr.  Gilly  should  not 
have  become  acquainted  with  this  fact.  He  appears  not  to  have  met 
with  the  work. 


Ml. 


38  Memoir  of  Felia  Neff.. 

^  and  those  secret  contemplations  which  are  needful  for  the  ihdi- 
'  viduai; 

'  He  was  fully  sensible,  that  an  active  spirit,  and  an  affectionate 
concern  for  the  temporal  and  spiritual  concern  of  others,  are  qualities 
excellent  in  themselves,  and  indispensable  for  the  good  of  the  Christiatt 
commonwealth^  and  for  the  extension  of  Christ's  kingdom  ;  but,  in  his 
own  case,  he  was  afraid  that  they  absorbed  other  qualities.  He  knew 
that  it  was  not  the  establishment  of  schools,  the  conducting  of  mis- 
sions, or  the  preaching  to  others,  which  of  themselves  constitute  the 
life  of  the  soul :  on  the  contrary,  that  the  strenuous  pursuit  of  great 
usefulness,  often  becomes  a  snare  and  a  pitfall  and  a  covering  under 
which  pride  lurks.  And  he  felt,  with  the  Apostle,  the  necessity  of 
bringing  himself  under  subjection,  lest,  when  he  had  preached  to 
others,  he  himself  might  become  a  cast-away.  It  was  under  the  in- 
fluence of  this  feelings  that  he  was  inclined  to  set  small  value  upon 
his  own  labours. 

'  No  man,'  continues  Mr.  Gilly,  in  portraying  his  character,  *  ever 
preached,  or  insisted  u|)on  the  main  and  essential  doctrinal  points  of 
the  Gospel  more  strongly  than  he  did ;  these  were  put  prominently 
forward  in  all  his  sermons,  in  his  conversations,  in  his  correspondei\ce, 
and  in  his  private  diaries ;  but  at  tiic  same  time  he  exacted  attention 
to  the  ordinary  duties  of  life,  with  all  the  strenuousness  of  one  who 
would  admit  of  no  compromise.  It  was  his  anxiety  to  build  up  the 
Christian  on  a  foundation  where  self-dependence,  vain-glory,  and 
imaginary  merit,  were  to  have  no  place  whatever ;  and  yet  every  act 
of  his  ministry  proved  that  he  set  a  just  value  on  knowledge  and  at- 
tainments. It  was  his  labour  of  love  to  show,  that  whenever  any 
addition  is  made  to  our  stock  of  knowledge,  we  not  only  gain  some- 
thing in  the  way  of  enjoyment,  but  are  laying  up  a  store  for  the  im- 
provement of  our  moral  and  religious  feelings,  and  of  our  general 
habits  of  industry.  The  spiritual  advancement  of  his  flock  was  the 
great  end  and  object  of  all  his  toils ;  but  no  man  ever  took  a  warmer 
interest  in  the  temporal  comforts  of  those  about  him  ;  and  this  he 
evinced  by  instructing  them  in  the  management  of  their  fields  and 
gardens,  in  the  construction  of  their  cottages,  and  in  employing  all  his 
own  acquirements  in  philosophy  and  science  for  the  melioration  of 
their  condition.  He  was  not  only  the  apostle,  but,  as  somebody  said 
of  Oberlin,  ''he  was  also  the  Triptolemus"  of  the  High  Alps. 

*  To  discharge  the  proper  duties  of  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel,  was  a 
vehement  desire  with  Neff,  strong  as  a  passion  ;  his  heart  and  soul 
were  in  them  ;  yet  he  often  left  this  walk,  so  glorious  in  his  eyes,  to 
follow  another  track,  and  to  point  out  those  things  to  the  notice  of  his 
people,  which  related  to  their  worldly  conveniences.  It  was  his  high 
and  lofty  ambition,  to  elevate  their  thoughts  and  hopes  to  the  noblest 
objects  to  which  immortal  beings  can  aspire,  and  to  raise  the  standard^ 
until  they  should  reach  to  the  fulness  of  the  stature  of  Christ :  and 
yet  he  so  condescended  to  things  of  low  estate,  as  to  become  a  teacher 
of  a,  b,  c,  not  only  to  ignorant  infancy,  but  to  the  dull  and  unpliant 
capacities  of  adults.  Beginning  with  the  most  tiresome  rudiments,  he 
proceeded  upwards,  leading  on  his  scholars  methodically,  kindly,  and 
patiently^  until  he  had  made  them  proficients  in  reading,  WTiting,  and 


Memoir  of  FelLv  Neff.  39 

.rithmetic,  and  could  lead  them  into  the  pleasanter  paths  of  music, 
;eography,  history,  and  astronomy.  His  mind  was  too  enlarged  to 
ear  that  he  should  be  teaching  his  peasant  boys  too  much.  It  was 
lis  aim  to  show  what  a  variety  of  enjoyments  may  be  extracted  out  of 
:nowledge,  and  that  even  the  shepherd  and  the  goatherd  of  the  moun- 
ain  side,  will  be  all  the  happier  and  the  better  for  every  piece  of  solid 
nformation  that  he  can  acquire. 

'  Neff  was  a  man  of  the  most  ardent  and  elastic  zeal,  else  he  never 
!0uld  have  dedicated  himself  so  entirely  to  the  work  of  a  missionary 
lastor  in  a  foreign  country :  yet  he  brought  the  good  sense  of  a  mas- 
luline  understanding  to  bear  upon  all  his  religious  projects  :  he  exer- 
ised  a  degree  of  prudence  seldom  witnessed  in  conjunction  with  such 
irdour,  and  he  was  constantly  checking  the  ebullitions  of  his  spirit, 
tnd  tempering  his  zeal  with  salutary  prudence.  The  nicest  discretion, 
ind  the  most  judicious  caution,  distinguished  his  proceedings.  This 
vas  especially  manifested  in  the  selection  and  training  of  his  catechists. 
3e  knew  that  a  few  young  men,  well  prepared,  would  do  more  good 
imong  their  countrymen,  than  a  host  of  undisciplined  enthusiasts  and 
11-taught  novices. 

'  The  broad  distinctions  and  uncompromising  truths  of  Protestant- 
sm  were  matters  of  awful  sanctity  with  Neff;  and  yet,  though  he  was 
;he  pastor  of  a  flock  opposed  to  ropery  by  all  the  strone  prejudices  of 
lereditary  separation,  I  might  almost  say  of  deep-rooted  aversion,  yet 
^ith  dogmatical  and  polemical  Protestantism  he  would  have  nothing 
»  do.  He  made  numberless  converts  from  Romanism,  not  so  much 
yj  argument  and  discussion,  as  by  mildly  inculcating  the  true  spirit 
It  the  Gospel ;  not  by  dwelling  on  topics  of  strife,  and  on  points  of 
lifference,  but  on  points  of  universal  agreement,  and  by  exhibiting  our 
x>mmon  Christianity  in  its  most  persuasive  form,  until  their  hearts 
nelted  before  the  One  Mediator  and  Intercessor,  and  they  said.  Your 
Gfod  shall  be  our  God,  and  your  creed  shall  be  our  creed. 

<  He  was  rigid  in  his  notions  of  Christian  deportment;  yet  there  was 
I  meekness,  and  a  kindness  of  manner  about  him,  whicn  conciliated 
ill,  and  convinced  them  that  he  had  their  best  interests  at  heart ;  so 
nuch  so,  that  perhaps  no  man  was  ever  more  reverenced  and  loved.' 

pp.311— 14. 

A  most  instructive  passage  occurs  in  one  of  NefTs  letters,  in 
reference  to  the  proper  way  of  dealing  with  Roman  Catholics. 
While  he  was  confined  to  his  bed  at  Plorobieres,  he  received 
several  visits  from  one  of  the  cures,  and  from  some  young  Romish 
ecclesiastics.  *'  Had  they  come  for  controversy  %  says  this  ad- 
mirable man,  ^  I  should  not  have  been  able  to  receive  them ;  but 
'  they  carefully  avoided  every  thing  that  could  fatigue  me,  and 
'  even  listened  willingly  to  the  few  words  I  addressed  to  them. 
'  They  were  surprised  to  hear  a  Pro*^stant  speak  of  the  conver- 
'  sion  of  the  heart  and  of  spiritual  life  in  the  same  terms  as  some 
'  of  their  most  eminent  divines.**  Most  of  their  prejudices,  he 
idds,  proceed  from  their  ignorance  of  all  that  concerns  true  Pro- 
keatantism ;  ^  and  they  are  half  disarmed  when  we  speak  to  them, 


40  The  Buccaneer. 

^  without  any  argument,  of  that  which  constitutes  the  life,  the 
*  strength,  and  the  peace  of  the  soul/ 

We  cannot  lay  down  the  Volume  without  again  tendering  our 
best  thanks  to  the  Author  of  this  very  interesting  memoir,  whose 
piety,  candour,  and  benevolence  are  unobtrusively,  but  unequi- 
vocally evinced  in  its  pages.  To  have  selected  such  a  subject, 
does  honour  to  the  Biographer ;  and  no  one  could  do  justice  to 
the  character  of  such  a  man  as  Felix  NefF,  without  becoming  in 
some  degree  assimilated  in  feeling  to  the  subject  of  his  por- 
traiture. 

Art.  III.     The  Buccaneer,    A  Tale.     In  three  Volumes,  pp,  966. 
Price  1/.  11*.  6d.    London,  1832. 

Tl/'E  presume  that  the  name  of  the  Author,  though  not  an- 
^  nounced  on  the  title-page,  is  no  secret.  Yet,  had  we  not 
been  informed  upon  the  best  authority,  that  this  tale  is  the  pro- 
duction of  a  deservedly  popular  female  writer,  we  confess  that  we 
should  not  have  detected  the  pen  of  Mrs.  HaU.  There  is  a 
masculine  vigour  and  breadth  of  style,  a  dramatic  force  of  con- 
ception in  the  characters,  and  a  range  of  imagination,  not  dis- 
played in  any  of  her  former  writings,  and  very  rarely  exhibited 
by  any  female  author.  The  power  of  mind  exerted  in  realising 
and  depicting  scenes  with  which  the  writer  cannot  by  possibili^ 
have  been  familiarized,  except  by  the  writings  of  others,  is  indeed 
extraordinary.  If,  in  these  volumes,  Mrs.  Hall  must  be  con- 
sidered as  an  imitator,  it  is  a  pupiPs  imitation  of  his  master, 
which  does  honour  to  both.  In  the  bold  track  which  Scott  first 
opened,  it  required  almost  equal  courage  and  tact  to  follow. 
There  is  much  in  these  volumes  that  reminds  us  of  the  great  de- 
parted magician,  though  nothing  that  can  be  regarded  as  servilely 
borrowed ;  and  we  might  almost  fancy  that  he  had  lent  his  wand, 
although  it  is  no  longer  the  same  arm  that  wields  it.  The  hand 
is  slighter,  yet  not  feeble ;  and  if  there  is  not  the  same  force  of 
muscle,  there  is  the  strength  of  excitement.  But,  in  stepping  into 
this  magic  circle,  a  female  writer  of  necessity  treads  dangerous 
ground.  She  is  required  to  lay  aside  as  it  were  the  costume  of 
her  sex,  to  assume  a  masculine  voice,  and  to  tread  sometimes  on 
the  very  verge  of  those  proprieties  which  are  the  outworks  of 
feminine  delicacy.  Such  characters  as  the  Buccaneer  and  his 
associates  are  rough  subjects  for  a  lady^s  pencil ;  though  bandits, 
outlaws,  and  corsairs  are  very  picturesoue  personages,  and  have 
found  favour  in  the  eyes  of  at  least  the  ladies  of  romance.  Mrs. 
Hall  has,  upon  the  whole,  acquitted  herself  in  this  false  position 
with  as  few  violations  of  moral  decorum  as  the  case  would  admit 
of;  but,  in  those  parts  of  the  story  and  dialogue  in  which  such 
wild  and  coarse  personages  are  introduced,  it  is  more  by  what  they 


The  Buccaneer.  41 

do  not  say,  than  by  what  they  do,  that  we  gather  that  they  ar^ 
under  the  restraints  imposed  by  a  lady^s  presence.  There  is 
much  less  swearing  and  profane  vulgarism  than  would  be  perfectly 
natural,  in  the  conversation  of  such  worthies,  or  than  we  should 
expect  to  meet  with  in  a  tale  of  a  buccaneer ;  and  we  give  the 
Author  credit  for  a  wish  to  keep  her  pages  as  clear  as  might  be 
deemed  expedient  from  such  dis-embellishments ;  but  there  is 
quite  enough  to  preclude  our  bestowing  unqualified  praise,  or  in- 
discriminately recommending  the  volumes  to  perusal. 

In  fact,  in  meddling  with  such  works,  we  feel  to  be  almost 
compromising  our  grave  judicial  character.  They  are  a  contra- 
band literature,  which  it  is  in  vain  to  attempt  to  prohibit,  but 
which  at  the  same  time  it  is  not  our  business  to  encourage.  In 
perusing  works  of  this  class,  we  too  often  find  ourselves  forced  to 
admire  what  we  cannot  approve ;  pleased,  interested,  fascinated  by 
the  perusal,  and  dissatisfied  with  ourselves  on  reflecting  what  has 
80  much  pleased  us.  Yet,  they  form  too  prominent  and  character- 
istic a  feature  of  our  literature  to  be  passed  over ;  and  the  amount 
of  talent  and  genius  lavished  upon  this  class  of  productions,  is  in- 
deed astonishing.  In  no  otner  department,  perhaps,  is  the 
literature  of  the  day  so  fertile  of  talent.  Whatever  else  does  not 
sell,  or  fails  to  obtain  readers,  tales  and  stories  find  a  market 
always  open  and  a  perpetual  demand.  And  writers  are  not 
altogether  to  be  blamed,  who,  finding  that  such  fancy-works  alone 
ensure  a  sale,  strike  into  this  line  of  composition.  It  is  well  when 
they  can  be  rendered  subservient  to  useful  instruction ;  but  it 
is  more  safe  to  class  them  under  the  head  of  Amusement,  since 
their  efficiency  as  instruments  of  mental  or  moral  training  is  very 
indirect  and  limited.  The  tendency  of  a  tale  does  not  fie  in  its 
^  moral  %  but  in  the  company  and  associations  to  which  the  story 
introduces  the  reader,  in  the  scenes  described  and  the  sentiments 
suggested  in  the  progress*  of  the  tale. 

Tried  by  this  standard,  we  regret  that  we  cannot  award  much 
commendation  to  the  work  before  us.  The  characters  of  Dalton, 
Burrell,  Springall,  Roupall,  and  Fleetword  may  carry  a  lesson 
with  them ;  but  better  by  far  that  that  lesson  should  never  be 
learned  from  familiarity  with  such  characters,  even  in  imagination. 
Against  the  introduction  of  such  a  personage  as  Fleetword,  we 
more  especially  and  strongly  object,  for  reasons  of  which  the 
Author  must  be  well  aware.  It  is  merely  because  we  acquit  her 
of  any  irreligious  intention^  that  we  refrain  from  emplo}ring 
stronger  terms  of  reprobation.  The  example  of  the  Author  of 
"  Tales  of  my  Landlord  ^,  is  no  apology.  Nor  can  we  allow  any 
force  in  the  plea,  that  such  ideal  characters  have  an  historic  verity, 
and  are  true  to  the  costume  of  the  age.  That  obsolete  costume, 
it  must  be  remembered,  was  not  at  the  time  so  ridiculous  as  it  now 
appears ;  and  the  selection  of  such  a  character  can  have  no  other 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  F 


42  The  Budcaneer. 

effect^  than  to  cast  ridicule  upon  the  class.  There  have  been 
Tartufles,  and  Mawwonns,  and  Mucklewraths ;  but  this  supplies 
no  extenuation  of  the  unfairness  and  reckless  impiety  which  brings 
them  upon  the  sti^. 

The  majority  ot  Mrs.  Hairs  readers  will  not  trouble  themselves 
with  considerations  of  this  nature ;  and  firom  them,  she  will  hear, 
and  deservedly   as  regards   the  talent  she  has  displayed,   the 

Elaudits  of  success.  We  have  no  wish  to  mingle  with  them  a 
arsher  note ;  and  having  cautioned  our  readers  against  mistaking 
our  critical  testimony  to  the  literary  merit  of  her  performance  for 
unqualified  commendation,  we  shall  proceed  to  give  some  fturther 
account  of  its  subject-matter  and  execution. 

The  following  dialogue  will  introduce  our  readers  to  the 
Buccaneer  and  one  of  the  principal  personages  in  the  tale,  and 
will  indicate  the  basis  of  the  plot. 

'  Sir  Robert  Cecil  was  standing,  or  rather  leaning,  with  folded  arms, 
against  a  column  of  the  dark  marble  chimney-piece,  which,  enriched 
by  various  carving  and  mouldings,  rose  nearly  to  the  ceiling.  The 
Baronet's  hair,  of  mingled  grey  and  black,  had  been  cropped  accord- 
ing to  the  approved  fashion  of  the  time  ;  so  that  his  features  had  not 
the  advantage  of  either  shadow  or  relief  from  the  most  beautiful  of 
nature's  ornaments.  He  might  have  been  a  few  years  older  or  younger 
than  the  sailor  who  had  just  entered  ;  but  his  figure  seemed  weak  and 
')ending  as  a  willow-wand,  as  he  moved  slowly  round  to  receive  his 
risiter.  The  usually  polite  expression  of  his  countenance  deepened 
nto  the  insidious,  and  a  faint  smile  rested  for  a  moment  on  his  lip. 
This  outward  show  of  welcome  contrasted  strangely  with  the  visible 
tremor  that  agitated  his  fiume :  he  did  not  sp^k ;  either  from  in- 
ability to  coin  an  appropriate  sentence,  or  the  more  subtle  motive  of 
waiting  until  the  commimication  of  the  stranger  was  first  made. 

'  After  a  lengthened  pause,  during  which  Dalton  slowly  advanced^ 
80  as  to  stand  opposite  Sir  Robert  Cecil,  he  commenced  the  conversa- 
tion, without  any  of  that  show  of  courtesy  which  the  knowledge  of 
their  relative  situations  might  have  called  tor :  even  his  cap  was  unre- 
moved. 

' ''  I  am  sorry.  Sir  Robert^  to  have  come  at  such  a  time ;  nor  would 
I  now  remain,  were  it  not  that  my  business " 

'  "  I  am  not  aware,"  interrupted  the  Baronet,  "  of  any  matters  of 
'  business '  pending  between  us.  I  imagine,  on  reflection,  you  will 
find  that  all  such  have  been  long  since  concluded.  If  there  is  any 
way,  indeed,  in  which  I  can  oblige  you,  for  the  sake  of  an  old  ser- 
vant  " 

'  "  Servant!"  in  his  turn  interrupted  Dalton,  with  emphasis ;  "  we 
have  been  companions.  Sir  Robert — companions  in  more  than  one  act ; 
and,  by  the  dark  heavens  above  us,  will  be  so  in  another — if  neces- 
sary." 

'  The  haughty  Baronet  writhed  under  this  familiarity ;  yet  was 
there  an  expression  of  triumphant  quietude  in  his  eye,  as  if  he 
despised  the  insinuation  of  the  seaman.     ^'I  think,  considering  all 


The  Buccaneer.  43 

things^  you  have  been  pretty  well  paid  for  such  acts.  Master  Dalton ; 
I  have  never  taken  any  man's  labour  for  nothing." 

'  ''  Labour ! "  again  echoed  the  sailor ;  <'  labour  may  be  paid  for, 
but  what  can  stand  in  lieu  of  innocence,  purity  of  heart,  and  rectitude 
of  conduct?" 

'  "  Gold — which  you  have  had,  in  all  its  gorgeous  and  glowing 
abundance." 

*  "  'Twon't  do,"  retorted  the  other,  in  a  painfully  subdued  tone ; 
''  there  is  much  it  cannot  purchase.  Am  I  not  at  this  moment  a  banned 
and  a  blighted  man — scouted  alike  from  the  board  of  the  profligate 
Cavalier,  and  the  psalm-singing  Puritan  of  this  most  change-loving 
oountry  ?  And  one  day  or  another,  I  may  be  hung  up  at  the  yard- 
arm  of  a  Commonwealth — Heaven  bless  the  mark  ! — a  Commonwealth 
cruiser  ! — or  scare  crows  from  a  gibbet  off  Sheemess  or  Queen  borough ; 
or  be  made  an  example  of  for  some  act  of  piracy  committed  on  the 
high  seas!" 

'  "  But  why  commit  such  acts  ?  You  have  wherewithal  to  live 
respectably — quietly." 

'  "  Quietly!"  repeated  the  Skipper;  "look  ye.  Master— I  crave 
your  pardon — Sir  Kobert  Cecil ;  as  soon  could  one  of  Mother  Carey's 
chickens  mount  a  hen-roost,  or  bring  up  a  brood  of  lubberly  turkeys, 
as  I,  Hugh  Dalton,  master  and  owner  of  the  good  brigantine,  that  sits 
the  waters  like  a  swan,  and  cuts  them  like  an  arrow — live  quietly, 
quietly  on  shore !  Santa  Maria !  have  I  not  panted  under  the  hot  sun 
of  the  Caribbees  ?  Have  I  not  closed  my  ears  to  the  cry  of  mercy  ? 
Have  I  not  sacked,  and  sunk,  and  burnt  without  acknowledging  claim 
or  country  ?  Has  not  the  mother  clasped  her  child  more  closely  to 
her  bosom  at  the  mention  of  my  name  ?  In  one  word,  for  years  mive 
I  not  been  a  Buccanksr  ?  Ajid  yet  you  talk  to  me  of  quietness ! — 
Sir,  Sir,  the  soul  so  steeped  in  sin  nas  but  two  resources — madness,  or 
the  grave :  the  last  even  I  shrink  from ;  so  give  me  war,  war,  and  its 
insanity." 

'  "  Cannot  you  learn  to  fear  the  Lord,  and  trade  as  an  honest 
man  ?  " 

'  Dalton  cast  a  look  of  such  mingled  scorn  and  contempt  on  his  com- 
panion, that  a  deep  red  colour  mounted  to  his  cheek  as  he  repeated^ 
''  Yes  !  I  ask,  cannot  you  trade  as  an  honest  man  ?  " 

'  "  No  !  d n  trade :  and  I'm  not  honest,"  he  replied  fiercely. 

'  **  May  I  b^  you  briefly  to  explain  the  object  of  your  visit  ?  said 
the  Baronet  at  last,  after  a  perplexing  pause,  during  which  the  arms 
of  the  Buccaneer  were  folded  on  his  breast,  and  his  restless  and  vigi- 
lant eyes  wandered  round  the  apartment,  flashing  with  an  indefinable 
expression  when  they  encountered  the  blue  retreating  (Nrbs  of  Sir  Ro- 
bert. 

'  "  This,  then :  I  require  a  free  pardon  from  Old  NoU,  not  only  for 
myself,  but  for  my  crew.  The  brave  who  would  have  died,  shall  live 
with  me.  As  a  return  for  his  Highness's  civility,  I  wiU  give  up  all 
free  trade,  and  take  the  command  of  a  frigate,  if  it  so  please  hinu" ' 

'  '^  One  word  more.  The  Protector's  plans  render  it  impracticable 
£ir  me  to  continue  as  I  have  done  on  the  seas.     I  know  that  I  am  a 

F  2 


44  The  Buccaneer. 

marked  man,  and  unless  something  be  determined  on,  and  speedily,  I 
shall  be  exposed  to  that  ignominy  which,  for  my  child's  sake,  I  would 
avoid.  Dcm't  talk  to  me  of  impossibilities :  you  can  obtain  the  pardon 
I  desire  ;  and,  in  one  word.  Sir  Robert  Cecil,  you  must ! " 

'  Sir  Robert  shook  his  head. 

*  "  At  your  pleasure,  then,  at  your  pleasure  ;  but  at  your  peril  also. 
Mark  me  !  I  am  not  one  to  be  thrown  overboard  and  make  no  struggle. 
I  am  not  a  baby  to  be  strangled  ^\'ithout  crying.  If  I  perish,  fucts 
shall  arise  from  my  ^rave, — ay,  if  I  were  sunk  a  thousand  fathoms  in 

my  own  blue  sea, — racts  that  would You  may  well  tremble  and 

turn  pale !  The  secret  is  still  in  our  keeping.  Only  remember^  I 
fall  not  singly."  '—Vol.  I.  pp.  22—29. 

The  next  chapter  introduces  us  to  a  death-bed  scene,  which  is 
touchingly  described.  Before  she  expires,  Lady  Cecil  extorts 
from  Sir  Robert  a  promise,  that  he  will  not  compel  their  daughter 
Constance,  the  heroine  of  the  tale,  to  wed  Sir  Willmott  Burrell,  to 
whom  she  has  been  in  early  life  contracted.  Cecil  Place,  the 
scene  of  these  transactions,  is  picturesquely  described. 

'  It  was  situated  on  the  slope  of  the  hill,  leading  to  the  old  monas- 
tery of  Minster.  Although  nothing  now  exists  except  the  church,  a 
few  broken  walls,  and  a  modernized  house,  formed  out  of  one  of  the 
principal  entrances  to  what  was  once  an  extensive  range  of  monastic 
buildings ;  yet,  at  the  time  of  which  we  treat,  the  ruins  of  the  nun- 
nery, founded  by  Sexburga,  the  widow  of  Ercombert,  king  of  Kent, 
extended  down  the  rising  ground,  presenting  many  picturesque  points 
of  view  from  the  small  but  highly-cultivated  pleasure-grounds  of  Cecil 
Place.  Nothing  could  be  more  beautiful  tlian  the  prospect  from  a 
rude  terrace  which  had  been  the  favourite  walk  of  Lady  Cecil.  The 
small  luxuriant  hills,  folding  one  over  the  other,  and  terminating  in 
the  most  exquisite  valleys  and  bosky  glades  that  the  imagination  can 
conceive — the  rich  mixture  of  pasture  and  meadow  land — the  Downs, 
stretching  to  King's  Ferry,  whitened  by  thousands  of  sheep,  whose 
bleating  and  whose  bells  made  the  isle  musical, — while  beyond,  the 
narrow  Swale,  widening  into  the  open  sea,  shone  like  a  silver  girdle 
in  the  rays  of  the  glorious  sun, — were  objects  indeed  delightful  to 
gaze  upon. 

'  Although,  during  the  Protectorate,  some  pains  had  been  taken  to 
render  Sheerness,  then  a  very  inconsiderable  village,  a  place  of  strength 
and  safety,  and  the  ancient  castle  of  Queenborough  had  been  pulled 
down  by  the  Parliamentarians,  as  deficient  in  strength  and  utility,  no 
one  visiting  only  the  southern  and  western  parts  of  the  island  could 
for  a  moment  imagine  that  the  interior  contained  spots  of  such  posi- 
tive and  cultivatea  beauty. 

'  It  was  yet  early,  when  Constantia  Cecil,  accompanied  by  a  female 
friend,  entered  her  favourite  flower-garden  by  a  private  door,  and 
strolled  towards  a  small  Gothic  temple  overshadowed  by  wide-spread- 
ing oaks,  which,  sheltered  by  the  surrounding  hills,  had  numbered 
more  than  a  century  of  unscathed  and  undiminished  beauty,  and  had 
as  yet  escaped  the  rude  pruning  of  the  woodman's  axe.  The  morning 
habit  of  the  noble  Constance  fitted  tightly  to  the  throat,  where  it  was 


The  Buccajieer.  45 

terminated  by  a  full  niff  of  starched  muslin ;  and  the  waist  w&s  en- 
circled by  a  wide  band  of  black  crape,  from  which  the  drapery  de- 
scended in  massive  folds  to  her  feet.  She  pressed  the  soft  green  turf 
with  a  more  measured  step  than  was  her  wont^  as  if  the  body  shared 
the  mind's  sad  heaviness.  Her  head  was  uncovered,  save  that,  as  she 
passed  into  the  garden,  she  had  carelessly  thrown  on  a  veil  of  black 
mnslin,  through  which  her  bright  hair  shone  with  the  lustre  and  rich- 
ness of  the  finest  satin :  her  throat  and  forehead  appeared  most  daz- 
zlingly  white  in  contrast  with  her  sable  dress. 

'  Tne  lady  by  whom  she  was  accompanied,  was  not  so  tall,  and  of  a 
much  slighter  form ;  her  limbs  delicately  moulded,  and  her  features 
more  attractive  than  beautiful.  There  was  that  about  her  whole  de- 
meanour which  is  expressively  termed  coquetry,  not  the  coquetry  of 
action,  but  of  feeling :  her  eyes  were  dark  ana  brilliant,  her  mouth 
full  and  pouting ;  and  the  nose  was  only  saved  from  vulgarity  by  that 
turn,  to  describe  which  we  are  compelled  to  use  a  foreign  term — it  was 
un  peu  relroussS :  her  complexion  was  of  a  clear  olive,  through  which 
the  blood  glowed  warmly  whenever  called  to  her  cheek  by  any  par- 
ticular emotion.  The  dress  she  wore,  without  being  gay,  was  costly : 
the  full  skirt  of  crimson  grogram  descended  not  so  low  as  to  prevent 
her  small  and  beautifully  turned  ancles  from  being  distinctly  seen,  and 
the  cardinal  of  wrought  purple  velvet,  which  had  been  hastily  flung 
over  her  shoulders,  was  lined  and  bordered  with  the  finest  ermine. 
Nor  did  the  contrast  between  the  ladies  end  here  :  the  full  and  rich- 
toned  voice  of  Constance  Cecil  was  the  perfection  of  harmony,  while 
the  light  and  gay  speech  of  her  companion  might  be  called  melody — 
the  sweet  playful  melody  of  an  untaught  bird.' — Vol.  I.  pp.  77 — oO. 

This  last  personage  is  Lady  Frances  Cromwell,  the  Protector's 
youngest  daughter,  afterwards  Lady  Rich,  to  whom  Prince 
Charles  (afterwards  Charles  II.)  is  reported  to  have  offered  hia 
royal  hand.  Her  character,  warm,  impetuous,  gay,  and  affectionate, 
is  well  conceived,  and  serves  as  a  side  light  to  the  sombre  parts  of 
the  story.  The  Sir  Willmott  Burrell  to  whom  Constance  has  been 
contracted,  is  a  villain  of  the  deepest  grain  and  of  ruined  fortune, 
who,  to  escape  from  his  embarrassments,  is  anxious  to  press  his 
marriage  with  the  heiress  of  the  house  of  Cecil.  Having  got 
possession  of  Sir  Robertas  secret,  his  guilty  implication  in  the 
murder  of  his  elder  brother,  the  crafly  villain  first  makes  use  of  it 
to  work  upon  the  father'^s  fears,  and  then,  by  disclosing  the 
horrible  fact  to  Constance,  wrings  from  her  eventually  a  promise  to 
become  his  bride  within  a  week,  as  the  only  security  of  her  father^s 
honour.  The  interview  between  Sir  Robert  and  his  daughter,  in 
which  the  latter  obtains  the  dreadful  confirmation  of  the  charge, 
is  very  touchingly — we  cannot  say  whether  it  is  naturally  de- 
scribed. At  this  juncture,  the  friend  and  companion  of  her  youth, 
after  a  long  and  mysterious  absence  from  his  native  country,  re- 
appears under  a  disguised  name; — ^becomes  a  visiter  at  Cecil 
Place ; — ^is  recognized  by  Constance,  though  by  her  alone ; — and 
receives  at  the  same  time  the  assurance  of  her  regard,  and  the  in- 


46  The  Bficcaneer. 

timation  of  her  approaching  miserable  nuptials.     By  the  time 
we  reach  the  end  of  the  first  volume,  the  plot  becomes  too  thickly 
interwoven  for  us  to  be  able,  without  entering  too  much  into  de^ 
tails,  to  give  an  outline  of  the  story.    A  certain  ambiguous  Major 
Wellmore  becomes  a  very  prominent  actor  in  the  ensuing  scenes ; 
and  his  ubiquitous  movements,  mysterious  influence,  and  imposing 
air  keep  wonder  and  curiosity  alive,  till  the  reader  begins  to  sus- 
pect his  real  station.     Actuated  by  the  warm  interest  he  takes  in 
the  welfare  of  Constance,  and  suspecting  foul  play  in  the  conduct 
of  Burrell,   he   takes   eflectual  measures   to  defeat   his    plans. 
Burrell,  however,  has  succeeded  in  dragging  his  intended  bride  to 
the  altar,  in  spite «of  the  strong  indications  of  incipient  insanity  in 
poor  Sir  Robert,  the  effects  of  too  powerful  and  maddening  ex- 
citement ;  and  Constance  is  ready,  but  habited  in  deep  mourning ; 
•^-notwithstanding  which,  the  ceremony  has  commenced,  when 
some  interruption  is  occasioned  by  Sir  Robert'^s  insisting  that 
Constance^s  maid  Barbara,  who  is  dressed  in  white,  must  be  the 
lady  bride ;  and  amid  the  confusion,  a  pistol  is  fired  by  an  in* 
truder,  intended  for  the  real  bride,  but  which  Barbara  receives. 
The  assassin  is  a  beautiful  Jewess,  whom  Burrell  has  married  while 
abroad,  and  deserted,  and  who  thus  seeks  to  revenge  herself  upon 
her  innocent  rival.      At  this  moment,  a  detachment  of  horse 
arrive,  with  orders  to  conduct  Sir  Willmott  a  prisoner  to  Hampton 
Court.     Barbara,  though  supposed  to  be  mortally  wounded,  i^ 
carried  off  by  her  father,  the  Buccaneer,  who  has  been  on  the 
watch.     In  the  mean  time,  the  father  of  the  Jewess,  a  learned 
Rabbi  favoured  by  Cromwell,  has  followed  his  daughter  to  Eng. 
land,  supposing  her  to  have  fled  with  her  seducer ;  and  having 
discovered  Biurreirs  treachery,  he  applies  for  redress  to  the  Pro* 
tector.     Mrs.  Hall  has  bestowed  great  care  and  skill  upon  the 
portrait  of  that  extraordinary  man.     The  Robin  referred  to  in 
the  following  peep  into  the  Presence-chamber,  has  attended  Ma- 
nasseh  Ben   Israel  as  his  servant.     He  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the 
Buccaneer^s  party,  and  plays  an  important  part  in  the  story. 

'  It  was  impossible  to  look  upon  him  without  feeling  that  he  was  a 
man  bom  to  command  and  to  overthrow.  His  countenance^  though 
swollen  and  reddish^  was  marked  and  powerful,  and  his  presence  as 
lofty  and  majestic  as  if  he  had  of  right  inherited  the  throne  of  Eng- 
lano.  However  his  enemies  might  have  jested  upon  his  personal  ap* 
pearance^  and  mocked  the  ruddiness  of  his  countenance,  and  the  un- 
seemly wart  that  disfigured  his  broad,  lofty,  and  projecting  brow,  they 
must  nave  all  trembled  under  the  thunder  of  his  frown :  it  was  ter« 
rific,  dark,  and  scowling,  lighted  up  occasionally  by  the  flashing  of 
his  fierce  grey  eye,  but  only  so  as  to  show  its  power  still  the  more. 
His  dress  consisted  of  a  doublet  and  vest  of  black  velvet,  carefully 
put  on,  and  of  a  handsome  ^hion  ;  a  deep  collar  of  the  finest  linen, 
embroidered  and  edged  with  lace,  turned  over  his  vest,  and  displayed 
to  great  advantage  his  firm  and  remarkably    muscular  throat.     Hio 


The  Buccaneer.  47 

hair,  which  seemed  bj  that  b'gfat  as  dark  and  luxuriant  as  it  had  been 
in  his  younger  age,  fell  at  either  side,  but  was  completely  combed  or 
pushed  off  his  massive  forehead.  He  looked,  in  very  truth,  a  most 
strongman — strong  in  mind,  strong  in  body,  strong  in  battle,  strong 
in  council.  There  was  no  weakness  about  him,  except  that  engen- 
dered by  a  warm  imagination  acting  in  concert  with  the  deepest  ve* 
Deration,  and  which  rendered  him  ever  and  unhappily  prone  to  super- 
stitious dreamings. 

'  When  Robin  entered,  there  was  no  one  in  the  room  but  the  Lord 
Bn^ill,  Manasseh  Ben  Israel,  and  a  little  girl.  I^Iy  Lord  Broghill^ 
who  was  one  of  the  Protector's  cabinet  counsellors,  had  been  sent  for 
£rotn  Ireland  to  go  to  Scotland,  and  be  President  of  the  Council  there; 
but  soon  wearying  of  the  place,  had  just  returned  to  London^  and 

Kted  down  immediately  to  Hampton  Court : — he  was  bidding  the 
tector  good  night,  and  that  with  much  servility.  The  presence  of 
Robin  was  yet  unnoticed,  save  by  the  Jew.  Before  his  Lordship  had 
left  the  chamber,  even  as  his  foot  was  on  the  threshold^  Cromwell 
called  him  back. 

'  "  My  Lord  Broghill." 

'  The  cabinet  counsellor  bowed  and  returned. 

'  "  I  forgot  to  mention,  there  is  a  great  friend  of  yours  in  London.** 

'  *'  Indeed !     Please  your  Highness,  who  is  it  ?  " 

*  "  My  Lord  of  Orm'ond,"  rqilied  the  Protector.  *^  He  came  to 
town  on  Wednesday  last,  about  three  of  the  clock,  upon  a  small  grey 
mule,  and  wearing  a  brown  but  ill-made  and  shaboy  doublet.  I^ 
lodges  at  White  Friars,  number — something  or  other ;  but  you,  my 
Lord,"  he  added,  pointedly,  "  will  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  him 
out*** 

'  ^  I  call  the  Lord  to  witness,"  said  Bn^hill,  casting  up  his  eyes 
after  the  most  approved  Puritan  fashion,  '^  I  call  the  Lord  to  witness, 
I  know  nothing  of  it !  " 

'  Cromwell  gathered  his  eyebrows,  and  looked  upon  him  for  a  mo- 
ment with  a  look  which  made  the  proud  Lord  tremble ;  then  sending 
forth  a  species  of  hissing  noise  from  between  his  teeth,  sounding  like 
a  prolonged  hish — ^h — h — h.  "  Nevertheless,  I  think  you  may  as  well 
tell  him  that  I  know  it.     Good  night,  my  Lord,  good  night !  " 

Vol.  II.  pp.  256—258. 

In  a  subsequent  chapter,  the  fair  Novelist  ventures  upon  an 
historical  essay  on  the  Protector'^s  character,  in  which  is  shewn  a 
great  deal  of  candid  discrimination. 

'  Hb  Court  was  a  rare  example  of  irreproachable  conduct,  from 
whidi  all  debauchery  and  immorality  were  banished ;  while,  such  was 
his  deep  and  intimate,  though  mysterious  acquaintance  with  every 
occurrence  throughout  the  Commonwealth,  its  subjects  had  the  certainty 
of  knowing  that,  sooner  or  later,  whatever  crimes  they  committed 
would  of  a  surety  reach  the  ear  of  the  Protector.  His  natural  abilities 
must  always  have  been  of  the  highest  order,  though  in  the  early  part 
•f  his  career  he  discovered  none  of  those  extraordinary  talents  that 
afiterwards  gained  him  so  much  applause,  and  worked  so  upon  the 


46  The  Buccaneer. 

affections  of  the  hearers  and  standers  by.  His  mind  may  be  compared 
to  one  of  those  valuable  manuscripts  tnat  had  long  been  rolled  up  and 
kept  hidden  from  vulgar  eyes,  but  which  exhibits  some  new  proof  of 
wisdom  at  each  unfolding.  It  has  been  well  said  by  a  philosopher, 
whose  equal  the  world  has  not  known  since  his  day,  ''  that  a  place 
showeth  the  man."  Of  a  certainty  Cromwell  had  no  sooner  possessed 
the  opportunity  so  to  do,  than  he  showed  to  the  whole  world  that  he 
was  destined  to  govern.  ''  Some  men  achieve  greatness,  some  men  are 
born  to  greatness,  and  some  have  greatness  thrust  upon  them."  With 
Cromwell,  greatness  was  achieved.  He  was  the  architect  of  his  own 
fortunes,  o\ving  little  to,  what  is  called,  "  chance,"  less  to  patronage, 
and  still  less  to  crime,  if  we  except  the  one  sad  blot  upon  the  page  of 
his  own  history,  as  connected  \vith  that  of  his  country.  There  appears 
in  his  character  but  a  small  portion  of  that  which  is  evil,  blended  with 
much  that  is  undoubtedly  good.  Although  his  public  speeches  were, 
for  the  most  part,  ambiguous — leaving  others  to  pick  out  his  meaning 
— or,  more  frequently  still, ,  having  no  meaning  to  pick  out — being 
words,  words,  words — stniitg  of  mouldy  sentences.  Scriptural  phrases, 
foolish  exclamations,  andf  such  like ;  yet,  when  necessary,  he  showed 
that  he  could  sufficiently  command  his  style,  delivering  himself  with 
so  much  energy,  pith,  propriety,  and  strength  of  expression,  that  it 
was  commonly  said  of  him  under  such  circumstances,  "  every  word  he 
spoke  was  a  thing."  But  the  strong^t  indication  of  his  vast  abilities 
was,  the  extraordinary  tact  with  which  he  entered  into,  dissected,  and 
scrutinized  the  nature  of  human  kind.  No  man  ever  dived  into  the 
manners  and  minds  of  those  around  him  with  greater  penetration,  or 
more  rapidly  discovered  their  natural  talents  and  tempers.  If  he 
chanced  to  hear  of  a  person  fit  for  his  purpose,  whether  as  a  minister, 
a  soldier,  an  artizan,  a  preacher,  or  a  spy, — ^no  matter  how  previously 
obscure,  he  sent  for  him  forthwith,  and  employed  him  in  tbe  way  in 
which  he  could  be  made  most  useful,  and  answer  best  the  purpose  of 
his  employer.  Upon  this  most  admirable  system,  (a  system  in  which, 
unhappily,  he  has  had  but  few  imitators  among  modem  statesmen,) 
depenaed  in  a  great  degree  his  success.  His  devotion  has  been  sneered 
at ;  but  it  has  never  been  proved  to  have  been  insincere.  With  how 
much  more  show  of  justice  may  we  consider  it  to  have  been  founded 
upon  a  solid  and  upright  basis,  when  we  recollect  that  his  whole  ont- 
wieurd  deportment  spoke  its  truth.  Those  who  decry  him  as  a  fanatic, 
ought  to  bethink  themselves  that  religion  was  the  chivalry  of  the  age 
in  which  he  lived.  Had  Cromwell  been  bom  a  few  centuries  earlier, 
he  would  have  headed  the  Crusades,  with  as  much  bravery,  and  far 
better  results,  than  our  noble-hearted,  but  wTong-headed  ''  Coeur  de 
Lion.'*  It  was  no  great  compliment  that  was  passed  on  him  by  tiie 
French  minister,  when  he  called  the  Protector  ''  the  first  captain  of 
the  age."  His  courage  and  conduct  in  the  field  were  undoubtedly 
admirable :  he  had  a  dignity  of  soul  which  the  greatest  dangers  and 
difficulties  rather  animated  than  discouraged,  and  his  discipline  and 

fovernment  of  the  army,  in  all  respects,  was  the  wonder  of  tne  world, 
t  was  no  diminution  of  this  part  of  his  character,  that  he  was  wary  in 
his  conduct,  and  that,  after  he  was  declared  Protector,  he  wore  a  coat* 


The  Buccaneer,  .4& 

w-mail  concealed  beneath  his  dress.  Less  caution  than  he  made  use 
of,  in  the  place  he  held,  and  surrounded  as  he  was  by  secret  and  open 
•enemies,  would  have  deserved  the  name  of  negligence.  As  to  his 
political  sincerity,  which  many  think  had  nothing  to  do  with  his 
religious  opinions,  he  was,  to  the  full,  as  honest  as  the  first  or  second 
Charles. 

'  Of  a  truth,  that  same  sincerity,  it  would  appear,  is  no  kingly 
virtue !  Cromwell  loved  justice  as  he  loved  his  own  life,  and  wherever 
he  was  compelled  to  be  arbitrary,  it  was  only  where  his  authority  was 
eontroverted,  which,  as  things  then  were,  it  was  not  only  right  to 
establish  for  his  own  sake,  but  for  the  peace  and  security  of  the 
country  over  whose  proud  destinies  he  had  been  called  to  govern. 
*'  The  dignity  of  the  crown,"  to  quote  his  own  words,  "  was  upon  the 
account  of  the  nation,  of  which  the  king  was  only  the  representative 
head,  and  therefore,  the  nation  being  still  the  same,  he  would  have 
the  same  respect  paid  to  his  ministers  as  if  he  had  been  a  king.'* 
England  ought  to  write  the  name  of  Cromwell  in  letters  of  gold,  when 
«he  remembers  that,  within  a  space  of  four  or  five  years,  he  avenged 
iJl  the  insults  that  had  been  lavishly  flung  upon  her  by  every  country 
in  Europe  throughout  a  long,  disastrous,  and  most  perplexing  civil 
war.  Crioriously  did  he  retrieve  the  credit  that  had  been  mouldering 
and  decaying  during  two  weak  and  discreditable  reigns  of  nearly  fifty 
years'  continuance— gloriously  did  he  establish  and  extend  his  country's 
authority  and  influence  in  remote  nations — gloriously  acquire  the  real 
mastery  of  the  British  Channel — gloriously  send  forth  fleets  that  went 
and  conquered,  and  never  sullied  the  union-flag  by  an  act  of  dishonour 
or  dissimulation ! 

'  Not  a  single  Briton,  during  the  Protectorate,  but  could  demand 
and  receive  either  reparation  or  revenge  for  injury,  whether  it  came 
from  Prance,  from  Spain,  from  any  open  foe  or  treacherous  ally; — not 
an  oppressed  foreigner  claimed  his  protection  but  it  was  immediately 
and  effectually  granted.  Were  things  to  be  compared  to  this  in  the 
fdgn  of  either  Charles  ?*     Vol.  III.  pp.  19—24. 

In  the  presence  of  Cromwell,  Burrell  is  confronted  with  the 
Rabbi ;  and  the  Protector^s  skilful  examination  of  the  parties  is 
very  liappily  conducted.  The  investigation  is  adjourned  to  Cecil 
Place ;  and  there,  according  to  dramatic  rules,  all  the  actors  are 
brought  together  on  the  stage, — ^perhaps  somewhat  too  dramatically. 
It  is,  however,  all  veiy  cleverly  managed.  The  issue  is,  that 
tlie  Protector  orders  tne  ceremony  of  marriage  to  be  repeated 
between  Sir  Willmott  and  the  fair  Jewess ;  while  Constance  is 
repaid  for  her  sufferings  and  her  filial  heroism,  by  finding  every 
obstacle  removed  to  her  union  with  her  brave  cousin  Walter. 
For  Burrell,  however,  a  dreadful  fate  is  reserved.  He  escapes 
from  custody,  and  takes  shelter  in  the  GulFs  Nest,  the  secret 
baunt  of  the  Buccaneers,  which  has  been  cleared  out  and  deserted 
pr^aratory  to  its  being  blown  up.  At  the  approach  of  Cromwell'*s 
troops,  who  come  to  search  the  place,  the  train  is  fired,  and 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  ii 


50  The  Buccaneer. 

*  In  a  moment^  the  report  as  of  a  thousand  cannon  tbondered  throngli 
the  air ;  and  fragments  of  clay>  rock>  and  shingle  fell,  thick  as  hail  and 
heavy  as  millstones  all  around.     Immediately  after,  a  piercing  cry  for 
aid  burst  upon  their  ear,  and  spread  over  land  and  water*   "  *  •  *  *  " 
exclaimed  Springall :   "  it  is  not  possible  that  any  human  creature 
could  have  been  within  the  place ! "   And  he  stretched  himself  forward, 
and  looked  up  to  where  the  cry  was  uttered.     The  young  man,  whose 
locks  were  then  light  as  the  golden  beams  of  the  sun,  and  whose  step 
was  as  free  as  that  of  the  mountain-roe,  lived  to  be  very  old,  and  his 
hair  grew  white,  and  his  free  step  crippled,  before  death  claimed  his 
subject ;  he  was  moreover  one  acquainted  in  after-years  with  much 
strife  and  toil,  and  earned  honour,  and  wealth,  and  distinction ;  but 
often  has  he  declared  that  never  had  he  witnessed  any  thing  which  so 
appalled  his  soul  as  the  sight  he  beheld  on  that  remembered  morning. 
He  seized  Roupall's  arm  with  convulsive  energy,  and  dragged  him 
forward,  heedless  of  the  storm  of  clay  and  stones  that  was  still  pelting 
around  them.     Wherever  the  train  had  fired,   the  Crag  had   been 
thrown  out ;  and  as  there  were  but  few  combustibles  within  its  holes, 
and  the  gay  sunlight  had  shorn  the  flames  of  their  brightness,  the  objects 
that  struck  the  gaze  of  the  lookers  on,  were  the  dark  hollows  vomiting 
forth  columns  of  black  and  noisome  smoke,  streaked  with  a  murW  red. 

'  As  the  fire  made  its  way  according  to  the  direction  of  the  meandering 
powder,  which  Dal  ton  himself  had  laid  in  case  of  surprise,  the  earth 
above  reeled  and  shook,  and  sent  forth  groans,  like  those  of  troubled 
Nature,  when  a  rude  earthquake  bursts  asunder  what  the  Almighty 
united  with  such  matchless  skill.  The  lower  train  that  Springall  fired 
had  cast  forth,  amongst  rocks  and  stones,  the  mass  of  day  m  which  was 
the  loop-hole  through  which  Fleetword  had  looked  out  upon  the  wide  sea. 
Within  the  chasm  thus  created  was  the  figure  of  a  bvine  man.  He 
stood  there  with  uplifted  hands,  lacking  courage  to  advance;  fosr 
beneath,  the  wreathed  smoke  and  dim  hot  fume  of  the  consuming  fire 
told  him  of  certain  death ;  unable  to  retreat, — for  the  insidious  flame 
had  already  destroyed  the  door  which  Roupall  had  failed  to  move,  and 
danced,  like  a  fiend  at  play  with  destruction,  from  rafter  to  rafter,  and 
beam  to  beam,  of  the  devoted  place. 

'  "  Hah !"  exclaimed  the  reckless  rover,  with  a  calmness  which  at 
the  moment  made  his  young  companion  upbraid  him  as  the  most  mer- 
ciless of  human  kind ;  "  Hah !  I  wonder  how  he  got  there  ?  I  heard 
that  somehow  or  other  he  was  in  limbo  at  Cecil  Place ;  he  wanted  to 
make  an  escape,  I  suppose,  and  so  took  to  the  old  earth  !  Ay,  ay, 
look  your  last  on  the  bright  sun,  that's  laughing  at  man  and  man*s 
doings — you'll  never  mount  to  where  it  shines,  I  trow." 

'  Sir  Willmott  Burrell — for  Roupall  had  not  been  deceived  either 
as  to  the  identity  of  the  person,  or  tne  motive  which  led  him  to  seek 
refuge  in  the  Gull's  Nest — had  effected  an  almost  miraculous  escape, 
considering  how  closely  he  was  guarded,  a  few  hours  before,  and 
secreted  himself  in  the  very  chamber  where  he  had  left  poor  Fleetword 
to  starvation,  little  imagining  that  he  was  standing  on  the  threshold  of 
retributive  justice !  He  had  caught  at  flight,  even  so  far,  as  a  sort  of 
reprieve ;  and  was  forming  plans  of  future  villainy,  at  the  very  moment 


TAc  Buccaneer,  5l 

4he  traiu  was  fired.  God  have  mercy  on  all  sinners !  it  is  fearfol  to 
be  cut  off  without  time  for  repentance.  Sir  Willmott  had  none.  In 
the  flower  of  manhood,  with  a  vigorous  body  and  a  skilful  mind,  he 
bad  delighted  in  evil,  and  panted  for  the  destruction  of  his  fellows. 
His  face,  upon  which  the  glare  of  the  garish  fire  danced  in  derision  of 
bis  agony,  was  distorted,  and  terrible  to  look  upon :  brief  as  was  the 
space  allotted  to  him,  each  moment  seemed  a  year  of  torture.  As  the 
flames  rose  and  encircled  their  victim,  his  cries  were  so  dreadful,  that 
Springall  pressed  his  hands  to  his  ears,  and  buried  his  face  in  the 
sand  ;  but  Roupall  looked  on  to  the  last,  thinking  aloud  his  own  rude, 
but  energetic  thoughts.' 

'  Cromwell  had  a  curiosity  to  inspect  the  resort  of  the  Buccaneers ; 
tmd,  perfectly  unconscious  of  Sir  Willmott's  escape,  was  petrified  with 
horror  and  astonishment  on  seeing  him  under  such  appalling  circum- 
«tances — the  tumbling  crags — the  blazing  fire — the  dense  smoke, 
mounting  like  pillars  of  blackness  into  the  clear  and  happy  morning* 
sky — and  above  all,  the  agonized,  scorching  figure  of  toe  wretched 
Knight,  writhing  in  the  last  throes  of  mortal  agony ! 

'  "  The  Lord  h^ve  mercy  on  his  soul !"  exclaimed  Fleetword^ 
"  Pray,  pray  !"  he  continued,  elevating  his  voice,  and  hoping,  with  a 
kindliness  of  feeling  which  Sir  Willmott  had  little  right  to  expect, 
that  he  might  be  instrumental  in  directing  the  wretched  man's 
attention  to  a  future  state.  '^  Pray !  death  is  before  you,  and  you 
cannot  wrestle  with  it !  Pray !  even  at  the  eleventh  hour  I  Pray  1— - 
and  we  will  pray  with  you!" 

*  The  Preacher  uncovered ;  the  Protector  and  his  soldiers  stood  also 
bareheaded  on  the  diff.  But  not  upon  the  prayers  of  brave  and  honest 
soldiers  was  the  spirit  of  active  villainy  ana  cowardly  vice  to  ascend  to 
the  judgment-seat  of  the  Almighty — before  one  word  of  supplication 
was  spoken,  a  column  of  flame  enwreathed  the  remaining  portion  of 
the  crag — ^it  was  of  such  exceeding  brightness  that  the  soldiers  blinked 
thereat ;  and  when  its  glare  was  past,  they  looked  upon  a  smouldering 
heap  at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs.  It  was  the  only  monument  of  '^  the 
GuU's  Nest  Crag;"  and  the  half-consumed  body  of  Sir  Willmott 
Burrell  was  crushed  beneath  it.'     Vol.  III.  pp.  276 — 282. 

This  is  vivid  and  powerful  description;   and   the  volui    a 
abound  with  it.     But  the  most  remarkable  and  distin    i      ing 
feature  of  the  story  is,  the  dramatic  skill  with  which  the  doa 
are  conceived,  developed,  and  grouped  in  pictu        le  combi 
and  contrast     Indeed,  in  the  rapidity  of  the  a     on,  t 
succession  of  incident,  the  well  managed  shifting  ot  t 
acting,  rather  than  narration  of  the  story,  it  partakes        t 
racter  of  a  drama,  as  much  as  of  a  tale.     From  first  to  1; 
interest  is  never  suspended ;  there  is  no  languor  in  the  com] 
— ^no  prosing  or  spinning  out  of  chapters.    The  female  cha 
are  portrayed  with  a  feminine  skill,  the  want 
most  obvious  defect  in  the  Tales  of  the  A 
On  the  other  hand,  too  much  of  woman  is  at 
characters  depicted  in  these  volumes.     T 


59  The  Buccaneer^ 

the  story,  but  none,  we  think,  of  a  very  prominent  character. 
Among  those  faults,  we  do  not  rank  the  various  improbabilitiea 
comprised  in  the  story ;  first,  because  real  life  is  scarcely  less  full 
of  improbabilities  than  romance,  and  secondly,  because  the  art  of 
the  writer  is  often  most  happily  displayed  in  throwing  a  plausible 
air  over  unlikely  incidents,  and  in  working  them  into  tne  story, 
so  as  to  make  them  seem  probable.  In  a  work  of  fiction,  pro- 
baUlities  and  improbabilities  being  equallv  true^  the  only  difference 
between  them  consists  in  the  degree  of  skill  which  is  shewn  in 
the  introduction  and  management  of  them. 

Many  admirable  sentiments  occur  in  these  volumes ;  and  we 
are  convinced  that  the  Writer  has  meant  to  convey,  in  some 
instances,  religious  instruction ;  but  where  this  is  not  a  writer^s 
main  object,  it  is  seldom  either  happily  or  efficiently  accomplished.. 
As  a  moral  writer,  we  must  place  Mrs.  Hall,  if  somewhat  abore 
her  "fiiend  Miss  Mitford,  yet,  much  below  Miss  Jewsbury, 
although,  in  another  way,  she  has  displayed  talents  equal,  at  leasts 
to  both.^  We  make  this  remark,  not  for  the  sake  of  comparison, 
but  of  distinction.  Works  of  a  totally  different  description  are 
often  confounded  under  a  common  name.  The  "  Three  Histories  ***" 
of  Miss  Jewsbury  are  all  truth,  though  a  fiction.  The  Buccaneer,, 
though  containing  a  vein  of  historic  and  moral  truth,  is  pure 
romance.  The  reader  of  Mrs.  HalPs  work  cannot  close  the 
volumes  without  forming  a  very  high  estimate  of  the  powers  of 
the  author.  On  reading  Miss  Jewsbury'^s  tales,  we  are  less  struck 
with  the  genius  than  with  the  knowledge  of  the  writer, — less  with 
her  power  of  describing,  than  with  her  skill  in  analysing.  She 
brings  before  us,  not  scenes  so  much  as  things,  and  is  more 
philosophical  than  dramatic.  The  female  Writer  of  the  day  with 
whom  Mrs.  Hall  may  be  most  fairly  compared,  and  whom  she 
may  be  thought  to  have  followed,  is  Miss  Lawrance.  The  latter, 
in  some  fragments  of  a  story  contributed  to  "  Friendship's  Offer^ 
ing,^  has  ventured  upon  the  same  historic  ground,  and  indicated 
talents  capable  of  producing  greater  things.  Both  ladies  have 
given  portraits  of  Cromwell  and  of  Cromwell's  still  more  illustrious 
Latin  secretary ;  and  our  readers  may  compare  with  the  extract 
given  in  our  November  Number  (p.  452),  the  following  portrait. 

'  Behold  him  as  he  sits^  within  the  tapestried  chamber  at  Hampton 
Court !  'Tis  the  same  room  in  which  the  Protector  sat  last  night ; 
but  how  changed  its  aspect,  just  by  the  presence  of  that  one  man  f 
How  different  is  the  feeling  with  which  we  regard  men  of  great  energy 
and  men  of  great  talent.  Milton,  blind— blind,  powerless  as  to  his 
actions,  overwhelming  in  his  genius,  grasping  all  things  and  seeing 
into  them,  not  with  the  eyes  of  flesh,  but  those  of  mind,  altering  the 
very  atmosphere  wherein  we  move,  stilling  the  air  that  we  may  hear 
bit  oracles  f 

^  The  room,  is  one  of  most  curious  fashion,  and  hung  with  the  oldest 


The  Buccaneer.  53 

tapestry  in  England^  lighted  on  either  side  by  long  and  narrow 
windows,  that  are  even  now  furnished  as  in  the  time  of  the  old  Cardinal 
who  built  them.  On  the  low  seat  formed  within  the  wall  the  Poet 
sat.  Who  would  suffer  a  thought  of  the  ambitious  Wolsey  or  the 
sensiud  Henry  to  intrude  where  once  they  held  gay  revels  and  much 
minstrelsy  in  their  most  tyrant  pastimes  ?  Cromwell,  the  great  Pro- 
tector, even  Cromwell  is  forgotten  in  the  more  glorious  company  of  one 
both  poor  and  blind !  He  sat,  as  we  describe  him,  within  the  em- 
brasure of  the  narrow  window ;  the  heat  and  brightness  of  the  summer 
sun  came  full  upon  his  head,  the  hair  upon  which  was  full  and  rich 
as  ever,  parted  in  the  centre,  and  falling  in  waving  curls  quite  to  his 
shoulders ;  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  vacancy,  but  their  expression  was  as 
if  commnning  with  some  secret  spirit,  enlivening  thus  his  darkness ; 
he  seemed  not  old  nor  young,  for  the  lines  upon  his  face  could  not  be 
considered  wrinkles — tokens  were  they  of  care  and  thought— such  care 
and  such  thoi^t  as  Milton  might  know  and  feel.  He  was  habited 
with  extraordinary  exactness ;  his  linen  of  the  finest  quality,  and  his 
vest  and  doublet  put  on  with  an  evident  attention  to  even  minute  ap- 
pearance. Hb  hands  of  transparent  whiteness  were  clasped,  as  if  he 
were  attending  to  some  particular  discourse ;  he  was  alone  in  that  vast 
chamber, — yet  not  alone,  for  God  was  with  him, — not  in  outward  form, 
but  in  inwajrd  spirit.  It  was  the  Sabbath-day,  and  ever  observed  in 
the  Protector's  family  with  respect  and  reverence.  The  morning- 
meeting  was  over,  ana  Cromwell  in  his  closet,  '^  wrestling,"  as  he  was 
wcmt  to  term  it,  "  with  sin."  Silence  reigned  through  all  the  courts 
— ^that  due  and  reverend  silence  which  betokens  thoughtfiilneas,  and 
attention  to  one  of  the  Almighty's  first  commands — "  Keep  holy  the 
sabbath-day,"  given  when  he  ordained  that  man  should  rest  from  his 
labours  in  commemoration  that  he  himself  set  an  example  of  repose 
after  calling  the  broad  earth  into  existence  and  beauty.  The  poet  sat 
bat  for  a  little  time  in  that  wide  silence ;  yet  who  would  not  give  a 
large  portion  of  their  every-day  existence  to  have  looked  on  him  for 
those  brief  moments,  moments  which  for  their  full  feeling  might  play 
the  part  of  years  in  our  life's  calendar  ?  Blessed  holy  time ! — when 
we  can  look  on  genius,  and  catch  the  gems  that  fall  from  its  lips  \ 
Yet  Milton  spoke  not, — he  only  looked;  and  still  his  looks  were 
heavenward — turned  towards  that  Heaven  from  whence  they  caught 
their  inspiration.  He  heard  the  sound  of  coming  footsteps,  and  loving 
quiet  on  that  holy  day,  withdrew  to  his  own  chamber.  How  empty 
now  appeared  the  tapestried  hall !  as  when  some  great  eclipse  shuts  to 
the  golden  portals  of  the  sun,  and  steeps  the  earth  in  darkness !' 

Vol.  III.  pp.  32—35. 

In  the  correct  finishing  of  her  portraits  and  pictures,  Miss 
Lawrance,  we  think,  excels.  The  graphic  talent  of  Mrs.  Hall  is 
displayed  in  a  bolder  use  of  the  pencil:  if  we  may  use  the 
metaphor,  she  paints  in  oil.  But  we  have  said  more  than  enough 
to  intimate  our  opinion  of  the  sort  and  degree  of  literary  merit 
displayed  in  these  volumes,  and  now  leave  our  readers  to  frame 
the  verdict. 


(    54    ) 

» 

Art.  IV.  The  Year  of  Liberation :  a  Journal  of  the  Defence  of  HaQ1< 
burgh  against  the  French  Army  under  Marshal  Davoust  in  1813: 
with  Sketches  of  the  Battles  of  Lutzen^  Bautzen^  &c.  &c.  In  two 
Volumes.     12mo.     pp.  656.     Price  18^.     London^  1832. 

TTNDER  a  title  that  does  not  seem  to  promise  much,  we  have 
in  these  volumes  a  melange' oi  the  most  brilliant  and  enter- 
taining descrintion.  The  ostensible  subject,  though  an  interest- 
ing episode  of  '  the  war  of  liberation  "*,  would,  in  ordinary  hands, 
have  afforded  scanty  materials  for  a  chapter ;  but  give  this  Writer 
any  subject,  and  it  is  evident  that  he  could  work  it  up  into  any 
prescribed  form  or  number  of  volumes.  At  the  touch  of  his  p^i- 
cil,  the  most  common-place  and  unsightly  objects  become  pics 
turesque.  He  has  the  strange  art  of  making  an  old  story  new,  of 
imparting  to  the  fresh  coinage  of  his  fancy  the  semblance  of  his- 
tory, and  of  making  veritable  history  seem  half  romance  and  haff 
a  joke.  By  help  of  scenic  description,  inexhaustible  anecdote, 
portraiture  of  character,  politics,  battles,  poetry,  romance,  the 
grave  and  the  gay,  the  lively  and  the  severe,  he  contrives  to  keep 
the  attention  in  a  state  of  constant  and  pleasureable  exdtement; 
so  that,  whatever  be  the  road  he  chooses  to  travel,  the  reader 
thinks  only  of  the  pleasant  company  he  finds  himself  in.  He  has 
endowed  a  mere  incident  with  the  opulence  that  would  ha^e  suf- 
ficed to  furnish  out  a  whole  history  of  the  war.  But  the  most  re- 
markable feature  of  the  work  is,  tnat,  although  the  Writer^s  s^le 
is  too  vivacious  to  be  sentimental,  too  sportive  for  grave  philo- 
sophy, and  you  scarcely  know  when  he  is  quite  in  earnest,  there 
lies  concealed  beneath  this  ofF-hand,  trifling  manner  of  dealing 
with  things,  a  depth  of  observation  and  a  seriousness  of  opinion 
and  purpose,  which  impart  to  some  of  his  occasional  observations 
an  axiomatic  force  and  practical  value,  redeeming  both  the  book 
and  its  author  from  the  class  to  which  a  superficial  glance  might 
have  referred  them.  The  charm  of  the  work  is  its  style,  which 
sparkles  with  wit,  or  flashes  with  eloquence,  from  beginning  to 
end ;  but  the  retrospect  of  events  which  the  work  comprises,  is 
adapted  to  be  at  the  present  moment  peculiarly  instructive.  We 
seem  to  be  taken  behind  the  scenes  of  the  great  drama,  and  are 
shewn  the  machinery  of  history. 

The  Author  is  quite  serious  in  his  Preface,  which  contains  the 
moral  of  the  tale.  From  this  war,  ^  the  great  patriotic  war  of 
'  Gei-many  \  eminently  rose,  he  remarks,  *  the  fearful  supremacy 
^  of  Russia,  which  now  threatens  all  independence,  and  the  not 
*  less  fearful  sense  of  popular  power,  which  threatens  all  sovem- 
^  ment ;  the  imbodying  of  the  principles  of  despotism  ana  demo* 
'  crasy,  at  this  hour  arming  for  a  conflict,  which,  whenever  it  ar* 
^  rives,  may  cover  the  world  with  dust  and  ashes.^     Upon  tlttl 


The  Year  of  Liberation,  55 

single'^sentence,  we  could  hang  a  dissertation ;  and  at  some  future 
period,  we  may  favour  our  readers  with  one ;  but  we  must  now 
pass  on. 

'  The  rising  of  the  people  of  Hamburgh  against  the  French  was  one 
of  the  most  interesting  incidents  of  the  war.  The  present  Writer  has 
described  it  as  he  saw  it ;  with  the  opportunities  of  one  on  the  spot^ 
and  the  fresh  impressions  of  the  moment ;  impressions  heightened, 
rather  than  diminished,  by  the  twenty  years  which  have  since  been  in- 
terposed. He  has  found  no  record  of  the  transactions  from  the  native 
pen ;  and  he  has  long  felt  an  allowable  anxiety  that  some  memorial 
should  exist  of  a  public  effort,  which  exhibited  all  the  essential  features 
of  public  virtue.  The  general  aspect  of  German  affairs  at  the  time  will 
be  found  occasionally  observed.' 

The  first  chapter  introduces  us  to  a  groupe  of  characters  on 
board  the  packet,  sketched  with  a  vigour  and  humour  that  just 
stop  short  of  caricature,  and  make  the  week'^s  voyage,  which  lasts 
the  chapter,  not  seem  tedious.  Heliogoland  is  the  subject  of 
Chapter  II.;  and  we  must  insert  the  graphic  description  of  this 
singular  outpost  of  the  Continent. 

*  The  North  Sea  was  angry,  and  a  whole  wilderness  of  immense 
waves,  topped  with  yellow,  bilious-looking  foam,  rolled  furiously 
towards  the  little  half-drowned  island  which  continually  escaped  from 
us,  and  seemed  as  if  it  were  swimming  away  for  its  life.  But,  rough 
as  the  gale  was,  it  was  luckily  in  our  favour.  We  were  hurled  along 
like  the  foam  itself,  and,  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours,  we  were  abreast 
of  the  beach.  The  scene  there  was  a  very  curious  and  peculiar  one. 
All  seemed  on  the  smallest  scale,  and  might  have  been  sketched  for 
Gulliver's  first  view  of  Lilliput.  Heligoland  is  probably  the  smallest 
spot  to  which  human  life,  adhesive  as  it  is,  ever  thought  of  clinging.  .  .  . 
Like  every  other  nook  of  this  over-travelled  world,  it  has  long  since  lost 
its  ancient  spell ;  but  it  was  then  a  novelty,  and  an  extremely  charac- 
teristic one.  Paley  should  have  put  it  into  his  chapter  of  "  Con- 
trivances." It  was  impossible  to  look  upon  it  without  recognizing  the 
onginal  design  of  nature  for  the  intercourse  of  nations ;  the  Plymouth 
Breakwater,  or  the  Eddystone  lighthouse,  is  not  a  clearer  evidence  of 
intention.  Though  it  has  stood  from  the  creation  or  the  deluge,  a 
solitary  point  in  the  deep,  the  playground  of  the  seamew  and  the 
porpoise  for  some  thousand  years,  it  was  yet  as  obviously  placed  for 
the  uses  of  human  kind,  when  the  low  shores  of  Holstein  ana  Hanover 
should  be  peopled,  as  if  it  had  been  piled  by  a  Telford  or  a  Rennie 
before  our  eyes.  Standing  about  twenty-five  miles  from  the  mouth  of 
the  £lbe,  it  is  8e9a|||gtaMB'i|^^  for  ships  to  make 

the  land,  wiUiou^P^^^^  -^^  ^^ifc  )|ini    (In    iiliiili 

shore  of  Germany'^ 
and  many  a  stotf^ 
with  which 
their  more 


56  The  Year  of  Liberation. 

name  of  "  Holy  Island/'  there  may  be  found  some  reference  to  th^ 
sailor's  gratitude  for  his  preservation.  But  things  had  now,  in  the 
American  phrase,  prodigiously  progressed ;  for  the  pedestal  was  not 
merely  topped  witn  a  huge  light-house,  glittering  with  reflectors  and 
all  the  improvements  of  modem  art,  but  it  was  enjoying  that  peculiar 
prosperity  which,  according  to  the  proverb,  in  the  worst  of  times,  fidls 
somewhere ;  and  being  the  first  mark  of  all  vessels  bound  for  the  Elbe, 
and  just  out  of  the  reach  of  Napoleon's  talons  besides,  it  had  become  a 
grand  depot  of  commerce ;  or,  to  use  a  less  dignified,  but  truer  ap- 
pellation, of  smuggling  of  the  most  barefaced  kind.  £very  spot  was 
crowded  with  clerks  and  agents  firom  England  and  Germany ;  many  of 
them  not  improbably  agents  of  more  important  concerns  than  the 
barter  of  sugar  and  coffee ;  for  those  were  times  when  every  feeling  of 
right,  seconded  by  every  dexterity  of  man,  was  concerting  the  fiEdl  of 
the  great  enemy  ;  and  Heligoland  was,  perhaps,  more  nearly  connected 
vrith  Vienna,  and  even  with  Paris,  than  half  the  cabinets  alive. 

'  But  all  before  us,  was  the  merchant  and  his  merchandize,  bales  of 
Manchester  manufactures  and  bags  of  West  India  produce,  and  among 
them  the  busy  Englishman  stalking  about,  and  the  spectacled  German 
following  him,  and  each  apparently  too  well  employed  to  think  of  the 
fates  of  empires. 

'  From  our  deck,  the  beach,  which  looked  scarcely  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  wide ;  and  the  rock  itself,  which  did  not  seem  half  the 
number  of  feet  high,  gave  the  thickest  picture  of  human  swarming, 
that  I  had  ever  seen  ;  the  whole  was  black,  restless,  and  buzzing  with 
life;  it  had  the  look  of  an  immense  beehive.'  pp.  20 — 24, 

*  It  blows  a  storm ;  and  every  wave  that  rolls  in  upon  the  little 
beach  threatens  to  wreck  our  whole  navy  at  its  anchors.  The  man 
who  ''  pitied  idle  gentlemen  upon  a  rainy  day,"  should  have  added  to 
the  rainy  day,  confinement  upon  an  island  a  mile  round,  as  flat  as  a 
bowling-green,  and  with  nothing  upon  it  but  a  gathering  of  crazy  huts, 
shaking  in  every  limb,  groaning  in  the  wind  as  if  they  were  groaning 
their  last,  and  making  it  a  doubtful  point,  whether  it  were  wiser  to 
take  the  chance  of  being  swept  into  the  sea  with  them,  or  without 
them. 

'  But  the  sea  is  magnificent :  I  now  feel,  for  the  first  time,  the  full 
&rce  of  the  words,  "  the  wilderness  of  waves."  As  far  as  the  eye  can 
reach,  the  whole  horizon  is  one  moving  mass  of  billows,  rolling,  foam- 
ing, and  thundering  on  each  other;  sheets  of  spray  suddenly  caught  up 
and  whirling  to  vast  distances,  like  the  banners  of  the  host  of  waters. 
Here  are  no  chains  of  rock  to  fret  the  waves,  no  projections  and  pro- 
montories to  break  their  mass,  no  distractions  of  the  eye  by  the  mixture 
of  land  and  water :  all  is  ocean,  deep,  dreary,  and  illimitable.  With 
such  an  object  before  the  poets  of  the  north,  well  might  they  fill  their 
imaginations  with  shapes  of  desolate  power.  Among  the  clouds  which 
come  continually  rolling  along  the  horizon,  and  almost  touching  t^e 
waters.  It  would  be  no  difiicult  fancy  even  now,  to  conceive  some  of  the 
old  pirate  fleets,  spreading  sail  from  the  Baltic,  and  sweeping  down, 
with  the  lightning  for  their  pilot,  and  the  winds  for  their  trump,  to 
the  spoil  of  Europe.     All  is  wild,  melancholy,  and  grand.' 

Vol.1,   pp.  36-38. 


The  Year  of  Liberation.  STl 

We  must  not  stop  to  discuss  the  point,  how  far  Napoleon'^s 
downfall  may  be  ascribed  to  the  Berlin  and  Milan  decrees.  The 
Writer  asserts,  that  their  first  effect  was,  the  ruin  of  his  own  re- 
sources. The  blow  aimed  at  England,  fell  on  Germany,  which 
had  hitherto  fed  the  French  exchequer,  and  instantly  cut  off  the 
conduit  through  which  the  German  revenues  had  flowed  into 
France.     A  more  formidable  result  was,  that  ^  the  whole  mind  of 

*  the  Continent'*  was  at  once  exasperated  against  him. 

'  Napoleon  might  have  galloped  his  charger  over  Europe,  making 
her  castles  the  dust  of  its  hoofs  to  the  last  of  his  days^  but  for  his  for- 

Eing  the  spell  wbich^  more  than  cannon  or  bayonet,  fought  for  the 
ublic;  the  '*  Guerre  anx  palais,  paix  aux  cabanes".  He  had  now 
n  on  the  cabanes,  and  from  that  moment  he  was  undone.  The 
nations^  lone  discontented  with  their  sovereigns,  had  seen  him  tramp- 
ling them  down,  and  never  moved  a  muscle.  But,  when  they  found 
his  heel  pressing  on  the  neck  of  every  man  alike,  they  sprang  up  and 
cmshed  nim.' 

In  the  dreary  six  years  which  intervened  between  ^  the  fall  of 

*  Germany  ^  in  the  battle  of  Jena  in  1806,  and  its  recovery  at 
the  battle  of  Leipsig,  Germany  was  gradually  sinking  into  pau- 
perism. 

'  Her  higher  orders  were  driven  to  despair  by  perpetual  insult  and 
robbery ;  her  lower  were  compelled  to  criminal  courses  by  the  mere 
pressure  of  hunger.  The  system  of  smuggling  had  become  the  only 
resource  of  trade;  and  a  more  pernicious  and  demoralizing  system 
never  was  offered  to  tempt  the  natural  evil  of  man.  Fraud,  on  a 
greater  or  lesser  scale,  was  rapidly  infecting  all  commercial  transac- 
tions :  every  thing  bore  a  fictitious  name  in  the  invoice ;  coffee  passed 
the  customs  as  horse-beans,  sugar  as  starch,  and  pepper  was  alternately 
.pease,  rape-seed,  and  a  hundred  other  things.  The  quantity  of  oaths, 
forgeries,  and  bribery  that  made  this  traffic  pass  down  the  consciences 
of  the  Douaniers,  may  be  imagined.  All  was  mystification,  which 
yet  mystified  no  one;  hungry  artifice  openly  arrayed  against  bloated 
plunder.' 

But  the  crisis  was  ripening.  The  effects  of  this  system  on  the 
burghers  of  Hamburg,  and  the  people  at  large,  are  described  by 
the  iVriter  with  the  distinctness  of  a  close  and  shrewd  observer. 
For  some  time  before  the  insurrection,  the  French  garrison  in  that 
city  felt  themselves  to  be  in  the  midst  of  a  hostile  population. 
But,  in  place  of  entering  into  the  historic  details,  whicn  will  be 
beat  learned  from  the  narrative,  we  shall  transcribe  the  Writer^s 
description  of  this  ancient  Gothic  Hanse-town. 

'  The  first  aspect  of  this  famous  old  city  gives  the  idea  of  opulence, 
as  opulence  displayed  itself  in  the  ancient  days  of  Germany,  it  is  not 
a  French  display,  nor  an  Italian :  it  is  the  gloomy,  solid,  and  almost 
severe  visage  of  the  old  Teutonic.     Hamburg  strikes  the  eye  as  a 

VOLt  IX. N.S.  H 


68  The  Year  of  Liberation, 

place  where  much  money  was  made  and  much  expended,  and  yet  ^bere 
It  was  both  made  and  expended  by  merchants  and  those  merchants  re- 
publicans  Some  of  the  public  buildings  are  historic;  and  if 

they  are  superabundant  in  neither  grace  nor  majesty,  yet  they  occasion- 
ally have  the  look  of  times,  when  the  Hamburg  merchant  could  wield 
the  bat^leaxe  as  well  as  the  pen,  and  buckle  on  his  iron  coat  against 
Swede  and  Dane.  The  front  of  the  senate  house,  heavy  and  huge^  it 
a  gallery  of  civic  heroes,  all  bronzed  and  gilded  in  full  costume,  an^ 
enveloped  in  wig  and  regimentals,  ''  as  a  general  ought  to  be ;"  the 
long  line  of  trading  gallantry  from  Charlemagne,  or  Nimrod.  If  Com- 
merce ever  sat  for  the  portrait  of  Bellona,  those  champions  of  the  desk 
might  circle  her  car,  as  the  attendant  genii. 

'  But,  to  my  sorrow,  Hamburg  is  all  pav^;  the  streets  were,  of  coarse 
universal  mire  after  the  day*s  rain ;  as  in  sunshine  they  are  universal 
dust ;  and  the  wonders  of  the  city  were  not  to  be  seen,  without  ha^ 
zarding  something  little  short  of  suffocation  in  public  mud.  It  is  odd 
enough,  that  this  universal  offence  in  the  continental  cities  should  arise 
not  more  horn  laziness,  than  luxury.  "  Thank  Heaven,"  said  the 
French  abb6,  when  he  found  himself  on  the  flags  of  London,  "  a  pe- 
destrian's bones  are  worth  something  here ;"  and  this  was  the  whole 
secret.  In  Paris,  the  pedestrian's  bones  were  worth  nothing;  for 
every  man  who  was  worth  any  thing  rode  in  his  carriage.  The  Ham- 
burgers had  been  under  the  same  circumstances ;  the  time  was,  when 
they  were  not  compelled  to  know  whether  their  streets  were  earth  or 
water ;  for  such  was  the  opulence  of  the  city  at  the  close  of  the  last 
century,  that  there  was  scarcely  a  shopkeeper's  family  without  an 
equipage  and  a  country-house.  The  ladies  of  the  firm  seldom  came 
into  Hamburg  but  to  purchase  some  finery  of  the  day ;  the  gentlemen 
came  in  but  to  spend  an  hour  behind  the  counter,  hold  open  their 
hands  for  the  golden  shower  that  was  literally  pouring  upon  them  from 
every  corner  of  the  earth,  and  then  drive  back  to  their  villas,  and 
luxuriate  for  the  rest  of  the  day  among  their  lilies  and  roses.  In  fkct, 
the  life  of  the  great  English  merchant  now  was  the  life  of  the  little 
Hamburg  trader  then.  The  French  reformed  this  thoroughly;  the 
marshals  first  cut  down  the  opulence  by  a  series  of  contributions, 
levied  with  the  sabre ;  Napoleon  gave  the  second  blow  by  his  "  decrees;"* 
but  the  final  and  the  fatal  blow  was  given  by  letting  loose  the  swarm 
of  French  employes  upon  the  unfortunate  city.  The  rough  men  of  the 
sabre  trampled  down  the  field ;  but  it  was  the  prefeis,  the  collectors, 
and  the  custom-house  oflicers,  that  played  the  part  of  the  locust,  and 
nipped  every  leaf  and  sprout  of  commerce  out  of  the  soil. 

'  The  landscape  round  the  city  is  Dutch, — flat,  quiet,  and  green, 
sprinkled  with  houses,  looking  not  unlike  those  which  sprinkled  the 
suburb  fields  of  London  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago ;  low,  yet  some* 
times  spreading  over  a  considerable  extent,  sometimes  showy,  but,  in 
most  instances,  ample  and  convenient.  Hamburg  itself  is  an  inland 
Amsterdam,  a  huge  mass  of  buildings,  imbedded  in  a  marsh  on  the 
side  of  a  lazy^  river,  and  cut  through  in  all  directions  with  sullen  ca- 
nals. The  citizens  pronounce  it  a  Venice,  and  a  Venice  it  is,  if  we 
divest  the  Adriatic  queen  of  her  palaces,  her  squares,  her  skies,  and 
her  recollections.'     Vol  I.  pp.  61 — 63. 


The  Year  of  Liberation.  59 

•  ••••• 

'  I  have  just  returned^  after  a  ramble  among  the  villages.  The 
iiKvther  city  looks  best  from  the  outside.  The  villages  are  little,  wild, 
odd  things,  with  a  primitive  look,  yet  with  some  kind  of  gaiety.  They 
put  us  in  mind  of  a  group  of  young  Quakers,  with  the  l3ood  of  youth 
contending  against  the  inveteracy  of  the  drab ;  or  the  unwilling  for- 
mality of  a  family  circle  in  the  presence  of  the  venerable  and  forbid- 
ding grandmother  of  the  household.  The  brown  roofs  and  ponderous 
steeples  of  the  city  are  seen  from  every  dell  and  thicket  for  miles 
round,  looking  gravity,  and  frowning  down  the  light  propensities  of 
the  rising  generation  of  villas. 

*  The  contrast,  to  one  returning  from  the  country  into  the  sudden 
doom  of  the  streets,  renders  all  their  evils  still  more  unpalatable. 
Whatever  better  times,  or  another  generation,  may  make  of  the  city, 
it  is  now  dark,  intricate,  and  miry,  to  the  full  republican  measure. 
Republicanism  may  have  its  advantages,  but  it  never  paves,  sweeps, 
lights,  or  whitewashes ;  the  sovereign  people  feels  the  value  of  its  in- 
dependence too  profoundly  to  suffer  any  intrusion  of  authority  in  the 
shape  of  public  comfort ;  cleanliness  is  a  breach  of  privilege,  and  the 
<n^er  to  hang  up  two  lamps  where  but  one  twinklea  before,  would  be 
an  insult  to  the  genius  of  the  constitution  altogether  unheard  of.  The 
result  is,  that  there  is  not  a  stone  in  the  streets  of  Hamburg  which 
has  not  been  suffered  to  settle  into  its  place  by  the  laws  of  gravity ; 
not  a  spout  which  does  not  irrigate  the  passer  by,  and  seem  to  be 
employed  for  that  sole  purpose ;  not  a  crevice  which  does  not  widen 
into  a  pool ;  not  a  pool  which  does  not  widen  into  a  gulph ;  and,  in  a 
huge  city  of  ravines  of  lanes,  and  cut  up  with  foggy  canals,  not  a  light 
much  exceeding  that  of  a  moderate  cigar.  The  senate  know  all  this, 
and  are  alternately  laughed  at  and  libelled  for  not  smoothing  their 
pavements,  stopping  up  their  pools,  and  lighting  their  streets.  But 
what  can  any  citizen-senate  on  earth  do  more  than  groan  over  the 
oommonwealUi ;  draw  up  magnanimous  resolutions,  and  throw  them 
into  the  fire,  through  fear  of  offending  the  freeborn  sordidness  and  pa- 
triotic putrescence  of  the  state ;  and  leave  the  rest  to  destiny  and  the 
general  conflagration. 

*  I  honour  and  esteem  the  spirit  of  Hamburg  in  its  resistance  to 
the  French,  but  all  my  respect  cannot  disguise  ^m  all  my  senses, 
that  the  city  would  be  infinitely  the  better  for  a  good,  active  bombard- 
ment. But  an  earthquake  would  be  the  true  benefactor.  Any  thing 
would  be  eood  that  would  bore,  batter,  scatter,  and  prostrate  some  fur- 
longs of  tnose  streets,  that,  wild  and  winding  as  the  shafts  of  a  coal 
mine,  seem  nearly  as  dark,  narrow,  subterraneous,  and  unwholesome. 
After  having  so  lately  renewed  my  recollections  of  ^esh  air  and  open 
sky,  I  feel  doubly  incarcerated  among  those  endless  piles  of  old  houses, 
like  so  many  German  barons,  bowing  round  me  with  stiff  decrepitude. 
The  city  has  some  memorable  old  buildings,  but  the  republican  spirit, 
which  rorgets  every  thing  but  its  crabbed  rights  and  peevish  privileges, 
leaves  them  to  the  common  career  of  men  and  buildi  '  **»ere 
they  stand  or  fall,  proud  with  established  squalidi 

the  sacred  dirt  of  ages.'     Vol.  II.  pp.  217 — 20. 

*  Still  the  city  is  a  fine  old  gloomy  relic,  of 


60  The  Year  of  Liberation. 

wben,  whatever  might  be  the  wickednesses  of  this  world  among  the 
satrapies  of  the  Continent,  there  was  a  spirit  of  grandeur,  Gothic  as  it 
was,  moving  among  mankind.  I  never  tread  my  swampy  way  under 
the  shadow  of  those  fierce  old  buildings,  that  seem  to  scowl  over  the 
degenerate  race  of  modern  traffickers ;  without  doing  homage  to  the 
phantoms  of  sovereign  commerce  which  still  linger  round  the  oomptoirs, 
like  ghosts  round  the  spot  they  loved.'     Vol.  II.  pp.  221. 

And  now  for  a  few  sketches  of  the  worthy  natives,  whose  ^  fair, 

*  flat,  piscatory  visage  ^  affords  so  striking  a  contrast  to  ^  the  bi- 

*  lious  pug-dog  physiognomy  of  the  Gaul  \ 

*  It  is  impossible  to  refuse  the  Germans  all  the  praise  due  to  good- 
xiature,  kindness  of  manner  to  strangers,  and  especially  to  general 
intelligence.  £very  one  reads,  almost  every  one  writes,  and  altogether 
there  is  more  of  the  active  power  of  education  visible  in  general  society, 
than,  perhaps,  in  any  other  country  of  the  world.  But  they  have  two 
d^sagr&mensy  for  nothing  but  the  word  can  express  the  thing,  too  slight 
to  be  called  vice,  and  too  vexatious  to  be  entitled  to  tolerance ;  which 
very  considerably  undo  the  spell  of  German  society ;  and  those  are — 
smoking,  and  stocking  knitting. 

'  A  few  mornings  since,  I  visited  a  man  of  letters.  I  found  him  in 
his  study,  entrenched  up  to  the  chin  in  books  and  papers,  and 
surrounded  with  all  the  printed  wisdom  of  his  country,  in  bindings  that 
had  evidently  known  a  good  deal  of  the  *'  midnight  lamp."  The 
nocturnd  versaie  manu,  versaie  diurn/l,  was  in  every  thing.  In  short, 
all  was  as  it  ought  to  be  in  the  sacellum  of  literature.  The  master  of 
the  shrine  was  a  very  intelligent  person,  1  believe  a  very  learned,  and 
certainly  a  very  industrious  one;  for  in  a  list  of  his  daily  pursuits, 
which  he  showed  to  me,  there  was  scarcely  an  hour  out  of  the  twenty- 
four,  which  had  not  its  appropriate  study.  But  the  genius  of  tobacco- 
smoke  was  there,  writing  his  death  warrant,  as  l^bly  as  my  learned 
friend  ever  wrote  a  line  of  high  Dutch.  His  pipe  was  in  his  hand ; 
his  goblet  of  eau  sucre,  its  never-iailing,  and  almost  equally  sickening, 
companion,  was  beside  him  ;  and  with  a  lack-lustre  eye,  and  a  chedc 
as  yellow  as  the  yellowest  page  he  %vas  poring  over,  was  this  able  and 
valuable  man  sadly  smoking  himself  into  the  other  world. 
.  *  His  chamber,  his  books,  his  clothes,  every  thing  about  him,  were 
tobacco;  and  I  left  the  interview  in  sorrow,  and  half  suffocated. 
Argument  in  this  distemper  is  but  loss  of  time.  No  logic  can  pierce 
the  integument  that  smoking  wraps  round  the  brain.  Nothing  will 
ever  be  effectual,  except  a  general  fusillade  of  the  criminals,  and  a 
cordon  prohibitory  of  the  entrance  of  this  foXsl  gift  of  America  for  the 
mystification  of  the  continental  soul.  The  propensity  too  is  declared 
by  the  physicians  to  be  actually  one  of  the  most  efficient  causes  of  the 
Uerman  tendency  to  diseases  of  the  lungs.  In  point  of  expense,  its 
waste  is  enormous.  In  Hamburg  alone,  50,000  boxes  of  cigars  have 
been  consumed  in  a  year ;  each  box  costing  about  3/.  sterling :  150,000^ 
puffed  into  the  air ! 

'  And  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  even  this  is  but  a  part  of  the 
expense ;  the  cigar  adorning  the  lip  only  of  the  better  order,  and  even 


The  Year  of  Liberation,  61 

•mong  those,  only  of  the  young ;  the  mature  generally  abjuring  this 
small  Tsnity,  and  blowing  away  with  the  mighty  meerschaum  of  their 
ancestors.  This  plague,  like  the  Egyptian  plague  of  frogs,  is  felt  every 
where,  and  in  every  thing.  It  poisons  the  streets,  the  chibs,  and  the 
coffee-hooses ;  furniture,  clothes,  equipage,  person,  are  redolent  of  the 
abomination.  It  makes  even  the  dulness  of  the  newspaper  doubly 
narcotic ;  the  napkin  on  the  table  tells  instantly  that  native  hands  have 
been  over  it ;  every  eatable  and  drinkable,  all  that  can  be  seen,  felt, 
heard,  or  understood,  is  saturated  with  tobacco ;  the  very  air  we  breathe 
is  but  a  conveyance  for  this  poison  into  the  lungs ;  and  every  man, 
woman,  and  child,  rapidly  acquires  the  complexion  of  a  boiled  chicken. 
From  the  hour  of  their  waking,  if  nine-tenths  of  the  population  can 
erer  be  said  to  awake  at  all,  to  the  hour  of  their  lying  down,  which  in 
innumerable  instances  the  peasantry  do  in  their  clothes,  the  pipe  is 
never  ont  of  their  mouths ;  one  mighty  fumigation  reigns,  and  numan 
nature  is  smoke-dried  by  tens  of  thousands  of  square  miles. 

'  But  if  it  be  a  crime  to  shorten  life,  or  extinguish  faculties,  the 
anthority  of  the  chief  German  physiologists  charges  this  custom  with 
effecting  both  in  a  very  remarkable  degree.  They  compute,  that  of 
twenty  deaths  of  men  between  eighteen  and  thirty-five,  ien  originate 
in  the  waste  of  the  constitution  by  smoking.  The  universal  weakness 
of  the  eyes,  which  makes  the  Germans  par  excellence  a  spectacled 
nation,  is  probably  attributed  to  the  same  cause  of  general  nervous 
debilit?.  Tobacco  burns  out  their  blood,  their  teeth,  their  eyes,  and 
their  brains;  turns  their  flesh  into  mummy,  and  their  mind  into 
metaphysics.'    Vol.  I.  pp.  176 — 180. 

'  To  the  eye  accustomed  to  genuine  English  beauty,  the  foreign 
countenance  is  seldom  seen  to  advantage.  The  foreign  brunette  is 
too  dark ;  the  blonde  is  too  light ;  the  Greek  profile,  grand  as  it  is,  is 
too  inanimate ;  and  the  French  favourite  nez  reironss^,  seconded  by  the 
little  restless  brown  eye,  is  too  common-place.  For  the  combination  of 
dignity  and  tenderness,  for  the  noblest  expression  of  mind  and  heart 
together,  the  countenance  of  English  loveliness,  in  its  few  finer  instances, 
is  altogether  without  an  equal  in  the  world. 

'  But  the  Gkrman  females  have  better  claims  than  those  which 
depend  upon  the  exterior;  they  are  a  remarkably  kind-hearted, 
fiuthful,  and  honest-minded  generation.  The  German  ladies,  excepting 
where  they  are  led  away  by  the  tempation  of  French  manners,  vinoicate 
the  character  of  the  sex,  and  fairly  constitute  the  stronghold  of  the 
national  morality.  Even  such  sujierficial  knowledge  of  their  domestic 
life  as  might  lie  open  to  a  stranger,  conveyed  the  impression  of  a 
mixture  of  gentleness  and  goodness,  which  forms  perhaps  the  best 
quality  for  home.  The  ties  of  parent  and'child  certainly  seem  to  owe 
but  little  of  their  acknowledged  closeness,  in  Germany,  to  severity  on 
the  one  side,  or  fear  on  the  other.  The  feature  which  strikes  a  stranger 
most,  is  the  general  prevalence  of  a  simple  familiarity,  perfectly  con- 
sistent with  duty  on  both  sides.  The  aged  head  of  the  house  is  looked 
up  to  mth  something  of  patriarchal  respect,  which  he  returns  by 
something  of  patriarchal  affection.  In  England,  families  suddenly 
break  off,  and  scatter  through  life,  as  if  they  were  blown  up  by  an 
explosion  of  gunpowder :  they  fly  to  all  corners  of  the  world,  never  to 


63  The  Year  of  Liberation, 

reioin ;  but  the  happier  circumstances  of  this  country  fi^uently  allow- 
all  the  branches  of  families  to  settle  near  each  other :  sons  and  daughters^ 
sons-in-law  and  daughters-in-law,  with  their  children  and  their 
children's  children,  come  and  sit  under  the  shelter  of  the  family  vine. 
Circle  spreads  beyond  circle ;  and  the  ancient  father,  sitting  in  the 
centre  of  all,  like  another  Jacob,  with  the  sons  of  Joseph  at  his  knee, 
IS  loved  and  honoured,  rejoices  in  his  grey  hairs  and  fulness  of  years, 
and  in  peace  and  gratitude  prepares  for  the  great  change  that  comes 
to  all;    VoL  I.  pp.  21 7>  218. 

In  genuine  domesticity^  however,  the  Englishman  is  distin- 
guished alike  from  the  pipe-loving  Teutschlandery  the  talk-loving 
Frenchman,  or  the  sun-loving  Italian. 

'  Be  it  known,  that  the  Englishman  is  the  only  inhabitant  of  Europe, 
who,  between  the  hours  of  dinner  and  sleep,  can  stay  at  home.  Be 
the  weather  wild  as  Boreas  and  Eurus  together  ever  made  it,  the  sun« 
loving  Italian  steals  to  his  casino ;  the  Frenchman  rushes  out  into  the 
whirlwind,  to  yawn  for  three  hours  in  the  same  coterie  where  he  has 
duly  yawned  every  night  for  the  last  fifty  years ;  the  Dutchman  finds 
a  moral  impossibility  of  smoking  his  pipe  at  home,  and  goes  to  enjoy 
it  in  the  Harmonic;  the  Spaniard's  lemonade  is  tasteless  unless  he 
can  sip  it  in  the  accustomed  Caffeteria ;  and  the  German's  schnapps 
and  newspaper  cannot  go  down,  except  in  the  Guinguette  atmosphere 
of  brandy,  lamp-oil,  and  the  most  pestilent  tobacco  fiimes  that  ever 
nauseated  the  lungs  of  man. 

'  This  anti-home  propensity  accounts  for  half  the  pheenomena  of 
foreign  life;  for  the  rarity  of  affection  where  it  ought  to  be,  and  the 
universality  of  attachment  where  it  ought  not; — for  the  wretched 
profligacy  of  private  life,  and,  as  a  consequence,  for  a  good  deal  of  the 
very  scandalous  corruption  of  public  ;  for  the  crowding  of  the  theatres, 
the  prosperity  of  the  gaming-tables,  and  the  general  propensity  to 
suicide. 

'  The  Englishman,  on  the  contrary,  can  sit  at  home,  and  bear  to 
look  at  his  wife  and  children,  without  grudging  the  moments  given  to 
either,  as  so  much  lost  to  sentiment,  and  the  billiard  balls.' 

Vol.  I.  pp.  148—150. 

'  The  original  malediction  of  the  foreigner  is  restlessness :  he  lives 
under  an  anathema  of  perpetually  doing  something.  His  Qavem* 
ments,  and  his  nature,  alike  make  him  an  idler, — I  speak  not  of  the 
few  exceptions, — and  the  misery  of  his  idleness  is  to  oe  made  endur- 
able only  by  eternal  trivialities.  The  Gaul  thus  chatters  away  his  un- 
derstanoing ;  the  German  smokes  and  mysticises ;  the  whole  South  of 
Europe  vainly  absorbs  itself  in  sonnetteering,  scandal,  and  macaroni. 
The  Englishman  is  the  only  individual  in  existence,  who  can  sit  still 
when  he  has  nothing  to  do ;  and  hold  his  tongue,  when  he  has  nothing 
to  say ;  and  limitless  praise  be  to  him  for  both.  To  this  pitiful  pro- 
pensity, worthy  only  a  forest  of  baboons,  is  due  the  theatre  and  coffee- 
nouse  haunting  spirit,  that  utterly  un-domesticates  foreign  life ;  a  vast 
quantity  of  the  vice, — for  foreign  life  is  intolerably  vicious;  and  the 
incalculable  waste  of  the  energies,  talents,  and  opportunities  which 
Ptovidenoe  has  given  as  largely  hefe  as  elsewhere,  but  given  in  vain« 


The  Year  of  Liheration.  63 

To  this  18  due  the  opera  and  ballet-fever^  the  frenzy  into  which  a 
dancer  or  a  singer  throws  the  public  for  a  hundred  square  leagues^ 
noble  and  gentle^  prince  and  plebeian ;  all  crowding  for  fifty  nights  to- 
gether, to  see  a  profligate  from  Paris^  who  stands  on  her  toe  half  a 
minute  longer  than  all  other  profligates  from  Paris ;  or  a  singer  from 
Milan  or  Naples^  who  eclipses  all  the  violins,  and  all  the  vices,  of  her 
native  hot-bed.'     Vol.  II.  pp.  301,  2. 

In  our  own  metropolis,  the  theatres  are  comparatively  deserted 
by  the  higher  classes ;  but  the  multiplication  of  clubs  and  club- 
houses, to  say  nothing  of  billiard-rooms,  is,  we  fear,  making  se- 
rious inroads  upon  domesticity  of  character,  and  tmdermining,  in 
many  cases,  domestic  virtue.  Happily,  if  Paris  is  France,  Lon- 
don is  not  England. 

A  chapter  is  devoted  to  the  history  of  the  Hanseatic  League, 
— a  ffrapnic  and  spirited  sketch,  in  the  vivid  colouring  of  romance* 
Chanemagne  is  exalted  into  a  benefactor ;  and  the  Crusades  are 
referred  to  as  having  showered  gold  on  the  north ;  representations 
which  do  not  belong  to  history, — ^but  tant  pi8  pour  lea  faits. 
Next  comes  ^  The  Battle  of  Bautzen  ^  followed  by  a  ^  Tale  of 
the  Generations  of  Napoleon  \  to  which  this  gorgeous  paragraph 
finrms  a  head-piece, — a  pen  and  ink  vignette. 

*  Who  has  not  heard,  read,  written,  or  dreamed  of  the  Bay  of 
Naples  ?  Of  its  morning  sun  showering  it  with  pearls  and  roses,  and 
of  Its  evening  sun  exchanging  them  for  topazes  and  tulips !  Of  its 
being  at  one  time  a  mirror  in  which  Aurora  dresses  her  ringlets,  and 
at  another  a  prodigious  cathedral  window,  stained  with  all  kinds  of 
heavenly  things,  before  which  Phoebus  goes  to  vespers ! ' 

After  perusing  this  tale,  fanciAil,  extravagant,  oriental  in  its 
conception,  dramatic  in  its  execution,  the  dullest  reader  will 
scarcely  be  at  a  loss  to  conjecture  the  name  of  the  Writer,  if  he 
has  not  detected  him  before ;  but  the  following  stanzas,  which  it 
would  be  injustice  to  withhold,  tell  the  secret  still  more  plainly. 
We  will  not,  however,  deprive  our  readers  of  the  pleasure  of 
guessing. 

'  THB   RUSSIAN  BLACK  EAGLE  : 
'  A   NIGHT   VIEW. 

*  The  trumpet  of  the  storm  is  blown,  ' 

The  thunder  wakes  upon  his  throne. 
Through  the  vapours  damp 
The  moon's  sad  lamp 
Seems  lighting  funeral  shrouds ; 
And  a  giant  plume 
Stoops  through  the  eloom 
Of  tte  thousand  rolBng  clouds, 

'  That  head  is  crown'd  with  many  a  ring ! 
I  know  that  fearful  eagle- wing ! 


64  The  Year  of  Liberation. 

Fierce^  broad,  and  black. 

It  hung  on  the  track. 

From  Moscow's  towers  of  flame. 

O'er  hill,  and  plain,  and  tide. 

Chasing  the  homicide. 

Till  France  was  but  a  name. 

*  Thou  eagle-kine !  I  know  thee  well. 
By  the  iron  beak  and  the  deadly  yell. 
It  was  no  forest  prey 

Thou  wentest  forth  to  slay  ; 
Whole  armies  were  thy  food. 
Earth's  crown'd  and  mighty  men : 
Thy  haunt  no  forest-glen. 
But  kingdoms,  slaughter-strewed ! 

'  Dark  spirit  of  the  mystic  North, 
When  sweeps  thy  sullen  pinion  forth, 
Like  a  cloudy  zone : 
What  fated  throne 
Must  sink  in  dust  aeain ! 
Com'st  thou  to  wreak 
Old  vengeance  for  the  Greek, 
Giving  him  blood  to  drink  like  rain  ! 

'  Or  shall  thy  gory  talon  sweep 
O'er  the  pale  Propontic  deep. 
Where  sits  the  Sultan-slave, 
His  throne  beside  his  grave ! 
Gathering  his  vassals  wan ; 
And  with  shrinking  ear. 
Seems  in  each  blast  to  hear 
"  Death  to  the  Ottoman !" 

*  Or  from  thy  tempest-girdled  nest 
On  Caucasus'  eternal  crest. 
Shall  thy  consuming  eyes 
Glance  where  trembling  India  lies. 
Offering  her  jewelled  diadem, 
Another,  to  thy  many-circled  brow ! 
Or  shalt  thou  too  be  low. 

Thy  grandeur  like  the  rest — a  dream ! 

*  Or  shalt  thou  revel  till  the  storm. 
When  the  avenger's  fiery  form 
Bursts  from  his  midnight  skies. 
And  mankind's  trembling  eyes 
See  the  last  thunders  hurlea  ? 
And  thou,  and  thy  wild  horde. 
Are  in  his  hand  the  sword. 

Destroying,  and  destroyed  but  with  the  world ! ' 


1    65    ) 

Art.  V.  1.  Mirabeau's  Letters,  during  his  Residence  in  England; 
with  Anecdotes,  Maxims,  &c  I^w  first  translated  from  the 
Original  Manuscripts.  To  which  is  prefixed,  an  Introductwy 
Notice  on  the  Lite,  Writings,  Conduct,  and  Character  of  the 
Author.    2  Vols.    pp.  Ixxxiii.  928.     Price  21*.     London,  1832. 

2.  Semi'Serums  Observations  of  an  tialian  Exile,  during  his  Residence 
in  England.  By  Count  Pecchio.  12mo.  pp.  xvi.  625.  Price 
10*.  M.    London,  1833. 

nPHE  history  of  this  portion  of  Mirabeau's  Correspondence, 
now  first  published,  is  thus  stated. 

'  In  the  year  1806,  the  Tran^tor  was  residing  at  Brussels.  At 
that  period,  the  fiishion  of  collecting  autographs  was  extremely  pre- 
valent, especially  among  ladies.  A  particular  friend  of  the  Translator's, 
Madame  de  Bathe,  requested  Mde.  Guilleminot,  the  sister-in-law  of 
tiie  present  General  Guilleminot,  to  assist  her  in  her  collection.  Her 
hommd,  in  consequence,  applied  to  one  of  the  sisters  of  Napoieon 
Baoaapartc.  That  princess  mentioned  the  application  to  Cambaceres, 
the  ChanoeHor  ef  the  empire ;  and  under  his  direction,  die  Keeper  of 
the  Archives  was  instructed  to  forward  as  many  autograph  letters  as 
might  be  at  his  disposal  to  Brussels.  Between  two  and  three  thousand 
letters,  written  by  celebrated  men  of  the  Revolution,  were  accordin^y 
despatched.  The  Translator  was  present  on  their  arrival.  Mde.  d« 
Baoie  requested  him  to  select  those  which  might  appear  the  mo^  in* 
teresting.  Having  done  so,  he  was  allowed  to  transcribe  such  as  he 
chose,  and  also  to  submit  the  originals  to  the  inspection  of  several  of 

fais  friends Most  of  Mirabeau's  letters,  here  given,  were  in  his 

<ywn  hand-writing ;  but  some  of  them  had  been  copied  by  Adam,  his 
secretanr,  who  succeeded  Hardy.  It  is  not  known  to  whom  they  had 
been  written ;  for,  having  been  collected  either  by  Mirabeau  or  by  Adam, 
and  jMurtiaHy  arranged,  with  a  view  to  their  publication,  the  envelopes 
liad  Deen  destrc^ed.* 

For  corroborating  testimony  to  the  genuineness  of  these  Letters, 
the  Translator  refers  to  Prince  d'Aremberg,  an  intimate  Sriend 
of  Mirabeau'^s,  and  several  other  highly  respectable  personages. 
The  date  of  the  letters  is  1784,  5. 

The  notice  of  the  Life  and  Character  of  Mirabeau,  prefixed  to 
the  Letters,  is  spirited  and,  upon  the  whole,  impartial  and  just. 
It  is  a  melancholy  and  disgusting  disclosure.  A  prodigy  of  ta- 
lent, talent  of  gigantic  energy,  he  exhibited  at  the  same  time  the 
most  frightful  specimen  of  mind  witholit  heart.  Immoral  does 
not  describe  his  character:  be  had  no  sense  of  morality,  no  con- 
science either  in  morals,  politics,  or  religion.  He  was  entirely 
unprincipled.  He  looked  not  merely  first,  but  exclusively,  to  his 
personal  interest  in  public  affairs ;  and,  as  Mde.  de  Stael  ob- 
serves, his  foresight  was  bounded  by  his  selfishness.  ^  The  tri- 
^  Inme  by  policy,  and  the  aristocrat  by  taste,'  at  once  a  Tory  and 
a  dflstmctionist,  he  despised  the  mob  as  much  as  he  hated  hia 

▼OB.  IX. — N.S,  I 


66  Mirabeau^g  Letters^  S^e, 

own  order ;  and  yet,  he  courted  the  applause  and  enjoyed  the  iiv- 
cense  of  the  rabble,  while  his  vanity  never  suffered  him  to  forget 
his  pretensions  to  nobility.  He  was  to  be  bought  by  any  party  ; 
but  no  gold  would  have  satisffed  his  cupidity,  supported  his  ori- 
ental extravagance*  or  purchased  his  fidelity.*  He  is  described 
as  ugly  almost  to  hideousness, — '  the  face  of  a  tiger  marked  with 
^  the  small-pox  "*;  but  of  his  very  ugliness,  as  of  the  moral  hide- 
ousness of  which  it  was  a  type,  he  was  vain.  With  all  his  de- 
formity of  countenance,  he  was  a  personal  favourite  with  the 
ladies.  To  a  Herculean  frame,  he  united  a  voice  of  thunder, 
full,  flexible,  and  sonorous.  This  was  the  chief  instrument  of  his 
power ;  and  by  this  he  impressed,  seduced,  inflamed,  and  ruled. 
His  vanity,  the  efflorescence  of  his  pure  selfishness,  was  seen  in 
every  thing. 

<  He  was  vain  of  his  person, — his  learning, — his  oratory, — his 
acting, — his  fencing, — his  authorship, — his  mode  of  correcting  proofs 
fwr  the  press ; — vain  of  every  thing.  Yet,  as  a  lUteratemr,  he  was  one 
of  the  most  notorious  and  unblushing  plagiarists  that  ever  existed.  As 
a  writer,  or  as  a  speaker,  he  never  scmpTed  to  avail  himself,  to  what- 
ever extent  occasion  might  require,  of  the  labours  of  others.  A  proud 
man  would  not  have  thus  acted.  ''  His  work  on  the  '  Bank  of  St. 
Charles,'  his  '  Denunciation  of  Stockjobbing,'  his  '  Considerations  on 
the  order  of  Cindnnatus,'  and  his  '  Lettres  de  Cachet,'  were  his  titles 
to  fame.  But  if  all  who  had  contributed  to  these  works  had  each 
daimed  his  share,  nothing  would  have  remained  as  Mirabeau's  own, 
but  a  certain  art  of  arrangement,  some  bold  expressions,  and  biting 
epigrams,  and  numerous  bursts  of  manly  eloquence,  certainly  not  the 
growth  of  the  French  Acadnny.  He  obtained  from  Claviere  and  Pan- 
chaud  the  materials  for  his  writings  on  finance*  Clariere  supplied 
him  with  the  subject  matter  of  his  '  Letter  to  the  King  of  Pnissia.' 
De  Bourges  was  the  author  of  his  address  to  the  Batavians."  It  has 
been  already  seen,  that  Dumont  and  Duroverai  wrote  many  of  his 
speeches.  Mirabeau  was  not  profound ;  but  he  possessed. the  art  of 
seizing  upon  grand  points,  and  making  the  most  of  them.  His  faci- 
lity in  appropriating  the  ideas,  thoughts,  and  expressions  of  others,  was 
truly  wonderful ;  with  a  Promethean  touch  he  made  them  his  own. 
In  fact,  Dumont, — all  the  parties  enumerated  above, — and  many 
others, — were  neither  more  nor  less  than  his  journeymen — ^his  tools. 

'  Mirabeau  was  not, — 

"  In  wit  a  man,  simplicity  a  child :  ** 

he  was  a  man  of  splendid  genius ;  but  his  gem'us  was  not  subservient 
to  his  reason  ;  he  was  depl^bly  wanting  in  self-respect ;  he  was  im- 
petuous, violent  and  indiscreet ; — he  possessed  not  the  discretion  oi  a 
diild  ten  years  of  age.     Hb  shrewdness,  his  perspicacity,  were  pro- 


tM,  a  ooort  i«nter,  once  remarked,  *  Je  sms  vemdm,  wutU  mom 
Mirabeau's  reply  was, '  Je  suis  pa^,  mais  mom  vtmJm: 


Minbeaa'*s  Ijetiers^  4^.  67 


^^ioos.  He  wu  profoondlT  skilled  in  tbe  art  of  flatterr  ^  ^ 
soanTe — capable  of  cajoling;— Tct  open  to  flattery  himself, — erer 
liable  to  be  cajoled,  and  converted  to  the  parposes  of  others,  even  by 
men  immeasnrablT  his  inferiors  in  knowled^  and  in  intellect. 

*  Temperate  in  drinking,  he  was  the  reverse  in  every  other  grati- 
fication of  sense.  His  perceptions  were  nice ;  his  conduct  was  gross. 
Ardent  as  a  lorer,  he  ^^as  inconstant  as  he  was  ardent ;  sensual — 
heartless— -profligate. 

'  Had  Mirabeaa  been  virtuonSr  he  would  have  been  grreat :  as  he 
was  TicioiiSy  he  was  only  wonderfuL' — VoL  I.  pp.  Ixxxi — Ixxxiii. 

This  is  well  put,  and  far  more  just  than  the  remark  of  M. 
Mignet,  that  ^  he  wanted  nothiDg  but  the  opportunity,  to  be 
^  great.^      La  Harpe  was  accustomed  to  say  of  the  ^  Plebeian 

*  Aristocrat,''  that  he  was  nominally  and  essentially  a  despot ;  and 
that,  *  had  he  enjoyed  the  goTemment  of  an  empire,  he  would 

*  have  surpassed  Richelieu  in  pride,  and  Mazann  in  policy.^ 
This  might  have  been,  had  not  his  vanity  been  so  much  greater 
than  bis  pride,  and  had  not  his  policy  been  always  oTer-nded  by 
his  profligacy. 

The  most  instructive  view,  perhaps,  to  be  taken  of  his  cha- 
racter, is  in  reference  to  the  state  of  society  which  produced  it. 
Mirabeau  was  not  simply  a  Frenchman,  but  he  was  the  quint- 
essence of  the  national  character ;  of  that  character  which  Voltaire 
described  as  a  hybrid  between  the  ape  and  the  tiger.  He  was 
the  personification,  the  avatar  of  those  evil  qualities  which  have 
ever  been  most  prominent  in  the  French  character.  He  might 
have  been  a  CatUine  in  Rome ;  we  know  not  what  he  might  have 
been  in  England, — perhaps  a  mere  Childe  Harold,  or  a  Chatham 
without  his  patriotism  and  virtue ;  but  he  could  have  been  Mira- 
beau, only  in  France.  His  character  was  the  illegitimate  offspring 
of  the  old  regime  and  the  revolution ;  deriving  its  energy  firom 
the  latter,  its  utter  viciousness  from  the  former.  He  sprang  from 
that  old  noblesse  whose  crimes  and  profligacy,  fostered  by  a  cor- 
rupt priesthood,  had  loosened  all  the  bonds  of  morality  and  law, 
and  left  nothing  for  the  Revolution  to  destroy,  but  the  forms  and 
trappings  of  government.  His  vanity  and  ferocity  were  French ; 
his  utter  destitution  of  religious  principle,  his  atheism,  and  his 
profligacy,  were  the  effect  of  that  condition  of  society  upon  which 
he  was  thrown,  and  out  of  the  mould  of  which  he  rose ;  a  con- 
dition produced  by  the  twin  evils,  popery  and  despotism,  the 
joint  corrupters  and  enslavers  of  mind  and  body ;  in  other  words, 
by  the  court  of  the  Bourbons  and  the  priesthood  of  Rome. 

But  our  present  object  is  neither  to  write  an  essay  on  the  cha- 
racter of  Mirabeau,  nor  to  discuss  the  causes  which  produced  this 
Genius'  of  disorganization.  It  is  necessary  th#t  the  reader  should 
be  appised  of  the  character  of  the  Writer  of  these  obser>'ations 
upon  England.     In  these  Letters,  however,  Mirabeau^s  appear- 

I  2 


6ft  Mirabeftu'^fl  LeH^ra^  Otr. 

anoe  is  adyantageous.  They  evince  no  laxity  of  principle  or  of  con- 
duct ;  and  from  their  perusal,  the  Editor  remarks,  no  one  would  sup- 
pose him  to  be  otherwise  than  a  man  of  honour  and  rectitude ;  and 
yet,  while  living  in  London,  he  was  *  the  sensualist,  the  volup- 
^  tuary,  the  profligate  Mirabeau.**  His  talents,  however,  procured 
him  the  acquaintance  of  several  of  the  leading  men  of  the  day. 
^  Of  many  points  of  the  English  character,  and  of  many  of  the 
^  public  institutions  of  England,  he  was  a  professed  and  ardent 
*  admirer.'*  Chatham'^s  speeches  more  especially  excited  his  ad- 
miration ;  and  ^  howsoever  the  copy  migbt  differ  from  the  ori- 
^  ginal,^  he  avowedly  made  that  great  orator  his  model.  We 
shall  now,  without  ftuther  preface,  lay  before  our  readers,  a  few 
apecimens  of  the  Letters.  Perhaps  the  best  criticism  upon  them^ 
is  that  which  the  Writer  has  himself  supplied. 

'  In  that  case  I  shall  return  to  Paris ;  and  one  of  the  first  books  I 
intend  to  publish  will  be^  "  A  Year's  Residence  in  England."  I  have 
written  to  my  different  correspondents^  requesting  them  not  to  destroy 
my  letters  dated  from  hence.  They  are  merely  rough  sketches,  thrown 
off"  in  the  greatest  haste,  Jilled  perhaps  with  contradictory  notions  re^ 
specting  this  country  and  its  inhabitants;  but^  whatever  they  may  be^ 
Kiev  bear  the  impress  of  the  moment ;  and  !>  like  many  other  worthy  in* 
dividuals,  am  guided  in  my  opinions  by  the  state  of  my  mind,  the  h^tb 
of  my  body,  or,  perhaps,  to  oe  more  precise,  by  the  fiillness  or  empti- 
ness of  my  purse.  "  I  find  it  difficult,"  said  La  B.  ''to  persuade  a 
minister  who  is  in  the  act  of  digesting  a  delicious  meal,  that  the  people 
of  an  entire  province  are  in  a  state  of  actual  starvation."  This  is  certain ; 
I  feel  more  pleased  with  myself  and  with  those  around  me,  thanks  to 
the  fifty  louis  a  month  I  receive  from  my  publisher.'     Vol.  I.  p.  130. 

Contradictory  and  sometimes  absurd,  certainly,  the  notions 
thrown  out  at  random  in  these  efiusions  of  the  moment,  must  be 
pronounced*     For  example : 

'  To  children,  the  religious  exercises  of  the  English  afford  nothing 
capable  of  softening  and  humanizing  their  disposition.  These  exer- 
cises do  not  strike  the  senses ;  they  are  confined  to  prayers,  which 
never  end,  and  are  interspersed  with  metaphysical  or  dogmatical  in* 
strnctions,  that  have  no  effect  upon  the  mind.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  service  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  the  pictures  and  statues  which 
adorn  the  temples,  with  the  variety  of  ceremonies,  processions,  salu-* 
tations,  &c.,  are  better  adapted  to  the  capacity  of  young  people :  as 
they  have  a  natural  turn  for  imitation,  they  are  seen  to  crowd  together 
in  Catholic  countries,  to  dress  shrines,  to  sing  at  high  mass,  and  to 
tvalk  in  processions.  These  exercises  nourish  that  simplicity  which 
becomes  their  tender  years,  and  gives  the  mind  a  pliant  turn  that  pre- 
serves the  gentleness  of  their  temper,  and  their  disposition  to  gayety. 

'  If,  in  England,  we  observe  the  influence  of  religion  on  grown  per- 
sons, we  shall  see  a  new  source  of  melancholy.  Let  us  confine  our- 
selves to  the  country  towns  and  villages — to  that  part  of  the  nation 
which  has  most  religion—and  we  shall  find  that  the  Jewish  rigour 


Mirabeau^'s  Letters,  ^c.  69 

wkh  wUdi  they  ai^  obliged  to  keep  the  Sabbath^  the  only  holiday 
they  haye>  is  an  absolute  speciBc  to  nourish  the  gloom  of  their  temper. 
This  rigid  obserrance  of  tne  Sabbath  is  founded  upon  the  laws  which 
the  Puritans  extorted  from  Queen  Elizabeth ;  laws  which  James  the 
First,  and  Charles  the  Firsts  in  vain  endeavoured  to  meliorate  by  or- 
dinances which  allowed  all  sorts  of  lawful  pleasures  and  amusements 
alter  divine  service-' — Vol.  I.  pp.  238 — 240. 

*  The  English,  accustomed  to  view  religion  in  this  gloomy  light,  arc 
veady  to  £dl  into  every  sort  of  excess  which  they  may  think  capable  of 
kading  them  to  perfection,  by  any  path  whatever.  There  is  no  sort 
of  extravagance  of  this  kind  that  an  English  head  is  not  capable  of. 
Religion,  notwithstanding,  is  calculated  to  make  men  happy  ;  and  I 
fully  concur  with  the  writer  who  says — "  He  will  be  cheerful,  if  he 
has  a  cheerful  religion  ;  he  will  be  sad,  if  his  religion  is  of  a  sad  and 
gloomy  kind ;  he  makes  his  happiness  subordinate  to  it,  and  refers 
himself  to  it  in  all  things  that  interest  him  most."  Thus,  the  mi- 
Bistera  <ii  reh'gion  are  responsible  to  God,  not  only  for  the  future,  but 
the  present  happiness  of  the  people  whose  confidence  they  possess.  It 
is  an  offence  against  the  human  species,  to  disturb  the  repose  which 
they  should  enjoy  upon  earth. 

'  The  theatrical  exhibitions  of  the  English  contribute  equally  to 
fted,  or  rather  to  increase,  the  national  melancholy.  The  tragedies 
which  the  people  are  most  fond  of,  consist  of  a  number  of  bloody 
scenes,  shodcing  to  humanity ;  and  these  scenes  are  upon  the  stage  as 
warm  and  affecting  as  the  justest  action  can  render  them  ; — an  action 
as  lively,  pathetic,  and  slowing,  as  that  of  their  preachers  is  cold, 
languid,  and  uniform.'— vol.  I.  pp.  243,  244. 

To  the  national  melancholy  of  the  English,  thus  nourished  by 
the  palpit  and  the  stage,  this  clever,  superficial,  volatile  French- 
man paradoxically  ascribes  *  the  aptitude  of  the  English  for  the 

*  sciences, ^^nd  ^  the  great  sale  of  the  newspapers  \  which  the  ge- 
nerality of  the  English,  he  says,  spend  a  considerable  time  in 
reading.     *  Hence  those  revolutions  which  have  so  often  changed 

*  the  government  of  England.''  It  is  a  pity  that  it  did  not  occur 
to  him  to  ascertain  the  date  of  the  first  newspaper.  ^  In  the  pre* 
^  sent  state  of  England,''  he  continues,  ^  public  affairs  have  become 
'  the  concern  of  every  Englishman :  each  citizen  is  a  politician. 

*  The  case  was  quite  different  in  the  reigns  of  Henry  VIII.  and 

*  Queen  Elizabeth.'*     In  the  next  page,  he  proeeeds  to  speak  of 
the  political  divisions  and  contests  that  a^tated  England  in  those 
reigns,  when  newspapers  had  assuredly  little  to  do  with  creating 
disturbances.     The  theme  is  thus  pursued  in  Letter  xlvi. 

'  The  impetuosity  and  the  perseverance  with  which  melancholy 
dwells  upon  such  objects  as  interest  and  engage  it,  are  the  principles 
that  induce  the  English  to  concern  themselves  so  much  about  public 
aflfairs.  Each  citizen,  identifying  himself  with  the  government,  must 
of  necessity  extend  to  himself  the  high  idea  he  has  of  the  nation :  he 
triumphs  in  its  victories ;  he  is  afflicted  by  its  calamities ;  he  exhausts 


70    '  Mirabeau's  Letters^  <J-c. 

himself  in  projects  to  promote  its  successes^  to  second  its  advantages^ 
to  repair  its  losses. 

'  Hence  that  natural  pride  which  immortalized  him  who  first  used 
the  expression — "  The  Majesty  of  the  People  of  England  ;  "  a  pride 
from  which  the  splendour  of  the  most  renowned  states  of  antiquity 
took  its  rise ; — a  pride  which,  being  the  first  foundation  of  public 
strength,  and  multiplying  it  ad  infinitum,  subdivides,  and  in  some 
measure  distributes,  itself  to  every  citizen; — a  pride  that  produced 
those  wonderful  examples  of  patriotism  which  made  so  shining  a 
figure  in  ancient  history  ; — in  fact,  a  pride  which  is  perhaps  the  only 
patriotism  that  human  nature  is  capable  of  attaining. 


"  Totam  diffusa  per  artus 
Mens  agitat  molem,  ac  magno  se  corpore  miscet. 


Even  the  fair  sex  has  its  share  of  this  pride,  in  England ;  and  it  dis« 
plays  itself  with  all  the  violence  which  melancholy  imparts  to  the  af- 
fections and  passions.  The  revolution  that  subvertea  the  throne  of 
Charles  the  First  furnishes  many  examples  of  this  sort,  which  Butler 
makes  mention  of  in  his  Hudibras.* — Vol.  I.  pp.  259 — 261. 

In  a  following  letter,  he  traces  to  the  same  supposed  melan- 
cholic temperament  of  Englishmen,  the  inclination  to  commit 
suicide.  The  Editor  very  properly  asks,  in  a  note,  *  What  then 
*  occasions  the  propensity  towards  this  crime  among  the  French  ?' 
The  fact  is,  that  the  crime  is  far  less  frequent  in  England,  than 
either  in  France  or  in  Germany. 

'  Amongst  men  of  learning,  artisans,  and  clergymen,  public  afi^rs 
generally  furnish  the  subject  of  conversation ;  every  Englishman  giving 
as  much  attention  to  these  matters  as  though  he  were  the  prime 
minister.  This  is  the  case  even  with  the  lowest  class,  and  country 
people.  Pleasurable  and  ^y  conversation  is  unknown  to  these  so- 
cieties. The  English  find  no  relief  from  reflection,  except  in  re- 
flection itself :  they  have  no  other  means  of  amusing  themselves ;  and 
gaming  gives  them  pleasure,  only  by  affording  them  an  opportunity  to 
reflect. 

'  '  The  English,  who  are  profound  thinkers,  violent  in  their  desires, 
and  carrying  all  their  passions  to  excess,  are  altogether  extravagant  in 
the  articiei  of  gaming.  Several  rich  noblemen  are  said  to  have  ruined 
themselves  by  it ;  others  devote  their  whole  time  to  it,  at  the  expense 
of  their  business,  their  repose,  and  their  health.  A  minister  of  state 
passed  four-and-twenty  hours  at  a  public  gaming-table,  so  absorbed  in 
play,  that  during  the  whole  time  he  had  no  sustenance  but  a  bit  of 
beef  between  two  slices  of  toasted  bread,  which  he  ate  without  ever 
quitting  the  game.  This  refreshment  became  highly  in  vogue,  and  re- 
ceived the  name  of  the  minister  (Lord  Sandwich)  by  whom  it  was  in- 
vented.'—Vol.  I.  pp.  223—224. 

'  The  French  are  apt  to  imagine,  that  it  is  on  account  of  their 
country  they  are  pushed  and  shoved  in  the  most  frequented  streets, 
and  often  driven  into  the  kennel.     They  are  mistaken.    The  English 


Mirabeau'^s  Letters^  S^c,  *J\ 

walk  very  fast,  their  thoughts  being  entirely  engrossed  by  business ; 
they  are  very  punctual  to  their  appointments  ;  and  those  who  happen 
to  be  in  their  way,  are  sure  to  be  sufferers  by  it.  Constantly  dartins 
forward,  they  jostle  them  with  a  force  proportioned  to  their  bulk  and 
the  velocity  of  their  motion.  I  have  seen  foreigners,  not  used  to  this 
exercise,  suffer  themselves  to  be  tossed  and  whirled  about  a  long  time, 
in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  passengers,  who  had  nothing  else  in  view 
but  to  get  forward.  Plautus,  describing  the  bustle  of  the  port  of 
Athens,  has  given  a  true  account  of  this  city  : — 

*  *'  Drive  those  forward  who  are  coming  towards  you  ;  push  them  on  ; 
force  them  into  the  middle  of  the  street ;  when  you  are  running  on, 
and  when  you  are  in  the  greatest  hurry  imaginable,  scarcely  any  body 
will  vouchsafe  to  make  way  for  you :'  so  that  you  have  three  things  at 
once  upon  your  hands,  when  you  have  undertaJcen  but  one ;  you  must 
run,  fight,  and  scold  by  the  way." 

'  We  should  be  in  an  error,  were  we  to  imagine  that  the  English 
&8hions,  diametrically  opposite  to  those  of  the  French,  arc  contrived 
in  the  manner  they  are,  to  avoid  all  resemblance  to  those  of  our  na- 
tion. On  the  contrary,  if  the  former  are  in  any  respect  influenced  by 
the  latter,  it  is  by  the  desire  of  imitating  them.  A  mode  begins  to  be 
out  of  date  in  Paris,  just  when  it  has  been  introduced  in  London,  by 
some  English  noblejnan.  The  court,  and  the  first-rate  nobility,  im- 
mediately take  it  up ;  it  is  next  introduced,  about  St.  James's,  by 
those  who  ape.  the  manners  of  the  court ;  and,  by  the  time  it  has 
reached  the  city,  a  contrary  mode  alreadv  prevails  in  Paris,  where  the 
English,  bringing  with  them  the  obsolete  fashion,  appear  like  the 
people  of  another  world.* — Vol.  I.  pp.  189 — 191. 

'  Were  you  to  be  told,  that,  in  a  certain  latitude,  an  island  exists  in 
which  the  winds  are  extremely  changeable,  the  climate  temperate,  but 
the  air  almost  always  loaded  with  fogs  and  humid  vapours ;  were  you 
also  to  be  told,  that  the  people  who  inhabit  this  island,  having  pro- 
cured, by  labour  and  industry,  considerable  wealth,  have  acquired  the 
habit  of  partaking  plentifully  of  food ;  that,  although  they  eat  but 
little  bread,  which  is  more  readily  converted  into  chyle,  but  a  great 
quantity  of  meat,  much  butter,  and  potatoes  ;  and  that  the  customary 
beverage  is  a  strong  beer,  extremely  nourishing,  and  even  in  whicn 
opium  is  frequently  infused, — woula  you  not,  at  the  moment,  be  in- 
clined to  think  that  a  man  circumstanced  thus,  with  respect  to  climate 
and  diet,  must  possess  more  substance,  more  life,  more  force  and  power 
for  action,  be  better  able  to  endure  fatigue  ;  but  that,  generally  speak- 
ing, his  fibres  must  be  more  flaccid,  more  soft,  consequently  less  elastic, 
less  susceptible,  and,  putting  exceptions  out  of  the  case,  his  animal 
spirits  must  be  less  vivacious,  and  circulate  through  his  frame  with  less 
rapidity  ?     Well !  this  supposition  here  becomes  reality.' 

Vol.  I.  pp.  19,  20. 

*  On  my  arrival  in  London,  nothing  struck  me  more  forcibly  than 
the  sight  of  those  flag-stone  pavements  which  caused  that  excellent 
man.  La  Condamine,  to  fall  upon  his  knees,  and  exclaim,  ''  Thank 
God  !  I  am  in  a  country  where  they  who  are  obliged  to  go  on  foot 
have  not  been  forgotten  !  "  Every  thing  else,  as  we  passed  through  the 


72  Mirabeau^s  Letters^  4*c. 

town,  appeared  to  me  uncommoDly  plain ;  so  much  so,  that  I  could 
not  but  agree  with  the  apathetic  Italian,  who  said— '^  The  town  is 
composed  of  streets  on  the  right,  streets  on  the  left,  and  a  road  in  the 
midale."  Every  town  resembles  every  other.  If,  however,  you  allow 
this  one  to  enjoy  admirable  cleanliness,  which  extends  to  every  thing, 
which  embellishes  every  thing — an  attraction  both  for  body  and  soul 
— to  an  extent  which  no  ancient  city  ever  possessed ;  yet,  here»  you 
will  find  frightful  political  maladies — a  moral  sink  of  iniquity — and, 
perhaps,  as  elsewhere,  a  physical  one  also.' — Vol.  I.  pp.  10,  11. 

*  Speaking  of  order,  cleanliness,  and  comfort,  notning  is  more  won- 
derful than  the  stables  of  the  English :  they  are  positivdy  cleaner  than 
most  of  the  Paris  hotels.  I  know  not  whether  Swift  ever  visited 
France :  if  he  did,  there  he  found  prototypes  in  abundance  for  his  Ya- 
hoos; and  here,  models  innumeralHe  for  his  Houyhnhnms.'    p.  110. 

The  following  remarks  are  of  a  more  grave  and  more  important 
character.  We  give  them  without  comment,  altboagh  they  supply 
ample  matter  for  reflection. 

'  The  soul  of  the  British  government  is  influence :  the  Crown  risi- 
bly  absorbs  the  power  of  the  whole  legislature  by  influence ;  she  pos- 
sesses the  executive  in  right ;  and  every  man  who  attends  to  parlia- 
mentary affairs,  must  perceive,  that  the  votes  of  both  houses  are  al- 
ways at  command.  The  real  government  of  this  country  is,  therefore, 
different  from  the  apparent.  The  King's  Ministers  are  certain  of  be- 
ing able  to  carry  every  point  tliey  desire ;  the  King's  will  is  the  law. 
A  Frenchman  will  then  naturally  inquire,  what  difference,  in  this  case, 
exists  between  the  English  constitution  and  the  French  government ; 
he  will  say,  **  Your  King  does  what  he  likes  through  your  parliament ; 
ours  does  the  same  without  the  parliament ;  now,  where  is  the  differ- 
ence to  the  people  ? " — The  answer  is,  *'  Yuu  know  not  how  many 
points  the  King  wants  to  carry ;  but  his  friends  will  not  support  him 
m  them,  and  ccmsequently  they  never  come  before  parliament."  This 
idea  lets  us  into  the  secret  of  the  constitution ;  the  King's  power  is 
absolute  in  all  matters  which  will  not  too  greatly  shock  the  prejudices 
and  inclinations  of  the  people. 

'  As  to  the  power  of  the  purse,  which,  we  are  told^  includes  all 
other  power,  he  is  as  absolute  as  the  King  of  France ;  and  that^  be-r 
cause  the  people  of  England  are  constitutionally  accustomed  to  see 
all  the  demands  of  the  Crown  granted  in  parliament. 

*  In  general  acts,  the  regal  power  seems  uncontrdled ;  in  particular 
ones,  it  is  as  limited  as  in  any  country  in  Europe.  What  I  mean  1% 
that  the  laws  that  bind  the  whole  people  in  an  equality,  are  ever  in  the 
power  of  the  Crown  ;  but,  let  the  king  depart  from  the  general  idea» 
by  injuring  or  killing  an  individual,  he  immediately  finds  his  power 
circumscribed.  Thus,  it  would  be  easier  for  him  to  destroy  the  liberty 
of  the  press  at  one  stroke,  or  to  oppress  the  whole  kingdom  by  an 
enormous  tax,  than  to  wrest  a  cottage  from  its  rightful  owner.  The 
King  can  raise  twenty  millions  of  money ;  but  he  cannot  cut  off  the 
head  of  John  Wilkes.  All  general  laws  are  at  the  power  of  the 
Crown ;  particular  actions  must  bear  the  stamp  of  freedom. 


Mirabeau'*s  Letters^  ^c,  73 

'  The  Ireedom  of  the  press  has  justly  been  called  the  bulwark  of 
liberty ;  does  any  one  doubt  but  a  minister  could  carry  a  vote  to  sub- 
ject it  to  a  licencer  to-morrow  ? 

'  They  who  hesitate  to  subscribe  to  the  opinion,  that  the  Crown  is 
•in  reality  all-powerful  in  general  laws,  should  consider  the  present 
atate  of  influence.  We  have  been  told,  that  the  public  is  poor,  but 
individuals  are  rich.  This  seems  to  be  the  strangest  mistake  that  could 
possibly  have  been  made ;  for  the  fact  is  directly  contrary :  nothing 
can  exceed  the  poverty  of  individuals,  even  those  who  possess  the 
ilargest  and  noblest  estates.  Whence  the  universal  influence  of  the 
Crown,  if  not  from  the  poverty  of  the  people  ?  It  is  a  luxurious  age  ; 
every  man  longing  earnestly  for  the  means  of  rivallinff^his  neighbours  ; 
straining  every  nerve  to  rise  in  show,  elegance,  &c.  Fine  houses,  su- 
perb furniture,  rich  equipages,  expensive  dress,  luxurious  feasting,  un- 
Dounded  gaming,  and  all  the  modes  of  lavishing  money  which  were 
ever  practised  in  the  most  luxurious  ages  and  countries,  are  now  found 
amongst  persons  of  large  fortunes  :  they  arc  closely  imitated  by  their 
inferiors,  until  some  part  of  their  profusion  descends  even  to  the  low- 
est classes.  In  such  a  state  of  things,  how  should  any  body  be  rich  } 
Wants  on  every  hand  exceed  the  power  of  gratification.  All  live  be- 
yond their  fortunes ;  all  are,  and,  in  such  a  train,  must  be,  poor.  To 
whom  should  they  look  for  money,  which  their  own  industry  could 
never  gain,  nor  their  economy  save  ?  To  him  who  has  three  millions 
annually  at  his  disposal. 

'  While  such  is  the  great  outline  of  the  nation,  how  can  any  one 
doubt  the  power  of  influence? 

*  This  universal  expense,  which  so  infallibly  brings  on  universal  po- 
lEerty,  enriches  the  public — that  is,  the  King.  The  alienation,  so  ra- 
pid, in  profusion,  is  in  every  stage  taxed  pretty  heavily ;  whence  a 
revenue  is  raised,  great  in  itself,  but  greater  in  its  consequences  ;  for, 
on  the  credit  of  what  is  and  what  may  be,  unbounded  wealth  is  raised 
at  will,  and  a  little  kingdom  spends  more  in  a  twelvemonth  than  sup- 
ported the  greatest  empires  during  many  years.  Nor  has  this  arisen 
Irom  the  unnatural  exertion  of  imprudent  enterprise — the  efforts  of 
folly  sinking  to  debility  ;  it  has  been  genuine  strength,  often  repeated, 
and  yet  unexhausted.  In  a  word,  it  is  public  wealth  founded  on  pri- 
vate profusion. 

'  When  I  mention  the  poverty  of  individuals,  I  do  not  mean  that 
they  are  unpossessed  of  estates  and  money ;  no,  they  live  in  unbound- 
ed plenty  of  both  ;  but  the  luxurious  profusion  of  the  age  is  %o  great, 
that  the  master  of  forty  thousand  a-year  is  almost  a  beggar.  Relative 
to  the  constitution,  he  is  poor  ;  but,  as  an  object  by  whom  the  public 
grows  wealthy,  he  is  rich.  The  wants  and  dependence,  which  surely 
may  in  that  sense  be  called  poverty,  are  in  exact  proportion  to  the 
qnantity  of  money,  and  consequent  degree  of  luxury,  in  the  nation.' 

Vol.  II.  pp.  135-140. 

In  a  subsequent  letter,  Mirabeau  sarcastically  ridicules  the 
spirit  of  modem  patriotism,  composed  of  ^  Grecian  or  Roman 
*  ideas  in  an  EngUsh  dress  \  and  insists  that  the  moment  anj 
one  in  this  country  makes  pretences  to  this  obsolete  and  impos- 

FOL.  IX. — K.S-  K 


74  Mirabeau's  Letters^  ^c. 

Bible  virtue,  he  should  be  treated  as  a  visionary  fool  or  a  design- 
ing knave.  He  then  goes  on  to  describe  what  a  real  patriot 
would  be. 

*  If  you  would  fix  an  idea  to  the  word  patriot,  and  adapt  it  to  this 
country^  you  ought  to  describe  a  man  in  parliament  who  looks  at 
measures  alone,  totally  forgetting  who  are  the  conductors,  and  who,  in 
all  his  conduct,  both  m  and  out  of  place,  adheres  steadily  to  certain 
plans  which  he  thinks  favourable  to  the  happiness  and  liberty  of  the 
people. 

'  In  an  age  when  the  influence  of  the  Crown  is  too  great,  and 
threatens  to  overturn  the  constitution,  he  will  not  enter  into  any  mea- 
sures that  can  add  to  that  influence  by  the  same  means  that  created  it. 
Debts  and  taxes  laid  the  foundation,  throwing  into  the  scale  of  the 
Crown  a  weight  unthought  of  at  the  Revolution :  adding  to  the  debt 
is  increasing  taxes,  and  all  their  train  of  consequences,  already  too 
^Ninidable  to  liberty.  If,  therefore,  such  a  man  could  exist  as  a 
modern  patriot,  in  cold  blood,  he  would  see  the  necessity  of  adhering 
to  a  plan  of  preventing  a  further  acquisition  of  riches  in  the  Crown, 
by  raising  fresh  taxes  to  pay  the  interest  of  new  debts. 

'  A  patriot  must  merely  think  liberty  of  much  more  consequence 
than  military  success,  great  trade,  naval  power,  or  any  such  posses- 
sion ;  and  would  consequently  never  agree  to  measures  which,  in  order 
to  gain  the  latter,  could  in  any  degree  endanger  the  former. 

'  Now,  we  have  never  found  that  any  of  our  patriots  have  conduct- 
ed themselves  on  these  ideas:  they  nave  railed  at  small  expenses, 
when  out  of  power,  and  run  into  large  ones  the  moment  they  were  in 
place. 

*  But  what  encouragement,  real  in  the  goods  of  fortune,  or  imagin- 
ary in  the  opinions  of  the  world,  can  any  man  have  for  turning  pa- 
triot? If  he  really  mean  well,  he  will  possess  neither:  certainly  not 
the  former ;  and  he  will  lose  the  latter  the  moment  he  may  act  beyond 
the  ideas  of  the  mob.  What  glimpse  of  hope  can  he  have  of  success? 
In  parliament,  the  Crown  is  so  strong  that  an  orator  may  \\aste  a 
dozen  pair  of  well-toned  lungs,  before  he  out-talks  the  powers  of 
ministerial  gold:  he  has  not  an  Athenian  or  a  Roman  mob  to  ha- 
rangue, but  men  whose  education  just  gives  them  the  plea  of  a  sys- 
tematic defence  and  apology  for  the  most  glaring  venality.  How  is 
he  to  make  an  impression  on  the  needy  sons  of  extravagance,  who 
have  learning  enough  to  be  sophists  ?  Can  he  expect  that  flowers  of 
rhetoric  and  flights  of  fancy  shall  be  weightier  tnan  posts  and  pen- 
sions? A  place  at  the  board  of  customs  or  excise — pay  master  ship— 
or  a  contract ; — are  not  these  powers  beyond  the  eloquence  of  a  Tully 
or  a  Demosthenes?'     pp.  153—156. 

In  the  next  letter,  we  find  the  Writer,  whom  we  should  no 
longer  recognize  as  the  author  of  some  of  the  preceding  flippant 
observations,  giving  his  reasons  for  thinking  that  the  power  and 
prosperity  of  England  will  be  more  permanent  than  those  of 
either  France  or  Spain. 

'  The  maritime  power  of  England  is  not  the  wayward  child  of  an 


Mirabeau^s  Letters^  <S*c.  7^ 

knlote  monarchy  who  determines  to  be  potent  on  every  element;  it  is 
Ml  bIow,  natural  growth  of  more  than  two  hundred  years^  which  has 
nod  many  a  6erce  attack,  and  weathered  many  a  storm. 
'  Another  circumstance  which  has  continued  and  increased  every 
Imt  advantage,  is  the  peculiar  felicity  of  the  English  constitution. 
yff  the  great  kingdoms  of  Europe  have  lost  their  liberty  except  Eng- 
od:  liberty  has  carried  her  trade,  agriculture,  manu^tures,  wealth, 
iivarjy  to  a  pitch  to  which  they  could  never  otherwise  have  at- 


*  Another  point  of  vast  importance  is  the  uncommon  union  of  trade 
id  agriciiltare.  The  amaaing  commerce  of  England  is  equal  to  that 
F  liie  most  &mou8  states  that  have  been  great  by  commerce  alone; 
id  this  vast  trade  has  been  carried  on,  not  by  a  knot  of  unhappy 
ma,  like  the  Dutch,  who  were  forced  to  be  traders  or  nothing ;  but 
f  A  great  landed  nation,  amongst  whom  trade  enlivened  agriculture, 
id  agriculture  yielded  immense  products  for  trade. 

'  liastly,  the  period  of  these  various  circumstances  coming  in  full 
}atf  was  at  a  time  when  the  rival  nations  had  passed  the  meridian  of 
Mr  grandeur ;  so  that  England  was  the  rising,  France  the  setting 
in.  No  other  power, arose  to  dispute  the  palm  of  equality;  she  had 
Dt  then  a  France  succeeding  Spain  in  great  power,  to  draw  her  off, 
id  waste  her  strength  with  fresh  contests. 

*  All  these  are  reasons  for  conjecturing  that  this  country  will,  in  her 
im«  be  the  first  power  of  the  Christian  world.  She  cannot  aim  at 
niversal  monarchy,  for  reasons  already  mentioned ;  and  that  modera- 
(m  will  save  her  from  efforts  beyond  her  strength,  and  from  alliances 
nongst  the  rest  of  Europe  to  pull  down  her  power.  It  will,  there- 
ire>  be  more  stable,  and  far  more  prosperous  than  that  of  either 
'ranoe  or  Spain. 

'  You  observe  that  this  view  of  the  affairs  of  Britain  does  not  take 
Otioe  of  her  internal  state,  particularly  her  debts,  and  some  other 
Ircumstances,  which  newspaper  politicians  are  always  telling  us  are 
er  ruin.*    pp.  159 — 161. 

'  The  national  debts  of  this  country  are  certainly  very  considerable ; 
at  it  seems  preposterous  to  predict  ruin  to  the  state,  because  the  right 
and  owes  to  the  left ;  and,  as  to  the  debt  due  to  foreigners,  it  is  com- 
aratively  light.  But,  where  are  the  politicians  who  will  venture  to 
Bsure  us  of  the  impossibility  that  this  kingdom  will  apply  the  sponge, 
ad  yet  presently  after  borrow  again  ?  Much  more  surprising  turns 
ave  happened  in  the  history  of  human  affairs. 

*  The  power  of  England  is  much  too  great  to  have  any  thing  to 
aur  from  the  united  force  of  all  her  enemies ;  and  they  must  be  shal- 
>w  politicians  who  arc  deceived,  by  trifling  minutiae,  into  an  opinion 
bat  she  is  in  any  danger  of  falling  under  the  power  of  France. 

*  I  cannot  by  any  means  subscribe  to  your  opinion,  that  the  public 
evenues  of  England  arc  carried  to  the  utmost  height  of  which  they 
re  capable ;  on  the  contrary,  I  apprehend  there  are  several  reasons 
ir  supposing  them  capable  of  great  increase,  without  burthening  the 
eople  so  far  as  to  destroy  industry. 

'  There  is  an  uncertainty  in  every  thing  that  concerns  taxation, 
^ch  is  too  dark  for  the  acutest  genius  to  clear  up.     In  every  country 

K  2 


76  Mirabeaa''s  Letters^  ^C, 

we  find  it  muthematically  proved^  that,  if  another  million  be  raised^ 
the  people  must  be  clearly  undone.  Two  or  three  millions  are  then 
levied,  and  the  same  prophecy  is  repeated.  The  idea  that  one  tax 
creates  an  ability  in  the  people  to  pay  another,  is  very  absurd  ;  but  it 
is  difficult  to  say  how  &r  taxation  may  be  carried ;  because,  in  no 
country  in  Europe,  where  taxes  are  laid  en  equally,  and  with  judge- 
ment, do  they  oppress  the  people  ,*  nor  is  there  an  instance  to  be  pro- 
duced of  a  people  ruined  by  taxes.  Other  more  powerful  eircum- 
stances  must  unite ;  for  this  is  not  of  sufficient  weight  to  effect  the 
evil.  The  heaviest  taxed  countries  are  the  most  flourishing  in  Eu- 
rope: I  do  not  mistake  the  cause  for  the  effect,  and  assert  them, 
therefore,  to  be  the  most  flourishing ;  but  adduce  the  fact  to  show  that 
taxes  which,  in  their  extreme,  are  perfectly  consistent  with  wealth, 
happiness,  and  power,  cannot  have  those  dreadful  effects  which  some 
have  attributed  to  them.*     pp.  162 — 165. 

From  whom  did  Mirabeau  derive  these  ideas  ?  For,  whether 
just  or  not^  they  can  hardly  have  risen  in  his  mind  spontaneously 
and  underived.  They  are  in  curious  contrast  to  the  opinions  ex- 
pressed in  a  silly  letter  from  Voltaire  to  Lord  Chesterneld,  given 
in  Letter  lxxx.  In  Letter  lxix.  we  have  some  very  admirable 
remarks,  which  we  have  not  room  to  transcribe,  upon  the  patron- 
age of  literature,  and  the  importance  of  encouraging  literary 
men  of  sterling  abilities,  to  prevent  the  prostitution  of  their  ta- 
lent. '  With  authors  of  considerable  reputation,'  it  is  remarked, 
'  the  booksellers    are  by  far  the  most  munificent  patrons  that 

*  the  learned  meet  with  in  this  country.**  This  is  a  species 
of  encouragement  not  to  be  found  in  many  other  countries  where 
literature  is  much  cultivated ;  and  it  is  '  of  all  methods  of  an 
^  author's  being  recompensed,  the  most  honourable,  easy,  and  in- 

*  dependent.'     13ut 

'  IVIany  in  the  herd  deserve  encouragement, — or  snpport,  to  keep 
them  from  such  a  dependence  on  the  pen,  as  may  enable  them  to  take 
time  and  choice  in  their  compositions.  That  there  is  real  genius  in 
this  class,  cannot  be  doubted ;  for  most  of  the  works  of  the  present 
aige,  that  will  be  read  in  the  next  with  pleasure,  and  probably  exist  as 
long  as  the  English  language,  are  the  productions  of  authors  who 
wrotCj  if  not  for  bread,  most  certainly  for  an  income.'  Vol.  II.  p.  174. 

Mirabeau  seems  to  have  taken  an  extraordinary  interest  in  the 
political  condition  of  the  Jews,  and  in  the  character  of  the  cele- 
brated Mendelsohn,  of  whose  life  and  writings  he  speaks  of 
having  prepared  a  notice;  and  he  appears  to  have  actually 
formed  the  project  of  writing  *  a  history  of  religion,  and  of  the 

*  Jews'!  !  An  essay  *  on  the  Political  Reform  of  the  Jews', 
with  a  Reply  to  the  Objections  of  IVIichaelis,  which  occupies  62 
pages,  purports  to  be  chiefly  taken  from  Mendelsohn.  We  wish 
that  the  Editor  had  given  us  more  distinct  information  concern- 
ing this  interesting  document,  which  cannot  be  Mirabeau's  com- 


Mirabeau^s  Letters^  cj-c.  77 

position,  and  if  really  translated  from  his  papers,  must  be  the 
translation  of  a  translation.  Mendelsohn'*s  Letter  to  Lavater  is 
also  given ;  and  *  the  Death  of  Socrates  \  translated  from  the 
German  of  the  great  Jewish  Philosopher.  The  strong  sympathy 
which  all  the  Unitarians,  Neologists,  and  Infidels  of  the  day 
evinced  with  that  remarkable  and  learned  personage,  is  a  striking 
fact.     By  one  German  Professor,  he  was  styled,  *  the  greatest 

*  sage  since  Socrates.''  On  a  monument  erected  to  him,  another 
Professor  inscribed,  *  A  sage  like  Socrates,  faithful  to  the  ancient 

*  creed,  teaching  immortality,  himself  immortal'.*  In  the  eyes 
of  the  literati  of  the  Continent,  a  greater  than  Luther,  a  greater 
than  Paul,  nay,  a  greater  than  Paul's  Master  and  Lord,  had  ap- 
peared, worthy  of  being  placed  at  the  head  of  the  great  school  of 
Infidelity.  We  do  not  recollect,  however,  to  have  seen  the  cir- 
cumstance noticed,  that  Mirabeau  was  among  the  number  of  his 
enthusiastic  votaries.  It  is  remarkable,  that,  some  time  in  1^SS, 
Mirabeau  left  London  for  Berlin,  '  engaged  on  a  secret  mission 

*  by  Calonne,  to  observe  the  politics  of  the  Prussian  court.' 
Mendehohn  died  at  Berlin  on  the  4th  of  Jan.  I786.  Whether 
he  had  any  share  in  determining  Mirabeau's  movements,  whether 
they  had  previously  corresponded,  or,  if  so,  whether  they  ever 
met, — are  inquiries  which  naturally  suggest  themselves,  but  which 
these  volumes  do  not  afford  the  means  of  ascertaining. 

Before  we  dismiss  these  volumes,  there  is  one  more  passage 
which  claims  notice,  both  as  being  most  honourable  to  the 
Writer,  and  as  reading  at  the  present  moment  almost  like  a  sa- 
gacious presentiment  or  prediction.  Mirabeau  is  giving  an  ac- 
count of  a  long  and  interesting  conversation  which  he  had  with 
a  learned  English  Professor,  Dr.  Brown,  on  the  subject  of  the 
national  character  of  the  English  and  the  French,  and  the  ani- 
mosity between  the  two  nations.  That  such  anti-social  opinions 
should  exist  and  be  fostered  among  the  low  and  the  vulgar,  said 
Mirabeau,  is  not  to  me  a  subject  of  complaint ;  '  but  when  I  see 

*  ministers,  lords  of  the  realm,  and  the  heads  of  the  clergy,  ma- 

*  nifesting  and  promulgating  such  unworthy  notions, — endeavour- 
*^  ing,  with  all  their  power,  to  keep  up  the  hatred  and  spirit  of 

*  rivalship  existing  between  the  two  nations,  I  lose  all  patience.' 
He  then  cites  a  furious  anti-Gallican  philippic  from  a  sermon 
preached  before  the  House  of  Lords  by  the  then  bishop  of  St. 
David's  (Horsley),  and  adds: 


i  ce 


I  fear  not  to  ask — I  appeal  to  every  honest  man  in  England— a 
country  in  which  every  thing  that  is  good  is  excellent,  whether  the 
principles  which  dictated  the  fragment  I  have  just  quoted,  do  not  de- 
serve the  contempt  of  all  nations,  and  excite  the  horror  of  all  wise 
men? 


*  See  Eel.  Rev.  Vol.  XXIII.  p.  527. 


78  Pecchio's  Observations. 

'  Let  the  English  compare  this  incendiary  declaration  of  the  Bi* 
shop  of  St.  David's  with  the  address  of  the  Archbishop  of  Paris, 
which  was  published  at  the  same  time.  This  minister  of  the  Gospel, 
after  congratulating  his  countrymen  on  the  peace  which  had  been  pro- 
claimed, continues: — 

'  "  And  now,  my  brethren,  and  fellow  labourers,  dismiss  from  your 
minds  all  feeling  of  animosity  to  those  who  have  become  your  friends ; 
let  the  two  most  enlightened  nations  on  the  globe  set  an  example  to 
the  universe — let  us  shew,  that,  henceforth,  no  other  rivalship  shall 
exist  between  us,  save  in  effecting  the  greatest  good,  and  thus  render- 
ing mankind  happy  by  civilization."  '     Vol.  I.  pp.  127,  8. 

His  worthy  friend,  the  Professor,  listened  with  perfect  good 
humour  to  these  observations,  and  at  the  close  replied :  '  Years 

*  may  pass  away  before  the  two  nations  will  perfectly  understand 

*  each  other ;  but  the  day  must  come^  when^  in  spite  of  their 

*  rulers,  France  and  England  shall  command  all  nations  to 

*  remain  at  peace,  and  the  nations  shall  obey.'' 

A  portrait  of  Mirabeau  is  prefixed  to  these  volumes,  which 
will  not  be  thought,  however,  a  sufficient  apology  for  their  most 
exorbitant  and  unwarrantable  price.  The  whole  might  have 
been  comprised  in  a  handsome  volume  for  about  one  half  the 
charge.  If  there  exist  any  reasons  that  may  explain  this  imposi- 
tion upon  the  purchaser,  they  ought  to  have  been  stated. 

Count  Pecchio  is  known  to  the  English  public  as  the  author  of 
some  letters  on  the  Spanish  Revolution,  published  in  1823,  and 
of  a  Narrative  of  a  Tour  in  Greece,  published,  together  with  the 
Narratives  of  IVIessrs.  Emerson  and  Humphreys,  under  the  title 
of  "  A  Picture  of  Greece  in  1825."'  He  is  a  native  of  the 
North  of  Italy,  from  which  he  was  compelled  to  flee,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  share  he  took  in  the  unsuccessftil  Piedmontese  re- 
volution. He  subsequently  resided  in  Spain,  his  expulsion  from 
which  country,  he  terms  a  second  exile.  Greece  then  had  for 
some  time  the  honour  of  his  residence ;  and  now,  revolutions 
being  out  of  fashion,  England  affords  him  a  chosen  home  and  se- 
cure asylum.  The  Count  has  seen  much  of  the  world,  and  is 
therefore  well  qualified  to  form  a  comparative  estimate  of  the 
general  aspect  of  society.  He  has  made  a  few  mistakes,  which 
may  be  pardoned  to  a  foreigner.     Besides,  remarks  his  Editor, 

*  his  slips,  though  they  may  throw  no  light  on  English  character, 

*  very  often  give  us  an  insight,  the  more  valuable  from  being  un- 

*  conscious,  into  the  Italian.''  It  is  not  a  little  curious,  to  find 
the  Count  referring  his  readers,  for-.the  best  account  of  English 
politics,  statistics,  jurisprudence,  and  manners,  to  the  works  of 
foreigners.     '  My  book  \  he  modestly  says,  '  cannot  enter  into 


*  See  Eel.  Rev.  Vol.  XXV.  p.  193. 


Peccliio"'6  Observaiiojis.  79 

'  competition  with  any  other :  it  is  but  a  miscellany,  like  the  oUa 

*  podrida  of  the  Spaniards,  that  favourite  dish  of  my  favourite 

*  Sancho  Panza. 

'  Let  him  who  \^ashes  to  become  acquainted  with  English  politics, 
read  M.  de  Pradt ;  him  who  wishes  to  know  the  statistics  of  England, 
refer  to  the  work  of  Baron  Dupin.  Let  him  who  desires  to  under- 
stand the  machinery  of  the  admirable  administration  of  justice  in 
England,  consult  the  work  of  M.  Cottu.  Let  him  who  wishes  to  be- 
come familiar  with  English  manners,  read  the  elegant  descriptions  of 
the  American,  Washington  Ir\'ing,  in  his  "  Sketch  Book/*  *  But  let 
him  who  does  not  love  science  and  information  well  enough  to  read 
these  ;  who  admires  profiles  rather  than  full-lengths ;  who  reads  for 
reading  sake,  and  in  the  way  the  journals  of  the  fashions  and  the  opera 
books  are  read,  skipping,  singing,  and  yawning, — let  him,  I  say,  read 
the  following  observations/ 

After  this  candid  invitation,  it  will  be  the  reader'^s  own  fault  if 
he  is  disappointed  in  the  contents  of  these    '  semi-serious  ob- 

*  servations,**  which  are  abundantly  amusing,  and  by  no  means 
uninstructive. 

The  first  thing  which  would  strike  an  Italian  on  setting  his 
foot  in  England  in  the  month  of  October,  would  naturally  be, 

*  the  scarcity  of  sun  f  to  which,  in  common  with  all  foreign  tra- 
vellers, our  Author  ascribes  all  sorts  of  physical  and  moral 
effects. 

'  In  spite  of  Helvetius  and  Filangieri,  who  oppose  Montesquieu's 
theory  of  the  influence  of  climate,  I  could  almost  venture  to  believe, 
that,  if  the  English  are  active  in  businesij,  profoiuid  thinkers,  and  good 
fathers  of  families,  it  is  owing  to  their  having  so  little  sun.  True, 
that  with  the  false  light  by  whicli  they  are  almost  surrounded,  the  Eng- 
lish have  not  been  able  to  become  celebrated  painters ;  that  they  are 
not,  and  perhaps  never  will  be  so.  But,  in  recompense  for  this,  they 
can  work  at  the  spinning-wheel  and  the  loom  many  more  hours  than 
the  countrymen  of  Murillo  or  Riiphacl.  An  English  workman,  some 
years  ago  (before  Parliament  restricted  the  hours  of  labour  to  twelve), 
used  to  work  about  sixteen  hours  a  day*  Ortes,  the  Italian  political 
economist,  calculates  the  medium  labour  of  an  Italian  at  not  more  than 
eight  hours  a  day.  The  difference  is  greiit,  but  I  do  not  on  that  ac- 
count believe  the  statement  erroneous  ;  the  extremes  of  summer  and 
winter  (in  some  parts  of  Italy);  very  sensitive  and  irritable  nerves; 
the  beautiful  serene  sky  that  is  ever  tempting  to  an  out-door  walk  ; 
all  these  do  not  allow  the  Italian  to  give  a  long  and  steady  application 
to  labour.     There  is  nothing  of  this  kind  to  tempt  the  English  weaver 


*  Rapin  and  Delolme  might  have  been  added  to  the  list  of  the  fo- 
reign writers  who  have  employed  their  labours  in  illustrating  the  his- 
tory and  constitution  of  England ;  but  the  former  is  too  bulky  for 
modem  readers,  and  Delolme  is  gone  by. 


80  Pecchio^g  Ob$ervatiofis. 

to  abandon  his  loom.  He  is  like  one  of  those  blind  horses  which  are 
continually  turning  round  and  round  in  a  mill^  without  any  thing  being 
able  to  divert  them  from  their  unvarying  occupation. 

'  Necessity  is  the  goad  of  idleness,  and  the  constant  patron  of  in- 
dustry ;  the  Spaniard  (and  so  with  all  the  sons  of  the  sun),  who  has  no 
need  of  stockings,  of  a  neckerchief,  nor  a  coat ;  who  is  content  with  his 
cigar  and  his  gaspacho ;  who  sleeps  on  the  bare  ground,  and  who  feels 
no  curiosity,  because  he  believes  himself  the  favourite  child  of  Grod, 
placed  in  a  terrestrial  paradise  {Quien  dice  Espana,  dice  todo),  laughs 
at  fashion,  at  books,  at  voyages  and  travels,  at  luxury^  at  elegance :  he 
is  a  Diogenes  in  his  tub,  who  wants  nothing  but  the  sun.  The  indo- 
lence, the  natural  laziness,  of  the  sonthem  nations  (which  was  once 
conquered,  and  may  be  conquered  once  again,  by  education  and  politi- 
cal institutions),  is  not  a  defect  for  which  they  ought  to  be  blamed, 
any  more  than  their  sobriety  is  a  virtue  for  which  they  ought  to  be 
praised :  the  blame  or  the  merit  is  all  the  sun's.  The  Englishman,  on 
the  contrary,  receives  from  his  climate  a  multitude  of  necessities,  all 
so  many  spurs  to  industry  and  exertion.  He  has  need  of  more  sub- 
stantial food,  of  constant  tiring,  of  cravats,  double  cravats,  coats,  great- 
coats ;  tea,  brandy,  spirits ;  a  larger  wardrobe,  on  account  of  the  in- 
creased consumption  caused  by  the  smoke  and  the  wet,  &c.  &c«  Sec, 
Comfort  is  in  the  mouth  of  every  Englishman  at  every  moment ;  it  is 
the  half  of  his  life.  My  own  countrymen  make  every  effort,  and  with 
reason,  to  obtain  the  pleasures  of  the  life  to  come :  the  English, 
with  no  less  reason,  to  procure  the  pleasures  of  the  present.  The  word 
''  comfort"  is  the  source  of  the  riches  and  the  power  of  England. 

'  That  frequent  absence  of  the  sun  *  which  makes  the  artisan  more 
laborious,  renders  man  also  a  more  thinking  animal.  Who  would  not 
become  a  philosopher,  if  he  were  shut  up  in  a  house  for  so  many  hours 
by  the  inclemencies  of  the  weather,  with  a  cheerful  fire,  qniet  and  obe- 
dient servants,  a  good-humoured  wife,  and  silence  within  doors  and 
without  ?  The  profundity  of  the  English  writers  is  a  product  of  the 
climate,  as  much  as  the  iron,  the  tin,  and  the  coal  of  the  island.  The 
sun  disperses  families,  and  scatters  them  abroad ;  a  good  fire  blazing 
up  the  chimney  attracts  and  draws  them  together  again.  "  The  fa- 
mily," in  cold  countries,  is  an  equivalent  for  our  "  society"  and  our 
theatres.  It  is  one  of  the  wants  of  the  heart  and  the  intellect.  A  na- 
tional song,  which  is  heard  every  where,  from  the  splendid  stage  of 
Covent-garden  to  the  humblest  hovel  in  Scotland,  is  called  "  Home, 
sweet  Home,"  (Oh  casa!  oh  dolce  casa!)  and  home  is  truly  sweet  in 
England.  In  the  southern  countries  everything  gives  way  to  public 
places  and  public  amusements.     The  houses,  which,  for  the  most  part. 


*  The  Writer  subsequently  declares,  with  frank  sincerity,  that, 
'  when  the  sun  in  England  shines  with  all  his  lustre,  and  with  sufli- 
cient  power  to  light  up  all  the  objects  around'  (which,  however,  he 
says,  rarely  happens,)  'England  is  not  only  the  most  beautiful  country 
in  the  world,  but  a  day  of  really  fine  weather  in  England,  together 
with  its  liberty,  is  worth  ten  years  of  life  spent  under  the  azure  skies 
of  enslaved  and  enervated  countries.' 


Pecchio''s  Observafian^.  81 

only  used  for  sleeping  in,  are  often  in  bad  repair,  and  oftener  very 
rly  ifumished.  Wnere,  on  the  contrary,  domebtic  life  is  all  in  all, 
it  IS  natural  to  think  of  rendering  it  pleasant ;  hence  the  reciprocal 
respect,  the  docility,  the  agreement  of  the  members  of  a  family, 
tbe  punctuality  of  service,  the  universal  neatness,  and  the  excellence 
of  tne  furniture, — convenient,  self-moving,  and  obedient,  almost  as 
though  it  were  endowed  with  life,  like  the  ancient  manufactures  of 
Vulcan/    pp.  13-21. 

*  But  the  most  beautifiil  sun  of  England/  exclaims  the  exiled 
Count,  *  is  Liberty :  this  is  its  cornucopia !' — Next  to  the  scarcity 
of  sun  in  England,  he  was  struck,  on  his  entry  into  London,  witn 
the  extreme  contrast  which  the  British  metropolis  presents  to  that 
of  Naples,  for  instance,  in  another  respect ;  the  comparative  si- 
lence which  reigns  among  its  dense  population. 

'  Some  people  are  quite  thunderstruck  at  the  silence  which  prevails 
Mnong  the  inhabitants  of  London.  But  how  could  one  million  four 
hundred  thousand  persons  live  together  without  silence  ?  The  torrent 
of  men,  women,  and  children,  carts,  carriages,  and  horses,  from  the 
Strand  to  the  Exchange,  is  so  strong,  that  it  is  said  that  in  winter 
there  are  two  decrees  of  Fahrenheit  dilference  between  the  atmosphere 
of  this  lone  line  of  street,  and  that  of  the  West  End.  I  have  not  as- 
certained the  truth  of  this ;  but  from  the  many  avenues  there  are  to 
the  Strand,  it  is  very  likely  to  be  correct.  From  Charing  Cross  to  the 
Royal  Exchange  is  an  encyclopedia  of  the  world.  An  apparent 
anarchy  prevails,  but  without  confusion  or  disorder.  The  rules  which 
the  poet  Gkiy  lays  down  for  walking  with  safety  along  this  tract  of 
about  three  miles,  appear  to  me  unnecessary.  The  habit  of  traversing 
this  whirlpool  renders  the  passage  easy  to  every  one,  without  disputes, 
without  accidents,  without  punctilio,  as  if  there  were  no  obstacle  what- 
ever. I  suppose  it  is  the  same  thing  at  Pekin.  The  silence  then  of 
the  passengers  is  the  consequence  of  the  multiplicity  of  business.  1 
do  not  say  it  by  way  of  epigram,  but,  if  Naples  should  ever  have  a  po- 

Ealation  of  a  million  and  a  half,  it  would  be  necessary  for  even  Neapo- 
tan  windpipes  to  put  themselves  under  some  restraint !  It  is  only  in 
Spain  that  silence  is  the  companion  of  idleness  This  is  perhaps  the 
perfecticm  of  idleness ;  idleness  at  its  ne  plus  vltra, 

'  In  London  I  have  often  risen  early,  in  order  to  be  present  at  the 
spectacle  of  the  resurrection  of  a  million  and  a  half  of  people.  This 
great  monster  of  a  capital,  like  an  immense  giant  awaking,  shows  the 
first  signs  of  life  in  the  extremities.  Motion  begins  at  the  circum- 
ference, and,  by  little  and  little,  goes  on  getting  strength,  and  pushing 
towards  the  centre,  till  at  ten  o'clock  coniniences  the  full  hubbub, 
which  goes  on  continually  increasing  till  four  o'clock,  the  'Change 
hour,  it  seems  as  if  the  population  followed  the  laws  of  the  tide  until 
this  hour ;  it  now  continues  flowing  from  the  circumference  to  the  Ex- 
change: at  half-past  four,  when  the  Exchange  is  shut,  the  ebb  be- 
gins ;  and  currents  of  people,  coaches,  and  horses,  rush  from  the  Ex- 
change to  the  circumference. 

'  Among  an  industrious'  nation,  incessantly  occupied,  panting  for 

VOL.  IX. N.S.  L 


82  Peccliio's  Observations. 

riches^  man,  or  physical  force,  is  a  valuable  commodity.  Man  is  dear, 
and  it  is  therefore  expedient  to  be  very  economical  of  him.  It  is  not 
as  in  the  countries  of  indolence,  where  the  man  and  the  earth  alike 
have  little  or  no  value.  A  Turkish  Effendi,  or  gentleman,  always 
walks  about  with  a  train  of  useless  servants  at  his  heels.  In  the  same 
manner  a  Polish  nobleman,  or  a  grandee  of  Spain,  consumes  a  great 
quantity  of  men,  who  are  otherwise  unproductive.  I  was  told,  that 
tne  Duke  of  Medina  Celi  has  in  his  pay  four  hundred  servants,  and 
that  he  goes  to  the  Prado  in  a  carriage  worse  than  a  Parisian  paiache. 
It  was  the  same  in  England  when  there  was  no  foreign  commerce, 
and  no  home  manufactures.  Not  knowing  in  what  way  to  consume 
their  surplus  revenues,  the  old  English  landowner  used  to  maintain  a 
hundred,  and,  in  some  cases,  even  a  thousand  followers.  At  the  pre- 
sent day,  the  greatest  houses  have  not  more  than  ten  or  twelve  ser- 
vants ;  and,  setting  aside  the  wealthy,  who  are  always  an  exception  in 
every  nation,  and  taking  the  greatest  number,  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
in  England,  and  especially  in  London,  there  is  a  very  great  saving, 
both  of  time  and  of  servants.  But  how  can  this  be  reconciled  with 
the  loudly- vaunted  comfort  of  the  English?  Thus:  the  milk,  the 
bread,  the  butter,  the  beer,  the  fish,  the  meat,  the  newspaper,  the  let- 
ters,— all  are  brought  to  the  house  every  day,  at  the  same  hour,  with- 
out fail,  by  the  shopkeepers  and  the  postmen.  It  is  well  known  that 
all  the  street-doors  arc  kept  shut,  as  is  the  custom  in  Florence  and  the 
other  cities  of  Tuscany.  In  order  that  the  neighbourhood  should  not 
be  disturbed,  it  has  become  an  understood  thing  for  these  messengers 
to  give  a  single  rap  on  the  knocker,  or  a  single  pull  at  the  bell^  which 
communicates  with  the  underground  kitchen,  where  the  servants  are. 
There  is  another  conventual  sign  for  visits,  which  consists  in  a  rapid 
succession  of  knocks,  the  more  loud  and  noisy  according  to  the  real  or 
assumed  consequence  or  fashion  of  the  visiter.  On  this  system,  Parini 
makes  his  hero  talk  in  public  in  a  high  and  discordant  voice,  that 
every  one  may  hear  him,  and  pay  the  same  respect  to  his  accents  as  to 
those  of  "  the  great  Thunderer  ".  Even  in  London,  the  magnanimous 
heroes  of  fashion  announce  themselves  to  the  obtuse  senses  of  the  vul- 
gar with  "  echoing  blows",  like  those  of  the  hammer  of  Bronte. 

'  This  custom  requires  punctuality  in  servants,  and  an  unfiuliiig  at- 
tendance at  their  posts.  The  price  of  every  thing  is  fixed,  so  that 
there  is  no  room  for  haggling,  dispute,  or  gossip.  All  this  going  and 
coming  of  buyers  and  sellers  is  noiseless.  Many  bakers  ride  about 
London  in  vehicles  so  rapid,  elastic,  and  elegant,  that  an  Italian  dandy 
would  not  disdain  to  appear  in  one  of  them  at  the  Corso.  The  butchers 
may  be  frequently  met  with,  conveying  the  meat  to  their  distant  cus- 
tomers, mounted  on  fiery  steeds,  and  dashing  along  at  full  gallop.  A 
system  like  this  requires  inviolable  order,  and  a  scrupulous  division  of 
time.  For  this  reason  there  are  clocks  and  watches  everywhere, — on 
every  steeple,  and  sometimes  on  all  the  four  sides  of  a  steeple ;  in  the 
pocket  of  every  one ;  in  the  kitchen  of  the  lowest  journeyman.  This 
IS  a  nation  working  to  the  stroke  of  the  clock,  like  an  orchestra  play- 
ing to  the  "  time  "  of  the  leader,  or  a  regiment  marching  to  the  sound 
of  the  drum.'     pp.  3%5 — 41.  • 


Pecchio''s  Observations.  83 

*  One  shopman^  therefore^  in  London,  supplies  the  place  of  forty  or 
fifty  servanta.  .  .  .  By  this  system,  the  servants  remain  at  home  with 
nothing  to  divert  them  from  their  occujiations  .  .  It  follows,  also,  that 
an  Enelish  family  has  no  need  of  keeping  any  great  store  of  provisions 
In  the  nouse :  there  is,  in  consequence,  less  occupation  of  room,  and  less 
occasion  for  capital,  less  cure,  less  waste,  less  smell,  and  less  wear  and 
tear/ 

Our  Count  finds  the  English  Sunday,  of  course,  *  supremely 

*  dull  and  wearisome  ^  and  in  Scotland,  *  where  the  religion  of 

*  the  ferocious  Calvin  prevails ',  the  Sunday,  he  was  told,  *  is  still 

*  more  silent  and  gloomy/  Gloomy  to  an  Italian,  because  silent ; 
and  to  a  Roman  Catholic,  because  unenlivened  by  spectacle  or 
opera.  Yet,  had  Count  Pecchio  met  with  Grahame's  "  Sabbath'', 
or  with  Struthers's  "  Poor  Man's  Sabbath  ",  his  good  sense  would 
have  led  him  to  infer,  that,  although  a  holiday  is  lost  upon  the 
idle,  to  the  industrious,  repose  is  enjoyment ;  and  that  Sunday,  the 
dull  Protestant  Sunday,  ranks  in  England  among  ^  the  wants  of 

*  the  heart  and  the  intellect',  or  rather,  ministers  to  those  wants. 
Would  to  God  that  the  first  sentence  in  the  ensuing  extract  were 
quite  true ! 

*  Sunday  is,  if  possible,  obser^'cd  by  the  English,  wherever  they  may 
be.  On  that  day,  the  silence  even  bcKird  ship  is  still  more  gloomy  than 
ever ;  every  one  is  shaved,  every  one  puts  on  a  clean  shirt,  every  one 
endeavours  to  display  more  neatness  than  usual  in  his  dress.  Some 
read  a  few  pages  m  the  Bible  ;  religion  is  a  comfort  to  their  minds, 
rather  than  a  terror.  The  Englishman  has  no  other  intercessor  with 
the  Supreme  Being  than  his  own  prayers.  He  hopes  for  no  other 
miracles  than  those  which  spring  from  his  own  courage,  and  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duty.  In  a  storm,  the  Spaniard,  and  even  the  Greek, 
although  a  good  sailor,  throw  themselves  on  their  knees  before  some 
image,  to  which  a  light  is  continually  burning,  and  in  the  meantime 
the  sails  and  the  vessel  are  under  the  control  of  the  winds  and  waves  ; 
the  sighs  and  signs  of  contrition  of  the  devotees  only  serving  to  increase 
the  confusion  and  dismay.  The  Englishman,  on  the  other  hand,  ful- 
fils his  duty,  displays  all  his  firmness  of  mind  and  strength  of  body, 
struggles  with  death  even  to  the  last  moment,  and  only  when  he  has 
exhausted  in  vain  all  the  resources  of  his  skill,  and  all  the  energies  of 
his  frame,  gives  himself  up  to  his  fate,  raises  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and 
bows  to  the  will  of  Pro\'idence.  They  are  not  indeed  so  thoroughly 
devoid  of  prejudice  as  a  philosopher  of  the  eighteenth  century  ;  some 
believe  in  ghosts,  in  hobgoblins,  and  prophetic  voices  which  rise  from 
the  hollow  of  the  deep, — but  in  the  hour  of  danger  they  no  longer  re- 
collect these  illusions,  and  see  nothing  but  the  reality  before  them,  and 
see  it  without  affright."     pp.  110 — 112. 

*  We  reproach  the  English ',  remarks  this  intelligent  Observer, 
^  with  being  downcast  and  melancholy ;  but  we  ought  to  add,  that 
*gthey  are  not  querulous.  They  labour  indef&tigably  to  better 
^  theur  condition,  without  whining  and  whimpering,  and  at  the 

l2 


84  recchio''g  Ob$ervatiotis. 

*  same  time  draw  from  their  present  condition,  all  the  profitB  and 
^  pleasures  it  can  afford.^  A  few  pages  further,  we  meet  with  some 
discriminating  strictures  on  the  two  sides  of  the  picture  of  society 
given  by  Cowper  and  Crabbe.     *  Both  \  he  remarks,  *  are  ex- 

*  aggerators ;  but  poetry  is  not  history.''  The  value  set  upon 
time  in  England,  is  another  circumstance  that  forcibly  strikes  a 
foreigner;  and  more  especially  one  that  has  resided  in  Spain. 
The  contrast  between  the  two  countries  in  this  respect,  is  finrciUy 
described. 

'  Idleness  is  the  luxury  of  the  Spaniards,  and  a  great  luxnrj  it  is* 
for  it  is  all  waste.  It  is  a  universal  luxury,  wliich  is  enjoyed  by  all, 
from  the  highest  grandee  to  the  most  miserable  water-carrier.  The 
luxury,  however,  coiiiiists  in  the  spending  of  au  article  of  little  or  no 
value  in  Spain.  The  Cahtilian,  who  keeps  so  religiously  to  his  word 
when  his  honour  is  in  question^  is  never  punctual  tu  an  appointment ; 
because  an  hoi\r  more  or  less,  in  the  life  of  a  Spaniard,  is  ouly  an  hoar 
less  or  more  in  eternity.  If  you  propose  to  a  Spaniard  to  set  his  hand 
to  a  thing  at  once,  he  answers  you,  however  he  may  be  interested  in  itj 
"  To-morrow."  Fatal  to^tnorrotv,  which  is  repeated  so  often  from  day 
to  day,  till  your  patience  is  worn  out !  Fatal  to-morrow,  that  hsA 
reduced  the  kingdom,  once  seated  on  a  throne  of  gold,  and  crowned 
with  precious  stones^  to  rags  and  a  dunghill !  The  very  mantle  in 
which  the  Spaniards  wrap  themselves  up,  and  which  impedes  every 
motion  but  that  of  sleeping,  displays  their  indolence,  and  the  little 
value  they  set  on  time^  as  the  laziness  of  the  Turks  is  shown  by  their 
wide  trowsers  and  loose  slippers.  When  the  Spaniards  are  better 
taught^  more  industrious,  and  less  prejudiced,  they  will  wear  the 
mantle  no  longer.  Superstition  is  usually  the  companion  of  sloth. 
An  active  people  cannot  afford  to  pray  away  whole  days  at  church>  or 
throw  them  away  on  processions  and  pilgrimages.  An  indostrioos 
people  prefer  growing  their  "  daily  bread  "  with  their  own  hands,  to 
asking  it  thirty  or  forty  times  a  day  as  alms  from  Heaven.  When  I 
was  first  in  Spain  I  was  surprised  to  see,  that  none  of  the  lower  dasaesy 
and  but  few  of  the  more  respectable,  had  watches :  yet  it  is  natural 
that  it  should  be  so.  What  has  he  who  has  no  occasion  for  the  division 
of  time,  to  do  with  the  measure  of  it  ? '     pp.  209-12. 

*  On  the  contrary,  in  England,  Time  is  a  revenue,  a  treasure,  an 
estimable  commodity.  The  Englishman  is  not  covetous  of  money,  but 
he  is  supremely  covetous  of  time.  It  is  wonderful  how  exactly  the 
English  keep  to  their  appointments.  They  take  out  their  watch,  re- 
gulate it  by  that  of  their  friend,  and  are  punctual  at  the  place  and 
hour.  English  pronunciation  itself  seems  invented  to  save  time :  they 
eat  the  letters,  and  whistle  the  words.  Thus  Voltaire  had  some  reason 
to  say,  *'  The  English  gain  two  hours  a  day  more  than  we  do,  by  eat- 
ing their  syllables."  The  English  use  few  compliments,  because  they 
are  a  loss  of  time,  their  salute  is  a  nod,  or  at  the  most  a  corrosion  of 
the  four  monosyllables  <'  How  d'ye  do  ?  "  The  ends  of  their  letters 
always  show  more  simplicity  than  ceremony :  they  have  not  **  the 
honour  to  repeat  the  protestations  of  their  distinguished  r^ard  and 
profound  consideratiim "  to  his   ''most  illustrious  lordship/'   whoot 


Pecchio's  Observations.  85 

nwwt  humble,  most  devoted,  and  most  obsequious  servants  *'  they  ''have 
the  honour  to  be."  Their  very  language  seems  to  be  in  a  hurry;  since 
it  is  in  a  great  part  composed  of  monosyllables,  and  two  of  them,  again, 
are  often  run  into  one  :  the  great  quantity  of  monosyllables  looks  like 
an  abridged  \i'ay  of  writing,  a  kind  of  short-hand.  The  English  talk 
little,  I  suppose,  that  they  may  not  lose  time :  it  is  natural,  therefore, 
that  a  nation  which  sets  the  highest  value  upon  time,  should  make  the 
best  chronometers,  and  that  all,  even  among  the  poorer  classes,  should 
be  provided  with  watches.  The  mail-coach  guards  have  chronometers 
worth  eighty  |)oundK  sterling,  because  they  must  take  care  never  to 
arrive  five  minutes  past  the  hour  appointed.  At  the  place  of  their 
destination,  relations,  friends,  and  servants,  are  already  collected  to 
receive  postiengers  and  parcels.  When  a  machine  is  so  complicated  as 
£ngland  is,  it  is  essential  for  everything  to  be  exact,  or  the  confusion 
wunld  be  ruinous.'     pp.  213' 16. 

*  Double  an  Englishman''8  time,  and  you  double  his  riches.' 

*  How  fine  a  compliment  to  the  national  industry.'  These 
specimens  will  shew  that  Count  l^ecchio  has  studied  the  English 
cnaracter  with  no  unfavourable  result.  Some  of  his  observations 
bespeak  even  a  strong  partiality  as  well  as  no  ordinary  penetration. 
Our  fair  countrywomen  have  pleased  him  so  well,  that  he  has 
married  an  English  lady.  He  piaises  highly  the  English  system 
of  education,  that  which  prevails  among  the  better  classes;  ob- 
jecting only,  against  the  excess  of  reading  which  leaves  the  mind 
no  time  to  digest  its  food,  and the  use  of  stays !     *  The 

*  young  women  of  England  \  remarks  the  Count,  *  under  a  stormy 

*  And  inconstant  sky,  have  hearts  and  minds  peaceful  and  serene, 

*  always  equable  and  always  docile :  My  amiable  countrywomen, 

*  under  a  heaven  perpetually  smiling,  have  minds  and  hearts 

*  always  in  a  tempest.'  He  speaks  from  the  opportunities  he  has 
had,  of  judging  of  the  manners  of  ^  that  class  of  society  which  in 

*  England  is  the  best  informed,   the  most  hospitable,  the  most 

*  beneficent,  and  the  most  virtuous  of  all ;  and  which,  being  there 

*  immeasureably  more  numerous  than  in  any  other  country,  forms, 

*  80  to  speak,  the  heart  of  the  nation  \  As  to  the  higher  classes, 
he  adds,  *  they  almost  every  where  have  a  strong  resemblance  to 

*  each  other  and  model  themselves  on  the  same  code  of  caprice, 

*  etiquette,  prejudice,  and  nothingness.'  Their  manners  may  be 
learned  from  Parini, '' Don  Juan",  or  "Almack's".  May  the 
pestilence  of  foreign  manners  never  descend  lower ! 

The  Author's  observations  on  the  Opposition  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  do  credit  to  his  discernment.  At  first,  he  was  led,  he 
says,  to  regard  the  exertions  of  the  opposition  members  as  ^  the 

*  mere  professorship  of  eloquence '.     Hut  a  person  '  who  studies 

*  the  national  organization  of  England ',  soon  changes  his  opinion. 

'  In  the  first  place,  he  perceives  that  if  the  opposition  does  not  con- 
quer, it  at  least  hinders  the  enemy  (whoever  he  may  be,  liberal  or  not) 


86  Pecchio^s  Observations. 

from  abusing  his  victory,  or  consummating  an  unjust  conquest.  It  is 
like  the  dike  of  a  river,  which  cannot  assist  its  current,  but  keeps  it 
in,  and  compels  it  to  follow  its  course.  The  advantage  of  the  oppo- 
sition does  not  consist  so  much  in  the  good  that  it  effects,  as  in  the 
evil  that  it  prevents.  It  keeps  awake  the  attention,  the  patriotism, 
the  distrust  of  the  people ;  it  propagates  in  gena'al  the  right  opinions, 
it  is  the  born  protector  of  the  injured  and  the  oppressed,  the  harbinger 
of  all  improvements,  of  all  liberal  institutions.  Suppose  that,  by  acci- 
dent, the  opposition  is  composed  of  persons  in  favour  of  absolute  power  : 
to  procure  adherents,  they  will  be  obliged  to  mask  their  sentiments,  to 
hold  the  language  of  justice  and  freedom, — like  those  proud  and  ty- 
rannic Roman  patricians,  such  as  the  Apnii  and  Opimii,  who,  to  gam 
their  suffrages  for  the  consular  dignity,  uescendcd  to  mix  among  and 
to  flatter  the  common  people ;  or,  like  Dionysius,  who,  when  on  the 
throne,  crushed  out  the  very  blood  of  the  people,  and,  when  he  was 
hurled  from  it,  played  the  buffoon  to  the  populace,  and  got  drunk  in 
the  public  taverns.  But  the  action  of  the  minority  is  not  immediate. 
An  opinion  cannot  be  formed  and  propagated  and  popularized  in  a  few 
months,  nor  sometimes  in  a  few  years.  The  abolition  of  the  slave- 
trade  cost  Wilberforce  twenty  years  of  persevering  application.  Every 
year  repulsed,  every  year  he  returned  to  the  assault,  printing  pam- 
phlets, convening  public  meetings  of  philanthropists,  collecting  notices 
and  documents  on  the  barbarous  cruelties  practised  on  board  of  the 
vessels  engaged  in  the  horrible  trafHc,  and  thus  exciting  the  imagin- 
ations and  melting  the  hearts  of  his  fellow  citizens,  he  broke  at  length 
with  the  multitude  into  the  temple  of  justice  and  triumph. 

'  The  resistance  of  the  opposition  is  not  useful  to  the  nation  alone, 
but  to  the  government  itself.  Without  it,  every  administration  would 
soon  corrupt,  and  degenerate  into  infamy,  and  its  existence  would  be 
threatened,  either  with  a  slow-consuming  or  a  rapid  and  violent  de- 
struction. Napoleon,  at  the  time  that  every  will  bent  before  his,  was 
compelled,  in  order  to  get  at  the  truth,  to  take  sometimes  the  advice 
of  the  opposition  in  his  council  of  State,  rather  than  that  of  his  own 
ministers,  as  will  appear  upon  consulting  the  sittings  of  1809  respect- 
ing the  liberty  of  the  press.  In  December  1825,  when  Mr.  Brougham 
informed  the  Ministry,  that  he  intended  to  propose  a  revision  of  the 
law  of  Libel,  a  newspaper  attached  to  the  government,  which  was  then 
opposed  to  him,  expressed  much  pleasure  at  the  circumstance,  observ- 
ing, that  between  the  two  contrary  opinions  of  two  first-rate  statesmen, 
such  as  Brougham  and  the  Secretary  Peel,  there  would  be  found  a 
third,  which  would  reconcile  the  interests  of  the  liberty  of  the  Press, 
with  the  claims  of  justice  for  the  repression  of  its  licentiousness.  While 
the  nation  continues  to  prosper  under  the  principles  of  the  Ministry, 
the  opposition  does  nothmg  out  prevent  its  wandering  too  far  from  the 
path ;  but  when  it  feels  itself  in  a  state  of  suffering  and  decline,  under 
the  existing  management  of  affairs,  the  nation  finds  other  principles  at 
hand,  other  men  and  another  party  already  matured,  and  prepared  to 
guide  the  vessel  of  the  state  in  a  different  direction.  All  republics, 
both  ancient  and  modern,  have  been  perpetually  agitated  by  the  two 
contrary  winds  of  the  aristocratic  and  democratic  factions,  and  al- 
though the  former  at  every  step  passed  from  the  hands  of  one  of  these 


Peccliio''8  Ohservatiaus.  87 

parties  into  those  of  the  other,  they  went  on  prosi)er]ng  for  several 
centuries^  in  the  midst  of  the  oscillation,  produced  by  these  changes. 
In  a  free  government,  the  shock  of  two  parties,  and  the  apparent  dis- 
oordj  are  in  reality  only  a  contest  which  shall  render  the  country 
happy.  Filangieri  says  that  this  emulation  is  at  bottom  nothing  better 
than  the  love  of  power,  but  as  this  power  can  never  be  attained  nor 
preserved  except  by  promoting  the  general  good,  it  can  be  no  very 
great  concession  to  call  it  Patriotism.  The  two  opposite  forces,  whicn 
oblige  free  governments  to  run  along  a  middle  line,  are  like  those  which 
regulate  the  motions  of  the  celestial  bodies:  op]K)sition  produces  the 
same  good  effects  in  the  moral  world.  All  governments  deteriorate 
into  tyranny  without  it :  in  the  absence  of  criticism,  which  is  their  op« 
position, — what  would  literature,  and  the  arts  become  ?  We  should 
still  be  under  the  yoke  of  the  commentators  on  Aristotle ;  we  should 
still  have  the  atoms  of  Epicurus  in  physics,  and  the  crystal  heavens 
of  Ptolemy  in  astronomy.  If  the  Winklemanns,  the  Mengses,  and  the 
.l^lilizias,  had  not  kept  bad  taste  within  its  bounds,  painting  would 
have  become  a  caricature,  and  architecture  a  heap  of  crudities.  Except 
for  criticism^  the  Gongoras  would  still  hold  the  foremast  rank  in  Spain, 
the  Mariveaus  in  France,  the  Marinis  in  Italy :  without  Baretti's 
*'  literary  scourge,"  the  Arcadia  of  Rome  wouM  probably  be  still  in 
higher  esteem  than  the  French  Academy,  and  the  Italians  would  have 
become  so  many  Arcadian  shepherds,  with  their  pipes  hung  round  their 
necks.  Without  the  struggle  between  duty  ana  sacrifice,  would  there 
be  any  virtue  or  heroism  in  the  world  ?  What  is  England  itself  with 
regard  to  the  rest  of  Europe,  but  "  the  Opposition,"  which  always 
throws  its  weight  into  the  scale  on  the  side  of  the  weak  and  oppressed, 
in  order  to  preserve  the  equilibrium  ?'     pp.  141 — 45. 

*  England  the  refuge  of  the  o])prcs8ed  \  is  the  title  of  a  very 
interesting  chapter,  containing  biographical  notices  of  some 
iUustrious  foreign  exiles  in  England.   *  Justice  is  not  always  done, 

*  nor  can  it  always  be  done,  in  the  English  Parliament ;  but  in- 

*  justice  is  at  least  published  to  all  the  world  by  the  sound  of  the 

*  trumpet.'*  This  is  nobly  said,  and  may  teach  Englishmen  to 
value  more  those  glorious  institutions  which  enable  our  Senators 
to  make  their  voice  heard  to  tlic  recesses  of  the  council-chambers 
and  courts  of  despots,  and  not  wholly  without  effect. 

We  have  not  room  to  notice  the  Author's  observations  on  our 
religious  sects — Unitarians,  jMethodists,  Baptists,  Quakers.  Of 
the  Unitarians,  he  gives  as  favourable  an  account  as  would  have 
been  supplied  by  one  of  themselves.  His  information  with  regard 
to  the  rest  of  ^  the  forty-seven  sects'*,  seems  chiefly  taken  from 
that  most  imbecile  and  pernicious  production,  Evans'^s  "  Sketch  of 

*  all  Denominations.""  But  the  Author  discovers  so  much 
candour  and  liberality  of  feeling,  that  we  cannot  quarrel  with  him 
for  blunders  for  which  he  is  hardly  responsible.  Unfeigncdly  we 
wish,  that,  on  the  subject  of  religion,  he  would  take  the  only  fair 
or  satisfactory  means  of  infonning  himself,  by  consulting  the 
word  of  G(h\.     His  *'  Observations    are,  altogether,  the  most  in- 


88  Heath's  Book  of  Beauty. 

telligent,  discriminating,  and  instructive  that  we  have  ever  seen 
from  the  pen  of  a  foreigner ;  very  superior,  in  every  respect,  to  the 
superficial  remarks  of  Mirabeau,  or  even  the  vivid,  but  flippant 
delineations  of  the  '  German  Prince.' 


Art.  yi.  Heath's  Book  of  Beauty.  M.D.CCC.XXXFII.  With 
Nineteen  beautifully  finished  Engravings,  from  Drawings  by  the 
First  Artists.  By  L.  £.  L.  8vo.  Price  in  Morocco^  \L  1#.  London. 
1832. 

IJEAUTIFUL  in  many  respects  we  must  admit  this  splendid 
volume  to  be.  The  engravings  are  beautifiil  specimens  of 
the  art,  and  the  tales  are  really  beautiful  compositions.  It  is  a 
book  of  beauty,  but  not  of  beauties.  We  do  not  know  what  has 
of  late  happened  to  our  Artists,  but,  whether  it  be  owing  to  fa- 
vouritism, to  caprice,  or  to  the  adoption  of  some  new  standard  of 
beauty,  or  whether  beauty  itself  is  going  out  of  fashion,  or  what- 
ever explanation  may  be  given,  this  volume  presents  by  no  means 
the  first  instance  in  which  we  have  been  puzzled  to  account  for 
the  lavishing  of  the  powers  of  the  pencil  and  the  burin  upon  sub^ 
jects  so  unattractive,  or  at  least  so  little  conformable  to  our  ideas 
of  loveliness  and  grace.  In  the  present  volume,  out  of  the 
nineteen  female  beauties,  Gulnare  is  a  fright ;  Grace  St.  Aubyn 
might  be  lovely  with  a  nose  half  the  length  of  that  which,  not 
Nature,  but  the  artist  has  given  her ;  Laura  is  decidedly  un- 
pleasing ;  Lucy  Ashton  has  little  pretensions  to  beauty ;  Lolah  is 
m  the  sulks,  and  her  mouth  is  the  very  type  of  ilUtemper ;  Me- 
ditation might  be  styled  Affectation ;  and  Geraldine  has  more  cha- 
racter than  beauty.  The  others,  we  admit,  are  happier  specimens 
of  varied  beauty.  Leonora  is  a  lovely  blonde,  with  the  genuine 
mild,  serene  beauty  of  the  English  lady.  Rebecca  is  romantically 
beautifiil,  a  creature  of  poetry,  looking  like  a  fragile  charm  that  a 
rude  breath  might  dissolve.  The  Enchantress  has  an  oriental 
cast  of  feature  as  well  as  of  costume,  which  comports  with  her 
look  of  witchery.  Medora  is  a  Grecian  beauty.  Belinda  looks 
as  if  descended  from  a  picture  gallery  of  the  age  of  Sir  Charles 
Grandison.  The  Mask  is  a  portrait  of  a  dazzling  creature  with 
that  witching  expression  which  no  Englishman  wishes  to  see  in 
the  woman  he  esteems.  Donna  Julia,  The  Bride,  and  Madeline 
are  also,  each  in  a  different  style,  beautiful.  But  too  much  praise 
can  hardly  be  given  to  the  Artists.  As  a  scries  of  plates,  they 
are  of  the  highest  merit. 

To  these  plates,  originally  designed  as  illustrations  of  Lord 
Byron'*s  Poems,  and  Scott'*s  Novels,  Miss  Landon  has  been  em- 
ployed to  accommodate  a  series  of  talcs,  in  which  she  has  ex- 
hibited a  power  of  imagination  and  a  skill  in  composition  far  ex- 
ceeding any  thing  that  we  could  have  antici     ted  from  her  former 


Heath'^s  Bo(^  of  Beauty.  89 

modticdoiis.  She  must  pardon  us  for  saying  that  we  much  prefer 
her  prose  to  her  verse.  At  the  same  time  the  powers  of  mind  dis- 
played in  her  present  production  shew^  that  she  might  have 
written  fiir  better  poetry  had  she  not  been  misled  by  the  applause 
lavished  on  her  first  clever,  but  immature  uncultivated  efforts. 
Encouragement  is  sunshine  to  genius :  Flattery  is  the  forcing 
glass.  But  of  late  L.  £.  L.  has  seemed  to  be  pruning  her  talents, 
and  has  appeared  as  a  writer  in  a  new  character.  These  tales  are 
framed  for  the  amusement  of  the  polite  and  gay.  The  volume  is 
for  the  drawing-room  or  the  boudoir.  Of  the  general  tendency  of 
such  works  of  imagination,  we  have  often  had  occasion  to  express 
our  opinion.  But  it  is  due  to  the  present  Writer  to  bear  our 
testimony  to  the  feminine  propriety  and  chastity  of  sentiment  as 
well  as  of  style,  which  characterize  these  tales.  Of  the  elegance 
of  the  composition,  our  readers  will  judge  from  the  subjoined 
specimens. 

'  Water — the  mighty>  the  pure^  the  beautiful,  the  unfothomable— > 
where  is  thy  element  so  glorious  as  it  is  in  thine  own  domain,  the  deep 
seas  ?  What  an  infinity  of  power  is  in  the  far  Atlantic,  the  boundary 
of  two  separate  worlds^  apart  like  those  of  memory  and  of  hope !  Or 
in  the  bright  Pacific^  whose  tides  are  turned  to  gold  by  a  southern 
•an,  and  in  whose  bosom  sleep  a  thousand  isles,  each  covered  with  the 
verdure,  the  flowers,  and  the  fruit  of  Eden !  But  amid  all  thine  he« 
reditary  kingdoms,  to  which  hast  thou  given  beauty  as  a  birthright, 
lavishly  as  tnou  hast  to  thy  favourite  Mediterranean  ?  The  silence  of 
a  summer  nieht  is  now  sleeping  on  its  bosom,  where  the  bright  stars 
are  mirrored,  as  if  in  its  depths  they  had  another  home  and  another 
heaven.  A  spirit,  clearing  air  midway  between  the  two,  might  have 
panted  to  ask  which  was  sea,  and  which  was  sky.  The  shadows  of 
earth  and  earthly  things,  restine  omen-like  upon  the  waters,  alone 
shewed  which  was  the  home  and  which  the  mirror  of  the  celestial 
host. 

'  Bat  the  distant  planets  were  not  the  only  lights  reflected  from  the 
sea ;  an  illuminated  villa  upon  the  extreme  point  of  a  small  rising  on 
the  coast,  flung  down  the  radiance  from  a  thousand  lamps.  From  the 
terrace  came  tiie  breath  of  the  orange-plants,  whose  white  flowers  were 
turned  to  silver  in  the  light  which  fell  on  them  from  the  windows. 
Within  the  halls  were  assembled  the  fdrest  and  noblest  of  Sicily. 

•  •  •  •  *  '  A  king,  or  more,  the  Athenian  Pericles, 
might  have  welcomed  his  most  favoured  guests  in  such  a  chamber. 
The  walls  were  painted  in  fresco,  as  artists  paint  whose  present  is  a 
dream  of  beauty,  and  whose  future  is  an  immortality.  Each  fresco 
was  a  scene  in  Arcadia :  and  the  nymphs  who  were  there  gathering 
their  harvest  of  roses,  were  only  less  lovely  than  the  Sicilian  maidens 
that  flitted  past.'     pp.  1,  2. 

'  Somerset  House  conveys  the  idea  of  a  Venetian  palace ;  its  Co* 
rinthian  pillars,  its  walls  rising  from  the  waters,  its  deep  arches,  fitting 
harbour  for  the  dark  gondola,  the  lion  sculptured  in  the  carved  arms— 
all  realises  the  picture  which  the  mind  has  of  those  marble  ho^e 

vol*.  IX. — M.S.  M 


90  Heath's  Book  of  Beauty. 

where  the  Foscarini  and  the  Donati  dwelt,  in  those  days  when  Venice 
was  at  her  height  of  mystery  and  magnificence.  The  other  side  is,  on 
the  contrary,  just  the  image  of  a  Dutch  town  ;  the  masses  of  floating 
planks,  the  low  tile-covered  buildings,  the  crowded  warehouses — mean, 
dingy,  but  full  of  wealth  and  industry —are  the  exact  semblance  of 
the  towns  which  like  those  of  the  haughty  bride  of  the  Adriatic,  rose 
from  the  very  bosom  of  the  deep — Amsterdam  and  Venice.  The  his- 
tory of  the  Italians  is  picturesque  and  chivalric,  but  that  of  the  Dutch 
has  always  seemed  to  me  the  beau-ideal  of  honourable  industry,  ra- 
tional exertion,  generally  enjoyed  liberty,  and  all  strong  in  more  than 
one  brave  defence.  He  does  not  deserve  to  read  history,  who  does  not 
enjoy  the  gallant  manner  in  which  they  beat  back  Louis  XIV. 

'  "  The  two  banks  of  the  river  embody  the  English  nation,"  thought 
Charles ;  "  there  is  its  magnificence  and  its  poetry,  its  terraces,  its 
pillars,  and  its  carved  emblazonings  ;  and  on  the  other  is  its  trade,  its 
industry,  its  warehouses,  and  their  many  signs  of  skill  and  toil.  Ah  ! 
the  sun  is  rising  over  them,  as  if  in  encouragement.  I  here  take  the 
last  lesson  of  my  destiny.  I  have  chosen  the  wrong  side  of  the  river 
— forced  upon  exertion,  what  had  I  to  do  with  the  poetry  of  life  ?  " 

*  The  river  became  at  every  instant  more  beautiful ;  long  lines  of 
crimson  light  trembled  in  the  stream  ;  fifty  painted  spires  glittered  in 
the  bright  air,  each  marking  one  of  those  sacred  fanes  where  the  dead 
find  a  hallowed  rest,  and  the  living  a  hallowed  hope.  In  the  midst 
arose  the  giant  dome  of  St.  Paul's — ^a  mighty  shrine,  fit  for  the  thanks- 
giving of  a  mighty  people.  As  yet,  the  many  houses  around  lay  in 
unbroken  repose ;  the  gardens  of  the  Temple  looked  green  and  quiet  as 
if  for  away  in  some  lunely  valley  ;  and  the  few  solitary  trees  scattered 
among  the  houses  seemed  to  drink  the  fresh  morning  air,  and  rejoice. 

*''How  strong  is  the  love  of  the  country  in  all  indwellers  of  towns!" 
exclaimed  Charles.  "  How  many  creepers,  shutting  out  the  dark  wall, 
can  I  see  from  this  spot !  how  many  pots  of  bright-coloured  and  sweet- 
scented  plants  are  carefully  nursed  in  windows,  which,  but  for  them, 
would  be  dreary  indeed !  And  yet,  even  here,  is  that  wretched  in- 
equality in  which  fate  delights  alike  in  the  animate  and  inanimate 
world.  VVhat  have  those  miserable  trees  and  shrubs  done,  that  they 
should  thus  be  surrounded  by  an  unnatural  world  of  brick, — ^the  air, 
which  is  their  life,  close  and  poisoned,  and  the  very  rain,  which  should 
refresh  them,  but  washing  down  the  soot  and  dust  from  the  roofs 
above  ;  and  all  this,  when  so  many  of  their  race  flourish  in  the  glad 
and  open  fields,  their  free  branches  spreading  to  the  morning  dews  and 
the  summer  showers,  while  the  earliest  growth  of  violets  springs  be- 
neath their  shade.' " 

•  He  turned  discontentedly  to  the  other  side  of  the  bridge. 

'  "  Beautiful !  "  was  his  involuntary  ejaculation.  The  waves  were 
freighted  as  if  with  Tyrian  purple,  so  rich  was  the  sky  which  they 
mirrored  ;  the  graceful  arches  of  Westminster  Bridge  stretched  lightly 
across,  and,  shining  like  alabaster,  rose  the  carved  walls  of  the  fine  old 
Abbey,  where  sleep  the  noblest  of  England's  dead.  Honour  to  the 
glorious  past ! — ^how  it  honoured  us  !  Once  we  were  the  future,  and 
how  much  was  done  for  our  sake ! — The  contrast  between  above  and 
])elow  the  bridge  is  very  striking.     Below,  all  seems  for  use,  except 


Fables,  91 

Somerset  Honae— 4ind  even  that,  when  we  think,  is  but  a  superb 
office— and  the  Temple  gardens:  all  is  crowded,  dingy,  and  commer- 
cial. Above,  wealth  has  arrived  at  luxury  ;  and  the  grounds  behind 
Whitehall,  the  large  and  ornamental  houses^  have  ail  the  outward 
signs  of  rank  and  riches. 

^  Charles  turned  sullenly  from  them,  and  watched  the  boats  now 
floating  with  the  tide.  As  yet  few  were  in  motion  ;  the  huse  barges 
rested  by  the  banks,  but  two  or  three  colliers  came  on  with  their  large 
black  sails^  and  darkening  the  glistening  river  as  they  passed.  At 
this  moment,  the  sweet  chimes  of  St.  Bride  struck  five,  and  the  sound 
was  immediately  repeated  by  the  many  clocks  on  every  side :  for  an 
instant^  the  air  was  filled  with  music. 

* "  Curious  it  is,"  murmured  our  hero,  "  that  everv  hour  of  our  day 
is  repeated  from  m3rTiad  chimes,  and  yet  how  rarely  do  we  attend  to 
the  clock  striking!  Alas!  how  emblematic  is  this  of  the  way  in  which 
we  n^ect  the  many  signs  of  time  !  How  terrible,  when  we  think  of 
what  Time  may  achieve,  is  the  manner  in  which  we  waste  it !  At  the 
end  of  every  man's  life,  at  least  three-quarters  of  the  mighty  element 
of  which  tnat  life  was  composed,  will  be  found  void — lost — nay,  ut- 
terly foreotten  !  And  yet  that  time,  laboured  and  husbanded,  might 
have  built  palaces,  gathered  wealth,  and,  still  greater,  made  an  im- 
perishable name.' 


t»  > 


Art.  Yll. — 1.  Fifiy-one  original  Fables,  with  Morals  and  Ethical 
Index,  embellished  with  Eighty-five  original  Designs,  by  R. 
Cruickshank:  engraved  on  Wood.  Also,  a  Translation  of  Plu- 
tarch's Banquet  of  the  Seven  Sages,  revised  for  this  Work.  8vo. 
pp.  251.     Price  12^.     London,  1833. 

2.  Flowers  of  Fable ;  culled  from  Epictetus,  Croxall,  Dodsley,  Gay, 
Cowper,  Pope,  Moore,  Merrick,  Denis,  and  Tapner ;  with  original 
Translations  from  La  Fontaine,  Krasicki,  Herder,  Gellert,  Les- 
sing,  Pignotti,  and  others :  the  whole  selected  for  the  Instruction 
of  Youth,  and  pruned  of  all  objectionable  Matter.  Embellished 
with  One  Hundred  and  Fifty  Engravings  on  Wood.  18mo. 
pp.  352.     Price  5^.     London,  1832. 

3.  Moral  Fables  and  Parables.  By  Ingram  Cobbin,  M.A.  24mo. 
pp.  167.     Price  2s.    London,  1832. 

A  N  original  fable  is  a  novelty ;  and  Dean  Swift,  who  could 
"^  imitate  almost  any  style,  confesses,  in  a  letter  to  Gay,  that 
he  could  never  succeed  in  a  fable.  Mr.  Critbannah,  the  Author 
of  the  first  of  these  publications,  modestly  states,  that  ^  if  per- 

*  adventure  five  out  of  his  fifty  should  prove  worthy  of  the  kiiow- 

*  ledge  of  posterity,  his  literary  ambition  will  be  satisfied.'  Pos- 
terity,  wc  cannot  answer  for ;  but  he  has  taken  the  best  possible 
method  of  gaining  the  favour  of  Postcrity'^s  worshipful  predeces- 
sor, the  public,  by  employing  Mr.  R.  Cruickshank  to  illustrate 
these  fi&bles  by  some  extremely  clever  and  humorous  designs,  ex- 

M  2 


93  Fables. 

cellently  cut  on  wood*  We  should  wish  to  pick  out  one  of  tbe 
five  best,  if  possible,  but  are  not  sure  whether  the  Author  would 
fix  upon  the  following  as  one. 

'  FABLE  XVII. 

*  THE   THISTLE   AND   THE   WHEAT. 

^  *'  What  an  onanned^  pusillanimous^  humble  being  art  thou  V  said 
a  Thistle  to  a  blade  of  Wheat ;  "  without  a  wei^Mn  to  repulse  an 
enemjj  and  contented  to  keep  the  benefit  of  thy  acquirements  within  a 
circumscribed  space.  Why  dost  thou  not  make  a  bustle  in  the  world 
as  I  do,  keeping  every  one  at  bay,  and  when  I  choose,  disseminating 
my  opinions  East,  West,  North,  and  South  ?**  "  I  am  not ",  replied 
the  Wheat,  "  aware  of  having  any  enemies ;  and  therefore  need  no 
weapon  of  defence.  If  I  possess  cultivated  abilities,  I  am  satisfied  to 
comfort  and  instruct  my  immediate  neighbourhood  therewith^  and  mv 
instructions  are  received  cordially.  Thou  needest  not  to  pride  thyself 
on  spreading  afar  thy  opinions,  since  thy  neighbours  wish  not  for 
them ;  and,  for  my  own  part,  I  am  indinea  to  believe  that,  wherever 
thy  wild  doctrines  take  root,  they  invariably  prove  a  curse." ' 

Lest  we  should  have  £uled  to  choose  aright,  we  will  make  room 
f<Nr  another  specimen. 

'FABLE  XXXIII. 

*  THE   COW  AND  THE   GOAT. 

'  A  Cow  was  grazing  in  a  rich  meadow,  when  raising  her  head,  she 
observed  a  Goat  tearing  some  ivy  from  a  tree  that  grew  hard  by.  In- 
terested for  his  welfiEire,  "  Desist ",  said  she,  '*  from  browsing  on  those 
poisonous  leaves,  and  partake  with  me  of  this  delicious  herbage."  To 
this  warning  the  Goat  paid  no  attention,  but  continued  to  eat.  At 
last,  the  Cow  thought  proper,  in  kindness,  to  employ  her  superior 
strength,  and  drove  him  away.  "  I  doubt  not ",  said  the  Gkwt,  "  that 
your  intentions  are  good>  ana  that  you  consider  you  are  doing  me  a 
personal  favour  ;~as  such,  I  give  you  credit  for  your  good  wills  but 
permit  me  to  tell  you  that  your  solicitude  savours  too  much  of  the 
powerful  to  be,  under  any  circumstances,  convincing ,  and  that  in  this 
mstance,  founded  as  it  is  in  ignorance  of  what  is  wholesome  Hn  me 
and  delicious  to  my  palate^  it  is  absurdly  intrusive." ' 

We  have  not  room  to  insert  the  Moral.  A  high  tone  of  moral 
sentiment  pervades  the  work,  and  the  Author^s  object  has  eri- 
dently  been  to  promote  the  improvement  of  his  readers. 

The  Flowers  of  Fable  deserves  high  praise,  as  well  fot  its  ex- 
cellent design  as  for  its  tasteful  execution.  Most  of  the  collec- 
tions of  Fables  which  find  their  way  into  schools,  and  into  the 
hands  of  young  persons,  on  the  strength  of  their  supposed  hano- 
lessness  and  prescriptive  reputation,  contain  many  fables  of  very 
doubtful  tendency,  inculcating  craft,  selfishness,  or  expediency,* 


Fables.  93 

or  marked  by  other  glaring  improprieties.  In  the  present  collec- 
tion, drawn  from  a  great  variety  of  sources,  great  care  has  been 
taken,  both  in  the  selection,  and  in  the  exclusion  of  all  objection- 
able expressions.  The  dull,  lengthy  *  applications  ^  of  Croxall 
and  other  prosing  commentators,  have  been  discarded,  and  the 
spirit  of  the  fable  is  indicated  by  a  brief  sentence  or  a  few  lines 
of  verse,  or  by  the  introduction  of  an  engraved  tail-piece  which 
aims  at  delineating  the  fact,  while  the  fable  narrates  the  fiction. 
Such  is  the  plan  of  the  volume.  In  a  collection  of  this  descrip- 
tion, little  novels  is  to  be  looked  for ;  but  the  fables  from  tne 
PoliiBh  of  KrasicKi  are  new  to  us,  and  we  shall  transcribe  one  as 
•  specimen.  We  regret  that  we  cannot  give  a  specimen  of  the 
wood  engravings,  which  add  not  a  little  to  the  attractiveness  of 
this  nice  little  book. 


'  Thb  Bbook  and  the  Fountain. 

'  A  Fountain  varied  gambols  played. 
Close  by  an  humble  brook ; 
While  gentlv  murmuring  through  the  glade. 
Its  peaceml  course  it  took. 

'  Perhaps  it  gave  one  envious  gaze 
Upon  the  Fountain's  height ; 
While  glittering  in  the  morning  rays. 
Pre-eminently  bright. 

'  In  all  the  colours  of  the  sky 
Alternately  it  shone : 
The  Brook  observed  it  with  a  sigh. 
But  quielly  rolled  on. 

'  The  owner  of  the  Fountain  died ; 

Neglect  soon  brought  decay ; 
The  bursting  pipes  were  ill  supplied ; 
The  Fountam  ceased  to  play. 

'  But  still  the  Brook  its  peaceful  course 

Ck>ntinued  to  pursue; 
Her  ample,  inexhausted  source 
From  Nature's  fount  she  drew. 

' "  Now,"  said  the  Brook,  "  I  bless  my  fate. 
My  shewy  rival  gone ; 
Contented  in  its  native  state. 
My  little  stream  rolls  on. 

' "  And  all  the  world  has  cause,  indeed. 
To  own  with  grateful  heart. 
How  much  great  Nature's  works  excel 
The  feeble  works  of  art.' 


*  *  * 


94  Notice, 

Mr.  Cobbin''s  modest  labours  are  designed  for  the  benefit  and 
amusement  of  ^  infant  minds.**  Most  of  them  are  illustrative  of 
the  real  habits  of  the  birds  or  animals  which  are  introduccKl ;  and 
they  are  well  adapted  by  their  simple  style  for  the  youngest 
readers.     We  must  give  a  specimen. 

'FABLE   XXV. 

*  THE    FALLING    KITE. 

'  A  Kite  having  risen  to  a  very  great  height,  moved  in  the  air  as 
stately  as  a  prince,  and  looked  down  with  much  contempt  on  all 
below.  "  What  a  superior  being  I  am  now !"  said  the  Kite ;  "  who 
has  ever  ascended  so  high  as  I  have  ?  What  a  poor  grovelling  set  of 
beings  are  all  those  beneath  me !  I  despise  them."  And  then  he 
shook  his  head  in  derision ;  and  then  he  wagged  his  tail ;  and  again 
he  steered  along  with  so  much  state  as  if  the  air  were  all  his  own, 
and  as  if  every  thing  must  make  way  before  him  ;  when  suddenly  the 
string  broke,  and  down  fell  the  kite  with  greater  haste  than  he  as- 
cended, and  was  greatly  hurt  in  the  fall.' 


NOTICE. 

Art.  VIII.  The  Englishman's  Almanack;  or.  Daily  Calendar  of 
General  Information  for  the  United  Kingdom,  for  the  Year  of  Our 
Lord  1833.  Containing,  with  a  Complete  Calendar  of  the  Year,  in- 
cluding the  Revolutions  of  the  Heavenly  Bodies,  Times  of  High 
Water,  Anniversaries,  and  Historical  Memoranda,  Statistic^  of 
English  Counties  ;  Copious  Tables  of  the  Population  of  Different 
Districts  in  England,  shewing  the  Proportion  of  Population  to 
Acre,  and  of  Crime  to  Population,  &c.  &c.  The  Jewish  and  Ma* 
hometan  Calendars :  Lists  of  the  Peers,  the  Ministry,  Corporation 
of  London,  Bankers,  &c.,  the  New  Duties  on  Imported  Gkx)da, 
the  Expenditure  for  1833  ;  the  Colonies,  &c.  And  a  Statement 
of  the  Representation  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  as  Established 
by  the  Reform  Act,  with  Valuable  Particulars  of  that  Law. 
18mo.     2s.  6d.  stitched. 

Among  the  Annuals,  those  which  lay  claim  to  the  most  venerable  an- 
tiquity,— those  which  interest  all  readers,  and  speak  a  language  intel- 
ligible to  all  nations,  the  Almanacks,  ought  not  to  be  overlooked-  It 
is  indeed  only  of  late  that  they  have  assumed  a  literary  character, — 
that  they  have  fallen  in  with  the  march  of  intellect.  Some  of  our 
Almanacks  have  long  supported  a  scientific  reputation.  We  have  be- 
fore us  the  Eighty-fourth  impression  of  Wliite*s  Ephemeris  or  '  Celes- 
tial Atlas',  edited  by  Dr.  Olinthus  Gregory,  our  best  astronomical  Al- 
manack. The  Lady's  Diary,  singularly  enough,  not  less  than  the 
Gentleman's  Diary,  has  been  distinguished  by  its  mathematical  as  well 
as  enigmatic  lore.  The  Englishman's  Almanack  is  a  younger  compe- 
titor ibr  public  favour.     The  quantity  and  value  of  statistioil  informa- 


Literary  Intelligence,  95 

tion  which  it  contains,  chiefly  in  a  tabular  furm,  and  drawn  from  par* 
liamentary  documents,  would  have  rendered  it,  a  few  years  ago,  a  literary 
curiosity.  The  art  of  compression  is  now  carried  to  such  perfection, 
that  we  have  ceased  to  wonder  at  such  displays  of  ingenuity ;  but 
we  must  fairly  say,  that  the  Proprietors  of  this  Almanack  deserve  well 
of  the  public  for  the  pains  they  have  bestowed  on  its  compilation. 
The  title  page  exhibits  a  general  view  of  its  contents,  which  are  not 
more  multifarious  than  intrinsically  useful. 


Art.  IX.     LITERARY  INTELLIGENCE. 

The  Cabinet  Annual  Register,  and  Historical,  Political,  Biogra- 
phical, and  Miscellaneous  Chronicle  of  1832,  is  announced  for  public- 
ation on  the  1st  of  February  next,  with  additional  claims  to  public 
favour  and  patronage. 

Preparing  for  publication  by  subscription,  A  History  of  Protestant 
Nonconformity  in  the  County  of  York.  By  the  Rev.  Thomas  Scales, 
of  Leeds,  Author  of  **  Principles  of  Dissent."  The  object  of  the  Au- 
thor is,  to  trace  the  origin,  progress,  and  present  state  of  all  the  So- 
cieties of  the  Three  Denominations  in  each  of  the  Three  Ridings,  with 
memoirs  of  their  successive  pastors.  To  be  comprised  in  two  large 
volumes,  8vo.     Subscribers'  names  are  solicited. 

On  the  Ist  of  January  will  be  published,  price  one  penny.  The  Pro- 
testant Dissenter's  Juvenile  Magazine. 

A  Prospectus  is  issued  of  a  splendid  Periodical,  under  the  title  of 
Finden's  Gallery  of  the  Graces;  to  consist  of  a  s<;ries  of  Portrait 
Sketches,  designed  to  exhibit,  in  its  various  forms  of  female  loveliness, 
the  spirit  of  beauty.  The  whole  to  be  engraved  from  original  pic- 
tnres,  under  the  superintendence  of  W.  and  E.  Finden,  and  accom- 
panied by  poetical  illustrations  from  the  pen  of  T.  K.  Hervcy,  Esq. 

A  new  edition  (the  third  thousand)  of  "  Saturday  Evening," 
by  the  Author  of  "  the  Natural  History  of  Enthusiasm  "  ;  and  a  sixth 
e^tion  of  the  Natural  History  of  Enthusiasm,  are  now  ready* 

In  the  press,  and  shortly  will  be  published.  Memorials  of  the  Pro- 
fessional Life  and  Times  of  Sir  William  Penii  Knight,  Admiral  and 
General  of  the  Fleet  during  the  interregnum,  -A.dmiral  and  Commis- 
sioner of  the  Admiralty  and  Navy  after  the  Restoration  from  1644 
to  1670.     In  2  VoL*.  8vo.     By  Granville  Penn,  Esq. 

Also,  edited  by  the  same  Author,  The  Character  of  a  Trimmer  ;— 
His  opinion  of — Ist.  Laws  and  Government  ; — 2d.  Protestant  Reli- 
gion ; — 3d.  The  Papists  ; — 4th.  Foreign  Affairs.  By  the  Honour- 
able Sir  W.  Coventry,  Knight.     First  printed  in  1G87« 

The  Seasons. — Stories  for  very  young  Children.  (Winter.)  By 
the  author  of  **  Conversations  on  Chemistry,"  &c  &c. 


96 


Works  recently  pttbUshed. 


Nearly  ready  for  publication.  In  2  vols.  8vo.  A  View  of  the  Early 
Parisian  Greek  Press;  including  the  Lives  of  the  Stephani  or  Estiennes, 
Notices  of  the  other  Contemporary  Greek  Printers  of  Paris,  and  varioos 

Sirticulars  of  the  Literary  and  Ecclesiastical  History  of  their  Times, 
y  the  Rey.  W.  Parr  Greswell,  Author  of  '*  Memoirs  of  Politian/'  &c. 
and  of  "  Annals  of  Parisian  Typography."  (Oxford :  printed  at  the 
Uniyersity  Press,  for  !>.  A.  TallKiys.)  The  above  work  (in  which  it 
has  been  the  author's  object  to  combine  literary  history  with  biblio- 
graphy) contains  extensive  biographies  of  Robert  and  of  Henry  Ste- 
phens, and  a  vindication  of  the  former  of  those  celebrated  individuals 
from  the  charges  alleged  against  him  by  Michaelis  and  Mr.  Porson. 


Art.  X.     WORKS  RECENTLY  PUBLISHED. 


BIBLIOGEAPUr. 

Bibliothect  Scoto-Celtica ;  or  an  Ac- 
ooont  of  all  the  Books  which  have  been 
printed  in  the  Gaelic  Language ;  with  Bib- 
liographical and  Biographical  Notices.  By 
John  Rdd.  8to.  I2t,  extra  cloth  boards. 
A  few  cwpHoi  on  Imperial  Writing  Paper, 
price  A/L  5s. 

mSCXLLANIOUS. 

Fifty-one  Original  Fables,  with  Morals 
and  Ethical  Index.  Embellished  with  eighty- 
five  Original  Designs  by  R.  Cruickshank. 
Engrav^  on  Wood.  Also  a  Translation 
of  Plutarch's  Banquet  of  the  Seven  Sages, 
revised  for  this  Work.  8vo.  I2s,  in  cloth, 
or  14s.  in  silk. 

The  Apiarian*s  Guide ;  containing  prac- 
tical directions  for  the  Management  of  Bees, 
upon  the  Depriving  System.  By  J.  H. 
Payne,  Author  of  **  The'  Cottager's  Guide.** 

THCOLOGT. 

The  Works  of  Robert  Hall,  A.M.;  with 
a  brief  Memoir  of  his  LAfe.  By  Dr.  Gre- 
gory; and  Observations  on  his  Character 
as  a  Preacher.  By  John  Foster.  Pub- 
lished under  the  superintendence  of  Olin- 
thus  Gregory,  LL.D.  F.R.A.S.,  Professor 
of  Mathematics  in  the  Royal  Military  Aca- 
demy.  Vol  VI.  (pp.  708,  and  Portrait)  1 6s. 

The  Sacred  Trust  A  Charge  delivered 
at  the  ordination  of  the  Rev.  T.  Atkin- 
son, over  the  Churcii  assembling  at  Houn- 
slow,  Middlesex.  On  the  2d  of  Oct  1 838. 
By  Andrew  Reed.     8vo.     Is. 

The  Official  Glory  of  the  Son  of  God 


and  the  Universal  Headship  of  Christ  By 
John  Jefierson.     ISmo. 

A  Sermon  preached  on  the  Death  of 
William  M*Gavin,  Esq.  By  the  Rev.  Gre- 
vitle  Ewing.  12mo.  Is.  Bound  in  cloth, 
Is.6<i. 

Counsels  to  Controversialists;  or,  the 
Temper  of  Mind  in  which  Religious  and 
Political  Controversy  ought  to  be  main- 
tained. A  Sermon  preached  before  the 
Monthly  Meeting  of  Congre^tional  Mi- 
nistera  and  Churches,  at  New  Broad  Street 
Meeting-House,  on  Thursday,  Nov.  6tli, 
1831.     By  John  Morison,  D.D.    6d. 

A  Key  to  the  Pictorial  and  Geographical 
Chart  displaying  at  one  View  the  Rise  and 
Progress  of  the  Evangelical  or  Christian 
Dispensation,  from  the  Commencement  of 
the  Gospel  Narrative  to  the  Ascension  of 
Jesus  Christ  Arranged,  by  Permisdon, 
according  to  Greswell's  **  Humonia  Evan- 
gelica.**  BylLMimpriss,  price  Si.  lSs.6<i. 
on  rollers. 

*««  Of  the  Chart  itself,  notice  will  be  taken 
in  our  next  Number. 

TBAVSLSi 

Six  Weeks  on  the  Loire^  with  a  Peep  into 
La  Vendee ;  a  route  whtcb,  in  addition  to 
the  Beauties  of  Scenery  it  must  always 
command,  derives  a  political  interest,  at  ^e 
present  moment  from  the  circumstance  of 
its  including  many  of  the  scenes  in  which 
the  hazardous  enterprises  and  **  hair-breadth 
escapes**  of  the  Duchesse  de  Bern  have 
taken  place.    Sto.    PUtes. 


THE 


ECLECTIC    REVIEW, 


For  FEBRUARY,  1833. 


Art.  I.  The  History  of  England.  By  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  James 
Mackintosh,  LL.D.  M.P.  Volume  the  Thi/d.  (Lardner's  Ca- 
binet Cydopeedia,  Vol.  xxxvii.)  Fcap.  8vo.  pp.  xlii.  368.  Lon- 
don, 1^. 

<  CIR  James  Mackintosh  had  proceeded  to  the  211th  page  of 
^^  *  this  third  volume  of  his  History  of  England,  when  litera- 

*  ture  and  his  country  were  deprived  of  him  by  his  lamented 

*  death.*^  A  melancholy  interest  attaches  to  this  portion  of  his 
unfinished  labours ;  and  we  avail  ourselves  of  the  opportunity,  to 
attempt,  with  the  aid  of  two  well  written  notices  of  his  life  and 
writing,  now  before  us  *,  a  brief  memoir  of  a  man  who  united  in 
no  ordinary  decree  the  qualities,  rarely  associated,  of  the  philo- 
sopher, the  jurist,  the  forensic  orator,  and  the  man  of  letters. 

The  father  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh  was  a  captain  in  the  army, 
whose  life  was  chiefly  spent  in  foreign  and  garrison  service. 
James,  the  eldest  son,  was  bom  at  Alldowrie  in  tne  county  of  In- 
remess,  on  the  24th  of  October,  1765.  For  his  early  instruction 
and  discipline,  he  was  greatly  indebted  to  the  superintending  care 
of  an  excellent  grandmother,  upon  whom  the  charge  of  him  cniefly 
devolved.  He  was  afterwards  placed  at  the  school  of  Mr.  Stalker, 
at  Fortrose  in  Rosshire,  where  his  talents  were  so  far  elicited  as 
to  encourage  his  friends  to  determine  on  sending  him  to  college, 
with  a  view  to  his  being  qualified  for  some  liberal  profession.  He 
was  accordingly  placed  at  King's  College,  Aberdeen,  under  Mr. 
Leslie,  where  he  soon  distinguished  himself  by  his  proficiency  in 

♦  The  Annual  Biography  and  Obituary.   1833.  Vol.  xvii.  Art.  X. 

North  American  Review.  No.  lxxvii.  Art.  Sir  James  Mackin^ 
tosh.  The  writer  of  this  last  article  was  introduced  to  Sir  James,  when 
on  a  visit  to  London  in  1817>  and  during  that  and  some  subsequent 
visits,  enjoyed,  he  says,  a  good  deal  of  his  society. 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  N 


98  Sir  James  Mackintosh. 

Greek  and  mathematics ;  and  it  was  there,  when  in  his  eighteenth 
year,  that  he  first  formed  an  acquaintance  and  close  intimacy 
with  that  eminent  friend  of  whom  he  had  undertaken  to  be  the 
biographer,  when  his  own  death  prevented  his  paying  that  tribute 
to  his  memory.  Mr.  Hall  was  about  a  year  and  a  half  older  than 
Sir  James  Mackintosh.  Their  tastes,  at  the  commencement  of 
their  intercourse,  were  widely  different ;  and  upk)n  some  most  im- 
portant topics  of  inquiry,  there  was  little  or  no  congeniality  of 
sentiment  between  them.     But  ^  the  substratum  of  tneir  minds 

*  seemed  of  the  same  cast  ** ;  and  upon  this.  Sir  James  himself 
thought,  their  mutual  friendship  was  founded.  He  became  at- 
tached to  Mr.  Hall,  he  said,  '  because  he  could  not  help  it  \  He 
was  *  fascinated  by  his  brilliancy  and  acumen,  in  love  with  his 

*  cordiality  and  ardour,  and  awe-struck  by  the  transparency  of 

*  his  conduct  and  the  purity  of  his  principles.^  We  cannot  re- 
frain from  forestalling  our  notice  of  Dr.  Gregory'^s  Memoir  of  Mr. 
Hall,  by  transcribing  from  it  the  following  paragraph,  describing 
the  intimacy  of  these  two  distinguished  class-mates. 

'  They  read  together;  they  sat  together  at  lecture,  if  possible;  they 
walked  together.  In  their  joint  studies,  they  read  much  of  Xenophon 
and  Herodotus,  and  more  of  Plato ;  and  so  well  was  all  this  known,  ex- 
citing admiration  in  some,  in  others  envy,  that  it  was  not  unusual,  as 
they  went  along,  for  their  class-fellows  to  point  at  them,  and  say, 
*'  There  go  Plato  and  Herodotus  ".  But  the  arena  in  which  they  met 
most  frequently,  was  that  of  morals  and  metaphysics,  furnishing  to- 
pics of  incessant  disputation.  After  having  sharpened  their  weapons 
by  reading,  they  often  repaired  to  the  spacious  sands  upon  the  sea- 
shore, and  still  more  frequently  to  the  picturesque  scenery  on  the 
banks  of  the  Don,  above  the  old  town,  to  discuss  with  eagemeM  the 
various  subjects  to  which  their  attention  had  been  directed.  There 
was  scarcely  an  important  position  in  Berkeley's  Minute  Philonpher, 
in  Butler's  Analogy,  or  in  Edwards  on  the  Will,  over  which  they  had 
not  thus  debated  with  the  utmost  intensity.  Night  after  night,  nay, 
month  after  month,  for  two  sessions,  they  met  only  to  study  or  to  di»- 

Imte ;  yet  no  unkindly  feeling  ensued.  The  process  seemed  rather, 
ike  blows  in  that  of  welding  iron,  to  knit  them  closer  together.  Sir 
James  said,  that  his  companion,  as  well  as  himself,  often  contended  fiir 
victory ;  yet  never,  so  far  as  he  could  then  judge,  did  either  make  a 
voluntary  sacrifice  of  truth,  or  stoop  to  draw  to  and  fro  the  serra  Xoyo- 
fxaxici^,  as  is  too  often  the  case  with  ordinary  controvertists.  From 
these  discussions,  and  from  subsequent  meditation  noon  them.  Sir 
James  learned  more,  as  to  principles,  (such,  at  least,  he  assured  me^ 
was  his  deliberate  conviction,)  than  from  all  the  books  he  ever  read- 
On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Hall  through  life  reiterated  his  persuasion, 
that  his  friend  possessed  an  intellect  more  analogous  to  that  of  Baoon, 
than  any  person  of  modern  times ;  and  that  if  he  had  devoted  his 
powerful  understanding  to  metaphysics,  instead  of  law  and  politics,  he 
would  have  thrown  an  unusual  light  upon  that  intricate  but  valuable 


Sir  Jame9  Mackintosh.  90 

ffigioo  of  inquiry*  Such  was  the  cordial^  reciprocal  testimony  of  these 
two  di^ngoifthed  men.'  Memoir  of  Robert  HalL  (Worka^  V6L  VI. 
pp.  14>  15.) 

From  Aberdeen,  Mackintosh  repaired  to  Edinburgh,  to  com- 

1>Iete  his  education,  where  he  spent  three  years,  attending  the 
ectures  of  Dr.  Cidlen  and  Professor  BlacK,  preparatory  to  his 
taking  i^  the  dc^ee  of  Doctor  of  Medicine.  Medical  studies, 
However,  had  but  a  small  portion  of  his  attention ;  they  had  few 
attractions  for  him ;  and  we  are  surprised  that  he  should  ever 
have  thought  of  adopting,  as  a  means  of  subsistence,  a  professicm 
80  little  suited  to  his  taste  and  habits  of  mind.  Was  it  that  the 
practice  of  law  seemed  to  present  still  less  scope  for  speculative 
and  excurrive  inquiries,  and  that  the  science  of  law,  in  which  he 
was  so  peculiarly  fitted  to  excel,  has  hitherto  been  deemed  an 
elegant  study,  rather  than  a  branch  of  professional  accomplish- 
ment ?  Mackintosh  pursued  the  studv  of  medicine,  however,  so 
fiu*  as  to  obtain,  in  l?^?'  ^^  medical  aegree ;  on  which  occasion, 
be  composed  a  Latin  thesis,  ^  On  Muscular  Action,^  afterwards 
published.  On  leaving  the  university,  he  repaired  to  the  me- 
tropolis, ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of  practising  as  a  physician. 
If  he  had  any  serious  intention  of  this  nature,  the  step  which  he 
took,  in  engaging  in  political  controversy,  was  the  most  likely  to 
defeat  his  purpose.  The  great  question  of  the  day  was  the  pro- 
posed Regency,  in  consequence  of  the  first  illness  of  George  III. 
Mackintosh  made  his  debut  as  a  political  writer,  by  a  pamphlet 
in  support  of  the  views  of  Fox ;  and  his  first  essay  shared  the 
jfete  or  the  cause  which  he  espoused.  Foiled  and  disappointed, 
the  young  politician  repaired  to  the  Continent,  apparently  with 
the  view  of  renewing  his  professional  studies.  After  spending  a  short 
time  at  Leyden,  then  the  most  celebrated  medical  school  in 
Surope,  he  proceeded  to  Liege,  where  he  was  an  eye-witness  of 
the  memorable  contest  between  the  Prince-Bishop  and  his  sub- 
jects. His  visit  to  the  Continent  must  have  been  little  more 
than  a  summer  tour,  since  we  find  him,  in  this  same  year,  again 
in  London.  About  the  same  time,  his  father  died,  and  be- 
queathed him  a  small  landed  property  in  Scotland.  This  may, 
perhaps,  explain  another  circumstance ;  that,  while  as  yet  a  phy- 
sician without  fees,  and  a  writer  without  fame  or  influential 
fnends,  he  ventured  upon  matrimony.  In  17^9,  he  married 
Miss  Stuart,  '  a  Scottish  lady  without  beauty  or  fortune,  but  of 
*'  great  intelligence  and  most  amiable  character  ;^ — the  sister  to 
Mr.  Charles  Stuart,  the  author  of  several  dramatic  pieces.  In 
her,  he  found  a  partner  of  his  heart,  who  appreciated  his  character, 
and  '  urged  him  on  to  overcome  his  almost  constitutional  in- 
'  dolence.^ 

In  the  spring  of  1791)  Mackintosh  started  into  notoriety,  as 

k2 


100  Sir  James  Mackintosh, 

the  Author  of  "  Vindicice  Gallicce^  or  a  Defence  of  the  French 
Revolution  and  its  English  admirers  against  the  accusations  of 
the  lit.  Hon.  Edmund  Burke.*"  This  work,  an  octavo  volume 
of  379  pages,  he  is  said  to  have  sold,  before  it  was  completely 
written,  for  a  trifling  sum ;  but  the  publisher  liberally  presented 
the  Author  with  triple  the  original  price.  At  the  end  of  four 
months,  two  editions  had  been  sold,  and  a  third  appeared  at  the 
end  of  August  1791.  The  powerful  talent  displayed  in  this 
performance,  procured  for  its  Author  the  acquaintance  of  Sheridan, 
Grey,  Whitbread,  Fox,  and  the  Duke  of  Bedford.  It  after- 
wards led  to  his  being  introduced  to  Burke  himself,  who  invited 
him  to  his  seat  at  Beaconsfield ;  and  the  visit  is  said  to  have  re- 
sulted in  a  very  considerable  modification  of  the  political  opinions 
avowed  in  that  brilliant  but  immature  performance.  Time — the 
very  events  of  the  following  year — must,  even  without  any  such 
aid  from  the  corrective  wisdom  of  the  venerable  political  philo- 
sopher, have  wrought  some  change  upon  Mackintosh,  in  common 
with  every  sanguine  admirer  of  the  French  revolution.  Yet, 
those  who  were  the  most  disappointed  by  the  issue,  were  not  the 
least  sagacious  observers ;  and  history  rejects  alike  the  generous 
illusions  to  which  Mackintosh  surrendered  himself,  and  the  more 
elaborate  misrepresentations  of  his  great  anti-Gallican  an- 
tagonist ♦. 

Fully  determined  now  to  relinquish  the  medical  profession, 
Mr.  Mackintosh,  in  1792,  entered  himself  as  a  student  of  Lin- 
coln's Inn ;  and  in  1795,  he  was  called  to  the  bar;  but  he  does 
not  appear  to  have  obtained  any  considerable  practice.  In  the 
year  1798,  he  projected,  as  a  means  of  improving  his  income,  the 
delivering  a  course  of  lectures  on  the  Law  of  Nature  and  of  Na- 
tions ;  and  he  applied  to  the  Benchers  of  Lincoln^s  Inn,  to  be 
^  allowed  the  use  of  their  Hall  for  that  purpose.  It  was  not  with- 
out difficulty  that  he  succeeded  in  overcoming  the  objections 


*  '  Mackintosh/  remarks  the  American  Reviewer,  'gives  ns  the 
'  frothy  effervescence  of  an  immature  mind  which  is  still  in  a  state  of 
'  fermentation^  while  in  Burke  we  have  the  pure,  ripe,  golden,  glowing 
'  nectar.'  There  is  certainly  more  ripeness  and  body  in  Burke's  per- 
formance, though  it  is  scarcely  less  Heady.  We  little  expected,  how- 
ever, to  meet  uath  so  unqualified  a  pan^'ric  upon  that  beautiftil  pi>- 
litical  romance  from  a  Republican  writer.  '  £ven  now,'  adds  the 
Reviewer,  'although  his  (Burke's)  practical  condusions  have  been 
'  confirmed  by  the  event,  and  are  generally  acquiesced  in,  the  public 
'  mind  has  no  where — no,  not  et'cn  in  England!-— reached  the  devaiiom 

*  of  his  theory.     If  it  had,  we  should  not  witness  the  scenes  that  are 

*  now  acting  on  the  theatre  of  Europe !'  This  is  strange  language  to 
come  from  a  New-Englander ;  and  we  are  really  at  a  loss  to  know 
what  is  meant  by  Air.  Burke's  political  theory. 


Sir  Jamea^  Mackintosh.  101 

nvhich  were  raised  on  the  ground  of  his  supposed  Jacobin  prin- 
ciples. To  disprove  the  calumny,  he  published  his  Introductory 
L.ecture,  which  met  with  general  admiration ;  and  Mr.  Pitt  him- 
self, who  was  a  bencher  of  Lincoln^s  Inn,  spoke  of  it  as  the  most 
able  and  elegant  discourse  on  the  subject  in  any  language.  It  is 
said  to  have  been  at  the  immediate  recommendation  of  Lord 
Loughborough,  the  Chancellor,  that  permission  was  at  length 
given  to  use  the  Hall ;  and  Mackintosh  delivered  his  course  to  a 
large  and  most  respectable  audience.  The  Introductory  Lecture 
is  generally  considered  as  the  most  valuable  and  important  of  his 
printed  works;  and  the  whole  course,  if  of  any  corresponding 
merit,  would  be  a  precious  acquisition.  But  we  can  scarcely  en- 
tertain the  hope  that  he  has  left  any  thing  more  than  imperfect 
memoranda.     In  these  lectures,  it  is  remarked  by  Mr.  Campbell, 

*  Mackintosh,  with  the  eye  of  a  true  philosopher,  laid  bare  the 
^  doctrines  of  Rousseau  and  Vattcl,  and  of  a  host  of  their  fol- 

*  lowers,  who  borrowed  their  conceptions  of  the  law  of  nature  from 

*  the  savages  of  the  forest,  or  from  the  abodes  of  the  brute 

*  creation.^  The  errors  which  he  combated,  have  now,  however, 
become  so  far  obsolete,  that,  eminent  as  was  the  service  rendered 
to  science  at  the  time,  these  Lectures  would  now,  perhaps,  be 
deprived  of  some  portion  of  their  interest. 

Subsequently  to  the  general  election  in  1802,  Mr.  Mackintosh 
was  retained  as  counsel  in  several  cases  of  contested  elections, 
and  acquitted  himself  with  ability  before  committees  of  the  House 
of  Commons.  The  first  occasion,  however,  on  which  he  dis- 
tinguished himself  at  the  bar,  was  as  counsel  in  defence  of  Pel- 
tier, the  Editor  of  the  Ambigu,  who  was  prosecuted  in  Feb*  1B03, 
for  a  libel  against  Bonaparte,  then  First  Consul  of  France.  Mr. 
Perceval,  afterwards  prime  minister,  as  attorney  general,  con- 
ducted the  prosecution,  and  was  seconded  by  Mr.  Abbot,  after- 
wards Lord  Tenterden.  Against  this  array  of  talent  and  power. 
Mackintosh  appeared  as  the  single  counsel  for  the  defendant ; 
and  he  delivered,  on  this  occasion,  an  oration  in  defence  of  the 
liberty  of  the  press,  which  has  been  pronounced  one  of  the  most 
finished  specimens  of  modem  eloquence.  Lord  EUenborough 
declared  it  to  be  the  most  eloquent  oration  he  had  ever  heard  in 
Westminster  Hall.  A  translation  of  it  into  French,  by  Mad. 
de  Stael,  was  circulated  throughout  Europe.  *  We  are  not  sure,' 
remarks  the  writer  in  the  North  American  Review,  *  that  there 
^  is  any  single  speech  in  the  English  language,  which  can  fairly 

*  be  compared  with  it.' 

The  reputation  which  Mr.  Mackintosh  had  previously  acquired 
from  his  Lectures  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  had  obtained  for  him  the 
appointment  of  Professor  of  the  Laws  in  the  East  India  College 
at  Hertford.  His  eloquent  defence  of  Peltier  procured  him  the 
offer  of  the  Recordership  of  Bombay,  which,  after  some  hesitation, 


103  Sir  James  Mackintosh. 

he  accq>ted.  With  a  large  and  increasing  fiunily  and  a  slender 
and  precarious  income,  he  could  scarcely  decline  a  high  judkiai 
station  which  promised  ample  means  and  literary  leisure,  aitfaoiig^ 
at  the  cost  of  expatriation,  and,  as  the  event  proved,  of  the  lost 
of  health.  On  this  occasion,  he  received  the  honour  of  knight* 
hood.  He  had  previously  lost  his  first  wife,  and  married,  in 
I79B,  a  daughter  of  J.  B.  Allen,  Esq.,  of  Cressella,  in  Pem- 
brokeshire, who,  with  several  children,  accompanied  him  on  his 
Toyage  to  the  East. 

^  It  is  not  very  honourable  to  the  discernment  of  the  Gorem- 
ment,*^  remarks  the  American  writer  above  referred  to,  *  that  Uiey 

*  should  have  permitted  the  expatriation,  for  so  many  of  the  best 

*  years  of  his  life,  of  one  of  the  master  spirits  of  the  country, 

*  whose  proper  sphere  of  action  was  the  centre  of  business  at 

*  home ;  and  it  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  private  considerations 

*  rendered  it  expedient  for  Sir  James  to  consent  to  the  proposal.'* 
Want  of  discernment,  in  this  instance,  cannot,  however,  befiurhr 
imputed  to  the  Government.  The  constitutional  indolence  whicn 
unfortunately  adhered  to  him,  and  which  rendered  his  life  a  course 
of  splendid  but  desultory  efforts,  with  long  intervals  of  compara- 
tive inaction,  his  deficiency  in  the  habits  of  business  and  in  the 
practical  knowledge  of  his  profession,  together  with  his  singular 
improvidence,  would  probably  have  debarred  him  from  filling  that 
sphere  of  usefulness  at  home  to  which  his  great  talents  would 
otherwise  infallibly  have  raised  him.  While  he  remained  in  In- 
dia, Sir  James  discharged  his  official  duties  with  distinguished 
seal,  ability,  and  philanthropy ;  and  it  was  while  there,  that  the 
subject  of  Criminal  Jurisprudence  became  more  especially  an  ob- 
ject of  his  attention.  By  his  high  intellectual  and  moral  qua- 
lities, he  contributed  to  elevate  the  standard  of  civilisation  in  tliat 
remote  colony.  He  founded  a  literary  society  at  Bombay,  as  Sir 
William  Jones  had  done  at  Calcutta ;  but  he  did  not  engage 
with  similar  ardour  in  the  study  of  the  oriental  languages,  his  ac- 
quaintance with  which  was  very  limited.  After  a  residence  in 
India  of  between  seven  and  eight  years,  he  found  his  health  se- 
riously impaired  by  the  effects  of  the  climate ;  and  in  1811,  he 
returned  to  England  with  his  fortune  not  much  improved,  and 
with  a  liver  complaint  which  adhered  to  him  for  the  rest  of  his 
life,  and  ultimatdy  shortened  his  days.  He  obtained  a  retiring 
pension  from  the  East  India  Company,  of  1200/.  a  year;  but 
habits  of  economy  are  not  to  be  learned  in  India. 

As  soon  as  his  shattered  health  would  permit.  Sir  James  was 
introduced  into  Parliament.  In  July  1813,  he  entered  the  House 
of  Commons  as  representative  for  the  county  of  Nairn.  In  1818, 
the  influence  of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire  secured  his  return  for 
Knaresborough,  for  which  borough  he  was  re-elected  at  the  sub- 
sequent elections  of  1820,  1826,  1880,  and  1831.    On  all  ques- 


Sir  Jam€s  Mackintosh.  103 

tioiiB  of  foreign  policy  and  international  law,  on  the  alien  bill,  on 
the  liberty  of  the  press,  on  religious  toleration,  on  slavery,  on  the 
settlement    of   Greece,   on   Parliamentary   Reform,  and    more 
especially  upon  the  reform  of  the  Criminal  Law,  Sir  James  took 
a  prominent  part,  and  was  always  to  be  found  on  the  side  of  free* 
dom,  justice,  and  humanity.     On  the  questions  connected  with 
neutral  rights,  which  grew  out  of  the  relations  between  Great  Bri- 
tain and  tne  United  States  of  America,  he  cooperated  actively 
and  ably  with  his  friend  Mr.  Brougham  in  support  of  a  liberal 
policy.     After  the  close  of  the  last  American  War,  he  took  oc- 
casion, in  one  of  his  speeches  in  the  House,  to  compliment  the 
American  Commissioners  at  Ghent,  upon  their  '  astonishing  su- 
^  periority  ^  over  their  opponents ;  a  circumstance  which  we  find 
noticed  with  great  complacency  by  our  North  American  contem- 
porary, who  adds : — *  In  other  speeches,  and  in  his  writings,  he 
has  oAen  spoken  in  friendly  and  favourable  terms  of  this  coun^- 
try.     This  candid, — ^perhaps  partial  disposition,  in  one  whose 
opinion  was  authority,  coming  into  contrast,  as  it  did,  with  the 
meanness  and  illiberality  of  many  of  his  contemporaries,  had  so 
much  endeared  the  name  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh  to  our  citi- 
aens,  that  he  was  generally  styled  in  the  newspapers,  whenever 
he  was  mentioned,  the  friend  of  America.     A  report  which 
was  spread  soon  after  the  entrance  into  power  of  the  present  mi- 
nistry, that  he  was  coming  out  to  reside  amongst  us  as  British 
Minister,  was  heard  with  much  satisfaction ;  and  there  cannot 
be  a  doubt  that  his  reception  would  have  been  of  the  most  gra- 
tifying character.^     We  can  scarcely  suppose  that  there  was  any 
foundation  for  the  report,  as  the  station  would  have  been  ill  suited 
to  Sir  James,  and  the  state  of  his  health  would  scarcely  have  ad- 
mitted of  his  encountering,  without  imminent  risk,  the  trials  of  a 
long  voyage  and  a  new  climate. 

After  tne  death  of  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  the  advocacy  of  the 
revision  of  the  Penal  Code  devolved  more  especially  upon  Sir 
James.  He  was  Chairman  of  a  Committee  m  the  House  of 
Commons  on  the  subject  of  the  Criminal  Law  in  1819 ;  and  in 
pursuance  of  its  report,  he  introduced  six  bills  in  the  course  of 
May  1820.  Only  three  of  these  were,  however,  at  the  time,  per- 
sisted in  ^  and  in  the  Commutation  of  Punishment  bill,  only  four 
offences  were  suffered  to  be  included  in  its  provisions,  out  of  the 
eleven  for  which  it  was  proposed  to  commute  the  capital  punish- 
ment ;  the  other  seven  being  expunged  from  the  bill  in  the  House  of 
Lords.  For  some  time,  after  the  death  of  Tierney,  Sir  James  was, 
we  believe,  regarded  as  a  sort  of  chief  of  the  Opposition  party  ;  but, 
although  a  most  important  auxiliary,  he  was  deficient  in  many  of 
the  requisites  demanded  by  the  post  of  a  political  leader  and  tac* 
tician.    His  character  as  a  parliamentary  speaker,  is  thus  por- 


104  Sir  James  Mackintosh* 

trayed  in  an  article  originally  inserted  in  the  New  Monthly  Ma^ 
gazine,  and  attributed  to  the  pen  of  Mr.  Lytton  Bulwer. 

' "  Sir  James  Mackintosh  never  spoke  on  a  subject  without  display- 
ing, not  only  all  that  was  peculiarly  necessary  to  that  subject,  but  all 
that  a  full  mind,  long  gathering  and  congesting,  has  to  pour  forth 
upon  any  subject.  The  language,  without  being  antithetic,  was  arti- 
ficial and  ornate.  The  action  and  voice  were  vehement,  but  not 
passionate ;  the  tone  and  conception  of  the  argument,  of  too  lofty  and 

Shilosophic  a  strain  for  those  to  whom,  generally  speaking,  it  was 
irected.  It  was  impossible  not  to  feel  tnat  the  person  addresdiig 
you  was  a  profound  thinker,  delivering  a  laboured  composition.  Sir 
James  Mackintosh's  character  as  a  speaker,  then,  was  of  that  sort 
acquired  in  a  thin  House,  where  those  who  have  stayed  from  their 
dinner,  have  stayed  for  the  purpose  of  hearing  what  is  said,  and  can, 
therefore,  deliver  up  their  attention  undistractedly  to  any  knowledge 
and  ability,  even  if  somewhat  prolixly  put  forth,  which  elucidates  the 
subject  of^^  discussion.  We  doubt  if  all  great  speeches  of  a  legislative 
kind  would  not  require  such  an  audience,  it  they  never  travelled 
beyond  the  walls  within  which  they  were  spoken.  The  passion,  the 
action,  the  movement  of  oratory  which  animates  and  transports  a  large 
assembly,  can  never  lose  their  effect  when  passion,  action,  movement  are 
in  the  orator's  subject ;  when  Philip  is  at  the  head  of  his  Macedonians, 
or  Catiline  at  the  gates  of  Rome.  The  emotions  of  fear,  revenge, 
horror,  are  emotions  that  all  classes  and  descriptions  of  men,  however 
lofty  or  low  their  intellect,  may  feel: — ^here,  then,  is  the  orator's 
proper  field.  But  again ;  there  are  subjects,  such  as  many,  if  not 
most,  of  those  discussed  in  our  House  of  Commons,  the  higher  bear- 
ings of  which  are  intelligible  only  to  a  certain  order  of  understandings. 
The  reasoning  proper  for  these  is  not  understood,  and  cannot  therefore 
be  sympathised  with,  by  the  mass.  In  order  not  to  be  insipid  to  the 
few,  it  IS  almost  necessary  to  be  dull  to  the  many.  If  our  Houses  of 
legislature  sat  with  closed  doors,  they  would  be  the  most  improper 
assemblies  for  the  discussion  of  legislative  questions  that  we  can  pos- 
sibly conceive.  They  would  have  completely  the  tone  of  their  own 
clique.  No  one  would  dare  or  wish  to  soar  above  the  common-places 
which  find  a  ready  echoing  cheer :  all  would  indulge  in  that  vapid 
violence  against  persons,  which  the  spirit  of  party  is  rarely  wanting  to 
applaud.  But  as  it  is,  the  man  of  superior  mind,  standins  upon  his 
own  strength,  knows  and  feels  that  he  is  not  spcaldng  to  Uie  loUing, 
lounging,  indolently  listening  individuals  stretched  on  the  benches 
around  him :  he  feels  and  knows  that  he  is  speaking  to,  and  will 
obtain  the  sympathy  of,  all  the  great  and  enlightened  spirits  id. 
£urope ;  ana  this  bears  and  buoys  him  up  amidst  any  coldness,  im« 
patience,  or  indifference,  in  his  immediate  audience.  Wnen  we  perused 
the  magnificent  orations  of  Mr.  Burke,  which  transported  us  in  our 
cabinet,  and  were  told  that  his  rising  was  the  dinner  bell  in  the  House 
of  Commons ;  when  we  heard  that  some  of  Mr.  Brougham's  almost 
gigantic  discourses  were  delivered  amidst  coughs  and  impatience ;  and 
when,  returning  from  our  travels,  where  we  had  heard  of  nothing  but 


Sir  James  Mackintosh,  lO/T 

the  genins  and  eloquence  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh^  we  encountered 
him  ourselves  in  the  House  of  Commons ;— on  all  these  occasions  we 
were  sensible,  not  that  Mr.  Burke's,  Mr.  Broueham's,  Sir  James 
Mackintosh's  eloquence  was  less,  but  that  it  was  addressed  to  another 
audience  than  that  to  which  it  was  apparently  delivered.  Intended 
for  the  House  of  Commons  only,  the  style  would  have  been  absurdly 
faulty:  intended  for  the  public,  it  was  august  and  correct.  There  are 
two  different  modes  of  obtaining  a  parliamentary  reputation  :  a  man 
may  rise  in  the  country  by  what  is  said  of  him  m  the  House  of 
Ccmimons,  or  he  may  rise  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  what  is  thought 
and  said  of  him  in  the  country.  Some  debaters  have  the  iaculty,  by 
varying  their  style  and  their  subjects,  of  alternately  addressing  both 
those  without  and  within  their  walls,  with  effect  and  success.  Mr. 
Fox,  Mr.  Pitt,  Mr.  Sheridan,  Mr.  Canning  were,  and  Lord  Brougham 
is  of  this  number.  Mr.  Burke  and  Sir  James  Mackintosh  spoke  to 
the  reason  and  the  imagination,  rather  than  to  the  passions ;  and  this, 
together  with  some  faults  of  voice  and  manner,  rendered  these  great 
orators  (for  great  orators  they  were)  more  powerful  in  the  printed 
reports,  than  in  the  actual  delivery  of  their  speeches.  We  ourselves 
heard  Sir  James  Mackintosh's  great,  almost  wonderful^  speech  upon 
Reform.  We  shall  never  forget  the  extensive  range  ot  ideas,  the 
energetic  grasp  of  thought,  the  sublime  and  soaring  strain  of  legis- 
lative philosophy,  with  which  he  charmed  and  transported  us ;  but  it 
was  not  so  with  the  House  in  general.  His  Scotch  accent,  his  un- 
ceasing and  laboured  vehemence  of  voice  and  gesture,  the  refined  and 
speculative  elevation  of  his  views,  and  the  vast  heaps  of  hoarded 
knowledge  he  somewhat  prolixly  produced,  displeased  the  taste  and 
wearied  the  attention  of  men  who  were  far  more  anxious  to  be  amused 
and  excited,  than  to  be  instructed  or  convinced.  We  see  him  now !  his 
bald  and  singularly  formed  head  working  to  and  fro,  as  if  to  collect, 
and  then  shake  out  his  ideas ;  his  arm  violently  vibrating,  and  his 
body  thrown  forward  by  sudden  quirks  and  starts,  which,  ungraceful 
as  tney  were,  seemed  rather  premeditated  than  inspired.  This  is  not 
the  picture  which  Demosthenes  would  have  drawn  of  a  perfect  orator ; 
and  it  contains  some  defects  that  we  wonder  more  care  had  not  been 
applied  to  remedy." '  •     pp.  1 19 — 21. 

*  With  this  able  critique,  the  reader  may  be  pleased  to  compare  the 
estimate  furnished  by  the  American  Reviewer,  who  describes  his  own 
impressions.  '  His  eloquence  was  of  a  dignified,  manly,  and  imposing 
character.  His  manner  was  not  particularly  graceful,  and  he  had  a 
slight  Scotch  accent ;  but  his  language  was  flowing,  copious,  energetic, 
and  el^ant,  and,  above  all,  carried  with  it  to  the  minds  of  his  hearers, 
the  rich  gifts  of  profound  and  original  thought.  The  delightful  com- 
bination of  philosophy  and  taste  was  exhibited  by  Mackintosh  in  higher 
perfection  tnan  it  naa  been  by  any  parliamentary  orator  since  the  time 
of  Burke ;  not  excepting  even  Canning,  who  yet  exemplified  it  in  a 
very  remarkable  degree.  The  eloquence  of  Sir  James  was  far  more 
finished  than  that  of  Brougham  ;  although  the  latter,  from  his  supe- 
rior activity  and  industry,  possessed  a  greater  share  of  political  in- 
fluence, and  has  finally  made  a  much  more  brilliant  fortune  in  the 


106  Sir  James  Mackintosh. 

Sir  James  was  elected,  in  1822,  Lord  Rector  of  the  Uniyersity 
of  Glasgow,  and  again  in  1823.  On  the  Ist  of  December,  1830, 
he  was  appointed  one  of  the  Commissioners  for  the  aflfkirs  of 
India.  If  our  recollection  does  not  deceive  us,  he  held,  for  a 
short  time,  another  public  office  at  an  intermediate  period,  which 
he  resigned  in  consequence  of  some  political  changes.  Had  the 
state  of  his  health  permitted,  it  is  believed  that  he  would  have 
formed  a  member  of  the  present  Administration,  or  have  been 

Eromoted  to  some  important  and  lucrative  post.     In  that  case, 
is  American  friend  remarks,  *  af^r  having  been  nailed  for  much 
^  of  his  life  to  the  north  wall  of  Opposition,  and  suffered  a  good 

*  deal  from  pecuniary  embarrassments,  he  would  have  found  the 
'  evening  of  his  days  gilded  and  cheered  with  the  southern  sun 

*  of  power  and  fortune.^  It  is  not  the  fact,  however,  as  this  Writer 
imagines,  that  he  was  unpensioned  and  neglected,  with  no  other 
temporal  reward  for  his  labours,  than  '  a  great  but  dowerless 
'  fame.^  Our  admiration  of  his  splendid  endowments  must  not 
blind  us  to  the  lesson  which  may  be  derived  from  the  history  of 
his  career.  The  homely  virtues  of  steady  industry  and  prudence, 
'  the  secrets  of  fortune,''  would  have  enabled  him  to  secure  at 
least  an  honourable  competency ;  and  while  we  may  respect  him 
for  despising  wealth,  we  cannot  but  regret  that  his  improTidence 
interfered  with  his  comfort,  as  much  as  his  desultory  nabits  did 
with  his  usefulness.  The  evening  of  his  life  was  overcast  also, 
we  lUdderstand,  by  trials  of  a  domestic  character.  We  rejcnce  to 
be  assured  by  Dr.  Gregory,  in  his  Life  of  Hall,  that  latterly,  if  a 
sadder.  Sir  James  became  a  wiser  man  in  '  the  most  essential 
^  respects  ;^  and  that  having  always  been  the  fUend  of  Virtue,  he 
became,  towards  the  close  of  his  days,  more  than  he  had  been, 
the  disciple  of  Religion. 

Sir  James'^s  health  had  been  for  some  time  rapidly  declining; 
and  we  were  painfully  struck,  on  meetin|;  him  at  the  anniversary 
of  the  Anti-Slavery  Society  in  1831,  with  the  unequivocal  in- 
dications of  premature  age.  The  illness  which  immediately  led 
to  his  death  was,  however,  the  effect  of  accident.  About  the 
beginning  of  March  1832,  while  at  dinner,  a  small  particle  of  bone 
in  a  portion  of  the  breast  of  a  boiled  chicken,  which  he  was 
attempting  to  swallow,  stuck  in  his  throat ;  and  it  was  not  till 
afler  two  days  that  the  obstruction  was  removed  by  an  emetic 

'  The  effects  of  the  accident  completely  unsettled  his  general  health. 
He  afterwards  laboured  under  increasing  debility  and  occasional 
attacks  of  severe  pains  in  his  head,  shoulders,  and  limbs.  A  few  days 
before  deaths  the  pains  suddenly  ceased.  Febrile  symptoms  set  in,  and 
the  head  became  affected.     Although  this  change  was  met>  and  in  a 

world.'  For  a  spirited  and,  npon  the  whole,  correct  portrait  of  Sir 
Jameiy  as  a  writer,  a  speaker,  and  a  converser,  we  may  refer  also  to  a 
ebvw  volume, ''  The  Spirit  of  the  Age."    (8vo.  1825.) 


Sir  James  Mackintosh.  WJ 

great  measure  subdued^  by  the  treatment  prescribed  by  his  medical 
attendants^  the  conseqaent  debility  was  too  great  for  his  constitution 
to  resist^  already  oppressed  by  the  weight  of  sixty-six  years.  Sir 
James  Mackintosh  anticipated  the  near  approach  of  his  dissolution 
with  the  greatest  firmness^  and  with  the  most  perfect  resignation  to 
the  Divine  will ;  retaining,  nearly  to  the  last,  the  command  of  the 

Eowerful  mental  faculties  which  distinguished  him  through  an  arduous 
fe.  His  decease  took  place  on  the  30th  of  May,  1832,  at  his  house 
in  Langham  Place.  He  was  buried  on  the  4th  of  June,  at  Hampstead. 
Among  the  carriages  in  the  procession  were  those  of  Uie  Lord  Chan- 
cellor, the  Dukes  of  Bedford  and  Devonshire,  the  Marquis  of  Lans« 
downe,  the  £arl  of  Carlisle,  Lords  Holland  and  Dover,  Right  Hon. 
€.  Grant,  Sir  Robert  Inglis,  Bart.  M.P.,  &c.'    pp.  125—6. 

Many  years  ago,  (it  is  even  said,  early  in  life,)  Sir  James  had 
projected  a  great  historical  work  on  the  affairs  of  England  since 
the  Revolution  of  1788,  for  which  he  collected  materials  with 
much  assiduity ;  but,  after  his  return  to  Europe,  his  parliamentary 
duties  conspired  with  the  feeble  state  of  his  health,  to  prevent  his 
making  much  progress  in  the  execution  of  his  design.  The 
work  Si  which  tne  volume  before  us  contains  a  valuable  fragment, 
may  be  regarded  as  ^  an  expansion  of  the  prefatory  matter  in- 
^  tended  for  his  greater  history  ."^  The  entire  work  was  to  have 
extended  to  eight  volumes  of  the  Cyclopaedia;  and  he  is  stated  to 
have  left  ^  various  manuscripts  and  memoranda  relating  to 
^  English  history,^  which  have  been  purchased  by  the  proprietors, 
and  ^  will  be  used  as  occasion  shall  require  in  the  progress  of 
^  the  work/  Among  these  is  *  a  view  of  English  affairs  at  the 
*  time  of  the  Revolution,^  which  promises  to  be  peculiarly  valuable. 
We  know  not  to  whom  the  delicate  task  of  continuing  the  hbtory 
has  been  intrusted ;  but  we  should  strongly  recommend,  that  that 
portion  of  the  history  towards  which  Sir  James''8  manuscripts  will 
oe  found  to  supply  no  available  materials,  should  be  despatched 
with  all  convenient  brevity,  for  two  obvious  reasons ;  first,  because 
the  work,  as  originally  planned,  is  on  a  scale  too  large  in  pro- 
portion for  the  Cyclopseaia  itself,  and  secondly,  because,  if  that 
scale  is  adhered  to.  Sir  Jameses  composition  will  form  too  small  a 

Sroportion  of  this  History.  Perhaps  another  reason  might  be 
rawn  from  the  character  of  that  portion  which  he  lived  to 
execute :  though  richly  instructive,  it  presents  by  no  means  a 
model  for  advantageous  imitation  by  any  inferior  hand.  The 
learned  Author  was  better  qualified  to  oe  a  commentator  upon 
history,  than  an  historian.  His  comments  and  elucidations  are 
admirable,  and  throw  a  strong  light  upon  conspicuous  points ;  but 
he  does  not  excel  in  either  graphic  delineation  or  compressed  and 
perspicuous  narrative.  His  distinguished  friend,  Mr.  Hall,  is 
stated  to  have  expressed  in  conversation,  the  opinion  that,  in 
attempting  history,  Mackintosh  had  mistaken  the  proper  line  of 


106  Sir  James  Mackintosh, 

his  powers.  The  conversation  alluded  to,  which  took  place  in 
1819  and  1823,  has  been  preserved  by  the  Rev.  Robert  Balmer, 
of  Berwick  upon  Tweed,  and  is  printed  in  the  Vlth  volume  of 
Mr.  HalPs  Works,  just  published.  We  shall  transcribe  the  whole 
of  what  relates  to  the  subject  of  the  present  sketch. 

* ''  1  know  no  man/'  Mr.  Hall  said  repeatedly  and  emphatically^ 
*'  eqaal  to  Sir  James  in  talents.  The  powers  of  his  mind  are  admirallj 
balanced.  He  is  defective  only  in  imagination He  has  ima- 
gination too ;  but,  with  him,  imagination  is  an  acquisition,  rather  than 
a  ^Eiculty.  He  has,  however,  plenty  of  embellishment  at  command ; 
for  his  memory  retains  every  thing.  His  mind  is  a  spacious  repository, 
hung  round  ivith  beautiful  imc^es ;  and  when  he  wants  one,  he  has 
nothing  to  do  but  reach  up  his  hand  to  a  peg,  and  take  it  down.  But 
his  images  were  not  manufactured  in  his  mind ;  they  were  imported." 
B.  "  If  it  be  so  defective  in  imagination,  he  must  be  incompetent  to 
describe  scenes  and  delineate  characters  vividly  and  graphically ;  and 
I  should  apprehend,  therefore,  he  will  not  succeed  in  writing  history." 
H.  ''  Sir,  I  do  not  expect  him  to  produce  an  eloquent  or  interesting 
history.  He  has,  I  fear,  mistaken  his  province.  His  genius  is  best 
adapted   for  metaphysical   speculation.     But,  had  he  chosen  moral 

Shilosophy,  he  would  probably  have  surpassed  every  living  writer." 
?.  "  I  admired  exceedingly  some  of  his  philosophical  papers  in  the 
Edinburgh  Review;  his  articles,  for  instance,  on  Mde.  de  Stael's 
Germany,  and  on  Dugald  Stewart's  Preliminary  Dissertation;  but 
there  seemed  to  me  a  heaviness  about  them ;  and  I  do  think  that  Mr. 
Jeffrey  could  expound  a  metaphysical  theory  with  more  vivacity 
and  effect."  H.  "  With  more  vivacity,  perhaps,  but  not  with  equal 
judgement  or  acutcness.  He  would  not  go  so  deep.  Sir.  I  am 
persuaded  that  if  Sir  James  Mackintosh  had  enjoyed  leisure,  and  had 
exerted  himself,  he  would  have  completely  outdone  Jeffrey  and 
Stewart,  and  all  the  metaphysical  writers  of  our  times." ' 

Mr.  HalPs  remarks  upon  Sir  Jameses  qualifications  for  historical 
writing,  were  made  in  anticipation  of  his  great  work,  which  was 
destined  never  to  appear,  and  had  no  reference  to  the  task  which 
he  was  induced  to  undertake  for  Dr.  Lardner^s  Cyclopaedia.  In 
these  volumes,  he  was  obliged  to  have  more  immediately  in  view 
the  amusement  of  popular  readers ;  but  his  style  is  by  no  means 
adapted  to  a  popular  work.  It  is  rich,  but  often  crowded  with 
thought ;  obscure,  not  through  any  defect  of  perspicuity  in  the 
diction,  but  from  the  complexity  arising  from  the  number  of 
accessory  ideas  interlaced  with  the  primary  one  in  the  sentence 
or  paragraph.  The  narrative  is  encumbered  with  the  philosophy, 
like  a  silver  stream  half  concealed  by  the  rich  vegetation  it  has 
nourished.  He  presents  to  us  not  the  mere  facts,  out  the  reasons 
of  the  facts,  never  being  satisfied  without  tracing  the  event  to  the 
cause ;  and  thus,  if  not  the  most  graphic  of  narrators,  his  work, 
so  far  as  it  goes,  is  the  most  instructive  of  historical  manuals. 
Our  readers  will  probably  prefer  to  any  further  observations  of 


Sir  James  Mackintosh.  109 

our  own  upon  thb  subject,  the  following  critiaue  upon  the  first 
two  volumes,  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Campbell,  the  Poet* 


<  €t 


There  is  something,  at  the  first  view,  unpleasant  in  conceiviDg  a 
man  like  Mackintosh,  with  a  mind  whose  deep  speculations  would 
require  a  good  long  life-time  for  ordinary  men  to  study,  sitting  down 
to  write  a  book  for  men  of  little  leisure;  but  on  closer  examination  of 
the  subject,  it  will  occur,  that  we  scarcely  recognise  profound  thinkers 
by  a  surer  test,  than  that  they  save  the  bulk  of  men  from  the  pain  of 
elaborate  thought.  They  simplify  truth  at  a  glance.  Locke,  Bacon, 
and  Montesquieu  afford  abundant  examples.  That  Mackintosh  has 
done  this  in  a  certain  and  very  considerable  d^ree,  in  his  Manual  of 
£nglish  History^  I  do  honestly  believe ;  nor  would  I  wish  that  the 
world  had  lost  that  Manual  upon  any  terms,  unless,  perhaps,  on  the 
condition  that  he  had  finished  his  larger  history.  I  pretend  not, 
indeed,  to  come  armed  at  all  points,  by  that  fresh  and  lull  research 
which  the  subject  would  require,  to  defend  those  two  volumes  against 
every  objection  which  criticism,  both  oral  and  written,  has  brought 
against  them.  During  their  preparation,  he  had  grown  a  veteran  in 
fame ;  and,  from  the  exaggerating  tendency  of  the  popular  mind,  he  had 
to  satisfy  absurd  anticipations.  Among  famib'ar  facts,  he  was  expected 
to  introduce  novelty,-— among  the  '  lying  chronicles,'  he  was  expected 
to  establish  harmonious  testimony, — and  over  ages  of  events,  from 
Boadicea  to  Bacon,  he  was  to  expound  every  thing  at  once  palpably  to 
the  school-boy,  and  profoundly  to  the  philosopher.  My  own  opinion, 
if  it  may  be  heard  amidst  the  myriad  buzz  of  criticism,  is,  that  he  has 
wondernilly  solved  the  difficulty  of  making  history  at  once  amusing  to 
the  hncVf  elevating  to  the  understanding,  and  interesting  to  the  heart. 
I  scarcely  know  two  volumes  from  which,  considering  their  depth  of 
thooffht,  the  simplest  mind  will  be  apt  to  carry  off  more  instruction, 
nor  from  which  the  most  instructed  minds,  if  1  may  judge  of  such  a 
mental  class,  would  be  likely,  considering  the  manual  and  popular 
object  of  the  work,  to  carry  off  more  sound  and  pleasant  impres- 
sions. 

*  '^  As  to  the  perfect  correctness  of  the  light  in  which  he  has  ex- 
hibited every  historical  &ct,  I  should  exceed  my  commission,  if  I  were 
to  speak  in  more  than  general  terms.  The  axa^arov  irvp  of  inquisitive 
discernment  seems,  to  my  humble  apprehension,  always  to  accompany 
him  in  his  path  as  an  historian ;  but  to  prove,  or  to  disprove,  whether 
that  light  ever  failed  him  in  certain  dark  periods  of  English  annals, 
would,  for  an  opinion  of  any  value,  require  to  come  from  the  most 
experienced  English  antiquary.  It  has  been  objected  to  him,  that  he 
has  too  freauenUy  put  faith  in  the  authority  of  More,  and  in  that  of 
the  chroniclers  Hall  and  Grafton.  Those  men  wrote,  it  is  well  known, 
as  the  '  very  indentured  servants '  of  the  Tudor  dynasty ;  and  it  has 
been  pertinently  asked,  whether  men,  stating,  by  their  o^vn  confession, 
that  they  wrote  at  the  instance  of  his  highness  (Henry  VIII.),  should 
never  omit  a  displeasing  fact,  never  modify  the  appearance  of  an  event  ? 
Assuredly,  the  supposition  is  inadmissible;  but  then,  on  the  other 
hand,  has  Mackintosh  really  held  up  Alore,  Grafton,  and  Hall  as 
irrefiragable  authorities  ?    Has  he  not  rather  sought  to  sift  their  truths 


110  Sir  James  Maekiniosh. 

^m  their  misrepresentatioiia  ?  And  when  the  miner  cumol  find  pore 
metal»  can  we  blame  him  for  putting  erode  ore  into  the  melting 
furnace  ?  Supposing  that  in  utter  scepticism  he  had  abandoned  those 
writers,  where  else  was  he  to  seek  for  informants?  And  it  would  snrelj 
be  rather  a  sweeping  assertion  to  saj,  that  they  are  always  ineredible. 
* "  When  I  find  him,  therefore,  in  his  manual  of  history,  departing 
from  certain  historical  opinions,  which  I  know  he  onoe  entertained,  I 
am  rather  inclined  to  suspend  my  judgment  on  the  matter  altogether, 
than  for  a  moment  to  suspect  his  latter  and  changed  opinion  to  have 
been  formed  undeliberately.  I  remember,  for  instance,  that  he  was 
once  a  Walpolite  in  his  faith  as  to  the  numerous  crimes  of  the  third 
Richard.  1  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  that  monarch  personated  by 
Kean,  at  Drury  Lane  theatre,  in  the  company  of  Madame  de  StaSl 
and  my  illustrious  friend.  Sir  James  spoke  at  great  length  on  the 
exaggerations  of  Richard's  traditional  character,  and  I  recollect  our 
laughing  heartily  at  what  we  then  conceived  to  be  a  true  hypothesis 
started  by  Walpole ;  namely,  that  the  bones  found  in  the  Tower,  and 
supposed  to  be  those  of  one  of  the  princes,  were  really  the  bones  of  an 
ola  ape  who  had  escaped  from  the  menagerie.  Poor  fellow !  if  it  was 
so,  how  little  had  he  thought,  amidst  his  m<ms  and  mows,  that  he 
should  ever  be  mistaken  for  a  prince  of  the  Mood  royal !  But  Sir 
James  Mackintosh,  in  his  history  of  that  period,  comes  back  again 
nearer  to  the  Shakspearian  idea  of  Richard's  character;  and ^ the 
opinion,  whether  right  or  wrong,  must  have  been  at  least  well  weighed 
before  he  uttered  it." '     Ann.  Siog,  pp.  122^24. 

From  the  yolume  before  us,  we  shall  extract  a  few  paragraphs, 
as  specimens  of  the  philosophical  spirit,  the  enlightened  senti- 
ment, and  the  copious  information  wtiich  characteriie  die  hiaCorj. 

'  The  acts  by  which  the  ecclesiastical  revolution  was  aooomplishcd, 
occupied  the  whole  session  of  parliament,  which  continued  from  Ja- 
nuary to  May ....  Some  documents  purporting  to  be  the  speediea 
of  the  minority  in  |)arliament  in  these  important  debates  are  preserved. 
But  they  are  considered  as  spurious  or  ooubtful  by  the  ecclesiastical 
historians  of  both  parties.  Those  ascribed  to  Archbishop  Heath,  Bishi^ 
Scott,  and  Feckenham,  abbot  of  Westminster,  are  summaries  of  the 
controversy  on  the  Catholic  side,  and  are  not  properly  within  the  pro> 
vince  of  the  civil  historian.  The  speech  of  hora  Montague  ia  UMve 
ingenious  and  seasonable ;  objecting  to  the  severe  penalties,  and  urging 
the  ordinary  arguments  ftt>m  the  antiquity  and  univernlity  i^  the 
Catholic  Churdi,  only  as  presumptions  of  the  uncextainty  ^  Frotest- 
aiiti&m,  and  as  aggravations  of  the  injustice  of  severely  punishing  ad- 
herents to  a  faith  maintained  for  so  many  ages  by  their  fathers. 

'  The  true  hinge  of  the  dispute  was  not  touched  by  either  party. 
The  question  was,  whether  the  legislature  had  a  right  to  alter  the 
established  and  endowed  religion,  on  condition  of  respecting  the  estates 
for  life  vested  by  law  in  certain  ecclesiastics.  The  Protestants  as  well 
as  the  Catholics  converted  the  debate  into  a  theological  discussion,  be^ 
cauae  they  justified  their  measures  by  the  truth  of  their  own  reliffioua 
opinions.    No  one  then  saw,  that  the  legiidature  could  nofc«  wiUunt 


Sir  James  Mackintosh.  Ill 

usurpiiig  anthority  over  eonscienoe,  consider  religion  otherwise  than  as 
it  amcted  the  oatward  interests  of  society ;  which  alone  were  entrusted 
to  their  caie,  and  suhmitted  to  their  rule.  Every  other  view  of  the 
suljecty  however  arising  from  a  wish  to  exalt  religion^  must  in  truth 
tend  to  d^;nide  and  enshve  her. 

*  Of  the  only  two  important  deviations  in  the  new  Book  of  Common 
Prayer  from  the  liturgy  of  Edward  VI.^  the  firsts  consisting  in  the 
omissioa  of  a  prayer  to  be  delivered  from  the  "  tyranny  of  the  Bishop 
of  Rome  and  all  his  detestable  enormities,"  mamfestea  a  conciliatory 
temper  towards  the  Roman  Church ;  and  the  second,  instead  of  the 
Zwinglian  language,  which  spoke  of  the  sacrament  as  being  only  a 
remembrance  of  the  death  of  Christ,  substituted  words  indicating  some 
tort  of  real  presence  of  a  body,  though  not  affirming  the  presence  to 
be  corporeal ;  coinciding  with  the  phraseology  of  Calvin,  which,  if  any 
meaning  can  be  ascribed  to  the  terms,  might,  it  should  seem,  be  used 
by  Catholics,  not  indeed  as  adequately  conveying  their  doctrine,  but 
MB  containing  nothing  inconsistent  with  it. 

'  When  Cecil  and  Bacon  had  finally  succeeded  in  overcoming  his 
(Parker's)  scmples,  the  consecration  was  delayed  for  some  time,  in  order 
to  take  such  precautions  as  might  best  secure  its  validity  from  being  im- 
pugned. The  Church  of  England  then  adopted,  ana  has  not  yet  re* 
nonnced,  the  inconsistent  and  absurd  opinion,  that  the  Church  of  Rome, 
though  idolatrous,  is  the  only  channel  through  which  all  lawful  power 
of  ordaining  priests,  of  consecrating  bishops,  or  validly  performing 
any  religioas  rite,  flowed  from  Christ,  throueh  a  succession  of 
TOelatea,  down  to  the  latest  age  of  the  world.  The  ministers,  there- 
me,  irtt  endeavoured  to  obtain  the  concurrence  of  the  Catholic 
faitliopa  in  the  consecration ;  which  those  prelates,  who  must  have  con- 
sidered such  an  act  as  a  pro&nation,  conscientiously  refused.  They 
were  at  length  obliged  to  issue  a  new  commission  for  consecrating 
Faricer,  directed  to  iCitdien  of  Llandaff,  to  Ball,  an  Irish  bishop,  to 
Barkfw,  Scory,  and  Coverdale,  deprived  in  the  reign  of  Mary,  and  to 
two  snfllTagans.  Whoever  considers  it  important  at  present  to  ex- 
amine this  list,  will  percdve  the  perplexities  in  which  the  English 
Chnrdi  was  involved  by  a  zeal  to  preserve  unbroken  the  chain  of  Epis- 
copal succession.  On  account  of  this  frivolous  advantage,  that  church 
was  led  to  prefer  the  common  enemy  of  all  reformation  to  those  Pro- 
testant communions  which  had  boldly  snapped  asunder  that  brittle 
diain :  a  striking  example  of  the  evil  that  sometimes  arises  from  the 
inconsistent  respect  paid  by  reformers  to  ancient  establishments. 

'  Parker,  who  haa  been  elected  on  the  Ist  of  August,  was  finally  con- 
secrated on  the  17th  of  December.  Four  new  bishops  were  conse- 
crated three  days  after  the  primate ;  whose  preferment,  as  thcv  had 
been  exiles  for  religion  in  the  time  of  Mary,  was  a  strong  and  irre- 
vocable pledge  of  the  queen's  early  determination  to  stand  or  fall  with 
the  reformed  fiedth.  This  politic,  as  well  as  generous  elevation  of 
fidthful  adherents  and  patient  sufferers,  did  not  prevent  the  wise 
ministers  from  a  general  choice  which  none  of  their  antagonists  ven- 
tmred  to  impugn.  For  some  time,  many  of  the  Roman  Catholics,  un- 
sldlled  in  theological  disputes,  continued  to  fireqnent  their  parish  churches^ 
regardless  of  the  differences  which  were  to  steep  Europe  in  blood. 


112  Sit  JameB  Mackintosh'. 

'  This  uneilquiriAg  conformity  appears  not  immediately  to  hare 
yielded  to  the  condemnation  of  it  pronounced  by  the  divines  at  Trent, 
^he  Anglican  reformation  was  completed  by  the  publication  of  the  ar- 
ticles of  religion^  exhibiting  the  creed  of  that  establishment,  which, 
upon  the  whole,  deserves  commendation,  in  the  only  points  where  the 
authors  could  exercise  any  discretion  ;  for  treating  the  ancient  church 
with  considerable  approaches  to  decency,  and  tor  preferring  quiet, 

Siety,  and  benevolence  to  precision  and  consistency  :  not  pressing  those 
octrines  to  their  utmost  logical  consequences,  which,  by  such  a  mode 
of  inference,  lead  only  to  hatred,  to  blood,  and  often  to  a  corruption 
of  moral  principle. 

'  A  translation  of  the  Scripture  was  published  by  authority,  which, 
after  passing  through  several  emendations,  became,  in  the  succeeding 
reign,  the  basis  of  our  present  version.  This  was  the  work  of  trans- 
lators not  deeply  versed  in  the  opinions,  languages,  manners,  and  in- 
stitutions of  the  ancient  world,  who  were  bom  before  the  existence  of 
eastern  learning  in  Europe,  and  whose  education  was  completed  before 
the  mines  of  criticism  had  been  opened,  either  as  applied  to  the  events 
of  history,  or  to  the  reading,  interpretation,  and  genuineness  of  ancient 
writings.  On  these  accounts,  as  well  as  on  account  of  the  complete 
superannuation  of  some  parts  of  its  vocabulary,  it  undoubtedly  re- 
quires revision  and  emendation.  Such  a  task,  however,  should  only 
be  entrusted  to  hands  skilful  and  tender,  in  the  case  of  a  translation 
which,  to  say  nothing  of  the  connection  of  its  phraseology  with  the 
religious  sensibilities  of  a  people,  forms  the  richest  storehouse  of  the 
native  beauties  of  our  ancient  tongue ;  and  by  frequent  yet  reveren- 
tial perusal  has,  more  than  any  other  cause,  contributed  to  the  per- 
manency of  our  language,  and  thereby  to  the  unity  of  our  literature. 
In  waving  the  higher  considerations  of  various  kinds  which  render 
caution,  in  such  a  case,  indispensable,  it  is  hard  to  overvalue  the  lite- 
rary importance  of  daily  infusions  from  the  *'  well  of  English  unde- 
filed"  into  our  familiar  converse.  Nor  should  it  be  forgotten,  if  ever 
the  revision  be  undertaken,  that  we  derive  an  advantase,  not  to  be 
hazarded  for  tasteless  novelties,  from  a  perfect  model  of  a  translation 
of  works  of  the  most  remote  antiquity,  into  that  somewhat  antique 
English,  venerable  without  being  obscure,  which  alone  can  fiuthfully 
represent  their  spirit  and  genius.'    pp.  12—18. 

In  addition  to  this  history,  its  lamented  Author  contributed 
to  Dr.  Lardner's  Biographical  Series,  a  life  of  Sir  Thomas 
More,  given  in  vol.  XXI.,  containing  '*  Lives  of  eminent  British 
Statesmen.^  In  that  volume,  Sir  James  has  finely  discriminated 
the  respective  provinces  of  the  historian  and  the  biographer; 
and  he  has  almost  led  us  to  think,  that  he  would  have  found  the 
more  scope,  and  the  more  congenial  field  of  inquiry,  in  the  latter 
department  of  literature. 

Besides  these  works  and  those  already  enumerated,  including 
his  contributions  to  the  Edinburgh  Review,  the  only  work  which 
he  published  is,  the  "  General  View  of  the  Progress  of  Ethical 
Philosophy,"^  which  forms  the  second  preliminary  dissertation 
prefixed  to  the  seventh  edition  of  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica* 


.  Sir  James  Mackintosh.  113 

Of  this  «c^te  «nd  masterly  production,  some  account  will  be  found 
in  our  Number  for  October,  1831.  We  then  noticed,  with  re- 
gret, the  law  of  error  which,  though  not  very  obvious,  runs  like 
a  Tein  throij^h  the  beautiful  formation  of  the  Author^s  philosophy. 
In  the  article  in  the  North  American  Review,  already  referred 
t<s  which  comprises  a  critique  upon  the  Dissertation,  some  dc*> 
ficiencies  of  another  kind  are  pointed  out.  The  most  remarkable 
is  the  absence  of  any  notice  of  the  ethical  theories  of  the  modem 
Germans :  the  French  writers  arc  aho  passed  over  almost  with- 
out notice ;  and  the  work,  besides  being  incomplete,  bears  through^* 
out  the  marks  of  hasty  preparation.     Yet,  adds  the  Writer, 

'  Notwithstanding  these  deficiencies,  it  will  be  read  with  deep 
interest  by  students  of  moral  science,  and  by  all  who  take  an  interest 
in  the  higher  departments  of  intellectual  research,  or  enjoy  the  beauties 
of  elegant  language  applied  to  the  illustration  of  ^'  divine  philosophy.'* 
It  gives  nsy  on  an  important  branch  of  the  most  important  of  the 
sciences,  the  reflections  of  one  of  the  few  master  minds  that  are  fitted 
by  original  capacity  and  patient  study  to  probe  it  to  the  bottom.  It 
is  hiffhly  interesting,  whether  we  agree  with  him  or  not,  to  know  the 
opimons  of  such  a  man,  upon  the  character  of  the  principal  ethical 
writers,  and  upon  the  leading  principles  of  the  science  These  opinions 
are  exhibited  with  every  advantage  of  language  and  manner.  It  is 
difficult  to  imagine  how  tho  union  of  power,  dignity,  and  grace,  which 
may  be  supposed  to  constitute  a  finished  style,  can  be  carried  further 
than  it  is  in  the  writings  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh.  The  moral  tone 
is  also  of  the  purest  and  most  agreeable  kind.  The  work  breathes 
throughout,  a  temperate  enthusiasm  in  the  cause  of  humanity,  and  a 
spirit  of  perfect  toleration  for  opposite  o])inions,  even  of  an  exception-* 
flinle  cast  .  .  .  He  enlarges  with  an  overflowing  fullness  of  heart,  we 
xoay  say,  even  to  exaggeration,  upon  the  merits  of  contemporaries. 
Under  the  influence  of  this  generous  and  amiable  impuLsc,  he  has 
probably  over-rated  the  deserts  of  Benthani,  Brown,  and  Stewart. 
But  how  much  more  noble  is  an  error  of  this  kind,  than  the  petty 
jealousy  which  can  see  nothing  in  living  excellence  of  any  kind,  but  an 
object  of  attack ;  as  the  wasp  approaches  the  fairest  fruits,  only  for  the 
purpose  of  piercing  them  to  the  core !  It  is  indeed  refreshing  and 
delightful,  to  find  one  of  the  most  powerful  minds  of  the  age,  uniting 
the  best  feelings  with  the  highest  gifts  of  intellect,  and  exemplifying 
in  his  own  person  the  moral  graces  which  he  undertakes  to  tench.' 

We  transcribe  with  pleasure  this  encomium,  honourable  both 
to  its  subject  and  to  the  writer,  and  substantially  just.  A  slight 
abatement,  perhaps,  from  the  unqualified  commendation  of  Sir 
Jameses  style,  might  be  made  in  respect  to  an  occasional  want  of 
jierspicuity  and  finished  accuracy.  Nor  should  we  agree  with  the 
Reviewer,  in  ranking  among  the  excellencies  of  an  ethical  writer, 
the  '  toleration  of  exceptionable  opinUniSy  which  is,  assuredly, 
no  proof  of  benevolence,  whatever  candour  and  charity  may  be 
due  to  the  intentions  and  persons  of  those  who  differ  from  us  on 
^  vital  questions."     The  distinction,  one  might  think,  is  obvious 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  o 


jli4  Sir  James  Mackintosh. 

enough ;  yet,  how  repeatedly  are  laxity  of  opinion  or  latitudina^ 
nanism  of  creed,  and  kindness  of  heart  confounded !  * 

Although  Sir  James  possessed  so  great  aptitude  for  literary 
composition,  the  intellectual  exercise  in  which  he  most  deHghted, 
and  in  which  his  fine  powers  and  varied  acquisitions  were  exhibited 
with  most  satisfaction  to  himself  and  most  gratification  to  others, 
was,  conversation.  ^  The  companion  of  all  the  most  distinguished 
'  men  of  his  own  time,  Sheridan,  Parr,  Burke,  Romilly ;  as  in- 
^  timately  acquainted  with  all  the  great  men  of  antiquity ;  with  a 
f  mind  replete  with  ancient  lore  and  modem  anecdote ;  equally 
'  ready  on  all  subjects,  philosophy,  history,  politics,  personal 
'  narrative;  eloquent  without  pomposity,  learned  without  pedantry, 
^  gay,  and  even  witty,  without  affectation ;  there  never  was  a  man 
'  possessed  of  more  advantages  for  colloquial  intercourse/  Of 
these  fascinating  displays  of  his  moral  qualities  and  intellectual 

Eowers,  few  traces,  we  fear,  survive,  except  in  the  recollections  of 
is  friends ;  but  some  of  his  remarks,  taken  down  at  the  time  (in 
1817)»  have  been  pireserved  by  his  American  visiter,  who  was 
much  struck  with  the  copiousness,  elegance,  originality,  and  point 
of  his  conversation.  As  the  journal  in  which  they  appear,  is 
probably  seen  by  few  of  our  readers,  we  shall  make  room  for  the 


•  We  cannot  refrain  from  observing,  that  the  article  from  which  we 
have  cited  this  panegyric  on  Sir  James  Mackintosh^  contains  one  of  the 
inost  flagrant  instances  that  we  have  ever  met  with,  of  that  spurious 
tolerance  which  levels  all  creeds,  places  the  essence  of  virtue  in  the 
intellect,  and  enthrones  mind  upon  the  ruins  of  every  religious 
principle.  The  frigid,  cheerless  if,  with  which  the  following  sentence 
opens,  borrowed  from  a  pagan  historian,  and  worthy  of  the  negative 
creed  of  a  disciple  of  Priestley,  is  a  fit  introduction  to  the  impietv  with 
which  it  closes,  and  to  the  prostitution  of  language  which  woula  seem 
to  make  a  blind,  sinful,  ernng  man  '  the  image  of  the  invisible  God.' 
'  7/*  there  be,— as  we  all  believe  and  hope, — another  and  a  better  world, 
where  the  wise  and  good  repose  tc^ther  from  the  troubles  of  this,  we 
cannot  doubt  that  Mackintosh  is  now  among  its  favoured  tenants, — 
enjoying  the  communion  of  the  high  and  ^fted  minds  whom  he  always 
80  much  loved  and  admired,  the  Platos,  the  Stewarts,  the  Burkes,  tne 
Ciccros, — and  dwelling  in  the  nearer  presence  of  that  sublime  Spirit, 
whose  ineffable  glories  he  has  so  eloquently  though  faintly  shadowed 
forth  in  so  many  splendid  passages  of  his  writings.'  It  is  but  too 
evident,  that  ''  to  be  with  Christ ",  forms  no  element  of  this  Writer's 
joyful  anticipations  of  the  heavenly  society.  Alas  !  that,  in  the  city 
of  the  Pilgrims,  such  sentiments  as  these  should  pass  for  the  eloquence 
of  piety.  The  '  Si  quis  piorum  manibus  locus, — si,  ut  sapientibus 
placet,  non  cum  corpore  exstinguuntur  magnae  animce ' — of  the  classic 
Jfloman,  affects  us  not  more  by  its  beauty,  than  by  its  approximation  to 
Christian  sentiment.  In  the  American  writer,  the  case  is  reversed  : 
we  are  startled  at  the  approximation  to  heathenism. 


t  CI 

€  « 


Sir  James  Mackintoah.  115 

whole,  without  any  apprehension  that  they  will  complain  of  the 
length  to  which  it  will  extend  this  article* 

'  "  Shakspeare,  Milton,  Locke,  and  Newton,  are  four  names  bejtmd 
competition  superior  to  any  that  the  continent  can  put  against  them. — 
It  was  a  proof  of  singular  and  very  graceful  modesty  in  Gray,  that, 
after  bestowing  upon  Shakspeare  a  high  eulogium  in  the  Progress  of 
Poetry,  he  did  not,  when  proceeding  to  the  character  of  Milton,  rashly 
decide  upon  their  relative  merit.  Every  half-read  critic  affirms  at  once, 
according  to  his  peculiar  taste  or  the  caprice  of  the  moment,  that  one 
or  the  other  is  the  superior  poet ;  but  when  Gray  comes  to  Milton j  he 
only  says, — 

' ''  Nor  second  he  that  rode  sublime 
Upon  the  seraph  wings  of  ecstacy." 

Dryden  he  assigns  to  an  inferior  class : — 

Behold  where  Dryden's  less  presumptuous  car. 
Wide  o'er  the  fields  of  glory  bear 
Two  coursers  of  inferior  race,"  &c/ 

'  The  writer  observed,  that  the  German  critics  caU  Dryden  a  man 
walking  upon  stilts  in  a  marsh.— >iSir  James: — "  Depend  upon  it,  they 
do  not  understand  the  language. — Shakspeare's  great  superiority  over 
other  writers  consists  in  his  deep  knowledge  of  human  nature.  Cha- 
teaubriand says  of  him,  '  II  a  souvent  des  mols  ierrihles,'  It  has  been 
thought  by  some,  that  those  observations  upon  human  nature  which  ap- 
pear so  profound  and  remarkable,  may,  after  all,  lie  nearest  to  the  sur- 
face, and  be  taken  up  most  naturally  by  the  early  writers  in  every 
language ;  but  we  do  not  find  them  in  Homer.  Homer  is  the  finest 
ballad-writer  in  any  language.  The  flow  and  fullness  of  his  style  is 
beautiful;  but  he  has  nothing  of  the  deep,  piercing  observation  of 
Shakspeare." 

*  The  writer  mentioned  that  he  had  been  at  St.  Paul's,  and  spoke  of 
the  statues  of  Johnson,  Sir  William  Jones,  and  others  that  he  had 
seen  there.  Sir  James : — '*  It  is  a  noble  edifice,  to  be  sure,  and  we  have 
some  great  men  there ;  but  it  would  be  too  much  to  expect  that  the 
glory  of  the  second  temple  should  equal  that  of  the  first.  One  country 
is  not  sufficient  for  two  such  repositories  as  Westminster  Abbey. — 
Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson  has  given  a  wrong  impression  of  him  in 
some  respects.  When  we  see  four  large  volumes  written  upon  a 
man's  conversation,  through  a  period  of  forty  years,  and  his  remarks 
alone  set  down,  of  all  those  made  at  the  time,  we  naturally  take  the 
idea  that  Johnson  was  the  central  point  of  society  for  all  that  period. 
The  truth  is,  he  never  was  in  good  society ;  at  least,  in  those  circles 
where  men  of  letters  mix  with  the  fashionable  world.  His  brutal,  in- 
tolerant manners  excluded  him  from  it,  of  course.  He  met  good  so- 
ciety, to  be  sure,  at  the  Literary  Club  and  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's. — 
Gibbon  was  asked  why  he  did  not  talk  more  in  the  presence  of  Dr. 
Johnson.  '  Sir,'  replied  the  historian,  taking  a  pinch  of  snuflf,  '  I  have 
no  pretensions  to  the  ability  of  contending  with  Dr.  Johnson  in  bru- 
tality and  insolence.' " 

'  '*  Sir  William  Jones  was  not  a  man  of  first-rate  talent; — he  had  great 

0-2 


116  Sir  James  Mackintosh. 

facility  of  acquisition^  but  not  a  mind  of  the  highest  order.  Reason  and 
imagination  are  the  two  great  intellectual  faculties^  and  he  was  cer- 
tainly not  pre-eminent  in  either.  His  poetry  is  indifferent^  and  his 
other  writings  are  agreeable,  but  not  profound.  He  was,  however, 
a  most  amiable  and  excellent  man." 

'  Speaking  of  the  poets  of  the  day.  Sir  James  observed : — *'  I  very  much 
doubt  whether  Scott  will  survive  long.  Hitherto,  nothing  has  stood  the 
test  of  time,  but  laboured  and  finished  verse ;  and  of  this,  Scott  has  none* 
If  I  were  to  say  which  of  the  poets  of  the  day  is  most  likely  to  be  read 
hereafter,  I  should  give  my  opinion  in  favour  of  some  of  Campbell's  po- 
ems. Scott,  however,  has  a  wonderful  fertility  and  vivacity.  It  may 
be  proper  to  add,  that  the  allusion  is  here  exclusively  to  the  poetry  of 
Scott.  The  Waverley  novels  were  not  generally  attributed  to  him  at 
the  time  when  the  remark  was  made. 

*  "  Rogers's  Pleasures  of  Memory  has  one  good  line, — 

'  The  only  pleasures  we  can  call  our  own.' 

It  is  remarkable  that  this  poem  is  very  popular.  A  new  edition  of 
it  is  printed  every  year.  It  brings  the  author  in  about  200L  per  annum, 
and  yet  its  principal  merit  is  its  finished,  perfect  versification,  which 
one  would  think  the  people  could  hardly  enjoy.  The  subject,  how- 
ever, recommends  itself  very  much  to  all  classes  of  readers." 

'  The  writer  commended  highly  the  language  of  Sir  William  Scott's 
opinions.  Sir  James : — ''  There  is  a  little  too  much  elegance  for  judicial 
dicta,  and  a  little  unfairness  in  always  attempting  to  found  the 
judgement  upon  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  perhaps  slight  ones, 
rather  than  general  principles.  Sir  William  is  one  of  the  most 
entertaining  men  to  be  met  with  in  society.  His  style  is  by  no  means 
so  pure  and  classical  as  that  of  filackstone,  which  is  one  of  the  finest 
models  in  the  English  language.  Aliddleton  and  he  are  the  two  best, 
in  their  way,  of  the  writers  of  their  period.  Middleton's  Free  Inquiry 
is  an  instance  of  great  prudence  and  moderation  in  drawing  conclusions 
respecting  particular  facts  from  general  principles.  His  premises 
would  have  carried  him  much  further  than  he  has  gone.  There  are 
many  fine  passages  in  his  Life  of  Cicero." 

'  Sir  James  said,  that  he  had  received  from  Mr.  Wortman  a  collec- 
tion of  specimens  of  American  eloquence,  and  tliat  Mr.  Wortman 
had  given  it  as  his  opinion,  that  the  faculty  of  eloquence  was  more 
general  in  America  than  in  England,  though  some  individual  Eng- 
lishmen might  perhaps  possess  it  in  a  higher  degree.  The  writer 
remarked,  that  he  thought  our  best  orators  but  little  inferior  to  the  best 
orators  of  the  present  day  in  England ;  and  mentioned  Mr.  Otis,  Mr. 
Randolph,  and  iMr.  Pinkney.  Sir  James: — "  I  have  not  seen  any  of  Mr. 
Otis's  speeches.  I  have  read  some  of  Randolph's,  but  the  efifect  must 
depend  very  much  on  the  manner.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  vulgar 
finery.  Malice  there  is,  too,  but  that  would  be  excusable,  provided  it 
were  in  good  taste. — 

<  *'  Mr.  Adams's  Defence  of  the  Constitution  is  not  a  first-rate  work. 
He  lays  too  much  stress  upon  the  examples  of  small  and  insignifi- 
cant States,  and  looks  too  much  at  the  external  form  of  governments, 
which  is,  in  general,  a  very  indiflferent  criterion  of  their  character. 


Sir  James  Mackintosh,  11^ 

Ilis  fundamental  principle  of  securing  goremment^  by  a  balance  of 
power  between  two  houses  and  an  executive,  does  not  strike  me  as 
very  just  or  important.  It  is  a  mere  puerility  to  suppose  that  three 
branches,  and  no  more  nor  less,  are  essential  to  political  salvation. 
In  this  country,  where  there  are  nominally  three  branches,  the  real 
sovereignty  resides  in  the  House  of  Commons.  Two  branches  are  no 
doubt  expedient,  as  fsLT  as  they  induce  deliberation  and  mature  judgement 
on  the  measures  proposed." 

'  The  writer  mentioned  Mr.  Adams's  opinion,  (as  expressed  in  a  letter 
to  Dr.  Price,)  that  the  French  Revolution  failed  because  the  legislative 
body  consisted  of  one  branch,  and  not  two.  Sir  James : — "  That  circum- 
stance may  have  precipitated  matters  a  little,  but  the  degraded  situa- 
tion of  the  Tiers  Etal  was  the  principal  cause  of  the  failure.  The 
entire  separation  in  society  between  the  nobUsse  and  the  professions, 
destroyea  the  respectability  of  the  latter,  and  deprived  them  in  a  great 
degree  of  popular  confidence.  In  England,  eminent  and  successful 
professional  men  rise  to  an  equality  in  importance  and  rank  with  the 
first  nobles,  take  by  much  the  larger  share  in  the  government,  and 
bring  with  them  to  it  the  confidence  of  the  people.  This  will  for  ever 
prevent  any  popular  revolution  in  the  country. — The  Federalist  is  a 
■well  written  work. — 

*  '*  The  remarkable  private  morality  of  the  New  England  States,  is 
worth  attention,  especially  when  taken  in  connexion  with  the  very  moral 
character  of  the  poorer  people  in  Scotland,  Holland,  and  Switzerland. 
It  is  rather  singular,  that  all  these  countries,  which  are  more  moral  than 
any  others,  are  precisely  those  in  which  Calvinism  is  predominant," 
The  writer  mentioned,  that  Boston  and  Cambridge  had  in  a  great  mea- 
sure abandoned  Calvinism.  Sir  James: — "  I  am  rather  surprised  at  that ; 
but  the  same  thing  has  happened  in  other  places  similarly  situated.  Bos- 
ton, Geneva,  and  Edinburgh  might  once  have  been  considered  as  the 
three  high  places  of  Calvinism,  and  the  enemy  is  now,  it  seems,  in  full 
possession  of  them  all.  The  fact  appears  to  be  a  consequence  of  the 
principle  of  reaction,  which  operates  as  universally  in  the  moral  as  in 
the  physical  world. — Jonathan  Edwards  was  a  man  of  great  merit. 
His  Treatise  on  the  Will  is  a  most  profound  and  acute  disquisition. 
The  English  Calvinists  have  produced  nothing  to  be  put  in  competition 
"with  it.  He  was  one  of  the  greatest  men  who  have  owned  the  authority 
of  Calvin,  and  there  have  been  a  great  many.  Calvin  himself  had  a 
▼ery  strong  and  acute  mind. — Sir  Henry  Vane  was  one  of  the  most 
profound  minds  that  ever  existed ;  not  inferior,  perhaps,  to  Bacon. 
jVIilton  has  a  fine  sonnet  addressed  to  him, — 

*'  Vane,  young  in  years,  in  sage  experience  old." 

His  works,  which  are  theological,  are  extremely  rare,  and  display 
astonishing  powers.  They  are  remarkable  as  containing  the  first  direct 
assertion  of  the  liberty  of  conscience.     He  was  put  to  death  in  a  most 

Eerfidious  manner.  I  am  proud,  as  a  friend  of  liberty,  and  as  an  Eng- 
shman,  of  the  men  that  resisted  the  tyranny  of  Charles  I.  Even  when 
they  went  to  excess,  and  put  to  death  the  king,  they  did  it  in  a  much 
more  decorous  manner  than  their  imitators  in  France.  Thomson  says 
of  them,  with  great  justice,  in  his  florid  way, — 

"  First  at  thy  call,  her  age  of  men  eifulgcd,"  &c. 


118  Sir  James  Mackintosh. 

*  '*  Eloquenoe  is  the  power  of  gaining  your  purpose  by  words.  All  tbe 
laboured  definitions  of  it  to  be  found  in  the  different  rhetorical  works> 
amount  in  substance  to  this.  It  does  not^  therefore,  require  or  admit 
the  strained  and  ihlse  ornaments  that  are  taken  for  it  by  some.  I 
hate  these  artificial  flowers  without  fragrance  or  fitness*  >fobody  ever 
succeeded  in  this  way  but  Burke.  Fox  used  to  say :  '  J  cannot  bear 
this  thing  in  any  body  but  Burke,  and  he  cannot  help  it.  It  is  his  natural 
manner.' — Sir  Francis  Burdett  is  one  of  the  best  of  our  speakers^  take 
him  altogether^  voice,  figure  and  manner.  His  voice  is  the  best  that 
can  be  imagined.  As  to  his  matter,  he  certainly  speaks  above  his  mind. 
He  is  not  a  man  of  very  superior  talents,  though  respectable. — Plunkett, 
if  he  had  come  earlier  into  parliament,  so  as  to  have  learned  the  trade, 
would  probably  have  excelled  all  our  orators.  He  and  counsellor  Phillips 
(or  O'Grarnish,  as  he  is  nicknamed  here,)  are  at  the  opposite  points  of  the 
scale.  0*Grarnish*8  style  is  pitiful  to  the  last  degree.  He  ought  by  com- 
mon consent  to  be  driven  from  the  bar. — Mr.  Wilberforce's  voice  is  beau- 
tiful ;  his  manner  mild  and  perfectly  natural.  He  has  no  artificial  or- 
nament ;  but  an  easy,  natural  image  occasionally  springs  up  in  his  mind« 
that  pleases  very  much. — Cicero's  orations  are  a  good  deal  in  the 
flowery,  artificial  manner,  though  the  best  specimens  in  their  way.  We 
tire  in  reading  them.  Cicero,  though  a  much  greater  man  than  Demo- 
sthenes, take  him  altogether,  was  inferior  to  him  as  an  orator.  To  be 
the  second  orator  the  world  has  produced,  is,  however,  praise  enough. — 
Pascal  was  a  prodigy.  His  Pensees  are  wonderfully  profound  and 
acute.  Though  predicated  on  his  peculiar  way  of  thinking,  they 
are  not  on  that  account  to  be  condemned.  I  dislike  the  illiberality  of 
some  of  my  liberal  friends,  who  will  not  aUow  any  merit  to  any  thing 
that  does  not  agree  with  their  own  point  of  view.  Making  allowance 
for  Pascal's  way  of  looking  at  things,  and  expressing  himself,  his  ideas 
are  prodigiously  deep  and  correct. — Most  of  the  apparent  absurdities  in 
theology  and  metaphysics  are  important  truths,  exaggerated  and  dis- 
figured by  an  incorrect  manner  of  understanding  or  expressing  them ; 
as,  for  instance,  the  doctrines  of  transubstantiation  and  of  total  de- 
pravity.— Jacob  Bryant  was  a  miserable  writer,  though,  for  particular 
purposes,  it  was  thought  expedient  at  one  time  to  sustain  his  reputation, 
lie  was  guilty  of  a  gross  absurdity  in  attempting  such  a  work  as  his 
principal  one  without  any  oriental  learning,  which  he  did  not  even 
profess.  Yet  Sir  William  Jones  called  him  the  principal  writer  of  his 
time.  This  opinion  quite  takes  away  the  value  of  Sir  William's  critical 
judgement."' 

The  American  booksellers  have  announced  for  publication,  a 
selection  from  the  works  of  this  highly  gifted  man ;  and  a  hope  is 
expressed,  in  which  every  reader  will  cordially  participate,  that 
measures  will  be  immediately  taken  in  this  country,  ^  for  collecting 

*  the  whole  of  his  works,  acknowledged  or  anonymous,  with  such 

*  of  his  manuscripts  as  are  in  a  state  for  publication,  and  as  large 
'  an  amount  of  his  correspondence  as  can  be  produced."*  We 
want,  to  use  Sir  Jameses  own  expression,  no  ^  huge  narrative  of  a 

*  life '  in  which  there  were  few  events,-^a  sort  of  literary  funeral 
which  he  justly  stigmatised  as  ^  a  tasteless  parade  \ — ^but  a  well 
edited  collection  of  his  writings  and  remains,  with  a  prefatory 


Brown's  Biblical  Cabinet  119 

memoir  and  such  notes  as  may  be  requisite*  We  know  not 
whether  a  work  of  this  description  is  in  preparation :  it  is  due 
alike  to  the  public  and  to  the  memory  of  the  Author ;  and  the  pen 
of  Mr.  Jeflrey  or  Mr.  Macauley  could  surely  be  commanded  for 
this  tribute  of  private  friendship  and  public  veneration.     *  Non 

*  quia  intercedendum  putem  imaginibusy  quce  marmore^  aut 

*  iBte  JinguntuT :  sed  ut  vultus  homhium^  ita  simulacra  vultiks 
^  imbeciUa  ac  mortalia  sunty  forma  mentis  cetema.'' 


Art.  II. — The  Biblical  Cabinet;  or  Hcrmeneutical,  Exegctical,  and 
Philological  Library.  Vol.  II.  containing  a  Collection  of  Phi- 
lological Tracts  on  the  New  Testament.  Edited  by  John 
Brown^  D.D.     12n]o.    pp.  xiv.  and  309.     Edinburgh^  1830. 

^^UR  pages  have  often  shewn  that  wc  participate  not  in  the 
faith  or  the  fears  (rather,  might  we  say,  the  wishes)  of 
those  would-be  prophets  whose  opinions  have  of  late  outraged 
theology,  and  disgraced  the  profession  of  religion,  and  whose 
forebodings  are  those  of  judgement,  desolation,  and  ruin  to  the 
nadons  of  the  earth,  and  especially  to  the  Christian  Church. 
Amidst  the  darkness  and  the  mysteries  of  providence,  our  firm 
fiuth  is,  that  God  is  carrying  on  the  great  plan  of  his  gospel,  a 
universal  melioration  of  mankind.  In  the  sciences  and  the 
beneficent  arts,  in  the  external  relations  and  the  internal  govern- 
ment of  states,  in  moral  principles  and  in  religious  activity,  we 
aee,  on  every  side,  awakenings,  strivings,  exertions,  and  success, 
at  die  very  idea  of  which,  or  even  but  a  small  part  of  them,  Bacon 
and  Milton,  Usher  and  Wilkins,  Baxter  and  Howe,  would  have 
leaped  for  joy.  The  publication  before  us,  in  its  external  form 
as  remarkaoly  neat  as  its  contents  arc  richly  useful,  is  a  striking 
confirmation  of  our  cheering  position.  True  theology  can  rest 
iMily  upon  the  impartial  interpretation  and  the  genuine  sense  of 
the  Scriptures.  This  is  an  assertion  which,  in  theory  at  least, 
every  Protestant  is  ready  to  maintain :  but  honest  practice  ac- 
cording to  this  principle  has  not  been  so  well  established  in  any 
community  of  Christians,  as  the  reason  of  the  case  and  the  con- 
sistency of  profession  would  lead  us  to  expect.  At  the  Reform- 
ation, a  glorious  beginning  was  made,  and  bright  examples  were 
given.  The  true  principles  of  interpretation,  and  their  application 
to  the  Holy  Wn tings,  were  grasped  and  boldly  professed  by 
Luther'^s  master  mind  ;  and  more  completely  still  by  our  country- 
man, the  martyr  Tyndal,  by  Zuinglius,  by  Bucer,  and,  pre- 
eminently, by  Calvin.  The  religious  public  are  by  no  means 
sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  merit  of  that  great  man  as  a  Bible 
Interpreter.  In  taking  up  and  using  the  proper  instruments  of 
gnunmatical  explication,  in  the  finest  perception  of  results,  in 


130  Brown'v  Biblical  Cahinei. 

spurmng  arbitrary  and  fanciful  imputations  of  meaning,  in 
snewing  himself  free  alike  from  the  bondage  of  undue  reverence  for 
human  authority,  and  from  the  allurement  of  plausible  novelty, 
Calvin  was  above  his  contemporaries,  and  still  further  above  his 
successors.  Indeed,  upon  the  latter,  for  several  generations,  bit 
example  seems  to  have  been  lost  For  more  than  two  centuries,^ 
just  views  and  undeviating  practice  in  the  art  of  eliciting  the  trua 
sense  of  the  Divine  word,  seem  to  have  gone  lamentaUy  back- 
ward. We  may  quote  a  single  paragraph,  which  will  at  once 
fiirnish  a  specimen  of  Calvin^s  exegetical  principles,  and  a  proof 
of  the  defective  attention  which  has  been  paid  to  them  by  many 
wise  and  good  men  in  following  time.  It  is  from  the  condusioft 
of  his  Commentary  on  the  Parable  of  the  Grood  Samaritan. 
*  Neither  is  there  any  sufficient  evidence  for  another  allegorical 
application,  which  has  however  been  found  so  generally  agree- 
able, that  it  has  been  almost  universally  received,  even  with  a 
reverence  due  only  to  a  revelation  from  heaven.  Certain  persons 
have  entertained  the  fancy,  that,  by  this  Samaritan,  Christ  is  re- 
presented, because  he  is  our  Deliverer.  They  have  represented 
the  application  of  oil  and  wine,  as  signifying  the  healing  work 
of  Christ,  by  repentance  and  the  promises  of  ^ace.  They  have 
also  invented  a  third  secret,  namely,  that  Chnst  does  not  restore 
converted  souls  to  spiritual  health  all  at  once;  but  that  he 
commits  them  to  the  care  of  the  Church,  as  the  benevolent 
Samaritan  to  the  host  of  the  inn,  that  they  may  be  properly 
attended  to,  and  in  due  time  restored  to  health.  All  tnis,  I 
confess,  is  very  pretty :  but  it  is  our  duty  to  maintain  a  greater 
reverence  for  the  Scriptures,  than  that  we  should  take  leave 
thus  to  disguise  their  true  and  natural  sense.^ 
Because  the  endeavour  to  ascertain,  by  plain  grammatical 
means,  the  simple  and  only  sense  of  Scripture,  has  been  often 
professed  by  men  unfriendly  to  the  essential  truths  of  Revelation, 
or  whose  writings  indicate  no  sense  of  vital  and  practical  religion^ 
a  prejudice  and  a  dread  have  been  produced  against  those 
principles  of  interpretation,  in  many  excellent  minds.  This 
feeling  has  been  strengthened  by  the  fact,  that  some  of  the 
German  Bible-critics,  whose  works  furnish  important  aid  to  the 
study  which  we  are  anxious  to  recommend,  have  been,  or  are, 
anti-supernaturalists,  that  is,  scarcely  disguised  infidels.  But 
this  is  a  melancholy  and  distressing  fact,  chiefly  on  account  of 
those  unbelievers  themselves.  The  principles  and  rules  which 
they  lay  down,  as  critics  and  philologists,  are  sound ;  and  those 
writers  have  indeed  rendered  good  service  to  the  cause  of 
Christian  truth,  by  their  frequently  establishing,  as  a  matter  of 
historical  fact,  that  the  doctrines  asserted  or  implied  in  the  New 
Testament,  arc  the  very  sentiments  which  form  the  leading 
principles  of  the  Evangelical  or  Orthodox  system ;  while  those 


Btowb'b  Bibtical  Cabinet.  131 

iffibippy  perftms  do  not  defer  to  the  authority  of  the  New 
restameDt  as  a  positive  revelation  from  God.  Thus,  in  many 
ImporUmt  instances^  truth  is  elicited  or  confhmed  by  not  merely 
the  concessions,  but  the  elaborated  and  decided  declarations  of  its 
idversaries.  The  whole  case,  also,  goes  to  confirm,  instead  of 
reakening,  the  momentous  fact,  that  learning,  talent,  and  exe- 
l^cal  skill,  will  not  qualify  a  roan  to  discern  the  beauty  and  feel 
the  power  of  heavenly  doctrine,  unless  his  mind  is  imbued  with 
the  spirit  of  hnmble  piety  and  practical  holiness. 

But  let  it  not  be  thought,  that  the  baptized  infidels  of  the  German 
oniversities  are  the  only  men  of  high  attainments,  unsparing 
liligence,  and  admirable  skill,  in  sacred  philology.  Far,  very 
Tar,  is  this  from  being  the  fact.  In  the  darkest  period  of  the 
ipoaCatising  mania  of  Germany  and  other  parts  of  the  Continent, 
mere  were  always  some  men  of  intellectual  and  literary  power 

3ual  to  that  of  the  Neologistic  party,  who  were  the  firm  friends 
pure  faith  and  unfeigned  Piety.  Within  fifteen  years,  and 
still  more  within  the  last  five,  there  has  been  a  gratifying  increase 
in  the  number  and  in  the  public  activity  of  such  accomplished 
scholars,  endowed  with  fine  talents  of  understanding  and  reasoning, 
smd  who  are  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,  knowing  it  to 
be  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation.  We  may  mention,  premising 
that  this  is  by  no  means  a  complete  enumeration,  Bengel  (the  son 
of  the  excellent  man  of  that  name  in  the  last  century),  Harms, 
the  Tittmanns  (father  and  son,  both  dead),  Orelli,  Planck,  Liicke, 
Schott,  Strauss,  Scheibel,  Geibel  of  Lubeck,  Flatt,  Neander, 
Tweaten,  Theremin,  Tholuck,  Guericke,  Hahn,  Hossbach, 
Olahausen,  Grundtvigt,  Pelt,  and  Steiger ;  this  last  a  young  man  of 
wondrous  promise,  known  to  great  advantage  by  his  Refutation  of 
Wegscheider^s  Institutiones  and  his  Commentary  on  the  First 
Epistle  of  Peter,  and  who  has  last  year  removed  from  Berlin,  to 
be  one  of  the  Professors  of  Exegctical  Theology  in  the  new 
Theological  Academy  at  Geneva. 

It  has  afforded  us  great  pleasure  to  Icam,  that  some  of  the 
ministers  in  Edinburgh  or  its  neighbourhood,  both  of  the 
Established  and  the  Dissenting  denominations,  including  also  the 
Episcopalian,  have  formed  a  kind  of  association  for  the  trans- 
lating and  publishing,  in  an  elegant  and  uniform  manner,  the 
most  valuable  of  the  smaller  works  of  the  German  sacred  critics, 
chiefly  those  of  recent  production.  The  First  Volume,  which  has 
not  yet  fallen  into  our  hands,  contains  a  part,  we  presume  about 
one  naif,  of  Emesti''s  Institutiofiesj  or  ^^  Principles  of  Interpret- 
ation of  the  New  Testament ;  with  copious  Annotations,  by  the 
Rev.  C.  H.  Terrot,  A.M.  late  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge.*^  This  is  the  work  of  which  a  translation  was  pub- 
lished in  1 824  by  the  American  Professor  Stuart ;  with  many 
elucidations  and  notes,  partly  selected  from   the  Acroaaea  o£ 


123  Brown's  Biblical  CMnei. 

Moms  and  the  works  on  Scripture-Interpretation  of  Seller,  Eeil, 
and  Beck,  partly  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Stuart  himself,  and  partly, 
(in  a  London  republication  of  18270  from  that  of  the  English 
editor,  Dr.  Ebenezer  Henderson.  For  the  reason  just  mentioned, 
we  are  unable  to  form  any  estimate  of  Mr.  Terrot's  transUition, 
as  compared  with  Mr.  Stuart's.  There  is  abundant  room  for  a 
useiul  diversity  of  plan  and  topics,  in  whatever  illustrations  Mr. 
Terrot  has  added,  or  may  propose  for  the  remaining  part,  whidi 
is  announced  to  form  a  future  volume  of  the  **'  Biblical  Cabinet.^ 
We  have  been  informed,  that  his  plan  is  to  include  all  the  Notes 
of  Von  Ammon,  with  subjoined  observations  of  his  own,  for  which 
be  will  find  no  small  reason.  The  Editor  of  this  interesting  col- 
lection, which  will  be  as  valuable  for  its  internal  excellence  as  it 
is  beautiful  in  its  external  form  and  its  typography,  is  Dr.  John 
Brown,  of  Edinburgh ;  a  minister  beloved  and  revered  for  his 
own  attainments,  talents,  and  personal  religion,  as  well  as  &r  the 
hereditary  representation  of  his  devoted  fatner  and  his  grandfiither, 
the  holy  and  indefatigable  divine  of  Haddington. 

«  Sensere  quid  mens  rite,  quid  indoles 
Nutrita  jaustis  sub  penetraltbus 
Posset ;  quid  Augusti  patemus 
In  pueros  animus  Nerones. 
Fortes  creantur fortibus  et  bonis' 

The  Treatises  contained  in  the  present  volume,  and  now  first 
given  in  an  English  dress,  are : 

I.  Pfannkuche  on  the  Vernacular  Language  of  Palestine,  in 
the  Age  of  Christ  and  the  Apostles ;  translated  by  T.  6.  Repp. 
This  was  originally  published,  more  than  thirty  years  ago,  m 
Eichhom's  "  Universal  Library  of  Biblical  Literature.**  The 
student  will  not  have  satisfied  himself  on  this  subject,  without 
attentively  considering  the  arguments  advanced  by  Hug  in  his 
"  Introduction  to  the  New  Testament,'^  (Vol.  II.  Sect  X.,)  with 
a  view  to  prove  that  Greek  was  so  commonly  spoken  in  the  cities 
of  Palestine,  during  the  period  under  consideration,  that  it  was 
nearly,  if  not  quite,  of  coequal  currency  with  the  Aramaic ;  that 
this  was  the  proximate  reason  why  the  New  Testament  was  writ- 
ten in  Greek  ;  that  the  original  of  St.  Matthew'^s  Grospel  is  the 
Greek  which  we  possess ;  and  that  the  discourses  of  our  Lord 
were  very  often  delivered  by  him  in  Greek.  It  should  also  not 
be  forgotten  that  a  similar  set  of  positions  was  maintained  by  the 
late  Dr.  John  Jones,  a  man  whom  we  cannot  remember  without 
respect  and  sorrow,  and  who,  with  all  his  eccentricities  and  un- 
happinesses,  frequently  manifested  great  sagacity  on  philological 
questions.  The  Section  of  Hug,  to  which  we  have  referred,  is 
republished  from  Dr.  Wait'^s  translation,  very  much  improved, 
in  No.  IV.  of  Professor  Robinson's  "  Biblical  Repository  ;**  a 


Brown's  Biblical  Cabinet.  123 

work  wbich  is  an  honour  to  America,  such  as  may  well  make  the 
mother-country  feel  ashamed  and  humbled. 

II.  Planck  on  the  True  Nature  and  Genius  of  the  Diction  of 
the  New  Testament;  translated  by  A.  S.  Patterson,  who  is,  if 
we  mistake  not,  a  nephew  of  Dr.  Brown. 

III.  Hints  on  the  importance  of  the  study  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment ;  by  Dr.  Tholuck ;  translated  by  R.  B.  Patton.  Every 
thing  of  Tholuck's  is  interesting  and  instructive.  He  is  a  man 
of  exquisite  learning,  classical,  biblical,  and  oriental ;  of  powerful 
mind,  of  that  genius  and  poetical  tact  without  which  no  man  is 
gaalified  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  sublimest  parts  of  the 
BiUe ;  «nd,  above  all,  a  man  of  warm  and  vital  piety.  The  Edi- 
tor and  his  associates  will  confer  a  distinguished  value  upon  the 
Biblical  Cabinet,  by  bringing  into  it  as  much  as  they  may  be 
able  of  Tholuck''s  various  productions,  both  his  separate  works  and 
the  diief  papers  in  his  (Anzeiger,  &c.)  *^  Literary  Indicator  for 
Christian  Theology  and  Science  in  general,^ — a  periodical  work 
which  he  publishes  every  five  days. 

IV.  Remarks  on  the  Interpretation  of  the  Tropical  Language 
of  the  New  Testament,  by  Dr.  Beckhaus ;  translated  by  Mr. 
Ferrot.  This  is  a  very  useful  and  indeed  necessary  appendage 
to  £mesti''s  chapter  on  Tropical  Language. 

Our  wishes  are  iustly  called  forth,  and  our  recommendation 
is  cordially  given,  that  this  new  contribution  to  the  science  of  Bib- 
lical Critidsm  and  Interpretation  may  be  received  by  the  public 
tu  it  deserves ;  and  that  will  be,  with  warm  approbation  and  ex- 
tensive support. 

We  are  happy  to  see  announced,  for  early  publication  in  a 
Bobeequent  volume,  the  inestimable  work  of  the  younger  Titt- 
mann,  (who  died  December  30,  1831,  at  the  age  of  570  ^^ 
••  The  Synonyms  of  the  New  Testament  ;**"  translated  by  the 
Bev.  Edward  Craig,  one  of  the  Ministers  of  the  Episcopal 
Church  in  Edinburgh.  We  assure  ourselves  that  the  small  but 
important  Supplement,  published  since  the  Author'^s  death,  will 
not  be  omitted.  Brief  editorial  notices  of  the  lives  and  writings 
of  the  authors  brought  forward,  would  be  a  welcome  addition  to 
the  phm  of  the  ''  Biblical  Cabinet."" 


Art.  III.  An  Exposition  of  the  Epistle  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Colossians, 
By  the  Right  Rev.  John  Davenant^  D,D.  Lord  Bishop  of  Salis- 
bury ;  President  of  Queen's  College,  and  Lady  Margaret's  Pro- 
fessor of  Divinity  in  Cambridge :  originally  delivered,  in  a  series 
of  Lectures,  before  the  University.  Translated  from  the  Original 
Latin ;  with  a  Life  of  the  Author,  and  Notes  illustrative  of  the 
Writers  and  Authorities  referred  to  in  the  Work.  By  Josiah 
Allportj  Minister  of  St.  James's,  Birmingham.     To  the  whole  is 


124         Davenant — hU  Life,  WriiingSf  and  Times. 

added,  a  Translation  of  Dissertatio  De  Morte  Christi,  bj  tBe  same 
Prekte.  In  2  vols.  8vo.  pp.lxiv.  1148.  Price  1/.  8f.  Londoo, 
1832. 

"l^E  apprehend  that  comparatively  few  of  cnir  readers  know 
much  of  Bishop  Davenant  Few,  perhapa,  are  mcae  than 
slightly  acquainted  with  his  history ;  and  fewer  still  may  have 
looked  into  his  writings.  A  short  sketch  of  the  one,  and  some 
brief  account  of  the  other,  may,  therefore,  be  an  acceptable  as 
well  as  appropriate  introduction  to  the  remarks  we  intend  to 
offer  on  those  works  which  are  included  in  the  present  pablication, 
as  well  as  on  the  manner  in  which  his  present  Biographer  and 
Translator  has  achieved  his  task. 

Bishop  Davenant  belonged  to  the  third  generation  of  English 
prelates  from  the  Reformation :  he  was,  ecclesiastically  speaking, 
amongst  the  grandchildren  of  the  Reformers.     He  may  justly 
be  ranked,  therefore,  though  not  amongst  the  fathers  of  tne  Eng- 
lish Church,  yet,  amongst  her  most  venerable  names.     He  was 
born  in  1572,  in  Watling  Street,  London.     His  family  boasted 
of  not  only  an  ancient,  but  a  highly  respectable  pedigree.     His 
father  was  an  eminent  merchant.     Of  his  earlier  years  little  is 
known,  except  that  he  even  then  gave  indications  of  that  candour, 
frankness,  and  integrity  which  afterwards  so  highly  distinguished 
him.     In  loH?,  when  no  more  than  fifteen,  he  was  admitted  of 
Queen'*s  College,  Cambridge  ;  and  he  took  his  degree  of  A.M.  in 
1594.     In  the  same  year,  he  was  offered  a  fellowship  ;  bnt  his 
father,  nobly  unwilling  that  his  son  should  appropriate  the  pub- 
lic revenues  of  literature  while  an  expectant  of  a  lai^  fortune, 
would  not  permit  him  to  accept  it.     Liong  afterwards,  when  pre- 
sident of  the  college,  Davenant  had  the  magnanimity  to  follow 
his^fathcr's  example.     He  voted  against  one  of  his  cousin'^s  re- 
ceiving a  fellowship,  softening  his  opposition  by  saying,  ^'  Cousin, 
I  will  shew  your  father  that  you  have  worthy  but  not  tcanU 
enough  to  belong  to  our  Society."*'     In  1597*  however,  he  was 
himself  elected  fellow  against  his  will.     In  1601,  he  obtained  the 
degree  of  B.D. ;  in  1609,  that  of  D.D. ;   and  at  the  same  time 
was  elected,  against  secen  competitors,  Lady  Margaret's  Professor 
of  Divinity.     At  the  same  time.  Archbishop  Abbot  presented 
him    with  the  rectory  of  Cottenham,  in  Cambridgeshire.     In 
those  public  disputations  which,  in  conformity  with  the  spirit  of 
the  age,  then  took  place,  Davenant  was  more  than  once  chosen 
moderator ;    an   honour  which  was  at  once  a  testimony  to  his 
learning  and  a  compliment  to  his  temper.     In   1614,  he  was 
chosen  president  of  his  College.     Four  years  afterwards,  he  was 
appointed  by  James  I.  one  of  the  representatives  of  the  Church 
of  England  at  the  celebrated  Synod  of  Dort.     Four  others  were 
aspociated  with  him ;  George  Carleton,  Bishop  of  IJandaff ;  Hall, 
then  Dean  of  AVorcester ;  S.  ^Va^d,  Master  of  Sydney  College, 


Davenant — hi$  Lifcy  Writings^  and  Times.         125 

Cambridge ;  and  Walter  Balcanqual,  a  presbyter  of  the  Scottish 
Church. 

Into  the  history  of  this  Council,  it  would  be  irrelevant  to  our 
present  purpose  to  enter.  It  is  but  justice,  however,  to  the  Edi- 
tor and  Translator  of  these  works  of  Davenant,  to  remark,  that, 
in  the  biographical  account  of  the  Prelate'^s  life  which  he  has  pre- 
fijced  to  thero,  the  reader  will  find  a  short  history  of  the  Synod  of 
Dort,  written  with  great  clearness,  ability,  and  moderation. 
Though  himself  a  Calvinist,  Mr.  Allport  does  not  hesitate  to  de- 
nounce both  the  constitution  of  the  Council  and  the  manner 
in  which  its  proceedings  were  conducted.  The  Remonstrants 
(chat  is,  as  our  readers  are  aware,  the  Arminian  party)  were 
summoned,  he  jiistly  remarks,   ^not   to  be  heard,   but   to   be 

*  oondemned ;    and    this  was    scarcely    attempted   to    be    con- 

*  cealed.     The  Council  consisted  of  those  alone  whose  views  were 

*  well  known.**  The  Council  was,  in  fact,  a  packed  jury,  who  had 
already  prejudged  the  cause,  and  resolved  upon  their  decision. 
While  admitting  with  exemplary  candour  the  overbearing  and 
nnjust  character  of  the  Synod  of  Dort,  the  Editor  has,  at  the 
flame  time,  volunteered  an  able  vindication  of  its  proceedings 
from  those  calumnious  attacks  which  have  repeatedly  been  made 
by  its  theological  adversaries.  The  arbitrary  and  unfair  consti- 
tution of  the  assembly,  both  facilitated  and  provoked  misrepre- 
sentation and  slander.  Some  of  these  malignant  aspersions,  Mr. 
Allport  traces  with  great  acuteness  to  their  source ;  and  he  exposes 
the  uncandid  manner  in  which  the  enemies  of  Calvinism  have 
reiterated  them,  either  in  a  criminal  defiance  of  known  truth  or  in 
a  scarcely  less  criminal  neglect  of  the  means  of  ascertaining  what 
was  the  truth.  They  have  for  the  most  part  originated  in  a  wil- 
fully mutilated  copy  of  the  decrees  of  the  Council,  purporting  to 
be  above  all  things  a  ^favourable  abridgement^  of  them,  pub- 
lished by  a  Remonstrant  named  Daniel  Tilenus,  who  took  this 
dishonest  mode  of  avenging  his  own  and  his  party^s  wrongs. 
Our  readers  will  find  some  very  curious  statements  on  this  sub- 
ject at  pp.  xviii.,  xix.,  xx.,  of  the  ^^  Life''^ — statements  highly  il- 
lustrative of  the  dishonesty  of  theological  animosity,  of  the 
blind  eagerness  with  which  men  take  up  whatsoever  makes  for 
their  own  cause,  and  of  the  reluctance  with  which  they  surrender 
It.  They  also  place  in  a  very  fair  light,  the  honesty,  impartiality, 
and  diligence  of  the  Editor. 

Of  Davenant'^s  conduct  at  Dort,  suffice  it  to  say,  that  he  and 
his  colleagues  displayed  so  much  ability,  learning,  and  temper, 
that  they  greatly  facilitated  the  proceedings  of  the  council,  and 
received  the  thanks  of  its  members  at  its  termination.  Through- 
out the  whole  of  its  discussions,  they  manifested  a  jealous  regard 
to  the  interests  of  the  ChuAh  of  England,  and  stubbornly  refused 
to  give  even  an  apparent  assent  to  any  thing  which  i^eemed  to 


136         Dtnxmami—kiM  Lifi^  WrUmgB, 

eoDtnTne  her  doctrines  cr  her  dbdpGiie.  S*  fir  did  they  ctrry 
this,  that,  in  manv  instances,  there  vas  mat  reaflOD  to  fear  that 
their  pertinacicT  voold  lead  to  their  sndiaenlT  withdraraig  them- 
aelTes  from  the'cooncil  altogether.  Bnt  such  vas  the  respect  in 
vhich  ther  vere  held,  that  strennoiis  efiorts  vere  nnifonnly  made 
to  aooomroodate  diflTereDces,  and  always  with  success. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  this  scrupalons,  and,  in  our  opinioD, 
sometimes  ludicrous  Tigilance,  ther  were,  when  they  returned 
home,  accused  by  some  enemies  to  Calrinism,  of  haiing  com- 
promised the  dignity  of  the  Church  of  England !  Tbdr  reply 
was,  of  course,  abundantly  triumphant. 

In  1621,  l>avenant  was  nominated  to  the  see  of  Salisbuiy. 
His  consecration  was  delayed,  as  well  as  that  of  some  other 
bbhops-elect,  by  an  unhappy  accident  whidi  happoied  to  Arch- 
bishop Abbot. 

'  As  he  was  using  a  cross-bow  in  Lord  Zooch*s  park,  he  accidentally 
shot  the  keeper.  Foiir  Bishops-elect  were  then  waiting  fat  oonsecra- 
tioD.  Of  these,  Williams^  elect  of  Lincoln^  who,  as  Heylin  saySy  had 
an  eye  to  the  Primacy  in  case  it  had  been  declared  racant ;  and  Land, 
elect  of  St.  David's,  who  had  a  personal  hatred  to  Abbot ;  stated  an 
insoperable  aversion  to  being  consecrated  by  a  man  whose  hands  were 
stained  with  blood.  Davenant  did  not  j<Hn  in  this  unworthy  earil ; 
but  kept  altogether  aloof,  lest  he  should  be  thought  to  act  frnm  prifate 
feelings  of  obligation  to  the  afflicted  Primate:  bnt  despising  the 
groundless  objection  of  those  who,  from  motives  of  personal  mque  and 
ambition,  were  willing  to  eive  up  their  own  high  riews  of  the  indeli- 
bility of  the  Episcopal  cmaracter,  and  act  upon  the  principle  that  it 
became  vitiated  and  abortive  in  its  operations,  by  an  accident  ^idi, 
as  the  King  justly  remarked,  might  have  happened  to  an  anseL  Hie 
rest,  however,  made  so  much  of  their  scruples,  that  a  commusioa  was 
at  length  granted  to  the  Bishop  of  London  and  four  others,  to  dis- 
charge the  Archiepiscopal  function  in  this  case:  and  1^  these, 
Williams  was  consecrated  on  Nov.  11 ;  and  Davenant^  Laud^  and  Gary 
of  Exeter,  on  Nov.  18.'    Vol.  L  pp.  xxxi — xxxii. 

This  was  exactly  like  Laud ;  a  man  who  knew  as  wdl  as  any 
frivolous  ceremonialist  who  ever  lived,  how  to  strain  out  a  enat  and 
swallow  a  camel,  and  who  knew  too  how  to  make  all  his  scru- 
pulosity subserve  the  purposes  of  his  ambition. 

In  tnis  dignified  situation,  Davenant,  it  is  universally  admitted, 
conducted  himself  with  singular  discretion,  blamelessness,  and 
integrity.  Of  this,  his  Biographer  remarks,  it  would  not  be  eaqr 
to  find  a  testimony  stronger  than  that  of  the  Lord  Keeper  WiJU 
liams,  who,  upon  resigning  the  Great  Seal,  and  retiring  to  the 
more  congenial  duties  of  the  see  of  Lincoln,  avowedly  adopted 
Davenant  as  his  model.  For  several  very  interesting  anecdotes, 
strongly  characteristic  of  the  elevated  principle  and  purity  of  cha- 
racter which  distinguished  him,  we  refer  our  readers  to  Mr. 
AUport's  memoir.     Davenant  died  in  1641,  at  the  age  of  71. 


DaoMOfi/— Am  lAfe^  JVriHngs,  and  Times.         127 

It  was  the  misfortune  of  Davenant,  to  outlive  the  attachment 
{  the  bulk  of  the  clergy  of  the  Church  of  England  to  its 
«rly  Calvinism;  the  Calvinism  of  its  founders,  and  which 
jdll  survives  in  the  Articles  of  that  church.  The  venerable 
Prelate  even  fell  under  the  displeasure  of  the  King  for  venturing 
o  preach  on  the  forbidden  subject  of  predestination.     Charles, 

?'  the  advice  of  Laud,  had  enjoined  that  all  *  curious  search  "*  on 
at  subject  should  be  abandoned.    By  the  bye,  we  are  truly  glad 

0  find  tnat,  on  all  occasions,  Mr.  Allport  speaks  of  the  conduct 
if  that  tyrannical  and  narrow-minded  bigot  in  terms  of  the 
trongest  reprobation. 

The  works  of  Davenant  make  about  two  volumes  folio. 
Compared  with  some  of  his  contemporaries,  he  was  far  from  a 
voluminous  writer;  nav*  he  might  be  almost  considered  as  a  mere 
Mifnphleteer ;  albeit  m  our  degenerate  times,  folio  volumes  ap- 
pear formidable  things.  His  compositions  were  for  the  most  part 
n  Latin ;  and  in  the  revision  and  publication  of  them,  he  em- 
ployed almost  all  the  leisure  which  the  arduous  duties  of  his 
miscopate  afforded  him.  They  are  all  theological,  and  most  of 
hem  controversial.  The  most  important  is  the  Exposition  of  the 
Bpistle  to  the  Colossians,  which  occupies  the  principal  part  of  the 
xesent  volumes.  None  can  look  into  them  without  being  con- 
dnced,  that  the  author  was  a  man  of  very  acute  powers  of  reason- 
ng,  and  of  various  and  profound  erudition.  He  was,  in  fact,  one  of 
hat  race  of  men — a  race,  by  the  bye,  which  a  little  more  than  a 
century  eztinffuished — ^who  combined  the  curious  and  profound 
earning  of  die  schoolmen,  and  a  perfect  mastery  of  all  the 
nibtilties  of  the  scholastic  logic,  with  much  of  that  spirit  of  firee 
nquiry  which  the  Reformation  necessarily  originated  and 
fostered;  and  who  therefore  escaped  the  timid  and  narrow 
miiit  which  had  previously  spell-bound  the  faculties  of  men.  On 
tne  other  hand,  he  did  not  live  so  long  after  that  great  event,  as  not 
to  have  received  the  full  impress  of  the  ancient  system  of  educa- 
don  and  intellectual  discipline.  All  his  mental  habits  were  formed 
under  the  influence  of  the  school-logic  and  school-metaphysics. 
Thus,  nothing  is  more  common  than  to  see  the  Protestants  of 
that  age  defeating  Rome  with  her  own  weapons;  calling  into 
]uestion  all  her  doctrines,  but  retaining  all  those  ingenious  modes 
3f  assault  and  battery  which  had  been  devised  and  perfected  in 
the  cloister.  Nor  is  the  scholastic  logic  and  metaphysics,  merely 
Minsidered  as  a  system  of  intellectual  discipline,  by  any  means  to 
be  despised.  The  mischief  was,  that,  instead  of  being  used  solely, 
vt  principally,  as  an  exercise  of  the  reasoning  powers,  or  used  as 

1  test  to  examine  the  validity  of  any  train  of  reasoning,  it  was 
substituted  for  every  other  mode  of  mental  discipline; — nay,  and  as 
the  great,  the  only  instrument  for  the  discovery  of  truth.  We 
aeed  not  wonder  that,  thus  abused,  it  was  a  source  of  far  greater 


128         Dawe^uint^hU  lAfe,  WritimgWj  and  Ttmea. 

evilfl  thsH  advantages.  In  itg  appropriate  sphere,  however,  it 
tended  more  than  any  other  system,  to  improve  the  peirers  of  the 
mind  upon  which  it  was  particuhirly  adapted  to  operate.  It  is 
true,  that  it  often  disguised  what  was  obvious,  and  mystified  what 
was  simple ;  that  it  often  engendered  a  love  of  eternal  and  uni- 
versal disputation ;  that  it  delighted  in  making  subtile  distinctions, 
when  there  were  no  real  differences ;  that  it  often  wasted  scores  of 
pages  in  the  most  idle  logomachy.  It  is  true  also,  that  its  in- 
cessant iteration  of  the  phraseology  and  the  forms  of  logic,  gave  to 
the  books  of  its  votaries  an  unutterably  repulsive  appearance; 
generally  sufficient  to  overcome  the  most  valiant  resolutions  of 
the  doughtiest  student  of  modem  times.  This  last  defect,  indeed, 
-^this  needless,  pertinacious  obtrusion  of  all  the  barbarous  techni- 
calities of  the  scholastic  logic  and  metaphysics,  when,  in  many 
cases,  not  only  is  there  no  necessity  for  explication,  but 
nothing  except  such  explication  needs  to  be  explained, — is  fre- 
quently perfectly  gratuitous,  and  therefore  the  more  vexatious. 
Still,  in  spite  of  all  this,  the  perpetual  conversance  with  these 
logical  and  metaphysical  subtilties  engendered  a  power  of  patient 
abstraction,  and  an  acuteness  of  reasoning,  seldom  witnessed  in 
modem  times.  Many  of  the  schoolmen  were  no  children. 
•  In  the  ^^  life  "^  of  his  author,  Mr.  AUport  gives  from  Bishop 
Hacket^s  life  of  Williams,  an  amusing  description  of  those 
chivalrous  disputations  in  which  the  heroic  divines  of  England 
exercised  their  faculties  and  their  logical  weapons  for  the  battle- 
fields of  mightiest  controversies.  Not  Froissart  himself  could  de- 
scribe some  valiant  passage  of  arms,  or  the  achievement  of  some 
splendid  tournament,  with  greater  enthusiasm  than  that  with  which 
tne  worthy  Bishop  records  the  mighty  shock  of  syllogisms.  Nay, 
these  disputations  were  often  got  up  for  the  express  amusement— 
not  to  say  edification— -of  some  learned  Queen  Bess  or  some 
theological  King  Jamie,  just  as  tournaments  and  games  of  chivaliy 
had  been  the  royal  pastimes  of  a  preceding  age,  and  in  some 
measure  even  of  that  of  which  we  speak.  The  reader,  therefore, 
needs  not  wonder  that,  when  beauty  or  power  rained  down  its  in- 
fluences on  the  doughty  champions,  and  added  the  fire  of  emu- 
lation to  that  of  valour,  the  combatant  often  **iell  to  it%  as 
Bishop  Hacket  says,  "  with  all  quickness  and  pertinency.^  The 
whole  passage  is  so  entertaining  that  we  must  gratify  our  readers 
by  transcribing  it. 

'  It  is  amusing  to  hear  the  coh  amore  animation  with  which  the 
excellent^  but  pedantic  Bishop  Hacket^  in  his  Life  of  Archbishop 
Williams^  p.  26^  records  these  academical  feats.  Speaking  of  one 
super-eminent  disputant.  Dr.  Collins,  he  thus  proceeds :  — ''  He  wa&  a 
firm  bank  of  earth,  able  to  receive  the  shot  of  the  greatest  artillery. 
His  works  in  print,  against  Eudnmon  and  Fitzherbert,  sons  of  Anak 
among  the  Jesuits^  do  noise  him  fur  and  wide.     But  they  that  heard 


Davenafit^-^hia  Life^   Writings ^  and  Times.         129 

him  speak  would  most  admire  him.  No  flood  can  be  compared  to  the 
spriDg-tide  of  his  language  and  eloquence,  but  the  milky  river  of  Nilus, 
with  his  seven  mouths  all  at  once  disemboguing  into  the  sea.  O  how 
▼oluble !  how  quick !  how  facetious  he  was !  What  a  Vertumnus,  when 
he  pleased  to  argue  on  the  right  side,  and  on  the  contrary.  Those 
things  will  be  living  to  the  memory  of  the  longest  survivor  that  ever 
heard  him.  In  this  trial,  wherein  he  stood  now  to  be  judged  by  so 
many  attic  and  exquisite  wits,  he  strived  to  exceed  himself,  and  shewed 
his  cunning  marvellously  that  he  could  invalidate  every  argument 
brought  against  him  with  variety  of  answers.  It  was  well  for  all 
sides,  that  the  best  divine,  in  my  judgement,  that  ever  was  in  that 
place.  Dr.  Davenant,  held  the  reins  of  the  disputation.  He  kept  him 
within  the  even  boundals  of  the  cause ;  he  charmed  him  with  the  Ca-> 
ducaean  wand  of  dialectical  prudence ;  he  ordered  him  to  give  just 
weight,  and  no  more.  Horat.  1.  1.  Od.  3.  Quo  von  arbiter  Adrice 
major,  loliere  seu  ponerc  vult  freia.  Such  an  arbiter  as  he  was  now, 
such  he  ^vas  and  no  less,  year  by  year,  in  all  comitial  disputations ; 
wherein  whosoever  did  well,  yet  constantly  he  had  the  greatest  ac- 
clamation. To  the  close  of  all  this  Exercise,  I  come.  The  grave  elder 
3>ponents  having  had  their  course,  Mr.  Williams,  a  new  admitted 
achelor  of  Divinity,  came  to  his  turn,  last  of  all.  Presently,  there 
was  a  smile  in  the  face  of  every  one  that  knew  them  both,  and  a  pre- 
judging that  between  these  two  there  would  be  a  fray  indeed.  Both 
jealous  of  their  credit,  both  great  masters  of  wit ;  and  as  much  was 
expected  from  the  one  as  from  the  other.     So  they  fell  to  it  with  all 

Jiuickness  and  pertinencv ;  yet,  thank  the  Moderator,  with  all  candour : 
ike  Fabius  and  Marcellus,  the  one  was  the  buckler,  the  other  the 
sword  of  that  learned  exercise.  No  greyhound  did  ever  give  a  hare 
more  turns  upon  Newmarket  heath,  than  the  replier  with  his  su!)tle- 
ties  gave  to  the  respondent.  A  su!)ject  fit  for  the  verse  of  IMr.  Abra- 
ham Hartwell,  in  his  Regina  Literata,  as  he  extols  Dr.  Pern's 
arguments  made  before  Queen  Elizabeth :  Qtiis  fulminc  tanto  tela 
jacei  f  tanto  Jfdmine  nemo  jacel.  But  when  they  had  both  done  their 
best  with  equal  prowess,  the  Marshal  of  the  Field,  Dr.  Davenant,  cast 
down  his  warder  between  them,  and  parted  them.'*'    Vol.  I.  pp.  x — xi. 

By  this  long  process,  by  this  severe  logical  discipline,  was 
Davenant  prepared  for  the  services  which  he  afterwards  rendered 
to  the  cause  of  religion.  His  *  Exposition  \  as  well  as  all  his  works, 
bears  marks  of  the  character  thus  impressed  upon  his  mind. 

There  is  a  letter  of  Davenant'^s  to  Bishop  Hall,  so  curiously 
illustrative  of  the  character  of  his  mind,  as  well  as  of  the  spirit  of 
the  age,  that  we  cannot  refrain  from  referring  to  it.  Bishop  Hall, 
in  his  treatise  entitled,  *'  The  Old  Religion*''*,  had  ventured  to  de- 
signate the  Church  of  Rome,  though  so  sadly  corrupt,  as  yet  a 
•*  true  visible  church.*^  For  this  he  was  most  severely  censured : 
whereupon  he  writes  to  Davenant,  requesting  him  to  give  his  most 
lo^cal  consideration  upon  this  perplexing  matter,  and  to  ^  com- 
purgate  **  him  from  all  taint  of  heresy.  One  might  think  that 
this  matter  might  have  been  very  easily  disposed  of;  that  the 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  p 


130  Davenant — his  Life^  Writings^  and  Times. 

whole  difficulty  admitted  of  a  very  concise  and  easy  solution,  by 
shewing  that  the  word  ^  true''  was  ambiguous; — that  if  Bishop 
Hall  meant  what  he  did  mean,  viz.,  that,  notwithstandinflr  the 
conaiptions  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  the  great  principles  of 
Christianity  were  still  so  far  recognized  that  a  man  may  be — as 
many  have  been — saved  within  its  pale,  he  meant  what  was  very 
reasonable;  but  that  if  he  meant  that  it  was  a  *^  true^  church,  as 
fairly  exemplifying  the  character  and  adequately  fulfilling  the 
purposes  of  the  Christian  Church,  he  asserted  what  was  noto- 
riously false.  Bishop  Davenant  comes  to  all  this  in  time ;  but  it 
is  of  course  by  a  long  process,  and  by  a  due  observance  of  all  the 
formalities  of  definition  and  syllogism.  The  first  paragraph  fix)m 
this  letter,  we  will  give  our  readers  by  way  of  a  treat. 

'  "  To  the  Bight   Reverend   Father  in   God,   Joseph^   Lord 
Bishop  of  Exon>  these. 
'  "  My  Lord : 

'  "  You  desire  my  opinion  concerning  an  assertion  of  yours,  whereat 
some  have  taken  offence.  The  proposition  was  this,  '  that  the  Roman 
Church  remains  yet  a  True  Visible  Church.* 

'  "  The  occasion,  which  makes  this  an  ill-sounding  proposition  in 
the  ears  of  Protestants,  cs])ecially  such  as  are  not  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  School  Distinctions,  is  the  usual  acceptation  of  the  word  '  true ' 
in  our  English  Tongue :  for,  though  men  skilled  in  metaphysics  hold 
it  for  a  maxim,  Ensj  Ferum,  Bomim  convertuntur ;  yet,  with  us,  he 
which  shall  affirm  such  a  one  is  a  true  Christian,  a  true  Gentleman, 
a  true  Scholar,  or  the  like,  he  is  conceived  not  only  to  ascribe  tnieness 
of  being  unto  all  these,  but  those  due  qualities  or  requisite  actions 
whereby  they  are  made  commendable  or  praise-worthy  in  their  several 
kinds/'*'     *•    •     • 

'  **  I  therefore  can  sav  no  more  respecting  your  mistaken  proposition, 
than  this :  If,  in  that  'Treatise  wherein  it  was  delivered,  the  antece- 
dents or  consequents  were  such  as  served  fitly  to  lead  the  Beader  into 
that  sense,  which,  under  the  word  True,  comprehendeth  only  Truth  of 
Being  or  Existence,  and  not  the  due  Qualities  of  the  thing  or  subject, 
you  have  been  causelessly  traduced.  But,  on  the  other  side,  if  that 
proposition  comes  in  ex  abrupto,  or  stands  solitary  in  your  Discourse, 
you  cannot  marvel  though,  by  taking  the  word  True  according  to  the 
more  ordinary  acceptation,  your  true  meaning  %vas  mistaken."  * 

Vol.  I.  pp.  XXXV— XXX vi. 

The  two  volumes  which  the  Translator  has  here  presented  to 
the  English  public,  contain,  besides  the  Exposition  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  C -olossians,  a  short  essay  '  on  the  diversity  of  degrees  in 
*  the  ministers  of  the  gospeP;  (in  other  words,  a  defence  of  Epis- 
copacy, and  forming  tne  xLvith  of  his  '  Deferminatinnes'*;)  and 
a  valuable  '  dissertation  on  the  Death  of  Christ.**  This  dissertation 
occupies  alK)ut  half  the  second  volume. 

The  '  Exposition  ^  exhibits  all  the  peculiar  excellencies  of  Da« 
venant'*8  mind,  and  all  the  peculiar  defects  of  his  age.    It  displays 


Daf>enani — his  Life^   Writings^  and  Timea.  131 

learning,  most  yariouB  and  deep ;  a  thorough  and  facile  acquaint- 
ance with  the  whole  race  of  Fathers  and  school  divines ;  no  ordinary 
powers  of  argument ;  together  with  that  great  j)re-requisite  for  a 
successful  interpretation  of  Scripture, — a  sound  and  impartial 
judgement ;  and  the  whole  is  pervaded  by  a  spirit  of  piety  at  once 
9ober  and  ardent,  the  doctrinal  being  well  illustratea  by  the 
practicaL 

As  almost  every  commentary  has  its  peculiar  excellence,  arising 
from  the  constitution  of  the  writer's  mind,  or  the  character  of  his 
attainments,  we  should  say  that  the  princi])al  value  of  this  Ex- 
position consists  in  the  large  and  comprehensive  e.vcnrsus  in 
which  the  good  Bishop  indulges  on  the  papistical  and  Calvinistic 
controversies,  whenever  a  single  text,  or  e^en  an  incidental 
allusion  affords  him  an  opportunity.  Indeed,  in  this  way,  almost 
the  whole  of  those  vast  questions  is  brought  under  review,  and 
treated  in  a  very  able  manner.  And  if,  instead  of  having  been 
thrown  in  with  the  *  nidi^i  indigestaqne  moles  "^  of  a  general  ex- 
position, they  had  been  arranged  and  published  in  a  methodical 
form,  they  would  have  constituted  an  admirable  treatise  on  the 
great  questions  with  which  they  are  occupied.  It  is  an  annoying 
circumstance,  that  much  of  our  most  valuable  theological  literature 
has  been  published  in  the  form  of  loose  commentary.  Contro- 
versial matter  thus  distributed,  labours  under  this  two-fold  dis- 
advantage ;  1st,  it  is  oflen  buried  altogether  under  a  mass  of  very 
diversified  and  by  no  means  mutually  connected  observations ;  and 
2ndly,  it  is  furnished  in  such  scraps  and  fragments  as  to  repel, 
rather  than  invite  the  reader.  Bishop  Davenant  was  thoroughly 
master  of  the  Romish,  as  well  as  the  Calvinistic  controversy.  On 
these  he  is  always  able. 

We  have  said  that  the  defects  of  the  Commentary  are  the  de- 
fects of  the  age ;  while  its  excellencies  are  those  of  Davenant. 
Among  the  principal  of  these  defects,  we  have  specified  the  large 
infusion  of  scholastic  logic,  theology,  and  metaphysics  which  cha- 
racterize it ;  and  the  unmethodical  and  scattered  way  in  which 
the  most  valuable  disquisitions  are  thrown  together.  The  latter 
defect  may,  perhaps,  be  disputed,  inasmuch  as  it  may  be  alleged, 
that  such  a  mode  of  writing  is  inseparable  from  commentary :  our 
reply,  is,  why  attempt,  then,  enlarged  discussion,  profound  dis- 
quisition, in  the  shape  of  a  general  commentary  ?  A  few  brief  re- 
marks, critical  and  explanatory,  and  a  practical  improvement,  are 
all  that  a  general  commentary  can  admit.  Lengthened  and 
elaborate  reasoning  on  any  (me  subject,  had  better  be  prosecuted 
separately;  not  incidentally,  still  less  simultaneously  with  a 
thousandothermattcrs,  each  differing  from  every  other  in  nature  and 
importance.  Besides  these  more  serious  defects,  there  are  other 
minor  ones,  which  obscure  and  depreciate  most  of  the  theological 
works  of  that  age.    One  is,  the  endless  subdivision,  which  is  often 

!•   2 


132         Davenant — hU  Life^  WritingSj  and  Timm. 

80  minute,  that  it  confounds  the  memory  and  perplexes  the  under- 
standing a  thousand  times  more  than  leaving  the  subject  without 
any  formal  divisions  at  all.  This  was  an  almost  universal  defect 
of  the  age ;  and  indeed,  Davenant  is  not  so  chargeable  with  it  as 
very  many  of  his  contemporaries.  Nothing  tends  to  assist  the  mind 
more  effectually  than  broad  and  philosophic  classification ;  nothing 
to  confound  it  more  than  one  too  complicated  and  too  minute. 

Another  unhappy  defect  of  all  our  elder  commentators,  is,  that, 
in  the  desire  to  leave  no  part  of  the  subject  untouched,  they 
illustrate  the  plainest  and  most  unimportant  matters  with  an 
amplitude  perfectly  ludicrous ;  pursue  every  theme  into  its  remotest 
bearings,  and  indulge  in  endless  digressions,  episodes,  and  wander- 
ings. All  this  would  be  bad  enough,  if  writing  only  on  one  sub- 
ject ;  if,  as  in  our  time,  a  wise  application  of  the  principle  of  the 
division  of  labour  had  broken  up  the  whole  science  of  biblical 
illustration  into  several  distinct  provinces,  and  disjoined  verbal 
criticism,  for  instance,  from  other  branches.  But  such  a  dis- 
cursive method  appears  intolerable,  when  we  consider  that  the 
whole  business  of  sacred  criticism  and  exposition  was  carried  on 
at  once,  and  that  the  same  commentary  consisted  of  several 
elaborate  series  of  disquisition,  critical,  exegetical,  historical, 
geographical,  doctrinal,  and  practical.  It  is  indeed  wonderfiil, 
considering  all  this,  that  our  forefathers  should  have  dwelt  with 
such  insufferable  tediousncss  and  prolixity  on  matters  which  re- 
quired no  explanation ;  as  though  the  object  had  been  to  say  as 
much  as  could  possibly  be  said  on  any  given  topic,  not,  as  much 
as  was  to  the  purpose.  Neither  do  they  appear  to  have  been 
aware  of  the  propriety  of  leaving  whatever  is  not  peculiar  to 
the  book  on  which  they  undertake  to  comment,  to  works  of 
general  reference  on  the  subjects  of  biblical  geography,  his- 
tory, &c.  Each  commentary  is  found  to  contain  distinct,  and 
often  lengthy  disquisitions,  not  only  on  what  is  not  peculiar  to  the 
book  on  which  the  commentator  is  engaged,  but  on  points  which 
recur  a  thousand  times  in  Scripture.  To  illustrate  our  meaning, 
is  it  not  as  needless  as  it  is  absurd,  to  commence  a  commentary 
on  each  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles  with  a  long  excursus  on  the  name, 
birth,  conversion,  labours,  life,  death,  &c.  of  the  Apostle  ?  Would 
not  common  sense  teach,  that,  as  that  name  occurs  so  of^n  in 
Scripture,  all  that  may  be  said  in  one  place,  would  come  in 
with  just  as  much  propriety  elsewhere,  and  that  it  would  be  bet- 
ter, therefore,  to  leave  such  matters  to  some  general  book  of 
Scripture  illustration  ?  Now  how  does  Davenant  begin  his  com- 
mentary ?  Having  cited  the  first  two  verses  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Colossians,  comprising  the  '  title"*  or  address,  he  says  :  *  In  the 

*  title  three  things  are  to  be  observed  :  the  subscription ;  the  in- 

*  scription  ;  and  the  salutation.''     He  then  tells  us,  that  he  shall 
say  but  little  concerning  the  name  of  the  Apostle:— that  is  to 


Davenant — his  Life^   Writings^  and  Times.         133 

say,  he  confines  his  observations  to  a  full  octavo  page ;  brevity 
itself,  we  admit,  for  those  times ;  supporting  his  statements  by 
adducing  or  referring  to  the  opinions  of  Augustine,  Origen,  &c. 
On  the  life  of  Paul,  he  contents  himself  with  referring  to  certain 
writings  in  which  an  account  of  the  great  Apostle  may  be  found. 
*^  An  Apostle,^  is  the  next  word  which  seems  to  demand  elaborate 
explanation ;  and  the  apostleship  of  Paul  in  particular  is,  of  course, 
vindicated  at  length.  These  topics  occupy  about  two  pages. 
The  rest  of  these  two  verses  are  anatomized  and  expanded  in  the 
same  way.  So  that  the  first  two  verses  of  this  Epistle,  simple 
as  they  are,  actually  occupy  more  than  fifty  pages!  Now 
what  can  be  more  obvious,  than  that  all  this,  in  addition  to  its 
being  for  the  most  part  already  known,  would  with  equal  pro- 
priety be  repeated  by  any  commentator  who  should  undertake  to 
expound  any  portion  of  the  apostolic  writings  in  which  these 
names  or  words  occur  ?  If  we  once  adopt  such  a  principle  of  ex- 
position, if  we  will  persist  in  illustrating  what  is  plain,  and  ampli- 
fying what  is  simple,  if  we  will  pursue  any  subject  even  to  its  re- 
motest relations,  making  every  word  the  subject  of  distinct  and  in- 
terminable digressions,  there  is  no  fixing  a  limit  to  such  labours ; 
since  any  text  may  be  made  the  foundation  of  a  biblical  cyclo- 
pedia, a  theme  for  a  thousand  excursus.  This  it  is,  which  has 
rendered  the  commentators  of  our  elder  theologians, — very  many 
of  which  contain  much  valuable  matter — so  cumbersome  and 
so  tedious,  and,  as  they  generally  repel  the  reader,  so  compara- 
tively profitless.  Their  authors  have  buried  themselves  beneath 
the  pile  of  their  own  ill  applied  erudition  ;  have  built  themselves 
up  in  their  own  sepulchres. 

Such  are  the  defects  of  Bishop  Davenant'*s  Exposition :  its  ex- 
cellencies are  such  as  might  be  expected  from  a  man  of  singular 
acuteness  of  mind,  vast  theological  learning,  sober  judgement,  and 
elevated  piety.  What  we  have  said,  is  not  intended  to  deter  our 
readers  (more  especially  those  whose  peculiar  study  is  theology) 
from  looking  into  this  and  other  books  of  the  same  character,  and 
published  in  the  same  age;  but  to  assure  them  that, notwithstanding 
these  defects  of  method,  which  lie  on  the  surface,  and  are  un- 
happily but  too  obvious  to  casual  inspection,  there  are  often 
treasures  of  learning  and  argument  to  be  found  in  them,  which 
will  repay  a  diligent  search,  if  not  a  continuous  perusal.  The 
redundancies  are  easily  seen,  and  may  be,  therefore,  passed  over. 
When  we  say  that  the  redundancies  may  be  passed  over,  we  can- 
not refrain  from  hinting  at  the  same  time,  that  it  would  perhaps 
be  well  if  the  modern  editors  of  our  older  commentators  would 
sometimes  save  their  readers  the  trouble  of  selection,  by 
omitting  those  parts  of  the  originals  which  are  confessedly  mere 
exuberances,  and  egregious  trifling.     Let  us  not,  however,  be 


184         Davenant'—hia  Life^  Writings,  atid  Tifnes* 

misunderstood  as  wishing  to  sanction  tbose  meagre  mutilations 
of  our  older  writers  which  sometimes  issue  from  tne  press  in  the 

£  resent  day  ;  editions  in  which  much  that  was  wortti  retaining 
as  been  omitted^  and  all  that  is  worthless  retained ;  in  which 
the  language  of  the  author,  under  the  pretence  of  modernising  it, 
has  been  robbed  of  all  its  raciness  and  all  its  energy ;  in  which, 
in  short,  the  whole  book  has  been  unjustifiably  tampered  with. 
In  too  many  instances,  such  abridgements  have  been  attended 
with  the  grossest  injustice  to  the  unhappy  author  who  has  been 
subjected  to  the  emendations  of  the  critical  Procrustes.  What- 
ever is  given,  ought  undoubtedly  to  be  given  in  the  author^s  own 
language,  and  with  all  his  peculiarities  of  thought,  expression, 
and  manner.  But  the  abridgement  of  commentators  cannot  do 
much  mischief:  the  task  is  plain  and  easy.  It  is  only  to /€are 
out  those  already  perfectly  detached  passages  which  are  irrele^ 
vant,  and  therefore  tedious.  Abridgement  in  a  work  of  conti- 
nuous reasoning,  or  upon  one  subject,  is,  indeed,  no  easy  matter, 
and  is  to  be  attempted  only  by  those  in  whom  reverence  for  de- 
parted genius  is  united  with  a  sound  and  sober  judgement.  But 
in  cutting  down  a  bulky  commentary  to  something  like  genteel 
proportions,  it  must  require  peculiar  genius  for  blundering,  to 
perform  the  task  otherwise  than  well. 

Davenant''s  Exposition  is  valuable,  not  as  a  book  for  continuous 
perusal,  but  as  a  work  of  reference,  in  which  the  reader  will  find 
most  of  the  disputed  points  of  the  Papistical,  Calvinistic,  and 
some  minor  controversies  treated  with  great  acuteness,  learning, 
and  judgement.  All  that  is  wanted,  therefore,  to  enable  the 
theological  student  to  make  easy  use  of  this  valuable  work,  is  a 
copious  index ;  and  this,  we  are  pleased  to  notice,  Mr.  AUport 
has  supplied.  It  is  of  course  difficult  to  select  a  portion  suf. 
ficiently  brief,  and  yet  sufficiently  characteristic  of  the  several  ex- 
cellencies and  defects  of  which  we  have  spoken  ;  but  the  follow- 
ing observations  must  suffice  :  if  the  former  part  edifies,  the  latter 
cannot  but  amuse  our  readers.  It  will  be  seen  with  what  gravity 
and  seriousness,  the  theologians  of  that  age  set  themselves  to  the 
demolition  of  the  most  ludicrous  fallacies. 

'  Failh  in  Christ  JesusP^  The  Apostle  shews  the  object  of  Christian 
faith  ;  not  the  general^  or  adequate  object,  but  the  principal ;  and^  if 
we  regard  the  act  of  justification,  the  peculiar  object. 

'  The  general  and  adequate  object  of  faith  is,  all  the  truth  revealed 
by  God  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  There  is  a  sort  of  general  fiiith  which 
answers  to  this  description,  and  which  by  a  sure  persuasion  resolves 
that  whatever  things  are  made  manifest  in  the  word  of  God,  are  most 
true.  But  this  general  assent  of  faith  cannot  justify  ;  because  jasti6- 
cation  brings  with  it  peace  of  conscience,  purification  of  heart>  free 
access  to  God,  and  many  other  privileges,  of  which^  doubtless,  any  one 


Davenant — his  Life^   Writings^  and  Times,         135 

timf  be  void>  notbwithstanding  his  Hrmly  believing  the  whole  Scripture 
to  be  true  and  inspired  by  God :  For  the  devil  himself  knows  the 
Scriptureii^  and  acknowledges  them  to  have  proceeded  from  the  Author 
of  truth.  Therefore,  in  this  general  object  of  faith,  viz.  the  word  of 
God>  there  is  one  special  and  main  object  which  is  principally  to  be 


ooBsidered  by  a  believer,  and  to  which  all  other  things  that  arc  de- 
livered in  the  Scriptures  have  a  certain  relation  and  reference,  as 
Darandus  speaks,  in  Prolog.  Sent.  And  this  object,  is,  Christ  Jesus 
in  the  character  of  a  Mediator  and  Saviour,  which  is  intimated  under 
his  Tery  names ;  for  Christ  Jesns  means  nothing  else  than — anointed 
Satiour. 

*  Now  it  is  clear  from  the  Scriptures,  that  he  is  the  principal  object 
of  £uth,  and  that  all  other  things  which  are  delivered  in  the  Scriptures 
regard  Christ  as  their  end  and  aim.  John  v.  39,  Search  the  Scriptures, 
they  testify  of  me;  and  a  little  after,  Moses  wrote  of  me.  So  in  Luke, 
nit.  ver.  44,  All  things  must  be  fulfilled  which  are  written  in  the  law  of 
MoSes,  and  in  the  Prophets,  and  in  the  Psalms  concerning  me.  So  it 
ia  affirmed  concerning  the  whole  law,  that  it  was  a  Schoolmaster  to  bring 
us  to  Christ.  Him  the  prophets  described ;  Him  the  ceremonies  of 
the  law  shadowed  forth ;  Him,  in  short,  with  all  his  benefits,  the 
Ooopel  offers  and  exhibits  to  us.  The  Apostle,  therefore,  has  rightly 
plac^,  as  the  special  and  principal  object  of  faith,  not  the  Word  of 
God  in  general,  but  Christ  Jesus  our  Saviour  and  Mediator,  who  is 

Erincipally  regarded  by  a  believer,  and  to  whom  all  things  in  Scripture 
ave  reference. 
'  Now  from  hence  it  follows,  that  the  proper  and  principal  act  of 
justifying  faith,  is  the  apprehension  and  ])articular  application  of  the 
gratuitoBS  promises  which  are  offered  to  believers  in  this  Mediator, 
Christ.  Which  particular  and  justifying  faith  includes  general  faith ; 
for  if  it  should  waver  in  general  concerning  the  truth  of  the  divine 
word,  it  could  not  confide  in  particular  concerning  the  promises  made  to 
us  in  Christ  the  Mediator;  but  it  justifies,  not  so  far  as  it  assents  in 
general  to  the  divine  word,  but  so  far  as  it  is  applied  to  this  its  prin- 
cipisl  and  peculiar  object,  viz.  to  the  promises  of  grace  in  the  Mc« 
diator. 

*  Which  is  evident,  first,  because,  as  Tliomas  expresses  it,  1  quaest.  45, 
art.  6,  the  JHstiJication  of  a  sinner  pertains  to  the  goodness  and  the 
mercy  of  God  superabundantly  diffusing  itself  But  we  neither  can, 
nor  ought,  to  seek  or  apprehend  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God,  in- 
dependently of  the  promises  of  grace,  which  are  made  and  ratified  to 
us  in  Christ  the  Meaiator  :  therefore  in  these  alone,  as  in  the  proper 
object,  the  act  of  justifying  faith  is  exercised,  when  and  as  far  as  it 
justifies. 

'  Thirdly,  we  shew  this  from  clear  testimonies  of  Scripture.  Acts 
xiii.  38,  39,  Through  Christ  is  preached  the  forgiveness  of  sins  ;  and 
by  him  all  that  believe  are  justified  from  all  things  from  which  ye  could 
wai  be  justified  by  the  law  of  Moses,  And  Rom.  iii.  21,  22,  But  now 
tike  righteousness  of  God  without  the  law  is  manifested^  being  witnessed 
itu  the  law  and  the  prophets  ;  even  the  right eotisness  of  God  which  is  by 
JaUM  of  Jesus  Christ  unto  all  and  upon  all  them  that  believe. 


136  Davenant — his  Life^  Writin^Sf  and  Times. 

'  I  argue  these  points  the  more  at  large,  because  Bellannin,  De  jnstif. 
lib.  i.  cap.  8;  &:c.  says,  that  justifying  faith  is  a  general  assent  to  all 
things  which  are  contained  in  the  word  of  God ;  and  makes,  not  the 
promises  of  grace,  but  the  whole  revelation  of  God,  the  object  of  this 
faith.  If  ho  intends,  that  justifying  faith  assents  to  the  whole  divine 
word,  we  willingly  concede  it :  but  if  he  denies  that  it  has  a  certain 
principal  object  in  the  word  which  it  regards  before  all  others  in  the 
act  itself  of  justifying,  viz.  Christ  the  Mediator,  and  his  gratuitous 
promises  concerning  the  remission  of  sins,  he  is  opposed  to  St.  Paul, 
who,  in  a  hundred  places,  names  Christ  as  the  principal  object  of  futh, 
not  the  word  in  general :  he  also  opposes  even  Aquinas,  who  says,  that 
foith  in  the  act  ^justifying  does  not  even  regard  and  contemplate  all 
the  articles  of  faith  alike,  much  less  the  whole  word  of  God,  but  only 
God  as  remitting  sins, — But  here  a  doubt  which  is  raised  by  the 
Schoolmen  may  be  briefly  solved. 

*  They  ask.  How  Christ  can  be  the  object  of  faith,  when  faith  has  for 
its  object  an  enunciation  or  proposition  revealed  by  Grod  ?  Christ  is  a 
thing,  and  (as  the  Logicians  say)  an  incomplex  term,  not  a  proposition 
in  which  truth  or  falsehood  is  perceived. 

'  It  is  answered.  That  is  called  an  object  of  faith,  which  is  either 
believed  itself,  or  concerning  which  any  thing  is  believed.  The  thing 
itself  which  is  believed,  is  a  proposition  or  enunciation;  that  concerning 
which  it  is  believed,  is  a  thing  signified  by  a  simple  term,  as  Durandus 
says.  Aquinas  more  plainly  remarks :  The  object  of  faith  is  r^arded 
in  a  twofold  manner :  either  on  the  part  of  the  thing  believed ;  and  so 
the  object  of  faith  is  always  something  incomplex,  viz.  the  thing  itself 
concerning  which  the  propositions  of  &ith  are  formed,  as  Christ,  the 
resurrection,  the  final  judgment,  creation,  and  the  like:  or  on  the  part 
of  the  person  believing ;  and  so  the  object  of  faith  is  that  enunciation 
which  faith  apprehends  concerning  the  thing,  as  that  Christ  is  the 
Mediator  and  Saviour,  that  our  bodies  shall  rise  again,  and  that  Christ 
will  come  to  judge  the  world,  that  God  created  the  world,  and  the  like. 
— Thus  far  concerning  the  first  gift,  i.  e.  faith,  and  its  object,  ris. 
Christ/  Vol.  I.  pp.  61^64. 

^^  The  Dissertation  on  the  Death  of  Christ,^  is  an  elaborate 
and  very  judicious  treatise  on  those  fiercely  contested  points  which 
have  been  mooted  on  the  subject  of  which  it  treats.  It  is  dis- 
figured, of  course,  by  some  of  the  peculiarities  to  which  we  have 
referred  as  characterizing  the  ^'  Exposition  ;^  notwithstanding 
which,  it  is  a  very  valuable  production.  In  this  treatise,  Dave- 
nant plainly  shews,  that,  while  profoundly  impressed  with  the 
truth  of  the  main  doctrines  of  the  Calvinistic  school,  he  was  by 
no  means  the  supralapsariaii  which  many  of  the  opposite  pftrty 
have  been  fond  of  representing  him.  He  was  decidedly  a  sub- 
lapsarian.  Some  of  his  tenets,  he  certainly  pushed  further  than 
most  Calvinists  in  the  present  day  would  think  consistent  with 
truth.  That  he  held  the  doctrine  of  *  Universal  Redemption,^ 
is  plain  from  what  he  said  at  the  Council  of  Dort ;  yet,  this  doc- 
trine he  affirms  to  be  inseparable  from  Reprobation  or  Pretention. 


Davenani — his  Life^   Writings^  and  Times.         137 

It  has  been  asserted,  that  his  opinions  on  some  of  the  Calvinistic 
tenets,  relaxed  considerably  in  his  old  age,  under  the  persuasive 
iDfluence  of  the  amiable  and  excellent  Archbishop  Usher.  Of 
this,  however,  the  Translator  endeavours  to  shew  there  is  no  suf- 
ficient proof;  and  we  concur  with  him  in  opinion.  The  mis- 
take appears  to  have  been  founded  on  an  expression  of  Richard 
Baxter^s. 

The  following  observations,  in  the  introduction  to  the  **  Disser- 
tation^, are  very  beautiful,  and  ought  to  be  laid  to  heart  by  the 
oontrovertists  not  only  of  Davenant'^s  age,  but  of  all  ages. 

'  It  is  truly  a  matter  of  grief  and  exceedingly  to  be  deplored,  that, 
^ther  from  toe  misfortune  or  the  disorder  of  our  age,  it  almost  always 
happens,  that  those  mysteries  of  our  religion,  which  were  promul- 
gated for  the  peace  and  comfort  of  mankind,  should  be  turned  into 
materials  for  nothing  but  contention  and  dispute.  Who  could  ever 
have  thought  that  the  death  of  Christ,  which  was  destined  to  secure 
peace  and  destroy  enmity,  as  the  Apostle  speaks,  Ephes.  ii.  14,  17> 
and  Coloss.  i.  20,  21,  could  have  been  so  fruitful  in  the  production  of 
strife  ?  But  this  seems  to  arise  from  the  innate  curiosity  of  men,  who 
are  more  anxious  to  scrutinize  the  secret  councils  of  God,  than  to  em- 
brace the  benefits  openly  offered  to  them.  Hence  it  comes  to  pass 
that,  from  too  much  altercation  on  the  points.  For  whom  did  Christ 
die,  and  for  whom  did  He  not  die  ?  little  is  thought  by  mankind  in- 
dividually, of  applying  to  ourselves  the  death  of  Christ,  by  a  true  and 
lively  faith,  for  the  salvation  of  our  own  souls.  It  is  my  intention,  in 
treating  of  this  subject,  to  endeavour  rather  to  appease  strife,  than  to 
excite  it  anew.  Since,  therefore,  it  is  conceded  by  those  who  extend 
the  death  of  Christ  to  all  mankind  generally,  that,  as  to  its  beneficial 
reception,  it  is  applied  only  to  certain  persons  in  particular ;  and  since 
on  the  other  hand,  those  who  restrain  it  to  the  elect  alone,  confess 
notwithstanding,  that  its  benefits  extend  to  all  that  are  called,  yea,  to 
a]l  men  if  they  would  believe ;  both  sides  seem  to  acknowledge  a  two- 
fold consideration  of  the  death  of  Christ.  For  by  both  of  them  it  is 
r^arded  as  an  universal  cause  of  salvation,  applicable  to  all  mankind 
individually  if  they  should  believe,  and  as  a  special  cause  of  salvation, 
applied  effectually  to  certain  persons  in  particular  who  have  believed.* 

Vol.  II.  pp.  137,  138.' 

We  have  lefl  ourselves  but  little  room  to  speak  of  the  labours 
of  the  Editor  and  Translator.  It  would  be  in  the  highest  degree 
unjust,  however,  to  pass  them  over  without  the  strongest  expres- 
sions of  commendation.  They  are  such  as  to  make  the  volumes 
very  complete.  The  translation  not  only  possesses  the  more  or- 
dinary and  absolutely  indispensable  pre-requisites  of  general  accu- 
racy and  fidelity,  but  the  more  rare  recommendations  of  consider* 
able  care,  propriety,  and  even  elegance.  It  is  not  oflen  that  an 
expression  occurs  which  grates  upon  the  ear.  For  our  own  parts, 
we  highly  applaud  the  practice  (l^^ly  come  into  vogue)  of  trans- 
lating valuable  books  of  theology,  onginally  written  in  Latin,  in- 
to each  man^s  vernacular ;  that  is,  where  the  works  are  really  va- 

VOL.  IX. — M.S.  Q 


138  Claims  of  the  Blacks. 

luable.  Whatever  might  be  said,  in  a  fonner  age,  for  the  practice 
of  conveying  theology  in  bad  Latin,  or  whatever  might  be  said 
for  it  now,  as  a  medium  of  more  general  communication  than  any 
single  modern  language  affords,  we  cannot  see  the  peculiar  bene- 
fit of  puzzling  over  the  horrible  dog-Latin  in  which  so  lar^  a  por- 
tion of  systematic  theology  is  couched  ;  except  when  it  cannot 
be  remedied  ;  and  this  is  rarely  the  case.  We  infinitely  prefer  a 
tolerable  translation.  As  to  the  notion  that  the  practice  of  reading 
such  books  tends  to  keep  up  the  knowledge  of  Latin,  (the  plea  some- 
times made  use  of  in  its  defence,)  it  is,  we  are  persuaded,  the  most 
compendious  method  of  destroying  any  thing  like  classical  taste  or 
a  refined  sensibility  to  the  beauties  and  delicacies  of  the  Latin 
tongue.     Latin  theology  abounds  with  such  words  as  would  make 

'  Quintilian  stare  and  gasp.' 

A  very  valuable  feature  of  the  present  work  is,  that  the  Edi- 
tor has  appended,  (in  the  form  of  notes,)  biographical  sketchesof  the 
Fathers  and  schoolmen  whose  names  so  profusely  adorn  the  pages 
of  Davenant : — names  once  renowned  and  venerated ;  now,  in 
many  instances,  unknown  or  despised.  It  is  but  justice  to  sav, 
that  Mr.  Allport  has  ferreted  out  the  history  of  these  '  bright 
obscure^  with  most  laudable  research.  His  notes,  therefore, 
contain  a  great  deal  of  curious  valuable  information.  The 
sketch  of  the  life  of  Davenant  deserves  the  highest  praise :  it  is 
the  ofily  attempt  that  has  ever  been  made  to  give  any  thing 
like  a  detailed  account  of  the  history  and  writings  of  that  great 
and  good  man.  The  materials  for  this  purpose  were  necessarily 
very  scanty ;  but  what  could  be  met  with,  have  been  procured, 
evidently  by  considerable  labour,  patience,  and  research.  The 
whole  is  skilfully  put  together,  ana  written  with  unaffected  sim- 
plicity and  great  judgement.  A  good  portrait  of  Davenant  em- 
bellishes the  first  volume.  We  have  observed  several  typogra- 
phical errors ;  but  they  are  not  such  as  materially  detract  from 
the  value  of  the  work. 

We  sincerely  hope  that  the  Translator  will  receive  that  en- 
couragement from  the  public,  which  his  labours  merit.  * 

Art.  IV.  I.  Thoughts  on  African  Colonization  :  or  an  impartial  Ex- 
hibition of  the  Doctrines^  Principles^  and  Purposes  of  the  Ameri- 
can Colonization  Society.  Together  with  the  Resolutions,  Ad- 
dresses, and  Remonstrances  of  the  Free  People  of  Colour.  By 
Wm.  Lloyd  Garrison.  2  Parts.  8vo.  pp.  100,  7^.  Bostouj  U.  S. 
1832. 

2.  The  Anti-Slavery  Reporter,  No.  104,  Dec.  31,  1832.  Analysis  ^ 
the  Report  of  a  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons  on  the  Ex- 
tinction of  Slavery,  with  Notes  by  the  Editor.     8vo.    pp.  472. 

i^UR  readers  will  bear  us  witness,  that  we  have  upon  all  oc- 
^-^  casions  evinced  an  anxiety  to  do  justice  to  our  American 
brethren,  and  to  promote,  to  the  utmost  of  our  ability,  a  cordial 


Claims  of  the  Blacks.  139 

good  understanding  between  the  two  countries.  It  is  not  long 
since  we  endeavoured  to  vindicate  the  American  Colonization  So- 
ciety from  imputations  and  suspicions  which  we  still  wish  to  be- 
lieve undeserved  by  its  originators  and  early  promoters.  We  had 
not  then-  seen  Mr.  Garrison^s  pamphlet ;  and  although  we  were 
somewhat  startled  at  the  language  of  the  North  American  Re- 
viewer, which  seemed  to  imply  the  doctrine,  that  no  slave  ought 
to  receive  his  liberty,  except  on  the  condition  of  being  trans- 
ported,— still,  we  were  slow  to  believe  that  in  republican  Ameri- 
ca,— ^the  land  of  freedom,  the  land  of  *  revivals'" — *  doctrines, 
principles,  and  purposes'*  so  atrocious  as  are  here  brought  home 
to  the  ^  Colonizationists,'*  could  be  cherished  by  the  mass  of  the 
public.  Mr.  Garrison  himself  does  not  impeach  the  motives  of 
those  who  planned  the  Society. 

■  '  Some  of  them/  he  says,  *  were  undoubtedly  actuated  by  a  benevo* 
lent  desire  to  promote  the  welfiEirc  of  our  coloured  population,  and 
could  never  have  intended  to  countenance  oppression.  But  the  ques- 
tion is  not,  whether  the  motives  were  good  or  bad.  There  is  a 
wide  difTerence  between  meaning  well  ana  doing  well.  The  slave- 
trade  originated  in  a  compassionate  regard  for  the  benighted  Africans ; 
and  yet,  we  hang  those  who  are  detected  in  this  traffic.  I  am  willing 
to  concede,  that  Robert  Finlej  and  Elias  B.  Caldwell,  were  philan- 
thropic individuals,  and  that  a  large  number  of  their  followers  are  men 
of  piety,  benevolence,  and  moral  worth.  What  then  ?  Is  the  Ameri- 
can Oolonisation  Society  a  beneficial  institution  ?  We  shall  see  here- 
after.' 

Our  present  object  is  not,  however,  to  examine  the  merits  of 
the  prmect,  or  the  motives  of  its  founders.  We  will  take  it  for 
granted,  that  the  institution  is  a  beneficial  one ;  that  the  inten- 
tions of  its  principal  supporters  and  advocates  are  benevolent ; 
that  Mr.  Garrison  is  .what  his  enemies  style  him,  ^  a  fanatic,  a 
madman,  an  incendiary,  a  monster,  and  worthy  of  death.**  It 
looks,  however,  as  if  he  had  truth  and  justice  on  his  side,  when 
we  find  him  thus  reviled.  But  into  this  question  we  do  not  now 
enter.  It  is  to  the  documents  contained  in  his  pamphlet,  the 
language  of  the  American  press,  the  avowed  sentiments  of  the 
supporters  of  the  Colonization  project,  that  we  wish  now  to  di- 
rect the  attention  of  our  readers.  The  disclosure  which  this 
pamphlet  makes,  is  truly  a  startling  and  a  revolting  one.  Should 
It  tend  to  lower  the  Americans  as  a  people  in  the  estimation  of 
English  Christians,  the  fault  does  not  lie  with  us.  We  can  truly 
say,  we  are  grieved  and  pained  at  finding  ourselves  compelled  by 
a  sense  of  duty,  to  expose  the  anti-Christian  spirit  which  seems 
to  pervade  all  the  States,  and  all  classes  of  society  in  the  Union, 
tonf ards  the  coloured  Americans. 

But  we  have  employed  at  the  outset,  a  term  which  would  be 
deeply  resented  by  the  whites.     Strange  to  say,  every  black  man 

q2 


140  Claims  of  the  Blacks. 

born  in  America,  is  called  an  African.  Although  our  American 
brethren  have  so  long  ceased  to  regard  Ensiand  as  their  mother 
country,  notwithstanding  that  they  are,  in  language,  in  religion, 
and  in  many  essential  characteristics,  Englishmen,  yet,  they  per- 
sist in  calling  Africa  the  native  country  of  a  race  bom  on  tneir 
own  soil,  of  parents  bom  in  America  for  many  generationa  up- 
ward ;  and  in  representing  these  coloured  freemen,  their  own 
countrymen,  every  inch  Americans,  as  ^  poor  unfortunate  exiles 
from  their  much  loved  Guinea  or  Congo  !  ^  Our  readers  will  re- 
quire proof  of  this  most  palpable  absurdity.  The  following  are 
given  by  Mr.  Garrison  as  illustrative  specimens. 

'  At  no  very  distant  period^  we  should  see  all  the  free  coloured 
people  in  our  land,  transferred  to  their  own  country,  •••••• 

Let  us  send  them  back  to  their  native  land.  »  •  •  •  •  By  retnmine 

them  to  their  own  ancient  land  of  Africa,  improved  in  knowledge  and 
in  civilization,  we  repay  the  debt  which  has  so  long  been  due  to 
them/     AJrican  Repository. 

'  And  though  we  may  not  live  to  see  the  day,  when  the  sons  of 
Africa  shall  have  returned  to  their  native  sml,  &c.  To  found  in 
Africa  an  empire  of  christians  and  republicans;  to  reconduct  the  Uackt 
to  their  native  land.'  &c.     Idem, 

'  Who  would  not  rejoice  to  see  our  country  liberated  from  her  Uack 
population  ?  Who  would  not  participate  in  any  efforts  to  restore 
those  children  of  misfortune  to  their  native  shores?  The  coloured 
population  of  this  country  can  never  rise  to  respectability  here :  in 
their  native  soil  they  can ! 

'  The  only  remedy  afforded,  to  colonize  them  in  their  mother  country. 
••*****  They  would  go  to  that  home  from  which  they  have 
long  been  absent.  *  *  *  Shall  we  .  .  .  retain  and  foster  the  alien 
enemies*     Idem. 

'  Be  all  these  benefits  enjoyed  by  the  African  race  under  the  shade 
of  their  native  palms—'     Idem. 

'  We  have  a  numerous  people  who,  though  they  are  among  U8»  art 
not  of  us.*     Second  An.  Report  of  N.  York  Col,  Soc, 

'  Among  us  is  a  gro^ving  population  of  strangers  •  •  *  •  It  will 
furnish  the  means  of  wanting  to  every  AJrican  exile  among  us,  a  happy 
home  in  the  land  of  his  fathers.'     Rev.  Baxter  Dickinson's  Sermon, 

'  Africa  is  indeed  inviting  her  long  exiled  children  to  return  to  her 
bosom.'     Circular  of  Rev.  Mr.  Gurley, 

This  is  something  less  innocent  than  mere  romance.  The 
greater  part  of  the  coloured  population  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  are  the  descendants  of  those  who  were  forcibly  torn 
from  Africa  two  centuries  ago.  Their  fathers,  it  is  remarked, 
'assisted  in  breaking  the  yoke  of  British  oppression,  and  in 
'  achieving  that  liberty  which  **  Americans  *  prize  above  all  price ; 
'  and  they  cherish  the  strongest  attachment  to  the  land  of  their 
'  birth.'*  Nor  is  it  many  years  since  this  patriotic  attachment  was 
10  substantially  evinced,  as  to  excite  the  warm  approbation  of  no 


Cktifiu  of  the  Blacks.  141 

Im8  m  person  than  General  Jackson,  the  present  President.  Mr. 
Garrison  gives  us  the  following  translation  of  a  proclamation  in 
the  French  language,  issued  during  the  last  war. 

'  Prodamation  to  the  free  people  of  colour. 

'  Soldiers ! — ^When  on  the  banks  of  the  Mobile^  I  called  you  to 
take  np  arms^  inviting  you  to  partake  the  perils  and  glory  of  your 
white  fellow  citizens^  /  expected  much  from  you  ;  for  I  was  not  ignor- 
ant that  you  possessed  qualities  most  formidable  to  an  invading  enemy. 
I  knew  with  what  fortitude  you  could  endure  hunger  and  thirst,  and 
all  the  fiitigues  of  a  campaign.  /  knew  well  how  you  loved  your  NA- 
TIVE country,  and  that  you  had^  as  well  as  ourselves,  to  defeud  what 
man  hoLda  most  dear — his  parents^  relations,  wife^  children,  and  pro- 
perty. You  have  done  more  than  I  expected.  In  addition  to  the  pre- 
vious qualities  I  before  knew  you  to  possess,  I  found,  moreover,  among 
jFou,  a  noble  enthusiasm  which  leads  to  the  performance  of  great 
things. 

'Soldiers! — The  President  of  the  United  States  shall  hear  how 
praiseworthy  was  your  conduct  in  the  hour  of  danger ;  and  the  Repre- 
sentative of  the  American  people  will,  I  doubt  not,  give  you  the  praise 
jonr  exploits  entitle  you  to.  Your  General  anticipates  them  in  ap^ 
plauding  your  noble  ardour. 

*  The  enemy  approaches ;  his  vessels  cover  our  lakes ;  our  brave 
citisens  are  united,  and  all  contention  has  ceased  among  them.  Their 
only  dispute  is,  who  shall  win  the  prize  of  valour ;  or  who,  the  most 
glory,  its  noblest  reward. 

'  By  order.  Thomas  Butler,  Aid-de-Camp.' 

pp.  6,  7. 

A  respectable  coloured  gentleman  of  the  city  of  New  York,  re- 
ferring to  this  famous  proclamation,  makes  the  following  brief 
comment. 

'  When  we  could  be  of  any  use  to  the  army,  we  possessed  all  the 
cardinal  virtues ;  but  now  that  time  has  passed,  we  forsooth  are  the 
most  miserable,  worthless  beings  the  Lord  in  his  wise  judgement  ever 
aent  to  curse  the  rulers  of  this  troublesome  world !  I  feel  an  anathema 
rising  from  my  heart,  but  I  have  suppressed  it.' 

The  second  part  of  Mr.  Garrison'*s  pamphlet  is  entirely  occupied 
with  numerous  documents  exhibiting  the  sentiments  of  the  people 
of  colour  themselves;  documents  which,  while  reflecting  the 
highest  credit  upon  the  good  sense,  ability,  and  virtuous  feeling 
of  this  basely  calumniated  portion  of  the  American  community, 
place  the  advocates  of  the  Colonization  Society  in  no  very  ad- 
vantageous light.  We  must  make  room  for  a  few  extracts  from 
these  interesting  papers ;  after  perusing  which,  few  of  our  readers 
will  be  at  a  loss  to  decide  which  party  has  the  best  of  the  argu- 
ment. 

'  Philadelphia.  Jan.  1817*  At  a  numerous  meeting  of  the  people  of 
eohmr  convened  at  Bethel  Church,  to  take  into  consideration  the  pro« 


142  CUUmM  of  the  Blacks. 

priety  of  remonstrating  against  the  contemplated  measoro  tliat  is  to 
exile  us  from  the  land  of  our  nativity,  &c. 

'  Whereas  our  ancestors  (not  of  choice)  were  the  first  successful  cttl« 
tivators  of  the  ^vilds  of  America,  we  their  descendants  feel  ourselves 
entitled  to  participate  in  the  blessings  of  her  luxuriant  soil,  which 
their  blood  and  sweat  manured ;  and  that  any  measure  or  system  of 
measures,  having  a  tendency  to  banish  us  from  her  bosom^  would  not 
only  be  cruel,  but  in  direct  violation  of  those  principles  which  have 
been  the  boast  of  this  republic. 

'  Resolved,  That  we  view  with  deep  abhorrence  the  unmerited 
stigma  attempted  to  be  cast  upon  the  reputation  of  the  free  people  of 
colour,  by  the  promoters  of  this  measure ;  **  that  they  are  a  dangerous 
and  useless  part  of  the  community  ";  when,  in  the  state  of  disfranchise- 
ment in  which  they  live,  in  the  hour  of  danger  they  ceased  to  remem- 
ber their  wrongs,  and  rallied  around  the  standard  of  their  country. 

'  Resolved,  That  we  never  will  separate  ourselves,  voluntarily,  from 
the  slave  population  in  this  country ;  they  are  our  brethren  by  the  ties' 
of  consanguinity,  of  suffering,  and  of  wrong ;  and  we  feel  that  there  is 
more  virtue  in  suffering  privations  with  them,  than  fiaincied  advantages 
for  a  season. 

'  Resolved,  That  without  arts,  without  science,  without  a  proper 
knowledge  of  government,  to  cast  into  the  savage  wilds  of  Africa,  the 
free  people  of  colour,  seems  to  us,  the  circuitous  route  by  which  they 
must  return  to  perpetual  bondage. 

'  Resolved,  That  having  the  strongest  confidence  in  the  justice  of 
God  and  the  philanthropy  of  the  free  States,  we  cheerfully  submit  our 
destinies  to  the  guidance  of  Him^  who  suffers  not  a  sparrow  to  fall 
without  his  special  providence.'     p.  9. 

'  Hartford,  Connecticut.  July  1831.  At  a  large  and  respectable 
meeting  of  the  coloured  inhabitants  of  the  city  of  Hartford  and  its 
vicinity,  convened  at  the  vestry  room  of  the  African  Church : 

'  Resolved,  That  it  is  the  opinion  of  this  meeting,  that  the  Ameri- 
can Colonization  Society  is  actuated  by  the  same  motives  which  in- 
fluenced the  mind  of  Pharaoh,  when  he  ordered  the  male  children  of 
the  Israelites  to  be  destroyed. 

'  Resolved,  That  it  is  the  belief  of  this  meeting,  that  the  Society  is 
the  greatest  foe  to  the  free  coloured  and  slave  population,  with  whom 
liberty  and  equality  have  to  contend. 

'  Resolved,  That  we  look  upon  the  man  of  colour  that  would  be  in- 
fluenced by  the  Society,  to  emigrate  to  Liberia,  as  an  enemy  to  the 
cause,  and  a  traitor  to  his  brethren. 

'  Resolved,  That  it  is  the  opinhm  of  this  meeting,  that  many  of 
those  who  are  engaged  in  this  unjust  scheme,  would  be  willing,  if  it 
were  in  their  power,  to  place  us  before  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and 
drive  us  out  of  existence — so  that  they  may  get  rid  of  that  dark  cloud, 
as  we  are  termed^  which  hangs  over  these  United  States. 

^Resolved,  That  in  our  opinion  we  have  committed  no  crime  worthy 
of  banishment,  and  that  we  will  resist  all  the  attempts  of  the  Coloniz- 
ation Society,  to  banish  us  from  this  our  native  land. 

'  Resolved,  That  we  consider  ourselves  the  legitimate  sons  of  these 
United  States^  firom  whence  we  will  never  consent  to  be  transported. 


Claims  of  the  Blacks.  143 

*  Reaolyedy  That  we  will  resist  even  unto  death  all  the  attempts  of 
this  Society  to  transport  us  to  the  pestilential  shores  of  Liberia. 

'  Resolved^  That  we  will  not  countenance  the  doctrine  of  any  pie- 
tended  minister  of  the  gospel  who  is  in  league  with  those  conspirators 
sgainst  our  rights.'    pp.  28,  29. 

'  New  Haven.  Aug.  8.  1831 .  At  a  meeting  of  the  Peace  and  Bene- 
volent Society  of  Afric-Americans,  &c. 

'  Resolved,  That  we  consider  those  Christians  and  philanthropists 
who  are  boasting  of  their  liberty  and  equality,  saying  that  all  men  are 
horn  free  and  equals  and  yet  are  endeavouring  to  remove  us  from  our 
native  land,  to  be  inhuman  in  their  proceedings,  defective  in  their  prin- 
ciples, and  unworthy  of  our  confidence. 

*  Rrcsolved,  That  we  consider  those  colonizationists  and  ministers  of 
the  gospel  who  are  advocating  our  transportation  to  an  unknown  clime, 
because  our  skin  is  a  little  darker  than  theirs,  (notwithstanding  God 
has  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men,  and  has  no  respect  of  per- 
sons,) as  violaters  of  the  commandments  of  God,  and  the  laws  of  the 
Bible,  and  as  trying  to  blind  our  eyes  by  their  blind  movements — ^their 
mouths  being  smooth  as  oil,  and  their  words  sharper  than  any  two- 
edged  sword. 

'  Resolved,  That  while  we  have  no  doubt  of  the  sinister  motives  of 
the  great  body  of  colonizationists,  we  believe  some  of  them  are  our 
friends  and  well-wishers,  who  have  not  looked  deeply  into  the  subject ; 
hut  when  they  make  a  careful  examination,  we  think  they  will  find 
themselves  in  error. 

'  Resolved,  That  it  is  our  earnest  desire  that  Africa  may  speedily 
become  civiliaed,  and  receive  religious  instruction ;  but  not  by  the  ab- 
surd and  invidious  plan  of  the  Colonization  Society — namelv,  to  send 
a  nation  of  ignorant  men,  to  teach  a  nation  of  ignorant  men.  We  think 
it  most  wise  for  them  to  send  missionaries. 

'  Resolved,  That  we  will  resist  all  attempts  made  for  our  removal 
to  the  torrid  shores  of  Africa,  and  will  sooner  suffer  every  drop  of 
blood  to  be  taken  from  our  veins,  than  submit  to  such  unrighteous 
treatment. 

'  Resolved,  That  we  know  of  no  other  place  that  we  can  call  our 
true  and  appropriate  home,  excepting  these  United  States,  into  which 
our  fathers  were  brought,  who  enriched  the  country  by  their  toils,  and 
fought,  bled,  and  died  in  its  defence,  and  left  us  in  its  possession — and 
here  we  will  live  and  die.'    pp.  30,  31. 

*  Pittsburgh.  Sep.  1831.  At  a  large  and  respectable  meeting  of  the 
coloured  citizens  of  Pittsburgh,  convened  at  the  African-Methoclist 
Episcopal  Church. 

'  Resolved,  That  we  hold  these  truths  to  be  self-evident ;  that  all 
men  are  created  equal,  and  endowed  by  their  Creator  with  certain  in- 
alienable rights  ;  that  among  these,  are  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness. — Liberty  and  Equality  now.  Liberty  and  Equality  for  ever. 

'  Resolved,  That  it  is  the  decided  opinion  of  this  meeting,  that 
African  colonization  is  a  scheme  to  drain  the  better  informed  part  of 
the  coloured  people  out  of  these  United  States,  so  that  the  chain  of 
slavery  may  be  riveted  more  tightly ;  but  we  are  determined  not  to  be 


144  ClaiiM  of  the  Blacks. 

cheated  out  of  our  rights  by  the  colooizatioii  men,  or  any  other  set  of 
intriguers.  We  believe  there  is  no  philanthropy  in  the  colonisation 
plan  towards  the  people  of  colour ;  but  that  it  is  got  up  to  delude  us 
away  from  our  country  and  home,  to  the  burning  shores  of  Africa. 

'  Kesolved,  That  we,  the  coloured  people  of  Pittsburgh,  and  dtisens 
of  these  United  States  view  the  country  in  which  we  live,  as  our  only 
true  and  proper  home.  We  are  just  as  much  natives  here,  as  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Colonization  Society.  Here  we  were  bom — here  bred — 
here  are  our  earliest  and  most  pleasant  associations — ^here  is  all  that 
binds  man  to  earth,  and  makes  life  valuable.  And  we  do  consider 
every  coloured  man,  who  allows  himself  to  be  colonized  in  AMca,  or 
elsewhere,  a  traitor  to  our  cause. 

'  Resolved,  That  we  are  freemen,  that  we  are  brethren,  that  we  are 
countrymen  and  fellow-citizens,  and  as  fully  entitled  to  the  free  exer- 
cise of  the  elective  franchise  as  any  men  who  breathe ;  and  that  we 
demand  an  equal  share  of  protection  from  our  federal  government  with 
any  class  of  citizens  in  the  community.  We  now  inform  the  Colo- 
nization Society,  that  should  our  reason  forsake  us,  then  we  may  desire 
to  remove.    We  will  apprise  them  of  this  change  in  due  season. 

'  Resolved,  that  we,  as  the  citizens  of  these  United  States,  and  for 
the  support  of  these  resolutions,  with  a  firm  reliance  on  the  protection 
of  Divine  Providence,  do  mutually  pledge  to  each  other,  our  lives,  our 
fortunes,  and  our  sacred  honour,  not  to  support  a  colony  in  Africa, 
nor  in  Upper  Canada,  nor  yet  emigrate  to  Havti.  Here  we  were 
bom — here  will  we  live,  by  the  help  of  the  Almighty — and  here  we 
will  die  and  let  our  bones  lie  with  our  fathers.'     pp.  34,  5. 

From  an  address  to  the  coloured  citizens  of  Brooklyn,  New  York, 
issued  in  pursuance  of  a  meeting  of  the  coloured  inhabitants  of 
that  township,  June  3, 1831,  we  extract  the  following  forcible  and 
pathetic  remonstrance. 

'  Brethren,  it  is  time  for  us  to  awake  to  our  interests ;  for  the  Ccdoni- 
zation  Society  is  straining  every  nerve  for  the  accomplishment  of  its 
objects.  By  their  last  publications  we  see  that  they  have  invoked  all 
Christian  assemblies  and  churches  throughout  the  Union,  to  exert  their 
influence,  by  raising  subscriptions  to  send  us  (the  strangers  within 
their  gates,  as  they  call  us)  to  the  coast  of  Africa.  They  have  got  the 
consent  of  eleven  States,  who  have  instructed  their  senators  to  do 
something  in  the  next  Congress  for  our  removal.  Maryland  calls  im- 
peratively on  the  general  government  to  send  us  away,  or  else  they  will 
colonize  their  own  free  blacks.  They  have,  by  their  influence,  stopped 
the  emancipation  of  slaves  in  a  measure,  except  for  colonixaticm 
purposes. 

'  We  owe  a  tribute  of  respect  to  the  State  of  New  York,  for  her  not 
having  entered  into  the  confederacy.  Though  she  is  the  last  in  pro- 
claiming general  emancipation  to  the  slave,  yet  we  find  her  alow  in 
adopting  any  such  unchristian  measures.  We  may  well  say,  she  it 
deliberate  in  her  councils,  and  determinate  in  her  resolutions. 

'  Finally,  Brethren,  we  are  not  strangers ;  neither  do  we  oome 
under  the  alien  law.  Our  constitution  does  not  call  upon  us  to  become 
neutralized;  we  are  already  American  citizens ;  our  fJEithers  were  among 


Claims  of  the  Blacks.  145 

lihe  first  that  peopled  this  country ;  their  sweat  and  their  tears  have 
been  the  means,  m  a  measure,  of  raising  our  country  to  its  present 
standing.  Many  of  them  fcmght^  and  bled,  and  died  for  the  gaining  of 
her  liberties ;  and  shall  we  forsake  their  tombs,  and  flee  to  an  unknown 
land  ?  No !  let  us  remain  over  them  and  weep,  until  the  day  arrives 
when  Ethiopia  shall  stretch  forth  her  hands  to  Gud.  We  were  bom 
and  nurtured  in  this  Christian  land ;  and  are  surrounded  by  Christians, 
whose  sacred  creed  is,  to  do  unto  all  men  as  ye  would  they  should  do 
unto  you — to  love  our  neighbours  as  ourselves ;  and  which  expressly 
declares,  if  we  have  respect  to  persons,  we  commit  sin.  Let  us. 
Brethren,  invoke  the  Christian's  God  in  our  behalf,  to  do  awav  the 
prejudices  of  our  brethren,  that  they  may  adopt  the  solemn  truths  of 
the  gospel,  and  acknowledge  that  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons — 
that  he  lias  made  of  one  blood  all  the  nations  tliat  dwell  on  the  face  of 
the  earth — that  they  may  no  longer  bring  their  reasonings  in  contact 
with  the  omniscience  of  Deity ;  and  insinuate  to  the  public,  that  our 
intellect  and  faculties  are  measurably  inferior  to  those  of  our  fairer 
brethren.  Because  adversity  has  thrown  a  veil  over  us,  and  we, 
whom  God  has  created  to  worship,  admire  and  adore  his  divine 
attributes,  shall  we  be  held  in  a  state  of  wretchedness  and  degradation, 
with  monkeys,  baboons,  slaves,  and  cattle,  because  we  possess  a  darker 
hue? 

'  Wc  feel  it  our  duty  ever  to  remain  true  to  the  constitution  of  our 
coantry,  and  to  protect  it,  as  we  have  always  done,  from  foreign 
asgresMons.  Although  more  than  three  hundred  thousand  of  us  are 
▼irtually  deprived  of  the  rights  and  immunities  of  citizens,  and  more 
than  two  millions  held  in  abject  slavery,  yet  we  know  that  God  is  just 
and  ever  true  to  his  purpose.  Before  him  the  whole  world  stands  in 
awe,  and  at  his  command  nations  must  obey.  He  who  has  lately 
pleaded  the  Indian's  cause  in  our  land,  and  who  has  brought  about 
many  signal  events,  to  the  astonishment  of  our  generation,  we  believe 
is  in  the  whirlwind,  and  will  soon  bring  about  the  time  when  the  sable 
sons  of  America  will  join  with  their  fairer  brethren,  and  re-echo  liberty 
and  equal  rights  in  all  parts  of  Columbia's  soil. 

*  Wc  pray  the  Lord  to  hasten  the  day,  when  prejudice,  inferiority, 
degradation,  and  oppression  shall  be  done  awav,  and  the  kingdoms  of 
this  world  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  God  and  his  Christ.' 

Are  these  the  men  whom  the  proud  republicans  of  America 
are  anxious  to  expatriate  ?  to  send  to  the  pestilential  shores  of  a 
barbarous  and  heathen  land,  on  the  lying  pretext  that  Africa  is 
their  native  land  P  When  the  Spaniards  expelled  the  jMoors,  a 
diflTerence  of  religion  supplied  a  powerful  reason,  in  those  days  of 
intolerance ;  while  something  like  retribution  may  be  traced  in  the 
calamities  vhich  befel  the  cruel  persecutors  of  the  Jews  of  the 
peninsula;  and  those  who  refused  to  submit  to  baptism,  found  an 
asylum  on  the  opposite  coast,  among  their  brethren  in  Morocco. 
But  the  coloured  Americans  are  of  the  same  religion  as  the 
whites,  and  have  deserved  well  at  their  hands.  Their  only  crime 
lies  in  the  darker  hue  of  their  skin.     ^  God  has  put  a  mark  \  it  is 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  R 


1 46  Claims  of  the  Blacks. 

said,  ^  upon  the  black  man.     The  God  of  nature  intended  they 

*  should  be  a  dUt'mct^freey  and  independent  community.'*  {New- 
Haven  Palladium.)  If  so,  what  shall  be  said  of  those  who 
frustrate  the  Divine  intention  by  holding  them  in  bondage  ?  But 
what  is  this  mark  of  distinction  ?  Is  it  meant  that  a  black  akin 
is  the  distinctive  mark  of  an  African  ?  that  Afnca  is  the  only 
region  where  people  are  bom  black  ?  The  consummate  ignorance 
betrayed  in  such  a  notion,  is  surprising.  The  Arab,  the  Hindoo, 
the  Asiatic  Portuguese,  the  Indian  Jew,  has  a  skin  as  dark  as 
any  Mandingo  or  Angola  negro ;  and  among  the  black  races,  the 
physical  varieties  are  as  numerous  and  as  broadly  distinguished  as 
among  the  whites.  While  the  white  races  were  yet  barbarous,  the 
black  races  were  advancing  in  civilization ;  and  from  India  and 
Africa,  the  parent  coimtries  of  Gentile  science,  emanated  the  light 
which  irradiated  the  ancient  world.  *  The  Blacks  %  remarks  an 
enlightened  American  writer,  ^  had  a  long  and  glorious  day ;  and 
'  afler  what  they  have  been  and  done,  it  argues  not  so  much  a 

*  mistaken   theory,   as   sheer  ignorance  of  the  most  notorious 

*  historical  facts,  to  pretend  that  they  are  naturally  inferior  to  the 

*  whites."' 

But  the  hypocrisy  and  wickedness  of  this  shallow  plea  become 
still  more  manifest,  when  it  is  considered,  how  utterly  this  dis- 
tinctive mark  of  complexion  is  disregarded  by  the  slave-bolder. 
Does  the  lawfulness  of  holding  men  in  bondage  depend  upon  their 
colour  or  their  race  ?  What  shall  be  said,  then,  of  retaining  in 
slavery,  numbers  whose  skin  is  not  many  shades  darker  than  that 
of  their  masters ;  betraying  a  mixture  of  white  blood  which  well 
nigh  obliterates  the  pretended  distinctive  mark,  and  gives  the  lie 
to  the  blasphemy.  If  Africa  were  the  native  country  of  the 
American  black,  we  might  still  ask,  which  is  the  native  country 
of  the  mulatto  ?  Surely,  as  Mr.  Garrison  argues,  ^  it  would  be  as 
^  unnatural  to  send  white  blood  to  Africa,  as  to  keep  black  blood 

*  in  America. 

'  Now,  most  unfortunately  for  colonizationists,  the  spirit  of  amalga- 
mation has  been  so  active  for  a  long  series  of  ycars^ — especially  in  the 
slave  States, — that  there  are  comparatively  few,  besides  those  who  are 
annually  stnuggled  info  the  South  from  Africa,  whose  blood  is  not 
tainted  with  a  foreign  ingredient.  Here,  then  is  a  difficulty !  What 
shall  be  done  ?  All  black  blood  must  be  sent  to  Africa ;  but  how  to 
collect  it  is  the  question.  What  shall  be  done  ?  Why,  we  must  re- 
sort to  phlehots^ny. 

*  '*  Therefore  prepare  thee  to  cut  off  the  flesh ; 
nor  cut  thou  less  nor  more. 


But  just  a  pound  of  flesh.*' ' 

But,  in  employing  the  terms,  white  blood  and  black  blood,  we 
^urs  reminded  of  the  emphatic  contradiction  which  the  woi^  of 


Claims  of  the  Blacks.  14? 

Grod  supplies  to  the  notion,  that  there  is  any  essential  difference 
between  tnem.  The  Creator  of  all  has  ^'  made  of  one  blood  all 
nations  of  men  to  dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth  ^;  and  he  who 
practically  denies  this,  ^^  maketh  God  a  liar  ^\  How  admirably 
does  the  proud  spirit  which  leads  the  white  American  to  revolt  at 
worsbippinff  his  Maker  in  the  same  church  with  his  sable  fellow 
Christian,  harmonize  with  the  apostolic  exhortation,  ^^  Let  the 
same  mind  be  in  you  that  was  in  Christ  Jesus,^^  who  ^^  is  not 
ashamed  to  call  us^ — men  of  every  hue,  partakers  of  the  same  flesh 
and  Uood — *^  his  brethren  ^!  Had  Our  Lord  himself  appeared  to 
the  American  nation  '^  in  the  form  of  a  servant  ^,  with  a  skin  of 
darker  hue  than  their  own,  they  would  have  exclaimed  with  one 
voice,  **  Crucify  him.**' 

No  one  who  is  aware  of  the  intense,  the  almost  savage  an- 
tipathy which  inspires  an  American  towards  the  coloured  races, 
will  accuse  us  of  exaggeration.  In  this  respect,  our  own  West 
Indians,  with  all  their  faults,  discover  a  less  unconquerable  pre- 
judice. It  seems  inherited  less,  indeed,  from  the  European, 
than  from  the  aboriginal  Indian,  between  whom  and  the  negro 
there  exists  a  peculiar  mutual  repugnance,  as  there  is  also  the 
most  extreme  physical  contrariety.  The  very  sight  of  a  gentle- 
man of  colour,  whatever  his  wealth  and  intelligence,  at  the  same 
dinner-table,  in  the  same  box  of  a  theatre,  still  more  at  the  same 
altar,  would,  even  in  this  country,  throw  an  American  into  the 
agitation  of  suppressed  rage.  The  well  authenticated  anecdotes 
we  have  heard,  illustrative  of  this  fact,  would  be  simply  amusing, 
were  it  not  for  the  serious  consequences  of  this  absurd  prejudice. 
When  we  find  such  a  spirit  as  this  in  Christians,  we  may  well 
cease  to  wonder  at  the  haughty  prejudice  of  the  ancient  Jews 
towards  the  Gentiles,  which  led  them  to  resent  Our  Saviour^s 
eating  with  ^^  publicans  and  sinners,^  and  to  exclaim  respecting 
the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  *'  Away  with  this  fellow :  he  is  not 
fit  to  live.*"  The  conduct  of  the  Brahmins  towards  the  inferior 
castes,  finds  its  counterpart,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  among  the 
philosophic  republicans  of  America.  In  proof  of  this,  we  shall 
transcribe  a  few  sentences  from  the  publications  of  the  advocates 
of  ColonLsation. 

'  Among  the  twelve  millions  who  make  up  our  census,  two  millions 
are  Africans — separated  frum  the  possessors  of  the  soil  by  births  by  the 
brand  of  indelible  ignominy,  by  prejudices,  mutual^  deep^  incurable,  by 
an  irreconciUable  diversity  of  interests.  They  are  aliens  and  outcasts ; 
— they  are^  as  a  body,  degraded  beneath  the  influence  of  neariy  all  the 
motives  which  prompt  other  men  to  enterprise,  and  almost  below  the 
sphere  of  virtuous  affections.  Whatever  may  be  attempted  for  the 
general  improvement  of  societv>  their  wants  are  untouched.  What- 
ever may  be  effected  for  elevatmg  the  mass  of  the  nation  in  the  scale 
of  happiness^  or  of  intellectual  and  moral  character^  their  degradation 

k2 


148  Claims  of  the  Blacks. 

is  the  satne, — dark,  and  deep,  and  hopeless.  BenevolsHce  seems  io 
overlook  them,  or  struggles  for  their  benefit  in  rain.  Pairudism  forgets 
them,  or  remembers  them  only  with  shame  for  what  has  been,  and 
fvith  dire  forebodings  of  what  is  yet  io  come  ...  In  every  part  of  the 
United  States,  there  is  a  broad  and  impassable  line  of  demarcation 
between  every  man  who  has  one  drop  of  African  blood  in  his  veins,  and 
every  other  class  in  the  community.  The  habits,  the  feelings,  all  the 
prejudices  of  society — prejudices  which  neither  refinement,  nor  argu- 
ment, nor  education^  nor  religion  itself  can  subdue — mark  the  people 
of  colour,  whether  bond  or  free,  as  the  subjects  of  a  degradation  in« 
evitable  and  incurable,  ^he  African  in  this  country  belongs  by  birth 
to  the  very  lowest  station  in  society ;  and  from  that  station  ke  can  never 
rise,  be  his  talents,  his  enterprise,  his  virtues  what  they  may. .  .  •  They 
constitute  a  class  by  themselves — a  class  out  of  which  no  individual 
can  be  elevated,  and  below  which  none  can  be  depressed.*  African  Re- 
pository.    Vol.  IV.  pp.  117—119. 

'  Here,  invincible  prejudices  exclude  them  from  the  enjoyment  of 
the  society  of  the  whites,  and  deny  them  all  the  advantages  of  free 
men.  The  bar,  the  pulpit,  and  our  legislative  halls  are  shut  to  them 
by  the  irresistible  force  of  public  sentiment.  No  talents  however 
great,  no  piety  however  pure  and  devoted,  no  patriotism  however 
ardent,  can  secure  their  admission.  They  constantly  hear  the  accents, 
and  behold  the  triumph  of  a  liberty  which  here  they  can  never  enjoy.' 

76.  Vol.  VI.  p.  17. 

'  Is  it  not  wise  then,  for  the  free  people  of  colour  and  their  friends 
to  admit,  what  caimot  reasonably  be  doubted,  that  the  people  of  cdour 
must,  in  this  country,  remain  for  ages,  probably  for  ever,  a  separate 
and  inferior  caste,  weighed  down  by  causes  powerful,  universal,  in- 
evitable, '  which  neither  legislation  nor  Christianity  can  remove  ?'  *  Let 
the  free  black  in  this  country  toil  from  youth  to  ace  in  the  honourable 
pursuit  of  wisdom — let  him  store  his  mind  with  the  most  valuable  re- 
searches of  science  and  literature — and  let  him  add  to  a  highly  gifted 
and  cultivated  intellect,  a  piety  pure,  undefilcd,  and  "  unspotted  from 
the  world  " — 1/  is  oil  nothing :  he  would  not  be  received  into  the  very 
lowest  walks  of  society.  If  we  were  constrained  to  admire  so  un- 
common a  being,  our  admiration  would  mingle  with  disgust,  because, 
in  the  physical  organization  of  his  frame,  we  meet  an  insurmountable 
barrier  even  to  an  approach  to  social  intercourse ;  and  in  the  Egyptian 
colour  which  nature  has  stamped  upon  his  features,  a  principle  of  re- 
pulsion so  strong  as  to  forbid  the  idea  of  a  communion  either  of  interest 
or  of  feeling,  as  utterly  abhorrent.  Whether  these  feelings  are  founded 
in  reason  or  not,  we  will  not  now  inquire — perhaps,  they  are  not.  But 
education,  and  habit,  and  prejudice  have  so  firmly  riveted  them  upon 
U8»  that  they  have  become  as  strong  as  nature  itself.  And  to  expect 
their  removal,  or  even  their  slightest  rnodiji cation,  would  be  as  idle  and 
preposterous  as  to  expect  that  we  could  reach  forth  our  hands,  and  re- 
move the  mountains  from  tlieir  foundations  into  the  valleys  which  are 
beneath  them/     lb.  Vol.  VII.  pp.  195,  231. 

*  The  Soodra  is  not  further  separated  frotn  the  Brahmin,  in  regard 
to  all  his  privileges,  civil,  intellectual,  and  moral,  than  the  n^ro  is 
from  the  white  man,  by  the  prejudices  which  result  from  the  difference 


Claims  of  the  Blacks,  149 

made  between  them  by  the  Gkxl  of  nature.'  Seventh  Annual  Report 
of  Col.  Soc. 

^  Christianity  cannot  do  for  them  here«  what  it  will  do  for  them  in 
Africa.  This  is  not  the  Jault  of  the  coloured  man,  nor  of  the  white 
nuLH,  nor  of  Christianity ;  but  an  ordination  of  Providence,  and  no 
more  to  be  changed  than  a  law  of  nature.'     Fifteenth  An,  Rep, 

'  The  coloured  people  are  subject  to  legal  disabilities,  more  or  less 
galling  and  severe,  in  almost  every  State  of  the  Union.  Who  has  not 
deeply  regretted  their  late  harsh  expulsion  from  the  State  of  Ohio,  and 
their  being  forced  to  abandon  the  conntry  of  their  birth,  which  had 
profited  by  their  labours,  and  to  take  refuge  in  a  foreign  land  ?  Severe 
regulations  have  been  recently  passed  in  Louisiana,  to  prevent  the  in- 
troduction of  free  people  of  colour  into  the  State.  Wherever  they  ap- 
pear, they  are  to  be  banished  in  60  days.  The  strong  opposition  to  a 
negro  college  in  New  Haven,  speaks  in  a  language  not  to  be  mistaken, 
the  jealousy  with  which  they  are  regarded.  And  there  is  no  reason  to 
expect  that  the  lapse  of  centuries  will  make  any  change  in  this  respect.' 

Matthew  Carey* s  *'  Reflections". 

*  With  us.  Colour  is  the  bar.  Nature  has  raised  up  barriers  between 
the  races,  which  no  man  with  a  proper  sense  of  the  dignity  of  his 
species,  desires  to  see  surmounted,'  Speeches  at  the  formation  of  a  Col. 
&OC.  in  New  York,    pp.  135 — 140. 

And  this  in  America !  These  are  the  fruits  of  reason  and 
philosophy,  in  a  republic  founded  on  the  *'  rights  of  man  \  and 
glorying  in  the  political  equality  of  its  citizens,  while  every  sixth 
individual  is  a  soodra,  the  victim  of  a  prejudice  as  senseless,  of 
iiyustice  as  enormous,  as  ever  disgraced  a  heathen  nation.  Talk 
of  freedom,  of  toleration,  of  justice,  in  a  country  where  a  free 
citizen  may  be  expelled  from  his  native  soil,  because  of  his  com- 
plexion !  Why  Russia  and  its  autocrat  appear  to  advantage  in 
comparison  with  this  ruthless,  irresponsible  despotism.  And  then, 
think  of  the  blasphemy  of  making  the  Deity  an  accomplice  in  this 
cruelty  and  injustice,  by  resolving  it  into  ^  an  ordination  of  Pro- 

*  vidence  ,^  a  *  law  of  the  God  of  nature  \  which  defies  the  utmost 
power  of  Christianity,  which  religion  cannot,  that  is,  shall  not 
subdue !  How  must  this  language  of  obstinate  determination  and 
defiance  sound  in  the  ears  of  Heaven  !  How  righteously  will  the 
refosal  to  inquire  whether  these  feelings  be  founded  in  reason  or 
not,  whether  they  be  consonant  with  justice  and  religion  or  not, 
be  visited  with  a  rebuke  of  fearful  indignation  !  When  we  read 
such  expressions,  we  are  forcibly  reminded  of  the  emphatic  words 
of  President  Jefferson  in  reference  to  slavery  :  *  /  tremble  for  my 

*  country^  when  I  reflect  that  God  is  just^  and  that  his  justice 

*  cannot  sl^epfor  ever  J" 

But  what  shall  we  say  to  such  language  from  ministers  of  the 
Grospel  ?  Let  us  for  one  moment  imagine  St.  Paul  revisiting  the 
earth,  and  passing  from  the  extreme  western  limit  of  his  former 
labours  to  the  shores  of  the  new  world,  colonised  by  those  who 


150  Claitns  of  the  Blaclu. 

forsook  their  native  land,  that  they  might  phtnt  their  churches 
beyond  the  reach  of  intolerance,  in  the  weatem  "wildemeas.  With 
what  language  would  he  address  their  deaoendants,  on  finding 
them  leagued  in  a  general  conspiracy  against  their  fellow  Christians 
of  a  darker  skin  !  He  who  once  pleaded  for  Onesirous,  the  run- 
away slave,  as  his  spiritual  son,  entreating  hit  master  to  receive 
him,  not  as  a  slave  or  servant,  but  ^*  above  a  servant,  a  brother 
beloved^; — who  taught  in  the  churches,  that  the  slave,  on  being 
*^  called  in  the  Lord,*"  became  ^^  the  Lord^s  freeman*",  as  the  free- 
man  was  Christ'^s  servant,  and  that  between  the  Jew  and  the 
Gentile  there  was  no  difference,  the  same  Lord  over  all  being  rich 
in  mercy  to  all  who  call  upon  him ;— who  insisted  so  continually 
and  pathetically  upon  the  unity  of  the  body,  as  having  one  head, 
one  hope,  ^'one  lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism^; — how  would  he 
deal  with  these  teachers  of  religion,  who  lend  their  sanction  to  a 
brutal  prejudice  which  defies  every  principle  of  Chriatianity  ? 
What  would  the  Apostle  have  said  to  those  who  should  have 
urged,  that  an  ^  ordination  of  Providence^  forbade  the  realising  of 
that  chimerical  unity  of  the  Church  upon  which  he  insisted;  tnat 
the  black  and  white  portions  of  the  mystical  body  of  Christ  are 
incapable  of  union  by  a  law  of  nature ;  that  the  prayer  of  the 
Saviour  is  at  variance  with  the  decrees  of  the  God  of  nature ;  that 
He  has  not  made  of  one  blood  all  races ;  and  that  the  mountains 
should  be  moved  from  their  foundations,  before  they  would  admit 
their  sable  fellows,  ^^  for  whom  Christ  died*",  to  the  privileges  of 
brethren  ?  Faithful  disciples  of  Him  who  ^^  gave  his  life  a 
ransom  for  alP;  who  has  left  this  prime  commandment,  binding 
upon  all, — ^^  As  ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye 
also  unto  them "";  and,  as  a  test  of  obedience,  ^^  By  this  shall  all 
men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  when  ye  love  one  another  !^ 

We  cannot  forbear  to  address  a  few  words  to  those  Christian 
ministers  in  this  country,  who  cherish,  as  becomes  them,  a 
brotherly  regard  for  the  transatlantic  churches,  and  are  apt  to 
look  with  a  degree  of  fondness  and  partiality  to  the  land  of  re- 
ligious freedom,  where  Christianity  has  seemed  to  put  forth  of 
late  so  holy  an  energy.  Far  be  it  from  us  to  wbh  to  check  those 
feelings,  and  to  sow  discord  between  the  two  countries.  But  this 
we  must  say ;  that  it  becomes  the  Christians  of  England  to  make 
their  voice  heard  across  the  Atlantic  on  behalf  of  thmr  coloured 
brethren ;  and  that  our  ministers  are  more  especially  bound  to 
enter  a  solemn  protest  against  the  antichristian  prejudice  which 
the  American  pastors  seem  either  timidly  to  yield  to,  or  criminally 
to  participate.  Nor,  speaking  for  ourselves,  and  willing  to  bear 
all  the  blame  attaching  to  the  avowal,  shall  we  be  disposed  to 
place  much  faith  in  American  revivals,  or  to  augur  well  for  the 
interests  of  religion  in  the  United  States,  so  long  as  American 
Christianity  shall  be  found  so  partial  or  so  feeble  in  its  operation, 


Claims  of  the  Blacks.  151 

as  to  exert  no  modifying  influence  upon  this  unjust^  cruel,  and 
insolent  prejudice. 

Its  essential  immorality  is  evinced  by  the  avowals  we  have 
transcribed,  which  shew  that  all  moral  distinctions  are  lost  sight 
of  in  comparison  with  a  superficial  physical  difference.  Virtue  is 
not  to  be  discriminated  from  vice,  knowledge  from  ignorance, 
probity  from  dishonesty,  piety  from  infidelity,  if  veiled  beneath  a 
colouied  skin.  The  lowest  profligate,  the  meanest  villain,  if  a 
white,  shall  be  admitted  to  contact  and  fellowship,  rather  than 
Toussaint  L^Ouverture,  or  Lott  Carey,  or  any  coloured  minister 
of  Christ.  The  Brazilian  Catholic  does  not  scruple  to  receive 
the  sacred  wafer  at  the  hands  of  a  black  priest :  the  American 
Protestant  will  not  enter  the  same  church  as  his  black  fellow 
dtixen!  And  what  is  this  insurmountable  physical  barrier.'^ 
Prejudice  is  not  to  be  reasoned  with,  but  let  us  be  allowed  to 
examine  the  matter  physiologically.      National  antipathies  are 

EnenJly  founded  upon,  or  fostered  by,  a  difference  of  creed,  of 
iguage,  of  habits,  or  an  hereditary  feud  between  an  intrusive 
and  an  aboriginal  race.  In  respect  to  the  whites  and  coloured 
people  of  the  United  States,  the  creed,  the  language,  the  habits 
are  the  same ;  and  both  are  alike  exotic  races  who  have  become 
naturalized  to  the  soil  together.  The  one  belongs  as  much  to 
Europe,  as  the  other  to  Africa ;  and  the  indigenous  tribes  may 
regard  both  alike  as  intruders.  Both  races  are  American  by 
birth,  English  in  language.  Christian  in  creed,  citizens  of  the 
same  political  family.  What  prevents  their  amalgamation  ?  A 
difierence  of  race  ?  No,  for  the  races  have  blended ;  the  proud 
white  blood  has  mingled  itself  with  the  African,  in  America  as  in 
the  West  Indies  and  every  where  else,  till  new  terms  have  been 
rendered  necessary  to  describe  the  shades  that  distinguish  the 

SEulations  by  which  the  mulatto  fades  into  the  quadroon  or 
rkens  into  the  zambo.  Physical  antipathy  between  the  white 
and  black  races,  nature  disowns.  It  is  not  strong  enough,  in  tro- 
pical climes,  to  become  the  faintest  check  upon  immorality.  To 
an  American  critic,  nothing  seems  so  unnatural,  so  monstrous  as 
the  love  of  Desdemona  for  the  Moor,  which  Shakspeare  has  shewn 
his  matchless  knowledge  of  human  nature  in  depicting  so  well. 
Brabantio  talks  just  like  a  lordly  American,  incredulous  that  a 
maid 

'  80  tender,  fair,  and  happy. 

So  opposite  to  marriage,  that  she  shuun'd 
The  wealthy  curled  darlings  of  our  nation^ 
Would  ever,  to  incur  a  general  mock. 
Run  from  her  guardage  to  the  sooty  bosom 
Of  such  a  thing.' 

The  noble  Venetian  is,  however,  much  more  easily  pacified  than 


152  ClaimM  of  the  Blacks. 

an  American  would  be^  on  finding  that  no  witchcraft  had  been 
employed,  and  on  hearing  Desdemona^s  simple  confession, — 

'  I  saw  Othello's  visage  in  his  mind.' 

Our  readers  will  excuse  this  little  digression.  It  is  not  every 
body,  we  admit,  that  would  readily  fall  in  love  with  a  Moor; 
yet,  in  Spain,  in  Sicily,  in  Syria,  Moor  and  Christian,  the  fiur- 
skinncd  European  and  the  swarthy  African,  have  freely  mingled. 
Will  it  be  said,  that  the  Moor,  although  an  African,  is  not  a 
black,  or  not  of  the  negro  race  ?  Even  admitting  this,  the  facts 
referred  to  prove  that  black  is  no  distinctive  mark  of  a  particular 
or  distinct  race,  and  that  nature  has  placed  no  barrier  of  anti- 
pathy between  the  black  and  white  races.  But  let  it  be  remem- 
bered, the  coloured  Americans  are  not  all  blacks  ♦ ;  nor  is  it  their 
being  black,  that  excludes  them,  as  a  degraded  caste,  from  the 
privileges  of  citizenship.  The  least  drop  of  African  blood,  if 
detected  in  the  complexion,  although  not  darker  than  that  of  an 
Andalusian  beauty,  is  fatal  to  their  rights.  No  proportion  of 
white  blood  can  ennoble  them.  This  anti-social  antipathy, 
therefore,  is  not  founded  on  mere  difference  of  colour,  or  of  race ; 
for,  if  so,  it  would  diminish  in  strength  as  the  physical  cause  be- 
came modified.  "What  then  is  its  real  source  ?  It  is  the  pride 
of  caste.  The  association  of  slavery  with  the  darker  complexion, 
is  so  strong,  that  the  American  hidalgo^  in  whom,  as  Burke  ex- 
pressed it,  ^  the  haughtiness  of  domination  combines  with  the 
^  spirit  of  freedom  ^  cannot  disconnect  them.  Freedom  is  to  the 
Americans,  as  that  great  orator  remarked,  ^  not  only  an  enjoy- 
^  ment,  but  a  rank  and  a  privilege'';  and  the  white  aristocrat  is 
consequently  at  once  '  proud  and  jealous  of  his  freedom '. 

But  in  whatever  way  we  may  account  for  the  strength  of  the 
prejudice,  are  the  claims  of  justice  and  humanity  annulled  by  its 
existence .?  Is  the  haughtiness  of  caste  to  be  allowed  for  ever  to 
suspend  or  to  trample  upon  the  laws  of  morality  ?  Christianity 
has  l)een  sufficiently  powerful  to  break  down  the  middle  wall  that 
partitioned  ofl*  the  Jew  from  the  Gentile, — to  loosen  the  yoke  of 
caste  from  the  neck  of  the  Indian  Soodra,  and  reduce  the  unsocial 
pride  of  the  Brahmin,  —  to  make  savage  nations  forget  their  an- 
cient feuds  and  mutual  antipathies  ;  and  shall  it  be  said  that  it 


*  IVIr.  Garrison  says:  '  In  truth,  it  is  often  so  difficulty  in  the  Slave 
States,  to  distinguish  between  the  fruits  of  mixed  intercourse  and  the 
children  of  white  ])arcnts,  that  tviinesses  are  summoned  at  court  io  soive 
the  problem  !  Talk  of  the  barriers  of  Nature,  when  the  land  swarms 
with  living  refutations  of  the  statement !  Happy,  indeed,  would  it 
be  for  many  a  female  slave,  if  such  a  barrier  could  exist.'     (p.  145.) 


Claims  of  the  Blacks.  153 

cannot  subdue  this  pride  of  caste  in  the  American  ?     It  roust 
iind  will  give  way. 

The  whole  tale  of  the  wrongs  of  the  coloured  race  has  not» 
however,  yet  been  told.  We  regret  to  state,  that  the  projected 
expulsion  of  the  free  coloured  natives,  is  only  a  counterpart  of 
the  system  which  is  pursued  towards  both  that  class  and  the 
slaves,  whom  it  is  determined  to  retain  in  the  lowest  degradation, 
lest  their  knowledge  should  become  power,  and  that  power  prove 
fatal  to  irresponsible  tyranny.  What  will  our  readers  think  of 
the  following  disclosures  ? 

*  The  legislative  enactment  of  Ohio,  which  not  long  since  drove 
many  of  the  coloured  inhabitants  of  that  State  into  Upper  Canada, 
was  the  legitimate  fruit  of  the  anathemas  of  the  Colonization  Society. 
A  bill  has  been  reported  in  the  same  legislature,  for  preventing  free 
people  of  colour  from  participating  in  the  benefit  of  the  common  school 
fund,  in  order  to  hasten  their  expulsion  from  the  State  !  Other  States 
are  multiplying  similar  disabilities,  and  hanging  heavier  weights  upon 
their  free  coloured  population.  The  Legislature  of  Louisiana  has 
enacted,  that  whosoever  shall  make  use  of  language,  in  any  public  dis- 
course, from  the  bar,  the  bench,  the  pulpit,  the  stage,  or,  in  any  other 
place  whatsoever,  shall  make  use  of  language,  in  any  private  discourses, 
or  shall  make  use  of  signs  or  actions  having  a  tendency  to  produce  dis- 
content among  the  coloured  population,  shall  suffer  imprisonment  at 
bard  labour,  not  iess  than  three  years,  nor  more  than  twenty-one 
years,  or  dkath,  at  the  discretion  of  the  court !  !  It  has  also  prohibited 
the  instruction  of  the  blacks  in  Sabbath  Schools — 500  dollars  penalty 
for  the  first  offence — death  for  the  second  ! !  The  Legislature  of 
Virginia  has  passed  a  bill  which  subjects  all  free  negroes  who  shall  be 
convicted  of  remaining  in  the  commonwealth  contrary  to  law,  to  the 
liability  of  being  sold  by  the  sheriff.  All  meetings  of  free  negroes,  at 
any  school-house  or  meeting-house,  for  teaching  them  reading  or 
writing,  are  declared  an  unlawful  assembly  ;  and  it  is  made  the  duty 
of  any  justice  of  the  peace  to  issue  his  warrant  to  enter  the  house 
where  such  unlawful  assemblage  is  held,  for  the  purpose  of  appre- 
hending or  dispersing  such  free  negroes.  A  fi  ne  is  to  be  imposed  on  every 
white  person  who  instructs  at  such  meeting.  All  emancipated  slaves,  who 
shall  remain  more  than  twelve  months,  contrary  to  law,  shall  revert  to 
the  executors  as  assets.  Laws  have  been  passed  in  Georgia  and  North 
Carolina,  imposing  a  heavy  tax  or  imprisonment  on  every  free  person 
of  colour  who  shall  come  into  their  ports  in  the  capacity  of  stewards, 
cooks,  or  seamen  of  any  vessels  belonging  to  the  non-slave-holding 
States.  The  Legislature  of  Tennessee  has  passed  an  act  forbiddiug 
free  blacks  from  coming  into  the  State  to  remain  more  than  twenty 
days.  The  penalty  is  a  fine  of  from  ten  to  fifty  dollars,  and  confine- 
ment in  the  penitentiary  from  one  to  two  years.  Double  the  highest 
penalty  is  to  be  inflicted  after  the  first  offence.  The  act  also  prohibits 
manumission,  without  an  immediate  removal  from  the  State.  The 
last  Legislature  of  Maryland  passed  a  bill,  by  which  no  free  negro  or 
mulatto  is  allowed  to  emigrate  to,  or  settle  in  the  State,  under  the 
penalty  of  fifty  dollars  for  every  week's  residence  therein  ;  and  if  he 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  S 


154  Claims  of  the  Blacks. 

refuse  or  n^Iect  to  pay  sucb  fine^  be  shall  be  committed  to  jail  aud 
sold  by  the  sheriff  at  public  sale ;  and  no  person  shall  employ  or  har- 
bour him,  under  the  penalty  of  twenty  dollars  for  every  day  he  shall 
be  so  employed,  hired,  or  harboured  !  It  is  not  lawful  for  any  free 
blacks  to  attend  any  meetings  for  religious  purposes,  unless  conducted 
by  a  ichife  licensed  or  ordained  preacher,  or  some  respectable  white 
person  duly  authorized !  All  free  coloured  persons  residing  in  the 
State,  are  compelled  to  register  their  names,  ages,  &c.  &c. ;  and  if 
any  negro  or  mulatto  shall  remove  &om  the  State,  and  remain  without 
the  limits  thereof  for  a  space  longer  than  thirty  consecutive  days,  un- 
less before  leaving  the  State  he  de[)osits  with  the  clerk  of  the  county  in 
which  he  resides,  a  irrilien  slalement  of  his  object  in  doing  so,  and  his 
intention  of  returning  again,  or  unless  he  shall  have  been  detained  by 
sickness  or  coercion,  o/*  which  he  shall  bring  a  certificate,  he  shall  be 
regarded  as  a  resident  of  another  State,  and  be  subject,  if  he  return, 
to  the  penalties  imposed  by  the  foregoing  provisions  upon  free  negroes 
and  mulattoes  of  another  State,  migrating  to  Maryland  !  It  is  not 
lawful  for  any  person  or  persons  to  purchase  of  any  free  negro  or  mu- 
latto any  articles,  unless  he  produce  a  certiHcate  from  a  justice  of  the 
peace,  or  three  respectable  persons  residing  in  his  neighbonrhood,  that 
he  or  they  have  reason  to  believe,  and  do  believe,  that  such  free  negro 
or  mulatto  came  honestly  and  bona  fide  into  possession  of  any  such  ar- 
ticles so  offered  for  sale !  A  bill  has  been  reported  to  the  Legisla- 
ture of  Pennsylvania,  which  enacts,  that  from  and  after  a  specified 
time,  no  negro  or  mulatto  shall  be  permitted  to  emigrate  into  and 
settle  in  that  State,  without  entering  into  bond  in  the  penal  sum  of 
Jive  hundred  dollars,  conditioned  for  his  good  behaviour.  If  he  neglect 
or  refuse  to  comply  with  this  requisition,  such  punishment  shall  be  in- 
flicted upon  him  as  is  now  directed  in  the  case  of  vagrants.  Free 
coloured  residents  are  not  to  be  allowed  to  migrate  from  one  township 
or  county  to  another,  without  producing  a  certificate  from  the  derk  ot 
the  Court  of  Quarter  Sessions,  or  a  Justice  of  the  Peace,  or  an  Alder- 
man !  The  passage  of  a  similar  law  has  been  urged  even  upon  the 
Legislature  of  Massachusetts  by  a  writer  in  the  Salem  Gazette ! 

'  All  these  proscriptive  measures,  and  others  lesa  conspicuous  but 
equally  oppressive, — which  are  not  only  flagrant  violations  of  the  con- 
stitution of  the  United  States,  but  in  the  highest  degree  disgraceful 
and  inhuman, — are  resorted  to,  (to  borrow  the  language  of  the  Secre- 
tary in  his  Fifteenth  Annual  Report,)  *'  for  the  more  complete  ac- 
complishment of  the  great  objects  of  the  American  Colonization  So- 
ciety"'!!    pp.  10(J-108. 

'  In  the  Appendix  to  the  Seventh  Annual  Report,  p.  94,  the 
position  is  assumed,  that  '^  it  is  a  well  established  point,  that  the 
public  safety  forbids  either  the  emancipation  or  general  instruction 
of  the  slaves."  The  recent  enactment  of  laws  in  some  of  the 
slave  States,  prohibiting  the  instruction  of  free  coloured  persons  as 
well  as  slaves,  has  received  something  more  than  a  tacit  approval 
from  the  organ  of  the  Society.  A  prominent  advocate  of  the  Society, 
(6.  P.  Disosway,  Esq.,)  in  an  oration  on  the  fourth  of  July,  1831, 
alluding  to  these  laws,  says : — ''  The  public  safety  of  our  brethren  at 
the  South  requires  them  [[the  slavesj  to  l>e  kept  ignorant  and  unin- 


Claims  of  the  Blacks.  155 

Btmcted."  The  £ditor  of  the  Southern  Religious  Telegraphy  who  is  a 
dergyman  and  a  warm  friend  of  the  colonization  scheme,  remarking 
upon  the  instruction  of  the  coloured  population  of  Virginia,  says : 

' "  Teaching  a  servant  to  read,  is  not  teaching  him  the  religion  of 
Christ.  The  great  majority  of  the  white  people  of  our  country  are 
taught  to  read ;  but  probably  not  one  in  five,  of  those  who  have  the 
Bible^  is  a  Christian,  in  the  legitimate  sense  of  the  term.  If  black 
people  are  as  depraved  and  as  averse  to  true  religion  as  the  white 
people  are — and  we  know  of  no  difference  between  them  in  this  re- 
spect^teaching  them  to  read  the  Bible  will  make  Christians  of  very 
few  of  them.  [[What  a  plea !]  .  .  If  Christian  masters  were  to  teach 
their  servants  to  read,  we  apprehend  that  they  would  not  feel  the  obli- 
gation as  they  ought  to  feel  it,  of  giving  them  oral  instruction^  and 
often  impressing  divine  truth  on  their  minds.  [!!]  .  .  If  the  free 
coloured  people  were  generally  taught  to  read,  it  might  be  an  induce" 
ment  to  them  to  remain  in  thus  country.  We  would  offer  them 
NO  SUCH  INDUCEMENT.  []  ! !  ]  .  .  A  knowledge  of  letters  and  of  all 
the  arts  and  sdences,  cannot  counteract  the  influences  under  which 
the  character  of  the  negro  must  be  formed  in  this  country.  .  .  It  ap- 
pears to  us  that  a  greater  benefit  may  be  conferred  on  the  free  coloured 
people^  by  planting  good  schools  for  them  in  Africa,  and  encouraging 
them  to  remove  there,  than  by  giving  them  the  knowledge  of  letters 
to  make  them  contented  in  their  present  condition." ' — ^Telegraph  of 
Feb.  19,  1831.] 

'  Jesuitism  was  never  more  subtle,  Papal  domination  never  more 
exclusive.  The  gospel  of  peace  and  mercy  preached  by  him  who  holds' 
that  ignorance  is  the  mother  of  devotion  !  who  would  sequestrate  the 
Bible  from  the  eyes  of  his  fellow-men  !  who  contends  that  knowledge 
18  the  enemy  of  religion  !  who  denies  the  efhcacy  of  education  in  ele-' 
vating  a  degraded  population  !  who  would  make  men  brutes  in  order 
to  make  them  better  Christians !  who  desires  to  make  the  clergy  in- 
fallible guides  to  heaven  !  Now  what  folly  and  impiety  is  all  this  ! 
Besides,  is  it  not  mockery  to  preach  repentance  and  faith  in  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  to  the  benighted  blacks,  and  at  the  same  time  deny  them 
the  riffht  and  ability  to  "  search  the  Scriptures"  for  themselves  ? 

'  The  proposition  which  was  made  last  year,  to  erect  a  college  for 
the  education  of  coloured  youth  in  New  Haven,  it  is  well  known, 
created  an  extraordinary  and  most  disgraceful  tumult  in  that  place, 
(the  hot-bed  of  African  colonization,)  and  was  generally  scouted  by  the 
friends  of  the  Society  in  other  places.  The  American  Spectator  at 
Washington,  (next  to  the  African  Repository,  the  mouth-piece  of  the 
Society,)  used  the  following  language,  in  relation  to  the  violent 
proceedings  of  the  citizens  of  New  Haven.  "  We  not  only  approve 
the  course  which  they  have  pursued,  but  we  admire  the  moral  courage 
which  induced  them ^/br  the  love  of  right,  (!)  to  incur  the  censure  of 
both  sections  of  the  country." 

'  As  a  further  illustration  of  the  complacency  with  which  colonization- 
ists  regard  the  laws  prohibiting  the  instruction  of  the  blacks,  I  extract 
the  following  paragraph  from  the  "  Proceedings  of  the  New- York, 
State  Colonization  Society,  on  its  second  anniversary : " 

'  *'  It  is  the  business  of  the  free — their  safety  requires  it — to  keiep 

s2 


156  Claima  of  the  Blacks. 

the  slaves  in  ignorance.  Their  education  is  utterly  prohibited.  Edu- 
cate them,  and  they  break  their  fetters.  Suppose  the  slaves  of  the 
south  to  have  the  knowledge  of  freemen,  they  would  be  free,  or  be  ex- 
terminated by  the  whites.  This  renders  it  necessary  to  prevent  their 
instruction — to  keep  them  from  Sunday  Schools,  and  other  means  of 
gaining  knowledge.  But  a  few  days  ago,  a  proposition  was  made  in 
the  legislature  of  Georgia,  to  allow  them  so  much  instruction  as  to 
enable  them  to  read  the  Bible ;  which  was  promptly  rejected  by  a 
large  majority.  I  do  not  mention  this  for  the  purpose  of  candemntng 
the  policy  of  the  slave-holding  States,  but  to  lament  its  necessity" 

'  £lias  B.  Caldwell,  one  of  the  founders^  and  the  first  secretary  of 
the  Parent  Society,  in  a  speech  delivered  at  its  formation,  advanced 
the  following  monstrous  sentiments : 

*  **  The  more  you  improve  the  condition  of  these  people,  the  more 
you  cultivate  their  minds,  the  more  miserable  you  make  them  in  their 
present  state.  You  give  them  a  higher  relish  for  those  privileges 
which  they  can  never  attain,  and  turn  what  you  intend  for  a  blessing 
into  a  curse.  No,  if  they  must  remain  in  their  present  situation, 
keep  them  in  the  lowest  state  of  ignorance  and  degradation.  The 
nearer  you  bring  them  to  the  condition  of  brutes,  the  better  chance  do 
you  give  them  of  possessing  their  apathy." 

'  So,  then,  the  American  Colonization  Society  advocates,  and  to  a 
great  extent  perpetuates,  the  ignorance  and  degradation  of  the  coloured 
population  of  the  United  States  !'     pp.  148,  149. 

^  The  reason  why  the  slaves  are  so  ignorant,  is,  because  they 

*  are  held  in  bondage ;   and  the  reason  why  they  are  held  in 

*  bondage,  is,  because  they  are  so  ignorant.  They  ought  not  to 
'  be  freed  until  they  are  educated ;  and  they  ought  not  to  be 

*  educated,  because,  on  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  they  would 

*  burst  their  fetters.**  Such,  Mr.  Garrison  says,  is  the  logic  of 
the  American  apologists  for  slavery,  as  we  know  it  to  be  that  of 
the  Jamaica  planters;  and  within  this  vicious  circle,  all  their 
miserable  shifts  and  evasions  move  round.  We  have  the  best 
authority,  then,  for  the  conclusion,  that  slavery  and  education  are 
incompatible ;  that  the  plan  of  educating  slaves  for  freedom  is 
altogether  chimerical  and  impracticable.  What!  educate  a  man^s 
property  for  becoming  alienated  from  him  .?  Will  those  who  view 
emancipation  in  this  light,  ever  be  induced  to  take,  in  good  faith, 
the  steps  preparatory  to  the  issue  they  de])recate  ?  Such  an  ex- 
pectation would  betray  an  utter  ignorance  of  human  nature,  and 
an  extreme  of  credulity  perfectly  ridiculous.  Let  us  then  hear  no 
more  of  educating  slaves  with  the  consent  of  their  masters*. 
There  may  be  a  few  honourable  exceptions;  but  the  slave-holders 
of  Jamaica,  and  those  of  the  United  States,  are  generally  quite  in 

♦  We  transcribe  the  following  from  the  Globe  of  Jan.  24.  On  the 
12th  of  Dec.  last,  in  the  House  of  Representatives  of  South  Carolina, 
'  a  bill  prohibiting  the  teaching  of  slaves  to  read,  was  called  up,  read 
a  third  time,  passed,  and  sent  to  the  senate  for  concurrence.' 


Claims  of  the  Blacks.  167 

sooordance  upon  this  point.  They  say,  that  their  slaves  shall 
not  be  instructed,  for  then  they  would  know  themselves  to  be 
men*  As  to  those  who  profess  their  willingness  to  consent  to  the 
abolition  of  slavery,  as  soon  as  the  slaves  are  prepared  for  it,  let 
it  be  recollected,  that  the  apologists  for  the  slave-trade  consented 
that  the  trade  should  be  abolished,  as  soon  as  the  colonies  on  the 
coast  of  Guinea  should  have  become  civilized. 

*•  Wo  to  the  policy,^  exclaims  the  philanthropic  Bishop  6re- 
goire,  the  enlightened  Ami  des  Noirs^  ^  that  would  found  the 
^  prosperity  of  a  nation  on  the  misery  of  others  !  And  wo  to  the 
'  man  whose  fortune  is  cemented  by  the  tears  of  his  fellow  men  ! 
^  It  is  according  to  the  established  order  of  things  under  the  con- 
*'  trol  of  Divine  Providence,  that  whatever  is  iniquitous  should  be 
^  at  the  same  time  impolitic,  and  that  fearful  calamities  should  be 
^  the  chastisement  of  crime.  The  individual  culprit  suffers  not 
'  always  here  below,  the  punishment  due  to  his  offence  ;  because, 
^  to  use  the  words  of  St  Augustine,  God  has  eternity  to  punish 

*  in.     It  is  not  so  with  nations:  in  their  collective  capacity,  they 

*  do  not  belong  to  the  future  state  of  existence.     In  this  world, 

*  therefore,  according  to  the  same  Father,  they  are  either  recom- 
'  pensed,  or  punished,  as  so  many  nations  have  been,  for  national 

*  crimes,  by  national  calamities.'*  * 

In  the  political  and  moral  effects  of  slavery,  and  its  contingent 
dangers,  the  crime  carries  with  it  in  some  degree  its  own  punish- 
ment ;  and  nothing  can  more  strikingly  illustrate  this,  than  the 
present  aspect  of  things  in  the  United  States.  There,  we  have 
all  classes  affecting  to  deplore  its  existence  in  the  heart  of  society 
as  a  calamity,  yet,  refusing  to  repent  of  or  to  abjure  the  sin. 
There,  by  a  monstrous  inversion  of  sentiment,  we  find  it  seriously 
maintained,  that  it  is  the  slave-holders,  not  the  slaves,  who  are  to 
be  commiserated,  as  being,  by  an  unhappy  necessity,  involved  in 
the  system*  The  whites,  not  the  blacks,  who  are  ^  a  nuisance  % 
are  tq  be  pitied*  There  is  a  sense,  perhaps,  in  which  this  may  be 
partially  true.  The  injurer  is  more  to  be  pitied  than  the  injured, 
the  criminal  than  the  sufferer ;  and  that  perversion  of  moral  feel- 
ing which  seems  to  have  spread,  like  a  contagion,  from  the  south 
to  the  north,  through  all  the  classes  of  American  society,  has 
something  in  it  more  frightful  than  the  physical  degradation  of 
the  blacks  themselves.  The  plague-spot,  slavery,  has  infected 
every  thing  within  reach  of  contact.  Its  effects  are  seen  in  the 
morbid  pride,  the  tremulous  apprehension,  the  short-sighted  efforts, 
of  the  whites.  Slavery,  in  America,  has  rendered  the  constitution 
a  lie,  changed  nature  into  an  enemy,  made  the  increase  of  po- 

I>uIation  a  tremendous  evil,  and  occasioned  the  increase  of  know- 
edge  and  virtue  in  the  proscribed  caste,  to  be  dreaded  as  a  still 


«      €€ 


De  La  Traite  e(  de  VEsclavage"     Paris.     18J5. 


158  Claima  of  the  Blacks. 

greater  evil.  Hatred  and  fear,  mingled  with  a  pottioii  of  national 
shame,  form  the  scourge  with  which  shivery  is  at  this  time  lashing 
the  Americans.  But  this  is  not  all.  The  existence  of  profitable 
slavery  in  the  southern  states,  of  unprofitable  slavery  in  the  middle 
states,  and  of  a  caste,  the  ofispring  of  abolished  slavery,  in  the  north- 
em  and  middle  states, — is  the  principal  origin  of  the  widening 
breach  between  the  different  sections  of  the  Union*  It  is  this 
circumstance  which  renders  their  several  interests  all  but  incom- 
patible. The  seeds  of  discord  which  are  now  ripening  into  open 
conflict,  have  been  sown  by  Slavery.  We  consequently  find  the 
Slave-states  the  most  tenacious  of  their  sovereignty,  while  almost 
all  the  great  slave-holders  are  anti-federalists*  Nine  states  out  of 
the  twenty -four  have  now  no  slaves;  and  four  more,  in  the  middle 
and  western  sections,  comparatively  few.  But  in  the  remaining 
eleven,  the  slaves,  who  numbered  in  1790  less  than  700,000 
throughout  the  Union,  now  amount  to  2,010,000,  having  nearly 
trebled  in  forty- two  years;  and  of  these,  about  a  million  are  con- 
centrated in  Virginia,  the  Carolinas,  and  Georgia,  between  the 
Potomac  and  the  Alatamaha.  With  the  growth  of  the  slave  po- 
pulation, has  grown  the  anti-federal  feeling,  in  which,  Washing- 
ton foresaw  the  probable  cause  of  the  disruption  of  the  Federacy, 
and  the  downfal  of  the  fair  fabric  he  had  so  greatly  contribute 
to  consolidate.  Thus  is  the  curse  of  Slavery  preying  on  the  vitals 
of  the  constitution.  But  will  it  entail  no  otner  national  punish- 
ment upon  those  who  persist  in  ^  founding  their  prosperity  oh  the 
^  misery  and  degradation  of  others  V  **  Shall  I  not  visit  for  these 
things  ?  saith  the  Lord.^' 

From  America,  we  turn  to  England  with  feelings  of  mingled 
'  hope  and  intense  anxiety.  Upon  the  English  soil,  the  slave  is 
free.  The  British  Legislature  is  the  arena,  in  which  the  monster 
Slavery  must  be  dragged  forth  to  receive  its  death-blow.  The 
attention  of  both  hemispheres  is  fixed  upon  the  approaching  con- 
test. It  is  not  Jamaica  slavery  only,  but  Carolina  slavery,  Cuba 
slavery,  Brazilian  slavery,  that  it  depends  upon  the  decision  of 
Great  Britain  to  extinguish.  Five  millions  and  a  half  of  slaves 
are  awaiting  the  verdict  that  shall  find  and  proclaim  them— men. 
Evidence  enough  in  all  conscience  has  been  heard  on  both  sides. 
We  have  now  on  our  table  the  three  immense  folio  volumes,  con- 
taining the  Reports  of  the  Lords^  Committee  and  the  House  of 
Commons'*  Committee,  with  the  minutes  of  the  evidence  respec- 
tively laid  before  them,  which,  by  those  who  have  access  to  them, 
and  leisure  for  the  perusal,  will  be  found  an  invaluable  mass  of 
information,  and  altogether  decisive  of  the  question*  Of  the 
evidence  annexed  to  the  Commons'*  Report,  the  present  Num- 
ber of  the  Anti-Slavery  Reporter  contains  a  very  able  analysis, 
with  some  pithy  notes  by  the  Editor  (we  believe,  Mr.  Z.  Ma- 
caulay).     In  this  condensed  form,  every  one  may  easily  make 


Claims  of  the  Blacks.  169 

himsdf  master  of  the  facts  established  by  the  evidence,  which 
amply  sustain  the  following  two  propositions.  1.  That  the  Slaves, 
if  emancipated,  will  adequately  maintain  themselves  by  their  own 
labour.  2.  That  the  danger  of  withholding  freedom  from  the 
slaves,  is  greater  than  that  of  granting  it.  Upon  the  present  oc^ 
casion,  we  cannot  attempt  to  go  into  the  details  of  the  evidence, 
either  in  the  shape  of  abstract  or  of  extracts ;  and  indeed,  we 
earnestly  hope  that  the  majority  of  our  readers  will  lose  no  time 
in  procuring  and  attentively  perusing  the  whole  of  this  interesting 
document. 

It  may  not,  however,  be  so  obvious  at  first  sight,  as  it  is  true 
in  fact,  that  upon  these  two  propositions  hinges  the  whole  ques* 
don  as  regards  the  expediency  of  early  emancipation.  *'  The  im« 
'  portant  question  of  what  is  due  to  the  fair  and  equitable  con- 
^  sideration  of  the  interests  of  private  property,  as  connected  with 
'  emancipation,^  was  not  investigated  by  the  Commons'*  Coul- 
mittee ;  and  it  may  be  thought  by  some  of  our  readers,  that  this 
enters,  even  as  a  preliminary  inquiry,  into  the  general  question  of 
expediency.  Upon  this  point,  we  shall  content  ourselves  with 
transcribing  the  following  remarks,  which  have  appeared  in  the 
Patriot  newspaper. 

*  This  consideration  (the  interests  of  private  propertv)  ought 
not  to  be  allowed  for  one  moment  to  embarrass  the  settlement  of 
the  question,  for  three  obvious  reasons :  First,  the  negro,  at 
least,  owes  nothing  to  the  planter^  and  the  victims  of  our  nar 
tional  guilt  ought  not  to  continue  to  suffer,  ''while  we  are 
haggling  about  the  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence.^  Secondly, 
when  it  is  finally  determined  that  slavery  shall  cease,  it  will  be 
quite  time  enough  to  go  into  the  consideration  of  those  special 
pases  of  hardship  which  may  possibly  require  an  equitable  re- 
medy. The  claim  to  compensation  is  at  present  urged  only  as 
an  argument  ad  terrorem^  as  it  was  during  the  agitation  of  the 
slave-trade  question;  the  justice  and  the  impracticability  of 
compensation  being  insisted  upon  in  the  same  breath.  But  for 
what  is  the  slave-holder  to  be  compensated  P  For  the  loss  of 
his  power  over  the  person  of  the  negro,  or  for  the  loss  of  his 
command  over  the  labour  of  the  negro  ?  If  for  the  former,  he 
may  just  as  reasonably  claim  compensation  for  every  abridgement 
of  his  arbitrary  power  by  humane  enactments.  If  for  the  latter, 
he  has  to  prove  that  his  command  over  that  labour  will  be  taken 
away,  or  even  diminished,  by  the  abolition  of  slavery.  Thirdly, 
let  it  be  but  admitted,  what  the  evidence  condensed  in  this 
pamphlet  triumphantly  estabUshes,  that  the  slaves  will,  if  eman- 
cipated, maintain  themselves  by  their  labour,  and  that  no  danger 
would  result  from  granting  them  freedom ;  it  follows  that  the 
abolition  of  slavery  would  be  in  two  respects  a  boon  to  the 
planter :  first,  by  cheapening  labour ;  (free  labour  being  always 


160  Claims  of  the  Blacks. 

*  cheapest ;)  and  secondly,  by  extingiushing  the  element  of  danger 

*  whicn  is  always  generated  by  slavery,  and  with  it,  both  the 

*  conscious  feeling   of  insecurity  and   the  cost    of   protection. 

*  Should  it  appear  that  the  interests  of  private  property,  the  value 
^  of  all  the  legitimate  property,  are  enhanced  by  the  change  in 
^  the  condition  of  the  slave,  (which  it  is  our  firm  belief  that,  ul- 

*  timately  at  least,  they  would  be,)  the  claim  for  equitable  and 
^  reasonable  compensation  would  be  brought  within  very  narrow 
^  limits. 

'  West  Indians,  and  many  persons  who  are  less  excusable  for 
^  the  prejudice,  have  so  long  been  in  the  habit  of  considering  the 
^  negroes  as  so  much  stock,  that  they  consider  the  proposal  to 

*  raise  them  to  the  social  level  of  men,  as  tantamount  to  robbine 

*  them  of  so  many  head  of  cattle.  They  forget  this  trifling  dif^ 
'  ference  between  the  human  herd  employed  upon  their  plantations 
^  and  the  live  stock  of  a  farm ;  the  negro  is  of  no  use,  eopcept  for 

*  his  labour.  He  cannot  now,  in  the  British  islands  at  least,  be 
^  bred  for  a  foreign  market.  He  yields  neither  milk,  flesh,  wool, 
'  horn,  nor  hides.  An  old  negro  is  a  burden  to  the  proprietor. 
^  A  dead  negro  is  worth   something  less  than  nothing.      His 

*  muscles  and  sinews  alone  are  valuable,  when  set  to  work  by  the 
.  *  cart- whip  and  other  apparatus.     Now,  as  the  property  in  the 

*  person  of  the  negro  is  valuable  simply  as  giving  a  command 
^  over  his  physical  labour,  if  that  command  can  be  secured  with- 
'  out  the  proprietorship,  which  is  in  itself  a  burden,  what  does  the 

*  slave-holder  lose  by  giving  up  his  whole  stock  ?  What  more 
'  than  a  gentleman  who  should  give  up  his  carriage-horses,  on 

*  condition  of  being  furnished  witn  the  use  of  horses  by  the  jobber, 

*  on  cheaper  terms  than  he  could  maintain  his  own  in  the  livery- 

*  stable,  taking  into  account  the  chances  of  loss  by  death,  the  ve- 

*  terinary  surgeon^s  and  farricr^s  bills,  and  the  other  attendant 

*  expenses  ? 

*'  Or  let  us  suppose  that  the  gentleman^s  horses  had  died,  or 
^  that  they  were  found  to  be  stolen  property,  to  which  he  could 

*  not  make  a  valid  or  legitimate  claim  ; — lie  loses,  it  is  true,  the 
^  market  price  of  the  horse,  but  he  saves  the  amount,  perhaps,  in 
'  the  first  or  second  year  of  his  adopting  the  cheaper,  thougn  less 

*  dignified  method  of  hiring.     Is  he  greatly  to  be  pitied  ? 

^  But  if  to  hold  men  in  slavery  be  a  crime, — call  it  a  national 

*  or  an  individual  crime, — the  only  preliminary  question  ought  to 

*  be,  Can  it  be  abolished  without  injury  to  the  great  sufferers  by 

*  that  crime,  or  without  a  disproportionate  punishment  falling 
^  upon  the  guilty  principals  in  that  crime  ?     Admitting  that  the 

*  whole  nation  participates  in  the  guilt,  as  originally  an  accessary ; 
^  that  it  has,  in  former  times,  sanctioned  and  encouraged  slavery, 

*  and  the  slave-trade  too ;  that  the  feeling  of  its  moral  turpitude 
'  is  a  feeling  of  modem  growth :  for  this  its  sin,  greatly  a  nn  of 


Gurney's  Biblical  Dissertations.  161 

Ignorance,  this  nation  has  been  punished  in  various  ways, — has 
been  mulcted,  and  taxed,  and  injured  in  its  best  interests ;  has 
been  deprived  of  its  American  colonies,  which,  in  retaining  that 
fatal  legacy  of  slavery,  have  clung  to  a  curse  that  is  now  begin- 
ning to  work  upon  the  vitals  of  the  State.  But  what  punish- 
ment is  not  due  from  God  and  man  to  those  guiltier  principals 
in  the  crime,  who — when  a  whole  nation  has  at  length  wakened  to 
repentance, — deaf  to  all  remonstrance,  after  forty  years'*  warning 
— persist  in  heaping  fresh  wrongs  and  injuries  upon  the  victims 
of  their  oppression,  stigmatizing  the  sentiments  of  common  hu- 
manity as  cant  and  hypocrisy,  persecuting  the  ministers  of 
religion,  and  defying  the  very  Government  that  protects  them 
in  their  crimes  ?  We  invoke  no  human  vengeance  upon  Ja- 
maica, but  we  know  who  has  said,  "  I  will  repay.''  Our  anxiety 
is,  that  England  should  not  continue  to  be  involved  in  the  guilt 
of  tolerating  the  continuance  of  the  wrong. 
^  The  time  is  come  for  the  settlement  of  the  question.  If 
slavery  is  not  now  abolished,  it  will  be  the  fault  of  Christians 
in  this  country.  Nothing  can  much  longer  delay  the  abolition, 
but  the  supineness  or  mistakes  of  the  friends  to  emancipation. 
We  entreat  our  readers  to  be  on  their  guard  against  delusions. 
The  following  has  been  announced,  among  ^^  the  political  prin- 
ciples of  the  Conservatives,''  as  the  specific  pretext  upon  which 
the  abolition  of  slavery  is  now  to  be  resisted  by  the  ^o-slavery 
party : — 

*  **  To  promote,  after  a  just  and  full  compensation  shall  have 
been  secured  to  the  proprietor  of  each  slave,  the  abolition  of 
slavery  throughout  the  British  dominions,  at  such  time,  in  each 
colony,  as  it  can  be  effected  with  advantage  to  the  slaves,  safety 
to  the  colonies,  and  security  to  the  shipping  and  commercial 
interests  of  the  empire !!" 

*  That  is,  delay,  upon  a  double  pretext,  ad  infinitum.  We 
say.  Now.     Our  opponents  mean,  Never.' 

We  do  not  say.  Now  or  never.     But,  if  ever,  now. 


Art.  V.  Biblical  Notes  and  Dissertations,  chiefly  intended  to  confirm 
and  illostrate  the  doctrine  of  the  Deity  of  Christ ;  with  some  Re- 
marks on  the  practical  ixtibottaftce  of  that  doctrine.  By  Joseph 
John  Gumey.    8vo.     pp.  480.    London,  1832. 

TIIBLICAL  Criticism  has  hitherto  received  but  few  contribu- 
•^^  tions  from  the  Society  of  Friends.  As  a  religious  body,  they 
have  almost  universally  discovered  an  aversion  to  theological  dis« 
cussions ;  and  the  spirit  which  might  tend  to  excite  and  extend 
them,  has  generally  been  checked  and  repressed  by  their  leaders, 

VOL.  IX» — N.*.  T 


16e  Gurney's  Biblical  Di^aeftatUtm. 

The  controverfiies  which  have  occasionally  apruog  up  within  the 
Society,  have  been  subdued,  rather  than  determined ;  and  the  in- 
fluence of  authority  has  been  more  powerful  than  that  of  know- 
ledge,  in  maintaining  the  forbearance  and  quietude  which  prevail 
in  their  community.  On  the  oth^  hand,  they  display  no  soli- 
citude to  enlarge  their  denomination,  and  make  no  exertions  to 
diffuse  their  principles.  In  this  respect,  the  f'riends  oS  the  pre- 
sent day  greatly  differ  from  their  founders,  who  were  unsparing 
in  the  manifestations  of  an  ever-restless  and  adventurous  zeal  for 
the  propagation  of  their  opinions.  The  religious  controversies  of 
the  times  have  publicly  engaged  but  little  of  their  attention. 
There  have,  indeed,  been  writers  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  who 
have  given  proofs  of  their  application  to  the  study  of  the  Bible ; 
but  these  have  been  but  few,  nor  have  they  been  distinguished 
for  any  essential  services  rendered  either  to  the  exposition  or  to 
the  defence  of  evangelical  truth.  We  have  now  before  us  almost 
the  first  erudite  treatise  in  support  of  fundamental  Scriptural  doc- 
trines, from  which  we  can  conclude  that  the  cultivation  of  Biblical 
criticism  is  not  wholly  neglected  by  them.  Mr.  Gurney^s  vo- 
lume, for  sobriety,  explicitness,  and  learning,  must  take  prece- 
dence of  the  theological  productions  of  the  community  of  which 
he  is  an  ornament,  and  is  entitled  to  an  honourable  place  among 
the  numerous  works  of  its  own  class  for  which  we  are  indebted 
to  Christian  scholars. 

The  contents  of  this  work  comprise  Notes  and  Dissertations, — 

1.  On  the  Canonical  authority  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. — 

2.  On  the  pre-existence  of  Jesus  Christ  before  John  the  Baptist. 
— 3.  On  Christ,  the  Redeemer — the  Living  One — in  the  time  of 
Job. — 4.  On  the  existence  of  Christ  before  Abraham. — 5.  On 
the  existence  of  Christ  when  the  world  was  created. — 6.  On  the 
Eternal  pre-existence  of  Christ. — 7-  On  Christ  pre-existent  in  the 
form  of  God,  and  on  an  equality  with  Him. — 8.  On  the  Chaldee 
Targums,  and  on  the  doctrine  of  their  authors  respecting  the 
Word  of  Jehovah. — 9.  On  the  Creation  of  all  things  by  the 
Word  or  Son  of  God. — 10  God  made  the  world  by  his  Son. — 
11.  On  the  testimony  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  that  the  Psalmist  ad- 
dresses the  Son  of  God,  as  the  Creator  of  the  Universe. — 12. 
The  Son  the  Image  of  the  Invisible  God,  the  First-bom  of  the 
whole  creation,  and  the  Creator  of  all  things  in  heaven  and  in 
earth. — 13.  On  the  preaching  of  Christ  to  the  Antediluvians. — 
14.  On  the  Angel  who  bore  the  name  and  displayed  the  attri- 
butes of  God. — 15.  On  the  Deity  of  the  Word. — 16.  On  the 
prophecies  of  Isaiah,  in  chap.  vii.  viii.  and  ix.  I — 6. — 17-  Christ 
the  Branch  is  Jehovah  our  Righteousness. — 18.  On  the  Various 
Readings  of  1  Tim.  iii.  16. — 19.  Additional  Observations  on  1 
Tim.  iii.  1 6. — 20.  Jesus  Christ  our  Great  God  and  Saviour. — 


Giimey'^8  Biblical  Dissertations.  168 

21.  Christ  who,  in  his  human  nature,  descended  from  the  Jews, 
is  **  over  all  God  blessed  for  ever/** — Conclusion.  On  the  prac^ 
tical  Importance  of  Faith  in  the  Deity  of  Christ. 

As  these  are  topics  which  have  successively  engaged  the  at- 
tention and  employed  the  labours  of  the  most  eminent  theological 
controvertists  and  Biblical  critics,  the  inquirer  will  scarcely  expect 
to  meet  in  this  vohime  with  information  or  reasonings  of  a  novel 
kind.  After  the  extensive  and  minute  researches  into  every 
branch  of  criticism,  and  the  unwearied  diligence  in  disposing  of 
the  results  of  their  collations  and  discoveries,  for  which  wc  owe 
so  much  gratitude  to  authors  of  reputation,  it  would  be  presump- 
tuous to  expect  from  a  modern  advocate  of  Christian  doctrines,  the 
gratification  which  is  to  be  derived  from  original  statements  and 
unusual  proofs.  Yet,  although  the  subjects  themselves,  and  the 
evidence  which  belongs  to  them,  are  familiar  to  us,  their  supreme 
importance  and  their  vital  interest  will  ever  prevent  their  being 
regarded  as  trite  and  common. 

The  first  of  these  Dissertations  is  ^  On  the  canonical  authority  of 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.'*  The  Epistle  is  anonymous ;  so 
are  the  epistles  ascribed  to  the  Apostle  John,  the  name  of  the 
author  not  being  prefixed  to  either  of  them.  In  this  respect,  the 
two  cases  are  similar ;  but  the  circumstances  in  which  they  other- 
wise differ  from  each  other,  are  numerous  and  important.  The 
anonymous  character  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  is  not  the 
circumstance  from  which  exclusively,  or  even  principally,  doubts 
of  its  being  entitled  to  canonical  authority,  have  arisen  ;  since  we 
find  the  authority  of  anonymous  books  admitted  from  the  begin- 
ning ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  there  have  been  many  who  have 
denied  the  claim  of  books  bearing  their  author^s  names  to  a  place 
among  the  canonical  Scriptures.  Mr.  Gurney  is  unquestionably 
correct  in  stating  that,  if  there  are  sufficient  reasons  to  convince 
OS  that  Paul  was  the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  we 
must  of  course  rest  satisfied  of  its  canonical  authority.  But 
we  cannot  say  that  we  find  in  his  arguments  any  better  elu- 
cidation of  the  question,  or  any  nearer  approximation  to  a  determi- 
nation of  it,  than  in  the  statements  and  reasonings  of  his  prede- 
cessors, while  he  has  not  noticed  in  his  Dissertation  some  of  the 
strongest  objections  which  lie  in  the  way  of  his  conclusion.  In 
the  first  of  the  proofs  by  which  Mr.  Gurney  supports  the  hyix)- 
thesis  of  the  Pauline  origin  of  the  epistle,  we  arc  unable  to  per- 
ceive any  cogency  or  closeness  of  connection.  Whatever  be  the 
subjects  to  which  the  Apostle  Peter  refers  in  his  second  epistle, 
as  being  included  in  the  communication  which  the  persons  to 
whom  it  was  sent  had  received  from  the  Apostle  Paul,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  they  were  not  peculiar  to  it,  because  they  were  to  be 
found  in  all  his  epistles: — ^^  Even  as  our  beloved  brother  Paul 
also,  according  to  the  wisdom  given  unto  him,  hath  written  unto 

T  2 


164  Gurney^s  Biblical  Di99ertiUinn$* 

you,  M  also  in  all  his  epistles^  speaking  in  them  of  these 
things.^  This  passage  does  not,  we  think,  ascribe  a  superior 
degree  of  wisdom  in  reference  to  one  epistle  more  than  to 
another,  though  this  is  assumed,  and  is  said  to  apply  with  pe- 
culiar force  to  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  The  Apostle  Peter 
addresses  his  epistles  to  the  *'  elect  strangers  of  the  dispersion 
in  Pontus,  Galatia,  Cappadocia,  Asia,  and  Bitfajmia.**^  But,  if 
the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews  was  written  to  the  Jewish  Christians 
of  Palestine,  as  Mr.  Gurney  supposes,  we  do  not  perceire  how  it 
can  be  said  to  be  written  to  persons  in  any  of  the  countries  enu- 
merated in  Peter''s  dedication  of  his  epistles.  We  might,  with 
more  appearance  of  probability,  fix  upon  the  Epistle  to  the  Gala- 
tians,  or  that  to  the  Ephesians,  as  the  one  intended ;  since  in 
these,  it  cannot  be  denied,  there  are  *^  some  things  hard  to  be 
understood.^ 

From  the  expression,  "  they  of  Italy  salute  you,**  Mr.  Gurney 
infers,  as  others  had  done  before  him,  that  the  writer  of  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  was  in  Italy  at  the  time  of  his  writing  it; 
and  that  the  epistle  was  written  from  Rome ;  but  the  wor&  oi 
airo  rriq  ^Irar^ia^^  would  rather  seem  to  indicate  that  the  writer  was 
not  in  Italy,  but  out  of  it,  accompanied  by  some  persons  who  be- 
longed to  that  country.  Nothing  is  determined  by  such  an  ex- 
pression as  to  the  place  from  which  the  epistle  was  sent ;  nor 
does  the  connection  in  which  we  find  it,  assist  us  to  any  probable 
conjecture  on  the  subject. 

The  evidence  of  ecclesiastical  tradition  on  the  Pauline  origin 
of  the  epistle  is  much  less  satisfactory  than  the  statement,  Mat 
the  Greek  and  Eastern  fathers  are  unanimous  in  ascribing  the 
epistle  to  Paul,  would  lead  the  reader  to  conclude.  It  is  evident, 
from  Origen'*s  accounts,  that  doubts  were  entertained,  even  in  the 
East,  about  its  authorship ;  and  the  manner  in  which  some  of  the 
earliest  of  the  Greek  fathers,  including  Origen  himself,  have  de- 
livered their  sentiments  on  the  point,  ill  accord  with  the  explicit- 
ness  of  a  direct  testimony  or  an  unhesitating  opinion. 

On  the  internal  evidence,  much  has  been  written ;  and  Mr. 
Gurney  follows  his  predecessors,  in  collecting  examples  of  co-in- 
cident sentiments  and  verbal  agreements  from  the  acknowledged 
epistles  of  Paul  and  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  with  the  view  of 
deducing  from  the  comparison,  the  proofs  of  a  common  origin. 
Many  of  these  examples  have  but  little  relevance  to  the  question. 
For  instance :  in  Heb.  i.  3,  4.,  it  is  said,  that  the  Son  of  God, 
^'  when  he  had  by  himself  purged  our  sins,  sat  down  on  the  right 
hand  of  the  majesty  on  high  ;  being  made  so  much  better  than  the 
angels,  as  he  hath  by  inheritance  obtained  a  more  excellent  name 
than  they.**'  'This,  it  is  remarked  (p.  16),  Ms  precisely  the  doc- 
*  trine  of  Paul ;  who  declares  that  God  raised  Jesus  '^  from  the 
^  dead,  and  set  him  at  his  own  right  hand  in  the  heavenly  places. 


Ourney^s  Biblical  Dissertations.  165 

^  finr  above  every  name  that  is  named,  not  only  in  this  world,  but 

*  also  in  that  which  is  to  come.^  ^  But  is  not  this  also  the  doc* 
trine  of  Peter  ? — **  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  gone  into  heaven,  and  is 
on  the  right  hand  of  God ;  angels  and  authorities  and  powers 
being  made  subject  unto  him.*"  1  Epis.  iii.  21,  22.  We  cannot 
be  surprised  that,  in  writing  on  subjects  alike  common  and  inter« 
eating  to  them,  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament  should  dis- 
cover, to  a  considerable  extent,  an  agreement  in  the  sentiments 
and  expressions  respectively  employed  by  them  ;  especially  when 
we  remember  the  original  sources  of  their  instructions,  and  the 
peculiarities  of  their  characters  and  associations.  We  might  ob- 
tain presumptions,  similar  to  those  which  Mr.  Gurney  urges, 
firom  a  comparison  of  other  books ;  and  if  the  epistles  of  Peter 
were  anonymous,  might  allege,  from  the  coincidences,  or  the  re- 
semblances, that  we  detect  in  collating  them  with  the  epistles  of 
Paul,  that  they  are  the  productions  of  the  same  author.  But  so 
long  as  the  complexion  of  the  books  should  be  found  different, 
and  their  styles  severally  unlike  each  other,  we  should  not  be 
prepared  to  affirm  an  identity  of  authorship  in  respect  to  them. 

In  order  that  we  may  shew  the  bearings  of  this  assumed 
ground  on  which  Mr.  Gurney  rests  his  deductions,  we  shall  com- 
pare the  epistles  of  Peter  with  those  of  Paul ;  adducing,  as  we 
proceed,  the  parallel  cases  from  the  Dissertation  before  us. 

*  Heb.  X.  38,  "  The  just  shall  live  by  faith.''  '  The  words  are 
'  a  quotation  from  the  Old  Testament,  but  they  are  cited  and 

*  applied  elsewhere  only  by  Paul.**  But,  if  this  be  regarded  as  a 
proof  presumptive,  it  might  be  shewn  that  Peter's  first  epistle 
was  written  by  Paul,  since  we  find  in  chap.  ii.  6,  a  passage 
firom  Isaiah  xxviii.  16,  which  is  cited,  and  applied  elsewhere 
only  by  Paul.     Vid.  Rom.  ix.  33.  x.  11.     *  In  Heb.  iv.  13,  14, 

*  the  first  principles  of  religion  are  figuratively  represented  as 
'  milk,  and  the  more  recondite  doctrines  of  Christianity  as  strong 

*  meat:  the  same  remarkable  figures  are  adopted  by  Paul,  in 

*  1  Cor.  iii.  2.'  But  the  word  ydxa^  milk^  is  the  only  one  which 
is  common  to  both  passages ;  and  the  Hgure  thus  employed  is 
also  used  by  the  Apostle  Peter,  1  Epis.  ii.  2.  The  words, 
^^  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,'" 
1  Pet.  i.  3,  are  found  in  2  Cor.  i.  3,  and  no  where  else  in  the 
New  Testament.  "  At  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ,"  is  a 
form  of  expression  we  find  in  1  Pet.  i.  7>  13 ;  but  it  occurs  in  the 
writings  of  Paul,  1  Cor.  i.  7>  2  Thess.  i.  7»  "  Who  believe  in  God 
that  raised  him  up  from  the  dead,  tov  kytl^avra  aurov  ek  vex^av^"^ 
is  used  by  Peter,  1  Epis.  i.  21 ,  and,  besides,  only  by  Paul,  who 
firequently  employs  it,  Rom.  iv.  24,  2  Cor.  iv.  14,  Gal.  i.  1, 
Coioss.  ii.  12.  "  Wives  be  obedient  to  your  own  husbands,"  1  Pet. 
iii.  1,  is  also  read  in  Paul's  epistles,  Eph.  v.  22,  Coioss.  iii.  18. 
In  1  Pet.  iii.  3,  we  have  directions  given  respecting  the  dress  of 


166  Gurney'8  Biblical  IH9S0rimiht^. 

women,  as  we  have  also  in  1  Tim.  ii.  9.  The  pecept  delivered 
by  Peter,  1  Epis.  iii.  9,  Mi  aToJiJevrif  mcucw  avrt  MaXov^  is 
contained  in  Rom.  xii.  17,  1  Thess.  v.  15.  **  —  ready  to  judge 
the  quick  and  the  dead,^  are  expressions  peculiar  to  Peter,  1 
Epis.  iv.  5,  and  Paul,  2  Tim.  iv.  1.  "  —  partakers  of  Christ's 
sufferings,^  is  another  instance,  y.  13,  and  2  Cor.  i.  5,  7*  The 
coincidence  of  expression  in  the  charge  of  Peter,  1  Epis.  ▼•  1,2, 
and  in  PauPs  address  to  the  elders  at  Miletus,  Acts  xx.  28,  29^ 
is  much  more  close  and  striking  than  in  some  of  Mr.  Gumey^i 
examples.  Nii^u  and  yfnyo^ea — these  verbs  are  used  in  conjunc- 
tion, 1  Pet.  V.  8,  and  1  Thess.  v.  6,  but  only  in  those  passages. 
0c/ii£Xio»,  applied  to  Christians,  occurs  only  in  1  Pet.  ▼.  10,  and 
Ephes.  iii.  17)  Coloss.  i.  23.  ^^  The  day  of  the  Lord  will  come 
as  a  thief  in  the  night,^  is  found  only  in  2  Pet.  iiL  10,  and  1 
Thess.  v.  2.  AVith  these  examples,  then,  before  us,  and  sup- 
posing the  epistles  of  Peter  to  be  without  the  name  of  the  writer, 
might  we  not  adopt  the  words  with  which  Mr.  Gumey  concludes 
his  collation  of  passages,  and  say  ?— ^  On  a  close  inspection,  then, 
^  it  appears,  that  the  points  of  resemblance  between  the  Greek 
^  style  of  our  anonymous  author  and  of  Paul  are  numerous  and 
^  highly  characteristic.'*  We  should  then  ascribe  the  epistles  of 
Peter  to  the  pen  of  Paul,  exactly,  and  on  the  same  grounds  as 
j\Ir.  G.  attributes  to  him  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 

But  some  of  Mr.  Gurney'*s  examples  are  of  more  than  question- 
able propriety  ;  as  when  be  remarks,  (p.  22,)  that  'Ila^'^Wa,  t6 
denote  boldness  in  approaching  God,  is  peculiar  to  Paul  and  this 
epistle.  Hcb.  x.  19.  ^^  Having  therefore,  brethren,  boldness 
{Trappujiav)  to  enter  into  the  holiest,  &c.*"  **  In  whom  we  have 
boldness  {7rappn(rUv)  and  access  with  confidence.*" — Eph.  iii.  12.' 
In  each  of  these  passages,  there  arc  additional  words,  which  give 
the  sense  of  access.  In  the  former,  we  have  vappntriav  sig  rh 
sicroSov ;  and  in  the  latter,  tJv  irappnclay  kcu  t^v  Tr^offayoynv,  In 
the  first  epistle  of  John,  the  word  is  used  precisely  as  in  Hcb.  x. 
19,  and  E])hes.  iii.  12.  "  Beloveil,  if  our  heart  condemn  us  not, 
then  have  we  confidence  (prafpmtJiax)  toward  God,  and  whatsoever 
we  ask  we  receive  of  him."' — 1  Epis.  iii.  21.  "  And  this  is  the 
confidence  {TrappYialav)  that  we  have  in  him,  that,  if  we  ask  any 
thing  according  to  his  will,  he  hcarcth  us.*"  v.  14.  In  both 
these  pa^^^sages,  the  connexion  shews,  that  boldness  in  approach- 
ing God,  is  the  sense  in  which  the  word  is  used. 

But  after  all  the  array  of  examples  of  similar  or  identical 
usage,  and  the  comparisons  adduced,  the  difference  of  style  is 
admitted  by  Mr.  Gumey ;  and  he  endeavours  to  remove  the  dif- 
ficulty which  this  marked  diversity  in  the  composition  of  the 
epistle  opposes  to  the  assumption  that  Paul  was  its  author,  by  as- 
signing, as  the  cause  of  the  superiority  of  its  style,  the  severer 
attention  of  the  writer.     ^  The  Greek  style  of  this  epistle  be- 


Gurney^s  Bihlioal  Disierlations.  167 

^  came  more  polished  than  that  in  which  the  Apostle  usually 

*  wrote,  for  the  simple  reason,  that  it  was  more  attended  to — 

*  more  studied.^  We  do  more  than  hesitate  to  admit  the  ground 
on  which  this  solution  is  offered.  The  character  of  a  writer^s 
style  will  not  be  essentially  affected  by  his  most  elaborate  atten- 
tion to  his  subject.  The  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  is  not  more  stu- 
died than  Paurs  Epistle  to  the  Romans ;  but  the  difference  of 
style  between  these  epistles,  is  not  less  remarkable  than  in  any 
other  instance  which  might  be  adduced.  It  is  surprising  that 
Mr»  Gurney  should  not  have  taken  the  least  notice  of  the  objec- 
tion to  his  hypothesis,  founded  upon  Heb.  ii.  3. ;  which,  in  the 
opinion  of  some  of  the  soundest  critics,  is  alone  decisive  of  the 
question.  But  on  this  point,  and  on  the  whole  subject,  wc  refer 
our  readers  to  a  former  article.  Eclec.  R.  May  1830,  pp.  399,  &c. 

The  Eighth  of  these  Dissertations  is  '  On  the  Chaldee  Tar- 

*  gums,  and  on  the  doctrine  of  their  authors  respecting  the  word 

*  of  Jehovah.^  Of  the  Targums,  or  Paraphrases  of  the  Old 
Testament  in  the  Chaldee  language,  the  most  valuable  are,  that 
of  Onkelos  on  the  Pentateuch,  and  that  of  Jonathan  Ben  Usziel 
on  the  Prophets,  which  are  probably  nearly  of  the  same  age.  We 
have  no  means  which  can  materially  assist  us  in  endeavouring  to 
obtain  a  satisfactory  determination  of  the  period  to  which  the 
date  of  their  origin  should  be  assigned,  but  they  are  generally 
considered  as  having  been  written  about  the  commencement  of 
the  Christian  era.  Perhaps  they  are  of  later  date.  From  some 
peculiarities  of  diction  frequently  occurring  in  these  ancient 
works,  they  have  been  adduced  by  many  controversial  writers  as 
exhibiting  important  testimony  to  prove  the  belief  of  the  Jews, 
in  very  remote  times,  in  the  pre-cxistence  and  distinct  personality 
of  the  Messiah.  Mr.  Gurney  is  to  be  classed  with  those  writers 
who  have  deemed  this  species  of  evidence  available  in  support  of 
the  doctrine  of  the  divinity  of  Our  Lord,  and  who  have  assigned 
it  an  important  place  in  that  connexion.  For  ourselves,  we  must 
confess  that  we  are  not  prepared  to  admit  the  Targums  to  the 
honour  which  is  claimed  for  them  as  unexceptionable  witnesses  to 
the  points  for  which  their  testimony  is  produced.  We  do  not 
perceive,  on  an  examination  of  their  evidence,  that  the  readings 
of  the  Hebrew  text  are  so  elucidated  as  to  receive  another  sense 
than  that  which  a  reader  would  ascribe  to  them,  who  had  no  means 
of  using  these  auxiliaries  in  his  endeavours  to  understand  the 
meaning  of  the  Old  Testament.  The  manner,  too,  in  which  the 
Targums  are  employed  by  some  Christian  writers,  cannot  be  de- 
scribed otherwise  than  as  incautious  and  partial :  their  citations 
are  frequently  faulty  and  defective,  and  not  calculated  to  lead  an 
inquirer  into  a  knowledge  of  the  true  bearings  of  the  several 
terms  and  usages  which  are  found  in  this  secondary  class  of  an- 
cient Jewish  aiuthors.     A  more  minute  and  extensive  examination 


168  Gurney^s  Biblical  Dissertations* 

of  the  whole  evidence  to  be  obtained  from  them,  would  be  neces- 
sary to  determine  the  merits  of  the  question  under  discussion. 
We  shall,  however,  just  glance  at  the  examples  which  Mr.  Gur- 
ney  has  produced,  and  try  the  soundness  of  the  inferences  and 
conclusions  which  he  is  endeavouring  to  establish  on  their  autho- 
rity. 

The  Hebrews,  it  is  well  known,  regarded  with  a  reverencfe 
which  degenerated  into  superstition,  the  name  Jehovah,  appro- 
priated to  the  Divine  Being ;  for  which  they  substituted  other 
names,  as  Elohim,  Adonai,  or  terms  of  abbreviation.  In  the 
Targums,  the  terms,  JaA,  and  Word  ofJah^  are  used  in  the  same 
manner.  To  the  latter  expression,  in  some  examples  of  its  use, 
a  sense  has  been  ascribed,  implying,  in  the  subject  thus  designated, 
distinct  personal  divinity.  Several  such  examples  are  brought 
under  our  notice  by  the  Author.  As  the  following  is  one  of  the 
most  important  of  the  passages  which  he  has  selected,  in  illus- 
tration of  the  doctrine  which  he  supposes  to  be  thus  conveyed  by 
the  language  of  the  Chaldee  Paraphrasts,  we  shall  endeavour  to 
ascertain  its  real  import.  This  is  the  more  desirable,  as  not  a  few 
writers,  some  of  them  of  high  respectability,  have  been  very  posi- 
tive in  asserting  the  authority  of  the  Targums.  Mr.  Gumey 
refers  to  them,  as  maintaining  a  doctrine  coincident  with  that  of 
the  Apostle  John  in  the  beginning  of  his  gospel,  and  as  assisting 
us  to  determine  the  import  of  the  principal  expressions  employea 
by  the  Apostle  in  his  description  of  his  great  subject.  If  the 
Targumists  speak  of  the  Word  of  Jah  as  a  person  distinct  from 
Jehovah,  their  evidence  is  of  the  greatest  moment ;  but  the  fol- 
lowing passage  contains  no  proof,  nor  even  a  presumption,  that 
they  entertained  such  a  doctrine. 

'  On  some  occasions,  the  Word  of  Jah  appears  to  be  described  by 
the  Targumists  as  the  person  through  whom  Jah,  or  Jehovah,  effects 
the  redemption  and  salvation  of  his  people.  Isaiah  xlv.  1&-— 25,  is 
paraphrased  by  Jonathan  in  the  following  striking  language: — **  These 
things  saith  Jah,  who  created  the  heavens :  Grod  himself  who  founded 
the  earth  and  made  it,  &c.  Look  unto  my  Word,  and  be  ye  saved^  all 
ye  who  arc  in  the  ends  of  the  earth :  by  my  Word  I  have  sworn :  the 
decree  is  gone  forth  from  me  in  righteousness,  and  shall  not  be  in  vain : 
because,  before  me  every  knee  shall  bow  and  every  tongue  swear.  How- 
beit,  he  (God)  said  to  me  (the  prophet),  that  by  the  Word  of  Jah  he 
would  bring  righteousness  and  strength.  By  his  Word  shall  be  con- 
founded and  brought  to  confusion  with  their  idols,  all  the  nations  who 
attacked  his  people.  In  the  Word  of  Jah  shall  all  the  seed  of  Israel 
be  justified  and  shall  glory."  This  passage  of  the  Targum  appears 
plainly  to  import,  that  God,  even  the  Father,  originate^  the  redemption 
of  his  |)eople ;  and  that  the  Word  of  Jah  is  a  divine  Person,  to  whom 
he  commands  all  men  to  look  for  their  salvation,  because  it  is  through 
him  that  he  promises  to  effect  the  great  deliverance.'    p.  137- 


C[urney'*8  Biblical  Dissertations.  109 

'  Before  we  proceed  to  notice  the  passages  thus  produced  by 
Mr.  Gumey  as  vouchers  for  the  doctrine  of  a  distinct  personal 
subsistence  of  the  Word,  we  must  take  the  liberty  of  giving  from 
the  Targum  of  Jonathan,  the  necessary  quotation,  without  the 
partial  arrangement  and  omissions  which  appear  in  the  foregoing 
extract.     *  Verse  18.  These  things,  saith  Jah,  who  created  the 

*  heavens :  God  himself  who  founded  the  earth  and  made  it — I  am 
"*  Jah,  and  there  is  no  other.     21.  Jah, — a  just  God,  and  a  Sa- 

*  viour,  there  is  none  beside  me.    22    Look  unto  my  word  and  be 

*  ye  saved,  all  ye  who  are  in  the  ends  of  the  earth,  for  I  am  God 

*  and  there  is  no  other.     23.  By  my  word  have  I  sworn,  the  de- 

*  claration  is  gone  forth  from  before  me  in  righteousness,  and 
^  shall  not  be  in  vain,  That  before  me  every  knee  shall  bow, 

*  every  tongue  confess.     24.  Surely  by  the  word  of  Jah  he  said 

*  upon  me  he  would  bring  righteousness  and  strength,  by  his 

*  word  they  shall  praise,  and  all  the  nations,  with  their  idols,  who 

*  were  the  enemies  of  his  people,  shall  be  confounded.     25.  In 

*  the  word  of  Jah  shall  all  the  seed  of  Israel  be  justified  and 

*  shall  glory.**  Throughout  the  whole  of  this  quotation,  there  is 
only  one  principal  subject :  the  undivided  supremacy  of  Jehovah 
is  asserted.  No  reader  can  mistake  the  import  of  the  verses  in 
the  original,  or  in  any  version  of  them.  The  doctrine  delivered 
lyy  Mr.  Gumey  in  the  former  part  of  the  concluding  sentence  of 
the  foregoing  extract,  is  not  to  be  questioned ;  but  the  Targumist 
Jonathan  does  not  declare  it,  nor  do  his  words  import  it.  We 
can  neither  perceive  in  this  passage  any  evidence  to  sustain  the 
notion,  attributed  to  it  by  Mr.  Gumey,  of  a  personal  existence 
in  the  word  apart  from  the  being  of  the  infinitely  glorious 
£temal  One ;  nor  recognize  any  such  difference  in  the  language 
of  the  Targumist  here,  compared  with  other  and  numerous  speci- 
mens of  his  diction  which  might  be  given,  as  would  lead  us  to 
regard  his  paraphrase  as  in  this  instance  remarkably  striking. 
In  the  expression,  word  of  Jah^  throughout  the  whole  of  the 
preceding  verses,  no  other  usage,  we  think,  is  to  be  discovered, 
than  that  which  is  so  common  in  the  Targums,  of  substituting  a 
periphrasis  for  the  ineffable  Divine  name.  Mr.  Gumey  has,  by 
the  emphatics  of  the  press,  made  a  distinction  which  is  not  war- 
ranted m  the  phrase,  and  which  we  have  been  careful  to  exhibit 
throughout  in  a  uniform  manner. 

In  the  23d  verse  occur  these  words :  *  By  my  word  I  have 

*  sworn  (no'03),*' — the  expression  used  in  all  the  other  passages. 
Now,  as  it  will  be  easy  to  prove  that  the  expression  cannot  in 
this  instance  be  applied  to  a  personal  existence,  in  the  sense  as- 
sumed by  Mr.  Gurney,  we  shall  find  no  difficulty  in  reading  the 
passage  as  we  find  it  in  the  Chaldee  paraphrase,  precisely  in  the 
same  sense  and  application  as  we  read  it  in  the  Hebrew  text. 
**  Men  verily  swear  by  the  greater.*^ — "  When  God  made  prof- 

VOL.  IX. — K.s.  u 


lyo  Gurney's  Biblical  Dis^eriatioHg* 

mise  to  Abraham,  because  He  could  swear  by  no  gremter,  he 
Bware  by  himself.^ — ^Ileb.  ^i.  13.  The  instances  are  not  few  in 
the  Bible,  in  which  the  Divine  Being  is  represented  as  with  so- 
lemnity giving  forth  an  oath. — Jerem.  xxi.  5.  *  By  myself  I  have 

*  sworn,"  is,  in  the  Targum  of  Jonathan, '  By  my  word  (nons) 

*  have  I  sworn.**    As,  then,  in  the  instance,  '  By  mj  word,  I 

*  have  sworn,**  is  exclusive  of  a  second  person,  and  is  anodier 
formulary  for  *  By  myself,^  and  cannot  be  rendered  in  any  other 
sense  or  relation ;  so  we  must  conclude  that  the  Taigumist,  in  the 
words,  ^  Look  unto  my  word,^  '  In  the  word  of  Jah,  &c.\  in- 
tended no  other  sense  than  that  which  the  Hebrew  text  before 
him  conveyed,  ^  Look  unto  me** — ^  In  the  Lord  shall  all  the 

*  seed  of  Israel  be  justified.'*  Why  should  the  phrase  in  Terses 
22,  24,  25,  be  understood  in  a  different  sense  from  that  which  it 
bears  in  verse  23  ?  There  seems  no  ground  whatever  for  assum- 
ing another  application  of  the  phrase  in  those  verses,  than  that 
which  is  clearly  apparent  in  the  other  instance.  The  introduc- 
tion of  a  second  person  is  altogether  unauthorised ;  and  nothing 
can  be  inferred  from  the  language  of  the  Targum,  which  is  not 
intended  and  directly  conveyed  by  the  original  expressions  in 
the  prophet.  Mr.  Gumcy  quotes  other  passages ;  but  those 
to  which  he  attaches  most  importance,  are  equally  insufficient  to 
support  the  doctrine  which  he  imagines  they  contain* 

'  The  18th  and  19th  chapters  of  Genesis  describe  an  actual  appear- 
ance of  Jeliovah,  who  came  down  to  converse  with  Abraham,  and  to 
destroy  Sodom.  This  present  Deily  is  in  the  same  Taigum  (the  Jeru- 
salem) denominated  ''  the  Word  of  Jah  " ;  and  Gen.  xix.  24,  in  which 
verse  wc  read  that  "  Jehovah  rained  upon  Sodom  and  Gomorrah, 
brimstone  and  fire  from  Jehovah  out  of  heaven/'  is  there  paraphrased 
in  the  following  explicit  manner :  '^  And  the  Word  of  Jah  sent  down 

upon  them  sulphur  and  fire  ffV   D^[^    \^\  from  the  presence  of  ./oA 

out  of  heaven." '  p.  136. 

We  must  repeat  the  remark,  that  Mr.  Gumey  has  imposed 
upon  the  expressions,  by  his  mode  of  displaying  the  words  in 
question,  a  sense  which  they  do  not  in  themselves  convey.  We 
perceive  nothing  explicit  in  the  paraphrase,  nothing  which  is  not 
m  Q^Lact  agreement  with  the  Hebrew  text.  But  if  Mr.  Gumey 
considers  this  as  an  explicit  passage,  what  will  he  say  to  the  same 
passage  as  it  appears  in  the  Targum  of  Jonathan? — ^  And  the 
word  of  Jah  sent  down  the  rains  of  his  goodness  upon  Sodom 
^  and  upon  Gomorrah,  that  they  might  repent ;  but  they  repented 
'  not,  but  said.  Our  evil  deeds  are  not  manifest  before  Jah  :  then 

*  were  sent  down  upon  them  sulphur  and  fire  from  the  presence 
'  of  the  word  of  Jah  out  of  heaven  ?  ^    In  the  Jerusalem  Targum, 

*  the  word  of  Jah'  corresponds  to  the  name  Jehovah  in  the  first 
member  of  the  verse ;  as  does  the  phrase,  *  from  the  presence  of 


Gurney^s  Biblical  Dissertatioru,  I7I 

*  Jalhj  in  the  second,  answer  to  ^  from  Jehovah  ^  in  the  conclusion 
€if  the  verse.  In  the  Targum  of  Jonathan,  ^  the  word  of  Jah  ^  is 
used  in  both  instances,  as  a  periphrasis  for  the  original  expres- 
sion. No  second  person  is  indicated  by  the  use  of  such  terms. 
In  the  second  Psalm,  vs.  4,  we  have,  "  He  who  sits  in  heaven 
^*  shall  laugh,  the  word  of  Jah  shall  have  them  in  derision.*"^  The 
subject  of  the  predications  is  but  one.  Ps.  cxviii.  8,  9*  ^^  It  is 
^  better  to  trust  in  the  Lord,  than  to  put  confidence  in  man.  It 
^'  is  better  to  trust  in  the  Lord,  than  to  put  confidence  in 
**  princes-''  In  the  Targum  we  have,  in  both  clauses,  *  to  trust  in 
*'  the  word  of  Jah."  We  are  surprised  at  the  facility  with  which 
Mr.  Gumey,  following  some  other  writers,  who,  whatever  be  the 
qualities  which  we  may  approve  in  them,  are  not  to  be  described 
as  jttdidous  critics,  admits  such  conclusions  as  abound  in  this 
DiMerlation. 

'  In  Gen.  xx.  S,  we  read,  that  "  God  came  to  Abimclech  in  a  dream, 
and  said  to  him",  &c.  Onkelos  has  here  distinguished  the  divine 
Person  who  came  to  Abimelech,  from  God  who  sent  him.     His  para- 

5 h rase  is  as  follows :  "  And  the  Word  from  the  presence  qf  Jah  (or 
ehovah)  came   to  Abimelech  in  a  dream  by  night,  and  said  to  him," 
Ac.'  pp.  136—7. 

The  whole  of  the  expressions  marked  by  italics  in  this  extract, 
are  simply  a  periphrasis  for  the  name  of  the  Divine  Being :  this 
sufficiently  appears  from  the  next  verse,  in  which  we  find  Abi- 
melech invoking  the  name  of  Jah  as  the  person  appearing  to  him. 
The  same  expressions  are  of  frequent  occurrence  in  the  Targum- 
ists,  and  imply  nothing  of  distinction  or  of  mission.  So,  in 
Gen.  xxxi.  24,  ^^  God  came  to  Laban  the  Syrian,  in  a  dream  by 
night'",  is,  in  Onkelos,  *  And  the  word  from  the  presence  of  Jah, 

*  came  to  Laban  the  Syrian  in  a  dream  by  night.^  Laban,  re- 
ferring to  this  appearance,  v.  29,  describes  it  by  the  words,  ^  the 
'  God  of  your  father.**  In  Num.  xxii.  9,  we  have  in  Onkelos  the 
same  phrase :  *'  And  the  word  from  the  presence  of  Jah  came  to 
'  Balaam,  and  said.  Who  are  these  men  who  are  with  thee  ? '  fol- 
lowed by  V.  10,  ^  And  Balaam  said  before  Jah."* 

In  Gen.  xxxi.  13,  the  angel  of  Jehovah  proclaims  himself  to 
be  the  God  to  whom  Jacob  vowed  his  vow  at  Bethel.  *  Now  \ 
says  Mr.  Gumey,  *  according  to  Onkelos,  it  was  to  the  Word  of 

*  Jah  that  the  vow  of  Jacob  was  addressed.    '*  And  Jacob  vowed 

*  a  vow,  saving,  if  the  Word  of  Jah  will  be  my  help,  and  will 
^  keep  me  m  this  way  in  which  I  am  going,  &c.,  then  shall  the 

*  Ward  of  Jah  be  my  God.'"''*  But  the  passage  in  Onkelos 
expresses  nothing  more  than  is  contained  in  the  Hebrew  text. 
In  the   Targum   of  Jonathan,   the  whole   appears   as  follows. 


•  Gen.  xxviii.  20. 

u  2 


172  Gumey's  Biblical  DiMeriaiUmM. 

Gen.  xxviii.  13,  *  I  am  Jah,  the  God  of  thy  ikther  Abraham, 
^  and  the  God  of  Isaac. — 15,  And  behold  my  word  shall  be  thy 

*  help. — 20,  And  Jacob  vowed  a  vow,  saying.  If  the  word  of  Jan 

*  will  be  my  help,  and  will  keep  me — in  this  way  in  which  I  am 

*  going,— then  shall  Jah  be  my  God.**  The  expressions  are  inters 
changeable,  and  refer  to  the  same  subject.    So,  in  Gen.  xlix.  9, — 

*  IMy  sons  whom  the  word  of  Jah  gave  to  roe  \  as  we  read  in  the 
Targiim  of  Jonathan,  is,  in  Onkelos,  ^  whom  Jah  has  given  me.^ 
Had  the  Targumists  used  the  expressions  in  the  manner  repre- 
sented by  the  Author,  there  are  passages  in  which  they  would 
have  em])loycd  them,  but  in  which  we  find  a  different  usage.  In 
Gen.  i.  ^6,  the  Targum  of  Jonathan  reads :  *'  And  Jah  said  to 

*  his  angels,  who  ministered  before  him,  who  were  created  on  the 

*  second  day,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image.**  If,  in  such  a 
passage,  we  had  read,  'And  Jah  said  to  his  Word**,  Mr.  Gumey'*8 
notions  might  seem  not  to  have  wanted  support. 

We  cannot  then,  subscribe  to  the  notion  that,  in  the  language, 
of  the  Tar;iiimist??,  there  is  any  thing  corresponding  to  the  ex- 
pressions used  by  the  Evangelist  John  in  the  Introduction  to  his 
Gospel,  or  that  they  supply  any  conHrmation  of  his  doctrine  re- 
specting the  personality  and  deity  of  the  Son  of  God.  Whatever 
may  be  the  origin  of  the  term  iogon^  unquestionably  applied  by 
the  Apostle  to  Christ,  we  entirely  agree  with  Michaelis,  that  it 
was  not  derived  from  the  Targums,  since  they  never  intended  by 
the  e.x])ression,  word  of  Jah^  to  denote  a  Being  separate  and 
distinct  from  Jehovah  himself.  If  the  phrase  had  any  such 
meaning,  atid  were  so  abundantly  employed  by  the  Chaldee 
parajihrasts  in  the  sense  attributed  to  it  by  Mr.  Gumey,  it  is  im- 
possible to  suppose  that  it  would  be  neglected,  and  that  frequent 
references  to  it  should  not  be  made  by  the  Writers  of  the  New 
Testament,  and  by  our  Lord  himself.  In  all  his  conferences  with 
the  Jews,  and  in  the  whole  of  his  discourses,  there  is  no  instance 
of  his  appealing  to  them  as  possessed  of  traditionary  knowledge 
which  included  representations  of  himself  so  direct  and  formal. 

The  introduction  of  the  Apostle  John'^s  Gospel  is  one  of  the 
passages  in  the  New  Testament  which  necessarily  engages  the 
critical  attention  of  the  Author.  By  all  the  most  eminent  com- 
mentators of  ancient  and  modern  times,  the  verses  which  it 
includes,  have  been  regarded  as  conveying  in  very  decisive  terms 
the  doctrine  of  Our  Lord's  preexistent  divinity.  In  his  ninth 
Dissertation,  Mr.  Gurney  discusses  the  import  of  the  expressions 
in  the  third  verse :  "  All  things  were  made  by  him,  and  without 
him  was  not  any  thing  made  that  was  made.*"  We  are  sometimes 
told,  in  respect  to  particular  interpretations  of  biblical  terms,  that 
no  unprejudiced  inquirer  would  deduce  them  from  the  passages 
in  which  they  occur.  May  we  not  ask,  whether  any  unbiassed 
reader  could  ever  conclude  the  meaning  of  this  verse  to  be. 


Gurney^B  Biblical  Dissertations.  173 

*  All  things  in  the  Christian  dispensation  were  done  by  Christ, 

*  i.  e.  by  his  authority,  and  according  to  his  direction ;  and  in  the 

*  ministry  committed  to  his  apostles,  nothing  has  been  done 
^  without  his  warrant  ?**  This  is  the  explanation  given  by  the 
Editors  of  the  *  Improved  Version,'  who  render :  '  All   things 

*  were  done  by  him ;  and  without  him  was  not  any  thing  done 
'  that  hath  been  done.'  In  support  of  this  rendering,  we  are  re- 
ferred in  their  note,  to  John  xv.  4,  5,  where  we  are  certainly 
unable  to  find  any  confirmation  of  it.  "  Severed  from  me,  ye 
can  do  nothing,''  are  words  which  assuredly  bear  no  relation  to 
Christ's  warrant  or  authority  as  establishing  the  Christian  dis- 
pensation. They  occur  in  his  discourse  respecting  himself  as  the 
Tine,  and  his  disciples  as  the  branches,  and  are  entirely  practical, 
referring  to  the  faith  and  obedience  of  his  followers.  In  the  verse 
under  notice,  the  common  exposition  is  undoubtedly  the  true  one. 
In  Genesis  i.  3,  eyeveTo  ^^^,  in  the  Septuagint  version,  is  *  light 

*  was  produced,'  and  so  itavxa — gyfivero,  in  John  i.  3,  is  to  be  ex- 
plained of  the  origin  of  things.  In  Mr.  Gurney's  Dissertation, 
the  generally  received  reading  of  the  passage  is  vindicated,  but 
we  cannot,  in  every  instance,  entirely  approve  of  the  mode  by 
which  he  reaches  his  conclusion. 

*  The  title  Word,  which  is  here  applied  to  Our  Saviour,  carries  with 
it  an  especial  allusion  to  this  very  doctrine — that  by  him,  God  created 
all  things.  That  God  created  by  his  word,  is  a  truth  declared  in  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures ;  in  the  Apocrypha ;  and  as  appears  from  the  pre- 
ceding note,  in  the  Jewish  Targums.' 

The  passages  of  the  Bible,  to  which  IVIr.  Gumey  refers,  are. 
Gen.  i.  3 ;  Ps.  xxxiii,  6.  We  do  not  see  the  propriety  of  the  re- 
ference, in  connexion  with  the  subject  of  his  remarks.  No 
coincidence  or  agreement  of  expression  appears  between  the  term 
Word,  >^oyoi^  as  used  by  John,  and  the  phrase,  *  God  said,'  in 
Gen.  i.  3.     In  Psalm  xxxiii.  6,  ^'  By  the  word  of  the   Lord, 

*  T«  xoV«  roif  Ku^louj  were  the  heavens  made,  and  all  the  host  of 
'  them  by  the  breath  of  his  mouth,"  there  is  nothing  in  accordance 
with  the  term  used  by  the  Evangelist.  In  the  Apocryphal  book 
of  Wisdom  ix.  1,  the  passage  to  which  Mr.  Gurney's  reference 
directs  us,  we  have  o  'jrotria-a^  rd  Trdvra  h  T^oyco  aod^   *  who   hast 

*  made  all  things  by  thy  word.'  But  in  these  passages,  >.iyoi  does 
not  signify  person ;  nor,  as  the  term  is  used  by  the  Evangelist  to 
denote  a  personal  subsistence,  can  his  use  of  it  receive  any  illus- 
tration from  such  references  as  the  preceding.  There  is  more 
than  verbal  obscurity  in  such  a  sentence  as  the  following,  p.  153. 

*  From  Gen.  i.,  3,  6,  &c.,  we  find  that,  in  this  "  beginning,"  God 

*  repeatedly  expressed  his  will  and  spake  the  word ;  and  accord- 

*  ingly,  we  learn  from  John,  that  *•"  In  the  beginning,  was  the 

*  the  Wordy  and  the  Word  was  with  Godr  '    Speech  is  attributed 


174  Gurney'*8  Biblical  DissertatioM* 

to  the  Omnipotent  Creator,  more  humano,  as  commanding  the 
world,  and  the  things  successively  described  as  being  formed,  into 
existence, — 'He  spake,  and  it  was  done;^  but  John  cannot  be 
understood  as  alluding,  in  the  opening  of  his  gospel,  to  the 
creative  command,  the  almighty  Jiat, 

Mr.  Gumey'^s  criticisms  on  the  important  topics  of  his  Notes 
and  Illustrations,  are  copious  and  elaborate,  and  abundantly  shew 
that  there  is  no  penury  of  evidence  to  support  the  evangelical 
doctrines  which  he  so  ably  vindicates.  Our  strictures  on  the  ob- 
jectionable passages  which  we  have  noticed,  seemed  to  us  ne- 
cessary, in  order  to  relieve  a  solid  argument  from  the  unnecessaiy 
assumptions  with  which  he  has  encumbered  it.  The  length  to 
which  our  animadversions  have  extended,  forbid  our  adverting  to 
the  critical  reasonings  which  meet  our  approval.  From  the  con- 
clusion of  the  work,  which  is  entirely  practical,  and  conveys  in  a 
very  serious  and  impressive  manner,  the  thoughts  of  the  highly 
reqiectable  Author  on  the  importance  of  the  doctrine  maintained 
by  him,  we  extract  the  following  paragraphs* 

'  — A  belief  of  the  deity  of  Christ  is  not  only  inseparably  connected 
with  the  Christian's  experience,  but  is  essential  to  the  general  main" 
tenance  of  his  creed.  That  this  is  true,  however,  is  still  more  clearly 
proved  by  the  notorious  fact,  that  a  denial  of  that  doctrine  is  ever  ac- 
companied by  a  corresponding  degeneracy  of  religious  sentiment,  in 
relation  to  other  important  particulars  in  the  system  of  Christianity. 

'  Those  who  allow  that  God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh — that  the 
ONLY  BEGOTTEN  SON  was  clothcd  with  humanity,  and  died  on  the 
cross  to  save  us— are  naturally  impressed  with  the  malignity  of  sin  and 
with  the  weight  of  its  eternal  consequences,  which  cafled  for  suck  a 
surrender,  for  such  a  sacrifice.  But  to  the  unbeliever  in  the  deity  of 
the  Son  of  God,  sin  is  no  longer  a  mortal  offence  against  a  Beingof 
perfect  holiness.  It  assumes  the  softer  name  of  "  moral  evil."  The 
existence  of  it  is  ascribed  to  the  Creator  himself,  and  in  connection 
with  its  punishment,  it  is  even  regarded  as  forming  one  part  of  a  pro- 
vidential chain,  which  is  destined  to  terminate  in  the  happiness  of  the 
sinner.  Satan  is  transformed,  from  the  father  of  lies,  a  murderer  from 
the  beginning,  the  deceiver,  accuser,  and  destroyer  of  men — into  a 
harmless  metaphor — a  mere  figure  of  poetry.  Hell,  of  course,  is 
robbed  of  its  deepest  terrors,  and  is  treated  of,  not  as  a  place  of  eternal 
punishment,  but  as  one  of  temporary  and  corrective  suffering — a  pur- 
gatory provided  in  mercy,  rather  than  ordained  in  judgment. 

'  With  these  unscriptural  views  of  sin,  it  author,  its  origin,  and  its 
effects,  is  inseparably  connected  a  partial  and  inadequate  estimate  of 
the  hw  of  righteousness,  which  sinks  down  from  the  high  and  consistent 
level,  maintained  in  Scripture,  of  universal  godliness;  and  while  it 
still  borrows  something;  from  Christianity*  gradually  assumes  the  shape 
of  a  worldly,  though  plausible,  moral  philosophy. 

'  Since  man  is  no  longer  regarded  as  a  fallen  and  lost  creature,  prone 
to  iniquity,  and  corrupt  at  core,  but  as  a  being  essentially  virtuous,  it 
is  plain  that  he  can  no  longer  be  considered  as  standing  in  need  of  R#- 


Guraey'^B  Biblical  Diasertatians.  175 

demption.  That  word  may  indeed^  in  some  metaphorical  seose,  find 
its  way  into  the  creed  of  those  persons  who  rdect  the  deity  of  Jesus 
Christ.  But  the  doctrine  oi  pardon  through  jailh  in  his  blood  is  dis- 
missed as  unnecessary  and  absurd ;  unnecessary ,  because  wc  are  not 
under  the  curse  of  the  law;  absurd,  because  it  is  inconceivable  that  a 
mere  man«  ''  weak  and  peccable  like  ourselves  '*,  could  possibly  atone 
for  the  sins  of  the  world. 

*  In  like  manner,  the  doctrine  of  a  spiritual  influence,  freely  bestow- 
ed by  a  glorified  Saviour  for  our  conversion  and  sanctifi cation,  is  dis- 
carded as  untenable.  On  the  one  hand,  such  an  influence  is  no 
longer  required ;  on  the  othc^,  the  greatest  of  merely  human  prophets 
can  have  no  power  to  bestow  it.  Since,  indeed,  the  divine  character 
and  inward  operation  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  are  intimately  connected,  in 
the  system  of  revealed  truth,  with  the  deity  and  atonement  of  Christ, 
it  naturally  follows  that  the  latter  doctrines  cannot  be  forsaken,  without 
the  surrender  of  the  former.  In  point  of  fact,  they  usually  disappear 
at  the  same  time,  or  in  rapid  succession,  from  the  creed  of  the  sceptic. 

*  Lastly,  since  the  Bible  has  explicitly  declared  the  several  doctrines, 
to  which  we  have  alluded,  its  plain  declarations  (in  order  to  meet  these 
novel  views)  must  now  be  interpreted,  as  harsh,  unnatural  metaphors 
—as  strained,  oriental  figures.  Hence  its  authority  is  gradually 
weakened,  and  although  perhaps  it  is  still  allowed  to  contain  much 
true  history  and  some  divine  doctrine,  it  descends  from  its  lofty  station 
of  a  volume  truly  "  given  by  inspiration  of  God."  No  longer  are  its 
contents  food  for  daily,  pious  meditation;  no  longer  is  it  the  test  by 
the  simple  application  of  which,  all  questions  in  religion  must  be  tried 
and  determined.  On  the  whole,  revelation  is  marred,  and  religion  be- 
comes a  wreck.  Man  is  left  to  the  perilous  guidance  of  his  own  per- 
verted reason,  and  must  steer  his  course  through  the  ocean  of  life, 
without  the  true  rudder, 

*  It  may  perhaps  be  objected  that  the  degeneracy  of  religious  senti- 
ment, to  which  we  have  now  adverted,  attaches  cniefly  to  the  lowest 
grade  of  faith  in  relation  to  the  person  of  Christ ;  and  this  is  certainly 
true.  Nevertheless  it  is,  I  believe,  in  various  degrees,  the  inevitable 
accompaniment  of  every  system  which  does  not  include  the  doctrine 
of  his  deity ;  and  the  lower  we  fall  in  our  estimate  of  Him,  the  greater 
and  more  conspicuous  this  degenercay  becomes.  The  lines  which 
separate  the  different  classes  of  persons,  who  reject  the  deity  of  Christ, 
are  of  a  finite  breadth  and  easily  passable.  The  broad,  impassable  dis- 
tinction— ^the  infinite  difference  of  opinion — lies  between  those  who 
confess  their  Saviour  to  be  God,  and  all  who  regard  him  only  as  a 
creature.'    pp.  468 — 471 . 

The  volume  affords  abundant  marks  of  extensive  reading  and 
accomplished  scholarship ;  but  it  is  as  a  practical  and  devotional 
writer  that  Mr.  Gumey  will,  probably,  be  most  useful  and  most 
deservedly  honoured. 


(   17«   ) 


Art.  VI.  Principles  of  Church  Reform,  By  Thomas  Arnold,  D.D., 
Head  Master  of  Rugby  School,  and  late  Fellow  of  Oriel  College, 
Oxford.     8vo.     pp.  88.     London,  1833. 

T7R0M  a  crowd  of  publications  upon  this  fertile  topic,  of 
which  a  list  will  be  found  in  another  part  of  our  Number,  we 
have  selected  this  very  able  pamphlet, — ^not  with  the  intention  of 
making  it  the  text  of  any  lengthened  remarks,  but  for  the  simple 
purpose  of  strongly  recommending  it  to  the  attention  of  our 
readers.  We  do  not  mean  to  intimate  that  we  agree  with  Dr. 
Arnold  as  to  either  all  his  principles  or  his  scheme  of  compre- 
hension. We  greatly  fear  that  the  time  for  such  irenical  mea- 
sures is  gone  by,  and  that  the  temper  of  all  parties  would  be 
fiercely  opposed  to  the  very  mention  of  any  plan  of  the  kind. 
Upon  some  future  occasion,  we  may,  perhaps,  enter  the  lists  with 
the  present  Writer  respecting  those  points  upon  which  he  assails  the 
Dissenters.  We  are  nevertheless  so  much  delighted  to  meet 
with  an  antagonist  of  his  comprehensive  mind,  independent  and 
patriotic  views,  and  catholic  spirit,  that  we  cannot  withhold  our 
approbation  of  his  object  and  purpose,  although  we  may  deem 
his  plan  chimerical  and  his  principles  vulnerable.  The  following 
remarks,  we  are  confident,  must  gratify  our  readers. 

'  Whoever  is  acquainted  with  Christianity,  must  see  that  differences 
of  opinion  among  Christians  arc  absolutely  unavoidable.  First,  because 
our  religion  being  a  thing  of  the  deepest  personal  interest,  we  are 
keenly  alive  to  all  the  great  questions  connected  with  it,  which  was 
not  tlie  case  with  hcuthenisni.  Secondly,  these  questions  are  exceed- 
ingly numerous,  inasmuch  as  our  religion  affects  our  whole  moral  being, 
and  must  involve,  therefore,  a  great  variety  of  metaphysical,  moral, 
and  political  points ; — that  is  to  say^  those  very  points  which,  lying  out 
of  the  reach  of  demonstrative  science,  are,  through  the  constitution  of 
man*s  nature,  peculiarly  apt  to  be  regarded  by  different  minds  dif- 
ferently* And  thirdly,  although  all  Christians  allow  the  Scriptures 
to  be  of  decisive  authority,  whenever  their  judgement  is  pronounced 
on  anv  given  case,  yet  the  peculiar  form  of  these  Scriptures,  which  in 
the  ^ew  Testament  is  rather  that  of  a  commentary  than  of  a  text; — 
the  critical  difficulties  attending  their  interpretation,  and  the  still 
greater  difficulty  as  to  their  application  ; — it  being  a  constant  question 
whether  such  and  such  rules,  and  still  more  whether  such  and  such 
recorded  facts  or  practices,  were  meant  to  be  universally  binding  ;— 
and  it  being  a  farther  question,  amidst  the  infinite  variety  of  human 
affairs,  whether  anv  case,  differing  more  or  less  in  its  circumstances, 
properly  comes  under  the  scope  of  any  given  Scripture  rule ; — all  these 
things  prevent  the  Scriptures  from  being  in  practice  decisive  on  con- 
troverted points,  because  the  contending  parties,  while  alike  acknow- 
ledging the  judge's  authority,  persist  in  putting  a  different  construction 
upon  the  words  of  his  sentence. 

'  Aware  of  this  state  of  things,  and  aware  also  with  characteristic 


Ckftrch  Sejbrm.  177"^ 

wMiudi,  of  tli«  deadly  e?il  9i  velij^oiis  dmsioni,  the  Rmkn  Catholi 
CitiMil  flsoribed  to  the  soveieigit  power  ia  the  Christian  society  ia 
^f9^  SQOoessiTe  age^  an  vniailible  tpirit  of  truths  whereby  the  real 
neaoing  of  any  disputed  passage  of  Scriptare  might  be  certainly  and 
aiithorftatively  dedared ;  and  if  the  Scripture  were  silent,  then  the 
1Mf»g  rwse  of  the  Church  might  supply  its  place, — and  being  guided 
by  that  same  Spirit  which  had  inspired  the  written  Word,  might  pro- 
■aoBoe  upoki  any  new  point  of  controversy  with  a  decision  of  no  less 
aHihoHty- 

*  With  the  same  riew  of  prerenting  divisions,  the  unity  of  the 
CSiafch  was  mahxtained,  in  a  sense  perfectly  intelligible  and  ooi>« 
sistent.  Christians,  wherever  they  lived,  belonged  literally  to  one  and 
the  same  society, — they  were  subject  to  the  same  laws  and  to  the  same 
government.  National  and  political  distinctions  were  wholly  lost 
8%lit  of;  the  vicar  of  Christ  and  his  general  council  knew  nothing  of 
£agland  or  of  fVance,  of  Germany  or  of  Spain ;  they  made  laws  for 
ChrUiendiom — a  mi^ificent  word,  and  well  expressing  those  high  aad 
eonalatent  notion^  w  unity,  on  which  the  Church  of  Rome  based  its 
aystem.  One  government,  one  law,  one  faith,  kept  frte  from  doabt 
and  error  by  the  support  c^  an  infallible  authority — the  theory  was  is 
f&t(ktt  harmony  with  itself,  and  most  imposing  from  its  beauty  and 
apparent  usefulness ;  but  it  began  with  assuming  a  falsehood,  and  its 
intended  conclnsion  was  an  impossibility. 

'  It  IB  Mae  that  there  exists  in  the  Church  any  power  or  office  en« 
dowed  with  the  gift  of  infallible  wisdom  ;  and  therefore  it  is  impose 
dble  to  prevent  diflerences  of  opinion.  But  the  claim  to  infallibility 
was  not  only  false  but  mischievous ;  because  it  encouraged  the  notion 
Aat  these  differences  were  to  be  condemned  and  prevented,  and  thus 
hindered  men  from  learning  the  truer  and  better  lesson,  how  to  make 
them  perfectly  compatible  with  Christian  union.  Doubtless  it  were  a 
fin*  happier  state  of  things  if  men  did  not  differ  from  each  other  at  all ; 
-^Imt  this  may  be  wished  for  only  ;  it  is  a  serious  folly  to  expect  it. 
Far  80,  while  grieving  over  an  inevitable  evil,  we  heap  on  it  i^erava* 
tiona  of  our  own  making,  which  are  fEir  worse  than  the  original  mis-> 
diief.  Difl^noes  of  opinion  will  exist,  but  it  is  our  fault  that  they 
sfaoold  have  been  considered  equivalent  to  differences  of  principle,  and 
made  a  reason  for  separation  and  hostility. 

'  Our  fathers  rigtitly  appreciated  the  value  of  church  unity  ;  but 
they  strangely  mistook  the  means  of  preserving  it.  Their  system  con- 
sisted in  drawing  up  a  statement  of  what  they  deemed  important 
truths,  and  in  appointing  a  form  of  worship  and  a  ceremonial  which 
they  believed  to  be  at  once  dignified  and  edifying ;  and  when  they 
proposed  to  oblige  every  man,  by  the  dread  of  legal  penalties  or  dis« 
qnalifications,  to  subscribe  to  their  opinions  and  to  conform  to  their 
rites  and  practices.  But  they  forgot  that  while  requiring  this  agree- 
ment, they  had  themselves  disclaimed,  what  alone  could  justify  them 
in  enforcing  it — the  possession  of  infallibility.  They  had  parted  with 
the  weapon  which  would  have  served  them  most  effectually,  and 
strange  were  the  expedients  resorted  to  for  supplying  its  place.  At 
line  tnne  it  was  the  Apostle's  Creed ;  at  another,  the  decrees  of  th^ 
faar  first  general  eooncils ;  or,  at  another,  the  general  consent  of  the 

voir.  IX.— N,S.  X 


178  Chutch  Reform., 

primitiae  Churchy  which  fbnned  an  anthoritatiTe  ttandaid  of  tfoeh 
truths  as  might  not  be  questioned  without  heremr*  .  But  though  the 
elephant  might  still  rest  upon  the  tortoise,  and  the  tortmse  on  the 
stone,  yet  since  the  claim  to  in&llibilitj  was  once  abandoned,  the  stcwe 
itself  rested  on  nothing.  The  four  first  councils  were  appealed  to  as 
sanctioning  their  interpretation  of  Scripture  by  men  who  yet  confessed 
that  the  decisions  of  these  councils  were  only  of  ^^roe,  because  th^ 
were  agreeable  to  the  Scripture.  Turn  which  ever  way  they  would, 
they  sought  in  vain  for  an  avthority  in  religious  controversies ;  infalli- 
bility being  nowhere  to  be  found,  it  was  merely  opinion  against  opi« 
nion ;  and  however  convinced  either  party  might  be  of  the  truth  of  its 
own  views^  they  had  no  right  to  judge  their  opponents. 

'  With  regard  to  the  ceremonies  and  practices  of  the  Church,  a  dif- 
ferent ground  was  taken.  It  is  curious  to  observe  the  contradictory 
positions  in  which  the  two  parties  were  placed : — the  Church  of  Eng- 
land enforcing  a  tyranny  upon  principles  in  themselves  most  liberal 
and  most  true ; — the  Dissenters  accidentally  advocating  the  cause  of 
liberty,  while  their  principles  were  those  of  the  most  narrow-minded 
fiinaticism.  One  feels  ashamed  to  think  that  the  great  truths  so  clearly 
and  so  eloquently  established  by  Hooker,  in  the  earlier  books  of  his 
Ecclesiastical  Polity,  should  have  served  in  practice  the  petty  tyranny 
of  Laud  and  Whitgift,  or  the  utterly  selfish  and  worldly  policy  of  Eli- 
zabeth. The  Church  of  England  maintained  most  truly,  that  rites 
and  ceremonies,  being  things  indifferent  in  themselves,  might  be  alter- 
ed according  to  the  difference  of  times  and  countries,  and  that  the  re- 
gulation of  such  matters  was  left  wholly  to  the  national  Church.  But 
inasmuch  as  the  government  of  the  national  Church  was  a  mere  des- 
potism— the  crown  having  virtually  transferred  to  itself  the  authority 
formerly  exercised  by  the  Popes— its  appointments  were  made  with  an 
imperious  stiffness,  which  was  the  more  offensive  from  the  confessed 
indifferent  nature  of  the  matters  in  question ;  and  while  one  ritual 
was  inflexibly  imposed  upon  the  whole  community,  in  direct  opposi- 
tion to  the  feelings  of  many  of  its  members,  and  too  simple  and  unat- 
tractive to  engage  the  sympathies  of  the  multitude,  this  fond  attempt 
to  arrive  at  uniformity,  inflicted  a  deadly  blow,  according  to  Lord 
Falkland's  most  true  observation  on  the  real  blessing  of  Christian 
union.'    pp.  15 — 21. 

After  a  rapid  sketch  of  the  intervening  period.  Dr.  Arnold 
thus  adverts  to  the  present  aspect  of  parties* 

'  But  the  population  outgrew  the  efforts  both  of  the  Church  and  of 
the  Dissenters ;  and  multitudes  of  persons  existed  in  the  country,  who 
could  not  properly  be  said  to  belong  to  either.  These  were,  of  course, 
the  most  ignorant  and  degraded  portion  of  the  whole  community, — a 
body  whose  influence  is  always  for  evil  of  some  sort,  but  not  always 
for  evil  of  the  same  sort, — which  is  first  the  brute  abettor  and  encou- 
rager  of  abuses,  and  afterwards  their  equally  brute  destroyer.  For 
many  years,  the  populace  hated  the  Dissenters  for  the  stnctness  of 
their  lives,  and  because  they  had  departed  from  the  institutions  of 
their  country ;  for  ignorance,  before  it  is  irritated  by  physical  distress, 


Noticed.  179 

and  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  excitement  of  political  agitation,  is 
blindly  averse  to 'all  change,  and  looks  upon  reform  Us  a  trouble  and  a 
disturbance.  Thus,  the  populace  in  Spain  and  in  Naples  have  shown 
themselves  decided  enemies  to  the  constitutional  party ;  and  thus  the 
mob  at  Birmingham,  so  late  as  the  year  1791,  plundered  and  burnt 
Louses  to  the  cry  of  "  Church  and  King,"  and  threatened  to  roast  Dr. 
Priestley  alive,  as  a  heretic.  But  there  is  a  time,  and  it  is  one 
fraught  with  revolutions,  when  this  tide  of  ienorance  suddenly  turns, 
and  runs  in  the  opposite  direction  with  equal  violence.  Distress  and 
continued  aeitation  produce  this  change ;  but  its  peculiar  danger  arises 
from  this,  that  its  causes  operate  for  a  long  time  without  any  apparent 
effect,  and  we  observe  their  seeming  inefficiency  till  we  think  that 
there  is  nothing  to  fear  from  them ;  when  suddenly  the  ground  falls 
in  under  our  feet,  and  we  find  that  their  work,  though  slow,  had  been 
done  but  too  surely.  And  this  is  now  the  case  with  the  populace  of 
England.  From  cheering  for  Church  and  King,  they  are  now  come 
to  cry  for  no  bishops,  no  tithes,  and  no  rates ;  from  persecuting  the 
Dissenters,  because  they  had  separated  from  the  Church,  they  are  now 
eagerly  joining  with  them  for  that  very  same  reason  ;  while  the  Dis- 
senters, on  their  part,  readily  welcome  tnese  new  auxiliaries,  and  reckon 
on  their  aid  for  effecting  the  complete  destruction  of  their  old  enemy.' 

pp.  26,  27. 

This  is  not,  perhaps,  quite  a  coTrect  statement,  as  regards  the 
whole  body ;  but  we  must  defer  all  observations  till  another  op- 
portunity. 


NOTICES. 

Art.  VII.  The  Annual  Biography  and  Obituary.  1833.     Vol.  XVII. 
8vo.  pp.  476.  London.  1^33. 

This  publication  is  very  respectably  maintained ;  and  the  last  year  has 
been  remarkable  for  the  number  of  eminent  men  whom  it  has  carried 
off.  The  principal  memoirs  in  the  present  volume  are,  the  poet  Crabbe; 
Sir  William  Grant;  Bishop  Huntingford ;  Dr.  Adam  Clarke;  Sir  James 
Mackintosh;  {see  our  Jirst  article  in  the  present  Number;)  Muzio 
Clementi ;  Sir  Walter  Scott ;  Charles  Butler,  Esq. ;  Bishop  Turner ; 
Anna  Maria  Porter ;  and  Jeremy  Bentham.  The  last  article  is  fur- 
nished by  a  zealous  disciple  and  admirer.  Of  course,  in  a  compilation 
like  the  present,  the  reader  will  not  look  for  any  thing  so  rare  and 
valuable  as  impartial  or  elaborate  biography.  Facts,  not  opinions,  are 
all  that  it  should  be  attempted  to  supply. 


x2 


180  Notices. 

4 

Art  Vm.  Tke Religimqf  Tatte,  t  Ptotm.  Bf  OtaAm  WBan.  Re^ 
printed  from  the  Amencan  EdkioR  of  his  Lkeraiy  RenudM;  Iflhn* 
pp.  56.    London.    1832. 

Tb9  Author  of  this  'Foem  wm  s  imtire  of  N^^qsortr  in  New  Hamp- 
shire, asd  was  bom  of  respeetable  parents  in  17M.  In  his  thirtieth 
year,  he  was  ordained  as  the  pastor  of  a  chnrdi  SA  Hortibr^ ;  bot  in 
about  8  year  and  a  half,  he  was  compelled  by  ill  health  to  roiSgn  his 
eharge;  and  after  lingering  for  some  time,  he  expired  May  89, 1887- 
His  object  in  this  Poem  was,  to  warn  persons  €^  the  ssime  ardent  and 
poetic  temperament  as  himself,  that  the  vital  Riirit  of  Christianity  is 
something  more  than  a  susceptibility  of  natnrai  and  moral  beauty,— 
something  more  than  '  the  religion  of  taste.'  Of  the  genius  displayed 
by  this  American  Poet,  the  fbllowiag  stamsas  will  eni»le  our  reaoers 
to  judge. 

'xxrir. 

'  To  love  the  beautiful  is  not  to  hate 
The  holy,  nor  to  wander  from  the  true ; 
Else  why  in  Eden  did  its  Lord  create 
Each  green  and  shapely  tree  to  please  the  view  ? 
Why  not  enongh  that  there  the  fruitful  grew  ? 
But  wherefore  think  it  virtue  pure  and  meat 
To  fSeast  the  eye  with  shape  and  bloom  and  hue  ? 
Or  wherefore  think  it  holier  than  the  zest 
With  which  the  purple  grape  by  panting  lips  is  prest. 

'  XXVIII. 

'  The  rose  delights  with  colour  and  with  form. 
Nor  less  with  fragrance ;  but  to  love  the  flower 
For  either,  or  for  all,  is  not  to  warm 
The  bosom  with  the  thought  of  that  high  Power, 
Who  gathered  all  into  its  blooming  hour : 
As  well  might  love  of  gold  be  love  to  Him, 
Who  on  the  mountain  poured  its  pristine  shower. 
And  buried  it  in  currents  deep  and  dim. 
Or  spread  it  in  bright  drops  along  the  river's  brim. 

'XXIX. 

'  Yet  Taste  and  Virtue  are  not  bom  to  atrife ; 
'Tis  when  the  earthly  would  the  heavenly  scorn. 
Nor  merely  spread  with  flowers,  her  path  to  life^ 
But  woula  supplant  when  bound  to  cheer  and  warn. 
Or  at  the  touch  of  every  wounding  thorn 
Would  tempt  her  from  that  path,  or  bid  her  trust 
No  truth  too  high  for  fiincy  to  adorn. 
And  turn  from  all  too  humble  with  disgust ; 
'Tis  then  she  wakes  a  war,  when  in  her  pride  unjust. 


Notices,  181 


*  XXX. 

'  But  oft  in  Taste  when  mindful  of  her  birtb. 
Celestial  Virtue  owns  a  mortal  friend, 
A  fit  interpreter  of  scenes  of  earth. 
And  one  delighting  thought  with  hers  to  blend 
Amid  their  loveliness,  and  prompt  to  lend 
The  light  and  charm  of  her  own  smile  to  all ; — 
Thus  when  to  heaven  our  best  affections  tend. 
Taste  helps  the  spirit  upward  at  the  call 
Of  Faith  and  echoing  Hope,  or  scorns  to  work  its  fall, 

'  XXXI. 

*  The  path  we  love, — to  that  all  things  allure ; 
We  give  them  power  malignant  or  benign ; 
Yes,  to  the  pure  in  heart  all  things  are  pure ; 
And  to  the  bright  in  fancy,  all  things  shine ; 
All  frown  on  those  that  in  deep  sorrow  pine. 
Smile  on  the  cheerful,  lead  the  wise  abroad 
O'er  Nature's  realm  in  search  of  laws  divine ; 
All  draw  the  earthly  down  to  their  vile  clod ; 
And  all  unite  to  lift  the  heavenly  to  their  God. 

'  XXXII. 

'  The  universe  is  calm  to  faith  serene ; 
And  all  with  glory  shines  to  her  bright  eye ; 
The  mount  of  Sion,  crowned  with  living  green 
By  all  the  beams  and  dews  of  its  pure  sky, 
She  sees  o'er  clouds  and  tempests  rising  high 
From  its  one  fountain  pouring  streams  that  bear 
Fresh  life  and  beauty,  ne'er  to  fade  and  die. 
But  make  the  blasted  earth  an  aspect  wear, 
Like  that  of  its  blest  prime,  divinely  rich  and  fair/ 


VOL.  IX. — N.». 


(     182     ) 

Art.  IX.    CORRESPONDENCE. 
TO  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  ECLECTIC  REVIEW. 

8IR, 

Were  it  not  that  the  concluding  part  of  jour  observations  on  the 
Letter  which  yon  did  me  the  fevour  to  print  in  the  last  Number  of 
your  Journal^  may  lead  your  readers  to  infer  that  I  evaded  giving  an 
opinion  as  to  the  validity  of  one  of    the  authorities  quoted  from 
Mr.  Hanbury  (Eel.  Rev.  Oct.  1832,  p.  293,)  I   should  not  so  soon 
have  again  trespassed  on  your  time  and  patience.     To  obviate  such  an 
inference,  therefore,  you  will,  perhaps,  allow  me  to  observe,  that  I 
omitted  to  notice  that  authority  merely  because  I  conceived  it  to  be 
entirely  set  aside  by  what  I  had  already  written.     In  the  absence  of 
all  original  documents,  the  writer  in  the  Christian  Remembrancer 
aflirms,  that  '<it  is  certain  that  the  disputed  Clause  of  the  XXth 
Article  of  the  Church  of  England  was  never  composed  by,  nor  ex- 
hibited in  manuscript  to,  the  Convocation  ".  Archbishop  Laud,  on  the 
contrary,  appeals  to  the  then  existing  manuscripi  Records  of  Convoca* 
iion  as  containing  the  Clause,  and  his  appeal  is  left  uncontradicted  by 
persons  who  had  the  power,  and  the  will,  to  controvert  that  appeal  if 
contradiction  bad  been  possible.     The  only  question  then  which  re- 
mains is  this :  Is  the  assertion  that  ''  none  ever  ventured  to  impugn  " 
Laud's  appeal  to  the  Records,  ''  unsupported  "  by  history  ?     The  facts 
of  the   case,   so  far  as  my   information  extends,  are  briefly  these: 
Dr.  Laud  is  charged  in  1637  with  having  illegally  made  alterations  in 
certain  Formularies  sanctioned  by  Acts  of  Parliament: — among  other 
alterations  specifically  charged  upon  him  was  the  interpolation  of  a 
Clause  in  the  XXth  Article. — ^Laud  had  "  the  impndency  "  (as  Prynne 
has  it)  to  justify  such  alterations  as  he  admitted  to  have  been  made, 
but  denied  that  any  addition  whatever  had  been  introduced  into  the 
XXth  Article ;  maintaining,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  Clause  which 
he  had  been  accused  of  forging,  was  to  be  found  in  the  original  Records 
of  Convocation,  and  producing  at  the  same  time  ''  an  attested  Copy  *' 
of  that  Clause  extracted  from  those  Records.     At  this  point,  however, 
it  is  argued,  that  "the  controversy  was  cut  short,  not  by  evidence,  but 
by  authority."     Let  us  enquire,  tnen,  how  far  this  "  assertion  "  is  sup- 
ported by  fact.     Admitting  that  the  controversy  ^vas  terminated  by 
authority  in  1637^  yet,  in  March,  1644,   the  House  of    Commons 
ordered  that  "  Master  Prynne  hath  power  to  view,  and  send  for. 
Writings,  Papers,  Orders,  and  Records,  and  to  take  copies  thereof  as 
he  sees  cause  ;  "  and  this  for  the  very  purpose,  among  other  things,  of 
carrying  on  the  controversy  in  question.     The  consequence  was,  that, 
in  the  course  of  Laud*s  impeachment,  those  "  publike  Records  of  the 
Church"  which  he  is  said  to  have  altered,  are  again  specifically  pointed 
out ; — his  Speech  in  the  Star-Cham ber  in  defence  of  those  alterations 
is  expressly  recited  ;—  but  tlie  charge  of  having  interpolated  a  Clause 
in  the  XXth  Article  is  never  once  alluded  to.     But  of  how  much 
consequence   it   would   have  been    to   set    aside    the    Archbishop's 
appeal  to  the  Records  of  Convocation,  will  at  once  occur  to  your  readers 


Correspondence*  188 

when  they  consider  that  such  a  result  would  have  afforded  additional 
matter  of  grave  accusation  against  Laud  in  that  it  would  have  fastened 
upon  him  the  wickedness  of  having  produced  in  the  Star-Chamber  a 
forged  Instrument  which  professed  to  be  an  "  attested  Copy  "  of  a 
Clause  that  did  not  in  fact  exist.  On  the  other  hand,  to  pass  the 
matter  over  in  silence,  as  the  Archbishop's  accusers  did,  was,  in  my 
apprehension,  tacitly  to  admit  that  the  Instrument  exhibited  by  him 
in  the  Star-Chamber  was  a  true  Copy  of  a  Clause  actually  to  be  found 
in  the  Records  of  the  Convocation.  1  am  the  more  disposed,  also,  to 
adhere  to  this  conclusion,  because  it  is  matter  of  notoriety  that  Prynne, 
to  whom  the  task  of  collecting  evidence  against  Laud  was  entrusted, 
was,  (with  all  his  defects  of  character,)  too  acute  a  man  to  have  omitted 
to  bring  forward  so  grave  a  charge  against  the  accused  as  that  above- 
mentioned,  provided  there  had  been  ground  for  it ;  and  too  honest  a 
man  to  repeat  the  charge  of  Laud's  having  interpolated  an  Article  of 
Religion,  if  he  found  by  reference  to  documents  that  such  a  charge 
was  destitute  of  foundation. 

Whether  or  not  Laud,  in  his  defence  in  the  Star  Chamber,  actually 
**  produced  '*  any  early  editions  of  the  Articles,  may  not  appear ;  but 
I  do  not  find  that  those  who  afterwards  examined  his  library  ever 
taxed  him  with  referring  to  editions  which  he  did  not  possess.  He 
doubtless  might  have  produced  such  early  editions  of  the  Articles  if 
it  had  been  necessary,  for  there  are  now  existing  a  Latin  edition,  1563^ 
printed  by  Wolfe ;  one,  if  not  two,  English  editions,  printed  by  Jugg 
and  Cawood,  J551;  what  is  considered,  the  Authentic  Edition  in 
English,  1571«  by  the  last  named  printers;  besides  other  editions  of 
later  date, — all  containing  the  disputed  clause.  An  enumeration  of 
the  earlier  editions  may,  I  believe,  be  seen  in  the  Preface  to  Bennett's 
Historical  Essay  on  the  Articles. 

With  regard  to  the  Note  in  Archdeacon  Blackburn's  Confessional,  to 
which  yon  refer,  I  am  quite  willing  to  leave  your  readers  to  decide  be- 
tween the  considerations  which  I  have  submitted  to  your  notice,  and  any 
inference  which  the  Archdeacon  may  have  been  able  to  deduce  against 
the  authenticity  of  the  disputed  clause,  from  ]\Ir.  Hale's  Letter  to  Dr. 
Land.  The  only  remark,  therefore,  I  think  it  necessary  to  make 
on  that  note  is,  that  the  whole  question  depends  not  on  what  is  found 
in  any  Latin  edition  of  the  Articles,  but  on  what  is  read  in  that 
English  edition  referred  to  by  the  Act  13M  of  Elizabeth,  under  the 
title  of  ''  A  booke  imprinted,"  &c.  The  Records  of  the  Convocation 
from  which  that  edition  was  printed  having  been  destroyed,  the  au- 
thenticity of  the  disputed  clause  in  the  Twentieth  Article  may  ever 
remain  among  the  qucestiones  vexatce  of  literature ;  yet,  it  seems  to 
me,  that  there  is  sufficient  evidence  in  its  favour  to  induce  any  scholar 
to  hesitate  before  he  authoritatively  pronounces  that  clause  to  be  a 
"forgery." 

It  now  only  remains  for  me  to  apologize  for  having  inflicted  such  a 
lengthy  communication  upon  you,  but  my  excuse  must  be  the  pleasure 
one  cannot  but  feel  in  discussing  any  subject  with  an  impartial  oppo- 
nent. I  can  also,  in  much  sincerity,  assure  you,  that  in  these  days  of 
ignorant  prejudice  and  evil  passion,  it  is  no  small  satisfaction  to  corre- 
spond with  a  Journalist,  whose  honourable  distinction  is,  that,  in  any 

Y  2 


184  Literary  Intelligence. 

opposition  be  may  feel  it  necessary  to  manifest  towards  the  Church  of 
England,  his  aim  is  to  found  that  opposition  on  argument^  and  not  on 
clamour. 

Dec.  22^  1832.  One  of  youb  Readers. 

The  above  letter  was  received  too  late  for  insertion  in  our  last 
Number.  We  have  deemed  it  but  fair  to  our  courteous  and  well- 
informed  Correspondent,  to  allow  him  the  benefit  of  replying  to  our 
remarks ;  but  here,  our  readers  will  probably  think,  the  subject  ought 
to  drop.  We  will  simply  suggest,  that,  even  although  the  charge 
which  would  fix  the  forgery  upon  Laud,  may  have  been  unsus- 
ceptible  of  proof,  or  without  foundation,  this  circumstance  would 
not  prove  that  the  clause  was  not  originally  an  unauthorized  in- 
terpolation. I^aud"'s  own  admission,  that  in  1571*  (the  very  year 
when  the  Articles  were  first  confirmed  by  13  Eliz.  cap.  12,)  the 
Articles  were  printed,  both  in  Latin  and  English,  without  the 
clause,  which  he  imputes  to  ^  the  malicious  cunning  of  that  oppo- 

*  site  faction  \  who  'governed  businesses  in  1571»  and  rid  the 

*  Church  almost  at  their  pleasure**, — we  must  still  consider  as 
fatal  to  the  authority  of  the  clause.  We  say  nothing  here  as  to 
the  wisdom  of  retaining  it. 


Art.  X.     LITERARY  INTELLIGENCE. 

In  the  press,  a   Historical  Sketch  of  the  Baptist  Denomination  ; 
prosenting  a  view  of  its  rise,  progress,  and  present  state,  in  all  rarts  of 
the   world  ;    to   which    is   added,  nn   Alphabetical   List   of  Baptist 
Churches  in  England^  with   dates  of  their  formation,  and  names  of 
Pastors.     By  Charles  Thompson.     In  one  small  volume. 

In  the  press,  Notre  Dame,  a  tale  of  the  ancien  Regime,  from  the 
French  of  Victor  Hugo.  By  the  translator  of  Wilson's  Edition  of 
"  Lafayette." 

In  the  press,  to  be  ready  on  the  1st  of  March,  Bagster's  Improved 
Edition  of  Cruden's  Concordance  of  the  New  Testament  (being  one 
of  the  "  Polymicrian  Series.") 

This  English  Concordance  may  be  united  with  Mr.  Greenfield's 
editiod  of  Schmidt's  Greek  Concordance  (one  of  the  Pofymicrian  Se- 
ries), thereby,  in  one  small  volume  will  be  found  together  the  most 
complete  Concordance  extant  of  the  Greek,  and  of  the  English  New 
Testament. 


Nearly  ready  for  publication.  The  Leed's  Sunday  School  Union 
Hynm  Bfiok,  containing  an  entirely  new  Selection  of  400  appropriate 
Hymns,  each  having  been  diligently  compared  with  its  most  authentic 
copy,  for  the  purpose  of  restoring  that  original  beauty  of  which  too 
many  have  been  shorn  by  the  frequent  alterations  of  successive  com- 
pilers. Several  Hymns  nave  been  composed  expressly  for  the  work, 
And  a  collection  for  Teacher's  Meetings  has  been  appended,  which  the 
^itor  hopes  will  be  acceptable  to  "  The  Brethren. ' 


Literary  Intelligence.  185 

A  reprint  of  Professor  Stuart's  Commentary  on  the  Romans^  will 
very  shortly  be  ready,  printed  at  the  especial  request  of  the  Professor, 
under  the  superintendence  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  J.  Pye  Smith,  and  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Henderson. 

Preparing  for  publication,  in  royal  d2mo.  handsomely  printed  upon 
fine  paper,  hotpressed,  and  bound  in  rich  watered  silk,  with  gilt  edges. 
The  Adieu  !  A  Farewell  Token  to  a  Christian  Friend,  consisting  of 
entirely  Original  Pieces,  in  Prose  and  Verse.  By  the  Author  of 
"  Gideon,"  *'  The  Lady  at  the  Farm  House,"  "  My  Early  Years," 
&c.,  and  other  Popular  Writers. 

Preparing  for  publication.  The  Naturalist's  Library.  Conducted  by 
Sir  William  Jardine,  Bart.  F.R.S.E.  F.L.S.  &c.  *  Illustrated  with 
numerous  coloured  plates,  engraved  by  W.  H.  Lizars,  fcap.  8vo.  The 
subjects  for  the  Volumes  which  are  now  in  preparation  are: — Vol.  ]• 
Natural  History  of  Monkeys. — 2.  The  feline  Race,  or  Animals  of  the 
Cat  kind. — 3.  I'he  Dog.— 4.  Sheep  and  Goats  — 5.  Deer.— 6.  Eagles 
and  Hawks. — 7»  Humming  Birds. — 8.  Creepers.— 9.  Gallinaceous 
Birds. — 10.  Partridges  and  Grouse. — 11.  Cetacea,  or  Whales. — 12. 
The  Salmon. — 13.  Coleopterous  Insects,  or  Beetles. — 14.  Bees,  &c. 

In  the  press,  Philosophical  Conversations ;  in  which  are  familiarly 
explained  the  Effects  and  Causes  of  many  Daily  Occurrences  in  Na- 
tural Phenomena.     By  F.  C.  Bakewell.     J2mo. 

Nearly  ready.  The  Angushire  Album ;  a  Selection  of  Pieces,  in 
Prose  and  Verse.     By  Gentlemen  in  Angushire. 

The  two  following  works  are  announced  as  the  forthcoming  volumes 
of  the  Edinburgh  Cabinet  Library:  —  1.  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh, 
founded  on  Authentic  and  Orij^inal  Documents,  some  of  them  never 
before  published :  including  a  View  of  the  most  Important  Transactions 
in  the  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James  I. ;  Sketches  of  Burleigh,  Essex, 
Secretary  Cecil,  Sidney,  Spenser,  and  other  eminent  Contemporaries : 
with  a  Vindication  of  his  character  from  the  attacks  of  Hume  and 
other  writers.  By  Patrick  Eraser  Tytler,  Esq.,  F.R.S.  &  F.S.A. 
With  Portraits,  &c.  by  Horsburgh  and  Jackson.  2.  Nubia  and 
Abyssinia;  comprehending  their  Civil  History,  Antiquities,  Arts,  Re- 
ligion, Literature,  and  Natural  History.  By  the  Rev.  M.  Russell, 
LL.D.;  James  Wilson,  Esq.,  F.R.S.E.  &  M.W.S.;  and  R.  K. 
GreviUe,  L.L.D.     Illustrated  by  a  Map  and  12  Engravings. 

Preparing  for  publication,  a  brief  Memoir  of  the  Pastor  NefF,  com- 
prising information  obtained  from  some  of  NefF's  particular  friends, 
respecting  the  change  in  his  religious  sentiments,  and  other  interesting 
details.  By  the  Author  of  the  Memoir  which  appeared  in  the  Con- 
gregational Magazine. 

Shortly  will  be  published,  "  Johannice,"  a  Poem  in  Two  Cantos ; 
Monody  on  Lord  Byron  ;  and  other  Poems.  By  the  Rev.  John  Dryden 
Pigott,  Jun.,  B.A.,  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  and  Chaplain  to  the 
Most  Noble  the  Marquis  of  Tweedale. 


186  Literary  InielUgence. 

Ready  for  the  press^  The  Supreme  Divinity  of  Christ,  in  connexion 
with  His  Human  Nature,  considered  as  the  Basis  of  His  Mediatorial 
Character.     By  B.  Quaife,  Author  of  '^  A  Memento  for  the  Afflicted." 

Mr.  Murray  is  preparing  for  publication,  a  new  Monthly  Work,  il- 
lustrative of  the  pages  of  Holy  Writ,  consisting  of  Views  of  the  most 
remarkable  Places  mentioned  in  the  Bible.  It  will  appear  in  the  month 
of  February,  and  will  be  called  ''  Landscape  Illustrations  of  the  Old 
and  New  Testaments."  The  Drawings,  by  J.  M.  W.  Turner,  R. A.,  and 
A.  W.  Callcott,  R.A.,  are  copied  from  original  and  aulhenlic  Sketches 
taken  on  the  spot  by  Artists  and  Travellers ;  the  utmost  regard  being 
paid  to  the  fidelity  of  the  views.  The  Plates  will  be  engraved  by  Wil- 
liam and  Edward  Finden,  and  other  eminent  Artists  under  their  su- 
perintendence. A  detailed  Prospectus  and  a  Specimen  Plate  will  be 
issued  immediately. 

A  New  Edition  of  Wilbur's  Reference  Testament,  with  References 
and  a  Key  of  Questions,  Maps,  &c.  &c,,  is  nearly  ready. 

A  New  Edition  of  Prideaux's  Directions  to  Church  wardens^  with 
considerable  Additions  by  Robert  Philip  Tyrwhitt^  Esq.,  Barrister-at- 
Law,  is  nearly  ready. 

In  the  Press,  and  spcedilv  will  be  published,  in  one  small  volume, 
12mo,  Questions,  Critical,  t'hilological,  and  Exegetical,  formed  on  the 
Annotations  to  Dr.  Bloomiield's  Edition  of  the  Greek  Testament. — 
The  work  has  been  drawn  up  at  the  desire  of  some  eminent  Prelates, 
and  other  considerable  ]>ersons  of  the  Church  and  the  Universities,  by 
Dr.  B.  himself,  and  has  been  framed  with  especial  reference  to  the 
Examinations  at  the  Universities,  and  those  for  Holy  Orders ;  though 
it  is,  at  the  same  time,  so  formed  as  to  be  highly  serviceable  to  all 
Theological  readers. 

In  the  Press,  and  speedily  will  be  published,  in  1  VoL  8vo.,  a  His- 
tory of  Croydon.     By  Steinman  Steinman,  Esq.,  Architect. 

Dr.  Boott  is  preparing  for  publication,  in  two  Octavo  Volumes,  a 
Memoir  of  the  Life  and  Medical  Opinions  of  Dr.  Armstrong,  late 
Physician  of  the  Fever  Institution  of  London,  and  Author  of''  Practical 
Illustrations  of  Typhus  and  Scarlet  Fever  ";  to  which  will  be  added, 
an  Inquiry  into  the  Facts  connected  with  those  Forms  of  Fever 
attributed  to  Malaria  and  Marsh  Effluvium. 


(    187    ) 


Art.  XI.     WORKS  RECENTLY  PUBLISHED. 


BIOORAPHr. 

John  Milton ;  bis  Life  and  Times,  Re- 
ligious and  Political  Opinions ;  with  Anim- 
adversions upi)n  Dr.  Johnson's  Life  of 
Milton.  By  Joseph  Iviraey.  8vo.  With 
a  Portrait.     IO5. 

Memorials  of  the  Professional  Life  and 
Timet  of  Sir  William  Penn,  Knight.  Ad- 
miral and  General  of  the  Fleet  during  the 
Interregnum,  Admiral  and  Commissioner 
of  the  Admiralty  and  Navy  aAer  the  Re- 
storation. From  1644  to  1670.  By  Gran- 
rille  Penn,  Esq.  2  Vols.  8vo.  With 
Plates.     1/.  16«. 

The  Remains  of  William  Phelan,  D.D.; 
with  a  Biographical  Memoir.  By  John, 
Bishop  of  LJmerick,  Ardfert,  and  Aghadoe. 
2  Vols.  8vo.     1/.  Is. 

Lives,  Characters,  and  an  Address  to 
Posterity.  By  Gilbert  Burnet,  D.D.,  Lord 
Bishop  of  Sarum.  Edited,  with  an  Intro- 
duction and  Notes,  by  John  Jebb,  D.D., 
F.R.S.,  Bishop  of  Limerick,  Ardfert,  and 
Aghadoe.    8vo.     lOs,  6d. 

HISTORY. 

History  of  Spain  and  Portugal.  From 
Dr.  Lardner^s  Cabinet  Cyclopaedia.  5  Vols, 
am.  8to.     li,  lOs.  cloth. 

Narrative  of  the  Ashantee  War ;  with  a 
View  of  the  Present  State  of  the  Colony  of 
Sierra  Leone.  By  Major  Ricketts,  late  of 
the  Royal  African  Colonial  Corps.  8vo. 
10«.  6tf« 

Facts  and  Documents  illustrative  of  the 
History,  Doctrine^  and  Rites  of  the  An- 
cient Albigenses  and  Waldenses.  By  the 
Rev.  S.  R.  Maitland.    8vo.     16«. 

ICEDICINK. 

A  Practical  Account  of  the  Epidemic 
Cholera,  and  of  the  Treatment  requisite  in 
the  various  Modifications  of  that  Disease. 
By  William  Twining,  of  the  Royal  College 
of  Surgeons,  London;  First  Assistant- 
Surgeon,  General  Hospital,  Calcutta.  Post 
8vo.     6s. 

MISCKLLANBOUS. 

Transactions  of  the  Royal  Geological 
Society  of  Cornwall.  With  a  Geological 
Map  of  the  County.     8vo.     I65. 

Life  Tables,  founded  upon  the  discovery 
of  a  numerical  Law,  regulating  the  exist- 
ence of  every  human  being;  illustrated  by 
a  New  Theory  of  the   causes  producing 


health  and  longevity.  By  T.  R.  Edmonds* 
B.A.,  late  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 
Author  of  **  Practical  Moral  and  Political 
Economy.     Royal  8vo.     6s. 

POLITICAL. 

Principles  of  Church  Reform.  By  Tho- 
mas Arnold,  D.D.,  Head  Master  of  Rugby 
School,  and  late  Fellow  of  Oriel  College 
Oxford.     8vo.     2s. 

An  Address  to  the  Clergy  on  Church 
Reform,  with  Remarks  on  the  Plans  of 
Lord  Hcnle}'  and  Dr.  Burton,  and  on  the 
Article  in  the  last  Quarterly  Review.  By 
the  Rev.  William  Pullen.  B.A.,  Rector  of 
Little  Gidding,  Hunts.     8vo.     2s.  6d, 

A  Letter  to  His  Grace  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  on  Church  Reform ;  in 
which  is  suggested  a  Plan  of  Alterations 
both  safe  and  efficient.  By  a  Non-Bene- 
ficed  Clergyman.     2s. 

An  Historical  Argument  on  the  Origin 
of  Property  of  Tithes,  with  Remarks  on 
the  expediency  of  a  fair  and  equitable  Com- 
mutation, in  a  Letter  to  Earl  Grey.  By 
the  Ven.  George  Glover,  Archdeacon  of 
Shrewsbury,  Chaplain  to  His  Royal  High- 
ness the  Duke  of  Sussex.     Is.  6af. 

Some  Considerations  on  Church  Re- 
form, and  on  the  Principles  of  Church  Le- 
gislation. By  the  Rev.  F.  C  Massing- 
berd,  M.  A.,  of  Magdalen  College,  Oxford, 
and  Rector  of  Ormsby,  Lincolnshire. 
12mo.     Sif.  6d, 

Notes,  Historical  and  Legal,  on  the  En- 
dowments of  the  Church  of  England.  By 
W.  Clayton  Walters,  Esq.,  M.A^  Bar- 
rister-at- Law,  and  Fellow  of  Jesus  College, 
Cambridge.     2s. 

A  Letter  to  the  Right  Hon.  Lord  Hen- 
ley, with  Remarks  on  his  Lordship's  Let- 
ter to  His  Most  Gracious  Majesty  the 
King,  and  on  a  Sequel  to,  and  Observa- 
tions upon  the  same,  by  the  Rev.  Edward 
Burton,  D.D.,  Regius  Professor  of  Di- 
vinity in  the  University  of  Oxford;  to- 
gether with  Hints  for  a  Reform  in  the 
Church,  and  a  general  Commutation  of 
Tithes.  By  Sir  Thomas  Buckler  Leth- 
bridge,  Bart.     2s, 

Calculations  and  Statements  relating  to 
the  Trade  between  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States  of  America.  By  W.  F. 
Reuss.     Royal  8vo.     1/.  \s, 

A  Justification  of  the  Foreign  Policy  of 
Great  Britain  towards  Holland.     8vo.    25. 


188 


Works  recently  pubiished. 


Church  Reform  on  Christian  Principles, 
considered  in  a  Letter  to  the  Lord  Bi&hop 
of  London.  By  Hastings  Robinson,  B.D. 
F.A.S.  Rector  of  Great  Worley,  Essex. 
8vo.     \s,  C)d. 

Hints  for  Church  Reform,  addressed  to 
the  People  of  England.  By  a  country 
Gentleman.     8vo.  1«. 

Self  Defence ;  being  an  Answer  to  a 
publication  entitled,  "  War  against  the 
Church,*'  &c.  By  the  Rev.  William 
Chaplin.     ]2mn.  Sd. 

A  Cry  to  Ireland  and  the  Empire.  By 
an  Irishman,  formerly  Member  of  the 
Royal  College,  Maynooth.    12mo.    45. 6(/. 

A  Letter  to  Lord  Henley  on  his  Plan 
of  Church  Reform.  By  Henry  Frederick 
Stephenson,  late  M.P.  for  Wesibury. 
2s,  6d, 

Reform  Without  Reconstruction,  being 
an  inquiry  into  the  advantages  of  a  safe  and 
practicable  arrangement  for  removing  to  a 
great  extent  inequaliiies  in  the  Tempora- 
lities of  the  EsUblished  Church,  without 
Legislative  interference;  accompanied  with 
a  Plan  for  the  compression  of  tlie  Liturgy 
and  Ritual  of  the  Church  of  England  By 
Uvedale  Price,  M.A.  of  Christ  Church 
Oxford.     8vo.  Is,  6d, 

Remarks  on  the  Prospective  and  Past 
Benefits  of  Cathedral  Institutions  in  the 
Promotion  of  sound  Roli^ioua  Knowledge, 
occasioned  by  Lord  Henley's  Plan  for 
their  Abolition.  By  Edward  Bouverie 
Pusey,  B.D.  Regius  Professor  of  Hebrew, 
Canon  of  Christ  Church,  late  Fellow  of 
Oriel  College,  Oxford.     8vo.  4«. 

Remarks  on  Lord  Henley  and  Dr.  Bur- 
ton on  Church  Reform,  in  a  Letter  to  a 
Member  of  Parliament.  By  a  Churchman. 

8vo.  Is, 

The  Present  Condition  and  Prospects  of 
the  Established  Church,  in  a  Letter  to  Sir 
Robert  Peel,  Bart.  M.P.     By  M.  A.  3s. 

The  Curate's  Plea  ;  or  some  Consider- 
ations respecting  the  Present  Condition  of 


the   Curates  of  the  Church  of  Englaod 
By  L.  L.  B.     8vo.  Is. 

A  Letter  from  Legion  to  his  Grace  the 
Duke  of  Richmond,  &c.,  Chairman  of  the 
Slavery  Committee  of  the  House  of  Lords ; 
containing  an  Exposure  of  the  Character 
of  the  Evidence  on  the  Colonial  side  pro- 
duced before  the  Committee.     8vo.  it. 

THKOLOGT. 

Dissertations  Vindicating  the  Church  of 
England,  with  regard  to  some  essential 
points  of  Polity  and  Doctrine.  By  the 
Rev.  John  Sinclair,  A.M.  of  Pcanbroke 
College,  Oxford,  Fellow  of  the  Royal  So- 
ciety of  Edinburgh,  and  Minister  of  St 
Paul's  Chapel,  Edinburgh.     8vo.   iOs.  6d. 

The  Happiness  of  the  Blessed,  consider- 
ed as  to  the  particulars  of  their  State  ;  their 
Recognition  of  each  other  in  that  State; 
and  its  Difference  of  Degrees.  To  which 
are  added,  Musings  on  the  Church  and  her 
Services.  By  Richard  Maut,  D.D.  Lord 
Bishop  of  Down  and  Connor.  ISmo. 
45.  6^ 

The  Book  of  Psalms,  wherein,  without 
note  or  comment,  the  original  meaning  is 
made  intelligible  to  general  readers,  and  the 
diction  assumes  a  fonn  which,  from  the  days 
of  Milton,  has  been  deemed  most  congenial 
to  sacred  Poetry.  By  the  Rev.  George 
M.  Musgrave,  A.M^  B.N.C.,  Oxoo.  8vo. 

TOPOOEAPHT. 

Sketches  of  Vesuvius,  with  short  ac- 
counts of  its  principal  eruptions,  from  tke 
commencement  of  the  Christian  Era  to  the 
present  time.  By  John  Auldjo,  £u|. 
F.G.S.  &c.  Author  of  **A  Narrative  c^ 
an  Ascent  to  the  Summit  of  Mont  Blanc." 
With  numerous  Plates.    8vo. 

TRAVELS. 

America  and  the  Americans.  By  a 
Citizen  of  the  United  Sutes.     Sto.  ISf. 


ERRATUM. 

The  reader  is  requested  to  correct  an  obvious  error  at  page    107  of  the  present 
Number.     At  line  16,  fjr  1788  read  1688. 


The  Title,   Contents,  and  Index  to  Vol.  VIII.,  have  been  delayed  by  accidenUl 
circumstances,  and  will  be  given  in  the  next  Number. 


THE 


ECLECTIC    REVIEW, 


For  march,  1883. 


Alt.  I.  1.  The  Works  of  Robert  Hall,  AM.  With  a  brief  Memoir 
of  hi8  Life^  by  Dr.  Gr^ory,  and  Observations  on  his  Character  as 
a  Preacher^  by  John  Foster.  Published  under  the  Stiperiiitendenoe 
of  Obnthns  Gregory,  LL.D.  F.R.A.S.,  Professor  of  Mathematics 
in  the  Royal  Mflitary  Academy.  Vol.  VI.  Memoir,  Obwryationa* 
&C.  Semions.  Index.  8va.  pp.  191, 488.  Price  16#.  London^ 
1838. 

2.  Quarterlif  Reviefv.  No.  XCV.  Art.  The  JVorks  of  the  lale  Revert 
HaO. 

a  The  Ckrutian  Observer.  Feb.  1833.  Ait.  The  Life  and  WrUings 
qf  Robert  HaU. 

"l^^E  have,  in  former  Numbers  *^  attempted  a  ^neral  review  of 
Mr.  Hallos  vritings,  and  a  portrait  of  his  mteUectual  cli»- 
ncter.  The  biognq>hical  portion  o£  the  present  volume  will 
lead  ufl  to  contemplate  his  personal  character^  and  the  distinctive 
features  of  his  pul]Ht  eloquence.  We  shall  at  the  same  time  take 
the  fireedom  d  adverting  to  two  articles  which  have  appeared  in 
oontemp<»ary  journals,  containing  strictures  upon  Mr.  Hallos 
diaracter  and  writings,  in  whidi  admiration  of  his  transcendent 
talaita  ia  blended  with  some  portion  of  misapprehensicNfi  and  party 
feeling. 

Tbe^  lamented  death  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh  has  deprived  us 
of  some  interesting  recollections  of  Mr.  Hallos  college  life  and 


years,  and  of  a  philosophical  estimate  and  delineation  of 

hia  literary  attainments  and  intellectual  powers,  such  as  Sir  James 
wa0,  of  all  men  who  knew  him,  the  best  qualified  to  supply. 
But  we  cannot  regret  that  the  biographer's  office  has  devolved 

•  Eel.  Rev.  March,  1832— Art.  I.     May,  1832.— Art.  1 1.     (Vol. 
VII.  Third  Series.) 

VOL.  IX. N.S.  Z 


190  Life  of  Robert  HalL 

upcn  one  whose  confidential  intercourse  with  Mr.  Hall  in  later 
life,  and  entire  harmony  of  religious  sentiment  with  the  subject 
of  his  memoir,  better  fitted  him,  in  other  respects,  to  do  justice 
to  the  moral  and  religious  features  of  his  cnaracter.  Of  Dr. 
Gregory's  very  able  and  interesting  memoir,  occupying  115 
closely  printed  pages,  we  shall  attempt  a  brief  abstract. 

Robert  Hall  was  born  at  Amsby  near  Leicester,  on  the  2d  of 
May,  1764.  His  excellent  father  was  the  Baptist  minister  of  that 
village,  and  his  name  is  well  known  as  the  Author  of  a  valuable 
little  work  entitled,  "  Helps  to  Zion'^s  Travellers,"  which  has 
passed  through  several  editions,  and  sufficiently  attests  his  correct 
judgement  and  solid  piety.  He  died  in  the  year  1791.  Robert, 
though  named  after  his  father,  was  the  youngest  of  fourteen 
children ;  and  while  an  infant,  he  was  so  delicate  and  feeble,  that 
it  was  not  expected  he  would  reach  maturity.  Until  he  was  two 
years  of  age,  he  could  neither  walk  nor  talk  ;  and  he  was  taught 
to  speak  and  to  spell  at  the  same  time,  by  an  intelligent  nurse, 
who,  observing  that  his  attention  was  attracted  to  the  inscriptions 
on  the  grave-stones  of  a  burial  ground  adjacent  to  his  father^s 
house,  adopted  this  singular  expedient  of  tuition.  No  sooner 
was  his  tongue  thus  loosed,  than  his  advance  was  marked.  He 
became  a  rapid  talker  and  an  incessant  questioner ;  and  under  the 
village  dame,  his  thirst  for  knowledge  soon  manifested  itself  in 
his  passion  for  books.  In  the  summer  season,  after  school  hours 
were  over,  he  would  put  his  richly  prized  library  (including  an 
Entick^s  Dictionary)  into  his  pinafore,  and  steal  into  his  first 
school- room,  the  burial-ground,  where,  extended  on  the  grass 
with  his  books  spread  around  him,  he  would  remain  till  the  shades 
of  evening  compelled  him  to  retire  into  the  house.  To  this 
practice,  we  may  trace  with  too  great  probability,  the  origin  of 
that  disease  which  rendered  his  wnole  life  a  conflict  with  physical 
suffering.  ^Hien  only  six  years  of  age,  he  was  placed  as  a  day 
scholar  under  the  charge  of  a  Mr.  Simmons,  who  resided  four 
miles  from  Amsby ;  and  at  first  he  walked  to  school'  in  the 
rooming,  and  back  in  the  evening.  But  the  severe  pain  in  his 
back  from  which  he  suflTered  through  life,  had  even  then  begun  to 
distress  him,  and  to  render  him  incapable  of  the  fatigue  of  walking 
so  far.  He  was  often  obliged  to  lie  down  on  the  road ;  sometimes, 
his  brother  or  one  of  his  school-fellows  would  carry  him.  At 
length,  on  his  father  ascertaining  the  state  of  the  case,  Robert  and 
his  brother  were  placed  under  the  care  of  a  friend  in  the  village, 
spending  the  Sunday  only  at  home.  The  seat  of  Mr.  Ha&s 
disease  was  the  aorta  and  the  kidney  on  the  right  side;  and 
nothing,  we  apprehend,  could  be  more  likely  to  give  rise  to  it, 
than  rheumatic  affections  occasioned  by  his  lying  on  the  rank 
grass  of  a  burial-ground.  The  only  wonder  is  that,  with  his 
feeble  constitution,  he  survived. 


Life  of  Robert  Hall.  191 

*  On  starting  irom  home  on  the  Monday  morning,  Robert  was 
in  the  practice  of  taking  with  him  two  or  three  books  from  his 
father^s  library,  to  read  in  the  interval  between  school  hours. 
His  choice  of  books  at  this  early  age,  was  most  extraordinary. 
The  works  of  Jonathan  Edwards  were  among  his  favourites ;  and 
before  he  was  nine  years  old,  he  had  perused,  and  re-perused, 
with  intense  interest,  the  treatises  of  that  acute  reasoner  upon  the 
^^Kelieious  Affections '',  and  the  "Freedom  of  the  Will"",  as 
also  Bishop  Butler^s  "  Analogy.*^  His  early  predilection  for 
this  class  of  studies  was  in  great  measure  determined  and  fostered 
by  intimate  association,  in  mere  childhood,  with  a  member  of  his 
father^s  congregation,  a  tailor  by  trade,  but  a  very  shrewd,  well- 
informed  man,  and  ^  an  acute  metaphysician/  Before  he  was 
ten  years  old,  our  young  student  had  written  many  essays  on 
religious  subjects,  and  had  occasionally  invited  his  brothers  and 
sisters  to  hear  his  first  attempts  at  preaching ;  and  when  he  was 
only  eleven,  a  friend,  at  whose  house  he  was  spending  a  few 
weeks  for  the  benefit  of  a  change  of  air,  astonished  at  his  pre- 
cocity of  talent,  was  so  indiscreet  as  to  request  him  to  perform, 
more  than  once,  before  a  select  auditory,  invited  to  hear  the  boy- 
preacher  !  *  I  never  call  the  circumstance  to  mind  \  Mr.  Hall 
nas  been  heard  to  say,  '  but  with  grief  at  the  vanity  inspired ; 

*  nor,  when  I  think  of  such  mistakes  of  good  men,  am  I  inclined 

*  to  question  the  correctness  of  Baxter^s  language,  strong  as  it  is, 

*  where  he  says :  **  Nor  should  men  turn  preachers  as  the  river 

*  Nilus  breeds  fi'ogs  (saith  Herodotus),  when  one  half  moveth 
^  before  the  other  is  made^  and  while  it  is  yet  but  plain  mud.*^  ^ 
We  bare  known  instances  of  similar  injudiciousness  in  cases  of 
similar  precocity,  so  far  as  the  gift  of  fluent  speech  was  concerned 
in  the  display;  but  nothing  can  be  more  equivocal  than  the 
promise  afforded  by  such  early  efflorescence.  The  native  vigour 
and  genuine  superiority  of  the  mental  constitution  are  tested  by 
the  manner  in  which  it  comes  out  of  the  fever  of  juvenile  vanity, 
and  gradually  recovers  a  healthful  tone.  In  some,  the  intellectual 
growth  is  stunted  for  life,  and  vanity  becomes  the  chronic  disease 
of  the  character.  In  the  few,  the  temporary  self-elation  operates 
as  a  beneficial  stimulant,  and  sobers  down  into  a  proper  self-con- 
fidence. 

When  young  Robert  was  about  eleven,  Mr.  Simmons  con- 
scientiously informed  the  father,  that  he  was  unable  to  keep  pace 
with  his  pupil,  declaring,  that  he  had  often  been  obliged  to  sit 
up  all  night,  to  prepare  the  lessons  for  the  morning;  a  practice  he 
&it  unable  to  continue !  He  was  in  consequence  of  tnis  candid 
intimation  removed,  and  was  next  placed,  as  a  boarder,  at  the 
school  of  the  Rev.  John  Ryland  of  Northampton,  a  man  whose 
excellencies  and  eccentricities  were  strangely  balanced.  There 
he  remained  for  little  more  than  a  year  and  a  half,  during  which 

z2 


193  Life  of  Robert  HalL 

he  made  considerable  progress  in  Ladn  and  Gredc ;  and  lAer 
passing  some  time  at  home,  in  the  study  of  divinity  and  soma 
collateral  subjects,  under  the  immediate  guidance  of  his  father, 
was,  in  Oct  177^«  placed  at  the  Bristol  academy,  with  a  Tiew  to 
his  being  prepared  for  the  ministerial  office  among  the  Baptiats, 
being  then  in  his  fifteenth  year.  In  that  institution,  as  in  odicn 
of  a  similar  nature,  the  divinity  students  are  appointed  in  ton  to 
deliver  an  address  or  discourse  upon  subjects  selected  by  die 
president.  Mr.  HalFs  first  essay  in  this  exercise  proved  an 
humiliating  failure,  which,  if  avocations  so  unlike  may  be  com- 
pared, reminds  us  of  young  Nelson^s  failure  of  courage  in  the 
first  engagement.     ^  After  proceeding  for  a  short  time,  much  to 

*  the  gratification  of  his  auditory,  he  suddenly  paused,  covered 
^  his  face  with  his  hands,  exclaiming,  '^  Oh  !  I  have  lost  all  my 
^  ideas  %  and  sat  down,  his  hands  still  hiding  his  face.^  A  second 
attempt,  in  the  following  week,  was  attended  by  a  similar  fidhm 
of  self-possession  or  recollection,  still  more  painful  to  witness, 
and  still  more  humiliating.  The  effect  upon  his  own  mind  seems 
to  have  been  that  of  salutary  mortification,  while  his  tutors  an- 
predated  his  talents  too  justly,  to  entertain  any  doubt  of  his 
ability  and  future  success.  Not  long  after,  he  delivered  a  dis* 
course  in  a  village  pulpit,  in  the  presence  of  several  ministen, 
which  excited  the  deepest  interest. 

The  summer  vacation  of  17B0  was  passed  by  young  Hall  un- 
der his  father's  roof,  who,  having  now  become  fiiUy  satisfied  of 
his  son^s  genuine  piety,  as  well  as  of  his  qualifications  for  the  office 
to  which  his  paternal  hopes  had  always  devoted  him  *,  expressed 
to  many  friends,  a  desire  that  he  should  be  '  set  apart  to  the 

*  sacred  work  \  Agreeably  to  his  views  of  popular  ordination, 
he  resolved  that  the  church  of  which  he  was  pastor,  should  judge 


*  The  writer  of  the  Article  in  the  Christian  Observer, '  ean  searotly 
'  understand  how  this  could  comport  with  the  sentiments  of  an  Aiiti« 
'  paedo-baptist  minister ' ;  and  asks,  in  a  note,  '  Can  Dr.  Gregory  tell 
'  us  when,  where,  or  how  Robert  Hall  was  baptized  ?  '  We  may  ven« 
ture  to  answer  this  inquiry,  without  any  specific  knowledge  of  the 
circumstances :  by  immersion,  probably  at  Arnsby,  and  certainly  prior 
to  his  being  admitted  as  a  communicant  by  '  the  church '  whicn  sub- 
sequently recognised  its  youthful  member  as  fit  to  discharge  the  func- 
tion of  a  public  teacher.  It  is  strange  that  this  Writer  snould  be  so 
unacquainted  with  the  sentiments  of  Anti-paedo-baptists  as  not  to 
know,  that  baptism  is  universally  regarded  as  a  pre-requisfte  to  par- 
taking of  the  Lord*s  Supper,  and  that  it  is  administered  to  the  adnh 
on  his  public  confession  of  faith.  In  what  respect  this  view  of  the 
baptismal  ordinance  could  interfere  with  the  pious  father's  wishes  re- 
specting  his  son,  and  his  resolution  to  educate  him  for  the  ministry,  we 
can  *  scarcely  understand '. 


Lifi  of  Robert  Hntt.  193 

of  hiff  ion^s  fitness  for  the  sacred  fiinctbn,  and  recognise  theit 
conriction  by  a  solemn  act. 


«   €€ 


Accordingly  *\  as  the  following  extract  from  the  Church-hook 
testifies,  on  the  13th  of  August,  1780,  ''he  was  examined  by  his 
&ther  before  the  church,  respecting  his  inclination,  motives,  ana  end 
in  reference  to  the  ministry,  and  was  likewise  desired  to  make  a  de- 
claration of  his  religious  sentiments.  All  which  being  done  to  the  en- 
tire satisfaction  of  the  church,  they  therefore  set  him  apart,  by  lifting 
np  their  right  hands,  and  by  solemn  prayer.  His  father  then  delivered 
a  discourse  to  him,  from  2  Tim.  ii.  I.  Thou,  therefore,  my  son,  be 
strong  in  the  grace  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  Being  thus  sent  forth,  he 
preaoied  in  the  afternoon  from  2  Thes.  i.  7>  B.  May  the  Lord  bless 
nim,  and  grant  him  great  success  ! "  '     p.  9. 

It  ^  sadly  baffles  the  notions  ^  of  persons  accustomed  to  the 
mode  and  rules  of  episcopal  ordination,  to  find  a  mere  boy  of  six- 
teen thus  brought  forward  as  a  public  instructor,  and  then,  almost 
immediately  afterwards,  sent  as  a  pupil  to  college.  To  such  per- 
sons, it  seems  better  that  the  order  of  proceedings  had  been  re- 
versed. That  is  to  say,  they  would  deem  it  better,  that  a  young 
man  shonid  complete  his  academical  training,  before  the  point  is 
ascertained  and  certified,  that  he  possesses  the  grand  and  most 
indispensable  qualification  for  the  sacred  office — piety.  We  can- 
not say  that  such  is  our  opinion.  Without  undertaking  to  decide, 
whether  a  pious  boy  of  sixteen  or  an  irreligious  man  of  three  and 
twenty  is  fitter  to  ascend  the  pulpit,  we  must  think  that  it  is  the 
safisr  plan,  to  select  a  pious  youth  as  a  candidate  for  the  ministry, 
mad,  after  a  certain  measure  of  religious  training  and  probation, 
to  send  him  to  college,  than  to  bestow  the  college  education  first, 
and  ascertain  the  moral  fitness  afterwards.  We  are  very  far  from 
wishing  to  countenance  boy-preachers ;  but  we  cannot  help  re* 
marking,  that  if  a  lad  of  sixteen  is  deemed  capable  of  intelligently 
siibscribhig  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  it  ought  not  to  be  thought 
so  very  preposterous,  that  he  should  be  qualified  to  deliver  a  re- 
ligious oiscourse  as  a  probationary  specimen  of  his  attainments 
aoid  piety.  That  young  Hall  was  not,  by  this  solemn  recognition 
of  his  fitness  for  the  sacred  function,  invested  with  the  character 
of  a  public  instructor,  is  evident  from  the  circumstances  of  the 
case.  He  was  still  a  student  at  the  Bristol  Academy,  to  which 
he  returned  at  the  close  of  the  vacation ;  and  in  the  autumn  of 
I78I,  he  was  sent  to  Aberdeen,  to  complete  his  theological  edu- 
cation at  Ring^s  College,  on  Dr.  Ward's  foundation.  In  fact, 
the  object  of  the  appeal  to  the  church,  and  the  bearing  of  its  de- 
cision, related  to  the  expediency  of  his  prosecuting  his  studies 
with  a  view  to  his  becoming  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  Dr.  Gre- 
gocy  does  not  employ  the  word  ordination  in  mentioning  this 
'  public  designation  "*  of  Mr.  Hall  as  a  preacher ;  nor  should  we 


194  Life  of  Robert  HaU. 

contend  for  the  propriety  of  using  that  term  in  siicli  a  refierenoe; 
since  ordination  is  generally  understood  as  an  appointment  to  a 
specific  charge.  But,  dismissing  that  word  from  considermtioni 
with  all  the  polemical  associations  that  it  suggests,  we  would  ask, 
what  was  there  in  the  proceeding  here  narrated,  that  could  have 
any  tendency  to  inflate  the  mind  of  a  pious  youth  with  self-im- 
portance, or  that  could  be  deemed,  in  any  respect,  offensive,  in- 
judicious, or  *  perilous  ^  ? 

Mr.  Hall  entered  Eing^s  College  in  the  beginning  of  Novem- 
ber, I78I.  His  first  year  was  spent  principally,  under  the  tuition 
of  Professor  Leslie,  in  the  study  of  the  Greek  language ;  his  se- 
cond, third,  and  fourth  years,  under  Professor  Madeod,  in  the 
study  of  mathematics,  natural  philosophy,  and  moral  philosophy. 
Here  it  was  that  he  first  became  acquainted  with  his  eminent 
friend  Mackintosh;  and  some  interesting  particulars  of  their 
friendship  and  joint  studies  have  been  gathered  by  his  Biof^pher 
from  Sir  James  himself,  of  which  we  nave  in  part  aviuled  our- 
selves in  our  last  Number  *•  While  he  was  still  at  Aberdeen, 
he  received  from  the  Baptist  Church  at  Broadmead,  Bristol,  an 
invitation  to  become  their  assistant  pastor ;  *  an  invitation  whidi 
^  he  accepted  with  much  doubt  and  diffidence  \  on  the  understand- 
ing that  it  should  not  interfere  with  the  completion  of  his  course 
of  studies.  He  accordingly  passed  the  interval  between  the  col- 
lege sessions  of  1784  and  1785,  at  Bristol ;  and  then  returned  to 
Aberdeen,  where  he  took  his  degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  March 
SO,  1785.  On  resuming  his  labours  at  Broadmead,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  Dr.  Evans,  his  preaching  excited  unusual  attention. 

*  The  place  of  worship  was  often  crowded  to  excess,  and  many  of 
\  the  most  distinguished  men  in  Bristol,  including  several  clergy- 

*  men,  were  among  his  occasional  auditors.^  -f  In  August  of  the 
same  year,  only  three  months  after  his  quitting  Aberdeen,  he  was 
appointed  classical  tutor  in  the  Bristol  AcademV)  on  the  resigpi- 
ation  of  the  Rev.  James  Newton.  This  office  tie  held  for  more 
than  five  years,  discharging  its  duties  with  honourable  seal  and 
activity. 

At  this  period  of  his  life,  however,  Mr.  Hall  appears  to  have  been 

*  Eclectic  Review,  Feb.    Art.  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  p.  98. 

t  We  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  our  surprise  and  r^^t,  that 
the  Reviewer  in  the  Christian  Observer  should  have  taken  occasion 
from  this  circumstance  to  introduce  a  homily  against  clergymen  wan- 
dering after  a  popular  (i.  e.  Dissenting)  preacher.  Does  nc  mean  to 
say,  that  clergymen  did  wrong  in  occasionally  going  to  hear  Mr.  Hall 
preach  ?  If  so,  we  pity  his  contemptible  bigotry.  If  not,  his  anec- 
dote is  at  all  events  irrelevant  and  mal  a  propos.  Is  there  no  difference 
between  venturing  into  a  licensed  chapel  to  near  such  a  man,  and  mn« 
ning  after  a  mountebank  ? 


Life  of  Robert  Hall.  195 

in  iinniinent  danger  of  making  shipwreck,  if  not  of  faith,  of  the 
spirit  of  piety.  The  free  and  daring  speculations  which  he  ad- 
vanced in  private,  grieved  and  alarmed  his  judicious  friends,  aU 
though  he  never  promulgated  direct  and  positive  error  fi'om  the 
pulpit ;  and  his  conversational  sallies  were  occasionally  marked 
Dy  a  vehemence  and  extravagance  of  expression,  a  bitterness  of 
sarcasm,  and  a  characteristic  imprudence,  which  made  him  many 
enemies.  Admired  as  a  preacher,  courted  as  a  companion,  feared 
as  a  satirist,  looked  up  to  as  a  tutor,  while  scarcely  one-and- 
twenty,  the  only  cause  for  astonishment  is,  that,  in  the  intoxication 
of  intellectual  pride,  he  never  relaxed  his  hold  of  the  main  doc- 
trines of  the  Gospel,  nor  was  betrayed  by  youthful  impetuosity 
into  flagrant  inconsistency.  We  may,  perhaps,  be  justified  in 
concluding,  that  the  strength  of  his  reasoning  faculties  and  the 
solidity  of  his  attainments,  preserved  him  in  some  degree  against 
the  vague  and  shallow  scepticism  of  the  half-learned  and  the 
half-reasoning.  But  we  must  believe  at  the  same  time,  that  he 
was  imheld,  at  this  critical  period,  by  a  sovereign  and  almighty 
superintendence ;  and  that  the  prayers  of  his  aged  friends  were 
a  more  effectual  means  of  his  safety,  than  his  own  strength  of 
mind  or  of  principle.  There  is  something  at  once  touching  and 
instructive  m  the  brief  and  expressive  remarks  which  Dr.  Gre- 
gory has  transcribed  from  the  private  diaries  of  two  of  his  con- 
stant friends,  in  reference  to  this  period  of  Mr.  Hallos  career. 
The  first  two  are  from  Mr.  FuUer^s  diary. 

'  1784,  May  7.  Heard  Mr.  Robert  Hall,  jun.  from  "  He  that  in- 
creaaeth  knowledge  increaseth  sorrow."  Felt  very  solemn  in  hearing 
some  parts.     The  Lord  keep  that  young  man  !' 

'  I785.  June  14.  Taken  up  with  the  company  of  Mr.  Robert 
Hall,  jun.: — feel  much  pain  for  him.  The  Lord,  in  mercy  to  him 
and  Ills  churches  in  this  country,  keep  him  in  the  path  of  truth  and 
righteousness ! ' 

The  following  are  found  in  Dr.  Ryland'^s  journal. 

'  June  8,  1785.  Robert  Hall,  jun.  preached  wonderfully  from  Rom. 
viii.  18.  I  admire  many  things  in  this  young  man  exceedingly,  though 
there  are  others  that  make  me  fear  for  him.  O  that  the  Lord  may 
keep  him  humble  and  make  him  prudent ! 

'June  15.  Rode  to  Clipston  to  attend  the  ministers'  meeting. 
R.  Hall,  jun.  preached  a  glorious  sermon  on  the  immutability  of  God, 
from  James  i.  17- 

*  1786,  June  13.  Sent  off  a  letter  to  Robert  Hall,  jun.,  which  I 
wrote  chiefly  in  answer  to  one  of  his  some  months  ago,  wherein  he  re- 
plied to  mine  concerning  some  disagreeable  reports  from  Birmingham : 
added  some  new  hints  respecting  another  matter  lately  reported.  O 
that  God  may  keep  that  young  man  in  the  way  of  truth  and  holi- 
ness!' 

In  1790,  Mr.  Hall  received  an  invitation  from  the  Baptist 


196  U^  of  RAert  HaU. 

congrention  at  Cambridge^  recently  depriiFed  of  their  pastor  by 
Uie  sudden  death  of  Mr.  Robinson,  to  preach  to  them  for  a 
month  ;  and  in  July  oi  the  following  year,  he  was  inrited  to  as- 
sume the  pastoral  charge,  which  be  accepted.  Circumstances 
had  occurred  at  Bristol,  which  rendered  his  longer  continuance 
there  alike  unpleasant  and  undesirable.  Nothing  could  be  more 
flattering  to  a  young  pulpit  orator,  than  to  be  deemed  a  fit  suc- 
cessor to  the  most  fascinating  preadber  of  the  day,  whom  he  had 
at  one  time  resolved  to  make  nis  model,  but  had  now,  perhaps, 
been  led  to  regard  as  a  beacon.  The  post,  boweyer,  which  he 
was  called  to  occupy,  was  difficult  and  perilous.  His  unhappy 
predecessor  had  thickly  sown  the  diurch  with  the  seeds  of  hereqr 
and  irreligion,  although  the  poorer  members  still  maintained  their 
attachment  to  the  fundam^ital  doctrines  of  Revelation.  Mr. 
Hall  was  indebted  to  bis  very  moderate  orthodoxy,  for  the  invi- 
tation he  recdved ;  and  it  might  have  been  feared,  that  he  was 
more  likely  to  suffer  a  deterioration  of  his  own  religious  feelings, 
than  to  reclaim  his  auditory  from  laxity  of  sentiment  and  levity 
of  conduct  He  has  himself  forcibly  described,  in  his  Memoir 
of  Mr.  Tolla*,  the  perils  of  so  un&vourable  a  position.  ^  If^^  be 
remarks,  'in  a  lengthened  ministerial  course,  tbe  people  are 
'  usually  formed  by  their  pastor,  in  the  first  sti^e  it  is  the  re- 
^  verse:  it  is  the  people  who  form  the  minister.  The  reciprocal 
'  influence  of  a  minister  and  a  congr^atioB  on  each  other  is  so  iiK 
'  cessant  and  so  powerfol,  that  I  womd  earnestly  cfasnade  an  in- 
'  experienced  youth  firom  connecting  himself  with  a  people  whose 
'  doctrine  is  erroneous,  or  whose  piety  is  doubtful,  lest  be  should 
*  be  temnted  to  consult  his  ease,  by  choosing  to  yield  ta  a  cunem 
'  be  would  find  it  difficult  to  resist''*  In  Mr.  HalTs  case,  the 
result  exhibited  the  genuine  force  of  his  character  and  the  deci- 
sion of  his  principles,  as  well  as  illustrated  that  providential  guid- 
ance which  had  hitherto  kept  him  from  falling.  The  iaSh  of 
his  father,  in  March  I79I9  had  greatly  toided  to  being  bis  mind 
to  the  state  of  serious  thought  with  which  he  entered  xqfxm  the 
pastoral  office. 

'  Meditating  with  the  deepest  veneration  upon  the  mrasual  exod- 
lencies  of  a  parent  now  for  ever  lost  to  him^  he  was  led  to  investigate 
with  renewed  earnestness,  tbe  truth  as  w^  as  value  of  those  high  and 
sacred  principles  from  which  his  eminent  piety  and  admirable  con- 
sistency so  evidently  flowed.  He  called  to  mindC  too^  several  occasions 
on  which  his  lather^  partly  by  the  force  of  reason,  par^  by  that  of 
tender  expestnlatien,  had  exhorted  him  to  abandon  the  vagae  and  dsn- 
eeroas  specalations  to  whkh  he  was  prone.  Some  important  dianees 
in  Mr.  Hairs  sentiments,  resnhed  trom  an  inquiry  conducted  nnror 
8«ch  solemn  impressions ;  and  among  these  may  be  mentioned  his  re- 

•  Works.  Vol.  IV.  p.  310. 


Xt/e  of  Robert  Hall.  197 

BnocMitioii  of  materiaiism,  which^  he  often  declared^  he  *'  buried  in  his 
father's  grave."* 

'  Attentive  to  the  voice  of  heavenly  admonition^  thus  addressing 
him  from  various  quarters^  he  entered  upon  his  new  duties  with  earnest 
denies  that  he  might  be  able  to  "  commend  himself  to  every  man's 
oonsdenoe  in  the  sisht  of  God.*'  Feeling  that  to  him  was  consigned 
the  charge  of  transtorming,  with  God's  assistance,  a  cold  and  sterile 
sml  into  a  fruitful  field,  he  determined  not  to  satisfy  himself  with  half 
measures^  but  proceeded  to  expose  error,  and  to  defend  what  he  re« 
sarded  as  essential  truth.  The  first  sermon,  therefore,  which  he  de- 
uvered  at  Cambridge,  after  he  had  assumed  the  office  of  pastor,  was 
«o  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement  and  its  practical  tendencies.  Imme« 
^tely  after  the  conclusion  of  the  service,  one  of  the  congregation, 
who  had  followed  poor  Mr.  Robinson  through  all  his  changes  of  senti- 
Bient,  went  into  the  vestry,  and  said : — ^*  Mr.  Hall,  this  preaching 
won't  do  for  us :  it  will  onlv  suit  a  congregation  of  old  women."  "  Do 
you  mean  my  sermon.  Sir,  or  the  doctrine  ?"  "  Your  doctrine." 
**  Why  is  it  tnat  the  doctrine  is  fit  only  for  old  women  ?  "  '^  Because 
it  may  suit  the  musings  of  people  tottering  upon  the  brink  of  the 
grave,  and  who  are  eagerly  seekm^  comfort."  ''  Thank  you.  Sir,  for 
your  concession.  The  doctrine  will  not  suit  people  of  any  age,  unless 
It  be  true;  and  if  it  be  true,  it  is  not  fitted  for  old  women  uone,  but 
IB  equally  important  at  every  age." '     pp.  30,  31. 

This  individual,  and  three  or  four  other  men  of  influence,  with 
about  twenty  of  the  poorer  class,  shortly  afterwards  withdrew  from 
the  congregation,  and  assembled  for  a  few  months  on  the  Sunday 
evenings  at  a  private  house,    where  ^the  then  Rev.  William 

*  Frend,  fellow  and  tutor  of  Jesus  College,  an  avowed  Socinian, 

*  became  their  instructor.^  But  the  conviction  of  their  host  for 
sedition,  and  the  expulsion  of  their  teacher  from  the  University, 
soon  dispei^sed  this  band  of  seceders,  the  dregs  of  poor  Robinson^s 
heretical  ministry. 

Mr.  HalPs  ministerial  labours  were  beginning  to  be  blessed 
with  the  happiest  results,  when,  in  an  evil  hour,  as  he  himself  re- 
garded it,  he  complied  with  the  urgent  solicitations  of  his  friends, 
in  appearing  before  the  public  as  a  political  writer.  So  far  as  the 
urgency  of  the  occasion,  the  patriotism  of  the  motive,  and  the 
usefulness  of  the  result  would  warrant  the  temporary  deviation 
from  the  immediate  sphere  of  his  duties,  Mr.  HalFs  conduct  in 
this  instance  lies  open  to  no  just  reproach ;  but  the  inconveni- 
ences of  poUtical  celebrity  led  him  subsequently  to  recede,  *  not 

*  He  had  always  considered  materialism,  he  tells  his  Bristol  friends, 
as  '  a  mere  metaphysical  speculation,'  and  wished  them  so  to  consider 
it.  But  such  mere  metaphysical  speculations,  putting  aside  their  un« 
scriptural  character,  are  almost  sure  either  to  wither  and  dry  up  the 
affections,  or  to  be  swept  away  by  the  first  spring-tide  of  genuine  emo- 
tion. 

VOL.  IX. N.Si.  A  A 


198  Life  of  Robert  Hall. 

*  from  his  principles,  but  from  the  (urtlier  advocacy  of  them  in 
^  public.'^  He  became  convinced,  to  adopt  his  own  words,  *  that 
^  the  Christian  ministry  is  in  danger  of  losing  something  of  its 
'  energy  and  sanctity,  by  embarking  in  the  stormy  element  of  po- 

*  litical  debate.''     Having  elsewhere  noticed  at  length  Mr.  Hairs 

folitical  writings  *,  we  need  only  remark,  that,  from  the  year 
793,  when  the  Apology  for  the  Freedom  of  the  Press  first  ap- 
peared, Mr.  Hall  remained  silent  for  nearly  eight  years,  when  he 
electrified  the  public  with  his  Sermon  on  Modem  Infidelity; 
which  was  followed,  in  1802,  by  his  Reflections  on  War,  and  in 
1803,  by  his  Fast-Day  Sermon  on  the  Sentiments  proper  to  the 
present  Crisis.     An  interesting  portrait  of  his  character  at  this 

Seriod  of  his  ministry,  has  been  supplied  by  a  gentleman  who 
ad  the  most  favourable  opportunities,  as  well  as  the  requisite 
discrimination,  for  forming  a  correct  estimate. 


<  tt 


I  had  but  a  slight  acquaintance  with  Robert  Hall  from  1790  to 
1 79.3 ;  from  thence  to  the  end  of  1796^  1  knew  him  intimatel v.  At  that 
period,  his  creed  was  imperfect,  wanting  on  the  personality  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  wavcrinp  between  the  terrors  or  Calvin^  and  the 
plausibilities  of  Baxter.  His  infirmities,  which  were  increasing,  he 
concealed  with  dexterity,  opposed  with  vigour,  and  sustained  with  mi- 
common  patience.  In  his  ministerial  situation,  he  was  far  from  easy; 
and  he  was  vehemently  severe  upon  Robinson,  for  leaving  his  church  a 
wilderness,  and  bequeathing  his  successor  a  bed  of  thorns. 

' ''  His  religious  conversation  in  company  was  not  frequent^  and  for 
the  most  part  doctrinal ;  but  in  private,  his  experimental  communica- 
tions were,  in  bcauty>  elevation,  and  compass,  beyond  all  I  ever  heard. 
The  memory  of  a  man  of  seventy-three  will  not  afford  particalan; 
and  the  general  impression  can  neither  be  obliterated  nor  expressed. 

'  "  lu  his  manners,  he  was  a  close  imitator  of  Diw  Johnson  t ;  fond 
of  tea-table  talk,  and  of  the  society  of  cultivated  females,  who  had 
the  taste  to  lend  him  an  ear,  and  the  ability  requisite  to  make  atten- 
tion a  favour.  lie  has  confessed  to  me,  the  taking  thirty  cups  of  tea 
in  an  afternoon  ;  and  told  me,  his  method  was,  to  visit  four  fiunilies, 
and  drink  seven  or  eight  cups  at  each. 

'  ^'  He  knew,  as  well  as  any  man,  what  bad  men  were,  and  what 
good  men  should  be ;  yet  was  often  wrong  in  his  judgement  of  indi- 
viduals. From  this  deiiciency  in  the  knowledge  of  mankind,  he  some- 
times trusted  his  false,  and  abused  his  true  friends :  when  he  per- 
ceived his  error,  he  changed  his  conduct ;  but,  I  suspect,  very  seldom 
confessed  his  mistake. 

'  '*  He  did  not,  then,  read  much  :  but  was  probably  more  hindered 


♦  Edect.  Rev.     Third  Scries.     Vol.  VII.  p.  399,  cf  scq. 

t  This  will  convey  a  false  impression.  Mt,  Hall  wvm  extremely 
courteous ;  Johnson  afiVKited  rudeness,  and  was  unbearably  insolent 
Mr.  Hall  was  vehement ;  Johnson  was  dogmatical.  Diogenes  and 
Plato  were  scarcely  more  dissimilar  in  character. 


Life  of  Robert  Hall.  199 

by  pain  than  by  indolence.  A  page,  indeed,  was  to  him  more  ser-* 
viceable  than  a  volume  to  many.  Hints  from  reading  or  discourse, 
passing  through  his  great  mind,  expanded  into  treatises  and  systems, 
until  the  adopted  was  lost  in  the  begotten  ;  so  much  so,  that  the  whole 
appeared  original.  I  am  persuaded,  however,  that  when  I  knew  him, 
he  had  not  by  many  degrees  attained  his  meridian,  I  should  regret 
my  incapacity  to  do  him  justice,  were  I  not  persuaded  that  only  the 
bud  was  exhibited  to  me,  while  the  bloom  and  the  fruit  were  reserved 
iqx  those  more  deserving  to  be  happy." '     pp.  37,  38. 

His  present  Biographer  was  first  introduced  to  Mr.  HalPs  ac- 
quaintance in  1797 »  ^^om  which  period,  for  many  years,  he  wa« 
admitted  to  the  privacy  of  his  studvy  besides  having  frequent  op- 
portunities of  enjoying  his  society  in  the  company  of  his  friends, 
Dr.  Gregory  has  supplied  an  exceedingly  distinct,  graphic,  and 
interesting  description  of  Mr.  Hairs  character,  habits,  aqd  pur- 
suits at  this  stage  of  his  career,  with  anecdotes  of  his  convers- 
ational remarks,  which  will  excite  regret  that  more  have  not  been 
preserved  *.     We  can  make  room  only  for  a  few  extracts. 

'  For  some  years,  he  made  it  a  rule  to  pay  a  pastoral  visit  to  every 
member  of  his  church,  once  each  quarter.  He  did  the  same,  also,  wita 
r^ard  to  jsuch  of  his  ordinary  hearers  as  he  thought  willing  to  receive 
him  as  a  minister  of  religion.  These  were  not  calls,  but  msits,  and 
usually  paid  on  evenings,  that  he  might  meet  the  whole  assembled 
family.  Among  the  lower  classes,  to  make  them  quite  at  their  ease, 
he  would  sit  down  with  them  at  supper ;  and,  that  this  might  involve 
them  in  no  extra  expense,  he  took  care  they  should  all  know  that  he 
preferred  a  bason  of  milk. 

'  He  persuaded  the  poorer  members  of  his  church  to  form  little 
meetings,  for  reading,  religious  conversation,  and  prayer,  going  "  from 
house  to  house."  llicse  were  held  once  a  fortnight,  I  tbiidc,  in  the 
summer  time :  once  a  week  during  the  winter.  He  made  it  a  point  if 
oliicial  duty  to  attend  them  frequently;  and  regarded  them,  with  the 
weekly  meetings  in  the  vestry,  as  the  best  thermometer  for  ascertain- 
ing the  religious  state  of  his  people. 

'  Proceeding  thus,  it  was  not  surprising  that  he  conciliated  the  af- 
fections of  his  friends,  and  secured  the  veneration  of  the  pious ;  that 
he  extended  around  him  a  growing  conviction  of  his  excellency,  and 
carried  on  many  in  the  stream  of  hjs  mental  and  moral  power. 

'  In  him,  all  was  at  the  utmost  remove  from  gloom  or  moroseness. 
£ven  the  raillery  in  which  he  indulged,  shewed  his  good-nature,  and 
was  exceedingly  playful ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  avowed  and  jiar 
mented  impetuosity  in  argument  to  which  he  was  prone,  nothing,  so 
fiir  as  I  ever  saw,  but  conceit,  engrafted  upon  stupidity,  provoked  his 
impatience,  and  called  forth  a  severity  which  he  scarcely  knew  how  to 
restrain.  With  regard  to  disposition,  the  predominant  featvues  were 
kindness  and  cheerfulness.     He  never  deliberately  gave  p^i^i  t9  any 


*  The  only  one  we  could  wish  omitted,  oecucs  ia  the  aote  at  p.  42* 

A  a2 


200  Life  of  Robwt  HaU. 

one^  except  in  those  few  extreme  cases^  where  there  appeared  a  moral 
necessity  of  ''  rebuking  sharply  "  for  the  good  of  the  offender.  His 
kindness  to  children^  to  servants^  to  the  indigent,  nay>  to  anim&la,  was 
uniformly  manifest.  And  such  was  his  prevailing  cheerfulnesa^  that 
he  seemecl  to  move  and  breathe  in  an  atmosphere  of  hilarity^  which, 
indeed^  his  countenance  always  indicated^  except  when  the  uain  in  hit 
back  affected  his  spirits,  and  caused  his  imagination  to  dwell  upon  the 
evils  of  Cambridgeshire  scenery.*     pp.  40,  41. 

'  When  I  first  became  known  to  Mr.  Hall,  he  had  recently  deter- 
mined to  revise  and  extend  his  knowledge  in  every  department,  **  to 
re-arrange  the  whole  furniture  of  his  mind,  and  the  economy  of  his 
habits,"  and  to  become  a  thorough  student  He  propoaea  devot- 
ing six  hours  a  day  to  reading ;  but  these,  unless  his  mends  aongfat 
after  him,  were  often  extended  to  eight  or  nine.  He  thought  himself 
especially  defective  in  a  tasteful  and  critical  acquaintance  with  the 
Greek  poets ;  and  said,  he  should  *^  once  more  begin  at  the  beginning." 
He  set  to  work,  therefore,  upon  the  best  treatises  on  the  Greek  metres 
then  extant.  He  next  read  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  twice  over,  criti- 
cally ;  proceeded  with  equal  care  through  nearly  all  the  tragedies  of 
Sophocles  and  Euripides ;  and  thence  extended  his  classical  reading  in 
all  directions.  To  the  Latin  and  Greek  poets,  orators,  historians,  and 
philosophers,  he  devoted  a  part  of  every  day  for  three  or  four  years. 
He  studied  them  as  a  scholar,  but  he  studied  them  also  as  a  moralift 
and  a  philosopher ;  so  that,  while  he  appreciated  their  peculiarities 
and  beauties  with  his  wonted  taste,  and  carefully  improvedfhis  style  of 
writing  and  his  tone  of  thinking,  by  the  best  models  which  they  pre- 
sent, he  suffered  them  not  to  deteriorate  the  accuracy  of  his  Judgement 
in  comparing  their  value  with  that  of  tlie  modems.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, this  assertion  should  be  a  little  qualified :  for  not  only  at  the  pe- 
riod of  which  I  am  now  speaking,  but,  in  great  measure,  through  life, 
while  he  spoke  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  poetry,  in  accordance  with  the 
sentiments  and  feelings  of  every  competent  classical  schoIaTj  he,  witii 
very  few  exceptions,  unduly  depreciated  the  poetry  of  the  present 
times. 

'  Much  as  he  delighted  in  classical  literature,  he  was  by  no  means 
inclined,  nor  could  he  have  reconciled  it  with  his  notions  of  du^,  to 
circumscribe  his  reading  within  its  limits.  The  early  Christian  fatners, 
the  fathers  of  the  Reformation,  the  theological  writers,  both  puritan 
and  episcopalian,  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the  most  yaluable  au- 
thors on  all  similar  topics  down  to  the  present  time,  including  the 
most  esteemed  French  preachers,  were  all  perused  with  his  character- 
istic avidity :  what  was  most  valuable  in  them  became  fixed  in  his  un- 
usually retentive  memory ;  and  numerous  marginal  and  other  refer- 
ences in  the  most  valuable  of  his  books,  prove  at  once  the  minuteness 
and  closeness  of  his  attention,  and  his  desire  to  direct  his  memory  to 
the  substances  of  thought,  and  not  unnecessarily  to  load  it  with  mere 
apparatus. 

'  Like  many  other  men  of  letters,  Mr.  Hall,  at  this  period,  found 
the  advantage  of  passing  from  one  subject  to  another  at  short  in- 
tervals, generally  of  about  two  hours :  thus  casting  off  the  mental 
fetigue  that  one  subject  had  occasioned,  by  directing  his  attention  to 


Life  of  Robert  HaU.  201 

another^  and  thereby  preserving  the  intellect  in  a  state  of  elastic  energy 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  time  devoted  daily  to  study. 

'  Not  long  after  he  had  entered  upon  this  steady  course  of  reading, 
be  commenced  the  study  of  Hebrew^  under  Mr.  Lyons^  who  then 
taught  that  language  in  the  University.  He  soon  became  a  thorough 
proficient  in  it ;  and,  finding  it  greatly  to  increase  his  knowledge  of 
the  Old  Testament,  as  well  as  of  its  relation  to  the  New,  and  considerably 
to  improve  and  enlarge  the  power  of  Scripture  interpretation^  he,  from 
thenoe  to  the  close  of  life,  suffered  scarcely  a  day  to  pass  without 
reading  a  portion  of  the  Old  Testament  in  the  original.  This  practice 
flowed  naturally  from  one  of  his  principles  of  action^  namely^  to  go  to 
the  fountain-head  for  information,  rather  than  to  derive  it  from  the 
streams ;  and  ftom  the  continued  application  of  that  principle,  it  was 
found,  that  his  habit  of  reading  originals  often  impaired  the  accuracy 
of  bis  quotation  of  passages  from  our  authorised  version,  having,  in  fact, 
become  more  familiar  with  the  Hebrew  and  Greek  texts  than  with  any 
translation.  This,  which  was  often  conjectured  by  some  of  his  hearers 
at  Cambridge,  was  amply  confirmed  by  the  subsequent  observation  of 
bis  intimate  and  much  esteemed  friend  Mr.  Ryley,  at  Leicester.' 

pp.  43,  44. 

'  Mr.  Hall  did  not  permit  his  sedulous  cultivation  of  the  mind  to 
draw  him  aside  from  the  cultivation  of  the  heart.  The  evidences 
were,  indeed,  very  strong,  that  his  preparation  for  ministerial  duty 
was  devotional  as  well  as  intellectuah  Thus,  his  public  services,  by  a 
striking  mdation,  for  months  and  years,  evinced  an  obvious  growth, 
in  mental  power,  in  literary  acquisition,  and  in  the  seriousness,  affec- 
tion, and  ardour  of  a  man  of  piety.  His  usefulness  and  his  popularity 
increased;  the  church  and  congregation  became  considerably  aug- 
mented ;  and  in  1 798,  it  was  found  necessary  to  enlarge  the  place  of 
worship,  to  accommodate  about  two  hundred  more  persons. 

'  Early  in  the  year  1799,  a  severe  fever,  which  brought  him,  in  his 
own  apprehension,  and  that  of  his  friends,  to  the  brink  of  the  grave, 
gave  him  an  opportunity  of  experiencing  the  support  yielded  by  the 
doctrines  of  the  cross  "  in  the  near  views  of  death  ancl  judgement." 
He  "  never  before  felt  his  mind  so  calm  and  happy."  The  impression 
was  not  only  salutary,  but  abiding ;  and  it  again  prompted  him  to  the 
investigation  of  one  or  two  points,  with  r^ard  to  which  he  had  long 
felt  himself  floating  in  uncertainty.  Although  he  had  for  some  years 
steadily  and  earnestly  enforced  the  necessity  of  divine  influence  in  the 
transformation  of  character,  and  in  perseverance  in  a  course  of  con- 
sistent, holy,  obedience,  yet  he  spoke  of  it  as  ''  the  influence  of  the 
spirit  of  God,"  and  never  in  express  terms,  as  *'  the  influence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit."  The  reason  was,  that  though  he  fully  believed  the 
necessity  of  spiritual  agency  in  commencing  and  continuing  the  spi- 
ritual life,  he  doubted  the  doctrine  of  the  distinct  personality  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  But  about  this  time,  he  was  struck  with  the  fact,  that, 
whenever  in  private  prayer  he  was  in  the  most  deeply  devotional 
frame,  ''most  overwhelmed  with  the  sense  that  he  was  nothing,  and 
God  was  all  in  all,"  he  always  felt  himself  inclined  to  adopt  a  tri- 
nitarian  doxology.  This  circumstance,  occurring  frequently,  and  more 
frequently  meditated  upon  in  a  tone  of  honest  and  anxious  inquiry. 


202  Uf9  of  Robert  Hall 

issued  at  length  in  a  persuasion  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is  really  and 
truly  God^  and  not  an  emanation.  It  was  not^  however^  until  1800, 
that  he  publicly  included  the  personality  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  his 
statements  of  the  doctrine  of  spiritual  influence.' 

'  His  prayers  were  remarkable  for  their  simplicity  and  their  devo- 
tional feeling.  No  person  could  listen  to  them  without  being  per* 
suaded,  that  he  who  uttered  them  was  really  engaged  in  prayer,  was 
holding  communion  with  his  God  and  Father  in  Christ  Jeaus*  Hit 
tones  and  his  countenance  throughout  these  exercises,  were  tboae  <if 
one  most  deeply  imbued  with  a  sense  of  his  unworthiness,  and  throir- 
ing  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  Great  Eternal,  conscious  that  he  ooaU 
present  no  claim  for  a  single  blessing,  but  the  blood  of  atonement,  yet 
animated  by  the  cheering  hope  thBt  the  voice  of  that  blood  would 
prevail.  The  structure  of  these  prayers  never  indicated  any  preeon* 
ceived  plan.  They  were  the  genuine  effusions  of  a  truly  oevotional 
spirit,  animated  by  a  vivid  recollection  of  what,  in  his  own  state,  in 
tnat  of  the  congregation,  of  the  town  and  vicinity,  needed  most  ardently 
to  be  laid  before  the  Father  of  Mercies. .  Thus  they  were  remarkably 
comprehensive,  and  furnished  a  far  greater  variety  on  the  sueoessive 
occasions  of  public  worship,  than  those  of  any  other  minister  whom  I 
have  ever  known.  The  portions  which  were  devoted  to  interoeaaion, 
operated  most  happily  in  drawing  the  affections  of  his  people  towards 
himself;  since  they  shewed  how  completely  his  Christian  aympathy 
had  prepared  him  to  make  their  respective  cases  his  own. 

'  The  commencement  of  his  sermons  did  not  excite  much  expect* 
ation  in  strangers,  except  they  were  such  as  recollected  how  the  mental 
agitation  produced  by  diffidence,  characterised  the  first  aentencea  of 
some  of  the  orators  of  antiquity.  He  began  with  hesitation,  and  often 
in  a  v^ry  low  and  feeble  tone,  coughing  frequently,  as  though  be  were 
oppressed  by  asthmatic  obstructions.  As  he  proceeded,  his  manirar 
became  easy,  graceful,  and  at  length  highly  impassioned ;  hia  voioe 
also  acquired  more  flexibility,  body,  and  sweetness,  and,  in  all  his 
happier  and  more  successful  efforts,  swelled  into  a  stream  of  the  moat 
touching  and  impressive  melody.  The  farther  he  advanced,  the  more 
spontaneous,  natural,  and  free  from  labour,  seemed  the  progreaaioii  of 
thought.  He  announced  the  results  of  the  most  extensive  reading,  of 
the  most  patient  investigation,  or  of  the  profoundest  thinkii^,  with 
jBUch  unassuming  simplicity,  yet  set  them  in  such  a  position  of  olivioua 
and  lucid  reality,  that  the  auditors  wondered  how  things  so  simple  and 
manifest  should  have  escaped  them.  Throughout  his  sermona  he  kept 
his  subject  thoroughly  in  view,  and  so  incessantly  breuffht  forward 
new  arguments,  or  new  illustrations,  to  confirm  or  to  explain  it,  that 
with  him  amplification  was  almost  invariably  accumulative  in  its  ten- 
dency. One  thought  was  succeeded  by  another,  and  that  by  anaCber* 
and  another,  each  more  weighty  than  the  preceding,  each  mere  cal- 
culated to  deepen  and  render  permanent  the  ultimate  impmsioii.  Hie 
could  at  pleasure  adopt  the  unadorned,  the  ornamental,  or  the  ener- 
getic ;  and  indeed  combine  them  in  every  diversity  of  modulatiott.  In 
bis  higher  flights,  what  he  said  of  Burke,  might,  with  the  aligbtest 
deducti<m,  be  applied  to  himself,  ''  tbat  his  imperial  &ncy  itfd  ail 
nature  under  tnbote,  and  collected  ridtes  from  erery  acene  of  the 


Life  of  Robert  IlaO.  803 

cntadon,  end  erery  walk  of  art " ;  and  at  the  same  time,  that  conld  be 
affinned  of  Mr.  HaU,  which  could  not  be  affirmed  of  Mr.  Burke^  that 
he  never  fatigued  and  oppressed  by  gaudy  and  superfluous  imagery. 
Whenever  the  subject  obviously  justified  it,  fie  would  yield  the  reins 
to  an  eloquence  more  diffusive  and  magnificent  than  the  ordinary 
Course  of  pulpit  instruction  seemed  to  require ;  yet,  so  exquisite  was 
his  perception  of  beauty^  and  so  sound  his  judgement^  that  not  the 
ooloest  taste^  provided  it  were  real  taste^  could  ever  wish  an  image 
omitted  which  Mr.  Hall  had  introduced.  His  inexhaustible  variety 
augmented  the  general  effect.  The  same  images,  the  same  illustra- 
taonSf  searcely  ever  recurred.  So  ample  were  his  stores^  that  repetition 
of  every  kind  was  usually  avoided  ;  while  in  his  illustrations  he  would 
eranect  and  contrast  what  was  disjointed  and  opposed,  or  distinctly 
unfold  what  was  abstracted  or  obscure,  in  such  terms  as  \vere  generally 
intelligiblej  not  only  to  the  well-informed,  but  to  the  meanest  capacity. 
As  he  advanced  to  his  practical  applications,  all  his  mental  powers 
were  shewn  in  the  most  palpable  out  finely  balanced  exercise.  His 
mind  would,  if  I  may  so  speak,  collect  itself  and  come  forth  with  a 
luminous  activity,  proving,  as  he  advanced,  how  vast,  and,  in  some 
important  senses,  how  next  to  irresistible  those  powers  were.  In  such 
seasons,  his  preaching  communicated  universal  animation  :  his  congre- 
gation woula  seem  to  partake  of  his  spirit,  to  think  and  feel  as  he  did, 
to  be  fiilly  influenced  by  the  presence  of  the  objects  which  he  had 
placed  before  them,  fully  actuated  by  the  motives  which  he  had  en* 
forced  with  such  energy  and  pathos. 

'  All  was  doubtless  heightened  by  his  singular  rapidity  of  utterance, 
—by  the  rhythmical  structure  of  His  sentences,  calculated  at  once  for 
the  transmission  of  the  most  momentous  truths,  for  the  powers  of  his 
voice,  and  for  the  convenience  of  breathing  at  measured  intervals, — 
and,  more  than  all,  by  the  unequivocal  earnestness  and  sincerity  which 
pervaded  the  whole,  and  by  the  eloquence  of  his  most  speaking  coun« 
tenanoe  and  penetrating  eye.  In  his  sublimer  strains,  not  only  was 
every  faculty  of  the  soul  enkindled  and  in  entire  operation,  but  his 
very  features  seemed  fully  to  sympathise  with  the  spirit,  and  to  give 
out,  nay,  to  throw  out,  thought,  and  sentiment,  and  feeling.' 

Vol.  VI.  pp.  51—65. 

Sach  wfts  the  man,  in  the  very  morning  of  his  fame,  whom 
0ome  worthy  perscms  of  the  episcopalian  persuasion,  ibndly  ima- 
ttkie  to  have  been  indebted  for  his  celebrity  beyond  the  circle  of 
hifl  own  communion,  to  the  accident  of  his  being  stationed  at 
Cambridge  ! !  Had  he  lived  in  a  country  town,  *  the  occasional 
^  dieeoutses  which  have  been  rapturously  applauded  by  the  highest 
*  tribuibah  of  criticism,  and  been  eagerly  devoured  by  statesmen, 
^divines,  and  philosophers,  might  have  been  heard  of  only  in  the 
'neighbouring  bookseller'*s  shop,  and  among  the  deacons  and 
'  communicants  of  a  Baptist  meeting  !^  But,  'as  our  universities 
'  radiate  intelligence  to  every  part  of  the  land,  a  name  which  was 
'so  well  known  at  Cambr^e,  would  not  fiul  to  become  well 


204  Life  of  Robert  HaU. 

^  known  throughout  the  country.**  *  The  Class-mate  of 
tosh^  the  Preacher  who  at  the  age  of  one-and-twenty  seduced  Bri^ 
clergymen  to  wander  into  a  Baptist  meeting  for  the  purpose  of 
hearing  him,  the  Author  of  the  sermon  on  Modem  Inndelity, 
would,  possibly,  never  have  made  his  way  into  open  celebrity, 
but  for  the  irradiation  shed  upon  him  by  his  local  conDexion  with 
Cambridge!  Most  philosophical  and  academical  conclustoii ! 
That  his  residence  at  Cambridge  gave  many  individuals  an  op> 
portunity  of  listening  to  his  pulpit  eloquence,  who  would  other- 
wise not  have  taken  the  trouble  to  go  after  him,  is  certain.  So 
far  did  his  reputation  break  down  ^  even  the  pale  of  collegiate 
*'  order ',  that,  ^  when  the  heads  of  houses  met  to  consider  the 

*  expediency  of  preventing  the  gownsmen  attending  his  meeting, 

*  the  proposition  was  overruled  % — ^prudently,  but  not  very  gra- 
ciously. The  fact  is,  that  a  grudging  and  reluctant  homage  was 
paid  to  the  great  sectarian  Preacher,  while  living,  by  the  members 
of  the  Establishment,  with  a  few  illustrious  exceptions ;  and  even 
now,  the  plaudit  of  admiration  is  tainted  with  the  breath  of  de- 
traction. Is  it  not  remarkable,  that  the  first  notice  which  the 
works  of  this  ^  master  of  English  ^  ever  received  in  the  London 
Quarterly  Review,  should  appear  in  the  XCVth  Number  of  that 
journal,  and  should  consist  of  an  elaborate  tissue  of  eulogy  and  ca- 
lumny, artfully  woven,  for  the  purpose  of  rendering,  if  possible*  the 
posthumous  fame  of  the  Great  Dissenter  innocuous?  This  writer, 
whose  ^  wonderful  compositions, — wonderful  both  for  the  scale 
^  and  the  variety  of  the  powers  they  display  \  combine  '  declama- 
^  tion  so  impassioned  with  wisdom  so  practical,  touches  of  pathos 
^so  tender,  with  such  caustic  irony,  such  bold  invective,  sodi 
^  spirit-stirring  encouragement  to  heroic  deeds ; — and  all  in  lan- 
^giiagc  worthy  to  be  the  vehicle  of  such  diverse  thoughts,— 
^  more  massive  than  Addison,  more  easy  and  unconstrained  than 

*  Johnson,  more  sober  than  Burke ''i'; — the  subject  of  this  fisrvent 
eulogy  was  scarcely,  if  ever,  named,  while  living,  by  the  Quarterly 
Review.  No  one  would  have  learned  from  its  records  of  oor 
literature,  that  such  a  writer  existed.  To  hear  such  a  man  preach, 
was  an  offence  against  the  Establishment :  to  praise  his  writinn, 
except  in  a  whisper,  required  an  apology  from  a  churchman,  so 
strong  is  the  influence  of  the  sectarian  feeling  gendered  by  the 
pride  of  ecclesiastical  caste  ! 

Our  present  business,  however,  is  with  Mr.  HalFs  personal 
character,  rather  than  his  writings ;  and  as  we  have  beoi  led  to 
advert  to  the  article  in  the  Quarterly  Review,  we  cannot  refrain 


*  Christian  Observer,  Feb.  p.  96. 
t  Quarterly  Rev.  No.  XC V.  p.  120. 


Life  of  Robert  Halt.  205 

fton  obsenring,  tbat  the  mosaic  portrait  which,  with  considerable 
ingeiiuity,  the  Reviewer  has  framed  out  of  hints  and  scraps  in  his 
fetters  and  writings,  is  much  such  a  likeness  as  might  be  expected 
to  come  out  from  such  a  process.  From  an  expression  in  one  of 
hi»  letters  it  is  gathered,  that  his  temperament  was  by  nature 

*  indolent  '* ;  while,  from  other  parts  of  his  writings,  it  is  shrewdly 
QOiicluded  that  he  was  ^  irritable  '* ;  and  from  another  letter,  that 
he  was  ^  unsocial.^  But  ^  some  allowance  \  it  is  added,  ^  is  to  be 
^  made  for  a  little  habitual  spleen  in  a  man,  who,  conscious  of 
'  high  superiority,  was  depressed  by  circumstances  below  his 
^  naCiural  level  of  life.  For  such  a  person,  so  placed,  not  to  kick 
^  agaiAst  the  pricks,  would  indeed  have  been  a  spectacle  of  pro- 
^  tracted  self-denial  of  the  rarest  merit,  but  was  one  which  required 

*  a  degree  of  virtue  unreasonable  to  expect'*  !*  The  sarcastic  can- 
dour, the  insolent  condescension  of  this  ^  allowance  %  harmonizes 
with  the  palpable  unfsiimess  of  making  a  good  man'^s  confessions 
or  complaints  the  basis  of  an  estimate  of  his  character.  Upon 
this  principle,  some  of  the  most  useful  men  that  ever  lived,  might 
be  convicted  of  unpiofitabl^iess ;  and  some  of  the  holiest,  of 
impurity  of  motive.  To  impute  indolence  and  irritability,  as 
Wtinguisbing  characteristics,  to  a  man  suffering  under  ^  an  in* 
^  iemal  apparatus  of  torture  \  to  whom  exertion  was  pain,  and  in 
whom  placidity  was  fortitude,  is  unjust  and  unfeeling.  To  call 
on  individual  unsocial,  who  was  the  life  of  society,  who  delighted 
in  the  company  of  his  friends^  and  retreated  only  from  display 
and  debate,  is  not  only  unjust,  but  absurd.  But,  not  content 
with  this,  the  Reviewer  must  needs  devise  a  fictitious  cause  for 
the  supposititious  infirmity,  and  ascribe  the  habitual  spleen  of 
the  surly,  discontented,  lasy  being  he  has  imagined,  to  a  depres* 
lien  of  fortune,  or  rather,  to  the  conscious  degradation  of  being 
(Qondemned,  as  a  Dissenter,  to  a  position  below  his  natural  level ! 
Of  this  depression,  Mr.  Hall  was  assuredly  unconscious.  He  had 
a  mind  kinnitdy  superior  to  the  creeping  baseness  and  littleness 
which  the  su]^sidon  of  this  Reviewer  betrays.  He  never  coveted 
wealth ;  aiid,  in  consecratbg  himself  to  the  Christian  ministry 
fUBong  the  Dissenters,  he  could  never  have  dreamed  of  attaining 
higher  eminence  and  dignity  than  he  attained.  The  fame  and 
eoosid^o^nwhidi  beei\joyed,  might  have  gratified  an  ambitious 
man;  but  he  esteemed  ^' the  reproach  of  Christ'*^  ereater  riches 
fhoo  the  treasures  of  a  hierarchy,  purchased  by  what  he  would 
hove  deemed  apostasy  f.     What  d^ree  of  virtue  it  might  be 


*  Quarterly  Rev.  p.  131. 

t  '  Dr.  ]\Iansel>  afterwards  Bishop  of  Bristol^  endeavoured  to  per- 
suade Mr.  Hall,  through  a  common  friend,  to  conform  to  the  Esta- 
blished Church,  in  which  be  would  not  long  have  wanted  preferment ; 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  B  B 


206  Life  of  Robert  HalL 

unreasonable  to  expect  in  such  a  person,  we  will  not  undertake 
to  decide ;  but  the  Reviewer  ought  to  have  recollected,  befbie  he 
ventured  to  misapply  the  lan^age  of  Scripture,  that  to  ^^  kidc 
against  the  pricks^  is  descriptive  of  the  conduct  of  the  persecutor, 
not  the  persecuted;  of  the  bigot,  armed  with  sacerdotal  power,  not 
of  the  despised  objects  of  his  intolerance. 

To  return  to  the  narrative.  In  the  beginning  of  iTOdy  Mr. 
Hall  had  the  gratification  of  renewing  personal  intercourse  with 
his  friend  Mackintosh,  who,  being  about  to  deliver  his  course  of 
lectures  at  Lincoln^s-Inn  Hall,  on  the  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations, 
spent  a  few  months  at  Cambridge,  for  the  purpose  of  consultii^ 
the  university  and  other  public  libraries.  Dr.  Parr  came  to 
Cambridge  on  a  visit  to  his  friends  at  the  same  time ;  and  Mr. 
Hall  often  spent  his  evenings  with  these  two  eminent  men  and  a 
few  members  of  the  university  who  were  invited  to  their  select 
parties.  It  is  a  remarkable  coincidence,  that  the  Author  of  the 
VindicicB  Gallicce^  and  the  Author  of  the  '*  Apology  for  the 
Freedom  of  the  Press  ^,  both  embarked,  about  the  same  time, 
upon  the  stormy  sea  of  political  debate.  In  both,  a  generous  love 
or  liberty,  combined  with  the  ardour  of  genius  and  the  immaturity 
of  youth,  gave  birth  to  a  brilliant  performance,  which  their  riper 
judgement  condemned,  without  any  abandonment  of  their  early 
principles.  To  both,  political  celebrity  became  a  source  of  in- 
convenience, and  subsequently  exposed  them  to  a  charge,  utterly 
unfounded,  of  political  apostasy.  Both,  in  their  juvenile  pro- 
ductions, had  assailed  the  opinions,  while  they  had,  in  some 
measure,  imitated  the  style,  or  caught  the  spirit  of  Burke.  And 
now  about  the  same  period,  time  having  wrought  a  similar  modifi- 
cation upon  the  opinions  of  the  two  friends,  without  any  concert 
between  them,  we  find  Mackintosh  preparing  those  lectures  which 
were  the  chief  source  of  his  permanent  reputation,  and  Hall 
preaching  his  splendid  philippic  against  infidelity.  That  sermon 
was  no  hasty  production,  but,  as  Dr.  Gregory  assures  us,  '  the 

*  deliberate  result  of  a  confirmed  belief,  that  the  most  strenuous 
'  efforts  were  required  to  repel  mischief  so  awfully  and  insidiously 

*  diffused.^  We  cannot  but  think  it  highly  probable,  however,  that 
his  renewed  intercourse  with  Mackintosh  in  the  preceding  year,  had 
some  effect,  both  in  exciting  him  to  the  effort,  and  in  influencing 
the  tone  of  his  sentiments ;  not  less  effect,  perhaps,  than  Mack- 
intosh's visit  to  Beaconsfield  is  supposed  to  have  nad  upon  him. 
After  the  publication  of  the  sermon  upon  infidelity,  which  met 
with  unanticipated  and  extraordinary  applause.  Mackintosh  thus 
writes  to  his  friend.  Hall. 


but  Mr.  Hall,  much  to  the  honour  of  his  integrity^  declined  the  in- 
vitation/    Christian  Observer, 


t  ft 

•   •  •   • 


Life  of  Robert  Halt,  207 

He  {Windham)  had  recommended  the  sermon  to  Lord 
Grenville^  who  seemed  sceptical  about  any  thing  good  coming  from 
tlie  pastor  of  a  Baptist  congregation,  especially  ut  Cambridge.  This, 
you  see,  is  the  unhappy  impression  which  Priestley  has  made,  and 
which,  if  you  proceed  as  you  have  so  nobly  begun,  you  will  assuredly 
efface*  But  you  will  never  do  all  the  good  which  it  is  in  your  power 
to  do,  unless  you  assert  your  own  importance,  and  call  to  mind,  that, 
as  the  Dissenters  have  no  man  comparable  to  you,  it  is  your  province 
to  guide  them,  and  not  to  be  guided  by  their  ignorance  and  bigotry. 
I  am  almost  sorry  you  thought  any  apology  due  to  those  senseless 
bigots  who  blamed  you  for  compassion  towards  the  clergy  of  France, 
as  innocent  sufferers  and  as  martyrs  of  the  Christian  faith,  during  the 
most  barbarous  persecution  that  has  fallen  upon  Christianity,  perhaps 
•ince  its  origin,  but  certainly  since  its  establishment  by  Constantino. 
...  I  own  I  thought  well  of  Horsley  when  I  found  him,  in  his  charge, 
call  these  unhappy  men  our  Christian  brethren,  the  bishops  and  clergy 
of  the  persecuted  Church  of  France.  This  is  the  language  of  truth. 
This  is  the  spirit  of  Christianity." '     p.  6(5. 

But  Mr.  Hall,  in  his  **  Apology  *",  had  attacked  Horsley  for 
this  very  language,  with  great  acrimony,  contrasting  the  extreme 
tenderness  the  Protestant  Prelate  professed  for  the  fallen  Church 
of  France,  with  his  malignity  towards  Dissenters.  In  employing 
similar  language  in  his  sermon,  seven  years  afterwards,  he  must 
have  recollected  this,  and  have  felt  that  he  had  laid  himself  open 
to  the  charge  of  inconsistency  *.  It  might  be  urged,  that  he  nad 
attacked  Horsley  for  his  intolerance,  rather  than  for  his  charity, 

•  We  have  elsewhere  exposed  the  injustice  of  the  charge  of  political 
inconsistency  brought  a^inst  Mr.  Hall  by  his  detractors.  (Eel.  Rev. 
Vol.  VII.  p.  419.)  The  change  was  not  in  his  political  principles, 
but  in  his  manner  of  holding  and  advocating  them.  It  was  the  change, 
not  of  vacillation,  but  of  maturity.  That  between  his  early  produc- 
tions and  his  later  writings  there  should  nevertheless  be  a  marked 
difference  of  tone  and  spirit,  and  sometimes  an  apparent  contrariety  of 
sentiment,  is  no  more  than  might  be  expected  from  the  circumstances 
of  his  life,  and  his  progression  in  wisdom  and  sanctity.  But  what 
shall  we  say  to  the  despicable  industry  which  has  employed  itself  in 
studying  his  works  for  the  express  purpose  of  malignantly  exhibiting 
all  tne  '  contradictions '  of  opmion  which  they  can  be  made  to  furnish, 
under  the  ^etence,  that  the  unworthy  and  disgusting  task  was  forced 
upon  the  Keviewer  in  •  self-defence ',  because  Dr.  Gregory  has  pre- 
sumed to  reprint,  in  a  complete  edition  of  Mr.  Hall's  works,  Hhe 
unripe  speculations  of  his  youth  '.■  Such  is  the  conduct  which  the 
Quarterly  Reviewer  has  chosen  to  adopt  !  We  envy  neither  his  head 
nor  his  heart.  Few  persons,  we  imagine,  whose  minds  are  not  en- 
venomed by  bigotry,  will  think  that  any  production  of  Mr.  Hall's 
ought  to  have  been  suppressed  in  a  collection  of  his  works,  where  the 
errors  of  his  early  opinions  are  at  once  corrected  and  neutralized  by 
the  more  serious  and  mature  productions  of  his  riper  years. 

B  B  2 


208  Life  of  Robert  Hall. 

— for  his  insolent  invectives  against  his  feIIow.Prote«tanM  in  this 
country,  rather  than  for  his  sympathy  with  the  fallen  Church  of 
France.  Still,  it  must  be  concluded,  that,  like  Mackrotosh,  he 
had  somewhat  changed  his  political  views,  undeceived  by  the 
terrific  issue  of  those  events  which  he  had  hailed  as  the  downfil 
of  an  odious  despotism  ;  and  we  are  led  to  presume,  that  these 
two  eminent  men  must,  when  they  met  at  Cambridge,  have  com- 
pared, and  mutually  reinforced  their  sentiments  upon  these  topes. 
Mr.  Mackintosh,  we  are  told,  continued  to  evince  both  the 
steadiness  of  his  friendship  for  Mr.  Hall,  and  the  high  value 
which  he  set  upon  this  sermon,  by  frequently  quoting  and  apply- 
ing it  to  the  elucidation  of  the  topics  introduced  in  his  lectures  at 
Lincoln^s  Inn.  Many  of  his  auditors  were  in  consequence  in- 
duced to  visit  Cambridge,  to  listen  to  the  pulpit  instructions  of 
the  individual  of  whom  they  heard  so  much  ;  and  no  fewer  than 
fifty  or  sixty  members  of  the  university  might  often  be  seen  at 
the  Baptist  place  of  worship. 

'  None  of  these  circumstances,  however  *,  says  Dr.  Gregory,  '  wen 
permitted  to  draw  Mr.  Hall  aside  from  his  ordinary  course.  His 
studies,  his  public  duties,  his  pastoral  visits,  were  each  assigned  their 
natural  place  as  before.  If  there  was  any  change,  it  was  manifest  in 
his  increased  watchfulness  over  himself,  anci,  perhaps,  in  giving  a  rather 
more  critical  complexion  than  before  to  certam  portions  of  his  momins 
expositions,  and  in  always  concluding  them  with  such  strong  practical 
appeals  as   might  be  suited  to  a  congregation  of  mixed  character.' 

p.  67. 

In  this  meridian  of  his  fame,  if  not  of  his  usefulness,  a  cloud 
arose,  which  for  a  while  enveloped  his  faculties  in  the  darkness  of 
disease,  and  occasioned  his  disappearance  irom  the  scene  of  his 
celebrity.  Early  in  1803,  the  pain  in  his  back  increased  both  in 
intenseness  and  continuity,  depriving  him  almost  always  of  re- 
freshing sleep,  and  depressing  his  spirits  to  an  unusual  degree. 
Horse  exercise  was  recommended;  but  the  benefit  which  he  seemed 
at  first  to  derive  from  it,  was  transient ;  and  at  length,  a  state  of 
high  nervous  excitement  was  induced,  the  effect  of  bodily  dis- 
order acting  upon  a  mind  overstrained,  which  terminated  in  an 
awful  eclipse  of  his  reason.  ^  He  who  had  so  long  been  the 
^  theme  of  universal  admiration,  became  the  subject  of  as  exten- 
*  sive  a  sympathy.''  This  event  occurred  in  November,  1804. 
Mr.  Hall  was  placed  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Arnold,  of  Leicester, 
whose  attention,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  in  about  two  months, 
restored  him  to  society.  In  April,  1805,  he  resumed  his  minis- 
terial functions ;  but  a  return  of  his  old  pain  with  aggravated  se- 
verity, in  the  same  year,  was  followed  by  a  relapse,  which  again 
withdrew  him  from  public  duty.  Under  the  judicious  care  of  the 
late  Dr.  Cox,  of  Bristol,  he  soon  regained  the  complete  balance 
of  his  mental  powers ;  Imt  it  was  now  deemed  requisite  to  bis 


Life  of  Robert  HaU.  209 

fenaamitti  tetoyett^  that  be  should  resign  the  pastoml  ofBee  At 
Cambridge,  and,  ror  at  least  a  year,  abstain  fram  preaching,  and 
svoad  all  strong  excitement.  Thus  terminated  a  connexion  which 
bad  subsisted,  with  the  happiest  results,  for  fifteen  years;  but 
the  mutual  attachment  between  the  pastor  and  his  flock  surrived 
hia  remaral,  and  remained  undiminished  till  his  death  *, 

The  effect  of  these  Diyine  chastisements  upon  Mr.  HalPs 
feelings  and  character,  the  reader  will  anticipate ;  but  we  shall 
extract  the  statement  of  his  friend  and  biograpner. 

'  Two  visitations  of  so  humiliating  a  calamity  within  the  compass 
of  a  year,  deeply  affected  Mr.  Hall's  mind.  Happily,  however,  for 
himself  and  for  the  world,  his  spirits  soon  recovered  their  wonted 
tone ;  and  the  permanent  impression  on  his  character  was  exclusively 
religioua.  His  own  decided  impression  was,  that,  however  vivid  his 
0imvictions  of  religions  truth  and  of  the  necessity  ef  a  consistent 
course  of  evangelical  obedience  had  formerly  been,  and  however  cor- 
rect his  doctrinal  sentiments  during  the  last  fonr  or  five  years,  yet, 
that  he  did  not  undergo  a  thorough  transformation  of  character,  a 
oomplete  renewal  of  his  heart  and  affections,  until  the  first  of  these 
seizures.  Some  of  his  Cambridge  friends,  who  visited  him  at  Shel- 
ford,  previously  to  his  removal  to  Dr.  Arnold's,  and  witnessed  his  deep 
prostration  of  soul  while  he  read  the  fifty-first  psalm,  and  made  each 
verse  the  subject  of  penitent  confession  and  of  a  distinct  prayer,  were 
rather  inclined  to  concur  with  him  as  to  the  correctness  of^the  opinion. 
Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  (and  the  wonderful  revelations  ot  "  the 
great  day  "  can  alone  remove  the  doubt,)  there  can  be  no  question  that 
nrom  this  period  he  seemed  more  to  live  under  the  prevailing  recollec- 
taon  of  his  entire  dependence  upon  Qod;  that  his  habits  were  more  de-> 
Totional  than  they  had  ever  before  been,  his  exercises  more  fervent  and 
more  elevated. 

'  In  a  letter  written  to  his  friend  Mr.  Phillips,  of  Clapham,  after 
his  recovery,  he  thus  adverts  to  his  afflictions. 

'  ''  1  cannot  look  back  upon  the  events  which  have  befallen  me, 
without  admiration  and  gratitude.  I  am  a  monument  of  the  goodness 
and  of  the  severity  of  God.  My  sufi^erings  have  been  extreme,  and 
the  kindness  of  God,  in  interposing  in  my  behalf,  unspeakable.  Pray 
fbr  me,  my  dear  friend,  that  I  may  retain  an  indelible  sense  of  the 
mercies  received,  and  that  the  inconceivable  afflictions  I  have  under- 
gone, may  '  work  fbr  me  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness.'  I  am 
often  afraid  lest  it  should  be  with  me  as  with  the  ancient  Israelites, 
who,  after  they  had  sung  the  praises  of  God,  '  soon  forgot  his  works.' 
O !  that  a  life  so  signally  redeemed  from  destruction,  may  be  as  sig- 
nally employed  in  that  which  is  alone  the  true  end  of  life,  the  service 
of  God.     But  my  heart  is  '  like  a  deceitful  bow,'  continually  prone  to 

*  Among  other  substantial  marks  of  their  gratitude  and  attach- 
ment, his  Cambridge  friends  purchased  for  him,  during  his  illness,  a 
liberal  life  annuity,  and  rsosed  a  further  sum,  to  be  at  his  own  disposal 
at  death. 


210  Life  of  Robert  HaU. 

turn  aside ;  so  that  nothing  but  the  powerful  impulse  of  Divine  grace 
can  fix  it  in  a  right  aim." '     pp.  78,  79. 

After  spending  some  months  among  his  relatives  and  friends  in 
Leicestershire,  Mr.  Hall  fixed  his  residence  for  some  time  at 
Enderby,  a  sequestered  village  near  Leicester,  where  he  gradually 
regained  his  bodily  health  and  a  renewed  capacity  for  public  use- 
fulness. He  soon  began  to  preach  in  some  of  the  adjacent  vil- 
lages,  and  occasionally  to  a  small  congregation  assembling  in 
Harvey  Lane,  Leicester,  which  had,  several  years  before,  been 
under  the  care  of  Mr.  (now  Dr.)  Carey,  the  eminent  Missionary 
of  Serampore.  He  at  length  received  and  accepted  an  invitation 
to  become  their  stated  pastor ;  and  over  this  church,  he  presided 
for  nearly  twenty  years,  during  which  the  attendance  steadily  in- 
creased, so  that  it  was  twice  found  necessary  to  enlarge  the  place 
of  worship.  In  the  year  1808,  his  marriage  to  a  prudent  and 
estimable  woman,  greatly  added  to  his  domestic  comfort,  and  had 
a  happy  effect  upon  his  spirits,  while  it  contributed  materially  to 
promote  the  regularity  of  his  habits.  Altogether,  his  residence 
at  Leicester,  Dr.  Gregory  considers  to  have  been  undoubtedly 
the  period  in  which  Mr.  Hall  was  most  happy,  active,  and  useful. 
His  writings  also,  during  this  period,  though  by  no  means  nume- 
rous, tended  greatly  to  augment  his  influence  upon  society.  The 
first  of  these,  one  of  the  most  masterly  of  his  productions,  was 
his  critique  upon  ''  Zeal  without  Innovation^,  published  in  the 
first  series  of  the  Eclectic  Review.  This  article,  which  he  un- 
dertook at  the  earnest  entreaty  of  the  late  Mr.  Robinson  of 
Leicester,  was  attacked  with  much  bitterness  in  the  Christian 
Observer,  and  occasioned  the  first  denunciation  of  clerical  hosti- 
lity against  the  journal  in  which  it  appeared.  It  obtained  also  a 
wide  circulation  in  the  form  of  a  se])arate  pamphlet.  The  ser- 
mon *  On  the  Discouragements  and  Supports  of  the  Christian 
*  Ministry  **,  the  Address  to  Eustace  Carey,  and  the  Funeral 
Oration  for  the  Princess  Charlotte,  which  rank  among  the  Au- 
thor'^s  most  valuable  and  finished  compositions,  were  also  pro- 
duced during  his  residence  at  Leicester ;  as  well  as  various  tracts, 
biographical  sketches,  reviews,  and  his  polemical  works  relating 
to  the  Terms  of  Communion.  His  engagements  for  the  press 
were  not  suffered,  however,  to  draw  him  aside  from  his  pastoral 
duties;  nor  did  the  almost  constant  pain  which  he  suffered  from 
his  constitutional  complaint,  throughout  the  whole  time  of  his 
residence  at  Leicester,  diminish  his  mental  energy.  When  it  is 
known  that,  for  more  than  twenty  years,  he  was  unable,  through 
pain,  to  pass  a  whole  night  in  bed,  it  will  be  thought  surprising, 
Dr.  Gregory  remarks,  that  he  wrote  so  much ;  nay,  that  he  did 
not  sink  into  premature  dotage. 

Mr.  Hall  had  attained  his  sixty -second  year,  when  the  death 
of  Dr.  Ryland,  in  1825,  led  to  his  being  invited  to  succeed  ta 


Life  of  Robert  Hall.  211 

be  pastoral  charge  over  the  Baptist  church  at  Broadmead,  Bris- 
jl, — the  scene  of  his  first  continuous  labours,  and  of  his  closing 
linistry.  Some  few  of  the  friends  of  his  early  life  survived  to 
elcome  his  return  among  them ;  and  every  thing  but  the  infirm 
tate  of  his  health,  conspired  to  promote  his  own  comfort  there, 
8  well  as  the  prosperity  of  the  society  with  which  he  had  thus, 
fter  so  long  an  interval,  renewed  a  sacred  connexion.  As  the 
idications  of  infirm  age  rapidly  exhibited  themselves,  they  were 
Baccompanied  by  a  decaying  mind  or  a  querulous  spirit.  About 
ix  years  before  his  death,  he  was  attacked  with  a  spasmodic  af- 
^tion  of  the  chest,  a  plethoric  habit  having  been  induced  by  his 
lability  to  take  regular  exercise.  This  disorder  gradually  in- 
reased,  occasioning  several  alarming  attacks,  till  at  length,  on 
he  10th  of  February,  1831,  he  was  seized  with  the  first  of  a 
eries  of  paroxysms  which  terminated  in  his  dissolution.  For 
en  days,  he  sunered,  with  short  intervals,  great  physical  torture, 
rithout  a  murmur,  without  an  expression  of  irritability ;  employ- 
Qg  the  moments  of  comparative  ease  to  express  his  thankfulness 
o  God  for  his  unspeakable  mercies, — his  humble  hope  and  entire 
ubmission, — his  simple,  unshaken  reliance  upon  his  Saviour, — 
;nd  his  affectionate  acknowledgements  of  the  care  and  assiduities 
»f  his  family  and  friends  around  him.  He  also  exhorted  both  the 
aembers  of  his  family  and  others  occasionally  present,  to  make 
eligion  their  chief  and  incessant  concern ;  urging  especially  upon 
ome  of  the  younger  persons,  the  duty  of  openly  professing  their 
ittachment  to  Christ  and  his  cause. 


'  When  he  was  a  little  recovered  from  one  of  his  severe  paroxysms,' 
ays  his  medical  attendant,  Mr.  Chandler^  '  I  asked  him,  whether  he 
eft  much  pain.  He  replied  that  his  sufferings  were  great :  "  but 
?hat  (he  added)  are  my  sufferings  to  the  sufferings  of  Christ  ?  His 
afferings  were  infinitely  greater:  his  suffering  were  complicated. 
Tod  has  been  very  merciful  to  me — very  merciful:  I  am  a  poor  crea- 
ure — an  unworthy  creature ;  but  God  has  been  very  kind — very  mer- 
;iful."  He  then  alluded  to  the  character  of  the  suflTerings  of  cruci- 
ixion,  remarking,  how  intense  and  insufferable  they  must  have  been, 
ind  asked  many  minute  questions  on  what  I  might  suppose  was  the 
)rocess  by  which  crucifixion  brought  about  death.  He  particularly 
nquired  respecting  the  effect  of  pain — the  nervous  irritation — the 
hirst — the  oppression  of  breathing — the  disturbance  of  the  circulation 
—and  the  hurried  action  of  the  heart,  till  the  conversation  gradually 
)rought  him  to  a  consideration  of  his  own  distress ;  when  he  again 
'everted  to  the  lightness  of  his  sufferings  when  contrasted  with  those 
»f  Christ.  He  spoke  of  our  Lord's  "  enduring  the  contradiction  of 
(inners  against  himself" — of  the  ingratitude  and  unkindness  he  re- 
vived from  those  for  whom  he  went  about  doing  good — of  the  com- 
lination  of  the  mental  and  corporeal  agonies  sustained  on  the  cross — 
he  length  of  time  during  which  our  Lord  hung — the  exhaustion  oc- 
^oncd,  &c.     He  then  remarked  how  differently  he  had  been  si- 


SIS  Auldjo^s  Sketches  of  Vewvhia. 

tuated ;  tbftt,  though  he  had  endured  as  modi  er  mofe  thAn  fell  !• 
the  lot  of  most  men,  yet  all  had  heen  in  mercy.  I  here  remarked  te 
him,  that,  with  most  persons,  the  days  of  ease  and  comfort  were  hi 
more  numerous  than  tnoae  of  pain  and  sorrow.  He  replied :  *'  But  I 
have  been  a  great  sufferer  in  my  time :  it  is,  however,  generally  true : 
the  dispensations  of  God  have  been  merciful  to  me."  He  then  ob- 
served, that  a  contemplation  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ  was  the  best 
antidote  against  impatience  under  any  troubles  we  might  experience ; 
and  recommended  me  to  reflect  much  on  this  subject,  when  tn  pwi  or 
distress,  or  in  expectation  of  death.'     p.  1 13. 

In  the  last  agony^  hk  sufTerings  extorted  the  exclamation,  *  0 
the  sufTerings  of  this  body  !'  *  But  are  you  coipfortible  in  your 
mind  ?**  asked  Mrs.  Hall.  *  Very  comfortaUe,  very  comfOTtable,* 
was  his  reply ;  addiag,  *  Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come  ** — One  of  \m 
daughters  finished  the  imperfect  sentence,  by  iuvoluntarily  supply- 
ing the  word  *  Quickly  ;**  on  which  her  dying  fitthergave  ner  a 
look  expresave  of  the  most  couiplacent  deKght  To  the  last 
moment,  there  was  no  failure  of  bis  mental  vigour  or  composure; 
and  almost  his  last  articulate  senteuce  intimated,  with  his  ac- 
customed courteousnesSf  the  fear  that  he  should  fatigue  by  his 
pressure  the  friend  upon  whom  he  leaned  for  support  ia  wrestling 
with  the  last  enemy.  There  was  a  terrible  grandeur  in  the 
conflict.  What  a  moment  was  that  which  succeeded  to  the  fina} 
pang!* 

We  have  not  said  a  word  about  Mr.  Fosters  extremely  in- 
teresting Observations,  because  we  fhMi  we  niust  reserve  them  as 
the  subject  of  a  distinct  article,  when  we  shall  notice  the  sermons 
contained  in  the  present  voluase. 

Art.  IL  Sketches  of  Femvius,  with  Bhart  Accounts  xvf  its  Prindpai 
Eruptiofis,  from  the  Cammencemeat  of  the  Christian  Era  to  the 
present  Time.  Bv  Jc^n  Auldjo,  Esq.,  FjG.8.,  Corr.  Member  of 
the  Soc  Real  Borboii,  and  of  the  Soc.  Pontauiana,  Naples.  8vo. 
pp.  93.  17  Plates.  Lond.  1833. 

jL/f  R.  AULDJO,  in  1827,  accomplished  the  e«ca//ide  of  Mont 
Blanc ;  and  by  means  of  his  pencil,  he  turned  his  perilous 
and  otherwise  unprofitable  adventure  to  such  good  account,  that 
hifi  Narrative  f ,  illustrated  by  a  skilfully  executed  series  of  litho- 
graphic sketches  of  the  scenery,  enables  the  reader  to  perform 
the  asceni;  with  as  much  ease  as  Don  Quixote  performed  his 
aerial  journey  on  the  wooden  iMurse,  and  with  much  more  ad- 
vantage.    In  the  present  volume,  be  transports  us  to  the  shores 

*  Mr.  Hall  expired^  Feb.  21,  1831,  having  not  quite  completed  hi# 
sixty -seventh  year. 

t  See  Eel.  Rev.  Vol  XXX,  p.  146. 


Auldjo^s  Sketches  of  Vesuvive.  213 

of  the  Bay  of  Naples,  or,  (what  is  not  quite  the  same  thing,  ^e 
admit,)  brings  Naples  and  Vesuvius  to  us;  so  that  the  reader 
has  but  to  sit  still,  like  a  child  in  a  coach,  who  fancies  that  the 
trees  and  other  objects  are  running  past  him,  and  he  will  find  the 
whole  scenery  of  the  route,  firom  Kesina  to  the  burning  cone, 
gradually  brought  before  him. 

The  volume  before  us  will  not,  however,  admit  of  advantageous 
comparison  with  Mr.  Auldjo'*s  former  publication, — with  its  lively 
details  and  spirited  sketches,  descriptive  of  the  ascent  and  scenery 
of  Mont  Blanc.  He  was,  then,  fortunate  in  the  aid  of  Harding^s 
exquisite  lithography,  and  in  his  own  vivid  recollections  of  sundry 
storms  and  avalanches,  and  ^  hair-breadth  ''scapes  "* ;  but  in  the 
present  instance,  his  excursions  have  all  the  insipidity  of  perfect 
safety ;  and  his  illustrations,  though  they  are  executed  in  an 
artist-like  style,  have  neither  th^  decision  of  Haghe,  nor  the 
expressive  gracefulness  of  Harding^s  handling.  The  signature 
to  the  plates  is  ^  F.  Wenzel  ** ;  and  we  mention  the  name,  because 
we  have  no  doubt  of  his  ultimate  success  in  this  branch  :  his 
touch  is  free,  and  his  line  bold;  he  is  sometimes  defective  in  pre- 
cision, but  there  are  indications  which  induce  us  to  refer  this 
to  carelessness,  rather  than  to  want  of  skill.  The  view  of  the  wall 
of  lava  in  the  Fosso  Grande  is  beautifully  drawn. 

Mr.  Auldjo'^s  repeated  visits  to  the  mountain  seem  to  have 
passed  off  without  a  single  adventure.  Not  a  singe  occurred  to 
give  vivacity  to  the  promenade ;  and  we  are  almost  tempted  to 
wonder  that  the  admitted  license  of  travellers  was  not  exercised, 
within  discreet  limits,  on  so  urgent  an  occasion.  A  ten-feet  leap 
across  a  fiery  lava-ralf,  or  an  hour^s  march  along  a  six-inch  ledge, 
midway  between  sky  and  abyss,  might  have  had  ^  a  fine  effect  "* ; 
even  the  repetition  of  Brydone'^s  sprained  ancle  would  have  shewn 
some  small  anxiety  for  the  amusement  of  his  readers  ;  but  all  is 
blank.  Nor  is  the  simplicity  of  truth  relieved  by  any  very 
striking  elasticity  of  style.  A  little  further  labour,  and  a  more 
judicious  management  of  the  extensive  system  of  illustration, 
would  have  made  of  this  slight  volume,  a  work  of  permanent 
value.  In  its  present  form,  it  can  claim  no  merit  beyond  such 
as  belongs  to  a  respectably  executed  *  Guide.**  The  earlier  por- 
tion describes  the  ascent,  scenery,  and  general  phenomena  of  the 
mountain,  assisted  by  a  dozen  sketches,  several  of  which  are  on  a 
large  scale,  exhibiting  the  characteristic  features  and  the  pic- 
turesque circumstances  of  the  volcano.  This  part  is  followed  by  a 
history  of  eruptions,  illustrated  by  a  very  interesting  map,  dis- 
playing, by  the  aid  of  different  tints,  the  various  streams  of  lava 
that  have  been  traced  on  the  declivities  of  Vesuvius.  An  Ap- 
pendix, with  additional  plates,  contains  interesting  details  of 
recent  convulsions. 

This  celebrated  mountain  has  two  summits,  the  present  cone 

TOL.  IX. — K.l.  c  c 


il4  AuUyo's  Sketches  of  Veewriue. 

of  Vesavios  and  the  Mnnie  Sinnmm,  which  are  sepaiaCed  hj  n 
narrow  Talley,  called  the  Airio  del  Cavallo  \  on  the  west,  and 
the  Canaie  deif  Arena  on  the  north.  The  lava  which  some- 
times  flows  from  the  north  side  of  the  cone,  with  the  ecoria  and 
ashes  ejected  or  washed  down  from  it  into  this  valley,  has  raised 
the  level,  and  will,  probably,  some  day  fill  it  up ;  and  then  that 
side  of  the  cone,  united  with  the  ridge  of  the  Somma,  will  becoaie 
part  of  the  flank  of  the  mountain.  The  cone  itself,  in  wffee^ 
ance  a  mass  of  ashes,  is  truncated  from  n.r.  to  s.w.,  and  rests, 
on  the  K.W.,  upon  the  Atrio  del  Cacallo;  on  the  n.e.,  opoa 
the  Canaie  delt  Arena;  and  towards  the  s.,  upon  the  Pedemem- 
tina,  extending  its  flank  down  to  the  hay,  and  forming  an  inclined 
plane  from  its  vertex  to  its  base.  The  slope,  from  the  PedemenHna 
and  the  Airio  del  Cavallp^  is  regular,  and  is  covered  with  vine- 
yards and  gardens :  it  is  broken  only  by  the  Vocalic  (small  cones, 
formed  during  the  eruption  of  17^0,^  by  the  picturesque  hill  on 
which  the  convent  of  the  Camaldoli  is  built,  and  by  prominences 
raised  on  the  lava  of  the  eruption  of  1794,  near  the  Kane  deHe 
Ginestre.  This  plain,  the  ascent  to  which  irom  Resina  oeca|iies 
about  an  hour,  (or  an  hour  and  a  half  by  the  moie  convem^it 
route  of  the  Fosso  Grande^  recommended  by  Mr.  Auldjo,)  was 
once  adorned  with  evergreen  shrubs  and  bushes,  and  broom, 
(from  which  it  takes  its  name,)  flowering  throughout  the  year,  and 
wearing  the  semblance  of  eternal  spring.  It  now  presents  *  muly 
'  a  desolate  expanse,  wherein  nothing  is  to  be  seen  but  the  scorious 
'  surfaces  of  vast  streams  of  lava,  which,  in  pouring  down  from 
'  the  cone,  have  intersected  and  covered  each  other,  have  been 
^  heaped  up  in  confused  masses  and  hillocks,  or  extended  in  broad . 
^  and  irregular  masses.^  From  this  plain,  the  route  ascends  to 
the  Hermitage,  through  a  winding  cleft  in  the  mass  of  lapUh^  d 
which  the  ridge  of  the  Canteroni^  upon  which  the  Hermitage  is 
built,  is  principally  composed.  Before  reaching  the  upper  part, 
a  magnificent  prospect  opens,  extending  over  the  richly-wooded 
plain  of  the  Campo  Felice^  terminating  in  the  sea  in  one  direc- 
tion, and,  in  the  other,  bounded  by  the  chain  of  the  Apenninea 
behind  Caserta.  Leaving  the  Hermitage  on  the  left,  the  road 
lies  along  the  highest  part  of  the  verdant  ridge,  at  the  end  of 
which  ^  the  ashy  cone  rears  itself  aloft,  the  white  smoke  tiaing  in 
*'  opaque  masses  from  the  centre,  and  curling  high  into  the  air.^ 
It  then  leads  down,  by  a  short  descent,  to  the  Atrio  del  CavcUhj 
and  winds  among  rude,  unshapen  masses,  between  two  streams  of 
recent  lava,  towards  a  spot  at  the  base  of  the  cone,  whence  it  is 
necessary  to  climb  on  foot  its  steep,  sandy  side,  by  a  sig-zag 

*  So  called,  because,  formerly,  persons  always  ascended  thus  far  on 
horseback.  Up  to  1631,  it  produced  herbage  and  trees,  bat  is  now  a 
iN^ea  plain  of  lava. 


AuIdjo'*8  Sketches  of  Vesuvius,  2\S 

eb,  leading,  in  rathar  more  than  half  an  hour,  to  the  top  of  the 
e. 


•:..• 


'.^  *  On  the  summit,'  says  Mr.  Auldjo,  '  a  scene  is  presented,  which  al- 
ntek  baffles  description.  The  field  of  lava  in  the  interior  of  the  crater, 
PKtiosed  within  a  lofty  and  irregular  bank,  might  be  likened  to  a  lake, 
**^  agitated  waves  had  been  suddenly  petrified ;  and,  in  many  re- 
it  resembles  the  mers  de  glace,  or  level  glaciers  of  Switzerland, 
gh,  in  its  origin  and  materials,  so  very  different.  It  is  inter- 
by  numberless  crevices,  some  deep  and  wide,  others  long  and 
ow.  Here,  one  sees  masses  curied  and  twisted  like  cables ;  there, 
slabs,  piled  up  in  various  angles  against  each  other ;  in  one  part, 
e  table  or  platform ;  in  aootner,  a  narrow  stream,  the  ripples  of 
I,  in  pushing  eaeh  other  forward,  have  maintained  their  wavy 
for  a  great  distance.  In  the  sea  of  ice,  the  white  dazzling  sur- 
fs reheved  by  beautiful  tints  and  various  shades  of  blue  and 
in  its  simulachre  of  stone,  the  bright  yellow  and  red  of  the 
pounds  of  sulphur  and  the  metals,  intenpersed  with  the  pure 
^iMte  of  the  muriate  of  soda,  aflbrd  a  pleasing  contrast  to  the  brown 
imd  melancholy  hue  of  the  lava. 
**  A  small  b&ek  oone,  formed  of  scoria  ejected  from  its  mouth,  rises 
the  kiTB  a  little  to  the  north-«ea8t  of  the  centre  of  the  crater; 
OTi  from  a  cavity  in  it^  volumes  of  amoke  roU  up  into  the  air,  some- 
^loes  accompanied  by  a  cloud  of  small,  fine  sand,  and  often,  by  showers 
if  red-hot  molten  lava,  which,  shot  aloft,  soon  scatter  and  mil  in  all 
dBiections ;  a  part  in  large  masses  like  cannon-balls,  a  part  in  small 
perfect  spheroids,  or  in  lumps  that,  striking  on  the  lava,  dash  out  into 
ioDg  strings  of  scoria. 

'  Two  terraces  of  lava  extend  across  the  crater  from  the  southern 
Mo  of  the  small  oone ;  and  upon  them  several  conical  ytimaroZt,  lately 
thrown  up,  constantly  ejected  vapour,  which  gushed  forth  with  a  hiss- 
falff  noise.  One  of  tnese  had  been  rent  asunder  by  some  violent  con- 
vulsion in  the  crater.  One  half,  which  had  fdlen  down,  presented  a 
flBnfused  heap  of  lava  in  cubical  blocks ;  but  the  port  that  remained 
ilanding,  exhibited  a  structure  like  that  of  columnar  basalt ;  and  the 
whole  was  covered  with  beautiful  crystallizations  of  the  salts  of  copper 
and  iron,  in  various  shades  of  green.'     pp.  10,  11. 

The  view  from  the  highest  peak,  Mr.  Auldjo  describes  as  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world,  the  height  of  the  mountain 
(4000  feet  above  the  sea)  not  being  so  great  that  the  features  of 
the  landscape  are  lost  or  too  much  diminished. 

'  To  the  S.E.,  the  island  of  Capri  rises  from  the  bosom  of  the  ocean, 
like  a  huge  fortress  protecting  the  entrance  of  the  bay.  On  turning 
to  the  left,  one  sees  the  Apennines,  embosoming  Massa  and  the  orange- 
covered  platform  of  Sorrento,  extend  their  dark  line  along  the  shore, 
as  far  as  Castell'  amarc,  over  which  towers  St.  Angelo,  their  highest 
point.  Thence,  their  lofty  range,  dividing  the  valley  of  the  Sarno 
nom  the  bay  of  Salerno,  runs  up  into  the  country,  until  it  makes  a 
bend  to  the  left,  and  forms  a  distant  semicircle  round  Vesuvius  and 
the  plain  of  Nola,  which  spreads  out  between  them*    Behind  Caserta, 


216  Auldjo's  Sketches  of  Vesum%M. 

these  picturesque  mountains  bide  their  heads  in  the  clouds^  thuugh^ 
times>  their  gray  and  often  snow-covered  summits^  sparkling  with  t 
rays  of  the  sun,  are  beautifully  defined  through  the  clear  atmosphe 
Monte  Circello>  and  the  hills  about  Gaeta^  terminate  the  line>  aga 
lost  in  the  sea^  but  enclosing  the  luxuriant  Campo  Felice^  with  t 
numberless  towns  scattered  over  its  surface.  The  whole  tract  fenc 
in  by  this  line  of  mountains^  and  lying  between  it  and  the  sea,  is 
volcanic  origin,  and  to  it  the  ancients  gave  the  name  of  Cam 
P/ilegrcei.  The  plain  is  perfectly  level  till  it  reaches  the  acclivity  < 
which  the  city  of  Naples  rises,  terrace  above  terrace,  each  built 
palaces  and  churches,  thickly  crowded  together,  and  crowned  by  t 
massive  walls  of  the  castle  of  St.  Elmo.  Behind  these  is  a  semicirai] 
hill,  splendid  and  verdant,  whereon  villas,  gardens,  and  orange-gror 
stand,  one  above  the  other,  in  rich  confusion.  Further  on,  the  Cami 
doli,  the  promontory-  of  Posilippo,  and  the  mountains  behind  the  b 
of  Baia,  raise  their  Leads,  and  form  a  fine  back-£pround  to  the  city.  1 
the  left  of  these,  the  high  conical  point  of  Ischia,  frowning  over  tl 
island  of  Procida,  and  a  long  line  of  blue  sea^  close  this  extensive  p 
norama.'     pp.  13,  14. 

From  the  structure  of  the  mountain,  it  is  apparent,  that  tl 
semi-circular  ridge  of  the  Monte  Somma,  now  fadng  the  pr 
sent  cone,  together  with  the  Pedementinay  were  originally  ii 
eluded  in  the  circumference  of  a  much  loftier  cone.  No  r 
cord  informs  us  when  that  part  of  which  the  Pedementiti 
formed  the  base,  was  carried  away ;  but  it  is  generally  thougl 
to  have  been  displaced  during  the  great  eruption  of  a.d.  J! 
Monte  Somma  being  the  only  part  of  the  original  crat 
which  resisted  the  shock.  Mr.  Auldjo  has  given  a  very  interes 
ing  description  of  the  phenomena  attending  the  last  two  eruption 
That  of  1831  was  accompanied  with  tremendous  earthquake 
which  were  felt  through  part  of  Calabria ;  and  by  one  of  thes 
the  beautiful  town  of  Catanzaro,  its  capital,  built  on  a  hill  eigl 
miles  from  the  sea,  was  laid  in  ruins,  nearly  at  the  same  hour  i 
which  the  shock  was  felt  at  Naples.  Calabria  has  for  ages  bee 
peculiarly  subject  to  frightful  convulsions,  which  have  rent  i 
mountains  into  the  most  wild  and  rugged  forms,  and  separati 
them  by  fearful  chasms.  As  to  Vesuvius,  the  great  vent-hole  < 
the  subterranean  furnace,  although  not  a  century  has  passei 
during  which  some  part  of  the  lands  around  its  base  has  not  bee 
ruined  by  earthquakes,  desolated  by  currents  of  lava,  or  coverc 
with  ashes, — the  lower  parts  of  the  mountain  are  still  studdc 
with  towns,  villages,  and  palaces,  rising  amid  vineyards  and  ga; 
dens,  *  the  property  of  men  who  forget  their  danger,  while  seel 
*  ing  to  derive  wealth  from  the  fertility  of  its  soil  !**  A  strikk 
and  aiTecting  emblem  of  the  moral  blindness  of  the  greater  part  ( 
mankind,  and  of  their  infatuated  pursuit  of  transitory  enjoyment 
forgetful  of  the  awful  condition  on  which  they  occupy  the  suifii 
that  covers  the  grave. 


(    217    ) 

Art.  III.  History  of  the  Reformed  Religion  in  France.  'By  the  Rev. 
Edward  Sxnedley,  M.A.,  late  Fellow  of  Sidney  Sussex  College^ 
Cambridge.  Vol.  I.  (Theological  Library,  Vol.  III.)  pp.  399. 
London,  1832. 

T^HERE  are  many  links  which  tend  to  preserve  a  degree  of 
connection  between  the  departments  of  knowledge  apparently 
at  the  greatest  remove  from  each  other.  The  successful  appli- 
cation of  the  human  faculties  in  one  path,  is  something  done  to- 
ward  their  more  effective  exercise  in  others.  The  circumstances 
which  give  existence  to  a  Chaucer,  or  a  Petrarch,  may  be  expected 
to  prepare  the  way  for  a  Michel  Angelo,  or  a  Rafiael ;  and  the 
state  of  things  which  ministers  to  the  growth  of  such  spirits,  will 
hardly  fail  to  call  forth  a  Columbus,  a  Galileo,  or  a  Bacon.  The 
man  who  excels  in  any  one  liberal  pursuit,  will  generally  imbibe 
a  sympathy  with  more,  and  must  impart  the  aid  of  that  sympathy, 
more  or  less,  to  his  fellows.  Mental  power  is  constrained  to 
venerate  its  like,  and  must  contribute  to  produce  it,  though  the 
objects  to  which  it  is  applied  in  its  different  possessors,  may  have 
little  in  common. 

But,  if  this  reflective  influence  belong,  in  some  d^ree,  to  all 
the  matters  of  human  culture,  it  must  be  more  especially  observable 
in  such  as  are  less  abstract  in  their  character,  and  most  of  all  in 
religion,  which  connects  itself  more  readily  with  the  mass,  and 
takes  the  strongest  hold  on  all  the  springs  of  action.  If  the  re- 
novation of  one  science,  therefore,  be  the  certain  prelude  to  a 
dmilar  process  elsewhere,  the  renovation  of  Christianity  must  be 
Ae  precursor  to  a  similar  change  in  regard  to  every  path  of 
human  improvement 

What  it  would  have  been  reasonable,  in  this  respect,  to  an- 
ticipate, has  become  history.  The  collateral  benefits  of  the  Pro- 
testant Reformation  may  be  estimated  in  some  degree  from  the 
present  condition  of  the  states  by  which  its  claims  have  been  re- 
jected. The  rod  of  the  oppressor,  by  which  the  nations  had  been 
80  long  afflicted,  was  much  too  powerful  to  admit  of  being  broken' 
by  any  force  short  of  that  which  religion  could  supply.  It  re- 
quirea  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  future,  to  undo  the  thraldom 
of  the  present.  But,  these  mighty  influences  once  brought  into 
action,  the  eflect  was  wide,  and  deep,  and  permanent.  Tne  state 
of  Italy,  Portugal,  and  Spain,  improved  or  checked,  as  even  they 
have  been,  by  their  juxta-position  with  Protestant  communities, 
may  suggest  some  notion  ot  what  must  have  continued  to  be  the 
condition  of  Europe,  apart  from  the  agency  of  that  momentous 
revolution  which  armed  the  aristocracy  and  tne  people,  the  prince 
and  the  peasant,  in  defence  of  a  common  liberty.  That  great 
dange  consisted  mainly,  in  what  mainly  distinguished  it  from 
aU  other  changes-Hthe  elevation  of  the  people;  and  served, 

VOL.  IX, — K.».  D  D 


218      Smedley's  History  of  the  Reformation  in  France. 

necessarily,  to  humanize  the  spirit  of  all  secular  government,  and 
to  give  more  equality  and  fairness  to  the  working  of  the  Bocial 
system.  In  common  with  every  great  event,  it  had  its  incidental 
evils ;  but  it  had  also  its  incidental  good.  While  it  conferred  on 
some  states  their  first  independent  existence,  it  raised  others 
much  above  their  former  level.  At  the  same  time,  it  placed  ail 
the  European  powers  in  such  new  relations  to  each  other,  that  a 
sort  of  national  confederation  sprang  up,  such  as  at  once  put  an 
end  to  those  tendencies  toward  a  degrading  universal  monarchv, 
which  had  been  long  at  work.  The  struggle  between  the  Old 
and  the  New,  forced  the  frame-work  of  European  society  into  the 
semblance  of  two  grand  republics,  and  rendered  the  maxims  of  a 
more  liberal  policy  imperative,  as  the  means  of  self-preservation. 
The  light  shed  by  the  Reformation  on  all  the  objects  which 
come  within  the  circle  of  our  knowledge,  is  apparent  in  every 
page  of  history,  from  the  age  of  Luther  to  our  own.  On  tbu 
pomt,  however,  we  shall  allow  a  writer  to  speak,  who  will  not  be 
Suspected  of  a  disposition  to  overrate  the  good  effects  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion.  ^  The  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century,*  says 
D'^Alembert,  ^  saw  a  rapid  change  in  the  religion  and  the  system 

*  of  a  great  part  of  Europe.     The  new  doctrines  of  the  reformers, 

*  supported  on  the  one  hand,  and  opposed  on  the  other,  with  that 

*  warmth  which  the  interests  of  God,  well  or  ill  understood,  can 

*  alone  inspire,  equally  compelled  their  partisans  and  their  adver- 


spread 

*  objects  also  which  seemed  most  foreign  to  those  disputes*^ 
(Elemens  de  Philosophies  1.)  To  this  it  might  with  fairness  have 
been  added,  that  these  effects  of  reformed  Christianity  were  naturally 
followed  by  a  kind  of  rc-action  in  its  favour ;  so  that  it  has  derived 
the  means  of  its  still  advancing  purification,  from  that  genend 
Emulation  which  no  strength  inferior  to  its  own  could  have  pro- 
duced. 

Could  the  extent  of  the  change  which  was  to  result  from  the 
labours  of  the  Ileformers  have  been  foreseen,  there  were  facta 
which  seemed  to  point  towards  France  as  a  country  that  would  be 
aflected  by  the  new  order  of  things,  almost  beyond  any  other. 
The  very  fickleness  of  the  Gallic  character, — a  cniirge  chronicled 
against  them  since  the  days  of  Caesar, — seemed  to  favour  this  ooii- 
clusion ;  and  still  more  their  long  boasted  stand  against  the  des- 
potic pretensions  of  the  papacy,  and  in  behalf  of,  what'  they  were 
pleased  to  call,  *  the  liberties  of  the  Gallican  Church.'  But  these 
circumstances,  and  others  of  the  same  description,  were  to  be 
counteracted ;  and  after  a  struggle,  hardly  less  determined  or 
protracted  than  was  maintained  in  our  own  country,  the  French 
people  were  to  find  themselves  thrown  upon  the  mercies  of  a  pure 


Smedley^s  HUtory  of  the  Reformation  in  France.      219 

despotism,  and  had  to  choose  between  embracing  a  Christianity 
88  corrupt,  upon  the  whole,  as  any  tiling  existing  in  the  age  be- 
fore Luther,  or  an  abandonment  of  religious  faith  altogether.  It 
18  well  known,  that  the  Author  of  the  *'  Decline  and  Fall,"'*  re- 
commended Dr.  Robertson  to  give  the  story  of  the  French  Pro- 
testants a  place  among  his  works.  But  if  it  be  true,  as  Mr. 
Hallam  has  somewhere  said,  that  history  is  ^  the  sworn  slave  of 
success^  it  was  not  with  such  a  theme  that  even  the  genius  of 
Kobertson  could  have  made  any  great  impression.  It  is,  indeed, 
a  remarkable  fact  in  the  history  of  the  French  people,  that,  as  a 
nation,  they  should  always  appear  as  though  incapable  of  choosing 
a  middle  course.  The  extremes  of  despotism  or  anarchy,  of  the 
worst  religion  or  no  religion,  are  the  connexions  in  which  history 
is  generally  presenting  tnem  ; — the  minority,  capable  of  wiser  and 
better  things,  being  always  borne  down  by  an  overwhelming  ma- 
jority, impelled  as  by  the  force  of  intoxication. 

We  would  hope,  however,  that  the  time  past  may  be  sufRcient 
for  our  neighbours  to  have  wrought  thus  extravagantly.  As  to 
the  volume  before  us,  though  relating,  as  we  have  intimated,  to  a 
theme  which,  both  in  its  progress  and  its  end,  draws  somewhat 
too  largely  on  our  painful  sympathies,  we  can  readily  bear  our 
testimony  to  the  care,  the  candour,  and  the  general  ability  with 
which  it  is  executed.  It  must  be  admitted,  that  its  subject  fur- 
nishes some  of  the  most  valuable  lessons  to  be  derived  from 
modem  history ;  and  to  most  of  these  the  Author  is  capable  of 
doing  ample  justice.  The  work,  if  completed  as  begun,  will  be 
the  most  interesting  and  valuable,  on  the  subject,  with  which  we 
9ite  acquainted.  The  present  volume  commences  with  the  first 
appearance  of  the  Reformed  Doctrine  in  France,  and  conducts 
the  reader  through  all  the  perils  to  which  it  was  exposed,  down 
to  the  eve  of  the  memorable  St.  Bartholomew.  The  persons 
occurring  most  frequently  in  the  narrative  are,  Francis  I.,  Henry 
II.,  Francis  II.,  Charles  IX.,  Catharine  de  Medicis,  the  Duke 
of  Guise,  Admiral  Coligny,  the  King  of  Navarre,  the  Prince  of 
Conde,  the  Cardinal  Lorraine,  De  THopital,  Calvin,  Beza,  and 
some  other  names  less  familiar  to  general  readers,  but  fitted  to 
awaken  an  eaual,  and,  in  some  instances,  a  stronger  interest. 
Mr.  Smedley  nas  made  a  skilful  use  of  his  materials ;  and  has 
prudently  consulted  the  taste  of  some  of  his  readers,  by  the  in- 
troduction of  seasonable  and  illustrative  anecdotes.  The  first 
chapter  describes  a  theatrical  performance  in  the  palace  of  Francis 
I. ;  shewing  that  the  parties  who  were  in  the  practice  of  commit- 
ting the  unhappy  Lutherans  to  the  flames  with  studied  barbarity, 
coold  convert  the  excitement  occasioned  by  their  doctrine  into  a 
source  of  amusement. 

'  In  1524,  the  king  himself  did  not  refuse  to  smile  at  a  lisht  in- 
terlude^ represented  in  one  of  the  saloons  of  his  own  palace,  the  plot 

D  d2 


320         Smedley's  History  of  the  ^eformaikm  in  Framor. 

of  which^  as  it  has  been  banded  down  to  us,  oonld  •cnrody  be  agree- 
able to  any  very  zealous  Romanist.  In  this  Tragedy^  as  it  is  strangely 
termed,  when  the  curtain  draws  up>  the  Pope  appeared  seated  on  a 
lofty  throne,  crowned  with  his  tiara>  and  encircled  with  a  tbning 
of  cardinals,  bishops,  and  mendicant  ^ars.  In  the  middle  of  the 
hall  was  a  huge  pile  of  charcoal  smouldering,  and  scarcely  betray- 
ing  any  sign  of  the  flame  that  lurked  beneath,  till  it  was  approached 
by  a  venerable  grey-haired  man  with  a  mask  imitating  the  mtares  of 
Reuchlin.  At  first  he  appeared  as  if  alarmed  at  the  unexpected  sight 
of  the  large  and  brilliant  company  of  ecclesiastics ;  but  speedily  raoo- 
▼ering  himself,  he  addressed  them  on  church  abuses,  and  the  neceanty 
of  rerorm ;  and  then  approaching  the  embers,  he  roused  them  with  his 
staff,  and  revealed  the  glowing  charcoal  underneath.  As  Reuchlin  with- 
drew, Erasmus  entered,  and  was  immediately  recognized  by  the  car- 
dinals, with  whom  he  seemed  on  terms  of  old  acquaintance.  In  his 
speech  on  the  diseased  condition  of  the  Church,  he  did  not  probe  the 
wound  to  its  core,  but  soothed  and  mitigated  its  virulence  by  mild  and 
lenitive  applications,  not  declaring  himself  avowedly  a  roe  to  either 
party,  deprecating  any  sudden  change  in  matters  of  so  deep  a  moment^ 
and  strenuously  recommending  time  as  the  most  able  physician. 
When  he  sat  down  behind  the  cardinals,  they  paid  him  distrngnished 
attention,  evidently  dreading  his  opposition  no  less  than  they  coveted 
his  support.  Next  appeared  a  true  counterpart  of  the  Talus  of  Spen- 
cer, a  man  all  iron,  both  in  soul  and  body.  He  was  intended  for  Hat- 
ten,  and  bursting  out  into  a  furious  declamation,  Jhe  taxed  the  conclave, 
which  he  set  at  nought,  as  the  authors  of  all  corruptioii  in  religion, 
and  openly  denounced  the  Pope  as  Antichrist,  the  ravager  and  destroyer 
of  Christendom.  Seizing  a  pair  of  bellows,  he  hurried  to  the  emborsy 
and  blew  them  violently  into  a  flame,  so  fierce  as  to  terrify  the  Holy 
College.  While,  however,  he  was  still  blowing  and  fuming,  he  feu 
down  dead  on  the  spot,  and  the  cardinals,  suppressing  all  marks  either 
of  joy  or  grief,  earned  him  away  without  any  funeral  service.  Lastly 
entered  one  in  motley,  whose  monkish  garb  declared  him  to  be  Luther. 
Like  a  second  Isaac,  he  bore  a  pile  of  logs  upon  his  riioolder,  and 
cried  out,  "  I  will  make  this  little  fire  shine  through  the  whole  world, 
so  that  Christ,  who  has  well  nigh  perished  by  your  devices^  shall  be 
restored  to  life  in  spite  of  you  ! "  Then,  tossing  the  Iocs  upon  the 
charcoal,  he  kindled  them  into  a  blaze,  which  illuminated  the  whole 
chamber,  and  seemed  to  shine  to  the  very  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth. 
Thereat  the  monster  of  a  monk  broke  hastily  away,  and  the  Pope  and 
cardinals,  quaking  with  fear,  thronged  together  in  close  delibanation. 
Then  the  Pope,  with  many  tears,  demanded  assistance  and  advice  in  a 
short  and  piteous  speech.  When  he  had  concluded,  up  rose  one  of  the 
mendicants,  a  round  big-bellied  and  sleek-headed  little  brother,  who 
proffered  ready  aid  to  the  Pontiff.  The  holy  father's  diploma,  hereto- 
fore, he  said,  had  constituted  the  members  of  his  order  defenders  of  the 
true  faith,  and  inquisitors  into  heretical  pravity.  If  St.  Peter  would 
a  second  time  rely  upon  them,  and  place  ml  the  burden  on  their 
shoulders,  they  would  pledge  themselves  to  carry  the  matter  throogh 
to  his  entire  satisfaction.  Tlie  cardinals  hailed  this  proposal  with  ao« 
damations,  and  urged  upon  his  Holiness,  that  those  men  who  had  dealt 


Smedley'*8  History  of  the  Reformation  in  France.        221 

90f  wen  with  John  Hubs  at  Constance^  were,  of  all  other^  the  most  fit 
Ments  whom  he  could  select  for  the  present  dangerous  crisis.  Bre- 
thren^ said  the  Pope,  addressing  the  mendicants,  if  indeed  you  will 
repeat  your  great  work  as  at  Constance,  boundless  are  the  rewards 
that  you  may  expect.  Your  four>fold  order  shall  no  longer  wear  rags, 
but  be  richly  dressed,  ride  on  horses  and  in  litters,  throw  purple  robes 
on  their  shoulders,  carry  mitres  on  their  brows,  and  be  fed,  moreover, 
with  the  f&ttest  bishopricks.  Go  and  prosper ;  stay  our  falling  domi- 
nion, and,  for  the  safety  of  us  all,  first  extinguish  this  fire,  kindled  the 
Lord  knows  how.  The  friars  at  the  word  hurried  to  the  flames,  and 
pouring  on  them  a  vast  quantity  of  neat  wine,  raised  them  at  once  to 
M>  fearful  a  height,  that  the  whole  conclave  was  stupified,  and  the 
mendicants  themselves  fled  with  terror. 

'  When  the  cardinals  had  recovered  a  little,  they  addressed  a  sup- 
plication to  the  Pope.  "  Most  Holy  Father,  to  thee  is  given  authority 
DOth  in  heaven  and  on  earth ;  quench  the  fire  with  thy  malediction, 
that  it  may  not  overpower  us.  We  know  that  there  is  not  any  ele- 
ment in  the  creation  which  must  not  subside  by  thy  word.  Heaven 
and  earth  obey  thee ;  at  thy  bidding,  even  purgatory  absolves  or  retains 
the  souls  of  the  departed.  Wherefore,  by  thy  saintly  ofiice,  attack 
this  fire  with  sound  anathemas,  lest  we  become  a  by-word  and  a  re- 
proach." "  Cursed  be  he,"  was  the  Pope's  apostrophe  in  consequence, 
to  the  fire,  **  who  lighted  thee  !  Darknesss  overcome  thee,  nieht  sur- 
round thee,  that  thou  mayest  no  longer  burn.  May  he  who  pued  thee 
^th  fiiel  be  stricken  witn  the  sores  of  Egypt,  incurable,  in  his  lower 
bowels.  May  God  strike  him  with  darkness  and  blindness,  and  mad- 
ness, so  that  ne  mav  fumble  in  noon  day,  even  as  a  blind  man  fumbles 
in  the  night !"  When  the  hapless  Pope  discovered  that  the  fire  was 
insensible  to  his  curses,  and  that  he  was  powerless  against  the  ele- 
ments, he  expired  in  a  paroxysm  of  rage ;  and  at  the  sight,  the  whole 
a^mbly  broke  up,  convulsed  with  laughter.'    pp.  13— -17« 

This  characteristic  scene  is  taken  from  a  document  attached  to 
the  second  volume  of  the  Historia  Reformationis^  by  Gcrdcsius ; 
•—an  author,  we  may  observe,  whose  valuable  labours  have  not 
been  sufficiently  attended  to  by  our  writers  on  ecclesiastical  affairs. 
Dr.  M^Crie  has  shewn  the  use  that  may  be  made  of  his  researches; 
and  we  are  pleased  to  see  Mr.  Smedley  following  his  example. 
In  the  original,  the  more  racy  and  amusing  points  in  the  above 
description  are  given  in  itaucs,  which  ada  much  to  its  force, 
though  hardly  comporting  with  the  gravity  of  history.  The 
following  account  of  heroic  suffering  in  the  cause  of  truth,  derived 
from  the  testimony  of  the  great  Erasmus,  is  truly  interesting. 
It  relates  to  a  period  before  any  reformed  church  existed  in 
France. 

'  Louis  Berquin,  a  gentleman  of  Picardy,  employed  in  the  honour- 
able ofiice  of  King's  Advocate,  had  been  conricted  some  time  back  of 
having  translated  into  French  certain  Mnritings  of  Luther ;  and  as  he 
obstinately  declined  to  retract  his  adherence  to  the  obnoxious  doctrines, 
he  would  even  then  have  been  led  to  the  stake,  but  for  the  intercession 


2SS      Smedley*«  History  of  the  ReformaHon  in  France^- 

of  powerful  friends.  Arrested  a  second  tinie>  about  the  seoaon  of  the 
disturbance  at  Meaux,  it  seemed  as  if  he  must  encounter  certain  de- 
struction. Nevertheless,  so  energetic  were  the  representations  offered 
in  his  behalf  by  Queen  IVIargaret  of  Navarre  to  her  brother,  Francis  I.> 
at  that  moment  prisoner  at  Madrid,  that  the  king  exercised  from  his 
distant  confinement  the  length  of  arm  for  which  royalty  is  proverbial, 
and  commanded  a  suspension  of  the  process.  It  was  not,  however,  till 
the  return  of  the  monarch  from  confinement,  and  even  then  with  a 
sullen  and  reluctant  obedience,  that  the  parliament  allowed  Berquin 
to  be  discharged  from  the  Conciergerie.  when  Francis  sent  the  pro- 
vost of  Paris  to  demand  his  release,  and  in  case  of  refusal  to  force  the 
gates  of  his  dungeon,  the  magistrate  was  denied  all  positive  answer, 
and  coldly  informed  that  he  might  execute  his  commission.  A  few 
years  later,  when  the  king  was  closely  occupied  by  the  troubles  of 
Italy  and  the  ambitious  schemes  projected  in  the  League  of  Cambrai, 
he  forgot  or  abandoned  his  former  client,  and  the  long  protracted  and 
persevering  vengeance  of  the  parliament  was  then  fully  eratified. 

'  Of  the  charges  upon  which  Benquin  was  condemned,  few  particu- 
lars have  reached  us ;  for  Erasmus,  from  whom  we  derive  a  minute 
account  of  his  behaviour  at  the  stake,  professes  his  own  unacquaintanoe 
with  them,  and  on  one  point  alone  declares  his  confidence — that,  what- 
ever might  be  his  imputed  errors,  Berquin  was  convinced  in  his  heart 
that  he  maintained  tbe  truth.  The  victim  was  above  forty  years  of 
age;  so  pure  and  blameless  in  his  life,  that  scandal  had  never  rested  on 
his  name ;  towards  his  friends,  he  exhibited  singular  gentleness  of  af- 
fection, towards  the  poor  and  needy,  unbounded  charity.  To  the  ex- 
ternal ordinances  of  the  Church  he  paid  all  due  observance,  attending 
regularly  to  days  of  fcisting  or  of  festival,  to  mass  and  sermons,  and  to 
whatever  else  might  contribute  to  edification.  Free  from  guile,  liberal 
in  disposition,  upright  in  principles,  he  never  inflicted  or  provoked  in- 
jury, neither  was  there  any  thing  in  his  whole  life  unbecoming  of  true 
Christian  piety.  His  friends  were  probably  mistaken,  when  they  de- 
clared him  to  be  most  alien  from  the  doctrines  of  Luther ;  thev  were 
right,  doubtless,  when  they  added,  that  his  chief  crime  wbh  the  in- 
genuous avowal  of  dislike  to  certain  troublesome  divines  and  monks, 
not  less  savage  than  stupid.  Some  of  the  heterodox  propositions  noted 
in  one  of  his  publications  were,  that  the  Scriptures  ought  to  be  read  to 
the  people  at  large  in  the  vernacular  tongue ;  a  remonstrance  against 
the  invocation  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  often  substituted  in  sermons  in  liea 
of  that  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  a  denial  that  she  was  the  fountain  of  all 
grace ;  and  a  wish  that  certain  expressions,  which,  in  the  Vesper  ser- 
vice, contrary  to  the  unvarying  tenor  of  Scripture,  designated  her  as  our 
life  and  hope,  should  be  restricted  to  the  Son,  to  whom  they  properly 
appertainca. 

'  The  process  against  Berquin  was  submitted  to  the  decision  of 
twelve  judges,  who,  as  the  day  of  sentence  approached,  committed  him 
to  prison,  an  evil  omen  of  their  intended  severity.  He  was  condemned 
in  the  first  instance,  after  public  abjuration  of  his  heresy  and  the 
burning  of  his  books  by  the  executioner,  to  be  bored  through  the 
tongue,  and  committed  to  perpetual  imprisonment.  Astonished  at  a 
sentence  thus  harsh  and  unmerited,  he  spoke  of  an  appeal  to  the  king 


Stned}ey'*8  Hisiary  of  the  Refarmatum  in  France.      9C3 

and  to  the  pope;  and  liis  persecutors;  indignant  at  the  menace,  informed 
him,  that  as  he  declined  their  original  award,  they  would  effectuall j 
prevent  his  power  of  appeal  by  condemning  him  at  once  to  the  flames. 
Six  hundred  armed  men  surrounded  the  Place  de  Gr^ve  on  the  day  of 
his  execution.  A  by-stander  close  to  the  stake,  when  Berquin  ap* 
proached  it,  perceived  in  him  no  change  of  countenance,  no  gesture 
betraying  agitation.  ''  You  would  have  said  ",  are  the  strong  words 
employed,  "  that  he  was  meditating  in  his  library  upon  his  studies,  or 
in  the  church  upon  his  Ood."  Not  even  when  the  executioner  read  in 
a  hoarse  voice  his  accusation  and  sentence,  did  he  shew  one  symptom 
of  diminished  fortitude.  When  ordered  to  dismount  from  the  cart,  he 
descended  cheerfully  without  a  moment's  delay.  His  bearing,  however, 
by  no  means  indicated  that  stony  want  of  feeling  which  brutal  hardi- 
hood sometimes  generates  in  atrocious  criminals,  but  was  rather  the 
effect  of  a  tranquil  spirit  at  peace  with  God  and  with  itself.  The  few 
words  which  he  attempted  to  utter  to  the  people,  were  rendered  wholly 
inaudible  by  the  shouts  of  the  soldiery  instructed  to  drown  his  last 
speech,  if  he  should  attempt  to  make  one;  and  so  effectually  had  the 
representations  of  the  priests  steeled  the  hearts  of  the  ignorant 
spectators,  that  when  he  was  strangled  at  the  stake,  (the  only  mercy 
accorded  to  him,)  not  a  single  '' Jesu"  was  heard  from  the  populace, 
ready  as  they  always  were  to  bestow  such  aspirations  on  murderers 
and  parricides.  "  Thus  much,"  says  the  bearer  of  that  "  great  in- 
jured name  "  from  whom  we  have  borrowed  the  above  narrative,  who 
never  failed  in  wisdom  to  detect  folly  and  iniquity,  or  in  honesty  to 
visit  them  with  the  ridicule  which  he  thought  their  best  corrective ; 
"  Thus  much  have  I  to  relate  to  you  concerning  Berquin :  if  he  died 
with  a  sound  conscience,  as  I  venly  hope  he  did  die,  tell  me  in  return, 
whose  end  could  be  happier." — Erasmus  Epist.  CLX/    pp.  18 — ^21.  • 

The  effect  of  such  proceedings  was  not  the  extinction  of  the 
reformed  doctrine.  The  martyrdom  of  Berquin  took  place  in 
1529.  In  1555,  the  first  Protestant  church  in  France  was  formed. 
Only  four  years  later,  a  national  synod  of  such  churches  was  con-> 
vened  ;  and  in  1562,  they  are  said  to  have  counted  not  fewer  than 
2140  congregations.  So  great  were  their  numbers  in  Paris,  that 
between  30,0(30  and  40,000  persons  had  assembled  on  the  same 
spot  for  service.  Many  also  of  the  nobility,  and  of  the  court, 
were  either  openly  or  secretly  with  them.  Did  our  limits  permit, 
we  could  wilUngly  trace  the  varying  condition  of  these  confessors 
and  martyrs  to  the  point  at  which  the  present  volume  closes ;  but 
a  few  remarks  on  the  evidence  that  the  massacre  on  the  eve  of 
St.  Bartholomew  was  preconcerted,  must  conclude  the  present 
article. 

Our  readers  will  remember,  that,  a  few  years  ago,  a  spirited 
controversy  on  this  point  was  carried  on  between  Dr.  Lingard 
and  Dr.  Allen.  The  former  maintained,  on  the  authority  of  cer-» 
tain  statements  made  by  the  Duke  of  Anjou  while  in  Poland, 
before  his  accession  to  the  throne  as  Henry  III.,  that  the  mas- 
sacre had  resulted  from  the  failure  of  an  attempt  contrived  by  the 


324      Smedley's  History  of  the  Reformation  in  France* 

queen-mother  and  the  duke,  vithout  the  knowledge  of  the  king^ 
to  assassinate  the  admiral  Coligny;  that  it  was  not  until  the 
failure  of  this  attempt,  that  any  thought  was  entertained  of  de- 
stroying both  the  admiral  and  his  adherents,  but  that,  partly  by 
insinuations,  and  partly  by  threats,  a  mandate  to  that  effect  was 
obtained  from  the  monarch.  Thus,  the  intent  to  kill  is  restricted 
to  one  victim,  and  all  that  followed  is  made  to  be  the  effect  of 
accident,  panic,  and  the  moment.  But  Dr.  Allen  has  shewn,  on 
the  testimony  of  Cardinal  D'^Ossat,  that  an  arrangement  em- 
bracing the  most  ample  ^  vengeance*  on  the  Hugonot  party,  had 
been  long  formed,  and  conducted  with  the  most  consummate  arti- 
fice, on  the  part  of  the  king  and  others.  The  reason,  however,  of 
our  adverting  to  this  matter  at  present,  is  to  observe,  that,  since 
the  controversy  between  Dr.  Allen  and  Dr.  Lingard,  a  volume 
has  appeared  m  Paris,  entitled  ^^  Monumens  Inedits  de  mis-^ 
toire  de  France:  1.  Correspondence  de  Charles  IX.  et  de  Man^ 
dclot^  Gouverneur  de  Lyon^  pendant  Fannie  1572.  2.  Lettres 
des  Seize  au  Roi  dTEspagne^  Philippe  117*  This  work  exposes 
the  falsehood  of  Dr.  Lingard^s  account,  in  a  manner  which  must 

Imt  an  end  to  all  further  discussion  relating  to  it  From  the 
etters  of  the  king,  and  of  the  queen-mother,  contained  in  this 
volume,  and  from  the  answer  to  them,  it  appears  that,  some  days 
before  the  attempt  on  the  life  of  the  admiral,  and  nearly  a  fort- 
night before  the  massacre,  expedients  were  adopted  to  prevent 
the  flight  of  the  unhappy  victims,  whose  sacrifice  was  to  prove  an 
occasion  of  so  much  joy  to  the  veteran  cut-throat  then  filling  the 
chair  of  St.  Peter  *.  We  regret  that  Mr.  Smedley  does  not  ap- 
pear to  be  acquainted  with  the  publication  we  have  noticed ;  and 
as  his  next  volume  will  commence  with  an  account  of  the  proceed- 
ings in  Paris  on  the  night  of  the  23d  of  August,  1572,  we  strongly 
recommend  it  to  his  careful  perusal. 

*  The  question  of  premeditation  is  also  examined  at  leneth  in  the 
3d  Vol.  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh's  History  of  Ensland  (Lardner's 
Cyclop.  XXX VII.)^  by  his  Continuator.  Viscount  Chateaubriand  has 
made  a  feeble  attempt  to  disprove  the  premeditation^  on  the  authority 
of  the  secret  despatches  of  Salviati,  the  papal  nuncio,  discovered  in  the 
Vatican.  From  these  he  made  copies  and  extracts,  which  be  commn- 
nicated  to  the  late  Sir  James  Mackintosh ;  and  they  are  given  in  the 
Appendix  to  this  volume.  The  whole  evidence  of  the  Nuncio,  however, 
consists  of  bare  and  brief  assertion,  without  a  syllable  of  direct  or  dr- 
cnmstantial  proof ;  and  it  is  shewn,  that  Salviati  actually  refutes  him- 
self. Besides  which,  he  was  not  in  the  confidence  of  Charles  and  Ca« 
therine,  who  communicated  with  the  Pope,  not  through  the  Nundo^ 
but  through  their  ambassador  Ferralz,  or  a  special  envoy. 


(    225    ) 

Art.  tV.  Essaffs  on  Religious  Subjects.    By  a  Layman.     Foolscap 
8yo.  pp.  460.    London^  1829. 

A  N  involuntary  feeling  leads  one  to  look  for  something  imper- 
"^  tinent  or  obtrusive,  something  slenderly  filled  out  with  ge- 
nuine knowledge,  something  half-shapen,  something  untimely^ 
something  out  of  joint  and  out  of  order,  something,  in  a  word, 
which  had  better  have  been  mused  upon  in  private,  or  talked  of 
in  a  snug  circle,  than  hung  up  on  high  for  the  public  gaze,  when 
one  opens  a  book,  on  a  professional  theme^  by  one  who  avows 
himself  to  be — ^not  of  the  profession. 

It  is  natural  to  ask,  If  a  man  be  indeed  competent  to  the  sub- 
ject he  undertakes,  why  is  it  that  he  is  not  of  the  profession  P 
Has  he  been  thrown  out  of  it  ?  Has  he  been  foiled  again  and 
agun  in  his  attempts  to  enter  it  ?  Or  does  he  belong  to  that  in^ 
nominate  class  of  shy  invisibles,  of  impalpable  and  untenable 
skulkers^  that  lurk  here  and  there,  but  are  nowhere  present  to  anjr 
assignable  purpose ;  that  are  never  to  be  held  down  to  a  definite 
af&ir,  and  that,  with  perhaps  many  talents,  and  many  endow- 
ments, and  much  to  say,  actually  do  nothing  and  say  nothing  which 
can  be  spoken  of,  looked  at,  or  turned  to  any  effective  account  in 
the  real  business  of  life  ?  If  so,  then  be  sure  there  must  be  a 
capital  flaw  or  a  jar  in  the  mane's  understanding ;  and  it  is  twenty 
to  one  bis  book  will  be  like  himself,  too  good  to  be  treated  with 
sheer  contempt,  yet  not  good  enough  to  stand  in  the  place 
which,  had  it  been  only  a  little  better,  it  would  certainly  have  oc- 
cupied. Or  is  this  same  intruder,  a  taster,  a  dabbler,  an  ama- 
teur ?  Then  away  with  him  at  once  from  the  platform  of  serious 
affairs  and  momentous  interests,  where  his  presence  is  an  intoler- 
able burden !  Hinder  us,  we  will  say,  hinder  us  by  open  opposition,  if 
you  will ; — wage  war  against  our  undertakings ;  — slander  us,  arid 
entreat  us  evil  in  every  way  which  bold  hostility  thinks  of;  but 
we  pray  do  not  come  mincing  on,  where  we  have  a  combat  to 
achieve,  with  the  simpering  impertinences  of  volunteer  bravery.— 
Tread,  if  you  please,  with  a  manly  step,  the  road  we  are  treading ; 
but  do  not  advance  tip^toe  and  with  a  measured  step,  like  the 
Aurora  or  the  Flora  or  the  Hebe  of  a  fire  screen  ! 

Yes,  it  must  be  confessed  that  all  this  spontaneous  prejudice 
lies  against  the  character  and  pretensions  of  a  non-professional 
meddler  in  professional  matters.  And  other  prejudices  too,  of  a 
more  distinct  sort,  which  we  do  not  mean  here  to  take  account  of, 
set  themselves  in  array  to  repel  such  intrusions.  Nevertheless^ 
there  are  instances  forthcoming,  quite  enough  to  warrant  the  brin^ 
ing  in  of  a  rule  which  shall  serve  to  protect  and  even  encoinr^re 
lawless  invasions  of  this  sort ;  and  our  authoritative  and  weU- 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  E  E 


326  Lay  Theohgians. 

pondered  conclusion  is — the  grudging  looks  of  certain  personages 
notwithstanding — that  leave  should  be  granted,  henceforth,  ss 
heretofore,  to  men  (and  women  too)  though  not  licenced  by  the 
college  of  physicians,  to  report  what  they  may  have  chanced  to 
see  and  know  of  disease  ana  of  methods  of  cure : — also,  and  in 
like  manner,  to  gentlemen,  not  of  the  Temple,  to  speculate,  to 
speak,  and  to  write  upon  codes,  statutes,  and  constitutions; — and 
especially,  to  all  erudite  Laymen  to  compose  and  print — ^*  Essays 
on  Religious  Subjects ^\  or  other  lucubrations  upon  the  sacred 
matters  of  faith  or  practice. 

We  say,  kspecially  to  Laymen  ;  and  we  have  said  it 
wittingly,  and  for  reasons  we  can  assign  :  as  for  example. 

1st,  Monopolies,  patents,  and  exclusive  pretensions,  of  all  sorts, 
are  just  now  melting  away  like  ice-bergs  that  have  drifted  down 
into  lat.  55^  ;  and  it  would  be  peculiarly  inexpedient,  at  this 
moment,  so  stiffly  to  insist  upon  clerical  privilege,  as  should  pro- 
voke rude  assault  upon  what,  after  all,  we  do  not  wish  to  see 
broken  down  and  trampled  in  the  dust.  Better  to  afford  a  litde 
grace  to  well-mannered  intruders,  who,  with  civility,  may  be  re- 
tained as  friends  and  coadjutors,  than  hunt  them  out  of  the 
presence,  vi  et  armis, 

2dly,  and  to  be  quite  serious. — It  must  surely  be  granted,  that 
the  means  of  becoming  well  and  truly  informed  on  matters  of 
Theology,  whether  critical  or  abstruse,  do  actually  lie  within  the 
reach  of  well  educated  men,  although  they  may  never  have 
heard  a  divinity  lecture,  and  never  stood  either  in  desk  or  pul- 
])it.  Theology,  in  this  respect,  differs  materially  from  medicine 
and  law,  of  which  no  man  can  be  thoroughly  and  practically 
informed,  who  has  not,  in  fact,  passed  through  a  process  which, 
whether  or  not  he  bears  professional  titles  and  a  certain  garb, 
would  qualify  him  to  challenge  any  honours.  Who  will  say 
that  a  man  of  piety,  leisure,  and  learning,  may  not  have  much 
to  say,  that  is  worth  the  hearing,  on  theological  subjects,  even  if 
he  would  make  a  poor  figure  in  front  of  a  thousand  faces,  and 
may  be  quite  unfit  to  exercise  ecclesiastical  supremacies. 

.'idly,  and  to  be  still  more  serious.  Must  it  not  be  granted, 
as  a  i)rerogative  which  a  religious  and  well  informed  layman  may 
justly  allege  in  defence  of  his  intrusion  upon  sacred  ground, 
that  there  is  a  vividness  of  feeling  in  matters  of  religion,  that 
there  is  a  freshness  of  the  spirit,  that  there  is  as  well  an  external 
as  an  internal  ikdkpkndknce,  that  there  is  a  power  of  abstrac- 
tion, and  lastly,  that  there  is  a  certain  secular  vigour  of  judgt* 
ment;  all  of  which  may,  with  great  advantage,  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  treatment  of  sacred  themes,  and  all  of  which  are  espe- 
cially liable  to  be  impaired,  or  curtailed,  or  quite  excluded,  oy 
the  intellectual  habits,  by  the  onerous  duties,  and  by  the  profc 


Lay  Theologians.  2^ 

monal  motives  of.  the  preacher,  the  pastor,  and  the  ecclesiastica' 
dignitary? 

We  verily  believe,  that  a  decisive  answer  must  be  given  in  the 
affinnative  to  this  hypothetical  statement.  Nay,  we  might  (care- 
ful still  to  give  no  offence  to  those  who  should  engage  always  the 
highest  esteem)  go  a  little  further,  and  affirm  that,  in  those  cri- 
tical seasons,  (perhaps  the  present  is  such  a  season,)  when  all  men 
feel  that  a  revolution,  or,  shall  we  say,  a  general  recension  o 
opinions  is  coming  on,  and  when  sensible  men  of  all  parties  are 
pretty  well  wearied  of  certain  venerable  modes  of  speaking ; — that, 
at  such  a  moment,  a  service  of  peculiar  importance  might  be 
rendered  by  some  who,  absolutely  indifferent  to  the  fate  and  in- 
terests of  parties,  and  having  nothing  to  care  for  but  the  purifi- 
cation and  spread  of  God's  holy  truth,  might  take  their  course 
over  the  ground  with  a  calm  courage  and  steady  purpose,  such  as 
is  hardly  to  be  expected  in  those  who  fill  a  locality,  who  wear  a 
garb  they  are  mindful  not  to  have  rent  or  soiled,  and  who  walk 
hand  in  hand  with  colleagues. 

But  we  will  not  rush,  uncalled,  upon  difficult  and  hypothetical 
matters ;  and  instead  of  doing  so,  will  take  a  turn  or  two  upon 
the  open  ground  of  plain  liistory.  What  are  the  facts  then  ? 
Can  it  be  affirmed  that  the  Church — we  would  rather  say  Christ- 
ianity— ^has,  during  the  lapse  of  ages,  to  any  measurable  extent, 
been  well  served  and  advanced  in  the  world  by  the  writings  of 
men,  not  of  the  sacred  profession,  and  not  engaged  in  the  or- 
dinary duties  of  popular  instruction  ?  A  large  question  this, 
which  to  treat  properly  would  fill  a  volume.  Of  course  we  can 
but  touch  it  here  as  wc  run.  But,  as  a  preliminary,  we  must  ask. 
What  is  it  makes  the  priest — what  the  layman  ?  Without  at- 
tempting the  thorny  question  '  concerning  orders  %  we  assume  a 
rule  of  discrimination — a  rule,  we  grant,  not  in  every  case  deci- 
aive, — That  he  is  a  clerical  or  sacerdotal  person  who  actually  bears 
office  in  the  church,  has  a  certain  responsibility  to  support,  and  is 
ordinarily  employed  in  the  work  of  congregational  teaching,  or  of 
ecclesiastical  government.  On  the  other  hand,  whoever  is  found 
to  have  devoted  his  time  and  service  to  religion,  apart  from  office 
and  public  labour,  belongs  to  our  list  of  Lay  Theologians. 

It  is  not  every  reader  of  the  sacred  canon  who  may  be  aware 
how  many  of  the  inspired  writers  we  might,  by  this  rule,  fairly 
claim  as  laymen.  Some  of  our  instances  may  indeed  be  am- 
biguous and  disputable ;  but  the  most  illustrious  of  the  names 
which  we  place  at  the  head  of  our  Secular  Catalogue,  are 
Uable  to  no  question.  Assuredly  he  who  led  the  descendants  of 
Abraham  through  the  howling  wilderness,  the  king  in  Jeshurun, 
and  the  author  of  the  Pentateuch,  was  no  priest.  We  challenge 
then  Moses,  as  the  first  of  lay  theologians.  Shall  we  give  him^ 
as  a  fit  companion,  Job; — or  the  writer  of  his  history?     Elihu, 

£   K   2 


328  Lay  Theologians^ 

or  some  other  P  The  king  and  poet,  founder  of  the  Jevioh-  mo* 
narchy,  and  the  unrivalled  lyrist  of  the  Church  in  any  a^,  takm 
the  next  place*  Solomon  then  comes  to  sustain  our  plea  in  behalf 
of  secular  service  done  to  religion. 

It  would  lead  us  too  far,  to  settle  the  claims  of  those  of  the  pro* 
phets  whose  tribe  and  function  are  only  obscurely  mentioned. 
But  in  the  number,  several  were  unquestionably  laymen.  Whether 
doubtful  or  certain,  we  shall  mention  Isaiah,  Jonah,  Amos,  Jod, 
Hosea,  Nahuro,  Micah,  Zephaniah,  Habakkuk,  Obadiah,  Hag- 
gai,  Zechariah,  Daniel,  and  Nehemiah.  Does  not  this  list,  na« 
merous  and  rich  as  it  is,  almost  support  the  belief,  that  vhen 
signal  services  are  to  be  performed,  the  Divine  appointment  gives 
a  preference  to  those  who  are  unshackled  by  sacerdotal  duties  and 
motives  ? 

Turning  off  from  the  ground  of  canonical  Scripture,  ve  meet  in- 
stances in  abundance  pertinent  to  our  argument.  The  Author  c^ 
the  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  we  must  not  deei«ii?e/^  claim  for  our  list;  but 
may  without  scruple  lay  hands  upon  Joshua,  son  of  Sirach^^-Hio 
mean  contributor  to  the  stores  of  practical,  axiomatic  wisdom,  and 
one  too  who,  had  he  stood,  either  nearer  to  the  fountain  of  true 
light,  so  as  to  have  had  discharged  from  his  disk  the  few  spots  that 
sully  his  splendor,  or  much  further  from  it,  so  as  not  to  have  suf- 
fered by  a  comparison  which  he  did  not  invite,  and  so  as  not  to 
have  been  gathered  with  pretenders, — must  have  commanded  a 
high  reputation  in  that  class  of  writers  to  which  he  belonffs.  He 
is  not  a  Plato,  not  a  Socrates,  not  a  Seneca,  not  an  Epictetus ; 
but  a  Jew,  who  may  be  read  with  pleasure  and  advantage  after 
the  flowers  of  those  sages  have  been  gathered. 

We  have  hesitated  a  moment  upon  the  question  of  taking  or 
leaving  the  name  of  the  author  of  the  Targum  of  Onkelos ;  but 
resign  our  pretensions,  attracted  by  a  bright  reputation  which, 
as  we  just  now  catch  a  glimpse  of  it,  illumines  all  the  tranquil 
bosom  of  the  Nile.  We  speak  of  Philo;  and  in  speaking  of  hun, 
revert  to  our  rule  (as  wc  must  do  in  another  signal  instance  at 
hand)  which  allows  us  to  claim,  as  a  layman,  any  one,  though 
of  sacerdotal  blood,  who  in  fact  did  not  discharge  the  functions  of 
the  priestly  ofHce ;  but  addicted  himself  to  literature  and  sacred 
philosophy  from  the  impulse  of  independence,  or  taste.  Quid  loguar 
de  Philone  ?  asks  Jerom,  quern  vel  alteruniy  vel  secundum  Pfa- 
tonem^  critici  pronunciant !  So  great  a  celebrity,  says  Photiiis, 
did  Philo  win  for  himself  among  the  Greeks,  as  a  powerful  writer, 
that  it  became  a  common  ada^,  i  YlhaTuv  fi^uviXeiy  i  ^Ixmv  vxo. 
ruvl^ei.  ^  Either  Plato  philonizcs,  or  Philo  platonizes.^  We  are 
content  with  this  authentic  commendation,  and  pass  on.  Who 
will  dispute  our  rightful  possession  of  Flavins  Josephus,  or  deny 
us  leave  to  vaunt  the  possession  of  him  ?  Although,  *  beyoiid 
all  contradiction,  and  in  defiance  of  envy  and  detractions^  as  him- 


Lay  Tkeologiana.  229 

self  affirms,  he  was  son  of  Matthias,  son  of  Joseph,  and  so  on,  in 
direct  ascent  of  the  Aaronic  stock ;  nevertheless,  by  his  own 
shewing  also,  in  early  youth  he  launched  upon  the  troubled  waters 
of  civil  and  military  life ;  and  it  would  be  as  strange  and  outrage- 
ous a  thing  to  class  him  among  persons  of  the  sacred  order,  as  it 
would  be  to  do  so  with  certain  country  gentlemen  among  ourselves, 
who,  whatever  may  be  the  actual  colour  of  their  cloth,  conduct 
themselves  always  as  if  they  always  wore  the  colour  the  con- 
venience of  which  is,  that  it  does  not  shew  dirt.  Yes,  assuredly, 
Josephus  was  a  layman,  and  at  the  same  time  an  invaluable  con- 
tributor to  the  stock  of  sacred  literature.  At  what  price  would 
the  Biblical  critic,  or  the  student  of  history,  consent  to  the  pe- 
rishing of  the  "  Jewish  antiquities,^^  and  the  "  Wars  of  the  Jews  ^  ? 
**  KaQa^og  tyiv  ^fao-iv— conveying  with  grace  and  purity  the 
weighty  matters  which  recommend  his  page.^  * 

Our  readers  will  think  that  we  are  intending  nothing  less  than 
to  carry  off  and  make  a  boast  of  the  chiefest  worthies  of  the 
temple  of  ecclesiastical  fame :  for  our  next  name  is  that  of  Justin 
the  Martyr,  a  philosopher,  and  better  than  a  philosopher — ^a 
Christian ;  and  a  Christian  (rare  praise)  who  could  not  merely 
fvriie  in  defence  of  the  Gospel,  but  die  for  it  We  do  but  men- 
tion some  other  names,  either  of  less  note,  or  concerning  which 
our  claim  is  disputable ;  such  as  Athenajzoras,  Pantsenus,  Apol- 
lonius,  Aristides,  It  would  lead  us  too  tar  out  of  our  path,  to 
inquire  concerning  Tertullian,  whether,  though  denominated 
*  presbyter,'  he  ever  actually  performed  Church  duties.  With- 
out ambiguity,  Marcus  Minutius  Felix  comes  over  to  our  side ; 
a  lawyer  and  man  of  the  world,  but  an  elegant,  a  caustic,  and, 
we  should  not  doubt,  an  efficient  apologist  of  the  rising,  but  then 
calumniated  and  afflicted  Church. — '  Quam  idoneics  veritatis  as- 
^ertor  potuUset^  si  se  totum  ad  id  studii  contulisset!"* — Yes,  but 
it  was  as  a  man  of  other  interests  that  he  stood  forward,  with  so 
special  an  advantage  as  the  assailant  of  idolatry,  and  the  advocate 
of  the  faith  of  Chnst. 

The  period  we  are  passing  over  abounds  with  names  that  might 
properly  swell  our  list; — philosophers,  grammarians,  orators, 
who,  vanquished  by  the  evidence  that  sustained  the  gospel-his- 
tory, or  smitten  with  the  purity  and  beauty  of  its  ethics,  avowed 
themselves  Christians,  and  threw  in  contributions  of  more  or  less 
value,  to  the  literary  ftinds  of  the  Church.  But  we  hasten  on  ; 
and  fix  only  upon  the  most  signal  instances.  And  how  signal  an 
instance  is  Origen  !  Yet,  inasmuch  as  our  reader  s  impressions, 
doubtless,  are  all  of  a  kind  to  which  we  should  do  violence,  were 

*  Aquila  shall  neither  stand  in  his  place  in  our  text ;  nor  be  quite 
mnitted.  Shall  we  add  to  this  note  the  names  of  Theodotion  and 
SymmachQs? 


230  Lay  Theologians. 

we  to  challenge  this  "  Father  of  the  Church  ^  as  a  laic,  we  re^ 
frain  from  making  out  the  good  case  we  easily  might  in  favour  of 
such  a  claim.  Churchman  or  layman,  (and  we  tske  him  as  the 
latter,)  he  was  a  divine  and  a  scholar,  by  the  side  of  whom,  could 
they  be  brought  into  near  comparison,  some  reputed  such  among 
ourselves,  must  hide  their  diminished  heads.  Let  Amobius  just 
serve  as  a  means  of  transition  from  one  illustrious  name  to  another ; 
— a  link  in  our  chain,  connecting  Origen  with  Lactantius,  the 
glory  and  the  reproach  of  the  Church  of  that  ase,  the  *  Ci- 
cero of  Christianity;^  a  man  erudite  and  accomplished,  yet  (as 
some  say,  perhaps  on  uncertain  grounds,)  left  by  those  who  should 
have  cherished  him,  to  endure  the  miseries  of  want ! 

Again  we  shall  be  called  in  question  as  audacious  spoliators,  or 
as  sacrilegious  invaders  of  the  goods  of  the  Church,  when  we  lay 
hands  upon  so  great  a  writer  and  ^  venerable  a  father  '*  as  Jerom, 
and  stripping  him  of  his  presby  tcr^s  tunic,  challenge  him  as  a  lay- 
man. Yet  our  rule  embraces  even  Jerom.  Invested,  as  a  merely 
honorary  title,  with  the  name  of  presbyter,  he  led  a  life  (and  did 
so  by  formal  stipulation  *)  altogether  unencumbered  with  eccle- 
siastical duties.  In  taste,  habit,  and  actual  occupation,  he  was 
precisely  the  man  of  letters,  who  chose  Christianity  as  his  party, 
and  sacred  learning  as  his  subject.  Hear  his  encomiast  and  con- 
temporary.— '  Totiia  semper  in  lectione,  totus  in  libris  eat :  turn 
die,  non  nocte  requiescit :  aut  legit  a  liquid  semper,  autscribUP 
— Are  we  not  borne  out  in  our  claim  ?  Moreover,  unlike  a  man 
who,  in  return  for  the  deference  paid  him  by  his  colleagues,  ch^ 
rishcs  and  defends  his  order,  Jerom  was  the  incessant  and  mer- 
ciless assailant,  not  of  heretic  only,  but  of  monks,  bishops !  pres- 
byters !  '  Odcrunt  eum  hceretici,  quia  eos  impugnare  nan 
desbiit :  odcrunt  clerici,  quia  vitia  eorum  insectatur  et  cri- 
mina. — Immo  vero^  nihil  penitiks  omisit,  quod  non  carperet,  la* 
cerarety  eaponeret :  prcecipue  avaritiam,  nee  mintis  vanitatem 
insectatus  est.''  What  is  all  this  but  the  Layman,  who,  in  his 
privacy,  frets  at  the  disorders  of  a  body  with  which  he  does  not 
feel  himself  to  be  connected,  and  which  he  scruples  not  to  expose 
to  general  contempt. 

Some  dozen  names  here  meet  us  as  meriting  a  place  in  our  ca- 
talogue. Victorinus,  for  example;  Didymus  of  Alexandria; 
Ephrem  the  Syrian,  we  are  half  resolved  to  claim  ;  certainly 
Prudentius  is  ours  ;  and  Nonnus  (as  we  think),  yet  ask  us  not  to 
read  his  verses ;  Mark  the  hermit ;  Rufinus,  friend  and  foe  of 
Jerom  ;  and  Victor  of  Marseilles.     But  we  advance  to  swell  our 


•  We  pay  more  regard  to  his  own  account  of  himself  in  this  respect, 
than  to  the  casual  expression  used  by  au  ecclesiastic  of  the  western 
Church,  who  says,  '  Ecclesiam  loci  ilhus  Hieronymus  presbjrter  r^'t.' 


Lay  Theologians.  231 

Jiretensions  in  behalf  of  the  laity,  with  the  valuable  names  (at 
ea^t  one  of  them  valuable)  of  the  church  historians,  Socrates 
and  Solomon ;  after  whom  might  be  mentioned,  Nilus  of  Con- 
stantinople, and  if  the  reader  pleases,  though  we  do  not  please,  Si- 
meon Stylites. 

Doubtless  we  shall  place  on  a  conspicuous  pedestal  (not  so 
dizzy  a  one  perhaps,  but  of  far  better  workmanship  and  material 
than  the  pillar  of  Simeon)  the  classical  author  of  the  *  Consola- 
tions of  Philosophy.'  Boetius,  the  Consul,  might  well  be  chosen 
to  head  a  host  of  lay  theologians,  as  he  brings  up  the  rear  of  ele- 
gant latinity.  Let  him  occupy  alone  this  paragraph,  and  thence 
look  mournfully  over  the  wide  gulf  of  ignorance  and  folly  which 
lies  between  him  and  a  brighter  time. 

From  that  dark  quag,  we  might  stay  to  rescue  a  few  names, 
which,  however,  must  be  left  to  some  season  of  more  leisure. 
Yet  the  resplendent  Photius,  far  greater  before  his  desecration  of 
the  priestly  office  than  afterwards,  must  surely  be  called  from  his 
monastery  to  grace  our  list;  and  does  he  not  actually  brighten  all 
the  page  that  bears  his  name  P  But  we  will  not  attempt  to  add 
a  pun  to  the  thousand  with  which  the  learned  have  already 
graced  the  memory  of  this  illustrious  man  *.  It  may  be  retorted 
upon  us,  if  Jerom  is  to  be  marshalled  in  this  array  of  laymen, 
wny  not  Bede,  why  not  Alcuin,  Scotus,  and  others  hardly  less 
deserving  of  the  bold  attempt  ?  It  might,  we  confess,  be  hard  to 
defend  any  ground  of  distinction  we  could  advance.  Perhaps  the 
only  reason  why  the  one  was  taken  and  the  others  are  not,  is  that 
ourselves  are  now  impatiently  pressing  on  to  a  close.     Yet  the 

good  king   Alfred — king — philosopher — patriot — -warrior — legis- 
itor — Christian,  —  Alfred — theologian    and    layman^    we  will 
loudly  boast  of. 

Our  rule  would  grant  us  Maimonides : — let  learned  casuists  de- 
cide the  perplexing  question,  whether  his  title  of  courtesy, 
*  Rabbi,'  is  to  be  held  equivalent  to  *  orders ',  and  then,  whe- 
ther this  Jew  should  be  numbered  with  doctors  of  divinity ! 
Strange  conjunction  of  names,  to  adduce  that  of  Dant^,  next  to 
the  Rabbi  Moses  ! — and  some  may  deem  it  still  more  strange 
to  enlist  the  poet  among  theologians.  Nevertheless,  we  will  do 
so  at  all  hazards ;  and  run  an  equal  risk  too,  with  the  name  of 
Abelard. 

Sir  Thomas  More,  we  deem  an  honour  to  our  list,  notwith- 
standing his  position  on  the  wrong  side  of  a  great  controversy ; 


*  It  80  happened  that  the  writings  of  Photius,  after  resting  long 
in  the  dark,  were  brought  to  light,  by  Schottus — ^Sxotoj,  a  Jesuit  of 
Antwerp.  Who,  with  a  single  sparkle  of  wit  to  spare,  could  resist 
the  temptation  to  pun  wholesale,  on  so  rare  an  occasion  ? 


232  Lay  Theohgiana. 

and  would  rather  be  companions  with  him,  in  the  wrong,  than 
with  that  mighty  theologian  and  staundi  defender  of  the  fiud^ 
his  master, — in  the  right.  And  now  must  we  tdce  the  shame  of 
numbering  that  other  accomplished  clerk  and  king,  James,  who 
would  have  been  almost  as  much  vexed  to  find  himself  omitted 
in  a  catalogue  of  the  great  divines  of  the  day,  as  to  baTe  seen 
his  royal  titles  dropped  out  of  the  roll  of  sovereigns- 
Great  men,  great  men  truly,  now  thicken  upon  us,  who, 
though  not  ecclesiastics,  render^,  in  different  modes,  signal  ser* 
vices  to  the  Christian  faith.  For  the  absolute  parity  of  their 
several  creeds  we  are  not  responsible ;  yet  hesitate  not  to  say  of 
most,  that  their  talents  and  learning,  sincerely  demoted  to 
the  cause  of  Christianity,  entitle  them  to  the  gratefbl  leod- 
lection  of  all  Christians.  Who  will  refuse  this  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  Hugo  Grotius  ?  The  immortal  Author  of  *  The 
'  Provincial  Letters  \  too,  might  perhaps  measure  merits,  on  the 
ground  of  substantial  service  done  to  truth  and  piety,  with  any  of 
the  divines  his  contemporaries.  Our  right  to  FcUh^  Malebranche 
might  be  contested,  nor  are  we  much  disposed  to  enter  into  strift 
for  his  sake. 

To  number  Lord  Bacon  among  theologians,  would  seem  only 
like  an  eager  endeavour  to  grasp  at  every  good  thing  within  our 
reach,  seeing  that  so  very  small  a  part  of  his  writings  bears  upon 
religion.  Let  it  however  be  granted  to  us  to  reuin  him,  aa  ifl^ 
anticipation  of  that  extensive  influence  which,  we  are  food  Is 
believe,  the  great  principles  of  his  philosophy  are  yet  destined  to 
exert  over  the  ground  of  theological  science.  That  he  himself 
looked  forward  to  some  such  distant  influence,  we  could  make 
appear  as  at  least  probable  *.  In  the  same  Inright  series,  the 
reader  expects  to  see  Newton,  Boyle,  Locke,  and  Milton.  Think 
what  we  may  of  their  particular  opinions,  we  must  not  deny,  that 
the  mere  fact,  that  these  great  men  were  Christians,  has, 
during  past  seasons  of  doubt,  sustained  the  wavering  fidth  of 


*  A  copious  theme  we  must  not  here  enter  upon.  Let  ns  just  say, 
that  aS;  in  reference  to  his  natural  philosophy.  Bacon's  prediction,  if 
we  may  so  call  it,  has  been  verified^ — '  Certe  objici  mini  reotiannit 
posse  existimo,  quod  verba  mea  Seculum  desiderent.  Seculam 
forte  integrum,  ad  probandum,  complura  autem  secula  ad  perficitn' 
dum  ;* — ^so  may  it  be  that  the  high  principles  of  reason  whicn  ha  pi^ 
mulgatcd,  after  having  been  carried  home  through  all  departments  of 
physical  science,  are  to  be  brought  in  and  fully  applied  to  the  inter- 
pretation of  Scripture.  Yes,  and  seeing  that  ^Tature  and  Seriptnrt 
are  the  work  of  one  and  the  same  hand,  can  it  be  otherwise  than  fit, 
that  the  '  Minister  et  Intcrprcs  Scripture ',  should  proceed  on  the 
very  principles  which  have  proved  themselves  to  be  the  genuine  rales 
of  the  '  Minister  et  Interpres  Naturae '  ? 


United  Slates  of  America.  233 

uiultitodes  of  <mr  countrymen.  The  Author  of '  Religio  Medici  * 
has  a  good  right  to  a  place  in  our  list ;  and  perhaps  there  are  those 
who  will  think  that  David  Hartley  has  as  valid  a  claim  to  the 
title  of  Theologian  as  Sir  Thomas  Browne.  We  have  omitted  in 
their  exact  order,  Des  Cartes,  and  a  greater  than  he,  Leibnitz, 
who,  layman  as  he  was,  and  deeply  engaged  in  scientific  and 
secular  pursuits,  stood  foremost  among  theologians,  as  among 
philosophers. 

We  will  not  set  a  foot  upon  the  stage  of  more  recent  literature; 
much  less  pay  the  expected  tribute  to  any  of  our  contemporary 
lay-divines,  who  may  have  been  thinking,  all  along,  that  our 
rambling  lucubration  was  to  reach  its  triumphant  climax  in  their 
names.  Not  so: — we  cut  them  short  (if  such  there  be)  with  a 
flat  disappointment !  Let  only  our  conclusion  be  received  and 
pondered,  which  is  this :  That  the  services  rendered  by  men  not 
ecdesiastics,  to  Religion,  have  been  enough,  and  more  than  enough, 
to  redeem  from  contempt  the  title  I^ay  Theologian ;  and  enough  too, 
to  enhearten  the  secluded  endeavours  of  any  who,  even  now, 
though  not  officially  invested,  may  be  desiring  to  lay  their  gift 
upon  the  altar.  Yes,  and  enough  to  warrant  the  hope  that,  in 
-times  that  are  coming,  achievements  of  the  most  important  kind 
may  be  effected  under  this  very  condition  of  extra-sacerdotal 
agency. 


Art.  V.  1.  Three  Years  in  North  America.  By  James  Stuart^  Esq. 
2  vols.  ^vo.     Edinburgh,  1833. 

2»  America  and  the  Americans.  By  a  Citizen  of  the  World.  8vo.  pp. 
xii.  430.    London,  1833. 

3.  Moral  and  Political  Sketch  of  the  United  States  of  North  America. 
By  Achilla  Murat,  Ci-devant  Prince  Royal  of  the  Two  Sicilies^ 
and  Citizen  of  the  United  States.  With  a  Note  on  Negro  Slavery. 
By  Junius  Redivivus.     12nio.  pp.  xl.  402.     London,  1833. 

4.  North  American  Review,  No.  LXXVIII.  January,  1833.  Art. 
Prince  Puckler  Muscau  and  Mrs.  TroUope. 

TVl  RS.  Trollope^s  trumpery  work,  we  never  thoi^ht  it  worth 
^'^  while  to  notice.  The  innate  vulgarity  of  mind,  the  pal- 
pable invention,  and  the  irreligious  spirit  which  it  betrayed, 
worthy  of  Fanny  Wright  herself,  led  us  no  alternative  but  either 
to  occupy  more  time  than  we  could  spare  in  exposing  the  writer''s 
misdemeanours,  or  to  pass  it  by  in  silence.  A  certain  Quarterly 
Reviewer  endeavoured  to  puff  it  into  notice,  pleased  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  saying  spiteful  things  about  the  Americans,  and 

VOL.  IX. N.8.  F  F 


234  United  States  of  America. 

poflsiUy  knowing  more  about  the  composition  of  the  book  than  he 
might  care  to  avow.  The  North  American  Reviewer  ia  '  dis- 
'  posed  to  regard  the  work  as  to  a  certain  extent  pseudepigraphal, 
'  That  this  lady  lived  and  travelled  in  America,  and  kept  a 
^  journal  of  what  she  saw  and  fancied  she  saw,  there  is  no  doubt. 
'  But/  adds  our  Transatlantic  critic,  ^  we  hare  heard  some  pretty 
'  distinct  rumours  that  her  papers  have  gone  through  the  mill  of 
'  a  regular  book-maker ;  and  tnere  are  some  things  in  the  volume 
^  as  it  stands,  which  we  cannot  think  that  she  or  any  other  lady 
'  (not  to  say  gentleman)  could  have  written/  Whoever  was  the 
book-maker,  the  reader  must  have  had  no  small  share  of  credulity, 
who  could  receive  its  statements  as  authentic,  and  no  very  refined 
taste,  who  could  be  pleased  with  its  unfeminine  pertness,  flip- 
pancy, and  profaneness. 

From  the  very  title  of  Mrs.  TroUope'^s  work,  however  attractive 
to  minds  of  a  certain  class,  it  might  have  been  anticipated,  that 
the  contents  would  be  found  of  the  most  trivial  description.  What 
are  to  us  the  *'  domestic  manners^  of  the  people  of  the  United 
States,  their  style  of  dress,  of  conversation,  of  cookery  P  A  few 
passing  observations  on  such  topics  might  serve  to  enliven  a  chap- 
ter of  a  travelling  Journal ;  but,  except  as  furnishing  hints  to 
persons  about  to  visit  the  United  States,  that  may  put  them  on 
their  guard  against  inconveniences  or  mistakes,  they  must  surely 
be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  gossip  alike  undignified  and  unprofitable. 
What  we  are  anxious  to  know  respecting  the  Americans,  is,  how 
the  magnificent  experiment  of  their  government  and  social  consti- 
tution works,  as  regards  the  happiness  and  wel&re  of  the  people, — 
the  interests  of  religion,  the  state  of  morals,  and  the  efficiency  of 
the  public  institutions.  In  America,  there  is  clear  ground  for 
the  safe  evolution  of  a  series  of  experimental  processes,  by  which 
conflicting  political  theories  may  be  brought  to  the  test,  and  which, 
in  the  more  crowded  countries  of  the  old  world,  it  would  be  folly 
to  attempt,  from  the  certain  cost  and  doubtful  issue.  We  may, 
in  Europe,  enjoy  all  the  benefit,  without  the  risk,  provided  we  do 
not  sufler  our  self-love  on  the  one  hand,  or  our  enthusiasm  for 
freedom  on  the  other,  to  blind  our  judgement  to  the  actual  results. 
We  can  say,  for  our  own  part,  that  we  are  anxious  only  to  ascer- 
tain facts ^  in  respect  to  the  state  of  things  in  the  United  States, 
whether  those  facts  make  for  or  against  any  particular  theories  or 
anticipations.  And  we  wish  to  be  on  our  guard  more  especially 
against  that  hasty  induction  which  makes  a  few  detached  facts  the 
stepping-stones  by  which  to  leap  to  distant  conclusions.  The 
first  point  to  be  ascertained  is,  what  is  the  moral  condition  of  the 
great  mass  of  thfe  people  ?  This  being  tolerably  well  understood, 
the  next  inquiry  would  be,  whether  the  people  are  what  they  are 
found  to  be  in  such  a  political  condition,  in  consequence  of  their 
institutions,  or  in  spite  of  them.     And  still  a  third  question 


United  Slates  of  America.  236 

would  remain  to  be  determined,  supposing  this  second  inquiry  to 
turn  out  in  favour  of  the  American  system ;  namely,  whether 
those  institutions  would  be  adapted  to  other  countries,  and  could 
be  naturalized,  with  advantage,  in  the  old  world. 

Mrs.  Trollope'^s  book  *  was  hailed  \  it  has  been  remarked,  by 

*  those  who  seem  to  imagine,  that  to  speak  favourably  of  America, 

*  is  to  speak  disparagingly  and  factiously  of  Britain.^  *  This 
jealousy  of  the  Americans  is  as  mean  as  it  is  unintelligent.  To 
speak  favourably  of  America,  is  to  speak  honourably  of  Britain, 
the  parent  of  all  that  is  excellent  in  America, — her  religion,  her 
laws,  and  the  free  spirit  of  her  institutions.  We  are  speaking, 
of  course,  of  the  United  States  of  the  North,  to  compare  which, 
for  a  moment,  with  Mexico,  Colombia,  or  Brazil,  as  to  the  degree 
of  civilization  and  of  intelligence  which  characterizes  them  re- 
spectively, would  be  an  insult  to  the  Anglo-Americans.  And 
whence  has  arisen  the  vast  moral  difference  between  the  nations 
sprung  from  the  English  and  the  Spanish  colonies  in  the  new 
world?  Admitting  that  climate  has  had  some  influence  in  modi- 
fying the  national  character,  the  essential  cause  of  the  immense 
aifterence  between  the  North  and  the  South,  is  undoubtedly  the 
intellectual  capital  with  which  the  United  States  started  in  their 
political  adventure, — the  moral  wealth  which  they  inherited  as 
Englishmen.  If  America  is  not  merely  a  *  land  of  promise  % 
but,  in  some  respects,  the  favoured  seat  of  liberty  and  religion, 
which  we  rejoice  to  believe,  it  ought  to  endear  to  us  the  more  our 
common  faith,  our  common  laws,  and  those  institutions  which  are 
parent  to  the  social  constitution  of  the  American  Republic. 

It  is  true,  that  an  indiscriminate  and  credulous  admiration  of 
every  thing  American,  may  put  on  a  factious  character ;  may  be 
allied  to  a  spirit  of  turbulent  discontent  or  of  rash  speculation. 
Or,  originating  in  a  more  generous  feeling,  in  the  re- action  pro- 
duced by  the  mean  and  calumnious  disparagement  of  our  American 
brethren,  it  may  nevertheless  lead  to  serious  mistakes  and  erro- 
neous, perhaps  mischievous  conclusions.  The  mild  enthusiasm 
of  some  excellent  persons  leads  them  to  regard  America  as  a 
Utopia  realised,  and  to  mistake  the  crude  experiment  of  yester- 
day for  the  matured  perfection  of  a  model  or  the  certain  results 
of  science.  We  have  also  met  with  instances  of  an  amiable  hu- 
mility which  would  offer  incense  to  the  inordinate  vanity  of  the 
Americans,  by  conceding  and  confessing  the  inferiority  of  Eng- 
land to  her  well-grown  daughter.  We  love  brother  Jonathan 
sincerely,  in  spite  of  the  serious  flaws  in  his  character ;  but  we 
feel  somewhat  like  Joseph's  brethren,  at  the  representation  which 
makes  our  sheaves  stand  round  about  to  make  obeisance  to  his 


•  Edinb.  Rev.  CXI  I.  p.  460. 

F  F    2 


336  United  States  of  America. 

sheaf.  If  he  has  dreamed  a  dream,  that  the  aim,  and  the  iikkm« 
and  the  stars  of  the  social  system,  are  to  make  obeisance  to  bha, 
this  shall  not  make  us  hate  our  brother,  but  we  must  at  least  dis- 
tinguish between  the  prediction  and  the  fact  Whatever  the  fu- 
ture may  develop,  we  cannot  at  present  bring  ourselves  to  do 
homage  to  the  young  Heir  of  the  New  World.  What  is  more, 
we  must  withstand  him  openly,  when  we  think  him  to  be  blamed. 
In  our  last  Number,  in  advocating  the  Chums  of  the  Blacks, 
we  had  to  bring  under  the  immediate  attention  of  our  readers,  a 
startling  and  repulsive  disclosure  of  the  extent  to  which  *  the 
^  plague-spot,  slavery  %  has  vitiated  the  moral  feeling  and  dis- 
ordered the  social  constitution  of  the  Americans.  We  shall  say 
little  more  upon  the  subject  at  present,  but  cannot  refrain  from 
citing  from  Mr.  Stewart's  very  sensible  and  dispassionate  journal, 
some  statements  which  but  too  strongly  confirm  and  justify  our 
remarks  in  that  article.  We  rejoice  to  find,  at  the  same  time, 
that  his  details  respecting  the  state  of  education,  and  of  religion, 
in  the  Northern  States,  are,  upon  the  whole,  verv  favourable  to 
the  character  of  their  citizens ;  furnishing  a  complete  exposure  of 
the  falsehood  of  Mrs.  Trollope^s  representations,  who  appears 
never  to  have  set  her  foot  in  New  England,  and  who  drew  her 
observations  chiefly  from  the  North-western  States,  the  most 
newly  settled  portion  of  the  country.  It  ought  always  to  be 
borne  in  mind,  by  those  who  wish  either  to  understand  the  real 
condition  of  society  in  America,  or  to  do  justice  to  the  Americans, 
that  the  United  States  comprise  countries  differing  from  each 
other,  in  their  interior  condition,  scarcely  less  widely  than  Yoric- 
shire,  Devonshire,  and  Jamaica.  Upon  this  point,  the  ci-devant 
Prince  Royal  of  the  two  Sicilies,  now  Citizen  Achilles  Murat, 
has  undertaken  to  set  right  the  erroneous  notions  of  travellers 
We  shall  transcribe  the  passage  as  a  specimen  of  his  perform- 
ance, which,  tliough  just  such  a  work  as  might  be  expected  from 
the  son  of  a  soldier  of  fortune,  cradled  in  European  revolutions, 
and  thrown  upon  the  republicanism  of  the  Southern  States,*— 
contains,  with  much  flippancy  and  some  inaccuracies,  a  consider- 
able portion  of  acceptable  information.  We  need  only  premise, 
that  the  Ex-prince  never  travelled  in  the  north  eastern  portion  of 
the  United  States ;  that  he  has  only  hearsay  to  guide  him  in  his 
gtiesaes  reBjiecting  the  people  and  thestateof  society  in  those  states; 
and  that  he  is  a  warm  advocate  for  the  advantages  of  slavery; 
like  many  other  republicans  who  love  freedom  too  well  to  wish  to 
see  it  cheapened  and  thrown  away  upon  the  blacks. 

*  Another  great  distinction  observable  in  the  character  of  the  people, 
is  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  Souths  of  the  North-east,  of  the  West, 
and  of  the  Centre.  It  is  so  strong,  as  to  change  entirely  the  aspect 
of  the  country. 

*  The  six  New  England  states,  Massachusets,  Connecticut,  New 


United  States  of  America.  237 

HBmpshir^,  Vermont,  Maine>  and  Rhode  Island^  form  of  themselves  a 
constellation  extremely  remarkable  among  the  States  of  the  Union. 
Their  interests^  their  prejudices^  their  laws,  even  their  follies  and 
▼ory  accent  are  the  same.  They  are  what  in  the  rest  of  the  Union  we 
call  Yankees;  .a  name  which  the  English  have  very  erroneously  ex- 
tended to  all  the  nation.  These  six  republics  are  one  fraternity. 
Their  industry  and  capital  are  immense ;  they  cover  the  ocean  with 
oar  flae,  and  furnish  our  navy  and  merchantships  with  seamen ;  they 
have  also  given  birth  to  many  of  our  greatest  men.  Their  character  is 
rerj  remarkable,  and  admits  of  comparison  with  no  other  people  on 
the  earth.  The  most  gigantic  enterprises  do  not  Mghten  them,  nor 
are  they  above  engaging  in  those  of  small  detail;  all  which  they 
oooduct  with  a  spirit  of  order  and  minuteness  quite  peculiar  to  them- 
selves.  These  men  seem  bom  to  calculate  shillings  and  pence,  but 
they  raise  themselves  thereby  to  count  by  millions,  without  losing  any- 
thing of  their  exactness,  or  of  the  littleness  of  their  ordinary  views. 
They  betray  a  shameless  avidity  after  profit,  and,  like  Petit-Jean, 
candidly  teU  you, 

"  Que  sans  argent  honneur  n'est  qu'une  maladie." 

This  spirit  of  calculation  and  avarice  is  strangely  blended  with  the 
strict  olMervance  of  the  Sunday,  which  they  call  oabbath,  and  of  all 
the  puritanical  practices  of  the  Presbyterian  religion,  which  they  have 
generally  adopted.  They  are  in  this  respect  so  scrupulous,  that  a 
brewer  was  reproved  in  church  for  having  brewed  on  the  Saturday, 
by  which  the  beer  had  been  exposed  to  work  on  the  Sabbath.  They 
call  this  morality,  which,  according  to  them,  consists  much  more  in 
not  swearing,  singing,  dancing,  or  walking,  on  Sunday,  than  in  not 
making  a  fraudulent  bankruptcy.  This  species  of  religious  hypocrisy 
it  so  natural  to  them,  that  the  greater  number  practise  it  as  a  thing  of 
course.  They  glory  in  calling  themselves  "  the  country  of  steady 
habits,"  not  because  they  are  more  virtuous  than  other  people,  but 
because  they  assume  a  contrite  air  once  a  week,  and  eat  nothing  on 
Saturdays  but  cod-fish  and  apple  pies.  Boston,  their  capital,  abounds, 
however,  in  men  of  literary  eminence :  it  is  the  Athens  of  the  Union ; 
it  was  the  cradle  of  liberty,  and  produced  many  of  its  most  zealous 
diampions  in  the  council  as  well  as  in  the  field.  Instruction  is  much 
more  generally  diffused  there,  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  world. 
They  possess,  in  fieict,  all  the  elements  of  greatness,  and  evince  enlarged 
views,  without  foregoing  anything  of  that  petty  spirit  of  detail  which 
mixes  itself  with  all  their  proceedings.  Everywhere,  a  Yankee  may 
be  recognized  by  his  adroitness  in  asking  questions  about  what  he 
already  knows,  by  the  evasive  manner  in  which  he  answers  questions 
addressed  to  himself  without  ever  afiirming  anything,  and  particularly 
by  the  address  with  which  he  manages  to  eclipse  himself  when  there 
is  something  for  him  to  pay.  In  politics,  these  six  States  are  united : 
they  vote  as  one  man.  Here  is  tne  seat  of  the  commercial  interest, 
although  since  some  years,  they  turn  their  attention  to  manufactures 
also,  with  the  success  which  accompanies  all  that  they  undertake.  The 
country  is  very  populous,  very  well  cultivated,  and  even  in  it,  the 


238  United  States  of  America. 

capital  employed  in  agriculture  is  as  considerable  as  that  absorbed  in 
commerce. 

'  The  central  States  are  very  far  from  being  so  united  in  interest, 
or  having  so  marked  a  physiognomy.  The  State  of  New  York  fbrnis 
a  nation  of  more  than  a  million  of  souls.  The  city  of  New  York 
contains  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  inhabitants ;  the  houses  built 
there  during  the  last  year  are  not  less  than  fifteen  hundred,  and  it  is 
expected  that  three  times  that  number  will  be  built  during  the  present. 
Nothing  can  exceed  the  spirit  of  enterprise,  activity,  and  industry  of 
the  people.  Here  are  no  straitened  views ;  people  speak  of  but  miUions 
of  dollare ;  business  is  done  with  unequalled  rapidity,  and  yet  in  gf» 
neral  so  as  to  escape  any  severe  shocks:  everything  advances  with 
giant,  but  at  the  same  time  regular,  steps.  This  state  of  things  has 
received  a  fresh  impulse  from  the  genius  of  the  present  governor,  Mr. 
de  Witt  Clinton,  who  originated  the  idea  of  the  great  canal  which 
unites  Lake  Erie  to  the  sea.  The  internal  activity  of  this  State  is  so 
great,  and  so  entirely  absorbed  within  itself,  as  to  leave  none  for  its 
affairs  with  the  Union.  Accordingly,  its  influence  is  hardly  felt  there; 
for,  having  everything  within  itself,  it  unites  in  its  own  deputation  the 
interests  of  agriculture,  commerce,  and  manufactures :  the  commercial 
interest,  however,  predominates.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  this 
State  has  sent  to  the  national  councils  very  few  men  of  superior  mind. 
The  people  are  absorbed  and  annihilated  in  their  internal  politics, 
which  are  extremely  complicated,  and  are  said  to  be  full  of  very  silly 
intrigues.  A  stranger  can  comprehend  nothing  of  all  this,  but  may 
perceive  that  parties  are  bitter  and  personal,  two  very  bad  signs. 

'  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey,  and  Delaware,  form  a  groupe  more 
resembling  each  other.  The  people  are  distinguished  by  their  good- 
nature, tranquillity,  and  industry.  Except  in  Philadelphia,  the 
manufacturing  and  agricultural  interests  prevail.  These  States  are  in 
great  part  peopled  with  peaceable  Quakers  and  Germans.    Everything 

foes  on  quietly,  without  shock  or  anything  to  excite  observation.     If 
Boston  is  the  abode  of  literature,  Philadelphia  is  that  of  science ;  which 
gives,  perhaps,  to  its  society  a  tinge  of  pedantry. 

'  A  year  or  two  ago.  New  Jersey  attempted  to  leap  forward  in  the 
perilous  career  of  great  enterprises,  and  to  imitate  its  northern  neigh- 
bour ;  but,  after  committing  some  errors,  it  has  now  returned  to  wiser 
principles.  The  legislature  this  year  peremptorily  refuses  to  incorpo* 
rate  new  banks,  and  has  even  withdrawn  the  charters  of  some  of  the 
old  ones. 

'  Maryland  is  also  divided  in  interest,  like  these  other  States ;  for 
while  Baltimore  is  one  of  the  most  trading  cities  of  the  Union,  the  rest 
of  the  country  is  agricultural  and  manufacturing.  The  character  of 
the  people  is  a  singular  mixture  of  the  simplicity  and  good  nature  of 
the  Pennsylvanian  Quakers,  and  the  pride  of  the  Virginian  planters. 
It  is  the  only  State  in  which  relisious  intolerance  exists,  rather  through 
ancient  habit  than  actual  prejudice;  the  Jews  cannot  vote  there. 
This  State  finds  itself,  with  respect  to  its  Negroes,  and  perhaps  in  a 
higher  degree,  in  the  same  difliculty  as  Virginia. 

'  This  latter  State  has,  during  a  long  period,  played  the  chief  part 


United  States  of  America.  239 

in  the  Union>  by  means  of  its  politics  and  its  great  men :  it  is  the 
birth-place  of  four  of  our  presidents.  But  Virginia  is  much  fallen  in 
fiplendour^  for  which,  indeed,  it  was  principally  indebted  to  party 
irritation.  Its  interests  are  wholly  agricultural  and  manu&cturing. 
The  people  are  noble,  generous,  and  hospitable,  but  coarse,  vain,  and 
haughty.  They  pride  themselves,  above  everything,  on  their  frank 
konesty;  and  their  laws,  usages,  and  politics  partake  of  this  laudable 
ostentation.  They  are  very  united  as  a  people;  and  never  is  the 
opinion  of  the  State  given  unsupported  by  the  suffrage  of  all  Virginia, 
Their  politics,  however,  are  apt  to  be  personal,  Actions,  turbulent,  and 
noisy.  It  is,  beyond  comparison,  the  State  most  abundant  in  lawyers, 
or  at  least  in  persons  stuapng  the  law ;  and  who,  although  they  boast 
much  of  democracy,  are  the  only  real  aristocrats  of  the  Union  :  witness 
the  right  of  suffrage,  from  which  the  populace  is  excluded  in  this 
State. 

'  Tobacco  and  corn  are  the  staple  cultivation  of  Virginia  and  Mary- 
land: the  first  of  these  articles  requires  slave  labour;  the  other  is  more 
profitably  cultivated  by  free  hands.  Tobacco  exhausts  the  land  very 
rapidly,  and  only  thrives  in  new  and  very  fertile  soils ;  hence  it  follows 
that,  these  lands  being  now  nearly  exhausted,  at  least  comparatively, 
-and  the  price  of  tobacco  being  diminished,  owing  to  the  quantity 
grown  in  the  west,  the  planters  are  reduced  to  cultivate  corn,  and  are 
obliged  to  rid  themselves  of  their  slaves,  who  are  no  longer  profitable. 
The  day,  therefore,  is  not  distant,  when  we  shall  see  these  two  States 
unite  uiemselves  with  those  of  the  North  against  the  slave-holding 
States.  However,  since  a  year  or  two,  they,  particularly  Virginia, 
have  successfully  undertaken  the  culture  of  short  cotton,  which  has 
given  fresh  value  to  their  negroes,  and  may  perhaps  restore  Virginia 
to  its  former  splendour.  But  since  then,  short  cotton,  in  common 
with  all  other  cottons,  has  undergone  a  great  reduction  in  price,  in 
consequence  of  which  all  the  southern  States  are  in  a  declining  con- 
dition. 

'  North  Carolina  is  a  bad  imitation  of  Virginia ;  its  interests  and 
politics  are  the  same,  and  it  navigates  in  its  own  waters.  Notwith- 
standing its  gold  mines,  it  is  the  poorest  State  of  the  Union,  and  the 
one  which  supplies  most  emigrants  to  the  new  lands. 

*  South  Carolina,  Georgia,  Alabama,  Mississippi,  and  Louisiant^ 
constitute  what  is  properly  called  the  South.  Their  interest  is  purely 
agricultural;  their  productions  are  cotton,  long  and  short,  sugar,  rice, 
and  maize,  all  which  require  slave-labour,  and  yield  a  sufiliciently  good 
profit  to  deter  them  from  any  other  employment  of  their  funds.  The 
excellence  of  the  land,  together  with  the  luxurious  climate,  so  well 
second  the  labour  of  the  cultivator,  that  it  is  much  more  advantageous 
to  employ  the  negroes  in  the  field  than  in  the  factory.  Although 
character  necessarily  varies  considerably  over  so  large  an  extent  of 
country,  the  features  of  a  common  race  are  discernible.  Their  frank- 
ness, generosity,  hospitality,  and  liberality  of  opinion,  have  become 
proverbial,  and  form  a  perfect  contrast  to  the  Yankee  character,  much 
to  the  disadvantage  of  the  latter.  In  the  midst  of  this  groupe  stands 
South  Carolina,  conspicuous  for  a  combination  of  talents  unequalled 
throughout  the  Union.     The  society  of  Charleston  is  the  best  I  have 


240  United  States  of  America. 

net  with  in  my  trayels^  whether  on  this  or  on  yoor  ude  ai  the  At- 
lantic. In  respect  to  finish  and  el^;ance  of  mannen,  it  leaTw  nothii^ 
to  be  desired,  and,  what  is  of  more  value  with  pec^e  who,  like  yon 
and  me,  attach  little  importance  to  mere  politenen»  it  swarms  with 
real  talent,  and  that  without  the  alloy  of  pedantry.  In  all  qoesdoas 
of  a  common  interest,  this  State  always  leads.  The  politics  of  the 
other  States,  except  Georgia,  are  not  yet  sufficiently  of  a  decided  cha- 
racter to  justify  me  in  speaking  of  tnem.  As  to  Oeorgiay  with  pain 
I  must  declare  to  you,  that  nothing  can  equal  the  fury  of  its  fWctWM!, 
unless  it  be  those  of  Kentucky :  in  the  latter,  however,  the  oontcntioo 
is  for  principles ;  whilst  the  disputes  of  Georgia  are  merely  about  men. 
The  present  governor  has  pushed  matters  so  &r,  that  the  evil  is  in  a 
fair  way  of  being  cured  by  its  very  excess. 

'  The  other  States  form  the  west.  Incomparably  the  Im^geat  and 
richest  part  of  the  Union,  it  will  be  ere  long,  if  it  be  not  already,  the 
moiit  populous ;  power  will  follow  shortly,  as  well  as  luxury,  instmc- 
tion,  and  the  arts,  which  are  its  consequences*  Their  interesU  are 
manufacturing  and  agricultural ;  the  former  bearing  the  chief  sway. 
The  character  of  the  people  is  strongly  marked  by  a  rude  instinct  of 
robust  liberty,  degenerating  often  into  licentiousness,  a  simplicity  of 
morals,  and  an  uncouthness  of  manners,  approaching  occasionally  to 
coarseness  and  cynical  independence.  These  States  are  too  immatnre 
to  enable  me  to  say  much  of  their  politics,  which  are,  for  the  most 

Iiart,  sour  and  ignorant.  Universities,  established  everywhere  with 
uxury,  afford  promise  of  a  generation  of  better  informed  politicians, 
who  will  have  their  fathers'  faults  under  their  eyes  to  assiat  in  their 
own  enlightenment.'     Murat,  pp.  6— >15. 

AVe  are  not  sure  whether  Citizen  Murat^s  moral  and  political 
sketch,  though  a  Kealous  and  fervent  eulogy,  almost  througnont,  of 
his  adopted  country,  will  not,  upon  the  wnole,  leave  an  impression 
upon  many  English  readers,  as  unfavourable  to  the  Ameneans  as 
the  ill-natured  caricatures  fiimished  by  Mrs.  TroUope. 

The  *  Citizen  of  the  World"*,  who  has  favoured  us  with  his 
notions  of  the  Americans,  is  of  the  same  school  in  politics  b$ 
Citizen  Murat.  His  volume  is  dedicated  to  La  Fayette ;  and 
his  object  is,  to  teach  us  to  ^respect  a  people,  from  any  individual 
*  of  which,  the  immortal  Byron  was  proud  to  confess,  he  valued  a 
'  nod  more  highly  than  the  gift  of  a  s:iufF-box  from  an  emperor.^ 
Our  readers  will  know  what  to  look  for  in  the  opinions  of  a  ooa- 
mopoiist  of  this  school.  In  one  respect,  however,  justice  requires 
us  to  remark,  that  this  AVriter  differs  widely  in  sentiment  jfrom 
Mr.  Achilles  Murat.  He  is  720/  the  apologist  for  slavery,  or  for 
the  American  prejudices  respecting  the  free  coloured  portion  of 
the  population.  As  his  slight  and  rapid  sketch  is,  in  all  other 
respects,  complimentary  to  the  people  of  the  United  States,  bit 
evidence  upon  this  subject  must  be  considered  as  impartial.  We 
shall  therefore  extract  a  paragraph  or  two,  relating  to  thia  sad 
flaw  in  the  social  system. 


Untied  States  of  America,  841 

'  Tho  African  Cdonization  Society  must  be  looked  upon  as  f^  well* 
meant  plan,  and  as  one  which^  in  time^  may  create  a  moral  revolution 
in  the  natives  of  the  districts  of  Africa  contiguous  to  Liberia,  and  even 
of  those  in  the  interior  provinces  ;  but^  as  r^ards  America,  its  opera- 
tions  seemed  rather  calculated  to  perpetuate  than  to  extinguish  slavery. 
The  scheme,  as  far  as  benefiting  Afnca>  and,  perhaps,  the  individuala 
removed  thither,  is  a  good  one ;  but,  viewed  as  the  means  of  getting 
rid  of  the  whole  black  population, — 'which  idea  is  really  entertained 
by  many,  although  not  desired  by  the  owners  of  slaves,^t  is  chi- 
merical.'   p.  d49. 

*  As  might  be  supposed,  in  a  dlmmanity  like  that  of  New  York,' 
vhere  but  yesterday  man  might  be  bartered  and  sold  by  his  brother 
man,  the  general  feeling  towards  the  blacks  is  that  of  persons  to  a 
proscribed  caste ;  and  although  these  unfortunate  people  are  no  longer 
accounted  property,  and  are  enabled  to  stipulate  the  price  of  their 
ktboixr,  they  are  subject  to  the  most  degrading  treatment. 

*  No  persons  o(  colour,  whatever  may  be  their  characters,  abilities, 
or  Gonaition  of  Efe,  are  allowed  to  sit  in  any  public  assembly,  even- 
should  it  be  a  court  of  justice,  or  the  house  of  God  itself,  except  in 
the  particular  quarter  set  apart  foi*  them,  and  this  is  generally  in  the 
Btost  remote  and  worst  situation ;  and,  as  if  the  distinction  were  to  be 
perpetuated  for  ever,  their  very  bodies  are  denied  the  rigbt  of  sepulture 
la  tne  cemeteries  of  the  white  men. 

'  On  the  festival  [National  Jubilee^  I  havie  described^  the  insulting 
behaviour  of  manv  of  the  coachmen  and  carters  was  unblushingly  dis-- 
plajed  in  their  oriving  their  vehicles  so  as  to  interrupt  the  progress 
and  order  of  the  procession,  although  we  did  not  witness  a  single  pro« 
vocation  given  by  any  of  its  members,  whose  conduct  appeared^ 
throughout,  quiet  and  praiseworthy. 

'  Such  were  the  indignities  offered  bv  men  who  are  ready  to  sacri- 
fice their  lives  to  secure  the  blessings  of  liberty  for  their  white  brethren 
—to  those  whose  misfortune  is,  that  Heaven  nas  thought  fit  to  create 
them  of  a  darker  hue;  and  so  prevalent  is  the  want  of  Christian  feeling 
in  this  respect  in  America,  the  legacy  of  the  accursed  system  of  sliivery, 
that  I  but  speak  the  truth  when  I  state,  that  the  majority  of  the 
Americans,  like  the  white  inhabitants  of  every  country  where  the  evil 
exkts,  or  has  only  latelv  been  extinguished,  would  ailr  readily  sit  at 
table  or  associate  with  a  felon,  as  with  a  person  of  colour. 

*  It  will  be  some  consolation  to  the  friends  of  humanity,  however,  to 
be  t<^d  that,  despite  of  the  existing  temper,  exertions  are  making  by 
enlightened  individuals  to  raise  the  character  of  the  coloured  popu- 
lation, by  the  only  legitimate  means,  whether  as  regards  blacdcs  or 
whites, — the  establishment  of  schools. 

*  The  foremost  in  this  work  of  religioil  are  the  members  of  the  sect 
of  Friends,  who,  in  the  New  as  well  as  in  the  Old  World,  whatever 
may  be  their  peculiarities,  are  always  found  in  the  steps  of  their  Oreat 
Ma^r,  going  about  doing  good. 

'  Already  hundreds  of  black  children  in  New  York  Are  r^larly 
instructed  in  the  rudiments  of  knowledge ;  and  churches,  in  whicn 
Maok  ministers  of  the  Episcopal,  Independent,  and  Methodist  perdua- 
jSMOB  officiate,  are  attended  by  crowaed  congregations  oi  the  same 

VOL.  IX.— N.S.  G  G 


242  United  States  of  Atneriea, 

colour,  whose  attention  and  respectful  behtiviour  aflford  abundant  proof 
that  the  lessons  of  wisdom  are  not  preached  in  vain. 

*  "May  we  hope,  that  as  this  so  long  neglected  family  of  man  rises  in 
the  scale  of  being,  so  will  the  antichristian  treatment  yield  to  that  of 
philanthropy  ;  and  although  physical  distinction  of  race  will  naturallj 
be  a  bar  to  a  closer  union,  may  the  Americans,  as  well  as  others,  cease 
to  look  upon  their  darker  fellow  creatures  otherwise  than  as  brethren, 
and  children  of  the  same  Almighty  Father/     pp.  310 — 313. 

We  now  turn  with  pleasure  to  Mr.  Stuarts  volumes.  This 
gentleman  is  by  far  the  most  candid  and  intelligent  observer  of 
American  manners  and  customs,  and  institutions,  that  we  have 
fallen  in  with,  since  Mr.  Hodgson  and  Mr.  Duncan,  whose  works 
on  America  are  honourably  distinguished  by  their  spirit  and  in- 
telligence from  the  mass  of  letters  and  tours  which  have  been  put 
forth  respecting  the  United  States  by  superficial  or  prejudiced 
writers.  Without  Captain  Basil  Hall's  ^  patrician  horror  of  de- 
*  mocrasy%  or  his  egotism,  Mr.  Stuart  has  quite  as  much  shrewd- 
ness ;  and  though  he  has  not  eked  out  his  volumes  by  lengthy 
dissertations,  he  has  enhanced  their  value  by  availing  himseUT  of 
information  drawn  from  native  sources ;  acknowledging  his  obliga- 
tions in  particular  to  Darby'^s  View  of  the  United  States,  and 
Flint'^s  Geography  of  the  Western  States,  as  well  as  Count  Mar- 
bois's  instructive  History  of  Louisiana. 

Mr.  Stuart  sailed  from  Liverpool  for  New  York  in  July  1828, 
and  arrived  there  after  a  voyage  of  five  weeks.  The  first  twelve 
letters  are  occu})ied  with  a  descri])tion  of  the  city  and  state  of 
New  York,  including  a  voyage  up  the  Hudson,  a  visit  to  Niagara 
and  Lake  Ontario,  and  an  excursion  to  Saratoga  Springs.  He 
thence  proceeded  to  Boston,  where  he  passed  the  winter  of 
1828-9;  and  in  April,  returned  to  New  York,  by  way  of  Provi- 
dence, Hartford,  Newjiavcn,  and  Long  Island  Sound.  In  May, 
he  made  an  excursion  to  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  and  Washing- 
ton, which  occupies  a  chapter.  The  last  two  chapters  of  the 
first  volume,  as  well  as  the  first  two  of  the  second  volume,  are 
devoted  to  further  details  relating  to  the  State  of  New  York, 
which,  in  point  of  commercial  wealth  and  importance,  is  the  lead- 
ing State,  and  comprises  within  its  territory  some  of  the  most 
nicturesque  scenery  in  the  Union.  As  it  happens  to  be  that  part, 
however,  which  has  been  the  most  frequently  and  fully  described, 
there  is  less  novelty  in  this  part  of  Mr.  Stuart'^s  work,  than  in  his 
description  of  the  Southern  and  Western  States,  which  occupies 
the  remainder  of  the  work. 

Our  Traveller  visited  of  course  the  Auburn  Penitentiary,  and 
he  has  given  (as  Captain  Hall  had  done  before  him)  some  inter- 
esting details  respecting  the  system  adopted  there,  which  is  mak- 
ing rapid  progress  in  the  United  States.  We  pass  over  the  sub- 
ject at  present,  intending  to  advert  to  our  Author's  statemente 


Ihiited  States  of  America.  243 

and  remarks,  in  noticing  some  recent  publications,  now  on  our 
table,  upon  the  important  topic  of  Secondary  Punishments. 
Mr.  Stuart  was  much  struck  with  the  general  liberality  of  the  Ame- 
rican clergy,  and  their  freedom  from  sectarian  prejudice. 

'  During  my  residence  in  the  United  States  subsequent  to  this 
period^  I  was  frequently  witness  to  the  good  understanding  which 
generally,  though,  doubtless,  not  universally,  prevails  among  clergymen 
professing  different  opinions  on  church  forms,  and  doctrinal  points,  in 
this  country ;  and  I  occasionally  observed  notices  in  the  newspapers  to 
the  same  purpose.  The  two  following  I  have  preserved: — "The 
<Mimer-stone  of  a  new  Baptist  Church  was  laid  at  Savannah  in  Georgia, 
and  the  ceremonial  services  were  performed  by  the  clergymen  of  the 
Methodist,  German,  Lutheran,  Presbyterian,  Episcopal,  and  Baptist 
Churches.  The  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  was  administered  in 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Post's  church,  (Presbyterian  Church  at  Washing- 
ton,) and,  as  usual,  all  members  of  other  churches  in  regular  standing 
were  invited  to  unite  with  the  members  of  that  church,  in  testifying 
their  fiiith  in,  and  love  to,  their  Lord  and  Saviour.  The  invited  guests 
assembled  around  the  table ;  and  it  so  happened,  that  Mr.  Grundy,  a 
senator  from  Tenessee,  and  two  Cherokee  Indians,  were  seated  side  by 
aide." 

*  Nothing  is  more  astounding  in  the  stage-coach  intercourse  with  the 
people  of  this  country,  as  well  as  in  the  bar-rooms,  where  travellers 
meet,  than  the  freedom,  and  apparent  sincerity  of  their  remarks,  and 
the  perfect  feeling  of  equality  with  which  the  conversation  is  main- 
tained, especially  on  religious  matters.  I  have  heard  the  most 
opposite  creeds  maintained  without  any  thing  like  acrimonious  dis- 
cussion, or  sarcastic  remark,  by  persons  in  the  same  stage,  professine 
themselves  undisguisedly  Calvinists,  Episcopalians,  IVIethoaists,  and 
Unitarians.  On  one  occasion,  I  recollect  the  father  of  a  feimily  un- 
hesitatingly avow  in  a  considerable  party  of  people  in  his  own  house, 
that  he  was  a  free-thinker,  and  never  went  to  a  church ;  while  at  the 
same  time  his  daughters,  who  were  young  women,  had  brought  my 
wife  for  perusal  Calvinistical  religious  tracts,  of  which  she  understood 
them  to  express  their  approval.  It  would  perhaps  be  quite  as  well,  if 
hypocrisy  in  religious  matters  were  an  unfashionable  vice  in  other 
countries  as  well  as  this.  Lord  Byron  would  have  found,  if  he  had 
been  there,  that  it  does  not  always  require  to  be  chanted  by  a  ''  forty 
parson  power."  '     Vol.  I.  pp.  130—132. 

It  would  appear  from  this  statement,  that  the  red  men  are  ad- 
mitted to  Chnstian  fellowship,  at  least  in  New  York,  although 
the  blacks  and  the  mulattoes  are  excluded.  In  the  steam-boat, 
in  which  Mr.  Stuart  ascended  the  magnificent  Hudson,  the 
waiters  at  the  dinner-table  were  men  of  colour,  *  clean-looking, 

*  clever,  and  active, — evidently  picked  men  in  point  of  appear- 

*  ance.^ 

'  We  had  observed  on  deck ',  adds  Mr.  S.,  '  a  very  handsome 
woman  of  colour,  as  well  dressed  and  as  like  a  female  of  education  as 

G  G  2 


214  rnited  States  of  America, 

any  of  thfAO  OQ  buarrl.  Mj  wife,  who  had  «Nnc  cmivaaaciwa  vuii 
her,  rMki:fl  her,  ;vht:n  she  fuond  that  she  had  not  dined  Triia  tu,  vij 
fiho  haul  not  be«n  in  trie  cabin.  She  replied  Terr  miidi»<ilT,  tint  the 
people  of  thiit  OjUDtry  did  nut  eat  with  the  people  of  cuLmr.  Tbe 
in^iiinerH  and  appearance  of  this  lady  were  interafing:,  azad  wvsid  hare 
digtingui^ed  her  any  where.'     VoL  I.  p.  43. 

!\f  r.  Stuart  speaks  in  high  tenns  of  the  hotels  on  the  road  from 
Albany  to  B^jston.  *  AVe  were  not  shewn  into  a  parlour',  he 
8ay»,  '  in  any  of  the  stagc-hoiues  where  we  ftopped,  in  which 
^  there  waft  not  a  very  tolerable  library  in  histfjTy,  philoaopfay.  re- 
*•  li^on,  and  novels.  Paley,  RoIIin,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Dr.  Ro^ 
^  l>ert4on,  and  Cooper  *,  are  almost  always  on  the  shdret  of  a 

*  lK>ok-case,  and  there  is  a  piano  in  the  room  much  oftener  ihin 

*  in  Kritain/  The  following  description  of  a  country  town  in 
New  Kngland,  tempts  citation. 

^  The  next  place  of  note  where  wc  stopped  was  Xarthamptoo,  ia 
the  wciitern  part  of  the  .•ktate  of  Majisachusetts,  and  between  nfty  aad 
sixty  miles  from  Albany^  and  which^  whether  taking  it  alone,  or  ia 
conjunction  with  the  neighbouring  country,  Li  decidedly  the  moit 
l>eautifiil  village  that  I  have  seen  in  this  country.  The  only  plaot  at 
all  X«f  \te  comjKured  with  it  is  Canandaigua.  The  riUagei  of  New 
Kn^Iand  are  proverbial  for  their  neatness  and  cleanness.  Cooper,  the 
wetl-knowu  Amr:rican  writer,  says  truly :  *'  New  England  may  jostlj 
glory  in  lier  villages, — in  space,  freshness,  and  an  air  of  neatness  and 
of  comfort,  they  far  exceed  any  thing  I  have  ever  seen  even  in  the 
Mother  o>untry.  I  have  ])assed  in  one  day  six  or  seven  of  theie 
Ix^autiful  hamlets,  for  not  one  of  which  I  have  been  able  to  reooUect 
an  criual  in  the  aiurse  of  all  my  European  travelling."  It  is^  in  £Mt, 
hardly  |KiSHible  to  figure  a  hanclsumer  country  to^'n  than  Nortkamptoo, 
or  a  more  charming  country  than  that  in  its  neighbourhood ;  bat  the 
t4m'n  is  not  more  remarkable  for  neatness  and  cleanness,  and  lor  haad- 
some  and  suitable  buUdinin,  and  houses  and  gardens,  than  &r  beauty 
of  situation  and  the  delightful  scenery  in  its  vicinity.  No  m(*re  trsb* 
velier  who  comes  to  this  country  will  do  justice  to  it,  if  he  does  not 
vJHit  Northampton.  If  a  traveller  in  Britain  were  to  stumble  upon 
such  a  place  aH  thin,  he  would  not  fail  to  inquire  whose  great  estate 
was*  in  the  nei^lilHiurhtKMl,  and  attribute  the  decorations  of  shrubs, 
Howirrs,  &c.  wliicli  adorn  even  the  smallest  habitations  here,  to  the 
taKt4!  of  a  wealthy  neighbour,  or  to  his  being  obliged  to  make  them  to 
promote  electioneering  views.  Here,  every  thins  is  done  by  the  people 
sfH»ntan«'ouslv,  and  if  any  authority  is  exerted,  it  ia  by  officers  ap- 
|N»inLcd  by  themKcIvcH. 

*  The  iHiiiidation  of  Northampton  amounts  to  between  3000  or 
40(K^  ana  there  i.s  only  one  great  broad  street,  with  a  few  fine  trees» 
in  which  nn;  situated  the  churches  and  court-house — buildings  ded« 
deflly  ornHmentuI,  and  of  C'jn.siderable  size.     But  the  beauty  of  the 


•  Query,  (Jow|H:r='  or  the  American  Cooper? 


Untied  States  of  America.  245 

plaoe»  apart  from  the  situation,  arises  from  the  great  width  of  the 
iitreetf  and  the  light,  clean  appearance  of  the  white,  plain  houses,  ^vith 
their  verandas,  porticoes,  and  green  Venetian  blinds,  enclosed  with 
handsome  white  railings  in  large  pieces  of  dressed  garden-ground,  or- 
namented with  large  old  trees.  Northampton  consists,  in  truth,  of  a 
numb^  of  villas  of  various  sizes,  but  very  pleasing,  though  irregular, 
architecture,  seeming  to  vie  with  each  other  in  the  taste  and  elegance 
of  their  external  decorations.  There  is  primitive  white  limestone  in 
the  ueighbourhood,  and  much  of  the  pavement  and  steps  are  of  white 
iBarble«  The  trees  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  town  are  single  spread- 
ing trees*  principally  elms,  and  of  considerable  age ; — the  roads  are 
wide,  and  the  foot*paths  are  excellent  every  where.  We  were  shewn 
the  old  elms  that  shaded  the  house  of  the  celebrated  President  fid- 
wards.  At  the  hotel  where  we  lodged,  kept  by  Mr.  Warner,  the  din- 
ner set  down  to  us  alone  was  as  good  and  as  well  dressed  as  at  anj 
London  hotel.  A  very  handsome  female  i^miter  attended  us,  and  took 
her  seat  by  us,  very  much  as  our  equal. 

'  Northampton  is  surrounded  by  rising  grounds,  on  one  of  which  19 
placed  a  flourishing  academy,  from  which  there  is  one  of  the  best  views 
of  the  tower ;  but  Mount  Halyoke,  situated  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  Coanectieut  river,  and  about  800  feet  high,  is  the  hill  which  all 
ttiangers  ascend,  for  the  sake  of  the  very  extensive  and  glorious  pros- 
pect firom  its  summit.  There  is  not  much  difficulty  in  getting  to  the 
tap ;  and  the  labour  is  fully  repaid  by  the  splendour  of  the  view  of 
the  river  Connecticut  and  its  windings,  and  of  a  very  rich  and  fertile 
ralley.  This  valley  contains  the  most  extensive  and  beautiful  plain  in 
New  England,  weu*ctiltivated  and  populous.  About  thirty  churches, 
all  with  spires,  are  seen  from  the  t<^  of  Mount  of  Halyoke,  from  which 
too,  in  a  clear  day,  the  hills  of  Newhaven,  on  Long  Island  Sound,  are 
distinctly  visible. 

*  The  whole  of  the  viUagea  from  NorthamptDn  to  Worcester^  are 
handsomely  laid  out  and  comfortable  place6>  and  every  thing  about 
them  so  neat  and  so  much  in  order  that  it  is  delightful  to  see  them. 
If  we  had  not  been  at  Northampton  in  the  Arst  place,  we  should  have 
been  more  loud  in  their  praise ;  but  about  Northampton,  there  is  se 
much  more  appearance  of  real  comfort,  and  of  beautiful  vilh^  scen- 
ery, than  I  have  seen  any  where  else,  that  it  is  absohitely  necessary 
to  moderate  the  language  employed  in  eulogizing  the  other  villages  of 
New  Engkad  through  which  we  passed.'     V<d.  I.  pp.  295—298. 

Mr.  Stuart  was  present  at  a  camp-meeting  held  at  Musquita 
Cove,  in  Long  Island  Sound ;  and  his  description  of  the  assem- 
bly, together  with  the  reflections  which  are  sub).oined,  will  begcs- 
tifying  to  our  readers. 

*  The  meeting  vras  held  within  a  forest  or  wood,  where  a  sufficient 
nimber  of  trees  had  been  cut  to  make  soch  an  opening  as  was  required. 
The  morning  service  was  concluded  some  time  before  we  arrived. 
From  the  high  grounds,  the  view  of  the  bav,  of  the  shipping,  and  of 
the  assembled  multitudes,  with  their  carnages  and  horses,  was  very 
striking.  A  great  many  of  the  people  were  straggling  in  the  adjoining 
fields  during  the  interval  of  the  service.     The  shipping,  all  of  which 


246  United  States  of  America. 

liad  been  employed  in  bringing  persons  from  a  considerable  distance  to 
join  the  meeting,  consisted  of  five  steam-boats,  about  sixty  sloops  nnd 
schooners,  besides  open  boats.  The  number  of  horses  and  carriages 
Mus  proportionably  great.  It  was  calculated  that  there  were  about 
12^000  persons  on  the  ground^ — certainly  not  less  than  9000  or  10,000. 

'  There  seemed  to  be  about  a  dozen  of  clergymen,  all  belonging  to 
the  Methodist  persuasion,  in  a  large  covered  and  elevated  platform. 

*  Benches  were  provided  for  the  congregation,  placed  on  the  vacant 
or  open  space  in  front  of  the  platform.  The  males  were  on  the  one 
side  of  the  benches  and  the  females  on  the  other.  There  were  benches 
fur  a  great  part  of  the  assembled  multitude,  and  the  benches  Were 
surrounded  on  all  sides  by  a  close  body  of  those  who  had  only  standing 
room.  When  the  afternoon  service  commenced,  the  eflTect  of  this  pnn 
digious  assemblage  of  T)eople,  all  standing,  lifting  up  their  voices,  and 
joining  in  praise  to  their  Creator,  was  more  sublime  than  those  who 
have  not  witnessed  such  a  scene  can  well  imagine.  The  sermon, 
which  was  afterwards  delivered,  lasted  for  an  hour,  and  was  distinctly 
heard  all  over  the  ground,  for  the  most  perfect  order  and  silence  pre- 
vailed. The  clergyman  preached  from  the  29th  verse  of  the  lOth 
chapter  of  the  book  of  Numbers :  "  We  are  journeying  unto  the  place 
of  which  the  Lord  said,  I  will  give  it  you :  come  thou  with  us,  and  we 
will  do  thee  good  ;  for  the  Lord  hath  spoken  good  concerning  Israel." 
The  discourse  seemed  to  me  altogether  ^ultless,  and  the  address  at  the 
end  was  most  remarkably  impressive.  The  speaker,  in  the  conduaion, 
alluded  to  the  sect  of  Christians  to  which  he  belonged,  the  Methodists ; 
but  he  meant,  he  added,  to  say  "  nought  against  other  denominations 
of  Christians  who  did  good."  After  sermon,  prayer,  all  kneeling, 
succeeded.  Then  a  hymn  was  sung,  and  another  clerg3rman,  a  very 
old  man,  coming  to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  said  that  a  friend  whom 
they  had  never  heard  before  was  about  to  address  them.  Another 
clergyman,  an  aged  person,  then  stepped  forward,  to  enforce,  as  he 
said,  the  invitation  in  the  text,  whicn  he  did  very  shortly,  and  veiy 
skilfully,  particularly,  and  with  great  earnestness,  exhorting  those 
members  who  had  lately  been  added  to  their  churdi,  to  oommnnicate 
to  their  brothers,  sisters,  and  friends,  some  idea  of  the  happiness  which 
they  now  enjoyed,  that  they  might  be  induced  to  follow  tneir  example, 
and  accept  the  invitation,  by  joining  the  church,  even  before  the 
meeting  was  over. 

'  The  afternoon  service  was  concluded  as  usual,  with  singing  and 
prayer,  and  the  most  perfect  decorum  prevailed.  The  service  con- 
tinued for  about  two  hours  and  a  half. 

'  I  understood  that  this  meeting  was  to  last  for  about  fonr  days. 
IMany  people  came  from  a  distance  of  one  hundred  miles  and  upwards. 
The  great  objects  of  holding  such  meetings  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
are  to  afford  opportunities  to  persons  whose  situation,  such  as  that  of 
servants,  prevents  them  from  attending  worship  on  Sunday,  of  beinff 
present  on  the  occasion,  when  they  are  almost  always  indulged,  ana 
allowed  to  avail  themselves  of  it ;  and  to  keep  people  who  have  not  yet 
turned  their  minds  to  religious  subjects,  together  for  such  a  time,  that 
their  attention  must  be  arrested.  It  is  conceived  that  extraordinary 
efforts  ought  fre<^uently  to  be  made  by  all  those  ministers  of  Christ 


United  States  of  America,  247 

who  are  faithfal,  and  do  not  neglect  their  duty.  Such  of  the  clergy  as 
approve  of  the  observance  of  numerous  days  for  prayer  meetings,  and 
of  such  assemblages  as  this,  ascribe  the  want  of  revivals,  by  which  I 
merely  understand  the  addition  of  any  considerable  number  of  converts 
at  one  time  to  any  churchy  to  the  languor  of  the  minister^  and  to  his 
making  no  further  exertion  than  custom  has  established  as  a  standard. 
They  maintain,  that  where  the  minister  contents  himself  with  preach- 
ing once  or  twice  on  the  Sabbath^  performing  the  professional  duties 
required  of  him,  and  nothing  more,  without  questioning  himself 
whether  any  thing  more  be  required  of  him  by  the  precepts  of  the 
religion  he  professes,  the  church  becomes  relaxed  in  discipline^ — and 
that  the  absence  of  any  thing  like  a  revival  in  such  circumstances, 
ahows  that  those  who  believe  in  the  Gospel  of  Christ  must  perform 
more  ministerial  and  Christian  duties,  and  must  shew  more  earnestness. 
I  bad  a  very  different  notion  of  what  was  meant  by  a  revival  of  religion 
in  the  United  States,  both  from  what  I  had  previously  heard,  and 
from  what  I  had  been  told  since  I  was  in  this  country,  by  persons  who 
consider  every  clergvman  to  be  weak,  and  eccentric,  and  an  enthusiast, 
who  deviates  from  the  ordinary  routine  of  ministerial  operation,  or  who 
shows  the  sincerity  of  his  belief  by  using  all  the  means  in  his  power  to 
obtain  converts  to  that  religion  which  he  professes  to  believe. 

The  United  Slates  being  free  from  any  religious  establishment^  every 
one  is  not  only  tolerated  in  the  exercise  of  the  religion  he  believes,  but 
is  at  full  liberty,  without  the  fear,  except  in  very  few  and  very  pecu- 
liar cases,  of  his  temporal  concerns  being  at  all  affected  by  his  religious 
profession^  (whatever  it  may  be,)  to  embrace  those  reL'gious  doctrines 
which  he  conceives  on  due  consideration  are  true.  It  follows  from 
this  state  of  things,  that  there  is  much  less  hypocrisy  in  the  professors 
of  religion  in  this  than  in  other  countries.  Those  in  this  country, 
who  v^untarily  go  to  a  Protestant  church,  and  who  voluntarily  pay 
for  the  ministration  of  a  Christian  clergyman,  may  be  generally,  (I  do 
not  mean  to  say  universally,)  held  to  have  made  the  necessary  ex- 
amination, and  to  be  real  believers  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Christian 
religion ; — whereas  those  from  other  countries,  who  have  travelled  in 
the  United  States,  and  who  have  put  forth  sneering  aud  ill  founded 
statements  on  the  subject  of  revivals,  camp-meetings,  &c.  are  generally 
Christians  professing  that  religion,  merely  because  their  parents  did  so, 
or  because  Christianity  is  the  religion  of  their  country,  and  not  because 
they  ever  investigated  its  truth.  I  found  at  Northampton  a  short 
narrative  of  a  revival  in  a  Presbyterian  church  at  Baltimore,  written 
in  a  plain  unsophisticated  style  by  Mr.  Walton,  the  clergyman  of  that 
church,  which  I  would  recommend  to  the  attention  of  some  late 
English  writers,  who,  in  perfect  ignorance,  as  it  appears  to  me,  treat 
the  religious  meetings  and  the  revivals  in  the  United  States  in  a  con- 
temptuous manner,  and  as  if  they  were  approved  and  attended  by  no 
one  of  sane  mind.  Mr.  Walton  describes  himself  as  having  been  for 
many  years  a  clergyman,  who  thought  that,  by  preaching  the  gospel  at 
the  usual  times,  he  was  doing  all  that  was  required  of  him,  and  that  he 
ought  to  leave  the  rest  to  the  Divine  influence ;  adding,  that,  upon 
being  called  to  a  different  sphere  of  labour,  he  had  an  increasing  desire 
to  be  useful.      He   redoubled   his   exertions;   he  appointed  prayer 


248  United  States  of  America. 

mcctingR^  not  only  publicj  but  private,  from  hoiuc  to  house,  ind 
engaged  the  assistance  of  all  who  were  members  of  the  charch,  to  ibh 
press  upon  the  young  people  the  necessity  of  their  examining  the 
doctrines  of  the  Christian  religion,  and,  professins  them,  if  they 
believed  them  to  be  true.  The  result  was  the  addition  of  between 
eighty  and  ninety  communicants  to  his  church  in  the  spaoe  of  a  few 
months.  And  this  is  precisely  what  is  called  a  reTival  in  the  Um'ted 
States,  and  what  was  formerly,  and  what  very  probably  now  it,  amntf 
certain  classes  of  Christians,  called  a  revinil  in  Greet  Britain.  A 
revival  then  happens  as  often  as  any  clergyman  is  led  to  make  grtafeer 
exertions  than  are  usual,  either  by  himseu,  or  by  exciting  his  flock,  or 
by  tlicir  united  exertions ;  and  when  the  oonseqtienoe  of  their  hiboiir 
iH,  that  a  greater  number  of  persons  than  usual  is  added  to  the  churdi. 
Is  there  anything  irrational  in  this  ?  Quite  the  contrary.  This  is  not 
the  place  ror  attempting  to  prove  or  to  disprove  the  truth  of  the 
Christian  religion.  What  I  maintain  is  this,  and  nothing  more  than 
this,  that  all  persons,  whether  clergymen  or  Laymen,  shonul  show  tlicir 
belief  in  the  religion,  whether  Mahometan,  Roman  Catholic,  or  Pro- 
testant, which  they  profess,  by  obeying  its  precepts  and  doctrines ;  aod 
more  especially,  that  clergymen,  wtio  set  themselves  apart  to  the  woA 
of  the  ministry,  should  be  zealous  in  promoting  the  doctrines  of  the 
religion  they  have  embraced.  Those  who  do  not  so  act  diow  thcsm- 
selves  the  vilest  of  all  hypocrites.  If  they  are  clergymen^  professing 
the  Christian  religion,  it  is  well  known  to  all  those  acqnaintea  with  the 
doctrines  of  the  Bible,  that  no  duty  is  more  strictly  enjoined  than  thst 
the  teachers  of  the  word  should  preach  it  to  the  worlds — should  be  in- 
strumental in  saving  all  the  souls  they  can.  They  are  bound  to  make 
tlie  utmost  exertions  that  it  is  possible  for  them  to  make,  in  order  to 
produce  in  others  the  same  belief  which  they  entertain.  We  have 
teachers  of  philosophy,  and  of  every  branch  of  scienoe,  atid  applaud 
and  honour  those  who  show  the  greatest  earnestness  and  taknt  ia 
explaining  and  enforcing  those  doctrines  which  they  themsdvea  beliete. 
Wny  should  equal  earnestness  and  sincerity  not  be  expected  fron 
those  who  undertake  to  teach  and  explain  the  doctrines  of  tne  Christisii 
religion?'    pp.  413-419. 

As  we  ho]>c,  before  long,  to  devote  a  distinct  article  to  the  sub- 
ject of  what  are  termed  *  Ilevivals,'  we  offer  no  comments  upon 
these  sensible  remarks.  Mr.  Stuart  proceeds  to  cite  the  opinions 
of  Dr.  John  Erskinc  and  Sir  Henry  Moncricff  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  ^  revivals  "*  at  Cambusleng,  and  other  places  in  the  West 
of  Scotland,  in  the  last  century.  He  concluacs  with  the  follow- 
ing very  sensible  remarks. 

'  All  human  institutions  arc  liable  to  abuse ;  and  there  is  no  greater 
reason  to  maintain,  that,  liecause  immoralities  may  have  taken  place 
among  the  multitudes  assembled  at  camp- meetings  in  the  United  States, 
that  such  meetings  should  be  discontinued,  than  that  the  saenunental 
meetings  in  Scidland,  at  which  instances  of  impn^riety  of  conduct 
have  bet*n  said  to  occur,  should  be  put  down. 

'  I  lM:lievc  many  of  the  clergy  of  the  United  States  also  conceive, 
froBi  the  experience  of  tlie  past,  that  more  converts  are  to  be  expected 


United  States  of  America.  240 

from  a  great  meeting  lasting  geveral  days^  when  the  people  are  as  much 
as  possible  abstracted  from  secular  business,  than  from  the  ordinary 
services  of  the  church.  They  refer,  in  order  to  prove  the  propriety  of 
this  sort  of  meeting,  to  the  15th  chapter  of  St.  Matthew,  verses  30  and 
#f^.  where  the  multitude,  consisting  of  4000,  besides  women  and 
children,  remained  with  Christ  three  days, — to  the  8th  chapter  of  St. 
Mark,  verses  4  and  ^e^.— and  to  the  sermon  from  the  Mount,  (in  St. 
Matthew,  chapters  5,  6,  7»)  preached  by  Christ  from  the  mountain  to 
the  multitudes. 

'  "  It  is  to  be  recollected,"  says  Lord  Byron,  (perhaps  a  singular 
authority  to  refer  to  on  such  a  subject,)  ''  that  the  most  beautiful  and 
impressive  doctrines  of  the  Divine  Founder  of  Christianity  were  de- 
livered, not  in  the  Temple,  but  on  the  Mount ;  and  that,  waiving  the 
question  of  devotion,  and  turning  to  human  eloquence,  the  most 
effectual  and  splendid  specimens  were  not  pronounced  within  walls. 
Demosthenes  addressed  the  public  and  popular  assemblies.  Cicero 
spoke  in  the  forum.  That  this  added  to  their  effect,  on  the  mind  of 
both  orator  and  hearer,  may  be  conceived,  from  the  difference  between 
what  we  read  of  the  emotions  then  and  there  produced,  and  those  we 
ourselves  experience  in  the  perusal  in  the  closet." 

'  Lord  Bvron  adds,  ''  that,  were  the  early  and  rapid  progress  of  what 
is  called  Methodism  to  be  attributed  to  any  cause  beyond  the  en- 
tinisiasm  excited  by  vehement  flEiith  and  doctrines,  (the  truth  or  error 
of  which  he  presumed  neither  to  canvass  nor  to  question,)  he  should 
venture  to  ascribe  it  to  the  practice  of  preaching  in  the  fields,  and  the 
unstudied  and  extemporaneous  effusions  of  its  teachers." ' 

Vol.  I.  pp.  424—426. 

Passing  over  much  interesting  matter,  and  some  that  would 
tempt  animadversion*,  we  must  now  turn  to  the  darker  side  of 
the  picture.     While  Mr.  Stuart  was  at  New  York, 

'  A  strange  incident,  as  it  appeared  to  us,  happened  at  the  begin- 
ning of  one  of  Mr.  Denny s'  Lectures.  A  man  of  colour,  perfectly 
well  apparelled,  entered  the  room,  and  was  coming  forward  with  a 
▼iew  to  hear  the  lecture,  which  had  commenced.  Mr.  Dennys,  address- 
ing him,  told  him  to  go  out,  saying,  ''  We  want  no  people  of  colour 
here ;  they  are  very  well  in  their  own  way,  but  we  don't  mean  to  make 
them  astronomers."  The  poor  fellow  was  obliged  to  comply.  After 
the  lecture,  I  ventured  to  remonstrate  with  Mr.  Dennys  upon  the  gross 
impropriety  of  his  conduct ;  but  his  answer  was  quite  satisfactory,  as 
fiur  as  he  was  concerned, — the  fact  being,  as  he  stated,  that  he  had  no 
alternative.  The  people  connected  with  the  schools,  and  his  audience 
generally,  would  have  left  the  room  if  he  had  allowed  a  man  of  colour 
to  remain.  Nothing  can  be  more  disgraceful  to  the  people  of  the 
United  States,  nor  more  inconsistent  with  their  professed  principles  of 

*  We  ri^ret  that  Mr.  Stuart  has  given  insertion  at  pp.  50 — 62,  to 
the  official  report  on  Sunday  Mails,  without  noticing  the  counter-re- 
port, and  without  any  expression  of  disapprobation  of  Col.  Johnson's 
flippant,  declamatory,  and  discreditable  production. 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  H  H 


250  United  States  of  America. 

equality,  than  their  treatment  of  the  free  people  of  oolonr.  They  coo- 
Btantly  suhject  them  to  indignities  of  every  kind,  and  reluae  altogether 
to  cat  or  drink  vnxh.  them.  If  you  have  black  aerranta  and  white 
ser^'ants  in  the  same  house,  they  never  upon  any  oocaaion  eat  together, 
and  this  circumstance  very  often  obliges  people  to  have  aerranta  of  to* 
lour  t<^ther.'     Vol.  II.  pp.  16,  17- 

One  of  the  first  circumstances  that  struck  Mr.  Stuart,  on  ap- 
proaching the  slave-states,  was  the  profane  language  which  there 
became  familiar. 

'  The  habit  of  lording  it  over  the  black  population,  and  sweuingat 
them,  seems  to  have  induced  a  eeneral  habit  of  swearing  among  tht 
whites  as  well  as  the  blacks ;  which  is  the  more  remarkable,  becante 
an  oath  is  scarcely  ever  heard  in  the  northern  states  of  thia  conntry.' 

voL  II.  p.  m 

While  sitting  in  the  portico  at  Halifax  (N.  Carolina),  where 
they  stopped  to  change  horses,  Mr.  Stuart  was  accosted  by  a 
gentleman,  who  inquired  of  him  what  was  the  number  of  slaves 
tor  sale  at  the  court-house  that  day ;  as  here  a  person  would  ask 
the  price  of  com  or  of  stocks.     Mr.  Stuart  says : — 

*  I  explained  his  mistake  to  him,  and  I  then  asked  him  some  ques- 
tions with  respect  to  the  slave-market  here.  He  said,  the  price  gene- 
rally given  for  a  young  man,  was  375  dollars,  though,  ror  the  best 
hands,  400  dollars  are  sometimes  given  ;  that  250  dollus  was  the  price 
for  a  fine  young  woman,  until  after  she  had  her  first  child ;  af^  mich 
she  became  more  ^'aluable,  as  she  was  then  more  to  be  depended  on  for 
increasing  the  stock.  He  never,  he  said,  separated  husband  and  wife, 
but  some  people  did  separate  them,  as  well  as  children,  and  then  ihq 
had  a  crying  scene  ;  thai  was  alL'    Vol.  II.  pp.  113,  114. 

A  few  stages  further,  Mr.  Stuart^s  stopping  place  was  a  rice- 
plantation,  where  he  obtained  some  further  insight  into  die  treat- 
ment of  slaves  in  America. 

'  The  slaves  were  numerous,  and  were,  I  had  reason  to  believe  from 
what  I  afterwards  heard,  as  well  treated  as  they  generally  are  in  this 
country ;  but  it  did  not  seem  to  me  that  their  want  of  education,  and 
the  want  of  ordinary  comforts,  place  them  in  a  situation  much  re- 
moved from  the  brutes.  They  had  little  clothing,  all  of  <me  drab  co- 
lour ;  and  not  one  of  them  had  bed-clothes.  I  had  full  leisure  to  tnllr 
with  them,  but  of  course  I  was  bound  to  do  so  with  prudence.  Every 
one  of  them,  however,  with  whom  I  had  an  opportunity  of  conversing, 
declared  themselves  unhappy  and  miserable  in  their  situation.  A  cer« 
tain  task  is  allotted  to  each  of  them,  and  if  this  is  not  done,  they  are 
subjected  to  one  of  three  punishments,  whipping,  wearing  irons,  or 
putting  in  the  stocks.  They  detest  nothing  so  much  as  to  be  poaished 
Dy  a  black  overseer — by  one  of  their  own  race ;  they  view  the  degra- 
dation to  be  comparatively  trifling  when  the  punishment  is  inflictedby 
the  master  himself.     I  was  told  here,  on  authority  which  seemed  to  be 


United  States  of  America.  251 

qnite  unquestionable^  that  of  a  wealthy  planter  who  lived  in  this 
neighbourhood^  that  a  planter^  whose  estate  is  at  no  ^eat  distance 
from  the  high  road  which  I  was  travelling,  was  in  the  habit  of  punish- 
ing his  slaves,  when  he  thought  that  they  required  severe  discipline, 
by  putting  them  in  coffins,  which  were  partly  nailed  down,  ana  that 
this  punishment  had  again  and  again  resulted  in  the  death  of  the 
slaves.  The  gentleman  who  communicated  this  information  to  me^ 
spoke  of  it  with  horror ;  but,  upon  my  asking  why  such  conduct  was 
not  punished,  since  it  was  known  in  the  neighbourhood,  by  virtue  of 
the  law  which  declared  the  killing  of  a  slave  to  be  murder,  ne  replied, 
that  his  neighbour  took  very  good  care  of  himself.  The  punishment 
tiras  inflicted  only  in  the  presence  of  slaves,  whose  evidence  was  inad- 
missible. He  added,  however,  that  the  coffins  had  been  seen,  and  that 
the  slaves,  who  it  was  said  had  lost  their  lives,  had  disappeared^  and 
that  no  doubt  was  entertained  that  their  deaths  had  been  occasioned  by 
their  being  shut  up  in  coffins.  The  same  person  who  has  recourse  to 
this  savage  punishment,  works  his  slaves  on  Sunday,  though  contrary 
to  law,  taking  care  that  no  white  man  sees  them.' 

Vol.  II.  pp.  118,  119. 

Marriage  among  the  slaves  is  generally  allowed ;  but  the  most 
revolting  polygamy  is  forced  upon  the  married  slaves  of  both 
sexes,  at  the  pleasure  of  the  owner.  Anecdotes  which  we  can- 
not detail,  are  given  by  Mr.  Stuart,  in  illustration  of  the  state 
o£  morals  induced  by  slaveiy  in  both  the  whites  and  the  blacks. 
In  one  conversation  at  which  he  was  present,  ^  it  turned  out,  that 

*  the  planter  was  frequently  waited  upon  at  table  by  his  own 
^  children  J  and  had  actually  sent  some  of  them  to  the  public 

*  market  J  to  be  sold  as  slaves,''  This  was  in  South  Carolina. 
At  Charleston,  the  capital  of  this  state,  there  is  a  regulation, 
which  prohibits  any  of  the  coloured  people,  who  form  about  one 
half  of  the  population,  from  being  out  of  their  residences  after 
nine  oVlock  in  the  evening.  On  returning  to  his  hotel,  Mr. 
Stewart  found  the  male  servants  of  the  house  ^  already  laid  down 

*  for  the  night  in  the  passages,  with  their  clothes  on.     They  nei- 

*  ther  get  beds  nor  bedding  here,  and  you  may  kick  them  or  tread 

*  upon  them  with  impunity.'*  Mr.  S.  was  so  fortunate  as  to  ar- 
rive at  Charleston  the  week  of  the  races.  They  were  very  well 
attended,  he  says,  by  gentlemen  and  by  the  nobility ;  (an  expres- 
sion which  we  do  not  precisely  understand  ;)  but  the  number  of 
ladies  was  comparatively  smaU. 

'  Although  there  are  constables  at  the  starting-post,  to  prevent  the 
people  from  coming  on  the  course,  one  of  the  stewards  appeared  very 
much  to  envy  them  their  calling ;  for  no  sooner  did  a  man  of  colour 
appear  on  the  course,  and  within  his  reach,  than  he  struck  him  with 
his  horsewhip.  No  rvonder  that  these  people  thirst  for  vengeance. 
Here,  on  the  race-course,  there  were  at  least  two  men  of  colour  for 
every  white  person ;  yet  they  were  obliged  to  submit  to  treatment 

H  H  2 


252  United  States  of  America. 

which  the  white  man  dared  not  even  to  have  threatened  to  a  peraon  of 
his  own  colour.'     Vol.  II.  p.  134. 

What  then  must  be,  in  such  a  state  of  society,  the  treatment 
of  the  slaves  ?     Let  Mr.  Stuart  supply  the  answer. 

'  I  was  placed  in  a  situation  at  Charleston,  which  gave  me  too  fire- 
quent  opportunities  to  witness  the  effects  of  slavery  in  its  moat  asgra« 
vated  state.  Mrs.  Street  (the  mistress  of  the  hotel)  treated  aUtlie 
servants  in  the  house  in  the  most  barbarous  manner ;  and  thia«  althoo^ 
she  knew  that  Stewart^  the  hotel-keeper  here,  had  lately  neariy  kit 
his  life  by  maltreating  a  slave.  He  b^t  his  cook,  who  was  a  atout  fel- 
low, until  he  could  no  longer  support  it.  He  rose  upon  his  master* 
and  in  his  turn  gave  him  such  a  beating  that  it  had  nearly  coat  him 
his  life ;  the  cook  immediately  left  the  house,  ran  off",  and  was  never 
afterwards  heard  of, — it  was  supposed  that  he  had  drowned  himself. 
Not  a  day,  however,  passed  without  my  hearing  of  Mrs.  Street  whip- 
ping and  ill  using  her  unfortunate  slaves.  On  one  occasion,  when  one 
of  the  female  slaves  had  disobliged  her,  she  beat  her  until  her  own 
strength  was  exhausted,  and  then  insisted  on  the  bar-keeper,  Mr.  Fer- 
guson, (a  Scotchman,)  proceeding  to  inflict  the  remainder  of  the  pa- 
nishment.  Mrs.  Street  in  the  mean  time  took  her  place  in  the  bar- 
room. She  instructed  him  to  lay  on  the  whip  severely  in  an  adjoining 
room.  His  nature  was  repugnant  to  the  execution  of  the  doty  whim 
was  imposed  on  him.  He  gave  a  wink  to  the  girl,  who  understood  it 
and  bellowed  lustily,  while  he  made  the  whip  crack  on  the  walls  of  the 
room.  Mrs.  Street  expressed  herself  to  be  quite  satisfied  with  the  way 
in  which  Ferguson  had  executed  her  instructions ;  but,  unfbrtumitely 
for  him,  his  lenity  to  the  girl  became  known  in  the  house,  and  the  anb- 
ject  of  merriment,  and  was  one  of  the  reasons  for  his  dismissal  befm 
I  left  the  house ; — but  I  did  not  know  of  the  most  atrocious  of  all  the 
proceedings  of  this  cruel  woman  until  the  very  day  that  I  qnaitted  the 
house.  I  had  put  up  my  clothes  in  my  portmanteau,  when  I  was 
about  to  set  out ;  but,  finding  it  \vas  rather  too  full,  I  had  difficulty  in 
getting  it  closed  to  allow  me  to  lock  it ;  I  therefore  told  one  of  the  boys 
to  send  me  one  of  the  stoutest  of  the  men  to  assist  me.  A  great  robnst 
fellow  soon  afterwards  appeared,  whom  I  found  to  be  the  oook,  with 
tears  in  his  eves;— I  asked  him  what  was  the  matter?  He  told  me 
that,  just  at  the  time  when  the  boy  called  for  him,  he  had  got  so  sharp 
a  blow  on  the  cheek-bone,  from  this  devil  in  petticoats,  as  had  un- 
manned, him  for  the  moment.  Upon  my  expressing  oommiaeiatioa 
for  him,  he  said,  he  viewed  this  as  nothing,  but  that  be  was  leading  a 
life  of  terrible  suffering ; — that  about  two  years  had  elanaed  since  he 
and  his  wife,  with  his  two  children,  had  been  exposed  in  the  public 
market  at  Charleston  for  sale, — that  he  had  been  purchased  by  Mr. 
Street, — that  his  wife  and  children  had  been  purchased  by  a  different 
person,  and  that,  though  he  was  living  in  the  same  town  with  them, 
ne  never  was  allowed  to  see  them  ; — he  would  be  beaten  within  an  aoe 
of  his  life  if  he  ventured  to  go  to  the  comer  of  the  street. 

'  Wherever  the  least  symptom  of  rebellion  or  insubordination  ap- 


United  States  of  America.  953 

pears  at  Charleston  on  the  part  of  a  slave^  the  master  sends  the  slave 
to  the  gaol>  where  he  is  whipped  or  beaten  as  the  master  desires.  The 
Duke  of  Saxe  Weimar,  in  nis  travels,  mentions  that  he  visited  this 
gaol  in  December  1825 ;  that  the  "  black  overseers  go  about  every^ 
where  armed  with  cow  hides ;  that  in  the  basement  story  there  is  an 
apparatus  upon  which  the  Negroes,  by  order  of  the  police,  or  at  the  re- 
quest of  the  masters,  are  flogged ;  that  the  machine  consists  of  a  sort 
m  crane,  on  which  a  cord  with  two  nooses  runs  over  pulleys ;  the 
nooses  are  made  fast  to  the  hands  of  the  slave  and  drawn  up,  while  the 
feet  are  bound  tight  to  a  plank ;  that  the  body  is  stretched  out  as  much 
as  possible,  and  thus  the  miserable  creature  receives  the  exact  num- 
ber of  lashes  as  counted  off." — The  public  sale  of  slaves  in  the  market- 
place at  Charleston  occurs  frequently.  I  was  present  at  two  sales 
where,  especially  at  one  of  them,  the  miserable  creatures  were  in  tears 
on  account  of  their  being  separated  from  their  relations  and  friends. 
At  one  of  them,  a  young  woman  of  sixteen  or  seventeen  was  separated 
from  her  father  and  mother,  and  all  her  relations,  and  every  one  she  had 
formerlv  known.  This  not  unfrequently  happens,  although  I  was  told 
and  bebeve  that  there  is  a  general  wish  to  keep  relations  together  where 
it  can  be  done. 

*  The  following  extract  of  a  letter  from  a  gentleman  at  Charleston, 
to  a  friend  of  his  at  New  York,  published  in  the  New  York  news- 
papers while  I  was  there,  contains  even  a  more  shocking  account  of 
the  public  sale  of  slaves  here  :-— ''  Curiosity  sometimes  leads  me  to  the 
auction  sales  of  the  Negroes.  A  few  days  since  I  attended  one  which 
exhibited  the  beauties  of  slavery  in  all  their  sickening  deformity.  The 
bodies  of  these  wretched  beings  were  placed  upright  on  a  table, — their 
j^ysical  proportions  examined, — their  defects  and  beauties  noted.  '  A 
prime  lot,  here  they  go ! '  There  I  saw  the  father  looking  with  sullen 
contempt  on  the  crowd,  and  expressing  an  indignation  in  his  counte- 
nance that  he  dare  not  speak  ; — and  the  mother,  pressing  her  infEuits 
closer  to  her  bosom  with  an  involuntary  grasp,  and  exclaiming,  in 
wild  and  simple  earnestness,  while  the  tears  chased  down  her  cheeks 
in  quick  succession,  '  I  can't  lefF  my  children  !  I  won't  leff  my  child- 
ren ! '  But  on  the  hammer  went,  reckless  alike  whether  it  united  or 
sundered  for  ever.  On  another  stand  I  saw  a  man  apparently  as 
white  as  myself  exposed  for  sale.  I  turned  away  from  the  humiliating 
spectacle. 

'  "At  another  time,  I  saw  the  concluding  scene  of  this  infernal  drama. 
It  was  on  the  wharf.  A  slave  ship  for  New  Orleans  was  lying  in  the 
stream,  and  the  poor  Negroes,  handcuffed,  and  pinioned,  were  hurried 
off  in  boats,  eight  at  a  time.  Here  I  witnessed  the  last  farewell, — 
the  heart-rending  separation  of  every  earthly  tie.     The  mute  and 

Jnizing  embrace  of  the  husband  and  wife,  and  the  convulsive  grasp 
the  mother  and  the  child,  who  were  alike  torn  asunder — for  ever ! 
It  was  a  living  death, — they  never  see  or  hear  of  each  other  more. 
Tears  flowed  fast,  and  mine  with  the  rest." 

'  Charleston  has  long  been  celebrated  for  the  severity  of  its  laws 
against  the  blacks,  and  the  mildness  of  its  punishments  towards  the 
whites  for  maltreating  them.  Until  the  late  law,  there  were  about 
seventy-one  crimes  for  which  slaves  were  capitally  punished,  and  for 


264  United  States  of 

which  the  highest  punishment  for  whites  was  imprisoament  in  ths 
penitentiary. 

'  A  dreadful  case  of  murder  occurred  at  Charleston  in  1806.  A 
planter,  called  John  Slater^  made  an  unoffending,  unresisting^  slare, 
be  bound  hand  and  foot,  and  compelled  his  companion  to  chop  off  hit 
head  with  an  axe,  and  to  cast  his  bodvy  convulsine  with  the  agonies  of 
death,  into  the  water.  Judge  Wild,  who  tried  him,  on  awarding  a 
sentence  of  imprisonment  against  this  wretch,  expressed  his  regret 
that  the  punishment  provided  for  the  offence  ^vas  insufficient  to  make 
the  law  respected, — that  the  delinquent  too  well  knew  that  the  ana 
which  he  had  stretched  out  for  the  destruction  of  his  slave  was  that 
to  which  he  alone  could  look  for  protection,  disarmed  as  he  was  of 
the  right  of  self-defence. 

'  But  the  most  horrible  butchery  of  slaves  which  has  ever  takes 
place  in  America,  was  the  execution  of  thirty-five  of  them  on  the  lines 
near  Charleston,  in  the  month  of  Julv  1822,  on  account  of  an  alleged 
conspiracy  against  their  masters.  The  whole  proceedings  are  mm^ 
strous.  sixty-seven  persons  were  convicted  befx>re  a  court,  oonsistiiw 
of  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and  freeholders,  without  a  jury.  The  evi£ 
ence  of  slaves  not  upon  oath  was  admitted  against  them,  and,  after  all, 
the  proof  was  extremely  scanty.  Perrault,  a  slave,  who  had  himself 
been  brought  from  Africa,  was  the  chief  witness.  He  had  been  toni 
from  his  mther,  who  was  very  wealthy,  and  a  considerable  trader  in 
tobacco  and  salt  on  the  coast  of  Africa.  He  was  taken  prisoner,  and 
was  sold,  and  his  purchaser  would  not  give  him  up,  although  three 
slaves  were  offerca  in  his  stead.  The  judge's  address,  on  pronoondng 
sentence  of  death  on  this  occasion,  on  persons  sold  to  slavery  and  ser- 
vitude, and  who,  if  they  were  guilty,  were  only  endeavouring  to  get 
rid  of  it  in  the  only  way  in  their  power,  seems  monstrous,  lie  told 
them  that  the  servant  who  was  false  to  his  master  would  be  fidse  to 
his  God, — that  the  precept  of  St.  Paul  was,  '  to  obey  thdr  masters  in 
all  things,'  and  of  St.  Peter,  '  to  be  subject  to  their  masters  with  all 
fear,' — and  that,  had  they  listened  to  such  doctrines,  they  wonld  not 
have  been  arrested  by  an  ignominious  death.'     Vol.  II.  pp.  I4I-~147. 

The  following  are  specimens  of  American  legislation  in  the 
state  of  Georgia. 

'  In  case  any  slave  or  free  person  of  colour  teach  any  other  slave  or 
free  person  of  colour  to  read  or  to  write  cither  written  or  printed  cha- 
racters, the  free  person  of  colour  or  slave  is  punished  by  fine  or  whip- 
ping ;  and  a  white  person  so  offending  is  punished  witn  a  fine  not  ex- 
ceeding 500  dollars,  and  imprisonment  m  the  common  gaoL  Any 
slave  or  free  person  of  colour,  or  ani^  other  perwn,  circulating  papery 
or  bringing  into  this  State,  or  aiding  in  any  manner  in  bringing  into 
the  State,  papers  exciting  to  insurrection,  conspiracy,  or  resistance, 
any  of  the  slaves  or  free  persons  of  colour,  against  their  owners  or  the 
citizens,  is  to  be  punished  with  death. 

'  Cutting  off  the  ears,  and  the  pillory,  arc  punishments  for  slaves 
sanctioned  liy  the  lesislaturc  of  Greorgia ;  but  the  universal  punish- 
ment is  whipping.    The  infliction  of  this  punishment,  to  the  extent 


United  States  of  America.  265 

«if  tWent J  lashes  (in  the  bare  back^  is  deemed^  in  a  great  variety  of 
cases,  of  insufficient  moment  to  claim  the  intervention  even  of  a  single 
magistrate.  Any  white  person,  a  drunken  patrole>  an  absconding  felon, 
or  a  vagabond  mendicant,  is  supposed  to  possess  discretion  enough  to 
interpret  the  laws,  and  to  wield  the  cow-skin  or  cart-whip  for  their 
infraction ;  and  ^ould  death  ensue  by  accident,  while  the  slave  is 
thus  receiving  moderate  correction,  the  Constitution  of  Georgia  kindly 
denominates  the  offence  justifiable  homicide.*     Vol.  II.  pp.  163,  164. 

At  New  Orleans,  during  Mr.  Stuarlr's  residence  there,  about 
1000  slaves  were  exposed  to  sale.  Of  the  Blaek  laws  of  Loui»- 
iaxia,  the  following  are  specimens. 

'The  State  Legislature,'  says  Mr.  Stuart,  'have  now,  on  the 
16th  and  i7th  days  of  March  (1830),  passed  two  Acts,  not  many 
days  before  I  reached  New  Orleans,  containing  [most  objectionable 
provisions.  The  first  Act  provides :  — *'  I.  That  whosoever  shall  write, 
print,  publish,  or  distribute  any  thing  having  a  tendency  to  create  dift- 
oontent  among  the  free  coloured  population  of  this  State,  or  insubop- 
dination  among  the  slaves  therein,  shall,  at  the  discretion  of  the  Court, 
snfiTer  death,  or  imprisonment  at  hard  labour  for  life. — 2.  That  who- 
soever shall  use  language  in  any  public  discourse,  firom  the  bar,  the 
bench,  the  stage,  the  pulpit,  or  in  any  place,  or  in  private  discourse  or 
conversation,  or  shall  make  use  of  signs  or  actions  having  a  tendency 
to  produce  discontent  among  the  free  coloured  population  in  this  State;, 
or  to  excite  insubordination  among  the  slaves  tnerein,  or  whoever  shall 
knowingly  be  instrumental  in  bringing  into  this  State  any  paper, 
pamphlet,  or  book,  having  such  tendency  as  aforesaid,  shall,  at  the  dis- 
cretion of  the  Court,  suffer  at  hard  labour  not  less  than  three  years, 
nor  more  than  twenty  years,  or  death. — 3.  That  all  persons  who  shall 
teach,  or  permit  or  cause  to  be  taught,  any  slave  in  this  State  to  read 
or  write,  shall  be  imprisoned  not  less  than  one  nor  more  than  twelve 
months." 

'  The  second  Act  provides  1.  for  the  expulsion  from  the  State  of  all 
free  people  of  colour  who  came  into  it  subsequently  to  the  year  1807 ; 
and  then  confirms  a  former  law  prohibiting  all  free  persons  of  colour 
whatever  from  entering  the  state  of  Louisiana.  2a.  It  sentences  to 
imprisonment  or  hard  labour  for  life,  all  free  persons  of  colour,  who, 
having  come  into  the  State,  disobey  an  order  for  their  departure. 
dd.  It  enacts,  that  if  any  white  person  shall  be  convicted  of  being  the 
author,  printer,  or  publisher  of  any  written  or  printed  paper  within  the 
State,  or  shall  use  any  language  with  the  intent  to  disturb  the  peace 
or  security  of  the  same,  in  relation  to  the  slaves  or  the  people  ot  this 
State,  or  to  diminish  that  respect  which  is  commanded  to  free  people  of 
coUmrfor  the  whites ;  such  person  shall  be  fined  in  a  sum  not  less 
than  300  dollars,  nor  exceeding  1000  dollars,  and  imprisoned  for  a 
term  not  less  than  six  months,  nor  exceeding  three  years :  and  that 
if  any  free  person  of  colour  shall  be  convicted  of  such  offence,  he  shall 
be  sentenced  to  pay  a  fine  not  exceeding  1000  dollars,  and  imprisoned 
at  hard  labour  for  a  time  not  less  than  three  years  and  not  exceeding 
^\%  years,  and  afterwards  banished  for  life. 


266  United  Statet  of  America. 

'  And  4th^  It  enacts,  that  in  all  caiet  it  shall  be  the  dntjr  of  Ae 
attomey-eeneral  and  the  several  district  attonues,  umder  the  pemo^  tf 
removal fiom  office,  to  prosecute  the  said  free  peraona  of  coloiir  it 
violations  of  the  act,  or,  whenever  they  shall  be  required  to  proaeaU 
the  said  free  persons  of  colour  by  any  citizen  of  this  siaie, 

'  These  acts  are  sip:ned  by^  Mr.  Roman*  speaker  of  the  House  of 
Representatives ;  by  Mr.  Smith,  president  of  the  Senate  ;  and  by  Mr. 
Dupre,  governor  of  the  State  of  Louisiana,  all  in  Mardi,  1832. 

'Nothing  can  be  more  clear  than  that  neither  the  liberty  oi  the  praSi 
nor  the  liberty  of  speech,  exist  in  a  state  or  country  where  audi  kwi 
are  to  be  found  on  the  statute-book.  The  following  occurrence  pnfo^ 
pretty  convincingly,  the  truth  of  this  observation.  It  took  puoe  m 
one  of  the  last  days  of  March,  while  I  was  at  New  Orleans : — A  skff 
was  hung  there  for  some  trifling  offence,  but  none  of  the  newapapcn 
took  the  slightest  notice  of  the  execution ;  the  editors  being  natunDf 
afraid  that  their  doing  so  might  be  construed  into  an  oiienee  agunt 
the  laws  passed  only  a  few  days  previously.  I  only  aoddeatdy 
heard  of  the  execution  some  days  after  it  happened,  and  was  told  then 
were  not  thirty  persons  present  at  it. 

'  What  makes  the  severity  of  those  laws  even  more  galling  is,  thit 
their  retrospective  effect  forces  into  banishment  many  dtisena  of  Nev 
Orleans, — A-ee  men  of  colour, — who  were  among  the  most  conspieiiODi 
defenders  of  the  state  during  the  invasion  of  the  British  in  1814. 

'  The  enactment  asainst  writings  was  intended  to  be  enfimed 
against  the  only  liberal  paper  at  New  Orleans,  "  Le  Liberal,**  whidi 
occasionally  inserted  articles  favourable  to  the  black  population.' 

VoL  II.  pp.  24S-^. 

In  ^  the  despotic  States  of  the  Union,^  the  liberty  of  the  pie« 
has  no  existence.  It  is,  at  least,  denied  altogether  to  the  colmiTed 
population,  and  ^  in   a  very  considerable  degree  to   the  white 

*  population  \*  which  comes  as  near  to  its  non-existence  as  posaibl^ 
The  publication  of  newspapers  in  those  States,  is,  consequently, 

*  not  a  thriving,^  nor  a  very  safe  speculation.     The  Americans  of 
the  slave-holding  States,  Mr.  Stuart  says, 

'  Conceive  that  the  increasing  numbers  of  their  slaves  require  moie 
coercive  laws  and  greater  severity  of  treatment ;  and  are  proceeding  sa 
this  principle,  every  year  increasing  the  hardships  of  their  almost  ia* 
tolerable  situation,  and  adding  new  fetters  to  those  which  are  alissdy 
too  heavy  for  them  to  wear.'     Vol.  II.  p.  251. 

The  treatment  of  the  free  coloured  persons  is  governed  by  the 
same  base  and  pusillanimous  policy.     By  an  act  passed  a  fev 

! rears  ago  by  the  State  of  S.  Carolina,  no  free  person  of  colour 
eaving  the  State,  though  merely  crossing  its  boundary,  is  allowed 
to  return ;  and  the  same  law  declares  it  unlawful  for  nee  persons 
of  colour  to  come  from  another  State  into  Carolina.  It  is  now 
contrary  to  lawj  in  this  State,  that  even  free  persona  of  eobur 
should  be  educated ;  they  are  incompetent  witnesses  in  any  case 
where  the  rights  of  white  persons  are  concerned ;  and  th«r  trials 


United  States  of  America,  2fi7 

are  conducted  by  a  justice  of  the  peace  and  the  freeholders, 
without  the  benefit  of  a  jury  !  A  recent  law  imposes  a  tax  of  100 
dollars  on  any  free  person  of  colour  coming  to  Savannah  in 
Georgia,  however  urgent  his  business. 

'  Can  there  be/  exclaims  ISIr.  Stuart>  '  a  more  atrocious  violation  of 
the  principles  of  liberty^  than  is  contained  in  such  a  regulation  as  this, 
which  may  render  it  iuipossible  for  a  free  man  even  to  visit  his  futher 
or  mother  at  the  point  of  death  ?  But  the  prohibition  is  positive  iu 
Louisiana  and  South  Carolina?'    Vol.  II.  p.  155. 

These  are  the  States,  our  readers  will  recollect,  which,  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  Achilles  Murat,  are  so  advantageously  distinguished 
from  the  Northern,  by  the   *  frankness,  generosity,  hospitality,' 

*  liberality  of  opinion,**  ^  unequalled  combination  of  talents,^  and 
^  finish  and  elegance  of  manners,^  which  characterize  the  white  in- 
habitants. And  '  the  leading  State  ^  of  the  South  is  the  one  which 
at  the  present  moment  is  setting  at  defiance  the  Federal  Govem- 
inent.''  Of  this  State,  it  is  remarked  in  the  Number  of  the  North 
American  Review  now  before  us,  that  *  however  distinguished, 
'  in  other  times,  for  intelligence,  patriotism,  and  generosity,  it  is 

*  physically  and  politically  one  of  the  least  effective  in  the  IJnion. 

*  With  a  white  population  of  less  than  250,000  souls,  of  whom  at 

*  least  a  third  are  opposed  to  the  project ;  with  a  dangerous  in- 

*  ternal  enemy  in  her  bosom ; — unsupported  by  the  co  operation 

*  of  any  other  State  *,  her  nearest  neighbours  being  among  the 

*  most  determined  opponents  of  her  views; —  it  is  apparent  that 

*  Carolina  takes  the  field  against  the  Union  under  every  dis- 

*  advantage.**  The  result  of  a  civil  war  to  such  a  State,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  anticipate.  Fearful  would  be  the  punishment  which 
it  would  entail  on  the  haughty  oppressor,  without,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  benefiting  the  slave-  The  Carolinians  are,  however,  living 
on  the  very  crust  of  a  volcano,  and  the  day  of  vengeance  must' 
come. 

With  regard  to  the  impending  conflict,  we  will  not  venture  to 
offer  either  prediction  or  speculation  of  our  own ;  but  shall 
conclude  with  extracting  from  an  eloquent  article  on  Nulliji^ 
catian^  in  the  Number  of  the  North  American  Review  which 
now  lies  before  us,  the  following  reflections  upon  the  present 
crisis  of  the  Federal  Union ;  reserving  all  comment  for  another 
opportunity. 


*  This  remains  to  be  seen.     '  The  duration  and  results  of  this 
'  conflict/  it  is  subsequently  remarked^  '  will  depend  upon  the  degree  of 

*  countenance  which  Carolina  may  receive  from  other   States^   par- 
'  ticularly  at  the  South.     We  look  with  some  apprehension  to  the  pro- 

*  ceedings  of  Firginia,  where  the  first  movements  are  less  sati;»factory 
'  than  we  could  have  wished.' 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  1  I 


258  United  States  of  America. 

'  Still,  the  crisis^ •>  though  as  little  dangprous  as  any  one  of  the  sane 
description  that  could  well  be  imagined, — is  yet  one  of  fearful  import- 
ance, and  the  friends  of  the  country  cannot  but  look  forward  with  deep 
and  p«iinful  anxiety  to  its  termination.     The  question  of  the  contimi- 
nncc  of  our  present  form  of  Government, — of  the  existence  on  this  sfr* 
count  of  republican  institutions  of  any  description, — is  now  to  be  de- 
cided.    The  precise  problem^  as  we  understand  it>  is  not  whether  the 
Union  shall  be  preserved,  but  whether  the  Union  shall   be  presenrrd 
under  our  present  mild  and  beneficent  system  of  polity*  or  whether, 
after  a  temporary  dissolution  of  the  bonds  that  now  unite  us, — we  shall 
be  brought  together  again  into  a  new  body  politic,  consolidated  by  the 
iron  bands  of  military  power.     That  the  States  composing  this  Unioa 
can  ever  remain  for  any  length  of  time  politically  separate  from  each 
(»ther,  is  in  the  nature  of  things  impossible.     The  experiment  was  tried 
in  the  short  interval  between  the  Declaration  of  Independence  and  the 
adoption  of  the  Constitution,  and  was  found  impracticable.     If  re- 
peated, under  whatever  circumstances,  the  result  would  be  the  same. 
We  have  shown  in  a  preceding  part  of  this  article  that*  by  the  present 
Constitution,  the  States  formed  themselves  into  one  body  politic  under 
a  common  Government,  and  that  they  are  now,  in  form,  one  people- 
If  the  Constitution  were  in  this  respect  a  false  representation  w  their 
actual  and  substantial  political  condition; — if  they  were  really  se* 
parated  from  each  other  by  important  substantial  difTerenoes,  whether 
of  geographical  position,  origin,  language,  physical  conformation,  or  sny 
others,  there  would  then  be  a  constant  tendency  to  a  dissolution  of  the 
Union ;  and  separation,  being  the  natural  state  of  the  parties,  would 
probably,  ^hen  it  had  once  taken  effect,  become  the  permanent  one. 
Thus  the  attempt  of  the  British  Government  to  combine  their  Eu- 
ropean possessions  and  the  colonies  now  composing  the  United  States 
under  one  system  of  civil  polity,  was  obviously  at  variance  with  the 
law  of  nature,  and  could  only  terminate  sooner  or  later  in  the  way  in 
which  it  did.     The  same  may  be  said  of  their  present  attempt  to  com- 
bine under  the  same  political  system  with  their  European  poasenifmi, 
the  northern  part  of  this  continent, — the  vast  peninsula  of  Hindostsn 
with   its  hundred  million  inhabitants, — the  southern  termination  of 
Africa,  and  half  the  islands  on  the  face  of  the  globe,— including  the 
Australian  Continent,  with   its  dependencies,  which,  of  themselves, 
may  be  said  to  constitute  another  new   world.     All  these  scattered 
limbs, — membra  disjecta, — of  the  mighty  Queen  of  the  Ocean,— are 
destined  to  fall  off  succcvssively  from  the  parent  body,  and  fivm  them- 
selves into  independent  States.     With  the  members  of  this  Union,  the 
case  is  different.     Descended  from  the  same  original  stock ;  united  by 
community  of  language,  literature,  manners,  laws,  religion,  and  go- 
vernment ;  enclosed,  notwithstanding  the  vast  extent  of  their  territory. 


present  flourishing  and  gh 
mily  ; — bound  together  by  the  million  various  indissoluble  ties  of  per- 
sonal relationship,  that  have  been  created  by  a  ctmstaut  intercourse  of 
more  than  two  centuries,— the  States  composing  this  Union  not  only 
are,  according  to  the  form  of  the  Constitution,  but  they  are,  in  fact  an^ 


United  States  of  America.  259 

in  feeling,  (me  people.  They  were  united^  before  they  framed  the  Con- 
stitution, by  the  high  and  paraniount  decree  of  the  great  Lawgiver  of 
the  universe :  and  whom  God  hath  joined,  man  cannot  put  asunder. 
It  is  not  enough  to  say,  that  the  Union  ought  not  to  be  dissolved, — 
that  the  States  have  no  right  to  dissolve  it, — that  it  is  better  that  it 
should  not  be  dissolved  : — the  truth  is,  that  it  cannot  permanently  be 
dissolved.  Its  members  cannot  exist  for  any  length  of  time  in  a  state 
of  separation  from  each  other.  The  present  form  of  Union  may, — 
should  Providence  intend  to  visit  us  with  his  severest  judgements, — 
be  temporarily  broken  up.  What  would  be  the  consequence  ?  The 
very  act  of  its  destruction  would  in  all  probability  be  attended  by  a 
development  of  military  power  and  a  series  of  military  movements, 
which  would  end  in  the  recombination  of  the  States  into  another  Union, 
tinder  a  military  Government.  Should  we  even  suppose, — what-  is 
next  to  impossible, — a  peaceful  temporary  separation,  what  would  still 
be  the  consequence?  The  continual  relations  between  twenty-four 
neighbouring  States  of  kindred  origin  and  civilization,  would  neces- 
sarily lead  to  collisions,  which  would  grow  into  wars,  and  these  would 
continue  until  conquest  had  again  consolidated  the  whole  country  into 
a  new  Union,  not  as  at  present,  under  the  quiet  reign  of  constitutional 
liberty,  but  under  the  sway,  in  some  of  its  various  forms,  of  a  lawless 
and  sanguinary  despotism. 

'  The  necessity  of  these  results  is  apparent  on  the  slightest  reflec- 
tion, and  is  confirmed  by  the  examples  of  all  the  nations  of  which  we 
know  the  history.     To  look  only  to  the  mother  country  : — a  thousand 
years  ago,   the  British  islands  were  occupied  by  hundreds  of  inde- 
pendent communities,  essentially  different  in  their  origin,  languages, 
manners,  laws,  every  thing  that  constitutes  civilization.     Continued 
wars  gradually  brought  them  under  common  Governments^  until,  at 
the  close  of  the  last  century,  the  union  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland 
finally  completed  the  consolidation  of  the  whole  into  one  political  body. 
So  it  has  been  in  France,  in  Holland,  in  Spain,  in  Germany,  in  Italy, 
in  Russia.     So  it  has  been  in  ancient  times  and   other  regions; — in 
Egypt,  China,  Greece,  Home.     So  it  has  always  been  and  always  must 
be  every  where.    The  European  nations  have  all  arrived,  through  cen- 
turies of  carnage  and  confusion,  at  their  present  condition  ;  they  are 
still  tending  violently  to  a  more  complete  union,  which,  after  other 
centuries  of  carnage  and  confusion,  they  will  ultimately  reach.     It  has 
been  our  blessed  fortune  to  begin  where  they  have  ended,  or  are  likely 
to  end ;  to  grow  up  from  the  hour  of  our  political  birth,  in  those  happy 
bonds  of  fraternal  kindness,  which  have  been  forced  upon  all  other 
great  nations  by  a  long  experience  of  the  sorest  evils.     If,  in  an  hour 
of  wild  delusion, — of  mad  insensibility  to  the  causes  of  our  present 
prosperity, — of  criminal    ingratitude  to  the  Giver  of  all  good, — we 
should  burst  these  flowery  fetters,  the  only  possible  result  would  be, 
that  after  a  period,  more  or  less  protracted,  of  that  confusion  and  carn- 
age which  we  have  thus  far  escaped,  we  should  exchange  them  for  the 
chains,  that  are  now  clanking  round  the  limbs  of  every  other  people 
on  the  globe,  and  from  which  the  enlightened  and  civilized  nations  of 
Europe  are  at  this  moment  straining  in  agony  to  set  themselves  free.' 

pp.  268-271. 
1  I  2 


(    260    ) 

Art.  VI.  Elijah,  By  the  Author  of  "  Balaam  "  and  **  Modern 
Fanaticism  unveiled."  J  2mo.  pp.  xii.  235.  Price  5 j.  Lioudun, 
1833. 

"jV/f  R.  IRVING,  the  tongues,  and  the  miracles,  are  no  longer 
the  common  topics  of  conversation.  The  popular  belief  in 
them,  being  unsupported  either  by  fact  or  by  principle,  or  indeed 
by  any  thing  but  the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment,  was  not  likely  to 
be  of  long  duration ;  and  there  seems  no  longer  reason  to  appre- 
hend much  from  that  quarter,  unless  the  same  spirit  of  wild  spe- 
culation should  adopt  a  more  fascinating  and  a  more  dangerous 
form.  Perhaps  the  chief  ground  for  fear  is,  that  those  who  have 
found  themselves  deceived  and  misled,  will  be  apt  to  fall  into  the 
other  extreme,  and  that  enthusiasm  will  give  place  to  scepticisni. 
The  followers  of  Mr.  Irving  have  been  too  decidedly  a  class  by 
themselves,  to  have  brought  much  scandal  upon  the  religious  world 
generally.  Their  numbers  do  not  appear  to  be  on  the  increase. 
Some  we  believe  have  returned  to  the  good  old  paths ;  others  we 
know  to  be  so  holy,  so  devoted,  so  prayerful,  so  anxious  to  know 
and  do  the  will  of  their  Heavenly  Father,  that  we  cannot  think 
that  they  will  be  suffered  to  continue  under  so  gross  delusion. 
We  could  wish  that  their  case  excited  more  sympathy  among 
their  fellow  Christians, — that  our  dissenting  friends  would  re- 
member them  in  their  intercessory  supplications,  and  that  our 
friends  in  the  Establishment  would  think  of  them  when  they  re- 
peat the  petition,  '  That  it  may  please  thee  to  bring  into  the  way 
^  of  truth  all  such  as  have  erred  or  are  deceived ;  to  comfort  and 
^  help  the  weak  hearted ;  to  raise  up  them  that  fall ;  and,  finally, 
*  to  beat  down  Satan  under  our  feet.'' 

We  have  said  thus  much,  because  it  is  to  such  individuals  that 
the  Author  of  the  work  before  us  principally  alludes,  though  they 
are  not  specifically  named.  The  object  of  the  volume  is  excel* 
lent,  and  not  less  so  the  plan  by  which  the  Writer  proposes  to 
attain  it.  The  delineation  of  a  Scripture  character  can  be  unin- 
teresting to  no  reader  of  the  Scriptures :  it  can  rouse  no  angry 
feelings,  and  with  many  may  have  more  force  than  a  thousand 
arguments.  This  work  is  less  interwoven  with  the  controverual 
topics  of  the  day  than  the  two  preceding  ones  by  the  same  pen, 
and  is  therefore  likely,  perhaps,  to  be  more  permanently  and 
more  generally  useful. 

Yet,  it  is  not  without  faults.  The  first  part,  in  particular,  is 
rather  spun  out,  and  seems  to  partake  in  some  measure  of  the  sin 
of  book-making.  This  gives,  here  and  there,  a  weakness  to  the 
style,  which  is  peculiarly  unsuitable  to  the  forcible  character  of 
wnich  it  treats.  For  instance,  before  we  are  told  so  simple  a 
thing,  as  that  Ahab  informed  Jezebel  of  the  transactions  of  Mount 
Cannel,  we  have  a  long  preface,  beginning,  ^  Mankind  are  natu- 


Elijah.  261 

^  rally  communicative.  The  imparting  of  intelligence  and  the 
^  interchange  of  ideas,  rank  among  the  sweetest  and  highest  en- 

*  joyments  of  our  social  nature,**  &c.  &c.  The  Author  has  made 
various  little  additions  to  the  Scripture  account,  which  are  cer- 
tainly not  improvements ;  nor  does  he  ever  say,  '  We  may  ima- 
^  gine  so  and  so,**  but  positively  asserts  that  so  it  was.  Thus,  in 
describing  the  meeting  between  Elijah  and  the  widow  of  Zare- 

\    phath,  he  says : 

^        '  On  being  thus  accosted^  the  poor  woman  turned  aside^  for  a  mo- 

i    mentt  the  coarse  and  sable  veil  which  half  concealed  her  care-worn 

i:    face  and  figure ;  and  perceiving  from  the  physiognomy  of  the  person 

1    who  addressed  her,  and  from  his  dust-covered  sandals^  that  he  was  a 

Hebrew  and  on  a  journey^  the  kindness  of  her  heart  prompted  an  im- 

'     mediate  attention  to  his  request.     With  haste,  therefore,  she  let  fall 

from  her  sun-burnt  arms  the  scanty  supply  of  fuel  which  she  had  just 

gathered^  and  seizing  her  water  jug,  was  on  the  point  of  repairing  to  a 

neighbouring  well^  for  a  draught  of  water  to  slake  the  stranger's 

thirst.' 

This  is  more  fanciful  than  pleasing. 

Again  :  is  it  likely  that  Elijah  entered  into  a  long  dissertation 
on  the  doctrine  of  forgiveness  of  sins  through  the  promised 
Saviour,  while  the  son  of  the  widow  lay  dead  in  her  arms,  and 
she  was  distractedly  reproaching  the  prophet,  or  that  he  waited 
all  this  time  before  he  carried  the  child  to  his  chamber.  Yet 
this  is  implied,  if  not  actually  asserted,  in  the  account  before  us. 

Then,  at  ])age  101,  we  have  Obadiah  recognizing  '  the  well- 
^  known    countenance,    manly   air    and    negligent   costume    of 

*  Elijah  r  at  p.  112,  Elijah  speaking  to  Ahab  '  with  all  the 

*  energy  and  power  he  could  command,  and  looking  steadily  at 

*  the  king  with  an  expression  of  piercing  significance;'*  at  p. 
119,  Elijah  placing  'himself  on  a  stone,  or  nodular  elevation  ;** 
and  at  p.  138,  seating  '  himself  on  the  flowery  turf;**  &c.  &c.  &c. 
Such  artifices  of  expression  as  these  fail  of  effect,  because  obviously 
intended  for  effect;  while  they  offend  us  as  liberties,  scarcely 
comporting  with  the  dignity  of  Elijah's  character,  and  of  the 
sacredness  of  Scripture  history. 

The  account  of  the  assembly  on  Mount  Carmel  is  rather  tame. 
The  critical  remarks  are  interesting,  and  the  topographical  de- 
scriptions are  so  vivid  that  one  can  scarcely  help  fancying  that 
the  Writer  must  have  seen  the  places  to  which  he  refers.  But  the 
majesty  of  the  Scripture  record  resents  all  embellishment :  nothing 
can  improve  it.  As  a  pleasing  specimen  of  the  Writer's  talent  for 
illustration,  we  shall  select  the  following  extract.  After  speaking 
of  the  prophet's  feelings  of  disappointment  and  exhaustion,  when 
fleeing  from  the  rage  of  Jezebel,  the  Writer  continues : 

<  In  this  fran^  of  mind^  Elijah  requested  for  himself,  that  he  might 


262  Elijah. 

die^  and  said,  '^  It  is  enough  ;  now,  O  Lord,  take  awav  my  life,  for  I 
am  not  better  than  my  fathers."  We  have  here  an  instance  of  the 
infirmity  of  the  man,  prevailing  over  the  faith  of  the  believer.  The 
ivords  unquestionably  contain  a  hasty  petition,  and  an  ungracious  com- 
plaint: yet  who  does  not  spontaneously  admit,  that  the  prophet's 
situation  and  conduct,  at  this  crisis,  have  a  much  stronger  claim  on 
our  sympathies  than  on  our  censures  ?  Perhaps  the  most  remarkable 
feature  in  this  disconsolate  address,  is  the  degree  of  querulousness  prt^ 
duced  in  the  mind  of  Elijah,  by  the  disturbance  of  his  latent  seJf- 
satisfaction.  This  is  obvious  in  the  concluding  expression,  "  I  am  not 
better  than  my  fathers;"  a  conviction  often  forced  in  upon  an  en- 
lightened and  ingenuous  mind  ;  but  painful  alike,  though  on  different 
grounds,  to  the  man  who  legitimately  aspires  after  eminence,  and  to 
him  who  fancies  that  he  has  already  attained  to  comparative  su- 
periority* Such  distinguished  honours  as  had  lately  been  conferred 
upon  £lijah,  were  likely  to  feed  the  native  self-importance  of  the 
human  heart ;  but  small  as  was  the  injury  which  his  humility  sus- 
tained, by  these  temptations  to  rise  in  his  own  esteem,  it  is  probable 
that  he  would  have  been  quite  unconscious  of  the  incipient  mischief, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  singular  reverse  which  brought  him  low,  and 
wrung  from  his  afflicted  bosom,  the  expression  of  its  most  secret  and 
unsuspected  emotions.  It  is  thus  that  our  all-wise  and  beneficeDt 
Father  in  heaven,  carries  on  the  divine  education  and  discipline  uf  his 
children ;  now  affording  them  a  system  of  means  the  most  palatable 
and  enlivening,  and  anon  dealing  with  them  in  such  a  method,  as  to 
humble  them,  to  prove  them,  and  to  know  (or  make  manifest)  what  is 
in  their  hearts."     pp.  155 — 157* 

After  describing  the  journey  to  Mount  Horeb,  the  Writer 
proceeds : 

'  Elijah  had  now  reached  his  destination.  Horeb,  *'  the  mount  of 
God,"  was  his  desired  resting  place ;  if  not  by  anticination^  his  last 
earthly  home  ;  "  and  he  came  thither  unto  a  cave  and  lodged  there," 
The  aspirings  of  his  zeal  had  l>een  checked,  and  its  ardour  sublimated. 
He  had  learned  to  cease  from  man,  to  feel  his  own  impotence  and  in- 
firmity, and  to  resign  the  cause  of  God  and  the  interests  of  Israel  into 
the  hands  of  Him,  **  without  whom  nothing  is  strong,  nothing  is  holy." 
His  own  purposes  had  been  broken  off,  even  the  thoughts  of  his  heart; 
but  if  his  heavenly  Father  saw  it  good  to  withdraw  him  from  a  public, 
active  life,  and  to  appoint  him  a  sequestered  dwelling  in  the  wilderness 
-»what  was  he  that  he  should  presume  to  object  ?  His  daily  manual 
taught  him  to  say,  '*  My  times  are  in  thy  hands;"  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  wrought  in  his  soul  that  grace  which  instructed  him  to  be  still, 
and  to  comfort  himself  with  the  assurance,  that  however  great  and 
long-continued  might  be  his  personal  privations,  there  would  ultimately 
be  to  the  church,  a  fulfilment  of  that  which  was  spoken  to  David  in  a 
prophetic  vision,  "  Yet  have  I  set  my  king  upon  my  holy  hill  of 
Zion." 

'  It  is  obvious,  however,  that  Elijah's  submission  to  the  Divine  will 
was  not  without  alloy.    There  was  blended  with  it  a  species  of  apathy, 


Navigation  of  the  Euphrates.  263 

quite  contrary  to  the  natural  element  of  his  soul.  The  phantom  of 
future  eminence  no  longer  flitted  before  his  fancy ;  and  when  that  was 
dissipated,  the  very  idea  of  a  possibility  of  future  usefulness  vanished 
also.  This  ought  not  to  have  been ;  and  it  was  to  rouse  him  from  that 
growing  recklessness  of  spirit,  and  to  prepare  him  to  receive  some  im- 
portant symbolical  instructions,  that  "  the  word  of  the  Lord  came  to 
him^    ana    he    said    unto    him.   What    doest    thou    here,   Elijah?' 

pp.  166,  7- 

A  great  deal  of  what  follows  is  extremely  interesting.  Indeed, 
we  think  the  latter  part  of  the  book  decidedly  superior  to  the 
former:  it  is  more  simple  and  more  animated.  The  spirit 
that  pervades  the  work  is  admirable.  We  do  not  know  how  long 
the  Writer  intends  to  maintain  his  or  her  incognito.  Although 
we  have  heard  a  name  confidently  assigned  as  that  of  the  Author 
of  these  productions,  we  do  not  feel  ourselves  at  liberty  to  raise 
the  veil. 


Art.  VII. — ReporU  of  the  Navigation  of  the  Euphrates,  Submitted 
to  Government  by  Captain  Chesney,  of  the  Royal  Artillery.  Fo- 
lio, pp.  68.     Plates. 

"^^/^E  should  have  felt  scarcely  authorized  to  take  public  no- 
tice of  an  unpublished  Report,  had  not  certain  con- 
temporary journals  already  referred  to  Captain  Chesney's  highly 
interesting  papers.  The  feasibility  of  opening  the  Euphrates 
for  steam  navigation^  which  this  gentleman  has  satisfacto- 
rily established,  is  a  circumstance  replete  with  interest,  inde- 
pendently of  its  importance  in  connexion  with  an  overland  com- 
munication with  India.  This  venerable  river,  so  long  lost  to 
civilization,  and  scarcely  better  known  to  Europeans  than  the 
Niger  itself,  is  found  to  be  free  from  impediments  to  steam  navi- 
gation throughout  the  year,  up  to  El  Oos,  a  distance  of  900  miles, 
and  for  nine  months  of  the  year  is  without  any  serious  obstruc- 
tion as  high  up  as  Bir  (or  Beer),  only  twenty -five  hours  k.b.  of 
Aleppo. 

'  Anxious  to  use  some  means  to  restore  Aleppo  to  its  former  import- 
ance, Ali  Pacha,  now  at  Bagdad,  and  then  its  governor,  submitted  a 
plan  to  the  Sultan  some  ten  or  twelve  months  ago,  the  outline  of  which 
was  to  open  the  navigation  of  the  Euphrates  and  clear  out  Seleucia : 
both  were  countenanced  by  the  Porte,  and  something  was  about  to  be 
done,  when  the  Egyptian  business  put  all  on  one  side  for  the  present. 
Ali  Pacha,  who  is  a  liberal  and  enlightened  Turk,  fond  of  Europeans 
and  their  customs,  knew,  that  so  late  as  the  time  of  Saladdin,  the  port 
of  Bir  contained  300  or  400  small  vessels,  and  without  any  further 
knowledge  of  the  state  of  the  river,  he  built  on  this  circumstance 
alone  the  hope>  that  by  restoring  the  ancient  port  of  Souedia>  he  would 


264  Navigation  of  the  Euphrates, 

attract  a  great,  commerce  to  Aleppo^  not  only  from  tbe  East  but  aho 
from  the  West.  The  engineer's  estimate  of  the  necessary  expense  in 
restoring  the  whole  of  Seleucia  was  5000  purses  of  500  piastres  eadi, 
or  abont  31^000/.;  bat  as  the  whole  space  could  not  be  required^  at 
least  for  many  years,  it  was  only  intended  to  clear  out  a  part  at  firsts 
expending  in  this  way  about  10,000/. :  and  as  the  officer  who  Earned 
those  estimates  is  botn  skilful  and  much  accustomed  to  carry  on  works 
in  Turkey,  it  is  more  than  probable  that  both  of  his  calculations  are 
very  close  to  the  truth  ;  nor  can  there  be  any  reasonable  doubt  as  to 
the  success,  if  ever  the  day  should  arrive  for  putting  them  to  tbe  test 
of  experience.  It  is  true  that  the  project  was  entertained  solely  vnth 
the  view  of  increasing  the  Sultan's  revenue ;  and  although  no  more 
enlightened  idea  is  entertained,  it  is  a  great  matter  to  know  that  the 
Porte,  even  from  selfish  motives,  would  be  induced  to  undertake  a  work 
likely  to  be  most  advantageous  to  the  commercial  world,  by  renmening 
a  port  sufficiently  capacious  to  accommodate  quite  a  fleet  of  moaerate- 
sized  merchant  vessels,  and  that,  at  the  short  distance  of  twenty-two 
or  twenty-four  caravan  hours  (through  Antioch)  to  Aleppo;  whidi 
project,  under  such  circumstances,  must  realize  more  than  all  the  pre- 
sent expectations  of  the  Porte.* 

Captain  Chesney  ascended  the  Euphrates  from  Bir  to  beyond 
Samsat ;  and  during  this  considerable  distance,  found  the  river, 
in  its  lowest  state,  deep,  broad,  and  free  from  impediments  for 
a  long  way  towards  IVIalatieh,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  country. 
Malatieh  (or  Malatea)  is  situated  on  the  Melas  (or  Kara-su), 
which  joins  the  Euphrates  on  its  right  bank  in  about  lat. 
38**  lO'  N.,  afibrding  an  inlet  into  the  interior  of  Asia  Minor. 

Another  line  of  route,  however,  has  been  suggested,  with  a 
view  to  facilitate  the  direct  communication  with  Bombay ;  viz.  by 
Rosetta,  Kennc,  Kosseir,  and  Aden.  Captain  Chesney  has  in- 
stituted a  very  minute  and  careful  comparison  between  the  two 
lines  of  navigation,  from  which  it  appears  that,  in  travelling  from 
Bombay  to  the  Mediterranean,  the  time  is  shorter,  by  Egypt, 
nine  hours  and  a  half,  although  the  distance  is  shorter,  by  the 
Euphrates,  I70  miles.  But,  from  the  Mediterranean  to  Bombay, 
the  time,  by  Egypt  and  the  Euphrates,  would  be  equal,  and  the 
distance  by  the  Persian  Gulf,  shorter  by  I70  miles. 

The  Report  is  full  of  interesting  matter,  which  we  have  not 
room  to  analyse.  Aware  that  either  route  can  serve  only  for  the 
conveyance  of  packets  or  light  goods.  Captain  Chesney  warmly 
advocates  the  revival  of  the  ancient  project  of  connecting  the 
Red  Sea  with  the  Mediterranean. 

'  Any  of  these  routes,  however,  which  may  be  adopted,  will  probably 
only  pave  the  way  to  the  realization  of  the  grand  idea,  so  long  in- 
dulged in  England,  and  other  parts  of  Europe,  of  connecting  the 
Mediterranean  with  the  Red  Sea ;  a  little  time  will  probably  remove 
the  ill-fbunded  apprehension^  of  increasing  the  height  of  the  former. 


Navigation  of  the  Euphrates.  265 

tyjr  the  influx  of  the  latter ;  iot,  whateyer  natural  causes  can  be  sup« 
poeed  to  exist>  likely  to  maintain  the  Red  Sea  at  a  higher  level,  can 
nardlj  lail  to  influence,  equally*  the  Mediterranean  at  the  distance  of 
little  more  than  one  degree.  The  land,  it  is  true,  shelves  gradually 
from  the  Red  Sea  to  the  western  shore  of  the  Isthmus,  at  a  mean  di£> 
£erenoe  of  eighteen  feet,  accordii^  to  the  French  engineers j  but  it  is 
Yerj  questionable  whether  the  sea  itself  is  really  higher,  communica- 
id^g  as  it  does  already,  with  the  Mediterranean,  round  Africa.  But 
iCfven  if  it  could  prove  so^  an  additional  inlet  will  no  more  izKsrease  the 
lidght  of  the  latter  sea,  than  do  the  unceasing,  and  infinitely  more  vo- 
huninous  ones,  pouring  in  from  the  Atknlac  on  one  side,  and  Black 
Sea  on  the  other ;  for  the  surplus  is,  and  equally  would  be,  disposed 
of  by  evaporation,  when  seemtnglif  greater,  because  the  influx  must  be 
imilated  by  the  quantity  of  water  exhaled ;  and,  I  apprehend,  cam 
neither  be  more  nor  less,  whether  supplied  through  one  or  eim  inlets  i 
^n  wliidi  principle,  the  Mediterranean,  (w^n  it  shall  communioate,) 
would  as  readily  eive  to,  as  receive  from,  t^e  Red  Sea ;  were  not  the 
tcmporatme  of  the  latter,  uid  its  exhalation,  lessened  by  the  oooi 
Borni  winds  prevailing  during  the  heat  of  the  year ;  for  wiuck  reami# 
only  a  noderate  current  may  be  expected  to  ran  into  the  Mediterra* 
neaa ;  and  it  is,  in  fact,  ratner  to  be  feared,  that  such  an  inlet  wvnld 
BoC  give  a  sufficient  body  of  water,  to  open  a  nobde  passage  for  riiiai 
ti  moderate  bnrthen,  than  that  any  prejudicial  increase  should  be  toe 
ocmsequence,  to  the  shores  of  the  Meoiterranean. 

'  As  to  the  executive  part,  there  is  but  one  opinion ;  there  are  no 
jerious  natural  diflibcidties,  not  a  single  mountain  intervenes,  scarcely 
what  deserves  to  be  called  a  hillock  ;  and  in  a  country  where  labour 
can  be  had  without  limit,  and  at  a  rate  infinitely  belew  that  of  any 
other  pait  of  the  world,  the  expense  would  be  a  moderate  one  for  a 
sinde  nation,  and  scarcely  worth  dividing  between  the  great  kingdoms 
of  Europe,  who  would  be  all  benefited  by  the  measure. 

'  W^e  the  Pacha  and  Sultan  to  consent  heartily,  the  former  could 
employ  500,000  Arabs  on  this  work,  as  he  did  on  the  Mahmoudieh  ca- 
nal ;  feeding  them  out  of  his  stores,  so  as  to  put  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  contracted  sum  into  his  pocket.  Mahomed  AH  is  nmd  of  necu- 
kitions,  and  this  would  be  a  grand  and  beoefidai  one  for  the  world,  as 
wdl  as  a  paying  one  f<Mr  his  eoffNrs.' 

The  greatest  credit  is  due  to  the  ingenious  and  active  officer,  to 
whose  enterprise  and  intrepidity  we  are  indebted  for  this  valuable 
addition  to  our  topographical  knowledge  of  the  most  interesting 
tegLOfi  of  the  East. 


VOL.  IX. — N.I.  K  X 


Navigation  of  the  Kupkrate*.  265 

>>f  the  influx  of  the  latter  ;  fi>r>  wbatevar  natural  causes  can  be  sup- 
P««i  to  eiist,  likely  to  maintain  the  Red  Sea  at  a  higher  level,  can 
hartly  fcil  to  Influence,  equally,  the  Mediterratieaii  at  the  distance  of 
mtle  more  than  one  degree.  The  land,  it  ib  true,  shelves  gradually 
from  the  Red  Sea  te  the  western  Bhore  af  the  IirtJimus,  at  a  mean  dif- 
ference of  eighteen  feet,  according  to  the  French  engineers;  but  it  is 
Wry  questionable  whether  the  sea  itaelf  is  really  higher,  communica- 
"^  "  j'  *'°«''  already,  with  the  Mediterranewi,  round  Africa.  But 
even  if  it  could  prove  so,  an  additional  inlet  will  no  more  increase  the 
Aeight  of  the  latter  sea,  than  do  the  unceasing,  and  iafinitely  nutre  vo- 
«wiinouB  ones,  pouring  in  from  the  Atlantu:  on  one  side,  and  Black 
^«  on  the  other  ;  for  the  suiplus  iu,  and  equally  would  be,  disposed 
«  by  evaporation,  when  seetmngly  greater,  because  the  influx  must  be 
'^k  I  ^  ^  quantity  of  water  exhaled  ;  and,  I  apprehend,  caa 
neither  be  mora  nor  leas,  wh«ther  supplied  through  one  or  tiw  inleta  i 
^^which  principle,  the  MeditLrranean,  (wfaen  it  shall  coniniumoate,) 
■"*•—'•'  as  readily  give  to,  as  n-oeive  from,  lie  Red  Sea :  were  not  the 
retute  of  the  latter,  and  its  exhalation,  leMenai  bjr  the  cool 
0  windt  prevailing  during  the  heat  of  Aie  year ;  far  trianA  itmwaa, 
a  ««!—.»  -.jrrent  may  be  expected  to  ran  iato  the  Mediteraa. 
n  fact,  rntlier  to  be  feat«d,  that  such  aa  inlet  w*nld 
.  Jut  body  of  water,  to  open  •  nnUe  paaaage  for  dipt 
rate  burthen,  than  thu*  anv  prqudicial  inoreaae  ahauhl  be  the 

"""  ►..  .v_  .L _«^.  diterranean. 

u  one  opinion  ;  there  are  no 

f      mountain  intervenes,  icarcely 

;  and  in  a  conntry  where  laboui 

.  f       infinitely  bel*w  that  of  any 

vould  be  ■  moderate  one  for  a 

luing  between  the  great  kingdoms 

ed  by  the  measure. 

cooaeut  heartily,  the  former  could 

as  he  did  on  tne  Mahmoudieh  ea- 

BO  as  to  put  nearly  the  whole  of 

Mahomed  All  ia  fend  of  mecu- 

ind  beneficial  one  for  the  worUj  m 


'e  to  the  ingenioua  mi  aCftTe  cfficer,  to 
{lii  Ity  we  are  indebted  for  this  valuable 
icH   knowledge  of  tlie  most  interetting 


(    266    ) 

Art.  VIII.    CORRESPONDENCE. 

TO  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  ECLECTIC  REVIEW. 

Sir, 
On  taking  up  the  Number  for  last  November,  the  other  day,  I  per- 
ceived that  the  Reviewer,  in  noticing  the  Winter's  Wreath,  observes, 
after  mentioning  a  Poem  'revoltinsly  opposed  in  its  sentiments  to 
the  declarations  of  Scripture,'  &c.,  'Yet,  m  this  same  volume,  we  find 
introduced  into  a  very  sad  and  melancholy  tale  by  Captain  Sherer,  the 
following  exquisite  hymn,  which,  if  not  a  gennine  antique,  is  a  very 
skilful  imitation  of  our  English  poets : 

' "  My  life's  a  shade," '  &c 

In  a  note  is  added :  '  As  we  cannot  suppose  the  transcriber  to  be  the 
author,  wc  wish  he  had  stated  how  he  came  by  the  hymn.' 

I  beg,  Sir,  to  say  how  he  mighi  have  come  by  the  hymn,  as  it  is  to 
be  found  in  a  book  before  me,  with  the  following  title :  '  The  Young 
Man's  Calling ;  or,  the  Whole  Duty  of  Youth.  In  a  serious  and 
compassionate  Address  to  all  young  persons  to  remember  their 
Creator  in  the  days  of  their  youth  ;  together  with  remarks  upon  the 
lives  of  several  excellent  young  persons  of  both  sexes,  as  well  ancient 
as  modem,  noble  and  others,  who  have  been  fietmous  for  piety  and 
virtue  in  their  generations.  With  twelve  curious  pictures,  illustrating 
the  several  histories.     Also, 

'  DIVINE  POEMS. 

( «(  Ulierewith  shall  a  young  man  cleanse  his  way  ?  by  taking  heed  thereto  ac- 
cording to  thy  word.**     Ps-  cxix.  9. 

'  Verecando  adolescente  quid  amabilius  ?     Ber, 

*  Imprimatur^  Tho.  Grigg,  R.P.D.  Episc  Lond.  a  Sac  Dom. 

'THE    NINTH    EDITION. 

^  London :  Printed  for  A.  Bettesworth,  by  C.  Hitch,  at  the  Red 
Lyon  in  Paternoster  Row ;  and  J.  Hodges,  at  the  Looking-Glass,  on 
London  Bridge.  1737-  Price  1*.  6rf.' 

I  had  marked  the  hymn,  ^  ]\Iy  life's  a  dream ',  with  one  or  two 
more,  from  '  The  Young  Man's  Divine  Meditations  ;  in  some  Sacred 
Poems  upon  Select  Subjects  and  Scriptures ',  for  a  small  collection  of 
devotional  poetrv>  or  fur  private  worship,  at  the  end  of  my  Appendix 
to  Dr.  Watts's  Psalms  and  Hymns. 

You  may  deem  the  following  worthy  insertion,  if  you  have  a  blank 
page  in  a  coming  Number. 

The  title  to  'My  life's  a  shade',  is,  'The  ResunectiMi/  from 
Job  xix.  29.  It  is  followed  by  '  Heaven  '.  But  I  will  first  give  a  pre- 
ceding one. 

» THE  PILGRIM'S  FAREWELL  TO  THE  WORLD. 

^  ^*  For  we  have  no  continuing  city,  but  we  seek  one  to  come.**    Heb.  xiiL  14. 

'  1.     Farewell,  poor  world,  I  must  be  gone : 
Thou  art  no  home,  no  rest  for  me. 
I  '11  take  my  stalf  and  travel  on, 
'Till  I  a  better  world  may  see. 


Correspondence.  267 

*2.    Why  art  thou  loth,  my  heart  ?  Oh  why 
Do'st  thus  recoil  within  my  breast  ? 
Grieve  not^  but  say  fieurewell,  and  fly 
Unto  the  ark,  my  dove  !  there*s  rest. 

*  3.     I  come^  my  Lord>  a  pilgrim's  pace; 

Weary,  and  weak,  I  slowly  move ; 

Longing,  but  yet  can't  reach  the  place. 

The  gladsome  place  of  rest  above. 

'4.     I  come,  my  Lord;  the  floods  here  rise; 

These  troubled  seas  foam  nought  but  mire ; 
My  dove  back  to  my  bosom  flies : 

Farewell,  poor  world,  heav'n  's  my  desire. 

*  5.     Stay,  stay,  said  Earth ;  whither,  fond  one  ? 

Here 's  a  fair  world,  what  would'st  thou  have  ? 
Fair  world  ?  Oh  !  no,  thy  beauty 's  gone. 
An  heav'nly  Canaan,  Lord,  I  crave. 

'  6.     Thus  ancient  travellers,  thus  they 
Weary  of  earth,  sigh'd  after  thee. 
They  're  gone  before,  I  may  not  stay, 
'Till  I  both  thee  and  them  may  see. 

'  7-     Fut  on,  my  soul,  put  on  with  speed ; 

Though  th'  way  be  long,  the  end  is  sweet. 
Once  more,  poor  world,  farewell  indeed ; 
In  leaving  thee,  my  Lord  I  meet. 


'  HEAVEN. 

*  ^'  When  shall  I  oome  and  appear  before  Ood  ?  *'    Ps.  zlii.  3. 

'FIBST   PART« 

'  I.    Sweet  place ;  sweet  place  alone  ! 
The  court  of  God  most  high. 
The  heav'n  of  heaven's  throne. 
Of  spotless  majesty ! 

Oh  happy  place ! 
When  shall  I  be 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 

'  2.    The  stranger  homeward  bends. 
And  flghteth  for  his  rest ; 
Heav'n  is  my  home;  mv  friends 
Lodge  there  in  Abraham's  breast. 

Oh  happy  place,  &c. 

K  K  2 


208  CbF)wpo#Mim<if. 

'3.    Earth '8  bnt  a  iDrry  ttnt, 

Pitoh'd  for  fl  few  frail  days  ; 
A  short-leased  tenflmant. 

Heav'n  'a  gtill  my  tonff,  my  praiaa* 

Oh  happy  place,  &c 

'  4.   No  tears  from  any  eyea 

Drop  in  that  holy  Qoiie ; 
But  Death  itself  there  die^ 
And  sighs  themselves  expire. 

Oh  happy  plao^  &c. 

'  5.    There  should  temptation  cease; 
My  frailties  there  should  end  ; 
There  should  I  rest  in  peace. 
In  the  anna  <vf  my  heat  Friend. 

Oh  happy  plac^  && 

aBCOND  FABT. 

'  1.   Jerusalem  on  high 

My  song  and  city  is : 
My  home  whene'er  I  die ; 
The  centre  of  my  bliss. 

Oh  happy  place,  &e. 

'  2.    Thy  walls^  sweet  city  I  thine 
With  pearls  arc  garnished ; 
Thy  gates  with  praises  shine. 
Thy  streets  with  gold  arc  spread. 

Oh  happy  place,  &c. 

'  3.    No  sun  by  day  shines  there : 
No  moon  by  silent  night. 
Oh,  no^  these  needless  are ; 
The  Lamb 's  the  City's  Light. 

Oh  happy  place,  &c. 

'  4.   There  dwells  my  Lord,  my  King, 
Judg'd  here  unfit  to  live ; 
There  angels  to  him  sing 
And  lovely^  homage  give. 

Oh  happy  place,  &c 

*  5.    The  patriarchs  of  old 

There  from  their  travels  cease : 
The  prophets  there  behold 

Their  long'd  for  Prince  of  Paace. 

Oh  happy  place,  &c. 

'  6.    The  Lamb's  apostles  there 
I  might  with  joy  behold  ; 
The  harpers  I  might  hear 
Harping  on  harps  of  eold. 

Oh  happy  place,  &c. 


Literary  InieUigence,  9Sfi 

'  7-   The  bleeding  martyrs  they 

Within  these  courts  are  found  ; 
Clothed  in  pure  array. 

Their  scars  with  glory  crown'd. 

Oh  happy  place>.  &e» 

'  8.   Ah  me !  ah  me !  that  I 

In  Kedar's  tents  here  stay : 
Noplace  like  this  on  high, 
Tnitdier,  Lord,  guicke  my  way. 

Ofa  happy  place,  &e.' 

T.  RUSSBLL. 

fValfvorth,  12/A  February,  1833. 


Art.  IX.     LITERARY  INTELLIGENCE. 

In  a  few  days,  with  Engravings,  Tables  of  the  Weight  of  sqnare, 
round,  and  flat  Wrougki'Iron,  from  the  smallest  to  the  largest  size 
ever  used ;  with  a  Series  of  Valuable  Experiments  on  the  strensth  of 
Cast-Iron,  and  a  number  of  useful  Rules  and  Tables.  By  J.  O.  xork^ 
Civil  Engineer. 

In  a  few  days  will  be  published,  a  new  edition  of  The  Genuine 
Epistles  of  the  Apostolic  Fathers,  translated  by  Arehbishop  Wake. 

On  the  10th  of  March  will  be  published,  a  miniature  edition  of 
Cruden's  Concordance,  the  size  4  bv  2  inches,  to  correspond  to  the 
Polymicrian  editions  of  the  New  Testament,  and  Schmidt's  Ghreek 
Concordance. 

The  Life  and  Travels  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  illustrated  by  a  Map^ 
will  appear  in  the  course  of  next  month ;  and  judging  ^m  the  superior 
talent  of  the  Author,  must  prove  a  valuable  accession  to  the  library  of 
the  Christian. 

The  Fifth  Part  of  the  Byron  Gallery  is  now  ready>  and  contains  fiv* 
splendid  plates  from  Childe  Harold,  Lara,  Do»  Juan,  and  Marino 
IraHero ;  beautifiilly  engraved  by  Wn.  Finden,  Chas.  Rolls,  Staines* 
Chevalier,  and  Bacon,  ftxxn  original  Pamtings  by  Westall,  Riehter^ 
Jones,  and  E.  T.  Parris.  The  Sixth  Part,  whidi  completes  thia 
elegisnt  Series  of  Illustrations  to  Byron's  Works,  will  be  published 
next  month. 

Dr.  Dymock,  ef  the  Grammar  School  o£  Glasgow,  Editor  of  Ceesar, 
Ovid,  ana  Sallust,  with  Notes  and  Indices,  Historical,  Geographical, 
and  IV^thoIogical,  is  about  to  publish  a  work,  entitled  Bibliotheca, 
Classica,  or  a  Classical  Dictionary  for  the  use  of  Schools. 

This  work  has  been  the  labour  of  many  years ;  and  if  ^e  Author  has 
exteuted  hi»  intention^  it  will  be  fiNnd;  to  lessen  the  labeur  both  o^ 
teacher  and  scholar. 


270  Literary  InieUigence^ 

The  promised  Series  of  Illustrations  to  Prinaep'i  Journal  of  a  Vojage 
from  Calcutta  to  Van  Diemen's  Land,  are  now  m  preparation,  and  will 
appear  next  month :  the  whole  will  be  beautifally  nnished  after  the 
original  drawings. 

The  Third  Volume  of  the  New  Monthly  Series  of  Original  Works  of 
Fiction,  the  Library  of  Romance,  entitlea,  Waltham,  a  Norel,  is  now 
ready.  The  next  Volume  of  the  Series  will  be  ftom  the  pen  of  Mr. 
Gait. 

The  Tropical  Agriculturist,  illustrated  with  botanical  Plates,  will 
be  ready  in  a  few  days,  and  will  contain  a  Practical  Treatiae  on  the 
Cultivation  and  Management  of  Productions  suitable  to  Tropical 
Climates,  including  Products  of  the  East  and  West  Indies^  by  G.  R. 
Porter,  Esq. 

This  work  will  be  of  the  greatest  importance  to  all  connected  with 
our  various  colonies. 

The  Sixth  Number  of  the  Parent's  Cabinet  of  Amusement  and  In- 
struction is  now  ready,  and  contains — Casimir  and  Julia ; — Unde  John 
in  Canada ;— Carrier  and  Wild  Pigeons. 

A  valuable  work  is  just  completed,  in  one  volume,  12mo.,  entitled. 
The  Christian's  Manual,  or  the  Bible  its  own  Interpreter ;  to  whidi 
are  added,  a  Brief  Account  of  the  several  Books  and  Writers  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testament,  and  remarks  upon  the  Apocrypha. 

Capt.  Head's  Overland  Journey  from  India  is  now  ready  for  pub- 
lication, in  large  folio,  with  elegant  Plates  illustrative  of  Indian, 
Arabian,  and  Egyptian  Scenery,  and  accompanied  with  aocnrate  Plans 
and  Maps.  This  work  will  not  only  form  a  complete  and  hiehly  in- 
teresting Guide-Book  to  the  traveller  from  Bombay  to  Alexanaria^  but 
will  gratify  the  Merchant  and  the  Politician  by  sho^'ing  the  practica- 
bility and  expediency  of  having,  by  the  Red  Sea,  a  steam  communica- 
tion with  our  Eastern  possessions,  and  the  consequent  means  of  defend- 
ing them  from  Russian  Invasion,  to  which  they  are  at  present  exposed* 

There  is  a  New  Edition  now  ready,  of  the  singular  Pamphlet  which 
appeared  some  time  ago,  entitled,  A  Call  to  Women  on  the  Subject  of 
tne  National  Debt.  We  find  that  the  plan  there  proposed  for  the 
Ladies  to  pay  oif  our  Debt  is  now  patronised  by  Government,  books 
having  been  opened  at  the  .National  Debt  Office  to  receive  Donations, 
&C.,  under  the  title  of — "  The  Ladies'  Contribution  for  the  Gbradual 
Reduction  of  a  part  of  the  National  Debt." 

On  the  20th  of  l^Iarch  ^^dll  be  published,  in  one  volume.  The 
Americans.     By  an  American  in  London. 

In  a  few  days  %vill  be  published.  Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  Corre- 
spondence of  the  Rev.  William  Lavcrs,  late  of  Honiton.  By  J.  S, 
£lliott,  with  Portrait. 

In  the  press.  Lives  of  English  Female  Worthies.  By  Mrs.  John 
Sandford.    12mo.    Vol.  I.    Containing  Lady  Jaue  Grey,  Mrs.  Colonel 

Hutchinson,  and  Lady  Rachacl  RusscU. 


Literary  Intelligence.  2fjl 

In  the  press^  History  of  the  Reformation.  By  J.  A.  Roebuck, 
Esq.  M.P. 

In  the  press.  Dictionary  of  Practical  Medicine.  By  James  Cop- 
land, M.D.,  &c.     8vo.     Part  II.    Just  ready. 

Elements  of  Materia  Medica  and  Therapeutics.  By  A.  T.  Thom- 
son, M.D.,  &c.     8vo.     Vol.  II.     Just  ready. 

In  the  press.  Introduction  to  Geology,  By  Robert  Bakewell.  8vo. 
4th  Edition,  greatly  enlarged,  with  numerous  Plates  and  Cuts. 

In  the  press.  Geology  of  the  South-East  of  England.  By  G.  Man- 
tell,  Esq.  F.R.S.  L.S.  G.S.,  &c.     8vo.     With  Plates. 

Preparing  for  publication,  by  the  Editors  of  the  Congregational 
Magazine,  a  work  on  CouCTCgationalism ;  to  contain  a  sketch  of  its 
history ;  an  exposition  and  analysis  of  its  principles :  a  comparative 
view  of  its  advantages  and  disadvantages ;  a  candid  discussion  of  the 
modifications  of  which  it  may  be  thought  susceptible ;  a  full  account 
of  the  ecclesiastical  usages  of  the  Congregationalists ;  with  an  Ap- 
pendix, containing  statistical  and  financial  tables  in  illustration  of  the 
former  part  of  the  work,  and  a  careful  reprint  of  all  the  most  valuable 
but  scarce  documents  connected  with  the  history  of  the  Congre- 
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In  the  press,  Mary  of  Burmindy;  or,  the  Revolt  of  Ghent.  By  the 
Author  or  "  Richelieu  ",  "  Henry  Masterton  ",  &c.     3  Vols,  post  8vo. 

In  the  press.  Lyrics  of  the  Heart :  with  other  Poems.  Bv  Alaric 
A.  Watts.  Post  8vo.  With  Thirty-five  highly  finished  Line  En- 
gravings. 

In  a  few  days,  A  Letter  of  Reply  to  Johnes'  Essay  on  the  Causes 
which  have  produced  Dissent  in  the  Principality  of  Wales,  which  ob- 
tained the  Koyal  Medal  in  1831. 


(    872    ) 


Art.  X.    WORKS  RECENTLY  PUBLISHED. 


iGTAinr. 

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sons,  of  Leeds.     8ro.  Ijl 

The  Private  LHe  of  Our  Lord  Jam 
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We  have  to  intreat  the  indulgence  of  our  subscribers.  Our  present  Nnnher  is 
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pleting  his  task.  Tlic  deficient  sheet,  and  the  Title,  Contents,  and  Index  to  VoL  VIII« 
will  be  given  in  the  next  Number. 


THE 


ECLECTIC    REVIEW, 


For  APRIL,  1833. 


Alt.  I.  An  Inquify  into  the  State  of  Slavery  amongst  the  Romans ; 
frem  the  earliest  Period  till  the  Establishment  of  the  Lombards  in 
Italy.  By  William  Blair,  Esq.  12mo.  pp.  xii.  301.  Price  6#. 
Edinburgh,  1833. 

'T^HIS  *  ouUii^e  of  the  most  important  chapter  in  the  great  his- 
-^  tory  of  servitude  \  is  from  the  pen  of  a  gentleman  who  has 
had  an  opportunity  of  personaUy  observing  the  condition  of  the 
slaves  in  two  of  our  colonies ;  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  the 
Mauritius.  He  is  the  son  of  the  late  Lord  President  Blair  of 
the  Court  of  Session,  and  was  sent  out  as  a  Commissioner,  in 
I83S — 9»  to  inquire  into  the  state  of  those  colonies.  In  this  vo- 
lume) he  does,  hot,  however,  attempt  to  institute  any  comparison 
between  modem  colonial  and  ancient  slavery.     Wherever  the 

*  Utter  draught  ^  is  mingled,  ^  many  of  the  ingredients  %  he  re« 
marks^  *  myst  ever  be  the  same ;  but,  on  somi^  points,  the  two 

*  systems  differ  so  widely,  that  they  could  serve  but  little  to  illus- 

*  trate  each  other.'*  The  work  has  no  direct  reference,  therefore^ 
to  the  9ul»^ect  which  is  at  present  agitating  the  public  mind.  It 
is  purely  an  hi^tcnrical  inquiry,  relating  to  ^  a  people  who,  above 

*  all  others,   have  furnished  employment  to  the  studious  and 

*  amusement  to  the  idle ;  who  have  scarcely  left  behind  them  a 
'  coin  or  a  stone  which  has  not  been  examined  and  explained  a 

*  thousand  times,  and  whose  dress,  food^  and  household-stuff,  it 
'  has  been  the  pride  of  learning  to  understand.*^  Nevertheless, 
the  state  of  slavery  among  the  Romans,  has  hitherto  received; 
little  attention  from  literary  men  in  this  coiuitry.  Mr.  Stephen, 
in  his  invaluable  work,  ^^  The  Slavery  of  the  British  West  India 
Colonies  delineated'*'*,  has  occasionally,  for  the  purpose  of  iUustra* 
tioB,  referred  to  the  ancient  system  ;  and  the  advocates  of  Negro 
Slavery  have  not  been  ashamed  to  plead  the  example  of  the  pagan 
Romans  as  a  sanction,  claiming  for  it  the  tacit  countenance  or  per- 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  L    L 


274  Blair  on  the  Roman  Slavery. 

mission  of  Christianity  itself.  On  this  account,  in  addition  to 
the  historic  interest  attaching  to  the  inquiry,  it  is  important  that 
the  nature  of  that  system  of  servitude  should  be  fully  understood, 
to  which,  in  the  New  Testament,  there  is  repeated  reference. 
The  inquiry  may  be  rendered  subservient  to  the  purpose  of  Bib- 
lical illustration ;  and  an  examination  of  the  details  will  enable 
the  reader  to  judge,  how  far  a  system  which  was  undoubtedly  co- 
existent with  primitive  Christianity,  can  be  regarded  as  compati- 
ble with  its  dictates,  and  sanctioned  by  its  tacit  recognition. 

Slavery,  of  some  kind  or  other,  has  existed  as  Uie  condition 
of  a  certain  class  of  the  population,  in  almost  every  country,  from 
the  remotest  antiquity.  No  great  nation  of  the  ancient  world,  of 
which  any  accounts  have  come  down  to  us,  seems  to  have  been 
wholly  without  a  servile  class.  From  the  records  of  the  Old 
Testament,  a  condition  of  absolute  bondage  appears  to  have  been 
established  as  a  regular  institution  in  Asia  and  in  Egypt.  The 
Patriarchs  had  slaves,  as  well  as  the  Canaanites  and  the  AraUans. 
It  existed  in  every  part  of  Greece,  and  may  be  traced  in  the  re- 
mains of  all  those  States  into  which  Italy  was  divided  anterior  to 
the  foundation  of  Rome.  Instead  of  being  confined  to  any  race, 
it  prevailed  in  every  branch  of  the  human  family.  The  black 
races  held  in  bondage  the  less  civilized  whites;  the  descendants  of 
Ham  made  captives  and  bondsmen  of  those  of  Shem  and  Japhet, 
who  indiscriminately  held  in  slavery  the  descendants  of  their 
respective  progenitors,  and  those  of  tne  supposed  parent  of  the 
sable  children  of  the  Sun,  upon  whom  some  authors  have  ab- 
surdly represented  slavery  to  be  peculiarly  entailed.  Britain,  down 
to  a  late  period,  supplied  slaves  to  the  Roman  market ;  and  *'  his- 
'  torians  have  often  repeated  the  singular  anecdote  told  bv  Bede^ 
'  of  Gregory  the  Great  having  been  moved  to  suggest  the  oon- 
'  version  of  our  ancestors,  by  the  sight  of  many  fine  English 
'  youths  exposed  to  sale  in  the  market  of  Rome/  According  to 
Strabo,  Bntish  slaves  were  prized  for  their  stature,  on  which 
account  they  were  assigned  by  Augustus  to  the  service  of  the 
theatre.  England  was  disgraced  by  the  exportation  of  her 
natives  long  after  the  age  of  St.  Gregory ;  and  the  nractice  of 
kidnapping,  not  Africans,  but  Britisn  and  Irish  chudren,  was 
long  carried  on,  not  by  Algerines,  but  by  English  corsairs  and 
Bristolian  slave-traders. 

Such  is  the  high  antiquity,  such  the  universal  prevalence  in 
former  times,  of  Slavery.  Whence  could  such  a  state  of  things 
have  originated  ?  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  it  had  its  first 
origin,  as  Michaelis  remarks,  in  war.  The  claim  of  the  master 
was  founded  upon  the  supposed  right  of  conquest,  or  rather, 
upon  the  clemency  or  humane  policy  which  spared  the  lives  of 
the  conquered.  Captivity  was  a  commutation  of  the  bloody  law 
of  war.     Slavery  was,  therefore,  in  its  origin  and  essential  cha- 


•  Blair  an  the  Raman  Slavery.  S76 

racter,  a  penal  condition.  Those  who  were  taken  in  war,  were 
dealed  witn  as  rebels,  or  persons  obnoxious  to  vengeance.  All  wars 
have  been  levied  apon  some  pretext  which  might  throw  the  blame 
upon  the  weaker  party,  and  give  to  the  vindictive  or  predatory 
incursion  the  semblance  of  retribution  or  penal  justice.  How 
tunustly  soever  the  innocent  victims  might  be  reduced  to  bondage, 
it  18  clear,  that  they  were  regarded  as  having  forfeited  life,  before 
they  were  deprived  of  liberty.  The  right  to  enslave  another,  is 
founded  on  tne  right  to  take  away  his  iSe.  Hence,  the  difference 
in  the  estimated  value  of  a  slaveys  life  and  that  of  a  freeman.  The 
former  is  an  imperfect  life,  part  of  which  has  been  taken  by  the 
eword  of  vengeance,  and  part  is  lef);.  National  enemies  and 
domestic  criminals  were  viewed  in  the  same  light,  and  placed 
alike  beyond  the  pale  of  humanity.  The  apology  for  massacre 
in  war,  and  for  the  milder  punishment,  slavery,  is  substantially 
the  same.  Thus  we  find  Michaelis  palliating  the  cruelties  of  the 
ancient  warfare  by  asking,  ^  whether  a  magistrate  has  a  right  to 

*  proceed  more  severely  against  a  band  of  robbers,  than  one  nation 

*  against  another  that  has  behaved  with  as  much  hostility  and 

*  cruelty  as  robbers  can  do."*  *  His  argument  is,  that  if  it  is  not 
deemed  unjust  to  inflict  capital  punishments,  and  even  torture, 
an  banditti,  who  are  subjects,  it  cannot  be  absolutely  unjust  to 
treat  foreign  enemies  with  equal  severity.  It  is  due  to  the  learned 
Writer  to  remark,  that  his  object  is,  to  vindicate  from  the  objec- 
tions of  sceptics,  the  cruelties  practised  in  the  wars  of  the  Israel- 
ites, which  he  shews  to  have  been  strictly  conformable  to  the 
Asiatic  law  of  nations  at  that  period.  According  to  the  same 
law  which  doomed  the  males  to  massacre,  the  women  and  children 
were  carried  into  captivity.  If  any  who  had  borne  arms  were 
spared  to  become  slaves,  that  was  considered  as  an  act  of  cle- 
mency, an  exercise  of  compassion.  Such  was  undoubtedly  the 
origin  of  a  servile  class  among  most  ancient  nations ;  and  the 
slave  was  either  a  captive  or  the  child  of  one.  ^  The  Romans  % 
Mr.  Blair  remarks : 

'  seem  to  have  usually  acted  upon  the  rule  of  granting  life  and  liberty 
to  enemies  who  surrendered  without  a  contest ;  but  of  carrying  away> 
as  priscmers^  those  who  had  made  resistance.  The  most  of  such  cap- 
tives, often  after  the  humiliation  of  being  led  in  triumph,  were  sold 
into  slavery,  or  sent  to  fight  in  the  amphitheatre,  as  gladiators  or 
combatants  with  wild  beasts ;  but  some  were  usually  retained  by  the 
state,  as  public  slaves.  Romulus,  after  his  first  successes  over  his 
neighbours,  directed,  that  not  all  the  vanquished  of  the  age  of  puberty 
should  be  put  to  death  or  sold,  but  that  some  of  them  should  be  al- 
lowed to  become  citizens  of  Rome ;  and  the  exception  made  by  him, 
shews  us  what  was  the  prevailing  custom  in  that  early  age. 


•  Michaelis's  Laws  of  Moses,  Vol.  I.  p.  330. 

L  l2 


276  Blair  an  the  Roman  Slatery. 

*  In  general^  pritioners  of  war  were  sold,  as  soon  aa  poasible,  aftir 
their  capture ;  and  if  a  subsequent  treaty  provided  lor  tneir  leloKy  it 
would  appear^  that  a  special  law  ^vas  passed,  ordering  the  buyers  of 
such  slaves  to  give  them  up^  on  receiving  (from  the  treasury)  repay- 
ment of  the  onginal  purchase  money.  At  least,  we  have  one  instance 
of  this  proceeding,  with  regard  to  a  body  of  Ligurians,  who  had  snr- 
rcndercd,  and  were  sold  by  the  consul  Popilins,  while  the  senate  was 
deliberating  about  their  treatment.  It  was  feared,  that  no  other 
enemies  would  ever  yield  themselves,  if  these  were  kept  ill  slavery; 
and  a  decree  was  issued,  annulling  the  previous  tales,  ud  compeUiBg 
the  respective  purchasers  to  set  free  the  Ligurians  ;  but  with  rastkop 
tion,  by  the  public,  of  the  prices  whidi  had  been  paid.  Piisuneit 
belonging  to  a  revolted  nation  were,  without  exoeption  in  fiivter  of 
voluntary  surrender,  sold  into  servitude;  and  sometiines,  asamoK 
severe  punishment,  or  greater  precaution,  it  was  stipulated,  at  their 
sale,  that  they  should  be  carried  to  distant  places,  ana  ahould  not  be 
manumitted  within  twenty  or  thirty  years.  The  most  ocHnmon  terms 
for  slaves  are  generally  thought  to  be  derived  from  words  expressive  oF 
capturing,  or  of  preserving ;  and  a  few  escamples  will  suffice  to  shew, 
how  abundant  a  supply  of  bondsmen  was  obtained,  by  the  Romans,  ia 
their  wars.  After  the  fall  of  the  Samnites  at  Aqmlonia,  2,553,000 
(or  2,033,000)  pieces  of  brass  were  realized  by  the  sale  of  prisotra, 
who  amounted  to  about  36^000.  Lucretins  brought  from  the  Vnlsriis 
war,  1250  captives:  and,  by  the  capture  of  one  inconsiderable  towa, 
no  less  than  4000  slaves  were  obtained.  The  number  of  the  people  of 
Epirus  taken,  and  sold,  for  behoof  of  the  army,  under  Panlna  ./&nilius, 
was  150,000.  On  the  Romans'  descent  upon  Afirica,  in  the  first  Punic 
war,  they  took  20,000  prisoners.  Gelon,  praetor  of  Syiacosej  haviitf 
routed  a  Carthaginian  army,  took  so  many  captives,  that  he  save  509 
of  them  to  each  of  several  citizens  of  Agngentum.  On  the  great 
victory  of  iMarius  and  Catulus  over  the  Cimbri,  60,000  were  captured. 
When  Pindenissus  was  taken  by  Cicero,  the  inhabitants  were  sold  Hw 
more  than  100,000/.  Augustus,  having  overcome  the  Salassi,  sold,  ss 
slaves,  36,000,  of  whom  8,000  ^vere  capable  of  bearing  arms.  Julius 
Ceesar  is  said,  by  Plutarch  and  Appian,  to  have  taken,  in.  his  Gallic 
wars  alone,  no  fewer  than  a  million  of  prisoners ;  a  statement  which 
is,  no  doubt,  much  exaggerated,  but  wnich  shews,  that  the  number 
was  considered  to  be  great :  perhaps,  we  may  adopt  the  estimate  of 
Vellcius  Paterculus,  who  says,  merely,  that  they  exceeded  400^000. 

'  Both  law  and  custom  forbade  prisoners,  taken  in  civil  wars,  to  be 
dealt  with  as  slaves  ;  )t;t  the  rule  was  sometimes  disr^arded.  Brutus 
proposed  to  sell  his  Lycian  captives,  within  sight  of  the  town  of  Pktra ; 
but  finding,  that  the  spectacle  did  not  produce  the  effect  he  expected 
on  the  inhabitants,  he  quickly  put  an  end  to  the  sale.  On  the  takii^ 
of  Cremona,  by  the  forces  of  Vitellius,  his  general  Antoiiius  ordered 
that  none  of  the  captives  should  be  detained ;  and  the  soldiers  could 
find  no  purchasers  nir  them.  The  latter  fact  shews  the  general  feeling 
on  the  subject,  and  is  not  weakened,  as  a  proof,  by  the  apparent  anti- 
cipations of  the  tror^ps ;  for  the  spirit  of  ])arties  was,  at  that  time, 
peculiarly  acrimonious,  and  Cremona  had  made  so  obstinate  a  defence, 
that  some  signal  vengeance  might  be  thought  due     Prisoners  often 


Blair  an  the  Roman  Slavery.  277 

•affered,  by  their  being  thus  of  no  value.  In  the  instance  iust  men- 
tioned, the  soldiers  began  to  kill  them^  if  not  privately  bought  off  by 
their  friends;  and.  in  the  eaiiier  dvil  commotions,  captives  wete  openly 
Masaocred  by  Sylla  and  the  Triumviri ;  which,  perhaps,  would  not 
have  been  done,  to  the  same  extent,  had  those  prisoners  been  saleaUe*' 

pp-  17—21. 

•  This  people,  of  whose  war-laws  we  are  apt  to  think  so  highly', 
remarks  Michaelis,  ^  for  a  long  time,  even  to  the  days  of  Caesar, 
*  massacred  their  prisoners  in  cold  blood,  whenever  toey  survived 
*'  the  disgrace  of  the  triumph.'  *  Slavery  was  the  bitter  alter- 
Bative ;  a. striking  illustration  of  the  fact,  that  '^  the  tender  mer- 
dea  of  the  wicked  are  cruel.''  f 

'  When  a  property  in  man  was  thus  eetabltfthed,  cmginating  in 
▼ioience^  the  trade  in  men  speedily  commenced.  Prisoners  df 
iwr  were  first  sold ;  a:nd  then,  to  supply  the  market  dttce  opened, 
tti^  harmless  and  unoffending  were  kidnapped,  or  hunted  down, 
and  carried  off  from  their  country  by  the  pirates  of  the  ancient 
world*  The  chief  emporium  of  the  Roman  slave-trade  was 
Delus. 

'  The  slave  trade  which  they  encouraged  was  so  brisk,  that  the  port 
became  proverbial  for  such  traffic,  and  was  capable  of  importing  and 
re-exporting  lOjOOO  slaves  in  a  single  day.  Tne  Cilician  pirates  made 
Delos  the  gteat  staple  for  sale  of  their  captives,  which  was  a  very 
gaiiiftil  part  of  their  occupation.  Sida,  a  city  of  Pamphylia,  was 
aaotihef  market  of  these  robbers,  for  the  disposal  of  their  prisoners, 
wImiii  tAiey  mAd  there,  avowing  them  to  be  free  men.  The  pirates  of 
Cilkna  were  pnt  down  by  Pompey,  who  burned  1,300  of  th^r  ships ; 
bttt  the  eastern  part  of  the  Mediterranean  was  never  free  from  piratical 
adventm^rs,  by  whom  captives,  for  sale  or  ransom,  were  considered 
valaable  booty.  Delos  ceased  to  be  a  great  mart  after  the  Mithridatic 
war;  and  it  seems  probable,  that,  afterwards,  the  slave-trade  was 
transferred  to  the  various  ports  nearest  those  countries  whence  the 
slaves  came. 

'  The  most  r^ular  supply  of  valuable  slaves  to  the  Italian  market, 
was  orieinally  procured  through  trade.  Other  nations,  no  doubt,  sold 
to  the  Roman  dealers,  slaves  taken  in  wars  with  which  Rome  had  not 
been  concerned.  In  most  countries,  too,  it  was  common  for  parents  to 
sell  their  children  into  slavery*  When  the  privileges  of  Roman  dti- 
senship  were  highly  esteemea,  and  rarely  obtained,  it  was  not  unusual 
for  the  allies  to  give  their  children  as  slaves  to  masters  in  Rome,  on 
condition  of  their  being  ultimately  manumitted,  and  so  made  to  par- 
ticipate, as  freedmen,  in  the  envied  advantages  of  citizens ;  until  the 
practice  was  chocked  by  a  special  enactment,  in  a.  u.  c.  573.  Doubts 
have  been  thrown  upon  the  extent  of  the  slave-trade  carried  on  by  the 
Romans,  from  the  vastness  of  its  cost;  but  the  value  of  ordinary  ^ves 
was  not  such  as  to  give  much  weight  to  this  objection.     In  trafficking 

*  Laws  of  Moses,  Vol.  I.  p.  331.  +  Prov.  xii.  10. 


2}  8  Blair  on  the  Raman  Slavery, 

with  comparatively  barbarous  natioosy  dealers  procured  slaTes  bf 
barter^  at  a  very  cneap  rate.  Salt,  for  example,  was  sndently  mncn 
taken  by  the  Thracians,  in  exchange  fiur  human  beinga.  £ven  had 
the  cost  of  slaves  been  higher  than  we  have  good  authonty  far  estimat- 
ing it>  the  wealth  of  the  Romans  was  certainly  so  immense,  that  great 
capital  might  be  supposed  to  have  been  engaged  in  a  trade  which  had 
become  absolutely  necessary  ;  besides,  we  have  many  poaitiTe  testiBO- 
nies  to  the  fact,  of  great  numbers  of  foreign  slaves  being  imported  into 
Italy.  Man-stealing  appears  to  have  been,  at  all  times,  a  very  preva- 
lent'crime  amongst  the  ancients ;  there  is  every  reason  to  thuuk  thst 
Terence  was  kidnapped  from  Carthage ;  the  Fersa  and  Psennlns  of 
Plautus  shew  that  such  practices  were  not  unusual  in  the  East,  when 
they,  or  their  originals,  were  written ;  and  St.  Paul,  in  denoondng 
man-stealers  as  sinners  of  the  worst  class,  impresses  ns  with  the  belief 
that  these  offences  were  very  frequent.  The  number  of  Roman  laws 
passed,  at  various  periods,  against  man-stealing,  ^plagium^  evinces  at 
once  the  sense  which  the  Legislature  entertained  of  its  enormity^  and 
the  difficulty  experienced  in  its  suppression.'     pp.  29—31. 

'  Free-bom  Romans  might  be  reduced  to  slavery  by  the  operatiQa  of 
law.  Criminals  doomed  to  certain  ignominious  punishments  were,  by 
effect  of  their  sentence,  deprived  of  citizenship,  and  snnk  into  a  state 
of  servitude.  They  were  then  termed  '^  slaves  of  punishmenty"  T*em 
pcencB,]  and  belonged  to  the  fisc,  in  later  times,  whence  we  may  jndflB 
them  to  have  been  the  property  of  the  public  during  the  commonwealtL 
This  severe  consequence  was  inferred  by  condemnation  to  death,  or  to 
the  arena,  or  to  labour  for  life,  in  the  mines  or  the  pnblic  works  ;  and  s 
pardon,  or  a  remission  of  the  penalty,  left  the  convict  still  a  slav^ 
unless  he  was  restored  to  his  former  rank  by  a  special  act  of  giaoe. 
But  the  condition  of  penal  slaves  was  entirely  abolished  by  Jostiniaa. 
We  must  not  omit  here  to  mention,  that  during  the  early  persecatioH 
of  Christianity,  reduction  to  slavery  in  a  very  horrid  nmn,  waa  em^ 
ployed  as  a  punishment  for  the  embracing  of  our  £uth.'     pp.  38—90. 

Michaelis,  in  his  Commentaries  on  the  Laws  of  Mooea,  is 
disposed  to  defend  the  legislative  policy  which  would  perpetnate 
slavery,  on  this  ground ;  that,  where  it  does  not  subaiat,  *  many 
'  crimes  which  might  otherwise  be  more  advantageously,  and  per- 
haps more  effectually,  and  at  the  same  time  ^so  more  mildly 
punished  by  condemnation  to  slavery,  must  be  made  cajntal 
offences ;  such  as  theft  and  wilfiil  bankruptcy  !  Nor  ia  diere\ 
he  adds,  ^  any  proper  means  of  preventing  the  idleness  of 
beggars ;  for  work-houses,  which,  after  all,  form  almost  a  spedet 
of  slavery,  cost  the  public  more  than  they  bring  in.  Nor,  agam, 
can  the  settlement  of  debts  be  in  any  way  so  summarily  and 
securely  effected,  as  when  the  creditor  has  it  in  his  power  to  edl 
the  debtor  for  his  slave !  *  Upon  the  whole,  the  establishment 
of  slavery  under  certain  limitations  \  the  learned  German  cod- 


*  Michaelis,  Laws  of  Moses,  Vol.  II.  p.  157* 


Blair  on  the  Soman  Slavery.  279 

tends,  *  would  prove  a  profitable  plan,'*  When  we  meet  with 
such  sentiments  as  these  m  the  pages  of  a  philosophical  and 
Christian  jurist  of  the  eighteenth  century,  we  cease  to  wonder  at 
the  injustice  and  cruelty  of  the  penal  laws  of  other  days.  But 
this  very  defence  of  slavery  includes  the  important  admission, 
that  it  is  a  penal  condition,— one  which  might  be  deemed  a  suffi- 
cient punishment  of  crimes  of  the  deepest  dye, — a  substitute  for 
capital  punishments,  milder  only  than  tne  extreme  sanction  of  the 
law,  ana,  for  the  purpose  of  terror,  not  less  effectual.  Without 
entering  upon  the  argument  relating  to  the  expediency  of  such  a 
mode  of  punishment,  we  put  it  to  our  readers,  What  is  the  cha- 
racter of  that  system  which  inflicts  the  punishment  of  guilt  upon 
the  innocent  ?  which,  without  the  pretext  of  national  hostility, 
wages  perpetual  war  against  human  nature  in  the  persons  of  those 
who  have  never  sinned,  nor  their  fathers,  against  society  ?  The 
same  relation  which  this  severest  of  secondary  punishments  bears 
to  capital  punishments,  the  crime  of  inflicting  it  upon  the  innocent 
must  bear  to  murder.  The  difference  is  merely  one  of  degree  ; 
and  as  to  colonial  slavery,  the  nature  of  the  bondage  makes  it 
little  better  than  slow  murder.  Negro  life  is  constantly  melting 
sway,  and  the  race  is  diminishing  imder  the  dreadful  penalty  of 
slavery ;  a  penalty  inflicted  not  for  the  crimes  of  its  victims,  but 
for  the  gains  of  their  masters  :  a  system  of  gratuitous  and  arbi- 
trary punishment  of  the  unoffending,  for  the  pure  advantage  and 
convenience  of  a  handful  of  white  tyrants  !  The  marked  dis- 
tinction between  the  ancient  and  the  modem  slavery,  as  to  its 
origin  and  principle,  is  forcibly  put  in  an  eloquent  sermon,  just 
published,  on  *•  The  Sinfulness  of  Colonial  Slavery  %  by  Mr. 
Halley,  the  Classical  Tutor  at  Highbury  College. 

'  In  those  early  times,  the  claim  of  the  master  was  founded  in  the 
acknowledged  laws  of  war.  These  might  have  been  unjast  and  im- 
moral^  inhuman  and  cruel.  It  is  neither  my  business  nor  nfy  inclina- 
tion to  justify  war;  but,  still,  it  is  essentially  distinct  from  the  practice 
^  man-stealmg.  In  the  patriarchal  age  war  was  unquestionably  to- 
lerated, and  slavery  was  the  unavoidable  result.  But  then  each  party 
was  exposed  to  the  danger.  Every  man,  in  hope  of  the  spoils,  put  his 
life  in  jeopardy.  He  ventured,  if  he  survived  the  day,  his  limbs  and 
liber^  upon  the  fortune  of  war.  The  understood  condition  of  every 
combat  was,  in  the  words  of  the  champion  of  Gath,  '^  If  ye  be  able  to 
fieht  with  me,  then  will  we  be  your  servants ;  but,  if  I  prevail  against 
hnn,  then  shfdl  ye  be  our  servants,  and  serve  us." 

*  When  a  property  in  man  was  thus  established,  the  practice  of 
seising  and  seUing  the  harmless  and  peaceable  very  soon  commenced. 
The  one  facilitated  the  introduction  of  the  other ;  but  who  cannot  dis- 
tinguish between  the  two  ?  Is  there  no  difference  between  the  claim 
to  a  prisoner  of  war,  who  had  attempted  your  life,  and  the  title  of  the 
Midianite  merchants,  when  they  purchased  Joseph,  an  inoffensive 
youths  from  his  brethren  ?     Retaliation  is  the  principle  of  the  former ; 


S80  Blair  on  the  RiimaH  Slavery. 

the  latlir  U  the  unprtnroked  inflfetkm  of  iiuary.  The  pare  liriit  of 
the  go^el  WM  neeeaaury  to  ditooiver  the  evil  or  the  Ibrtoer,  whidi,  in 
the  timet  of  ignomnce^  Gtod  winked  at,  in  those  who  had  no  cenadeaet 
of  the  guilt ;  the  iniquity  of  the  latter^  oondemned  evea  by  hfathm 
moralist!,  must  have  been  detected  by  the  fteble  and  obeeure  gUmncr- 
ing  of  the  light  of  nature.  For  the  firmer  might  have  been  pleaded 
the  reason  of  self-defence,  the  right  of  renrisala,  and  even  the  humanity 
of  sparing  the  life  of  a  captive ;  for  the  latter  nothing  whatever  omla 
have  been  offered  in  extenuation.  The  mighty  man  of  valour  in  that 
age  mieht  lead  home  his  captives  with  the  conqueror's  song,  *'  Blessed 
be  the  Lord,  my  strength,  which  teacheth  my  hands  to  war,  and  mj 
fingers  to  fi^t ;  **  but  the  refiections  of  the  man-stealer,  unless  his 
heart  were  iron,  must  have  been  like  those  of  the  patriarchs,  '*  We  are 
verily  ffuilty  concerning  our  brother,  in  that  we  saw  the  ai^ish  of 
his  soul,  when  he  besought  us,  and  we  would  not  hear.**  There  is  ai 
essential  a  difference  betu'een  the  two  acts  of  enslaving,  though  the 
slavery  were  the  same,  as  there  is  between  the  slaughter  of  a  soldier 
on  the  field  of  battle,  and  the  murder  of  a  traveller  for  the  sake  of 

Sold.  Joshua  was  a  man  of  war  from  his  youth ;  but  you  can  sll 
istinffuish  him  from  the  murderous  assassin. 
'  Cmonial  Slavery  is  the  bondage,  not  of  the  warrioi;,  bat  of  the 
kidnapper  and  man-stealer.  Were  we  to  go  back  to  the  infimcy  and 
earliest  rudiments  of  the  world,  we  could  not  vindicate  it,  even  by  the 
license  of  that  imperfect  state  of  morals  and  religion.  It  is  not  re- 
taliation, which  was  then  permitted,  but  the  original  and  unprovoked 
infliction  of  wrong.  Were  we  Jews,  it  is  forbidden  by  Moeea ;  were 
we  heathens,  it  is  oondemned  by  the  light  of  nature.  When  did  the 
negro  race  attempt  to  enslave  us  or  oiir  ancestors  P  When  did  their 
venels  visit  our  shoees,  and  their  armed  men  bum  our  villages,  break 
up  our  families,  carry  away  our  children,  and  doom  them  to  cruel, 
hopeless,  exhausting,  interminable  bondage?  Do  you  resien  youx 
Christianity  to  justify  slavery,  by  an  appeal  to  the  law  of  Aloses,  or 
the  license  of  the  patriarchs  ?  Where  is  even  that  un-Christian  pre- 
text ?  Had  we  seized  an  Algerine  corsair,  and  sold  his  crew  to  work 
the  plantations,  wc  might  have  appealed  for  our  precedent  to  patri- 
archal times.  But  that  one  race — ^the  most  inofTensivc,  and,  from  its 
situation  and  character,  altogether  indisposed,  and  utterly  unable  even 
if  disposed,  ever  to  interfere  with  the  politics  of  Europe,  should  have 
become  the  common  prey  of  every  plunderer, — should,  for  ages,  have 
its  several  tribes  bribeii  and  stimulated  to  mutual  wars  by  a  traffic 
with  professed  Christians,  in  order  to  supply  the  slave-markets  of  the 
world;  should,  though  it  had  never  liftea  an  arm  against  its  c^pressor, 
have  seen  its  vills^cs  in  ruins,  its  rivers  and  creeks  infested  with 
slave-boats,  its  fields  stained  with  the  blood  of  the  wounded  ayid 
defenceless,  its  shores  watered  with  the  salt  tears  of  its  children,  torn 
for  ever  from  the  land  of  their  birth  and  the  love  of  their  friends,  and 
transported  across  the  Atlantic  to  become  an  oppressed  and  degraded 
population,  from  Virginia  to  La  Plata  :  this  is  tuc  burden  of  Britain, 
the  scarlet  and  crimson  stain  of  Christendom,  the  opprobrium  of  our 
religion,  the  blaspheming  of  our  God  among  the  Gentiles.  It  is  pure, 
gratuitous,  unprovoked  injury.     What  to  be  compared  with  this  was 


Blair  on  the  Raman  Slavery*  281 

ever  conceded  to  the  hardness  of  Jewish  hearts?  What  equal  injustice 
was  ever  tolerated  in  the  ignorance  and  rudeness  of  the  patriarchal 
aces  ?  Go  out  of  your  place  from  Jerusalem  above,  the  mother  of  ut 
all,  to  Mount  Sinai  in  Arabia,  in  bondage  with  her  children  ;  as  sons 
of  the  bondwoman  more  than  the  free,  consult  the  schoolmaster  of  the 
infiant  world,  in  preference  to  Christ,  the  teacher  of  its  maturer  age  ; 
and,  from  its  weak  and  beg^rly  elements  learn,  if  you  choose,  your 
lessons  of  morality.  Ask  Moses,  or  even  the  fathers,  why  the  negro 
may  be  excommunicated  from  the  fiamily  of  man  ? — why  his  unpro* 
▼oked  wrongs  should  remain  unredressed? — why  his  wife  and  children 
are  not  his  own  ? — why  you  may  claim,  what  ttie  conscience  and  laws 
of  a  Christian  people  dare  claim  in  no  other  child  of  Adam,  a  property 
and  freehold  in  his  flesh  and  sinews,  his  life  and  his  limbs  ? 

'  I  have  alluded  to  the  Mosaic,  in  connexion  with  the  patriarchal 
dispensation  ;  but,  as  the  servitude  among  the  Israelites  is  often  ad-* 
duced  in  defence  of  Colonial  Slavery,  it  may  require  a  distinct  examin- 
ation. Slavery  was,  as  we  have^  already  seen,  not  of  Moses,  but  of  the 
finthers.  It  was  a  more  ancient  institute,  which  we  acknowledge  he 
permitted,  but  did  not  establish.  It  had  become,  at  that  time,  pre- 
valent among  many  nations ;  but,  as  their  languages  shew,  the  general 
idea  was,  still,  the  service  of  prisoners  of  war,  rendered  to  the  con- 
querors to  whose  clemency,  or  cupidity,  they  owed  the  preservation  of 
life.  As  Moses  permitted  war,  I  see  not  how  he  could  consistently 
have  prohibited  slavery,  in  an  age  when  the  exchange  of  prisoners  was 
utterly  unknown.  The  Israelites,  indeed,  were  >varriors  by  a  divine 
oommission.  The  result  of  their  battles  must  have  been  either  bondage 
or  death,  Moses  tolerated  the  smaller  evil,  slavery,  to  prevent  the 
greater,  indiscriminate  massacre.  He  legislated  for  a  people  intrusted 
to  execute  the  commination  of  Noah  upon  the  posterity  of  Canaan,  in 
which  some  would  now  unwarrantably  involve  all  the  tribes  of  Africa.' 

Halley,  pp.  4— 7« 

That  the  Canaanites  were  negroes,  has  not,  so  far  as  we  recol- 
lect, been  gravely  maintained  by  any  writer ;  but  it  is  strange  to 
find  biblical  commentators,  down  to  the  present  day,  speaking  of 
the  descendants,  not  of  Canaan  merely,  but  of  Ham,  as  con- 
demned to  degradation  and  servitude.  From  the  race  of  Ham 
sprang  the  most  famous  conquerors  of  the  old  world;  and  we 
have  sometimes  thought,  that  the  very  best  pretext  that  could 
have  been  devised  by  the  whites,  for  reducing  the  black  races  to 
bondage,  would  have  been  the  plea  of  retaliation,  since  the  an- 
cestors of  the  whites  were  held  in  subjection  by  sable  lords,  when 
a  fair  skin  was  no  patent  of  nature^s  nobility.  The  ancient 
slavery  was,  however,  very  impartial  in  this  respect,  and,  like 
Mohammed^s  law  of  polygamy  *,  allowed  a  community  of  all 


*  We  do  not  vouch  for  the  fsjcX,  that  Mohammed  sanctioned  poly- 
gamy with  the  view  of  allowing  every  roan  who  could  afford  it,  to  have 
n>ur  wives  of  different  colours,  white,  black,  mah(^any^  and  olive ;  but 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  M  M 


282  Blair  on  the  Roman  Slavery. 

colours.  Had  the  commination  of  Nosh  been  intended  to  fall 
only  upon  Africans,  it  must  be  admitted  to  have  been  wholly 
frustrated,  for  the  supposed  curse  has  taken  effect  most  indis- 
criminately ;  nor  can  the  truth  of  the  prediction  be  supported  on 
such  an  hypothesis.  Phrygia,  Syria,  Thrace,  lUyria,  and  the 
hyperborean  region  of  £urope,  as  well  as  Spain  and  Britain, 
supplied  Greece  and  Italy  with  slaves;  aa  the  market  of  Con- 
stantinople is  still  supplied  with  Mamlooks  from  the  rqpon  of 
Caucasus  and  the  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean.  If  the  West 
India  planter  wishes  to  shield  himself  under  classic  precedents, 
he  must  not  speak  of  the  colour  of  his  slaves  as  making  the 
slightest  difference  in  the  matter.  If  it  be  right  to  hold  negroes 
in  predial  servitude,  it  must  be  equallv  fair  and  just  to  sell 
Christian  children  in  the  Turkish  market,  and  to  work  white 
slaves  at  Algiers.  But  wc  should  greatly  wrong  the  West 
Indians,  did  we  suppose  for  a  moment,  that  they  found  their  right 
over  their  slaves  upon  the  dark  complexion,  ana  crisped  hair,  and 
African  blood  of  their  property.  To  be  white  in  fact,  and  white 
by  laWy  are  very  different  things  in  countries  where  to  be  a  slave 
is  to  be  a  negro.  The  following  statement  occurs  in  the  evidence 
given  by  the  Rev.  W.  Knibb  before  the  Select  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Lords :  ^  I  dare  say  it  is  consistent  with  your  Lord- 
^  ships^  knowledge,  that  many  of  the  present  slaves  (in  Jamaica) 
^  are  the  children  of  Englishmen  and  Scotchmen,  some  of  them 
^  the  sons  of  the  daughters  of  such  persons,  and  some  of  them  as 
*  white  as  ourselves:  they  get  English  feelings,  and  they  long  for 
^  English  knowledge,  and  I  think  they  have  an  influence  on  the 
^  mass.^*  This  is  not  peculiar  to  Jamaica.  In  the  slave  States  of 
America  and  in  Brazil,  the  slaves  are  of  all  mixtures  of  race  and 
all  shades  of  colour.  Slavery  is  everywhere  without  the  slightest 
foundation  in  nature.  The  only  line  of  demarcation  between  the 
slave  and  the  free,  is  the  arbitrary  though  impassable  barrier  id 
caste.  The  chief  distinction  between  the  Oriental  and  the  Occi- 
dental slavery  is  this ;  the  Ottoman  does  not  disdain  to  adopt  a 
slave  as  his  son,  while  the  Jamaica  planter  has  no  scruple  in 
selling  his  own  child  as  a  slave!  For  this,  however,  the  Christian 
may  plead  pagan  precedents. 

'  It  was  quite  legal  for  parents  within  the  Roman  territories  to  sell 
their  children  irredeemably  as  slaves ;  and  it  was  very  common  among 

such  is  the  policy  ascribed  to  him  by  a  French  writer,  who  contends 
that  it  is  the  only  method  of  preventing  the  several  races  from  perse- 
cuting each  other,  by  placing  them  all  on  the  same  footing.  Yet,  what 
better  is  that  common  footing  than  domestic  slavery  ? 

*  Minutes  of  Evidence,  p.  805.      See  also  p.  251  of  our  last 
Number. 


Blair  on  the  Roman  Slavery.  983 

those  people  who  had  not  the  freedom  of  Rome.  Greece,  however,  and 
especially  Arcadia,  formed  an  honourable  exception  to  this  disgraceful 
system  ....  How  far  the  sale  of  children  went  originally,  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  determine ;  but,  at  a  very  early  date,  it  had  the  effect  of  making 
them  slaves  as  completely  as  if  they  had  been  captives,  and  not  born 
within  the  walls  of  Rome.'    Blair,' ^^.  32—3. 

Among  the  Romans,  as  in  our  own  Colonies,  slavery  by  birth 
depended  upon  the  condition  of  the  mother  alone ;  and  her  master 
became  owner  of  her  offspring,  not  the  less  so  when  he  was  the 
father  also.  In  early  times,  a  Roman  father  was  entitled  to  put 
even  his  frec-bom  children  to  death,  as  well  as  to  expose  or  to  sell 
them.  A  law  ascribed  to  Romulus  recognises  this  extensive 
power,  which  is  sanctioned  also  by  the  Twelve  Tables,  and  re- 
mained part  of  the  written  law  till  the  reign  of  Alexander  Severus. 
The  sale  of  children  by  their  parents,  under  the  pressure  of  want, 
was  legalised  by  Theodosius  tne  Great ;  ^  but  those  sold  into  ser- 

*  vitude  were  to  be  returned  to  their   original  ingenuous  con- 

*  dition,  whenever  claimed,  and  without  any  compensation  to  their 

*  purchaser.'  Justinian,  however,  re-established  the  rule  of  Con- 
stantine,  which  required  the  parent  to  give  the  buyer  the  value  of 
the  child  or  mother  slave.  These  enactments  were  obviously  in- 
tended to  check  infanticide.  The  power  of  the  father  over  his  in- 
genuous offspring  would  seem,  indeed,  to  have  been  nearly  as  great 
as  over  his  bond  children. 

Upon  the  whole,  slavery,  among  the  Romans,  was  a  condition 
admitting  of  many  gradations,  and  it  was  confined  to  no  distinct 
caste.  As  the  freeman  might  be  reduced  to  slavery,  or  might 
voluntarily  descend  into  it,  so,  the  slave  might  hope  to  emerge 
from  it.  Slavery,  under  any  modification,  cannot  be  dissociated 
from  degradation  and  liability  to  cruel  oppression ;  but  the  Ro- 
man slavery  was  an  institution  which  admitted  of  far  greater 
mitigation,  and  more  readily  yielded  to  the  meliorating  influence 
of  Christianity,  than  the  colonial  slavery  of  modem  times. 

It  has  been  questioned,  whether  the  Greek  or  the  Roman  ser- 
vitude was  the  more  favourable  to  the  slave.  As  to  the  actual 
condition,  Mr.  Blair  remarks,  between  the  conquest  of  Corinth 
and  the  reign  of  Antoninus  Pius,  the  slave  at  Rome  was  much 
less  protected  by  law  and  public  feeling,  and  had,  probably,  less 
indulgence,  than  the  slave  at  Athens. 

'  Before  the  earlier  of  those  eras,  indeed,  simnlicity  of  maimers 
rendered  the  treatment  of  slaves,  in  Italy,  generally  good :  yet  that 
could  not  be  implicitly  relied  upon.  But,  after  the  adoption,  by  An- 
toninus, of  one  of  the  best  Athenian  laws,  the  servile  classes  in  the 
Roman  territories  came  to  be  on  a  level  with  those  in  the  Grecian 
states.  There  appear  to  be  strong  reasons  for  believing,  that  the 
Helots  in  Lacediemonia,  being  the  property  of  the  State,  and  not  of  in- 

M  M  2 


284  Blair  on  the  Eoman  Slaverff. 

dividual8>  were  permitted  to  live,  remored  ham  tha  oontrol  of  then 
masters,  in  a  condition  very  similar  to  that  of  the  Ser&,  or  adseripiUut 
under  the  declining  Roman  empire.  Bat  the  temporary  relaxatioa 
from  their  bonds  which  the  Helots  enjoyed,  was  as  nothing  in  the 
scale,  when  there  was  thrown  in  against  it,  their  liability  to  snfler 
from  the  inhuman  policy  which  dictated  to  the  Spartans  periodicsl 
massacres,  as  the  means  of  removing  their  apprehensions  at  the  increaie 
of  the  slave  population/    p.  194. 

As  it  respected  the  prospect  of  a  cbange  of  condition,  the  Bo- 
man  bondsman  had  a  decided  advantage  over  the  Greek. 

'  At  Sparta,  slaves  seem  to  have  had  hardly  any  hopes  of  ever  being 
admitted  among  freemen.  At  Athens,  emancipation  from  the  domi- 
nion of  the  master  was  frequent;  but  the  privileges  of  citiaenship 
rarely  followed,  even  to  a  limited  extent,  and  were  conferred  by  pnUie 

authority  alone Ai  Rome,  the  lowest  slave  could  always  look 

forward  to  manumission,  and  to  obtaining  the  rank  ^  a  ciiizem  through 
the  sole  will  of  his  master.  Between  the  reigns  of  Aug^tua  and  Jii*« 
tinian,  it  is  true,  that  there  existed  restrictions,  in  point  of  number, 
upon  the  master's  powers  of  freeing  his  bondsmen,  and  raiaing  them 
to  the  station  of  Roman  citizens ;  yet,  during  that  interval,  many 
might  hope  for  an  opportunity  of  r^u:hine  a  better  condition.  And 
at  all  times,  previous  to  the  limitations  ot  Augustus,  and  asain  afker 
the  ample  encouragement  of  Justinian,  no  slave  needed  to  despair  of 
becoming  both  a  citizen  and  a  freeman/  p.  195. 

Unlike  the  Greeks,  who,  in  the  pride  of  intellect  and  the  true 
spirit  of  republicanism  *,  considered  slavery  as  derivable  from 
the  laws  of  nature  and  the  permanent  diversities  in  the  races  of 
man,  regarding  themselves  as  an  aristocrasy  among  the  nations ; 
the  Romans,  who  partook  more  of  the  military  spirit,  and  to  whom 
law  stood  instead  of  philosophy,  recognized  the  national  equality 
of  the  human  species,  and  confessed  the  dominion  of  masters  over 
slaves  to  flow  entirely  from  the  will  of  society.  While  the  Re- 
public lasted,  however,  the  legal  character  of  the  Roman  alaveiy 
remained  uniform  and  unmitigated ;  and  the  slave  had  no  pro- 
tection against  the  avarice,  rage,  or  lust  of  his  master.  All  the 
changes  which  had  the  authority  of  law,  were  introduced  under 
the  Empire.  The  master'^s  power  of  life  and  death  over  his 
slaves,  was  first  sought  to  be  legally  abolished  by  Hadrian  and 
Antoninus  Pius.  The  mutilation  of  slaves  had  been  forbidden 
by  Domitian.  Hadrian  suppressed  the  ergastula^  or  slave-pri- 
sons, which  seem  to  have  answered  to  the  Jamaica  work-houses. 
They  were  originally  intended  for  convict  or  fugitive  slaves. 


•  *  That  the  condition  of  a  slave  is  better  under  an  arbitrary  than 
under  a  free  government,  is,'  Adam  Smith  remarks,  '  supported  by 
the  history  of  all  ages  and  nations.' 


BUir  an  ike  Roman  Slavery.  285 

but  were  abused  for  the  nefarious  purpose  of  imprisoning  and 
working  in  chains  kidnapped  freemen  *.  The  same  enlightened 
heathen  emperor  introduced  some  other  important  restrictions  on 
the  sale  and  ill  treatment  of  slaves.  He  even  banished  a  lady  of 
rank,  because  she  was  notoriously  cruel  to  her  slaves.  Constan- 
tine  prohibited  the  punishment  of  branding  a  slave,  which  is  now 
practised  in  the  West  Indies,  not  on  convict  slaves  only,  but  often 
without  the  imputation  of  a  crime !  He  also  passed  an  edict 
which  placed  the  wilful  murder  of  a  slave  on  a  level  with  that  of 
a  freeman,  and  expressly  included  the  case  of  a  slave  who  died 
under  punishment,  unless  that  was  inflicted  with  the  usual  in- 
struments of  correction.  But  this  law  was  afterwards  modified. 
The  effect  of  Christianity  in  meliorating  the  usage  of  slaves,  was 
oonsiderable,  even  prior  to  its  political  establishment  -|*. 

'  Christianity  inculcated  a  salutary  care  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of 
slaves.  The  church  invited  or  allowed  them  to  partake  of  all  the  or- 
dinances of  religion :  and  their  birth  was  no  impediment  to  their 
rising  to  the  highest  dignities  of  the  priesthood.  In  early  times,  it 
would  appear,  that  slaves,  holding  the  true  faith,  were  taken  into  the 
service  of  the  church;  like  the  two  slave-girls,  mentioned  by  Pliny,  in 
his  celebrated  letter  to  Trajan,  respecting  the  Christians  ot  Bithynia. 
At  first,  indeed,  it  was  required,  that  a  slave  should  be  enfranchised, 
before  ordination ;  but  Justinian  declared  the  simple  consent  of  the 
master  to  be  sufficient.  If  a  slave  had  been  ordained  without  his 
owner's  knowledge,  the  latter  might  demand  him  within  a  year ;  and 
the  slave  fell  back  into  his  master's  power.  Nay,  if  a  slave,  after 
ordination  with  his  master's  consent,  chose  to  renounce  the  ecdesias* 
tical  state,  and  returned  to  a  secular  life,  he  was  given  back,  as  a  slave, 
to  his  master.  Similar  rules  applied,  originally,  to  the  assumption 
and  abandonment  of  the  monastic  habit,  by  slaves ;  but  subsequently, 
they  were  directed  to  remain  three  years  in  a  state  of  probation,  after 
which,  their  admission  into  a  religious  order  made  them  free.  We 
are  told,  that  it  was  very  common,  for  both  ecclesiastic  and  lay  patrons 
of  churches  and  chapels,  to  encourage  their  slaves  to  become  clergy- 
men, that  they,  in  preference  to  strangers,  might  receive  their  bene- 
fices :  till  the  practice  was  condemned,  in  the  fifth  century,  by  the 
council  of  Chalcedon.     The  canon  law  must,  always,  have  recognised 

*  Mr.  Stephen  has  shewn  that  the  ergasiuli  were  penal  slaves,  or 
those  on  whom  that  character  was  fraudulently  imposed.  See  Slavery  of 
the  W.  I.  Colonies,  vol.  i.  pp.  338 — 358.  It  is  doubted  whether, 
among  the  agricultural  slaves,  there  were  any  females.  There  are  no 
allusions  to  their  being  so  employed ;  and  there  would  seem  to  have 
been  none  at  least  among  the  ergastulu  Liberty,  according  to  the 
testimony  of  Columella,  was  generally  conferred  upon  female  slaves 
who  had  borne  four  or  more  children.     See  Blair,  p.  104. 

t  Mr.  Blair  cites  at  p.  127»  the  apocryphal  Apostolic  Constitutions 
as  the  work  of  Clemens  Alexandrinus,  and  a  production  of  the  second 
century.    Lardner  will  set  him  right  on  this  point. 


286  Blair  on  the  Roman  Slaoerjf. 

the  indisflolubility  of  marriaees  contracted  by  alaFCS ;  bat  it  was  Ml 
published^  as  a  nue  for  practice^  till  a  late  period ;  probaU j>  fran  fear 
of  injury  to  slave-owners,  by  open  infringement  of  their  wriating 
rights.  Slaves  were  fully  protected  in  the  exercise  of  worahip,  andy 
to  a  certain  extent,  in  the  observance  of  religious  festivals.  Tbe  li- 
berty and  gambols  of  the  Saturnalia  were  transferred  to  Christmas ; 
and  it  is  not  unlikely,  that  some  of  those  ceremonies  at  Eaater,  by 
which  Princes  used  to  denote  their  Christian  humilitv,  were  orimially 
derived  from  those  representations  of  equality,  exhibited  in  the  j?^igaa 
feasts  of  March  and  December.*  pp.  70 — 72. 

'  Slaves  were,  at  all  times,  competent  to  avail  themselvea  of  the 
temporary  protection  of  sanctuaries.  Those  were,  of  old,  the  taDiples 
and  altars  of  the  gods,  to  which  the  palace  and  images  of  the  Em* 
peror  were,  afterwards,  added ;  and  on  the  change  of  religion,  Christ* 
lan  churches  and  shrines  received  the  same  privileges  as  those  whidi 
had  belonged  to  edifices  dedicated  to  Heathen  worship.  A  slave  who, 
dreading  the  resentment  of  his  lord,  fled  to  an  asylum,  was  safe  while 
he  remained  there ;  and  it  would  have  been  sacrilegious  to  drag  him 
away :  but,  whenever  he  quitted  the  sacred  spot,  he  might  be  lawfully 
seized  by  his  master.  The  law  of  Theodosius  the  Great,  introduced  a 
further  security,  by  authorizing  the  slave,  while  in  the  asylum,  to  in- 
voke the  aid  of  the  judge,  and  to  proceed  unmolested  to  the  tribunal, 
where  the  merits  of  his  case  were  to  be  duly  investigated,  and  the 
threatened  vengeance  of  his  master  properly  controlled.  A  Christian 
church  afforded  very  great  safety  from  the  wrath  of  unmerdfnl  owners : 
for  when  a  slave  took  refuge  there,  it  became  the  duty  of  the  eccle- 
siastics to  intercede  for  him,  with  his  master ;  and  if  the  latter  re- 
fused to  pardon  the  slave,  they  were  bound  not  to  give  him  up,  but  to 
let  him  live  within  the  precincts  of  the  sanctuary,  till  he  chose  to 
depart,  or  his  owner  granted  him  forgiveness.'  pp.  8o,  89. 

But  to  Justinian  belongs  the  merit  of  having  removed  most  of 
the  impediments  to  manumission  created  by  bis  predecessors; 
and  the  spirit  of  his  laws  powerfully  contributed  both  to  improve 
the  condition  of  bondsmen,  and  to  promote  the  extinction  of 
domestic  servitude.     *  The  reformation  of  the  servile  code  of 

*  Rome,'  remarks  Mr.  Stephen,  *  was  attended  with  no  civil  dis- 
^  orders ;   because  manumissions,  through  the  benign  influence  of 

*  Christianity,  became  so  copious,  soon  afler  that  manumission 
^  commenced,  that  the  slaves  speedily  ceased  to  bear  a  dangerous 
^  proportion  in  number  to  the  free  citizens  and  libertines  of  the 

*  empire/  * 

Thus,  it  appears  that  Christianity,  if  it  did  not  violently  over- 
turn, gradually  dissolved  the  institution  of  slavery.     *  The  heavy 

*  chains  of  personal  slavery,'  in  the  language  of  Bp.  Forteus, 
^  were  gradually  broken  in  most  parts  of  the  Christian  world ;  and 
^  they  that  had  been,  for  so  many  ages,  bruised  by  the  cruel  and 

*  oppressive  hand  of  pagan  masters,   were  at  length    set  free.^ 

*  Slavery  of  the  W.  I.  Colonies,  vol.  i.  p.  377- 


Sprague  on  Revivals  of  Religion,  287 

It  is  admitted,  that  no  passage  in  the  Christian  Scriptures 
)(  ictually  prohibits  slavery ;  for  Christianity,  as  Paley  remarks  on 
it  this  subject,  ^  soliciting  admission  into  all  nations  of  the  world, 
7  '^abstained,  as  behoved  it,  from  intermeddling  with  the  civil  in- 
I  *•  atitutions  of  any.'  Nor  did  it  denounce  the  tyranny  of  Nero. 
'^  But  it  expressly  forbade  the  Christian  freeman  to  become  a  slave 
^  by  Yoluntary  contract ;  it  authoritatively  enjoined  the  Christian 
I  'flave  to  aspire  to  become  a  freedman,  as  well  as  to  glory  in  his 
I  spiritual  liberty  * ;  it  raised  the  bond  to  the  same  level,  in  moral 
dugnity,  with  the  free ;  it  immediately  multiplied  manumissions, 
f  and  *  operated  as  an  alterative '  upon  the  social  system ;  and,  had 
i  not  its  influence  been  counteracted  by  those  causes  which 
[  paralysed  its  own  native  energy,  by  deteriorating  its  purity,  it 
[  would  still  more  rapidly  have  produced  the  extinction  of  an  evil 
inyolving  the  most  enormous  injustice  and  the  most  fatal 
impolicy. 

The  influence  of  slavery  upon  the  social  character  of  the 
Romans,  Mr.  Blair  shews  to  have  been,  in  various  respects,  pre- 
judicial and  degrading ;  and  the  State  was  directly  exposed,  at 
diflerent  periods,  to  serious  dangers  from  the  slaves.  He  con- 
cludes his  erudite  Inquiry  with  remarking,  that  ^  on  the  whole,  if 

*  we  consider  that  several  of  those  corruptions  by  which  Rome 
^  was  undermined  had  their  chief  source  in  the  institution  of 

*  Slavery,  we  must  necessarily  look  upon  it  as  one  of  the  main 
^  causes  of  the  decay  of  her  empire.' 

*  Nature  created  man  free,'  says  Bishop  Warburton,   *  and 

*  Grace  invites  him  to  assert  his  freedom.'  A  golden  sentence  ! 
Christianity  has  extinguished  the  Roman  slavery  and  the  feudal 
servitude.  Wherever  it  has  had  free  course,  it  has  vindicated  its 
heaven-bom  character,  by  proclaiming  liberty  to  the  captive  and 
redemption  to  the  slave.  Ic  shall  yet  triumpn  over  West  Indian 
heathenism  and  American  prejudice ;  over  the  strength  of  avarice 
and  the  pride  of  caste.  It  will  redress  the  wrongs  of  the  slaves, 
and  compel  a  recognition  of  the  equal  claims  of  the  blacks.  If 
it  could  loosen  the  bonds  of  pagan  slaveiy,  shall  we  doubt  the 
issue  of  its  conflict  with  the  injustice  and  inratuation  of  Christian 
slave-holders  ? 

Art.  II.  Lectures  on  Revivals  of  Religion.  By  William  B.  Sprague^ 
D.D.^  Pastor  of  the  second  Presbyterian  Church  in  Albany.  With 
an  Introductory  £ssay,  by  the  Rev.  George  Bedford,  A.M.,  and 
the  Rev.  John  Angell  James.  12mo.  pp.  xxiv.  456.  Price  5s.  6d. 
Glasgow.     1832. 

"VTOTHING  that  the  world  has  ever  witnessed,  equals  the 

rapid  growth  of  America.     There,  in  a  temporal,  as  well  as 

a  spiritual  sense,  a  nation  is  ^  born  in  a  day."*   The  changes  which 

♦  Gal.  iu.  28.     1  Cor.  vii.  22,  23. , 


288  Sprague  on  Revivata  of  ReKgionm 

men  have  undergone  during  the  slow  lapse  of  aeveral  thouand 
years,  are  there  seen  co-existing,  in  the  same  place,  and  at  the 
same  moment.  The  savage  hunter  pursaes  hia  rode  and  primitiTe 
occupation  in  the  vicinity  of  the  civiliiation  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  Towns  rise  up  as  if  by  enchantment  in  the  midat  of  the 
sylvan  wilderness ;  and  rivers  that  were  crossed  only  by  the  canoe, 
are  traversed  by  vessels  more  wonderful  than  the  self-impelled 
galleys  of  llhadamanthus,  that  reached  their  destined  haven  in 
spite  of  the  op])osition  of  the  winds  and  the  waves* 

With  a  population  so  rapidly  increasing,  and  so  eztenavelj 
scattered,  over  boundless  tracts  of  fertility,  which  are  ever  luiing 
the  wanderers  to  plunge  still  deeper  into  their  solitudes,  it  it 
difficult  to  frame  institutions,  whether  civil  or  religious,  that  can 
keep  up  with  a  growth  so  sudden  and  so  imrestricted. 

The  religious  instruction  of  Europe  is  stationary,  like  its 
population.  America,  to  remain  even  nominally  Christian,  re- 
quires an  advancement  of  religion,  like  its  victorious  pn^ress 
during  the  first  centuries  of  primitive  Christianity.  In  Revivals 
of  Religion,  the  Americans  have  found  a  supply  adequate  to  their 
peculiar  wants.  And  if,  with  them,  the  progress  of  population  is 
wonderful,  the  multiplication  of  vital  Christians  is  more  wonderfiil 
still. 

The  nature  of  American  Revivals  is  well  described  within  a 
short  compass,  in  a  passage  which  occurs  in  the  interesting  life  of 
Mr.  Brucn ;  a  publication  which,  in  this  country,  contained  soiae 
of  the  earliest  notices  of  Revivals. 

'Mr.  Whelpley's  Church/  Mr.  Bruen  writes,  'is  now  greatlj 
revived^  and  many  arc  under  powerful  exercises  of  conriction,  and 
some  rejoicing  in  hope.  Vou  will  understand  the  whole  matter,  if 
you  read  what  Edwards  has  written.  The  occasion  of  this  change  ia 
the  Wall  Street  church,  has  been  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  which 
was  appointed  in  view  of  the  desolations  of  Zion.  They  sent  tbeir 
ChriHtian  salutatiuns  and  invitations  to  other  churches,  that  they  m^t 
join  with  them  in  this  obser^'ance  and  free«will  offering  unto  the  Lord. 
On  the  day  appointed,  the  church  was  filled  to  overflow,  for  aiz  sue- 
cessive  hours  without  intermission.  The  greater  part  who  were  theie* 
we  may  hope  the  grace  of  conversion  had  taught  to  pray.  The 
ministi^rs,  in  succession,  gave  a  brief  view  of  the  state  ox  religion  in 
their  respective  churches,  and  prayed  for  an  effusion  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Such  breathless,  solemn  attention  I  can  scarcely  hope  again  to 
see  in  my  life  among  so  vast  a  multitude.  When  Mr.  Wnelpley 
arose  to  address  this  assembly,  in  that  unpremeditated  manner  to 
which  he  wns  not  used  in  the  pulpit,  there  was  in  his  whole  aspeet  a 
bearing  and  significance,  like  that  of  a  man  consciously  in  the  presence 
of  €rod.  His  look  was  that  of  one  worn  out  by  earlv  laboor ;  the 
beamings  of  his  countenance  were  those  of  a  Christian  wno  beheld  the 
throbbings  of  many  Christian  hearts.  The  very  tones  of  his  viace,  if 
he  had  spoken  in  an  unknown  tongue,  would  have  been  inteUisible. 
He  presented  to  the  audience  the  desolations  of  that  portion  of  the 


Sprague  on  Revivals  of  Religion.  289 

field  of  Zion  which  he  cultivated.  He  besought  them  to  regard  the 
condition  of  that  church,  which^  as  a  fruitful  bough,  had  sent  its 
branches  over  the  wall,  which  were  now  bearing  fruit  all  around,  while 
at  the  root  there  was  decay  of  moistness  and  verdure.  The  appeal  was 
ao  instinct  with  energy  and  pathos,  that  aged  men  lifted  up  their  voice 
and  wept.  This  was  one  of  the  most  solemn  seasons  I  ever  witnessed. 
A  blessing  has  manifestly  and  immediately  followed.' 

Mr.  Bruen,  in  the  above  quotation,  refers  to  Mr.  Jonathan 
Edwards,  and  with  justice,  as  the  standard  authority  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Revivals.  AH  works  on  this  subject,  written  in  America, 
f*e-suppose  an  acquaintance  with  his  writings.  Indeed,  when 
rovidence  was  preparing  a  new  opening  for  the  spread  of  genuine 
religion,  that  admirable  divine  appeared  raised  up  on  purpose  to 
separate  the  precious  from  the  vile,  by  applying  tne  test  of  Scrip- 
ture to  the  various  appearances  of  conversions.  Proceeding  on 
the  principles  of  inductive  philosophy,  he  formed  his  judgement 
of  causes  by  the  fullest  examination  of  their  effects,  and  has  thus 
bequeathed  the  most  valuable  legacy  to  after  times ;  since  the  later 
revivals  differ  from  those  witnessed  by  Edwards,  only  in  having 
a  wider  range  and  more  frequent  recuriience. 

The  later  American  Revivals  have  hitherto  been  known  in  Bri- 
tain chiefly  by  detached  and  broken  accounts  of  them,  occasionally 
extracted  from  newspapers  and  magazines.  Though  received  by 
some  persons  with  the  interest  due  to  the  importance  of  the  subject, 
these  distant  and  imperfect  rumours  were  treated  by  others  with  a 
mixture  of  indifference  and  incredulity.  What  all  seemed  to 
require,  were  facts.     At  this  time,  '  the  History  and  Character 

*  of  American  Revivals'*  by  Mr.  Col  ton,  appeared:  *  a  work,'  as 
has  been  remarked,  '  of  which  the  most  objectionable  part  is  the 

*  title-page,^  which  was   probably  '  conferred  upon  it  by  some 

*  bookseller,^  not  much  to  the  advantage  of  the  publication  itself, 
as  it  led  to  the  disappointment  of  many  readers,  and  very  unfairly 
to  the  Author,  who  avows  in  the  preface,  that,  for  *  a  general 

*  historical  narrative,'  he  was  '  altogether  unfurnished  with  the 

*  necessary  documents.'  Mr.  Colton's  is,  in  truth,  an  able  and 
spirited  work,  fiill  of  original  thought  and  of  heart  stirring  views 
of  the  approaching  glories  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  It  may  be 
80  far  considered  as  historical,  that  it  traces  the  influence  of  Re- 
ligious Revivals  in  America,  at  the  present  day,  to  the  noble 
and  devoted  spirit  of  the  '  Pilgrim  Fathers'  of  New  England, 
who  followed  the  call  of  duty  and  of  Providence  to  a  land  un- 
known, and  who  accounted  the  promises  of  God  a  sufficient 
portion  for  themselves  and  their  posterity. 

*  Indeed,'  observes  Mr.  Colton, '  when  I  have  looked  at  the  flight  of  the 
Puritans,  as  they  have  been  ignominiously  termed, — or  of  our  Pilgrim 
Fathers,  as  we  have  reverently  called  them, — from  these  shores  to  that 
far-off,  uninviting,  inhospitable  continent,  as  then  it  was, — I  have  at 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  N  K 


390  Sprague  on  Revivab  of  Religwfim 

the  same  time  been  reminded  of  the  woman  in  the  Apocalypse,  xfho, 
her  child  being  caught  up  to  God  and  Hia  throncj  herself  fled  into  the 
wilderness,  where  she  haid  a  place  prepared  for  her  of  God^  that  thej 
should  feed  her  there.  God  nas  indeed  brought  a  rine  out  of  Egypt, 
and  cast  out  the  heathen,  and  planted  it.  He  has  prepared  rocnn  before 
it,  and  caused  it  to  take  deep  root.  And  lo !  it  nas  filled  the  land. 
The  hills  are  covered  with  tne  shadow  of  it,  and  the  boughs  thereof 
are  like  the  goodly  cedars.  She  hath  sent  out  her  boughs  unto  the 
sea,  and  her  branches  unto  the  river.'  Am,  Revivals,  2d.  ed.,  pp.  42— 
43. 

One  thing  may  be  remarked  of  Mr.  CoIton''s  book,  that  it  is 
evidently  the  work  of  one  who  has  seen  religion  under  more 
favourable  circumstances  than  we  have  had  the  opportunity  to  do. 
His  views  are  too  glowing  for  our  colder  climate,  as  yet ;  but  Mr. 
Colton  is  on  the  progressive  and  victorious  side.  What  is  an 
over-estimate  now,  will  become  the  sober  truth  in  the  lapse  of 
twenty  or  thirty  fleeting  years.  In  the  prophetic  writing  the 
present  and  the  future  are  blended,  for  the  commandment  is  gone 
forth,  and  the  corresponding  event  must  follow.  The  following 
observations  on  Public  Opinion  are  as  eloquent  as  they  are  just. 
The  conclusion  is  not  altogether  applicable  to  our  country :  we 
wish  it  may  be  so  to  America. 

'  If  there  be  anything  in  this  lower  creation  with  which  men  hare 
to  do,  and  which  has  to  do  with  men,  and  yet  too  ghostly  to  be  made 
the  subject  of  a  definition,  it  is  Public  Opinion*  Though  we  cannot 
tell  what  it  is,  no  one  doubts  its  existence :  though  it  does  not  present 
itself  in  palpable  forms,  all  men  feel  it.  Its  secret  and  invisible  in- 
fluence operates  on  every  mind,  and  modifies  every  one's  conduct.  It 
has  ubiquity,  and  a  species  of  omniscience ;  and  there  is  no  power  on 
earth  so  stern  in  its  character,  so  steady,  so  energetic,  so  irresistible  in 
its  sway.  £vcry  other  power  must  do  homage  at  its  altar,  and  ask 
leave  to  be.  The  thrones  of  kings  stand  by  its  permission,  and  faXL  at 
its  beck.  It  is  a  power  thut  lives,  while  men  die,— and  builds  and 
fortifies  its  entrenchments  on  the  graves  of  the  generations  of  this 
world.  With  every  substantial  improvement  of  society,  itself  improves; 
with  every  advancement  of  society,  itself  plants  its  station  there,  and 
builds  upon  it,  and  never  yichls.  Time  and  the  revolutions  of  this 
world  are  alike  and  equally  its  auxiliaries,  and  contribute  by  their  in- 
fluence to  its  maturity  and  increasing  ^ngour.  And  this  is  the  power 
which  has  adopted  Christianity,  and  sets  itself  up  its  advocate  and 
defender,  in  the  hands  of  an  Almighty  Providence !'  Am,  Revicah, 
2d.  ed.,  p.  143—144. 

In  Dr.  Sprague'^s  "  Lectures  on  Revivals,"*^  we  possess  a  work 
of  the  highest  authority.  Dr.  Woods  may  be  considered  as 
speaking  not  only  his  own  sentiments,  but  the  opinion  of  the 
American  divines  in  general,  when  he  writes :  *  I  regard  it  as  a 


*  circumstance  highly  auspicious  to  the  cause  of  revivals,  and  to 
'  all  the  interests  of  religion,  tha 


-  —  -  —  —  —  _  ^ 

that  the  Author  has,  through  the 


Spragne  on  Revivals  of  Religion.  291 

*  ffrace  of  God,  been  enabled  to  write  and  preach  a  series  of 

*  lectures  so  judicious,  candid,  and  impressive,  and  what  is  still 

*  more  important,  so  scriptural ;  and  that  he  has  consented  to  give 

*  them  to  the  public'  The  only  fault  we  have  to  find  with  Dr. 
Sprague,  is,  that  he  has  no  faults.  It  is  the  business  of  a  critic 
to  find  fault,  but,  as  far  as  Dr.  Sprague  is  concerned,  our  occu- 
pation is  gone.  As  this  work  is  likely  to  become  classical  upon  the 
subject,  and,  both  from  its  own  merits  and  from  the  attractive  form 
in  which  it  is  here  presented  to  the  British  public,  with  two  ad- 
mirable essays  prefixed  by  Mr.  James  and  Mr.  Redford,  promises 
to  have  as  general  a  circulation  in  this  country,  as  it  has  obtained 
in  America,  there  is  the  less  need  that  we  should  make  many  ex- 
tracts from  it ;  but  a  few  portions  we  cannot  resist  the  pleasure  of 
citing.  The  summary  of  former  revivals  is  excellent  for  its  brevity 
and  clearness. 

'  You  have  already  seen,  that,  instead  of  being  of  recent  origin,  they 
go  back  to  an  early  period  in  the  Jewish  dispensation  ;  and,  passing 
from  the  records  of  inspiration,  we  find  that  revivals  have  existed,  with 
a  greater  or  less  degree  of  power,  especially  in  the  later  periods  of  the 
Christian  Church.     This  was  emphatically  true  during  the  period  of 
the  reformation  in  the  sixteenth  century.     Germany^  France,  Switzer- 
land, Holland,  Denmark,  the  Low  Countries  and  Britain,  were  severally 
visited  by  copious  showers  of  Divine  influence.     During  the  season  of 
the  plague  in  London  in  1665,  there  was  a  very  general  awakening ;  in 
which  many  thousands  are  said  to  have  been  hopefully  born  of  the 
Spirit.     In  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  various  parts  of 
Scotland  and  the  north  of  Ireland  were  blessed,  at  different  periods, 
with  signal  effusions  of  Divine  grace,  in  which  great  multitudes  gave 
evidence   of  being   brought   out   of  darkness  into   marvellous  light. 
During  the  first  half  of  the  last  century,  under  the  ministrations  of 
Whitfield,  Brainerd,  Edwards,  Davies,  the  Tennanti,  and  many  other 
of  the  hoh'est  and  greatest  men  whose  labours  have  blessed  the  church, 
there  was  a  succession  of  revivals  in  this  country,  which  caused  the 
wilderness  to  blossom  as  the  rose,  and  the  desert  to  put  on  the  appear- 
ance of  the  garden  ef  the  Lord.  And  when  these  revivals  declined,  and 
the  church  settled  back  into  the  sluggish  state  from  which  she  had 
been  raised,  then  commenced  her  decline  in  purity,  in  discipline,  in 
doctrine,  in  all  with  which  her  prosperity  is  intimately  connected. 
And  this  state  of  things  continued,  only  becoming  worse  and  worse, 
until,  a  little  before  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  the  spirit  of 
revivals  again  burst  forth,  and  has  since  that  period  richly  blessed, 
especially,  our  American  Church.'     Sprague  on  Revivals,  pp.  66,  67. 

The  following  is  a  conclusive  answer  to  objections  which  pre- 
vail still  more  in  Britain,  than  in  America. 

'  But  let  us  enquire  a  little  further,  why  the  old  and  quick  way,  as 
it  is  often  represented,  of  becoming  religious,  is  the  best.  If  you  mean 
that  you  prefer  that  state  of  religion  in  which  the  dews  of  Divine 

N  n2 


292  Sprague  on  Rerieah  of 

grace  continually  descend,  and  Christians  are  alwa^  consistent  and 
active,  and  there  is  a  constant  succession  of  ooQTeraions  from  amosg 
the  impenitent,  to  the  more  sudden  and  rapid  operation  of  God's  Spirit 
— be  it  so ;  there  is  as  truly  a  revival  in  tne  one  case  as  in  the  other. 
But  the  state  of  things  wKich  this  objection  contemplates,  is  that  is 
which  religion  is  kept  in  the  back-ground,  and  only  here  and  there  one, 
at  distant  periods,  comes  forward  to  confess  Christ,  and  the  chnrcfa  ii 
habitually  in  a  languishing  state.  And  is  such  a  state  of  things  to  be 
preferred  above  that  in  which  the  salvation  of  the  soul  becomes  the  sU- 
engrossing  object,  and  even  hundreds,  within  a  little  period,  come  snl 
own  themselves  on  the  Lord's  side  ?'     pp.  57,  58. 

There  arc  so  many  passages  that  would  tempt  citation,  that  the 
difRculty  lies  in  selection.  In  turning  over  the  pages,  the 
following  useful  caution  respecting  accounts  of  lleviTals  meet  our 
eye. 

'  They  are  \iTittcn  in  the  midst  of  strong  excitementj  when  the  mind 
is  most  m  danger  of  mistaking  shadows  for  substances ;  when  itsstroog 
hopes  that  much  is  about  to  be  done,  are  easily  exchanged  for  a  con- 
viction that  much  has  been  actually  accomplished.  Hence,  all  who  are 
8U])poscd  to  appear  more  serious  than  usuiil,  are  reckoned  as  sabjecti 
of  conviction ;  and  all  who  profess  the  slightest  change  of  feeling,  are 
set  down  as  converts.'     p.  243. 

We  need  not  add,  that  the  very  reverse  is  the  character  of  Dr. 
Spraguc^s  own  volume,  and  that  if  he  errs  on  any  side,  it  is  on 
that  of  over-caution ;  a  tendency  which  will  not  be  displeasing  to 
many  British  readers.  Their  caution,  however,  and  Dr.  Sprague^s, 
may,  jKjrhaps,  be  of  an  entirely  different  nature.  While  they  may 
have  a  secret  and  ill-dcfincd  distrust  of  the  work  of  revival  itself, 
he  only  distrusts  some  of  its  too  florid  appearances.  He  knows 
that  while  the  servants  of  their  Divine  Master  are  employed  in 
sowing  the  good  seed,  the  enemy  will  be  equally  busy  in  spread- 
ing far  and  wide  his  tares.  But,  if  Dr.  Sprague  is  full  of  caution, 
he  is  also  fiill  of  hope,  as  appears  by  the  following  quotation. 

'  If  you  read  the  prophetical  parts  of  Scripture  attentivelv*  yoa 
cannot,  I  think,  but  be  struck  with  the  evidence  that,  as  the  Millennial 
day  approaches,  the  operations  of  Divine  grace  are  to  be  increasingly 
rapid  and  powerful.  Many  of  these  predictions  resiiectine  the  state  of 
religion  under  the  Christian  dispensation,  it  is  manifest,  nave  not  yet 
had  their  complete  fulfilment;  and  they  not  only  justify  the  belief  that 
these  glorious  scenes  which  we  see  passing,  really  are  of  Divine  oriffin,  as 
they  claim  to  be,  but  that  similar  scenes,  still  more  glorious,  still  more 
wonderful,  are  to  be  expected,  as  the  Messiah  travels  in  the  greatness 
of  His  strength,  towards  a  universal  triumph.  I  cannot  but  think 
that  many  of  the  ius])ircd  predictions  in  respect  to  the  progress  of  re- 
ligioji  must  appear  overstrained,  unless  we  admit  that  the  church  is  to  see 
greater  things  than  she  has  yet  seen,  and  that  they  fairly  warrant  the 
conclusion,  that  succeeding  generations,  rejoicing  in  the  brighter  light 


Sprague  on  Revivals  of  Ueligioru  298 

of  God's  trutb,  and  the  richer  manifestations  of  his  grace,  may  look 
back  even  upon  this  blessed  era  of  revivals^  as  a  period  of  comparative 
darkness.'    p.  54 — 55. 

Cr.  Sprague  bears  abundant  testimony  to  the  benignant  influ- 
ence exerted  by  Revivals  both  on  the  body  and  the  mind.  He 
speaks  of  them  as  renovating,  not  only  the  moral,  but  the  physi- 
cal aspect  of  a  community.  The  mind  is  at  once  awakened  and 
invigorated  ;  and  the  soul  first  rendered  alive  to  the  concerns  of 
Religion,  becomes  afterwards  earnest  in  the  general  pivsuit  of 
truth.     *  We  find',  he  says,  *that,  in  our  own  country  at  least, 

*  many  of  the  most  active  promoters  of  useful  knowledge  at  the 

*  present  day,  are  to  be  found  amongst  those  who  have  been  prac- 
^tically  taught  the  great  lesson  of  human  responsibility  in  a 
•revival  of  Religion \  Nor  can  it  be  otherwise.  When  the 
principle  of  Religion  is  feeble  in  the  soul,  it  may,  indeed,  impede, 
rather  than  further  the  exercise  of  the  intellectual  faculties.  It  is 
sufficient  to  cheat  the  usual  motives  of  exertion,  vanity,  pride, 
ambition ;  but  it  supplies  no  new  and  predominating  power  to  oc- 
cupy their  place.  It  is  merely  sufficient  to  maintain  a  struggle, 
but  not  to  acquire  a  victory.  But  when  the  soul,  by  a  strong 
faith,  dwells  in  near  and  frequent  communion  with  the  Father  of 
Spirits,  such  loftier  intercourse  and  higher  exercise  of  its  facul- 
ties, must  needs  be  sustained  by  an  infusion  of  new  life  from 
above ;  and  the  healthftd  power  thus  acquired,  cannot  be  restrict- 
ed to  heavenly  objects  alone,  but  will  manifest  its  increase  of 
energy  in  the  pursuit  of  Truth,  whether  secular  or  divine. 

It  IS  satisfactory  to  observe  the  harmony  that  prevails  between 
Dr.  Sprague,  Dr.  Woods,  and  the  twenty  other  divines  who,  in 
this  volume,  have  united  their  contributions  in  the  support  of 
genuine  Revivals.  All  of  them  appear  convinced  that  a  new  and 
mighty  energy  is  at  work  on  the  face  of  society.  All  are  aware, 
likewise,  of  the  deep  corruption  and  exceeding  deceitfulness  of 
the  human  heart,  which  so  often  changes  a  blessing  into  a  curse. 
All  are  deeply  persuaded,  that  the  only  way  to  preserve  the  power 
of  Revivals,  is  sedulously  to  maintain  their  purity.  With  many 
such  watchmen  on  the  walls  of  Zion,  we  may  hope  that  the  de- 
vices of  the  enemy  will  be  frustrated ;  and  we  heartily  participate 
in  the  expectations  of  Dr.  Sprague. 

'  Brethren^  I  anticipate  for  the  cause  of  revivals  a  glorious  triumph ; 
and  one  ground  of  this  expectation  is,  that  the  friends  of  revivals  will 
labour  diligentlv  for  the  promotion  of  their  purity.  I  cast  my  eye 
towards  the  Millennial  age,  and  I  witness  these  scenes  of  Divine  love 
and  mercy  going  forward  with  such  beauty  and  power,  that  the  eyes  of 
angels  are  tiumed  towards  them  with  constantly  mcreasing  delight.  I 
see  the  pure  gold  shining  forth  in  its  brightness,  and  the  dross  thrown 
aside,  and  estimated  as  nothing.  I  see  the  chaff  burnt  up  in  the  fire^ 
or  flying  off  on  the  winds,  while  the  wheat  is  pure,  and  ripe,  and  ready 


3^  Spngne  rm,  Rericals  of  Reiigknu 

f.jr  t£«  eiTz^^.     I  «e  C=.r»C2ans  cmerT  vliere  aKoperating  with  Gud 
f'^"  ti«  Ml-Ti.::  .n  '.-f  s»2.  is  the  rcrr  wmrs  ke  ftas  hiniaelf  marked  out; 


azi  •»*-:-■=  ic  r-  -.r-  ■>-:  U>  rlca  ttle&siifs  oo  the  diarchy  the  draith 
srr.  :•  ''-i^JL.  L.T  'JLj^'x^-^Mtlz^  and  praises  to  hhn  in  the  highest.  Mar 
Gi«i  :-  i.-.<^rcT  bi«*ea  t^:t  blessed  eoosammstioii.  And  may  yon  and  I, 
'ariivir.   r.-e  y-^rmit.^  to  libc'cr  in  his  canw,  coant  it  an  honour  that  irr 


at^  7*r.r.>rrd  t'>  direct  c^ar  everts  tovruds  this  high  end,  and  to  inti- 
czzAie  'vr.ii  conf  denct  a  jk-nocs  result.*     p.  259. 

In  :;;e  prtyinr.inir}  c<-3T5  of  Mr.  Redfbrd  and  3Ir.  James,  the 
sur j:-c:  *  f  Dr.  Sprajre"*  work  is  examined  in  its  bearing  upon  tbe 
stare  cf  thing-;  ic  this  (x-iinny. 

'  Tr.«  fact,'  iAnerres  Mr.  Redtord.  'nov  reDdered  unqnestionaUe,  thit 
the  Cr.nstian  cii>e  i».  l.:  the  present  moment,  ad\'anciiu;  w^ith  a  mudi 
moTK  rapid  ;.:jTch  in  the  great  Western  continent,  requires  of  os  it 
hor::e,  d  r«:vi>:*.  n  A  uur  resource^,  and  a  comparison  of  our  methods 
wi:h  thuQse  «  hich  hjiVc  beva  elaetrhere  fbond  more  saocessfuL' 

In  prosecuiinff  tlii?  revision.  ^Ir.  Redford  enters  into  some 
Ter\'  valuiiMe  ecclesiastica:  statistics,  according  to  which  he  reckons, 
that  the  churches  of  England  are  doubling  their  numbers  in  the 
course  of  twenty  years.  Such  computations  must  vary  very  much 
in  different  parts  of  the  countrj'.  We  fear  that  we  could  pdnt 
out  di>t7icts  where  the  numbers  arc  stationary ;  some  where  they 
are  even  diminishing.  At  best,  it  is  obvious  to  the  most  super- 
ficial observer,  that  the  result  in  no  vise  corresponds  to  the  mesni 
empl^'ved.  This  fact  is  very  powerfully  stated  in  the  £ssay  by 
Mr.  James. 

'  I  may  be  in  errur,  Lut  it  is  nir  opinion,  that,  compared  with  the 
prodiptjiib  amount  of  iu:itrumentality  employed  in  this  age,  the  quantity 
of  spiritual  effect  wa»  never  so  small.  Means  must  now  be  counted 
on  no  lower  a  scale  than  that  of  Millions;  the  gospel  sermons  preached, 
the  bibles  circulated,  the  tracts  d«':>tnbnted,  the  lessons  taught,  mnst 
all  be  reckoned  by  millions.  Does  the  work  of  conversion  then,  I  ask, 
keep  pace  with  such  means  employed  to  effect  it  ?  Upon  a  moderate 
computation,  fifteen  (»r  twenty  thousand  men  of  truly  pious  minds  and 
evangelical  sentiments  are  every  sabbath  day  publishing  the  glad  tidings 
of  salvation  in  the  united  kingdom,  seconded  by  myriads  of  devoted 
Sunday -school  teachers,  and  thousands  of  holy  men  an4  women,  who 
visit  the  cottages  of  the  poor  with  religious  tracts,  and  for  the  purpose 


power 

attended  the  sermons  of  Beveridgc  and  Romainc  and  Grimshaw,  within 
the  pale  of  the  Establishment,  and  those  of  Wesley  and  Whitfield  with- 
out It.' 

How  is  this  to  be  accounted  for?  Is  there  anything  in  the 
character  of  American  preaching,  that  will  explain  its  more  suc- 
cessful results  ?     Mr.  Kcdford  says : 


Sprague  on  Revivals  of  Religion.  296 

:  '  We  have  had  opportunities  of  judging  of  the  effects  of  American 
prcachiug  upon  English  hearers ;  and  it  is  now,  J  believe^  universally  ad- 
mitted, that  it  is  neither  so  efficient  nor  so  acceptable  as  that  of  our 
own  ministers.  I  mention  this  without  the  slightest  wish  to  depreciate 
the  one  class,  or  to  exalt  the  other.  It  is  here  stated  simply  as  a  fact. 
Men  whose  preaching  in  America  is  never  without  effect,  and  who  can 
ftttract  the  largest  assemblies,  here,  are  all  but  powerless,  and  leave 
oar  audiences  wondering  what  it  is  that  makes  such  preaching  so  much 
more  powerful  in  America  than  in  England.' 

One  obvious  reason  is,  that  the  American  sermons  are  too  in- 
tellectual for  the  majority  of  an  English  audience.  In  America, 
ms  in  Scotland,  the  hearers  are  all  educated,  and  the  preacher 
trusts  that  he  can  carry  his  point,  if  he  convinces  the  understand- 
iDg.  In  England,  a  preacher,  to  make  an  impression,  must  reach 
the  heart,  if  he  can ;  at  least,  he  must  touch  the  feelings.  The 
intellect  of  numbers  is  dormant,  from  the  want  of  a  better  system 
of  national  education.  A  more  important  reason  is,  that  an  Ame- 
rican audience  is  prepared  for  the  preacher.  Their  Revivals 
have  rendered  their  congregations  prayerful.  Give  an  American 
preacher  praying  hearers,  and  we  doubt  not  he  would  produce 
abundant  effect.  We  are  acauainted  with  an  instance  in  proof. 
A  congregation  in  the  west  of  Scotland,  struck  with  the  few  ac- 
cessions to  their  numbers,  and  fearing  that  the  Spirit  of  God  was 
withdrawing  his  influence,  commenced  a  series  of  prayer  meetings 
for  a  Revival  in  their  church,  and  especially  in  the  hearts  of  the 
young.  Their  circumstances,  in  many  respects,  did  not  seem 
prosperous ;  their  minister  was  laid  aside  by  a  severe,  and  ulti- 
mately fatal  stroke.  An  American  clergyman  who  had  arrived 
in  Scotland,  simply  to  urge  some  legal  claims,  hearing  of  the  ill- 
ness of  the  minister  and  the  distress  of  the  church,  though  of  a 
different  denomination,  offered  his  services,  and  was  accepted. 
His  preaching  was  not  considered  as  peculiar,  but  the  result  was 
unexampled  for  many  years  in  that  part  of  the  country.  A  Re- 
vival took  place ;  the  prayers  of  the  congregation  were  fully 
answered,  and  the  young  became  the  especial  subjects  of  this 
work  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  The  fruits  of  these  conversions  are 
as  yet  (several  years  having  elapsed)  considered  as  permanent. 
More  were  added  to  the  church  in  a  few  weeks,  than  had  been 
joined  to  it  in  several  years.  But  the  country  around  was  not 
sufficiently  sensible  of  the  blessing.  Few  turned  aside  to  ^  behold 
the  great  sight  \  The  monuments  of  Divine  Grace  remain,  but 
they  remain  singular  instances  of  the  prevalence  of  prayer. 

Men  look  upon  Revivals  as  some  strange  and  questionable 
work.  We  are  so  much  accustomed  to  a  round  of  ineffectual 
preaching,  that,  when  Christianity  comes  in  her  true  shape,  open- 
ing the  eyes  of  the  blind,  and  giving  life  to  the  dead,  we  are 
ready  to  suspect  her  as  an  impostor,  and  conclude  that  this  is  not 


296  Sprague  on  Bevivak  of  Religion. 

the  religion  to  which  we  have  been  accustomed.  But  the  truth 
is,  we  are  acquainted  with  Christianity  in  a  mutilated  form.  We 
recognise  it  as  a  system  of  Truths,  but  we  do  not  experience  it  u 
the  energy  of  Immortality.  But  if  Christianity  is  *'  the  power  of 
God  unto  salvation"^,  there  roust  be  some  great  omission,  when 
this  power  is  no  longer  manifested.  That  omission,  we  need  not 
doubt,  is  the  restraining  of  prayer.  To  nreach  the  Gospel  alone, 
is  but  half  the  Gospel.  Tne  Truth  itself  informs  us,  that  men 
will  neither  hear  nor  see,  till  God  unstops  their  ears,  and  open 
their  eyes.  But,  though  nothing  can  be  done  without  a  Divine 
Power,  that  Infinite  Energy  is  set  in  motion  by  prayer.  AD 
things  in  Scripture  are  matters  of  duty.  The  aoctrine  of  the 
moral  inability,  or,  in  other  words,  of  the  unwUUngnesa  of  man 
to  think  either  a  good  thought  or  to  perform  a  right  action,  does 
not  leave  him,  in  any  case,  in  helpless  inactivity.  The  remedy  is 
pointed  out  at  the  same  moment  as  the  disease.  *^  Lord,  if  Tnoa 
wilt.  Thou  canst  make  me  clean "",  is  the  cure  for  the  disease  of  the 
mind,  as,  in  the  Saviouf  s  time,  it  was  the  remedy  for  the  diseases 
of  the  body.  ^^  Be  thou  whole'*',  is  still  the  perpetual  answer  of 
prayer.  We  have  cited  Mr.  James's  remark,  that  the  result  is 
becoming  less  and  less,  in  proportion  to  the  means  employedL 
Surely  there  is  something  deserving  of  deep  attention  in  God's 
thus  seeming  to  withdraw  his  efficient  concurrence  from  the  ase 
of  means.  He  will  be  ^'  inquired  of  concerning  this  of  the  Hooae 
of  IsracP.  We  do  not  doubt  that  this  solemn  pause  is  prepara- 
tory to  a  great  awakening  of  prayer.  The  power  of  Jehovsh 
seems  to  slumber  for  a  season,  that  from  every  part  of  the  earth  a 
cry  from  his  believing  people  may  incessantly  arise:  *' Awake, 
awake,  put  on  strength,  ()  arm  of  the  Lord ;  awake,  as  in  the 
ancient  days,  in  the  generations  of  old.*^  God  is  now  teaching 
his  people  a  lesson  which,  it  may  be  hoped,  will  last  them  while 
the  world  endures.  It  is,  that  prayer  is  the  key  of  all  things, 
and  that,  in  proportion  as  we  ask,  so  shall  we  receive.  The  pro- 
mises belong  to  faith  in  all  the  immensity  of  their  magnitude, 
and  we  enter  not  into  their  fulness,  only  from  the  fiiilure  of  £uth 
and  of  prayer.  God  "cannot  deny  Himself.**  We  are  not 
straitened  in  Him  :  we  are  straitened  in  ourselves.  Christ- 
ianity was  founded  upon  prayer.  Before  the  disciples  were  sent 
out  on  their  mission,  the  Divine  Founder  of  our  religion  passed 
the  night  in  prayer.  The  prayer  of  agony  preceded  the  Cruci- 
fixion, the  all-finished  work  upon  the  Cross. 

IVayer  for  the  descent  of  the  Spirit,  preceded  the  general  pub- 
lication of  the  Gospel.  Prayer  without  ceasing  animated  and 
rendered  effectual  the  ceaseless  labours  of  Paul.  Far,  then,  from 
considering  it  as  a  dark  mystery,  or  evil  omen,  that  the  result 
is  not  proportioned  to  the  means,  we  would  consider  it  as  only  an 
incentive  to  constant,  fervent,  confident  intercession  and  supplica- 


Spraguc  on  Revivals  of  Religion.  297' 

tion  on  the  part  of  the  Church.     The  Promises  have  long  lain 
dormant  through  our  unbelief;  yet  they  are  sufficiently  ample  to 
warrant  our  expectation  of  the  moral  subjugation  of  the  world, 
——the  difiusion  of  the  light  of  Christianity  as  wide  as  the  light  of 
day, — the  removal  of  the  veil  that  is  spread  over  the  face  of  all 
nations.    The  secret  of  success  consists  in  expecting  great  things. 
*Tho8e  who  expect  little,  receive  little :  those  who  expect  much, 
must  receive  much,  if  they  expect  in  faith,  for  their  prayers  will 
be  in  proportion  to  their  expectations.     In  the  worst  times  of 
Spiritual  coldness  and  decay,  men  obtain  what  they  pray  for ;  for 
we  roust  recollect,  that  the  meaning  of  men'*s  prayers  is  inter- 
preted by  their  views.     If  they  ask  for  an  enlargement,  or  a  Re- 
▼iyal  in  the  Church,  they  must  interpret  their  own  words ;  and 
in  general,  according  to  their  sentiments  of  what  they  conceive 
to  be  the  fitting  progress  of  M essiah^s  kingdom,  will  be  the  answer  to 
their  petitions.  Some  persons  wish  that  kingdom  to  be  advanced  with- 
out observation,  with  silent  and  almost  imperceptible  accession  of 
new  members  from  time  to  time,  without  noise  or  opposition ;  and 
they  have  in  general  what  they  desire.     We  have  heard  of  others 
who  have  fixed  their  wishes  at  fifteen  or  twenty  converts  a  year ; 
and  it  has  been  done  unto  them,  apparently,  according  to  their 
wish.      The   American  ministers,  in  many  instances,  pray  for 
Revivals,  understanding  by  that  term,  periodical  awakenings  to 
religion ;  and  their  petitions  are  answered  beyond  their  expecta- 
tion.    There  are  a  few  whose  minds  are  beginning  to  aspire  after 
still  higher  blessings;  who  would  seek,  by  pfayer  without  ceasing, 
for  one  long,  uninterrupted,  and  never-ending  Revival ;  and  they, 
when  many  become  like-minded  with  them,  will  doubtless  obtain 
their  request,  if  they  faint  not,  but  continue  instant  in  prayer. 

With  respect  to  Revivals,  then,  we  consider  prayer  as  the 
great  means  to  be  used.  Prayer  of  itself,  where  the  means  are 
prepared,  would  perform  all  that  is  wanting.  Prayer  will  open 
the  mouths  of  ministers,  and  the  ears  and  hearts  of  congregations. 
Still,  with  respect  to  instrumental  means,  something  may  be  effect- 
ed by  novelty.  Not  so  much  through  the  more  vivid  impression  pro- 
duced upon  the  mind  of  the  hearer,  as  that,  by  its  unexpectedness, 
it  forces  those  who  have  long  sat  careless  and  sermon-proof,  to 
make  anew  their  choice  between  death  and  life,  and  to  make  that 
choice  under  more  favourable  circumstances,  when  many  prayers 
are  abroad,  and  the  Spirit  of  God  is  moving  upon  the  hearts  of 
men.  And  for  the  same  reason  that  the  appeal  to  the  consci- 
ence, to  be  effective,  must  be  unusual,  it  must  also  be  prolonged, 
that  the  doubtful  preference  may  be  fixed  into  an  unalterable 
choice.  As  to  what  has  been  termed  the  machinery  of  Revivals, 
we  set  small  value  upon  it ;  and  in  this  we  appear  to  have  the 
authority  of  the  most  judicious  of  the  American  divines  upon 
our  side.     The  Scriptures  themselves  contain  all  the  measures 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  o  o 


296  Sprague  on  Revivah  of  Religkm. 

which  are  desirable  for  their  own  poUication.  There  are,  ia 
effect,  but  two  measures  necessary  for  the  converrion  of  the  world; 
the  universal  publication  of  the  word,  and  jyrayer,  without  eev- 
ing,  that  the  word  should  be  accompanied  with  the  Spirit. 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  ascertain  to  what  extent  the  neoeHity 
of  a  Revival  among  ourselves  is  recogniied  and  felt.  We  have 
found  that  the  taught,  in  many  instances,  are  more  aenmUe  of 
existing  deficiencies  than  the  teachers.  Too  many  good  xwi 
seem  sufficiently  resigned  to  the  unproductiveness  of  their  owa 
exertions.  Others  are  discontented  with  themselves  and  their 
situation :  they  have  an  uneasy  conviction  that  all  is  not  right, 
but  never  pursue  their  inquiries  to  any  assured  and  final  concb- 
sion.  A  few  have  done  their  utmost  to  revive  the  work  of  the 
Lord  in  the  midst  of  our  land.  We  may  refer  for  an  instance  to 
the  successful  labours  of  Mr.  James,  of  Birmingham,  the  writer 
of  one  of  these  introductory  essays,  and  who,  in  the  pcsent 
volume,  is  ably  supported  by  his  friend,  Mr.  Redfbrd.  May  He 
who  *^  has  the  residue  of  the  spirit,^  raise  up  many  such  fiuthfbl 
heralds  to  proclaim  the  glad  tidings  of  the  redemption  of  the 
church,  and  of  the  restoration  of  Zion  ! 

We  have  spoken  of  America  as  needing  extraordinary  met- 
sures  of  religious  instruction,  so  as  to  overtake  the  wants  of  an 
ever-advancing  population.  Britain,  if  reli^on  is  not  to  dedine 
among  us,  will  soon,  on  her  part,  require  a  new  infusicm  of  spit- 
tual  life.  A  rapid  change  is  taking  place  in  the  mind  of^the 
country.  Other  objects  and  pursuits  are  presong  with  a  ten- 
fold force  upon  the  thoughts  of  men.  If  religious  truths  are  not 
presented  with  a  new  vigour  and  interest,  they  are  likdy  to  en- 
gage but  a  diminished  share  of  the  attention  which  they  hare 
even  hitherto  experienced  from  the  indifferent  From  the  cnaiurei 
in  politics  and  tne  diffusion  of  science,  the  interests  of  diis  Sfe 
are  assuming  higher  attractions,  and  exerting  a  deeper  sway  over 
the  ima^nation  and  the  heart.  With  respect  to  multttodes, 
religion  is  thus  silently  rqtiring  to  the  back  ground.  The  fidnt 
impression  which  it  has  ever  made,  becomes  still  fainter  ;  and  its 
voice,  imperfectly  heard  before,  is  altogether  drowned  amid  the 
bustle  and  agitation  of  life.  Unless  the  Spirit  from  cm  h^  be 
poured  out  upon  us,  unless  more  vigorous  means  are  use^  and 
far  more  vehement  supplications  offered  up,  the  Churdi  of 
Christ,  divided  as  it  already  is  into  factions,  and  earnest  aboot 
things  which  profit  not,  will  soon  become  stationary,  and  then 
rapidly  decline. 

Our  hope  is,  that  there  are  still  many  watchmen  on  the  walb 
of  our  Zion,  who  are  not  silent  cither  by  night  or  by  day.  They 
know  from  what  quarter  help  must  come.  Their  cry  is  like  that 
of  the  prophet,  "  Awake !  Awake!  O  arm  of  the  Lord;**  fer 
they  know  that,  in  the  first  instance,  it  is  in  vain  to  awaken  the 


( 
1 

I 

i  GreswelPs  Harm&ny  and  Disaertations.  299 

i  ndombering  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem.     But  when  the  arm  of  the 

f    Lord  has  **  put  on  strength,^  then  their  second  watch-cry  shall 

I    iesound  over  the  city  of  the  Lord :    ^'  Awake !    awake !  stand 

up^  O  Jerusalem  ^^  knowing  that  an  Almighty  arm  is  about  to 

\^f  raise  her  from  the  dust."^    And  the  third  and  final  appeal  is  for 

Jerusalem  to  take  the  throne  that  has  been  prepared  for  her, 

-^▼en  the  throne  of  the  world.     '^  Awake !  awake !  put  on  thy 

Mcength,  O  Zion ;  put  on  thy  beautiful  garments,  O  Jerusalem, 

the  Holy  City!'' 


Art*  III.    1.    Harmoma   Evangelica.     Edidit  Edvardus  Greswellj 
AM.,  &C.    8vo.    Oxon. 

3.  Dissertalions  upon  the  Principles  and  Arrangement  of  a  Harmony 
o/*  the  Gospels.  By  the  Rev.  Edw.  Greswell^  M.A.^  &c.  3  vols, 
ova     Oxford. 

3.  J  Harmony  of  the  Four  Gospels,  in  the  English  authorized 
Version^  arranged  according  to  Greswell's  "  Harmonia  Evangelica" 
in  Greek ;  with  References  to  his  Dissertations  on  the  Same.  By 
Permission  of  the  Author.  Intended  principally  as  an  Accompani« 
mcnt  to  a  Pictorial  and  Geographical  Chart  (by  R.  Mimpriss)  of 

of  Oar  Lord  Jesus  Christ.    8vo.  pp.  352. 


the  History  of  the  Life  of  Oar  Lord  Jesus  Christ.    8vo.  pp. 
London,  1833. 

{Continued  from  page  22.) 

'^^^E  proceed,  in  the  present  article,  to  exhibit  some  specimens 
of  the  application  of  the  principles  laid  down  by  Mr.  Gres- 
well,  to  the  Harmony  itself;  and  in  so  doing,  we  shall  avail  our- 
selves of  the  English  Harmony  which,  with  his  permission,  has 
been  constructed  upon  the  model  of  his  arrangement  of  the  Greek 
text, 

Mr.  Greswell  divides  the  harmonized  evangelical  narrative  into 
five  parts,  as  follows : 

Part  I.  Matt.  i.  ii;  Luke  i — ^iii.  38.  Comprehending  the 
space  of  31  years;  viz.  from  a.u.c.  7^9  answering  to  b.c.  6,  to 

A.U.C.  779>  ^^  ^'^'  ^6* 

Part  II.  Matt.  iii. — ^viii.  4;  14— 17- ix- 2 — 9.  Mark  i.— ii. 
22.  Luke  iii.  1 — 23;  iv.  v.  John  i. — iv.  Comprehending  one 
year  and  six  months;  viz,,  from  the  commencement  of  the 
preaching  of  John  the  Baptist,  a.d.  26  medio^  to  the  end  of  the 
first  year  of  the  ministry  of  Jesus  Christ,  a.d.  28  ineuniem. 

Part  III.  Matt.  viii.  5—13;  18—34.  ix.  1. ;  10—38.  x.— xiv. 
Mark  ii.  23 — 28.  iii. — vi.  Luke  vi. — ^ix.  I7.  John  v. — vi.  Com- 
prehending the  space  of  twelve  months,  from  the  end  of  the  first 
year  of  the  ministry  of  Jesus  Christ,  a.d.  28,  ineunte,  to  the  end 
of  the  second  year  of  the  same,  a.d.  29,  ineuntem. 

Part  IV.  Matt.  xv. — xxvii.  Mark  vii. — xv.  Luke  ix.  18 — xxiii. 

o  o2 


300  Greswell^s  Harmony  and  Dissertations. 

John  vii. — xix.  Comprehending  the  space  of  twelve  months 
from  the  end  of  the  second  year  of  Our  Lord's  ministry,  to  th 
end  of  the  third  year,  a.d.  30,  ineuntem. 

Part  V.  Matt,  xxviii.  Mark  xvi.  Luke  xxiv.  John  xx.  xxi 
Comprehending  the  forty  days  from  the  morning  of  Our  Lord' 
Resurrection,  April  7?  to  the  day  of  his  Ascension,  May  16,  a.o 
30.        , 

This  division,  our  readers  will  perceive,  is  purely  chronolo 
gical,  and  not  founded  upon  any  natural  divisions  of  the  sul 
ject  matter  of  the  Gospels.  Part  I.,  which  comprehends  31  yean 
occupies  only  13  pages  of  the  Harmony,  consisting  of  the  firs 
two  chapters  of  Matthew,  and  the  first  three  chapters  of  Lub 
Within  the  compass  of  this  brief  introductory  portion,  howevei 
there  occur  one  or  two  points  of  considerable  difficulty,  as  regard 
the  exact  arrangement  and  chronology.  Mr.  Greswell  commence 
his  Harmony  with  the  exordium  of  Luke's  Gospel,  as  Calvi 
has  done  ;  and,  with  that  commentator,  he  proceeds  regularly  a 
&r  as  ver.  55  of  the  first  chapter ;  but  he  then  introduces,  a 
parallel  to  ver.  56,  Matt.  i.  18 — 25.  He  then  resumes  Luke 
narrative  to  ver.  21  of  chap,  ii.,  where  he  inserts  the  double  gc 
nealogy  given  by  the  two  evangelists ;  and  then  continues  Luk 
ii.  to  ver.  38.  The  visit  of  the  Magi  and  the  events  dependcn 
upon  it,  Matt.  ii.  1 — 23,  are  next  given  ;  and  the  part  conclude 
with  Luke  ii.  40 — 52.  Calvin  pursues  Luke's  narrative  t 
the  end  of  his  first  chapter,  where  he  introduces  the  genealogies 
He  then  continues  Matthew's  Gospel  to  the  end  of  chap.  i. ;  fol 
lows  this  with  Luke  ii.  1 — 21;  then  gives  the  visit  of  the  Mag 
Matt.  ii.  1 — 12;  but  interposes  Luke  ii.  22 — 39  between  thj 
verse  and  vss.  13 — 23;  and  lastly,  gives  Luke  ii.  40—62. 

The  placing  of  the  genealogies  is  a  point  of  small  moment 
but  their  respective  position  in  the  two  Gospels  is  deserving  c 
notice.  It  would  have  been  unnatural  and  inappropriate  fc 
Luke  to  commence  his  history  with  the  genealogy  of  Cnrist,  th 
circumstances  of  whose  birth  are  not  adverted  to  before  ver.  2( 
No  good  opportunity  occurs  for  introducing  it,  till,  on  mentioi 
ing  the  age  of  Our  Lord  on  entering  upon  his  public  ministr] 
this  Evangelist  appositely  connects  with  that  circumstance,  his  d< 
Bcent  by  blood  from  the  royal  house  of  David ;  tracing  his  genei 
logy  still  upward  to  Adam,  as  if  to  represent  him  as  tne  promise 
seed  of  the  Woman,  in  whom  all  nations  of  the  earth  were  alii 
interested.  St.  Matthew,  on  the  contrary,  could  not  but  affix  hi 
transcript  of  Our  Lord's  legal  genealogy  as  the  heir  of  Davie 
through  the  line  of  Solomon,  and  the  descendant  of  Abraham,  i 
the  very  beginning  of  his  Gospel,  as  one  indispensable  proof  < 
that  which  it  was  his  main  object  to  establish,  the  Messianship  < 
Jesus ;  and  he  connects  it  immediately  with  the  miraculous  cii 
cumstances  of  his  birth.     It  stands  there  in  its  appropriate  an 


Greswell^s  Harmony  and  Dissertation*.  901 

only  suitabre  place,  in  a  work  written  with  a  specific  reference  to 
that  object,  as  a  legal  document  attesting  the  validity  of  Our 
Lord'^s  pretensions  as  the  predicted  Son  of  David,  one  of  the 
prophetic  marks  by  which  he  was  to  be  recognized,  and  a  sine 
qud  nony  therefore,  in  the  estimation  of  the  Jewish  people.  In 
each  Gospel,  then,  the  genealogy  occupies  its  proper  place ;  and 
the  transposition  required  in  a  narmony,  is  the  first  instance  of 
that  disadvanti^eous  sacrifice  of  the  natural  arrangement  to  the 
artificial,  which  meets  us  at  almost  every  step.  The  legal 
genealogy  might,  it  is  true,  have  been  connected  by  St  Luke, 
with  his  account  of  the  reasons  which  led  to  Joseph''s  repairing  to 
Bethlehem,  or  with  the  circumcision  of  Our  Lord ;  instead  of 
which,  the  fact,  that  Joseph  was  of  the  lineage  of  David,  as 
proved  by  St.  Matthew,  is  merely  mentioned  Luke  ii.  4.  But 
the  descent  of  Our  Lord  from  Adam^  as  given  by  St.  Luke, 
would  have  been  irrelevant  in  that  connexion,  as  well  as  an  inter- 
ruption of  the  narrative,  and  is  therefore  reserved  for  the  place  in 
which  it  occurs  in  the  text  of  that  Evangelist. 

A  dissertation  is  devoted  to  the  apparent  discrepancy  between 
the  two  genealogies,  and  to  some  minor  critical  difficulties,  which 
the  reader  will  consult  with  advantage.  As  it  was  not  the  custom 
of  the  Jews  to  exhibit  the  genealogy  of  females  as  such,  the  gene- 
alo^  of  Christ,  Mr.  Greswell  remarks,  would  not  be  formally 
exhibited  as  his  genealogy  through  Mary,  but  through  her  hus- 
band, who  stood  in  the  same  relation  to  the  father  of  Mary,  as 
Mary  herself. 

'As  the  natural  genealogy  of  Joseph^  distinct  from  Mary's^  was 
exhibited  by  St.  Mattliew  as  the  legal  genealogy  of  Jesus,  so,  the  ita/u- 
ra/ genealogy  of  Jesus^  distinct  from  Joseph's,  is  exhibited  by  St.  Luke 
as  toe  /f^g^ai  genealogy  of  Joseph.  The  language  of  this  Evangelist  is 
as  much  adapted  to  the  support  of  this  conclusion^  as  the  language  of 
St.  Matthew  to  the  support  of  the  former.  For,  first,  the  words  iv  uq 
tfop/^iTo^  premised  to  the  account,  by  setting  forth  Our  Lord  as  the 
reputed,  and  not  as  the  actual  son  of  Joseph^  do  clearly  imply  that  the 
genealogy  which  follows,  apparently  through  Joseph,  could  not  be  the 
natural  genealogy  of  both ;  and,  if  it  was  real  in  respect  to  either,  it 
eould  be  only  imputed  in  respect  to  the  other.  Secondly,  his  mode  of 
expressing  the  relation  between  the  successive  links,  seems  purposely 
chosen  to  describe  an  acquired,  as  well  as  a  natural  relation  ;  for  it  is 
soch  as  to  apply  to  both.  We  have  but  to  suppose  that  Mary  was  the 
daughter  of  Eli,  and  we  assign  a  reason  why  the  descent  of  Our  Lord, 
though  in  reality  through  ]\Iary,  might  yet  be  set  forth  as  apparently 
through  Joseph....  It  is  certain  that,  as  both  descended  fromDavid,  Joseph 
and  Mary  were  of  kin  ;  and,  as  both  standing  at  analogous  points  in  the 
lines  of  this  descent,  it  is  probable  that  they  were  the  next  of  kin.  If 
the  Jewish  records  did  not  recognize  INlary,  though  the  daughter  of 
Eli^  except  as  the  wife  of  Joseph,  her  son,  who  would  ap])car  to  be  his 
son,  must  be  described  accordingly '.  Vol.  II.  pp.  103,  100. 


303  GreswelPs  Harmony  and  Dis9ertaikm$. 

At  the  same  time,  as  the  political  claim  to  the  throne  of  DaTid 
and  Solomon  was  vested  in  the  line  which  terminated  in  Joseph, 
it  was  as  his  heir,  though  not  his  son,  that  the  Son  of  David 
through  Mary,  united  in  himself  every  legal  right  to  the  tempo- 
ral kingdom  of  Israel ;  so  that,  when  the  rulers  of  the  nation  de- 
livered up  the  legitimate  ^  King  of  the  Jews'"  to  the  Roman 
power,  declaring  that  they  had  no  other  kins  than  Caesar,  theVf 
m  that  very  act,  broke  the  sceptre  of  Judan,  extinguished  ^e 
last  temporal  hope  of  Israel,  and  unconciously  afforded  a  demon- 
stration that  the  Shiloh  had  come.  It  may  be  alleged,  perhaps, 
that  if  Joseph  and  Mary  had  children,  (a  point  examined  in  tnis 
same  dissertation,  and  Mr.  Greswell  inclines  to  the  aflBrmative,) 
the  eldest  would  succeed  to  the  legal  claims  vested  in  the  first- 
born of  Mary.  But,  in  the  first  place,  the  act  of  the  rulers  of  the 
nation,  supported  by  the  people,  renouncing  their  king,  could  not 
be  reversed;  and  secondly,  his  claims  can  never  terminate  or 
devolve  upon  a  successor,  of  whom,  to  adopt  the  argument  and 
language  of  an  apostolic  writer,  it  is  testified  that  he  uves,  a  per- 
petual pontiff  and  a  king  for  ever. 

The  time  of  the  visit  of  the  Magi  is  the  subject  of  another 
erudite  dissertation.  With  regard  to  its  place  in  the  harmonised 
narrative,  it  will  be  seen,  that  Mr.  Greswell  introduces  that  event 
between  ver.  38  and  39  of  Luke  ii.,  or  after  the  Presentation ; 
while  Calvin  supposes  it  to  have  taken  place  before  the  for^  days 
were  accomplished,  arguing,  that  Joseph  and  Mary  could  have 
no  motive  for  returning  from  Jerusalem  to  Bethlehem.  They 
had  come  to  the  latter  city  for  a  specific  object,  viz.  to  be  regis- 
tered there,  but  apparently  without  any  design  of  making  it  dieir 
abode*.  It  was  so  ordered,  that  the  birth  of  Our  Lord  should 
take  place  there ;  but,  when  Mary  was  able  to  ffo  up  to  Jerusalem, 
there  was  no  obvious  reason  for  their  returning  to  Bethlehem, 
supposing  them  to  have  been  registered. 

Mr.  Greswell  infers  from  the  limitation  of  the  massacre  to  children 
airo  iuToviy  i.  e.  as  he  interprets  it,  not  exceeding  thirteen  months, 
that  the  star  ^  could  not  have  appeared  more  than  thirteen  months 
^  before  the  arrival  of  the  Magi,  though  it  miffht  have  appeared /e^^.** 
We  find  him,  however,  afterwards  contending,  (forgetftd  of  this 
last  admission,)  that,  if  it  first  appeared  at  or  after  the  Nativity, 
the  age  of  Our  Lord,  at  the  time  of  their  arrival,  ^  could  not  have 
^  been  less  than  thirteen  months ;  a  conclusion,^  he  adds,  *  which 
^  would  involve  the  Gospel  chronology  in  insuperable  difficulties.^ 
He  therefore  concludes  that  the  star  must  have  appeared  many 
months  before  Our  Lord'^s  birth.  He  shews  that,  according  to 
the  rate  of  travelling  in  those  times,  the  Magi,  if  they  came  nom 


•  '  SluU^  enim  itna^nanlurfuisse  illic  domicUium  Joseph,  ubi  adco 
ignolus  erat  ut  hogpUtum  nullum  invenire  poiuerit,'     Calv.  in  loco* 


ChresweirB  Harmony  and  Dissertatumi.  908 

nrdiia  or  Bactris,  would  be  four  months  on  the  road ;  and  he  in- 
dges  the  conjecture,  that  the  star  had  appeared  nine  months  before 
ej  set  out,  at  the  period  of  the  Annunciation.  The  order  of 
:md,  however,  by  no  means  proves  that  the  star  had  appeared  so 
ng  as  thirteen  months  before.  On  the  contrary,  his  sweeping  and 
itnless  edict  would  doubtless  be  framed  so  as  to  make  all  sure, 
f  providing  against  the  difficulty  of  ascertaining  the  precise  age 
'  an  infant  under  a  year  old ;  and  we  may  therefore  take  the 
fe  of  thirteen  months  as  the  extreme.  Besides,  the  order  would 
It  be  issued  till  some  time  had  elapsed.  Herod  would  doubtless 
mchide,  at  first,  that  the  Magi  were  prosecuting  their  search  at 
ethlehem  and  in  its  vicinity ;  he  would  expect  them  not  readily 
»  abandon  their  object ;  and  it  would  not  be  till  he  had  actually 
loertained  their  departure  out  of  his  dominions,  that  he  would 
include  th^  had  found  the  object  of  their  search,  but  not  re- 
imed  to  inrorm  him  of  their  success.  On  being  convinced  of 
lis,  his  vindictive  rage  burst  forth ;  a  rage  not  unmixed  with 
slous  mi^vings  and  alarm.  But,  by  that  time,  days  and  even 
eeks  might  have  elapsed,  and  Joseph  and  Mary,  as  well  as  the 
[agi,  had  escaped  out  of  his  territories.  The  Presentation  in 
le  Temple  might  take  place  in  the  interval.*  Supposing,  then, 
le  star  to  have  first  appeared  at  the  time  of  the  Nativity,  (which 
sems  to  us  the  more  natural  supposition,)  if  the  Magi  set  out 
nmediately,  and  were  not  quite  six  weeks  on  their  journey,  they 
light  arrive  just  before  or  about  the  time  of  the  Presentation. 
iQt  if,  as  Mr.  Greswell  supposes,  their  journey  would  occupy  four 
lonths,  and  some  delay  took  place  in  preparing  for  it,  they  could 
H  have  reached  Jerusalem  till  Our  Lord  was  five  or  six  months 
d*  In  that  case,  Joseph  and  Mary  must  have  returned  to 
ethlehem  after  the  Presentation  in  the  Temple. 

'  If/  says  Mr.  Greswell,  '  the  birth  of  Our  Lord  took  place  at  the 
iginniog  of  April  A.  .U.  7^0,  (B.  C.  4,)  then  it  may  be  rendered  pre- 
imptivdy  certain'  (a  strange  expression  !)  ^  that  the  Magi  arrived  in 
snualem  at  the  banning  of  the  following  Aagust ;  and  con- 
qnently,  in  all  probability,  that  the  flight  into  £gypt  could  not  have 
!en  delayed  much  beyondf  the  middle  of  the  same  month.  The  pass- 
^er  was  celebrated  the  next  year  on  Mar.  31,  about  a  fortnight  after 
le  death  of  Herod ;  and  that  Herod  was  dead  before  the  holy  family 
ere  instructed  to  return,  is  indisputably  clear.  It  is  a  singular  fact, 
lat,  in  the  year  after  his  birth,  when  Christ  the  True  Passover  was 
Ment  in  Egypt,  there  was,  strictly  speaking,  no  passover  celebrated 

*  Dr.  Benson  supposes  it  to  have  taken  place  between  the  arrival 
"  the  Magi  at  Jerusalem  and  their  arrival  at  Bethlehem ;  and  he  un- 
iasonably  assumes,  that  Herod  sent  forth  his  emissaries  the  very  next 
loming  after  the  Magi  had  left  him,  on  not  finding  them  return  imme- 
iatdv. 


304  GreswclFs  Harmony  and  Diaseriaiions. 

08  usual  in  Judea ;  a  circumstance  almost  unexampled  in  the  previous 
history  of  the  Jews.  The  cause  of  this  anomaly  was,  the  disturbances 
which  ensued  upon  the  death  of  Herod,  and  which,  by  the  time  of  the 
arrival  of  the  paschal  day,  had  reached  to  such  a  height,  that  Arche- 
laus  was  obli^d  to  disperse  the  people,  by  force  of  arms,  in  the  midst 
of  their  sacrifices.'     Vol.  I.  p.  338,  note. 

Dr.  Benson,  in  his  "  Chronology  of  Our  Saviour'^s  Life***,  fixes 
the  death  of  Herod  in  the  spring  of  j.p.  4711  (b.c.  3.),  which 
answers  to  the  date  adopted  by  Mr.  Greswell.  Lardner  fixes  it 
a  year  earlier.  The  arrival  of  the  Magi,  Dr.  B.  assigns,  on  veiy 
precarious  data,  to  the  middle  of  Februair,  j.p.  4710;  and  he 
fixes  the  time  of  Our  Lord"*8  birth  in  April  or  May  of  j.p.  4709, 
answering  to  a.d.c.  749  or  b.c.  5.,  which  is  a  year  earlier  than 
Mr.  Gresweirs  date.  All  that  the  narrative  requires  for  its  con- 
sistency is,  that  the  birth  of  Christ  took  place  not  less  than  about 
a  year  before  the  death  of  Herod ;  it  may  have  been  two  years ; 
but  Mr.  GreswelPs  learned  and  ingenious  calculations  will  pro- 
bably be  thought  to  establish  with  tolerable  certainty  the  date 
which  he  has  adopted,  four  years  prior  to  the  vulgar  era,  or  j.p. 
4710. 

Part  the  Second  of  the  Harmony  opens  with  the  sublime  ex- 
ordium of  St.  John'^s  Gospel,  ch.  i.  1 — 18,  which  forms  an  intro- 
duction not  less  appropriate  to  the  character  and  design  of  his 
Gospel,  than  the  Genealogy  does  to  St.  Matthew'^s ;  but  there  is 
the  same  difficulty  in  placing  it  in  a  harmony.  By  making  it 
commence  a  new  part,  this  difficulty  is  concealed,  rather  than  ob> 
viated.  The  reader  must  be  sensible,  however,  of  the  violoioe 
committed  in  separating  verses  15 — 18  from  ver.  19  et  aeq.  of  the 
same  chapter,  in  order  to  interpose,  in  parallel  columns,  the  ac- 
counts furnished  by  the  other  evangelists,  of  the  Ministry  of  the 
Baptist,  the  baptism  of  Our  Lord,  and  the  Temptation.  The 
chronology  requires  this,  unless  sect.  1.  had  been  postponed  till 
after  sect.  7*  The  fact  is,  that,  although  the  whole  of  St.  John^s 
Gospel  is  clearly  of  a  supplemental  character,  it  is  the  least  sus- 
ceptible of  being  blended  with  the  other  narratives ;  and  Calvin, 
we  cannot  but  think,  decided  wisely  in  excluding  it  firom  his 
Harmony,  and  reserving  it  for  distinct  commentary  in  an  unbroken 
form.f 


•  See  Eclec.  Rev.  Vol.  xvi.  p.  336, 

t  Doddridge  introduces  the  exordium  to  St.  John's  Grospel  in  hii 
2ud  section^  immediately  after  Luke  i.  4,  and  as  a  sort  of  pa- 
renthesis between  that  brief  preface  and  the  commencement  of  l«uke*s 
history.  This  is,  j)orhaps,  the  best  place  it  could  occupy  in  a  haxmonT* 
The  gcnoal»>gics,  he  inserts  in  sect.  1).,  immediately  after  Matt.  i.  2» 
-The  visit  of  the  3Iagi,  he  places  after  the  purification,  but,  in  hia  notes, 
treats  the  true  order  as  doubtful. 


Greswell'^s  Harmony  and  DUeertations.  90t» 

In  the  mHHmtit  -of  the  Temptation,  Mr.  Greswell  adotots  the 
tnrder  of  St.  Matthew  as  the  true  one.  Yet,  it  does  not  follow,  he 
remarks,  that  St.  Luke'^s  account  contains  a  trajecHon ;  that  is, 
an  undesigned  and  inaccurate  transposition.  The  moral  end  pro- 
posed by  the  narrative  in  either,  though  it  must  have  been  partly 
the  same,  might  have  been  partly  distinct,  so  far  as  to  require  St. 
Matthew  to  observe  the  actual  order  of  the  event,  and  to  induct 
St.  Luke  to  make  a  corresponding  change  in  it. 

*  The  o(der  of  the  temptations  is  the  order  of  their  strength  ;  that  is, 
they  begin  with  the  weakest^  and  proceed  to  the  strongest ;  for  any 
other  order  would  manifestly  have  been  preposterous.  And  the  end 
of  the  whole  transaction  is^  to  represent  Our  tdord  tempted  in  all  points, 
like  onto  ourselves^  yet  without  sin ;  attacked  in  each  vulnerable  part 
of  his  human  nature^  yet  superior  to  every  act,  and  to  all  the  subtlety 
of  the  Devil.'     Vol.  II.  p.  186. 

Now  which  of  the  last  two  temptations  was  apparently 
stronger,  would  afford  room  for  a  difference  of  opinion.  We 
agree  with  our  Author,  that  the  third,  according  to  St.  Matthew'^a 
arrangement,  besides  being  actually  the  strongest  temptation,  and 
one  which  only  the  true  Christ  could  have  withstood,  would  also 
appear  the  strongest  in  the  eyes  of  a  Jew.  But  St.  Luke  might 
have  reason  to  think  that,  to  a  Gentile  reader,  the  second  would 
appear  the  strongest,  as  the  force  of  the  last  would  not  be  appre^ 
ciated,  except  by  those  who  were  looking  for  a  temporal  Messiah. 
To  the  Gentiles,  it  might  appear  in  the  light  of  a  temptation  ad- 
dressed simply  to  the  desire  of  honour,  wealth,  or  power,  and 
therefore  of  inferior  strength  to  the  second,  which  was  addressed 
more  directly  to  the  principle  of  intellectual  pride. 

*  For  the  history  of  their  own  philosophers  could  furnish  instances  of 
persons  whom  their  natural  strength  had  enabled  to  surmount  the 
rorrner ;  but  few  or  none  of  such  as,  unassisted  by  the  grace  of  Qod, 
had  not  hllen  victims  to  the  latter.  Hence,  if  St.  Luke  wrote  for  thd 
Gkntile  Christians,  as  St.  Matthew  had  written  for  the  Jewish,  he 
would  as  naturally  place  the  second  temptation  last,  as  St.  Matthew, 
on  the  other  supposition,  had  placed  the  third.'     Vol.  II.  p.  187* 

This  explanation  is  not  only  ingenious,  but,  we  think,  carries 
with  it  high  probability.  At  all  events,  it  is  much  more  reason- 
able to  suppose  that  St.  Luke  had  some  design  in  deviating  from 
die  order  of  St.  Matthew,  than  that  he  transposed  the  order 
through  error  or  negligence,  or  considered  it  as  of  no  conseqiience. 
If  we  suppose  his  order  to  be  the  true  one,  and  that  St.  Matthew^g 
was  the  deviation  from  historic  precision,  we  may  in  like  manner 
cxmclude,  that  the  arrangement  nad  relation  to  the  specific  design 
of  that  Evangelist.  But  we  think  that  the  internal  evidence  is  m 
figivour  of  the  former  opinion.  In  order  to  estimate  the  strength 
of  the  third  Temptation,  it  should  be  considered,  that  it  was  ad- 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  P  p 


306  Gresweirs  Harmony  and  Dissertaiwn9. 

dressed  to  him  who  was  by  right  king  of  the  Jews,  in  his  regsl 
character ;  and  that  the  offer  was  made  by  the  Tempter  in  die 
semblance  of  an  angel  of  light;  who  might  lay  claim  to  this 
power,  not  as  independent  of  the  Almighty,  but  as  the  delegated 
ruler  over  the  kingdoms,  agreeably  to  the  received  ouinions  of  the 
Jews  respecting  the  subordinate  government  of  tne  world  by 
angels,  which  were  supposed  to  be  countenanced  by  the  language 
of  the  prophet  Daniel.*  The  words  of  the  Tempter,  **  For 
that  is  delivered  to  me,^^  imply  no  higher  pretensions  than  to  a 
derived  and  delegated  authority.  And  when  we  add  to  this,  that 
the  very  homage  which  the  Tempter  cUiimed  as  an  acknowledge- 
ment for  the  splendid  donation,  was  no  more  than  an  Apostle  was 
about  to  pay  involuntarily  to  a  true  angel  of  light,  when  he  was 
prevented  by  the  heavenly  messenger-f;  we  may  well  conceive 
that  the  temptation  was  one  which  even  a  good  man,  to  say 
nothing  of  an  impostor  or  an  enthusiast,  if  no  more  than  man, 
would  have  found  irresistible. 

Between  the  Temptation  and  the  commencement  of  Our  Lord^s 
ministry  in  Galilee,  there  occurs  a  hiatus  in  the  first  three 
gospels,  which  is  supplied  by  John  i.  19 — iv.  54-  Mr.  Greswell 
has  devoted  several  dissertations  to  the  illustration  of  this  supple- 
mental relation,  and  of  the  notes  of  time  which  St.  John^s  Gospel 
affords  with  regard  to  the  duration  of  Our  Lord's  ministry.  In 
his  Harmony,  between  the  fourth  and  fifth  chapters  of  John,  he 
introduces  the  events  recorded,  Luke  iv.  14 — v.  39,  and  the  cor- 
responding portions  of  Matthew'*s  and  Mark^s  Gospels,  which 
bring  down  the  narrative,  according  to  his  hypothesis,  to  the  close 
of  the  first  year  of  the  ministry  of  Our  Lord.  Accordingly,  Part 
the  third  of  his  Harmony  commences  with  John  v.  1.,  which  he 
supposes  to  refer  to  a  Passover.  As  this  is  a  controverted,  and 
certainly  a  doubtful  point,  and  one  which  has  employed  much 
learned  discussion,  we  must  transcribe  the  Author^s  reasons  for 
adopting  a  conclusion  in  which  he  differs  from  Dr.  Benson  and 
some  other  eminent  critics,  although  the  greater  number  of  com- 
mentators take  it  for  granted  that  the  Passover  is  meant  One 
reason  for  the  contrary  supposition  is,  that  the  indefinite  mention 
of  a  feast  would  not  seem  likely  to  designate  the  principal  Jewish 
festival.     Mr.  Greswell  thus  meets  this  objection. 

'  I.  The  absence  of  the  Greek  article  in  speaking  of  this  feasts  unless 
its  presence  would  infallibly  have  denoted  the  Passover,  proves  nothing 
at  all;  but  leaves  the  question  as  open  as  before.  The  truth  is,  that, 
as  the  Jewish  calendar  contained  at  least  three  feasts,  all  of  eqnal  an« 
tiquity,  and  of  equal  authority,  the  article  could  not  stand  kot  Ijo;^ 
before  one,  any  more  than  before  the  rest,  unless  that  one  had  come,  in 


•  Sec  Dan.  x.  13,  20.  t  See  Rev.  xix.  10.  xxii.  9. 


Greswell'^s  Harmony  and  Dissertations.  SKfJ 

be  librae  of  time,  to  be  placed,  for  some  reason  or  other^  at  the  head  of 
be  rest ;  a  circumstance  of  distinction  which,  as  I  have  shewn  else- 
rbere,  from  Josephus  and  from  other  authorities,  (and  which  St. 
ohn'a  expression,  directly  after — 5»  ^i  tyyiii  ii  w^ri  tUv  'lot^a  «>,  n 
limvovtiyia^-contributes  critically  to  confirm,)  might  have  held  good 
f  the  feast  of  Tabernacles,  but  could  not  of  the  feast  of  Passover. 

*  II.  If  the  feast,  John  v.  ].  was  not  the  next  Passover  to  ii.  13, 
he  Passover,  vi.  4.  must  have  been  so;  and  the  feast,  v.  1.  must  have 
een  some  feast  between  the  two,  and,  consequently,  some  feast  in  the 
nt  year  of  our  Saviour's  ministry ;  q/ler  the  Passover  belonging  to 
hat  year,  but  before  the  Passover  at  the  beginning  of  the  next :  that 
ly  It  must  have  been  either  the  Pentecost,  or  the  rcast  of  Tabernacles, 
r  the  En^cenia,  within  the  first  twelve  months  of  his  ministry.  It 
onld  not  have  been  the  Pentecost,  for,  as  I  have  shewn  in  the  last 
iwertation,  our  Lord's  return  into  Galilee  out  of  Judaea  was  just  be- 
ne the  arrival  of  this  feast.  Nor  could  it  have  been  the  Enccenia, 
jr  the  Encomia  fell  out  in  the  depth  of  winter,  at  which  time  no  such 
Bsemblage  of  sick  and  infirm  persons,  as  was  supposed  at  the  time  of 
his  feast,  could  have  been  found  about  the  pool  of  Bethcsda.  Nor 
oold  it  have  been  the  feast  of  Tabernacles  ;  because  at  that  feast  of 
!*abemacles,  and  in  the  first  year  of  his  ministry,  our  Lord  was  en- 
aged  upon  the  circuit  of  Galilee.  And  it  is  a  general  argument  why 
;  could  nave  been  no  feast  in  the  first  year  of  our  Lord's  ministry 
rhatever,  that  the  strain  of  the  reflections,  from  v.  1 7  to  the  end, 
rhich  were  then  delivered,  would  be  incompatible  with  such  a  sup- 
osition.  The  ministry  of  our  Saviour,  and,  consequently,  the  trial  of 
be  Jews,  must  have  been  going  on  at  least  for  one  year,  before  the 
itarity  of  his  rejection,  and  the  consequent  fact  of  tlieir  infidelity, — 
Dold  be  80  fiEur  certain,  as  to  admit  of  their  being  argued  with,  as  we 
nd  them  argued  with  ou  this  occasion.'     Vol.  II.  pp.  237>  8. 

The  remarkable  expression  which  occurs  Luke  vi.  1,  and 
hich  has  given  rise  to  such  numerous  conjectures,  Mr.  Greswell 
laewhere  snews,  agreeably  to  Scaliger'^s  conjecture,  was  intended 
>  denote  *  the  ^rst  regular  sabbath  after  the  sixteenth  of  the 
Jewish  Nisan,  and  conseauently,  either  in,  or  directly  after,  the 
Paschal  week.'*  If  so,  ne  contends,  wc  have  in  that  passage 
Q  indication  of  Our  Lord's  attendance  at  a  passover  which  the 
arrative  of  Luke  (as  well  as  the  parallel  narrations  of  Matthew 
ad  Mark)  proves  to  have  been  at  least  a  year  before  the  Passover 
^erred  to  John  vi.  4.  He  therefore  concludes  that  John  v.  1. 
ecidedly  points  to  a  previous  Passover,  the  second  in  our  Lord's 
linistry.     In  a  note,  the  following  additional  considerations  are 


•  *  Rendered  according  to  the  genius  of  the  Greek  language  in  its 
impound  phraseology,  it  denotes,  Jirst  after  the  second,  and  not  se^ 
ma  after  the  Jirst;  primo-secundus,  not  secundo-primus*  That  is,  the 
rst  sabbath  after  the  second  day  of  unleavened  bread,  from  which  the 
fty  days  were  reckoned  to  the  Pentecost.' 

See  Vol.  IL  pp.  2R6— 2<)3.  So,  Doddridge. 

p  p  2 


308  Greewell's  Harmony  and  DUwriatUma. 

adduced  in  support  of  this  view  of  the  chronology^  «nd  in  ansi 
to  objections. 

*  Amonz  the  argmnents  intended  toprore  that  the  feast  indefinite 
mentioned^  John  v.  1 .,  coald  not  be  a  Fassover,  none,  perhaps,  is  mt 
confidently  put  forward,  and  none  is  in  reality  more  weak  and  inco 
dusive,  than  the  following : — that  the  erents  which  are  reoordad 
the  lifth  chapter  of  St.  John,  are  not  sufficient  to  hare  occupied 
year,  and  another  Passorer  is  mentioned  directly  after  at  ti.  4. 
would  have  been  strange,  indeed,  if  they  had  been  intended  to  oocn 
a  year,  since  it  must  be  self-evident,  that  very  possibly  they  did  i 
occupy  a  single  day.  But  this  argument  proceeds  upon  the  sup] 
sition,  that  St.  John's  Gospel  is  entire  and  complete  in  itself;  a 
that  it  neither  has,  nor  was  intended  to  have,  any  supplemental  relati 
to  the  rest :  a  supposition  which  is  purely  precarious,  and  not  um 
precarious  than  contrary  to  the  matter  of  met.  The  truth  of  t 
supplemental  relation  of  this  one  Gospel  in  particular,  it  among  t 
few  positions  which,  happily,  do  not  admit  of  a  question ;— -and  wh 
this  is  the  case,  it  is  not  to  be  considered  whether  St.  John's  Gosp 
per  se,  between  v.  1 .  and  vi.  4.,  supplies  matter  sufficient  to  have  ( 
cupied  a  year,  but  whether  St.  Matthew's,  St.  Mark's^  and  St.  Luke 
in  that  portion  of  their  gospels  respectively,  the  true  place  of  whi 
is  between  these  extremes  in  St.  John's,  can  presumptively  be  shei 
to  have  done  so.  And  upon  this  point,  there  is  so  little  room  i 
doubt,  that  the  affirmative  may  be  confidently  asserted.  The  inten 
in  question  between  John  v.  1.  and  John  vi.  4.  is,  in  fact,  our  Lon 
second  year ;  and  with  respect  to  that  year,  as  it  was  the  fullest  of  i 
cident  itself,  so  its  incidents  have  been  the  most  fiiUy  related  of  az 
From  its  beginning,  by  the  attendance  at  this  Passover,  to  its  endii 
by  the  miracle  of  the  five  thousand,  there  is  no  part  of  it  which  vt 
unemployed,  nor  the  mode  of  whose  employment  it  is  not 
dearly  to  ascertain.' — Vol.  II.  pp.  240,  1. 

Doddridge  adopts  a  similar  view  of  Luke  vi.  1.  and  John  v.  1 
as  both  referring  to  the  same  Passover ;  and  he  remarks,  th 
this  arrangement  has  at  least  the  advantage  over  Manners  si 
gular  hypothesis,  who,  supposing  the  feast  of  Pentecost  to  be  i 
tended  at  John  v.  1.,  gratuitously  infers,  that  the  whole  fif 
chapter  is  transposed,  and  should  come  in  at  the  end  of  the  sixt 
Calvin  inclines  to  the  conjecture  that  the  feast  of  Pentecost 
intended,  as  agreeing  best  with  St.  John^s  narration,  but  treats 
as  uncertain.     Dr.  Benson  thinks,  there  is  very  little  reason 
suppose  that  the  feast  referred  to  was  a  passover ;  and  he  recc 
nises  only  three  during  Our  Lord's  ministry ;  adopting,  as  tl 
most  probable  opinion,  that  which  limits  its  duration  to  two  yea 
and  a  half.     It  is  obviously  only  in  relation  to  this  point,  th 
the  determination  of  the  question  is  important.     As  a  mark 
time,  some  stress  has  been  laid  upon  John  iv.  35,  which  ArchI 
shop  Newcome,  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  and  Doddridge  understand 
intimating  the  season  of  year  at  the  time  of  Our  Lord's  joume 


Gieswell^a  Harmony  and  Dissertaiums.  36B 

1^  if  it  vaated  four  months  to  harvest;,  must  hare  been  ia 
Diddle  of  winter.  Whitby,  Grotius,  Lightfoot^  and  tb» 
Dt  Writer  understand  Our  Lord  as  citing  a  proTerbial  ex- 
uon;  and  its  connection  is  thus  explained. 

Hien  the  seed  is  first  sown,  is  it  not  a  common  saying,  there  are 
for  months^  and  the  harvest  or  reaping- time  will  come  ?  Lift  up 
eyes,  survey  the  country  round  about,  and  be  convinced  by  the 
ness  of  the  fields,  that  the  four  months  are  drawing  to  a  close, 
be  season  of  the  reaping  is  at  hand.  The  end  which  is  proposed 
e  reference  to  tiiis  natural  phenomenon,  may  also  be  explained  as 
rs>  The  ripeness  of  the  visible  and  the  natural  harvest,  now 
Jie  period  requisite  to  the  maturity  of  the  seed  is  accomplished, 
be  an  earnest  to  you  of  the  ripeness  of  that  as  yet  unseen  and 
ual  harvest,  to  bring  which  to  maturity  will  be  the  object  of  my 
oal  labours,  but  to  reap  which  will  be  the  object  of  yours ;  a 
ess,  consequently,  which  will  then  be  complete,  when  my  ministry 
T,  and  yourt  is  about  to  begin.' — Vol.  I L  p.  21 1. 

Ilia  exposition  makes  the  journey  into  Samaria  coincident 
harvest ;  either  the  barley  harvest,  the  first  fruits  of  which 
consecrated  at  the  Passover,  or  the  wheat  harvest,  the  first 
>  of  which  were  presented  at  Pentecost.  If  the  former,  the 
at  which  our  Lord  waa  present  (John  v.  1.)  might  well  be, 
dvin  supposes,  the  feast  of  Pentecost ;  but  this  would  still 
jne  a  passover  to  have  intervened  between  the  one  men- 
d  in  John  ii.  13,  and  that  referred  to  in  John  vi.  4,  at  which 
Lord  appears  not  to  have  been  present, 
is  observable  that,  in  our  Lord^s  discourse  with  the  Jews, 
I  ▼.  35,  he  employs  language  which  denotes  that  the  ministry 
is  Forerunner  was  now  terminated  by  his  being  cast  into 
n.  This  event,  therefore,  in  all  probability,  occurred  be- 
;  Our  Lord'^s  leaving  Judea  and  his  return  to  the  feast  men- 
id  in  verse  1.  Mr.  Greswell  supposes  it  to  have  taken  place 
ediately  after  Our  Lord'^s  return  into  Galilee,  as  recorded  in 
I  iv.  A  specific  reason  is  assigned  for  Our  Lord^s  withdraw- 
limself  on  that  occasion,  the  jealousy  of  the  Pharisees,  and 
€i  John'^s  disciples,  having  been  excited  by  his  growing  po- 
rity.  The  time  of  that  return,  Mr.  Greswell  thinks,  was 
ibly  not  earlier,  though  it  might  have  been  somewhat  later, 
the  14th  day  before  the  Pentecost,  a.u.  7^9  ^^y  ^6 ;  to 
h  day  he  assigns  the  imprisonment  of  John.  And  he  sup- 
)  that  event  to  have  taken  place  while  Our  Lord  was  on  his 
ley  through  Samaria ;  inferring  from  the  language  of  the 
r  Evangelists,  that,  by  the  time  he  arrived  in  Galilee,  on  this 
return,  John  was  already  in  prison.  The  language  of  St. 
thew,  however,  in  ch.  iv.  1.,  seems  rather  to  indicate  a  sub- 
Mi  departure  out  of  Judea  into  Galilee,  in  consequence  of 


310  Gresweirs  Harmony  and  DuaertationB. 

learning  the  fate  of  his  precursor.  He  would  hear  of  it  on  ffoing 
up  to  Jerusalem  at  the  feast  mentioned  John  v.  1. ;  on  which  oc- 
casion he  bore  that  remarkable  testimony  to  his  character,  as  **  a 
burning  and  shining  light.^  After  that,  not  deeming  it  proper 
to  expose  himself  unnecessarily  to  the  malice  of  the  Jews,  or  the 
jealousy  of  Herod,  till  his  time  was  come,  he  again  *^  departed 
into  Galilee,^  (Matt.  iv.  12.)  and,  removing  from  Nazareth  to 
Capernaum,  entered  more  openly  upon  his  public  ministry.  It 
was  not  till  after  this  period,  that  St.  Matthew^s  personal  acquaint- 
ance with  Our  Lord  commenced ;  and  as  his  testimony  as  an 
e^e-witness  could  not  have  been  given  to  any  of  the  previous 
circumstances  of  his  Master^s  public  life,  this  seems  to  present 
the  most  natural  reason  for  his  beginning  his  account  of  Our 
Lord'^s  ministry  at  this  period,  from  which  time  it  assumed  a  new 
character,  in  consequence  of  his  choosing  the  Twelve  Apostles  as 
his  constant  attendants,  and  his  preaching  more  opemy  in  the 
Synagogues  in  his  circuits  through  the  country. 

Mr.  Greswell,  however,  taking  a  different  view,  makes  Matt 
iv.  12,  &c.,  and  Luke  iv.  14,  &c.,  follow  John  iv. ;  bringing  down 
the  narrative,  in  his  second  Part^  to  the  end  of  Luke  v.,  and  in- 
cluding in  it  Matt.  viii.  1 — 4;  14— 17»  and  ix.  2 — 9-  In  his 
third  Part,  §  1.  comprises  John  v.  1 — 47*  §  2.  consists  of  the  pa- 
rallel narrations,  Matt.  xii.  9 — 14,  Mark  iii.  1 — 6,  and  Luke  vi. 
6 — 11.  The  next  two  sections  proceed  regularly  ;  but,  in  §  5, 
the  ordination  of  the  twelve  apostles,  Matt,  x.,  Mark  iii.,  Luke 
vi.,  is  introduced  with  questionable  accuracy.  In  the  subsequent 
sections,  St.  Matthew'^s  narrative  undergoes  very  unceremonious 
treatment,  the  chapters  occurring  in  the  following  transposed 
order;  viii.  5—13;  xi.  2—30;  xii.  22—50;  xiii.  1—17;  24— 
30;  18—23;  36-52;  viii.  18—34;  ix.  1.10— 34;  xiii.  54— 
58;  ix.  35 — 38;  x.  1 — 42;  xi.  1  ;  xiv.  As  parallel  with  verses 
13 — 21  of  this  last  chapter,  in  Sect.  28,  the  Author  introduces 
John  vi.  1 — 13;  continuing  that  chapter  in  the  subsequent  sec- 
tions, as  the  conclusion  of  Part  the  third.  The  transpositions 
above  specified  are  the  result  of  much  patient  investigation; 
some  are  obviously  required  in  order  to  bring  together  the 
correspondent  narratives,  others  may  admit  of  question ;  but  to 
examine  the  arrangement  in  detail,  with  the  reasons  assigned  for 
it,  would  occupy  more  space  than  we  can  afford.  Upon  examina- 
tion it  will  be  found,  that  the  transpositions  are,  for  the  most  part, 
confined  to  the  didactic  portions  of  St.  Matthew'^s  Gospel ;  that 
they  do  not  relate  to  events^  unless  the  delivery  of  a  discourse  be 
so  called  ;  and  that  more  than  half  the  difficulties  of  the  Harmon- 
ist arise  from  the  very  unnecessary  and  (as  it  seems  to  us)  unpro- 
fitable attempt  to  fix  the  precise  date  and  locality  of  all  the  sne- 
cimens  that  are  given  of  Our  Lord^s  sayings  and  miraculous  worxs. 


Gresweirs  Harmony  and  Dissertations.  311 

For  instance,  Mr.  Greswell  attempts  to  determine  ^  the  era  ^  in 
^ar  Lord^s  ministry,  when  he  is  supposed  to  have  adopted  a  re- 
larkable  change  in  his  manner  of  teaching,  by  speaking  to  the 
eople  in  parables  ;  inferring  from  the  words  of  the  Evangelists, 
f  atthew  and  Mark,  that  he  had  never  delivered  a  parable  before* 
?his  era  Mr.  G.  finds  intimated  at  Matt.  xiii.  1 — 17  «  ^^^  ^  ^^^ 
ertation  is  devoted  to  an  elucidation  of  the  subject.  Of  any  such 
ra  in  Our  Lord'^s  ministry,  however,  we  must  profess  ourselves 
>  be  absolutely  incredulous.  Upon  that  particular  occasion,  as 
oabtless  upon  some  others,  he  delivered  his  instructions  to  the 
lultitude  only  in  that  enigmatic  form ;  and  upon  being  asked  his 
saaon  for  speaking  in  parables,  he  condescended  to  vindicate  his 
onduct,  by  shewing  its  accordance  with  a  general  rule  of  the 
Hvine  proceedings,  which  makes  religious  knowledge  to  depend 
pon  teachableness  and  obedience.  But  it  is  certain,  that,  on  other 
nd  subsequent  occasions,  he  employed  the  plainest  and  most 
teral  language  in  teaching  the  multitude ;  and  it  is  equally  cer- 
lin,  that  the  scope  of  many  of  Our  Lord^s  parables  was  suf- 
ciently  obvious  to  be  understood  by  both  the  Pharisees  and  the 
eople ;  while  many  of  his  axiomatic  instructions  were  far  more 
lysterious,  and  some  of  those  which  were  deemed  the  hardest 
lyings,  were  addressed  to  his  disciples.  The  declaration  in  this 
hapter  can  by  no  means  be  extended  to  all  the  parables,  but,  as 
Loaenmuller  explains  it,  seems  rather  to  point  to  the  subject  mat- 
nr  of  the  parables  in  question,  which  concerned  the  future  pro- 
ress  and  diffusion  of  the  Gospel, — the  ^^  secrets  of  the  kingdom 
r  heaven."  If  this  view  be  correct,  it  is  a  matter  of  no  import- 
nce,  on  what  occasion,  or  at  what  precise  stage  of  his  ministry, 
>ur  Lord  delivered  those  parables ;  nor  can  we  perceive  any 
iffident  reason  for  disturbing  the  arrangement  of  St.  Matthew, 
Y  placing  the  greater  part  of  the  xith,  xiith,  and  xiiith  chapters 
etween  the  dismembered  portions  of  the  viiith.  If  the  order  of 
latter  observed  by  St.  Matthew  be  not  the  real  order  of  time, 
lere  must  be  some  principle  of  arrangement  governing  the  order, 
hich  it  would  be  desirable  to  ascertain.  But,  while  we  readily 
Imit  that  the  Gospel  of  Luke  bears  marks  of  greater  historical 
recision  and  chronological  accuracy,  as  regards  the  leading  facts 
r  the  Gospel  history,  we  cannot  but  retain  the  opinion,  that  less 
ress  is  to  be  laid  upon  the  order  in  which  he  introduces  the 
tnecdotal^  illustrations  of  the  Saviour^s  teaching  and  public  life. 
'he  manner  in  which  these  are  introduced,  are,  witn  very  few 
cceptions,  in  striking  contrast  to  the  precision  with  which  the 
iatorical  events  are  noted :  e.  g.  *^  It  came  to  pass,  when  he 
as  in  a  certain  city  ^ — "  On  a  certain  day  when  he  was  teach- 
ig  "— "  Now  it  came  to  pass  on  a  certain  day  ^ — "  And  it  came 
»  pass,  that  as  he  was  praying  in  a  certain  place.'*^    These  vague 


813  GreswelVs  Harmony  and  Dusertatione. 

intimations  preclude  tlie  idea  of  any  other  order  than  that  sug- 
gested by  some  ^  principle  of  association  ^  or  selection. 

Mr.  Greswell,  however,  is  of  an  entirely  different  opinion.  So 
far  as  ch.  ix.  50,  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke,  he  conceives,  accompa- 
nies the  Gospels  of  St.  Matthew  and  Mark ;  but  from  ch.  ix.  51 
to  ch.  xviii.  14,  it  goes  along  by  itself,  and  the  intermediate  mat- 
ter is  peculiar  to  this  Evangelist. 

'  The  point  of  time  at  which  St.  Luke  ceases  to  accompany  St.  Mat- 
thew ana  St.  Mark,  is  the  return  to  Capernaum,  prior  to  the  last  Feast 
of  Tabernacles ;  and  the  point  of  time  at  which  he  rejoins  them,  is 
with  the  close  of  the  last  journey  up  to  Jerusalem,  when  Our  Lord 
either  had  already  passed,  or  was  just  on  the  eve  of  passing  out  of 
Persea,  into  Judaea.  On  the  same  supposition,  therefore,  of  St.  Luke's 
regularity,  as  before,  it  follows,  that  the  whole  intermediate  matter, 
peculiar  to  his  Gospel,  belongs  to  the  interval  of  time  between  that 
return  to  Capernaum,  and  that  passage  from  Persa  to  Judea ; — an 
interval  whicn,  as  we  have  had  reason  to  conclude  already,  could  not 
comprise  less  than  the  last  six  months  of  Our  Saviour's  ministry,  and 
possibly  might  comprise  even  more. 

'  Throughout  the  whole  of  these  details  which  we  suppose  to  be  thus 
comprehended,  there  are  numerous  historical  notices, — some  express, 
others  implicit, — which  demonstrate  that  Our  Lord,  all  the  time,  was 
travelling  and  teaching, — and  travelling  and  teaching  upon  his  way 
to  Jerusalem.  There  are  evidences,  therefore,  that  a  journey  to  Jeru- 
salem, all  this  time,  was  still  going  on,  and  going  on  with  the  utmost 
publicity ;  a  journey  expressly  undertaken  in  order  to  arrive  at  Jeru- 
salem ; — and  wheresoever  it  might  have  begun,  and  whatsoever  course 
it  might  take  meanwhile,  yet  known  and  understood  to  be  tending  to 
that  one  point,  and  ultimately  to  be  concluded  by  arriving  there  at 
last.  There  are,  consequently,  evidences  of  a  circuit,  as  such ;  and,  if 
it  is  a  circuit  belonging  to  one  and  the  same  (kscasion,  of  a  circuit  be- 
gun and  conducted  on  a  very  general  scale ; — ^the  fourth  of  the  kind 
which  the  Gospel-history  has  yet  supplied. 

'  All  these  indications  are  of  manifest  importance,  in  fixing  the  pe« 
riod  to  which  the  whole  of  Luke  ix.  51 — xviii.  14.  incluaively  iato 
be  referred.*     VoL  II.  pp.  457 — 9. 

The  regularity  of  Luke^s  Gospel,  up  to  ch.  ix.  51,  being,  in  the 
Author'^s  opinion,  fuUy  established,  he  feels  warranted  in  assum- 
ing its  regularity  for  the  remainder ;  and  the  twelfth  chapter  con- 
tains, he  thinks,  numerous  decisive  indications  of  belonging  to 
the  concluding  portion  of  Our  Lord^s  ministry. 

*  If  the  proof  of  this  position  can  be  made  out,  the  error  committed 
by  such  schemes  as  place  it  before  even  the  beginning  to  teach  in 
parables,  which  was  the  middle  of  Our  Saviour's  ministry,  mnst  be 
apparent  without  any  further  comment.  They  introduce  an  anachro- 
nism of  nearly  eighteen  months  in  extent.'     VoL  II.  p.  534. 


Gresweirs  Harmony  arid  Dissertations.  313 

In  attempting  to  substantiate  this  novel  view  of  the  regularity 
of  St.  Luke^s  Gospel,  Mr.  Greswell  displays  abundant  ingenuity 
and  learning;  but  we  are  compelled  to  say,  that  his  reasonings  some- 
times involve  too  large  a  portion  of  assum])tion  to  Ix)  entirely 
satisfactory.  The  hold  which  his  theory  has  upon  his  imagin- 
ation, is  apparent  in  his  easy  reliance  upon  proofs  of  a  very  slen- 
dor  character.  But  we  must  waive  further  criticism,  and  hasten 
to  a  conclusion. 

Part  the  Fourth  of  the  Harmony,  which  comprises  the  larger 
portion  of  the  Gospel  narrative,  commences  with  Matt.  xv.  and 
Mark  vii,  and  proceeds  regularly  to  Matt,  xviii.  35,  where  it 

takes  up  the  supplemental  relation  contained  in  John  vii. xi. 

It  then  proceeds  with  Luke  ix.  51 — xix.  The  four  narratives 
then  begin  to  run  parallel,  till,  at  §  87—91,  we  reach  the 
exquisite  and  precious  supplementary  relation  of  the  Convers- 
ation in  the  Supper  Chamber,  supplied  by  St.  John.  The  ac- 
counts then  re-unite,  and  are  brought  down  to  the  eve  of  the 
Resurrection. 

Part  the  Fifth  contains  the  accounts  of  the  Resurrection  and 
Ascension  in  the  final  chapters  of  the  Gospels. 

In  order  to  form  a  harmonized  chronology  of  the  four  Gospels, 
the  plan  which  would  involve  the  least  violence  to  the  inspired 
documents,  would  be,  to  select  simply  those  portions  which 
record  the  facts  relating  to  Our  Lord's  birth,  life,  suflTering, 
resurrection,  and  ascension,  leaving  all  the  discourses  and  minor 
incidents  as  they  stand.  So  far  as  regards  the  credibility  of  the 
Gospel  history,  the  agreement  of  the  witnesses  as  to  these  facts, 
is  all  that  it  can  be  necessary  to  establish.  For  the  purposes  of 
exposition  and  annotation,  we  are  persuaded  that  the  original 
form  of  the^/veral  documents  is  every  way  preferable. 

The  valijfof  Mr.  GreswelFs  erudite  and  multifarious  researches, 
however,  depends  but  little  upon  the  ideal  perfection  of  his  hy- 
pothesis for  harmonizing  the  evangelical  documents.  His  Har« 
mony  forms  but  a  portion  of  the  valuable  critical  apparatus  which 
he  has  constructed,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Biblical  student ;  and 
taken  together  with  the  Dissertations,  it  will  enable  the  reader  to 
make  himself  master  of  the  whole  range  of  inquiry  relating  to  the 
chronology  of  the  New  Testament,  and  the  structure  and  com- 
position of  the  Gospels.  We  are  conscious  of  having  given  but 
an  inadequate  account  of  the  contents  of  these  volumes ;  but  we 
have  said  enough  to  commend  them  to  the  attention  of  every 
scholar.  Of  Mr.  Mimpriss'^s  Harmony,  wc  shall  take  another 
opportunity  of  speaking,  in  noticing  his  admirable  Pictorial 
Chart. 


VOL.  IX.  —  K.S.  Q  U 


(    314     ) 


Art.  IV.  Hints  for  an  Improved  Translation  of  the  New  Testament, 
By  the  Rev.  James  Scholefield,  A.M.,  Regius  Professor  of  Greek 
in  the  University  of  Cambridge.    8vo.,  pp.  98.     London,  1882. 

<  1  F  we  will  be  sonnes  of  the  Truetb,  we  must  consider  what  it 
'  speaketh,  and  trample  upon  our  owne  credit,  yea,  and  ujwn 
^  other  mens  too,  if  either  bee  any  way  an  hinderance  to  it.^ 
So  say  the  Translators  of  the  common  English  Bible  in  their 
preface ;  and  in  this  avowal  they  have  furnished,  not  only  for 
themselves,  but  for  all  other  persons  who  seriously  and  diligently 
address  themselves  to  a  similar  employment,  a  substantial  and 
ample  ground  of  apology.  But  the  manner  in  which  they  speak 
of  their  predecessors,  is  a  sufficient  proof  that  the  circumstances 
in  which  they  found  the  impulse  to  their  own  labours,  had  no 
tendency  to  impair  the  veneration  which  they  felt  to  be  due  to 
those  who  had   *  traveiled  in  this  kinde '  before  them.     *  We 

*  acknowledge  them,**  they  say,  *  to  have  been  raised  up  of  God, 

*  for  the  building  and  furnishing  of  his  church,  and  that  they 
'  deserve  to  bee  had  of  us,  and  of  posteritie,  in  everlasting  re- 

*  membrance.** — '  Therefore  blessed  be  they,  and  most  honoured 
'  be  their  name.''  The  extreme  deference  with  which  the  Author 
of  these  '  Hints''  regards  the  memories  and  the  services  of  the 
Translators  whose  errors  he  would  correct,  and  whose  deficiencies 
he  would  supply,  is  strongly  expressed  in  the  following  passage 
of  his  *  Preface.' 

'  Nor  let  it  for  a  moment  be  supposed,  that  such  an  attempt  implies 
a  shadow  of  reproach  upon  the  original  Translators.  For  myself,  I 
would  mther  blot  out  from  the  catalogue  of  my  country's  worthies  the 
names  of  Bacon  and  Newton,  than  those  of  the  venerable  men,  who 
were  raised  up  by  the  providence  of  God,  and  endowed  by  bis  Spirit, 
to  achieve  for  England  her  greatest  blessing  in  the  Authorized 
Translation  of  the  Scriptures.  If  in  the  following  pages,  the  professed 
object  of  which  is  to  express  opinions  on  minor  points  differing  from 
theirs,  I  have  dropped  any  expressions  in  speaking  of  them,  which  even 
an  unkind  criticism  can  charge  with  any  thing  like  flippancy,  or  the 
want  of  the  most  grateful  veneration  for  them,  I  would  gladly,  if  it 
were  possible,  wash  out  with  my  tears  the  obnoxious  passages,  and 
rather  leave  their  glorious  work  soiled  with  its  few  human  blemishes, 
than  attempt  to  beautify  it  at  the  expense  of  their  well-earned  renown. 
But  I  have  thought  that,  in  entire  consistency  with  the  honest  sin- 
cerity of  this  feeling,  something  might  be  attempted  towards  carrying 
a  little  nearer  to  perfection,  a  work  which  is  already  so  near  it.' 

Neither  in  the  spirit  which  pervades  these  *  Hints,'*  nor  in  any 
of  the  emendations  suggested  by  the  Author,  will  any  thing  be 
found  to  shew  that  he  has  for  a  moment  forgotten  this  profession 
of  reverential  respect.    'J'hc  '  Authorized  Translation  of  the  Scrip- 


Translation  of  the  New  Testament.  315 

*  tures'  is  certainly  not  a  faultless  work ;  but  many  errors  have, 
without  foundation  or  reason,  been  attributed  to  it;  many 
blemishes,  too,  have  been  incorporated  with  it  in  the  modern 
editions,  for  which  the  Translators  are  not  answerable.  In  the 
strictures  which  some  zealous  critics  have  put  forth  on  the 
Common  Version,  there  is,  to  say  the  least,  a  very  imnecessary 
severity.  We  are  not  acquainted,  for  instance,  with  any  Pro- 
testant translation  of  the  Bible  which  could  ftimish  occasion  to 
question,  *  whether  it  would  not  be  safer  to  take  the  Bible  out  of 
^  the  hands  of  the  common  people,  than  to  expose  them  to  the 
^  danger  of  drawing  false  conclusions  from  erroneous  translations/ 
Still  less  are  we  able  to  perceive^  how  such  a  doubt  should  be  raised 
from  the  most  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  text  accessible  to 
the  people  of  this  country,  and  so  abundantly  distributed  among 
them.  Justice  ought  to  be  rendered  to  King  James'*s  Translators ; 
and  we  would  much  rather  unite  with  Professor  Scholefield  in 
applauding  them,  than  give  our  suffrages  in  favour  of  those 
cmendators  who,  by  ostentatious  displays  of  minute  and  question- 
able criticism,  would  injuriously  depreciate  the  excellence  of  the 
work  which  we  possess,  as  the  result  of  their  combined  learning 
and  judgement,  and  the  fruit  of  their  industry  and  perseverance. 

But,  without  disparaging  the  services  or  derogating  from  the 
honours  of  the  Authors  or  Editors  of  the  Common  Version,  we 
feel  that  neither  should  they  engross  our  praises,  nor  hold  in  our 
remembrance  an  exclusive  place.  Nor,  if  we  should  claim  for 
other  names  which  are  indelibly  associated  with  the  English 
translations  of  the  Scriptures,  a  warmer  and  more  elevated  com- 
mendation than  we  bestow  upon  the  memories  of  the  former, 
should  we  be  violating  the  demands  of  equity,  or  offending  against 
the  law  of  Christian  charity.  If  the  Translators  of  the  Common 
Version  be  entitled  to  honour,  the  names  of  Tyndal  and  Cover- 
dale  are  worthy  of  more  abundant  honour.  The  work  which  they 
respectively  performed,  and  the  circumstances  in  which  they  exe- 
cuted it,  have  only  to  be  brought  before  us,  that  we  may  see  the 
justice  of  the  decision  which,  in  assigning  their  respective  honours, 
awards  the  superiority  to  Tyndal.  The  Common  Version  was  pro- 
duced by  the  united  labours  of  fifty-four  divines,  who  engaged  in 
this  service  under  the  smiles  and  fostering  patronage  of  James  I. 
They  were  furnished  with  the  royal  mandate  as  the  means  of 
procuring  them  all  necessary  assistance  and  support ; — were  to  be 
entertained  in  such  colleges  as  they  might  make  choice  of,  with- 
out any  charge  unto  them,  and  to  be  freed  from  all  lectures  and 
exercises ;  and  care  was  taken  for  their  subsequent  preferment. 
But  in  TyndaFs  case,  the  wall  was  built  in  troublous  times.  He 
had  to  count  the  cost  of  his  enterprise,  and  put  his  life  in  peril 
by  the  undertaking  which  he  projected.  Obliged  by  the  neces- 
sities to  which  he  was  reduced,  to  leave  his  country,  he  sought  a 

Q  Q  2 


316  Scholcfield's  Hints  for  an  Improved 

foreign  asylum,  and  prosecuted  the  work  of  translating  and  print- 
ing the  New  Testament,  not  only  without  either  royal  or  epis- 
copal countenance,  but  with  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  authori- 
ties in  hostility  to  his  design,  and  not  less  his  personal  enemies. 
His  good  was  evil  spoken  of.  His  laying  the  Scriptures  before 
the  eyes  of  the  people  '  in  their  mother  tongue,  that  they  might 
^  see  the  processe,  order,  and  meaning  of  the  text,"*  was  denounced 
as  an  iniquity;  and  the  book,  when  published,  was  prohibited  as 
pernicious,  pestilent,  and  scandalous.  He  himself  was  perse- 
cuted as  a  heretic ;  endured  an  imprisonment  of  eighteen 
months ;  and  then,  ten  years  after  the  first  publication  of  his 
New  Testament  in  English,  was  strangled,  and  his  body  con- 
sumed to  ashes  !  Such  services  and  such  sufferings  are  never  to 
be  forgotten. 

A  revision  of  the  Common  Version  of  the  Bible  has  been  fre- 
quently called  for  by  writers  who  have  animadverted  on  its  de- 
fects and  errors.  Translations  of  detached  portions  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, including  almost  every  book,  have  successively  appeared, 
the  authors  of  which  express  a  decided  opinion  in  favour  of  an 
improved  version  of  the  whole  sacred  Volume.  Whether  evei 
such  a  work  shall  be  attempted,  and  completed,  ^  by  his  Majesty'^s 
*  special  command,^  may,  we  think,  be  doubted.  The  present  Au- 
thorized Version  will  probably  maintain  its  designation  and  its  form 
for  a  long  time  to  come.  One  means,  however,  of  its  improve- 
ment is  both  desirable  and  practicable :  the  variations  which  the 
different  editions  of  it  exhibit,  may  be  corrected;  and  the  text 
amended  in  such  mannq(  as  to  restore  it  to  its  original  state. 
The  curators  and  printers  to  whom  the  monopoly  of  the  Englisli 
Bible  has  been  granted,  seem  to  have  had  but  little  of  a  common 
understanding  and  communication  with  each  other  in  respect  tc 
the  preservation  of  its  integrity.  The  Syndics  of  the  Cambridge 
University  press  are,  wc  believe,  employed  in  revising  the  text  o1 
their  editions ;  an  example  which  will  probably  be  followed  a( 
Oxford  and  London ;  and  from  these  collations  we  may  expect  the 
removal  of  many  discrepancies  from  the  Common  Version,  which 
now  disfigure  the  several  impressions  of  its  text. 

Professor  Schalefield'^s  Hints  for  an  Improved  Translation  ol 
the  New  Testament  are  entitled  to  attention ;  but  they  are,  or 
the  whole,  of  less  value  than,  in  the  present  state  of  Biblical  criti- 
cism, might  have  been  anticipated,  and  cannot  have  assigned  tc 
them  a  very  distinguishetl  place  among  the  productions  by  which 
we  are  assisted  in  our  study  of  the  New  Testament.  But  few  oi 
the  corrections  proposed  in  these  pages,  are  essentially  original ; 
and  a  very  considerable  number  of  them  may  be  seen  in  the 
amendments  adopted  by  modern  translators.  Not  a  few  passages 
on  which  we  should  have  been  desirous  of  learning  the  opinions 
of  the  Professor,  are  passed  by  without  notice.     In  every  part, 


Translation  of  the  New  Testament.  317 

however,  of  these  notes,  we  observe  a  judicious  treatment  of  the 
subjects  brought  under  discussion ;  and  there  is  scarcely  an 
emendation  proposed,  to  which  we  should  be  prepared  to  hazard 
an  objection. 

Many  of  the  alterations  proposed  in  these  *  Hints,**  particu- 
larly in  the  Gospels,  respect  the  insertion  of  the  definite  article ; 
and  most  of  the  instances  adduced,  are  to  be  found  in  the  correc- 
tions introduced  by  modem  translators,  "  In  the  ship,'^  Matt.  iv. 
21.  *4nto  the  mountain,'"*  v.  1. ''  Thebushel,''  the  "  candlestick,^ 
V.  15.  "  Upon  the  rock,*"  vii.  24,  25,  &c.  The  propriety  of  such 
corrections  is  quite  obvious.  Nothing  can  be  more  careless  or 
capricious  than  the  practice  of  the  Translators  in  the  Common 
Version.  In  Matt.  i.  20,  we  have  "  the  angel  of  the  Lord."  So 
they  read  in  chap.  ii.  13 ;  but  in  vs.  19,  we  find  '*an  angel  of  the 
"  LorA*^  The  noun  is  anarthrous  in  all  the  three  passages,  and 
the  rendering  should  therefore  be  "  an  angel  of  the  Lord.'**  In  his 
'  Doctrine  of  the  Greek  Article,'  Middleton  remarks  on  Matt, 
xiii.  2,  that  in  this,  and  in  some  other  places  of  the  Evangelists, 
we  have  Tr'Koiov  with  the  article.  The  fact  is,  that,  with  but  two 
exceptions,  the  noun  has  the  article  uniformly  prefixed.  In  Matt. 
xiv.  13,  irxoiov  occurs,  which  is  correctly  rendered,  "  by  ship  C 
and  the  other  instance  is  Luke  viii.  22,  in  reference  to  which,  by 
a  remarkable  oversight,  Middleton  says,  p.  219 :  '  In  one  Evan- 

*  gelist,  Luke  v.  3,  we  find  a  ship  used  hy  our  Saviour  for  the 
'  very  purpose  here  mentioned  (to  be  in  waiting  for  him),  declared 
^  expressly  to  be  Simon's  :  and  afterwards,  in  the  same  Evangelist, 

*  viii.  22,  we  have  to  irxoiov  definitely,  as  if  it  were  intended  that 

*  the  reader  should  understand  it  of  the  ship  already  spoken  of.' 
The  absence  of  the  article  in  this  passage,  is  somewhat  of  a  diffi- 
culty, as  we  might,  indeed,  presume  from  Middleton's  confident 
assumption  of  its  presence.  Compare  Matt.  viii.  18,  &c.  Mark 
iv.  35,  &c. 

At  Matt.  iv.  1,  Middleton,  in  his  work  on  the  Greek  Article, 
reads  biro  rou  Hviu/jiarog  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  observing  that  so  all 
Commentators  now  understand  it ;  and  on  the  parallel  passage  in 
Luke  iv.  1,  he  remarks  :   '  As  the  reading  now  stands,   I  am  in- 

*  clined  to  interpret  TrviUfMa  of  the  Person  called  the  Holy  Spirit, 

*  and  to  make  iv  equivalent  to  w^ro,  signifying  through  the  agency 
'  o/i  a  common  Hebraism.'  In  what  sense  the  Translators  of  the 
Common  Version  understood  the  words  of  the  Evangelists,  it  may 
be  difficult  to  determine.  The  editions  of  this  Version  accessi- 
ble to  us  at  the  present  moment,  exhibit  very  remarkable  dif- 
ferences. In  all  the  first  three  Gospels  (John  omits  the  history 
of  the  temptation)  the  term  wvev/ua  has  the  article  prefixed.  The 
Bishop's  Bible  determines  the  meaning  in  Luke  iv.  1 :   '  Jesus 

*  being  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ^  returned  from  Jordane,  and  was 

*  ledde  by  the  same  spirit  into  the  wildcmesse.''  The  earliest  date 


318  Scliolcfield'*s  Hints  for  an  Improved 

of  our  first  copy  of  King  Jameses  Version,  is  I«ondon,  1620, 
which  reads  in  Matt.  iv.  1,  "  spirit,'"  in  Mark  i.  12,  "  Spirit,'' 
and  in  Luke  iv.  1,  "spirit.*"  Another  copy  of  a  later  edi- 
tion, 1639,  has  in  Matt.  "  Spirit,''  but  "  spirit  ^  in  the  parallel 
passages.  In  one  Cambridge  edition,  1805,  we  have  **  Spirit,"  in 
all  the  three  places;  and  so  reads  the  edition  of  1819  ;  but  that 
of  1831  has  in  Matt,  and  Mark,  "spirit,''  while  in  Luke  the  read- 
ing is  "  Spirit."  In  most  of  the  Oxford  editions  which  we  have 
collated,  the  reading  in  Matt,  and  Mark  is  ^*  spirit,"  but  in  Luke 
"  Spirit."  In  the  same  manner  the  term  appears  in  the  recent 
London  editions.  In  the  Oxford  Bible  of  1765,  we  have  **  spirit" 
in  all  the  three  passages.  Rom.  i.  4,  is  in  this  same  manner 
varied  in  sense  in  different  copies  of  the  Common  Version,  some 
reading  "  Spirft  of  holiness,"  and  others  "  spirit  of  holiness." 

Vs.  23.  Here  the  Common  Version  reads : — "  all  manner  of 
sickness  and  all  manner  of  disease."  In  Chap.  ix.  35,  the  same 
words  are  renctered,  "  every  sickness  and  every  disease."  A  uni- 
form rendering  is  desirable: — "  every  kind  of  sickness,  and  every 
kind  of  disease." 

Vs.  24.  "  Possessed  with  devils,"  and  so  throughout: — '*  vexed 
with  a  devil," — "  an  unclean  devil," — "  casting  out  a  devil." 
Passages  of  this  kind  are  passed  by  without  notice  in  the  ^  Hints.' 
We  find,  however,  in  the  Author's  remarks  on  1  Tim.  iv.  1,  2, 
"  Doctrines  of  daemons,"  substituted  for  "  Doctrines  of  devils;" 
from  which  we  should  infer  his  readiness  to  correct  the  Com- 
mon Version  in  the  other  instances  in  which  they  use  the  dis- 
carded expression.  The  distinction  of  the  original  should  be  pre- 
served in  the  Version  :  ita&o\og  and  iai/Aovtov  are  never  confounded. 

Ch.  V.  17.  *'  I  am  not  come  to  destroy,  but  to  ftdfil."  There 
is  a  considerable  number  of  passages  in  the  Common  Version,  in 
which  the  transposition  of  the  negative  adverb  would  be  an  im- 
provement of  the  English  text.  "  I  am  come,  not  to  destroy,  but 
to  fulfil."  "  I  am  come  to  call,  not  the  righteous,  but  sinners  to 
repcntiincc'  ix.  13.  "  1  am  come  to  send,  not  jK'ace,  but  a  sword." 
X.  34.  "  The  Son  of  man  is  come,  not  to  destroy  men's  lives,  but 
to  save  them."  Luke  ix.  36.  Ilie  reading  in  this  verse,  in  some 
editions  of  the  Common  Version,  is,  "the  Law  or  the  Prophets;" 
in  others,  "  the  law  or  the  prophets." 

Ch.  vi.  13.  The  doxology  is  not  found  in  the  parallel  passage 
of  I^uke's  Gospel,  and  is  rejected  by  Hiblical  critics,  who  regani 
it  as  an  interpolation  introduced  from  the  liturgies  of  the  Greek 
Church.  We  take  this  notice  of  it  for  the  jnirpose  of  remarking 
on  the  entire  absence,  in  these  "  Hints,"  of  all  reference  to  the 
subject  of  the  various  readings  of  tlie  New  Testament.  This 
.seems  to  us  an  omission  of  some  consequence  in  the  work  of  a 
Regius  Professor  of  Greek  in  an  Knglish  UniyerHity,  written  for 
the  purpose  of  suggesting  improvemeuts  in  the  translation  of  the 


Translation  of  the  New  Testament,  319 

most  ini|>ortant  portion  of  the  sacred  Scriptures.  No  opinion  is 
anywhere  in  these  pages  delivered  by  the  Author  on  the  claims 
of  words  and  sentences  to  a  place  in  the  sacred  text.  Even 
1  John  V.  7-  is  passed  by  without  a  single  observation.  A 
translation  of  the  New  Testament  could  not  be  satisfactorily  un- 
dertaken or  offered  to  the  public,  but  by  competent  persons  who 
must  necessarily  conduct  their  work  with  a  constant  reference  to 
the  original  text ;  and  the  received  Greek  text,  adopted  from  the 
Elzevir  impression  of  1624,  would  not  be  allowed  as  the  standard 
to  which  the  New  Version  should  be  made  conformable.  Since 
that  date,  more  than  two  centuries  have  elapsed,  in  the  course  of 
which  an  immense  expenditure  of  everything  most  valuable  to 
men  of  learning  has  been  devoted  to  the  criticism,  of  the  Bible. 
Those  labours  would  not,  indeed,  be  altogether  lost,  if  the  results 
of  them  should  never  be  seen  in  a  Common  Version :  they  are 
available  to  the  Christian  scholar,  who,  however,  is  not  entitled 
to  a  monopoly  of  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  them.  Un- 
til, therefore,  they  shall  be  rendered  generally  serviceable,  in 
fiimishing  a  corrected  vernacular  text,  there  will  be  wanting  the 
grateful  and  proper  return  which  is  answerable  to  such  labours 
and  such  sacrifices.  From  a  Greek  Professor  in  an  English  uni- 
versity, we  might  surely  expect  to  receive,  in  such  a  work  as  the 
present,  the  means  of  assisting  us  to  appreciate  the  value  of  the 
most  important  various  readings  in  VVetstein  and  Griesbach. 
Hints  for  an  Improved  Translation  of  the  New  Testament,  should 
not  be  limited  to  the  manner  of  rendering  the  Te^vtus  Receptus. 

Matt.  xiv.  20.  "  fragments ;''  but,  in  Chap.  xv.  37?  **  broken 
meat/^  This  is  the  reading  in  Mark  viii.  0  :  but  in  I^uke  ix.  17, 
we  again  have  *' fragments.*"  "  Fragments''  should  be  the  ren- 
dering in  every  place. 

Ch.  xix.  28.  The  editions  of  the  Common  Version  exhibit  a 
variety  in  the  construction  and  sense  of  this  verse.  In  some  copies 
we  find :  "  That  ye  who  have  followed  me,  in  the  regeneration 
when  the  Son  of  man  shall  sit  in  the  throne  of  his  glory.'*'  In 
others :  **  that  ye  who  have  followed  me  in  the  regeneration, 
when  the  Son  of  man  shall  sit  in  the  throne  of  his  glory.""  And 
in  a  third  class :  **  that  ye  who  have  followed  me,  in  the  rege- 
neration, when  the  Son  of  man  shall  sit  in  the  throne  of  his 
glory.'' 

*  Ch.  XX.  11.  The  good  man  of  the  hoiise,  rod  oIko^o^tov.  "  The 
householder."  So  translated  v.  1 .  in  the  introduction  of  the  parable ; 
and  the  variation  is  not  only  needless^  but  has  a  quaintness  in  it  not 
calculated  to  recommend  it.' 

This  is  the  only  place  in  the  gospels  where  this  correction  is 
required  ;  but  there  arc  some  passages  in  which  the  rendering, 
*'  master  of  the  house",  should  be  inserted,  instead  of  the  quaint 


320  SchofieWs  Hints  for  an  Improved 

expression  employed  by  the  translators.  Chap.  xxiv.  43.  Mark 
xiv.  14.  Luke  xii.  39*  xxii.  11.  Campbell  has,  ^  landlord/ 
Matt.  xxi.  33.     Wakefield,  occasionally,  *  master  of  the  family ."• 

lb,  23.  '  Bui  it  shall  be  given  to  themycw  whom^aXK*  ol .  *  Ex- 
cept to  those  for  whom  * — By  foisting  in  the  supernumerary  words,  wo 
make  the  passage  contain  a  doctrine  directly  contrary  to  other  placca 
of  Scripture:  ex.  gr.  John  xvii.  2.  Revelation  iii.  21.' 

Both  Campbell  and  Wakefield,  as  well  as  some  other  modem 
translators,  read,  ^  unless  to  them  for  whom."*  This  is  the  reading 
of  the  authors  of  the  first  English  New  Testament.  *  Is  not 
'  myne  to  give,  but  to  them  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of  my  father."* 
Tyndal.  '  Is  not  myne  to  gyve  to  you  but  to  which  it  is  roaad 
*  redy  of  my  father.**     Wicklif. 

'  Mark  x.  14  (zz  Matt.  xix.  14.)     For  of  such  is  Uie  Kingdom  of 

God,  ruv  ya.^  roioinu*  IcrrJv  ^  ffa<T^\'noL  rov  Stov,  '  For  to  SUch  belougcth 
tlie  kingdom  of  God.*  The  common  translation  is  at  best  ambiguous ; 
but  probably  no  onc>  who  should  first  become  acquainted  with  the 
sentiment  from  the  Greeks  would  hesitate  to  aflix  to  the  words  the 
sense  expressed  by  the  proposed  rendering.' 

In  both  passages,  the  reading  of  the  Bishop^s  Bible  is,  ^  For  to 
'  such  belougcth  the  kingdome  of  God."* 

XII  I.  0.  '  For  they  shall  deliver  you  up  to  councils ;  and  in  the 
synagogues  ye  shall  be  beaten,  r.  apalua-ova^  yap  Vf4,ec^  eU  ovvii^ia  xal  fl^ 
avtayvya^  la^ricria^i,  '  For  they  shall  deliver  you  up  to  councils  and  to 
synagogues ;  and  ye  shall  be  beaten.'  It  is  most  unlikely  that  f«;  avpii^ia, 
and  Hq  (Tvtctyutuq  should  be  thus  connected  together  both  by  juxta- 
position and  the  use  of  the  same  preposition^  only  to  be  disjoined  and 
brought  into  di/Ferent  forms  of  expression  as  in  our  translation.  The 
mrallel  place  in  Luke  xxi.  12.  is  Ta^a^t^oyrf?  iU  avfayuya^  xai  ^t/Xaxa;. 
Dr.  Doddridge's  paraphrase  of  lU  <rvfotyiuya>q  is,  "  the  inferior  courts  in 
the  synagogues."  The  want  of  the  copula  before  Jo^^trM-di  seems  to 
have  misled  our  translators  as  well  as  many  editors,  and  Griesbach 
among  them :  but  though  I  have  inserted  it  in  the  proposed  version, 
any  one,  upon  consulting  the  original,  will  perhaps  consider  the  omission 
of  it  there  not  only  allowable  but  emphatic' 

The  grounds  of  this  correction,  and  the  propriety  of  the  re- 
mark on  the  absence  of  the  copula,  are  very  clear.  'The  Bishop^s 
Bible  reads :  "  For  they  shall  deliver  you  up  to  councils,  and  to 
synagogues,  and  ye  shall  be  whipped.'*' 

'  Luke  i.  48.  Shall  call  me  blessed,  f4,aKapiov<ri  fit,  '  Shall  call  me 
happy.*  Let  us  hear  the  unseasonable  vaunt  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church  ui)on  this  pious  declaration  of  the  Virgin.  "  These  words  are 
a  prediction  of  that  honour  which  the  church  in  all  ages  should  pay  to 
the  blessed  Virgin.  Let  ProtesUuits  examine  whether  thoy  are  in  any 
way  concerned  in  this  prophecy.'*     Note  in  the  Douuv  Bible. — Now, 


Translation  of  the  New   Testame^it.  321 

will  it  be  believed,  that  this  simple  word  upon  which  these  learned  an- 
notators  ground  the  claim  of  the  Virgin  to  divine  honours,  occurs  in 
James  v.  11.  in  a  sense  too  plain  to  be  mistaken  ?  Behold,  we  count 
them  happy  (or,  call  them  blessed)  which  endure.  In  both  places,  it 
predicates  not  honour^  but  happiness. — There  is  not  a  shadow  of  ob- 
jection to  the  received  translation  in  the  passage  of  Luke^  but  that 
which  arises  from  its  awful  abuse  by  the  Pajnsts.' 

The  Rhemish  Translators  are  less  courteous  than  their  Douay 
brethren : — *  Sluill  call  me  blessed.  This  prophesie  is  fulfilled, 
*  when  the  Church  keepeth  her  Festival  daies,  and  when  the 
^  faithful  in  al  generations  say  the  Ave  Mauik,  and  other  holy 
^  antems  of  our  Lady.  And  therefore  the  Calvinistes  are  not 
^  among  those  generations  which  call  our  Lady  blessed.**  There 
can  be  no  doubt  about  the  meaning  of  the  word.  The  adoration 
of  the  Jews  would  be  quite  as  proper  as  the  adoration  of  the  Vir- 
gin :  fAOHa^ioyciv  i/fjLa^  Tra/ra  ra  tOvn.  *'  All  the  nations  shall  call 
you  blessed.^  Malachi  iii.  12.  '  Will  call  me  happy ,^  is  Wake- 
field^s  rendering,  Luke  i.  4?y,  Campbell  reads,  '  will  pronounce 
'  me  happy/ 

ii.  38.  *  Coming  in.*  t-rrta-reij'ot.  '  Standing  near.'  The  common 
translation,  besides  being  incorrect,  apparently  contradicts  the  state- 
ment of  the  preceding  verse,  that  she  departed  not  from  the  temple' 

The  proposed  alteration  is  questionable.  In  Chap.  x.  40, 
B'X'tcrTaa'a  seems  to  denote  coming  to^  rather  than  standing  near, 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  verb  being  used  of  motion  to- 
wards. There  is  no  contradiction  between  the  sense  of  the  pas- 
sage in  the  common  version,  and  the  statement  in  vs.  37th. 
Anna  might  not  de])art  from  the  temple,  and  yet  might  go  from 
one  division  or  apartment  of  it  to  another.  The  disciples  after 
Chrisfs  ascension,  chap.  xxiv.  53,  were  "  continually  in  the 
temple*^;  which,  however,  is  not  to  be  so  construed  or  explained 
as  it  they  never  at  any  time  left  it.  In  both  cases,  the  expression 
is  probably  used  to  signify  regular  attendance  on  the  temple 
worship. 

iv.  26,  27.  '  Save,  saving,  d  /ui.  "  But."  The  mistake  in  the 
authorized  translation  is  not  an  unnatural  one,  but  the  effect  of  it  is 
most  unfortunate.  It  introduces  a  direct  blunder,  by  making  the  pas- 
sage state,  that  Elias  was  sent  to  none  of  the  Israelitisli  widows,  except 
to  a  Sidonian  widow.  And  so  of  the  lepers. — But  the  fact  is,  that 
though  the  natural  and  common  sense  of  1*  /xi,  is  except^  it  is  also  not 
uncommonly  used,  as  here  proposed,  in  a  sense  not  of  limitation,  but 
exclusion.  So,  Gal.  ii.  i(S,  A  man  is  not  juslijied  bt/  the  works  of  the 
law,  but  («ay  ^^ri)  by  the  faith  tf  Jesus  Christ ;  where  the  learned  Bishop 
of  Salisbury  has  mistaken  the  sense  of  the  particles  *.  So  in  Aristo- 
phanes, Equit.  185,  6. 

•  Primary  Charge,  1828.     p.  70. 

VOL.   IX. N.S.  K   11 


322  Scholefield's  Hmts  for  an  Improved 


As  the  reading  is  admirably  restored  by  Professor  Bekker. — I  will  not 
enter  further  into  this  criticism  here,  having  more  fully  investigated  it 
in  my  remarks  on  Bishop  Burgess's  translation  of  the  passage  in  Gula- 
tians ;  but  will  only  stop  to  remark,  that  this  use  of  U  /a*}  appears  to  be 
elliptical.  Are  you  born  of  good  parents  ? — No,  (I  am  not  bom  of  any) 
except  base  ones'  * 

xxii.  31.  '^  And  the  Lord  said,  Simon,  Simon,  behold,  Satan 
hath  desired  to  have  you,  that  he  may  sift  you  as  wheat :  But  I 
have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy  faith  fail  not.*"  The  emphatic 
repetition  of  the  Apostle'*s  name  in  this  monitory  address,  and  the 
modern  usage  in  respect  to  the  pronoun,  by  which  the  singular 
and  the  plural  are  confounded,  may  here  mislead  readers,  as  wc 
have  known  some  to  be  misled.  *  You,**  S/xa^,  refers  to  the  whole 
of  the  disciples,  and  both  Campbell  and  Wakefield  convey  the 
sense  by  the  supplementary  addition,  *  to  sift  you  all  as  wheat.** 

xxiii.  32.  This  verse  a])pears  in  different  forms  in  the  Com- 
mon Version,  some  editions  presenting  a  punctuation  which  others 
do  not  exhibit.  We  have,  "  And  there  were  also  two  other  male- 
factors led  with  him  to  be  put  to  death,*^ — and, — *  two  others, 
malefactors,  led.** 

50.  A  good  man,  and  a  just.  avY\^  ayaOhi  *«*  iUaiog,  A  good  and 
just  man. 

54.  The  preparation.  Tra^aa-KEvri,  In  John  xix.  31,  the  Pre- 
paration ; — vs.  42.  preparation  day. 

Acts  i.  20.  '  Bishoprick.'*     rhv  sTna-HOTrriv, 

In  Chap.  xii.  4.,  Professor  Scholefield  very  properly  expunges 
'  after  Easter,""  and  adopts  the  correct  reading,  *  after  the  Pass- 
*  over.'  We  rather  wonder  that  he  has  passed  by  the  present 
passage,  the  error  of  which  is  so  obvious  and  strange.  A  reader 
would  weary  himself  in  his  perusal  of  the  *  Book  of  Psalms  %  without 
finding  '  liishoprick '  in  any  part  of  it.  The  authority  of  King 
James  prevailed  here  above  the  judgement  of  the  Translators ; 
else,  in  so  very  plain  a  case,  the  reading  which  they  have  thrown 
into  the  margin  had  been  the  only  one  sanctioned  by  them.  One 
of  his  Majesty's  rules  directs,  that  the  old  ecclesiastical  words  shall 
be  kept,  and  so  antiquity  and  prejudice  were  honoured  more  than 
truth. 

On  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  the  Hints  are  very  few.  Many 
passages  in  this  epistle  are  so  intricate,  and  so  difficult  of  explica- 
tion, that  every  intelligent  reader  who  seeks  to  understand  them 


*  Preface    to  Two   Sermons   on  Justification  by   Faith,      pp.  30, 
35—7. 


Translation  of  the  New   Testament,  323 

clearly,  will  be  glad  to  receive  as  much  philological  and  critical 
light  as  the  most  accomplished  annotator  may  be  able  to  reflect 
upon  them. 

'  Chap.  V.  20.  Moreover  the  law  entered,  tofMoq  ^i  7ra^?i:i5x0fv.  '  And 
the  law  entered  incidentally.'  I  am  aware  that  this  expression  will 
hardly  suit  the  general  simplicity  of  style  which  so  admirably  charac- 
terizes our  authorized  translation  ;  but  it  is  better  than  another,  which 
is  perhaps  still  more  correct,  entered  by  the  by.  Our  Translators  seem 
to  have  intended  to  express  the  ^ra^a  by  moreover.  Bishop  Middleton 
objects  to  n-apcta^xdsy  being  applied  to  the  Law  of  Moses,  because  that, 
instead  of  entering  privilj/,  came  in  with  much  pomp  and  notoriety. 
But  I  consider  the  sense  of  it  to  be,  that  when  sin  had  entered,  the 
direct  and  obvious  method  would  have  been,  to  introduce  the  gospel  as 
its  great  counteraction  and  remedy ;  instead  of  which,  the  law  came 
first  to  answer  a  collateral  end,  viz.  to  aggravate  the  evil  and  make  it 
more  manifest  and  desperate,  that  men  might  be  most  effectually  pre- 
pared to  welcome  the  blessing.  Thus  it  was  an  indirect  step  towards 
the  accomplishment  of  God's  ultimate  purpose.* 

*  1  Tim,  ii.  6.  To  be  testijied  in  due  titne,  to  fxa^Tvp^ov  xaipoTi 
ilioK-  '  Which  is  the  testimony  for  his  times.'  The  difficulty  of  this 
passage  is  confessed  by  all,  and  is  not  a  little  increased  by  the  presence 
of  the  article.  I  understand  it  to  mean,  that  the  great  fact  of  Christ's 
having  given  himself  a  ransom  for  all,  is  that  which  is  to  be  testified 
by  his  servants  in  his  times,  i.  e.  in  the  times  of  the  gospel :  it  is  to  be 
the  great  subject  of  their  preaching.  Compare  Titus  i.  3.  The  words 
xtttpoV^  2^iot;  occur  in  a  semse  a  little  different  from  this  in  Chap.  vi. 
15.  of  this  Epistle.' 

'iv.  1,  2.  Doctrines  of  devils ;  speaking  lies  in  hypocrisy :  having 
their  conscience  seared  with  a   hot    iron.      J»^a(7xax/aK   Jat^ovt^F,  h 

viroxp*V»    ^tvio>\oyui>   KSKOcvrripioto'iJLevcisv   n^f    l^lav   cvnl^rio-if.      Doctrines   of 

dsemons,  through  the  hypocrisy  of  liars,  who  have  their  own  conscience 
seared  with  a  hot  iron.  If  the  construction  followed  by  our  Translators 
be  admitted,  of  course  -^^iv^oXoy^nv  must  agree  with  ^a^^juonuv ;  whereas 
their  translation  unquestionably  conveys  to  an  English  reader  the  idea 
that  it  agrees  with  t**??,  the  persons  who  depart:  even  on  this 
ground,  some  correction  is  absolutely  necessary.  And  few,  I  think> 
will  doubt,  after  a  full  consideration  of  the  passage,  that  nothing  less 
will  do  than  that  which  I  have  adopted,  which  clears  up  the  whole 
construction  by  introducing  a  term  to  which  the  following  genitives 
may  be  referred ;  whereas  otherwise  they  must  have  belonged  somehow 
or  other  to  ^uhfj^oAm,  the  subject  of  the  heresy,  when  the  sense  of  the 
whole  shews  that  they  belong  to  the  heretics  themselves. — I  have  given 
the  strong  sense,  their  own,  to  \^la.f,  as  intimating  that,  their  own  con- 
science being  seared,  they  have  no  compunction  in  destroying  the  souls 
of  others 

Almost  all  modern  translators  have  seen  the  erroneous  con- 
struction of  the  Common  Version,  and  render  in  a  different 
manner.     ^  Doctrines  of  demons,  through  the  hypocrisy  of  liars, 

R    R   2 


324  Scholefield's  Hints,  Src. 

*  whose  own  conscience  is  seared.''  Doddridge.  *  Doctrines  con- 
'  cerning  demons,  tlirougli  the  hypocrisy  of  liars,  who  are  seared 
'  in  their  own  conscience.'     Macknight.     *  Doctrines  about  dead 

*  men,  through  the  hypocrisy  of  liars  with  a  seared  conscience.^ 
Wakefield. 

Heb.  iv.  2.  '*  For  unto  us  was  the  gospel  preached  as  well  as 
unto  them.'*'  Kal  yap  ko-/xev  EiffiyyeXia-fAivoi,  naOa'Tref  xoKilvot,  This 
passage  describes  the  gospel  as  being  preached  to  the  ancient 
Israelites,  and  the  persons  whom  the  writer  of  the  Epistle 
associates  with  himself,  as  admitted  to  a  participation  of  the  same 
privilege.  It  seems  here  to  be  supposed,  as  Campbell  remarks, 
that  we  all  know  that  the  gospel  was  preached  to  tnem,  but  need 
to  be  informed  that  it  has  ever  been  preached  to  ourselves.  With 
the  proper  rendering  of  the  verb,  and  the  guidance  of  the  context, 
no  attentive  reader  can  fail  of  perceiving  the  sense  of  the  writer. 
^'  For  unto  us  glad  tidings  have  been  published  as  well  as  unto 
them.'*"* 

'  8.  Jesus,  'iricrov^.  Joshua.  Whether  sucli  a  rendering  as  that 
prop<»sed  would  be  consistent  with  the  duty  of  a  fkithful  translator, 
may  perhaps  be  questioned.  But  it  is  to  be  considered,  that  our 
translation  after  all  is  made  for  English  readers,  the  great  bulk  of 
whom  never  enter  into  the  l)earing8  of  the  question  about  the  different 
languages  in  which  the  different  parts  were  written ;  and  consequently 
arc  hopelessly  perplexed  about  the  assertion  here  made  of  Jesus.  The 
Son  of  Nun  is  known  to  them  only  by  the  name  of  Joshua :  it  is  really 
a  bard  lesson  for  them  to  learn  and  reduce  to  practical  use,  that 
Joshua  is  the  same  name  with  Jesus ;  the  difference  between  Jehoram 
and  Joram,  and  other  similar  instances,  is  nothing  to  it.  As  a  practical 
question,  therefore,  in  which  the  spiritual  welfare  of  millions  is  more 
or  less  concerned,  it  may  be  worth  while  to  consider  whether  the 
change  would  not  be  justifiable  ;  especially  as  it  would  occasion  no 
perplexity  to  those  who  understand  the  principles  of  the  respective 
formations  of  the  two  words  from  different  languages/ 

That  many  readers  are  perplexed  or  misled  by  the  reading  of 
the  Common  Version,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  As  perspicuity  is 
the  first  of  all  qualities  in  a  translation,  we  should  not  hesitate  to 
substitute  the  proposed  term,  which  is  adopted  by  almost  all 
modern  translators.  On  the  subject  of  proper  names,  much 
might,  indeed,  be  said,  by  a  fastidious  critic ;  but  it  is  of  more 
importance,  in  such  a  book  as  the  New  Testament,  to  presenre 
common  readers  from  mistaking  its  meaning  in  any  case,  than  to 
contend  for  philological  niceties,  which  can  only  be  appreciated 
by  scholars,  to  whom  a  translation  is  not  an  indispensable  acquisi- 
tion. We  have  heard  it  asked.  Who  is  the  Simeon  mentioned 
Acts,  XV.  14  ?  and  of  whom  no  previous  notice  appears  in  the 
chapter.  The  reference  is  plainly  to  Peter,  whose  speech  is 
rjeported  in  the  preceding  verses :  but  every  one  does  not  perceive 


Martin  07i  Poar  Lairs  for  Ireland.  325 

this.  If  the  text  had  exhibited  the  name  Simon,  every  one  would 
see  the  reference,  as  no  reader  of  the  New  Testament  can  be 
Ignorant  that  Simon  and  Peter  denote  the  same  person.  Why 
the  Translators  did  not  insert  the  name  here,  as  they  have  done 
in  other  places,  it  may  be  difficult  to  discover.  It  may  indeed  be 
suggested,  that  they  have  in  this  instance  followed  the  original, 
which  is  here  not  I.lf^uv  but  I^u/jleuv  ;  but  in  2  Pet.  i.  1,  where  the 
latter  form  appears,  they  render  Simon.  We  should  recommend 
a  uniform  mode  of  designation,  and  to  follow  the  example  of  those 
translators  who  adopt  the  usage  by  which  the  persons  are  best 
known  and  most  easily  recognized ;  — Elijah  rather  than  Elias, 
Elisha  instead  of  Eliseus  Hoshea,  and  not  Osee. 


Art.  V.  Poor  Laws  for  Ireland,  a  Measure  of  Justice  to  England; 
(^  Humanity  to  the  People  of  both  Islands  ;  and  of  Self-preservation 
jor  the  Empire.  With  a  practical  Development  of  an  improved 
System  of  Settlement,  Assessment,  and  Relief.  By  R.  Montgo- 
mery Martin,  Author  of  "  Ireland  as  it  Was,  Is,  and  Oiiglit  to 
Be,"  &c.  8vo.  pp.  49.     Price  2s,  London,  1^33. 

T  REL AND,  without  poor  laws,  has  doubled  her  ragged,  half- 
famished  population  in  thirty- three  years :  England,  with  poor 
laws,  has  not  doubled  its  population  in  less  than  a  century. 
In  Ireland,  where  there  is  no  poor'*s  rate  to  depress  the  rate  of 
wages,  or  to  eke  out  the  labourer's  pittance  with  parish  relief, 
labour  is  worse  paid  than  in  any  other  country  under  a  northern 
clime :  in  England,  labour  is  better  paid  than  m  any  other  old  and 
well  peopled  country.  In  Ireland,  where  there  is  no  provision 
for  the  poor,  to  operate  as  a  premium  upon  marriage  and  an  in- 
demnity for  improvidence,  the  lower  classes  marry  before  they  are 
twenty  years  of  age;  and  their  reckless  indifference  to  the  future, 
aggravated  by  their  extreme  poverty,  is  fast  converting  them  into 
a  nation  of  lazzaroni  and  brigands.  In  England,  under  the  poor 
law  system,  as  it  existed  for  more  than  two  hundred  years,  the 
labouring  classes  acquired  and  maintained  a  character  for  fore- 
thought, decency,  and  economy,  which  raised  them  above  the 
corresponding  classes  in  any  other  nation.  And  still,  notwith- 
standing the  abuses  that  have  vitiated  the  whole  operation  of  that  sys- 
tem, to  compare  the  English  with  the  Irish  poor,  would  be  to  offer 
an  insult  to  the  former,  as  it  would  be  a  cruel  mockery  of  the  latter. 
And  yet,  we  are  sometimes  told,  that  the  redundance  of  popu- 
lation, the  depression  of  wages,  the  spread  of  immorality  in  this 
country,  are  all  owing  to  the  poor  laws !  And  Ireland,  poor  Ire- 
land, were  this  horrible  provision  for  the  poor  to  be  introduced 
there,  would  soon  be  in  as  bad  a  condition  as  England  itself ! 

But  the  truth  is,  that  the  absence  of  a  poor  law  in  Ireland,  is 
one  very  principal  cause  of  the  increase  of  pauperism  in  England  ; 


32G  Martin  on  Poor  Laws  for  Ireland. 

and  one  of  two  results  seems  to  be  inevitable,  if  a  remedy  is  not 
applied  :  either  the  Irish  population  must  be  raised  towards  the 
standard  of  the  average  condition  of  the  English,  or  the  wheat- 
fed  English  labourers  will  be  depressed  to  a  level  with  the  po- 
tatoe-fed  population  of  Ireland.  The  periodical  immigration  of 
myriads  of  pauper  labourers  from  the  sister  island,  is  admitted  to 
have  had  the  effect  of  lowering  the  wages  of  labour  in  England, 
and  consequently  of  lowering  the  character,  as  well  as  condition 
of  the  labouring  classes,  by  depriving  them  of  any  benefit  arising 
from  their  superior  prudence.  The  evidence  brought  before  the 
Select  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  July,  1828, 
proves  the  number  of  persons  coming  from  Ireland  to  this  country 
in  search  of  employment,  to  have  annually  increased  immensely 
during  the  preceding  nine  years ;  and  to  have  been  even  system- 
atically encouraged  by  the  Irish  landlords ;  and  the  Committee 
express  their  decided  conviction,  that,  if  the  present  system  is  to 
continue  unchecked,  the  effects  of  its  operation  will  inevitably  be, 
^  to  throw  upon  England,  and  that  at  no  distant  period,  the  ex- 
'  pense  of  maintaining  the  paupers  of  both  countries.' 

Mr.  Montgomery  Martin  deserves  the  thanks  of  his  country 
for  this  well  timed  and  well  reasoned  appeal  on  behalf  of  ^  the 
^  few  and  scanty  rights  of  the  poor."*  He.  has  condensed  into  a 
few  pages  the  results  of  various  and  extended  investigation;  prov- 
ing  beyond  all  reasonable  question,  that  justice  and  mercy,  policy 
and  humanity,  alike  imperatively  demand  the  prompt  extension 
of  the  law  of  relief  to  the  paupers  of  Ireland  ;  otherwise  England 
herself  may  have  reason  to  join  in  the  cry  of  the  Arch-Agitator 
for  a  repeal  of  the  Union.  We  are  tempted  to  transcribe  the 
following  citation  from  a  speech  of  the  O^'Connell. 

*  "  Who  in  Scotland  lowered  the  condition  of  her  people  by  working 
almost  for  nothing  ?  The  wretch  flying  from  Ireland ! — Who  filled 
the  factories  all  over  England^  and  reduced  the  already  too  low  rate 
of  wages  ?  The  outcast  of  Ireland  !  — Who  made  the  English  poor 
rates  so  burdensome  ?  The  Irish  ! — Who  brought  such  misery  and 
ruin  on  the  agricultural  labourer?  The  forlorn  Irishman  coming  from 
the  wilds  of  Connaught,  aud  slaving  for  that  which  an  English  la- 
bourer would  turn  from  with  disgust ! — What  gentleman  would  sug- 
gest a  plan  for  this  growing  curse  ?  There  is  no  remedy  but  a  Repeal 
of  the  Union,  or,  as  some  think,  the  enactment  of  Poor  Laws  for  Ire- 
land." *    p.  11. 

As  some  think !  Yes,  and  Mr.  OX'onnell  knows^  that  this 
would  be,  not  indeed  in  itself  a  sovereign  or  sufficient  remedy  for 
the  complicated  disorders  of  his  faction-torn,  church-ridden 
country,  but  a  far  more  salutary  and  beneficent  measure,  one  that 
would  conduce  more  to  its  present  tranquillity  and  the  eventual 
melioration  of  its  condition,  than  any  other  legislative  measure 
that  could  be  adopted. 


Martin  on  Poor  Laws  for  Ireland.  38fJ 

The  equitable  right  of  the  poor  to  a  legislative  provision  for 
their  protection  and  relief,  has  been  called  in  question  by  one- 
aided  theorists  and  cold-blooded  utilitarians,  who  consider  that 
starvation  is  a  just  punishment  of  those  individuals  who  obtrude 
themselves  into  existence  without  being  called  for  by  the  capi- 
talist. Mr.  Martin  has  shewn,  in  a  few  words,  that  this  right  is 
created  by  the  very  nature  of  civil  society,  being  but  an  equivalent 
for  the  restrictions  under  which  the  poor  man  is  laid  by  the  laws 
created  for  the  protection  of  the  property  of  the  rich.     *  By  what 

*  right,'  asks  the  Bishop  of  Cloyne,  (Woodward),  *  did  the  rich 

*  take  upon  them  to  enact  certain  laws  which  compel  the  poor 

*  man  to  become  a  member  of  their  society, —  which  preclude  him 

*  from  any  share  of  the  land  where  he  was  bom,  any  use  of  its 
^  spontaneous  fruits,  or  any  dominion  over  the  beasts  of  the  field, 

*  on  pain  of  stripes,  imprisonment,  or  death  ; — ^how  can   they 

*  justify  their  exclusive  property  in  the  common  heritage  of  man- 

*  kind,  unless  they  consent  in  return  to  provide  for  the  subsistence 

*  of  the  poor,  who  are  excluded  from  those  common  rights,   by 

*  laws  of  the  rich  to  which  the  poor  were  never  parties  ?'' — Lan- 
guage like  this  becomes  a  Christian  bishop.  To  shew  that  he  is 
not  singular  in  the  opinion,  tliat  nothing  but  such  a  provision  for 
the  poor  will  improve  the  condition  of  Ireland,  Mr.  Martin  cites 
the  forcible  declaration  of  the  Roman  Catholic  prelate,  Dr.  Doyle, 
before  the  Select  Committee  on  the  state  of  the  Irish  Poor  in 

*  When  asked  whether  there  was  any  other  measure  necessary  for 
the  purpose  of  facilitating  and  encouraging  the  application  of  capital 
in  Ireland,  this  exemplary  pastor  says :  *'  I  think  that  measure  (Poor 
Laws)  alone  in  its  operation  would  produce  that  result  in  as  great  a 
-d^ree  as  would  be  consistent  with  the  preservation  of  the  moral  pro- 
gress of  society  in  Ireland,  indepeiidentfy  of  all  other  measures,  I  have 
beard  of  an  act  of  parliament  for  the  purpose  of  encouraging  the  drain- 
ing of  bogs,  sinking  the  beds  of  rivers,  fixing  the  limits  of  estates,  and 
enabling  people  under  settlements  to  make  leases  of  lands.  I  know 
that  these  measures  would  be  subsidiary  to,  and  greatly  assist,  the 
other ;  bot  the  other  I  consider  the  main  measure,  so  much  so,  that 
without  it  every  other  act  of  the  legislature  that  may  be  passed  for  the 
improvement  of  Ireland  will,  in  my  opinion, ^fliV  to  produce  the  effects 
that  are  hoped  from  them." 

*  But  methinks  I  hear  it  said,  ''  Laws  should  not  be  made  exclusively 
either  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  or  for  the  benefit  of  the  rich." 
Granted : — can  it  however  be  said,  that  a  law  which  provides  for  the 
comfort  of  the  sick,  maimed,  and  aged,  and  aflfords  hard  labour  and 
bare  subsistence  to  the  unemployed,  and  at  the  same  time  secures  the 
peace  of  the  country,  the  stability  of  the  government,  and  the  security 
of  the  wealthy — can  such  a  law  be  said  to  be  enacted  merely  for  the 
benefit  of  the  poor  ?  Certainly  not.  Ireland  possesses  in  a  pre-eminent 
degree  the  main  ingredients  of  wealth  and  social  happiness,  namely,  an 
exuberantly  fertile  soil,  uiid  a  superabundance  of  active  and  intelligent 


328  Martin  on  Poor  Laws  for  Ireland. 

labourers^  which  only  requires  for  its  extensive  development  the  appli- 
cation of  capital.     Dr.  Doyle  (and  no  man  knows  the  condition  of  Ire- 
land better)  says :  ''  I  have  no  doubt  that  a  compulsory  rate  would 
have  the  effect  of  increasing  the  capital  to  be  usefully  employed  in 
Ireland.     I  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  a  legal  assessment,  whidi 
would  take  a  certain  quantity  of  money  from  those  who  now  spend  it 
in  luxuries  or  in  distant  countries,  and  which  would  employ  that 
money  in  the  application  of  labour  to  land  in  Ireland,  would  be  pro- 
ductive of  the  utmost  benefit  to  the  country  at  large ;  and  I  think 
that  benefit;  so  far  from  being  confined  to  the  poor  themselves,  or  to  | 
the  class  of  labourers  immediately  above  the  destitute,  would  ulti- 
mately, and  at  no  distant  day,  redound  to  the  advantage  of  those  pro- 
prieiors  out  of  whose  present  income  I  would  suppose  the  chief  portion 
of  that  income  to  be  taken.    The  reason  of  my  opinion  is,  that  when  the 
proprietors  of  the  soil  of  Ireland  would  be  assessed  for  the  relief  of  the 
poor,  they  would  be  impelled «  by  a  consideration  of  self-interest,  to  watdi 
over  the  levies  to  be  made  of  their  property,  and  over  the  application  of 
those  levies ;  and  that  the  necessity  of  doing  so  would  induce  many  of 
them  now  absent,  and  more  particularly  those  of  moderate  income,  to  re- 
side in  Ireland.    Then  with  regard  to  the  money  thus  levied,  and  with 
which  the  committee  would  be  enabled  to  give  employment  to  able 
bodies  in  times  of  want  and  distress,  if  that  money  were  employed, 
whether  in  public  works  or  by  the  owners  of  land  in  useful  improve- 
ments, I  have  uo  doubt  but  lands  which  are  now  enclosed  would  rise 
very  mucH  in  value,  the  quality  of  the  tillage  be  considerably  im- 
proved, and  that  of  agricultural  produce  greatly  altered  for  the  better; 
so  that,  in  fact,  every  thing  which  constitutes  property  in   Ireland 
would  gradually  become  better  and  more  valuable  than  it  now  is,  or 
than  it  ever  will  be  under  the  present  system."     Here  we  see  in  a  few 
words  the  vast  advantages  which  would  accrue  to  the  rich  as  well  as 
to  the  poor,  from  the  establishment  of  a  legislative  provision  for  the 
latter.     There  are  17^190,726  acres  of  land  in  Ireland,  which,  yield- 
ing on  an  average  so  low  as  ci  5  worth  of  produce  per  acre,  would  yield 
an  annual  income  of  landed  produce  to  the  amount  of  one  hundred  mil' 
lion  sterling,  whereas  the  total  value  of  landed  produce  in  Ireland  at 
present  is  but  c£  45,000,000. 

^  To  ascribe,  therefore,  the  periodical  or  general  distress  in  Ireland 
merely  to  a  redundant  population,  is  a  monstrous  fallacy.  £very  one 
cries  out  for  the  employment  of  capital  in  Ireland,  in  order  to  relieve 
the  poor,  or  fur  a  tax  u|)on  absentees.  Dr.  Doyle  shows  clearly,  that 
both  these  measures  will  be  accomplished  by  the  int^position  of  the 
Legislature  in  attending  to  the  interests  of  the  poor.  Tnis  politic,  and 
at  the  same  time  comprehensively  benevolent  man,  says  :  "  Capital  is 
not  employed  in  Ireland,  because  there  are  many  causes  which  deter 
men  from  eml>arking  capital  in  a  country,  which  could  bo  employed 
with  more  safety,  if  not  with  more  profit,  in  another.  The  chief  ol>- 
stacle  to  the  employment  of  capital  in  the  improvement  of  lands,  or  the 
establishment  of  manufactures  in  Ireland,  is  the  unsettled  state  ^  the 
population  in  that  country,  the  nightly  outrages  which  result  from  that 
state,  as  well  as  the  want  of  character  in  the  common  people  them- 
selves.    All  those  things  tend  very  much  to  prevent  the  iuvcstmcnt  of 


Martin  on  Poor  Laws  for  Ireland.  329 

cspital  in  land  in  Ireland^  by  men  who,  if  society  were  better  arranged, 
would  not  hesitate  so  to  vest  it.  I  think,  therefore,  it  would  be  the 
duty  of  the  Legislature  to  open  wider  the  prospect  of  usefully  employ* 
ing  capital  in  Ireland;  to  give  greater  facilities  and  encouragements  to 
the  investments  of  capital ;  to  hold  out  inducements  to  men  to  settle  in 
that  country,  by  preparing  for  them  a  quiet  and  well-ordered  popula- 
tion. 

' "  But  these  preparations  cannot  be  made  by  the  natural  force  of 
things,  but  to  produce  them  it  is  necessary  that  the  Legislature  should 
interpose.  Again,  there  are  a  great  many  persons,  some  of  whom  I 
know  personally,  and  many  by  character,  who  are  at  present  absent 
from  Ireland ;  men  of  limited  fortunes,  who  are  invited  by  the  luxuries 
and  ease  and  the  improved  state  of  society  in  foreign  countries  to  be 
absent.  If  those  persons  were  threatened  with  an  assessment  upon 
their  property,  such  threat  would  urge  them  upon  one  side,  whilst  a 
better  system  of  society  existing  at  home  would  invite  them  upon  the 
other ;  and  those  two  causes  thus  operating,  would,  no  doubt,  produce 
the  effect  of  leading  those  men  both  to  dwell  at  home,  and  to  invest 
capital  in  that  country  which  they  now  desert." 

'  There  is  another  benefit,  no  less  important,  to  be  derived  from  the 
introduction  of  poor  laws  in  Ireland,  which  the  politician  and  the 
Christian  are  equally  interested  in  obtaining  for  my  unfortunate 
country,  and  that  is,  the  associating  tc^ether  of  Protestants  and 
Catholics  in  the  holy  offices  of  charity,  and  in  fulfilling  the  commands 
of  our  Blessed  Redeemer  by  administering  to  the  necessities  of  our 
fellow-creatures,  no  matter  tne  form  of  religion  which  they  have  been 
taught.  The  instance  detailed  at  questions  4500  and  4501  of  the 
evidence  shews  the  value  of  such  spiritual  communion. 

*  There  is  one  more  view  of  the  question  as  to  the  necessity  of  imme- 
diately introducing  poor  laws,  which,  however  desirous  I  may  be  to 
compress  these  pages,  I  cannot  avoid  adverting  to ;  it  is  the  rapid,  the 
frightful,  the  appalling— -physical  as  well  as  moral — degeneration  of 
the  poor  of  Ireland.  Dr.  Doyle  stated  to  the  Committee  (and  thousands 
can  corroborate  his  assertion),  that  "  at  a  period  within  his  recollection 
the  labouring  men  in  Ireland  were  much  more  manly — much  more 
strong — much  more  animated,  and  altogether  a  better  race  of  people 
than  they  now  are.  I  recollect,  when  a  boy,  to  see  them  assemble  at 
public  sports  in  thousands,  and  to  witness  on  such  occasions,  exhibitions 
of  strength  and  activity  which  I  have  not  witnessed  for  some  years 
past,  for  at  present  they  have  not  either  the  power  or  the  disposition  to 
practise  those  athletic  sports  and  games  which  were  frequent  in  our 
country  when  I  was  a  youth.  Moreover,  I  now  see  persons  who  get 
married  between  twenty  and  thirty  years  of  age ;  they  become  poor, 
weakly,  and  emaciated  in  their  appearance ;  and  vcrv  often,  if  you 
question  a  man  and  ask  him  what  age  he  is,  you  will  ^nd  he  has  not 
passed  fifty.  We  have,  in  short,  a  disorganized  population,  becoming 
by  their  poverty  more  and  more  immoral,  and  less  and  less  capable  of 
providing  for  themselves ;  and  we  have,  besides  that,  the  frightful,  and 
awful,  and  terrific  exhibition  of  human  life  wasted  with  a  rapidity,  and 
to  a  degree,  such  as  is  not  witnessed  in  any  civilized  country  upon  the 
fiace  of  the  earth. 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  s   $ 


330  Martin  on  Poor  Laws  fitr  Ireland. 


C   i€ 


4529.  If  human  life  be  wasting  with  that  rapiditj»  how  do  yon 
account  for  the  circumstance  of  the  population  being  augmenting  with 
a  greater  rapidity  than  that  of  Great  Britain  ?— I  do  not  think  that  the 
wasting  of  population  in  the  manner  described  is  a  very  considerable 
check  to  the  multiplication  of  the  species ;  because,  when  a  child  is 
taken  away>  or  an  old  or  a  young  man  dies^  there  is  room,  as  it  were, 
made  for  another ;  and  as  we  Hud  that  in  countries  sending  their  chil- 
dren to  found  colonies,  that  such  drain  fur  the  purpose  of  ooloaiaation, 
if  there  be  no  other  check,  instead  of  diminishing  augments  the  popu- 
lation of  the  mother-country^  so  in  like  manner  that  ni'aste  of  human 
life,  in  the  manner  that  it  talces  place  in  Ireland,  does  not  retard  the 
multiplication  of  the  people.  However,  the  children  begotten  by  the 
poor  in  that  state  of  society  to  which  the  question  refers,  become  of  an 
inferior  caste ;  the  whole  character  of  the  people  becomes  gradually 
worse  and  worse ;  they  diminish  in  stature  ;  they  are  enervated  in  mind  $ 
the  whole  energy  and  character  of  the  population  is  gradually  deierio' 
rated;  till  at  Tensth  you  have  the  inhabitants  of  one  of  the  finest  coun- 
tries in  the  world  reauced  to  a  state  of  effeminacy  which  makes  them 
little  better  than  the  Lazzaroni  of  Naples,  or  the  Hindoos  on  the  coast 
of  Malabar."  ! ! !  ♦ ' 

Mr.  Martin  admits,  (and  the  admission  is  an  important  one  in 
all  its  bearings,)  that,  since  the  Union,  a  progressive  improve- 
ment  has  taken  place  in  Ireland,  as  regards  the  landed  gentry,  the 
farmers,  the  merchants,  and  the  traders  and  shopkeepers.  In 
fact,  the  wealth  of  the  church  and  of  the  landed  proprietors  has 
been  prodigiously  increased  by  the  extension  of  tUlage ;  but  the 
mass  of  the  peasantry  have  meanwhile  been  only  ainking  the 
lower  into  abject  and  helpless  poverty.  From  this,  Mr.  Martin 
remarks,  no  suppression  bill,  no  coercive  measures,  no  cutting 
down  of  the  over-grown  church,  no  amendment  of  the  grand  jury 
laws,  no  modification  of  the  law  of  tenant  and  landlord,  no  ab- 
sentee tax,  no  repeal  of  the  Union  will  relieve  them ; — altfaoc^, 
with  the  exception  of  the  last,  and  of  the  temporary  measutes  for 
repressing  brigandage  and  predial  agitation,  each  of  these  mea- 
sures woudd  be  of  important  benefit.  But  that  which  alone  will 
draw  together  the  bonds  of  civil  society  in  Ireland,  and  make  the 
property  of  the  absentee  effectually  tributary  to  the  general  pros- 
perity of  the  country  he  has  deserted,  is  a  legislative  ptroviaion 
for  the  relief  and  employment  of  the  labouring  dasaea. 

After  disposing  of  the  objections  against  such  a  measure,  Mr. 
Martin,  in  his  finirth  chapter,  briefly  explains  the  modificatioMS 
in  the  system  of  settlement,  assessment,  aTNl  relief,  which  he 
deems  desirable,  in  application  to  Ireland.  He  proposes,  in  the 
first  place,  to  make  birth  the  sole  ground  of  settlement ;  and,  to 
carry  the  law  into  effect,  suggests  that  a  general  registration 

should  take  place  throughout  the  island.     Secondly,  the  rate  or 

■  ■         ■      ■  .  .  »       ■     '  ■ 

*  Evidence  before  the  Select  Committee,  4th  June  ItSSfk 


Martin  on  Poor  Laws  for  Ireland.  331 

assessment  should  be  levied,  not,  as  in  England,  upon  industry, 
but  upon  real  property,  and  be  kept  distinct  from  county,  high- 
way, or  church  rates.  Thirdly,  to  guard  against  abuses  in  the 
administration  of  relief,  no  money  should  be  paid  to  the  pauper. 

'  Ireland  contains  5,000,000  acres  of  reclaimable  bog  land,  is  in  want 
of  roads  and  canals,  &c.,  and  by  having  large  houses  of  industry  built 
in  every  city,  corporate  town,  or  barony,  abundance  of  labour  can  be 

Provided  for  those  who  must  merely  receive  in  return  bare  subsistence, 
'he  plan  of  the  house  of  industry  at  Liverpool,  which  is  capable  of 
contaming  1,500  paupers,  is  well  worthy  of  adoption;  taking  care  to 
have  a  large  piece  of  land  with  each  establishment,  and  dividing  the 
house  into  an  asylum  for  the  aged  and  maimed,  and  a  temporary 
shelter  for  the  houseless  and  destitute. 

'  In  cases  where  a  large  family  are  thrown  out  to  die  in  the  ditch, 
or  to  beg  their  way  through  the  land,  if  the  parents  can  6nd  daily 
work,  but  are  unable  to  support  their  children,  let  the  children  be 
taken  in  to  the  school  house ;  if  the  husband  be  unable  to  support  the 
wife,  or  the  wife  unable  to  support  herself,  let  her  be  taken  into  the 
workhouse ;  and  if  the  father  be  still  unable  to  get  employment,  let 
him  also  be  provided  with  fpork  and  food,  but  on  no  account  let  there 
be  an  addition  to  wages  while  the  pauper  can  get  employment ;  he 
mast  either  enter  the  house  of  industry  fit  iolo  or  not  at  all.*  The  effi*- 
cacy  of  this  plan  has  been  tried  in  various  parts  of  England,  and 
abundant  testimony  can  readily  be  had  as  to  its  good  effects.' 

pp.  47,  48. 

These  suggestions  are  highly  deserving  of  attention,  not  merely 
in  reference  to  Ireland,  but  as  respects  tne  administration  of  the 
English  poor  laws. 

Mr.  Martin  has,  with  commendable  discretion,  forborne  to 
touch  upon  the  delicate  point,  how  far  a  portion  of  the  church 
property  may  be  made  available  as  a  fiind  for  the  employment 
and  relief  of  the  poor.  This  was,  unquestionably,  one  of  the 
purposes  to  which  the  tithe  was  originally  consecrated  ;  and  the 
Church  and  the  Poor  were  for  many  centuries  co  partners  in  the 
proceeds.  The  existence  of  an  Ecclesiastical  Establishment, 
without  either  a  civil  or  an  ecclesiastical  provision  for  the  poor, 
is  not  merelv  an  anomaly,  such  as  no  civilized  or  semi'civili^ed 
country  exhibits ;  but  carries,  on  the  face  of  it,  the  proof  of  a 
breach  of  trust, — ^involving  an  unjust  and  anti-Christian  robbery 
of  those  who  were  the  wards  of  the  Church,  and  whose  rights 
were  reserved  in  the  original  grant  upon  which  her  own  tenure 
is  founded.  It  is  no  excuse  to  allege,  that  the  aristocrasy  has 
plundered  the  Church,  which  has  plundered  the  poor ;  that  the 
spoiler  has  been  herself  spoiled.  Wherever  an  Ecclesiastical 
Establishment  exists,  the  Church  will  be  found  either  the  anta- 
gonist and  counterbalance  of  the  aristocrasy,  or  its  creature  and 
tributary.  A  church  established  means,  in  effect,  a  clergy  jjj 
bondage.    The  robbery  committed  on  thi  Irish  poor  may  p^^. 

S  8  ^ 


332  Clarke^^s  View  of  Sacred  Literature* 

haps,  fairly  lie  at  the  door  of  the  aristocrasy,  thooffh  done  under 
cover  of  the  Establishment ;  but  the  fact  of  the  roboery,  whereTer 
the  guilt  may  lie,  is  palpable;  and  wherever  the  property  is 
found,  it  ought  to  be  made  to  yield  up  something  by  way  of  re- 
stitution, in  spite  of  the  interested  and  hypocritical  cry  of  Spo- 
liation. 


Art.  VI.  A  Concise  View  of  the  Succession  of  Sacred  Liieraittre,  io 
a  Chronological  Arrangement  of  Authors  and  their  Works^  fnm 
the  Invention  of  Alphabetical  Characters^  to  the  Year  of  our  Lord 
1300.  Vol.  II.  By  J.  B.  B.  Clarke,  M.A.  8vo.  pp.  770. 
London,  1832. 

^T^HE  original  design  of  the  Authors  of  this  work  was,  to  con- 
-''  tinue  the  Succession  of  Ecclesiastical  and  Theological  writers 
to  the  period  when  printing  was  invented,  about  the  middle  of  the 
fifteenth  century.  In  the  Volume  before  us,  the  work  is  con- 
cluded, and  terminates  with  the  year  1299*  For  this  deviation, 
the  present  Author  assigns  reasons  which  his  readers  will  scarcely 
fail  to  regard  as  valid  ones,  when  they  shall  have  accompanied  him 
in  his  progress  through  the  catalogue  of  Writers  who  hved  in  the 
thirteenth  and  the  preceding  century,  in  which  but  few  names 
worthy  of  being  noticed  are  to  be  found.  William  of  Sandwich, 
Radulfus  Bockingus,  and  Elias  of  Trickyngham,  cum  multis 
aliisy  were  writers  from  whom  neither  instruction  nor  pleasure 
could  be  obtained  ;  and  Mr.  Clarke  may  well  be  excused  nrom  the 
unprofitable  labour  of  transcribing  their  names,  and  marshalling 
their  valueless  productions.  We  should  not,  indeed,  have  found 
fault  with  him,  if  he  had  continued  the  succession,  through  the 
later  periods,  by  a  selection  of  principal  writers,  without  durawing 
from  the  obscurity  in  which  they  have  so  long  reposed,  so  many 
neglected  and  forgotten  Authors.  The  principal  writers  of  whom 
and  their  works  an  account  is  given  in  the  present  volume,  are 
Augustine,  Chrysostom,  Cyril  of  Alexandria,  and  Theodoret. 
To  these  fathers,  one  himdred  and  forty  pages  are  appropriated ; 
and  over  the  remaining  pages,  amounting  to  six  hundred  and 
thirty,  are  spread  the  names  of  about  thirteen  hundred  authors. 
From  such  a  catalogue,  but  little  of  instruction  or  of  interest  can 
be  expected  by  a  general  reader,  whose  obligations  to  the  Author 
will  therefore  arise  from  the  value  of  the  information  conveyed  in 
respect  to  the  more  celebrated  writers.  IVIany  have  heaitl  and 
read  of  Augustine  and  Chrysostom,  who  are  scarcely  acquainted 
with  the  subjects  of  their  works,  and  to  whom  the  sketcnes  and 
analyses  contained  in  these  pages  will  supply  a  sufficiency  of  in- 
struction, to  enable  them  to  understand  the  nature]  of  those  pro- 
ductions to  which  they  are  indebted  for  their  celebrity.  Mr. 
darkey's  work  is  rendered  less  inviting  by  the  catalogue  form  in 


Clarke^s  View  of  Sacred  Literature.  383 

which  so  much  of  this  part  of  it  appears ;  but,  as  a  useftil  guide 
to  the  student,  it  could  not  be  superseded  by  any  other  extant 
book  in  English  Literature. 

We  much  doubt,  however,  whether  this  or  any  other  work  will 
excite  to  the  study  of  the  Fathers,  in  such  manner  as  to  revive 
any  thing  like  a  general  attention  to  them,  even  among  divines 
themselves.  For  the  neglect  into  which  they  are  fallen,  many 
reasons  may  be  assigned.  They  are  no  longer  the  only,  or  the 
principal  sources  from  which  the  materials  of  theological  learning 
can  be  drawn ;  and  other  and  better  guides  to  direct  the  studies 
of  the  inquisitive,  are  now  every  where  at  hand.  The  disuse  of 
the  Fathers  was  a  natural  consequence  of  the  freedom  acquired  at 
the  Reformation  from  the  despotism  of  the  Romish  Church,  the 
usurpations  of  which  were,  in  many  instances,  and  to  a  great  ex- 
tent, associated  with  the  authority  of  their  names.  To  that  proud 
elevation,  they  can  no  more  be  raised.  Questions  of  the  last  im- 
portance to  mankind,  will  never  again  be  settled  by  a  quotation 
from  Jerome,  or  an  appeal  to  Cyprian.  Every  error,  every  delu- 
sion, every  corruption  of  Christian  doctrine,  may  be  traced  to  the 
Fathers.  And  it  was  on  account  of  the  corruptions  and  the  de- 
ceptions which  they  originated  and  extended,  that  their  authority 
was  maintained.  Their  real  excellences  were  never  of  primary 
consideration  in  the  times  when  they  were  most  venerated.  By 
their  depression,  much  has  been  gained  to  the  cause  of  truth  and 
liberty.  An  acquaintance  with  them,  however,  may  now  be  of 
great  advantage  to  those  who  possess  the  leisure  and  the  means  of 
using  them.  Among  them,  unquestionably,  are  to  be  found  some 
of  the  noblest  monuments  of  zeal  and  knowledge,  eloquence  and 
holiness;  and  of  such  of  them  as  may  be  most  profitably  employed 
as  affording  excitements  to  devotion  and  religious  duties,  so  pure 
and  elevated,  the  notices  before  us  are  of  much  value. 

It  is  well  observed  by  Mr.  Clarke,  that  the  Greek  writers  are 
on  every  account  to  be  generally  preferred,  being  more  free  from 
doctrinal  errors,  and  less  pledged  to  the  support  of  ecclesiastical 
dominion,  than  the  Latin.  A  Dissertation  on  the  Use  of  the 
Fathers,  was  designed  as  an  Introduction  to  the  Work  before  us ; 
but  the  size  of  the  book  has  induced  the  Author  to  reserve  it* 
Several  works  of  this  kind  have  already  appeared.  That  of  Daille 
is  well  known,  though  now  but  little  read.  But,  as  Mr.  Clarke 
would  necessarily  adapt  his  Dissertation  to  the  present  state  of 
theological  literature,  and  to  readers  in  these  times,  its  publication 
might  be  a  real  service  to  the  cause  of  sound  learning.  The  use 
of  the  Fathers  to  which  Mr.  Clarke  would  excite,  would  certainly 
be  a  cautious  one.     ^  It  is  well,^  he  remarks,  ^  that  we  are  emanci- 

*  pated  on  points  of  doctrine  from  the  authority  of  even  the  pure 

*  Fathers.'*    p.  68.     And,  again,  p.  81,  ^  Those  Protestants  who 

*  still  stidde  for  the  authority  of  the  Fathers  upon  points  of  doc- 


334  Clarke's  View  of  Sacred  Liieraiure. 

^  trine,  can  scarcely  know  the  snares  among  which  they  art 
*  walking.' 

From  the  account  of  Chrysostom,  pp.  60 — 104,  we  shall  extract 
the  sketch  of  his  character. 

'  There  is  no  ecclesiastical  writer  from  whom  so  much  general  inform- 
ation can  be  obtained  as  from  Chrysostom :  the  manners  and  cusiamt 
of  the  day  are  frequently  introduasd  into  his  orations ;  the  supersH' 
tions  and  elegtiut  Jollies  of  the  times  are  made  subjects  of  his  reproba- 
tion ;  he  enters  into  domestic  society,  and  shews  us  how  it  was  rormed 
and  regulated ;  the  sports  of  the  low,  and  the  amusements  of  the  hiefaj 
are  made  fruitful  themes  for  instruction ;  contemporaneous  history  m- 
quently  receives  light,  and  there  are  few  events  of  even  a  trifling  na- 
ture^  from  which  he  does  not  shew  instruction  can  be  derived.  His 
morality  is  not  of  that  ascetic  cast  which  renders  the  manners  rough, 
and  the  religion  revolting,  of  too  many  of  the  holy  men  of  those  times ; 
so  long  as  there  was  a  pure  heart  and  an  upright  life,  Chrysostom  did 
not  teach  that  the  soul  would  perish  because  sackcloth  was  not  worn, 
that  it  could  not  grow  in  grace  because  the  body  was  not  emaciated, 
and  that  it  could  not  hold  communion  with  its  Ood,  unless  amid  the 
bleak  air  of  a  mountain- top,  or  the  burning  desolation  of  an  arid  desert: 
self-denial  he  considers  as  an  exalted  virtue,  but  total  abstemiousness 
from  the  use  of  allowed  pleasures,  he  did  not  regard  as  absolutely  ne- 
cessary. He  is  a  strenuous  supporter  of  strict  ecclesiastical  disdpUme, 
and  though  a  high  favorer  of  monkish  establishments,  he  does  not 
represent  them  as  entirely  essential  to  the  prosperity  of  Christianity: 
most  things  referring  to  discipline,  or  doctrine,  or  occurrences  in  the 
Church,  are  in  some  place  noticed,  from  the  decrees  of  eonncils  and 
words  of  an  established  Liturgy,  to  the  oft-repeated  intermptions  oc- 
casioned by  the  noisy  plaudits  of  a  delighted  audience. 

'  As  a  Commentator,  Chrysostom  is  peculiarly  valuable ;  he  has  no 
allegorical  flights  nor  petty  conceits,  but  he  confines  himself  to  literal 
interpretation  and  practical  advice ;  important  passages  are  proved  to 
have  a  foil  signification,  by  strong  reasoning  enforced  by  powerful  elo- 
quence, and  portions  of  apparently  less  moment  are  made  advisers  of 
hish  and  holy  things ;  a  word  will  sometimes  be  shewn  to  add  nnspeak- 
able  force,  and  a  common  event  will  evidently  contain  matter  for  asto- 
nishing and  deep  consideration. 

*  The  style  or  this  Father  is  exactly  characteristic  of  his  manner  of 
thinking, — clear,  and  full,  and  ornate :  the  diction  never  shodcs  the  ear 
by  rugged  progress,  nor  by  abrupt  nor  harsh  conclnsions  of  sentences : 
it  is  flowingly  majestic  and  singuhu*ly  suited  to  the  majesty  of  his 
thoughts ;  the  sentences  do  not  fatigue  the  ear  by  length,  nor  pnasle 
the  mind  by  involution,  and  great  vividness  and  interest  is  (are)  given 
to  the  subject  in  discussion,  by  frequent  and  unexpected  interrogato- 
ries, which  some  of  his  clumsy  imitators  afl^ecting,  tney  have  discovered 
themselves  by  their  overloaded  disguise :  the  chief  imperfection  may 
perhaps  be  a  sameness  of  language  upon  all  subjects, — the  torrent  still 
sweeps  along,  whether  a  mountain  or  a  mole-hill  have  opposed  its 
course.  The  fertib'ty  of  his  imagination  is  one  of  the  commanding 
excellences  of  Chrysostom's  writings ;  he  abounds  in  imagery^  and  none 


Clarke^s  View  of  Sacred  Literature,  936 

of  it  is  too  ^werful  for  the  control  of  the  summoning  Enchanter^  nor 
does  it  overstep  the  circle  which  should  keep  it  from  breaking  in  upon 
the  knowledge  that  is  to  guide  it.  His  pathos  is  too  much  expanded 
to  be  effective^  nor  is  there  the  forcible  simplicity  of  unstudied  language 
which  Nature  acknowledges  as  her  own  by  involuntary  approbation 
and  heart-felt  pleasure ;  the  Orator  is  apt  to  appear  where  art  should 
be  entirely  shrouded :  hence  the  secret  source  of  tears  seems  to  have 
been  hidden  from  Chrysostom,  nor  is  he  frequently  successful  in  excit- 
ing the  gentle^  or  pleasing,  or  mournful  emotions  of  the  soul ;  his  march 
18  that  of  a  victonous  monarch,  splendid  in  retinue  and  gorgeous  in  at- 
tire, but  lunid  the  whole  of  the  pomp  are  to  be  discovered  the  instru- 
ments of  power  and  conquest, — under  the  gold  and  purple  of  the  robe 
are  seen  the  panoply  of  polished  proof, — and  his  dominion  is  the  result 
of  £»rce  and  not  of  persuasion.'     pp.  99 — 102. 

Of  the  merits  of  a  Divine  whose  worth  will  not  be  known  till 
an  answer  be  given  to  the  question,  '  Whether  a  Platonic  idea, 
'  hovering  to  the  right  on  the  orifice  of  Chaos,  might  drive  away 

*  the  squadrons  of  democratical  atoms  F*  our  readers  must,  we 
apprehend,  remain  ignorant ;  but  such  a  question  may  serve  to 
anew  them  the  miserable  obscurities  and  the  mystic  jargon  which 
have  been  mixed  up  with  Christian  theology,  and  may  satisfy 
them  in  respect  to  the  character  of  Synesius  as  a  Platonic  divine. 
Of  the  turbulent  Cyril  of  Alexandria,  to  whom  the  Romish 
Church  is  so  much  indebted  for  asserting  the  appropriation  of  the 
title,  *  Mother  of  God,^  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  a  very  just  account 
is  given  by  Mr.  Clarke  (pp.  136 — 146) ;  and  few  of  those  who 
read  it,  will  be  anxious  to  study  the  works  of  a  writer  *  who  shrouds 
^  with  blackness  what  was  before  obscure,  and  inextricably  en- 
^  tangles  what  was  perplexed.^      In  the  account  of  Theodoret^ 

*  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  even  the  most  valuable  Fathers,** 
(pp.  164—185,)  we  find  some  remarks  which  every  reader  of  the 
Fathers  and  early  ecclesiastical  historians  should  understand^ 
and  the  spirit  of  which  will  induce  him  to  reverse  many  of 
the  jnd^ents  pronounced  by  them.  We  agree  with  Mr.  Clarke, 
that  ^  It  wiHild  not  be  difficult  to  prove,  that  some  of  those  termed 

*  heresiarchs  were  maintainors  of  pure  doctrine,  and  restorers  o£ 

*  the  ancient  faith.^ 

We  Aall  extract  the  two  following  articles. 

'  BOETIUS,  A.D.  510. 
'  Sprung  from  one  of  the  most  illustrious  families  of  Rome^  An. 
Man.  Torq.  Severing  Boetius  was  educated  according  to  his  rank : 
for  eighteen  years  he  studied  at  Athens,  the  unirersity  of  the  Roman 
world.  A.  U.  487;  he  was  created  consul ;  he  was  afterwards  raised 
by  Theodoric  to  be  Magister  Palatii ;  in  510  he  again  bore  the  consular 
office;  and  in  522  he  was  constituted  consul  for  the  third  time. 
Shortly  after  this,  he  fell  into  suspicion  with  Theodoric,  and  there  were 
not  wanting  accusers  to  hasten  the  down&l  of  a  favorite :  Gaudentius, 
Opilio,  and  Basiliua  charged  him  with  endeavouring  to  restore  Rome 


336  Clarke's  Vieih  of  Sacred  Literature. 

to  its  original  republican  government ;  the  accusation  was  beliered>  or 
at  any  rate  acted  on^  and  Boetius  was  sent  by  the  king  to  expiate  his 
virtues  in  a  prison  at  Pavia,  where>  after  some  time  had  elapaedj  he 
was  beheaded  by  the  king's  order.  Boetius  was  author  of  several 
works  on  Theology^  Philosophy^  Science^  Loeic,  with  some  contro- 
versial Works :  those  only  will  be  here  noticed  that  have  reference  to 
the  object  of  this  work. 

'  Against  Eutyches  and  Nestorius* — A  Treatise  on  the  two  Natures 
of  Christ  contained  in  one  Person ;  it  is  addressed  to  John^  a  deacon 
of  Rome.  He  enters  into  deep  and  subtle  distinctions^  and  calls  in 
the  Aristotelian  philosophy  to  help  him  in  his  theological  distinctions 
and  difficulties. 

'  On  the  Trinity, — addressed  to  Symmachus  the  ConsuL  A  sub- 
ject too  high  for  human  comprehension  is  here  treated  in  such  a  way 
as  to  render  it  even  more  obscure :  metaphysical  subtleties  and  nice 
distinctions  perplex  a  point  which  ultimately  we  must  credit,  not  be- 
cause we  can  prove  it  by  reasoning,  but  because  it  is  clearly  revealed 
in  the  word  of  Him  who  cannot  lie. 

'  On  the  Trinity, — addressed  to  John  the  Deacon  of  Rome,  upon 
this  Question,  '^  Whether  each  Person  of  the  Trinity  may  be  affirmed 
to  be  substantially  the  Divinity." 

*  The  Consolation  of  Philosophy, — A  Treatise  written  while  Boetius 
was  in  prison,  to  console  himself  under  his  reverse  of  fortune :  it  is 
^vritten  in  the  form  of  a  Dialogue  between  him  and  Philosophy,  con- 
sisting of  prose  and  different  kinds  of  verse  intermingled ;  there  are 
Jive  books.     The  first  book  contains  the  complaint  and  lamentation  of 
Boetius,  comparing  his  former  with  his  present  state :  — the  second  re« 
presents  the  assuasions  Philosophy  affords  to  a  dejected  mind,  and  how 
wrong  it  is  to  blame  fortune  for  the  events  of  life : — ^the  third  enters 
deeper  into  the  cure  of  a  wounded  spirit,  and,  to  the  overthrow  of  false 
happiness,  shews  that  which   is  true: — X\ie  fourth  proves  that  the 
wicked  are  always  wretched,  and  the  good  happy ;  speaks  of  Fate  and 
the  superintendence  of  Divine  Providence,  arguing  that  nothing  hap- 
pens casually,  and  that  the  pains  of  the  righteous  and  the  joys  of  the 
unholy  are  not  really  such  to  either: — ^e  fifth  speaks  of  Chance, 
Free-will,  and  the  agreement  of  God's  Omniscience  with  the  Free- 
a^ncy  of  man. — It  is  upon  this  treatise  that  Boetius's  fame  most  croe- 
cially  rests :  here  are  none  of  those  perplexing  distinctions  and  scho- 
lastic niceties  which  bewilder  the  reader  by  argument,  and  make  him 
blind  with  excess  of  light.     Boetius  led  the  way  to  the  introduction  of 
the  Aristotelian  method  of  reasoning  in  controversial  Divinity,  and 
few  even  of  his  own  scholars,  the  schoolmen,  have  exceeded  or  excelled 
him  in  the  use  of  it :  but  in  this  work  there  is  nothing  of  the  sort ;  the 
style  of  the  prose  is  perspicuous  and  good,  and  that  of  the  poetry  is 
abundant  in  beauty :  it  is  a  work  which  has  stood  firmly  balanced  upon 
its  own  excellence  till  the  present  time,  and  will  sink  in  estimation 
only  when  taste  is  extinct,  and  the  perception  of  philosophic  beauty  is 
destroyed. 

'  BoBTUii  Opera,  Venet,  1491. 

Basil,  1546. 

Cum  Com.  Var.,  Basil,  1570. 


Clarke's  View  of  Sacred  Literature.  887 

*  BoKCius,  ConsoL  of  Philosoph.,  translated  by  Geoff.  Chaucer,  and 
printed  by  Caxton. 

'  The  boke  of  Com/br/>— called  in  Laten^  Boeliue  de  Consol.  Phi' 
iowph* ;  translated  into  Englesse  Tonge :  in  Verse  by  John  Walt- 
wnem :  Enprented  in  the  exempt  Monastery  of  Tavestockj  in  Den- 
shyre ;  by  me,  "Dan  Thomas  Rychard,  Monke  of  the  said  Monastery, 
4to.  152^.     ''  Perhaps  the  scarcest  work  in  the  English  language." 

by  Richard,  Lord  Viscount  Preston,  8vo. 

Lond.  1G95,  Sec.  Edit.  8vo.  Lond.  1712. 

by  the  Rev.  Pful  Ridpath,  with  Notes  and 

Illostr.  Syo.  Lond.  1785.' 

The  Consolation  of  Philosophy  is  an  Eclectic  Treatise,  in 
which  the  doctrines  of  the  Academics  and  the  Stoics  are  incorpo- 
rated ;  and,  in  strict  accordance  with  its  title,  the  topics  are  with- 
out reference  to  the  truths  of  Christianity.  Boetius  is  the  last  of 
the  writers  to  whom  the  appellation  of  ancient  is  given.  The 
following  article  should  have  had  a  place  in  the  enumeration  of 
editions.  Boethii  Consolationis  Philosophise  Lib.  V.  Anglo- 
Saxonice  redditi  ab  Alfredo  Anglo-Saxonum  Rege,  edidit  Raw- 
linson,  Bvo.  Oxon.  1698. 

'ALDHELMUS,  a.d.  680. 

'  After  visiting  Italy,  where  he  cultivated  his  taste  for  literature, 
Aldhelmus  returned  to  England,  and  was  made  Abbot  of  Malmsbury, 
and  afterwards  Bishop  of  Salisbury :  he  died  a.d.  702,  with  a  high 
character  among  his  contemporaries  for  theological  and  human  learn- 
ing.    Of  his  writings  there  are  extant,  a  book — 

'  In  Praise  of  Virginity, — ^in  prose,  consisting  of  thirty  chapters : 
the  state  of  Virginity  is  praised  in  general,  and  very  many  examples 
given  of  celebrated  men  and  women  who  lived  in  a  state  of  celibacy ; 
their  praises  are  recorded,  and  some  particulars  of  their  lives  men- 
tioned.— The  style  of  this  work  is  afiectedly  ornamented,  and,  from 
the  use  of  barbarous  terms  and  words  in  forced  meanings,  it  is  at  once 
known  as  the  production  of  an  age  when  the  old  models  were  indeed 
known,  but  the  taste  was  so  vitiated  as  either  to  neglect  or  to  strive  to 
excel  them !  From  the  29th  chapter  we  find  that  this  prose  work 
preceded  the  following  one  in  verse,  for  he  there  says,  that  he  shall,  if 
life  be  spared,  treat  upon  the  same  subject  in  poetry  ;  which  intenticm 
afterwards  produced  toe  following. — Jaibtioth.  Patr.  vol.  iii.  p.  275. 

'  The  Praise  of  Virgins. — There  is  a  singular  poetical  Preface,  ad- 
dressed to  the  Abbess  Maxima,  in  hexameter  verse ;  the  initial  and 
terminal  letters  of  the  lines  of  the  Preface  are  each  an  acrostic  of  the 
first  line,  and  the  last  line  is  the  first  repeated  backward,  so  that  the 
four  sides  of  the  Poem,  as  they  are  read  backward  or  forward,  or  up  or 
down,  still  present  the  commencing  line  of  the  Preface,  which  is, 

'  Metrica  tirones  nunc  promant  carmina  castos. 

*  The  two  following  lines  are  instances  of  the  same  words  being  pre- 
sented, whether  read  forward  or  backward, 

VOL.  IX. —  N,S.  T  T 


33&  Th§  Canadas. 

Roma  tibi  tubito  motibut  ibii  amor.    . 
Sok  medere  pede,  ede,  perede  meios. 

And  the  following  three-fold  Acrostic  en  the  word  Jesiu  is  sn  inalance 
of  a  similar  &cility  of  conceit, 

I-nter  cuncta  micans  I-gniti  sidera  coel-I, 
E-xpclUt  tenebras  £-toto  Phoebus  ut  orb~£ : 
S-ic  cscas  removit  le-S  -us  caliginis  umbra— S, 
V-ivicansque  simul  V~ero  prieccHrdia  mot-U 
S-olem  justitiflB  se-S-e  prooat  esse  beati-49. 

J-oj  beaming  Phoebus,  mid  the  orbs  on  high, 
E-xpels  the  shades  of  night,  aiid  gilds  the  sky  ; 
S-o  Jesus  bids  our  mental  gloum  retire, 
U-nites  and  clothes  us  with  his  heavenly  fire, 
S-hining  the  Sun  of  Truth  to  all  the  blessed  chmr. 

H.  8.  BOYD. 

'  The  Poem  in  praise  of  Virgins  is  the  same  as  the  prose  work ;  it 
partakes  of  the  same  defects,  with  the  addition  of  metrical  errors : 

'  Oh  ike  Eight  principal  Vices. — Of  the  evils  that  they  are  authors  of, 
he  gives  instances,  and  in  four  hexameters  represents  the  calamities 
they  produce. — These  two  works  are  given  by  Canisius,  LecC;  Antiq. 
vol.  i.  p.  713. 

'  Problems, — in  verse,  amounting  to  about  1000  lines.' 

Aldhelmus  was  bishop  of  Sherborne,  in  Dorsetshire,  not 
of  Salisbury,  which  was  not  erected  into  a  see  till  many  ages 
afk;er  his  death. 


Art.  VII. — 1.  The  Canadas  as  they  now  art.  Comprehending  a 
View  of  their  Climate,  Rivers,  Lakes,  Canals,  Gkyvemment,  Laws, 
Taxes,  Towns,  Trade,  &c. ;  with  a  Description  of  the  Soil  and 
Advantages  or  Disadvantages  of  every  Township  in  each  Pro- 
vince :  derived  from  the  Reports  of  the  Inspectors  made  to  the 
Justices  at  Quarter  Sessions,  and  from  other  authentic  Sources, 
assisted  by  local  knowledge.  With  a  Map,  shewing  the  Posi- 
tion of  each  Township.  By  a  late  Resident.  12mo.  pp.  zr.  116. 
Price  4*.  6</.     London,  183*3. 


2.  Statistical  Sketches  of  Upner  Canada,  for  the  Use  of 
By  a  Backwoodsman.     12mo.  pp.   120.    Price  Is.  6d.     I^uidon, 
1832. 

3.  Practical  Notes  made  durtner  a  Tour  in  Canada,  and  a  Partum  of 
the  United  States,  in  MDCCCXXXL  By  Adam  Fergusson,  of 
Woodhill,  Advocate.  Dedicated,  by  Permission,  to  the  Hiriiland 
Society  of  Scotland.     12mo.  pp.  xvi.  380.     Edinburgh,  IB&. 

4.  Manual  for  Emigrants.      By  Calvin  Col  ton,  A.M.,   of   America. 

18mo.  pp.  203.     Price  2*.  6^/.     I^ndon,  18:i2. 

\^  NEW  Scotland  is  fast  growing  up  at  the  back  of  New  Eng- 
land and  New  York.     The  gulf-Ktream  of  emigration,  run- 


The  Canadas,  3d§ 

ning  strong  from  the  Frith  of  Clyde  towards  the  shores  of  Lake 
Huron  and  Lake  Erie,  is  bearing  on  its  current  the  ^  failing  far- 
mers and  webless  weavers  ^  of  the  old  country,  to  turn  forests  into 
corn-fields,  and  plant  towns  in  the  wilderness,  and  spread  the 
English  language  and  the  British  race,  in  the  heart  oi  the  Red 
man'^s  country,  far,  far  away.  And  yet,  thanks  to  that  wonderful 
and  wonder-working  thing  which  our  grand&thers  and  grand- 
mothers, like  their  ancestors^  were  in  the  habit  of  seeing  escape 
from  their  tea-kettles  without  dreaming  that  it  could  be  of  any 
earthly  use, — thanks  to  the  triumphs  of  steam,  the  great  ma-^ 
^cian,  of  whom,  when  we  were  young,  we  read  in  the  Arabian 
Nights,  how  he  was  shut  up  in  a  little  casket,  from  which  when 
he  escaped,  he  towered  up  to  the  heavens,  little  imagining  that 
the  legend  prefigured  or  predicted  a  discovery  which  converts  it 
into  fact, — thanks  to  steam,  Canada  is  not  so  very  far  off  and  out 
of  the  world  as  we  have  been  accustomed  to  consider  it  Half  the 
distance  between  the  two  continents  has  been  annihilated.  For  so 
admirably  provided  by  nature  is  North  America  with  the  means 
of  internal  navigation,  so  marvellously  intersected  with  water-ways 
which  seem  made  on  purpose  for  steamers,  that  a  backwoodsman 
may  step  on  board  off  his  own  estate  at  Goderich  on  the  banks  of 
Lake  Huron,  1500  miles  from  the  ocean,  and,  without  setting  his 
foot  on  land,  run  across  the  great  water  to  take  a  peep  at  old 
friends  at  Greenock.  And  the  very  idea  that  he  can  accomplish 
this,  tends  to  reconcile  him  to  the  distant  separation. 

'  If  any  man  %  says  the  lively  Writer  of  the  Statistical  Sketches^ 
*  will  only  take  the  trouble  to  cast  his  eye  over  a  map  of  the  province, 
he  will  perceive  that  no  country  under  heaven  was  ever  so  completely 
adapted  for  internal  navigation.  He  will  then  see  the  line  of  the  St. 
liawrence  and  the  lakes ;  the  line  from  the  bay  of  Quinte  to  Lake 
Simcoe^  and  that  from  the  foot  of  Lake  Ontario  to  the  Ottawa,  by  the 
Cataraqui  and  Rideau  Canal ;  from  the  Lake  of  the  Thousand  Islands 
to  the  Ottawa  by  the  Petite  Nation ;  from  Lake  Huron  to  the  Ottawa 
by  the  double  line  of  Lake  Simcoe  and  Lake  Nippissing ;  and  the  nu* 
merous  tributaries  of  aU  these,  which  very  little  expense  would  render 
navigable ; — so  that  were  Mr.  Brindley  to  rise  from  the  dead,  he  would 
Imidly  pronounce  that  Nature  intended  all  these  as  feeders  to  canals, 
to  intersect  the  country  in  every  possible  direction.' 

Slat,  Sketches,  p.  58. 

Speaking  of  the  Canada  Company ""s  Huron  tract,  which  appears 
Co  be  at  presen  tthe  favourite  part  of  the  province,  and  is  even 
aittracting  some  of  the  steady  Dutch  settlers  from  their  old  farms 
in  other  quarters, —  Mr.  Dunlop  says : 

'  It  has  been  objected  by  some,  that  this  tract  of  country  is  oui  of  the 
fvorld*  But  no  .place  can  be  considered  in  this  light,  to  wnich  a  steam- 
boat can  come ;  and  on  this  continent,  if  you  tind  a  tract  of  good  land^ 
and  open  it  for  sale^  the  world  will  very  soon  come  to  you.     Sixteen 

T  T  2 


340  Tk€  Canadat. 

years  ago,  the  town  of  Rochester  consisted  of  a  taTem  and  a  Uadt* 
smith's  shop :  it  is  now  a  town  containing  upwards  of  16,000  inhab- 
itants. The  first  time  the  Huron  tract  was  ever  trod  by  the  foot  of  a 
white  man,  was  in  the  summer  of  1827 ;  next  summer  a  road  was  oom- 
menced ;  and  that  winter  and  in  the  ensuing  spring  of  1829,  a  few  indi- 
viduals made  a  lodgement.  Now  it  contains  upwards  of  000  inhabi- 
tants, with  taverns,  shops,  stores,  grist  and  saw-mills,  and  every  kind 
of  convenience  that  a  new  settler  can  require.  And  if  the  tide  of  emi- 
gration continues  to  set  in  as  strongly  as  it  has  done,  in  ten  years  from 
this  date,  it  may  be  as  thickly  settled  as  any  part  of  America ;  for 
Goderich  has  water-powers  quite  equal  to  Rochester;  and  the  aurroond- 
ing  country  possesses  much  superiw  sdl.'     Stat.  Sketches,  pp^  25,  26^ 

Who  should  go  to  Canada  ?— -Not  the  man  who  can  aSbrd  to 
live  in  Great  Britain,  however  he  may  fret  against  taxes  and 
poor^s  rates,  and  quarrel  with  a  Whig  government*  A  man  some^ 
times  quarrels  with  those  he  loves,  and  when  they  are  away,  is 
miserable  at  having  only  himself  to  quarrel  with.  No  man  of 
fortune,  our  Backwoodsman  honestly  says,  ought  to  go  to  Canada. 

*  It  is  emphatically  the  poor  man's  country^  but  it  would  be  dif- 

*  ficult  to  make  it  the  country  of  the  rich.'' 

'  It  is  a  good  country  for  a  poor  man  to  acquire  a  living  in,  or  for  a 
man  of  small  fortune  to  economise  and  provide  for  his  family ;  but  I 
can  conceive  no  possibillity  of  its  becoming  for  centuries  to  eome  a  fit- 
tine  stage  for  the  heroes  or  heroines  of  the  fiuhionable  novels  of  Mr. 
BuTwer  or  young  D'Israeli.'     lb,  p.  10. 

Not  persons  addicted  to  the  romantic  The  most  romantic 
thing  in  the  ncw^leared  wilderness  is  the  fire-fly ;  but  who,  ex- 
cept a  fire-fly,  can  feel  romantic  in  the  midst  of  rooskitoes  ?  To 
a  person  leaviAg  the  old  country,  it  might  be  tendered  as  a  whole- 
some piece  of  advice,  to  be  sure  to  leave  one  thing  behind  him, — 
imi^nation.  To  all  emigrants  tinctured  with  romance,  Mr.  Col- 
ton  addresses  the  following  wholesome  admonition,  intended  pri- 
marily for  those  who  contemplate  settling  in  the  United  States, 
but  applicable  as  well  to  those  who  wish  to  prosper  any  where. 

'  And,  first,  he  would  earnestly  advise  all  person^,  who  think  of  eoing 
to  America,  to  eject  thoroughly  frbm  their  minds  and  hearts  afi  ro^ 
mantic  expectations.  The  motives  which  induce  emigration  to 
America,  are  various  with  different  individuals ;  but  in  all,  there  are 
strong  tendencies  to  the  indulgence  of  extravagant  hopes.  Some,  who 
have  felt  oppressed  with  the  unequal  conditions  of  European  80Giety> 
and  who,  perhaps,  have  been  dissatisfied  with  the  Groveninient  of  their 
native  country,  go  to  the  United  States,  under  the  impression,  that 
what  is  called  Kepublican  liberty  and  equality  will  elevate  them  at 
once  to  rank  and  maportance—  or  to  a  common  level  and  fellowship 
with  the  best  men  in  the  community.  And  some,  perhaps,  imagine, 
that  Republican  liberty  is — that  every  man  may  do  as  he  pleaaea ;  in 


The  Canadas.  841 

otiier  words,  that  it  is  licentiousness.  It  is  due  to  all  such  persons, 
and  to  American  society,  that  thejr  should  be  informed— that  law  is  as 
necessary  in  the  United  States,  as  in  any  other  country^  and  that  it  is 
emphatically  the  guardian  of  right ; — and  that  every  citizen  must  be 
contented  with  that  place  in  society,  which  his  personal  merits  and 
qualifications  naturally  award  to  him.  I F  a  man  is  not  willing  to  be  an 
nonest  and  sober  member  of  community  on  these  terms,  and  if  he  is 
not  resolved  to  consecrate  his  energies  to  some  useful  and  honourable 

Sarauit,  such  as  he  is  fit  for,  he  can  neither  be  welcomed  in  the  United 
tates,  nor  can  he  have  any  warrant,  that  his  condition  there  will  be 
comfortable  to  himself.  All  such  characters  may  better  conceal  them- 
selves in  the  dark  retreats  of  a  dense  and  crowded  population  of  an 
European  city.  Let  them  by  all  means  stay  where  their  unlawful  de- 
sires have  been  b^otten.  They  will  only  throw  themselves  into  the 
light  of  day,  and  the  sooner  meet  with  their  deserved  doom,  by  going 
to  America. 

'  Some  expect^  by  going  to  America,  to  live  without  care  and  without 
laboar, — that  riches  will  come  pouring  into  their  lap  and  be  forced  upon 
them>  without  any  pains  of  their  own.  But  the  primitive  infliction 
for  human  apostacy : — ''  In  the  sweat  of  thy  brow  shalt  thou  eat  thy 
bread  " — is  not  so  easily  avoided.  Until  the  garden  of  Eden,  with  all 
its  innocence  and  virtue,  can  be  recovered,  exemption  from  this  curse 
must  not  be  expected.  America  is  a  good  country — good  enough  to 
satisfy  any  reasonable  expectations — but  it  is  not  a  Paradise.  American 
society  has  a  good  d^ree  of  simplicity  and  purity.  But  it  wants  no 
importation  of  worse  materials.  Patient  industry  is  the  source  of  all  its 
prosperity^  and  virtue  the  crowning  glory  of  the  community.  And  he 
who  is  not  willing  to  be  sober  and  industrious,  must  not  expect  to  rise, 
— he  is  doomed  to  sink  in  the  United  States. 

^  Many  arc  the  worthy  and  respectable  men\  says  Mr.  Fergus- 
son,  *  who  may  certainly  better  their  condition  by  a  removal  to 
<  Canada.^ 

'  At  the  same  time,  it  is  a  serious  step,  not  to  be  lightly  adopted' 
and  whichy  above  all,  they  should  remember,  cannot,  with  safety,  con- 
sistency, or  credit,  be  retraced.  In  Canada,  the  settler  will  become 
{>roprietor  in^e  simple  of  lands,  at  a  rate  per  acre  which  would  scarce- 
y  pay  half  of  his  yearly  rent  at  home  ;  but  this  is  only  to  be  effected 
at  a  sacrifice  of  early  ties  and  connexions,  and  by  a  dieerfiil  submis8|sii 
to  many  privations  and  botherations,  which  will  require  a  steady  and 
cheerfol  temper  to  surmount.'     Fergusson,  p.  1^. 

Who  then  are  to  go  to  Canada  ?  *  In  the  first  place  \  says 
Mr.  Dunlop,  *  all  who  cannot  comfortably  support  themselves  by 
^  their  labour  at  home. 

'  Because,  let  a  man  be  ever  so  poor  in  this  country,  his  wages  as  a 
labourer  will  more  than  support  his  family ; — and  if  he  be  prudent  and 
sober,  he  may  in  a  short  time  save  money  enough  to  purchase  for  him- 
self a  fiurm ;— and  if  he  has  a  family,  so  much  the  better,  as  children 
are  the  best  stock  a  farmer  can  possess,  the  labour  of  a  child  seven  years' 


342  The  Canadnn, 

old  being  considered  worth  his  maintenance  and  education^  and  the 
^vages  of  a  boy  of  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of  age  being  higher  than 
those  of  a  stout  and  skilful  ploughmnn  in  most  parts  of  Great  Britain, 
generally  from  three  to  four  dollars  a  months  with  bed,  board,  and 
washini/  besides.  At  home  they  talk  of  <'  a  poor  man  with  a  large  fa- 
mily ;  "  but  such  a  phrase  in  Canada  would  be  a  contradiction  of  terms; 
for  a  man  here  who  has  a  large  family  must^  under  ordna'j  circum- 
stances, soon  cease  to  be  a  poor  man. 

'  ]\lechanics  and  artizans  of  almost  all  descriptions, — millwrights, 
blacksmiths,  cnq)cnters,  masons,  bricklayers,  tailors,  shoemakers,  tan- 
ners, millers,  and  all  the  ordinary  trades  that  are  required  in  an  agri- 
cultural and  partially  ship  owning  and  commercial  country,  yxiW  do  u*ell 
to  come  to  Canada.  \\  c\*v(*rs  have  but  little  to  expect  in  the  way  of 
their  trade,  though  such  of  them  as  are  employed  in  customer-work 
can  make  from  ten  to  twelve  shillings  a  day  ;  but  they  soon  make  good 
farmers.  A  friend  of  mine  asserts,  that  they  make  oeiler  fanners  for 
this  country  than  ai'^riculcund  laliourers ;  alleging  as  a  cause,  that  ai 
they  have  no  prejudices  to  overcome,  they  get  at  once  into  the  customs 
of  the  country  as  copied  from  their  neighbours,  and  being  in  the  habit 
of  thinking,  improve  on  them.  But  my  friend  is  from  P&idej,  and, 
consequently,  prejudiced  in  favour  of  weavers.  However,  there  is  no 
denying  that  the  weavers  from  Renfrew  and  Lanark  shires  in  the 
Bathurst  district,  are  very  good  and  very  prosperous  settlers,  and  tlut 
the  linen  weavers  from  the  north  of  Ireland  make  the  best  choppers, 
native  or  imported,  in  the  pronnce,  as  they,  to  a  man,  can  chop  with 
either  hand  forward,  and  by  changing  their  hand  they  relieve  them- 
selves and  obtain  a  rest.  This  ambi-dexterousness  is  ascribed  by  their 
countrymen,  how  justly  I  know  not,  to  their  habit  of  using  both  hands 
equally  in  throwing  the  shuttle. 

'  Of  these  trades,  the  blacksmith,  tailor,  shoemaker,  and  tanner,  are 
the  best.  If  there  were  in  nature  (which  is  doubtful)  such  a  being  as 
a  sober  blacksmith,  he  might  make  a  fortune. 

'  One  exception  there  is,  however,  in  the  case  of  mechanics.  Firtt- 
rate  London  workmen  will  not  receive  such  high  wages,  either  posi- 
tively or  relatively,  as  they  would  at  home, — for  this  reason,  that  Uiere 
are  few  on  this  continent  who  either  require  or  can  afford  work  of  the 
very  first  order,  and  those  that  do,  send  to  London  for  it. 

'  Farmers  and  tradesmen  of  small  capital  will  find  in  Canada  a  good 
investment.  A  farmer  who  commences  with  some  money,  say  WOL, 
ought,  in  the  course  of  five  or  six  years,  to  have  all  his  capiud  in  money, 
and  a  good  well-cleared  and  well-stocked  farm  into  the  bargain,  with 
the  requisite  dwelling-house  and  out-buildings  on  it,  besides  having 
supported  his  family  in  the  meantime. 

'  Unless  a  man  of  large  capital,  by  which  term  in  this  conntiy  I 
mean  about  5000/.,  has  a  large  family,  he  had  better  lend  the  sarplai 
on  mortgage  at  six  per  cent.,  than  invest  it  in  business,  except  he 
means  to  become  a  wholesale  storekeeper  in  one  of  the  towns.  If  ht 
attempts  to  set  up  a  mill,  a  distillery,  a  tannery,  a  fulling  and  saw  miU, 
and  a  store,  as  is  often  found  to  be  profitable  from  the  one  trade  play- 
ing into  the  hands  of  the  other,  ana  if  he  has  not  sons  capable  of  iook* 
ing  after  the  different  branches,  he  must  entrust  the  care  of  them  to 


The  Canadas.  34? 

clerks  and  semmts.  But  these  are  not  to  be  had  ready-made : — ^he 
most,  therefore,  take  a  set*of  unlicked  cubs,  and  teach  them  their  busi- 
xiess ;  and  when  that  is  fairly  done,  it  is  ten  to  one  but,  having  become 
acquainted  with  his  business  and  his  customers,  they  find  means  to  set 
up  an  opposition,  and  take  effectually  the  wind  out  of  their  former  pa- 
tron's sails.  Where,  however,  a  man  has  a  large  family  of  sons,  he  can 
wield  a  large  capital  in  business,  and  to  very  good  purpose  too.'  pp.  6-9. 

Supposing  a  man  to  have  made  up  his  mind  to  emigrate  to 
America,  tne  question  will  arise,  whether  to  go  to  Canada  or  the 
United  States.  Mr.  Dunlop  thinks  Canada  preferable,  for  the 
following  reasons. 

'  It  is  to  many  who  happen  to  have  consciences,  no  light  matter,  to 
.  forswear  their  aUegiance  to  their  king,  and  declare  that  they  are  wil- 
ling to  take  up  arms  against  their  native  country  at  the  call  of  the 
country  of  their  adoption ;  and  unless  they  do  so,  they  must  remain 
aliens  for  ever ;  nay,  even  if  they  do  manage  to  swallow  such  an  oath, 
it  is  seven  years  before  their  apostacy  is  rewarded  by  the  right  of  citi- 
zenship. In  landing  in  his  Majesty  s  dominions,  they  carry  with  them 
their  rights  of  subjects,  and  immediately  on  becoming  40^.  freeholders, 
have  the  right  of  voting  for  a  representative. 

'  The  markets  of  Canada  for  iiirm  produce  are  and  must  be  better 
than  those  of  the  United  States  ;  for  Canadian  corn  is  admitted  into 
both  British  and  West  Indian  ports  on  much  more  advantageous  terms 
than  foreign  grain,  and  the  taxes  on  articles  required  for  the  consumpt 
of  the  inhabitants  are  not  one-twelfth  so  great  in  Canada  as  in  tne 
United  States.  Thus,  all  British  goods  pay  at  Quebec  only  2J  per 
cent,  ad  valorem,  whilst  at  any  American  port  they  pay  from  33^  to 
60  per  cent. 

'  V  ery  erroneous  notions  are  current  in  England,  with  regard  to  the 
taxation  of  the  United  States.  The  truth  is,  that  though  America  is 
lightly  taxed  in  comparison  with  England,  it  is  by  no  means  to  be 
oonsioered  so  when  compared  to  most  of  the  continental  nations.  The 
account  usually  rendered  of  American  taxation  is  fallacious.  It  is 
stated,  that  something  under  six  millions  sterling,  or  about  lOs.  per 
head  on  an  average,  pays  the  whole  army,  navy,  civil  list,  and  interest 
of  debt  of  the  United  States,  while  we  require  fifty  millions,  or  nearly 
21.  lOi.  each,  for  the  same  purpose.  But  the  fact  is,  that  that  sum  is 
only  about  half  what  the  Americans  pay  in  reality ;  for  each  indi- 
vidual state  has  its  own  civil  list,  'and  all  the  machinery  of  a  govern- 
ment to  support ;  and  insignificant  as  the  expenses  of  that  government 
appear  in  aetail,  yet  the  aggregate  is  of  very  serious  importance.  For 
instance,  there  are  five  times  as  many  judges  in  the  state  of  New  York 
alone  as  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland ;  and  though  each  individual  of 
these  were  to  receive  no  more  than  we  would  pay  a  macer  of  the  court, 
yet  when  there  comes  to  be  two  or  three  hundred  of  them,  it  becomes 
a  serious  matter ;  nor  does  it  make  any  difference,  in  fact,  whether 
they  are  paid  out  of  the  exchequer  of  the  state,  or  by  the  fees  of  the 
suitors  in  their  courts  ;  they  are  equally  paid  by  a  tax  on  the  people 
in  either  case. 


344  The  Canadas. 

'  Although  the  necessaries  of  life  are  cheap  in  AmetioL,  and  eqnalTj 
cheap  in  Canada,  the  luxuries  of  life  are  "jj^^  by  aerera]  hundred 
per  cent,  in  the  one  country  than  the  other.  'DiaB^  wine  in  the  United 
States  is  so  highly  taxed,  that  in  a  tavern  at  New  York  yoa  pay  nuyre 
for  a  bottle  of  Madeira  than  in  one  at  London,  vis.  five  doUan, — and 
fifteen  shillings  for  port. 

'  In  Canada,  we  nave  stumbled  by  accident,  or  had  thmst  upon  as 
by  some  means  or  other,  what  may  be  considered  the  great  desideratum 
in  financial  science,  viz.  the  means  of  creating  a  large  revenue  with  a 
light  taxation.  This  arises  from  three  causes :  first,  that  we  derive 
a  very  large  sum  annually  from  lands  the  property  of  the  crown,  which 
are  sold  to  the  Canada  company,  and  from  timber  cut  on  crown  lands, 
&c. ;  second,  that  we  derive  a  revenue  from  public  works,  which  have 
been  constructed  at  the  expense  of  the  province,  and  which  are  in  s 
fair  way  of  yielding  a  much  greater  return  than  the  interest  of  the 
money  expended  on  them,  and  from  shares  in  the  bank  of  Upper  Ca- 
nada, of  which  the  government  took  a  fourth  of  the  stock ;  and, 
thirdly,  because  we  make  our  neighbours,  the  good  people  of  the 
United  States,  pay  a  little  of  our  taxes,  and  shi£,  with  the  blessing 
of  God,  if  they  Keep  on  their  tariff,  make  them  pay  a  pretty  penny 
more.*   pp.  113 — 115. 

Mr.  Dunlop'^s  little  Tract  will  be  found  highly  amusioff  aa  well 
as  full  of  information.  His  remarks  upon  the  Lumber  Tndei  (a 
subject  which  we  cannot  here  enter  upon,)  will,  we  hope,  obtain 
due  attention  in  influential  quarters.  We  have  been  so  much 
delighted  with  his  strong  sense  and  banhommie^  that  we  regret  to 
be  obliged  to  reprobate  some  of  his  remarks  in  the  chapter  '  on 
religious  sects,'*  as  alike  injurious  and  uncalled  for.  Of  Mr.  Ryer- 
8on,  whom  he  has  dragged  before  the  British  public  as  a  preacher 
of  sedition,  a  hypocrite,  and  a  knave,  we  personally  know  nothing; 
but,  judging  from  the  uncandid  and  ungentlemanly  manner  m 
which  Peter  Jones  is  spoken  of,  we  should  not  be  led  to  attach 
much  credit  or  weight  to  the  representation  given  of  the  fiinner 
indi\idual;  and  the  spirit  of  the  whole  attack  upon  the  Methodists, 
savours  too  much  of  either  personal  resentment  or  party  hosdlity* 
The  fact  is,  we  believe,  that  Peter  Jones  came  to  tnis  country 
charged  with  some  political  mission  from  the  Indian  tribe  to 
which,  through  his  mother,  he  belongs ;  and  that  he  had  com- 
munication with  his  Majesty's  Government  in  this  capacity.  His 
personal  respectability  is,  therefore,  as  unquestionable  aa  his 
piety.  To  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  he  rendered 
important  service,  by  assisting  in  the  revision  of  a  version  of  part 
of  the  Scriptures  into  the  Algonquin  or  Chippewa  language. 
During  his  stay  in  this  country,  he  preached  repeatedly,  and 
attended  many  of  the  meetings  of  our  religious  societies, 
where,  possibly,  by  the  vulgar,  he  might  be  regarded  as  a  mere 
raree-shew,  like  the  Emperors,  or  Riho  Riho,  or  any  other  lion  of 
the  day.    But  this  was  not  the  light  in  which  he  would  be  le- 


The  Canadas.  345 

'garded  bv  any  intelligent  man  who  has  heard  him  speak  or  con- 
versed with  him.  No  man  could  be  more  free  from  pretence,  and 
&r  deception  there  was  no  room.  Mr.  Dunlop  has  been  imposed 
upon  by  misinformation  of,  we  suspect,  a  malignant  character. 

*  The  Canadas  as  they  are,^  is  a  less  amusing  or  readable  book, 
but  contains  a  very  careful  digest  of  that  minute  matter  of  fact 
information,  topographical  and  statistical,  of  which  an  emigrant 
stands  in  more  especial  need ;  distinctly  arranged,  and  apparently 
without  any  colouring.  We  transcribe  the  following  cautionary 
liint  from  the  Advertisement. 

'  Not  that  it  is  intended  to  deny  to  the  Canada  Land  Company  or 
their  servants  their  due  meed  of  praise ; — and  they  are  entitled  to  a 
considerable  share ; — but  if  a  personal  friend^  with  200/.  or  300/.  or 
more,  were  to  ask  the  Author^  if  he  would  advise  him  to  settle  at 
Gnelph  or  Goderich^  he  would  reply :  Certainly  not  at  the  latter,  nor  at 
the  former,  unless  you  are  too  indolent  to  look  for  a  more  eligible  spot, 
plenty  of  which  are  to  be  found  with  a  little  trouble  and  the  exercise 
cf  discrimination.' 

Mr.  Fergusson'^s  Practical  Notes  comprise  the  narrative  of  a 
Tour  through  part  of  the  State  of  New  York,  and  the  Canadas, 
together  with  a  Statistical  Report  addressed  to  the  Directors  of 
the  Highland  Society.  In  an  Appendix  is  given,  with  other 
miscellaneous  matter,  an  American  puffo{  the  Michigan  territory, 
which  is  at  present  ^  quite  the  rage  '*  among  the  land  speculators 
of  Yankee-land,  having,  in  a  great  degree,  supplanted  Ohio, 
Illinois,  and  Indiana.  Michigan,  which  is  better  watered  than 
any  other  part  of  the  United  States,  resembles  in  its  general  cha- 
racter the  peninsular  portion  of  Upper  Canada,  upon  which  it 
borders.  The  influx  of  emigrants  to  this  territory  from  the 
western  part  of  New  York,  New  England,  and  even  Ohio,  is  said 
to  be  remarkable.  Seven  steam-vessels  ply  from  Buffalo  to  Detroit, 
the  decks  of  which  swarm  every  day  with  volunteer  settlers  and 
speculators.  *  With  all  their  love  of  country,'  Mr.  Fergusson  re- 
marks, *it  appears  somewhat  anomalous,  that  wheresoever  the 
*  bump  of  adhesiveness  may  be  found,  in  vain  will  the  disciples 
^  of  Spurzheim  search  for  it  upon  the  cranium  of  an  American.' 

'  However  valuable,  however  beautiful  may  be  his  estate,  however 
endeared  as  the  scene  of  youthful  enjoyment,  or  of  the  more  sober  avo- 
cations of  maturer  years,  let  but  a  tempting  offer  present  itself,  and  he 
yields  it  without  a  sigh/    p.  225. 

Mr.  Fergusson  finds  it  difficult  to  analyze  this  peculiarity,  and 
is  disposed  to  think  it  may  in  some  measure  be  ascribed  to  the 
absence  of  the  rights  of  primogeniture,  which  bind  us  to  our  pa- 
ternal acres  !  What  is  it  that  binds  the  hardy  mountaineer  to 
his  bleak  homestead,  who  knows  nothing  of  any  such  rights  ?     It 

VOL.  IX, — N.s.  u  u 


346  Colonial  Slavery, 

would  be  more  reasonable  to  look  for  its  source  in  the  spirit  of 
commercial  enterprise,  the  wide  range  of  mercantile  adventure, 
the  constant  familiarity  with  the  map,  the  national  passion  for 
geographical  extension,  and,  perhaps,  a  dash  of  the  Indian  blood, 
or  an  Indian  spirit  caught  from  the  natural  features  of  the  country. 
The  American  delights  in  locomotion,  and  the  steam-boat  is 
adapted  to  gratify  this  propensity  to  the  utmost  perfection.  But 
where  every  thing  is  in  motion  and  in  transition,  the  home-feeling 
cannot  take  root.     All  is  diffusion,  and  nothing  is  concentrated. 

Mr.  Colton's  Manual  may  be  recommended  as  containing  much 
sound  advice  to  those  for  whom  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi  has 
sufficiently  strong  attractions  to  induce  them  to  plunge  so  far  into 
the  site  of  the  future. 


Art.  VIII.  The  Sinfulness  of  Colonial  Slavery,  A  Lecture  delivered 
at  the  Monthlv  Meeting  of  Congregational  Ministers  and  Churches, 
Feb.  7,  1833.  By  Robert  Ilalley.  8vo.  pp.  28.  London, 
1033. 

"VVTE  rejoice  to  believe  that  the  time  is  very  near  at  hand,  when 
England,  in  purifying  herself  from  the  national  crime,  shall 
deliver  her  colonies  from  the  political  evil, — the  cost,  and  burden, 
and  moral  blight,  and  judicial  curse  of  slavery.  The  impolicy  of 
the  present  system  may  be  proved,  and  has  been  proved  again  and 
again,  by  facts  and  figures,  by  calculations  of  profit  and  loss,  by 
the  past  and  present  state  of  the  colonies,  and  by  the  etemid 
complaints  of  the  ever-iryured  planters.  But  there  is  one  short 
way  of  proving  the  same  thing,  which,  if  not  the  most  convincing 
line  of  argument  to  merchants  and  politicians,  comes  most  di- 
rectly home  to  the  bosoms  of  all  who  acknowledge  the  paramount 
obligations  of  Christian  morality.  If  it  be  criminal,  it  must  be 
impolitic.  Under  the  moral  government  of  the  Righteous  Judge, 
it  cannot  be,  that  what  is  sinful  should  idtimately  be  advantageous 
or  even  profitable  to  communities.  The  laws  of  national  morality 
are  guarded  by  penal  sanctions  consisting  in  temporal  conse- 
quences. Nations  are  punished  as  nations  in  this  world,  for  to 
them  there  is  no  future  state.  The  recognition  of  this  mo- 
mentous practical  truth,  we  deem  not  less  important  than  the  ac- 
knowledgment that  slavery  in  a  national  crime.  We  are  anxious, 
not  merely  that  slavery  should  be  abolished,  through  the  slowly 
formed  conviction  that  it  is  frau^^ht  with  political  danger,  or  that 
it  has  ceased  to  be  profitable,  but  that  it  should  be  abolished  in 
the  character  of  a  crime  and  a  wrong.  We  could  almost  have 
wished  that  it  might  have  had  the  merit  of  a  national  sacrifice, 
instead  of  being  the  riddance  of  a  national  burden.     To  no  tax  or 


Colofiial  Slavery.  347 

ftssessmcnt  could  we  have  more  cheerfully  submitted,  than  to  one 
which  should  have  laid  upon  all  classes  of  the  nation,  an  equitable 
share  of  the  necessary  cost  of  so  glorious  an  act  of  faith.  The 
abolition  of  slavery  will  cost  this  country  nothing.  The  planter 
may  be  amply  compensated,  without  entailing  any  fiscal  burden 
upon  this  country ;  as  Mr.  Cropper  has  shewn,  most  satisfactorily, 
in  his  Review  of  the  Select  Committee''s  Report.     *  What  com- 

*  pensation  indeed  \  he  asks,  '  could  be  due,  where  there  is  con- 

*  fessedly  now  no  profit,  though  the  system  is  at  this  time  main- 
^  tained  at  an  unwarrantable  expense  to  the  country  ?  **  But  were 
it  otherwise,  we  trust  that  the  Christian  public  would  cheerfully 
submit  to  bear  their  part  in  whatever  loss  might  accrue  from  the 
sacrifice  of  blood-stained  profits.  Grant  slavery  to  be  a  crime, 
and  we  will  admit  that  it  does  not  belong  to  the  Government  or 
people  of  England  to  convert  its  abolition  into  a  punishment  of 
those  who  are  but  sharers  in  the  sin.  But  let  those  who  deny  it 
to  be  a  crime,  and  wrap  the  curse  only  the  closer  around  them, 
take  the  consequences. 

We  have  adverted  to  Mr.  Halley'^s  highly  impressive  sermon 
in  a  former  article  ;  but  we  cannot  deny  ourselves  the  pleasure  of 
bringing  it  more  distinctly  under  the  notice  of  our  readers.  '  If,' 
he  remarks,  *  as  we  are  told  by  those  more  immediately  interested, 

*  slavery  is  the  sin,  not  so  much  of  themselves,  as  of  the  whole 

*  nation,  then  a  louder  emphasis  is  given  to  every  word"*  of  the 
Divine  denunciations,  ^  as  addressed,  not  only  to  the  negligent, 

*  but  to  the  participants  of  crime:  "If  thou  forbear  to  deliver 

*  them  that  are  drawn  unto  death,  and  those  that  are  ready  to  be 

*  slain ;  if  thou  sayest.  Behold,  we  knew  it  not ;  doth  not  He  who 

*  pondereth  the  heart  consider  it  ?  and  he  that  keepeth  thy  soul, 

*  doth  not  he  know  it  ?  and  shall  not  he  render  to  every  man 

*  according  to  his  works  .^'' '  Such  is  the  striking  text  which  the 
Preacher  has  taken  as  his  motto.  In  proceeding  to  shew  the  sin- 
fiilness  of  Colonial  Slavery,  Mr-  Halley  first  examines  the  origin, 
principle,  and  nature  of  the  ancient  servitude ;  next  shews  the 
working  of  the  moral  law,  as  regards  that  slavery  which  it  tole- 
rated ;  and  then  carries  forward  his  appeal  to  the  letter  and  spirit 
of  the  Christian  religion.  Having  ttius  cleared  his  ground,  by 
shewing  that  slavery  is  incapable  of  vindication  on  the  ground 
of  Jewish  precedent  or  the  tacit  sanction  of  scripture,  he  proceeds 
to  depict  the  murderous  effects  and  *  exceeding  sinfulness '  of 
British  Colonial  Slavery.  He  then  launches  into  the  following 
animated  strain  of  indignant  eloquence. 

*  And  for  what  do  we  thus  sacrifice  the  lives  of  the  blacks  and  the 
morals  of  the  whites  }  Is  it  for  commercial  purposes  only  ?  Is  it  our 
costly  immolation  before  the  shrine  of  avarice  ?  Is  gain  our  godliness  ? 
There  seems  hardly  that  pitiful  pretext.  The  gains  of  slave-labour 
are  daily  diminishing.     **  \  our  gold  and  silver  is  cdnkcred,  and  i&e 

u  u  2 


318  Colonial  Slat>ery. 

rust  of  them  shall  be  a  witness  against  vou,  and  shall  eat  ycmr  flesh  ai 
it  were  fire.  Behold,  the  hire  of  your  labourers,  which  is  of  yoa  kept 
back  by  fraud,  crieth,  and  the  cries  of  them  which  hare  reapejl  are  oi* 
tered  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sabaoth." 

'  This  murderous  diminution  is,  I  readily  admit,  not  so  much  charge- 
able upon  individuals,  as  it  is  the  crime  of'^  us  all,  for  it  is  undoaot- 
edly  mdispensable  to  the  continuance  of  the  system.  Increaae  is  de- 
structive of  slavery.  Did  slaves  multiply  in  any  thing  like  the  natunl 
proportion  of  a  race  of  men  who,  without  any  prudence  or  fbretbought 
of  their  own,  receive  their  daily  food  in  exchange  for  their  daily  Umir, 
there  would  soon  be  an  excess  of  labourers  above  all  demand,  and  no 
price  beyond  his  ordinary  food  could  be  afforded  for  the  hire  of  a  aer* 
vant.  oy  this  easy  process,  I  apprehend,  villanage  was  terminated  in 
England,  and  most  of  Europe ;  and  we  have  with  us  the  testimony  of 
all  history,  ancient  and  modem,  when  we  assert  that,  wherever  alavery 
is  perpetuated,  this  great  and  benevolent  law  of  Providence  has  been, 
and  must  have  been,  though  always  with  harsh  measures  and  intense 
misery,  reversed  and  abrogated. 

*  Ine  multiplication  of  the  Israelites  in  Egypt  was  nothing  con- 
trary to  the  course  of  nature,  when  a  politic,  though  cruel  king,  saw 
the  necessity  of  checking  its  progress.  His  first  scheme  was  to  make 
their  lives  bitter  with  hard  bondage ;  but  bondage  must  be  hard,  and 
life  must  be  bitter  indeed,  to  secure  the  diminution  of  a  servile  race ; 
though,  demonstrably,  had  there  been  the  sugar- works  of  Jamaica  in- 
stead of  the  brick-making  of  Goshen,  this  project  of  severe  labour 
would  have  proved  successful.  The  tampering  with  the  midwivea  was 
not  more  cruel  than  are  the  secrets  of  slavery  in  every  age. 

'  Who  does  not  know,  that  slavery  was  perpetuated  throughout 
Greece  by  various  modes  of  destroying  the  servile  race  ?  Who  has 
not  heard  of  the  infamous  institute  of  the  Crypteia,  by  which  the 
youthful  Spartans  were  bound  at  certain  seasons  to  engage  for  the  as- 
sassination of  the  Helots,  as  their  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  patriotism  ? 
Who  is  at  any  loss  to  account  for  the  servile  wars  of  the  Romans  and 
other  western  nations  ?  Who  does  not  see  that  even  now,  in  North 
America,  through  the  facility  of  procuring  food  and  comparatively 
easier  toil  in  cultivating  cotton  and  tobacco,  the  increase  of  the  slaves 
is  so  augmenting  the  amount  of  labour  as  silently,  but  certainly,  to 
diminish  the  money  value  of  each :  and  though  the  timidity  or  avarice 
of  the  American  is  attempting  every  scheme  to  convert  humanity  into 
brutal  nature — though  he  holds  two  millions  of  human  beings,  among 
whom  marriage  is  unknown,  the  protection  of  law  denied,  schools  prohi- 
bitedj  and,  I  am  ashamed  to  add,  in  some  States,  by  recent  enactments 
unparelleled  in  Moscovy  or  Spain,  religious  instruction  forbidden  ;  jret 
the  fecundity  of  the  negro  is  working  out  the  emancipation  of  his  race ; 
every  child  from  its  birth  is  melting  some  link  in  the  monstrous  chain ; 
and  though  the  scheme  of  colonizing  Liberia,  by  abstracting  slave- 
labour  from  the  market,  may  faintly  oppose  this  formidable  influence, 
and  the  thousands  transported  yearly  to  die  in  the  cultivation  of  sugar 
amidst  the  swamps  of  Louisiana  may  defer  the  doom  of  this  hatdFiil 
system,  yet  even  now  the  mass  is  growing  too  heavy  for  its  foundation  ; 
and  those  dissonant  murmurings  of  bondage  in  the  temple  of  freedom. 


Colonial  Slavery.  349 

and  of  penal  laws  worthy  of  the  inquisition  in  the  land  of  religions 
liberty,  and  of  awful  impiety  in  the  country  of  revivals,  will  issue  in 
an  exploeion,  the  reverberation  of  which  over  the  Mexican  Oulph,  un« 
leas  anticipated  by  wise  and  Christian  legislation,  may  shake  society 
into  atoms  through  all  our  islands,  and  involve  in  the  ruins  of  slavery 
tbe  property  and  lives  of  the  whole  white  population.  America  to  be 
safe  must  be  virtuous  enough  to  emancipate  her  slaves,  or  wicked 
enough  to  introduce  the  midwives  of  £gypt,  the  Crypteia  of  Lace- 
demon,  or  the  night-work  of  Jamaica. 

'  But  I  check  myself.  Who  are  we  to  reprove  the  Americans  ?  We 
must  wash  our  own  hands  of  the  blood-stain  before  we  dare  hold  them 
np  as  witnesses  against  them.  We.  may  not  be  so  bad  as  they  are ; 
yet  we  are  hx  too  deeply  involved  to  reprove,  rebuke,  and  exhort  with 
all  authority.  We,  therefore,  entreat  you,  we  conjure  you,  by  every 
principle,  both  of  humanity  and  religion,  in  the  crisis  of  approaching 
discossion,  to  circulate  information,  and,  personally  merging  all  poli- 
tical considerations,  to  aid  those  who  are  determined  promptly  and 
conscientiously  to  do  this  great  work  of  justice  and  mercy.  Let  us  be 
determined  to  dash  to  shivers  this  frightful  likeness  of  "  Molock,  hor- 
rid kingv  besmeared  with  blood,"  which  avarice,  the  besetting  sin  of  a 
commercial  community,  has  raised  in  everv  sugar-plantation  through- 
out the  British  dominions.  Very  much  will  depend  upon  the  attitude 
assumed  by  the  religious  public.  It  is  known  to  be  our  cause.  In  the 
recent  elections,  the  efforts  which  were  so  eminently  successfiil  in  pro- 
curing attention  and  support  for  this  cause,  were  made,  I  believe,  ex- 
clusively by  religious  people.  The  ark  of  the  Lord  has,  once  more, 
amidst  the  strife  and  conflict  of  parties,  become  the  depository  of  jus- 
tice, mercy,  and  freedom.' — pp.  21 — 24. 

The  demand,  Mr.  Halley  goes  on  to  remark,  must  be  for 
'  entire  emancipation.^  He  does  not  explain  in  what  sense  he 
uses  these  words,  which  are  susceptible  of  a  strength  of  import 
which  he  did  not  probably  intend.  Emancipation  must  be  so  far 
*  entire^  as  to  produce  an  entire  change  in  the  condition  of  the 
slave,  raising  him  at  once  from  a  thing  to  a  person,  from  a  chattel 
to  a  man ;  and  this  is  all  that  we  understand  him  to  mean.  But 
entire  in  the  sense  of  unconditional,  prudence  and  humanity 
would  forbid  it  to  be ;  since  the  relation  between  the  master  and 
the  slave  must  still  be  continued,  for  the  sake  of  both  parties, 
under  the  altered  terms  and  conditions  of  employer  and  labourer, 
land-proprietor  and  cultivator ;  and  the  restrictions  of  law  and 
police  must  be  substituted  for  the  irresponsible  tyranny  of  the 
slave-driver.  Into  these  considerations,  however,  we  do  not  deem 
it  requisite,  on  the  present  occasion,  more  distinctly  to  enter.  Mr. 
Halley  concludes  his  discourse  with  the  following  striking  and 
energetic  appeal. 

*  Freemen,  patriots,  philanthropists.  Christians,  lovers  of  the  Sab- 
bath, friends  of  missions,  our  appeal  is  made  to  you.  For  the  sake  of 
our  country,  what  a  weight  of  guilt  does  she  bear !— for  the  sake  of 


350  Colonicd  Slavery. 

our  brotlier  missionttrics,  whose  chapels  are  in  ruius,  and  whose  flodu 
are  scattered  without  a  shepherd — fbr  the  sake  of  our  religion,  bow 
reproached  through  the  cruelties  of  its  professors  ! — for  the  sake  of  our 
brethren  and  sisters  in  hard  bondage^  and  their  and  our  common  Sa- 
viour, who  will  accept  the  act  of  kindness  done  for  them^  as  though  it 
were  done  unto  himself, — promptly  and  iirmly  unite,  in  the  benevoleit 
spirit  of  your  religion,  to  procure  a  l^islative  enactment,  commensu- 
rate with  the  demands  of  justice  and  mercy;  abandon  the  gain  of  op- 
pression and  hire  of  the  labourers  now  in  your  storehouses.  Wash  yoo* 
make  you  clean,  put  away  the  evils  of  your  doings ;  cease  to  do  efil ; 
learn  to  do  well.  So  shall  the  blessing  of  him  that  was  ready  to  peridb 
come  upon  you.  The  great  national  reproach  will  be  rolled  away,  and 
Britain  become  an  example  to  the  world,  of  the  strength  of  reiigioui 
principle  nobly  triumphing  over  the  avarice  and  heartlcssness  of  oihd- 
mercial  speculation.  The  slavery  of  France  and  Holland  would  soon 
fall ;  and  even  America,  with  her  mass  of  wretched  bondsmen,  oould 
hardly  fail  to  wasli  her  hands  in  innocence,  did  she  feel  the  execratioiis 
of  a  liberated  world  fall  up6n  her  crimes. 

'  But  if  we  forbear  to  deliver  them  that  are  drawn  unto  death,  and 
those  that  are  ready  to  be  slain :  doth  not  he  that  pondereth  the  heart 
consider  it?— and  ne  that  keepeth  thy  soul,  doth  not  he  know  it.^— 
and  shall  not  he  render  to  every  man  according  to  his  works  ?  Shall 
not  he,  who  drowned  the  Egyptian  slave-masters  in  the  Red  Sea,  and 
doomed  their  house  of  bondage  to  become  the  basest  of  kingdoms, — 
shall  not  he,  who  condemned  his  people  Israel  to  exile  and  silent  an- 
guish by  the  river  of  Babylon,  for  just  so  many  years  as  they  and  their 
fathers  liad  neglected  the  merciful  provision  of  releasing  their  servants 
on  the  Sabbatical  year,—  shall  not  he,  who  called  up  the  fierceness  of 
the  iVIedes  against  great  Babylon,  and  brought  down  to  the  grave  her 
king  from  the  midst  of  his  revels,  because  ''  he  opened  not  the  houae 
of  his  prisoners," — shall  not  he,  whose  providence  in  every  age  is  t 
perpetual  commentary  upon  that  text,  "  Woe  unto  him  that  uaeth  \m 
neighbour's  service  without  wages,  and  giveth  him  not  for  his  work,"— 
shall  not  he,  who  in  our  own  times  humbled  the  eagles  of  Buonapsrtt 
before  ill-disciplined  negroes,  when  they  made  all  Christendom  tron- 
ble, — who,  amidst  the  tears  of  us  all,  blotted  out  Poland  firom  the  map 
of  £uropc,  when  her  serfs  were  slaves,  and  her  nobles  claimed  to  be 
their  proud  proprietors, — who  has  bruken  the  bastions  of  Algiers,  and 
quenched  her  fiery  crescent  in  the  blood  of  her  sons,  that  she  can  never 
any  more  make  gainful  traffic  by  the  man-stealing  of  her  corsairs  and 
the  flesh  of  her  captives  ;— shall  not  he, — but  I  dare  not  anticipate  hit 
judgements,  when  he  cometh  out  of  his  place  to  make  inquisiti<m  for 
blood,  which  I  hope  our  rulers  and  people  are  preparing,  not  to  en- 
counter, but  to  avert,  by  timely  repentance,  and  listening  to  his  v<aat, 
while  it  gives  an  awful  sanction  and  emphasis  of  thunder  to  the  piere* 
ing  cry  of  the  negro  from  across  the  Atlantic,  *'  Am  I  not  a  man  and  t 
brother !"  "  Yet  now  your  flesh  is  as  the  flesh  of  our  brethren,  our 
children  as  your  children,  and  lo !  you  liring  into  bondage  our  sons  and 
our  daughters,  and  our  daughters  are  brought  into  bondage  already, 
neither  is  it  in  our  power  to  redeem  them." 


Colonial  Slavery.  351 

Art.  IX.     Address  on  Slavery,  Sabbath  Protection,  and  Church  Re- 
Jorm,     By  James  Douglas,  Esq.,  of  Cavers.    8vo.    pp.  QQ.    Edin- 
burgh.    1833. 


'T^HE  preceding  article  was  already  in  the  printer'*s  hands,  when 
this  pamphlet  reached  us,  containing  an  Address  to  the 
Christian  public,  from  one  whose  voice  will  command  and  reward 
attention,  upon  the  three  great  topics  which  at  the  present  mo- 
ment share  without  dividing  the  general  interest.  The  substance 
of  this  address,  with  some  variations,  ^  was  delivered  at  several 

*  meetings  for  the  purpose  of  recommending  signatures  to  petition 

*  for  the  Abolition  of  Slavery, — ^for  Sabbath  Protection, — and  for 
^  Church  Reform.     It  is  now  published,  partly  from  notes  taken 

*  down  at  one  of  those  meetings,  that  it  may  reach  in  a  printed 

*  form,  those  whom  the  Writer  had  it  not  in  his  power  to  address 

*  in  person.**  Without  further  preface,  and  with  little  comment, 
we  shall  proceed  to  lay  before  our  readers  some  extracts  from  this 
spirit-stirring  appeal. 

'  The  West  Indies  are  an  example  that  the  laws  of  God  arc  never 
neglected  with  impunity,  and  that  no  lasting  prosperity  can  be  based 
upon  injustice  and  human  misery.  Whether  we  look  to  the  wretched 
Slaves ;  the  bankrupt  planters ;  or  their  creditors,  the  merchants,  who 
lend  out  their  money  upon  usury,  in  vain  sought  to  be  wrung  out  of  the 
tears  and  blood  of  wretched  men ;  or  to  that  portion  of  the  British 
army,  which,  to  the  disgrace  of  this  country,  forms  the  only  solid  sup- 
port of  a  system  as  impolitic  as  it  is  unjust, — we  every  where  behold 
the  curse  of  an  avenging  God  pressing  heavily  upon  the  abettors  of  this 
slavish  tyranny,  which  is  without  its  equal  in  atrocity,  either  in  ancient 
or  modem  times.  The  command  of  God  to  the  parents  of  the  human 
race,  to  replenish  the  earth  and  possess  it,  which  has  overcome  all  other 
preventive  checks  to  population,  disease,  misery,  and  vice,  is  yet  found 
too  weak  to  resist  the  overwhelming  evils  of  Colonial  Slavery.  The 
ill-gotten  treasure  of  the  planter  is  his  gang  of  slaves,  and  these  slaves 
are  perishing  under  the  lash  of  their  shortsighted  oppressors.  While 
the  West  Indies  arc  dispeopling  of  their  inhabitants,  their  fertile  soil 
itself  is  stricken  with  an  increasing  barrenness,— the  necessary  effect 
of  slave  cultivation.  Britain,  in  addition  to  a  new  load  of  guilt,  has  a 
new  load  of  taxes,  in  the  shape  of  bounties  and  preferences,  to  the  in- 
humanity and  folly  of  employing  slave  instead  of  free  labour ;  and  its 
C4immerce  is  restricted,  and  its  workmen  unemployed,  in  order  that  the 
planters  may  continue  to  extort  labour  by  the  cart-whip,  instead  of 
paying  the  laboorer  his  justly  merited  wages.  If  there  is  a  spot  in  ex- 
istence (except  the  regions  of  eternal  punishment)  where  all  things  are 
contrary  to  the  mind  and  laws  of  God,  we  must  certainly  find  it  in  tlie 
West  Indies,  where  property  is  robbery ;  labour,  tyrannous  exaction  ; 
law,  merciless  oppression  ;  governors,  murderers  and  mcn-stoalers ;  and 
where  all  things  are  conducted,  not  according  to  the  maxims  of  a  wise 
and  holy  Being,  but  acct^ding  to  the  devices  of  the  enemy  of  human 


352  CoUmial  Slavery. 

happiness^ — the  envier,  in  his  own  abyss  of  misery^  of  all  prosperitr, 
and  whOj  in  the  triumph  of  evil  over  good  in  the  West  Indies,  gloriei 
that  he  has  still  unlimited  power  in  one  corner  of  the  world*  uoo^ 
even  there,  while  one  well-wisher  to  humanity  remains  on  earth,  nei- 
ther he  nor  his  adherents  can  hope  any  longer  to  keep  "  his  goods  ii 
peace."  ' 

^  Tlie  slaves  are  claimed  as  the  property  of  their  owners.  "  Mu 
can  have  no  property  in  man."  The  very  claim  to  such  a  propertj 
strikes  at  the  root  of  all  property  whatsoever.  Grod  is  the  proprietor 
of  all  things,  because  he  is  tne  Creator  of  all  things.  Labour  stampi 
a  right  of  propertv  upon  the  objects  on  which  it  is  exercised,  beetiue 
it  creates  their  value.  God  havinc  only  given  the  raw  elements^  and 
having  appointed  that  the  art  and  labour  of  man  should  H'ork  them 
into  their  useful  applications,  has  thus  given  to  man  a  right  of  pro- 
prietorship, by  making  him  a  fellow- worker  with  himself.  God 
creates,  and  man  forms.  But  no  man  can  assert  a  right  of  prapeftr 
in  the  involuntary  labour  of  other  men,  without  vitiating  the  title  on 
which  all  his  own  property  rests.  By  such  a  claim  be  shakes  the 
foundation  upon  which  civil  society  is  built,  and  introduces  a  uniTeml 
system  of  robbery  and  wrong.  Man  can  have  no  property  in  mUL 
The  slave-holders  are  therefore  men-stealers,  for  wrong  by  repetition 
can  never  become  right,  but,  by  continuance^  is  only  a  more  intole- 
rable and  excessive  wrong.' 

•  ••••• 

'  It  is  argued  from  the  Bible  by  the  slave-owners — ^who,  alas  !  sel- 
dom quote  the  Bible  to  a  better  purpose — that  slavery  is  permitted,  if 
not  sanctioned,  in  Scripture,  not  only  by  the  example  of  the  Pa- 
triarchs, but  by  the  Mosaic  precepts. 

*  The  truth,  however,  is,  that  the  Bible  does  not  sanction  slavery ; 
it  only  sanctions  its  mitigations  and  restrictions.  The  legislatioo  of 
Moses  on  this  head,  goes  to  this  one  point — ^not  to  establish  slavery. 
but  to  temper  it,  and,  in  n*any  instances,  to  terminate  it.  Grod,  iv 
the  hands  of  IVIoses,  gave  such  a  constitution  to  the  Israelites^  thtt 
even  the  most  mitigated  form  of  slavery  could  exist  to  no  extent 
amongst  them.  By  this  constitution,  after  having  once  settled  in  Ck- 
naan,  they  were  disqualified  from  carrying  on  offensive  wars,  till  the 
changes  in  their  government  that  occurred  about  the  time  of  Dtevid, 
and  had,  consequent! v,  no  prisoners  of  war  to  dispose  of  as  bondmen; 
and,  by  the  agrarian  law  of  Israel,  slavery  was  rendered  altogether  nn- 
profitable ;  for  who  in  his  own  hereditary  garden  would  employ  the 
wasteful  labour  of  the  slave,  when  with  ease  he  could  cultivate  his 
own  estate  by  his  own  free,  intelligent,  and  productive  efforts  ^  SlavcfT 
can  only  be  profitable  in  an  ill-peopled  country,  and  in  a  new  soil'; 
but  Canaan,  before  the  Isnielites  entered  it,  was  already  fertile  by  srti- 
iicial  means,  and,  both  before  and  after  its  conquest  by  Joshua,  wai 
crowded  with  population.  The  slave-owners  app^  to  the  Bible  when 
it  suits  their  pur|)06e  so  to  do ;  but  they  would  not,  we  presume,  wish 
the  laws  of  Israel  revived,  by  which  it  was  decreed,  that  "  he  thtt 
stealeth  a  man,  and  selleth  him,  or  if  he  be  found  in  his  hand,  he  shiU 


ColofHal  Sfld^y.  353 

,Barelj  ht  put  to  death."  A'hd  if  ReVdiftibn  hsi$  not  a^Ush'ed  sSaveiy 
pontirely  m  direct  temis^  it  has  ddife  so  in  e^ect^  cpmmandfng  every 
man  to  loVe  his  neighbour  as  htms):}!/. 

'  The  injustice^  then,  of  the  Weiit  Indian  system  is  manifest  from 
€tkh, — ^that  man,  by  right,  can  have  no  property  in  man :  but  the 
whote  West  Indian  system  is  founded  on  a  property  in  man ;  hence, 
whh  them,  wrong  must  be  right,  and  right  wrong.     The  order  of  na- 
ture is  perpetually  reversed— the  rule  of  eternal  justice  for  ever  vio- 
lated.   What  is  praised  in  Britain  is  execrated  in  the  West  Indies  ;~-^ 
whAt  is  here  the  object  of  reward,  is  there  the  subje^  of  punishment. 
•  The  very  laws  themselves  are  the  wdrst  part  of  the  system,  being,  a 
Eolation  of  all  law.     There  the  innocent  become  the  victims,  and  the 
erimtnBls  are  the  judges  and  itte  le^'slators.     Tyrants  alone  talk  of 
liberty  and  independen'cb,  hhd  ^hose  who  have  the  hearts  of  Tell  and 
of  Bruce,  must  either  live  branded  as  slaves,  or  be  massacred  like  d(^. 
"In  Britain  all  preisti  nipt  ions  arb  in  iRftvdur  'df  libei'tv, — in  the  West  In- 
diea  of  slavery.    Whoever  touches  the  soil  of  Britain  is  free  ;  what- 
ever Bkck,  withodt  thb  Required  certificates,  touches  the  soil  of  ihe 
West  Indian  Islands,  "is,  acc<^rding  to  the  proper  form,  seized,  piil:  into 
" thte  cag^,"  adV^Med  ten  days,  and,  "if  no  owner  or  claimant  ap- 
pear," is  sold  to  pay  the  expenses ;  so  that,  if  he  has  no  master  upon 
nis  arrival^  he  is  sure  by  this  admirable  process  to  find  one  sooner  or 
iAter.'— pp.  13  -15. 

Mr.  Douglas  proceeds  to  answer  the  inquiry.  For  ;^li6^  pVit 
fit  does  this  miniature  of  hell  exist  ?  Not,  accdming  Ip  their  own 
shewing,  for  that  of  the  planters.  As  far  i)ack  as  Xlik  twenty 
years  horn  177^  ^^  ^19'2^  the  Committee  o£  tjie  Jainajpa  w^ 
setnbly  reported,  ttiat  there  had  been  in  the  course, of.  that  time 
1^7  estates  sold  for  debt,  and  55  thrown,  up;  wbile4  at  the  end 
of  tliat  period,  92  estates  remained  in  the  hands  of  creditors. 
Their  present  bankrupt  conditio*!!  is,  then,  6f  too  long  standing  to 
be  ascribed  to  anti-slavery  agitation  with  the  slightest  shadow  of 
truth.  Not  Sat  the  profit  of  the  Bristol  tricrchants.  The  fner- 
chant,  fer  the  mm  part^  prefer^  the  risk  df  losir/g  hi^  money,  to 
the  gretfte^  risk  it  Ikithmiti^  the  p/k-oprietor  of  the  riiortgaged 
plantation. 

'  If,  th^n,'  Mitixnies  Mr.  Douglas,  '  neither  the  plantef^  ribr  the 
merchants  ar^  ^nenr  by  the  colonial  system,  is  Britain  a  gained  f  If 
squaiidering  hn  and  rhdii^y  be  a  gain  to  her,— if  adding  to  her  taxes^ 
and  providing  grarves  for  her  soldiers, — if  becoming  a  party  to  wrongs 
whim  are  crying  to  Heaven  for  vengeance,  be  gain  to  Britain,  then 
has  she  fitted  in  the  West  Indies  an  inexhaustible  treasure.  If  it  be 
fbr  her  advantage  to  uphold  a  body  of  men  ready  to  plead  for  every 
abiMe>  so  that  their  own  enormities  may  remain  untouched,  such  a 
corps  she  has  had  during  many  a  sitting  of  Parliament.  It  is  to  be 
hoped,  under  a  reformed  Parliament,  the  case  is  different;  but  it' was 
formerly  calculated  that  the  West  India  interest  alone  supplied  fifty- 
~^^>  members  of  the  House  of  Commons,  the  well-discipHned  phalanx, 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  X  X 


354  Cohnial  Slavery. 

the  constant  advocates^  of  corraption^  ready  to  sapport  any  ministrj 
that  would  connive  at  their  violation  of  all  laws  divue  and  human. 

'  While  things  continued  in  this  state,  little  could  be  hoped  fraa 
the  British  Legislature ;  but  now  that  public  opinion  is  aluiwed  to 
bear  upon  the  election  of  members  of  Parliament — now  that  the  poUie 
voice  possesses  the  means  of  commanding  attention — ^we  may  hope  that 
a  speedy  end  will  be  put  to  this  most  absurd  and  cruel  waste  of  Britiih 
blood  and  treasure  in  the  West  Indies. 

'  No  folly  could  be  equal  to  the  folly  of  Britain,  to  say  nothing  rf 
inhumanity,  if  the  present  ruinous  system  is  continued  even  dnnng 
the  course  of  another  year ; — it  is  the  supineness  of  the  British  natioB 
alone  that  can  permit  to  slavery  a  longer  existence,  and  can  suffer  her 
own  burdens  to  be  increased,  in  order  to  enable  the  planters  to  eontimw 
to  extort  a  prolongation  of  their  present  ruinous  misgovernmentj  out  rf 
the  aggravated  wrongs  of  the  wretched  Africans. 

'  The  most  extravagant  individuals  find  their  vices  the  most  costly 
of  their  luxuries,  and  nations  are  most  impoverished  by  their  politied 
crimes.  The  West  Indies  have  proved  one  great  source  of  ddit  and 
expenditure  to  Britain.  We  may  depend  upon  it,  that  nothing  bat 
the  bounties  and  protections  granted  year  after  year  upon  West  Indian 
produce,  could  have  enabled  the  slave-holder  to  compete  with  the  la- 
bour of  free  men  in  the  East  Indies,  and  on  the  African  coasts.  It  if 
out  of  the  pockets  of  this  nation,  heavily  as  we  are  taxed,  and  griev- 
ously as  we  complain  of  our  burdens,  that  the  money  comes,  whidi  en- 
ables the  West  Indian  planter,  with  his  monopoly  and  bounties,  to  re- 
sist the  natural  effects  of  that  universal  law  which  dooms  to  unpro- 
ductiveness the  labour  of  slaves,  and  curses  with  barrenness,  the  soil, 
however  fertile,  where  the  labourer  is  deprived  of  his  just  share  of  the 
produce.  Had  slave-labour  in  the  West  Indies  been  left  to  the  un- 
troubled laws  of  nature,  slavery  would  by  this  time  have  died  a  na- 
tural death  throughout  the  British  colonies.  But  Britain  intercepts 
this  benevolent  provision  of  the  Author  of  Nature  for  the  emancipa- 
tion of  slaves ;  and,  by  bounties  and  taxes,  wrung  out  of  the  produc- 
tive labour  of  free  men,  prevents  the  unproductiveness  of  oompulsory 
labour  from  telling  to  its  full  extent  in  favour  of  the  slaves ;  wfaib 
two- elevenths  of  her  whole  military  force  go  to  the  maintenance  of  that 
unjust  and  inhuman  tyranny,  usurped  by  a  handful  of  white  men  over 
thousands  of  their  fellow  creatures. 

*  By  an  elaborate  and  moderate  computation,  the  military  and  navsl 
expenses  of  maintaining  the  West  India  Islands  in  a  state  of  slaveryt 
especially  if  the  Mauritius  and  the  Cape  are  added,  cannot  fall  ahort  of 
two  millions  sterling  annually.  The  duties  and  drawbacks  on  sugar 
have  been  estimated,  with  equal  care,  at  one  million  two  hundred 
thousand  pounds  sterling ;  and,  if  we  add  the  loss  that  we  suffer  Iraa 
excluding  the  productions  of  the  richest  countries  of  the  east,  the  toCsl 
amount  of  Britain's  loss  cannot  possibly  be  much  overstated  at  four 
millions  a-year.  When  England  is  so  anxious  about  economy,  that 
even  the  reduction  of  a  few  thousands  a-ycar  is  esteemed  a  matter  of 
great  moment,  and  members  are  forced  to  make  all  sorts  of  excuses  to 
their  constituents  for  not  voting  in  favour  of  any  measure  which  would 
produce  a  saving  of  even  an  uconsiderable  sum^  shall  four  milljimt 


Colonial  Slavery.  855 

s-yctr  be  qniedy  suffered  to  be  wasted,  and  wasted  upon  a  system  alike 
dcatfuctive  of  witish  property  and  British  life  ? 

'  The  loss  of  money,  however,  be  it  erer  so  great,  cannot  compare 
with  the  cruel  waste  of  life  occasioned  by  sending  our  soldiers  to  tnose 
pestilential  regions,  whose  very  atmosphere  is,  in  many  cases,  death  to 
the  uninured  whites,  and  certain  loss  of  health  to  all.  In  1826,  of 
the  eighty-three  regiments  then  in  the  British  service,  twenty  were 
placed  in  the  West  Indies,  being  only  three  less  than  the  number  of 
diose  which  were  then  stationed  in  distracted  Ireland,  (excluding  the 
reserve  corps,)  and  only  six  less  than  are  in  Ireland  at  this  present 
eventful  crisis.  While  twenty  regiments  were  required  for  the  West 
Indies,  nine  were  deemed  sufficient  for  Britain.  If  we  inquire,  against 
what  enemy  so  large  a  force  was  accumulated,  we  find  the  West  In- 
dies threatened  with  no  danger  from  without ;  their  only  danger  was 
from  within.  The  British  fleet  had  possession  of  the  sea ;  Britain 
was  at  peace  with  the  world ;  but  slavery  could  not  be  maintained 
witboat  the  presence  of  a  force,  which  misht  have  spread  the  influence 
of  Britain  over  the  farthest  east,  but  i^ich,  without  a  battle  or  an 
enemy^  was  wasting  away  under  the  influence  of  a  West  Indian  cli- 
mate. 

'  In  June  1829,  when  Parliament  ordered  the  returns  to  be  laid  be- 
fore them  of  the  mortality  of  our  army  in  the  West  Indies,  thoise  re- 
turns were  withheld ;  and  Parliament  acquiesced  in  the  non*produc- 
tion  of  them,  on  the  implied  understanding  that  they  containea  details 
too  horrible  to  meet  the  public  eye. 

'  The  then  Secretary  of  War,  Sir  Henry  Hardinge,  was  reported  to 
have  said,  that  the  inspection  of  these  returns  would  ''  be  too  horri- 
fying for  the  public."  W  hat,  then,  are  we  to  think  of  the  iron  nerves 
of  those  rulers  who  can  calmly  surrender  their  fellow-citizens  to  evils 
too  horrible  to  be  contemplated  ? 

'  Will  the  Secretary  of  War  exult  in  having  nerves  to  execute  that, 
which  the  body  of  the  nation  are  not  supposed  to  have  nerves  to  bear 
the  recital  of?  But  has  Britain  much  cause  to  rejoice  in  rulers  who 
possess  so  extraordinary  a  pre-eminence  above  their  fellow  citizens,  in 
the  intrepidity  with  wnich  they  can  contemplate  human  life  unprofit* 
aUy  squandered  away  ?  Anxiously,  however,  as  they  were  concealed, 
a  part  of  those  horrors  have  transpired.  The  then  Secretary  of  War 
is  understood  to  have  allowed  that,  out  of  three  regiments,  consisting 
of  2700  men,  sent  to  one  of  the  islands,  one-third  had  perished  in  one 
season  !  If  the  choice  had  been  offered  to  those  unfortunate  regiments 
to  decline  the  duty,  on  the  condition  of  having  every  third  man  of 
them  shot  upon  the  spot,  they  would  have  been  gainers,  had  they  pre- 
itOTed  the  horrible  alternative.  They  would  have  been  spared  the 
previous  pangs  of  wasting  sickness,  they  would  have  died  in  their  own 
land,  and  in  the  sight  of  their  friends,  bedewed  with  their  tears,  and 
buried  by  their  hands.  Nor  let  us  suppose  that  the  loss  of  these  regi- 
ments was  limited  to  a  third.  Death  did  not  cease  his  work  the  fol- 
lowing years,  though  his  havock  may  be  most  dreadful  on  the  first. 
Who  more  might  have  perished,  or  what  feeble  remnants  of  these  de- 
voted regiments  might  have  returned  to  their  country,  is  known 
only   to  the  Secretary  of   War,  and   tliose  of  his  colleagues  who 

X  X  2 


3^6,  Colonial,  Slavery. 

have,  nerves  to  iace  tbe  greatness  of  the  disaster,  Na  doubt,  if  the 
present  colonial  system  Wiere  abpliriiedy  we  misht  still  be  obliged  to, 
keep  up  some  military  force  in  the  W  est  Indies,  out  a  much  less  might 
suffice,  and  the  regiments  might  mainly  consist  of  blacksj  upon  whoa 
the  climate  does  not  produce  such  baleful  effects,  and  who  might  re- 
lieve, the.  white  tfoops  of  the  most  wasting  part  of  their  duty;  bat, 
while  slavery  exists^  so  large  a  white  force  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
maintain  the  system. uf  compulsory  labour  and  the  lash. 

'  The  planter's,  indeed,  jn-their  rag^  against  our  legislature^  for  the 
very  moderate  restrictions  it  has  attemptedFfrom  time  to  time  toimpoM 
upon  their  cruelties,  talk  loudly  of  asserting  their  independence.  How 
capable  they  are  of  doing  so,  is  abundantly  evident  from  the  fact^  that 
wnen,  upon  an  alarm  of  insurrection,  they  flew  to  arms,  their  bolleti 
were  found  not  to  have  been  adapted  to  the  bore  of  thejr  Runs  ;.aod, 
upon  another  occasion,  they  were  forced  to .  entreat  a  Bntisb  Vessel 
accidentally  lying  off*  the  coast,  to  come  near  to  the  shore,  that  the 
terror  of  her  cannon  might  awe  into  obedience  the  slaves,  whom  they 
had  it  no^  in  their  power  to  reduce  to  submission  by  their  own  eftuts. 
These  are  the  men  who  threaten  to  shake  off  the  British  yoke,  and 
are  enraged  at  the  mention  of  any  interference  between  them  and  th«r 
property  !  When  they  talk  of  .rising  against  Britain  over  their  san- 
garee,  no  wonder  their  slaves  talk  oi  rising  against  them.  Without, 
the  arm  of  power  which  Britain  has  stretched  over  .them,  it  stands  to 
reason  that  a  handful  of  white  men  could  not  have,  restrained  thou- 
sands of  blacks  from  asserting  the  natural,  rights  of  humanity  ;  and, 
but  for  her  ill-judged  bounties  and  protections,  they  must  Iqng:  since 
have  thrown  up  t^ieir  plantations  in  qes^mir..  Theirs  are  ii,ot,twathon- 
sand  sugar  plunt<*rs,  and  they  receive  one  million  .two  .huni^^recl 'thou- 
sand pounds  of,  British  njoney,  to  enable  th^m  to  set  tne  laws  both  of 
nattirc  and  humanity  at  defiance.  These  magnificent  pauper8».by  the 
help  of  Britain,  can  at  once  evade  :the  benevolent  provision^  ot  Na- 
ture, and  blaspheme  the  hand  that  feeds  them  ;' for  a  part  (^  their 
pensions  are  allotted  to  a  secret  fund,  which  rewai^s  toe  hired  in- 
vective, calumnv,  and  falsehood,  of  the  advocates  or  slavery  in  Bri- 
tain/— pp.  17-24. 

We  will  not  offend  our  rcadet^  by  ofTcring  any  apology. for  the 
length  of  these  citations.  Should  the  language  be  thought  by 
any  person  too  strong,  Mr.  Douglas  is  able  to  atlswer  for  himself. 
W«  must  transcribe  one  more  paragrapl)  from  this  part  of  the 
address.  ^ ' 

^  We  pray  for  immediate  abolition,  because  gradual  emancipation  is 
now  ont  of  the  question.  The  planters  .themselves  have  solved  the 
difficulty  ;  they  have  left  us  no  alternative  between  immediate  eman- 
cipation, or  certain  insurrection.  Gradual,  means  step  by  st<^,  but 
the  planters  will  not  take  the  first  step  towards  emancipating  the 
Negroes.  * 

'  liklncation  and  religion  arc  the  preparatory  measures  which  have 
long  been  pbinte<l  out  as  the  safest  and  surest  mode  of  fitting  the  slaves 
for  the  blessing  of  freedom.     Education/ however,  (except  teaching 


Colonial  Sh^ery-  357 

bem  to  repeat  the  CHmrch  Catechism  by  rote),  the  planters  deny  to 
^cir  slaves,  and  the  teachers  of  religion  they  every  where  persecute 
r  forcibly  expel;  The  planters  are,  indeed,  preparing  a  gradual 
btjlition  of  their  own,  but  it  is  one  not  to  our  British  tastes.  They 
rc^  gradually  abolishing  slavery,  because  they  are  gradually  extermin- 
Atig  thedaves.  They  have  proclaimed  but  one  liberty  for  them,  and 
bat  18,  to  the  death.  The  grave  has  been  the  only  door  of  emanci- 
Ation  opened,  to  tfai^  wretch^  beings  by  their  masters,  and  jt  has 
pened  its  mouth  without  measure.  The  time  for  gradual  emancipa- 
im  is  past-;  to  attempt  any  such  process  now,  would  be  only  to  irri- 
mte  both  the  planters  and  the  slaves,  and  hasten  the  dreaded  crisis  of 
iifiPnrqfctiAVi  r  1$ .  is  safer  tp  grant  all  than  to  grant  a  part ;  to  make 
*he  slave  completely  free,  than  to  give  him  merely  such  a  portion  of 
Freedom,  as  should  make  him  more  impatient  of  the  remaining  restric- 
•  p.  29. 


The  second  part  of  the  address  includes  a  beautiful  argument 
finr  tbe  Sabbath,  in  its  twofold  character  of  a  religious  dtity  and  a 
civil  privUege : — 

''The  greatest  privilege  which'  the  majority  of  our  nation  possess ; — 
a  pntH^' without  vhich^  all -other  privileges  would  be  vain; — for,  at 
thiif  m9m*(^nt,  it  is  the  great  barrier  against  the  d^radation  of  the 
race ;  a^reserve  in  spite  of  themselves,  of  the  liberty  of  the  commu- 
nity, which,  if  left  unbcfriended  by  the  Legislature,  pressed  as  they 
are  by  the  approach  of  famine,  and  beset  by  every  form  of  misery, 
tl^sy  would  be  too, apt  tp  barter  away;  though  they  would,  not  obtain 
for  it  even  the  biriVetl^.  wrought  upou.  Esau^-^n  additional  mess  of 
pot^tage;  siape  the,  more.labour.  th^it  is  brought  intg  the .madcet,  the 
narder  are  the  conditions  on  which  it  will  be  purchased. . 

'  It  js  from  the  want  of  attending  to  this  aistinction,  that  the  Sab- 
bath is  both  a  religious  duty  and  a  civil  privilege,'  thMmost  of  the  ob- 
jections against  Sabbath  protection  proceed.  As  far  as  it  is  a  rdidoos 
duty^  itrm^at  .be  enlQnci^  ,by  the.  Pnlp^t  and  not  by , the.  Laws.-  Reli- 
ffVOB  ja^a  volpnt^ry  and!i  r^asoi^able  seryiqe;  ,men  cannot  be  compelled 
by  human  enactments  to  give  their  hearts  unto  God,  and  to  live  to  the 
great  ends  of  their  being ;  all  that  can  be  done,  is  to  propose  right 
motives  for  this  voluntary  surrender  of  their  homage  to  the  King  of 
Kings.  When  the  State  interferes  in*  matters  of  religion,  its  interpo- 
sition js  both;,  awkward  "and  ineifoctual.  In  such  matters^  we  neither 
desire  norrequii^  its  aid.  But  the  Sabbath  is  a  civiLinriTUege^  andse 
£EHr  is  t^e  pr6per -object -of  *  state  pvotectaon.'    pp.  41  y  42. 

f  « 

Tp  JVlip..Xk^lHs?B  j^miirJ^B  on  Church  Reform,  we  shall  advert 
in  our  next  Number,  in  :noticing.  a>  few  of  thq  pamphlets  that 
htLve  accumulated  on  our  table  sinpe  we  laet  .adverted  to  this  pro- 
lific subject., 


(    368    ) 


Art.  X.    LITERARY  INTELLIGENCE. 

In  the  pre8s>  Facts^  not  Fables:  with  nomenms  Engravingt.    Bj 
Chas.  Williams. 

In  the  pres8>  The  Proilignl.     By  the  Rev.  I.  Thornton.     92mo. 

In  the  press^  Spirituality  of  Mind.  By  Rev.  Jos.  Fletcher^  D.D. 
32xno. 

In  the  press>  Conversations  on  Christian  Polity.  By  a  Lady.  1  Vol 
12mo. 

In  the  press^  and  shortly  will  be  published^  A  Volume  of  Sennom. 
By  the  late  Rev.  W.  Howels. 

In  the  press^  Fancy  Fair ;  to  which  is  added>  Starlight ;  or,  a  Soent 
at  Tweeddale. 

In  the  press,  Bibliotheca  Classica;  or^  a  new  Classical  Dictionarr: 
containing  an  authentic  and  minute  Account  of  the  proper  names  whick 
occur  in  Latin  and  Greek  Authors,  relating  to  History,  Biography, 
Mythology,  Geography,  and  Antiquities.  By  John  Dymock,  LL.1). 
and  Thomas  Dymuck>  JM.A.  In  one  large  volume.  8vo.  Neariy 
ready* 

The  Entomology  of  Australia,  in  a  Series  of  Monographs.  Bj 
George  Robert  Gray.  Part  I.  containing  the  genus  Phasma.  In  4Ka 
With  Eight  Plates  and  Descriptive  Letterpress,  plain  and  ooloored, 
will  appear  June  1 . 

In  the  press.  Lectures  on  Poetry  and  General  Literature.  By  Ji 
Montgomery.     1  Vol.  post  8vo. 


Directions  for  the  Analysis  of  Inorganic  Substances.     By  J.  J. 

zelius,  translated  from  the  French.     By  G.  O.  Rees.   Will  sbortly  be 
published,  in  1  Vol.  12mo. 

In  the  press,  and  shortly  will  be  published.  The  Life,  Timeii»  md 
Correspondence  of  Isaac  Watts,  D.D.  with  Notices  of  many  of  his 
Contemporaries,  and  a  Critical  Examination  of  his  Writings.  By  the 
Rev.  Thos.  Milner,  A.M.  Author  of  the  ''  History  of  the  Seven  Chnrdwi 
of  Asia."  I  thick  Volume.  8vo.  This  Work  will  contain  many  par- 
ticulars of  this  eminent  Divine  and  Poet,  hitherto  but  little  known — a 
full  inquiry  into  his  opinions  upon  the  Trinity,  with  a  view  to  asoertaia 
his  last  sentiments  upon  this  important  subject. 

The  Rev.  Ebenezer  Miller  has  issued  a  Prospectus  of  a  Series  of 
Gk<^;raphical  Tables,  designed  for  Youth,  and  intended  to  simplify 
the  work  of  Tuition,  by  presenting  the  leading  features  of  every 
country,  both  natural  ana  artificial,  in  a  condensed,  yet  comprehensive 
form.  The  names  of  those  towns  only  will  be  inserted  in  toe  Tabksy 
which  are  worthy  of  the  learner's  attention,  either  on  account  of  their 


I 

\  Literary  Intelligence*  369 

'  general  notoriety^  their  Extent>  Population,  Commerce^  Manufetcturej 

or  Antiquities,  &c     It  is  not  expected  that  the  Work  will  exceed 

r    Twelve  or  Fifteen  Numbers :  and  these  will  embrace  the  substance  of 

• '"  most  of  the  ordinary  Works  on  Gec^raphy ;  besides  containing  much 
useful  Information,  which  can  only  be  found  by  consulting  the  best 

wL  Gazetteers,  at  the  expence  of  much  time  and  labour.  As  an  Intro- 
duction to  the  Series,  a  General  Outline  or  Summary  of  the  Four 
Quarters  of  the  World,  on  the  same  plan,  and  on  the  race  of  a  single 

^    theet,  will  shortly  be  published.     The  price  of  each  No.  will  be  4d.  or 

J    Sf.  6d,  per  dozen. 

Preparing  for  the  press,  and   to  be  speedily  published.  The  Nar- 
^    rative  of  two  Expeditions  into  the  Interior  of  Australia,  undertaken 
;    hy  Captain  Charles  Sturt,  of  the  39th  Regiment,  by  order  of  the 
Colonial  Government,  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  the  Country  to  the 
^    west  and  north-west  of  the  Colony  of  New  South  Wales.     This  work 
will  contain  a  correct  Chart  of  the  Rivers  that  were  discovered ;  a 
minute  Description  of  the  Country,  its   Geology,  Productions,  the 
K    Character  of  its  Rivers,  Plains,  and  Inhabitants,  together  with  much 
I    vaeftil  information.   It  will  give  a  distinct  account  of  Captain  Barker's 
Survey  of  St.  Vincent's  Gulf,  the  nature  of  the  Soil  in  the  Pro- 
montory of  Cape  Jervis,  its  Streams,  Anchorage,  &c. ;  and  will  be 
illustrated  by  numerous  Drawings  of  the  Scenery,  Ornithology,  and 
Foasil  Formation  of  the  Country  traversed,  interspersed  with  nu- 
merous Anecdotes  of  the  Natives,  their  Manners,  Weapons,  and  other 
Peculiarities.     This  work  is  dedicated,  by  permission,  to  Lord  Gbde- 
Tich,  and  will  throw  a  new  light  on  the  whole  of  the  Country  that  was 
explored. 

In  the  course  of  this  month  will  appear.  An  Historical  Sketch  of 
the  Princes  of  India,  Stipendiary,  Subsidiary,  Protected,  Tributary, 
and  Feudatory ;  prefiaced  by  a  Sketch  of  the  origin  and  progress  of 
British  power  in  India.  With  a  brief  account  of  the  Civil,  Military, 
and  Judicial  Establishments  of  the  East  India  Company.  By  an 
Officer  in  the  Service  of  the  East  India  Company. 

The  Second  Edition  is  nearly  ready,  of  Prinsep's  Journal  of  a 
Voyaee  from  Calcutta  to  Van  Diemen's  Land ;  comprising  a  De- 
scription of  that  Colony  during  a  Six  ]\Ionths'  Residence,  llie  First 
Number  of  the  Series  of  Illustrations  to  Prinsep's  Journal,  will  be 
published  in  a  few  days. 

The  Fourth  Volume  of  the  Library  of  Romance,  edited  by  Leitch 
Ritchie,  is  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Gait,  Author  of  the  Ayrshire  Le- 
gatees, Laurie  Todd,  &c.,  and  is  entitled  "  The  Stolen  Child,  a  Tale 
of  the  Town ;"  founded  on  a  highly  interesting  fact. 

In  a  few  days  will  be  published.  Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  Corres- 
pondence of  the  Rev.  William  Lavers,  late  of  Honiton.  By  I.  S.  Elliott. 
With  a  portrait. 

On  May  I,  1833,  will  be  published,  demy  8yo.  Vol.  II.  (The  con- 
tiniiation)  of  The  Life  of  the  late  Dr.  Adam  Clarke  ;  (from  Original 
Papers^)  by  a  Metbber  of  his  family. 


S0O 


Woffat  recently  pubKshed, 


On  the  Ut.  of  May  will  be  published,  nml  8<rew  Pent  I.  «f  An  Ei- 
position  of  the  Gospels  of  8t.  Matthew  ana  St.  Mark»  ao^  <»tlKT  de- 
tached parts  of  Holy  Scripture.  By  the  lat-e  Rev.  Richard  Watson, 
Author  of  "A  Biblical  ana  Theological  Dictionary,**  &c.  &:e. 

Preparing  for  publication,  A  unifbrtn  edition  ef  the  Works  of  ^ 
late  Kev.  Richard  Watson,  ill  dc^^en  ▼olumes,  8vo.  :  inclndiif 
Memoirs  of  the  Authors  Life  and  Writings>  by  the  Rev.  Thomss 
Jackson. 

In  a  short  time  will  be  published.  Poetic  Vigils  ;  containing  a  Mo- 
nody on  the  Death  of  Adam  Clarke,  LL.D.  F.A.S.  &c»  &c.  Sec,  and 
other  Poems.     By  Willian  Bennct  Baker. 

In  the  press,  Tlie  Second  Vol.  of  Sermons  which  have  been  preacbed 
on  Public  Subjects  and  Solemn  occasions,  with  Especial  tlefeience  to 
the  Si^s  of  the  Times,  by  Francis  Scurray,  B  D. 

In  the  press.  An  Israelite  Indeed :  or,  a  Tribute  of  SFOipathy^  to 
ihe  Memory  of  a  Beloved  Father ;  with  characteristic  sJcetches  uf  s 
Life  of  unusual  interest.     By  Juhn  Morison,  D.D.  16mo. 

In  the  press.  Sermons  for  Christian  Families,  on  the  moat  import 
tant  Relative  Duties,  by  the  late  Rev.  Edward  Payson^  i)j},  Pastsr 
of  the  second  Church  in  Portland. 


Art.  XL     WORKS  RECENTLY  PUBLISHED. 


M1SCXLLANBOU8. 

Whychcotie  of  St  John*i ;  or  the  Court, 
the  Camp,  the  Quarter  Deck,  and  the 
Cloister.    8  Tola.     ISs. 

A  Letter  to  Thomas  Wilton,  Esq. 
Treasurer  of  the  London  Missionary  So- 
ciety. By  William  Alex.  Hankey,  Esq. 
occasioned  by  the  **  Analysis*'  of  bis  Evi- 
dence on  the  Subject  of  Slavery,  before 
the  Committee  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, contained  in  the  Anti- Slavery  Re^ 
porter.     With  Notes  by  its  Editor.    8vo. 

Ttie  Spirit  of  Sectarianism ;  with  0U> 
fervatioos  on  the  Duty  and  Means  of  de^* 
stroyinff  Prejudice,  and  restoring  the  pri- 
mitive Unity  of  the  Church.   8vo.   Si.  6<i. 

oamrrAL  litxbatvbx. 

The  Mahivansi,  the  R4j&-ratnicari,  and 
the  im&-Vali,  formina;  the  Sacred  and 
Historical  Books  of  (>ylon ;  also  a  Col. 
lection  of  Tracts  illustradve  of  the  Doc- 
trinei  and  Literature  of  Buddhism  ;  trans- 
lated from  the  Singhalese.  Edited  by  Ed- 
wardUpham,  M.R.A.S.  and  F.R.S.,  Author 


or«*tbe  Hiitoryand  DoetriiMs  of  BudiU 
hum,**  •«  the  Hiatoiy  of  the  Ottomea  En. 
pire,**  &c.  &C.     S  vols.     8vo.    2L  2b 

roLmcAL. 

A  Cry  to  Ireland  and  the  Empire.  Bj 
an  Irishman,  formerly  Member  of  tfaie 
Royal  College.  12mo.  Half  cloA  bound. 
4s.  6d. 

TBSOLOOr. 

Scriptural  Researches.  By  the  Right 
Hon.  Sir  George  Henry  Roae^  Bart. 
12mo.     7s.  6d,  bound. 

The  Sinfulness  of  Colonial  SUverv.  A 
Lecture  delivered  at  the  Monthly  Meeting 
of  Congregational  Ministers  add  Churches* 
in  the  Meeting-house  of  Dr.  Pye  Smith, 
Hackney,  on  February  7,  18SS.  By  R^ 
bert  Halley.     Is. 

T&AVBLS. 

North  AmeHea;  a  Moral' an  J  Politicil 
Sketch  By  Aditlle  Murat,  Son  of  the 
late  King  of  Niples*  With  »  Note  on 
Negro  Slavery,  by  Junius  Redivivus. 
1  vol  with  a  Map.     IDs.  6(/. 


TO  OUR  SUBSCRIBERS. 
We  must  cast  ourselves  on  the  lenity  and  kindness  of  our  Subscribers.  The  present 
Number  must  appear  without  the  Index,  &c.,  so  long  unavoidably  delayed.  It  was  found 
iinpossible  to  pass  it  through  the  Press  in  time.  Arrangements  have  been  made,  whkh 
wiU,  it  ia.confidently  hoped,  prevent  the  recurrence  of  similar  irregulantiea.  The  Editor 
b^s  to  acknowledge  the  valuable  contributions  by  which  the  present  Number  is  exiricbedf 
and  to  solicit,  under  the  heavy  pressure  of  his  engagements,  the  help  of  his  corretpondenta 
in  bringing  up  his  arrears. 


THE 


ECLECTIC    REVIEW, 


For  may,  1833. 


Art.  I.    1.    The  Causes  of  the  French  Revolution.    8vo.    pp.  274. 
London.    1832. 

2.  Quarterly  Review,  No.  XCVII.    Art.  Lord  John  Russell  on  the 
Causes  of  the  French  Revolution, 

^''HIS  lively,  amusing,  and  not  uninstnictive  brochure  is  from 
the  pen  of  Lord  John  Russell.     It  has  been  stigmatised  in 
the  Quarterly  Review,  with  that  gentlemanly  and  impartial  feel- 
ing which  characterises  the  pages  of  that  Journal,  as  ^  an  impudent 

*  catchpenny.'  We  believe  that  we  must  call  it  an  indiscretion. 
When  a  cabinet  minister  becomes  an  author,  he  may  expect  to 
find  political  critics,  in  whom  the  rancour  of  party,  if  not  of  per- 
sonal animosity,  shall  be  superinduced  upon  the  spirit  of  detrac- 
tion which  too  much  pervades  modern  criticism.  We  think  that 
the  noble  Writer  should  have  refrained  from  thus  putting  himself 
into  the  power  of  a  clever,  malignant,  unscrupulous,  personal 
adversary.  The  volume  can  add  little  to  his  literary  reputa- 
tion, even  with  those  who  estimate  it  the  most  favourably ;  and 
unless  some  very  obvious  purpose  could  be  answered  by  the  pub- 
lication, we  must  think  that  it  would  have  been  discreet  to  with- 
hold it. 

We  believe  it  is  Lord  John  Russell  himself  who  has  made 
the  remark,  that  '  the  French  Revolution  is  ascribed  to  every 

*  thing,  and  every  thing  is  ascribed  to  the  French  Revolution.' 
Upon  no  subject  has  so  large  a  portion  of  shallow  philoso- 
phizing and  mppant  declamation  been  vented  by  littSrateurSf 
great  and  petty.  What  is  meant  by  '  Causes  of  the  French 
Revolution'*.'*  Are  we  to  understand  by  the  phrase,  the 
causes  which  necessitated  some  revolution  in  France,  or  the 
causes  which  led  to  such  a  revolution,  and  which  determined 
its   character?       The    originating  causes  were   mainly  politi- 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  Y  Y 


362  Causes  of  the  French  RevoltUion. 

cal :  they  are  matter  of  history.  The  govemiDg  causes  were 
moral,  and  these  are  not  so  much  the  matter  of  history  as 
the  key  to  it.     The  real  causes  seem  to  the  Quarterly  Reviewer 

*  very  obvious  ** ;  and  first,  *  the  feeble  character  of  Louis  XVI.' 
Can  any  thing  be  more  absurd  ?  Could  the  feeble  character  of 
Louis  XVI.  have  caused  a  revolution,  if  he  had  not  been  the 
successor  of  Louis  XV.  ?  His  indecision,  his  weakness,  his 
half-measures,  led  to  his  own  ruin,  and  to  the  downfall  of  the 
monarchy,  because  it  rendered  all  timely  compromise  impossible, 
and,  in  the  conflict  of  the  new  opinions  with  the  old,  which  con- 
stituted the  revolution,  prevented  what  Necker  forcibly  styled, 
the  *  august  mediation '  of  the  crown.  The  benign  but  incom- 
petent character  of  Louis  XVI.,  which  precluded  the  efficient 
intervention  of  the  monarch,  may  be  said  to  have  ruined  the 
Revolution,  rather  than  to  have  caused  it.  There  was  a  time  in 
France,  when  the  monarch  was  every  thing.  Although  that  time 
was  past,  ^  there  was  no  period  during  the  whole  first  assembly  \ 
M.  Dumont  remarks,  '  when  the  king,  could  he  have  changed 
^  his  character,  might  not  have  re-established  his  authority,  and 
^  formed  a  mixed  constitution.**  But  would  not  the  formation  oft 
mixed  constitution  have  been  a  revolution,  a  decided  and  a  happy 
one  ?  If  this  is  all  that  the  king  could  have  done,  this  is  but  to 
make  him  the  negative  cause  of  what  was  not  effected.  He 
caused  a  bad  revolution,  merely  by  hindering  a  good  one ;  but  a 
revolution  was  confessedly  inevitable. 

The  Quarterly  Reviewer,  after  having  exhibited  the  feeble 
character  of  Louis  as  the  chief  cause  and  mainspring  of  the 
Revolution,  proceeds  to  express  his  persuasion,  under  the  sanction 
of  M .  Dumont,  ^  that  the  king  might,  if  a  firmer  man,  have 

*  stayed  the  revolution  in  its  course.    We  believe,  in  fact,^  they 
say,  ^  that  there  never  was  a  revolution  which  might  not  have 

*  been  arrested  by  a  proper  policy  on  the  part  of  the  government, 

*  — ^by  a  sufficiently  steady  resistance  or  sufficiently  liberal  con- 

*  cession.'  This  is,  indeed,  oracular  wisdom.  Every  revolution 
might,  it  seems,  have  been  stayed,  if  the  policy  of  the  government 
had  been  just  the  opposite  to  what  it  was  :  if  it  was  the  policy  of 
concession,  it  ought  to  have  been  resistance;  if  that  of  resistance, 
it  ought  to  have  been  concession.  Can  any  thing  be  more  in- 
genious and  satisfactory  ?  In  a  word,  there  never  was  a  revo- 
lution which  might  not  have  issued  differently,  had  the  causes 
been  different  !  But  the  question  before  us  is,  not  whether 
Louis  XVI.  might  have  stayed  the  Revolution,  but  whether  he 
can  be  said,  by  his  feeble  character  or  temporizing  conduct,  to 
have  caused  it.  His  ill-timed  concessions  were  but  the  last  steps 
of  that  fatal  series  of  political  blunders  by  which  the  misguided 
monarch  *  ruined  every  thing.^  At  the  proper  time  he  had  refused 
to  accede  to  the  reasonable  wishes  of  France.    By  nothing  did  he 


Causes  of  the  French  Revolution.  363 

o  much  contribute  to  produce  the  Revolution,  as  by  his  selection 
^his  ministers.  His  choice  of  the  frivolous,  selfish,  and  incom- 
letent  Maurepas,  was  his  own  act.  That  intriguing  courtier 
t>mmenced  the  work  of  disorganization,  which  Necker,  when 
ecalled  too  late,  vainly  attempted  to  remedy,  and  which  Calonne, 
vy  his  desperate  charlatanism,  consummated.* 

In  the  judgement  of  an  acute  witness  of  the  initial  movements 
f  the  Revolution,  who  was  personally  acquainted  with  the  leading 
nembers  of  the  National  Assembly,  the  character  of  the  king 
tad  less  to  do  in  causing  the  overthrow  of  the  monarchy,  than  the 
baracter  of  the  queen.  ^  The  king**,  says  Jefferson,  in  his  auto- 
liographical  memoir,  'now  become  a  passive  machine  in  the  hands 
of  the  National  Assembly,  had  he  been  left;  to  himself,  would 
have  willingly  acquiesced  in  whatever  they  should  devise  as 
best  for  the  nation.  A  wise  constitution  would  have  been 
formed,  hereditary  in  his  line,  himself  placed  at  its  head,  with 
powers  so  large  as  to  enable  him  to  do  all  the  good  of  his  station, 
and  so  limited  as  to  restrain  him  from  its  abuse.  This  he  would 
have  faithfully  administered ;  and  more  than  this,  I  do  not  be- 
lieve he  ever  wished.  But  he  had  a  queen  of  absolute  sway 
over  his  weak  mind  and  timid  virtue,  and  of  a  character  the 
reverse  of  his  in  all  points.  This  angel,  as  gaudily  painted  in 
the  rhapsodies  of  Burke,  with  some  smartness  of  fancy,  but  no 
sound  sense,  was  proud,  disdainful  of  restraint,  indignant  at  all 
obstacles  to  her  will,  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  pleasure,  and  firm 
enough  to  hold  to  her  desires,  or  to  perish  in  the  wreck.  Her 
inordinate  gambling  and  her  dissipations,  with  those  of  the 
Count  d^  Artois,  and  others  of  her  clique^  had  been  a  sensible 
item  in  the  exhaustion  of  the  treasury,  which  called  into  action 
the  reforming  hand  of  the  nation  ;  and  her  opposition  to  it,  her 
inflexible  perverseness,  and  dauntless  spirit,  led  herself  to  the 
guillotine,  drew  the  king  on  with  her,  and  plunged  the  world 
into  crimes  and  calamities  which  will  for  ever  stain  the  pages  of 
modem  history.  I  have  ever  believed,  that  had  there  been  na 
queen,  there  would  have  been  710  revolution.  No  force  would 
have  been  provoked  nor  exercised.  The  king  would  have  gone 
hand  in  hand  with  the  wisdom  of  his  sounder  counsellors,  who, 
guided  by  the  increased  lights  of  the  age,  wished  only,  with  the 
same  pace,  to  advance  the  principles  of  their  social  constitu- 
tion.' f 


*  '  I  repeat/  remarks  Madame  de  Stael>  '  that  no  individual  can  be 
xused  as  the  author  of  the  Hevolution ;  but,  if  an  individual  is  to  be 
imed,  it  is  upon  the  misconduct  of  M.  de  Calonne  that  the  charge 
lUst  be  fixed.' 

t  Jefferson's  Memoirs,  Vol.  I.,  p.  86. 

Y  Y  2 


364  Causes  of  the  French  Revolution. 

Another  of  the  ^  real  causes  ^  of  the  French  Revolution,  tlie 
Quarterly  Reviewer  thinks,  was  the  previous  exertions  of  tlie 
philosophers.  Upon  this  point,  we  shall  transcribe  the  following 
sensible  remarks  from  the  volume  before  us. 

'  It  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  longer  among  the  so-styled  philoto- 
phers.  Lay  aside  their  pretensions^  and  we  shall  see  them  to  be 
merely  a  club  of  authors^  living  in  a  vicious  age^  and  joining  the  sini 
of  a  corrupt  society  to  the  errors^  and  weaknesses^  and  vanities  of  the 
literary  profession.  Yet  all  the  time^  because  they  professed  deism  or 
atheism^  they  femcied  themselves  superior  to  the  just,  and  the  wiie, 
and  the  good.  They  were  swine  running  down  a  precipieey  and 
thought  themselves  eagles  mounting  above  the  clouds. 

'  Much  has  been  said  and  written  of  the  conspiracy  formed  by  the 
philosuphers  to  overturn  religion  and  monarchy.  If  by  conspiracy  is 
meant  a  plan  which  was  to  end  in  action,  it  is  clear,  from  the  private 
correspondence  of  the  leaders,  that  no  conspiracy  of  that  kind  existed. 
But  it  is  equally  clear,  that  the  design  of  changing  the  religious  faith 
of  France  was  digested  into  a  system,  and  carried  on  by  regular  stepi. 
Voltaire  considered  himself,  and  was  duly  acknowledged,  as  the  nh 
triarch  of  the  philosophers ;  and  although  uis  authority  was  scoflTed  at 
by  a  large  number,  on  account  of  his  superstitious  belief  in  the  exist- 
ence of  a  God,  the  two  parties  combined  joined  their  forces  against  the 
national  religion;  and  whatever  their  form  of  doubt  might  be,  all 
agreed  in  rejecting  Christianity.  Voltaire  was  earnest  in  promoting 
the  union.  "  Let  us  march  under  the  same  standard,"  he  wrote  to  the 
Abbe  iMorcllet,  "  without  drum  or  trumpet :  encourage  your  allies, 
and  let  our  treaties  be  secret."  Writing  to  D'Alembert  conoemii^ 
his  Ejcamen  de  Lord  Bolhisbroke,  he  says,  "  Women  and  children  will 
read  this  work,  which  is  sold  cheap.  Tliere  are  now  more  than  thirty 
tracts  which  have  l)ecn  circulated  in  Europe  during  the  two  last  years : 
it  is  impossible  that  in  the  end  this  should  not  produce  some  change 
in  the  administration  of  public  affairs." 

'  It  appimrs  that  these  tracts  were  printed  at  the  expense  of  a  dub 
or  committee  in  Paris ;  that  they  were  furnished  at  a  low  price,  or 
gratis,  to  the  hawkers,  who  sold  them  in  the  country  for  ten  sous  a 
volume.  The  secretary  of  the  club,  Le  Roi,  declared,  in  1789,  that 
these  works  were  all  composed  either  by  members  or  under  the  orders 
of  the  society ;  that  when  brought  to  the  committee  they  were  abridged, 
enlarged,  made  more  discreet  or  more  bold  as  they  thought  fit.  The 
work  then  a])peared  under  a  title  chosen  by  the  society,  and  was  often 
attributed  to  an  author  lately  dead.  '*  When  we  had  approved  of  these 
books,"  continues  the  secretary,  "  we  printed  on  fine  or  ordinary  paper 
a  sufficient  number  to  pay  the  expense  of  printing,  and  afterwaras  an 
immense  number  of  copies  on  the  cheapest  paper :  we  sent  these  last 
to  booksellers  or  hawkers,  who  had  them  for  nothing  or  almost 
nothing ;  but  they  were  enjoined  to  sell  them  to  the  people  at  the 
lowest  price." 

'  It  was  impossible,  as  Voltaire  said,  that  this  practice  should  not 
in  the  end  produce  some  change  in  the  administration  of  public  affairs; 
but  what  that  change  was  to  be,  he  seems  to  have  been  utterly  unable 


Causes  of  the  French  Revolution,  365 

to  foresee.  For  while  he  looked  only  to  the  downfall  of  Christianity, 
Rousseau  on  bis  side  predicted  the  speedy  destruction  of  monarchy : 
the  nation  took  their  lessons  from  both,  and  overthrew  monarchy  as 
well  as  religion. 

'  The  doctrines  of  Diderot  and  Holbach,  although  they  were  never 
adopted  either  by  the  nation  or  by  any  governing  party,  even  in  the 
maadest  moments  of  the  mad  Revolution,  contributed  to  shake  the 
ancient  fabric,  increasing  the  tumult,  distracting  the  attention,  and 
promoting  the  general  confusion.'    pp.  266 — 269. 

Pernicious,  however,  as  was  the  influence  of  the  infidel  writers 
of  France,  we  cannot  regard  it  as,  properly  speaking,  a  direct 
cause  of  the  Revolution,  but  only  as  a  cause  of  its  miscarriage 
and  of  the  excesses  which  attended  it.  There  is  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  any  degree  of  wisdom  or  virtue  on  the  part  of  the 
French  Encyclopedists,  could  have  arrested  the  march  of  events, 
or  have  averted  the  social  conflict.  Had  nol  the  clergy  lost 
their  hold  upon  the  public  mind  by  their  secularity  and  their 
intolerance,  the  influence  of  the  infldel  writers  would  have  been 
inconsiderable.  The  Church  had  herself  created  the  moral 
darkness  which  emboldened  the  birds  of  night  and  the  ravening 
wolves  to  come  forth  from  their  obscene  holes  and  dens ;  for  the 
foul  fiend  Infidelity  always  lurks  in  the  dark  shadow  of  Super- 
stition. We  may  date  from  the  repeal  of  the  edict  of  Nantes, 
which  extinguished  Protestantism  in  France,  the  birth  of  that 
monster  which  was  to  avenge  the  crime.  *  The  last  light  glim- 
'  mered  from  the  cells  of  Port  Royal.'  To  use  the  beautiful 
language  of  Mr.  Hall,  the  Gallican  Church,   ^  amidst  the  silence 

*  and  darkness  she  had  created  around  her,  drew  the  curtains  and 

*  retired  to  rest.     The  accession  of  numbers  she  gained  by  sup- 

*  pressing  her  opponents,  was  like  the  small  extension  of  length 

*  a  body  acquires  by  death :  the  feeble  remains  of  life  were  ex- 
^  tinguished,  and  she  lay  a  putrid  corpse,  a  public  nuisance, 

*  filling  the  air  with  pestilential  exhalations.'  *  In  those  exhala^ 
tions,  the  spawn  of  Atheism  was  gendered. 

The  Quarterly  Reviewer  talks  of  in'eligion  having  become  the 
filishion  among  men  of  talent  in  France,  suppressing  all  reference 
to  the  causes  which  had  brought  up  the  fashion,  as  not  suitable  to 
his  purpose..  The  Encyclopedists,  adds  the  Tory  Writer,  *  had 
'  discovered' that  important  secret, — so  well  known  to  our  own 

*  revolutionary  party  at  this  time,"*  (here  peeps  out  the  sinister 
purpose  of  the  article,)    *  that  one  of    the  best  quarters  from 

*  whence  to  assail  and  overthrow  a  State,  is  through  its  Church 

*  establishment.'*  If  so,  it  must  be  because  a  Church  establish- 
ment is  the  weakest  part  of  a  State.  And  if  it  is  the  weakest 
part,  it  must  cither  be  so  through  original  defect  of  constitution. 


•  Works,  Vol.  IV.  p.  72. 


366  Causes  of  the  French  RewduHon. 

or  must  have  been  rendered  so  by  corruption.  Wben  wm 
ever  an  establishment  overthrown,  that  had  not  first  been  mored 
from  its  only  sure  basis,  the  respect  and  homage  of  the  people? 
The  Church  of  the  people  is  the  bulwark  and  buttress  of  tlv 
State.  Not  so,  the  Feudal  Church,  when  the  reign  of  Feudalin 
is  past.  In  France,  the  Establishment  had  crushed  relij^ 
before  it  became  itself  exposed  to  the  dangers  arising  from  aa 
anti-Christian  conspiracy.  ^  When  Voltaire  appeared/  laji 
Lord  John  Kussell,  '  this  religion  (Christianity)  was  not,  inded, 
^  the  creed  of  the  Regent  and  his  mistresses,  or  of  the  Cardinal 
^  Dubois  and  his  followers ;  but  it  was  the  faith  of  all  that  wai 
^  really  worthy,  high-minded,  and  respectable  in  France/  But 
that  '  air  was  fast  contracting  itself  within  narrower  dimensiom. 
The  religion  of  Fenelon  had  never  been  that  of  the  French 
Church ;  yet,  a  few  such  men  might  have  been  as  the  salt  thit 
should  have  stayed  its  corruption.  No  Fenelons,  no  Massillons, 
no  Bourdaloues,  however,  were  left  to  adorn  and  uphold  that 
tottering  fabric  which  the  first  storms  of  the  Revolution  over* 
threw.  But  then,  says  the  Quarterly  Reviewer,  there  was  *the 
*  kind-hearted  and  only  too  liberal  Bishop  of  Chartres!^  We 
admit  that  liberality  is  the  next  best  thing  to  piety ;  but  it  is  a 
miserable  substitute  for  it. 

The  only  remaining  'efficient  cause ^  mentioned  bv  the  Re- 
viewer, is  the  example  of  the  United  States  of  America.  And 
this  had  certainly  a  more  direct  influence  in  producing  the 
revolution  in  France,  than  either  of  the  other  two,  '  The  old 
French  Government,"  it  is  remarked,  *  in  assisting  the  North 
American  insurgents,  imagined  that  they  should  strike  a  heavy 
blow  against  England.  They  did  so,  but  it  recoiled  still  more 
heavily  against  themselves.  A  vague  idea  of  republican 
equality  spread  among  the  French  officers  on  that  service.  They 
were  most  of  them  young  men,  giddy,  ignorant,  and  enthu- 
siastic. They  did  not  consider  the  diffisrent  situation  of 
America  .  .  .  On  returning  to  France,  these  new  converts  to 
the  democratical  doctrine  did  not,  at  first,  indeed,  carry  these 
views  beyond  abstract  speculation.  But,  by  the  long  and  per- 
severing exertions  of  the  Philosophers,  the  ground  had  been 
already  prepared  for  the  evil  seed,  and  the  progress  of  events 
soon  turned  these  theorists  into  conspirators.'  * 


*  Quart.  Rev.  No.  xcvii.  p.  106.  Lord  John  Russell,  speaking  of 
tlie  state  (»f  literature  and  public  opinion  in  the  reigns  of  liouis  AV. 
and  George  II.,  remarks,  that  'the  eighteenth  century  had  no  pre- 
dominant interest  to  contend  for.  Whether  Maria  Theresa  should 
have  a  province  the  less,  or  (ieorgc  II.  a  colony  the  more,  was  not  a 
question  to  excite  enthusiasm  or  absorb  attention.'    Although  this 


Causes  of  the  French  Revolution.  3IStJ 

Still,  although  the  American  Revolution,  misunderstood^  had 
loubtless  a  powerful  influence  in  kindling  an  enthusiasm  for 
iberty,  and  in  creating  the  strong  bias  towards  republican  institu- 
toD8,  it  was  neither  one  of  the  first  causes  in  order  of  time,  nor 
me  of  the  main  springs  of  the  revolutionary  change  in  society 
hat  was  already  in  progress,  and  of  which  itself  was  but  an 
ndication.  Montesquieu  and  Voltaire  had  preceded  Jefferson 
ind  Paine,  and  the  influence  of  America  upon  France  was  a 
'^-action.  The  Causes  of  the  French  Revolution  illustrated  in 
lie  present  volume,  are  such  as  were  in  operation  before  the 
iccession  of  Louis  XVI.  in  177^  i  (^^^  very  year  in  which  the 
American  revolution  may  be  said  to  have  commenced ;)  the  his- 
Knrical  sketch  being  brought  down  no  further  than  the  death  of 
bis  predecessor.  On  this  account,  the  noble  Author  must  stand 
Bxcused  for  not  having  adverted  to  it  among  the  causes  of  the 
republican  movement  in  France ;  but  his  view  of  those  causes, 
thus  narrowed  to  an  antecedent  period,  must  of  course  be  con- 
udered  as  imperfect  and  defective.  Long  before  republicanism 
had  been  imported  from  America,  however,  it  had  found  a  cham- 
pion and  panegyrist  in  Montesquieu,  whom  Lord  John  character- 
lies  as  the  writer  *  who  threw  the  first  stone  at  the  monarchy  of 
France.'     Anti-monarchical  principles  had  also  found   a  royal 

Eatron  in  Frederick  II.,  in  whose  reign  Berlin  became  to  the 
terary  men  of  France,  what  Versailles  had  been  in  the  age  of 
Louis  Quartorze ;  and  to  his  example  and  encouragement,  the 
Quarterly  Reviewer  thinks,  we  may  certainly  ascribe  no  small 
share  of  the  fatal  success  of  the  soi-disant  philosophers.  How 
ridiculous,  then,  is  it  to  speak  of  a  mere  link  in  the  chain  of 
events,  as  originating  all  that  ensued  !  Europe  had  long  exhibited 
at  various  points,  indications  of  that  moral  commotion  which  was 
at  work  beneath  the  surface,  and  which  modified,  but  not  caused, 
by  the  different  circumstances  of  the  social  system,  was  in 
America  merely  an  earthquake,  in  France  a  volcano. 

Among  *  the  concurring  causes  "*  of  the  Revolution,  the  Quar- 
terly Reviewer  admits,  was  '  the  disorder  in  the  finances,  to  which 

•  almost  every  popular  convulsion  may  in  some  degree  be  traced.' 
The  keen  remark  is  cited  from  Rousseau,  that  *  the  people  are 

•  never  alive  to  any  attempt  upon  their  liberty,  except  when  it  is 

•  an  attempt  upon  their  pockets.'  *  '  But  this,'  adds  the  Writer, 
'  can  only  be  looked  upon  as  the  spark  which  fired  the  train. 

sentence  so  obviously  limits  the  Author  s  remark  to  the  first  half  of 
the  century,  the  Quarterly  Reviewer  sneers  at  '  the  philosophical 
historian/  for  forgetting  '  that  the  American  war  of  independence  and 
the  Revolution  of  France,  were  the  produce  of  that  century.'  A  fine 
specimen  this  of  critical  fairness  and  acumen. 

♦  *  Dans  tout  pays,  le  peuple  ne  s^apercoit  qtCon  attente  h  sa  liberty, 
que  lorsqu'on  aiiente  ^  sa  bourse.' 


368  Causes  of  the  French  Revoluiion. 

*  The  more  closely  we  examine  the  historical  records  of  thos 
'  times,  the  more  evident  it  becomes  to  us,  that  the  Frenc 
^  Revolution  was  mainly  owing,  not  to  the  distress  suffered  h 
^  the  people,  but  to  the  false  doctrines  spread  among  them.*  Bi 
what  occasioned  the  success  of  those  doctrines  ?  Strange,  thi 
the  immediate  cause  of  an  explosion  should  be  regarded  as  onl 
a  concurring  cause !  The  disorder  in  the  finances  unquestionaU 
broke  down  the  power  of  the  monarchy ;  but  the  popular  distrea 
which  was  a  terrible  clement  of  the  general  confusion,  was  aggn 
vated  by  other  circumstances.  The  continued  scarcity  of  hrei 
amid  an  abundance  of  com,  in  the  capital,  during  the  first  mond 
of  the  Revolution,  is  ascribed  by  Jefferson,  who  was  then  residiii 
at  Paris,  to  the  mismanagement  of  the  municipality ;  and  thi 
undoubtedly  was  a  powerftil  cause  of  discontent.  In  descrifaiii 
the  four  distinct  parties  which  divided  the  Assembly,  the  Ahm 
rican  minister  characterizes  the  faction  of  Orleans  as  compose 
of  only  the  Catilines  of  the  Assembly  and  some  of  the  Iowa 
descriptions  of  the  mob,  and  that  mob  as  ^  a  class  which  ran 

*  accept  its  bread  from  him  who  will  give  it.**  M.  Mignet,  i 
his  spirited  "  History  of  the  French  Revolution,'*  +  describes  tl 
events  connected  with  the  storming  of  the  Bastille  in  July  I7BS 
as  the  insurrection  of  the  middle  class  of  society  against  the  p 
vilcged  orders;  while  the  assault  of  the  Tuileries,  with  tli 
massacre  of  the  Swiss  on  the  10th  of  August,  1792,  he  considei 
as  the  insurgency  of  the  multitude  against  the  middle  class.  Tl 
Revolution  was,  in  fact,  a  series  of  convulsions,  produced  b 
agencies  coming  into  successive  operation,  and  crossing  the  or 
ginal  movement,  which  had  not  been  calculated  upon  by  tli 
primary  actors.  Could  those  agencies  have  been  excluded,  a 
might  have  been  well.  The  movement,  violent  as  it  was,  wool 
not  have  been  anarchical,  had  the  machinery  of  the  state  main 
taincd  its  integrity; — had  the  monarchy,  by  which  the  whol 
cohered,  been  preserved.  But  when  this  controlling  principl 
was  abstracted,  the  whole  machine  ran  down  with  acceleratiD] 
violence,  and  those  who  in  vain  attempted  to  arrest  the  unei 
pcctcd  consequences  of  their  rashness,  were  entangled  in  tb 
wheels. 

The  Causes  of  the  French  Revolution,  then,  were,  first,  thoe 
antecedent  circumstances  which  rendered  some  reformation  nc 
only  necessary,  but  inevitable ;  secondly,  those  which  supplie 
the  immediate  impetus,  and  occasioned  the  activity  of  those  pw 
disposing  causes ;  and  thirdly,  those  which  governed  the  move 
ment,  and  determined  the  character  and  issue  o{  the  awful  an 
abortive  political  experiment. 


*  Jefferson's  Memoirs,  Vol.  III.  p.  40. 

t  Sec  Ec.  Rev.  2d  Scries,  Vol.  XXVI.  p.  231. 


Causes  of  the  French  Resolution.  369 

With  regard  to  the  predisposing  causes,  if  they  have  been 
fMnrrectly  defined  as  the  conflict  of  the  new  opinions  with  the  old, 
we  must  carry  back  our  inquiry  higher  than  the  days  of  Montes- 
quieu, in  order  to  obtain  a  just  view  of  the  rise  and  progress  of 
tnat  conflict,  which  had  been  going  forward  ever  since  the 
Reformation.  In  reference  to  this  point,  we  are  tempted  to 
introduce  the  sagacious  remarks  of  a  French  writer  of  dis- 
tinguished ability,  M.  Aug.  le  Comte,  which,  though  somewhat 
disfigured  and  obscured  by  a  technical  phraseology,  contain  much 
that  is  deserving  of  attention. 

*  The  numerous  and  prolonged  efforts  made  by  nations  and  by  mo- 
aarchs,  to  re-organize  society^  prove  that  the  need  of  this  re-organiza- 
tion 18  universally  felt.  But  it  has  been  only  attempted^  on  either 
hand,  in  a  vague  and  imperfect  manner.  These  two  species  of 
attempts,  (national  or  popular  and  monarchical^)  though  opposed,  are 
usually  prejudicial  in  their  different  bearings.  They  hitherto  never 
have  nad,  and  they  never  can  have>  any  truly  constructive  result 
(rittdtai  organique).  Far  from  tending  to  terminate  the  crisis,  they 
only  contribute  to  prolong  it.  Such  is  the  true  cause  which,  in  spite 
cf  80  many  efforts,  while  it  retains  society  in  the  critical  direction 
(direction  critique),  leaves  it  a  prey  to  revolution.  To  establish  this 
tundamental  assertion,  it  will  be  sumcient  to  cast  a  general  glance  over 
the  attempts  at  re-organization  which  have  been  made  by  kings  and 
by  nations. 

'  The  error  committed  by  monarchs  is  the  most  easy  of  detection. 
Their  idea  of  re-organization  is,  the  pure  and  simple  re-establishment 
the  feudal  and  hierarchal  system  (i.  e.  Church  and  State  system)  in 
1(8  fiill  power.  There  is  not,  in  their  opinion,  any  other  way  to  subdue 
the  anarchy  which  results  from  the  downfall  of  this  system.  There 
would  be  httle  philosophy  in  considering  this  opinion  as  principally 
dictated  by  the  private  interests  of  Governors.  However  chimerical, 
it  is  one  which  naturally  presents  itself  to  minds  which  sincerely  seek 
a  remedy  for  the  actual  crisis,  and  feel  in  all  its  extent  the  need  of  a 
re-organization,  but  which  have  not  considered  the  general  march  of 
civilization,  and,  viewing  the  present  state  of  affairs  under  only  one 
aspect,  have  not  perceived  the  tendency  of  society  towards  the  esta- 
blishment of  a  new  system,  more  perfect  and  not  less  consistent  than 
the  old  one.  In  a  word,  it  is  natural  that  this  should  be  the  view  of 
things  taken  by  rulers ;  for,  from  the  position  which  they  occupy,  they 
must  necessarily  see  more  clearly  the  anarchical  state  of  society,  and^ 
in  consequence,  be  more  forcibly  impressed  with  the  necessity  of  its 
being  remedied. 

'  This  is  not  the  place  to  insist  on  the  manifest  absurdity  of  such  an 
opinion :  it  is  now  universally  recognized  by  the  mass  of  enlightened 
men.  Monarchs,  without  doubt,  in  seeking  to  restore  the  ancient 
system,  do  not  comprehend  the  nature  of  the  actual  crisis,  and  are  far 
from  having  estimated  the  whole  extent  of  their  enterprise.  The 
fiedl  of  the  feudal  and  sacerdotal  system  is  not,  as  they  imagine, 
owing  to  recent  causes,  which   are  isolated  and  in  some  measure 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  z  z 


370  Causes  of  the  French  Ret^aluHort. 


liccidental.  Instead  of  being  the  effect  of  the  crisis^  it  is;  inxetEtf, 
its  cause.  The  downfall  of  the  system  has  been  effected  by  inrwi 
continued  through  preceding  ages,  by  a  chain  of  modificationsy  inde^ 
pendent  of  all  human  Tolition,  in  which  all  classes  of  society  hiff 
concurred,  and  of  which  monarchs  themselves  hare  ofiten  been  tht 
primary  agents  or  the  most  ardent  promoters.  It  has  been^  in  a  word, 
the  necessary  consequence  of  the  march  of  Civilization. 

^  It  would  not>  then,  be  sufficient,  in  order  to  re-establish  the  andent 
system,  that  society  should  retrograde  as  ftir  as  to  the  epoch  of  the 
commencement  of  the  general  crisis.  For,  supposing  that  we  could 
arrive  at  it,  which  is  absolutely  impossible,  we  should  only  have 
replaced  the  social  body  in  the  situation  which  necessitated  that  crisis. 
It  would  be  necessary,  in  retracing  the  past  ages,  to  repair  sacoessively 
all  the  losses  which  the  ancient  system  has  sustained  during  six  oen* 
turies,  and  in  relation  to  which,  what  the  last  thirty  years  have  ab- 
ducted from  it,  is  of  no  importance.  The  only  methoa  of  attaioiiig 
their  object,  would  be,  to  annihilate,  one  by  one,  all  the  developmentl 

of  civilization  which  have  caused  those  losses. 

•  •••••• 

'  Thus  monarchs,  at  the  very  time  that  they  are  planning  the  re* 
construction  of  the  church  and  state  system,  involve  themaelves  in 
perpetual  contradictions,  in  contributing  by  their  own  acts,  rather  to 
render  more  complete  the  disorganization  of  this  system,  or  to  acoelenite 
the  formation  of  that  which  must  replace  it.  Numerous  instances  of 
this  &ct,  present  themselves  to  the  observer.  To  notice  only  what  is 
most  remarkable,  we  see,  that  monarchs  deem  it  an  honour  to  en- 
courage the  cultivation  and  diffusion  of  the  sciences  and  the  fine 
arts,  and  to  excite  the  development  of  industry.  We  see  them,  ta 
this  end,  institute  numerous  useful  establishments;  a  circnimtance 
which,  while  ultimately  relating  to  the  progress  of  science^  of  the  line 
arts,  and  of  industry,  must  be  regarded  as  tending  to  the  downfall  of 
the  ancient  system. 

*  Thus,  again,  by  the  treaty  of  the  Holy  Alliance,  the  Sovereigns 
have  degraded,  as  far  as  they  were  able,  the  Sacerdotal  Power,  the 
principal  basis  of  the  ancient  system,  by  forming  a  supreme  European 
council  in  which  that  power  had  not  even  a  consulting  voice.  •  •  • 

'  This  radical  inconsistency  illustrates  in  the  most  striking  manner 
the  absurdity  of  a  plan  which  those  who  pursue  it  with  the  greatest 
ardour  do  not  themselves  comprehend.  It  clearly  shews,  how  complete 
and  irrevocable  is  the  ruin  of  the  ancient  system. 

*  The  manner  in  which  the  people  have  hitherto  attempted  the 
re -organization  of  society  is,  though  in  another  way,  not  less  prejudicial, 
than  that  adopted  by  sovereigns.  This  error  is,  however,  more  excusable, 
because  they  perplex  themselves  in  search  of  the  new  system  towards 
which  the  march  of  civilization  is  leading  them,  but  the  nature  of 
which  has  not  yet  been  determined  with  sufficient  clearness :  whereas 
the  sovereigns  are  prosecuting  an  enterprise,  the  absurdity  of  which, 
the  slightest  attention  to  the  past  abundantly  demonstrates.  In  a 
word,  the  monarchs  are  opposed  to  facts,  and  the  people  to  principles, 
which  it  is  ah\'ays  more  difficult  to  avoid  losing  sight  of.  But  this 
error  of  the  people,  it  is  of  much  more  importance  to  eradicate,  than 


t  .  Causes  of  the  French  Revolution.  3^ 

I  tfttt^'^^  which  monarchs  fall ;  since  it  alone  forms  an  essential  ob- 

l.  litiMde  to  the  march  of  civilization. 

f    ^,  '*  The  predominant  notion  in  the  popular  mind  as  to  the  manner  in 

;  irluch  Society  ought  to  be  organized^  has  for  its  characteristic  feature^ 
-A  profound  ignorance  of  the  fundamental  conditions  upon  which  the 
•ocial  system  ought  to  rest  in  order  to  its  true  stability.  People  have 
been  led  to  mistake  for  organic  principles^  those  which  have  served 
to  subvert  the  feudal  and  hierarchal  system ;  or^  in  other  words^  to 
tftke  the  mere  modifications  of  this  system  for  the  basis  of  that  which 
.it  18  sought  to  establish.' 

.  That  the  genius  of  the  present  afj^e  is  more  analytical  than  con- 
Mroctiye,  more  critical  than  scientific,  more  acute  in  detecting 
fidlacdesy  than  comprehensive  of  truths,  must,  we  think,  be  ad- 
mitted. Happily,  howeyer,  in  our  own  country,  the  practical 
80  predominates  over  the  speculative  iii  the  national  character, 
that  there  is  small  danger  of  proceeding  too  fast  in  the  work  of 
^  re-organi£ation.^  Our  legislation  still  halts  a  little  behind  the 
inarch  of  society,  and  follows,  rather  than  anticipates  the  Great 
Innovator.  This  is  as  it  should  be.  If,,  again,  few  of  our 
lawyers  are  jurists,  still  fewer  are  theorists ;  and  those  who  are 
ignorant  of  principles,  retain  a  conservative  reverence  for  pre- 
cedents* If  few  of  our  politicians  are  statesmen,  at  least  they  do 
not  set  up  for  philosophers.  The  boldest  projects  of  innovation 
snd  reform  that  are  brought  forward,  the  most  exceptionable  or 
dangerous,  have  still  nothing  of  a  visionary  character.     It  is  not 

S'  a  parade  of  general  principles  that  it  is  sought  to  recommend 
em  to  adoption,  but  by  the  promise  of  beneBcial  results.  The 
greatest  changes  that  the  present  generation  has  witnessed,  have 
been  slowly  produced  and  tardily  recognized ;  and  reform  has  been 
but  an  accommodation  of  the  law  to  the  fact.  In  short,  in  this 
country,  the  old  and  the  new  opinions  seem  to  blend  and  mutually 
re-act,  rather  than  to  come  into  conflict ;  and  re-oreanization  pro- 
ceeds, as  in  the  operations  of  nature,  so  as  only  to  Keep  pace  with 
the  perpetual  changes  of  absorption  and  decay. 

Among  the  causes  of  the  French  Revolution,  it  is  strange 
that  so  much  stress  should  be  laid  upon  the  character  of  the 
king,  and  so  little  on  the  national  character.  It  is  not  a  mere 
truism,  that  the  French  Revolution  could  have  occurred  only 
in  France,  and  in  France  as  it  was.  That  such  a  revolution 
could  not  have  taken  place  in  England,  is  proved  by  the  different 
character  of  what  our  Tory  writers  are  fond  of  calling  the  Great 
Rebellion  under  the  first  Charies,  in  which  the  apparent  simi- 
larity of  the  principal  events  serves  but  to  make  more  conspi- 
cuous the  moral  contrast.  It  has  been  justly  remarked  by  an 
acute  observer  of  human  nature,  that  *  a  period  of  insurrection 

*  deserves  peculiar  study,  as  the  true  touchstone  of  national  cha- 

*  racter, — the  season  when  all  the  qualities  of  men  may  be  the 


372  Causes  of  the  French  RewdiUiofu 

*  most  fairly  judged.  It  is  the  interr^um  of  law  and  the  m- 
^  turnalia  of  passion.''  *  In  England,  nowever,  during  the  soi- 
pension  of  the  power  of  the  executive,  there  was  scarcdy  an  in- 
terregnum of  law ;  for  that  which  George  Withers  describes  ai 

^  —  a  yet  augoster  thing, 
Veiled  though  it  be^  than  Parliament  or  King,' 

still  maintained  its  supremacy  in  the  public  mind.  '  Independ- 
ently of  the  murder  of  the  king,^  remarks  Mr.  Chevenix,  'n» 
very  great  crimes  stained  this  Revolution.     It  was  not  aooom- 

Eanied  by  any  such  atrocious  measures  as  occurred  in  ibe  po- 
tical  disturbances  of  other  countries.  Although  Cromwri> 
himself  was  a  profound  dissembler,  no  g^at  act  of  national 
perfidy  had  taken  place.  Religion  was  not  rooted  out  of  the 
hearts  of  the  people,  to  make  room  for  impiety ;  and  fiinaticisn, 
not  atheism,  caused  the  abuses  of  the  time ;  still  leaving  a  hope 
that,  when  the  frenzy  was  calmed,  the  name  of  God  might  be 
again  respected.  Morality,  instead  of  being  openly  rdaaed, 
affected  austerity  ;  and  they  who  despised  it,  were  compelled  to 
use  hypocrisy.  In  short,  none  of  tne  tremendous  vices  which 
threaten  the  very  foundations  of  society,  broke  out  amonff  the 
people,  to  destroy  the  hope  of  ever  re-establishing  good  order.^ 
Apart  from  the  merits  of  the  quarrel,  in  no  stage  of  its  histoit 
does  the  English  nation  present  a  grander  attitude,  or  exhibit 
more  the  character  of  moral  energy,  than  during  the  long  contest 
between  the  Parliament  and  the  King.  It  is  a  period  which  ne 
Englishman  needs  blush  to  remember ;  and  he  must  cease  to  feel 
as  an  Englishman,  before  he  can  lose  his  sympathy  with  Hamp- 
den, and  Pym,  and  Hutchinson,  his  veneration  for  Milton  and  Sd- 
den,  Owen  and  Baxter ;  while  of  Cromwell  himself,  it  must  be 
said,  that  even  if  his  sincere  patriotism  be  doubted,  he  was  die 
most  blameless  of  usurpers.  The  occasion  of  the  revolution  was 
no  idle  pretext ;  it  was  real  and  substantial,  and  the  cause  of  die 
Parliament  was  at  least  in  its  origin  a  just  one.  It  was  after  a 
long  and  intelligent  struggle  for  civil  liberty,  and  in  consequence 
of  a  sudden  check  being  given  to  its  progress,  that  the  insurrec- 
tion broke  out.  The  nation  had  gradually  been  becoming  not 
only  more  determined  upon  obtaining  its  rights,  but  more  capable 
and  more  worthy  of  freedom.  In  every  respect,  the  state  of 
France  before  the  Revolution  exhibits  an  entire  contrast.  Its 
pretexts,  as  Mr.  Chenevix  remarks,  were  wholly  different  from  its 
causes.     ^  The  cause,''  he  adds,  ^  was  simply  this,  the  moral  state 

*  of  the  entire  nation.     France  had  long  been  undergoing  a  pro- 


*  Chcuevix  on  National  Character,  Vol.  I.  p.  315. 
t  Ihid.  Vol.  I.  p.  331. 


Causes  of  the  French  Revolution.  3fJ3 

'*  cess  of  corruption  in  all  its  parts,  and  had  become  unfit  even 
^  for  the  government  which  it  possessed  in  1788.^*  The  contrast 
'between  the  two  revolutions  is  pursued  in  some  subsequent  para- 
:gniphs,  which  we  cannot  refrain  from  transcribing. 

'  The  French  revolution  began  by  the  most  atrocious  crimes ;  but 
those  crimes  were  not  new ;  and  they  were  accompanied  by  all  the 
minutias  of  horror  which  had  characterized  them  in  every  period. 
There  is  not  a  single  act  of  blood  or  treachery^  not  a  single  day  of 
massacre  or  outrage^  but  has  its  melancholy  precedent^  often  repeated^ 
in  the  former  history  of  France.  The  language,  indeed,  was  changed  ; 
and  an  unusual  term,  liberty,  was  introduced,  to  be  the  excuse  for  all. 
Old  crimes  were  committed  under  new  names  and  new  pretences,  to 
make  the  world  suppose  them  virtues; — a  species  of  hypocrisy  not 
jdemanded  by  the  nation  itself,  but  practised  in  deference  to  those  who 
lieard  of  them  from  afar. 

'  Nothing  can  be  more  ^se  than  to  assert,  that  the  revolution  was 
onclertaken  in  the  cause  of  freedom.  The  whole  system  of  reform  was 
m  aeries  of  untruth  and  cunning,  and  all  was  earned  on  by  treachery. 
The  nearest  ties  of  blood  or  friendship  were  allowed  no  confidence. 
Servants  were  bribed  to  betray  their  mastera;  and  in  every  province, 
men  and  women  were  brought  to  the  scaffold  by  fathers,  friends,  or 
brothers.  The  most  eloquent  apostle  of  French  revolutionary  liberty 
exclaimed,  in  his  fervour :  "  Delation,  a  shame  and  a  vice  in  despotic 
"^  states,  is  a  virtue  among  free  men."  And  the  principle  was  conse- 
crated by  the  holiest  practice. 

'  But  the  cruelty  of  this  revolution  surpassed  even  its  perfidy.  The 
number  of  persons  massacred,  not  in  Imttle,  during  the  reign  of  the 
best  assembly,  the  Constituent,  was  3,7^3,  or  nearly  Sve  per  day  during 
about  two  years.  The  legislative  body  had  the  effrontery  to  counte- 
nance these  massacres ;  and  JVIirabeau  declared,  that  Liberty  was  a 
prostitute  .who  delighted  to  revel  among  heaps  of  carcases.  These 
•were  the  virtuous  days  of  French  regeneration.  The  second  assembly 
flat  about  355  days,  and  encouraged  the  perpetration  of  8044  massa- 
cres, or  about  twenty-five  per  dav.  The  Convention  lasted  about 
three  years,  and  at  its  instigation  1,026,606  massacres  were  committed, 
making  about  1000  per  day.  But,  besides  this,  800,000  perished  in 
civil  war,  20,000  by  fiunine,  and  3,400  women  died  in  premature 
diild-birth,  brought  on  by  terror.  The  destruction  of  property  was 
everywhere  in  the  like  proportion.  After  the  reign  of  the  Convention, 
.cruelty  began  to  yield  its  place  to  cunning,  and  the  most  perfidious  of 
^governments  succeeded  to  the  most  sanguinary  .... 

'The  manner  in  which  the  English  and  the  French  conducted 
themselves  towards  their  sovereigns,  though  both  events  terminated  in 
death,  is  characteristic.  The  provocation  which  the  former  had  borne 
was  ffreat,  and  it  was  wonderful  that  the  father  did  not  suffer  in  the 
.stead  of  the  son.  The  demands  of  the  English,  just  and  reasonable  as 
they  were,  had  been  constantly  refused ;  and  whenever  any  point  was 


♦  Chenevix,  Vol.  I.  p.  336. 
VOL.  IX. — N.s.  3  A 


Sfjt  Causes  of  the  French  Reeohdhm. 

gained,  ft  was  withdrawn  again  as  aoon  as  possible.  Charles  bad  even 
waged  war  upon  the  Parliament  that  murdered  him,  and  no  man  relied 
upon  his  word.  But  Louis  XVI.  was  sincere  end  gentle>  opright  in 
his  intentions^  had  not  violated  anj  promise,  and  siaoerely  desired  s 
true  reform.  He  complied  with  every  wish  of  his  subjects^  however 
unreasonable ;  and  the  only  reproach  which  can  be  made  to  him  is  his 
weakness.  When  pushed  to  extremities,  he  did,  indeed,  attempt  to 
save  himself  and  mmily  bv  flight ;  but  the  French  were  not  wise  or 
generous  enough  to  allow  him  to  escape.  The  Enelish  bove  the  mis> 
conduct  of  the  Stuarts  for  near  half  a  century,  whfle  the  gentleness  of 
Louis  could  not  preserve  him  one-tenth  part  of  the  time  from  the 
scaffold. 

'  Charles  was  ill  treated  during  his  captivity,  and  his  death  ins 
ignominious ;  but  the  sufferings  of  Louis  were  inmiitely  more  agonisiiig. 
Given  in  charge  to  the  lowest  of  wretches,  he  was  oonmellea  to  ben 
their  insults,  as  well  to  himself  as  to  his  wife,  his  children,  imd  hii 
sister :  and  his  keepers  spared  him  no  afltiction  which  oould  render 
his  situation  more  bitter. 

'  XVlien  Charles  was  dead,  the  malice  of  the  British  was  appeased. 
When  the  French  king  was  no  more,  his  femily  was  persecuted ;  hit 
wife,  his  son,  his  sister,  three  princes  of  his  blood,  were  mnrdered, 
and  the  rest  were  pursued  by  imprecations.  But  it  may  be  said,  the 
English  monarch  nad  the  precaution  to  send  his  &nily  oat  of  the 
kingdom.  He  did  so,  and  how  ^vas  his  queen,  Henrietta,  the  daughter 
of  uie  most  beloved  monarch  whom  that  nation  ever  knew — of  Henri 
IV. — treated  by  her  own  nearest  royal  relations,  in  her  own  oountrr  ? 
The  French  monarch  was  a  better  man  than  the  British,  and  for  this 
reason  the  murder  of  Louis  XVI.  is  less  excusable. 

'  Anotlicr  cliaracteristic  which  distinguishes  the  two  rerohitions,  is^ 
the  fate  of  religion.  Ever  since  the  time  of  Wickliffe,  the  tendoicj 
in  England  was  to  simplify  the  forms  of  worship,  even  more  than  wis 
consonant  with  a  monarchical  government.  8ncn  a  system  nmst  lead 
to  atheism,  if  not  sincere ; — to  enthusiasm,  if  the  heart  be  really  Strang 
enough  to  maintain  its  belief  by  spiritual  feeling  alone.  FortnnatelT 
the  latter  prevailed ;  and  though,  no  doubt,  many  may  have  perverted 
the  practice,  the  principle  which  became  prevalent  was  refagiona  ex- 
aggeration. Even  admitting  an  assertion  which  is  not  true,  that 
enthusiasm  is  capable  of  producing  as  much  evil  as  irreligion,  still,  the 
effects  which  each  leaves  oehind  are  completely  opposite.  Fanaticism 
is  a  fever,  but  atheism  is  death.  From  the  one,  men  may  recorer: 
from  the  other,  they  cannot.  Irreligion  leaves  no  limit  to  vice  ;  while 
enthusiasm,  not  daring  to  commit  any  act  but  in  the  name  of  dcrotiaa, 
has  a  boundary  which  it  must  not  pass.  It  was  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  that  Cromwell  condemned  his  sovereign  to  the  block ;  bnt  he 
never  could  have  used  such  pretexts  coolly  to  murder  one  tiionsand 
persons  per  day  during  one  thousand  days.  Nothing  but  atheism 
could,  in  the  present  age,  have  tolerated  such  scenes  of  blood  as  were 
hourly  committed  in  France.'     Chencvix,     Vol.  I.  pp.  390—343.  • 

*  See,  for  a  review  of  this  work.  Eel.  Rev.  vol.  vii.  (3d  Series),  p. 
324.     We  deem  it  unnecessary,  in  using  the  above  paragraphs  for  our 


Cmme9  of  the  Fr^u^  RevokUimiM  9JS 

^  It  would  be  ma  injustice,^  thia  intelligent  Writer  subseqciently 
wanuxksy  '  to  tifae  memory  of  the  worst  abettor  of  Cromwell,  to 
^  oora]iave  him  to  the  least  atrocious  member  of  the  Conventioii.'* 
It  would  be  not  merely  injustice,  but  imbecility,  to  compare  the 
characters  of  Hampden  and  Mirabeau,  Fairfax  and  Robespierre, 
Cromwdi  and  Bonaparte.     Mirabeau,  in  particular,  *  the  genius 

*  of  disoiiganintioa,^  the  Catiline  of  the  ReYolution,  was  such  a 
{KTsonification  of  all  the  vices  of  the  social  system  out  of  whidi 
lie  rote,  as  France  alone  could  have  given  birth  to.  In  no  other 
country  could  Mirabeau  have  been  Mirabeau,  or  Robeq)ierre 
&obeqnerre. 

As  a  ftirtfaer  proof  that  such  a  Revolution  as  the  French  could 
net  hare  taken  place  in  England,  we  might  advert  to  the  happy 
wad  almost  bloodless  revolution  of  1688;  nay,  to  the  American 
Revolution  itself,  which  might  equidly  be  cited  as  a  noble  illus- 
tration of  the  English  national  character, — the  character  produced 
bv  the  laws,  the  liberties,  and  the  religion  of  England,  and  by 
toe  national  habit  of  deference  to  those  mutually  conservative 
elements  of  her  government  and  polity.  But,  if  neither  in  the 
seventeenth  nor  in  the  eighteoith  century,  such  a  Revolution 
<oould  by  possibility  have  occurred  in  this  country ;  the  notion 
that  sudi  a  catastrophe  is  now  to  be  apprehended  as  the  result  of 
popular  concessions,  the  ultimate  consequence  of  reform  in  church 
and  state,  is  surely  as  absurd  as  ever  haunted  a  mind  not 
deprived  of  sanity.  Yet,  the  French  Revolution  is  still  held  up 
by  certain  writers  as  a  bug-bear ;  and  the  Quarterly  Reviewer 
would  fain  have  us  look  upon  Lord  Althorp  as  the  Turgot  (who 
will  be  the  Calonne  ?)  of  *  the  revolution  now  in  progress  here.' 

*  We,  let  it  be  observed,^  is  their  oracular  language,  ^  are  but 

*  now  in  the  second  month  of  our  States  General :  we  are  ap- 
'  proaching  the  Night  of  Sacrifices,  and  by  just  the  same  steps 

*  which  the  French  trod  before  us.""  There  can  be  no  delusion 
in  this  assertion :  it  is  pure  audacity. 

We  should  deem  it  an  insult  to  the  understandings  of  oar 
readers  to  enter  into  a  grave  refutation  of  this  absurd  comparison. 
But  we  are  tempted  to  pursue  the  contrast  between  the  two  coun- 
tries a  little  further,  in  reference  to  the  actual  condition,  moral 
and  political,  of  the  French  people  in  the  reign  of  Louis  XVI., 
and  of  the  English  in  that  of  William  IV. 

The  state  of  France  previous  to  the  first  movements  of  the 
revolutionary  spirit,  is  thus  forcibly  described  by  the  writer  in  the 
Quarterly.      *  Exhausted  with   civil  strife  and  bloodshed,   the 


present  purpose^  to  advert  to  those  points  of  opinion  or  religions  sen- 
timent upon  which  our  own  views  differ  from  those  of  the  learned 
Author. 

3a2 


-  .  ■  •   t    •  < 


«I76  Cause$  of  the  French  Bevoimiiom, 

*  peo[#ie  gladly  icmgfat  repose  under  the  quiet  shade  tti 

*  Fur  from  dreaming  of  resistanoe,  the  leaden  of  die  pnhtie  umid 

*  nerer  even  dream«l  of  murmurs.''  This  repose  of  ezhanstioD, 
tbiw  ominous  passiyeness,  b  the  very  state  of  feeling  which  niriil 
lie  crxj>ccted  to  precede  and  forebode  a  frightfid  dBsplay  of  popolsr 
violence,  when  the  tiger  should  be  waked  from  his  dniDber.  The 
gimeral  condition  of  the  people  has  been  described  as  a  state  of  fesr, 
suspicion,  and  wretchedness.  If  that  wretdiedness  was  not  pro- 
grcHifive,  (for  between  the  beginning  of  the  century  and  the 
acccMfion  of  I^uis  XVI.,  the  social  condition  of  the  peopkin 
some  i)artH  of  J'Vancc  appears  to  have  improved,)  they  were  made 
but  tiie  more  sensible  of  the  fiscal  burdens  and  ariatocradcsl 
opprcMsion  under  which  they  groaned.  Lord  John  Russell  thus 
sumH  up  IiiH  account  of  the  state  of  the  kingdom,  which  cannot 
be  cliarged  with  exaggeration. 

'  A  nobility,  dinfigurcd  by  every  vice,  and  possessing  scarcely  any 
virtiK*  but  ccHirui^cs  were  privileged  to  insult  and  maltreat  the  people, 
whcNM*  btirdeiiH  tncy  did  not  sbare.  The  tribunals-were  filled  wi&i  per- 
MiiiN  wh»  lM>ught  tiie  |N>wcr  of  administering  justice,  and  very  genersllj 
Mild  it  to  the  clients  who  appeared  at  their  bar.  The  most  oatrsgeons 
violiiticHm  of  all  the  rules  ot  equity,  the  most  barbarous  methods  of  in^ 
(piiry  luid  of  ]>uui«hment,  were  revered  and  hallowed  by  the  govsnw 
nietit  UN  U)f  eHtubliKhed  forms  of  law.  A  small  portion  of  the  nation, 
divided  fnuu  tha  rest,  oiijoyed  all  the  patronage  of  the  courts  held  the 
i^oninmnd  t»f  armies  aud  the  richest  benefices  in  the  chnrdi,  and  were 
mddoni  puniidieil  for  any  crime  they  committed.  At  the  same  time, 
tiieir  exenuttion  from  taxes  did  not  prevent  them  from  involving  them* 
M'lveM  in  tlolit :  and  they  exhibited  to  their  countrymen  the  want  of 
prinoiplo  which  i8  the  caiise*  the  recklessness  which  is  the  oompanioo, 
and  the  ondmmuwmcnt  and  poverty  which  are  the  consequences,  of 
viiv.  On  the  other  hand,  the  people  were  rendered  thoroughly  wretdi« 
eil  by  tlie  r««xiition!i  to  which  tliey  were  subject  finom  the  government 
and  their  UntUonU  Their  misen*  proceeded  from  the  arbitraiy  natore 
of  ever)  ]Hk\\er  in  the  state :  the  taxes  were  arbitrary  |  the  administia- 


their  fnUitival  otxiuliti^ui  rvmaimxl  jLtationanr.  They 
Uu\|;  inerl.  and  ;iptvkreutlr  lilVIct»  :  but  the  **  matter  of  seditiaii''  was 
alnuuUnt  Auuvt);  tlteut.  aud  n(x;[u:n^d  i«Ir  stirring  lo  make  it  falaae  st 
^^a\V  iut\*  A  i*i;:;:o.*     pjv  iXK  81. 


Yet  thv^  !Vuohiuan«  while  ho  hated  the  noble,  still 
hx*  j^nNitnets^  aiwl  ):t%^r%'  «ith  that  i4*  his  kiiu:.  ie  Grmmd  Mo- 
'it^'\'4ir>.^      Iav\1  i*h<«ctTne!d.  a  ice:i  ohKmer«  and  one  of  the  frv 

*  «hx\   at    a    Us<T  ivrtvxL  tv^:vTjsft«  a:u1  Rvrvti^Id  the  Revohitionf 
^  rettMr)k^.  thas  a  Kreusrh  M\;:er  «ill  vvcnirt'  hb  Hfr  with  alacrirv 

*  ov*r    "i/A'<«^'-  i*  n.'*,  be:  ib^:,  \x  yvu  w«v  t»  rhiwgr  the 


Causes  of  the  French  Revolutum,  377 

*'bably  run  away.'  This  remark  is  cited  by  the  Quarterly 
Reviewer  for  his  purpose :  it  will  serve  ours  better,  and  we  have 
only  to  contrast  with  it  the  nature  of  British  patriotism  as  illus- 
trated by  Mr.  Chenevix.  *  The  object  of  its  veneration,  unlike 
^  that  wiiich  the  people  of  other  monarchies  adore,  is  the  country, 
^  not  the  sovereign.    Although  the  prince  or  dynasty  who  go- 

*  vemed  England,  has  always  been  much  less  its  idol  than  uie 

*  nation  itsetf ;  yet,  when  once  the  English  have  professed  a 
'  regard  and  esteem  for  a  sovereign,  they  are  capable  of  greater 

*  sacrifices  for  his  welfare,  than  the  vain  nations,  whose  only 
^patriotism  is  their  monarch.'* 

In  England,  the  words  king  and  country  compose  not  merely 
one  phrase,  but  one  idea.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Court  and 
the  Government  are  ideas  perfectly  distinct,  and  never  con- 
founded. The  Court  may  be  the  object  either  of  popular  affec- 
tion or  of  contempt,  without  its  affecting  the  sentiments  of  loyalty 
to  the  Government.  It  is  felt,  if  not  understood,  that,  in  this 
country,  the  King  does  not  rule,  but  the  Law,  of  which  the  King 
is  a  part ;  and  the  constable's  staff  is  respected  as  much  as  a 
direct  mandate  from  the  highest  authority,  in  virtue  of  what  it 
represents.  A  steady  attachment  to  their  Government,  under 
every  change  of  administration,  discriminating  the  office  from 
the  person,  pervades  all  classes  of  the  community,  and  is  dis- 
covered in  the  very  anxiety  to  perfect  those  institutions  through 
and  by  which  alone  the  nation  seeks  to  express  its  will. 

In  France,  before  the  Revolution,  there  were  but  two  classes, 
the  privileged  orders  who  were  above  the  law,  and  the  people  to 
whom  the  law  afforded  no  efficient  protection.  In  England,  the 
highest  nobleman  is  controlled  by  the  same  law  that  protects  the 
peasant.  The  difference  between  the  two  social  conditions  can- 
not be  more  strikingly  illustrated  than  by  the  fact,  that  well 
educated  Frenchmen  have  confessed  themselves  unable,  even  now, 
to  conceive  of  an  hereditary  aristocracy  such  as  exists  in  England, 
the  members  of  which  should  not  have  it  in  their  power  to  oppress 
a  poor  man  in  violation  of  the  law  with  impunity.  The  political 
condition  of  the  people  of  England  is  so  totally  different  from  that 
of  their  neighbours,  that  the  latter  cannot  eyen  understand  it.  To 
our  American  brethren,  who  ought  to  know  us  better,  it  presents  a 
scarcely  less  baffling  paradox.  ^  We  find,'  says  an  American 
writer,  ^  institutions  existing  together  which  suppose  the  truth  of 

*  directly  opposite  principles, — equality  of  rights  and  hereditary 
^  privileges,  with  a  thousand  other  incongruities.'  But  that  which 
harmonizes  all  these  apparent  incongruities,  is,  that  they  have 
their  common  foundation  in  law,  their  common  sanction  from  that 
which  is,  in  England,  an  element  of  law, — ^history.     It  is  not  the 

*  Chenevix,  Vol.  II.  p.  523. 


376  CauaeB  of  the  French  Bevoluiim. 

mete  title  and  privil^e  of  the  peer  that  is  hereditary :   lh« 
ditary  feeling  pervades  all  classes,  enters  into  the  compoairion  of 
the  national  character,  and  mocks  the  wisdom  of  philosophy. 

But  that  which  more  peculiarly  distinguishes  the  oompontifla 
of  English  society  is,  the  character  and  importance  of  what  is 
denominated  the  middle  class.  Our  readers  will  recollect  the 
remark  cited  from  M.  Mignet ;  that  the  first  events  of  the  Fmch 
Revolution  were  an  insurrection  of  the  middle  claas  against  the 
privileged  orders;  the  second  act,  an  insuigency  c^  the  nob 
against  the  middle  class.  Assuming  this  to  be  correet,  we  mig)it 
be  warranted  in  saying,  that  the  cause  of  the  miscarriage  of  the 
Revolution  was  the  numerical  insignificance  and  relative  weakness 
of  the  middle  class  in  France.  Wo  awaits  that  nation  in  which, 
in  time  of  foreign  or  domestic  peril,  there  exists  no  mediatoij 
class  at  once  connecting  and  keepmg  apart  the  privileged  orders 
and  the  mob.  But  not  only  was  the  middle  claas  of  society 
relatively  inconsiderable :  the  absence  of  virtue,  wisdom,  «nd  true 
piety,  the  sources  of  moral  ascendancy,  rendered  it  intrinsicaUy 
weaL  The  exile  of  the  Protestants,  the  persecuti<m  of  the  Jan- 
scnists,  had  exhausted  society  of  its  conservative  w<»tli,  and 
enfeebled  the  nation  at  its  heart.  The  consequences  were  not 
felt  till,  when  the  seeds  of  disease  long  latent  in  the  body  politic 
developed  themselves,  it  was  found  that  there  was  no  strength 
left  to  struggle  with  the  excitement,  which  passed  almost  at  once 
into  frenzy. 

In  this  country,  an  intelligent  foreigner.  Count  Peeehio,  has 
remarked,  that  ^  that  class  of  society  which  is  the  best  infimned, 
^  the  most  hospitable,  the  most  beneficent,  and  the  most  virtuoos 
^  of  all,^  is  ^  immeasurably  more  numerous  than  in  any  other 
^  country,  and  forms,  so  to  speak,  the  heart  of  the  nation.*  We 
think  it  was  Voltaire  who  compared  the  English  nation  to  their 
own  porter,  the  froth  at  the  top,  the  dregs  at  the  bottom,  and  all 
between  excellent.  But  the  distinction  between  the  diflSstent 
classes  of  society  in  England,  is  not  marked  by  intervals,  but  by 
gradations.  There  are  a  variety  of  castes  in  the  aristocracy  itself; 
but  there  is  no  impassable  barrier  to  prevent  the  child  of  poverty 
from  attaining  the  highest  political  or  ecclesiastical  dignity. 
There  is  no  one  definable  middle  class,  but  rather  a  series  of 
middle  classes ;  and  the  lowest  orders  of  England  would,  in  any 
other  country,  be  a  middle  order,  in  point  of  comfort  and  intdh- 
gencc.  That  a  frightful  amount  of  popular  ignorance,  irreligion, 
crime,  and  distress  exists  in  this  country,  cannot  be  denied. 
liow  should  it  be  otherwise,  when,  in  less  than  a  century,  our 
population  has  more  than  doubled  upon  us,  without  any  adequate 
correspondent  extension  of  the  means  of  instruction?  How 
should  it  be  otherwise,  when,  till  very  recently,  the  higher  orders 
have  discouraiged,  and  even  opposed  the  education  of  the  people; 


Caums  of  the  French  Revolution.  379 

i««-vlnle  ihe  Teiy  criminal  institutions  of  the  countiy  hare  oon« 
tribatcd  to  the  encoaragement  of  crime.  *  The  increase  of  vice 
and  delinquency  under  these  circumstances,  however  apipalKng', 
besrs  a  smaller  proportion  to  the  increase  of  the  population,  than 
■light  have  been  anticipated,  and  than  must  inevitably  hare 
TCsnlted  from  such  positive  and  negative  causes  of  demorahzation, 
luid  not  other  causes  of  mighty  efficiency  come  into  operatum, 
cf  which,  till  of  late,  small  account  has  been  taken  by  our  states- 
men  and  legislators. 

The  march  of  intellect  is  a  hackneyed  phrase,  which  has 
•flbrded  occasion  for  much  tsar  satire,  as  well  as  unfirir  and  vulgar 
xidiciile.  But  it  means  something.  It  describes  a  fact  which, 
even  if  exaggerated,  is  not  the  less  worthy  of  beii^  rightly  esti- 
mated. The  ridicule  is  not  unmixed  with  jealousy  and  fear  on 
tkt  part  of  many  who  are  constrained  to  admit  the  progress  of 
iatetUgence  in  the  lower  orders  of  society.  What  is  the  true 
iBcatiing  of  the  spirit  of  reform  which  has  assumed  so  command- 
ing an  attitude  ?  To  Quarterly  Reviewers  and  the  faction  they 
represent,  it  may  seem  to  presage  revolution ;  whereas  it  is  the 
emct  of  one.  A  revolution  has  taken  place  ;  and  that  which,  in 
their  blindness,  they  wish  to  prevent,  has  become  history.  And 
what  is  the  character  of  that  pacific  revolution,  which  nas  been 
goinff  on  almost  unperceived  among  us  ?  It  differs  from  that 
which  took  place  in  France  forty  years  ago,  much  as  the  revo- 
lution produced  by  the  vernal  sun  in  the  face  of  nature,  differs 
from  tne  effects  of  a  physical  convulsion,  or  a  conflict  of  the 
elements*  The  Frencn  revolution  was  a  conflict  of  the  new 
opinions  with  the  old.  The  English  revolution  of  the  nineteenth 
century  is  the  development  of  the  moral  energies  of  the  nation. 

Among  the  unequivocal  signs  of  that  development,  we  may  in 
the  first  place  refin*  to  the  astonishing  display  of  the  principles  of 
qwntaneous  exertion  and  voluntary  combination,  in  our  relisious 
and  patriotic  institutions.  Other  countries  have  their  munificent 
pnUic  establishments  and  endowed  institutions  :  but  where  shall 
we  find  any  thing  like  the  immense  amount  of  beneficence  that  is 
sustained  by  popular  contributions  in  this  country  P  The  pecu- 
niary amount  that  is  annually  raised  for  such  objects,  though  a 
striking  evidence  of  the  wealth  and  reproductive  energy  of  the 
nation,  is  not  the  most  important  feature  of  these  institutions. 
To  estimate  them  aright,  we  must  take  into  account  the  moral 
sympathy  which  is  generated  and  transmitted  throughout  the 
social  system  by  this  reticular  apparatus,  spread  over  the  surface, 
and  Mending  with  the  veins  and  arteries  of  the  body  politic,  as  the 
media  of  thought  and  voluntary  motion.     All  this  additional 

*  See^  on  the  Increase  and  Causes  of  Crime^  £cl.  Rev.,  3d  Series^ 
vol.  vii.  p.  319. 


3K'  CeMfg»  r/  The  FnrnA 

■■■!!"" '■^"'"^    innekc  of  «i  ietl  ttroetan, 


;izJT  rnmers  z:  'Stt  id.tt  3  .  «  .  id  <  ^  *  the  figure*  vc 
3&CT  r.noisiiier  :2ieie  Ti     [rtunr  laoBt  at  so  many  new  condnili 

£zi£  '■'?:i~TTTif'i»  rixsifc  csTu   'mg  inftamce  of  intdligaMe, 

szc  w  i^:  iLiic^  a;  i  ms  lor  extending  the  monl 

njri  £=1:0:  a:  »:oaT.     m  at  dicae  insdtntionay  it  would  be 

g-*.r->  i^  SIT.  vbnLer  tJ  r  anect  or  their  indirect  cffinti  be 
tbe  zif »3  beaeDsal  The  Kble  :  $odenr,  with  ita  innomoahk 
rciif:ai^.-c».  2«  fcanelj  nxne  nscAiI  in  oistribatiii^  the  iofpind 
TC'hnr-e.  ihia  br  prosDociE^  die  umon  aoKMig  Chriatianay  fianided 
on  tLtdr  cc'Iejsod  rcle  of  &idi.  by  n  calling  uem  to  that  atuidfld, 
acd  bTexc:nn«r  an  interest  in  die  liTernl  difiiiaioa  of  thennBg 
knovledge  it  imparts. 

The  spirit  of  the  French  ReToludon  was  purely  diaoiganiBUioB: 
it  oould  destroy,  but  not  create.  It  demolished  e^ery  thing,  faot 
substituted  nothing  better  in  iu  place.  The  sprit  of  the  Eag^ 
revolution  is  a  plastic  energy,  producii^  spontaneooalyy  to  meel 
the  new  wants  of  society,  a  constitution  of  thinga  diat  aeems  li 
reproach  with  inefficiency  the  worn-out  machinery  of  older  tinei. 
Tne  spirit  that  lives  in  our  institutions,  and  which  originated 
them,  has  outgrown  the  forms  which  it  is  gradually  putting  off; 
but,  in  the  new  formations  to  which  it  is  giving  biith,  diere  ii 
nothing  but  what  is  in  harmon]^  with  the  old.  The  nririt  of 
reform  wars  with  nothing  in  our  institutions,  but  their  deo^  or 
corruption. 

To  a  dispassionate  and  impartial  observer,  the  numbers  nd 
the  spontaneous  exertions  of  the  English  Protestant  IXnenteii 
must  appear  one  of  the  most  striking  proofs  of  the  enerey  innate 
in  the  liritish  nation.  To  the  churchman  who  viewa  aU  that  is 
done  without  his  church,  as  so  much  done  against  it,  the  activity 
and  influence  of  the  sectaries  present  only  a  subject  of  jealoosj 
and  alarm.  Southcy  has  said,  that  those  who  are  diacontented 
with  the  Church  of  England  are  but  *half  Englishmen*;  to 
wliich  it  may  well  be  retorted,  that  those  who  quarrel  widi  Dissent 
arc  but  half  Christians.  Two-flfths  of  the  public  proTtnon  &r 
the  religious  instruction  of  the  nation  are  supplied  hy  the  Yoliiii- 
tary  ixmtributions  of  the  Dissenters,  in  adlidition  to  .all  that  is 
raisiHl  among  them  for  public  institutions,  which  cannot  he  lesi 
than  a  quarter  of  a  million  sterling.  In  what  a  state  ahonld  we 
have  Innni  as  a  nation,  with  sixteen  millions  of  people,  and  a 
stationar)',  slumlK^ring,  unpopular  Church,  but  for  the  free  and 
fH^pular  crtortsof  the  IMsscnting  communions, — theSunday..adiools, 
tho  villai^t^  pivaohin^«  the  tract  societies,  the  BiUe  asBoeiadons, 
^hwh  they  have  originatixl.  the  evangelical  instmcdon  whidi 
thr\  h.'l^c  im]vir(c\U  and  the  ^nlutar}-  re-action  of  their  lahoors 
U|VM)  tho  VscalUiNhiuouc  iun^If :  Con  a  man  be  more  than  half  an 
Fui^IisLhuun,   >»lu\  vio«int:  ^ith  utter   dissatis&ction    all   this 


Causes  of  the  French  Revolution.  381 

movement  of  moral  life  and  energy  as  a  revolutionary  agitation, 
sickens  at  the  name  of  Methodism,  and  curses  Dissent.  The 
spirit  of  Dissent,  which  Burke  styled  the  Protestantism  of  the 
Protestant  religion,  the  spirit  of  religious  liberty,  the  spirit  of 
voluntary  zeal  and  combination,  the  missionary  and  aggressive 

X'rit  which  an  Establishment  restrains  and  discourages,  but  which 
i  Gospel  both  sanctions  and  produces,— call  it  a  revolutionary 
spirit,  (as  the  Apostles  were  stigmatized  as  the  men  who  turned 
the  world  upside  down,) — this  spirit  has  made  our  country 
what  it  is,  and,  by  the  moral  revolution  it  has  produced,  and  is 
producing,  has  saved  us  from  the  horrors  of  a  political  convulsion, 
such  as  tne  increase  of  the  population,  and  the  unrestrained  growth 
of  pauperism  and  vice,  must  otherwise  have  brought  on. 

Dissent  has  saved  the  country,  but  it  has  brought  the  tithe  into 
danger  !  Hinc  illi  lachrymce.  This  turbulent  spirit  of  reform- 
ation, not  contenting  itself  with  planting  chapels  and  Sunday- 
schools  all  over  the  coimtry,  and  Bible  societies  all  over  the 
world,  is  beginning  to  measure  its  strength  against  long-standing 
corruptions  in  Church  and  State.  The  slave-trade  has  fallen 
before  it,  and  slavery  itself  is  in  its  death-struggle.  The  test- 
laws  have  given  way.  Old  Sarum  and  Gatton  have  been  anni- 
hilated. And  matters  are  brought  to  such  a  pass,  that  the 
Church  Establishment,  in  order  to  stand,  must  submit  to  reform, 
must  part  with  its  cherished  pluralities,  must  become  less  secular 
and  more  popular.  Is  not  all  this  extremely  like  the  first  move- 
ments of  the  French  Revolution  ?  If  the  following  picture  of 
the  progress  of  public  opinion,  drawn  by  Lord  John  Russell, 
describe  the  previous  state  of  France,  some  resemblance  might 
be  detected  between  it  and  the  present  state  of  England ;  but  to 
the  former  it  is  wholly  inapplicable. 

'There  is  a  principle  of  life  in  modern  governments/  says  the  noble 
author^  *  which  antiquity  never  knew.  In  Greece  and  Rome,  all  the 
citizens,  alike  poor,  were  at  first  the  virtuous  supports  of  free  institu- 
tions ;  but,  as  wealth  and  luxury  advanced,  all  grew  alike  corrupt,  and 
the  needy  multitude  were  swayed  by  the  opulent  few.  In  modem 
monarchies,  the  progress  has  been  very  different.  The  wretched  depend- 
ants of  feudal  times  were  converted,  with  the  increase  of  wealth,  into 
the  substantial  yeomanry  and  tradesmen.  Into  these  powerful  but 
inert  masses  were  thrown,  from  the  printing  press,  the  animating 
sparks  of  historical  instruction  and  political  intelligence.  Where  works 
pf  genius,  on  the  subjects  of  law  and  liberty,  are  generally  diffused, 
there  arises  a  new  spirit  of  virtue,  which  corrects  the  rancid  corruption 
of  a  decaying  government.  In  proportion  as  the  middle  and  lower 
classes  rise  in  knowledge,  they  rise  in  importance,  and  judge  of  their 
masters  by  the  test  of  their  own  worth.  Not  having  been  corrupted  by 
power,  their  standard  of  what  is  right  in  government  is  much  higher 
than  that  of  the  ruling  classes.  A  new  people  come  to  the  surface,  and 
obtain  an  influence  over  the  destiny  of  their  country.     An  awful  tribu- 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  3   B 


SyB9  Causes  of  th$  French  MevoluHon. 

nal  is  erected  even  in  the  midit  of  a  corrupted  society ;  and  the  meoN 
hers  of  the  most  yicioua  order  hegin  to  bend  before  public  <^inioa«. 
The  minds  of  men  are  cleared ;  public  character  is  submitted  to  the 
ordeal  of  shame  or  approbation  ;  and  that  lethargy  of  a  state  which  is 
the  sure  forerunner  of  dissolution^  is  effectually  prevented.'  pp.  84 — 86. 

Lord  John  must  have  been  thinking  of  his  own  country  only, 
when  be  penned  this  paragraph.  There  is,  however,  a  principle 
of  life  in  nations,  unknown  to  Greece  and  Rome,  with  which  the 
philosophic  historian  rarely  concerns  himself,  which  eludes  his 
qbservation,  and  scarcely  comes  into  his  creed.  That  vital  prin- 
ciple is  the  secret  of  England'^s  strength  and  greatness, — her  reli- 
gious faith.  ^' God  is  in  the  midst  of  her:  she  shall  not  be 
moved.** 

Whatever  were  the  secondary  causes  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tions no  one  who  believes  that  the  affairs  of  nations  are  under  the 
moral  government  of  the  Judge  of  the  whole  earth,  can  look  upcm 
that  catastrophe  in  any  other  ii^ht  than  as  a  national  punishment. 
If  it  was  the  offspring  of  infidebty,  it  was  the  avenger  of  the  per* 
aecuted  faith.  The  iniquities  ^  the  court  and  the  nation  were 
full,  and  retribution  for  all  the  innocent  blood  that  had  been  shed 
in  former  reigns,  was  fearfulW  exacted  from  that  generation.  The 
Quarterly  Reviewer  would  fain  exculpate  altogether  the  nobles, 
and  clergy,  and  court  of  France  from  having  had  any  share  in 
causing  the  Revolution.  Oh,  no; — the  heartless  profligacy  of 
X»ouis  XV.,  the  tyranny  and  oppression  under  which  the  nation 
groaned,  the  abominations  of  Popery,  the  hypocrisy  and  immo^ 
rality  of  a  corrupt  priesthood,  had  nothing  to  do  in  causing  the 
displeasure  of  Heaven  or  the  madness  of  the  people.  No,  the 
chief  cause  was  the  feeble  character  and  the  concessions  of  Louis 
XVI.!  This  is  worse  than  absurd,  because  it  is  irreligious.  It 
not  only  falsiBes  history,  but  would  blot  out  the  salutary  lesson 
which  the  handwriting  of  God  has  inscribed  upon  its  records,  that 
Sin  alone  is  the  cause  of  the  ruin  of  nations. 

Our  confidence  that  no  such  dire  and  fatal  overthrow  awaits 
]3ritain,  mainly  rests,  after  all,  upon  the  animating  and  consolsr- 
tory  assurance,  that,  with  all  our  national  guilt,  the  characteristict 
pf  the  times  are  not  such  as  mark  ^  a  people  prepared  for  de? 
^  struction\  The  righteous  are  not  few ;  their  numbers  are  not 
diminishing.  The  signs  of  the  times  are,  in  many  respects,  full 
of  promise.  The  standard  literature  of  England  dioes  not  consist 
pf  the  obscene  efRisions  of  deism.  Never  was  icligious  know- 
ledge so  widely  diffiiscd.  Compare  the  state  of  France  before 
the  Revolution  with  that  of  England  now,  in  this  one  respect, 
and  the  difference  is  infinite.  In  the  one  country,  the  word  of 
God  was  less  read  than  Voltaire  by  the  higher  classes,  and  was  a 
sealed  book  to  the  lower  orders.  In  the  oUier,  the  Bible  is  found 
in  ev^ry  cottage.    Need  we  pursue  the  contrast  ?     The  tn^Ui  is^ 


Eliot  on  ChrUtianity  and  Slavery.  383 

we  feel  in  dancer  of  glorying  in  out  country,  as  we  dwell  upon  all 
that  distinguisnes  it  from  M  the  nations  of  the  6arth.  But  we 
check  oufselves.  **  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but  unto 
Thy  name  giro  glory  .^ 


m*»JU^^mi^mmmdt^t,^,m^m^^.^^^t^^ 


Art.  II.  Christianity  and  Slavery  ;  in  a  Course  of  Lectures  preached 
at  the  Cathedral  and  Parish  Church  of  St.  Michael^  Barbados. 
By  Kdward  Eliot^  B.D.^  Archdeacon  of  Barbados^  and  late  Fel- 
low and  Tutor  of  Exeter  Hall^  Oxford.  12mo.  pp.  xx.  232. 
Priee  4i.  Qd.    London,  1B32. 

^T^HIS  is  in  all  respects  an  interesting,  and,  considering  the 
•*■  circumstances  under  which  these  Lectures  were  delivered,  a 
remarkable  volume.  In  Archdeacon  Eliot,  a  spirit  of  fervent 
and  enlightened  piety  is  happily  blended  with  no  ordinary  moral 
courage,  and  at  the  same  time  with  sound  discretion  and  conciliatory 
manners.  His  character  was  well  known  to  us  before ;  and  these 
Lectures  have  but  confirmed  our  previous  estimate.  Barbados 
has  been  highly  favoured  in  having  so  faithful  an  instructor  and 
reprover  amonz  her  residents ;  and  well  would  it  be  for  that  co- 
lony, if  at  such  preaching  her  slave-oWners  could  be  brought  to 
repent.  In  these  Lectures,  however,  there  is  nothing  of  a  de^ 
clamatory,  nothing  of  a  directly  criminating  character :  it  is  only 
indirectly  that  the  Preacher  becomes  a  witness,  a  most  valuable 
and  unimpeachable  one,  as  to  the  present  state  of  Slatety  in  the 
Colonies. 

We  are  sometimes  met  by  jpro-slavery  advocates  with  the  re- 
mark, that  there  is  evidence  on  both  sides.  To  rebut  the  de* 
cisive  testimony  afforded  by  men  of  the  highest  character,  such 
as  Vice-Admiral  Fleming,  Mr.  Jeremie,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Thorp, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Trew,  Mr.  Whiteley,  the  Baptist  and  Wesleyan 
Missionaries,  and  others, — we  have  the  strong  affirmations  of  Sir 
Michael  Clare,  who  had  never  heard  of  the  whip  being  used  to 
stimulate  labour,  or  of  any  waste  of  life  by  over-working ; — of  Mr. 
Baillie,  who  professed  equal  ignorance  about  the  cart-whip,  and 
yet  declared  that  the  negro,  unless  compelled,  would  not  work, 
and  who  did  not  consider  that  any  licentious  intercourse  pre- 
vailed among  the  slaves ; — of  Major  General  Sir  John  Keane, 
who,  during  the  eight  years  he  was  in  Jamaica,  never  heard  of  a 
complaint  or  a  cause  or  complaint,  who  affirms  that  no  cruel  pro- 
prietor or  manager  would  be  tolerated  in  Jamaica,  and  describes 
the  negroes  as  always  singing,  and  most  happy  at  the  heaviest 
Woit  *; — of  Admiral  Barrington,  who,  in  1790,  thought  that  the 
i^ves  seemed  so  happy,  that '  he  had  wished  himself  a  negro  ;^ 

♦  Report  of  Lords'  Committee,  pp.  279—287;  41—45 ;  170^172- 

3b2 


384  Eliot  an  CkristianUy  and  Slavtry. 


ind  of  GrovernoT  Payne  (afterwards  Lord  Lavington),  and 
Governor  Parry,  who  respectively  affirmed,  that  the  connnon 
labour  of  the  negro  would  be  play  to  any  peasant  in  this  country  !t 
Here  is  counter-evidence  with  a  vengeance,  such  as,  were  it  ngC, 
fortunately,  so  self-contradictory  as  to  carry  its  own  refutatimi, 
would  render  it  difficult  to  determine  what  we  are  to  believe. 
But  although  this  difficulty  is  obviated,  there  is  another  em- 
barrassing question  arising  out  of  this  opposite  evidence.  How, 
'  without  charging  fiat  perjury  on  the  pro-slavery  witnesses,  shall 
we  account  for  their  very  different  use  of  their  senses  of  seeing 
and  hearing,  to  say  nothing  of  their  moral  perceptions  ?  The 
following  remarks  may  serve,  perhaps,  as  a  partial  explanation  of 
the  phenomenon. 

*  The  evils  of  slavery  are  strikingly  perceptible  to  the  European  ot 
his  Jirst  arrival,  I  have  often  remarked,  that  a  protracted  resideoM 
has  the  effect  either  of  confirming  unalterably  his  first  impressions,  or 
of  almost  entirely  removing  them.  There  is  rarely  a  middle  states 
Most  generally,  the  feelings  of  dissatisfaction  cease,  when  the  mind  k 
familiarized  to  the  objects  which  at  first  shocked  it.  If,  then,  such  be 
the  effect  frequently  produced  on  the  disinterested  spectator,  we  ought 
not  to  wonder  that  tne  proprietor,  who  regards  his  all  at  stake  in  tht 
continuance  of  the  present  system,  and  whose  associations  in  its  fayoor 
have  grown  with  his  erowtb,  should  be  adverse  to  a  change.  I  bdiew 
experience  has  proved,  that  in  no  part  of  England,  and  among  no  dan 
of  Its  inhabitants,  are  unreasonable  prejudices  so  prevalent,  and  so  diffi- 
cult to  be  subdued,  as  in  our  agricultural  districts,  and  among  the 
people  who  are  directly  interested  in  the  productive  cultivation  of  the 
soU.'     Prc/ace,  pp.  ix,  X. 

We  are  willing  that  the  more  respectable  among  the  apologists 
for  slavery  should  have  the  full  benefit  of  this  charitable  way  of 
accounting  for  their  unhappy  prejudices ;  but  the  fact  referred  to 
may  serve  to  put  the  reader  on  his  guard  against  the  deceptive 
statements  of  those  individuals  in  whom  familiarity  with  all  that 
is  disgusting  and  cruel  in  the  system,  has  deadened  the  feelings 
of  dissatisfaction,  if  not  obliterated  all  sense  of  its  enormity. 

Archdeacon  Eliot  has  happily  preserved  the  integrity  of  his 
feelings,  and,  if  not  the  vividness,  the  correctness  of  his  first  im- 
pressions. At  the  same  time,  it  is  evidently  his  wish  as  much  as 
possible  to  avoid  giving  offence  to  the  parties  to  whom  these 
Lectures  are  addressed.  They  were  originally  preached,  with 
the  exception  of  the  last,  before  large  congregations  of  the  white 
inhabitants  of  Barbados ;  and  are  now  published,  *  with  a  view  to 
*  disseminate  more  widely  the  suggestions  they  contain,  as  well  to 


*  Cited  in  Stephen's  Slavery  of  the  West  India  Colonies  Delineated. 
Vol.  II. 


Eliot  on  Christianity  and  Slavery.  385 

non-resident  proprietors  in  England,  as  to  their  agents  and  sub- 
ordinate officers  on  estates  in  these  colonies/  The  subjects  of 
lie  Lectures  are :  I.  The  Duty  of  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the 
Slaves  in  the  West  Indies.  Mark  xvi.  15. — II.  The  Progress  of 
he  Gospel  in  the  West  Indies.  2  Thess.  iii.  1.— III.  The  Ob- 
lervance  of  the  Lord''s  Day  in  the  West  Indies.  Mark  xi.  27. — 
[V.  Causes  of  the  Infrequency  of  Marriage  among  the  Slaves. 
3eb.  xiii.  4. — V.  Giving  unto  Servants  that  which  is  just  and 
»qual.     Col.  iv.  1. — VI.  Souls  not  Saleable.     Mark  viii.  37- 

In  the  6rst  lecture,  Mr.  Eliot  takes  a  brief  review  of  the 
progress  of  Christianity  in  the  colonies,  or  rather  of  the  system- 
atic attempts  of  the  colonists,  from  the  very  earliest  period,  to 
exclude  the  Gospel,  so  far  as  regards  the  African  population. 
Prohibitory  laws,  some  possessing  the  ^  harshest  features  of  per- 
secution %  were  enacted  to  prevent  the  pious  endeavours  made, 
n  the  first  instance,  by  the  Society  of  Friends,  to  Christianize 
;he  imported  Africans.     *  Theirs  is  the  praise  of  having  first 
attempted,  amidst  obloquy  and  suffering,  to  preach  the  Gospel 
in  Barbados  to  the  heathen  African  slave.^     Nearly  about  the 
tame  time,  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  Rev.  Morgan 
jrodwyn,  student  of  Christ  Church,  arrived  in  this  colony,  ^  and 
earnestly  endeavoured  to  obtain  the  acknowledgement,  that  the 
African  was  one  of  the  human  species,  and  tnerefore,  as  de- 
scended from  Adam,  entitled  to  be  admitted  into  the  blessings 
of  the  Gospel  covenant  which  was  ratified  by  the  blood  of  the 
'  Second  Adam,  the  Lord  from  heaven. 

'  His  efforts  were  openly  opposed  by  the  lay  proprietors  in  Barbados ; 
lor  have  we  reason  to  believe  that  he  received  much  active  cooperation 
^rom  his  brethren  in  the  ministry.  His  individual  and  unaided  exer- 
{ions  were  consequently  almost  entirely  fruitless ;  and  he  has  recorded 
lis  fiulure  in  a  work  which  may  still  be  read  with  a  melancholy  in- 
;ere8t.'    p.  13. 

In  a  note,  Mr.  Eliot  cites  from  a  contemporary  French  writer, 
Labat,  a  corroboration  of  the  account  given  by  Morgan  Godwyn, 
>f  the  neglected  state  of  the  English  slaves  about  this  period ; 
Rrhich  shews  that  even  Roman  Catholics  will  rise  up  in  the 
judgement  against  British,  Protestant  slave-owners. 

' "  The  English  take  little  care  of  their  negroes  .  .  .  Their  minis- 
ters neither  instruct  nor  baptize  them.  They  look  upon  them  almost 
IS  cattle,  to  whom  every  thing  is  allowed,  provided  that  they  punc- 
tually discharge  their  task.  They  suffer  them  to  have  several  wives, 
lad  to  leave  them  at  pleasure :  provided  that  they  have  many  children, 
work  hard,  and  are  never  ill,  their  masters  are  satisfied,  and  ask  nothing 
ftirther." 

'Labat  proceeds  to  inform  us,  that  insurrections  were  very  com- 
mon at  this  time  in  the  English  islands,  notwithstanding  the  insurgent 


386  Eliot  on  Christianiip  and  Slaoery. 

slaves  were  alwmjs  punished  with  the  utmost  severity.  Tliere  iru  do 
drnposition  to  deal  mercifully  with  them.  **  Those  who  are  taken  and 
led  to  prison,  are  condemnea  to  be  crushed  in  the  mill,  bamed  alive, 
or  exposed  in  iron  cages  which  confine  them  so  that  thej  are  nnaUe  to 
movc^  and  in  this  state,  they  are  hung  to  a  branch  of  a  tree,  where 
they  ure  left  to  perish  with  hunger  and  rage.  They  call  thia  putting 
a  man  out  to  dry  {inellre  un  homme  au  sec)."  The  French  colonioB 
were  much  less  liable  to  these  insurrectionary  movements  ;  and  one 
reason  assigned  by  Labat  is,  the  attention  which  was  paid  by  the  French 
proj?rielors  of  that  daif  to  the  moral  and  religious  imntooement  q/*  ikek 
slaves  .  .  .  After  relating  that  the  French  slaves  oi  St.  Christopher's 
fled  to  the  mountains,  when  the  English  seized  on  the  island!,  aiid 
afterwards,  as  opportunities  offered,  voluntarily  returned  to  their 
former  masters,  he  adds : — "  These  instances  of  fidelity  can  be  attri- 
buted only  to  the  instruction  in  the  faith  which  these  poor  people  had 
received  from  their  masters,  and  to  the  fear  they  had  of  losing  it,  in 
living  under  musters  who  gave  themselves  so  little  trouble  about  the 
salvation  of  their  servants."  '     pp.  189-*-191« 

It  would  seem  that  both  the  English  and  the  Dutcby  either 
from  a  ^  mistaken  interpretation  of  the  laws  relating  to  colonial 

*  slavery  \  or  more  prol)ably  from  motives  of  Christian  delicacy, 
and  a  regard  to  the  honour  of  Jesus  Christ,  opposed  making  their 
slaves  Christians,  because  they  could  not  hold  Christians  as 
slaves !  The  Mohammedan  chieftains  of  Central  Africa  are  ac- 
tuated by  a  similar  delicacy  in  confining  their  grazziesj  or  slaying 
incursions,  to  the  pagan  tribes ;  since,  as  Major  Denham  tdls  us, 
they  may  not  make  slaves  of  the  Moslem.     *  Not  a  few  Christian 

*  masters  \  says  Archbishop  Seeker,  in  a  sermon  preached  before 
the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel,  *  hare  openly 

*  opposed  the  instruction  of  their  slaves,  from  an  imag^natioii,  now 

*  indeed  proved  and  acknowledged  to  be  groundless,  that  baptism 

*  would  entitle  them  to  freedom;  and  some,  it  may  be£eared,  have 

*  been  averse  to  their  becoming  Christians,  because^  after  ihaif 

*  wo  prctctu^'  will  remain  for  not  teaching  them  like  mefiS"  Dr. 
Collins  of  St.  Vincent''8,  a  sensible  and  bciievolent  planter,  faints 
at  another  reason.  There  were  some,  in  his  day,  who  ridiculed 
attempt^  to  impress  the  slaves  with  religious  ideas,  '  not  wishing 

*  their  negroefi  to  l>e  better  Christians  than  themselves  !^  Those 
time$«  however,  Mr.  Eliot  $ays«  are  happily  passed ; — not  alto- 

S}i]\cT   indeed,  whatever  may  be  the  case  in  Barbadoa; — fam 
icre, 

*  The  assertion  is  no  loncer  openly  made,  that  the  African  is  de- 
graded below  the  lorel  of  hnroan  nature,  and  is  therefore  ncsdMr 
onalifird  nor  dosignctl  fvr  the  enjoyment  of  the  blessings  of  the  Gq^kL 
The  advtwates  f»r  his  admission  to'  the  Church  are  no  ronger  wrthstoed 
on  the  ground  that  he  is  not  of  the  same  descent  with  the  Eoropean ; 
nor  are  arcuments  now  brought  forward  to  invalidate  the  dedantioB 
of  St.  PtftiU,  that  **  God  hath  made  of  one  blood  all  natioos  of  men  fir 


Eliot  on  Christianity  and  Slavery.  887 

to  dwell  on  aU  the  face  of  the  earth."  The  moet  superficial  examin- 
ation of  our  coloured  schools  will  enable  us  to  repel  the  insinuation  of 
an  inferiority  of  intellect  in  the  negro.  I  can  assert^  with  the  con- 
fidence arising  from  long  and  attentive  observation^  that,  with  equal 
advantages,  he  shews  a  capacity  equal  in  every  respect  to  that  of  his 
white  hrethenfor  mental  improvement,  and  for  all  the  moral  excellencies 
which  distinguish  man  from  the  beasts  of  the  field.'    pp.  22,  3. 

It  is  an  affecting  fact,  that  the  earliest  attempt  to  give  gra- 
tuitous school  instruction  to  the  coloured  children  in  Barbados, 
was  made  by  a  layman,  Lieut.  Lugger,  Royal  Artillery,  as 
recently  as  1818.  Since  then,  schools  in  connexion  with  the 
Church  have  been,  we  are  assured,  very  generally  instituted 
throughout  the  colony,  by  the  authority  of  the  present  Bishop  of 
Barbados.  *  There  is  now  scarcely  a  town,  I  believe  I  may  say,^ 
adds  Mr.  Eliot,  ^  scarcely  a  village  throughout  the  diocese,  where 

*  a  knowledge  of  the  Christian  duties,  accompanied  with  instruct 

*  tion  in  reading  and  writing,  is  not  brought  within  reach  both  of 

*  the  free  coloured  and  of  the  slave  population.^  This  is  cheering 
intelligence,  and  very  creditable  to  the  bishop ;  but  we  fear  that 
the  Jield'slaves  are  not  likely  to  derive  much  benefit  from  the 
provision. 

Again,  in  Barbados,  a  beneficial  change  is  stated  to  have  taken 
place,  of  late^  in  respect  to  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath. 

'  The  inhabitants  of  our  West  India  Colonies  have  long  had  to  con- 
tend against  the  reproach,  that,  notwithstanding  their  outward  pro- 
fession of  the  religion  of  Christ,  and  their  boasted  adherence  to  the 
established  churches  of  the  mother  country,  the  breach  of  the  enjoined 
sanctity  of  the  sabbath,  which  these  churches  recognize  as  a  divine 
ordinance^  has  been  encouraged  among  the  greater  part  of  their  popu- 
lation. I  rejoice  to  be  able  to  say  that  the  evil  which,  but  a  few  years 
zap,  notoriouslv  existed  in  this  island,  and  which  by  every  sincere 
Christian  was  justly  regarded  as  an  offence  both  to  God  and  to  man« 
has  been  in  a  great  measure  redressed  by  a  recent  legislative  enact- 
ment; and  I  express  my  conviction  when  f  declare,  that  the  compulsory 
violation  of  the  Lord's  day  is  now  almost  unknown  among  us.  I  con* 
aider  that  the  present  pronibitorv  laws,  if  duly  enforced  by  the  magis* 
tracy,  are  sufficient  to  prevent  any  very  flagrant  interruption  to  itfr 
sanctity.  The  marketing  and  huckstenng  which  still  partially  exists 
are  rather  connived  at  than  publicly  allowed ;  and  from  a  mistaken 
kindness,  or  perhaps  from  some  remaining  prejudices  in  favour  of  a 
long-established  usage,  the  evil  is  tolerated  even  in  defiance  of  the 
law.  The  instances  of  offence  are,  however,  less  common  than  for- 
merly; and  we  may  hope  that  with  the  increase  of  religious  knowledge 
among  us,  our  people  will  assemble  on  the  sabbath,  not  to  traffic  and 
barter  their  goods,  but  to  hear  the  word  of  God,  and  to  join  in  congre- 
gational prayer.'     pp.  82 — 84. 

'  I  wish  not,  by  instituting  a  comparison  between  this  and  the 
neighbouring  colonies  with  which  I  am  officially  connected,  to  express 


388  Eliot  on  Christianity  and  Slavery. 

any  harsh  or  uncharitable  censure  of  abuses  which^  though  in  a  great 
measure  discontinued  here,  are  still  tolerated  in  some  of  them  with  a 
demoralizing  effect  on  the  great  body  of  the  people.  In  this  island, 
the  cultivation  of  the  garden  or  provision  grounds  of  the  negro  on  the 
sabbath  is  not  required  for  his  support,  and  it  therefore  is  no  blame- 
able  severity  to  enforce  the  laws  which  prohibit  it.  In  the  colonies 
alluded  to,  the  necessity  imposed  on  him  of  providing  by  extra  labour 
for  his  maintenance,  often  compels  him  to  work  on  the  Sunday.  Bat 
in  this^  and  in  every  other  case^  in  which  the  violation  of  the  Lord's 
day  is  unavoidable,  the  guilt  devolves  on  the  master. 

'The  Sunday  market  has  been  abolished  by  law  in  this  island, 
though,  in  the  excepting  clauses  of  the  prohibitory  act,  a  licence  is 
allowed  for  the  sale  of  perishable  articles,  which,  I  am  afraid,  is  open 
to  great  abuse.  The  duty  of  putting  an  end  to  the  unchristian  usage  of 
marketing  on  the  Lord's  day,  is  now  generally  acknowledged  through- 
out the  British  West  Indies.  The  desire,  however,  still  remains  in 
some  of  the  colonies,  to  compromise  the  duty  by  legalizing  the  partial 
breach  of  the  sabbath,  and  authorizing  by  a  specific  enactment,  public 
trafficking  in  the  markets  until  ten  or  eleven  o'clock.  There  is  in  this 
palliative  of  the  evil  something  more  injurious  to  religion  and  good 
morals,  than  the  practice  which  existed  before,  of  devoting  the  entire 
day  to  secular  occupations.  The  offence,  though  connived  at^  and 
even  sanctioned  by  custom,  was,  then,  always  r^arded  as  an  offence. 
It  has  now  the  solemn  sanction  of  law.  The  statutes  and  ordinances 
of  man  are  presumptuously  arrayed  against  the  positive  and  known 
command  of  God. 

'  It  has  been  urged  in  this  colony — and  possibly  in  other  parts  of 
the  West  Indies  we  may  hear  the  same  excuse — that  the  master  is 
unwilling  to  abridge  the  comforts  of  his  slaves,  by  depriving  them  of 
the  little  gains  which  the  privilege  of  a  Sunday  market  affords  them, 
or  by  forbidding  the  recreation  of  the  Sunday  revel  or  dance.  There 
is  something  selfish  in  this  boasted  kindness.  The  master  is  fayouring 
himself  at  the  expense  of  God.  He  refuses  to  grant  any  portion  S 
the  time  which  is  his  own,  while  he  gives  away,  with  an  ostentatious 
liberality,  the  time  which  is  not  his,  but  his  Lord's.  His  own  work  is 
rigidly  exacted,  while  the  neglect  of  God's  work  is  tolerated  and  some- 
times encouraged  on  the  day  which  He  claims  as  his.'     pp.  86 — 89. 

Our  readers  will  judge  whether  the  improvement  that  has  taken 
place  in  this  respect,  even  in  Barbados,  one  of  the  best  regulated 
colonies,  be  of  a  satisfactory  character.  We  pass  on  to  the 
subject  of  the  fourth  lecture,  ^  the  causes  of  the  infrequency  of 
^  marriage  among  the  slaves.^  Those  which  the  Author  adyerts 
to  are :  1 .  ^  The  indifference^  and,  in  some  cases,  even  the  oppo- 

*  sition  of  the  master  to  the  marriage  of  his  slaves^    and  *  the 
^  ridicule  with  which  the  marriages  of  slaves  arc  oflen  treated  by 

*  those  who  exercise  authority  over  them,  either  direct  or  subor- 

*  dinate.'*     2.  *  The  bad  example  which  prevails  in  our  colonies, 
^  by  the  licentious  and  unhallowed  connexions  which  are  openly 

*  formed  between  the  superior  and  his  dependent^ — between  the 


"IBliot  an  Chrhtianity  and  Slavery,  389 

**  white  man  and  his  black  or  coloured  concubine."  3.  ^  The 
^  opposition  of  the  drivers  and  other  influential  n^roes  on  the 
*  estates,^  who  ^  are  accustomed  to  regard  a  plurality  of  connexioiM 
^  as  among  the  chief  perquisites  of  office/  4l  The  heathen 
ignorance  in  which  the  slave  population  are  retained.  5.  The 
want  of  legal  encouragement  to  the  marriage  of  slaves  *.  Upon 
diis  last  cause,  Mr.  Eliot  remarks : 

'  I  attribute  to  this  defect  in  our  laws  many  of  the  hinderances  whidi 
obetmct  the  discontinuance  of  their  present  licentiousness^  and  with- 
hold them  from  the  salutary  restraints  of  the  marriaffe  bond.  There 
la  no  legal  distinction  between  the  children  of  parents  hwfully  married^ 
and  those  who  are  the  ofl^pring  of  an  unhallowed  and  transient  con- 
nexion. The  parents  themselves  are  in  no  way  distinguished  by 
superior  respectability  in  the  eyes  of  the  public.  They  have  none  oi 
the  encouragements  which  exist  among  almost  every  other  people^  to 
Induce  a  preference  in  favour  of  the  marriage  state.  They  are  left 
without  any  security  against  a  forcible  separation  by  sale^  or  by  the 
removal  of  the  owners  to  a  distant  residence^  or  into  ^another  colony. 
Whether  the  men  have  one  or  more  wives — ^for  strange  as  it  may 
•appear^  the  term  wife  is  in  general  use  among  them,  whether  they  are 
constant  in  their  attachments,  or  change  with  the  caprice  of  the 
-moment — whether  they  desert,  or  deny,  or  foster  their  offspring,  is  a 
matter  of  entire  indifference  as  far  as  the  laws  of  the  land,  or  the  in- 
fluence of  public  opinion,  affect  them.  Their  habits,  in  every  thing 
hearing  on  the  moral  decencies  of  life,  are  as  little  noticed  as  those  of 
beings  irrational  and  without  responsibility. 

'  *'  Marriage"  (we  learn  from  a  high  legal  authority)  ''  is  a  contract 
of  natural  law;  in  civil  society  it  becomes  a  civil  contract,  regulated 
and  prescribed  by  law,  and  endowed  with  civil  consequences."  1 
believe  I  may  say  that,  with  verj  few  exceptions,  and  these  often  of  a 
restrictive  t  character,  marriage  is  not  regulated  and  presoribed  by  law 
in  the  case  of  the  slave  inhabitants  of  our  West  India  colonies ;  nor  am 
I  aware  that  it  is  in  any  instance  efidamed  with  civil  consequences. 
Being  defective  in  what  is  iustly  considered  essential  to  it  as  a  civil 
contract,  we  cannot  wonder  that  the  slaves  themscHves  r^;ard  it  with 
indifference,  and  even  prefer  the  d^^rading  licentiousness  in  which 
they  are  allowed  to  revel  at  present,  to  a  restraint  which  is  attended 
vita  no  obvious  and  practical  good  to  themselves  or  to  their  children.' 

pp.  112—115. 

*  Three  other  causes  are  adverted  to;  a  supposed  uffwiDingness 
on  the  part  of  the  slaves  to  enter  into  an  indissoluble  contract,  ti^ichj 
Mr.  Eliot  believes,  has  no  existence ;  the  remains  of  African  prejudice 
in  favour  of  polygamy ;  and,  the  serious  dereliction  qf  duty  on  the  pari 
qf  the  clergy  in  the  nest  Indies,  in  not  having  insisted  on  the  duty  of 
respecting  tne  marriage  bond. 

t  By  the  law  in  Barbados,  slave  marriages  are  restricted  to  persons 
''  being  the  property  of  the  same  owner."  In  Antigua^  those  who  are 
of  free  condition  are  not  allowed  to  intermarry  with  slaves. 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  3  c 


390  Eliot  071  Christianity  a?id  Slavery. 

Although,  by  the  law  in  Barbados,  slave  marriages  are  restricted 
to  persons  '  being  the  property  of  the  same  owner,**  there  is  no 
law  which  secures  those  who,  being  the  property  of  the  same 
owner,  have  married,  against  being  forcibly  separated.  Yet,  one 
of  the  objections  urged  against  compulsory  manumission,  is,  that 
it  would  *  open  the  door  to  illicit  concubinage!'  *  Is  lawful  mar- 
riage then,'*  asks  Mr.  Eliot,  '  common  among  the  slaves  in  our 
colonies,  or  has  it  ever  been  so  ?' 

'  Is  there  any  check  from  public  opinion  or  public  law^  to  open  and 
notorious  ])rofligacy  arising  from  connexions  between  slaves  and  white 
men  ?  The  circumvStance  of  a  freeman  bestowing  on  a  female  slave 
the  means  of  purchasing  her  manumission^  is  a  strong  presumption  in 
favour  of  the  permanency  of  his  attachment,  and  of  his  securing  the 
slave's  well-being  afterwards.  The  immorality^  taking  the  worst 
possible  view  of  the  case,  would  not  be  greater  than  at  present.'   p.  224. 

The  plain  and  faithful  admonition  with  which  this  lecture  closes, 
does  honour  to  the  Preach er''s  integrity. 

In  the  next  lecture,  Mr.  EHot  adverts  to  a  practice,  as  having 
prevailed,  although  he  ^  would  hope  that,  in  Barbados,  it  is  now 
'  comparaticely  rare^'*  which  is  immediately  destructive  of  the 
domestic  ties  and  relations ;  viz. '  the  compulsory  disunion  of  fa- 
'  iniUes  by  either  public  or  private  sale,  the  withdrawing  of 

*  parents  by  violence  from  the  natural  care  of  their  children,  and 

*  the  coerced  and  unauthnrized  separation  (unauthorized  with 

*  reference  to  the  laws  of  God,  not  to  the  laws  of  man)  of  the 

*  hKshand  from  his  acknowledged  ajid  attached  wife.^  Let 
every  Englishman  hear  this.  Let  the  British  peasant,  who  is 
told  by  the  abettor  of  Colonial  slavery,  that  his  lot  is  far  harder 
than  that  of  the  happy  negro  labourer,  learn  this  condition  of  the 
felicity  of  the  slave  ;  that  the  laws  of  the  colonics  tolerate  this 
shameful  abuse,  and  that,  under  the  shelter  of  those  laws,  a 
husband  may  have  his  wife  forcibly  taken  from  him,  and  sold  to 
another  master ;  a  mother  may  have  her  child  snatched  from  her 
for  ever.  Or  should  the  wife  or  the  child  be  sold  to  the  pro- 
prietor of  an  adjacent  estate,  and  the  strength  of  affection  lead 
either  party  to  stray  in  search  of  the  other,  fearful  is  the  penalty 
which  awaits  discovery.  Not  long  ago,  an  advertisement  ap- 
peared in  a  colonial  newspa])er,*  olfering  a  reward  of  ten  dollars 
for  the  recovery  of  a  runaway  negro,  and  containing  this  clause : — 

*  He  is  supposed  to  he  harhound  hy  hi^i  wife.'' 

Another  distinguishing  feature  of  the  state  of  society  in  the 
Colonies,  is  adverted  to  in  the  following  passage.  It  is  often 
pleaded  in  palliation  of  the  atrocious  cases  of  cruelty  that  are 
brought  to  light,  that  they  are  mere  exceptions  of  rare  occurrence, 

♦Antigua  Register,  IMay  21),  UVS2.  Compare  this  advertisement 
with  Deut.  xxiii.  15. 


Eliot  on  Christianity  and  Slavery,  391 

and  that  even  in  this  country,  cases  of  barbarity  and  atrocious 
wickedness  disgrace  the  columns  of  our  daily  newspapers.    True. 

*  In  England,  acts  of  cruelty  are  often  perpetrated.  It  is  the  same 
in  other  parts  of  the  world.  But  in  England,  and  generally  in 
civilized  Europe,  crueltj/  is  punished  by  the  law.  The  offender  is 
dragged  forth  to  public  notice,  and  to  public  abhorrence.  We  must 
allow  that  it  is  not  always  thus  in  our  West  Indian  settlements.  There 
is  an  unworthy  timidity  in  the  merciful  in  exposing  and  in  reprobating 
the  offences  of  the  unmerciful.  Deeds  of  inhumanity  are  allowed  to 
pass  not  only  unpunished,  but,  from  the  veil  which  is  studiously 
thrown  over  them,  often  even  uncensured.  The  evil  rests  not  witn 
the  individual  case  of  oppression.  The  connivers  at  cruelty  share  in 
the  guilt  of  it ;  and  the  guilt  will  inevitably  draw  down  the  displeasure 
of  an  avenging  God.'     p.  142. 

In  the  Appendix,  this  subject  is  again  explicitly  adverted  to. 
The  Author  states,  that  he  would  gladly  have  abstained  from 
noticing  it  at  all,  could  he  have  observed  silence  without  participa- 
ting in  the  guilt  of  connivance.  He  bears  willing  testimony  to 
the  kindness  of  many  proprietors  towards  their  dependants,  but  is 
'  forced  to  declare,  that,  at  times,  acts  of  cruelty  are  committed 
^  in  the  colonies,  without  either  punishment  or  public  censure 
'  falling  on  the  offender.' 

'  The  excuse,'  he  adds,  '  that  the  notice  of  these  crimes  will  give  a 
handle  to  those  who  oppose  the  colonial  interests,  is  worse  than  frivo- 
lous. The  real  charge  against  the  West  Indian  societies  is,  not  that 
cruelties  are  committed  among  them,  (for  to  this  charge  every  society 
is  more  or  less  obnoxious,)  but  that  the  man  who  revels  in  violence  and 
oppression,  has  no  mark  set  upon  him,  and  that  he  is  allowed  to  vaunt 
himself  in  the  land,  without  control  and  without  reproach.  I  am 
aware  of  the  extreme  difficulty  of  bringing  to  justice  the  perpetrators 
of  cruel  deeds  in  the  West  Indies.  The  laws  are  in  most  cases  de- 
fective in  affording  protection  to  the  bondsman  ;  and  even  where  the 
laws  might  be  enforced  to  check  or  punish  an  act  of  oppression,  we  have 
incurred  the  reproach,  that  the  fear  of  becoming  unpopular  in  the  com- 
munity deters  many  a  person  from  prosecuting  the  offender,  or  from 
appearing  as  a  voluntary  witness  against  him.  These  things  ought 
not  to  lie.  I  am  sure  that  I  am  a  friend  to  our  colonies  in  thus  pub- 
licly noticing  and  reprobating  the  evil.'     pp.  231,  232. 

Another  abuse  slightly  and  incidentally  adverted  to,  is  the 
difficulty  thrown  in  the  way  of  the  slave's  procuring  his  own 
manumission.  The  apologists  for  slavery  sometimes  appeal  to 
Old  Testament  precedents.  Now  one  of  the  provisions  of  the 
Levitical  law  is,  that  in  case  of  a  person^s  selling  himself  into 
bondage,  *  any  that  is  nigh  of  kin  to  him  of  his  family  may  re- 
*  deem  him,  or,  if  he  be  able,  he  may  redeem  himself."*  (Levit. 
XXV.  48,  49.)  'It  was  no  part  of  the  religion  of  Christ,'  Mr.  Eliot 
remarks,  *  to  interfere  with  the  existing  institutions  of  society.' 

3c2 


392  Eliot  an  CkrUiianiiy  and  Sliwerjf. 

Still,  St.  Paul  has  distinctly  intimated  his  views  of  the  subject, 
in  forbidding  the  Christian  freeman  to  become  a  slave,  and  in 
teaching  the  Christian  slave  to  obtain,  if  possible,  hia  own  manu- 
mission. ^  If  thou  mayst  be  free,  use  it  rather.**  1  Cor.  viL  21. 
Connecting  this  passage  with  the  one  above  dted  from  Levidcui, 
where  freedom  is  unreservedly  granted  to  the  Jewish  slave  when- 
ever he  could  purchase  himself;  and  subjoining  the  great  Chris- 
tian obli^tion  which  requires  us  to  do  to  another,  that  which  we 
should  wish  to  be  done  to  ourselves  under  similar  circumstances ; 
tHe  inference,  the  Preacher  maintains,  may  fairly  be  deduced, 
Hfiat  the  possessor  of  slaves  is  bound,  on  Christian  principlef,  to- 

*  grant,  unhesitatingly,  freedom  to  his  dependents,  wnenever  thcj 

*  or  their  friends  are  able  to  purchase  it.**    ^  The  detention  ofanjf 

*  one  in  slavery  who  is  willing  and  able  to  redeem  himael/9  how- 
^  ever  it  may  be  sanctioned  by  the  usage  of  earlier  Umes^  is  pro- 
nounced to  be  ^  religiously  and  morally  ut^fusf*  A  '  Aope*  is 
expressed  that  few  masters  professsing  the  Christian  fidtfa  would 
now  refuse  to  admit  this  conclusion.  But  what  say  existing  law 
and  existing  usage  on  the  subject  of  manumission  ?.  This  ques- 
tion receives  an  indirect  answer  from  a  note,  in  which  Mr.  EUot 
combats  the  leading  objections  still  urged  against  what  is  termed 
compulsory  manumission.  One  of  these  noUow  objections  bss 
already  been  noticed^  vis.  that  it  ^  would  open  the  door  to  illicit 
^  concubinage  ;■  others  equallv  fiitile  are  briefly  referred  to,  which 
we  need  not  mention ;  but  the  following  remarks  are  highly  im- 
portant in  their  bearing  upon  general  emancipation.. 

'  It  is  assumed,  that  the  slaves  will  become  idle  on  obtaining  their 
freedom;  but  this  is  mere  assumption.  The  reixut  of  the  privr  coondl 
(1 788)  speaks,  on  the  authority  of  witnesses  from  the  oritiah  Wert 
India  islands,  of  the  '^  invincible  repugnance  of  the  free  negroes  to  tSX 
sorts  of  labour."  Messrs.  Fuller,  Long,  and  Chisholm  declare,  that 
*'  free  negroes  are  never  known  to  work  for  hire,  and  that  they  ha^ 
all  the  vices  of  the  slaves."  IVIr.  Brathwaite  states,  that  **  if  the  alavn 
in  Barbados  were  all  offered  their  freedom  on  condition  of  wwrldag  for 
themselves,  not  one  tenth  of  them  would  accept  it."  Gkivenior  Any 
reports,  that  '^  free  negroes  are  utterly  destitute  of  industry  ;**  and  tliie 
council  of  the  island  add,  that  "  from  their  confirmed  hamta  of  idle- 
ness they  are  the  pests  of  society." — Report,  1788,  part  3. 

'  Strange,  that  in  the  face  of  these  dedarationsy  r"^w«>H»pg  fxtmk 
persons  in  high  otficial  trust  and  authority,  the  free  blades  hav^  bf 
their  superior  industry,  driven  the  lower  order  of  whites  from  almoit 
every  trade  requiring  skill  and  continued  exertion.  I  believe  that  not 
one  in  twenty  of  the  working  shoemakers  in  Barbados  ia  a  white  man. 
The  working  carpenters,  masons,  tailors,  smiths,  &c.  are  for  the  most 
part  men  of  colour  ;  and  this  at  a  time  when  a  large  white  population 
are  in  the  lowest  state  of  poverty  and  wretchedness.  In  the  appli- 
cation for  casual  charity  the  number  of  white  persons  solidting  relief 
is  far  greater  than  that  of  the  free  coloured.     The  free  black  and  ok 


Eliot  on  Christianity  and  Slavery,  393 

kmred  inhabitants  have  always  contributed  in  their  full  proportion  to 
the  parochial  taxes,  for  the  support  of  the  poor  whites  ;  while  their 
own  poor  receire  no  parochial  relief,  but  are  supported  by  private  con- 
tributions among  the  more  wealthy  of  their  own  colour.  Do  these 
fticts  indicate  habits  of  irreclaimable  idleness  ?  '     pp.  225,  6. 

*  It  may  be  said,  that  in  these  isolated  cases  of  manumission  the 
person  enfranchised  will  pass  at  once  from  the  field  to  some  domestic 
or  handicraft  employment ;  and  that  if  the  practice  be  widely  extended, 
it  will  subtract  immediately  from  the  required  cultivation  of  the  soil. 

*  I  must  allow  that  agricultural  labour  is  in  great  disrepute  in  the 
West  Indies.  It  is  not  so  in  other  countries,  for  we  often  find  even 
tiie  well  educated  and  the  affluent  delighting  in  the  cultivation  of  a 
garden  or  in  the  ruder  employmentsof  a  farm.  In  the  West  Indies, 
field  labour  is  always  associated  with  the  whip  aud  the  driver,  and 
other  tokens  of  personal  degradation  ;  we  therefore  cannot  wonder  that 
it  18  generally  snunned. 

'  The  first  step  towards  the  removal  of  the  existing  dislike  to  this 
species  of  employment  is,  to  engage  the  great  mass  of  our  population  in 
a  kind  of  voluntary  field  labour,  of  which  the  profits  may  to  a  certain 
extent  perceptibly  accrue  to  themselves.  To  work  spontaneously,  and 
£or  our  own  immediate  benefit,  is  the  distinctive  character  of  free- 
dom  Would  they  be  likely,  after  having  earned  so  many  and 

great  advantages  by  field  labour,  to  regard  it  with  dissatisfaction,  and 
to  consider  themselves  de<^raded  by  following  their  former  occupation  ? 
Would  they  not  rather,  if  the  permission  were  allowed  them,  continue 
to  work  for  their  masters  as  tenants  on  the  estate,  receiving  either 
wages  in  money  for  their  labour,  or  a  portion  of  the  produce  of  the 
land  !  /  believe  the  present  condition  qjf  the  sugar-plantations  in  those 
States  of  South  America  which  have  granted  entire  freedom  to  their 
Miaves,  mill  furnish  a  satisfactory  answer  to  these  questions.' 

pp.  229,  230. 

We  must  not  conceal,  that  Archdeacon  Eliot,  notwithstanding 
'  the  enlightened  view  which  he  takes  of  the  injustice  and  inhu- 
manity of  slavery,  is  an  advocate  for  a  bit  by  bit  emancipation, 
such  as  the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel  in  Foreign 
Parts  would  dole  out  to  the  slaves  on  their  estates  ;  (Shame  on 
the  slave-holding  Society  which  bears  the  scandalous  misnomer !) 
and  we  regret  to  add,  pleads  also  for  the  most  unjustifiable  species 
of  compensation,— compensation  from  the  injured  party,  the  slave, 
to  his  unjust  possessor.  He  proposes  that  tne  slave  should  have 
the  power  of  buying  off  his  servitude  by  degrees  at  a  fair  remu- 
nerating price ;  a  plan  which  would  serve  only  to  perpetuate  the- 
slavery  of  the  mass.  In  another  part  of  the  note,  he  represents  ■ 
the  sanction  so  long  afforded  by  Great  Britain  to  the  slave-trade, 
and  the  recognition  by  law  of  this  species  of  property,  as  ^  for- 
bidding the  withdrawal  of  the  services  of  the  slave  from  the 
master  by  a  compulsory  enactment,  without  some  adequate  com- 
pensation.^ Whatever  force  there  may  be  in  this  consideration, 
it  cannot  affect  the  claim  of  the  slave :  he  was  no  party  to  those 


394?  Eliot  on  Christianity  and  Slavery. 

infamous  statutes,  legalizing  piracy  and  murder ;  he  can  owe  no 
compensation.  But  let  it  be  considered,  that  if  the  recognition 
by  law  of  the  fact  of  slave- property  could  legitimate  it,  the  slave- 
trade,  which  is  now  declared  to  be  piracy,  was  equally  recognized 
and  sanctioned  by  law.  On  the  legislative  abolition  of  that  ne- 
farious traffic,  a  similar  claim  to  compensation  was  set  up,  on 
similar  grounds,  but  was  never  substantiated.  The  abolition  of 
slavery  would  not  necessarily  withdraw  the  services  of  the  slave 
from  the  master  ;  and  therefore,  the  claim  for  compensation  rests 
upon  a  false  pretence.  The  only  loss  the  owner  would  sustain, 
would  be  a  loss  of  power,  not  of  property ;  and  for  a  loss  of  power, 
he  is  entitled  to  no  compensation.  It  is  true,  that  the  slave  is  now 
saleable,  and  that,  if  emancipated,  his  price  would  be  annihilated. 
But  this  effect  would  equally  result  from  a  law  forbidding  the  sale 
of  slaves :  would  that  afford  any  ground  for  a  claim  to  compens- 
ation ?  Fairly  considered,  emancipation  carries  compensation 
with  it  to  a  certain  extent ;  since,  while  it  annihilates  a  certain 
portion  of  capital,  it  relieves,  to  an  equivalent  extent,  irom  a 
burden.  The  only  benefit  of  capital  is  derived  from  its  repro- 
ductive power.  Now  when  the  slave  ceases  to  be  capital  to  his 
owner,  he  does  not  cease  to  be  productive  to  his  employer ;  on 
the  contrary,  his  labour  proves  more  productive  than  before.  Is 
not  this  compensation  ? 

The  notion  on  which  this  fallacious  claim  to  compensation  is 
founded,  is  simply  this  ;  that  a  man  cannot  justly  be  deprived  of 
what  he  has  purchased,  or  inherited  as  a  purchase,  without  being 
remunerated  in  money.  But  how  frequently  is  the  value  of  fixed 
capital,  in  which  large  sums  have  been  sunk,  deteriorated  or  de- 
stroyed by  the  changes  to  which  all  branches  of  productive  in- 
dustry are  liable,  without  the  possibility  of  compensation  !  In 
such  cases,  the  hardship  is  often  very  great,  and  the  loss  ruinous. 
In  the  case  of  the  West  India  planter,  the  loss  would  eventually 
be  a  gain  ;  for,  in  the  services  of  the  free  labourer,  he  would  have 
more  than  an  equivalent. 

But  we  cannot  consent  to  argue  the  question  as  one  of  property. 
The  answer  which  Mr.  Eliot  gives  to  the  objection  supposed  to 
be  urged  against  the  faithful  admonitions  of  the  preacher,  that 
'  it  becomes  not  the  minister  of  the  Gospel  to  interfere  with  the 
*  rights  of  private  property **,  is  a  sufficient  reply  when  those  rights 
are  |)lcade(i  as  a  bar  to  legislative  interference.  *  In  all  ordinaij 
'  cases  \  remarks  Mr.  Eliot,  *  this  would  be  true;  but  ii  applies 
'  not  to  the  subject  under  onr  present  consideration^  for  the 
'  property  here  is  Man.** 

I  would  meet,  however,'  conlinues  the  Preacher,  'the  arguments  of 
even  the  most  mercenary  of  proprietors ;  of  those  among  us  whose 
thoughts  are  ever  buried  in  the  sordid  computation  of  prolit  and  loss; 
and  I  could  shcw^  that  whenever  the  slaves  under  our  treatment  are 


Eliot  on  Christianity  and  Slavery.  395 

enfeebled  in  constitution,  dissatisfied  in  temper^  and  deficient  in  the 
natural  increase  of  population — whenever  they  are  debarred  from  the 
legitimate  comforts  and  privileges  of  social  life,  and  the  right  is  denied 
them  of  obtaining  freedom  through  their  own  industry,  or  that  of  their 
relations  and  friends — whenever  their  minds  are  debased  by  ignorance, 
and  they  are  brought  to  a  level  with  the  beasts  that  perish — untaught 
in  their  religious  duties,  and  excluded  from  all  knowledge  of  the  sal- 
vation offered  in  the  gospel  through  Jesus  Christ — then  will  our  inter- 
ests proportionably  decline.  Distress,  and  poverty,  and  perhaps  in 
the  end  entire  and  absolute  ruin,  will  be  dealt  out  to  us  as  a  just  retri- 
bution in  this  life ;  and  in  the  life  to  come,  what  answer  can  we  make^ 
when  called  on  to  give  an  account  of  our  stewardship  ?  *     p.  1 47- 

Our  readers  will  judge  whether  these  remarks,  intended  to  ap- 
ply only  to  the  present  treatment  of  the  slaves  in  the  West  India 
Colonies,  will  not  with  equal  appropriateness  and  force  apply  to 
the  holding  men  in  slavery,  of  which  such  treatment  is  found  to 
be  the  invariable  accompaniment,  as  it  is  the  natural  conse- 
quence. 

The  last  lecture,  *  Souls  not  Saleable,**  is  the  most  striking  and 
impressive  of  the  series.  It  places  in  the  strongest  light,  the  im- 
piety of  the  slave-owner''s  claim  and  the  atrocious  guilt  of  the 
prevailing  practice.  Whatever  property  the  law  may  give  the 
owner  in  the  sinews  and  muscles  of  the  slaves,  he  has  not  bought 
their  souls ;  and  yet,  over  these,  he  claims  to  exercise  the  most 
infernal  tyranny. 

'  That  the  laws  tolerate  the  bodily  subjection  of  man  to  man,*  says 
Mr.  Eliot,  *  I  readily  admit ;  but  the  enactments  which  have  been 
made  by  human  authority  with  a  view  to  secure  the  proprietary  right 
of  a  master  to  the  services  of  his  slave,  could  never  have  contemplated 
the  surrender  of  the  soul  of  man  into  the  hands  of  his  fellow-man. 
They  may  have  given  absolute  and  uncontrolled  power  over  the  body, 
— even  to  the  deprivation  of  life ;  but  they  can  never  sanction  the 
right  to  seize  on  the  soul  for  a  possession,  and  to  barter  the  eternal 
interests  of  the  bondsman  for  money.' — pp.  154,  5. 

But  *  is  the  slave  a  free  agent  in  the  services  required  from  the 

*  creature  to  the  Creator  ?     Is  there  no  constraint  on  the  soul, 

*  arising  out  of  the  mistaken  views  of  the  extent  to  which  the 
'  recognized  bondage  of  the  body  gives  authority  to  the  pro- 
'  prietor  over  his  servants  ?  "*  The  following  is  Mr.  Eliot''8  reply 
to  these  pertinent  and  significant  questions. 

*  When  services  are  required  which  involve  an  unavoidable  violation 
of  the  sabbath — whether  it  be  directly  for  the  benefit  of  the  master, 
or  for  the  more  immediate  and  necessary  support  of  the  slave,— or 
when  encouragement  is  given  to  the  sale  and  barter  of  goods,  or  to  the 
public  dance  on  the  Lord's  day,  on  the  plea  that  no  other  time  can  be 
spared  for  these  purposes,  it  may  with  truth  be  affirmed,  that  the 


396  TJmk  ca  Ctrvf/ifun^  mmd  Slsrefj, 


yfr/r^^x  t.^  r»Liz  'nidi  'zjvA  TpAC  r23i»  vaick  trcadb  «■  tlicir  tniritBil 
v*iVarT.  A.-ui  ><^a.  -vbea  ia«  ordznaaee  of  ■■rriii^  is  dnoH»» 
t^^r.r^:  r^ci-^%^  tM  4«x^r  off  ^larnei  k  afiaid  tlvt  hii  worMlj  n- 
vt«^,%  rr-a-:  ^7-.if<r  b^  :t4  Twoeixfriaii ;  aad  all  tlw  crDs  of  an  anU- 

'  '  —         * 

Jr,rr*fi  tyx-jrr^>\zjifpt  tr^  ttactiooed.  bfcanie  it  is  decHMd  to  be  a  itite 
iryir<t  ;n  c/>r.f'MT&itr  vitr.  ibvxate  Mrritnde  tbaa  the  tolami  and  iadi^ 
vm'>«>  W.d  -xr.icA  <:nitei  thote  vho  are  of  fiice  eoodition;  I  cauMt 
but  vim  it  th^t  tr.«  ^lare  U  dinctlr  predoded  finan  «ibeTii^  the 
rr.^nH^  of  th^  Alrr.ijrhtj,  and  that  the  master  is  eaeicisiiig 
and  I  mna  add,  if  I  am  to  regiJate  mj  i  HiifsiMMH  hr  the  laws  rf 
Grid,  rkth*tT  than  br  the  opiniooA  of  man,  an  onanthanaed^  a  siafnl 
rjfjttrh]  uvfiT  the  s/mis  of  KU  dependents. 

'  J%  he  called  rm  by  the  authorized  minister  of  God's  ward,  to  iDov 
the  youn^  and  i<rncif  ant  fm  his  plantation  to  be  instnicted,  ao  that  tbe 
darkne%ii  '^  heathenism  may  give  place  to  the  light  of  the  gospd?... 
If '-ar  the  rejily  which  the  master  who  claims  an  absolute  right  totheaoob 
fif  hift  Klaven  will  confidently  rnake^  nur  triii  his  practice  vary  from  iii 
"  J  f*an  afford  neither  the  time  nor  the  money  for  tbe  instmction  cf 
fny  ]n:o]Ae,  nor  am  1  scnHible  that  a  knowledge  of  tbe  goapel  traths 
Tvdl  add  io  Iheir  value.  I  object  to  their  being  taught  to  read,  be- 
catike  tliey  will  acquire  a  knowledge  which  is  calculated  to  raise  tbem 
uUivc  tliirir  preHcnt  condition,  and  to  inspire  them  with  hopes  of  ad- 
vancirrncnt  in  Hr>ciety>  I  object  to  it  also^  because  they  may  readbooki 
of  an  injuriouH  tf^ndency,  and  may  learn  to  be  dissatisfied  with  tbe  erih 

alnumt  inH4*p»rabh*  from  servitude" Would  he  thus  think  andaeti 

if  )h;  were  brought  to  regard  the  dependent  as  maHer  ^  kis  ova 
MONi,  and  as  under  an  obligation  to  provide  for  its  everlasting  welfare?' 

pp.  1&— 173. 

VV(*  heard  it  adduced,  tlie  other  day,  in  proof  that  slave-hdd- 
ing  M'UH  not  forbidden  by  ('hristianity,  that  St  Paul,  in  writing 
to  IMiilenioii  on  Indialf  of  Oncsimus,  a  runaway  slaTe,  styles  Ui 
inantor,  thotigh  a  Hlavo-owncr,  his  beloved  brother  and  mlow  la- 
bourer. We  could  not  but  admire  the  specious  ingenuity  of  die 
argument ;  it  reuiinded  un  of  the  dexterity  of  the  Tempter  in  his 
nppeal  to  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures — ^^  it  is  writienJ^  But 
what  else  in  written  in  tbe  E])i8tle  to  Philemon  ?  ^*  Receive  him 
(bat  in  i\s  my  own  nou  ;  ^  (such  is  the  obvious  import  of  the 
phniNe,  ^i  ruti  (T'-TXayx^'^v  referring  to  his  having  been  converted 
l«)  the  ClirlNtian  faith,  or  regenerated,  by  the  preaching  of  St 
Paul ;) — ''  n«t  longer  h»  a  servant  (or  slave),  but  above  a  servant, 
a  brother  ludtned.  If  thou  consider  me  as  a  companion,  receive 
liiu)  as  unself/*  Our  modeni  Pbilemons  of  Barbados  or  Ja- 
\\\s\wA  nouVl  consider  this  as  strange  language  to  be  held  respect- 
ing t»ne  of  tlieir  slaves.  If  one  of  their  runaways,  having 
Uvome  lui]Uisixl  and  eonvertixl  to  the  faith,  were  sent  badi  to  his 
iua>ter»  by  a  rhristian  minister,  with  tbe  exhortation,  ^  Foqpve 
liiuK  riHvivo  him  now  as  no  longer  a  slave,  but  a  brother,'*— it  is 
not  difficult  to  anuci)>Ato  the  manner  in  which  both  the 


Whychcotte  of  St  John's,  89? 

and  its  bearer  would  be  treated.  Of  all  parts  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, a  joro-slavery  advocate  would  do  well  to  keep  clear  of  the 
Epistle  to  Philemon,  which  teaches  such  monstrous  doctrine  as 
that  the  Christian  slave  is  to  be  viewed  by  his  master  as  a  bro- 
ther, a  brother  beloved.  Let  the  Christian  planters  so  regard 
and  so  treat  their  Onesimuses,  and  we  will  own  them  to  be  Phi- 
lemons  indeed. 

We  have  recently  shewn  •,  however,  that  the  Roman  servitude 
differed  so  essentially  from  the  colonial  slavery  of  our  own  times, 
that  to  confound  them  under  a  common  names  and  then  to  reason 
from  the  presumed  lawfulness  of  the  one  to  the  lawfulness  of  the 
other,  is  a  mere  artifice  ;  an  attempt  to  build  an  argument  upon 
a  pure  fallacy.  Onesimus  was  a  bond  servant  (Joi/Xof,  servus)^ 
but  not  an  ergastulus^  a  field-slave.  Had  Christianity  directly 
prohibited  the  domestic  bondage  of  the  Romans,  it  would  vir- 
tually have  forbidden  the  Christians  of  those  days  to  have  any 
servants  at  all.  But  while  it  abstained  from  interfering  with 
either  the  political  or  the  domestic  institutions  of  any  nation,  it 
classed  the  man-stealer  with  the  murderer,  the  parricide,  the  most 
flagitious  criminal  "f* ;  and  addressed  the  oppressor  of  the  la- 
bourer in  language  which  might  well  make  the  Christian  tyrants 
of  the  colonies  tremble :  "  Behold,  the  hire  of  the  labourers  who 
have  reaped  down  your  fields,  which  is  unjustly  kept  back  by  you, 
crieth  out ;  and  the  cries  of  the  reapers  have  entered  into  the 
ears  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts."§ 


Art.  IIL  Whychcotte  of  St.  John's;  or  the  Court,  the  Camp,  the 
Qoarter-deck^  and  the  Cloister.  Two  Volumes,  12mo.  London, 
1833. 

TTNDER  a  title  which  looks  too  much  like  a  bookseller^s  puff 
to  lead  us  to  expect  much  that  is  substantial  in  the  work  it- 
self, these  volumes  contain  a  collection  of  very  clever  and  enter- 
taining original  papers.  In  the  getting  up  of  the  volumes,  there 
18^  indeed,  a  palpable  air  of  book -making ;  and  the  publication 
lias  altogedier  the  appearance  of  a  catch-penny.  We  must  say 
too,  that  we  cannot  entirely  applaud  the  taste  displayed  in  the 
concoction  of  the  materials.  Tiie  liberty  that  is  taKcn  with  living 
characters,  is  scarcely  allowable ;  although  the  writer  may  plead 
m  exteauatioD,  that  his  portraits  are  generally  those  of  the  pa- 
negyrist, not  of  the  satirist.       We  know  not  what  Profewer 


*  Eclectic  for  April.     Art.  Blair  rni  the  Roman  Slavery. 
f  1  Tim.  L  10.  §  James  v.  4* 

TOL.  IX. — K.s.  3  D 


398  Whychcotte  of  St.  John'g. 

Smythe  will  say  at  having  his  lectures  and  conversations  surrep- 
titiously reported.  We  wish  that  it  might  provoke  him  to  puD- 
lish  in  self-defence.  Whatever  fault,  however,  we  may  find  with 
the  author  or  supposed  redacteur  of  these  Whychcotte  papers, 
on  these  or  other  grounds,  we  cannot  refuse  to  do  him  the  justice 
of  admitting,  that  we  have  been  much  amused  with  his  biogra- 
phical sketches,  not  a  little  interested  by  his  stories  and  anecdotes, 
and  often  well  })lcascd  with  the  good  sense  of  his  graver  observa- 
tions. Wc  should  suspect  him  to  be  an  indolent  man  of  talent, 
capable  of  producing  far  better  things.  He  has  evidently  (not- 
withstanding his  choice  of  a  pubUsher)  received  his  education  and 
formed  his  opinions  in  the  Tory  school ;  and  his  partialities  be- 
speak him  to  be  a  real  Cantab.  We  honour  tiis  counigeoiu 
frankness  in  lauding  Bishops  Marsh  and  Phillpotts,  the  two  least 
popular  prelates  on  the  bench,  although  we  cannot  sympathise  in 
his  admiration  either  of  the  Author  of  the  Seventy-three  Ques- 
tions, or  of  '  the  active  and  acute  political  bishop,^  *the  Clerical 
*  Chesterfield'* — and  Proteus.  As  we  do  not  share  in  the  Wri- 
ter's partialities  and  opinions,  he  will  consider  himself,  we  hope, 
the  more  honoured  by  our  good  opinion. 

An  ^  introductory  memoir,''  by  no  means  the  least  engaging 
part  of  the  work,  but  very  slenderly  related  to  the  subsequent 
papers,  describes  the  character  of  Aylmer  Whychcotte,  of  whom 
his  tutor  argued  but  too  prophetically :  ^  he  has  talent  enough  for 
^  any  thing ;  he  will  attain  nothing.^  The  portrait  is  evidently 
from  the  life,  and  conveys  an  instructive  lesson.  But  alas! 
wronghcadedness  is,  in  most  instances,  incurable.  The  next  pa- 
per introduces  us  to  the  Cambridge  Professor  of  Modem  History. 

'  Whether  it  be  the  peculiar  beauty  of  his  style,  or  the  noble,  and 
generous,  and  elevated  sentiments  which  his  Lectures  embody,— or  the 
feeling  with  which  they  are  uttered, — or  the  singular  felicity  with 
which  he  sustains  the  unflagging  interest  and  attention  of  his  youthful 
auditory, — or  to  all  these  circumstances  combined,— certain  it  is,  that 
no  professor  ever  conciliated  or  retained,  in  a  higher  d^pree,  the  aflee- 
tionate  regard  of  those  who,  year  after  year,  have  attended  his  Lec- 
tures. 

'  For  him,  even  the  idle  will  rise  an  hour  earlier,  rather  than  line 
the  lecture.  For  him,  the  gay,  rather  than  fbreso  ^e  fund  of  inform- 
ation that  awaits  them,  will  desert  their  late  breiuc£ut  party,  or  decline 
it  altogether. 

'  He  is  precisely  the  sort  of  lecturer  to  influence  the  auditory  he 
addresses.  His  object  is,  invariably  and  unweariedly,  to  inspire  uiCBi 
with  elevated  sentiments  and  enlarged  vie^v8 — to  lead  them  to  regard 
with  distrust,  men  of  sweeping  measures  and  daring  experiments — to 
teach  them  to  look  for  the  securitv  of  a  country  in  the  lenity  and  jusdoe 
of  its  administration — to  think  all  vain  but  affection  and  hononr  —the 
simplest  and  cheapest  pleasures,  the  truest  and  most  precious — to  im- 
press on  them,  that  virtue  herself  is  becoming,  and  the  pursuit  of  troth 


Whychcotte  of  St.  John's.  399 

rational — and  that  generosity  of  sentiment  is  the  only  mental  acquire- 
nent  which  is  either  to  be  wished  for  or  admired. 

*  Rarely  does  a  lecture  close  without  containing  in  it  some  reference 
to  man's  higher  destiny  and  the  magnificent  visions  of  Christian  hope; 
Bpart  from  which  his  existence  is  a  riddle,  and  his  trials  unmeaning. 

*  One  is  at  this  instant  present  to  me. — He  had  been  lecturing  on 
the  Flight  to  Varennes :  and,  in  alluding  to  the  various  accounts 
which  had  been  given  of  that  unfortunate  enterprise,  took  occasion  to 
notice  the  difficulties  and  distrust  which  certain  sceptics  have  at- 
tempted to  throw  over  the  mission  of  our  Lord,  from  certain  discre- 
pancies, omissions,  and  apparent  inconsistencies,  in  the  accounts  of  the 
four  Evangelists.  "  Paley,  that  most  sensible  writer,  has  noticed  these 
attempts,  and  has  most  completely  and  triumphantly  refuted  them. 
If  the  argument  which  Paine  and  Hume  have  applied  to  the  writers 
of  the  four  Gospels — which  are  strictly  and  properly  Memoirs  of  the 
Life  and  Sufferings  of  our  Saviour — be  applied  to  the  narratives  of 
writers  on  the  French  Revolution,  we  are  bound  to  infer,  upon  their 
principle,  that  no  such  event  as  the  French  Revolution  has  ever  oc- 
curred! 

'  "  Discrepancies,  contradictions,  omissions,  inconsistencies,  present 
themselves,  which  it  is  impossible  to  reconcile  or  overlook.  Take,  for 
an  instance,  the  fact  of  the  Flight  to  Varennes.  The  queen  is  repre- 
sented, in  one  account,  as  leaving  the  palace  leaning  on  the  arm  of 
Monsieur  de  Moulins :  in  another,  as  leaning  on  the  arm  of  M.  de 
Mallery :  by  a  third  writer  it  is  asserted  positively,  that  she  quitted  it 
alone.  Yet  from  this,  are  we  to  imagine  that  the  queen  did  not  leave 
it  at  all  ? 

'  *'  Again :  one  account  states  confidently,  that  M.  de  Bouille  was 
wounded  in  the  side  and  in  the  shoulder.  Monsieur  de  Damas  says, 
that  he  was  wounded  only  in  the  breast.  A  third  writer  affirms,  that 
his  sole  injury  was  that  of  a  slight  contusion  on  the  head.  The  fact  of 
his  ill-treatment  and  butchery  is  beyond  dispute. 

*  "  Again :  one  writer  of  considerable  authority  says,  that  the  queen 
was  recognized,  at  St.  Menehould,  by  Drouet's  son :  another,  that  she 
was  observed  by  Drouet  himself.  In  detailing  the  several  features  of 
this  disastrous  undertaking,  one  historian  afhrms,  that  Drouet  entered 
the  town  of  Clermont ;  another^  that  he  passed  by  it ;  a  third,  that  he 
rode  into  Varennes  alone ;  a  fourth,  that  his  son  was  with  him ;  a 
fifth— and  this  is  the  true  account — that  he  was  accompanied  by  a 
friend.  Yet,  of  his  detection  of  the  royal  party — of  his  journey  to 
and  arrival  at  Varennes — there  can  exist  no  doubt.  All  these  are 
matters  of  indisputable  truth.  Yet  is  it  on  points  slight  and  imma- 
terial as  these,  tnat  the  veracity  of  the  Gospel  narratives  has  been  at- 
tempted to  be  overthrown,  and  the  reality  of  our  Saviour's  existence 
impugned  I ' "    pp.  2 — 7» 


'  You  would  like  to  see  him  ?  We  are  late :  it  wants  but  one 
minute  to  ten.  Away  to  the  anatomical  schools.  Here,  in  this  dark, 
dingy  lecture-room,  nis  little  black  mahogany  stand  placed  straight 
before  him,  his  right  arm  a  little  extended,  the  left  resting  on  the 

3  D  2 


400  WhychcQtte  of  St  John's, 

gxnall  portfolio  which  contains  his  lectaret-— hb  whole  •ppcaraiice  in* 
dicating  the  gentleman  of  the  old  school^  but  strongly  characteristie  ol 
extreme  honhommie  and  kindness  of  disposition— stands  the  pt^mlsr 
Professor.  Hark !  he  has  just  finished  some  brilliant  passage^e  part 
of  his  well  known  lecture  on  Maria  Theresa: — Who  that  has  heard  it 
can  ever  forget  it  ?— or  has  summed  up  his  elaborate  analysis  of  Fre- 
derick the  Great — or  has  closed  his  exquisite  portraiture  oH  the  ibUiss 
and  sorrows  of  the  unfortunate  Antoinette,  and  a  murmur  of  applaoM 
which  they  cared  not  or  could  not  control^  has  burst  from  his  delighted 
auditory. 

'  Take  another  view.  You  see  that  tall  and  some^vhat  gaunt  figure 
in  a  green  coat  and  black  velvet  collar^  bright  buff  waistcoat,  Imes 
breeches,  and  white  cotton  stockings,  powdered,  with  round  shonlden^ 
and  rather  a  stoop  in  his  gait — yes,  he  that  is  stridine  away  before  as 
on  the  Truuipington  Walk,  witn  his  hands  behind  him — bia  master's 
gown  curiously  tucked  up  into  a  roll,  and  most  unceremooiously  dis- 
posed of,  as  if  it  fettered  the  motions  of  the  wearer^  and  was  aa 
appendage  he  would  gladly  dispense  with — there  goes  the  boast  of 
Feterhouse,  totally  abstracted  from  the  present,  and  revelling  in  recol- 
lections of  the  past. 

'  His  voice  is  peculiar.  Your  first  impressions  of  it  aie  unfaToorw 
able ;  that  it  is  harsh,  wiry,  thin,  and  inharmonions.  Yet,  ao  ooai« 
pletely  does  he  identify  himself  with  his  subjectj  that  those  paimpi 
which'  require  irony  or  pathos;  lofty  indignation,  or  winning  intrcaty; 
cutting  rebuke,  or  generous  pity,  are  delivered  with  a  truui,  a  firej  a 
force,  and  feeling,  which  set  criticism  at  defiance*'    pp.  11— -13. 

We  are  then  favoured  with  a  few  specimens  of  the  Profesaor^s 
style  of  lecturing,  taken  down  in  a  note-book  in  the  lectore- 
room.  They  are  ^  not  hazarded  with  the  intention  of  giving  an 
^  adequate  and  complete  idea  ^  of  the  force  and  eloquence  of  the 
original;  and  the  charm  of  delivery  is  wanting.  Still,  our 
readers  will  agree  with  us,  that  these  stolen  morceaux  are  aamples 
of  no  ordinary  compositions.  We  must  make  room  for  a  few 
passages. 

'  Louis  XIV.— lie  was  in  some  respects  unfortunate*  He  became  a 
ruler  of  the  earth  when  quite  an  infant.  His  education  was  neglected. 
His  ruling  passion  was  vanity — the  mere  love  of  praise.  He  was  an 
actor.  lie  was  eternally  uneasy  and  anxious  for  an  audience.  He 
was  incessantly  desirous  to  exhibit.  At  his  levees — in  his  drawing- 
room — on  his  terrace — at  his  meals — he  was  ever  acting  the  grand 
Eosture-mukcr  of  Europe.  Throughout  the  whole  of  the  rojral  day  he 
ad  his  exits  and  his  entrances.  It  was  for  ever  a  drama,  and  the  nero 
of  the  piece  was  Louis.  Even  at  the  chapel  it  was  the  **  grand  mo- 
narque  "  at  his  devotions.  No  ideas,  however  overwhelming,  no  ap- 
prehension (»f  the  sanctity  of  the  Being  he  was  addressing,  seems  wt 
one  instant  to  have  banished  from  his  view,  the  tinsel  trumpery  of  hu- 
man grandeur.  Yet  his  age  was  very  famous.  Several  master  ajnrits 
lived  in  it ;  and  the  splendour  of  their  ivorks  has  been  reflected  bad[ 
upon  the  age  and  history  of  Louis.     Turcnnc,  Villcroy,  Vendom^  aod 


Whychcotte  of  St.  JohnV  401 

the  great  Cond^^  were  his  generals :  Richelieu  and  Mazarine  were  his 
statesmen :  Le  Notre  laid  out  his  grounds :  he  had  Perreau  for  the 
architect  of  his  palaces^  and  Le  Poussin  to  decorate  them :  CorneiUe 
and  Racine  wrote  his  tragedies :  Moliere  his  comedies :  Bourda1oue> 
Bossuet^  and  Massillon,  were  his  ministers.  What  could  he  desire 
more  ?  I  have  already  alluded  to  his  appetite  for  praise.  Out  of 
forty-nine  years, — these  hounded  his  reign, — ^he  had  twenty-nine  years 
of  war.  One  million  of  men  were  sacrificed.  A  succession  of  battles 
was  to  be  fought,  attended  with  the  most  frightful  carnage ;  the  ten- 
der were  to  mourn,  and  the  brave  were  to  die ;  that  Louis  might  be 
called  "  Great !  " 

'  At  the  close  of  his  life,  when  the  pageantry  of  power  was  about  to 
oease  for  ever,  he  seems  to  have  been  first  sensible  that  he  had  mis- 
taken the  first  duties  of  a  sovereign.  "  My  son,"  said  he  on  his  death- 
bed to  the  Dauphin,  ''  cultivate  peace  as  the  source  of  the  greatest 
flood.  Avoid  war  as  the  source  of  the  greatest  evil.  My  example  in 
Siis  respect  has  not  been  a  good  one.  Do  not  imitate  it.  It  is  this 
part  of  my  reign  that  I  most  regret."  ' 

'  Louis  XV. — You  will  be  disappointed  that  there  is  no  good  his- 
tory of  this  reign  to  which  I  can  refer  you.  It  has  not  yet  been  writ- 
ten as  a  portion  of  French  history.  Duclos  deserts  us  just  about  the 
period  at  which  we  have  arrived.  /  have  announced  and  must  con* 
tinue  io  annouHce  to  ye  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  a  prelude  to  the  French 
revolution.  The  chief  points  in  the  foreign  politics  of  this  reign  are, 
the  acquisitions  of  the  Dutchies  of  Lorraine  and  Barr ;  and  the  inter- 
ference of  the  Due  de  Choiseul  in  the  afifairs  of  Genoa,  by  which  the 
island  of  Corsica  was  annexed  to  the  French  monarchy. 

*  Disputes  had  arisen  between  the  Corsicans  and  the  republic  of 
Genoa.  The  Genoese  wished  to  know  what  they  were  to  pay  the 
French  Government  for  the  hire  of  troops  to  reduce  that  island.  The 
Sue  de  Choiseul  proposed  higher  and  higher  terms — ^at  length  the  pos- 
aesaion  of  the  island  itself.  He  then  announced  himself  as  a  mediator 
— afiirmed  that  it  was  a  dependence  far  too  uncertain  and  burdensome 
for  a  republic  like  theirs,  and  that  it  would  be  for  their  advantage  to  be 
relieved  from  it. 

'  The  negotiation  was  carried  on  so  secretly  that  the  jealousy  of 
England  was  never  awakened,  and  he  succeeded— succeeded  by  slay- 
inc  the  brave  with  his  bayonets,  and  bribing  the  irresolute  with  his 
gcud.  But  there  is  a  righteous  retribution  which  awaits  nations  as  well 
as  individuals.  Who  could  conceive  that  from  this  island,  so  betrayed 
and  trampled  on,  from  its  inhabitants,  so  cruelly  enslaved  and  re- 
morselessly butchered,  one  should  arise  who  should  crush  the  Bourbons 
under  foot — one  to  whom  thrones  were  footstools — one  who  should 
become  the  bitterest  scourge  of  monarchs,  and  of  France  in  parti- 
cular! ' 

'  Louis  XVI.  ascends  the  throne.  He  is  extremely  disquieted 
about  the  finances.  Gives  his  confidence  to  Maurepas :  who  is  suc- 
ceeded first  by  Turgot,  and  then  by  Neckar.  Maurepas's  plan  was 
bold  enough  : — no  new  loans,  and  no  new  taxes.  This  was  sufficiently 
daring,  when  the  annual  deficit  was  twenty-five  millions: — but 
Neckmr'a  was  bolder  still*— nen;  loansy  and  no  new  taxes  /     How  did 


403  Whychcotie  of  St.  JohrCg. 

Neckar  propose  to  cover  the  deficiency  ?  By  aboIiBhiiig  useleas  places, 
by  economy  in  the  state^  and  retrendiment  about  the  coart.  JNeckar 
was  the  Minister  of  Retrenchment  and  Reform.  He  fails  in  bis  ex- 
pectations and  plans — at  least  with  the  coart — and  retires.  Monaiear 
dc  Calonne  succeeds. 

'  Monsieur  de  Calonne.— Did  a  minister  want  a  sinecare  for  a  fol- 
lower ? — it  was  ready.  Did  the  queen  want  a  place  or  a  pension  for  a 
favourite  ? — it  was  ready.  Did  a  prince  of  the  blood  want  a  tempo- 
rary supply,  to  defray  a  debt  at  the  gaming-table  ? — it  was  ready. 
The  minister  was  always  smiling — always  cheerful — quite  at  ease  and 
contented—  at  every  body's  call — ready  to  listen  to  and  oblige  all  the 
world.  In  this  eolden  age,  as  it  must  have  appeared  to  the  court,  the 
minister  (De  Calonne)  discovered,  that  the  revenue  bore  a  firightfid 
disproportion  to  the  expenditure. 

'  "  Because  I  have  not  spoken  in  the  most  measured  terms  of  the 
privileged  orders,  I  have  been  sacrificed."  These  may  be  considered 
the  last  words  of  De  Calonne.  He  was  disgraced  and  uismissed.  Bot, 
strange  retribution  !  he  lived  to  see  that  very  aristocracy  which  had 
prepared  and  achieved  his  ruin,  flying  from  before  the  senseless  de- 
magogues that  too  soon  succeeded  him.' 

*  It  is  melancholy  to  reflect  on  the  conduct  of  the  noUesse  at  this 
critical  juncture — the  interval  between  forming  the  two  houses ;  their 
miserable  jealousy,  their  selfish  policy,  their  narrow  views.  They  for- 
got that  early  reformation  is  an  amicable  arrangement  with  a  friend  in 
power.  Their  conduct  resembled  that  of  the  savage  in  his  canoe,  wbo 
sleeps  upon  the  stream  till  the  stream  becomes  a  torrent,  and  he  is  pre- 
cipitated to  his  destruction.'     pp.  18 — 29. 

A  few  detached  sentences  are  given  as  specimens  of  the  pithy, 
axiomatic,  and  philosophical  observations  which  the  Professor  oc- 
casionally introduces.     The  following  arc  excellent. 

'  Men  who  in  early  life  are  accustomed  to  the  petty  details  of  office, 
never  get  beyond  them.  They  become  familiarized  with  oormption ; 
their  understandings  become  narrow ;  their  feelings  are  blunted ;  and 
towards  the  close  of  life,  they  become  the  secret  or  avowed  friends  of 
servility,  the  enemies  of  all  public  sentiment^  and  of  all  advisers  the 
worst  that  a  king  or  a  country  can  listen  to.' 

'  Wo  to  the  country  where  the  ministers  do  not  respect  popular 
opinion ;  but  wo  to  the  kingdom — the  monarchy  at  least — ^whe^  they 
have  no  other  muster.' 

'  The  great  problem  of  government  is,  to  make  the  executive  power 
suflliciently  strong  to  maintain  and  preserve  peace  and  good  order^  and 
yet  not  so  strong  as  to  overthrow  the  liberties  of  the  people.' 

*  To  provide  for  events,  is  in  some  measure  to  control  them.' 

Great  must  be  the  merit  of  the  Lecturer,  if  these  fragments  do 
him  injustice. 
Passing  over  Denton  Hall  and  the  Ghost  Stories,  we  come  to 


Ifhychcotte  of  St  John's.  408 

chapter  headed,  '  The  Controversialists  \  containing  the  por- 
uts  (already  adverted  to)  of  the  political  bishops ;  also  of  the 
Prince  Bishop,^  Barrington,  and  his  accomplished  chaplain, 
ownsend  of  Durham,  whose  conversational  powers  are  repre- 
Dted  to  be  of  the  highest  order  * ;  of  Bp.  Burgess,  and  Dr. 
iber ;  the  series  being  closed,  singularly  enough,  with  the  full 
Dgth  of  a  female  controvertist. 

'  And  now,  place  aux  dames !  Enter,  fair  antagonist  of  Andrew 
bomson,  and  caustic  author  of  ''  Anglicanus " — Mrs.  Henry  Grey, 
rs.  Henry  Grey  is  an  abstruse  mathematician,  and  an  acute  contro- 
rnalist.  She  looks  made  of  **  sterner  stuff"  than  we  usually  assign 
the  softer  sex.  Her  hard,  cold,  blue  eye — ^the  rigid  contour  of  her 
untenance — the  ashy,  changeless  hue  of  her  complexion — the  harsh, 
dl  tones  of  an  inflexible  voice — are  all  fitting  appendages  to  a  po- 
DUC  And  a  polemic  she  is  of  first-rate  powers,  as  Andrew  Thomson 
and  to  his  cost.  Heaven  aid  those — for  they  need  it — who  have  to 
»po6e  her,  either  in  conversation  or  on  paper.  I  would  not  wish  even 
—  himself  worse  than  a  castigation  from  that  ruthless  "  Female 
entley,"  the  only  literary  antagonist,  in  the  whole  of  Dr.  Thomson's 
jry  career,  who  made  him  wince,  and  cry,  "  Hold,  enough  !" 

*  The  Letters  of  Anglicanus,  which  delighted  one  half  of  Edinburgh, 
id  enraged,  almost  to  madness,  the  other,  were  written  during  Mr. 
rey's  absence  in  England.  On  his  return  from  Monkwearmouth, 
here  he  had  been  engaged  in  opening  a  new  chapel,  **  the  gifted 
Oman  "  submitted  to  the  gaze  of  her  admiring  husband,  the  manu- 
ript  of  the  Letters  of  Anglicanus.  Struck,  as  he  could  not  fail  to 
\,  with  their  point,  their  force,  truth,  and  sarcasm,  he  consented  to 
eir  appearance.  The  storms  that  followed  defy  description.  The 
•nius,  nowever,  that  raised  them,  bore  her  husband  triumphantly 
rough  their  vehemence ;  and  holding  up  the  reverend  doctor  in  one 
ind,  and  the  cause  of  the  Bible  Society  m  the  other,  she  dashed  into 
e  bitter  billows  of  controversy,  as  if  she  had  Noah  himself  for  a 
lot. 

'  She  is  a  singular  woman  to  look  at,  and  awful  indeed  to  converse 
ith — ^being  plenished  with  arguments  on  every  probable  and  every 
iprobable  subject  —every  possible  and  impossible  topic.  Yet,  not- 
ithatanding  her  knowledge  of- Locke  and  Des  Cartes— her  perfect 
mprehension  of  abstract  ideas — her  familiarity  with  Kant — and  the 
lartness  with  which  she  '' recals  you  to  common  sense"  if  you  fail 
express  yourself  with  mathematical  preciseness, — notwithstanding 
L  these  gifts  and  graces,  let  me  ever  be  content  to  admire  her  at  a 
stance,  and  to  crave  permission  to  consider  her  like  snow  in  Italy,  a 
lenomenon  more  surprising  than  agreeable.'   pp.  125 — 128. 

*  The  present  Lord  Chancellor,  when  a  barrister  on  the  Northern 
trcuit,  was  frequently  a  guest  at  the  Prince  Bishop's  table,  where  he 
sold  seat  himself  between  Townsend  and  Phillpotts,  whom  he  ac* 
lowledged  to  be  the  most  powerful  conversational  antagonists  of  his 
yiafntance. 


404  Whych^ie  of  Si.  John's. 

The  papers  seem  purposely  shuffled,  so  as  to  separate  those 
which  are  of  the  same  suit.  We  skip  some  intermediate  ones  of 
slighter  structure,  to  notice  the  solid  observations  entitled,  ^  The 
Cause  of  the  Church.'*     That  the  Church  ^  has,  till  within  a  very 

*  recent  period,  yearly  lost  ground  in  the  estimation  of  the  people, 
^  cannot,^  the  Writer  remarks,  *  be  with  any  show  of  truth  datiied." 
The  causes  to  which  this  has  been  ascribed  are,  1.  the  tithe  sys- 
tem ;  2.  ^  the  Utile  deference  shewn  to  the  wishes  of  the  people^ 

*  and  the  systematic  and  determined  manner  in  which  their  re* 

*  presentations  cmd  entreaties  with  respect  to  the  distribution  of 

*  preferment  have  been  discountenanced  and  defied;'*  and  3. 
pluralities,  which  last  are  affirmed  to  be  emphatically  the  curse  of 
the  Church.  With  regard  to  the  tithe,  the  Writer  sealoosly  de- 
fends  the  right  of  the  clergy,  as  not  less  valid  than  that  of  the 
landlord ;  Imt  he  has  not  taken  pains  to  understand  the  subject. 
He  affirms  for  instance,  that  ^  where  the  tithes  are  held  as  at  pre- 

*  sent,  the  parson  does  not  get  a  third  of  his  legal  due.     In  many 

*  cases,  it  does  not  amount  to  a  fourth  of  the  real  value  of  the 

*  tithe.*  Now  this  assertion,  by  attempting  to  prove  too  much, 
is  fatal  to  the  validity  of  the  claim.  ^Nothing  can  more  clearly 
shew  that  the  modem  claim  goes  far  beyond  the  original  grant, 
and  that  the  latter  has  been  prodigiously  misconstrued,  than  the 
fact,  tliat  the  hypothetical  cLum  is  incapable  of  being  enforeed. 
Archdeacon  Coxe,  in  his  *  Three  Letters'*  to  Mr.  Benett,  deng* 
nates  tithe  as  a  ^  property  amounting  to  the  value  of  nearly  one- 

*  fourth  of  the  rental  of  the  whole  kingdom.^  Now,  assuming  this 
to  be  correct,  and  adopting  also  the  assertion  of  the  present  Wri« 
ter,  we  arrive  at  the  pleasant  conclusion,  that  the  tithe,  if  enforced 
to  the  extent  of  its  fiiU  value,  would  be  equal  to  three-fourths,  if 
not  to  the  total  amount  of  the  rental  of  the  kingdom  ! 

The  title  to  tithe  involves  an  arithmetical  blunder  as  well  as  a 
practical  grievance.  To  represent  it  as  only  so  much  additional 
rent,  is  a  dishonest  subterfuge.  Rent  is  paid  out  of  the  culti- 
vator''s  profits ;  tithe  is  levied  upon  the  produce,  irrespective  of 
profits.  It  is  a  tax  upon  improvements ;  for,  the  more  highly  the 
occupier  cultivates  his  farm,  the  more  oppressive  the  tithe ;  and  it 
falls  the  heaviest  upon  those  who  are  least  able  to  bear  it,  the  oc- 
cupiers of  inferior  land.  The  tithe  is  not  complained  of,  becanse 
it  is  a  burthen  upon  the  land,  but  because  it  is  a  burthen  upon 
the  expenditure  of  the  cultivator,  and  a  burthen  unjust  in  prin* 
ciple,  as  well  as  vexatious  from  its  arbitrary  character,  inasmuch 
as  it  is  not  regulated  by  the  profits  of  that  expenditure.  It  is  un- 
just also,  because,  being  variable  and  arbitraiy,  it  cannot  be  made 
the  subject  of  certain  calculation  in  taking  a  nirm  or  in  projecting 
improvements.  And  it  is  unjust,  in  reference  to  the  coramanity 
at  large,  because  it  is  a  property  increasing  in  value,  in  modern 
times,  in  an  undue  degree  compared  with  other  property,  and 


Whychcotte  of  St  John's.  406 

irithout  any  corresponding  increase  in  the  labours  of  those  who 
hold  this  property  in  trust  for  the  public  benefit.  These  are  the 
grounds  upon  which,  the  more  the  subject  is  examined  into,  the 
more  manifest  it  becomes^  that  the  tithe  is  both  a  burthen  and  a 
g^evance,  inequitable  in  itself,  and  injurious  alike  to  the  interests 
of  agriculture  and  of  religion. 

With  regard  to  the  second  point,  the  present  Writer  speaks 
out  honestly. 

'  Nothing  has  alienated  the  affections  of  the  people  from  the  existing 
estabh'shment  so  silently  and  irreparably  as  the  pertinacity  with  whicb^ 
in  limes  past,  they  have  been  denied  a  voice  in  the  preferment  of  their 
ministers,  and  tne  sturdiness  with  which  any  representation  on  their 
party  in  behalf  of  a  valued  curate,  has  been  silenced  or  set  at  nought. 

'  I  will  here  mention  a  fkct  which  fell  under  my  own  personal  ob- 
servation. It  shews  how  the  system  worked,  and  of  what  bitter  fruits 
it  was  productive.  A  living  became  vacant  on  which  a  curate  of  the 
most  blameless  life  and  benevolent  habits  had  been  stationed  eleven 
years.  It  was  a  *'  peculiar/'  and  formed  part  of  the  patronage  of  the 
dean  of  the  diocese.  A  memorial  was  drawn  up,  addressed  to  that 
dignitary,  and  signed  by  all  the  principal  landowners  and  landholders 
in  the  parish,  praying  that  he  would  take  the  services  and  character 
of  their  curate  into  consideration  in  disposing  of  the  vacant  vicarage* 
It  was  deemed  most  respectful  that  a  deputation  should  wait  on  him ; 
and  three  of  the  wealthiest  and  most  respectable  landed  proprietors 
were  fixed  upon.  The  dean  was  apprised  of  their  intention— a  day 
was  named — and  an  interview  granted.  He  never  asked  them  to  sit 
down— never  offered  them  (they  had  ridden  thirty  miles)  any  refresh- 
ment— never  expressed  any  pleasure  at  such  a  compliment  being  paid 
to  a  brother  clergyman.  He  contented  himself  with  putting  two 
questions — ''Are  these  signatures  genuine?"  He  was  assured  they 
were.  "  Is  the  wish  this  petition  expresses,  the  unanimous  wish  of  the 
whole  parish  ?  " — "  Unquestionably  so."  "  Then  I  must  tell  you  that 
I  oonsider  this  a  most  improper  interference.  It  is  an  attempt  to 
wrest  from  me  my  right  of  presentation,  and  I  shall  treat  it  accord- 
ingly*   Mr.   C se  has  no  chance  of  success  in   the  present 

instance."     He  bowed  and  retired. 

'  Now  this  was  the  conduct,  on  a  point  of  patrona^,  of  an  acute 
and  clever  man — of  one  who  had  raised  himself  to  ecclesiastical  rank^ 
by  his  own  industry  and  exertions — and  had  exhibited,  on  many  occa- 
sions, a  nice  sense  of  honour,  and  an  ardent  love  of  justice. 

'  Alas  !  how  much  easier  is  it  to  feel  than  to  think  ! 

'  To  the  Vicarage  a  middle-aged  gentleman  was  presented,  of  highly 
agreeable  manners,  and  very  convivial  habits.  He  was  what  is  called 
"  a  dead  shot : "  and  many  a  keenly  contested  pigeon-match  took  place 
on  the  vicar's  glebe ;  and  many  a  jovial  carouse  followed  it.  He 
hunted,  too,  occasionally  with  the  Quorn  hounds ;  and  was  so  tender 
of  the  prejudices  of  his  parishioners,  that  he  always  wore  a  pepper- 
and-salt  coat  till  he  got  to  cover.  He  was  fond,  too,  of  Cheltenham ; 
and  had  no  dislike  to  Bath :  but  his  attachment  to  his  parish  prevented 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  3  E 


406  Whf/chcatte  of  St.  JnhfC: 

him,  in  any  one  year,  remaining  more  than  t¥ro  months  at  the  imtj  and 
three  at  the  other. 

*  But  what  became  of  the  parish  of  R  in  the  interim  ?     That 

parish,  in  which,  during  the  curate's  ministry,  not  a  dissenting  chapel 
of  any  denomination  was  to  be  found,  became  a  hot-bed  of  Sectarianism. 
In  a  few  years  it  was  deluged  with  dissent.  And  if  at  this  moment  I 
wished  to  name  a  place  more  renowned  than  any  other,  for  bitter 
feeling  against  the  church,  a  deep-rooted  dislike  to  her  institntions, 
and  a  thorough  contempt  for  her  clergy — I  should  point  to  that  hamlet 
Who  is  to  bkme  for  this  ?  the  patron,  the  people,  or  the  pasiar  f  ' 

pp.  19a— 7. 

We  say,  neither,  but  the  system.  It  is  a  mistake  to  represent 
this  as  an  abuse :  it  is  the  very  principle  of  the  ecclesiAstical  po- 
lity  of  the  Establishment  to  exclude  the  voice  of  the  people. 
Some  years  ago,  when  Bishop  Randolph  (if  we  recollect  rigiit) 
filled  the  see  of  London,  a  most  respectable  deputation  of  the  pa- 
rishioners of  one  of  the  metropolitan  parishes,  an  eminent  banser 
at  their  head,  solicited  his  lordship  to  bestow  the  vacant  living, 
which  was  in  the  Bishop^s  eift,  upon  the  curate  who  had  exem- 
plarily  discharged  the  parochial  duties  during  the  non-remdence 
of  the  deceased  incumbent.  The  right  rev.  prelate  received  the 
deputation  with  courtesy,  but  told  them,  that  he  could  noi  bestow 
the  living  on  the  curate,  because  it  would  recognise  the  principle 
of  popular  nomination  ;  he  must  therefore  give  it  to  another  m- 
dividual,  although  he  pledged  his  word  that  it  should  be  to  a 
person  who  would  reside  ^nd  do  the  duty.  We  do  not  know 
what  the  present  Writer  means  by  speaking  of  such  things  as  be- 
longing to  '  times  past.**  We  have  never  heard  that  this  prin- 
ciple has  been  abandoned.  The  Church,  on  every  occasion,  has 
prided  herself  on  defying  the  people ;  emulating  the  spirit  of  diose 
who  presided  over  the  Jewish  establishment,  of  whom  we  read, 
John  vii.  49.  But  the  time  has  at  length  come,  when  this  policy 
will  no  longer  answer.  The  people  toill  have  a  voice  in  choosing 
their  own  pastors,  either  within  the  pale  or  without  it 

In  reference  to  the  third  grievance,  pluralities,  the  Writer  re- 
marks, that  '  never  will  the  Church  thrive,  till  this  indefensible 
*  abuse  of  patronage  is  redressed.'*  We  admit  that  non-residence 
is  a  great  aggravation  of  the  hardship  of  the  tithe  system ;  but 
if  non-residence  is  always  an  evil,  it  does  not  follow,  unfortu- 
nately, that  residence  is  always  a  benefit.  We  know  of  instances 
in  which  the  non-residence  of  the  incumbent  would  be  hailed  as 
a  great  advantage,  if  a  working  curate  of  the  right  stamp  were  smt 
in  his  place.  Uow  the  present  system  works,  the  following  is 
given  as  an  instance. 

'  There  is  a  living  in  the  north  of  England,  the  receipts  of  which, 
during  the  period  of  high  prices,  fell  little  short  of  .S,000/.  per  annum : 
— they  at  present  amount,  at  the  lowest  computation,  to  1,800/.     The 


Whychcotte  of  St.  John's.  407 

liTiiig  18  held  by  a  gentleman^  in  addition  to  iivo  others,  and  a  iraluable 
prebendal  stall. 

'  Notwithstanding  his  yarious  preferments,  he  does  not  possess 
ubiquity ;  and  therefore  neither  of  his  cures  can  receive  a  large  portion 
of  his  personal  attention.  On  the  living  to  which  I  refer,  he  resides 
three  months,  and  preaches,  while  in  residence,  every  Sunday  morning. 
His  sermons  may  be  summed  up  at  thirteen, — the  amount  of  duty 
the  parish  receives  from  him  in  exchange  for  the  1,800/.  he  draws 
from  it. 

'  To  supply  his  lack  of  service, — for  the  place  is  populous,  and  the 
duty  heavy, — two  curates  are  engaged.  To  the  senior  is  allotted  150/. 
per  annum  as  his  stipend ;  to  the  junior,  100/.  There  were  some  in 
the  parish  to  whom  these  arrangements  were  anything  but  satis- 
fBCtoTV.  Many  remembered  when  the  rectory  was  inhabited ; — when 
their  incumbent  resided  regularly  and  constantly  among  them.  They 
were  entitled,  they  said,  to  have  a  resident  rector.  The  population— 
the  value — the  importance  of  the  rectory — all  demanded  it.  It  was 
an  abuse  of  no  tnfling  nature,  that  such  a  living  should  be  bestowed 
on  one  that  would  not  reside  upon  it ;  that  so  large  a  sum  should  be 
abstracted  from  the  parish,  and  so  small  a  part  of  it  spent  in  it. 

'  A  year  or  two  since,  after  the  rector's  last  sermon  for  the  season, 
the  following  dialogue  was  overheard  between  two  of  the  oldest  of  his 
hearers,  as  they  slowly  descended  the  little  hill  on  which  the  parish 
church  is  situated. 

' "  Well,  this  is  number  thirteen.  I  suppose,  our  worthy  rector 
leaves  us  to-morrow,  for  London.     He 's  a  noble  preacher ! " 

<  **  Humph !  I  wonder  which  of  his  preferments  stands  next  in  ro- 
tation for  the  favour  of  one  of  his  angel  visits." 

'  '*  What  have  his  livings,  pluralist  as  he  is,  to  do  with  his  preach- 
ing? I  maintain,  his  discourses  abound  in  sound,  good  doctrines. 
They  are  valuable  sermons." 

* "  Granted :  nay,  I  '11  go  further,  friend.  I  will  affirm  of  thetn  that 
they  are  precious  sermons ;  and,  of  our  pastor  himself,  that  to  his 
flocK  there  cannot  be  a  dearer  man." 

* "  That 's  a  sneer :  explain  it." 

'  '*  Why,"  remarked  the  other,  with  unruffled  calmness,  "  can  there 
be  a  dearer  man  to  the  parish,  when  we  pay  him  upwards  of  1,500/, 
for  condescending  to  remain  three  months  amongst  us  ?  And  his  thir- 
teen sermons,  I  assert  them  to  be  '  precious,'  What  other  epithet  do 
they  merit,  when  he  receives  exactly  120/.  a-piecejbr  each  of  them  i"  * 

pp.  205—208. 

From  the  Church,  we  turn  to  the  Court.  A  very  interesting 
paper  describes  an  interview  with  the  son  of  Napoleon,  which 
cannot  be  altogether  a  fancy  sketch,  whatever  colouring  the  ima- 
gination may  have  lent  to  it 

'  At  ten,  we  were  again  under  the  walls  of  Shoenbrunn.  After  a 
long  and  most  painful  interval,  our  guide  came  up,  hurried  us  through 
some  damp,  dreary,  dirty,  ill-lighted  passages,  and  finally  ushered  us 

3e2 


408  WhyehcoHe  of  Si.  JohvCa. 

into  a  loftv^  but  ill-proportioned  and  nuBoaUy  fiimiihed  amrtaient, 
where  he  left  us,  with  an  assurance  that  there  the  duke  would  give  ni 
audience. 

'  After  a  few  minutes  the  door  of  a  little  cabinet  at  the  higher  end 
of  the  room  was  slowly  unclosed ;  a  youthful  figure  elided  through  the 
opening,  and  we  stooa  in  the  presence  of  the  young  Napoleon. 

'  His  appearance  is  peculiarly  prepossessing.  The  delicate  and 
chiselled  beauty  of  his  features — ^their  air  of  moilmful  intelligence  and 
serene  command — ^the  deep,  sad,  settled  composure  of  his  eye— the 
thoughtful  paleness  of  his  cheek— and  the  lofty,  noble,  but  intense  ab- 
straction which  characterized  all  his  movements — form  too  remarkabk 
a  portrait  to  be  speedily  forgotten. 

'  It  is  difficult  to  describe  a  countenance  so  peculiar  in  its  expres- 
sion ;  so  deeply  sad  when  in  repose,  so  captivating  when  animated  bf 
the  exertion  of  speaking.  Something,  however,  must  be  attempted. 
He  inherits  the  mir  complexion  and  light  hair  of  his  mother ;  his  eyes 
are  blue,  deep,  sad,  and  thoughtfiiL  To  him  have  descended  the 
finely  formed  lips  of  his  father,  and  the  small,  beautiful  hand ;  and 
he  boasts  the  same  soft,  winnine,  attractive  smile.  There  is  some- 
thing of  the  Austrian  in  his  forehead ;  it  is  high,  but  narrow,  and  nol 
finely  developed :  all  else  is  noble  and  commanding.  But  the  un- 
wonted paleness  of  his  features,  the  settled  thoughtfulness  of  his  brow, 
the  look  of  deep,  and  habitual,  and  unutterable  sadness,  betoken  one 
who  has  brooded  over  the  secrets  of  his  own  heart,  and  found  them 
unmingled  bitterness. 

'  He  advanced  quickly  down  the  room  towards  the  doctor,  and  thffl 
gave  a  rapid  glance  of  inquiry  at  his  companion.  It  was  understood 
and  answered.     "  An  intimate  and  most  particular  friend." 

'  "  Your  name  is ?  " 

'  "  It  is." 

' ''  And  the  papers  you  are  in  possession  of,  and  have  with  vaA 
difficulty  preserved " 

'  "  Are  with  me." 

'  During  these  short  and  rapid  interrogatories,  the  duke  had  so 
adroitly  shifted  his  position,  as  to  throw  the  light  fiill  upon  my  com- 
panion's countenance,  which  he  scanned  with  tne  most  searching  ob- 
servation :  then,  as  if  he  were  satisfied  with  the  result,  he  saidj  with 
a  faint  smile,  <'  I  am  ready,  sir,  to  receive  the  documents." 

'  "  The  papers  I  am  charged  with,"  the  doctor  b^an,  with  an  air 
of  considerable  importance— 

'  "  They  will  si)eak  for  themselves,"  said  the  prince  calmly.  "  The 
few  moments  I  can  spare  to  you  are  sensibly  diminishing :  excuse  me  ' 
—and  he  extended  his  hand. 

'  He  opened  the  pacquet — examined  its  contents  eagerly  and  mi- 
nutely, and,  as  he  closed  his  inspection,  uttered  in  a  tone  of  deep  fed- 
ing — •*  These  are  valuable :  the  Emperor's  family  will  not  forget  the 
obligation  of  receiving  them,  or  the  hazard  of  the  attempt  to  place 
them  where  they  will  be  most  precious." 


At  this  moment  the  man  of  medicine  made  some  observation — I 
•cely  heard  it,  so  intentl; 
prisoner — to  the  effi^ct  that 


scarcely  heard  it,  so  intently  was  my  attention  riveted  on  the  prinoelr 

at  he  was  pained  or  surprised — I  forget  whioi 


Whychcotte  of  St,  John's.  409 

— at  obfierving  no  vestige,  no  relic  of  the  late  ruler  of  France  in  the 
apartment  of  his  son,  to  prove  that  he  was  not  forgotten. 

'  "  Forgotten  !  Behold  the  cabinet  where  the  Emperor,  when  at 
Shoenbronn,  was  wont  to  read  and  write  for  hours  alone,  and  where 
he  first  saw  mj  mother's  portrait."  ''  Forgotten  ! "  and  he  touched  the 
spring  of  a  small  inlaid  writing-stand,  and  there  appeared  a  beau- 
tifully finished  miniature  on  enamel,  of  Napoleon  on  the  heights  of 
Areola.  *'  Forgotten  ! "  and  he  turned  a  full-length  engraving  of  his 
grandfather  Francis,  which  hung  near  him.  Its  reverse  exhibited  a 
proof  impression  of  the  splendid  print  of  Bonaparte  in  his  coronation 
robes.  '*  No  " — said  the  prince,  as  he  earnestly,  yet  sadly  gazed  upon 
it—''  he  is  never  ",  (he  spoke  in  French,  with  the  deepest  emotion,) 
'*  no,  he  is  never — never  for  one  instant — ^forgotten ! "  He  paused  for 
an  instant,  recovered  his  composure,  and  proceeded  in  calmer  tones. 

'  "  Farewell,  sir.  You  will  hear  from  me  :  from  othbrs.  Form 
no  opinion  on  the  state  mockery  with  which  you  see  me  surrounded, 
or  the  indifference  with  which  I  endure  it.  At  present  I  bow  to  cir- 
cmmstances — their  creature,  not  their  victim.  I)eath  must  shortly 
produce  great  changes.  I  am  aware  I  have  ^ends — many,  firm,  de- 
voted— my  father's !  " — ^his  voice  trembled — "  let  them  be  assured  I 
live  but  to  avenge  his  memory  and — his  murder  ! " 

'  He  bowed,  as  a  sign  the  interview  was  ended,  and  quitted  by  the 
mne  door  as  he  entered  the  apartment. 

'  Our  guide  re-appeared,  and  we  hastily  retraced  our  steps.  But 
before  we  had  cleared  the  precincts  of  the  palace,  a  voice  whispered  in 
my  ear,  as  we  hurried  through  the  dark,  dismal  passage  already  no- 
ticed— "  Quit  Vienna  without  delay:  your  proceedings  are  watched, 
and  your  design  detected." '    pp.  268—274. 

Some  of  the  anecdotes  interspersed  through  these  volumes,  re- 
late to  distinguished  personages  of  our  own  court  circle,  and  ap« 
pFoach  the  character  of  a  scandalous  chronicle.     For  example : — 

'  "  Which  is  Mrs.  Arbnthnot  ?  "  said  an  elderly  of  the  old  school, 
whose  bent  form  and  silver  locks  told  a  tale  of  years  gone  by,  to  a 
young  aspirant  in  diplomacy,  during  an  entertainment  at  Ladv  Strong's, 
at  Putney.  ''Which  is  the  confidant  of  Princess  Lieven,  ana  the  coun- 
sellor of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  ?  Do  I  see  her  in  that  lovely  wo- 
man, sitting  near  our  host,  with  that  singularly  sweet  expression  and 
bright  laughing  eye  ?  " 

'  "  No,  that  is  the  celebrated  beauty,  Rosamond  Croker,  the  niece 
of  the  sarcastic  secretary.  The  object  of  your  enquiry  is  nearer  home 
— hnsh !  speak  lower — ^look  to  the  right  of  Mr.  Holmes :  see,  she  is 
listening  with  evident  satisfaction  to  the  badinage  of  the  great  cap« 
tain.  With  his  grizzled  hair,  hooked  nose,  and  piercing  eye,  how  like 
an  old  eagle  !     Now,  now,  she  looks  this  way." 

*  "  And  that  is  Mrs.  Arbuthnot,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  musing. 
"  Those  faultless  feminine  features  and  clear  pale  countenance — " 

* ''  Which,"  interrupted  his  youthful  mentor,  "  are  invariably  of  the 
aame  delicate  hue,  and  at  no  time,   rare  instance  in  a  woman  of 


410  Whychcotte  of  St  JohfC^. 

fiiishion !  masked  with  rougje :  look  at  her  well :  fiw  she^s  a  woman  thai 
has  served  her  country  J* 

'  "  Her  country — ^how  ?  when  ?  where  ?  " 

'  "  Those  are  questions  more  easily  asked  than  answered  :  bat  as 
nothing  ostensible  appears,  we  must  suppose  it  to  be  in  the  way  of  «r- 
cret  service.  Aid/'  continued  the  yodng  diplomatist^  *'  she  must  hate 
rendered,  and  of  no  comnfon  description.  Otherwise  there  would  nerer 
have  been  granted,  under  an  administration  on  principle  hostile  to  all 
extravagance — to  unmerited  pensions — to  every  species  of  expenditore 
unsanctioned  by  necessity ;  under  a  Premier  who  pared  down  the 
Custom  House  clerks  ^vithout  mercy;  whose  watchword  wms  "eoh 
nomy  *'  and  general  order  "  retrenchment ;  "  who  spared  no  salary,  and 
respected  no  services—a  pension  of  no  less  than  nine  hundbsd  and 

TIIIKTY-EIGHT  POUNDS  PER  ANNUM  TO  HARBIBT  ARBUTHNOT. — Ns, 

no ;  rely  upon  it,  her  claims  upon  her  country  are  weighty,  and  her 
services  in  its  behalf  unimpeachable." 

'  *'  She  is  fair/'  said  the  old  gentleman,  "  but  her  predecessor  wh 
fiiirer." 

'  "  Her  predecessor  ?  " 

'  '^  Yes :  the  first  Mrs.  Arbuthnot  was  one  of  the  most  inteUectnil, 
elegant,  fascinating  women  that  ever  lived.  Her  daughter.  Lady  Hcmy 
Cholmondely^  in  manner  resembles  her.  She  accompanied  Mr.  Ar« 
buthnot  in  his  embassy  to  Ccmatantinople,  and  many  oJF  his  despstdiei 
are  indebted  for  their  precision,  force,  and  clearness  to  the  oorrectioni 
of  her  severer  taste.  Long  Wellesley — then  an  indefatigable  stndnt 
and  accomplished  man  of  business,  heu  I  quantum  mutaius  ah  iilo — wm 
secretary  to  the  embassy ;  and  could  bear  willing  testimony  to  her 
delight  at  the  opportunity  of  enriching  her  mind  with  associatioBS  s^ 
quired  from  personal  observation  of  a  country  full  of  interest,  and  bat 
little  known. 

'  The  last  letters  that  flowed  from  her  polished  pen— and  those  win 
knew  her  best  will  be  the  first  to  do  justice  to  the  brilliancy  of  her 
style,  the  fidelity  and  the  variety  of  her  descriptive  powers — 'Dreathei 
the  language  of  youth  and  hope ;  spoke  of  post  pleasures,  and  anti- 
cipated future  gratification:  the  next  accounts  stated  die  was  w 
more. 

'  She  died  at  Pera — died  when  the  sad  event  was  utterly  um- 
pected— died  under  the  hands  of ''  native  talent:'*  in  other  words* 
Turkish  quack  undertook  her  cure,  was  credited,  and  confided  in  :- 
mourned  by  the  whole  embassy,  and  be^vailed  by  her  agonised  mother: 
— died,  except  as  far  as  Air.  Arbuthnot  was  concerned,  in  the  gfti'M  ff 
strangers  and  alone  !'   Vol.  II.  pp.  180 — 184. 

We  are  tempted  to  select  one  more  specimen  of  the  Whychootle 
anecdotes,  although  the  reader  may  naturally  require  some  betts 
confirmation  than  anonymous  authority. 

' "  You  have  called,"  said  the  young  diplomatist,  *'  the  late  Qnwa 
unfortunate — ^how  is  this?"' 

'  *'  1  have,"  said  the  old  man  sternly ;  "  and  will  not  recall  the  epi- 
thet.    Without  passing  any  opinion  on  her  guilt  or  her  innocence,  I 


fVhychcotte  of  Si.  JohiCs.  411 

term  her  an  unfortunate  PrinoesSy  because  I  tbmk  few  will  deny  her 
just  claim  to  that  appellation  ;  and  that  still  fewer  will  assert  that  she 
ivas  not,  during  the  greater  part  of  her  life>  and  particularly  the  clos- 
ing scenes  of  it^  an  object  of  the  sincerest  pity.  1  am  old^  and^j^ 
circumstances  and  situation,  know  much  of  the  earlier  passages  of 
her  married  life.  I  was  at  Brighton  during  the  first  visit  of  the  Prin- 
eegg  • — ^the  only  period  at  which  she  was  an  inmate  of  the  Pavilion.  I 
was  at  table  on  one  particular  occasion^  when  Lady  Jersey — she  has 
sinoe  gone  to  her  account — may  she  have  found  mercy  with  her  God ! 
— was  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Prince^  monopolizing^  as  usual^ 
his  entire  and  undivided  attention.  The  Princess,  who  knew  little  of 
JBSnsb'sh  manners,  and  was  unguarded  in  her  own,  was  guilty  of  some 
trivial  violation  of  etiquette,  which  drew  down  upon  her  a  hasty  cen- 
sure from  the  Prince,  somewhat  harshly  expressed.  The  Princess 
rose  and  withdrew  in  tears.  The  Prince,  who,  left  to  himself,  was 
ever  generous  and  kind-hearted,  and  who  had  not  calculated  that  his 
remark  would  produce  such  painful  results,  rose  to  follow  her.  Lady 
Jersey — what  a  retrospect  a  dying  hour  must  have  unrolled  to  the  view 
of  that  fearful  woman ! — exclaimed,  "  Oo,  go  by  all  means.  Follow 
her.  Soothe  her  by  your  submission,  and  then  sue  for  pardon.  Let 
her  see  her  own  power.  She  fvill  never  abuse  it"  The  Prince,  hesi- 
tated— advanced — returned  —  and,  with  a  smile,  resumed  his  seat. 
I^dy  Jersey  had  triumphed. 

*  The  circumstance  was  canvassed  at  Brighton,  and  commented  on. 
It  was  mentioned  in  my  hearing,  and  I  called  it  ''  unmanly  conduct." 
My  observation  was   repeated,   and   I  was  dismissed.     I   was  told, 

^THAT    IN    CERTAIN    CIRCUMSTANCES    NO   MAN    WAS  ALLOWED   TO 
HAVE  AN  OPINION  OF  HIS  OWN." 

'  The  Princess  was  unfortunate  in  other  respects.     Dr.  Randolph, 
the  Prebendary  of  Bristol,  was  appointed  to  an  embassy  of  a  private 
^  satare  to  Germany.     Among  other  commissions,  he  was  charged  with 
letters  from  the  Princess  of  Wales,  which  he  was  directed  to  deliver 
iM^sonally  to  the  Dutchess  of  Brunswick,  and  other  members  of  her 
p.nmily.     For  some  reason  or  other,  the  Doctor  received  counter  orders, 
l^and  another  gentleman  was  despatched  to  Germany  in  his  stead.     In- 
^  Stead  of  surrendering  the  Princess's  packet  to  herself  in  person,  he 
^  transmitted  it  to  her  lady-in-waiting,  Lady  Jersey,  to  be  by  her  deli- 
H^  irered  to  her  royal  mistress.     The  packet  was  opened — found  to  con- 
^  tain  letters  commenting,  in  ludicrous  terms,  on  various  members  of  her 
if- hnsband's  fieimily,   and  his  mother  in  particular — these  letters  were 
1^  handed  over  to  the  parties — and  never  rorgiven.     That  such  commu- 
nications were  highly  censurable,  indiscreet,  and  improper,  I  admit : 
hut  what  epithet  sufficiently  strong  can  be  applied  to  the  treachery 
1^  which  could  thus  way-lay  and  appropriate  them  ? 
^      '  The  end  of  the  Countess  was  singular.     During  the  Queen's  trial, 
and  for  some  years  previous  to  it,  she  resided  at  Cheltenham.     On 
the  withdrawal  of  the  Bill  of  Pains  and  Penalties,  she  received  a 
1^  found-robin,  numerously  signed,  telling  her  that  her  presence  was  not 
desired  at  Cheltenham,  and  that  she  would  consult  both  her  quiet  and 
.  z  her  safety,  by  a  speedy  retreat.     Considerably  chagrined  at  this  docu- 


41S  WhycheMe  of  Si.  /oAft>. 

ment,  which  wM  powerfullf  and  oonvinciiiglT  written,  the  nked  t 
leadine  personage  at  Cheltenhaniy  whether  poiuic  opinion  there  ran  » 
strongly  against  her  as  her  letter  averred.  8ho  was  told^  it  did;  uid 
that  the  advice  given  in  the  roand-roMn  was,  in  the  opinion  of  bcr 
counsellor,  judicious  and  sound/ 

'  "  Then  I  will  quit  Cheltenham  without  dehiy." 

'  Whether  she  did  so,  and  only  reached  the  lint  stage  of  her  joomef 
—  or  whether,  when  all  her  hasty  preparatioBB  were  oomplefee,  she  wh 
suddenly  taken  ill,  I  am  unable  to  state  positively.  This  I  can  affim, 
that  the  vexation  and  annoyance  oonseqnent  on  the  ronnd-nbin, 
bnmght  on  the  illness  which  rapidly  terminated  her  existenoe.  She 
died  in  the  same  week  as  the  Queen ;  and  their  funeral  proccsriom 
passed  on  the  road.  Strange  that  they  should  thus  meet,  both  nlent 
in  death — the  injurer  and  the  injured— the  oppressor  and  the  victim!' 

V<d.  II.  pp.  100—195. 

The  poor  Queen !  Hard  was  the  measure  denied  out  to  her. 
The  subject  recalls  to  us  some  stanias  on  ber  death,  which  have 
never  appeared  amon^  Lord  Byron^s  remains ;  yet,  to  what  other 
pen  may  they  be  ascnbed  ? 


'  Daughter  of  Brunswick,  Britain's  injured  C2neen, 

Mother  of  Britain's  Heiress,  o'er  whose  tomb 
Thou  and  the  Nation  wept ;  thine,  thine  haa  been 

A  boisterous  day,  shut  up  in  sudden  gloom. 

Betrayed  to  feiithless  nuptials ;  all  thy  bloom 
Of  life  consumed  in  worse  than  widowhood  ; 

No  child  to  soothe  thine  age ;  it  was  thy  doom. 
To  have  thy  every  step  throuffh  life  pursued 
By  mean  vindictive  Hate,  and  Slander's  venal  brood. 

<  In  England's  cause  thy  sire,  thy  brother  Ued, 

And  Europe  trembled  when  the  Brunswick  fell. 
Wrongs  heaped  upon  thy  unprotected  head 

That  debt  have  nobly  paid.     Was  it  not  well 

To  goad  thee  into  exile,  there  to  dwell 
'Mid  household  spies ;  and,  when  thy  Daughter  died. 

Add  insult  to  the  loss,  seeking  to  quell 
By  coward  threats,  all  spark  of  prinoely  pride. 
Spurning  thee  uncondemned,  condemning  thee  untried? 

'  When  driven  at  length  to  turn  upon  thy  foe. 
And  brave  his  malice  in  the  form  of  law. 

With  courdgc  that  the  guiltless  only  know. 
With  firmness  that  might  well  the  guilty  awe. 
Oh,  what  a  scene  the  astonished  nation  saw ! 

The  injurer  plaintiff,  while  were  foremost  seen. 
Counsel,  on  Virtue's  side,  to  prove  thy  flaw. 

The  adulterer  foul,  the  venal,  and  the  mean, 

"  All  hunoumble  men  ",  to  judge  their  culprit  Queen. 


IJinton's  Harmony  of  RfiligiQw  Truth*  413 

'  And  there  they  sate,  drinkii^  in>  day  by  di^. 

The  nauseous  tale  of  hireaand  perjured  spy. 
And  lewder  fictions,  which,  for  ampler  pay, 

Wwc  sworn  to  by  the  dregs  of  Italy, 

The  well- drilled  tools  of  dark  conspiracy. 
Meantime,  the  deep  intrigue,  the  brutal  jeer. 

The  Treasury  mandate,  and  £9ul  calumny. 
Were  busy,  to  teeure  from  Ipyal  peer. 
The  cool,  impartial  vote,  in  case  so  daylight  clear ! 

'  Oh,  had  that  '^  good  old  King  ",  thy  friend  and  sire. 
Then  filled  the  throne,  how  would  the  servile  throng 

Wko  think  by  proxy,  and  who  vote  by  hire. 
Cringing  at  levees  all  the  season  long. 
Have  feared  to  do  thee  and  their  conscience  wrong  I 

How  would  the  Churchmen,  then,  with  honours  due. 
Have  chaunted  forlji  thy  virtues  in  their  song, 

Hifitinff  that  some  things  Princes  may  not  do, 

And  tfilked  of  Moral  Law  in  language  sage  and  true  ! 

*  But  thou  art  gone  !  And  what  imports  it  now. 

Buried  alike  thy  pleasures  and  thy  cares. 
That  earthly  crow^  ne*er  pressed  thy  princely  brow. 

And  courtly  prelates  grudged  their  scanty  prayers  ? 

While  prayers  availed  thee>  better  far  than  theirs. 
Rose  warm  /rom  simple  hearts.     But  thou  art  gone, 

— Where  peers  are  not  the  judges. — Malice  dar^f 
Not  there  pursue  thee. — Justice  fills  the  throng  ; 
But  Merc^  pleads  beside,  and  Ood  is  Judge  alone.' 

'IB21.- 


Art.  IV.  The  Harmony  of  Religious  Truth  and  Human  Reason  aS" 
serted,  in  a  Series  of  Essays  ;  by  John  Howard  Hinton,  A.M. 
12mo.  pp.  xxxiii.^  336.  London.  1832. 

f^HE  appearance  of  this  little  work  exhibits  strikingly  the 
-^  dbaracter  of  the  age.  Within  the  compass  of  336  pages  of  a 
imcdedmoj  the  Author  professes  to  illustrate  and  establish  the 
*  HarmoBy  of  Religious  Truth  \  that  is,  of  the  revealed  truths 
of  religion,  *  and  human  reason.'*  A  century  or  two  ago,  almost 
any  one  of  the  numerous  topics  discussed,  would  have  ftimisbed 
ample  matter  for  a  full-sized  quarto ;  and,  in  the  hands  of  Ba^er, 
moBt  of  them  would  have  been  logica%  conducted  to  the  noble 
oaagnitude  of  a  folio.  Nor  would  the  quarto  or  the  folio  have 
been  long  a  load  upon  the  shelves  of  the  publisher,  or  a  pressure 
on  the  funds  of  the  author.  Howe'^s,  Baxter's,  Goodwin's,  Owen's 
massy  {productions  were  not  profitless,  either  to  their  booksellers 
or  to  themselves.  Prodi^ous  readers,  as  well  as  incessant  thinkers^ 
wjere  not  infrequent  in  those  days. 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  3  F 


41 4  Hinton^s  Harmony  of  Religious  TnUhL 

That  peculiar  faculty  of  the  human  mind,  so  sensitive  in  these' 
improved  times,  which  enables  us  at  once  to  detect  the  qiulity  of 
books  to  which  we  give  the  expressive  name  of  dryness^  was  then 
for  the  most  part  undeveloped  ; — a  quality  from  which  it  is  of 
indispensable  importance  that  authors  should  preserve  their  pro- 
ductions, on  whatever  subjects,,  as  free  as  possible.  To  the 
operation  of  this  principle  in-  the  present  advanced  state  of  in- 
tellectual improvement,  we  are  chiefly  ind^Hed  for  the  facility 
and  despatch  with  which  we  clear  away  difficulties,  and'  disen- 
cumber ourselves  of  an  immense  expenditure  of  mental  toil. 
Mankind,  it  is  said,  vainly  wearied  themselves  in  the  pursuit  of 
impalpable  distinctions,  of  metaphysical  differences  of  ideas;  in 
superfluous  attention  to  the  minute  inequalities,  the  mere  shades 
of  diversity  in  objects  of  thought;  while  we,  with  a  manly  n^Iect 
of  such  busy  triHing,  by  the  sound,  robust,  instantaneous  grasp 
of  a  healthy  mind,  lay  hold  at  once  of  the  master  prindpks  m 
things,  and  traverse  the  regions  of  knowledge  with  ease  and 
satisfaction.  In  judicious  conformity  with  the  demands  of  this 
masculine  age,  therefore,.  Mr.  Hinton  has,  in  fourteen  short  and 
popular  essays,  disposed  of  the  profound  questions  connected  with 
the  following  subjects:  — 

'  The  Existence  of  God — The  nature  and  capacity  ofma&^^DiviDC 
Revelation — The  revealed  character  of  God — Uod's  moral  sovemment 
of  man — The  eflfccts  of  the  fall — A  future  state — The  dements  of 
future  happiness  and'  misery — The  eternity  of  future  punishments— 
The  accusatory  aspect  of  the  Gospel — Hereditary  Depravity— Whe- 
ther Christ  died  for  all  men? — The  nature  and  practicability  of  repent- 
ance— and  the  na Lure  and  crimiualitv  of  unbelief.' 

The  discussion  of  these  several  topics,  within  the  limit  pre- 
scribed to  himself,  is  certainly  characterised  by  considerable 
ability,  and  by  quite  as  much  of  thought  and  closeness  of  reason- 
ing, as  will  in  general  be  deemed  sufficient,  if  not  somewhat 
beyond  the  due  boundar)'.  But  what  chiefly  distinguishes  this  volume 
is  the  temerity  with  which  the  author  ventures  out  of  the  ragulsr 
track,  and  rather  heretically  assumes  the  right  to  think  over  again 
upon  matters  which  have  been  long  since  thought  out  to  petftcnon, 
as  well  as  to  publish  the  results  of  such  unlicensed  independency 
of  mental  exercise. 

As  bclonginijr  to  a  definite  section  of  christian  ministers,  the 
Author  cannot  but  be  regarded  as  a  little  too. bold,  to  be  esteemed 
a  ])rudent  man.  It  is  marvellous  that  he  should  not  have  known 
the  })recisc  phrascolo^'  in  wiiich  he  ought  to  have  delivered  him- 
self on  most  of  these  sulyects.  Yet,  notwithstanding  this  cnor, 
notwithstanding  the  acknowledged  evil  of  it,  and  its  unknown 
consequences,  and  moreover,  notwithstanding  the  tone  of  anta- 
gonist dictatorship,  not  unfrequently  assumed  in  opposition  to 
fixed  standards  of  religious  belief,  wq  confess  that  we  have  fcU 


'Hinton^s  Harmeny  of  Religious  Truth,  415 

•  the  refreshing  influence  of  this  novelty.  We  are  ready  to  admit, 
that  there  may  be  points  in  popular  and  established  belief,  which 
"will  allow  of  reconsideration  ;  and  though  we  m^y  not  be  willing 
to  yield  the  ground  entirely  to  this  aggressive  champion,  we  will 
not  complain  that  he  obliges  us  to  repair  or  reconstruct  some  of 
our  fences. 

To  harmonize  scriptural  truth  with  reason,  will  be  thought  by 
some  to  be  an  ominous  announcement  in  the  very  title.  The 
language  of  not  a  few  is,  What  has  faith  to  do  with  reason,  ex- 
cept to  abase  it,  to  oppose  its  presumptuous  dictates,  and  to  eject 
it  from  its  usurped  dominion  ?  Many  a  professed  admirer  of 
Doddridge  venerates  maxims,  and  holds  discourse,  which  seem  to 
represent  him  as  having  been  but  ill  employed,  when  professedly 
confuting  the  work  entitled  "  Christianity  not  founded  in  argu- 
ment.*" Nevertheless  we  cannot  help  thinking  with  the  present 
Writer,  that  Christian  faith,  in  its  sublimest  exercises,  should 
not  be  irrational  faith  ;  and  that  to  discard  our  reason  under  any 
pretext  whatever,  were  an  act  in  which  it  would  be  difficult  to 
j)rove  that  we  were  not  insane.  But  if  it  may  not  be  easy  to  de- 
'termine'how  far  a  man  can  renounce  his  reason,  vilify  and  con- 
temn its  dictates,  and  yet  be  of  sound  mind ;  much  less  is  it  to 
define,  how  far  it  may  be  deemed  a  religious  effort,  to  unmake 
ourselves,  to  disclaim  the  main  distinction  of  humanity,  to  put 
out  the  mental  eye,  take  darkness  for  the  purest  light,  or  con- 
tradictions for  the  tests  of  truth.  The  impugners  of  our  reason 
must  certainly  be  still  in  the  school  of  subtilties ;  their  meaning 
is  not  to  be  understood  :  they  cannot  intend  to  say  that  religion  is 
delirium,  however  impossible,  on  their  principle,  it  may  be  to  dis- 
tinguish them. 

Many  there  are,  who  venture  to  assign  a  province  to  human 
reason,  even  in  religion,  but  who  limit  its  range  within  but  scanty 
boundaries.  They  suppose  that  there  exists  an  undefinable  pecu- 
liarity in  these  exalted  themes,  such  that  while,  on  other  subjects 
of  inquiry,  reason  must  be  wide  awake,  the  constant  guide  of 
lower  faculties,  there  are  departments  here,  from  which  it  must 
be  quite  excluded, — awful  recesses  which  we  must  enter  without 
this  leading  faculty  ;  sacred  abodes  of  thoughts  in  which,  by  vo- 
luntarily becoming  less,  we  may  imagine  ourselves  to  be  more 
than  reasonable  beings.  Yet  may  we  not  ask,  what  can  we  know 
in  theology,  more  than  in  any  other  science,  without  reason  ? 
When  the  eye  is  closed,  how  can  we  distinguish  day  from  night  ? 
On  no  subject  is  the  confusion  of  men''s  thoughts  more  perversely 
inextricable  than  on  this.  They  mistake  the  office  of  human 
reason,  and  deny  her  claims  in  matters  of  religion,  only  because 
they  attribute  to  her,  prerogatives  beyond  her  rights  on  other 
subjects.  Reason  is  not  less  at  fault  in  other  sciences  than  in 
theology,  when  she  presumes  beyond  her  province ;  nor,  when  re- 


416  Hintdn's  Bamtmy  of  Religious  Truth. 

stricted  td  her  office,  is  she  more  our  guide.     lo  other  objects  of 
thought,  she  knovs  as  little  of  the  essences,  the  intimite  modes 
of  subsistence,  as  of  the  nature  of  God,  the  mysteries  of  his 
being,  or  the  manners  of  his  operation.     To  explain  the  nature 
of  existence,  of  ponvers^  of  operation,  even  in  things  with  which 
we  are  most  familiar,  is  quite  beyond  her  range ;  nor  haTe  ve 
any  other  faculty  competent  to  the  task.     Why  then  the  distinc- 
tion so  often  made,  between  the  sphere  of  reason  on  other  subjects, 
and  on  those  to  which  religion  directs  our  contemplation  }    Do 
we  renounce  that  faculty  because  we  admit  the  nu:t  of  living 
plants,  of  living  animals,  of  the  electrical  phenomena,  or  those  i 
gravity,  though  wholly  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  their  operating 
principles,  or  the  manner  in  which  they  work  the  ends  assigned 
to  them  by  their  Creator?     Why  then  should  we  allow  a  charge 
of  irrationality  so  far  as  to  imagine  ourselves  called  upon  in  some 
long  and  laboured  efforts  to  apologise,  because  we  believe  in 
modes  of  being,  and  in  energies  connected  with  the  moral  order 
of  the  universe,  of  the  precise  nature  and  action  of  which  we  can 
give  no  account  ?     Craft,  presumption,  folly,  have  brought  thb 
accusation,  and  we  inconsiderately  have  allowed  it  to  have  it 
least  something  of  force  and  seeming  justness.     Yet  the  charge 
itself  is  destitute  even  of  colourable  pretence,  and  we  ought  to 
repel  it  with  a  merited  rebuke.     Reason,  and  the  admission  of  i 
mysterious  fact,  have  not  the  slightest  mutual  repugnance,  nor 
even  the  semblance  of  incongruity.     They  who  insinuate  the  con- 
trary, do  but  betray  their  ignorance  or  guile. 

To  sec  clearly  the  truth  of  this  remark,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
consider  what  wc  mean  by  reason.  Some  vaguely  imagine  it  to 
be  a  power  of  directly  exploring,  or  of  intuitively  discerning  the 
very  essence  of  the  objects  of  its  judgement ; — a  fallacy  which  the 
slightest  reflection  must  at  once  dispel.  Some,  again,  take  for  its 
rule,  their  own  narrow  experiences,  the  shreds  of  disorderly  know- 
ledge which  they  have  casually  thrown  together  in  their  progress 
through  life  and  intercourse  with  its  affairs ;  whence  they  mm 
a  moral  statement  to  be  reasonable  or  the  contrary,  as  it  accords 
or  disagrees  with  this  internal  standard.  One  or  other  of  these 
notions,  or  perhaps  a  mixture  of  both,  must  certainly  lie  at  the 
foundation  of  conceited  rejections  of  mystery  in  reliffion,  under 
the  pretence  of  being  rational.  Why  else  not  shew  the  inconsis* 
tency  of  mystery  witn  reason,  the  incongruity  with  it  of  belief  in 
unexplained  occurrences.^  or  rather,  why  do  not  the  rationalists  at 
once  profess  to  disbelieve  that  they  tnemselves  live,  think,  will, 
and  act  t 

The  reason  of  things  is  cither  the  necessary,  or  the  appointed 
order  of  their  existence ;  their  essen  tial  or  their  determined  connexion 
irith  each  other ;  and  the  faculty  of  reason  in  us,  is  the  mental 
power  by  which  we  ascertain  this  existing  order,  the  limits  of  such 


HintotCi  Harmony  of  ReVgtous  Truth,  417 

connexions,  and  the  conseauences  which  must  result  from  them. 
The  deductions  of  reason,  tnerefore,  if  not  founded  in  immutable 
connexions,  such  as  the  demonstrations  of  geometry,  must  have 
their  basis  in  experience,  observation,  or  testimony  worthy  of 
credit.  In  matters  of  fact,  the  sphere  of  possibles  is  immense ; 
and  as  reason  teaches  us  to  believe  nothing  with  respect  to  what 
may  be  or  the  contrary,  without  appropriate  evidence,  so  it  alike 
restricts  us  to  seek  no  other,  and  obliges  us  to  admit  its  force. 
These  principles  obviously  apply  in  religion,  as  well  as  in  history 
or  politics,  and  shew  that  faith  rightly  founded  and  reason  cannot 
be  opposed ;  or  that  faith  without  reason  is  but  fancy ;  they  shew 
also  tnat  there  is  no  similarity  between  an  unintelligible  propo- 
sition and  a  mysterioiis  fact,  to  confound  the  ideas  of  which  is 
the  business  of  the  sceptic.  The  marvellousness  of  the  fact  itself 
involves  no  necessary  ambiguity  in  the  proposition  which  asserts 
it,  nor  in  the  least  impairs  the  energy  of  its  proof  It  does  not  do 
so,  because  belief  must  be  proportioned  to  the  evidence ;  while  the 
evidence  of  a  fact  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  nature  of  the  fact 
Itself. 

All  facts  which  have  their  origin  in  the  Divine  appointment, 
are  in  themselves  beyond  our  understanding,  are  equally  inscrut- 
able ;  and  of  things  alike  above  the  limits  of  the  human  mind  to 
apprehend,  what  is  it  but  an  abuse  of  langitege,  to  apply  the 
epithets  great  or  little  to  their  mysteriousness  ?  To  be  above  our 
reason,  (as  the  common  though  fallacious  style  of  speaking  is, — 
fallacious,  because  the  sense  in  which  they  are  above  it,  or  their 
inscrutableness,  has  no  relation  to  reason  at  all,)  is  no  pecu- 
liarity of  any  class  of  physical  existences,  but  belongs  without 
distinction,  to  them  all.  The  affected  gibberish  of  the  unitarian 
Ota  this  subject,  and  the  mystical  nonsense  of  the  impugner  of  our 
reason,  ought  to  be  classed  together  as  alike  irrational. 

Sometimes,  however,  the  term  reason  is  besides  employed  to 
designate  that  power  of  the  mind  by  which,  when  faithfully  ap- 
pealed to,  we  discern  the  moral  good  or  evil  of  actions.  Viewed 
in  the  Ught  of  what  some  have  called  a  moral  sense,  or  a  direct 

Krception  of  right  and  wrong,  it  is  improperly  called  reason ; 
t,  if  intended  to  denote  the  recognition  of  a  certain  harmony 
irith  the  character  of  God,  or  tlie  relations  in  which  we  stand  to- 
wards him  or  towards  each  other,  there  is  no  impropriety  in  the 
application. 

The  absurdity  of  supposing  any  contradiction  between  religion 
and  reason  in  this  sense,  is  forcibly  put  by  the  Author. 

^  Let  it  for  the  sake  of  argument  be  supposed,  that  the  doctrines  of 
religion  do  not  accord  with  the  common  sense  of  mankind, — that  what- 
ever truth  or  justioe,  goodness  or  wisdom,  there  may  be  in  the  Gospel 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  is  of  a  kind  which  the  understanding  of  man 


418  Hinton's  Harmony  of  Religious  Truth. 

IS  not  fitted  to  discern  or  appreciate, — and  let  us  see  to  wbat  it  lead& 
It  follows  immediately,  that  in  calling  upon  us  to  obey  the  Qoipel,  our 
Maker  requires  us  to  act,  not  by  our  rational  powers,  but  withont 
them,  and  even  contrary  to  them,  since  to  act  under  the  influence  of 
motives  which  wc  do  not  understand,  is  evidently  contrary  to  tbe 
clearest  dictates  of  common  sense.  We  represent  our  Maker  then  ai 
commanding  reasonable  creatures  to  act  unreasonably.  Is  this  poni- 
ble?  To  have  been  created  with  rational  powers  is  the  peculiar  dis- 
tinction and  glory  of  mankind,  and  to  bring  our  rational  powers  into 
exercise  is  the  tendency  of  all  Ood's  natural  and  providential  arruige- 
ments.  Can  it  then  be  supposed,  that  in  our  most  important  oonoem^ 
he  means  to  degrade  us  from  the  elevation  he  has  given  us ;  and  thii 
although  we  are  to  make  use  of  our  understanding  in  every  thing  da^i 
in  reference  to  our  highest  capacity  and  our  eternal  d<»tiny,  we  are  tB 
act  the  part  of  irrational  creatures  ?  To  imagine  that  he  who  gan 
men  reason  for  their  guide,  should  thus  call  upon  them  to  act  in 
violation  of  it,  must  be  deemed  surely  nothing  less  than  absurd  f 

pp.  XT.'XTi. 

The  common  source  of  error  on  the  subject,  arises  from  a  nii^ 
understanding  of  the  doctrine  of  Divine  influence,  or  the  office 
and  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  The  all  important  declarations  of 
the  Scriptures,  so  often  repeated,  respecting  the  necessity  of  Di- 
vine instruction,  are  misinterpreted  as  if  that  supernatural  assist- 
ance must  in  some  way  suspend  the  exercise  of  our  natural 
powers.  Instead  of  the  real  humiliation  which  the  Scripture 
statement  suggests,  and  ought  to  produce,  even  the  shame  of  our 
pronencss  to  abuse  the  gifts  of  God,  the  attempt  is  unhappily 
made  to  disparage  those  gifts  themselves.  Indignation  is  di- 
rected, not  against  the  disorders  induced  by  sin,  but  against  that 
for  which,  whatever  may  be  our  pretence,  we  certainly  cannot 
blame  ourselves,  even  the  very  constitution  of  our  nature.  This 
error  is  thus  exposed  in  the  work  before  us: — 

'  It  would  be  a  very  strange  and  unwarrantable  view  of  his  woik 
(that  of  the  Holy  Spirit),  however,  if  it  were  to  be  affirmed  that, 
whereas  God  had  made  us  with  rational  powers,  he  had  sent  his  Spirit 
to  supersede  them.  In  truth  the  whole  aim  of  the  Spirit's  operation 
is  to  induce  a  right  employment  of  our  rational  faculties.  His  office  is 
to  open  the  heart,  that  we  may  attend  to  the  things  which  concern  our 
peace ;  to  give  an  effectual  impulse  to  consideration ;  in  a  word,  to  en- 
gage the  exercise  of  common  sense  on  religious  subjects— an  effort 
from  which  men  are  otherwise  withheld  by  passion  and  prejudice  in 
a  thousand  forms.  The  work  thus  allotted  to  the  Divine  Spirit  is  a 
vast  and  all-important  one  ;  and  the  condition  that  the  whole  system 
of  divine  truth  shall  in  itself  be  fitted  to  the  common  sense  of  mankind, 
far  from  being  out  of  keeping  with  it,  is  indispensable  to  the  congniity 
and  success  of  his  operations.' — pp.  xiv.  xv. 

Let  it  then  but  be  understood  what  reason  is, — that  it  is  not 
feeling,  prejudice,  the  chain  of  judgements  true  or  false,  already 


Hinton'*8  Harmoinj  of  Religious  Truth,  419- 

in  the  mind, — not  even  the  limited  demonstrations  of  the  meta- 
physician, nor  the  deductions  of  natural  science,  but  that  all- 
commanding  attribute  of  mind,  by  which,  from  whatever  source, 
or  of  whatever  kind  may  be  the  evidence,  we  judge  of  the  truth 
of  facts,  or  the  harmony  of  moral  relations  ; — and  there  can  be  no 
danger  in  its  application  to  any  part  of  religious  doctrine  or  of 
revealed  requirement ;  the  peril  is  in  the  contrary  assumption. 
To  employ  the  term  with  a  vulgar  vagueness,  and  then  to  admit 
its  incompatibility  with  faith,  is  but  to  arm  the  enemy,  and  to 
betray  the  noblest  cause  which  ever  claimed  the  homage  of  man- 
Kind. 

But  we  must  leave  this  ably  written  preface,  pervadingly  ex- 
tensive and  important  as  is  the  prineiple  which  it  successfully 
defends ; — not,  however,  without  recommending  its  salutary  warn-* 
ings  to  the  attention  of  those  readers  who  may  have  been  beguiled 
by  an  affectedly  spiritual,  but  fatally  erroneous  mode  of  speaking 
on  the  subject-;  entreating  them  at  the  same  time,  not  to  suffer 
a  sentence  or  two  of  the  Author'*s  rather  dashing  condemnation  of 
his  fellow  ministers,  to  rouse  their  prejudice,  or  to  impair  their 
judgement  on  the  general  question. 

The  first  Essay  is  on  the  fundamental  principle  of  religion, 
the  basis  of  all  we  have  to  hope  or  fear,-  the  existence  of  God.. 
Momentous  as  is  this  subject,  and  just  as  every  man  must  feel  to 
be  the  Psalmisfs  censure,  that  it  is  ^^  the  fool  who  says  in  his 
heart,  no  God ;  '*''  yet  it  is  a  melancholy  fact,  that  Tneists,  in 
their  manner  of  treating  this  great  question,  seem  to  have  done 
all  that  can  be  done  to  furnish  at  least  a  plausible  excuse  for  that 
folly.  So  little  harmony  and  consistency  exist  in  their  writings, 
that,  considering  them  as  a  body,  they  seem  to  have  endeavoured 
to  the  utmost  to  demolish  every  kind  of  evidence.  Scarcely  has 
a  single  champion  of  late  entered  the  field  of  argument,  who 
might  not  be  supposed  to  have  felt  it  to  be  his  first  duty,  to 
destroy  the  credit  of  his  coadjutors.  He  must  himself  be  the 
only  trusty  guide,  and  his  favourite  kind  of  proof  must  be  without 
a  rival. 

One  class  of  Theologians  affirm,  that  all  our  knowledge  of  the 
being  of  God  must  be  derived  immediately  from  Revelation: 
another,  among  whom  is  the  Author  before  us,  asserts,  that  no 
such  fact  is  revealed  in  the  Scriptures. 

'  It  is,'  he  says,  *  with  the  most  perfect  propriety  and  with  the  most 
admirable  wisdom,  that  God  has  no  where  in  his  word  asserted  his  own 
existence.  Aware  that,  in  order  to  speak  with  effect,  he  should  be 
known  before  he  speaks,  he  spreads  his  works  before  us,  as  a  sufficient 
and  a  complete  demonstration  of  his  existence,  entirely  apart  from  his 
word.  To  vindicate  his  claim  to  be,  he  leaves  to  the  heavens  which 
declare  his  glory,  and  to  the  firmament  which  shcweth  forth  his  handv 
work,  to  the  days  which  utter  knowledge^  and  to  the  nights  which 
proclaim  wisdom.* 


490  Hintou's  Harmtmy  of  Religious  Truth. 

The  Rev.  Alexander  Crombie,  D.D.,  attacks  the  metaphysical 
arguments  of  Clarke ;  and  the  Rev.  A.  Norman,  B.  A.,  with  simihur 
zeal,  denies  the  relevancy  of  any  part  of  the  principles  on  which 
Dr.  Crombie  builds  the  fabric  of  his  reasoning.  When  will  Rev. 
Gentlemen  cease  thus  unwittingly  to  play  the  cards  of  the  Athe- 
ist ?  Is  it  in  them  a  worthy  ambition,  to  shew  with  how  much 
superior  skill  and  energy  they  can  perform  the  work  of  the 
enemy  ?  Is  there  any  department  of  nature  or  science  in  which 
the  proofs  of  the  Divine  existence  do  not  press  around  us  ?  Are 
they  not  as  diversified  in  kind,  as  there  are  classes  of  mental 
structure,  habit,  or  taste  amongst  our  species  ?  The  argument 
which  works  with  mighty  energy  in  the  bosom  of  this  man,  may 
be  but  feebly  discerned  by  thdt,  while  yet  it  may  be  quite  as  just 
and  forcible  as  the  favoured  one  by  which  his  neighbour  is  im- 
pressed. One,  however,  thinks  he  honours  his  intellect,  md 
forwards  his  cause,  by  exploding  Des  Cartes ;  another  by  repu- 
diating Clarke.  This  writer  will  have  no  a  pnori  proof :  that  rejects 
entirely  the  d  posteriori  argument,  as  built,  he  tells  us,  only  upon 
an  unsupported  analogy  between  the  works  of  nature  and  those 
of  man.  A  fifth  will  have  it,  that  when  we  even  examine  other 
evidence,  wc  dishonour  Revelation ;  and  the  sixth  declares  that 
Revelation,  from  the  first,  assumes  this  fundamental  fkct.  It  is 
with  pain  that  we  make  these  observations ;  but  surely  the  time  is 
come,  when  those  who  would  not  betray  the  happiness  and  hope 
of  man,  must  look  beyond  their  personal  fame,  must  suspend 
their  skirmishing  with  each  other,  and  honourably  combine  their 
efforts  in  the  common  cause.  Comparing  the  evidences,  as  they 
now  stand  in  the  works  even  of  Divines,  for  the  all-momentous 
truth  of  the  Being  of  God,  they  are  absolutely  neutralised ; — 
each  one  class  of  those  Reverend  advocates  denying  the  premises 
of  the  other  classes,  until  the  sum  of  all  is  mere  nihility.  What  a 
humiliating  proof  of  human  weakness ! 

Yet,  after  all  the  misdirected  efforts  of  our  public  writers 
against  each  other,  and  the  hazy  obscurity  which,  in  consequence, 
tliey  have  succeeded  in  throwing  round  this  fundamental  truth, 
it  will  at  last  be  found,  that  our  glorious  Maker  has  not  left  him- 
self without  witness; — that  he  has  taken  ample  care,  in  our  veiy 
constitution,  to  prevent  the  end  of  man,  which  is  to  know,  to 
honour,  and  to  enjoy  him,  from  being  finally  frustrated,  without 
laborious  efforts  on  our  parts  to  undo  ourselves.  On  the  leading 
points,  the  being  of  God,  his  government,  and  our  accountability, 
no  more  is  necessary  than  simply  to  trust,  that  convictions  the 
most  spontaneous,  intimate,  and  primary,  are  not  fallacious  ;  and 
so  trusting,  whatever  the  medium  of  contemplation,  we  shall  fed 
and  know  the  truth.  Call  these  convictions,  the  dictates  of 
common  sense,  or  give  them  any  other  appellation,  they  are  nuni- 
festly  too  powerful  and  peremptory  to  be  rejected,  without  un- 
humanizing  our  whole  nature,  and  leaving  us  to  be  the  pitiable 


HiDton''s  Harmony  of  Religious  Truth.  421 

sport  of  every  vain  surmise.  Short  and  unelaborate,  therefore, 
as  is  the  first  essay  in  this  volume,  and  notwithstanding  he  has 
selected  as  its  basis,  the  very  argument  which  Crombie  has  re- 
pudiated,— repudiated,  in  fact,  for  want  of  logical  form,  rather 
than  for  deficiency  of  solid  strength ; — yet,  the  Author  has  so 
lodged  in  the  bosom  of  the  reader,  the  conclusion  at  which  he 
aims,  that  no  unsophisticated  understanding  can  resist  its 
force. 

The  second  essay  is  on  the  Capacity  of  Man ; — a  most  im- 
portant subject,  involving  essentially  the  principles  of  moral  ac- 
countability. Every  man  feels  the  difficulty  of  escaping  from 
the  sentiment  that  he  is  accountable,  and  in  the  affairs  of  life  in- 
fallibly experiences  the  fact;  but  the  '*  darkeners  of  counsel'* 
have  here  also  been  most  mischievously  active  in  their  efforts  to 
weaken  its  power  in  relation  to  God,  and  to  the  claims  of  re- 
ligion. 

The  least  observant  of  mankind  cannot  but  perceive  the  in- 
fluence of  external  things  upon  his  thoughts,  feelings,  and  cha- 
racter ;  nor  less  does  every  man  discover  a  strong  reluctance  in 
his  heart,  to  be  controlled  by  considerations  of  what  is  holy,  just, 
and  good.  These  perceptions  are  in  very  lively  and  frequent 
exercise,  and  therefore  ..trongly  operate  on  our  opinions  respect- 
ing the  constitution  of  our  mental  nature.  For  the  artful  cor- 
rupter of  his  fellow-men,  to  seize  on  these  advantages  of  attack 
on  the  moral  principle,  is  according  to  the  common  course  of  hu- 
man depravity ;  and  for  the  indolent,  the  superficial,  and  the 
wiUing  victim  to  become  his  dupe,  an  almost  necessary  conse- 
quence. Hence  the  welcome  error,  that  man  is  altogether  the 
creature  of  circumstances,  not  unfrequently  propounded  with 
much  complacency  of  seeming  wisdom ;  and  hence  the  unguarded 
dogmas  of  the  vulgar  theologians  on  the  incapacity  of  man  to 
perform  the  requirements  of  his  Maker.  Admit,  however,  these 
facile  maxims,  and  it  is  plain  that  our  ideas  of  guilt  and  virtue 
become  uselessly  indistinct ;  moral  obligation,  not  only  a  mys- 
tery but  a  contradiction ;  religion  itself,  where  it  exists,  a  happy 
accident,  and  the  want  of  it,  at  most,  a  pitiable  misfortune. 

The  Scriptures,  in  their  exhortations,  warnings,  threatenings, 
denounce  these  strange  conclusions ;  but,  amidst  the  din  of  spu- 
rious metaphysicians  and  conceited  theologues,  the  voice  of  Scrip- 
ture is  inaudible.  The  religionists,  indeed,  some  from  dulness  of 
the  apprehensive  faculty,  and  some,  even  from  simple,  but  un- 
instructed  piety,  imagine  that  they  have  Scripture  on  their  side. 
The  former,  quoting  a  few  figurative  passages  as  if  they  were 
plain  descriptive  representations,  with  confidence  main  tarn  that 
man  is  really  but  a  moving  corpse,  is  actually  dead,  though 
seemingly  alive ;  and  the  latter  adopt  the  cheat,  because  they 
have  formed  the  notion,  that,  in  depriving  man   of  his  capa- 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  3  o 


429  Hlnton'^  Harmomf  of  Religwm  Truth. 

cities,  they  humble  him,  and  honour  Grace.  Theae  cagar 
blcrs  of  mankind  do  not  discern  the  fact,  that,  howerer  ]»DDd  d 
intellect,  men  arc  but  little  wont  to  be  proud  ct  accountabilitjii 
The  more  you  make  them  irresponsible,  the  more  you  minutarla 
pride ;  nor  can  you  so  effectually  accomplish  thia  result,  as  bj 
allowing  them  the  fond  delusion,  that,  possessitig  what  they  miy 
beside,  they  arc  incapacitated  to  ol>ey  the  will  of  God.  They 
feel  at  once  the  irrefragable  consequence,  that  their  not  6xiag 
what  they  literally  cannot  do,  can  never  press  their  oonacieiioei 
with  guilt.  Morally  to  humble  us,  we  must  feel  the  defect  to  h^ 
where  in  truth  it  is,  not  in  power,  but  in  will;  in  inclinatifNi, 
not  in  incapacity.  The  difference,  often  overlooked,  is  dearly 
between  want  of  power  for  merely  mental,  and  for  moral  acts: 
to  be  made  conscious  of  the  former,  is  naturally  humiliating;  to 
imagine  the  latter,  is  the  very  relief  to  which  depravity  will  {^adb 
run.  Level  but  moral  distinctions,  and  every  passion,  pim 
Hmongst  the  rest,  will  wanton  in  its  license.  Power  for  nonl 
acts,  of  which  we  speak,  is  not  to  be  confounded,  however,  with 
inclination,  or  a  disposition  to  obey ;  it  obviously  means,  ability 
of  every  kind  the  case  requires,  except  that  disposition;  power 
such,  that,  were  we  so  disposed,  nothing  would  obstruct  our  ac- 
tual obedience.  Of  this,  we  are  always  m  the  Scriptures  regarded 
as  in  full  possession ;  and  nothing  can  be  more  demonstrable, 
than  that,  without  it,  we  cannot  be  the  subjects  of  accounta^ 
bility. 

But  the  fallacies  above  described,  the  pseudo-philosophic  in- 
ference that  man  is  but  the  creature  of  circumstances ;  and  the 
dictum  of  mongrel  theology,  that,  through  the  sin  of  Adam,  hu- 
man nature  has  lost  the  capacity  as  well  as  the  disposition  to  obey 
and  honour  God,  are,  in  this  Essay,  exposed  and  condemned. 
Nor  can  we  omit  to  state  that,  in  the  judicious  omission  of  the 
epithets  moral  and  natural,  added  to  ability,  employed  by  most 
of  our  Divines,  the  discussion  has  an  advantage  in  perspicuity 
and  therefore  in  effect.  While  awarding  this  praise,  however, 
we  must  remark,  that  there  is  one  omission,  in  our  view  important, 
to  which  we  shall  have  occasion,  in  a  future  part  of  this  article, 
particularly  to  advert. 

The  third  Essay,  on  Divine  Revelation,  calls  for  no  further 
remark,  than  that,  with  conciseness  and  perspicuity,  the  Author 
has  given  in  it,  a  selection  from  the  proofs  of  the  sacred  origin  and 
authority  of  the  Scriptures,  with  some  general  observations  on 
nbjections  against  its  claims,  and  on  the  diflficulties  with  which  it 
stands  connected.  To  enter  at  large  upon  this  subject  would 
have  been  inconsistent  with  the  principal  design,  while  enough  is 
stated  to  satisfy  a  candid  inquirer,  and  more  than  enough  for  an 
unbeliever  ever  to  be  able  to  refute. 

In  the  succeeding  Essay,  on  the  Revealed  Character  of  God, 


Hinton''s  Harmony  of  Religious   Truth.  423 

we  cannot  but  discern  the  inconveniences  which  must  arise  from 
an  attempt  to  compress  within  the  narrowest  ^its,  those  subjects 
which,  by  their  complication,  their  remoteness  from  ordinary 
trains  of  thought,  and  their  stupendous  majesty,  require  the  mind 
to  be  led  forward  step  by  step,  to  the  gradual  attainment  of  a 
congruous  and  becoming  apprehension  of  them.  The  view  here 
presented  is  not  only  of  necessity  a  mere  outline  of  those  parts  of 
the  Divine  character  which  have  the  most  practical  bearing  on  the 
condition  and  prospects  of  man  ;  but  even  that  outline  is  obliged 
to  be  presented  to  us  in  language  so  popularly  figurative,  that, 
while  it  produces  a  feeling  of  repugnance  in  the  bosom  of  the 
more  reflective  reader,  tends  to  generate  even  in  the  less  tutored 
mind  a  confusion  of  ideas,  and  a  sentiment,  not  indeed  that  God 
is  *^  altogether  such  an  one  as  we  are,'*'*  but  that  such  is  the  resem- 
blance as  greatly  to  depreciate  the  awe  of  Majesty.  It  must  in- 
deed  be  allowed,  that  we  cannot  conceive  of  the  Almighty  as  he 
18  in  himself;  that  our  knowledge  of  him  must  be  relative ;  and 
that  how  inadequate  soever  may  be  the  analogical  conceptions  to 
which  our  nature  is  restricted,  yet  there  must  be  truth,  and  truth 
sufficient  for  our  guidance,  in  our  ideas  when  properly  modified  by 
the  exclusion  of  those  imperfections,  of  which  we  must  be  certain 
that  they  cannot  appertain  to  him.  Yet  we  cannot  but  think  that 
this  last  process  is  essential  to  the  entertainment  of  that  reverence 
which  it  becomes  us  habitually  to  cherish,  as  well  as  to  disen- 
cumber our  minds  of  every  approach  to  the  feeling  of  contradic- 
tion. In  ordinary  discourses,  we  cannot  indeed  be  expected  al- 
ways to  measure  and  guard  our  language  according  to  this  rule; 
but  in  an  essay  expressly  on  the  subject,  and  that  in  a  work  on 
fthe  *  Harmony  of  Religious  Truth  and  Human  Reason,^  more  of 
this  accuracy  may  seem  to  be  required. 

Now  in  this  essay,  while  enforcing  the  doctrine  of  the  Spiri- 
tuality of  God,  we  have  a  distribution  of  the  objects  of  our 
thought,  according  to  their  properties,  into  matter  and  spirit ;  and 
we  are  cautioned  against  confounding  these  diversities,  so  as  to 
apply  the  peculiarities  of  the  one  to  the  nature  of  the  other. 
Yet,  we  are  told,  that  a  ^  Spirit,  like  matter,  is  capable  of  having 
^  limits  \ — as  well  as,  that  a  ^  Spirit  may  be  without  limits,  of  a 
^  magnitude  and  extent  altogether  boundless.^  Who  does  not 
feel  from  ^is  announcement,  axid  especially  when  connected  with 
a  representation  of  the  Divine  presence  as  *  filling  Heaven  and 
*  earth  \  that  he  is  altogether  conversant  with  a  bodily  or  mate- 
rial idea?  We  are  indeed  told,  that  *  limit \  while  essential  to 
matter,  is  not  so  to  spirit ;  but  we  have  no  hint  whereby  to  free 
our  minds  from  the  application  of  that  same  notion  of  limit  which 
matter  suggests, — the  boundary  of  a  line  or  surface.  Now  when, 
in  Scripture,  God  is  said  to  fill  heaven  and  earth,  it  is  manifestly 
a  figure,  and  refers  to  a  mental  filling  of  knowledge,  power,  and 

3  G  2 


434  Hintoii*s  Harmony  of  ReKgions  Truth, 

operation :  but  here  it  is  introdaced  into  a  disccssion  of  the  St 
ferences  between  the  properties  of  matter  and  spirit ;  and  yet  ii 
such  a  manner  as  to  confound,  rather  than  separate  the  notioni 
vhich  we  are  wont  to  form  of  them  respectiTely. 

Again  we  are  told  of  the  Supreme  Being,  that  He  '  percciTei^ 
*  thinks,  feels,  resolves,  and  acts.^  When  we  perceive,  we  lie 
passively  affected  by  objects  without  us,  through  the  medium  of 
our  senses ;  when  we  think,  it  is  a  laborious  process  by  which  we 
collect  scattered  ideas ;  when  we  resolve,  we  weigh  opposing  Tet> 
tons,  deliberate,  and  judge  of  their  respective  forces ;  and  these 
are  circumstances  which  plainly  indicate  an  imperiection  which 
Divines,  in  the  age  of  thought,  were  ctieful  to  exclude  from  the 
notion  entertained  of  God ;  considered  as  a  purely  spiritual  Beinff. 
We  are  aware  that  these  abstractions  are  not  in  harmony  widi 
modem  habits ;  but  how  far  the  customary  approach  to  a  MQ- 
tonic  anthropomorphism  may  be  an  improvement,  or  conducive  to 
the  healthy  exercise  of  a  profound  adoration,  we  submit  to  oar 
readers. 

On  the  distinction  which,  according  to  Revelation,  subsists  in 
the  Godhead,  or  *'  the  United  Trinity  though  not  a  separate  Three\ 
we  are  sorry  that  our  Author  should  have  quoted  as  proof  the  dis- 
puted text ;  because,  being  contested  not  less  by  friends  than  1^ 
foes  to  the  important  doctrine,  it  ceases  to  be  convincing  evi- 
dence,  and  its  production  unnecessarily  suggests  the  thought  of  a 
paucity  in  proof  of  this  fundamenul  article  of  Christian  belief 

^Vhcn  God  is  said  to  cause  unhappiness,  even  when  the  term 
is  limited  to  punishment  for  sin,  we  doubt  its  strict  propriety. 
The  cause,  we  think,  is  rather  that  which  causes  punishment, 
than  either  the  punishment  itself  or  the  punisher.  Af oreover,  is 
it  not  somewhat  doubtful,  whether  wc  should  say  explicitly, 
that 

*  Though  innumerable  and  aggravated  offences  have  been  committed 
against  God,  he  resents  none,  he  retaliates  none,  he  punishes  none  ;  on 
the  contrary,  he  overlooks  all,  and  makes  his  sun  to  shine  on  the  evil 
and  on  the  good.  When  he  is  spoken  of  in  the  Scripture,  as  punish- 
ing iniquity,  it  is  not  as  a  matter  of  his  own  inclination,  or  as  induced 
by  aiitf  bearing  of  the  offence  against  himself,  but  these  declarations 
always  relate  to  iniquity  as  a  crime  against  his  government,  and  to  his 
conduct  in  the  punishment  of  it  as  a  governor  and  judge  '? 

We  find  here  no  fault  with  the  distinction  introduced,  but  think 
it  on  the  contrary  to  be  of  the  first  importance,  and  too  frequently 
overlooked.  Still  we  maj'  justly  question,  whether  the  language 
is  constructed  with  sufficient  care  to  avoid  injurious  error.  We 
certainly  ought  to  deem  the  virus  of  our  sin  to  consist  in  its  being 
committed  against  the  existence  and  authority  of  God^  himself; 
though,  such  may  be  his  clemency,  (as  in  fact  we  find  it  is  by  the 


Hinton^s  Harmoiiy  of  Religious  Truth.  425 

admisaion  of  atonement,)  that  his  punishments  are  not  vindictive, 
but  judicial. 

The  remarks  on  sovereignty  and  supremacy,  we  recommend  to 
serious  consideration,  since  on  these  subjects,  important  as  they 
are,  the  popular  judgements,  and  even  those  frequently  inculcated 
from  the  pulpit,  are  not  only  conftised,  but  unworthy  of  the  glo- 
rious Being  to  whom  they  are  applied.  Still,  even  here,  when 
the  Author  describes  the  exercise  of  Divine  supremacy  as  m- 
ducing  voluntary  agents  to  choose  what  he  intends  they  should 
do  by  a  direct  influence,  we  apprehend  he  speaks  inaccurately. 
To  induce,  is  to  incite  by  motive,  which  cannot  be  done  by  the 
direct  influence  of  supremacy. 

The  observations  on  election  and  predestination,  though  but 
thrown  out  in  passing  onward,  are  clear  and  judicious, — a  gleam 
athwart  the  palpable  obscure  of  those  so  often  agitated  subjects. 

The  £ssay  on  God^s  moral  government  of  man,  and  that 
which  follows,  on  the  effects  of  the  fall,  imbodying  as  they  do 
important  distinctions  and  elucidations,  must  yet  be  characterised 
as  giving  a  rapid,  loose,  and  general  survey,  rather  than  a  close 
and  accurate  discussion  of  the  subjects ;  nor  are  they  without  a 
spice  of  rash  assertion,  as  well  as  incorrectness  in  their  state- 
ments. 

We  are,  indeed,  informed  that  *  it  is  not  by  obedience  to  thelaws, 

*  that  God  now  requires  or  expects  us  as  transgressors  to  seek 

*  eternal  life ;  ^  but  it  is  throughout  implied,  that  even  since  the 
&D,  coming  into  the  world  as  we  do  in  infancy,  acquiring  as  we 
do  by  slow  gradations  the  use  of  reason,  yet  that  eternal  life 
might  have  been  so  attained  by  us,  had  it  been  the  pleasure  of 
God  to  have  left  us  under  that  predicament.  We  certainly  un- 
derstand the  Apostle  to  teach  the  contrary,  when  he  assures  us, 
that  "  if  there  had  been  a  law  given  which  could  have  given  life, 
verily  righteousness  had  come  by  law  :  ^  that  is,  as  we  conceive, 
did  any  law  which  God  has  given,  admit  of  our  becoming  righ- 
teous  by  it,  that  righteousness  would  certainly  have  been  without 
remedy  demanded.  Nor  do  we  see  the  need  of  supposing  what 
has  never  been  the  fact,  or  of  defending  what  we  assume  the  Su- 
preme Governor  in  that  case  might  have  done,  since  it  is  quite 
sufficient  for  us  to  vindicate  the  justice  and  elucidate  the  goodness 
of  what  he  actually  has  done.  God  never  did  place  the  posterity 
of  Adam  so  under  the  law,  as  to  require  its  fulfilments  in  order 
to  final  happiness ;  and  what  he  has  omitted  to  do,  he  has  so 
omitted  wisely  and  righteously.  A  dispensation  of  law,  as  the 
rule  of  God'^s  dealing  with  man,  has  never  been  in  force  since  the 
fall ;  for,  before  the  birth  of  the  first  child  of  man,  a  dispensation 
of  grace  and  favour,  not  of  law,  was  instituted,  and  only  such  a 
dispensation.  Those,  indeed,  in  all  ages,  who  have  cither  tacitly 
or  explicitly  rejected  this  system  of  favour,  have  had,  and  they 


426  Hinton's  Harmony  of  RMgious  Truth. 

could  have,  but  one  alternatiTe, — that  of  being  bound  to  xi^ 
perfection,  a  condition  in  which  they  voluntarily  placed  tbcm- 
selves.     Claiming  to  be  independent  of  favour,  and  resting  on 
our  own  sufficiency,  we  must  of  course  fiiU  back  upon  the  rak  <if 
perfect  humanity,  and  that  alone  must  be  the  law  by  which  ov 
vain  pretensions  must  be  tried  and  judged.     In  no  other  can  ne 
we,  or  have  any  been,  ^*  under  law,  but  under  grace ;  ^  whih^ 
both  to  repress  the  folly  of  this  assumption,  and  to  meaiore  it, 
the  law  so  far  must  ever  be  in  force.     If,  disdaining  mediatioB, 
and  neglecting  proftered  aid,  we  claim  to  stand  acquitted  at  the 
bar  of  God,  what  less  can  he  require  of  us,  than   to  have  been 
exactly  what  a  being  perfect  in  its  kind  would  be  ?     The  law  thn 
measures  failure,  convicts  the  self-suflBcient,  and  becomes  our 
rigid  schoolmaster  to  bring  us  to  Christ     This  in  reality  has  ever 
been  its  office ;  for  in  every  age,  not  only  in  fact,  righteonsnesi 
has  not  come  by  law,  but,  under  the  circumstances,  it  never  could 
have  been  so  attained.     This  defect  arises,  not  beoiiue  if  indeed 
perfectly  fulfilled,  the  law  would  fail  to  secure  immortal  life,  nor 
yet  because  we  have  not  the  executive  capacity  to  keep  ixif  we 
v'illy  nor  that  we  have  not  the  power  to  cminge  our  will  by  intn^ 
ducing  trains  of  thought  adapted  to  that  end,  as,  on  supposition  of 
such  defect,  the  reasoning  of  this  book  implies  it  must ;  but  in 
reality  because  the  idea  is  inconsistent  with  the  very  condition  in 
which  the  law  first  finds  us.     The  difference  must  necessarily  be 
essential,  between  a  system  of  recovery  to  a  state  already  lost, 
and  one  of  which  the  trial  must  hinge  upon  a  perseverance  in  the 
state  in  which  we  already  are.      Is  there  any  moment  of  our 
being,  in  which  the  law  of  God  docs  not  ijufanfer  claim  that  we 
should  really  love  him  ;  and  admitting  the  act  to  be  within  our 
power,  would  the  avquiaition  of  that  love  be  such  a  fulfilment  of 
required  obedience  as  to  entitle  us  to  life  ?     This  is  a  question 
which  Mr.  Hinton  has  not  answered,  though  of  vital  moment  to 
his  argument. 

Without  particularizing  more  at  length,  we  may  observe,  that 
the  vagueness  we  complain  of  in  these  Essays,  may  be  shewn  to 
have  its  origin  in  the  following  sources. 

1.  God'*s  moral  government  is  sometimes  so  described  as  plainly 
to  be  limited  to  law,  the  law  of  perfect  love  to  God  and  man ; 
and  yet  is  sometimes  confounded  with  a  different  system ;  as  when, 
amongst  the  motives  to  obedience  which  are  connected  with  its 
sanctions,  are  enumerated  the  "  mercies  of  God.*" 

2.  God  is  represented  as  having,  since  the  fall,  really  insti- 
tuted this  dispensation  of  law ;  whereas  at  no  time  has  He  ac- 
tually held  fallen  man  to  a  fulfilment  of  it,  but  in  every  age  has 
presupposed  a  failure,  and  placed  him  under  a  mediatorial  system 
of  recovery.  An  appeal  to  mercy,  place  for  repentance,  has  been 
always  exhibited  in  God's  revealed  will ;  a  tact  inconsistent  with 


Hinton^'s  Harmony  of  Religious  Truth.  427 

fA  law.  Then  and  then  only  are  we  really  under  law,  it  is  im- 
fftant  to  repeat,  when  we  place  ourselves  in  that  situation,  either 
^  oitirely  rejecting  deliverance,  or  by  refusing  to  accept  it  in  the 
ty  in  which  alone  it  is  exhibited  for  our  acceptance.  If  we  will 
wiify  ourselves,  then  must  the  law  become  the  standard,  the  just 
kd  only  standard  by  which  such  pretensions  can  be  tried.  Cor- 
etly  does  it  then  apply  to  the  condition,  not  in  which  we  ac- 
«lly  are,  but  in  which  we  contumaciously  assume  to  be. 

3.  The  Author  does  not  distinguish  between  the  case  of  one 
ho,  firom  the  first,  should  be  in  the  full  exercise  of  reason,  with 
I  his  mental  powers  in  their  maturity ;  and  that  condition  in 
bidi  we  are  actually  introduced  to  being  and  probation  ; — the 
dmal  first  prevailing,  while  the  mental,  and  especially  the  ra- 
mal  fitculties,  with  whatever  furniture  may  be  requisite  for  their 
■derly  exercise,  are  in  the  rear,  and  come  up  slowly  to  their 
KBgth  and  bearing. 

4.  While  we  have  the  process  of  a  change  of  mind  described, 
id,  through  the  use  of  means,  its  practicability  strongly  asserted ; 

•eems  to  be  assumed  that,  should  such  a  change  at  any  time, 
KNXgfa  slowly,  be  efFeeted,  it  would  satisfy  the  requisitions  of 
rod^s  law  ;  whereas  it  must  at  once  be  seen,  that  such  a  capa- 
lity  of  change,  how  much  soever  it  may  be  granted,  can  never 
leet  the  case.  This  change  implies  aversion  before  love,  and 
m  provides  no  remedy  for  this  preceding  breach  of  its  require- 
lent.  It  measures  precisely  what  we  ought  to  be,  from  first  to 
tat,  in  order  to  be  perfect  beings ;  but  this  is  not  what  God  insists 
pon  that  we  should  meet  or  perish.  The  process  of  his  dealing 
iA  lapsed  men  is  curative :  from  first  to  last,  he  calls  upon  them 
I  take  the  remedy  which  he  himself  provides  against  the  conse- 
imiees  of  the  fall,  while,  in  case  of  their  presumptive  disregard 
f  idiis  provision,  he  cannot  change  the  rule.  He  cannot  give  an 
Bperiect  measure  of  what  we  ought  to  be,  or  lower  the  standard 
>  meet  the  case  of  superinduced  aversion  from  his  holy  nature. 
(och  a  law  were  inconsistent  with  his  attributes,  and  is  no- 
•liere  found  in  Scripture. 

The  essay  on  '  a  Future  State,^  is,  in  general,  a  clear  and 
Dvcible,  a  condensed  and  convincing  argument;  though  not  en- 
irely  fVee  from  ill-judged  because  ill-weighed  assertions  of  a  start- 
ing nature,  to  surprise  by  which  appears  a  predilection  of  the 
Vriter. 

That  on  *  the  Elements  of  Future  Happiness  and  Misery,^ 
lao,  iaa  well  written,  powerful  exposure  of  prevailing  errors, 
bar  in  its  elucidation  of  Scriptural  figures,  and  both  convincing 
nd  impressive  in  its  reasoning  and  appeals.  Correct  conceptions 
n  diis  subject  are  of  high  importance,  whether  viewed  in  eon- 
ection  with  the  character  of  God,  or  with  our  own  motives  and 


428  Hinton^s  Harmony  of  Rdigiaus  Truth. 

feelings,  with  indeed  all  the  blended  prinriples  of  mental  or  a* 
temal  action  which  together  constitute  religion. 

That  most  awful  of  considerations,  *  the  Eternity  of  Futm 
Punishment/  is  treated  in  the  next  essay,  .and  with  the  taids 
calmness  of  inquiry  which  its  solemnity,  combined  with  the  m- 
jesty  of  that  authority  on  which  alone  the  doctrine  rests,  mot 
necessarily  produce  on  every  regulated  mind.  The  argomcB^ 
indeed,  is  extended  through  the  following  essay,  though,  rrom  ill 
title,  ^  the  Accusatory  Spirit  of  the  Gospel,**  this  might  anl 
have  been  anticipated.  In  both,  the  usual  objections  and  eva- 
sions arc  considered,  and  opposed  with  much  appropriate  remtfti 
and  well  directed  addresses  to  the  judgement,  rather  than  any  ts^ 
ritic  appeals  to  the  imagination  or  the  passions. 

Few  things  are,  indeed,  more  marvellous,  than  that  anypfr 
sons  who  profess  to  build  their  hopes  and  fiears  upon  the  w<na  i 
God,  can  have  attained  to  any  settled  confidence  in  the  temponij 
duration  of  future  suffering;  not  only  against  the  absolute  silcDif 
of  the  Scriptures  respecting  the  supposed  deliverance  on  wUck 
they  calculate,  but  against  so  many  urgent  representatioDS  ni 
implications  to  the  contrary.  Yet,  with  how  much  rash  pcfeop' 
toriness  and  bold  endeavour  to  propagate  the  same  convictiaiii 
do  men  speak  and  write  upon  this  most  momentous  subject !  It 
notwithstanding  the  statements  made  to  us,  we  might  suppose  il 
to  be  possible  that  some  ftiture  rescue  may  be  granted,  yet,  evtf 
in  that  case,  it  is  plain  that  the  Author  of  the  Scriptures  has  bbK 
intended  such  a  hope  to  interfere  with  his  present  administiatioOi 
The  hope  itself  too,  if  indulged,  is  always  found  to  be  injuriooii 
for,  strange  as  is  the  folly,  it  is  manifest  in  general,  that  he  win 
entertains  it,  though  admitting  punishment  to  come^a  pomib- 
ment  too  dreadful  and  protracted  for  us  to  bear  a  steady  realia- 
tiou  of  it  in  our  thoughts,  feels  his  energies  relaxed,  andceiM 
to  rank  amongst  those  who  give  every  diligence  to  make  their 
calling  and  election  sure.  AVhence  is  this,  but  from  that  samed^ 
ccption  of  the  heart,  to  which,  we  fear,  the  hope  itself,  and  all  the 
laboured  ingenuity  by  which  it  is  defended,  must  owe  its  origin? 
Painful  as  is  the  task,  therefore,  the  faithfbl  Minister  must  not 
only  lifl  the  voice  of  warning,  but  seek  to  dispassess  theflatteriof 
delusion. 

Ably  our  Author  has  attempted  this,  while  yet,  we  thiak,  t 
^eater  prominence  might  have  advantageously  been  given,  to  the 
important  facts,  first,  that  the  eternity  of  future  punishment  doei 
not  really  spring  from  temporary  crime  alone,  but  from  the  etcrnel 
propagation  of  sin  itself,  and  is  the  consequence  of  having  finalif 
neglected  the  day  of  profllred  interposition,  to  deliver  from  iti 
power ; — and  next,  that  whatever  its  duration,  its  intensity  wiB 
be  proportioned  to  an  unerring  and  a  just  award. 


Hmton''s  Harmony  of  Religious   Truth.  439 

.  In  the  first  part  of  the  essty  on  "  Hezcdiur}-  Dcprarityr  ho* 
Ucib  soever  at  variance  with  a  great  deal  of  pjpuUr  declamation, 
f0  conceive  that  the  Author  has  veil  >upported  a  distinaion  as 
jBiportant  as  it  is  just     The  fact  itself  oi  herediLanr  depravity, 

tnot  only  admits,  but  proves,  and  compares  it  vitb  a  &iV]«  .-  but 
lies  that  this  depravity,  or  the  bias  itself,  while  undeveloped 
p  Jtn  infant,  can  be  justly  represented,  as  ^de«erving  GikI's 
rrach  and  damnation/  Such  a  representation  may  perplex  and 
Minify,  but  never  can  convince  our  reason,  nor  actUi&Uy  produce 
Hie  emotion  springing  out  of  crime. 

'  If  however/  says  the  Autfior,  sirartly,  '  anv  one  should  ^t:Il  in- 
kt  that  a  bias  to  evil  is  an  evil  bias,  and  must  deserve  ponishment,  I 
mkj  sayj  then  let  the  evil  bias  suffer  the  punishment  it  deserves  ;  bet 
■C  the  punishment  be  confined  to  the  hiat,  which  does  deserve  it.  and 
■a  not  an  atom  of  it  fall  upon  the  poor  unfortunate  innocent  in  whom 
k  ia»  not  only  involuntarily,  but  unconsciously  lodged. '  p.  255. 

.    We  acknowledge  the  sound  sense  of  this  remark,  and  of  the 
fiacussion  generally  of  this  part  of  the  subject;  but  in  the  subse- 
qpieot  portion  of  the  Essay,  the  same  contusion  prevails  as  in  the 
jiVBsideration  of  God'^s  moral  government,  to  which  we  have  be- 
■fare  adverted.     The  Author  maintains  the  equity  of  our  '  trial/ 
.notwithstanding  the  bias,  and  yet  does  not  with  any  distinctness 
I  fo&mn  us  what  the  trial  is.     The  whole  implication  is,  that  we 
j^fn  actually  under  a  trial  constituted  according  to  the  full  measure 
^tl£  law,  while   yet  the  argument   perpetually  implies  re]X'ated 
Culnre,  and  urges  only  the  possibility  of  ukiuiately  corning  up  to 
its  demands.     But  unless  the  Go.spel  remedy  be  included  in  the 
definition,  is  there  any  law  which  does  admit  this  previous  evil 
Coexist,  and  yet  can  justify.^     Is  it   true   that  fallen  men  were 
mfer  placed  by  God  under  the  single  operation  of  law,  considered 
0M  a  measure  of  perfection,  so  that  the  '  trial"  could  be  said  to 
Jbe,  whether   he  would  i'lilHl   that  law   or  otherwise.^     In  our 
judgement,  we  must  say  decidedly,  never :  such  trial,  considered 
MM  instituted  by  God,  is  but  imaginary.     Men  in  their  pride  may 
4daim  to  be  so  tried;  they  may  claim  a  sort  of  independent  being 
and  excellence ;  and,  by  neglecting  the  restoration  provided  and 
pniclaimed,  they  actually  do  so,  and  must  take  the  consequence, 
while  in  fact,  now  they  will  act  in  this  particular,  is  the  very 
*  triar  under  which  they  live.       He  that  justifies  himself  will 
be  proved  to  have  been  pcr\'erse.     Too  haughty  to  admit  him- 
self to  be  what  he  is^  he  judges  falsely,  and  this  false  judgement 
proves   to  be  his  ruin.      Humility    is    not  confined  to  the  ac- 
knowledgement of  acts  of  crime,  but  has  its  primary  and  most 
efficient  exercise  in  judging  of  ourselves  as  we  really  are,  strongly 

VOL.  IX. — N.S,  3  H 


430  Hinton's  Harmony  of  Rdigious  Truth. 

disposed  to  evil,  and  requiring  the  relief  and  aid  which  goodness 
proffers.  Humility,  indeed,  is  not  so  much  a  sense  of  guilt,  with 
which  sometimes  it  is  confounded,  as  a  sober  judgment  of  our- 
selves and  of  our  exigences. 

The  illustration  of  his  position,  given  by  our  Author,  from  the 
possibility  of  learning  skilful  and  successful  play  at  bowls,  not- 
withstanding the  bias  in  them,  is  beneath  his  usual  acuteness.  To 
be  bound  from  the  first  effort  to  hit  the  mark,  or  suffer  punish- 
ment, would,  we  presume,  be  reckoned  somewhat  hard  by  the 
young  player  at  bowls;  and  more  unreasonable  would  be  the 
terms  of  trial,  had  no  one  ever  in  any  case  succeeded  with  such 
bowls.  Arguments  so  constructed  certainly  must  fiiil  in  bringing 
to  th&  conscience  any  sense  of  guilt. 

In  the  essay  upon  the  question,  *  Whether  Christ  died  for  all 
^  men?^  we  have  at  length  a  satisfactory  representation  of  the 
^  triar  to  which  mankind  are  actually  subjected,  but  such  as  at 
the  same  time  confutes  the  argument  in  the  preceding  essays,  of 
whose  faultiness  the  reader  is  already  advertised.  That  argu- 
ment, if  indeed  we  are  able  to  understand  it,  was  strenuously 
directed  to  prove  the  justice  and  the  reasonablenes  of  a  supposed 
dispensation  of  God  towards  fallen  man,  founded  solely  upon  the 
rule  of  perfect  rectitude; — the  rule,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart  and  strength,  and  thy  neighbour  as 
thyself;'' — a  dispensation  which  tolerated  no  failure,  and  which 
was  supported  by  the  sanction  of  tremendous  threatenings.  After 
all  the  labour  employed  to  establish  that  proposition,  he  here  un- 
weaves the  web,  and  virtually  informs  us,  that  he  must  necessarily 
have  failed  in  his  attempt.  He  asks,  ^  Can  it  indeed  be  sup- 
posed, that  by  virtue  of  so  wonderful  an  interposition  as  the 
death  of  Christ,  we  should  be  introduced  into  a  state  of  being 
which  would  afford  us  an  opportunity  of  sinning,  but  deny  us  an 
opportunity  of  repentance  ?  Existence  in  that  case  would  be  a 
direct  and  inevitable  curse,  not  a  gifl  of  benevolence,  but  a  com- 
pulsory and  unmitigable  calamity.** 

To  understand  ^lly  the  application  of  this  passage  to  the  con* 
futation  of  the  previous  argument,  it  must  be  remarked,  that  the 
Author  maintains,  that  no  posterity  of  Adam  could  have  existed, 
but  in  consequence  of  the  interposition  of  Christ.  The  fiict  that 
there  has  been  perpetuated  a  race  of  lapsed  creatures,  is  founded 
solely  on  that  interposition.  Now  it  is  this  perpetuated  raoe, 
who  arc  described  as  having  actually  been  placed  under  the  law 
of  moral  perfection  before  described,  and  of  which  supposed  fiuit, 
the  justice  and  propriety  have  been  laboriously  pressea  upoD  at- 
tention ;  while  here  we  are  assured,  that  *  existence  in  such  a  case 
'  would  be  a  direct  and  inevitable  curse.**     How  to  escape  from 


Hinton's  Harmony  of  Religious  Truth.  431 

the  dilemma  into  which  the  Author  has  brought  us,  we  cannot 
divine;  since  to  imagine,  on  the  one  hand,  that  we  are  really 
brought  into  a  state  of  existence  such  as  above  described  is  im- 
possible, and  equally  so,  that  a  law  of  perfection,  actually  in  force 
as  law,  cafl  admit  of  any  rescue  from  its  penalty  merely  upon  the 
ground  of  repentance.  The  only  inference  to  which  therefore  we 
can  come,  is,  that  the  Author,  and  with  him  multitudes  of  grave 
divines,  are  under  a  manifest  error,  when  they  suppose  that  the 
SupremU  Governor  has,  in  fact,  since  the  fall,  established  such  a 
la^.  Such  a  rule  indeed  he  has  unquestionably  given,  and  with 
it  his  own  sovereign  remedy  for  failure  in  observing  it ;  but  as  a 
law  which  could  give  life,  or  be  designed  for  that  end,  it  never 
has  been  in  force.  The  sanctions  of  that  rule,  and  therefore  the 
rule  itself  considered  strictly  under  the  notion  of  law,  have  never 
been  in  operation,  except  when  men  themselves  determine  to  be 
tried  by  it  through  arrogant  presumption.  Often  it  has  been 
stated,  that  unbelievers  in  the  Gospel,  whether  before  or  since  its 
fullest  administration,  are  primarily  condemned  as  violators  of  the 
law,  but  only  in  a  subsidiary  and  intensive  sense,  for  not  embrac- 
ing the  deliverance.  The  contrary  may  perhaps  be  shewn  to  be 
the  fact :  '^  This  is  the  condemnation^  that  light  has  come  into 
the  world,  but  men  love  darkness  rather  than  light "", — they  re- 
ject deliverance,  and  assume  a  posture  of  professed  perfection,  or 
else  determined  trust  in  what  they  call  repentance,  and  by  this 
assiunption,  justly  come  within  the  unbending  requisition.  The 
voice  of  law,  however,  used  lawfully,  is  :  '  This  is  what  you  ought 

*  to  be  in  order  to  be  personally  and  truly  good ;  and  if,  failing  to 

*  accept  my  aid  as  I  propose  it,  you  claim  to  have  that  character, 
'  this  shall  be  the  rule  and  law  by  which  you  shall  be  judged.'' 

On  the  question  itself  which  forms  the  title  of  this  Essay,  it  is 
with  unmingled  pleasure  that  we  recommend  the  Author**s  rea- 
sonings and  illustrations  to  the  notice  of  the  reader.  They  are 
well  displayed,  and  cannot  but  command  assent,  except  where 
prejudice  and  system  are  in  fortified  possession  of  the  mind. 

The  thirteenth  Essay,  on  the  *  Nature  and  Practicability  of 
Repentance  \  contains  much  that  will  startle  many  a  reader,  but 
much  also  that  calls  for  prompt  attention.  It  drives  furiously, 
some  will  perhaps  say  recklessly,  against  the  false  but  favoured 
refuges  of  the  impenitent,  threatening  to  turn  them  from  their 
soothing,  soft,  but  dreadfully  insecure  retreats.  Were  we  dis- 
posed to  suggest  dissatisfaction,  it  would  not  be  with  the  main 
positions,  but  with  the  omission  of  what  might,  we  think,  in  full 
consistency  have  been  supplied.  Without  admitting  an  excuse 
from  any  supposed  incapacity  to  repent,  we  may  with  much  pro- 
priety forewarn  the  sinner,  how  little  he  can  with  safety  rely  upon 

3h2 


48ft  Hinton^g  Hamumy  of  Beligums  Truth. 

eontinued  willingness  to  exert  the  ability  he  has ;  and  without 
impairing  any  motive  to  the  strenuous  and  consistent  application 
to  the  means,  however  sufficient  also  those  means  if  properly  em- 
ployed, we  may  enforce  besides  the  great  importance  of  that  gift 
which,  by  Christ  himself  we  are  informed,  our  Heavenly  Father 
will  bestow  on  those  who  ask, — even  his  Holy  Spirit. 

The  last  Essay  is  '  Of  Unbelief-/  in  which  the  Author  meets, 
and  ably  meets,  the  objection  of  the  sceptic, — that  belief  is  not 
a  voluntary  exercise  of  mind.  The  ingenuity  of  an  objector  is  of 
course  displayed,  not  in  advancing  what  is  nakedly  absurd,  but 
in  that  modicum  of  admixture  of  truth  with  the  error  he  insinuates, 
which  is  necessary  to  give  it  plausibility.  The  mind'^s  assent  to 
a  proposition,  on  the  view  of  the  case  actually  before  it,  must 
certainly  follow  that  conclusion  which  the  preponderating  weight 
of  evidence  suggests.  It  were  strange  indeed  if  the  mental  con- 
stitution were  so  formed  as  to  be  swayed  by  the  weaker,  rather 
than  by  the  stronger  proof.  That  were  equivalent  doubtless  to 
the  supposition,  that  we  are  made  not  rational,  but,  in  our  own 
▼ery  nature,  irrational  beings.  But  the  Question  of  our  respon- 
sibility is  not  implicated  in  this  merely  physical  adaptation:  be- 
lief, in  this  part  of  it,  is  no  doubt  an  involimtary  exercise  of  mental 
law.  On  quite  other  considerations  therefore  must  our  account- 
ability be  rested.  Do  we,  or  do  we  not  choose  to  estimate  im- 
partially the  evidence  before  us,  to  present  it  to  our  minds,  and 
attentively  to  consider  and  weigh  its  fierce?  Is  the  Christian 
faith,  simply,  an  assent  to  a  proposition  ?  If  the  unbeliever 
maintains  the  honesty  and  industry  of  his  inquiries  into  the  truth 
of  Scripture,  he  moots  a  controversy  to  be  determined  on  a  fu- 
ture day,  and  before  a  tribunal  infinitely  higher  and  more  tre- 
mendous than  that  of  man.  The  general  conduct  of  the  sceptic 
in  this  controversy,  would  never  warrant  us  to  place  much  con- 
fidence in  his  professions.  For  the  rest,  we  leave  it  to  the  deci- 
sion of  Him  from  whom  the  volume  comes. 

On  the  i^ature  of  the  faith  itself  which  is  required  of  us  for 
our  salvation,  the  Author^s  conviction  is  decided,  that  it  embraces 
more  than  simple  assent,  and  he  describes  it  as  ^  a  moulding  of 
our  feelings  into  harmony  with  the  truth  perceived,^  as,  *  not  an 
act  of  the  understanding,  but  a  state  of  the  heart.^  Much  has  been 
written  on  both  sides  of  this  subject,  but  not  often  with  greater 
clearness,  accuracy,  and  force,  than  in  this  short  discussion.  The 
Author,  in  our  view,  has  fully  proved  his  point,  and  by  that 
proof  completely  unnerved  the  grasp  of  the  adversary.  A  pal- 
pable truism  has  been  misapplied;  and  nothing  more  is  necessaiy 
than  to  expose  the  sophistical  dexterity  by  which  it  has  been  con- 
verted, from  an  acknowledgement  that  we  cannot  blame  our 
making,  into  a  noxious  principle  of  hostility  against  our  Maker. 


Hinton's  Harmony  of  ReligUms  Truth.  433 

On  the  whole,  we  thank  our  Author  for  this  volume,  and 
would  urge  its  claim  upon  attentive  consideration.  It  is  not  free 
from  oversights, — as  when  we  are  told  that  Antiochus  Epiphanes 
was  one  of  Alexander'^s  Generals ;  nor  without  paradoxes, — as 
when  with  equal  terseness  and  decision  we  are  informed,  that 
*  Judaism  was  not  religion/  Many  assertions  are  as  startling  as 
peremptory;  but  the  work,  notwithstanding,  imbodies  much 
•ound  thought,  good  and  well  expessed  argument,  and  powerful 
appeals  both  to  the  conscience  and  to  the  heart.  No  one  can 
doubt  our  Author's  claim  to  independency  of  judgement^  or  his 
fearlessness  in  expressing  his  convictions. 

In  the  practical  parts,  we  certainly  have  felt  throughout  a 
deridercUum.  Mr.  H.  believes  ftiUy  the  doctrine  of  the  indis- 
pensable necessity  of  an  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  regenerate 
the  heart,  and  thus  to  give  effect  to  means,  while  still  maintaining 
the  sufficiency  of  means,  and  of  man'^s  capacities  for  all  that  is 
required  of  him.  His  views  upon  the  nature  of  the  Spirit's  work 
are  likewise  just  and  clearly  stated ;  but  we  cannot  but  express  a 
wish,  that  in  his  practical  appeals  there  had  been  greater  reference 
to  this  glorious  Agent.  The  Author  seems  to  us  to  have  been 
somewhat  nervous  on  the  abuses  of  the  doctrine,  and  in  con- 
sequence, to  have  lost  a  favourable  opportunity  to  present  an 
example  of  its  use.  As  a  prominent  part  of  Revelation,  that  use 
must  doubtless  be  important,  and  we  should  like  to  have  seen  it 
forcibly  applied.  Perhaps,  the  nature  of  the  discussion  might 
be  pleaded  as  the  reason  of  this  omission;  yet  we  do  not  exactly 
see  the  grounds  on  which  that  reason,  in  many  parts  of  it,  could 
well  be  rested.  The  work,  however,  is  a  valuable  accession  to 
the  public  store  of  modem  theological  writing;  and  especially  so, 
as  tending  to  break  up  old  associations,  formed  perhaps  incauti- 
ously, and  to  induce  the  reader  to  think  over  again  at  least  some, 
perhaps  not  a  few,  of  the  thoughts  which  may  have  snugly  rested 
in  their  niches  for  many  a  revolving  year. 


(    434    ) 

Art.  V.     Abbreviated  Discourses  on   Varioui  Subjeeis.      By  John 
Leifchild.  8vo.  pp.  371.    Price  9s.  dd.    London.  183a 

IV/IR.  LEIFCHILD  does  not  often  trouble  the  press;  and 
this,  in  one  who  can  speak  so  well,  bespeaks  a  conviction, 
which  is  intimated,  indeed,  in  the  pre&ce  to  these  discourses, 
that  preparing  for  the  pulpit  and  composing  for  the  press  are 
very  different  processes,  requiring  very  different  halnts.  These 
'  plain  and  familiar  discourses  \  we  are  told,  *  are  printed  nearly 

*  as  delivered  from  the  pulpit ;  the  difference  consisting  chi^y  in 
'  the  omission  of  that  verbal  repetition  and  amplitude  of  illus- 

*  tration  which  are  necessary  for  the  ear,  over  wnich  the  truths 

*  delivered  rapidly  pass,  while  in  print  they  remain  before  tbe 
'  eye.**  This  distinction,  obvious  as  it  may  seem,  is  by  no  means 
generally  attended  to.  It  is  one  advantage  of  extemporaneous 
delivery,  that  it  allows  of  the  introduction  of  that  varied  iteration 
and  familiar  illustration  which  would  be  unpleasing  in  a  written 
discourse,  but  which,  if  not  carried  to  excess,  or  beyond  tbe 
limits  of  good  taste,  add  much  to  the  animation  and  efiectiveness 
of  living  oratory.  Mr.  Leifchild  is  aware  of  this ;  he  well  under- 
stands his  business  as  a  public  speaker;  and  he  discovers  a  degree 
of  timidity  in  submitting  these  Discourses  to  the  cold  eye  of 
criticism,  which  we  are  sure  is  unaffected,  and  which,  we  are 
bound  to  add,  is  at  the  same  time  unnecessary.  That  a  bold 
preacher  should  be  a  diffident  author, — that  one  who  can  6tce  and 
overawe  an  assembly  of  hundreds  or  thousands,  when  behind  the 
breast-work  of  the  pulpit,  should  thus  seem,  veteran  as  he  is,  to 
shrink  from  coming  to  close  quarters  with  the  enemy  in  the  open 
field  of  criticism, — shews  how  much  we  are  all  the  creatures  of 
habit ;  but  it  indicates  too,  that  the  Author  s  popularity  has  not 
betrayed  him  into  the  littleness  of  self-complacency,  that  he  does 
not  apprehend  himself  to  have  attained  *  his  own  beau  ideal  of 

*  perfection  **,  and  that  usefulness,  and  not  literary  fame,  is  the 
object  which  he  has  had  in  view  in  committing  his  productions  to 
the  press. 

Mr.  Leifchild  confesses,  indeed,  that  his  immediate  object  is, 

*  to  furnish  the  attendants  on  his  ministry  with  a  memorial  of 

*  some  of  those  discourses  which  they  profess  to  have  listened  to 

*  with  spiritual  profit  \  and  ^  to  secure,  by  this  means,  an  interest 
'  in  the  remembrance  of  not  a  few,  between  whom  and  himself  an 
^  attachment  exists  of  a  most  sacred  nature.^  Beyond  this  ciide 
of  the  Author^s  connexions,  the  volume  cannot  &il,  however,  to 
prove  both  interesting  and  instructive.  The  topics  are  of  primaiv 
importance  and  of  a  popular  character ;  and  they  are  treated  witn 
a  forcible  perspicuity  and  judiciousness  which  will  recommend 
them  strongly  to  general  perusal.     The  phraseology  is  at  once 


Leifchild^s  Discourses.  435 

unaffected  and  chaste,  and  very  free  from  the  technicalities  of  the 
theological  dialect. 

The  discourses  are  fifteen  in  number.  Our  attention  was  ar- 
rested by  the  subject  of  the  last  but  one,  ^  Deliverance  from 
^  Slavery  \  the  exordium  of  which  we  shall  transcribe,  as  an  ad- 
mirable exposure  of  the  fallacious  apology  for  slavery,  founded  on 
its  not  being  formally  abolished  by  the  Christian  religion.  The 
text  of  this  Discourse  is  1  Cor.  vii.  42.,  **  The  Lord''s  free  man.*" 

*  The  object  of  the  apostle  in  the  context^  is  to  distinguish  between 
spiritual  and  natural  freedom^  and  to  shew  that  the  latter,  though  not 
indispensably  necessary  to  the  participation  of  spiritual  liberty  and  the 
enjoyment  of  its  prerogatives,  and  not  therefore  to  be  violently  and 
impatiently  sought  after,  is  greatly  promoted  by  it.     Christianity,  at 
its  first  appearance,  found  mankina  in  a  disordered  state,  with  respect 
to  the  civil  condition  of  society.    Many  of  the  governments  of  the  earth 
were  despotic  and  tyrannical,  and  a  large  portion  of  human  beings 
were  in  the  degraded  condition  of  civil  and  domestic  bondage.     Most 
of  the  servants  of  the  Jews,  and  nearly  all  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans, 
were  slaves;  so  from  their  birth,  as  the  result  of  the  former  fortunes  of 
war,  or  of  original  purchase,  with  or  without  the  consent  of  the  in- 
dividuals concerned.    For  the  religion  of  Jesus  to  have  declared  against 
this,  in  the  first  instance,  as  a  flagrant  violation  of  human  rights,  and  a 
base   infringement   of  the   law   of  equal  justice,   would   have   been 
manifestly  injudicious.     It  would  have  been  to  throw  the  whole  state 
of  society  into  a  ferment,  and  to  plant  barriers,  on  the  part  of  the 
masters  of  slaves,  against  the  introduction  of  Christian  principles,  and 
the  admission  of  their  advocates,  in  all  directions.     Thus  its  noblest 
and  most  beneficent  design^  which  had  a  far  higher  end  to  accomplish, 
and  one  reaching  into  another  world,  would  have  been  frustrated,  and 
itself  have  worn  the  aspect  of  an  enemy  to  the  human  race  ;  as  the  in- 
strument into  which  it  would  have  been  speedily  converted,  of  pro- 
moting rebellion,  anarchy,  and  confusion. 

'  Not  so  does  Infinite  Wisdom  propose  to  accomplish  the  work  of 
rectifying  disorders ;  but  in  a  much  more  efi&cient,  because  milder  and 
more  gradual  method  of  operation.  Christianity,  therefore,  began  with 
remedying  the  greatest  evil,  as  preparing  the  way  for  the  removal  of 
all  other  enormities.  It  set  forth  first  and  most  prominently  the  re- 
presentation of  a  spiritual  bondage,  equally  participated  in  by  all  man- 
Kind  ;  and  proposed  to  effect  a  deliverance  out  of  it  on  behalf  of  all  in 
every  station,  who  paid  a  due  attention  to  its  objects,  and  embraced  its 
principles.  This  being  achieved,  it  conferred  its  advantages  upon  all 
such  alike,  thus  making  them  spiritually  one,  amidst  all  possible 
diversity  in  their  civil  relations.  Here  was  the  remedy,  while  such  a 
state  of  things  lasted,  against  the  pride  of  oppression  on  the  one  hand, 
on  account  of  civil  authority ;  and  against  the  impatient  murmur  of 
discontent  on  the  other,  on  account  of  civil  degradation.  But  besides 
this  meliorating  influence,  there  was  a  corrective  process,  in  reference 
to  such  a  state,  resulting  from  its  principles.  While  it  softened  to 
their  dissolution  the  chains  of  slavery,  on  the  part  of  masters,  by  the 
gentleness  and  kindness  it  infused  into  them,  it  taught  slaves  to  value 


436  Leifchild'8  Diacaurses. 

their  persons^  to  embrace  every  fair  opportunity  of  becomiiig  firee*  and 
to  scorn  the  baseness  of  surrendering  to  man,  for  any  pecuniary  con- 
sideration, the  entire  disposal  of  a  body  and  soul  ennobled  by  divine 
redemption.  "  Art  thou  called,  being  a  servant  ?  care  not  for  it :  but 
if  thou  mayest  be  made  free,  use  it  rather.  For  he  that  it  called  in 
the  Lord,  being  a  servant,  is  the  Lord's  free-man ;  likewise,  also,  he 
that  is  called,  being  free,  is  Christ's  servant.  Ye  are  bought  with  a 
price ;  be  not  ye  the  servants  of  men." '    pp.  322 — 324. 

The  Preacher  proceeds  to  direct  attention,  first,  to  '  the  bond- 
^  age  supposed  by  the  Gospel,  and  which  calls  fiir  its  inter- 
ference^; secondly,  to  the  nature  of  the  freedom  which  the  Gos- 
pel confisrs  on  all  its  converts.  Having  illustrated  the  doctrinal 
part  of  his  subject,  the  practical  oba^ations  which  he  founds 
upon  it,  respect,  1.  the  noble  character  of  Christianity :  its  intro- 
duction was  the  *  establishment  of  a  spiritual  jubilee  ^ ; — ^S.  the 
appropriate  duties  allotted  to  those  who  are  partakers  of  the  spi- 
ritual freedom  of  the  Gospel.  Under  this  last  hc^  occurs  the 
following  energetic  enforcement  of  the  duty  of  Christiana  at  the 
present  crisis,  m  respect  to  Colonial  Slavery.  They  are  bound, 
U  is  remarked,  '  to  promote  the  natural  and  civil  freraom  of  men, 
<  according  to  the  dictates  of  the  Gospel,  and  in  its  spirit. 

'  The  genius  of  the  GU)spel  is  opposed  to  bondage  and  vassalage  of 
every  kind.  It  protects  the  power  of  kings,  magistrates*  and  masters, 
but  only  their  right  and  proper  power.  It  opposes  every  species  of 
tyranny  ;  and  that  in  two  ways :  by  raising  men  whose  lot  is  cast  in 
the  lowest  grade  of  society  to  a  sense  of  their  own  worth,  as  eaual  to 
all  others  in  the  possession  of  immortality,  and  equally  the  objects  of 
the  favour  and  protection  of  God.  Thus  the  mean,  crouching,  abject 
spirit  that  can  be  reconciled  to  tyranny,  is  effectually  destroyed. 
And,  secondly,  by  teaching  men  in  the  highest  ranks  to  be  just,  nuing 
in  the  fear  of  God ;  to  be  the  ministers  of  God  for  good  to  others;  to 
condescend  to  men  of  low  estate,  and  to  be  kind  and  merciful  to  all : 
being  so,  they  can  hold  none  of  their  fellow  creatures  in  slavish  and 
ignominious  subjection.  The  reign  of  Christianity,  therefine,  must  be 
productive  of  liberty.  Wherever  it  reigns,  liberty  prevails^  tyranny  is 
crushed,  and  the  slave  rises  to  the  dignity  of  a  rational,  aoooantahle, 
and  immortal  creature. 

*  This  is  the  answer  to  the  frivolous  objection,  that,  because  Christi- 
anity no  where  denounces  slavery  in  plain  terms,  it  is  not  directly  op- 
posed to  such  a  state  of  society.  Men  who  look  only  on  the  surfiice  of 
the  New  Testament,  may  hold  such  an  opinion,  and,  if  announced  from 
high  authority,  may  quote  it  as  a  golden  sentence ,  but  lie  who  surveys 
the  principles  of  the  Book,  and  watches  the  natural  course  of  their 
operation,  must  see  that  their  prevalence  involves  tne  death-blow  of 
tnat  coercion  necessary  to  the  perpetuation  of  slavery,  and  of  that 
detestable  meanness  of  soul  that  lies  prostrate  under  it.  Let  facts  cor- 
roborate this  reasoning.  Wherever  Christianity  went,  wars,  the  fruit- 
ful source  of  perpetuating  such  a  state,  ceased,  and  the  infernal  market 
for  human  flesh,  drained  of  supply,  declined.    Christians  set  free  their 


LdfchiltTs  Discourses.  487 

0Wn  honadioldsy  and  ibimd  a  happy  exchange  in  the  voluntaiyand 
afFectionate  service  rendered  them  by  those  in  inferior  stations^  once 
their  vassals.  Others  purchased  the  freedom  of  converts  in  such  a  con- 
dition ;  and  Cyprian,  Bishop  of  Carthage,  whose  circular  for  that  object 
MM  yet  extant,  raised  large  sums  from  the  churchesybr  the  reden^tion  of 
capUves.  Even  in  the  corrupt  form  of  Popery,  these  principles  pre- 
▼ailed  in  the  sister  island  at  an  early  period  of  her  history ;  and  Britain 
owes  a  debt  of  gratitude  yet  to  Ireland,  as  the  first  to  set  her  an  ex- 
ample of  true  magnanimity  by  sending  back  to  their  isiwn  happy  shores 
some  inhabitants  of  this  land  tound  there  in  the  galling  state  of  bondage. 
In  ever?  sense  of  the  words,  the  Founder  of  our  religion  deserves  tne 
title  ar— '^  l%e  Anointed  of  God,  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,  to 
proclaim  liberty  to  the  captives,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  tbem 
that  are  bound :  to  proclaim  the  acceptable  year  4)f  the  Lord."  Fetters, 
imposed  iot  no  crime,  and  the  liberal  genius  of  the  Gospel,  can  never 
eombiae, — can  never  dwell  together.  You  must  stop  Christianity,  or 
adulterate  and  disguise  it,  to  preserve  such  fetters.  To  do  it  with  the 
name  of  Christian  upon  us,  is  only  to  prove  that  he  who  has  not  a 
principle  in  common  with  another,  may  yet  assume  for  the  basest  of 
{mrposes  the  name  of  his  friend.  Away  with  such  pretended  subjection 
to  tne  Gk)spel :  if  men  ^vill  delight  in  cruelty,  if  they  will  revel  in  the 
music  of  groans  and  lashes  and  wailings  of  fellow-immortak ;  if  they 
will  thus  outrage  reason,  insult  humanity,  and  contemn  the  image  of 
Gad  in  his  creatures,  let  them  do  it  under  their  proper  appellation-^ 
not  of  Christians,  not  of  human .  beings,  but  of  monsters,  furies,  and 
fiends.  Let  them  wear  the  badges,  and  assume  the  profession  of  their 
proper  master.  Would  that  the  remedy  were  first  applied  to  them : 
•that  their  own  tyrannous  passions  were  subdued  by  the  efficacy  of 
divine  truth,  and  their  hearts  melted  to  kindness  ana  love,  by  a  sense 
and  discovery  of  the  great  love  of  God  to  them  in  redemption  !  Then 
would  they  see  their  former  selves  in  a  far  more  odious  light  than  I  am 
willing  to  place  them  in,  and  be  foremost  in  compensating  the  injuries 
they  have  milicted  on  their  fellow-immortals  by  diffusing  every  where, 
to  the  extent  of  their  ability,  the  benefits  of  civilization,  knowledge, 
and  religion.  You  that  are  thus  benefited,  act  in  this  manner.  Abhor 
tyranny  in  yourselves ;  remonstrate  against  it  in  others ;  resist  it,  not 
^Udenlay,  not  by  brute  force,  but  by  the  testimony  of  reason,  the 
appeals  of  religion,  remonstrances  addressed  to  canscience,  and  an  ex- 
ample of  meekness,  love,  and  purity.  Never  cease  to  remonstrate  till 
J4m  ppe««ii,  and  every  chain  upon  earth  is  broken.'     pp.  339 — 342. 

The  first  discourse  in  the  volume  is,  perhaps,  the  most  com- 
mon place  of  all.  The  second,  *  Religious  impressions  not  to  be 
•  checked  %  founded  on  Matt.  viii.  22,  is  a  striking  admonitory 
address,  closely  appealing  to  the  conscience,  and  detecting  the 
aecret  excuses  which  fatally  hinder  decision  in  religion.  The 
fourth,  on  *  St.  Paul's  rapture  and  thorn  in  the  flesh  \  is  in  a. very 
elevated  strain,  which  seems  at  once  to  harmonize  with  the  cha- 
racter of  the  theme,  and  to  be  inspired  by  it  We  must  tran- 
acribe  the  concluding  paragraph. 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  3  I 


438  Leifchild's  DUcaur9e$. 

*  3.  Paul's  rapture  persuades  us  of  the  existenoe  of  Pandise  as  the 

receptacle  of  the  souls  of  believers. 


— '  Let  us  not  undervalue  what  is  partial  only.  The  Uiss  of  the 
intermediate  state  is  not  impaired,  but  enlivened  by  expectation.  It 
appears  imperfect  only  when  compared  with  the  future ;  but«  when 
compared  with  the  past — how  bright ;  how  transcendent !  Think  of 
the  vivid  representations  of  Paradise  afforded  in  scripture,  its  radiant 
thrones,  its  amaranthine  crowns,  its  golden  harps,  its  white  robes,  its 
day  without  night,  its  bliss  without  alloy,  its  enraptured  and  entranced 
society ;  think  of  its  rivers  of  pleasure,  its  trees  of  life,  its  immortal 
songs  and  ravishing  melodies,  perpetually  floating  throogh  the  whole 
r^on.  Does  it  now  excite  surprise  that  Paul  once  admitted  within 
its  precincts,  longed  to  be  there  again?  Whither  do  his  writings 
bespeak  his  mind  to  be  continually  soaring,  but  to  those  happy  scenes 
he  nad  once  briefly  witnessed,— that  immortal  and  celestial  region  in 
which  he  had  once  been  momentarily  blessed.  Thither  his  soul  was 
frequently  borne  by  a  strong  tide  of  rapturous  affection,  counteracted 
only  by  a  sense  of  duty,  a  wish  to  augment  the  multitude  of  the  blessed, 
and  a  desire  to  glorify  Christ  by  swelling  the  triumphs  and  trophies  of 
his  cross.  Happy  strife  of  holv  motives !  envialue  '*  strait  betwixt 
two,"  to  stay  or  to  depart,  in  which  he  was  so  often  placed !  Seraphk 
love  said,  "Desire  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ ;"  but  Christian  aeal 
said.  To  remain  in  the  flesh  is  more  profitable  to  the  church  and  the 
souls  of  men. 

'  You  see  in  him  nothing  of  that  clinging  to  this  life  which  cha- 
racterized former  saints.  No  prayer  like  Heaekiah's  for  the  retrograde 
movement  of  the  shadow  on  the  dial ;  no  piteous  cry  like  David's,  **  O 
spare  me  a  little ; — remember  how  short  my  time  is."  You  mark  in 
him  none  of  those  timid  shrinkings  from  death  that  have  sometimes 
seized  individuals  of  eminent  piety  under  the  same  dispensation  of 
religion  as  himself— -no  "  shivering  on  the  brink,  afraia  to  laundi 
away."  No ;  his  difliculty  was  to  be  reconciled  to  the  self-denial  whkh 
duty  and  zeal  im])osed, — to  keep  under  proper  restraint  the  desire  tor 
departure.  "  O  that  blest  world,  that  I  have  seen ! "  he  was  ready  to 
say,  "  when  shall  I  again  hail  it  as  bursting  on  my  ravished  sight ! 
In  comparison  of  it,  what  is  there  here  to  enhance  or  fix  my  affections? 
Thrones  of  princes,  crowns  of  honours,  applauses  of  nations,— could  I 
enjoy  them  all,  free  from  the  alloys  of  bodily  pain,  of  unsrateful  friends, 
of  reproaching  scofling  enemies ! — how  insignificant  to  the  prize  I  grasp 
at,  and  have  actually  seen  !"  And  mark,  when  he  saw  himself  on  the 
point  of  obtaining  it,  though  a  bloody  death  intervened  and  spread 
Itself  before  his  eyes,  how  he  exulted  and  held  himself  forward !  *'  I 
am  ready  to  be  offered  up,  and  the  time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand." 
No  stranger  quitting  a  foreign  shore,  ever  beheld  with  greater  ecstacy 
the  vessel  in  which  he  was  embarked  weighing  anchor,  and  the  favour- 
able breeze  beginning  to  fill  her  sails,  than  Paul  did  the  signs  of  his 
approaching  dissolution. 

'  My  brethren,  did  this  paradise  remain  for  Paul  alone  ?     Does  not 
the  Apocalypse,  that  affords  such  transporting  glimpses  of  ita  blesMd- 


Leifchild^s  Du/courses.  439 

xiess;  warrant  all  dying  believers  in  Jesus  to  expect  an  instantaneous 
admission  to  its  bowers  ?  ''  They  have  a  right  to  the  tree  of  life,  and 
to  enter  through  the  gates  into  the  city."  We  familiarize  ourselves  too 
little  with  even  the  indistinct  glimpses  of  it  which  we  are  permitted 
here  to  enjoy.  We  weigh  too  little  the  proofs  of  the  immediate 
entrance  upon  it  of  all  who  die  in  the  Lora,  whosoever  they  may  be, 
whenever,  or  in  whatever  bodily  circumstances,  they  make  their  exit 
from  this  world.  Hence  our  fond  attachment  to  life,  our  reluctance  to 
quit  this  world.  It  cannot  be  otherwise,  while  death  bounds  our 
prospect,  and  his  deep  shades,  settling  upon  our  visions  of  the  future, 
are  unrelieved  by  the  scenes  beyond,  so  divinely  grand,  so  surpassingly 
rapturous  !  O  the  immortal  temple  of  my  God — the  exalted  throne  of 
the  Eternal  and  the  Lamb  !  O  ye  blessed  spirits,  angels,  and  company 
of  the  saints!  O  the  immortal  joys  and  ennobling  visions  of  the 
divine  glory.  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit !  Why  am  I  so  backward  to 
attain  such  benedictions,  to  enter  on  the  fruition  of  such  delights ! 
Does  the  summons  come  ?  What  shall  detain  me  !  Not  the  polluted 
and  short-lived  pleasures  of  this  world — their  attractions  have  long 
since  become  powerless  to  my  heart.  Not  innocent  delights ;  not  duty  ; 
not  religious  ordinances,  heavenly  and  heaven-like  though  they  be ; 
not  dear  friends  and  tender  relatives — they  are  all  shadows  here,  but 
death  conducts  me  to  the  substance :  they  may  be  drops  of  joy,  but  I 
desire  the  fountain ;  they  may  be  streams,  but  I  seek  the  ocean.  I  go 
to  the  third  heaven ;  I  depart  to  be  with  Christ  in  paradise  which  is 
fer  better.'    pp.  93—96. 

Discourse  VIII.,  on  the  Divine  Superintendence  of  Human 
Affairs  \  deserves  to  be  pointed  out  to  especial  notice,  as  of  a 
▼ery  instructive  character ;  as  also  the  following  one,  on  a  kin- 
dred subject,  admirably  treated,  which  may  serve  as  a  sequel  to 
the  former.  We  pass  them  by,  to  notice  more  particularly  a  very 
judicious  discourse  on  ^  the  Unpardonable  Sin.''  After  endeavour- 
ing to  remove  some  mistakes  respecting  this  subject,  the  Author 
proceeds  to  define  the  peculiar  character  of  the  irremissible  blas- 
phemy, and  to  guard  against  the  remotest  approaches  to  every 
sin  of  the  same  awful  species.  He  then  very  properly  adverts  to 
the  unwarrantable  and  fanatical  pretensions  to  miraculous  gifts 
made  in  modem  times,  and  renewed  in  the  present  day,  and 
which  he  shews  to  bear  four  characteristics  disagreeing  with 
Christianity.  The  remarks  which  follow,  are  peculiarly  deserv- 
ing of  serious  attention. 

'  2.  As  Christians,  the  subject  calls  upon  us  to  use  all  our  efforts  in 
the  promotion  of  that  religion,  which  is  the  offspring  of  the  blessed 
Spirit.  The  times  which  are  rolling  over  us,  call  more  than  ordinarily 
for  such  exertions.  If  some  are  burlesquing  religion  by  extravagant 
fiuicies,  others  are  labouring  to  supersede  it,  and  to  form  society,  and 
improve  mankind,  without  it.  They  designedly  overlook  it,  and  wish 
to  persuade  us  that  the  seeds  of  melioration  are  in  ourselves. 

*  Of  the  two  perversions,  the  latter  perhaps  is  more  dangerous,  as 
being  more  insidious :  the  miner  is  always  to  be  dreaded  more  than  th« 

3i  2 


440  Leifchild^s  DUcounes. 

open  assailant.  Of  the  extraordinary  efforts  made  in  this  day  for  the 
^vidc  diffusion  of  knowledge,  all  are  aware.  Publications  issue  forth 
from  the  press,  respectable  for  the  topics  on  which  they  treat  as  well  ss 
the  ability  with  which  they  are  executed,  and  surprisingly  cheap. 
They  arc  marked,  however,  by  a  studied  avoidance  of  religion.  Not, 
it  is  supposed,  with  any  sinister  designs  against  itj  on  the  part  of  their 
supporters,  but  rather,  perhaps,  with  the  mere  intention  of  avoiding 
debateabic  |2;round,  and  of  making  their  productions  polateable  to  all 
The  effect,  however,  if  not  guarded  against  must  be  moat  extensively 
deleterious.  It  is  liable  to  displace  religion  by  a  side  wind — ^it  is  sup- 
plying, in  science  and  general  knowledge,  a  succcdaneum  for  it.  Too 
ground  becomes  thus  pre-occupicd,  the  cravings  of  the  mental  appetite 
are  met  in  every  direction,  and  all  the  brief  spacea  of  leisurej  can- 
manded  by  thousands,  filled  up. 

'  Let  Christians  beware  of  this  aspect  of  the  times^  and  beooBM 
assiduous  in  counteracting,  by  diligence  in  their  appropriate  province, 
the  tendency  of  this  temper  of  the  age.  What  is  Knowledge  or  cdn- 
cation,  if  religion  be  not  grafted  upon  it?  A  mighty  instnunent, 
capable  of  being;  turned  to  as  much  mischief,  as  it  is  to  good  in  con- 
nexion with  religion.  And  who  arc  to  produce  this  connexion  bat 
Christians, — ^by  supporting  Sabbath  schools.  Christian  inatmctioa 
societies,  the  distribution  of  religious  tracts,  and  the  circulation  of  the 
scriptures,  as  well  as  other  religious  publications  ?  Let  them  unite 
also  in  maintaining  the  public  ministry  of  the  Word^  in  multiplying 
the  places  for  its  exercise,  and  in  supporting  the  *'  Schools  of  the 
Prophets."  Thus  religion  and  literature,  going  hand  in  band^  both 
will  he  mutually  advantaged  and  increased. 

'  In  the  advances  of  knowledge  wc  can  see  nothing  to  Hear^  nothing 
but  what  is  exhilarating  and  encouraging,  provided  the  efforis  to  spread 
religion  be  made  with  corresponding  ardour.  It  will  be  the  reproach 
of  Christians,  if  the  advocates  of  any  other  knowledge  outstrip  them  in 
their  career  for  its  advancement.  All  classes  of  Christians  should  be 
here  associated,  as  those  of  society  in  the  other  department.  Then, 
while  *'  many  run  to  and  fro,  and  knowledge  is  multiplied/'  piely  snd 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  will  share  in  the  progression.  Learning  and 
knoA\']edge,  of  the  best  kind,  will  soon  be  the  stability  of  the  times. 
To  have  contributed  to  the  prevention  of  what  would  oppose  it*  and 
the  promotion  of  tliis  good  will  present  a  rescue  of  our  oest  energies 
and  abilities  from  the  influence  of  sloth,  the  cravings  of  self-indulgence, 
and  the  calls  of  the  world,  th<it  will  be  most  refreshing  to  the  con- 
templati(m  at  the  close  of  life,  endure  after  life,  and  flonrish  in  its 
effects  in  the  eternal  worhl. 

'  But  O !  that  the  effiirts  thus  to  dispense  the  forms  of  relieious 
knowledge, — the  materials  of  Christian  i)iety.,  may  be  accompanied  and 
followed  by  earnest  su]) plications  for  the  necessary  influence  of  that 
Divine  Agent  to  give  them  effect,  whose  offices  and  character  have 
been  brought  before  us  !  It  is  fruitless  to  pray  for  his  working  where 
the  materials  ur  it  have  not  l;ct>n  supplied,  and  equally  fruitless  to 
supply  them,  if  his  agency  be  not  implored,  and  obtained.  The 
husbandman  sows  his  seed,  he  repeats  his  efforts,  he  renews  his  labours 
again  and  again.     How  docs  he  now  watch  the  appearance  of  the  &ky 


Leifchild'^s  Discourses.  441 

-^how  does  he  hail  the  sunny  ray^  the  circulating  breeze^  the  refreshing 
moisture !  Ah,  Spirit  of  the  living  God !  the  influences  analogous  to 
these  on  the  spiritual  seed  in  the  moral  soil,  thou  alone  canst  impart. 
Withhold  them  not.  Be  not  driven  from  our  world,  by  the  basi^ess 
of  some,  the  indifference  of  others,  the  supineness  of  thine  own  re- 
cipients ;  and  suspend  no  longer  the  energy  that,  by  quickening  our 
prayers,  shall  draw  down  upon  the  earth,  in  all  directions,  the  refresh- 
ing showers  of  grace.  None  shall  then  despise  thee ;  none  shall  then 
question  thy  divine  agency.  The  blossoms  of  spring,  the  fruits  of 
summer,  will  not  more  sensibly  attest  the  presence  and  power  of  the 
great  luminary,  than  thy  presence  will  be  attested  in  the  prevailing 
•piritnality,  tlie  budding  virtues,  and  blooming  graces,  of  a  regenerated 
world.'    pp.  230  -234. 

We  must  here  close  our  extracts,  but  would  recommend  to  the 
reader  the  discourse  on   ^  the  worshipping  service  required  of 

*  Christians,'*  as  containing  much  valuable  and  seasonable  adrao- 
Dition  in  reference  to  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath  and  the  true 
spirit  of  worship.  Nor  can  we  forbear  to  notice  the  last  in  the 
volume,  as  at  once  eharacteristic  and  striking.     It  is  entitled, 

*  The  five  points  of  Christian  Charity.'  These  five  points,  not  of 
controversy,  but  of  agreement,  this  auinquarticular  bond  of  peace, 
the  Preacher  finds  in  Eph.  iv.  4. — o. 

'  What,'  he  asks,  '  has  the  celebrated  controversy  upon  the  "  five 
points  ;" — "  predestination,  original  sin,  particular  reaemption,  ef- 
fectual calling,  and  final  perseverance," — ever  done  for  the  church  ? 
There  is  not  one  of  them  on  which  the  whole  church  is  yet  agreed* 
What  a  waste  of  time  have  they  occasioned,  and  to  what  unguarded 
expressions  have  they  led  ?  What  unguarded  expressions  for  instance 
on  Predestination  ?  Seen  in  the  Scripture,  surrounded  with  motives 
to  holiness,  it  is  a  doctrine  full  of  comfort  to  the  godly ;  seen  in  the 
writings  of  controversialists,  surrounded  with  metaphysical  difficulties, 
and  accompanied  with  the  human  appendage  of  neprohation,  what  a 
atumbling-blook  has  it  been,  both  to  the  sincere  and  the  perverse  ! 

'  But,  here  are  the  Jive  poinU  that  should  absorb  us.  We  should  fix 
all  the  energy  of  the  soul  upon  these ;  we  should  steep  the  thoughts  in 
them ;  and  the  result  would  be  increasing  conformity  to  the  Almighty. 
It  is  probably  by  the  predominance  of  these  things  in  human  regard, 
that  that  state  of  things  will  be  chiefiy  brought  about,  which  is  de- 
scribed by  *'  holiness  to  the  Lord"  being  written  upon  the  "  vessels  of 
the  sanctuary,  and  upon  the  bells  of  the  horses." '     pp.  364,  305. 

We  wish  that  Mr.   Leifchild  had  cancelled  one  expression, 

*  cursed  be  the  spirit  of  controversy.'*  He  should  leave  imprecation 
to  Mr.  Irving,  and  '  bless,  but  curse  not/  Besides,  if  to  contend 
earnestly  for  the  faith  be  a  duty,  controversy  is  not  to  be  depre- 
cated, nor  the  spirit  of  controversy,  if  it  be  the  spirit  in  which  it 
ought  to  be  conducted.  It  is  not  by  controversy,  but  by  intole- 
rance and  imposition,  that  charity  is  outraged.  '  For  there  is  to 
^  be  considered,  as  to  the  Church,^  says  a  Roman  Catholic,  who 


442  Stickney's  Pictures  of  Private 

was  yet  a  true  Catholic*,  '  the  Head  and  the  Body*    From  the 

*  Head,  there  is  no  departure,  but  by  doctrine  disagreeable  to 
'  Christ  the  head*     From  the  Body,  there  is  no  departore  by 

*  diversity  of  rites  and   opinions,  but  only  by   the  defect  of 

*  charity. 


Art.  VI.     Pictures  of  Private  Life.     By  Sarah  Stickney.      12iimi. 

pp.  34a    London,  1833. 

A  VOLUME  of  tales  from  the  pen  of  a  fair  Quaker  wonldi 
some  years  ago,  have  been  a  curiosity ;  but  the  followen  of 
Penn  arc  no  longer  penned  within  the  rigid  rules  which  once 
divided  them  from  the  rich  fields  of  literature.  A  Quaker  poet 
is  no  longer  a  phenomenon.  Instead  of  a  rare  meteor,  we  have  seen 
an  ^  aurora  borealis^  illuminating  this  quarter  of  society.  Never- 
theless, fiction  is  so  decidedly  at  variance  with  the  sentiments  of 
this  truth-loving  and  literal  people*  that  Sarah  Stickney  has  felt 
it  incumbent  upon  her,  as  a  member  of  the  religious  Society  of 
Friends,  to  prefix  an  Apology  to  these  tales.  *  I  would  not,^  she 
says,  ^  willingly  oppose  the  peculiarities  of  many  whom  I  regard 
^  with  gratitude,  esteem,  and  admiration,  without  offering  in  my 

*  own  vindication,  some  remarks  upon  the  nature  of  fiction  in 

*  general.^ 

Here  apology  is  briefly,  that  fiction  may  be  subservient  to  the  | 
purposes  of  moral  instruction ;  a  position  which  is  certainly  in- 
controvertible. Parables  are  fictions;  the  Pilgrim^s  Progress  is  a 
fiction ;  Robinson  Crusoe,  though  founded  on  fact,  is  a  romance. 
A  production  may  be  fictitious,  which  is  not  false.  There  is  no 
falsehood  in  fiction,  except  when  it  misrepresents  nature  and  fact. 
All  this  must  be  admitted ;  and  it  supplies  a  satisfactory  answer 
to  the  conscientious  objection  against  fiction,  founded  on  the 
erroneous  notion  of  its  intrinsic  unlawfulness  as  involving  untruth. 
Still,  the  main  objections  against  what  are  called  moral  tales,  are 
not  met  by  this  apology.  The  question  is  not,  whether  fiction 
in  the  abstract  is  a  legitimate  vehicle  of  moral  instruction,  but 
whether  such  fictions  are,  or  are  not,  of  a  beneficial  tendency. 

We  have  felt  it  right  to  say  thus  much ;  not  that  we  think  the 
present  volume  stands  in  need  of  an  apology,  but  because  the 
apology  confounds,  under  the  denomination  of  fiction,  works  of  a 
very  diverse  character  and  tendency.  Miss  Stickney  has  pro- 
fessedly composed  these  tales  for  those  who  would  reject  instruc- 
tion in  a  weightier  form,  whose  *  pursuit  is  pleasure,  their  food 

*  excitement.' 


•  Cassander,  cited  by  Howe. 


Stickney's  Pictures  of  Private  Life.  443 

'  And  since^'  she  adds,  *  books  of  fiction  are  a  kind  which  thousands 
will  continue  to  write  and  tens  of  thousands  to  read^  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  do  my  little  part  towards  blending  with  amusement  some 
of  those  serious  reflections  which^  in  the  often  shifting  scenes  of  a 
restless  life>  have  occupied  my  own  mind ;  not  without  earnest  longings 
that  I  myself  were  among  those  who  are  already  prepared  to  receive 
truth  without  fiction^  light  without  clouds^  good  without  alloy/ 

The  sentiment  and  feeling  here  expressed,  will  at  once  procure 
for  the  Author  the  esteem  and  commendation  of  the  reader.  Her 
purpose  is  excellent ;  and  in  reference  and  with  limitation  to  that 
purpose,  we  are  prep»red  to  bestow  very  high  commendation  upon 
net  performance.  To  the  class  of  readers  for  whom  they  are 
Bpecificallydesigned,  these  tales  are  well  adapted  to  convey  much 
salutary  instruction,  without  injuring  the  love  of  the  intellectual 
appetite,  already  accustomed  to  stimulants.  All  that  we  fear, 
and  feel  it  needful  to  make  the  subject  of  caution,  is,  that  such 
works  as  the  present  should  be  inconsiderately  put  into  the  hands 
of  individuals  for  whom  they  are  not  indended,  and  to  whom 
they  are  likely  to  do  more  harm  than  they  can  possibly  do  ^ood ; 
those  whose  simplicity  of  mind  has  not  been  vitiated  by  eating  of 
the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  and  to  whom  the  pre- 
mature knowledge  of  evil,  which  the  lessons  of  the  moralist  some- 
times impart,  is  at  once  a  surprise  and  an  injury. 

We  need  not  guard  ourselves  against  being  supposed  to  enter- 
tain the  notion,  that  the  minds  of  young  persons  who  have  been 
the  most  carefiilly  guarded  against  contamination,  will  be  found 
guileless  and  pure.  In  the  native  innocence  of  the  human  heart 
we  are  no  believers.  But  we  do  know  that  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  purity  of  imagination, — that  this  may  be  long  preserved, — 
that  it  is  one  of  the  most  precious  prerogatives  of  youth, — that 
when  lost,  it  is  never  to  be  restored, — and  that  knowledge  of  the 
world  is  but  a  poor  compensation  for  that  loss.  Further,  we 
know  that  the  evil  knowledige  imparted  by  the  fictions  of  the  mo- 
ralist has,  in  many  cases,  been  the  first  means  of  disturbing  that 
purity  of  imagination,  by  suggesting  thoughts  which  are  met,  in- 
deed, by  abhorrence,  such  as  tne  writer  might  wish  to  awaken,  but 
which  survive  the  salutary  emotion,  and  leave  a  stain  behind. 
We  are  not  speaking  of  works  the  direct  tendency  of  which  is 
doubtful  as  to  the  lessons  they  convey.  Our  remark  is  meant  to 
apply  to  moral  and  religious  tales  of  the  highest  character ;  to 
many  of  the  admirable  stories  of  Mrs.  Sherwood,  to  Miss  Tay- 
lor'^s  Display,  to  many  productions  of  similar  merit  and  excellence. 
We  do  not  condemn  either  the  works  or  their  writers.  We 
think  they  have  done  much  good ;  but  we  are  convinced  that  they 
have  also  done  some  harm,  owing  to  their  being  indiscriminately 
recommended. 

It  is  a  familiar  saying,  what  is  food  to  one,  is  poison  to  another. 


444  Stickney'^s  Pictures  of  PHvaie  Life. 

This  is  quite  as  true  in  respect  to  mental,  aa  to  bodily  nomish- 
ment.  The  tendency  of  a  work  very  much  depends  upon  its 
adaptation  to  the  reader.  The  same  work  that  scarcely  stirs  a 
sluggish  imagination,  ministers  dangerous  excitement  to  an  active 
one.  Those  who  have  been  fed  with  *  the  sincere  milk  of  the 
^  word/  may  be  poisoned  with  the  stimulants  which  to  others  are 
medicine.  Miss  Stickney'^s  views  on  this  subject  are  not,  we  are 
persuaded,  very  different  from  our  own.  She  is  *  willing  to  allow 
^  that  fictitious  writing  is  the  most  humble  means  of  moral  in- 
'  struction  C  though  '  earnest  in  maintaining  its  utility,  especi^y 
*  on  the  ground  that  it  finds  its  way  to  the  dense  multitude  who 
'  close  their  eyes  upon  the  introduction  of  purer  light.^  Upon 
this  ground,  we  also  freely  admit  its  utility.  We  wish  only  that 
its  restricted  purpose  should  be  borne  in  mind.  Nothing  can  be 
more  admirable  than  the  motto  which  the  Author  has  uacribed 
upon  her  title-page,  and  which,  applied  as  a  caveat  to  such  wo^, 
expresses  all  that  we  would  convey  by  these  observations. 

'  Would  you  judge  of  the  lawfulness  or  unlawfulness  of  pleasure, 
take  tliis  rule  :  Whatever  weakens  your  reason,  impairs  the  tendemen 
of  your  conscience,  obscures  your  sense  of  God,  or  takes  off  your  reliah 
of  spiritual  things ; — in  short,  whatever  increases  the  strength  and  au- 
thority of  your  body  over  your  mind ; — that  thing  ia  sin  to  you,  how- 
ever innocent  it  may  be  in  itself.' 

It  may  have  been  remarked,  that,  in  the  discharge  of  oar  critical 
vocation,  we  have  sometimes  bestowed  a  passing  notice  upon 
works  of  light  reading,  of  a  far  more  equivocal  deacription ;  such 
as  tales  and  novels,  the  writers  of  which  scarcely  aim  at  a  higher 
pur])ose  than  amusement,  yet  which  have  obtained  our  teatinKmy 
to  their  literary  merits.  But  in  these  cases,  we  have  felt  that  no 
one  could  be  misled ;  the  character  of  such  producttona,  and  the 
class  of  readers  they  were  intended  for,  cannot  be  miataken ;  and 
it  would  be  out  of  place  to  insist  upon  such  considerationa  as  the 
apology  of  the  present  Writer  has  suggested.  Of  aoch  pubHe- 
ations,  we  speak  simply  as  literature :  of  works  like  the  present, 
we  must  judge  as  means  of  education  and  vehicles  of  nord  in- 
struction ;  entitled,  indeed,  to  far  higher  commendation,  bat  yet, 
with  that  warmer  praise,  it  is  the  more  necesaary  to  Uend'the 
language  of  caution.  In  the  former  case,  we  simply  lender  onr 
homage  to  talent,  without  always  yielding  our  approval.  In  the 
latter  case,  where  our  praise  involves  recommendation,  it  seems 
necessary  to  qualify  the  opinions  we  give,  less  as  critics  than  ai 
guardians. 

The  present  volume  contains  four  tales :  The  Hall  and  the 
Cottage.  Ellen  Eskdale.  The  Curators  Widow.  Moniage  ai 
it  may  be.  They  are  skilfully  imagined,  and  beautifully  wnttcn, 
displaying  an  acquaintance  with  the  human  heart  and  with  aodeqr 
that  must  be  the  fruit  of  much  self-knowledge,  comlnned  with  ex- 


Stickney's  THctures  cf  Private  ti/fe.  446 

tensive  observation.  We  presume  that  the  Authoress  cannot  be 
a  very  young  person,  for  the  knowledge  is  that  of  maturity.  We 
ahall  ^ve  a  few  extracts,  which  will  at  once  exhibit  the  skilful  de- 
lineation of  character  and  the  admirable  sentiment  with  which 
the  volume  abounds,  and  at  the  same  time,  without  any  further 
comment,  illustrate  some  of  our  preceding  observations. 

'  From  this  time  she  never  spc^e  again  of  Frederick  Lahgley,  nor 
'made  the  least  alluRion  to  any  circumstances  connected  with  him. 
She  was  qiii^t  and  peaceful,  ana  resigned  to  die ;  —to  die,  but  not  to 
live. 

'  It  appears  an  easy  and  a  pleasant  thing,  to  the  soul  that  is  weary 
of  the  toils  of  mortality,  to  lay  down  the  burden  of  the  flesh,  and  soar 
away  into  a  higher  realm  of  purer  and  more  etherial  existence ;  and 
thus,  no  sooner  is  the  future  shrouded  in  darkness,  than  to  die  becomes 
the  choice  of  the  sentimentalist,  in  preference  to  a  patient  endurance 
of  the  ills  of  life. 

'  Anna  Clare  had  felt  for  a  long  time  that  she  was  gently  and  gra- 
dually passing  away  from  the  world,  or  rather  that  the  world  was 
losing  its  importance,  and  even  its  place  in  her  visions  of  futurity; 
and,  therefore,  she  concluded  that  oeath  must  be  at  hand :  yet,  had 
she  fondly  pictured  to  herself  one  scene  before  the  last,  and  dwelt 
tipon  it  witn  a  childish  intensity  of  interest ;  a  scene,  in  which  her 
lover  should  return,  and  beholding  her  altered  form  so  wasted  by  sick- 
ness and  sorrow,  should  listen  to  her  parting  prayers,  and  let  her  last 
■admonitions  sink  deep  into  his  heart.  For  this  she  had  made  frequent 
and  earnest  supplications,  and  for  this  she  had  felt  ^villing  to  die ;  and, 
perhaps,  if  the  truth  were  fully  known,  she  bad  appropriated  to  her- 
self some  little  merit  for  the  generosity  of  the  sacrifice,  and  had  been 
aomewhat  charmed  by  her  own  disinterestedness  of  feeling, — a  disin- 
terestedness that  was  sorely  put  to  the  test,  when  she  found  that  he. 
On  whom  she  had  bestowed  so  much  concern,  had  chosen  for  himself 
anOtfaeir  companion  through  the  pilgrimage  of  life;  and  that,  if  its 
rough  passages  were  to  be  smoothed  for  him  by  a  female  hand*  that 
hand  must  hot  be  hers.  Night  and  day,  this  humbling  truth,  with  all 
its  heartiiess  and  dreary  accompaniments,  was  present  to  the  mind, 
until  death  became  no  longer  h^r  choice,  for  to  her  it  seemed  impossible 
to  live. 

'  To  go  forth  again  into  the  wilderness,  after  having  pinbd  in  the 
desert ; — to  set  sail  again  upon  the  stormy  ocean,  with  frail  bark,  and 
doubtful  pilot,  with  trembling  compass,  and  shattered  mast ; — to  meet 
again  the  Crosses,  and  disappointments,  and  vexations  of  life ;  with 
hopes  that  have  been  blighted  in  the  bud,  and  desires  that  have  failed, 
and  patience  that  has  hcJt  had  its  perfect  work,  requires  more  true  for- 
titttde,  and  resignation  to  the  divine  will,  than  to  draw  back  from  the 
lightest  earthly  prospects,  and  sink  into  an  early  grave :  and  yet  so 
it  was  with  the  miserable  invalid,  that  her  disease  made  no  progress^ 
and  she  found  herself,  after  the  expiration  of  the  winter  months>  not 
only  alive,  but  evidently  gaining  strength  ;  and  painful  duties,  which 
in  n«r  weakness  she  had  set  aside  as  utterly  impracticable,  no\V  came 
crawding  upon  her  in  terrible  magnitude  and  hated  reality;    And  then 

VOL.  IX. — 14.8.  3  K 


446  Stickney'^s  Pictures  of  Private  Life. 

the  indescribable  gloom^  and  darkness  of  that  little  chamber^  in  which 
she  first  arose  from  her  sick  bed,  aud  looked  out  a^in  upon  a  world, 
which  presented  nothing  to  her  perverted  eye  but  an  interminable 
waste  of  barrenness. 

'  How  little  do  we  know  ourselves !  Anna  Clare  had  imagined, 
that  in  the  calmness  with  which  she  had  welcomed  the  approach  of 
death,  there  was  mingled  no  inconsiderable  share  of  willing  submission 
to  the  will  of  a  gracious  and  overniling  Providence ;  bat  where  was 
that  submission  now;  Alas!  it  had  only  been  conditional;  for  no 
sooner  was  the  decree  gone  forth,  that  she  must  live,  and  not  die,  than 
her  heart  was  turn  with  repining,  and  her  cup  of  wretchedness  was  full. 

'  There  is  nothing  more  selHsh  than  melancholy ;  and  lamentable  it 
is  to  find,  that  the  sentimental  world  have  invested  this  absorbing  ma- 
lady with  a  kind  of  interest  which  makes  it  rather  sought  than 
shunned  by  vast  multitudes  of  young  ladies  who,  too  indolent  to  exert 
themselves,  hang  their  heads  for  weariness ;  grow  sallow  for  want  of 
exercise,  and  sigh  for  want  of  fresh  air ;  who  read  novels  for  want  of 
rational  excitement ;  fall  in  love  for  waut  of  something  else  to  do ; 
fancy  themselves  heroines  because  they  are,  in  fact,  nothing ;  and  drawl 
out,  to  troops  of  confidential  friends,  long  histories  of  ima^nary 
troubles,  because  they  know  no  real  ones.  The  victims  of  this  dis- 
ease may  be  known  by  their  perpetually  bal>bling  about  paina  and  pal- 
pitations. Nerves  occupy  their  attention  when  they  wake,  night-mare 
when  they  sleep,  and  self  always.  Their  dearest  friends  may  sicken 
and  die,  they  are  too  languid  to  nurse  them :  a  miserable  peculation 
may  l>e  starving  around,  they  are  too  delicate  to  feed  them ;  afflictions, 
privations,  and  crosses,  may  be  sent  amongst  the  circle  in  which  they 
exist  —they  ''  have  a  silent  sorrow,"  so  deep-seated  and  overwhelming, 
that  they  can  neither  pity  nor  relieve  them ;  and  they  would  rather 
give  a  lecture  on  their  own  distresses,  than  listen  to  the  rejoicing  of  a 
multitude.  If  they  escape  the  temptation  of  a  sinful  world,  to  which 
their  minds  are  peculiarly  open,  from  having  had  raised  up  in  them  a 
false  appetite,  a  craving  for  unwholesome  food,  it  is  but  to  drag  on  a 
neglected,  weary,  and  loathed  existence,  and  to  arrive  at  the  confines 
of  the  grave  without  having  gathered  one  flower  to  sweeten  it ;  and  to 
lo<»k  forward  into  eternity  without  having  insured  one  rational  ground 
of  hope  to  glimmer  in  the  gulf  of  darkness. 

'  Such  is  the  history  uf  the  last  stage  of  the  existence  of  many  a 
melancholy  young  lady  ;  who,  while  she  was  young,  might  very  beau- 
tifully have  hung  her  harp  upon  the  willows,  and  the  world  at  first 
might  liave  sighed  over  its  silent  chords,  and  pitied  the  mute  minstrel: 
but  neither  a  silent  harp,  nor  a  mute  minstrel,  will  long  engage  the 
sympathy  of  the  world.  We  must  either  play  for  its  pastime,  or 
lal)our  in  its  service.  Its  stirring  communities  extend  not  their  pa- 
tronage to  any  quiescent  member,  and  if  we  will  sit  down  by  the  way 
side,  while  our  more  energetic  companions  pass  on,  the  inevitable  con- 
sequence ^vill  be,  that  we  shall  be  left  behind,  if  not  actually  trampled 
under  their  feet.' 

•  ••••• 

'  Anna  nished  into  the  house,  and  finding  Mary  alone,  threw  her 
arms  around  her  neck,  and  playfully  kissing  her  farehead*  "  There," 


Stickncy^s  Pictures  of  Private  Life,  447 

taiid  she,  "  I  have  borne  it  well !  For  once  in  your  life,  Mary,  give 
me  one  word  of  unqualified  praise,  for  I  have  been  walking  in  the 
garden  with  Sir  Frederick  Langley,  and  never  did  tjie  sainted  mother 
of  a  convent  carry  herself  more  distant,  or  more  erect. 

* "  Then  I  will  say  you  are  a  good  girl,"  replied  her  friend  ;  "  or 
rather,  a  wise  and  prudent  woman." 

' "  So  wise  and  prudent,  Mary,  that  if  you  were  not  married,  we 
would  establish  a  community  of  holy  sisters,  and  I  would  be  the  lady 
abbess." 

'  The  rigid  moralist  may  probably  be  astonished  that  any  credit 
should  be  due  to  Anna,  for  having  resisted  the  temptation  of  flirting 
with  a  married  man ;  but  let  us  pause  a  moment,  to  consider  what 
flirtation  is. 

'  Flirtation  may  be  the  idle  frolic  of  an  innocent  girl ;  but  it  too 
frequently  is  a  game  deeply  played  by  a  designing  and  self-interested 
woman.  It  may  be  carried  on  at  all  ages,  and  by  all  classes  of  society, 
in  all  scenes  and  circumstances  of  life  :  in  the  court,  and  the  cottage ; 
the  crowded  theatre,  and  the  house  of  prayer :  by  the  miss,  and  the 
matron  ;  the  flaunting  belle,  and  the  fanatical  devotee,  who  casts  up 
her  clear  eyes  with  the  solemn  asseveration  that  she  knows  no  sin. 
Deformity  does  not  preclude  the  possibility  of  its  existence,  nor  beauty 
divest  it  of  its  hideous  reality.  Flirtation  may  raise  or  depress  the 
snowy  eye-lid,  and  distort  the  wrinkled  cheek  with  smiles;  aad  sweet- 
ness to  the  melody  of  song,  and  soften  the  harsh  tones  of  discord ; 
flutter  in  the  ball-room  in  its  own  unblushing  character,  and  steal 
under  the  mask  of  friendsliip  upon  the  private  peace  of  domestic  life, 
like  the  serpent  when  it  coils  its  vile  and  venomous  folds  within  a 
bower  of  roses.  And  for  what  great  purpose  does  flirtatioh  thus  work 
its  way  as  a  pest  upon  society  ?  Its  sole  object  is  to  appropriate  to 
itself,  that  which  it  has  no  power  of  returning ;  too  frequently  robbing 
the  faithful  and  devoted  heart  of  the  rich  treasure  of  its  best  affections^ 
and  offering  in  repayment  the  distorted  animation  of  a  jaded  coun- 
tenance, the  blushes  of  mimic  modesty,  the  forced  flashes  of  a  faded 
eye,  and  the  hollow  smiles  that  simper  on  a  weary  lip. 

'  Had  Anna  Clare  been  possessed  with  the  demon  of  flirtation,  she 
would  have  raised  her  eyes  to  those  of  Sir  Frederick,  with  exactly  the 
expression  which  she  knew  (and  what  woman  with  fine  eyies  does  not 
know?)  would  have  gone  nearest  to  the  source  of  long  buried  feeling. 
She  would  have  sung  that  silly  ballad  again,  perhaps  with  trembling 
and  hesitation,  but  still  she  would  have  sung  it,  or  have  tried  to  sin^ 
it ;  and  then  towards  the  close  of  the  performance,  her  eyes  would 
have  been  cast  down,  and  a  tear  might  have  stolen  from  beneath  their 
long  dark  lashes,  and  her  voice  grown  gradually  more  plaintive,  until 
at  last  it  died  away  in  a  kind  of  distant  melody,  leaving  her  quondam 
lover  and  herself  in  the  most  exquisite  reverie  imaginable ;  from  which 
she  would  most  probably,  at  last,  have  started  with  a  pretended  effort 
at  self-mastery  ;  and  then,  as  she  rose  to  leave  the  arbour,  and  while 
Sir  Frederick  stooped  for  her  guitar,  she  would  have  pointed  to  the 
blue  riblwn,  by  which  it  was  wont  to  be  supported  on  her  fair  shoulder^^ 
saying,  it  was  the  same  which  he  gave  her  when  in  Scotland,  and  that 
she  cherished  such  memorials  of  past  pleasure,  as  all  that  her  existence 

3k2 


448  Siickiiey^s  Plciurea  rf  PHwie  la^ 

liad  now  to  make  it  worth  enduring :  and  then  tears  again,  bat  not  turn- 
many,  lest  her  countenance  should  be  disfigured.  By  this  time  they 
would  have  had  the  choice  of  two  paths ;  the  one  leading  directly  to 
the  house,  and  the  other  round  by  a  melancholy  walk,  shaded  with 
trees,  and  dark  with  evergreens.  Without  any  appearance  of  design, 
she  would  have  chosen  this  walk  in  preference  to  the  other ;  first 
stooping  down  to  gather  a  little  sprig  of  forget-me-not,  and  placing  it 
■ear  her  heart.  The  conversation  might  then  have  been  led  by  deli- 
cate and  ingenious  management  to  former  scenes,  conveying  the  most 
touching  allusions  to  sentiments  and  feelings  cherished  in  vain,  and 
mourned  over  in  secret  bitterness  of  soul.  And  thus,  by  the  time 
they  had  reached  the  door  of  Andrew  Miller,  they  might  both  have- 
been  at  so  high  a  pitch  of  excitement,  that  Anna  might  have  forgotten 
her  friend,  her  poverty^  and  her  pupils,  and  Sir  Frederick  might  have 
paid  the  same  compliment  to  nis  lady.  And  after  all  this,  Anna 
might  have  laid  her  hand  upon  her  heart,  as  thousands  have  done  on- 
similar  occasions,  and  said  that  she  meant  no  harm. 

'  She  might,  it  is  true,  have  done  nothing,  and  said  nothing,  which, 
singly  examined  and  considered,  bore  the  stamp  of  evil :  but  what  a 
fiurce,  what  a  folly,  is  this  self-exculpation :  for  by  these  secret  move- 
ments from  the  side  of  virtue,  of  which  no  earthly  judge  can  convict 
us,  we  place  ourselves  immediately  on  the  side  of  vice ;  and  to  the 
early  practice  of  this  system  of  mauceuvreing,  though  apparently  inno- 
^nt,  and  too  often  pleasing  in  itself,  how  many  have  to  look  back  with 
sorrow  and  r^ret  from  the  gloomy  close  of  a  despised  and  ^endless 
old  age ;  it  may  be,  from  the  miserable  abodes  of  folly,  and  wretched- 
ness, and  crime.  The  weight  of  culpability  rests  not  upon  any  indi- 
vidual circumstance  ;  it  is  the  manner,  it  is  the  motive,  it  is  the  feel- 
ing by  which  every  act  and  word  is  accompanied,  which  constitutes  the 
sin :  and  a  deep  and  deadly  sin  it  will  be  to  many  in  the  great  day  of 
account,  when  their  secret  thoughts  are  laid  open. 

'  Oh !  that  women  would  be  faithful  to  themselves !  It  makes  the 
heart  bleed  to  think  that  these  high-souled  beings,  who  stand  forth  in 
the  hour  of  severe  and  dreadful  trial,  armed  with  a  magnanimijby  that 
knows  no  fear  ;  with  enthusiasm  that  has  no  sordid  ailoy ;  with  pa- 
tience that  would  support  a  martyr :  with  generosity  that  a  patriot 
might  be  proud  to  borrow  ;  and  feeling  that  might  shine  as  a  wreath 
of  beauty,  over  the  temples  of  a  dying  saint : — it  makes  the  heart 
bleed  to  think,  that  the  noble  virtues  of  woman's  character  should  be 
veiled,  and  obscured,  by  the  taint  of  weak  vanity,  and  lost  in  the  base 
love  of  flirtation :  making  herself  the  mockery  of  the  multitude,  in- 
stead of  acting  the  simple  and  dignified  part  of  the  friend,  the  wife,  or 
the  mother  ;  degrading  her  own  nature,  by  flaunting  in  the  public  eye 
the  semblance  of  afl\;ction,  when  its  sweet  soul  is  wanting ; — ^polluting 
the  altar  of  love  by  oflTcring  up  the  ashes  of  a  wasted  heart.  Oh ! 
woman,  woman  !  thousands  have  been  beguiled  by  this  thy  folly,  but 
thou  hast  ever  been  the  deepest  sufferer !  Thine  is  a  self-imposed  and 
irrevocable  exile  from  all,  for  which  the  heart  of  woman  pines  in  se- 
cret; over  which  it  broods  in  her  best  hours  of  tenderness  and  love. 
Talk  not  of  domestic  happiness — it  can  be  thine  no  more.  The  plague- 
spot   is  upon    thy  bosom,   and   its  health,   and   purity,  and  peace. 


Stickney's  Pictures  of  Private  Life.  449 

gone  for  ever.  Thou  hast  fluttered  forth  upon  the  giddy 
winds,  like  the  leaf  that  wantons  from  the  bough ;  the  same  uncertain 
blast  may  lay  thee  at  the  root  of  the  parent  stem,  but  it  will  only  be 
to  fade,  and  wither,  and  die.  Oh  !  dream  not  of  returning,  when  tired 
of  idle  wanderings ;  for  thy  return  can  only  be  that  of  the  weary  dove 
to  her  forsaken  nest,  cold,  and  cheerless,  and  desolate  ! '  pp.  1 43— 147* 

We  must  make  room  for  two  detached  paragraphs  for  the  ex- 
cellent sentiment  they  embody. 

'  Tliose  who  would  devote  themselves  to  the  service  of  their  fellow- 
ereatures,  must  be  prepared  for  many  an  ungrateful  return, — for  many 
a  heart-rending  repulse ;  to  which,  nothing  but  the  consciousness  of 
being  about  their  Master's  business,  can  reconcile  the  sensitive  mind. 
Those  who  would  save  a  sufferer  from  death,  must  often  present  an  un- 
welcome draught  to  lips  that  loathe  its  bitterness ;  and  those  who 
would  save  a  soul  from  sin,  must  bear  with  that  rebellious  soul  in  aU 
its  struggles  to  return  ;  for  it  is  not  by  one  tremendous  effort  that  the 
bonds  of  earthly  passion  can  be  broken.  The  work  in  which  they  are 
engaged  is  a  work  of  patience,  not  of  triumph ;  and  there  must  be 
lonff  seasons  of  painful  endurance,  of  watchfulness,  and  prayer,  which 
nothing  but  a  deep  and  devoted  love  to  the  Heavenly  Father  whose 
service  they  are  engaged  in,  can  possibly  enable  them  to  sustain.'— 
pp.  100,  101. 

'  "  Haw  interesting  /  "  exclaims  the  enthusiast ;  and  immediately 
her  beau  ideal  is  clothed  in  a  mantle  of  imaginary  beauty.  Within 
may  be  an  empty  void,  it  matters  not.  Vanity  or  vice  may  lurk  be- 
low, they  are  alike  unheeded.  Misery  and  disappointment  may  be 
shrouded  beneath,  they  are  endured  with  the  patience  of  a  martyr. 
And  why  ?  Because  the  object  is  interesting,  and  consequently  it  be- 
comes an  idol. 

*  Again :  when  any   thing  earthly  or  unearthly  has  received  the 
fatal  condemnation  of  being  pronounced   uninteresting,  how  utterly 
hopeless  and  vain   is  every  attempt  to  force  it  upon  the  attention  of 
those  who.  have  been  accustomed  to  look  only  through  the  false  medium 
of  sickly  sentiment !     Unheeded,   unnoticed,  by  them,  uninteresting 
philosophy  may  labour  in  secret  over  the  investigation  of  truth ;  un- 
interesting charity  may  go  forth  upon  her  errands  of  mercy  ;  uninter-^ 
esting  resignation  may  watch  beside  the  lowly  bed  of  sickness,  and' 
offer  up  from  unfeigned  lips  her  last  soul- felt  prayer ;  and  what  to- 
them  is  the  incense  of  uninteresting  piety,  though  it  should  burn  upon 
the  altar  of  the  heart,  consuming  all   that  is  gross  and  perishabloi 
and  purifying  the  immortal  spirit  for  a  new  existence  in  the  r^ons  of 
eternal  light.'— pp.  169,  170. 

Some  pleasing  poetry  is  interspersed  in  these  tales:  we  shall 
make  room  for  the  following. 

'  How  shall  I  build  an  altar. 
To  the  Author  of  my  days  ; 
With  lips  so  prone  to  faulter. 
How  shall  I  sound  his  praise  ? 


450  Notice. 

'  Thy  temples  were  too  lowly, 
Ob  !  great  Jerusalem ; 
The  Lord  of  hosts  too  holy> 
Too  pure>  to  dwell  in  tnem ! 

'  Then  how  shall  I,  the  weakest. 
His  servant  hope  to  be? 
ril  listen  when  tnou  speakest. 
Spirit  of  love  to  me  I 

'  ril  do  thy  holy  bidding. 
With  unrepming  heart : 
ril  bear  thy  gentle  chiding, 
For  merci^  thou  art. 

'  rU  bring  eacb  angry  feeling, 
A  sacrifice  to  thee ; 
rU  ask  thy  heavenly  healing. 
Even  for  mine  enemy. 

'  So  shall  I  build  an  altar. 

To  the  Author  of  my  days ; 
With  lips  though  prone  to  faulter. 
So  shall  I  sound  his  praise. ' 


NOTICE. 

Art.  VII.     The  Eulomohgical  Magazine,  Nos.  I.  to  III.     8va.  Price 
3s.  6d.  each.     Sept.  1832.     Jan.  and  April,  1833. 

We  have  been  much  pleased  with  the  perusal  of  the  first  three  num- 
bers of  this  interesting  periodical.  The  study  of  insects  is  one  which 
has  not  a  great  number  of  followers ;  a  circumstance  attributable  to 
the  paucity  of  suitable  works  to  be  met  with  in  this  country  relating 
to  it.  Some  wc  have  sccn^  so  full  of  technicalities  as  to  be  completely 
sealed  l)o<)ks  to  a  student^  and  others,  nominally  popular,  so  tinged  by 
evident  fiction  as  to  be  unworthy  of  credit.  Ine  present  work  avoi£ 
these  extremes,  and  delights  us  with  the  account  of  real  wonders,  to 
ourselves  far  more  amusing  than  imaginary  ones.  In  this  particular 
department  the  letters  of  '  Rusticus '  on  Blight,  stand  pre-eminent. 
There  is  a  quiet  truth  of  description,  an  untiring  observance  of  nature, 
an  easy  and  appropriate  style  of  narration,  which  we  have  seldom  seen 
equalled.  The  scientific  articles  are  contributed  by  some  of  our  first 
naturalists.  Wc  need  only  mention  the  names  of  Swainson,  New- 
man, Curtis,  Walker,  and  Iluliday,  to  shew  that  the  Entomological 
ISIagazine  is  supported  by  first-rate  ability. 


(     451     ) 


Art.  VIII.     LITERARY  INTELLIGENCE. 

In  the  press.  Evidences  of  Christianity,  by  Charles  P.  M'llvaine, 
D.D.  Bishop  of  Ohio:  forming  Vol.  IX.  of  the  Seleqt  Library:  and  re- 
commended to  the  Publishers  of  that  Series  by  Olinthus  Gregory, 
LL.D. 

In  the  pr(;ss.  Dr.  Adam  Clarke's  Family  Bible,  in  folio.  Part  I., 
containing  Six  Sheets,  to  be  continued  fortnightly,  or  ofitener. 

Just  ready.  School  and  Family  INIanual :  a  Series  of  Conyers^'pns 
between  a  Father  and  his  Children,  explaining  t^he  mo^t  i)q[1ppr.ta^t 
subjects  of  £arly  Instruction  in  a  familiar  style,  adapted  for  Pre- 
paratory Schools.  Ladies'  Schools,  and  Domestic  Teaching.  Vol.  I. 
Geometry;  Vol.  II.  Arithmetic  (in  Two  Parts),  Part  I.  To  be  con- 
tipue<il  occasionally. 

Just  ready.  Principles  of  Astronomy.  By  William  Brett,  M.A. 
Fellow  of  Corpus-Christi  College,  Cambridge.  Part  II.  containing 
Physical  Astronomy. 

Mr.  Morris's  long-expected  Memoirs  of  the  late  Rev.  Robert  Hall, 
will  be  published  (o.  v.)  on  the  1st  of  June  1833.  In  one  volume 
octavo. 

Preparing  for  pi^bli caption,  A  History  of  Madagascar,  in  connexion 
vith  the  Protestant  Mission^  from  its  commencement  in  1818  to  th^ 
present  time ;  with  an  account  of  the  Country,  the  Religion,  Man^,ers, 
and  Customs  of  the  Inhabitants,  principally  in  the  interior.  By  the 
Missionaries  on  the  I^and.  Edited  by  the  Rev.  William  Ellis, 
Author  of  ''  Polynesian  Researches."  In  2  vols.  8vo.  with  Maps  and 
PJates. 

In  May  will  be  published,  A  Memoir  of  Felix  Neff.  By  Thomas 
Scales  Ellerby.     In  one  volume. 

In  the  press  and  speedily  will  be  published,  the  Life  and  Diary  of 
the  Rev.  Halph  Frskine,  A.M.  Dunfermline,  one  pf  the  Founders  of 
the  Secession  Church.  Qy  the  Rev.  D.  Fraser  Kennpway.  The  materials 
c^  this  work  have  been  derived  from  a  great  variety  of  Original  Sources, 
including  Mr.  Brskine's  Diary,  Note  Books  and  Letters.  It  wiU  be 
found  calculated,  it  is  hoped,  to  promote  vital  piety  among  ministers 
and  private  christians  of  every  name,  and  to  advance  the  interests  of 
*'  truth  and  peace  "  in  the  church. 


(    453    ) 


Art.  IX.    WORKS  RECENTLY  PUfeLlSHED. 


BXOOKAPHT. 

Memoir  of  the  Life  and  Writings  of  the 
late  Rev.  George  Burder,  Author  of  "  Vil- 
lage Sermons'*,  and  Secretary  to  the  Lon- 
don Missionary  Society.  By  Henry  Foster 
Burder,  D.D.  1  vol.  8vo. 

The  Life  of  the  late  Dr.  Adam  Clarke; 
(from  Original  Papers).  By  a  Member  of 
bis  Family.  Vol.  11.  8vo. 

HISTORT. 

History  of  the  Dissenters.  By  David 
Bofpie,  D.D.)  and  James  Bennett,  D.D. 
A  New  Edition,  in  2  vols.  8vo.  Revised 
and  corrected  by  the  surviving  Author. 

MISCKLLAKKOU8. 

The  Church  of  Kngfand  indefensible  by 
Holy  Scripture :  being  a  reply  to  several 
recent  defences  of  the  Establishment,  and 
especially  to  two  discourses  by  the  Rev. 
J.  Garbett,  M.A.,  of  Birmingham.  By 
George  Redford,  M.A.  8vo.  2s. 

A  Course  of  Lectures  un  the  Coinage 
of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  delivered  in 
the  University  of  Oxford.  By  Edward 
Cardwell,  D.Dn  Principal  of  St.  Alban*8 
Hall,  and  Camden  Professor  of  Ancient 
History.  8vo.  8j.  6d. 

POLITICAL. 

An  Examination  of  the  Bank  Charter 
Question,  with  an  Inquiry  into  the  Nature 
of  a  Just  Standard  of  Value,  and  Sugges- 
tions for  the  Improvement  of  our  Monetary 
Svstem.  By  G.  Poulett  Scrupe,  Esq., 
F.R.S.,  &c.  8vo. 


THlOLOOr. 

The  Estential  Divinity  of  Christ,  in 
connexion  with  his  Human  Nature^  the 
Necessarv  Basis  of  his  Mediatorial  Cha- 
racter. By  B.  Quaife,  Antborof  **A  Me- 
mento for  the  AflUctedL"  8s.  ctoth  printed. 
l$.6d  wrappers. 

The  Scripture  Teadier'c  Aaaistant:  — 
Fifty-two  Subjects  from  the  Goxpd  Hit- 
tory  of  our  Lord  and  Sariour  Jesus  Christ; 
with  Explanations,  Lettoas,  and  a  Pbn  of 
Teaching :  the  whole  arranged  as  a  Yearly 
Course  of  Religious  Instruction  lor  Sanday 
Schools,  Bible  Classes,  and  Families.  By 
Henry  Alihans.  IBmo.  is.  6d, 

The  Difficulties  of  Infidelity ;  or  the 
Obstacles.  Intellectual  and  Moral,  to  an 
Infidel  State  of  Mind.  A  Sermon,  de^ 
livered  at  a  Lecture,  Instituted  by  the 
Christian  Instruction  Society  for  the  bene- 
fit of  Mechanics  and  others,  in  Tonbridge 
Chapel,  New  Road,  Somen  Totm,  oa 
Tuesday,  Feb.  26th,  1833.  By  John 
Hoppus,  A.M.,  Professor  of  the  Phitoso* 
phy  of  the  Mind  and  Logic  In  the  Uni?er- 
sity  of  London. 

Abbreviated  Diseoutses.  By  John 
Leifchild.  8vo.  Os.  6d. 

Outlines  of  Lectures  on  the  Book  of 
Daniel  By  the  Rev.  F.  A.  Coi,  LUD. 
Second  Edition.   ISmo.  Sf. 

The  Prodigal,  or  Youth  admooisbed* 
By  the  Rev.  J.  Thornton.  Is.  6ii.  doth. 

TKATKLS. 

A  Tour  on  the  Great  Lakes  of  Aine> 
rioa.  and  through  the  North-west  Terri- 
tory, &C.,  with  Notices  of  the  Indinis.  Bf 
Calvin  Colton,  M.A. 


THE 


ECLECTIC    REVIEW, 


For  JUNE,  1833. 


Art.  I.  1.  Report  from  the  Select  Committee  on  Secondary  Punishments. 
Ordered  by  the  House  of  Commons  to  be  printed ;  June,  1832. 
With  Notes  and  Appendix  by  the  Committee  of  the  Society  for 
the  Improvement  of  Prison  Discipline.  8vo.  pp.  80.  London, 
1832. 

2.  Thoughts  on  Secondary  Punishments,  in  a  Letter  to  Earl  Grey. 
By  Richard  Whately,  D.D.,  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  To  which 
are  appended.  Two  Articles  on  Transportation  to  New  South 
Wales,  and  on  Secondary  Punishments ;  and  some  Observations  on 
Colonization.  8vo.  pp.  204.  Price  7s.  London,  1C32. 

T  T  would  seem  to  be  the  dictate  of  sound  policy,  as  well  as  of 
"^  justice, — a  principle  of  common  sense,  that  the  criminal  and 
the  unoffending  victim  of  misfortune  should  not  be  subjected  to 
the  same  treatment.  Yet,  in  more  cases  than  one,  we  ^nd  this 
rule  practically  violated  by  our  social  institutions.  To  instance 
the  punishment  of  temporary  imprisonment.  Of  the  numbers 
committed  to  gaol  on  different  charges,  varying  from  the  smallest 
to  the  most  atrocious  offence,  the  proportion  of  those  against 
whom  no  bills  are  found,  is  about  one  tenth ;  of  those  who  are 
acquitted,  nearly  a  fifth ;  so  that,  of  those  who  suffer  a  degrading 
and  demoralizing  imprisonment  for  a  longer  or  shorter  term, 
about  three  in  ten,  or  not  quite  a  third,  are  legally  innocent;  and 
of  these,  a  large  proportion  actually  blameless.  This  is  exclusive 
of  vagrants  summarily  committed,  and  debtors,  whose  only  crime, 
in  a  large  proportion  of  instances,  is  poverty.  Again  :  there  is 
the  heavier  punishment  of  penal  bondage.  A  convict  is  sentenced 
to  be  deprived  of  his  freedom,  and  to  be  kept  to  hard  labour,  for 
some  aggravated  offence  against  society.  But  what  is  the  crime 
of  the  Creole  offspring  of  a  negress  in  one  of  our  West  India 
colonies,  for  which  he  is  doomed  to  the  perpetual  loss  of  liberty, 
and  to  toil  in  the  plantations  under  the  fear  of  the  task-master^s 

VOL.  IX.  —  N.s.  3  L 


454  On  Secondary  PMrnUhmenis. 

lash  ?  Would  it  not  be  more  coiuoiunit  with  justice,  to  give  the 
unoffending  slave  his  freedom,  and  send  the  inmates  of  our  hulks 
to  work  out  their  time  in  the  sugar  colonies  ?  Once  more,  there 
is  appointed  for  crimes  of  the  deepest  dye,  the  punishment  of 
transportation.  For  this,  the  capital  sentence  is  often  commuted. 
Yet,  call  it  colonization,  and  the  self^ime  punishment  is  continu- 
ally being  inflicted  upon  scarcely  less  reluctant,  but  unofiending 
exiles,  with  this  only  difference ;  that  the  conrict  is  sent  to  run 
out  his  bold  career  under  the  fine  climate  of  Australia,  the  emi- 
grant to  shiver  in  Canada. 

Of  all  secondary  punishments,  what  is  called  transportation 
would  seem  to  be  the  least  efficient  and  the  most  objectionable, 
since  its  effect  depends  altogether  upon  the  previous  habits  and 
situation  of  the  convict ;  and  in  proportion  as  he  deserves  punish- 
ment, it  ceases  to  be  of  penal  efficacy.  *  Agricultural  laix>urers 
^  with  families  \  it  is  remarked  in  the  Report  before  us,  *  dread  it 
^  extremely  ;  while,  to  single  men,  to  mechanics  who  are  sure  of 

*  receiving  high  wages,  and  generally  to  all  those  who  feel  a  desire 

*  of  change,  and  a  vague  expectation  of  pushing  their  fortunes,  it 

*  appears  to  hold  out  no  terrors  whatever.^  To  the  great  bulk, 
therefore,  of  those  who  are  actually  transported,  the  punishment 
amounts  to  this;  that  *  they  are  carried  to  a  country  wnoaeelimate 

*  is  delightful,  producing  in  profusion  all  the  necessaries  and  most 

*  of  the  luxuries  of  life ; — that  they  have  a  certainty  of  mainte- 

*  nance,  instead  of  an  uncertainty  ;  are  better  fed,  clothed,  and 

*  lodged  than  (by  honest  means)  they  ever  were  before ;  and  if 

*  their  conduct  is  not  intolerably  bad,  are  permitted,  even  befbn 

*  the  expiration  of  their  term,  to  become  settlers  on  a  fertile  fimn, 
■  *  which  with  very  moderate  industry  they  may  transmit  aa  a  sore 
'  *  and  plentiful  provision  to  their  children.^  Archbishop  Wbaldy 
'    may  be  thought  to  have  here  painted  transportatioD  in  rtrj 

^  glowing  colours ;  but  the  correctness  of  the  statement  is  borne 
:  out  by  the  evidence  brought  before  the  Select  Committee.  The 
accounts  sent  home  from  New  South  Wales  and  Van  Dtemen^s 
Land  are  stated,  in  the  Report,  to  be  so  favourable,  as  to  prodnoe 
a  strong  impression,  that  transportation  may  be  considered  aa  aa 
advantage  rather  than  a  punishment. 


'  From  the  structure  of  society  there,  these  objections  can  with  diC- 
culty  be  overcome.  The  labourers  are  so  scarce,  that  on  the  arrival  of 
a  convict-ship,  every  convict  not  retained  in  the  sendee  of  the  Govern* 
ment,  is  eagerly  engaged  by  the  settlers,  who  are  always  ready  to  tafcs 
more  than  can  be  furnished  to  them.  As  the  object  of  a  settler,  in 
taking  a  convict  into  his  service,  is  to  improve  his  own  property,  and 
benefit  himself,  without  reference  to  any  considerations  <n  a  pnblie 
nature,  instead  of  inflicting  any  punishment  on  him,  he  naturally 
endeavours  to  render  his  situation  as  little  irksome  as  possible.  Aupw 
proof  will  be  foand  in  the  former  part  of  the  Minutes  of  EvidsBoe  ti 


On  Secondary  PunUhments.  455 

shew,  that>  the  aeoae  of  d^;radatio2i  once  overcome,  the  situation  of  the 
convict  assigned  to  a  settler  is  in  many  respects  preferable  to  that  of 
the  agricultural  labourer  in  this  country ;  that  his  food  is  more  abun- 
dant, his  clothing  better,  and  that,  to  add  to  his  enjoyments,  he  has 
the  advantage  of  a  fine  climate,  with  the  certainty,  if  he  conducts 
himself  with  propriety,  of  becoming  virtually  free  in  a  few  years,  by 
obtaining  a  Ticket  of  Leave.  If  the  condition  of  agricultural  labourers 
is  improved  by  transportation,  mechanics  find  themselves  still  more 
advantageously  situated  ,*  the  demand  fur  their  labour  is  so  great,  and 
its  remuneration  so  high,  as  to  render  it  easy  for  many  who  are  in  the 
service  of  Government  to  purchase  the  connivance  of  the  overseers 

giemselves  convicts),  by  which  they  find  means  of  sleeping  out  of  the 
nvict  Barracks,  and  of  working  after-hours  at  their  respective 
trades  ;  and  many  others  are  allowed  to  do  so  as  a  reward  for  good 
behaviour.  Those  mechanics  who  are  assigned  to  settlers  have  still 
greater  fiusilities  for  indulgence,  as  their  masters  find  it  to  their  interest 
to  offer  them  very  advantageous  terms  and  privileges  wholly  incon- 
sistent with  a  state  of  punishment,  with  a  view  to  obtain,  in  return, 
the  full  value  of  their  labour.  They  are  consequently  enabled  to  lead 
a  life  of  comparative  ease,  with  few  of  the  restraints  befitting  a  state 
of  punishment,  and  quite  inconsistent  with  moral  improvement. 

*  Such  is,  generally  speaking,  the  condition  or  the  labourer  or 
mechanic,  while  undergoing  the  severe  part  of  his  sentence ;  but  if  he 
so  conduct  himself  as  to  remain  in  tne  service  of  one  master,  he  is 
allowed,  if  transported  for  seven  years,  a  Ticket  of  Leave  at  the  end 
of  four  years ;  if  for  fourteen  years,  at  the  end  of  six  years ;  and  if  for 
life,  at  the  end  of  eight  years.  The  acquisition  of  a  Ticket  of  Leave 
may  be  considered  as  one  step  towards  emancipation  ;  the  possessor  of 
it,  though  oonfined  to  a  particular  district,  ana  liable  to  be  deprived 
of  it  for  misconduct,  is  allowed  to  work  on  his  own  account ;  and  the 
high  rate  of  wages  furnishes  him  with  the  means  of  acquiring  capital, 
with  which  he  is  enabled,  at  the  expiration  of  his  sentence,  to  set  up 
in  business ;  and  it  is  stated,  that  instances  are  not  unfrequent  of 
persons  sent  out  originally  as  convicts  having  become  possessed  of  con- 
siderable wealth.'    Report,  pp.  26,  27. 

There  is  this  further  evil  in  transportation,  noticed  by  Arch- 
bishop  Wkately  as  peculiar  to  this  equivocal  punishment,  that 
when  a  convict  is  transported,  (the  execution  of  the  sentence 
being  itself  uncertain,)  there  is  an  immense  variety  of  lots  that 
may  befall  him. 

'  He  may  live  either  in  the  town  or  in  the  country  ;  may  serve  the 
government  or  a  settler  ;  have  a  good  or  a  bad  master ;  remain  poor  or 
grow  rich  ;  be  well  or  ill  treated ;  be  a  tutor  or  a  shepherd ;  a  govern- 
ment clerk  or  a  tavern  waiter  :  whence  it  arises,  that  every  one  selects 
the  condition  which  is  most  agreeable  to  himself,  and  expects  to  meet 
with  that  particular  destination :  any  case  of  hardship  which  may  come 
to  his  ears,  he  sets  down  as  a  lamentable  accident  for  the  unhappy 
sufferer,  who  is  much  to  be  pitied  for  his  misfortune ;  but  he  never 
thinks  of  applying  it  to  his  own  case.    The  banker's  clerk,  or  the 

3l2 


456  On  ^Secondary  Punishments, 

London  thief,  expects  to  be  a  tutor,  or  to  be  employed  in  a  pnUic 
office :  the  mechanic  expects  to  cheat  the  government  and  work  tor  his 
own  profit :  the  agricultural  labourer  to  have  little  latigae,  and  be  weD 
fed,  clothed,  and  lodged.  And  the  truth  is,  that  they  are  generallj 
right  in  their  respective  calculations,  as  the  government  is  forced  to 
employ  them  in  the  way  which  best  suits  their  former  habits;  in  other 
words,  in  the  vrviy  most  agreeable  to  themselves.  Transportation  may, 
indeed,  be  said  to  unite  in  itself  all  the  attributes  of  a  baa  punishment; 
to  furnish  a  model  for  a  penal  system  which  should  be  imitated  by 
contraries.  Even  if  it  were  rendered  certain  by  making  it  the  omm 
secondary  punishment,  this  change  would  rather  aggravate  the  evil 
For  its  chief  defect  is  its  extreme  mildness  and  want  of  terrors,  and 
the  happy  facilitv  with  which  it  adapts  its  various  pleasures  to  the 
case  of  each  individual.  Hence,  by  persons  under  sentence  in  Eng- 
land, it  is  coveted  rather  than  dreaded,  and  is  an  object  of  ambition 
rather  than  aversion.  While  of  the  convicts,  some  are  tormented  with 
the  fear  of  death  ;  some  depressed  with  the  dismcc  of  a  conviction  in 
their  native  country  ;  some  with  the  dread  of  the  hulks,  others  of  the 
penitentiary  ;  and  while  most  are  intent  on  the  prospect  of  wealth  and 
importance  in  a  new  home,  the  tickets  of  the  lottery  are  drawn,  and 
happy  they  who  get  the  prize  of  transportation. 

' ''  Alii  patidunlur  inanes 
Suspengi  ad  ventos  ;  aliis  sub  gurgiie  vasto 
Jnfectum  eluiiur  scelus,  aut  exnritur  igni, 
QuUque  suos  palimur  manes :  exinde  per  amplum 
Mititmur  Elysium,  et  pauci  la:ta  arva  tenemus" ' 
'  The  pain  inflicted  by  this  punishment  is  insufficient  in  amount, 
irregular  in  its  operation,  often  unknown  on  account  of  the  distance  at 
which  it  is  endured,  and  if  known,  so  uncertain  as  not  to  be  reckoned 
on  :  its  disgrace  is  not  felt,  because  the  sufferers  are  out  of  the  sight 
of  those  whom  they  respect :  it  injures  the  mother  country  by  substi- 
tuting the  semblance  for  the  reality  of  punishment :    it  injures  the 
colony  by  forming  a  society  of  the  most  worthless  and  abandoned 
wretches  drafted  from  the  prisons  of  a  large  community.    By  annually 
pouring  in  fresh  supplies  of  this  moral  poison ;  by  concentrating,  mul- 
tiplying, and  perpetuating  the  scatterea  and  transitory  forms  of  vice, 
it  has  made  this  new  and  wealthy  settlement  a  storehouse  of  depravity, 
one  vast  heap  of  moral  corruption.     It  is  a  system  from  which  nothing 
is  to  be  hoped,  and  everything  to  be  feared ;  a  system  of  elaborate  mis- 
chief and  consistent  impolicy,  originating  in  helplessness,  continued  in 
ignorance,  and  tolerated  only  by  supine  and  culpable  indifference.' 

Whately,  pp.  161—164. 

This  18  very  strongly  put ;  but  really,  the  more  the  system  is 
examined  in  all  its  bearings,  in  its  costliness,  its  inefficiency,  its 
irregular  and  unequal  operation,  and  its  prejudicial  consequences, 
the  more  astonishing  it  will  appear  that  it  should  so  long  have 
been  persisted  in.  The  only  recommendations  of  this  punish- 
ment are  wholly  foreign  from  its  penal  efficiency.  They  are,  so 
far  as  we  can  discover,  simply  these  two ;  that  it  provides  the 


On  Secondary  Punishments.  467 

Australian  provinces  with  bond-servants,  and  that  it  gets  rid  of 
the  individuals,  as  regards  the  country  which  sends  them  out) 
but  which  pays  dearly  for  the  riddance.  As  to  the  first  point,  it 
seems,  that  ^  all  proposals  to  discontinue  the  annual  shipments  of 

*  convicts  to  the  Australian  provinces,  meet  with  great  opposition 

*  from  the  free  inhabitants  of  those  colonies,  who  consider  that 

*  they  have  a  vested  right  to  be  provided  with  bond-slaves  at  the 

*  public  expense ;  and  that  the  system,  which  might  have  been 
'  less  objectionable  in  the  early  state  of  the  colony,  is  to  be  main- 
'  tained  for  their  benefit,  however  injurious  it  may  prove  to  the 
'lasting  interests  both  of  the  mother  country  and  the  colony 

*  itself.'  Of  all  imaginary  *  vested  rights',  (the  phrase  is  an 
absurd  one,)  this  is,  perhaps,  the  most  extraordinary  that  was 
ever  made  the  subject  of  a  claim  with  a  view  to  resist  an  im- 
portant melioration.  The  opposition  of  the  Australian  colonists 
to  the  discontinuance  of  a  system  which  o])erates  as  a  bounty 
upon  crime,  in  order  to  qualify  offenders  to  become  their  bonds- 
men, will  not,  it  may  confidently  be  hoped,  be  allowed  to  weigh 
much  with  the  home  Government. 

But  then,  there  is  the  recommendation  which  the  system  pre- 
sents, not  as  a  punishment,  but  as  an  expedient  for  getting  rid  of 
the  malefactor.  Let  us  examine  this ;  for,  if  it  be  necessary  to 
get  rid  of  him,  and  this  be  the  cheapest  and  best  way  of  accom- 
plishing it,  then,  though  in  itself  a  bad  punishment,  it  may  be  a 
useful  regulation  for  the  interests  of  society. 

The  old  plan  of  ridding  society  of  malefactors  was  by  hanging 
tliem.  Death,  if  not  the  most  formidable  of  all  punishments  to 
the  offender,  is  perhaps  ^  the  most  economical.'  But  capital 
punishments  not  only  lose  their  salutary  effect  in  deterring  from 
the  commission  of  crime,  by  their  frequency  and  by  the  indis- 
criminate application  of  the  same  extreme  penalty  to  crimes  of 
different  malignity:  they  also  defeat  their  own  purpose,  by 
multiplying  the  chances  of  impunity,  arising  from  the  general  re- 
luctance to  prosecute  and  to  convict  where  the  life  of  the  culprit 
is  at  stake.  And  they  have  moreover  an  injurious  effect  on  society 
as  tending  to  lessen  the  horror  for  crime,  by  converting  minor 
offenders  into  objects  of  pity,  and  sometimes  dignifying  even 
greater  criminals  with  a  sort  of  heroism.  Thus,  as,  with  a 
rapidly  increasing  population,  the  number  of  crimes  is  augmented, 
at  the  same  time  that  civilization  advances,  it  becomes  impossible 
to  enforce  the  capital  penalty  in  that  wholesale  application  which 
the  laws  formerly  authorized,  or  to  keep  down  the  population  of 
the  prisons  by  this  convenient  but  ruthless  expedient.  We  do 
not  at  present  enter  into  the  question  of  the  lawfulness  of  capital 
punishments,  but  confine  ourselves  to  the  fact,  that  they  are  found 
to  be,  in  the  present  state  x)f  society,  inexpedient  and,  upon  a 
large  scale,  impracticable. 


458  On  Secondary  PunUhmenis. 

This  plan  of  ridding  Society  not  being  found  to  antwer,  the 
next  idea  which  seems  to  have  presented  itself  to  the  Legislature 
was,  to  send  the  culprit  as  far  away  as  possible,— to  inflict  a 
political  death  upon  the  offender  by  banishment.  There  are  some 
crimes  which  might,  we  think,  be  properly  visited  with  simple 
banishment.  The  culprit,  in  that  case,  is  free  to  live  where  he 
pleases,  so  long  as  he  does  not  return  to  infest  his  own  country. 
This  is  certainly  a  cheaper  method  of  getting  rid  of  the  bad  folk, 
inasmuch  as  it  saves  the  charge  of  transportation  across  seas,  and 
all  future  expenses  involved  in  the  safeguard  or  control  of  the 
convict.  And  if  the  object  of  the  punishment  be  simply  what 
Jeremy  Bentham  calls  disablement^  this  end  is  answered  as  com- 
pletely by  expulsion  as  by  penal  colonization.  The  only  thing  to 
be  guarded  against  is,  the  clandestine  return  of  the  banished  party, 
which  would  require  to  be  visited  with  heavier  penalties. 

But  of  what  is  it  desirable  that  Society  should  get  rid  ?  Of  the 
presence  of  the  offender,  of  the  cost  of  maintaining  him,  or  of  the 
apprehension  of  his  future  misdeeds  ?  The  culprit  is  as  effectually 
removed  from  society  by  being  imprisoned  in  a  penitentiary  or  a 
convict  ship,  as  by  being  sent  to  Botany  Bay.  As  to  the  cost, 
that  is  not  got  rid  of  by  his  transportation,  which  is  the  moat  ex- 
pensive mode  of  punishing  him.  As  to  the  apprehension  of  his 
doing  future  mischief,  if  it  be  merely  a  question,  whether  he  shall 
do  mischief  in  this  country  or  in  another  country,  in  the  moral  and 
political  welfare  of  which  we  are  deeply  implicated,  and  where  his 
evil  example  would  be  still  more  pernicious,  surely  the  changing 
the  scene  of  his  delinquency  is  not  a  valid  reason  for  adopting 
this  compromise  of  punishment.  Upon  this  point,  we  think  there 
is  considerable  force  in  the  following  remarks,  which  we  transcribe 
from  an  article  on  Secondary  Punishments  in  No.  XIX.  of  the  Law 
Magazine ;  a  Quarterly  Journal  conducted  with  much  ability. 
After  citing  from  the  Report  of  the  Committee  some  observations 
to  which  we  shall  presently  advert,  in  favour  of  this  mode  of  dis- 
posing of  criminals,  the  writer  says : 

<  Now,  in  the  first  place,  this  argument  assumes,  that  the  mother 
country  is  justified  in  sacrificing  the  interest  of  the  colony  to  its  own 
interest ;  that  the  English  Government  is  not  to  regard  toe  welfiwe  of 
N.  South  Wales,  but  is  free  to  use  it  as  a  receptacle  for  those  persons 
who  are  too  dangerous  to  remain  at  home.  Now  this  is  a  maxim  of 
colonial  government,  which,  though  unhappily  it  has  been  too  pre- 
valent in  many  states,  we  take  the  liberty  of  rejecting  as  both  impolitic 
and  unjust.  Colonies  are  subordinate  political  societies  belonging  to 
the  society  which  is  their  mother  country ;  subject  with  her  to  (me 
sovereign  power,  and  equally  entitled  to  its  protection  and  consider* 
ation.  To  establish  a  colony,  therefore,  in  oraer  to  serve  as  a  drain  fiar 
the  impurities  of  the  mother  country,  is  to  do  an  act  which  no  easnistry 
can  defend.    Even  if  it  were  possible,  by  feonding  a  new  society  irim 


th«  worat  outcasts  of  a  large  natjoQji  to  exterminate  or  gfe»tXj  reduce 
the  body  of  persons  who  live  by  the  commission  of  crime,  nothing 
could,  in  our  opinion,  justify  such  a  measure.  In  a  large  nation,  the 
discharged  convicts,  whether  criminals  or  not,  could  never,  under  a 
tolerable  penal  system,  make  a  large  part  of  the  whole  population ;  and 
if  criminals  are  mischievous  when  they  form  a  small  part  of  the  com-* 
munity,  what  must  they  be  when  they  form  the  whole?  But  it  is  not 
possible  to  reduce  the  number  of  criminals  by  drafting  off  conricts  to  a 
place  of  reward ;  and  we  may  say  of  transportation  without  panish« 
ment,  what  has  been  said  of  emigration  without  amendment  of  the 
poor  laws,  that  "  to  attempt  to  diminish  crime  by  removing  a  portion 
of  criminals,  and  yet  leaving  in  full  force  the  most  powerful  machinery 
ever  applied  to  the  increase  of  crime,  is  to  attempt  to  exhaust  by  con* 
tinual  pumping  the  waters  of  a  perpetual  fountain."  There  is  no 
doubt  that  wicked  men,  intent  on  the  commission  of  crime,  whether 
they  have  been  convicted  or  not,  are  an  evil  to  a  country ;  nevertheless 
they  are  a  less  evil  in  the  mother  country  than  in  a  penal  colony. 
Poisons  which  are  almost  harmless  when  extenuated  and  diffused  in  a 
large  mass,  work  with  a  fatal  vigour  if  taken  in  a  concentrated  and 
separate  form.  Nor  is  it  a  simple  question  of  numerical  proportion, 
whether  a  bad  man  is  more  mischievous  with  ninety-nine  good  men  or 
with  ninety -nine  bad  men ;  but  the  future  increase  of  the  one  bad  man 
is  likewise  to  be  considered.  In  the  midst  of  a  large  society,  dis- 
countenanced by  the  general  opinion,  neglected  and  shunned  by  their 
relations  and  friends,  outstripped  by  the  industrious,  oppressed  with 
the  sense  of  disgrace,  blighted  in  all  their  prospects  by  the  knowledge 
of  their  dishonesty,  rarely  marrying  on  account  of  their  bad  character 
and  irregular  habits,  criminals  commonly  terminate  by  an  early  death 
their  career  of  riot,  dissipation,  debauchery,  wretchedness,  and  outrage, 
and  sank  into  the  great  ocean  of  society  "  without  a  grave,  unknelleda 
uncoffined,  and  unknown."  Such  is  the  way  in  which  the  propagation 
of  vice  is  hindered  in  the  regular  order  of  society.  We,  however,  in 
our  wisdom,  thinking  to  improve  on  this  arrangement,  and  too  im« 
patient  of  the  presence  of  the  vicious  to  await  their  natural  extinction, 
save  them  from  this  moral  shipwreck,  and  collect  them  into  one  spot, 
where  there  is  no  example  to  deter,  no  virtuous  public  opinion  to  dis- 
countenance, no  honest  industry  to  compete  with  them,  no  odious  com- 
parisons to  be  undergone ;  and  then,  insuring  always  a  regular  supply 
of  additional  recruits  from  the  gaols  of  the  mother  country,  like  the 
physical  philosophers  of  antiquity,  from  this  corruption  we  generate  ft 
new  society.'     Law  Mag.  No.  xix.  pp.  12,  13. 

But  it  is  alleged,  (in  the  Report  of  the  Select  Committee, 
p.  25,)  that  ^  unless  there  existed  some  such  nuxle  of  disporing  of 
^  criminals  whose  offences  do  not  merit  the  penalty  of  death,  out 
'  whose  morals  are  so  depraved  that  their  reformaticm  can  hardly 

*  he  expected,  no  alternative  wcmld  remain  between  perpetual  im- 

*  prisonment  and  the  constant  iofusion  into  society,  of  malefacton  ^ 

*  who,  after  the  term  of  their  punishment  had  arriTed,  would 
^  again  be  tlnrourn  a^  outcaata  on  tne  world,  without  character  aad 


460  On  Secondary  Punishments. 

*  without  the  means  of  gaining  an  honest  livelihood/  In  answer 
to  this  plea  for  retaining  transportation  as  a  secondary  punish- 
ment, we  would  remark,  first,  ttiat  this  constant  infusion  into 
society  of  malefactors,  is  going  on  at  a  rate  which  the  existence  of 
the  penal  colonies  may,  in  the  first  instance,  mitigate ;  but  against 
the  proportion  which  they  subtract,  must  be  set  the  encouragement 
which  transportation  holds  out  to  desperate  offenders.  Of  12,800 
persons  convicted  and  sentenced  in  England  and  Wales  in  1830, 
It  appears  that  there  were 

Sentenced  to  death 1397 

Of  whom  were  executed 46 

Leaving  for  transportation 1351 

Transported  for  Life 405 

14  years  and  upwards 1661 

3417 

Transported  for  7  years 217O 

6587 

In  the  same  year,  there  arrived  in  New  South  Wales,  3225 
convicts,  and  in  V^an  Diemen^s  Land  2045 ;  together,  5270.  In 
the  previous  year,  the  number  was  upwards  of  5000.  It  does 
not  appear  how  these  large  numbers  are  produced,  since  those 
sentenced  to  be  transjiortcd  for  not  more  than  seven  years,  are 
rarely  (if  ever)  sent  across  the  seas ;  and  the  numbers  sentenced 
to  be  transported  for  a  longer  period  in  Scotland  and  Ireland,  were 
only  about  500,  making  with  the  English  ctmvicts  less  than  3000. 
However  this  may  be,  the  number  of  those  sentenced  to  be  trans- 

J>ortcd  for  seven  years,  or  to  be  imprisoned  for  different  terms, 
rom  six  months  to  five  years,  in  England  and  Wales,  during  the 
last  seven  years,  is  68,702,  or,  on  an  average,  9B20  per  annum^ 
exclusive  of  about  5000  committed  to  gaol,  but  acquitted  or  dis- 
charged. Here,  then,  is  an  infusion  of  nearly  15,000  tainted,  if 
not  incorrigible  persons  every  year  into  English  society,  exclusive 
of  discharged  debtors  and  vagrants.  To  lessen  this  frightful 
amount,  becomes  an  object  of  vital  importance ;  but  the  question 
before  us  is,  whether  the  system  of  transportation  is  an  efficient 
alleviation  of  the  evil,  or  whether  it  does  not  tamper  with  the  dis- 
ease, instead  of  acting  with  remedial  virtue. 

The  argument  assumes,  that  those  selected  for  transportation 
are  criminals  whose  offences  do  not  merit  the  penalty  of  death, 
but  whose  depraved  morals  preclude  the  hope  of  their  reforma- 
tion. This  assumption  is  erroneous  in  both  respects.  The  con- 
vict, in  a  large  proportion  of  cases,  is  one  who  has  been  sentenced 


On  Secondary  Punishments,  461 

to  Buffer  death,  and  whose  offence  must  therefore  be  considered 
as  *  meriting  death/  as  much  as  any  crime  short  of  murder  can  be 
said  to  merit  that  penalty.  But  the  greatest  crimes  are  not  al- 
ways committed  by  the  most  depraved  offenders ;  nor  does  the 
crime  for  which  the  delinquent  is  sentenced  to  transportation,  at 
ford  any  criterion  of  the  degree  of  depravity  which  he  had  at- 
tained, when  arrested  in  his  career  of  crime.  It  might  have  been 
his  first  offence,  committed  under  the  instigation  of  sudden  pas- 
sion, or  the  persuasion  of  more  hardened  accomplices.  The  most 
depraved  and  incorrigible  offenders  are  often  found  among  those 
who  are  continually  violating  the  laws,  but  who  keep  clear  of  the 
bolder  crimes  for  which  the  laws  have  reserved  tne  penalty  of 
death  or  of  permanent  transportation.  Thus,  that  very  class  of 
malefactors  which  it  is  so  desirable  to  prevent  being  thrown  back 
upon  society,  for  the  most  part,  escape  the  sentence  which  secures 
their  removal,  and  after  the  expiration  of  their  term  of  imprison- 
ment, are  re-infused  into  the  general  mass.  It  is  true,  that  some- 
times old  offenders  are  sentenced  to  transportation  for  life,  on  ac- 
count of  their  notoriously  bad  character,  rather  than  for  the  spe- 
cific crime  of  which  they  are  found  guilty.  Waiving  the  question 
how  far  this  can  be  considered  as  a  sound  principle  of  criminal 
justice,  we  would  simply  remark,  that  such  old  ofienders  form  but 
a  certain  proportion  of  the  criminals  actually  sent  out  of  the 
country.  Thus,  some  are  transported  on  account  of  the  particu- 
lar crime  committed ;  some  on  the  ground  of  bad  character  or 
presumed  moral  depravity.  But  the  latter  are  as  unfit  to  be  se- 
lected as  colonists,  as  the  former  may  be  undeserving  of  being  con- 
founded with  the  thoroughly  depraved  and  incorrigible.  It  is, 
however,  those  who  are  not  so  depraved  as  to  preclude  the  hope 
of  their  reformation^  who  would  be  the  most  eligible  subjects  of 
the  experiment  of  penal  colonization. 

Transportation,  if  deprived  of  its  penal  character,  if  abolished 
as  a  punishment,  would  answer  well  as  an  expedient  for  disposing 
of  discharged  criminals  who  had  behaved  well  during  the  period 
of  their  imprisonment.  The  helpless  predicament  of  sucn  per- 
sons on  being  thrown  back  as  outcasts  upon  society,  without  cha- 
racter and  without  the  means  of  gaining  a  honest  livelihood, 
render  them  peculiar  objects  of  compassion  and  of  the  wise  bene- 
ficence of  Government.  Hitherto,  they  have  been  most  inconsi- 
derately neglected,  till  a  repetition  of  crime,  under  such  circum- 
stances almost  inevitable,  has  procured  for  them  the  boon  of  a 
second  sentence  followed  by  their  removal.  In  many  cases, 
transportation,  if  held  out  as  a  refuge  to  the  discharged  and  des- 
titute delinquent,  would  be  the  preventive,  instead  of  the  conse- 
quence of  crime,  at  a  manifest  saving  of  expense  to  the  commu- 
jiity,  as  well  as  a  diminution  of  guilt  in  the  individual.  Surely, 
the  interests  of  society  are  better  secured  by  getting  rid  of  those 


468  On  Seoondary  PunUhmenU. 

who,  if  they  remamed  in  thia  country,  would  almott  infidlibly 
commit  crime,  than  by  getting  rid  di  actual  offimders.  But, 
in  proportion  to  the  facility  of  getting  rid  of  culprits,  will  be  the 
supineness  that  prevails  as  to  the  means  of  preventing  or  obviacmg 
the  temptation  to  the  commission  of  crime.  In  this  respect,  as  weu 
as  in  its  effect  upon  criminals  who  regard  it  as  a  desirable  fiite, 
transportation,  in  the  present  system,  has  tended  to  multiply  crime. 

Society  ought  to  be  made  to  feel  the  inconveniences  resulting 
from  the  crime  which  is  the  fruit  of  its  own  n^ect,  or  of  unwitt 
legislation.  That  the  increase  of  delinquency  in  this  country 
is  mainly  owing  to  the  neglect  of  the  means  of  prevention,  will 
not  be  questioned  by  any  persons  who  have  competently  ex- 
amined  the  working  of  our  criminal  system.  And  if  this  be  the 
fiict,  a  facile  mode  of  disposing  of  criminals,  must  serve  only  to 
render  our  legislators  and  magistrates  more  indifferent  to  the  de- 
moralising eilects  of  ignorance  and  pauperism,  of  game-laws  and 
trespass-laws,  of  beer-shops  and  gin-shops,  of  sabbath-breaking, 
of  precipitate  and  unnecessary  commitments,  of  crowded  and  ill 
regulated  gaols,  and  of  those  other  defects  in  our  criminal  institu- 
tions whicn  contribute  to  the  multiplication  of  offences  and  the 
encouragement  of  crime*.  It  is  not  till  the  question  becomes 
embarrassing.  What  shall  we  do  with  our  convicts  ?  that  there  is 
any  chance  of  obtaining  due  attention  to  what  ought  long  ago  to 
have  undergone  more  thorough  inquiry,  What  are  the  best  means 
of  preventing  men  from  becoming  criminals  ? 

One  obvious  means  of  prevention,  too  little  considered  hj  oar 
magistrates,  is,  not  to  treat  a  man  as  a  criminal  before  he  is  proved 
to  be  such,  which  is  the  direct  way  to  make  him  one.  The  ex- 
treme readiness  of  magistrates  to  commit,  instead  of  acceptmg 
bail,  is  not  only  a  very  principal  cause  of  the  increase  in  the 
number  of  commitments^  but,  in  its  ultimate  consequences,  a 
cause  of  the  actual  increase  of  crime.  No  one  comes  out  of  gaol 
as  he  went  in,  as  respects  either  his  character  or  his  position  in 
society.  Now  we  have  already  adverted  to  the  large  jnroportion 
which  the  number  of  persons  discharged  by  grand  juries  or  ac- 
quitted, bears  to  the  total  number  of  commitments.  By  the  gene- 
nil  acceptance  of  bail,  the  number  of  untried  prisoners  might  be 
reduced  at  least  one  half,  without  any  prejudice  to  the  interests  of 
the  community,  and  with  great  advantage  to  the  discipline  of 
prisons.  Few  magistrates  are  disposed  to  accept  of  bail ;  and 
their  anxiety  to  avoid  responsibility,  leads  them  to  fill  the  gaols 
with  petty  offenders  who,  formerly,  would  have  been  discharged 
after  personal  chastisement  Nothing  is  more  easy  than  to  get 
an  offender  conunitted.     The  ultimate  cost  to  the  community  of 


■  ■■  ■»»— — PM^ 


*  See,  on  the  Increase  and  Causes  of  Crime,  Eel.  Rev.  vol.  vii.  %d 
Series,  pp.  313—324. 


071  Secondary  Puniskmepits.  463 

such  commitment,  from  its  certain  effects  upon  the  supposed  cul- 
prit, is  a  consideration  that  seldom  troubles  the  worsnipful  ad- 
ministrators of  our  penal  injustice. 

For  injustice  it  certainly  must  be  deemed,  to  punish  a  man 
who  has  not  been  tried  or  proved  guilty  of  any  offence.  Now 
imprisonment  is  punishment,  if  any  thing  is.  Nor  can  any 
improvement  in  our  system  of  secondary  punishments  take  place, 
till  a  proper  distinction  is  made  between  tne  convict  sentenced  to 
the  forfeiture  of  his  liberty,  and  the  subject  of  an  alleged  but 
unproved  charge.  Imprisonment  may  be  necessary  for  the  safe 
keeping  of  the  presumed  culprit  under  charges  of  a  serious  nature; 
but,  in  that  case,  it  should  wear  as  little  as  possible  the  character 
of  punishment,  and  be  simple  detention.  On  the  other  hand, 
imprisonment,  when  inflicted  in  virtue  of  a  judicial  sentence, 
requires  to  be  rendered  much  more  effective  for  the  purposes  of 
punishment. 

^  There  are  three,  and  only  three  objects,^  remarks  Archbishop 
Whately,  *  with  a  view  to  which  punishments  can  be  inflicted  or 
^  threatened :  1.  Retribution ;  2.  Correction ;  3.  the  Prevention 

*  of  the  offence,  generally,  by  the  terror  of  a  punishment  de- 

*  nounced.^  As  for  the  first  of  these  purposes,  the  infliction  of 
just  vengeance  on  the  guilty,  the  learned  Prelate  contends,  that 
'  it  is  clearly  out  of  marCa  province. 

'  Setting  aside  the  consideration^  that  the  circumstances  on  which 
moral  guilt  depends^  the  inward  motives  of  the  offender^  his  tempta- 
tions^ and  the  opportunities  he  may  have  had  of  learning  his  duty^  can 
never  be  perfectly  known  but  to  the  Searcher  of  hearts^ — setting  aside 
this,  it  does  not  appear  that  man,  even  if  the  degrees  of  moral  turpi- 
tude coold  be  ascertained  by  him,  would  have  a  rieht  to  inflict  on  ois 
fellow-man  any  punishment  whatever,  whether  heavy  or  light,  of 
which  the  ultimate  object  should  be,  the  suffering  of  the  offender. 
Such  a  procedure,  in  indiriduals,  is  distinctly  forbidden  by  the  Founder 
of  our  reiigioii,  as  a  sinful  revenge :  and  it  does  not  appear  how  indi- 
▼iduab  combined  into  a  community  can  impart  to  that  community  any 
right  which  none  of  them  individually  possessed; — can  bestow,  in 
short,  on  themselves  what  is  not  theirs  to  bestow.  Our  Saviour  and 
his  apostles  did  not  mean  to  deprive  even  an  individual  of  the  right  of 
ddPending  (when  there  is  no  other  defence  to  be  had)  his  own  person 
and  property ;  and  this  right  he  is  competent  to  transfer,  and  is  con- 
sidered as  having  transferred,  to  the  community ;  but  they  meant  to 
forbid  the  "rendering  of  evil  for  evil,"  for  its  own  sake:  and  as  no 
man  is  authorized  to  do  this,  or  can  authorize  others  to  exercise  such  a 
right,  even  over  himself,  so  neither  can  ten  men  or  ten  millions  possess 
any  such  rieht  to  inflict  vengeance ;  for  ''  vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the 
Lord."'    Whately,  pp.  59,  60. 

There  ia,  however,  an  important  distinction,  assuredly,  between 
judicial  retribution  and  pnvate  revenge.  According  to  the  ap* 
gument  in  the  above  extncty  murder  being  absolute^  fbrbiddai 


464  On  Secondary  Puniahmenis. 

by  the  law  of  God,  the  magistrate  can  have  no  better  right  than 
an  individual,  to  take  away  the  life  of  a  criminal,  since  *  indiri- 
^  duals  combined  into  a  community,  cannot  impart  to  that  com- 

*  munity  any  right  which  none  of  them  individually  possess.^  The 
same  mode  of  argument  would  prove  every  species  of  punishment 
to  be  at  variance  with  Christianity,  since  individuals  are  enjoined 
to  sufler  wrong  patiently,  and  not  to  resist  evil,  to  give  to  him 
that  asketli,  to  forgive  their  debtors.  Taken  literally,  these 
precepts  would  preclude  the  obtaining  of  civil  compensation,  as 
much  as  they  do  the  principle  of  vindictive  retaliation.  But  the 
fact  is,  they  were  never  intended  by  Our  Lord  as  maxims  of 
government  or  public  justice.  We  arc  forbidden  to  avenge  our- 
selves, or  to  act  in  the  spirit  of  revenge  or  retaliation :  if  our 
enemy  hunger,  we  are  to  feed  him ;  if  he  thirst,  to  give  him  drink. 
Can  public  laws  be  administered  upon  this  principle  ?  If  retribu- 
tion belongs  to  God,  is  it  not  also  said,  that  the  magistrate  is 
*^  the  minister  of  God,  a  revenger  to  execute  wrath  upon  him  that 
^^  doeth  evir^  (Rom.  xiii.  4.);  and  that  he  ^^beareth  not  the 
sword  in  vain  ?^  The  *  infliction  of  just  vengeance  on  the  guilty,' 
is  clearly,  then,  within  the  province  of  the  magistrate ;  aluiough 
it  by  no  means  follows,  that  the  suffering  of  the  o£fender  is  *  the 

*  ultimate  object  of  retribution,  whether  Divine  or  human.  To 
represent  this  as  the  character  of  the  Divine  wrath,  would  be 
impious.  The  principle  and  design  of  judicial  retribution  are 
altogether  incorrectly  descrilicd  by  the  learned  Writer;  and  his 
theory  of  punishment  ])artakcs  of  the  vicious  ethics  of  King  and 
Paley,  which  would  rest  the  eternal  principles  of  justice  upon 
general  expediency.  They  are  doubtless  ever  in  accordance  with 
expediency ;  but,  for  the  laws  which  govern  human  actions,  there 
are  higher  reasons. 

Of  the  other  two  legitimate  objects  of  punishment,  the  learned 
Author  remarks,  *  the  prevention  of  a  repetition  of  the  ofience  by 
^  the  same  individual,  whether  by  his  reform  or  removal,  is  of 

*  incalculably  less  importance  than  the  other, — the  prevention  <rf 

*  crime  generally,  by  the  terror  of  example  or  of  threat^ 

'  If  we  could  ever  so  completely  attain  the  other  objects,  by  some 
expedient  which  would  yet  fail  of>  or  very  inadequately  accomph'sh, 
this  last,  such  a  system  must  be  at  once  pronounced  inefficacioua. 
Could  we  be  sure  of  accomplishing  the  reformation  of  every  convicted 
criminal,  at  the  same  time  making  his  services  available  to  the  public, 
yet,  if  the  method  employed  should  be  such  as  to  deter  no  one  fiom 
committing  the  offence,  society  could  not  exist  under  such  a  system. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  the  punishment  denounced  bad  no  other  tenden^ 
whatever  but  to  deter,  and  could  be  completely  effectual  in  that,  it  is 
plain  that  it  would  entirely  supersede  all  other  expedients,  since  U 
ivoitld  never  even  be  inflicted.  This  truth,  though  self-evident,  is  fre- 
quently overlooked  in  practice,  from  the  necessary  imperfiection  of  all 
our  expedients.     Hardly  any  denunciation  of  punisoment  ever  was 


On  Secondary  Punishments.  465 

thus  completely  effectual ;  and  thence  men  are  often  led  to  look  to  the 
actual  inniction  as  the  object  contemplated.  Whereas  it  is  evident, 
that  every  instance  of  the  infliction  of  a  punishment  is  an  instance^  as 
far  as  it  goes,  of  the  failure  of  the  legislator's  design.  No  axiom  in 
Euclid  can  be  more  evident,  than  that  the  object  of  the  legislator,  in 
enacting  that  murderers  shall  be  hanged  and  pilferers  imprisoned  or 
transported,  is,  not  to  load  the  gallows,  fill  the  gaol,  and  people  New 
Holland,  but  to  prevent  the  commission  of  murder  and  theft ;  and  that 
consequently  every  man  who  is  hanged,  or  transported,  or  confined,  is 
an  instance,  pro  lanto,  of  the  inefiicacy,  t.  e.  want  of  complete  efficacy 
of  the  law.  The  imprisonment  may  reform  the  offender;  deatn 
removes  him  from  the  possibility  of  again  troubling  society ;  and  the 
example  may  in  either  case  operate  to  deter  others  in  future;  but  the 
very  necessity  of  inflicting  the  punishment,  proves  that  the  dread  of 
that  punishment  has,  so  far  at  least,  failed  of  producing  the  desired 
effect.  This  absolute  perfection  indeed — the  entire  prevention  of 
crime — is  a  point  unattainable ;  but  it  is  a  point  to  which  we  may 
approach  indefinitely ;— it  is  the  point  towards  which  our  measures 
must  be  always  tending,  and  we  must  estimate  their  wisdom  by  the 
d^rees  of  their  approach  to  it/     Whately,  pp.  60,  61. 

That  it  forms  no  part  of  the  legitimate  object  of  penal  laws,  to 
promote  the  reformation  of  the  offender,  must,  we  apprehend,  be 
admitted.  The  simple  object  of  penal  sanctions  is  to  deter,  by 
the  influence  of  fear,  from  the  violation  of  the  law;  and  the  design 
of  the  law  is  the  protection  of  society.  *  The  law  worketh  wrath,' 
i.  e.  penal  vengeance ;  and  moral  discipline  or  paternal  chastise- 
ment seems  to  be  wholly  foreign  from  the  stem  operation  of 
criminal  statutes.  It  is  strange,  that  the  learned  Prelate  should 
explain  *  correction,''  as  *  the  prevention  of  a  repetition  of  oiFence 

*  by  the  same  individual,  whether  by  his  reformation  or  his  re- 

*  moval.'  His  removal,  it  is  true,  whether  by  death  or  by  trans- 
portation, is  designed  to  secure  society  against  a  repetition  of  the 
crime  by  the  same  individual ;  but  how  can  this  mode  of  preven- 
tion be  termed  correction  ?  Correction  is  punishment,  which 
may  or  may  not  lead  to  reform ;  but  its  design  is  to  prevent  a 
repetition  of  the  offence,  by  producing  fear  of  a  repetition  of  the 
punishment,  as  well  as  to  strike  terror  into  others  by  the  example 
of  the  culprit.  In  short,  the  three-fold  object  of  punishment 
resolves  itself  into  one;  namely,  to  restrain  from  crime  by  the 
operation  of  the  principle  of  fear.  Human  laws,  in  this  respect, 
strike  in  with  the  general  law  of  the  Divine  Government,  which 
indissolubly  connects  vice  and  suffering,  crime  and  penalty,  in 
the  ultimate  issue.  But,  although  necessary,  this  connexion  is 
not  obvious,  tangible,  or  immediate,  the  consequence  being  remote 
and  indefinite;  whereas  the  efficacy  of  punishment  upon  the 
ignorant  and  sensual,  upon  all  in  whom  the  moral  principle  is  en- 
abled, as  well  as  upon  children  and  animals,  depends  upon  the 
speediness  and  certainty  with  which  it   follows   transgression. 


406  Oh  Secondary  FunMmenis. 

Henoe,  the  fear  inspired  by  penal  laws  is  found  to  operate  upon 
those  who  are  not  restrained  by  religious  fear,  bacanse  in  them 
the  principle  of  faith  is  absent 

The  prevention  of  crime  by  fear  of  suffering  is,  then,  we  should 
say,  the  only  object  of  penal  sanctions.  But  other  means  of  prs« 
▼enting  crime  than  those  contemplated  by  the  criminal  law,  fall 
within  the  province,  and  demand  the  attention  of  an  enlightened 
Government.  A  wise  economy,  not  less  than  the  dictates  of 
philanthropy,  recommends  the  adoption  of  any  plan  that  may 

Gemote  the  reformation  of  the  delinquent,  although  that  moral 
nefit  is  neither  comprehended  in  the  theory  of  punishment,  nor 
is  the  natural  effect  of  suffering.  The  two  objects  may  be  pur- 
sued together,  and  both  may  be  attained  by  a  judicious  system  of 
prison  cUscipline  and  punishment ;  but  they  are  distinct  objects, — 
equally  claiming  the  concern  of  the  rulers  of  a  State,  but  still  as 
distinct  as  education  and  criminal  law.  We  agree,  therefiire, 
with  Dr.  Whately,  that  the  reformation  of  the  convict,  desifabfo 
as  it  is  in  itself,  is,  as  regards  the  penal  laws,  a  secondarf  object,  or 
rather  an  incidental  advantage  not  belonging  to  punishments  as 
such.    We  admit  it  to  be  ^  an  indispensable  object  of  prison  dis- 

*  cipline,^  but  not  of  penal  enactments.  ^  The  design  of  punish- 
^  ment,^  it  is  said,  *  is  not  merely  to  inflict  pain  and  deprivation.^ 
The  infliction  of  suffering  is  allowable  only  as  it  may  *  deter, 

*  correct,  and  reclaim.**  (Report,  note  15.)  But  to  deter  and  to 
reclaim  are  two  very  different  things.  Men  are  deterred  from 
crime  by  fear  of  suffering,  but  they  are  never  reclaimed  by  sufier- 
ing,  nor  is  this  the  use  of  punishment.  To  reclaim  the  vicious, 
whether  criminals  or  not,  is  both  the  interest  and  the  duty  of  a 
Christian  community ;  but  the  law  deals  with  the  vicious,  not 
as  such,  but  simply  as  criminals.  ^  Unjustifiable  as  are  vindictive 
^  penalties,  the  offender  must  be  made  to  feel  that  punishment 
^  attends  the  violation  of  the  law."*  And  others  must  be  made 
sensible  of  this  by  his  example.  Here,  the  end  of  punishment 
and  its  efficacy  terminate.     Yet,  that  ^  the  prevention  of  crime 

*  will  never  be  effected  by  the  influence  of  fear  alone,^  that  is  by 
punishment  alone,  we  are  fully  sensible.  Nay,  we  contend  that 
the  best  mode  of  preventing  crime  does  not  fUl  within  the  pro- 
vince of  penal  legislation,  but  consists  in  the  impartation  of 
religious  instruction,  which  is  the  duty  not  so  much  of  the  ma- 
gistrate as  of  the  minister.  ^  Religious  instruction  forms,  in  fact,^ 
say  the  Committee  of  the  Prison  Discipline  Society,  ^  an  indis- 
^  pensable  branch  of  prison  regulation :  it  is  a  component  part  of 

*  the  system.  Without  such  reformation,  the  object  of  prison 
^  discipline  cannot  be  attained.  Without  religious  impressions, 
^  reformation  is  hopeless.^  (p.  64.)  We  ne^  not  say  how  en- 
tirely we  concur  in  these  sentiments.  Advocates  as  we  have  ever 
been  of  a  reformatory  discipline,  we  cauiot  be  so  far  mismukr- 


On  Secandaty  PunuhmenU*  467 

•lood  08  to  be  suspected  of  underratiiig  its  importance  or  of  doubtii^ 
its  efficacy.  We  wish  only  to  place  in  a  clear  light  the  essential 
distinction  between  the  proper  design  of  punishment,  and  the 
proper  design  of  discipline,  and  their  diverse  operation.  In  the 
punishment  of  the  criminal,  the  benefit  of  society  is  the  immediate 
and  primary  object,  not  the  moral  benefit  of  the  sufferer,  which 
may  be  the  accidental  result.  In  attempting  his  reformation,  the 
good  of  the  individual  is  the  primary  object,  and  the  benefit  of 
society  is  only  contemplated  as  the  remote  consequence.  It  is 
the  interest  of  the  community  that  the  vicious  should  be  reclaimed. 
It  is  still  more  desirable  that  men  should  be  prevented,  by  the 
influence  of  education  and  religious  instruction,  from  becoming 
vicious. 

We  have  been  led  to  insist  upon  this  distinction,  perhaps 
somewhat  tediously,  by  finding  both  in  the  publication  of  toe 
Prison  Discipline  Committee,  and  in  that  of  Archbishop  Whately, 
views  upon  the  subject  of  Punishment  which  we  must  regard  tA 
obscure  and  unsound ;  and  though  the  error  which  pervades  those 
views  is  on  the  side  of  humane  sentiment,  even  amiable  errors 
are  not  always  harmless.     ^  La  veriU  vaut  mieua:  ahaolument^ 

The  whole  system  of  our  secondary  punishments  demands  re- 
vision ;  and  it  is  of  the  highest  importance,  that  that  revision 
should  be  based  upon  sound  principles ;  that  it  should  be  clearly 
understood,  what  punishment  can  do,  and  what  it  cannot  do. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  punishment  might  be  rendered  much 
more  effective  as  a  means  of  deterring  from  crime  by  inspiring 
dread,  even  without  increasing  its  severity,  were  it  more  certain 
and  more  speedy.  The  chances  of  escape  have  far  more  influence 
upon  the  calculations  of  the  delinquent,  than  the  degree  of  suffer^ 
ii^  which  awaits  his  conviction.  Punishment,  however,  must 
inspire  dread,  or  it  is  altogether  deprived  of  its  efficiency.  This 
is  the  case,  to  a  great  extent,  with  capital  punishments,  which 
carry  little  terror  to  the  hardened  and  desperate  offender,  and 
with  transportation.  The  dread  of  hard  labour,  of  seclusion,  and 
of  restraint,  is  adapted  to  operate  still  more  powerfully  upon  a 
Unve  class  of  offenders ;  and  this  species  of  punishment  has  the 
additional  advantage,  that  it  may  be  converted  into  a  powerfoi 
instrument  of  moral  correction,  hy  reforming  the  habits  of  the 
criminal.  The  American  system  of  p^iitentiary  discipline  is 
Btrongly  recommended  to  the  attention  of  the  Legislature  in  the 
publications  before  us. 

'  This  system  combines  all  the  advantages  which  transportation  has 
not ;  it  begins  immediately  after  sentence ;  it  is  painful  in  the  extreme, 
by  enforcing  strict  silence  and  hard  work  by  day^  and  solitude  by 
night ;  it  is  -eoastaat  and  uniform ;  in  cheapness,  it  fax  exceeds  every 
HtSer  iMUMshment  axesipt  dsath;  and  it  affords  the  best  chance  of 
vrformaitiea  whidh  aay  niode  of  redaimiag  depraved  penmu  can  vfiMl, 


4A8  On  Secondary  Punishments. 

inasmach  as  it  connects  labour  and  instruction  with  their  most  agree- 
able associations,  as  silence  is  never  broken  except  by  the  vmce  ^  the 
teacher ;  and  where  conversation  and  amusement  are  forbidden,  labour 
itself  is  a  relief.'    Whately,  p.  165. 

Add  to  which,  this  discipline  admits  of  a  great  variety  of  com- 
bination, and  is  therefore  adapted  to  the  treatment  of  o&nders  of 
different  classes  of  criminality. 

'  The  beneficial  effects  which  the  penitentiary  system,  when  fairl? 
tried,  has  thus  produced,  prove  that  imprisonment  may  be  rendered 
efficacious  for  all  the  just  purposes  of  penal  legislation,  without  resort- 
ing to  extreme  severity.  The  adoption  of  a  similar  discipline  in  this 
country,  under  certain  modifications,  would  prove  a  salutary  substitate 
for  the  penalty  of  Death  ;  and  its  principle  has  long  been  recognised  by 
the  Legislature.  The  19th  Greo.  III.  c  7^*  (^^  Act  drawn  by  Sir 
Wm.  Blackstone  assisted  with  the  adrice  of  Mr.  Howard,)  has  this 
preamble :  "  Whereas  if  many  offenders  convicted  of  crimes  for  which 
transportation  has  been  usually  inflicted,  were  ordered  to  solitary  im- 
prisonment, accompanied  by  well-regulated  labour  and  reh'gious  in- 
struction, it  might  oe  the  means,  under  Providence,  not  only  of  deter- 
ring others  from  the  commission  of  the  like  crimes,  but  also  of  reform- 
ing individuals  and  inuring  them  to  habits  of  industry." '  Report,  p.  43. 

The  whole  subject  will,  we  trust,  before  long  undei^  a  full 
discussion  preparatory  to  introducing  those  economical  reforms 
into  the  existing  system,  which  enlightened  policy  and  humanity 
unite  to  recommend.  We  hope  to  see  the  system  of  penal  trans- 
portation wholly  done  away.  Instead  of  employing  it  as  an  inef- 
ficient engine  of  punishment,  let  it  be  held  out  as  a  relief  and  a 
reward,  and  both  ttie  mother  country  and  our  Australian  colonies 
will  derive  advantage  from  the  change. 

The  preceding  remarks  were  in  the  hands  of  our  Printer,  when 
a  pamphlet  reached  us,  entitled,  ^  Hints  on  the  Necessity  of  a 

*  Change  of  Principle  in  our  Legislation,  for  the  efficient  protec- 

*  tion  of  Society  from  Crime '' :  reprinted  from  the  Edinbiugh 
Law  Journal.  The  ingenious  and  philanthropic  Writer  has 
fallen  into  the  common  error  of  mistaking  one  side  of  a  subject 
for  the  whole  truth.  Because  punishment  is  inefficacious  for  the 
purpose  of  reform,  he  jumps  to  the  conclusion,  that  it  is  useless, 
and  that,  being  inefficacious,  it  is  cruel.  He  asserts,  that  ^  formid- 
^  able  punishment  and  reformation  cannot  be  united ;  ^  and  he 
would  therefore  abolish  entirely  the  penal  character  of  the  treat- 
ment of  criminals,  and  attend  exclusively  to  their  reform.  In  a 
word,  he  would  convert  all  prisons  into  asylums.  The  following 
remarks  are  intended  to  serve  as  the  phDosophical  basis  of  the 
Writer'^s  argument. 

'  The  material  to  be  worked  upon  is  the  will  op  man.  In  rela- 
tion to  the  impulses  and  tendencies  of  this  will,  minute  and  attentive 
observation  has  shewn^  and  the  parables  of  the  Talents  and  the  Sower 


Oi*  Secondary  Punishments.  469 

illustrate  the  observation,  that  human  beings  present  three  classes. 
First,  those  whose  animal  appetites  or  propensities  are  so  powerful  as 
to  overbalance  the  restraining  force  of  their  moral  and  intellectual 
faculties^  and,  like  thorns,  choke  any  good  seed  sown  in  them.  Beings 
of  this  constitution  of  mind  are  under  the  dominion  of  strong  lusts^ 
violent  passions,  and  intense  selfishness.  Their  impressions  of  moral 
duty  are  so  weak  as  to  offer  no  restraint  to  the  gratification  of  their 
selfishness,  at  any  cost  of  property,  limb,  or  life,  to  those,  no  matter 
how  unoffending,  who  stand  in  their  way ;  while  in  most  of  them  a 
limited  intellect  has  obscure  views  of  the  real  nature  of  things,  con- 
fused perceptions  of  consequences,  overweening  confidence  in  their  own 
power  of  concealment,  evasion,  and  escape,  total  blindness  to  the  guilt 
of  their  actions,  a  fixed  rejection  in  their  own  case  of  all  idea  of  retri- 
bution,— on  the  contrary,  a  persuasion  that  all  restraint  imposed  on 
themselves  is  the  unwarrantable  act  of  the  strongest ;  and,  finally,  the 
feeblest  powers  of  controlling  their  passions,  even  when  they  do  see 
the  fiatal  consequences  of  yielding  to  their  sway.  Any  better  endow- 
ment of  intellect  in  this  class  is  always  perverted  to  the  purposes  of 
crime ;  hence  expert  plan-laying  thieves,  pickpockets,  swindlers^  and 
forgers. 

<  The  second  class  of  mankind  are  very  numerous ;  those  whose 
animalism  is  nearly  as  strong  as  in  the  first  class,  but  whose  moral  and 
intellectual  powers  of  restraint  are  so  much  greater,  as  to  bring  the 
tendencies  to  indulgence  and  forbearance  almost  to  a  balance.  Ex- 
ternal circumstances  in  such  persons  turn  the  scale.  In  low  life,  un- 
educated, neglected,  and  destitute,  they  have  often  become  criminals ; 
in  a  more  fevourable  condition  of  education  and  society,  they  have  con- 
tinued respectable ;  but,  within  the  influence  of  bad  example,  they  will 
be  found  sensual  and  often  profligate,  and  they  are  always  selfish  and 
aelf-indulging.  In  them  is  the  scriptural  want  of  earth  to  preserve 
the  plant  which  springs  up,  from  the  withering  action  of  the  sun. 

*  The  third  class  are  the  good  ground,  that  produces  in  different 
degrees^  but  all  plentifully.  They  are  those  who,  the  Apostle  says, 
are  "  a  law  unto  themselves."  In  them  the  animal  propensities  are 
sufficient  for  their  legitimate  ends ;  but  the  decided  predominance  of 
intellect  and  moral  feeling,  as  faculties  of  their  minds,  renders  it  nearly 
a  moral  impossibility,  that  the  inferior  tendencies  should  ever  master 
them  so  far  as  to  impel  them  to  commit  a  crime.  It  is  physically 
possible  for  such  men  to  rob,  or  steal,  or  torture,  or  murder,  but  it  is 
morally  impossible ;  and  they  would  attempt  any  physical  difficulty  in 
preference.  They  enjoy  strong  moral  and  intellectual  perceptions. 
Their  passions,  sometimes  vigorous,  are  reined  by  their  higher  feelings ; 
they  feel  the  law  written  in  their  hearts  with  the  same  Finger  that 
graved  it  on  tables  of  stone ;  instead  of  all  their  inspirations  and  aims 
being  selfish,  they  have  time,  and  thought,  and  exertion,  and  money^ 
to  spare  for  their  fellow  creatures ;  and  are  made  happy  by  the  ex- 
tension of  the  virtuous  enjoyment  of  life  throughout  the  world.  They 
cannot  exist  in  a  grovelling  atmosphere,  and  tend  upwards  into  a  purer 
moral  medium,  when  by  circumstances  depressed  into  vicious  contact. 
These,  lastly,  are  the  men  who  are  sincerely,  conscientiously,  ration- 
ally, and  practically  religious,  and  whose  morality  is  based  in  the 

VOL.   IX. — N.S.  3  M 


470  On  Secondary  Punishments. 

Divine  will  and  the  precepts  of  Christianitr.     It  is  manifestly  the 
Creator's  design^  that  such  men,  from  inteilectoal  as  well  as  moral 
power,  shall  rise  to  the  guidance  of  society ;  and  liberty,  and  light,  and 
national  happiness,  are  in  the  direct  ratio  of  their  ascendancy.     An 
enlightened  and  effective  criminal  code  will  emanate  from  them  alone. 
'  One  grand  error  in  criminal  legislation  has  been,  that  the  threefold 
distinction  now  drawn  has  never  been  taken  into  account  as  true  in 
nature.     There  is  no  practical  belief  that  it  exists.     We  do  not  find 
it  adverted  to  in  any  of  the  thousand  and  one  treatises  already  written, 
and  by  the  most  talented  of  men,  on  criminal  legislation.     Yet  wc 
venture  to  predict  that,  till  it  shall  be  acted  upon  as  a  practical  truth, 
speculation  after  speculation,  code  after  code,  and  institution  after  in- 
stitution, for  the  protection  of  society  from  crime,  will  &11  to  the  eround. 
The  prevalent  practical  belief  of  the  million,  and  of  the  law-midcers  in 
whom  they  confide,  is,  that  in  power  to  obey  the  laws  there  is  among 
men  no  difference  of  mental  constitution ;  that  a  good  man  has  wilUd  to 
be  virtuous,  and  a  bad  man  has  willed  to  be  vicious,  and  that  either  might 
have  willed  equally  easily  the  opposite  character ; — that  it  was  a  mere 
voluntary  choice  that,  on  the  one  hand,  filled  the  prisons  with  wretches 
whom  a  Howard  visited,  and  that  determined  Howard,  on  the  other,  to 
visit  them.    Hence  the  indignation  and  resentment  felt  against  the  cri- 
minal, and  the  tendency  to  visit  upon  him  the  retribution  considered  due 
to  a  deliberate  choiceof  the  wrong,inspite  of  a  clear  perception  and  feeling 
of  the  right.     Now,  the  truth  will  challenge  the  strictest  investigation, 
that  the  great  majority  of  criminals  in  this  country  have  minds  so  con- 
stituted, and  that  independently  of  their  own  volition,  as  to  rank  them 
in  the  Jirsi  class  above  described.     They  are  born  with  a  greatly  pre- 
ponderating animalism,  which  grows  with  their  growth,  and  strengthens 
with  their  strength.     Belonging  to  the  lower,  and  often  tiie  lowest, 
ranks  of  life,  having  neither  morel  nor  religious  training  and  exercise, 
little  or  no  intellectual  education,  no  habit  or  practice  of  indastry,  frn- 
gality,  sobriety,  or  self-denial ;  strangen  to  au  encouragement  mun  a 
higher  moral  society  to  value  character ;  on  the  contrary,  familiar  from 
infancy  with  the  example  of  debauchery>  profligacjr,  and  reckleMness, 
and  crime  in  their  very  parents  and  relations,  trained  often  to  early 
mendicity,  and  always  to  thieving,  habituated  to  hear  debaachery  and 
successful  villany  lauded  in  the  society  with  which  they  mix,  and 
morality  and  justice  i  idiculed  or  defied,  they  may  be  said  to  be  indeed 
born  in  iniquity,  and  bred  in  crime.     Such  are  the  beings  whose  acts 
create  resentment  and  retributive  revenge  in  the  minds  of  the  unre- 
flecting, the  untemptcd,  and,  in  regard  to  a  sound  philosophy  of  man, 
the  uninformed. 

'  Now,  minds  so  constituted  ought  not  to  be  judged  of  in  the  same 
manner  as  those  of  a  more  moral  and  intellectuu  constitution.  Justice 
demands  a  large  allowance  for  their  unfortunate  constitution  and  not 
less  unhappy  circumstances ;  and,  above  all,  observing  that  punish- 
ment, however  severe,  docs  not  operate  upon  them  as  example,  it 
would  consider  whether  there  are  not  means,  at  once  more  just  and 
more  effoctual,  of  protecting  society  from  the  acts  of  these  its  dangerous 
and  reckless  members.' 

That  punishment  has  no  exemplary  force,  even  upon  num- 


On  Secondary  Punishments.  4fJ\ 

bers  of  this  first  class,  is  an  assumption  by  no  means  warranted ; 
and  if  it  were  true,  its  operation  upon  the  second  class  would 
justify  its  infliction  upon  individuals  who  might  be  referred  to  the 
first.  The  classification,  however,  it  must  be  recollected,  is 
purely  theoretical.      The  Writer  contends,  indeed,  that  those 

*  decidedly  predisposed  to  crime  ^  are  much  more  of  a  class  than 
is  supposed ;  that  they  are  ^  a  class  nearly  all  of  whom,  at  least  in 

*  the  lower  ranks,  come  in  contact  with  the  law ;  ^  and  that  ^  a 

*  proper  penitentiary  system  is  nearly  certain  of  getting  them  all 

*  into  its  hands.'^  Were  this  the  fact,  it  would  surely  be  prac- 
ticable to  deal  with  them  before  they  came  in  contact  with  the 
law,  by  a  preventive  benevolence.  Of  this  policy,  it  is  but  justice 
to  the  Writer  to  say,  that  he  is  the  zealous  advocate ;  and  he 
confidently  relies  upon  Infant  schools,  conducted  upon  a  religious 
basis,  as  tne  most  rational  and  the  only  effectual  preventive  of 
crime.  Next  to  Infant  Schools,  in  efliciency,  he  seems  to  rank 
Prison  Education. 

*  When,  by  an  enlightened  age>  penitentiaries  shall  be  held  to  be 
hospitals  for  moral  patients,  and  not  engines  to  protect  society,  by 
holding  out  the  spectacle  of  the  sufferings  of  perfectly  free  agents, 
either  paying  back  that  loss  which  their  actions  have  occasioned,  or 
deterring  others  from  crimes  by  their  example,  the  duration  of  the 
convict's  detention  will  depend,  not  upon  the  mere  act  which  brought 
him  there,  but  upon  the  continuance  of  his  disease.  As  long  as  peni« 
tentiary  discipline  shall  consist  of  severe  and  degrading  compulsory 
labour,  of  stripes,  irons,  insults,  and  brutality,  without  an  attempt  at 
improvement  mental  or  moral,  beyond  being  herded  into  a  chapel  on 
Sunday  for  an  hour  or  two, — and  this  constituted  the  old  idea  of  a 
house  of  correction, — a  prescribed  and  short  duration  of  such  irrational 
usage  is  imperative.  Na^r,  it  was  and  is  the  prominent  problem  of 
criminal  legislation,  to  proportion  punishments  to  crimes, — to  weigh 
out,  to  an  odd  scruple,  the  quantum  of  suffering  which  shall  counter- 
poise the  quantum  of  guilt  in  the  act  committed ;  and  certainly  it 
would  be  monstrous  to  detain  the  convict,  on  such  a  principle,  one 
moment  longer  in  the  place  of  mere  suffering,  than  the  exact  time 
necessary  to  permit  society  to  take  out,  in  his  groans,  the  supposed 
debt  ex  delicto  contracted  by  him.  But  no  one  is  ever  sent  to  an  hos- 
pital for  a  previously  prescribed  period.  Sixty  days  of  the  infirmary, 
or  the  madhouse,  as  a  medical  prescription,  would  b«  justly  ridiculed, 
in  and  out  of  the  faculty  ;  and  so  it  will  come  to  be,  when  moral  in- 
firmaries, applying  rational  and  effectual  means  of  cure  to  those  afilictcd 
with  that  worst  of  diseases  called  a  proclivity  to  crime,  and  being 
withal  mild,  benevolent,  and  encouraging  to  the  patient,  are  substituted 
for  the  present  irrational  treatment.  The  unhappy  criminal  will  then 
be  regarded  more  in  relation  to  his  moral  constitution  than  his  conduct ; 
or,  if  the  latter  be  estimated,  it  will  be  in  the  way  of  evidence  of  the 
former.  His  sentence  for  an  overt  act  of  crime  will  be  the  restraint  of 
the  penitentiary,  till  an  authority^  beyond  all  question  as  to  intelli- 
gence, and  all  suspicion  as  to  uprightness  and  benevolence,  shall  deem 

3  M  2 


472  On  Secondary  Punuihmenis. 

it  safe  to  venture  him  once  more  in  society.  It  is  evident  that,  for 
such  a  process,  the  shortest  time  must  be  long.  Ordinary  education  is 
the  work  of  years  ;  and  a  fortiori  must  moral  training  be,  when  working 
against  tlie  wind  and  tide  and  current  of  criminal  propensity.  Nay, 
as  in  lunatic  asylums  there  may  be  cases  of  very  long  duration,  there 
may  be  cases  for  life  in  our  asylum,  cases  of  relapse  after  dismissal, 
ana  return  to  necessary  restraint  on  fresh  conviction.  These  last  ought 
to  be  held  cases  for  life.  If  any  one  shall  object,  that  this  is  any  thing 
but  mild  treatment  of  criminals,  and  that  there  is  more  justice  in  in- 
flicting a  month's  confinement  for  a  first  and  slight  offence,  and  then 
giving  the  criminal  another  chance  for  a  good  life ;  we  would  answer, 
that  the  latter  course  is  but  the  first  step  of  a  series  of  penal  inflictions, 
alternating  with  intervals  of  the  most  wretched  sensualities  and  pro- 
fligacies called  freedom,  which  necessarily  bring  the  sufferer  bacK  to 
punishment— and  that,  on  the  proportion  principle,  more  severe  than 
the  first — to  be  again  dismissed  to  greater  misery  than  he  leaves^  and 
more  resolved  upon,  and  better  fitted  for,  crime.  He  returns  a  third 
time,  of  course,  to  your  bridewell,  to  be  visited  with  yet  increased  in- 
fliction, till  at  last  the  account  of  proportion  has  so  much  accumulated 
to  his  debit,  that  a  violent  and  ignommious  death  alone  is  held  ade- 
quate expiation.  What  is  the  restraint  of  a  few — of  a  number  of 
years— of  a  lifetime — in  a  well  constituted  reformatory  asylum,  com- 
pared to  the  cruelty,  the  injustice,  the  irrationality  of  this  ? ' 

*  Would  you  send  a  boy  for  years  to  your  Penitentiary,  who  for 
^  the  first  time  steals  a  shilling  ?  ^     To  this  ^  natural  question 

*  under  the  old  impressions/  the  Writer  replies :  *  The  theft  of 
^  the  shilling  is  the  symptom  of  a  moral  disease  which  requires 
^  the  boy'^s  being  put  under  treatment ;  and  it  is  mercy  to  him  to 
'seclude   him,   and  subject  him  to  the  education  and  training 

*  which  his  unfortunate  case  requires-'  We  agree  with  the  Wri- 
ter, that  such  a  young  offender  is  a  subject  for  reformatory  treat- 
ment, rather  than  for  punishment;  therefore,  we  would  not 
have  him  sent  to  either  prison  or  penitentiary,  but  rescued  by 
benevolent  interposition  from  the  hand  of  criminal  justice.  But 
justice  is  altogether  excluded  from  the  Writer's  theory. 

'  We  should  have  no  right,'  he  says,  *  on  the  principle  of  either  re- 
tribution or  example,  to  go  beyond  a  nice  apportionment  of  the  penalty 
to  the  act ;  but,  when  the  object  in  view  is  the  moral  cure  of  the  indi- 
vidual himself,  there  is  no  variance  between  moral  feeling  and  expedi- 
ency, even  although  that  cure  should  require  a  long  seclusion.  We 
never  think  the  longest  confinement  to  a  sick  bed  unjust  or  dispro- 
portionate.' p.  28. 

What  does  this  prove,  but  that  the  moral  cure  of  the  indi- 
vidual is  not  that  which  justice  contemplates,  or  which  is  the  ob- 
ject of  penal  enactments  ?  According  to  the  theory,  however, 
the  very  principle  of  justice  is  to  be  banished  from  legislation,  and 
the  judicial  bench  ought  to  be  converted  into  a  college  of  physi- 
cians.    The  moral  desert  of  crime  is  thus  virtually  denied ;  and 


Lewis  on  the  Use  of  Political  Terms,  473 

the  demerit  of  the  criminal  is  entirely  resolved  into  misfortune. 
It  is  but  a  step  further,  if  a  step,  to  arraign  the  right  of  even  the 
Supreme  Governor  to  punish,  and  to  explode  the  idea  of  a  day 
of  Retribution. 


Art.  II.  Remarks  on  the  Use  and  Abuse  of'  some  Political  Terms.  By 
George  Cornewall  Lewis,  Esq.,  Student  of  Christ  Church,  Oxfora. 
8vo.  pp.  xxxii.  264.  •  Price  9f.     London,  1832. 

^''O  such  of  our  readers  as  are  anxious  to  cultivate  the  Art  of 
Thinking,  and  to  understand  either  the  opinions  they  hold 
or  those  they  disavow,  we  strongly  recommend  the  present  work, 
with  the  confidence  of  obtaining  their  thanks  for  bringing  it  under 
their  notice.  And  such  readers  we  may  invite  to  a  perusal  of  the 
subsequent  remarks ; — for  we  cannot  venture  to  promise  to  others 
a  very  entertaining  article. 

*  There  is,  perhaps,'  remarks  Mr.  Lewis,  *  no  moral  or  political 

*  treatise  of  any  length,  certainly  no  considerable  argumentative 

*  work,  of  which  the  conclusions  are  not  in  some  degree  affected 

*  by  an  incautious  employment,  or  an  unperceived  ambiguity  of 

*  language.**  To  so  great  an  extent  does  this  source  of  fallacious 
reasoning  mingle  itself  with  the  decisions  and  arguments  of  our 
highest  authorities,  that  Locke  goes  so  far  as  to  express  a  doubt, 
*'  whether  language,   as  it  has  been  employed,  has  contributed 

*  more  to  the  improvement  or  to  the  hinderance  of  knowledge.' 
This  opinion,  it  is  impossible  to  regard  as  any  thing  more  than 
anhyperbole;  since  language,  whatever  be  its  ambiguities,  is  the  only 
means  of  knowledge,  as  well  as  ^  the  instrument  by  which  we 

*  think  and  reason.'  But  the  instances  cited  by  the  present  Wri- 
ter, of  the  liability  of  even  the  most  acute  reasoners  to  impose 
upon  themselves  and  mislead  their  readers  by  verbal  fallacies, 
will  surprise  those  persons  who  have  not  considered  the  powerful 
influence  of  equivocal  language  in  deceiving  the  mind.  The 
speculative  parts  of  Blackstone's  Commentaries,  the  most  elegant 
production,  perhaps,  in  our  legal  literature,  Mr.  Lewis  charac- 
terises as  '  an  epitome  of  popular  fallacies  and  misconceptions  on 

*  most  of  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  jurisprudence  and  govem- 
'  ment.'  Paley,  the  most  lucid  of  writers,  occasionally  falls  into 
similar  error.  We  undertook,  in  our  last  volume,  to  shew  that 
Hooker's  whole  fabric  of  argument  is  built  upon  a  fallacy  of  this 
description.*  In  noticing  the  recent  disputes  about  the  consti- 
tution, it  was  also  shewn  that  the  whole  q^uestion  hinged  upon  the 
ambiguity  of  the  term.-f-  In  metaphysical  theology,  the  same 
cause  has  given  rise  to  tedious  and  angry  logomachy. 


•  Ecleotic  for  October,  1832,  p.  285.  t  Eclectic  for  June,  1832,  p.  47L 


474  Lewis  on  the  Use  of  Political  Terms. 

The  remedy  usually  proposed  by  logidans  and  philosophers 
for  this  acknowledged  source  of  misapprehension,  is  techni- 
cal definition.  When  writers  have  precisely  defined  their  terms, 
they  imagine  that  they  have  secured  themselves  against  aU  dan- 
ger of  using  them  rallaciously.  Metaphysicians  have  pleased 
themselves  with  the  idea  of  thus  reducing  their  terms  to  the  sim- 
plicity and  unchangeable  force  of  algebraic  signs.  Definitions, 
nowever,  are  generally  little  better  than  assumptions,  implying  a 
meaning  that  requires  both  to  be  explained  and  to  be  proved. 
Besides,  as  Arcnbishop  Whately  remarks,  *  it  is  not  the  same 
^  thing  to  be  acquainted  with  the  ambiguity  of  a  term,  and  to  be 
^  practically  aware  of  it,  and  watchful  of  the  consequences  con- 

*  nected  with  it.^  After  giving  the  most  precise  definition  of  a 
word,  a  writer  may  be  found  unconsciously  passing  from  his  own 
defined  signification  of  the  term  to  another,  and  drawing  an  in- 
ference from  his  own  blunder.  It  is  not  enough  to  understand 
the  meaning  of  terms,  whether  conventionally  agreed  upon  or 
arbitrarily  defined :  unless  we  are  careful  to  understand  our  own 
meaning  at  the  moment  of  using  them,  in  the  precise  ccmnexion 
in  which  they  occur,  they  will  often  be  found  to  slip  their  mean- 
ing, and  cheat  us  with  a  verbal  faUacy.  *  It  is  impossible,^  Mr. 
Lewis  justly  remarks,  'to  legislate  in  matters  of  language:  the 

*  evils  arising  from  its  imperfection  may  be  eluded,  but  can  never 
'  be  removed.^  The  best  way  to  obviate  the  ambigui^  arising 
from  the  variable  meaning  of  words,  is,  not  to  attempt  to  stereo- 
type the  forms  of  thought,  but  to  keep  always  in  recollection  the 
essential  imperfection  of  language  as  the  instrument  of  thought, 
so  as  to  rely  less  upon  the  intrinsic  power  of  words,  than  upon  the 
manner  of  using  them. 

An  inquiry  into  the  meaning  of  terms  is,  however,  veiy  dif- 
ferent from  an  endeavour  to  define  them,  and  far  more  usefiiL 
The  one  is  an  attempt  to  ascertain  a  fiict ;  the  other,  to  lay  down 
a  rule,  or  to  frame  an  hypothesis.  What  words  really  mean,  can 
be  determined  only  by  their  actual  use:  they  mean  what  the 
person  employing  them  intends  by  them,  and  the  meaning  lies, 
not  in  the  words,  but  in  the  intention.  Mr.  Lewis'^s  object  in 
this  volume  is,  to  illustrate  the  various  uses  of  the  principal  terms 
belonging  to  political  science.  His  inquiry  aspires  to  occupy  '  a 
'middle  place  between   a  technical  dictionary  and  a  scientific 

*  treatise.'* 

'  Even  if  the  definitions  which  I  have  either  borrowed  or  suggested 
should  be  thought  incorrect',  he  remarks,  '  yet  the  investigation  of  the 
various  senses  of  each  word  as  occurring  in  popular  language,  must,  if 
properly  employed,  furnish  to  others  the  means  of  detecting  fallacy  in 

political  discussion The  following  researches  relate,  not  to  the 

truth  of  any  particular  propositions,  but  to  the  meaning  of  certain 
terms  used  in  political  reasoning:  which,  being  often  employed  in 


Lewis  on  the  Use  of  Political  Terms.  476 

different  senses  in  the  premises  and  conclusion,  have  given  rise  to 
countless  inconclusive  arguments,  and  have  thus  caused  fallacies  of 
argument,  in  the  proper  meaning  of  the  word.     The  soundness  of  an 
inference  cannot  depend  on  the  truth  of  a  proposition^  though  it  may 
depend  on  the  use  of  a  term.*     pp.  v — vii. 

In  fact,  unsound  inferences  very  generally  turn  upon  the  double 
sense  of  a  word.  A  palpable  example  of  this  occurs  in  a  sen- 
tence cited  from  the  Edinburgh  Review,  in  which  the  word  ^  right' 
is  used  in  two  different  senses,  and  the  argument  entirely  hinges 
upon  the  double  sense. 

"' "  If  it  be  right  that  the  property  of  men  should  be  protected,  and 
if  this  can  only  be  done  by  means  of  Government,  then  it  must  be 
rieht  that  some  person  or  persons  should  possess  political  power. 
That  is  to  say,  some  person  or  persons  must  have  a  right  to  political 
power." '     p.  14. 

The  apparent  force  of  this  argument,  Mr.  Lewis  remarks,  rests 
on  a  mere  verbal  fallacy.  Right  and  wrong  are  terms  relating  to 
a  standard  of  morality.  It  is  right,  in  the  sense  otjusty  that  the 
property  of  men  should  be  protected ;  and  it  is  right,  in  the  sense 
o{  Jit  and  expedient ^  that  some  person  or  persons  should  be  in- 
vested with  the  powers  of  government  for  the  purpose  of  aiFording 
this  protection.  But  the  right,  that  is  the  lawful  claim,  of  any 
persons  to  exercise  political  power,  cannot  be  deduced  from  the 
abstract  rectitude  of  the  principle,  that  property  should  be  so 
protected.  Had  it  been  said,  merely,  that  some  person  or  per- 
sons must  have  political  power,  the  inference  would  have  been 
correct,  though  not  very  weighty.  If  it  be  right  that  property 
should  be  protected,  some  persons  must  have  political  power  for 
that  purpose ;  but  unless  to  possess  power,  and  to  have  a  right  to 
possess  power,  are  the  same  thing,  such  power  may  happen 
to  be  in  the  hands  of  those  who  have  no  right  to  it,  and  it  may 
consequently  be  very  wrong  that  they  should  possess  it.  Or, 
again,  they  may  have  even  a  right  derived  from  law,  which, 
the  law  being  itself  unjust,  it  is  morally  wrong  that  they  should 
have.  Blackstone'^s  definition  of  municipal  law,  betrays  a  similar 
confusion  of  ideas.     According  to  him,  Law  is  ^  a  rule  of  civil 

*  conduct  prescribed  by  the  supreme  power  in  a  State,  command- 

*  ing  what  is  right,  and  prohibiting  what  is  wrong.'  Were  this 
the  fact,  there  could  be  no  bad  laws ;  or,  that  which  commands 
what  is  contrary  to  moral  rectitude,  would  cease  to  be  law.  But 
it  is  evident  from  the  argument  by  which  this  incorrect  definition 
is  supported,  that  the  learned  Writer  confounded  legal  rights  with 
the  morality  of  actions.     *  It  is  the  business  of  the  law  \  he  says, 

*  considered  as  a  rule  of  civil  conduct,  to  enforce  (such)  rights, 
^  and  to  restrain  or  redress  wrongs.'  But  how  can  the  law  be  said 
to  command  rights,  and  to  prohibit  wrongs  ?  Law  creates  rights, 
and  determines  them  ;  it  also  defines  and  punishes  wrongs ;  but 


476  Lewis  on  the  Use  of  PoUHcal 

it  may  command  what  is  wrong,  and  prohibit  what  is  right; 
which  is  the  case  with  all  laws  that  violate  liberty  of  consdcnce, 
by  commanding  a  hypocritical  conformity  to  outward  rites  of 
religion,  and  prohibiting  the  free  performance  of  religious  duties. 

Dismissing  from  consideration  the  terms  right  and  wrong,  as 
denoting  the  moral  qualities  of  actions,  let  us  examine  the  sub- 
stantive rights  which  is  itself  used  with  a  latitude  that  becomes  a 
source  of  ambiguity.  The  following  is  Mr.  Lewis'^s  definition  of 
the  term. 

'  ^Vhen  the  sovereign  power  commands  its  subject  to  do  or  forbear 
from  certuin  acts^  the  claim  for  such  performances  or  forbearances 
which  one  person  thereby  has  upon  another,  is  calleJ  a  right ;  the 
liability  to  such  performances  or  forbearances,  is  called  a  duty ;  and  the 
omission  of  an  act  commanded  to  be  done,  or  the  doing  of  an  act  com- 
manded to  be  forborne,  is  called  a  wrong. 

'  All  rights,  therefore,  must  be  subsequent  to  the  establishment  of 
government,  and  are  the  creatures  of  the  sovereign  power ;  no  claim 
upon  another,  which  may  not  be  enforced  by  process  of  law,  i.  e.  by 
calling  in  the  assistance  of  the  sovereign,  however  recommended  by 
moral  justice,  can,  without  an  abuse  of  language,  be  termed  a  right. 
The  existence  of  a  moral  claim  may  often  be  a  matter  of  doubt  when 
the  facts  are  ascertained,  and  one  party  may  demand  what  the  other 
may  not  think  himself  bound  in  conscience  to  yield ;  but,  the  facts 
being  given,  the  existence  of  a  right,  or  a  legal  claim,  can  never  admit 
of  dispute,  as  it  is  defined  and  conferred  by  a  third  party,  who  will,  if 
required,  step  in  to  enforce  it. 

'  Properly,  therefore,  right  signifies  a  claim  conferred  or  sanctioned 
by  the  sovereign  power,  i.  e.  a  legal  right.  Sometimes,  however,  it  is 
used  to  mean  a  claim  recommended  by  the  practice,  analogy,  or 
doctrines  of  the  constitution,  i.  e.  a  constitutional  right ;  and,  some- 
times, a  claim  recommended  by  views  of  justice  or  public  policy,  i.  e.  a 
moral  rieht. 

'  By  tne  first  and  proper  sense,  is  meant  a  claim  which  may  be 
enforced  in  a  court  of  law,  or  by  the  proper  authorities,  and  wnicb 
actually  exists :  by  the  two  last,  a  claim  which  cannot  be  enfbroed  by 
any  public  authonty,  and  which  does  not  exist.  Thus,  in  the  first 
sense,  it  is  said  that  a  man  has  a  right  to  his  own  property,  reputation, 
Sec,  meaning  that  he  has  an  available  claim  which  can  be  enforced  by 
process  of  law.  It  is  also  said  tlmt,  constitutionally,  every  British 
subject  who  pays  taxes,  has  a  right  to  vote  for  a  member  of  the  House 
of  Commons ;  meaning  that  such  a  claim  is  supported  by  the  practice 
or  doctrines  of  our  constitution.  It  is  also  said,  that  all  the  people  have 
a  right  to  be  represented ;  that  they  have  a  right  to  choose  their  own 
governors,  to  cashier  their  governors  for  misconduct,  and  to  frame  a 
government  for  themselves ;  that  the  poor  have  a  right  to  be  maintained 
by  the  rich ;  that  the  poor  have  a  right  to  spoil  the  land-owners,  and 
divide  their  lands ;  that  the  poor  have  a  right  to  spoil  the  rich,  and 
divide  their  property.  Sec,  In  the  latter  cases,  the  persons  who  use 
these  expressions  mean  that,  in  their  opinion,  there  is  a  claim  founded 
in  justice  and  expediency,  which  they  call  n  right ;  though,  in  truth. 


Lewis  on  the  Use  of  PoHtical  Terms,  477 

what  they  mean  to  express  is,  that  it  ought,  by  the  sanction  of  the 
l^slature,  to  be  made  a  right.'  pp.  7 — ^' 

'  We  hear  of  original  rights,  natural  rights,  indefeasible  rights, 
inalienable  rights,  imprescriptible  rights,  hereditary  rights,  inde- 
structible rights,  inherent  rights,  &c.,  where  there  is  no  pretence  of 
legislati\re  sanction :  indeed,  the  only  object  of  using  these  names  is  to 
induce  the  l^slature  to  convert  these  supposed  rights  into  real  rights, 
by  giving  them  the  sanction  of  law.  The  phrase,  natural  right,  takes 
its  origin  from  the  doctrine  of  a  state  of  nature,  which  will  be  more 
fiilly  explained  below.  It  appears  to  signify  a  claim  recommended  by 
natural  law,  or  by  those  rules  which  were  recognised  by  common  con- 
sent, when  mankind  were  in  a  state  of  nature.  An  indefeasible  right 
is  a  right  which  man  enjoyed  in  a  state  of  nature,  and  which  he  only 
surrendered  conditionally  at  the  making  of  the  social  compact ;  so  that 
nothing  has  since  been  able  to  defeat  or  destroy  it,  and  it  is  ready  to 
be  revived  at  any  time.  An  imprescriptible  right  is  a  right  which  was 
prior  to  the  social  compact,  and  which  continues  to  exist  without  being 
subject  to  prescription  or  feilure  by  lapse  of  time.  An  inalienable  right 
is  a  right  which  cannot  be  ah'enated  from  a  man.  Indestructible  rights, 
inherent  rights,  hereditary  rights,  birthrights  of  liberty,  &c.,  appear  to 
have  nearly  the  same  meaning :  viz.  that  they  are  dormant  rights, 
never  exercised  by  the  possessors,  and  not  extinguishable  by  any  law. 
In  fact,  however,  these  imprescriptible,  inalienable,  indefeasible  rights, 
in  most  cases  never  have  been  rights,  or,  if  they  have,  long  since  were 
alienated  and  defeated  by  the  sovereign  power.  These  various  expres- 
sions have  all  taken  their  origin  from  the  theory  of  the  state  of  nature 
and  the  social  compact ;  but  they  are  frequently  used  by  persons  who 
have  never  heard  of  this  absurd  and  mischievous  doctrine,  and  would 
perhaps  reject  it  if  they  knew  it.  All  that  those  persons  mean  is,  that, 
in  their  opinion,  the  claims  which  they  call  rights  ought,  in  sound 
policy,  to  be  sanctioned  by  law.  It  is  the  duty  of  such  persons  to 
shew  that  sound  policy  requires  what  they  require ;  but  as  this  would 
require  a  process  of  reasoning,  and  as  reasoning  is  often  both  hard  to 
invent  and  to  understand,  they  prefer  begging  the  question  at  issue  by 
employingsomeofthe  high-sounding  phrases  just  mentioned.*  pp.23 — 24. 

In  a  subsequent  section,  civil  liberty  is  defined  as  signifying, 
in  its  positive  sense,   '  those  rights,  the  enjoyment  of  which  is 

*  beneficial  to  the  possessor  of  them  \  or  '  the  possession  of  certain 

*  rights  by  one  part  over  another  part  of  the  community.'     *  ii- 

*  hertiea^  in  the  plural  number,  when  employed  with  a  political 

*  reference,  is  always  equivalent  with  rights."  Liberty  is  also  used 
to  denote  immunity  from  burdensome  duties,  or  exemption  from 
hurtful  restraints.  In  a  note,  the  unsatisfactory  character  of 
Blackstone's  definition  is  pointed  out. 

'  Blackstone  divides  rights  into  absolute  and  negative ;  and  absolute 
rights  he  defines  to  be  "  such  as  would  belong  to  persons  merely  in  a 
state  of  nature,  and  which  every  man  is  entitled  to  enjoy,  whether  out 
of  society  or  in  it." — 1  Com.  123.  He  then  says,  that  "the  absolute 
rights  of  man  are  usually  summed  in  one  general  appellation,  and  de- 

VOL.  IX. — N.S.  3  N 


• 


€ir-.  :    -r   :.-iinu-   i::*ri*a  rr  "sie  aw  g  Tarrrff^' — diiL  1:25-    T!iii*  ar 
r        -  -j.r- .        ^r    l-.-  _i::^-  •^•nn  IT":  :ziic  yisscr^  Tur^fs^  ^zmaieExd  br  & 

7-' J,  '--"T-  -^   -Loii^  n  I.  iMiincsi  iniL  -"TTVTwr:^  same,  ace  nauilT 


■ir    i:  -rr^r?        iiiii     ii'M.s'Jsi    Til    -fsnianL  3uw 


ih^r^r?  '  -eij?   j**  ~r^i£    if  ssraan.  usa  if  ^wimn— n_ — IbU.  127- 


XiLr-n^E  III  ^*nnirrun  \'±a.  sinntu  -lue*!  .     ^mni*?  ae  sviy  t&as  *^  the 

mmiiRT  ff  iiT''Toe  TrrmnTnTus  -voum  irH  loocar.  rnat  what  ba  been 
iiTMniai*^.  ~fci  H!  nue^L  3u  lOrir  "iwn  •scsiar  ^aac  moiiEBB  •£  sttsnl 
ibrrr*  Ti:i:n  !is  nic  r'nnurq'L  ir-  liu*  jrv^  'if  im  wtj  t»  be  aBciiAad  to 
aoiiiii:  i'iii"'^!iii!3i».  or  ii^e  Txyae  ittu.  TcrT-IIissps  vsictL  aooctr  hath 
■ffl'jncyx.  "^i  jiPfT-iLd.  ji  liifiL  ic  -liiif  3dC3ral  iLw  Jg>  «•  ciTCK  vpW  ia- 
ii— iiiui^-v  '  —  I  iiii.  I  Jl*.  .^.T  Je£uri3.  "T?  ±3i£  tsas  cxiese  ^'  abaolnte 
npiii  *  jia"  :t»  iiTiiii^  tut  jzisxurj  ^m.  ceraia  Lezal  dfttiea.  or  the 
p*t«sttscaiiia  if  r-nin  'irgn.  r^riK  ir  ^ifina^  buca.  ac  toe  naie  time.  It 
3*.   ^•!na::*.    Liin_"  ti    :'inirK~-f  maz$ir  catsrsama  and  ubacuiiir  tif 


T'li*  2i:c':n  T':;:.ji  ▼■!cji  zxke-  pi-aakal  cf  ciril  fibeity  consist 
zi  "LT-i:  -f:rz.  f!  :f  r.i~jrL  iibern-  whka  koman  Isws  bare  spouied, 
i*  iLit  111  .n:'.*:!!:*  izii  rerrndx^s.  It  w.jcld,  if  correct,  jiistif}' 
PizzHr**  -ztzfZ'iTL.  iJLi"  ill  T'-'^sirc.Tii^i^z  I*  «  nccessaTT  cTiL  PoKtical 
^'■•Enj  MCr-in?  in  :ce  ii;**e*.?i:c  ;>t  those  legal  rights  which  are 
cr»ri:.ei  :t  Lit.  izd  ie::ir«i  K  zorenment.  Law,  therefore, 
—/•voi  ::  ^«'.Za  la  abrid^=:c2i  cf  iibertv.  is  the  parent  of  it. 
N.  i:.ir.  U  frctr,  •»'-->  :*  r-::  pro?«:x:t«i  against  wrongs ;  and  that 
priccii^.r.  U  i5:-nieo  by  U».     To  have  the  fiill  benefit  of  frank 


rir'::i».  since  tbev  alone  can  protect  them.  The  weak  are  not 
^re.  l>=c:&*j*e  unprotected:  they  possess  no  rights;  for  the  absence 
of  a'i  restraint  i<  to  them  the  negation  of  all  rights,  being  the 
exp<>>ure  to  all  wrongs.  Hence,  liberty  is  not  only,  as  Sir  James 
Mackintosh  remarks,  '  the  object  of  all  government^  but  it  is  the 
creature  of  government.  *  Men  ,*  remarks  the  learned  Author  dT 
the  Discourse  on  the  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations,  *  are  more  free 

*  under  every  government,  even  the  most  imperfect,  than  they 

*  would  be,  if  it  were  possible  for  them  to  exist  without  any  go- 

*  vemment :  they  are  more  secure  from  wrong,  more  undisturbed 

*  in  the  exercise  of  their  natural  powers,  and  therefore  more  free, 

*  than  if  they  were  alioffcther  unprotected  against  injury  from 
'  each  other."  But,  while  natural  liberty,  or  the  free  exercise  of 
our  natural  powers,  is  secured  by  government,  which  protects 


Lewis  on  the  Use  of  Political  Tertns,  479 

against  all  but  itself,  civil  liberty  may  more  properly  be  said  to 
be  derived  from  law,  which  is  the  protection  against  arbitrary 
rule,  against  the  abuses  of  governmept,  and  generally  partakes  of 
the  character  of  a  concession  to  the  governed.  What  are  our 
laws,  but  the  title-deeds  of  our  liberties,  obtained  by  gradual 
concessions,  and  devised  as  a  remedy  against  specific* wrongs :? 

The  idea  of  natural  liberty  in  a  social  state,  as  derived  from  an 
imaginary  social  compact,  is  not  merely  a  fiction, — 'the  suppo- 
'  sition  of  a  thing  which  never  had  any  existence  **;  but,  as  ex- 
plained by  the  advocates  of  the  theory,  involves  a  contradiction. 
This  theory  teaches,  that  mankind,  when  in  the  state  of  nature, 
made  a  compact  by  which  the  right  of  self-government  was  sur- 
rendered by  the  whole  community  on  condition  of  being  well 
governed.  But  this  very  compact  supposes  a  state  of  civil  society, 
and  the  pre>existence  pf  social  rights,*  which  are  never  found 
existing  in  savage  life.  Blackstone,  however,  contends,  that 
sudi  an  original  contract,  though  never  formally  expressed,  must 
be  understood  and  implied  in  the  very  act  of  associating  together. 
In  the  language  of  the  English  law,  implication  has  a  meaning 
nearly  equivalent  with  fiction.  Thus,  in  many  cases,  a  contract 
is  implied,  where  no  contract  was  made  ;  it  being  thereby  meant, 
that  the  legal  consequences  are  the  same  as  if  such  contract  had 
been  really  made,  and  that  their  existence  may  be  assumed  in 
argument  without  proof.     But,  remarks  Mr.  Lewis, 

*  It  IS  evident,  that  neither  on  the  comYnon  nor  on  the  legal  expla- 
nation of  implicaiion,  can  the  assumption  of  the  social  contract  be  sup- 
ported. It  cannot  be  inferred  from  the  existence  of  government,  or 
all  must  admit  that  government  mai/  exist  without  a  previous  conven« 
tion.  Nor  can  it  be  considered  as  a  legal  fiction  ;  for  a  legal  fiction  is 
a  supposition  avowedly  false,  but  treated  as  if  it  were  true,  for  the 
imagmed  convenience  of  administering  the  law.  A  legal  fiction  with- 
b,ut  th^  sanction  of  law,  is  a  mere  absurdity ;  and  therefore  it  cannot 
be  pretended  that  the  social  compact,  which  serves  as  the  foundation 
of  all  law,  derives  its  own  force  from  the  existence  of  law.* 

pp.211,  212. 

Yet,  the  popular  notions  respecting  the  natural  liberty  and 
equality  of  mankind  rest  upon  this  baseless  political  theory  ;  al- 
though not  unfrequently  entertained  by  persons  *  ignorant  of  the 
*  polluted  source  to  which  these  expressions  may  be  traced.** 

But,  while  we  agree  with  our  Author  in  his  general  definition 
of  legal  rights  as  conferred  by  law,  and  as  implying  correlative 
social  duties  in  others,  (which  are  the  only  species  of  rights  that 
political  or  juridical  science  is  concerned  with,)  we  are  not  prepared 
to  admit  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  natural  rights,  anterior  to 
government,  independent  of  human  laws  and  institutions,  because 
springing  out  of  the  original  natural  relations.  Mr.  Lewis  re- 
marks, that  Filmer'^s  argument,  that  men  are  bom  in  subjection 

3n  2 


460  Lewis  on  the  Uu  of  Political  Terma. 

to  their  parents,  and,  being  under  their  authority,  are  not  by 
nature  free,  ^  is  founded  on  the  customary  confusion  of  law  and 
'  morality  ;  for,  though  a  child,  in  a  savage  state,  owes  a  moral 
*'  duty  to  his  parents,  ne  is  bound  to  them  by  no  legal  obligation/ 
But,  if  he  owes  a  moral  duty  to  his  parents,  they  must  possess  a 
corrective  moral  right,  because  rights  and  duties  imply  each 
other.  And  this  right  must  be  regarded  as  an  actual  and  inher- 
ent right,  recognised,  but  not  created  by  law,  antecedent  to  all 
social  institutions,  and  of  which  no  man  can  be  justly  deprived. 
Granting  that  there  can  be  no  political  rights,  no  legal  obligations, 
anterior  to  human  laws  and  institutions,  morality,  as  well  as  law, 
has  its  rights,  which  are  neither  metaphysical  nor  supposititious, 
nor  dormant :  they  belong  not  to  ^  a  state  of  nature,**  but  to  na- 
ture in  every  state,  and  are  never  surrendered.  The  source  of 
these  moral  rights  and  obligations  is  the  law  of  God  and  the  divine 
constitution  of  our  nature. 

Another  term  respecting  which  great  confusion  of  ideas  has 
prevailed,  is,  sovereign  and  sovereignty.  By  many  writers,  sove- 
reignty is  confounded  with  royalty :  by  others,  the  word  is  used 
in  a  vague  and  half  metaphorical  sense,  as  denoting  the 
will  of  the  whole  community,  or  the  moral  influence  of  the  na- 
tion, or  a  part  of  it,  upon  the  acts  of  the  sovereign.     *  In  its  pro- 

*  per  sense,'  says  Mr.  Lewis,  *  the  word  sovereignty  means  the 
'  supreme  power  of  the  person  or  persons  who  are  sovereign  in  the 

*  state,  and  are  legally  uncontrolled  both  from  within  and  with- 

*  out.'  This  definition  is  not  very  happy.  That  sovereignty 
means  the  power  of  the  sovereign,  is  obvious,  but  this  throws 
little  light  upon  the  precise  import  of  either  term.  The  truth  is, 
however,  that  sovereignty,  that  is  irresponsible  and  uncontrolled 
power,  is  an  attribute  rarely  attaching,  in  fact,  to  those  who  are 
styled  sovereign.  Absolute  sovereignty,  and  absolute  supremacy, 
can  be  predicated  of  God  alone.  *  The  King  of  England  is  usu- 
^  ally  styled  sovereign,  and  such  is  his  legal  and  constitutional 

*  title,  because  he  is  in  all  things  supreme.' 

*  Nevertheless/  Mr.  Lewis  remarks^  '  according  to  the  scientific 
definition  of  sovereignty,  the  King  of  England  cannot  be  considered  as 
sovereign,  i.  e.  as  possessing  the  entire  sovereign  power ;  as  he  is  not 
able  to  make  laws  by  his  sole  authority,  and  it  is  necessary  that  the 
advice  and  consent  of  two  bodies,  irresponsible  in  a  corporate  capacity 
for  such  advice  and  consent,  should  previously  be  offered  and  obtained. 
Hence  it  is  that  the  King  of  England  is  termed  a  limited  monarch, 
and  the  government  of  England  is  called  a  limited  monarchy ;  because 
the  power  of  the  King  in  enacting  laws,  is  limited  by  the  necessity  of 
obtaining  the  consent  of  two  Houses  of  Parliament  to  their  enactment. 
And  thus  the  King  of  England  cannot  properly  be  said  to  possess  the 
entire  sovereign  power,  because  all  sovereign  power  is  unlimited  and 
uncontrolled ;  and  a  limited  sovereign  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.    The 


Lewis  on  the  Uae  of  Political  Terms*  4B1 

difference  between  an  absolute  and  a  limited  monarchy  is^  that  in  one 
the  entire  legislative  sovereignty  belongs  to  the  prince,  in  the  other  it 
is  shared  with  several.  It  is  indeed  generally  admitted,  that  all  sove- 
reign power  is  uncontrolled ;  and  it  is  expressly  laid  down  by  Black- 
stone,  that  "  the  sovereignty  of  the  British  constitution  is  lodged  in  the 
three  branches  of  the  Parliament ;  "  and  in  another  place,  he  calls  the 
King  "  one  of  the  constituent  parts  of  the  sovereign  legislative  power:" 
80  that,  although,  according  to  our  legal  language  and  the  written 
doctrines  of  our  constitution,  the  King  is  our  sovereign  lord,  yet  in  a 
general  sense  he  cannot  properly  be  called  a  sovereign,  or  be  said  to 
possess  the  entire  sovereign  power :  sovereignty,  in  this  peculiar  ac- 
ceptation, being  only  equivalent  to  preeminence,  or  supremacy,  and  not 
signifying  unlimited  and  absolute  authority.'  pp.  50 — 52. 

According  to  the  theory  of  the  constitution,  the  King  has  no 
power  of  enacting  laws.  The  legislative  sovereignty,  that  is,  the 
uncontrollable  power  of  making,  repealing,  or  expounding  laws, 
is  substantially  vested  in  the  Parliament ;  and  the  King  shares  in 
that  sovereignty,  according  to  the  theory,  only  by  his  veto ;  ac- 
cording to  fact,  only  by  the  influence  of  the  Crown  exerted  through 
his  ministers.     It  is  only  a  part  therefore,  ^  and  that  the  least 

*  important  part,'  of  the  sovereign  power,  that  is  possessed  by  the 
King.  With  regard  to  the  administration  of  the  laws  and  the 
declaration  of  peace  and  war,  he  is  sovereign.  Blackstone  lays 
it  down,  that  the  whole  executive  power  of  the  English  nation  is 
vested  in  the  King.  This  may  be  the  constitutional  theory;  but 
even  the  executive  sovereignty  is,  in  fact,  shared  with  the  Parlia- 
ment, by  whom,  through  the  responsibility  of  those  who  adminis- 
ter the  government,  the  royal  prerogative  is  effectively  con- 
trolled. It  is  true,  that  the  oflicers  intrusted  with  the  administra- 
tion of  the  laws  or  of  the  executive  government,  being  responsible 
for  their  acts,  cannot  be  said  to  have  any  share  of  sovereignty 
vested  in  them,  because  sovereign  power  is  irresponsible.  Still, 
the  responsibility  of  ministers,  not  to  the  Crown  merely,  but  to 
Parliament,  proves  that  the  executive,  not  less  than  the  legisla- 
tive sovereignty  is,  in  practice,  shared  by  the  Crown  with 
the  Parliament.  The  personal  irresponsibility  of  the  King,  in- 
tended to  secure  the  inviolability  of  his  prerogatives,  does  not 
extend  to  his  acts,  which  are  under  constitutional  control. 

Mr.  Lewis  correctly  remarks,  *  that  it  is  the  royal,  not  the  sovereign 
^  power  that  is  limited  in  a  limited  monarchy/  There  may  be  a 
divided  sovereignty,  or  rather  a  joint  sovereignty ;  but  '  a  limited 

*  sovereign  is  a  contradiction  in  terms/  In  every  government, 
there  is  a  supreme  authority,  in  which  the  jura  summi  imperii 
reside,  a  power  from  which  the  constitution  has  provided  no 
appeal.  This  unlimited,  uncontrolled  power  certainly  does  not 
reside  in  the  King  of  England,  who,  though  supreme,  is  not  un- 
controlled ;  though  invested  with  the  royal  jirerogatives,  is  not 


482  Lewis  on  the  Use  of  Political  Terms* 

absolutely  or  strictly  a  monarch  *.  The  limitation  of  his  pre- 
rogatives extends  to  his  executive  as  well  as  his  legislative  fiinc- 
tions.  Even  the  judicial  sovereignty,  which  may  with  more 
strict  propriety  be  siaid  to  reside  in  the  Crown,  has  been  virtually 
surrendered,  since  the  Judges  have  been  rendered  independent 
of  the  royal  pleasure,  and  consequently,  irresponsible.  Or  may  we 
not  say  that,  in  this  country,  the  Crown  itself,  with  its  sovereign 
prerogatives,  is  put  in  commission  f — that  while  the  majesty  of 
the  State  is  lodged  in  the  hands  of  a  single  person,  who  is  the 
fountain  of  all  honours  and  dignities,  the  rights  of  sovereignty 
are  divided  among  the  respective  Commissions  to  whom  the 
judicial,  military,  legislative,  and  administrative  powers  have  re- 
spectively been  assigned  by  the  theory  or  the  practice  of  the 
Constitution  ?  All  the  powers  of  the  Crown  still  exist,  but  they 
are  no  longer  vested  in  tne  monarch.  Of  the  monarchy,  if  we 
may  be  allowed  the  expression,  the  Supreme  magistrate  is  but 
the  co-trustee ;  sovereign  in  his  reserved  prerogatives,  but  not  in 
his  authority;  the  head,  but  not  the  possessor  of  the  actual 
sovereignty. 

'  In  these  as  well  as  in  some  oth^  respects,  the  British  Govern- 
ment, though  including  monarchical  institutions,  resembles,  Mr. 
Lewis  remarks,  that  of  the  United  States  of  America,  *  barring 

*  the  differences  caused  by  the  nature  of  a  federal  union ,^  far  more 
nearly  than  the  monarchies  of  Russia,  Austria,  and  Spain. 

*  '  If,  at  the  Revolution,  the  name  (title)  of  the  King  of  England,  as 
well  as  his  power,  had  been  changed,  but  he  had  nevertheless  exercised 
precisely  the  same  influence  in  the  Constitution  as  the  Crown  has 
exercised  since  that  time,  the  Government  would  have  been  called 
republican,  instead  of  monarchical ;  although  the  only  difference  would 
have  been,  in  the  name  of  the  first  person  in  the  State.'     p.  68. 

The  English  Government  is,  scientifically  considered,  though 
not  in  popular  language,  a  commonwealth  or  republic :  it  is  so, 
inasmuch  as  the  sovereign  power  is  divided,  and  not  in  the  hands 
of  a  single  person.  A  limited  monarchy  must,  in  the  very  nature 
of  things,  be  a  republic,  and,  in  the  spirit  of  the  government,  m 
effect  an  aristocrasy. 

The  phrase,  sovereignty  of  the  people^  is  one  to  which,  our 
Author  remarks,  it  is  not  very  easy  to  give  any  determinate 
meaning,  but,  as  generally  employed,  it  seems  intended  to  express 

*  the  moral  control  and  influence  exercised  by  the  community  at 

*  large  upon  the  acts  of  the  legislature.''     Sometimes,  however, 

*  '  It  is  perhaps  unfortunate,'  Mr.  Lewis  remarks,  '  that  usage  has 
sanctioned  the  extension  of  the  term  monarchy  to  all  states  in  which  a 
King  is  chief;  in  other  words,  has  identified  monarchic  with  royalltf* 


Lewis  071  the  Use  of  Political  Terms.  483 

the  phrase  means,  '  the  admission  of  all  the  members  of  the  com- 
*  munity,orallthefree  adult  males  to  the  election  of  representatives 
^  or  magistrates. 

'  In  this  sense,  it  appears  to  be  applied  to  the  government  of  the 
United  States  of  America :  but  this  usage  is  not  less  improper  and 
figurative  than  the  other  just  mentioned ;  as  the  right  of  votmg  for  the 
election  of  one  who  is  to  possess  a  share  of  the  sovereisnty,  is  itself  no 
more  a  share  of  the  sovereignty,  than  the  right  of  publishing  a  political 
treatise  or  a  political  newspaper.  The  exercise  of  the  one  right  may 
influence  the  decision,  as  the  exercise  of  the  other  may  influence  the 
formation,  of  the  sovereign  body. 

*  When  the  difference  between  the  literal  and  metaphorical  meanings 
of  the  sovereignty,— between  legal  power  and  moral  influence, — is 
clearly  perceived,  there  is  no  danger  in  speaking  of  the  sovereignty  of 
the  people  in  states  where  the  people  is  not  sovereign :  we  may  indeed 
avoid  it,  as  a  clumsy  and  inaccurate  mode  of  expressing  an  idea  which 
may  be  conveyed  by  precise  and  convenient  terms,  but  not  from  any 
fefar  of  its  producing  a  worse  result  than  obscurity.  This  phrase,  how- 
ever, is  often  presented  to  persons  little  acquainted  with  political  reasoning, 
who  may  easily  confound  real  with  figurative  sovereignty,  and  thus  be 
led  to  suppose  that  the  people  truly  possess  the  sovereign  power,  and 
therefore  are  not  subject  to  it.  On  tne  mischievous  tendency  of  such 
iiotions,  which  are  incompatible  with  the  existence  of  government,  it 
is  unnecessary  to  make  any  comment.'     pp.  43,  44. 

The  origin  of  the  phrase,  Mr.  Lewis  derives  from  Rousseau'*s 
theory  of  a  social  contract  and  the  opinions  connected  with  it. 

'  The  origin  of  Rousseau's  error,*  he  remarks,  '  appears  to  have  been, 
that  he  saw  the  whole  community  so  far  virtually  possesses  the  so^ 
Vereign  power,  that  if  all,  or  a  large  part  of  the  members  of  it  agree 
to  destroy  the  existing  government,  and  to  substitute  another,  they 
can  carry  their  agreement  into  effect,  as  all  government  is  ultimately  a 
question  of  superior  force.  But,  because  the  community  holds  in  its 
hands  the  issues  of  sovereignty,  it  is  not  to  be  called  sovereign ;  any 
inore  than  the  Earl  of  Warwick  is  to  be  called  King,  because  he  was 
called  King-maker*    pp.  47,  8. 

The  power  of  resistance  or  rebellion  is  assuredly  not  a  legal—r 
we  question  whether  it  can  be  termed  a  virtual  sovereignty. 
Something  beyond  this,  indeed,  would  seem,  according  to  Mr. 
CoIeridge^s  Idea  of  the  Constitution,  to  reside  in  the  nation  at 
large ; — a  latent,  reserved  power  in  the  people,  which  under  a 
free  constitution,  is  never  alienated  nor  delegated,  and  which, 
under  extraordinary  circumstances,  becomes  as  it  were  constituent 
and  sovereign*.  When  this  metaphysical  notion,  however,  is 
analysed,  it  comes  to  this;  that  the  moral  energy  of  a  nation  will, 
where  political  liberty  is  enjoyed,  operate  as  an  efficient  check 

*  Eclectic  Rev.  3d  Series,  Vol.  VI.  p.  8. 


4B4  Levis  an  the  Use  of  Political  Terms. 

upon  the  Gorerament ;  a  truth  which  cannot  be  doubted.  There 
sre  moral  limits  to  legal  sovereignty,  wherever  it  resides.  Ab- 
solute despots  have  found  their  powers  limited  in  this  respect ; 
but  we  do  not  attribute  sovereignty  to  either  the  press  or  the 
bowstring. 

Rousseau  pushes  his  notion,  that  sovereignty  essentially  con- 
sists in  the  general  will,  to  the  absurd  conclusion,  that,  as  will 
cannot  be  represented,  the  deputies  of  the  people  cannot  be  its 
representatives,  but  are  only  its  delegates.  *  The  English  people 
'  imagines,**  he  says,  *  that  it  is  free,  but  it  is  much  mistaken :  it 

*  is  free  only  during  the  election  of  members  of  parliament :  as 

*  soon  as  they  are  elected,  it  is  enslaved ;  it  is  nothing.**  This 
ridiculous  statement  proceeds  on  the  supposition,  that  the  electors 
are,  between  the  sessions  of  Parliament,  possessed  of  the  sovereign 
power,  which  they  surrender  to  their  representatives.  The  fact 
IS,  that  except  during  the  session  of  Parliament,  the  legislative 
sovereignty  in  this  country  is  in  abeyance ;  and  as  to  the  executive 
sovereignty,  that  at  no  time  vests  m  the  representatives  of  the 
people,  as  such. 

'  In  all  cases  of  delegation,  one  party  puts  another  in  his  place ; 
transferring  to  the  delegate  an  authority  which  he  is  either  unwilling 
or  unable  to  exercise  for  himself.  Thus  a  man  delegates  to  his  steward 
the  management  of  his  estate,  to  a  tutor  the  education  of  his  children ; 
arming  them  with  certain  powers,  which,  for  specific  purposes,  he 
possesses  in  his  capacities  of  proprietor  and  father.  But  no  one  can 
delegate  a  power  which  he  does  not  possess.  If  an  elector  does  not 
himself,  under  any  circumstances,  possess  the  power  of  making  laws, 
he  cannot  properly  be  said  to  delegate  to  another  the  power  of  making 
laws.  A  representative  exercises  this  power  by  virtue  of  the  votes  ^ 
his  constituents,  but  not  by  a  delegation  from  them.'     pp.  140,  141. 

'  The  right  of  voting  is  properly  a  political  right ;  nor  does  it  bear 
any  resemblance  to  the  exercise  of  sovereignty.  The  possession  of  this 
right  enables  a  voter  to  influence  the  formation  of  the  sovereign  body ; 
but  a  voter  never  has  any  part  of  the  governing  power,  nor  does  he 
wield  a  power  which  in  any  way  resembles  the  authority  of  govern- 
ment, except  that  the  decision  of  those  who  really  wield  that  authority 
may  be  influenced  by  his  vote.  The  moral  duty  incumbent  on  an 
elector  is  to  vote  for  that  candidate  whose  services  as  a  member  of  the 
legislature  are,  in  his  judgement,  most  likely  to  prove  beneficial  to  the 
state.  His  power,  conferred  by  this  right,  is  strictly  limited,  and  is 
confined  to  one  point,  namely,  the  contributing  to  the  choice  of  the 

supreme  legislative  body.     There  is  no  question  of  public  policy, no 

matter  of  legislation,  m  the  decision  of  which  he  has  oirectly  any 
voice.  At  the  times  when  the  mass  of  electors  are  called  on  to  exer- 
cise their  franchises,  (for  example,  after  a  dissolution  of  Parliament  in 
this  kingdom, )  the  legislative  sovereignty  is  in  abeyance,  and  no  law 
can  be  made.  But  the  power  of  a  member  of  the  legislature  is  by  law 
unlimited,  and  may  extend  to  any  matter  feJling  within  tJie  compass 
of  legislation. 


Lewis  on  the  Use  of  Political  Terms.  485 

'  Indeed,  no  two  things  can  be  more  clearly  distinguished,  than  the 
powers  of  a  member  of  a  sovereign  representative  assembly,  and  the 
right  of  voting  for  his  election.  Yet  they  are  perpetually  confounded 
in  popular  discourse ;  as  when  a  state  is  called  a  democracy,  because  a 
majority  of  its  freemen  have  a  vote  for  the  election  of  representatives; 
for  instance,  the  United  States  of  America,  the  government  of  which, 
as  has  been  already  observed,  is  in  strictness  an  aristocracy ;  and  when 
the  same  term  of  universal  suffrage  is  applied  to  the  votes  of  the  citi- 
zens in  the  ancient  democracies,  who  were  members  of  the  supreme 
legislature,  and  to  the  votes  of  electors  in  modern  states,  who  are  not. 
Nor  is  this  confusion  always  confined  to  popular  usage,  but  it  occurs 
even  in  the  most  recent  works  of  political  philosophers/     pp.  131,  2. 

But  is  it  not  an  erroneous  notion  which  confounds  the  repre- 
sentative and  the  legislator  as  one  character,  because  the  two 
characters  are,  in  certain  cases,  united  in  the  same  person  ?  That 
they  are  really  distinct,  a  moment'^s  consideration  will  be  sufficient 
to  render  palpable.  The  Peer  is  no  representative,  although  a 
legislator ;  whereas,  originally,  the  burgess  attended  parliament, 
not  as  a  legislator,  but  simply  as  a  delegate,  appointed  to  protect 
the  interests  of  his  constituents,  but  having  little  or  no  snare  in 
the  affairs  of  Government.  By  slow  degrees,  legislative  powers 
were  conceded  to  compliant  parliaments;  and  at  length,  the 
whole  business  of  legislation  and  government  has  come  to  be 
carried  on  by  the  instrumentality  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
Yet,  in  its  constitutional  forms,  and  its  exclusive  right  to  originate 
money  bills,  its  primary  character  is  still  to  be  traced,  as  the 
representative  and  guardian  of  the  municipal,  mercantile,  and 
agricultural  interests  of  the  people. 

The  Aindamental  principle  of  the  Constitution  is,  that  the 
people  shall  tax  themselves  by  their  representatives.  Upon  this, 
some  would  graft  the  claim  to  govern  themselves  by  their  repre- 
sentatives. But  this  supposed  right  of  self-government,  (so 
favourite  a  notion  with  the  democratic  politicians  of  America,)  is 
a  mere  theory,  involving  something  very  nearly  approaching  to  a 
contradiction;  since  self-government  must  imply,  in  such  a  refer- 
ence, the  not  being  governed  by  others,  or  the  non-existence  of 
that  sovereign  power  which  is  essential  to  government.  The  care 
of  public  interests  may  be  delegated  to  representatives  as  trustees; 
but  the  governing  power  cannot  be  delegated  by  the  people,  who 
never  possessed  it.  In  choosing  the  person  by  whom  that  power 
shall  be  exercised,  they  do  not  convey  the  power  which  the  Con- 
stitution vests  in  the  office.  A  constable,  for  instance,  though 
elected  by  the  parish,  derives  his  powers,  not  from  the  people, 
but  from  the  Crown.  All  government  is  a  control  upon  the  will 
of  the  community,  and  cannot  therefore  emanate  from  that  will. 
As  law  and  arbitrary  rule  are  opposed,  so  are  law  and  arbitrary 
conduct  in  civil  intercourse ;  and  the  freedom  and  security  derived 
VOL.  IX. — N.s.  3  o 


466  Lewis  an  ike  Use  of  Political  Terms. 

from  the  protection  of  the  laws  against  despotism  on  the  one 
hand,  are  not  less  dependent  upon  the  restraining  force  of  the 
laws  upon  the  popular  will  and  the  conduct  of  individuals  on  the 
other.  A  community  in  a  capacity  to  govern  itself,  through  the 
universal  prevalence  of  virtue,  intelligence,  political  wisdom,  and 
self-restraint,  and  standing  in  need  of  no  otner  protection  than  a 
mutual  good  understanding, — such  a  community  might  safely 
exist  and  cohere  without  any  sovereign,  without  any  government. 
In  such  a  state  of  society,  laws  would  need  no  sanctions ;  there 
would  be  no  wrongs  to  redress ;  there  would  be  no  occasion  for 
superiors  to  command ;  there  would  be  no  sul^ects,  for  all  would 
rule ;  and  the  public  will,  the  homogeneous  aggregate  of  the  will 
of  each  individual,  would  be  the  supreme  law.  There  are  prin- 
ciples which,  if  fidly  developed  and  ascendant,  would  produce  a 
condition  of  things  answering  to  this  supposition ;  but  they  are 
not  political  principles ;  they  have  but  slender  relation  to  the 
elements  of  human  polities.  To  realize  their  triumphant  operation, 
and  the  felicitous  results,  is  reserved  for  the  economy  of  heaven. 
To  return,  however,  to  the  subject  of  representation.  Mr. 
Lewis  remarks,  that  ^  the  distinction  between  real  and  virtual 

*  representation  appears  to  be  founded  on  the  erroneous  notion, 

*  that  a  representative  is  merely  the  delegate  of  his  constituents.^ 
But  so  far  as  he  is  their  representative,  we  should  say,  he  is 
merely  a  delegate.     The  error  lies  in  considering  him  as  a  mere 
representative,  when  he  is  also  entrusted  with  a  share  in  the 
public  business  of  legislation.     As  regards  the  specific  interests 
of  his  constituents,  the  representative  is  bound  to  act  as  their 
delegate  ;  but  it  is  not  as  their  delegate  that  he  is  called  to  act  in 
the  national  councils.     In  all  that  affects  the  trade  and  local 
interests  of  the  towns  they  represent,  the  members  for  Liverpool, 
or  Leeds,  or  Birmingham,  are  constitutionally  bound  to  represent 
the  sentiments,  to  watch  over  and  defend  the  rights  and  privileges 
of  their  constituents.     But,  as  the  people  of  Leeds  or  Liverpool 
have  no  right  to  legislate  for  England,  their  representatives,  not 
deriving  from  them  their  legislative  powers,  but  acting  as  trustees 
for  the  nation  at  large,  are,  in  all  public  questions,  required  to 
consult  only  the  general  welfare.     Having  to  legislate  for  the 
empire,  no  member  of  the  national  council  ought  to  be  guided  by 
instructions  that  may  be  dictated  by  local  interests,  when  they 
interfere  with  the  general  interests  of  the  country.     This  is  the 
opinion  of  our  highest  constitutional  authorities;  it  is  also  that  of 
the  most  enlightened  American  jurists,  who  deny  that  even  the 
constitution  of  their  republic  confers  upon  constituents  the  right 
of  giving  binding  instructions  to  representatives,  or  that  such 
right  is  the  consequence  of  the  relation  between  the  representative 
and  his  constituents.     '  Neither  the  expressed  will  nor  the  known 
*  wishes  of  constituents,  to  whatever  respect  they  may  be  entitled^ 


Foster's  Character  of  H all  487 

*  but  the  public  welfare,  ought  to  be  the  guide  of  the  Tcpresent- 

*  ative''s  conduct.'*  And  for  this  obvious  reason;  that  the  people 
of  Liverpool  can  have  no  right  to  legislate  in  questions  affecting 
the  property  of  the  people  of  Birmingham ;  the  inhabitants  of 
Yorkshire  can  have  no  right  to  impose  laws  upon  those  of  Devon- 
shire ;  nor  can  the  expressed  will  or  known  wishes  of  one  class, 
overrule  the  will  and  wishes  of  another.  All  that  constituents 
have  a  right  to  exact  from  their  representative,  is,  that  he  will 
act  as  their  attorney  in  protecting  their  own  property ;  as  their 
delegate,  in  representing  their  own  grievances.  But,  as  the 
proxy  cannot  exceed  the  powers  of  the  principal,  it  is  evident, 
that,  in  sitting  as  a  legislator,  he  ceases  to  be  a  mere  proxy,  and 
exercises  a  higher  trust  than  any  body  of  electors  can  convey. 
In  one  character,  he  is  the  real  representative  of  his  constituents, 
and  of  them  only :  in  the  other,  he  is  the  virtual  representative 
of  public  opinion,  the  guardian  of  the  national  interests,  or  of  the 
common  rights  of  the  people. 

Among  the  other  terms,  the  use  and  abuse  of  which  are  illus- 
trated in  the  present  volume  are.  Monarchy,  Aristocracy,  De- 
mocracy, Oligarchy,  Tyranny,  Balance  of  Powers,  Estate,  Rich 
and  Poor,  People  and  Community,  Power,  Authority,  and  Force. 
Other  terms  will  occur  to  reflective  readers,  some  belonging  to 
political  science,  some  to  jurisprudence,  which  equally  require  to 
be  rescued  from  fallacious  ambiguity.  If  it  be  true,  that  *  every 
'  improper  term  contains  the  germ  of  fallacious  propositions  %  (of 
which  the  instances  we  have  given  may  be  considered  as  affording 
sufficient  evidence,)  if  'improper  terms  are\  as  Bentham  has 
remarked,  *the  chains  which  bind  men  to  unreasonable  practices'*, 
the  inquiries  of  Mr.  Lewis  will  not  be  deemed  of  small  value  or 
slight  importance.  We  cordially  thank  him  for  the  very  useful 
volume  which  he  has  furnished,  the  utility  of  which  will  greatly 
consist  in  its  leading  the  reader  to  follow  out  the  hints  which  the 
Author  has  suggested,  and,  by  a  similar  process  of  examination 
extended  to  other  terms,  to  detect  the  fallacies  which  are  thickly 
scattered  over  the  whole  field  of  inquiry. 

Art.  III.--1.  Works  of  Robert  Hall,  A.M.  With  a  brief  Memoir  of 
his  Life  by  Dr.  Gregory,  and  Observations  on  his  Character  as  a 
Preacher,  by  John  Foster.  Published  under  the  Superintendence 
of  Olinthus  Gregory,  LL.D.,  F.R.A.S.,  &c.  Vol.  VI.  8vo. 
London,  1B32. 

2.  The  British  Critic,  Qjiarterly  Theological  Review,  and  Ecclesiastical 
Record.     No.  xxvi.  April.     Art.  Works  op  Robbrt  Hall. 

¥  N  preceding  articles,  it  has  been  attempted  to  delineate  Mr. 
Hairs  intellectual  character,  and  to  furnish  an  estimate  of  his 

•  See  Eclectic  Review,  Third  Series,  Vol.  VII.  pp.  491,  2. 

3  o  2 


488  Foster's  Character  of  HalL 

genius  and  attaiBmento,  both  as  a  pulpit  orator  and  a  writer. 
We  have  reserved  for  our  concluding  notice  of  these  volumes,  a 
more  special  consideration  of  his  character  as  a  preacher,  as 
analysed,  we  might  almost  say  dissected,  by  his  friend  Mr.  Foster, 
whose  disquisition,  the  Reviewer  in  the  British  Critic  remarks, 

*  like  every  thing  which  issues  from  the  mind  of  that  distinguished 

*  writer,  is  singularly  acute  and  powerful,  and,  withal,  tremendously 

*  elaborate.'  It  is,  indeed,  a  most  valuable  dissertation  upon  the 
art  and  business  of  preaching,  touching  upon  a  variety  <^  topics 
connected  with  the  proper  discharge  of  pulpit  ministrations. 

The  graphic  powers  of  the  Writer's  pen  are  displayed  with 
admirable  success  in  the  exact  portrait  of  Mr.  Hall  as  he  appeared 
in  the  pulpit. 

'  As  a  preacher^  none  of  those  contemporaries  who  have  not  seen 
him  in  the  pulpit,  or  of  his  readers  in  another  age,  will  be  able  to 
conceive  an  adequate  idea  of  Mr.  Hall.  His  personal  appearance  was 
in  striking  conformity  to  the  structure  and  temper  of  his  mind.  A 
large-built,  robust  figure  was  in  perfect  keeping  with  a  countenance 
formed  as  if  on  purpose  for  the  most  declared  manifestation  of  internal 
power;  a  power  impregnable  in  its  own  strength,  as  in  a  fortress,  and 
constantly,  without  an  effort,  in  a  state  for  action.  That  countenance 
was  usually  of  a  cool,  unmoved  mien  at  the  beginning  of  the  public 
service ;  and  sometimes,  when  he  was  not  greatly  excited  by  his  subject, 
or  was  repressed  by  pain,  would  not  acquire  a  great  degree  of  temporary 
expression  during  the  whole  discourse.  At  other  times,  it  would 
kindle  into  an  ardent  aspect  as  he  went  on,  and  toward  the  conclusion 
become  lighted  up  almost  into  a  glare.  But  for  myself,  I  doubt 
whether  I  was  not  quite  as  much  arrested  by  his  appearance  in  the 
interval  while  a  short  part  of  the  service,  performed  without  his 
assistance,  immediately  before  the  sermon  *,  allowed  him  to  sit  in 
silence.  With  his  eyes  closed,  his  features  as  still  as  death,  and  his 
head  sinking  down  almost  on  bis  chest,  he  presented  an  image  of  entire 
abstraction.  For  a  moment,  perhaps,  he  would  seem  to  awake  to  a 
perception  of  the  scene  before  him,  but  instantly  relapse  into  the  same 
state.  It  was  interesting  to  imagine  the  strong  internal  agency  which 
it  was  certain  was  then  employed  on  the  yet  unknown  subject  about  to 
be  unfolded  to  the  auditory.' 

Mr.  Foster  proceeds  to  describe  his  manner  of  public  prayer, 


*  Persons  unacquainted  with  the  Dissenting  order  of  service  may, 
perhaps,  wonder  in  what  this  part  consisted.  It  is  usually  called  the 
singing,  and  this  term  too  often  describes  all  that  it  is,  but  not  all  that 
it  ought  to  be.  If  it  were  worship,  there  would  be  a  manifest  im- 
propriety in  the  minister's  taking  no  part  in  it.  If  it  be  only  an 
interval  intended  for  the  relief  and  repose  of  the  minister,  it  were 
earnestly  to  be  desired  that  some  more  seemly  expedient  were  adopted ; 
such  as  the  reading  of  a  scripture  lesson,  or  some  performance  that  did 
not  affect  to  be  devotion. 


Foster's  Character  of  Hatl,  489 

which,  *  considered  as  an  exercise  of  thought,  was  not  exactly 
*  what  would  have  been  expected  from  a  mind  constituted  like  his.' 

'  As  to  the  devotional  spirit,  there  could  be  but  one  impression. 
There  was  the  greatest  seriousness  and  simplicity,  the  plainest  cha- 
racter of  genuine  piety,  humble  and  prostrate  before  the  Almighty. 
Both  solemnity  and  good  taste  forbade  indulgence  in  any  thing  showy 
or  elaborately  ingenious  in  such  an  employment.  But  there  might 
have  been,  without  any  approach  to  any  such  impropriety,  and,  as  it 
always  appeared  to  me,  with  great  advantage,  w^hat  I  may  venture  to 
call  a  more  thinking  performance  of  the  exercise ;  a  series  of  ideas  more 
reflectively  conceived,  and  more  connected  and  classed,  if  I  may  so 

express  it,  in  their  order The  succession  of  sentences  appeared 

almost  casual,  or  in  a  connexion  too  slight  to  hold  the  hearer's  mind 
distinctly,  for  a  time,  to  a  certain  object.  A  very  large  proportion  of 
the  series  consisted  of  texts  of  Scripture ;  and  as  many  of  these  were 
flgnrative,  often  requiring,  in  order  to  apprehend  their  plain  sense,  an 
act  of  thought  for  which  there  was  not  time,  the  mmd  was  led  on 
with  a  very  defective  conception  of  the  exact  import  of  the  phraseol<^y. 
He  did  not  avail  himself  of  the  portion  of  Scripture  he  had  just  read, 
as  a  guiding  suggestion  of  subjects  for  the  prayer ;  and  very  seldom 
made  it  bear  any  particular  relation  to  what  was  to  follow  as  the  sub- 
ject of  the  discourse.' 

In  one  word,  the  public  prayers  of  Mr.  Hall  were  singularly 
and  strikingly  inartificial.  In  illustrating  this  characteristic, 
Mr.  Foster  must  be  considered  as  bearing  testimony  to  the  single- 
ness of  purpose,  the  entire  sincerity,  and  the  heart-felt  devotion 
which  those  who  heard  Mr.  Hall  engage  in  any  devotional  ex- 
ercise, could  not  but  ascribe  to  him.  By  some  persons,  the  very 
excellence  of  his  prayers  may  be  thought  to  have  consisted  in 
what  Mr.  Foster  describes  as  their  deficiencies.  That  they  should 
have  consisted  of  a  succession  of  spontaneous  expressions  of  devout 
feeling,  rather  than  of '  trains  of  petitionary  thought  \  or  of  '  ac- 
*  cumulated  sentiments '  on  any  specific  topic, — that  they  should 
have  savoured  so  much  more  of  the  closet  than  of  the  pulpit, — 
that  there  should  have  been  uniformly  observable  so  entire  an 
avoidance  of  intellectual  effort,  such  an  abeyance  of  the  imagin- 
ation, such  a  prostration  of  soul  before  the  footstool  of  the  Divine 
Majesty, — will  be  regarded  by  many  as  constituting  the  true 
beauty  and  moral  sublimity  of  Mr.  HalFs  devotional  exercises. 
Upon  our  own  minds,  we  must  confess,  the  governing  impression 
which  they  produced  was,  This  is  prayer  ;  this  is  worship.  And 
the  almost  irresistible  result  of  such  an  impression  is,  to  join  in 
the  actj  and,  instead  of  a  listener,  to  become  a  worshipper. 

We  are  extremely  anxious  to  do  justice  to  Mr.  Foster''s  sen- 
timents upon  this  important  topic.  The  opinions  of  such  a 
writer  are  entitled  to  deferential  attention;  and  something  maybe 
learned  from  them,  even  when  we  are  compelled  to  question  their 
entire  soundness.      We  must  concede  that  Mr.  HalPs  public 


490  Foster's  Character  of  Hall. 

prayers  might  have  been  all  that  we  have  described  them,  in 
point  of  spirit,  and  yet  their  structure  have  been  different.  The 
feeling  might  have  been  perfectly  inarti6cial,  even  if  the  compo- 
sition had  not  been  so.  The  most  natural  feelings  of  sincere 
devotion  are  continually  being  expressed  in  the  highly  artificial 
form  of  verse.  There  can  be  no  reason,  then,  why  premeditated 
trains  of  thought  and  precomposed  forms  or  modes  of  expression 
should  not  be  rendered  subservient  to  the  pouring  forth  of  the 
most  unaffected  feelings  of  penitence,  holy  aspiration,  and  humble 
intercession.  Had  Mr.  Hall  studie<l  his  expressions  or  the  order 
of  his  thoughts  in  prayer,  we  feel  persuaded  that  the  result  of  his 
highest  elaboration  would  only  have  been,  a  more  perfect  sim- 
plicity of  phraseolog}',  a  rejection  of  figurative  language,  and  a 
studious  accommodation  of  the  style  of  thought  to  the  humblest 
capacity. 

There  is  also  a  very  important  distinction  between  precom- 
posing  prayers  for  public  delivery,  and  studying  the  best  method 
and  models  of  devotional  exercises.  Admitting  prayer  to  be  a 
gift,  (as  is  every  qualification,)  it  is  a  gift  that  requires  cul- 
tivation ;  and  the  unpremeditated  effusions  of  the  heart  will  take 
their  character  from  the  pains  bestowed  upon  preparatory  acqui- 
sitions. ''  To  him  that  hath,  shall  be  given.*"  The  spirit  of 
prayer  is  most  likely  to  be  imparted  to  him  who  has  honoured 
the  Author  of  that  spirit,  by  applying  the  best  faculties  of  his 
mind  to  the  consideration  of  the  most  appropriate  method  of 
conducting  this  solemn  part  of  our  religious  services.  In  reject- 
ing forms  of  prayer,  there  is  some  danger,  perhaps,  of  running  to 
the  opposite  extreme  of  undervaluing  models  of  devotion :  a  study 
of  these  might  correct  the  taste,  enrich  the  barrenness,  and 
elevate  the  feelings  of  many  who,  from  mistaken  notions,  have 
been  led  to  inflict  upon  their  congregations  the  vapid  production 
of  customary  occasion. 

But  we  are  apprehensive  lest  Mr.  Foster'^s  remarks  should  be 
understood  as  countenancing,  not  merely  '  a  more  thinking  per- 

*  formance  of  the  exercise ',  but  a  style  of  thinking  or  of  perform- 
ance which  we  should  earnestly  deprecate.  No  one,  he  hopes, 
will  mistake  his  meaning  so  far  as  to  imagine,  that  he  is  recom- 
mending the  introduction  of  ^pieces  of  discussloji^  formal  deve- 

*  lopments  of  doctrine,  nice  casuistical  distinctions,  like  sections 

*  of  a  theological  essay.''  But  his  disclaiming  such  a  meaning 
seems  to  intimate,  that  the  style  he  is  recommending  might  run 
into  that  most  unhappy  species  of  impropriety.  Mr.  Foster  must 
have  heard  such  specimens  of  preaching  prayers,  to  a  devotional 
mind  most  distressing.  It  has  happened  to  us  to  attend  at  places 
of  worship  where  the  whole  service  has  seemed  to  us  to  consist  of 
sermofi.  The  minister  has  first  prayed  a  sermon,  then  the  con- 
gregation have  sung  a  short  sermon,  and  thirdly,  has  come  the 


Foster's  Cfiaracter  of  HalL  491 

regular  discourse.  We  c»innot  conceal  our  extreme  jealousy  lest, 
in  objecting  against  Mr.  HalFs  prayers,  which  were  at  the  furthest 
remove  from  a  sermonizing  cast,  Mr.  Foster  should  be  thought  to 
favour  the  practice  of  praying  to  a  congregation,  or  at  them,  in- 
stead of  conducting  a  common  act  of  devotion.  In  recommend- 
ing a  selection  of  topic,  with  a  view  to  variety  and  impressiorij 
he  says : 

*  I  might  ask,  why  should  sermons  be  constructed  to  fix  the  attention 
of  a  mixed  congregatiun  on  distinct  parts  of  religion,  instead  of  beings 
each  in  succession,  vaguely  discursive  over  the  whole  field  ?  I  would 
not  say  that  the  two  exercises  are  under  the  same  law  ;  but  still,  is 
there  a  propriety,  that,  in  a  discourse  for  religious  instruction,  some 
selected  topics  should  stand  forth  in  marked  designation,  to  work  one 
certain  effect  on  the  understanding  or  the  feelings,  and  no  propriety 
that  any  corresponding  principle  should  be  observed  in  those  prayers 
which  may  be  supposed  to  request,  and  with  much  more  than  a  passing 
momentary  interest,  such  things  as  that  instruction  would  indicate  as 
most  important  to  be  obtained  ?  ' 

If  Mr.  Foster  means  only  to  recommend,  in  public  prayer,  a 
definiteness  of  object  and  language,  as  opposed  to  a  vague  gene- 
rality of  expression  which  is  comprehensive  of  nothing,  and  which 
is  unaffecting  because  it  is  unmeaning ; — if  he  intends  only  to 
suggest  the  desirableness  of  a  specific  adaptation  in  the  matter  of 
supplication  to  the  occasion  and  the  other  parts  of  the  service, — 
of  a  determinateness  in  the  general  direction  of  the  thoughts,  so 
that  prayer  shall  seem,  what  it  always  ought  to  be,  the  fruit  of 
meditation,  and  the  expression  of  deliberate  desire; — then,  we 
must  say,  that  we  entirely  agree  with  him,  and  should  be  happy 
to  believe  that  bis  remarks  will  gain  attention  where  they  are 
likely  to  be  most  useful.     '  Distinct  and  somewhat  prolonged 

*  petition  "*  on  different  topics,  would  give  not  only  variety,  but 
greater  propriety  to  our  public  prayers.  Only  let  it  be  petition, 
not  description ;  let  it  be  the  iteration  of  desire,  not  the  mere 
amplification  of  sentiment.  In  a  word,  let  it  be  prayer.  What- 
ever deficiency  there  might  be  in  the  structure  of  Mr.  HalPs 

Eublic  devotional  exercises,  considered  as  a  models  (on  which  our 
mited  opportunities  of  hearing  him  prevent  us  from  pronouncing 
a  decided  opinion,)  the  fervour,  simplicity,  and  reality  of  his 
prayers  rendered  them,  as  regarded  their  spirit,  most  impressive 
and  worthy  of  imitation. 

The  very  reverse  of  this  *  defect  of  concentration''  or  inde- 

*  terminateness  in  the  direction  of  thought,'  imputed  to  Mr.  HalPs 
public  prayers,  was  conspicuous  in  his  preaching. 

'  He  surpassed  perhaps  all  preachers  of  recent  times,  in  the  capital 
excellence  of  having  a  definite  purpose,  a  distinct  assignable  subject,  in 
each  sermon.     Sometimes,  indeed,  us  when  intruders  had  robbed  him 


402  Foster's  Character  of  Hall. 

of  all  his  time  for  study^  or  when  his  spirits  had  been  consnmed  by  a 
prolonged  excess  of  pain,  he  was  reduced  to  take  the  license  of  dis- 
coursing with  less  definite  scope,  on  the  common  subjects  of  relieion. 
But  he  was  never  pleased  with  any  scheme  of  a  sermon  in  which  he 
could  not,  at  the  outset,  say  exactly  what  it  was  he  meant  to  do.     He 
told  his  friends,  that  he  always  felt  "he  could  do  nothing  with"  a  text 
or  subject  till  it  resolved  and  shaped  itself  into  a  topic  of  which  he 
could  see  the  form  and  outline,  and  which  he  could  tsJce  out  both  from 
the  extensive  system  of  religious  truth,  and,  substantially,  from  its 
connexion  with  the  more  immediately  related  parts  of  that  system ;  at 
the  same  time  not  failing  to  indicate  that  connexion,  by  a  few  brief, 
dear  remarks  to  shew  the  consistency  and  mutual  corroboration  of  the 
portions  thus  taken  apart  for  separate  discussion.    This  method  insured 
to  him  and  his  hearers  the  advantage  of  an  ample  variety.     Some  of 
them  remember  instances  in  which  he  preached,  with  but  a  short  in- 
terval, two  sermons  on  what  would  have  appeared,  to  common  appre- 
hension, but  one  subject,  a  very  limited  section  of  doctrine  or  duty ; 
yet  the  sermons  went  on  quite  different  tracks  of  thoueht,  presenting 
separate  views  of  the  subject,  related  to  each  other  only  by  a  general 
consistency.     His  survey  of  the  extended  field  of  religion  was  in  the 
manner  of  a  topographer,  who  fixes  for  a  while  on  one  separate  district, 
and  then  on  another,  finding  in  each,  though  it  were  of  very  confined 
dimensions,  many  curious  matters  of  research,  and  many  interesting 
objects ;  while  yet  he  shall  possess  the  wide  information  which  keeps 
the  country  at  large  so  comprehensively  within  his  view,  that  he  can 
notice  and  illustrate,  as  he  proceeds,  all  the  characters  of  the  relation 
of  the  parts  to  one  another  and  to  the  whole.'     p.  150. 

Mr.  Foster  proceeds  to  delineate  the  plainness  both  of  thought 
and  language,  which  was  uniformly  observed  in  Mr.  HalFs  intro- 
duction to  his  discourse ;  the  quiet  and  almost  feeble  manner  in 
which  he  commenced  the  delivery ;  the  inartificial  distribution 
and  division  of  his  discourses ;  and  the  strict  connexion  of  thought 
which  marked  the  earlier  and  middle  portions,  but  of  which, 
towards  the  conclusion,  there  was  generally  a  remission,  when  the 
Preacher  would  ^  throw  himself  into  a  strain  of  declamation, 
*  always  earnest  and  often  fervid.' 

'  This,'  Mr.  Foster  remarks,  ^  was  of  great  effect  in  securing  a 
degree  of  favour  with  many  to  whom  so  intellectual  a  preacher  would 
not  otherwise  have  been  acceptable :  it  was  this  that  reconciled  persons 
of  simple  piety  and  little  cultivated  understanding.  Many  who  might 
follow  him  with  very  imperfect  apprehension  and  satis^iction  through 
the  preceding  parts,  could  reckon  on  being  warmly  interested  at  the 
latter  end.  In  that  part,  his  utterance  acquired  a  remarkable  change 
of  intonation,  expressive  of  his  own  excited  feelings.' 

The  intellectual  qualities  of  Mr.  HalPs  preaching  are  analysed 
and  portrayed  in  the  following  paragraphs  with  equal  truth  and 
force  of  expression. 

'  He  displayed^  in  a  most  eminent  degree^  the  rare  exoellenoe  of  a 


Foster's  Character  of  Hall  49B 

porfeet  conoeptioii  and  expression  of  ever j  thought,  however  rapid  the 
succession.  There  were  no  half-formed  ideas,  no  misty  semUanoes  of 
a  meaning,  no  momentary  lapses  of  intellect  into  an  utterance  at 
hazard,  no  sentences  without  a  distinct  object,  and  serving  merely  for 
the  continuity  of  speaking :  every  sentiment  had  at  once  a  palpable 
^ape,  and  an  appropriateness  to  the  immediate  purpose.  If,  now  and 
then,  which  was  selaom,  a  word,  or  a  part  of  a  sentence,  slightly  failed 
to  denote  precisely  the  thing  he  intended,  it  was  curious  to  observe 
bow  perfectly  he  was  aware  of  it,  and  how  he  would  instantly  throw 
in  an  additional  clause,  which  did  signify  it  precisely.' 

'  Every  cultivated  hearer  must  have  been  struck  with  admiration  of 
the  preacher's  mastery  of  language,  a  refractory  servant  to  many  who 
have  made  no  small  efforts  to  command  it.  I  know  not  whether  he 
sometimes  painfully  felt  its  deficiency  and  untowardness  for  his  purpose; 
hat  it  seemed  to  answer  all  his  requirements,  whether  for  cutting  nice 
discriminations,  or  presenting  abstractions  in  a  tangible  form,  or  in- 
vesting grand  subjects  with  splendour,  or  imparting  a  pathetic  tone  to 
expostulation,  or  inflaming  the  force  of  invective,  or  treating  common 
topics  without  the  insipidity  of  common-place  diction.  His  language 
in  the  pulpit  was  hardly  ever  colloquial,  but  neither  was  it  of  an 
artificial  cast.  It  was  generally  as  little  bookish  as  might  consist  with 
an  uniformly  sustained  and  serious  style.  Now  and  then  there  would  be  a 
scholastic  term,  beyond  the  popular  understanding,  so  familiar  to  him- 
self, from  his  study  of  philosophers  and  old  divines,  as  to  be  the  first 
word  occurring  to  him  in  his  rapid  delivery.  Some  conventional 
phrases  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  using,  (for  instance,  "  to  usher 
in,"  "  to  give  birth  to,"  &c.)  might  better  have  been  exchanged  for 
plain  unfigiirative  verbs.  His  language  in  preaching,  as  in  conversation, 
was  in  one  considerable  point  better  than  in  his  well-known  and 
daborately  composed  sermons,  in  being  more  natural  and  flexible. 
When  he  set  in  reluctantly  upon  that  operose  employment,  his  style 
WM  apt  to  assume  a  certain  processional  stateliness  of  march,  a  rne- 
terical  rounding  of  periods,  a  too  frequent  inversion  of  the  natural  order 
of  the  sentence,  with  a  morbid  dread  of  degrading  it  to  end  in  a  particle 
or  other  small  looking  word ;  a  structure  in  which  I  doubt  whether 
the  augmented  appearance  of  strength  and  dignity  be  a  compensation 
Ibr  the  sacrifice  of  a  natural,  living,  and  variable  freedom  of  com- 
position. A  remarkable  difference  will  be  perceived  between  the 
nighly- wrought  sermons  long  since  published,  and  the  short  ones  now 
printed,  which  were  written  without  a  thought  of  the  press ;  a  difiTerence 
to  the  advantage  of  the  latter  in  the  grace  of  simplicity.  Both  in  his 
conversation  and  his  public  speaking,  there  was  often,  besides  and 
beyond  the  merit  of  clearness,  precision,  and  brevity,  a  certain  felicity 
ci  diction ;  something  which^  had  it  not  been  common  in  his  discourse^ 
would  have  appeared  the  special  good  luck  of  falling  without  care  of 
selection  on  the  aptest  words,  cast  in  elegant  combination,  and  producing 
an  effect  of  beauty  even  when  there  was  nothing  expressly  ornamenti£ 

'  From  the  pleasure  there  is  in  causing  and  feeling  surprise  by  the 
exaggeration  of  what  is  extraordinary  into  something  absolutely  mar- 
vellous, persons  of  Mr.  Hall's  acquaintance,  especially  in  his  earlier 
life,  have  taken  great  license  of  fiction  in  stories  of  his  extemporaneoas 

VOL.  IX. — K.s.  3  p 


494  FoBter^s  Character  of  Hall. 

eloquence.  It  was  not  uncommon  to  have  an  admired  aermon  asaerted 
to  have  been  thrown  off  in  an  emergency  on  the  atrength  of  an  hoar's 
previous  study.  This  matter  has  been  set  right  in  Dr.  Gregory's 
curious  and  interesting  note  (prefixed  to  V<u.  I.)  describing  the 
preacher's  usual  manner  of  preparation;  and  showing  that  it  was 
generally  made  with  deliberate  care.  But  whatever  proportion  of  the 
discourse  was  from  premeditation,  the  hearer  could  not  distingniah  that 
from  what  was  extemporaneous.  There  were  no  perioda  betraying,  by 
a  mechanical  utterance,  a  mere  recitation.  Every  aentenoe  had  so 
much  the  spirit  and  significance  of  present  immediate  thinking,  as  to 
prove  it  a  living  dictate  of  the  speaker's  mind,  whether  it  came  in  the 
way  of  recollection,  or  in  the  fresh  production  of  the  moment.  And 
in  most  of  his  sermons,  the  more  animated  ones  especially,  a  very  large 
proportion  of  what  he  spoke  must  have  been  of  this  immediate  origin- 
ation ;  it  was  impossible  that  less  than  this  should  be  the  effect  of  the 
excited  state  of  a  mind  so  powerful  in  thinking,  so  extremely  prompt 
in  the  use  of  that  power,  and  in  possession  of  such  copious  materials. 

'  Some  of  his  discourses  were  of  a  calm  temperament  nearly  through- 
out ;  even  these,  however,  never  fietiling  to  end  with  a  pressing  en- 
forcement of  the  subject.  But  in  a  considerable  portion  of  them  (a 
large  one,  it  is  said,  during  all  but  a  late  period  of  his  life)  he  wanned 
into  emotion  before  he  had  advanced  through  what  might  be  called  the 
discussion.  The  intellectual  process,  the  explications,  arguments,  and 
exemplifications,  would  then  be  animated,  without  being  oonfused, 
obscured,  or  too  much  dilated,  by  that  more  vital  element  which  we 
denominate  sentiment ;  while  striking  figures,  at  intervals,  emitted  a 
momentary  brightness;  so  that  the  understanding,  the  passions,  and 
the  imagination  of  the  hearers,  were  all  at  once  brought  under  command, 
by  a  combination  of  the  forces  adapted  to  seise  posaesaioii  of  each. 
The  spirit  of  such  discourses  would  grow  into  intense  fervour,  even 
before  they  approached  the  conclusion.' 

'  It  has  been  observed  that  he  had  the  command  of  ample  and  vari- 
ous resources  for  illustration  and  proof.  The  departments  firom  whidi 
he  drew  the  least  might  be,  the  facts  and  philosophy  of  the  material 
world.  His  studies  had  been  directed  with  a  strong  and  habitual  pre- 
ference to  the  regions  of  abstraction  and  metaphysics.  And  he  fur- 
nished a  fine  example  of  the  advantage  which  may  be  derived  firora 
such  studies  to  the  faculty  for  theological  and  moral  discnssiona,  by  a 
mind  at  the  same  time  too  full  of  ardour,  sentiment,  and  piety,  to  be 
cooled  and  dried  into  an  indifference  to  every  thing  but  the  moat  dis- 
embodied and  attenuated  speculation.  The  advantage,  as  exemplified 
by  him,  of  the  practice  and  discipline  of  dealing  witn  truth  in  the  ab- 
stract, where  a  severe  attention  is  required  to  apprehend  it  as  a  real 
subsistence,  to  see  and  grasp  it,  if  I  may  so  speak,  in  tangible  forms, 
might  be  noted  as  twofold.  First,  (that  which  has  been  anticipated 
in  former  remarks,)  the  utmost  precision  in  every  thing  he  uttered. 
He  could  express  each  dictate  of  thought  in  perfect  nneedom  from 
doubt  whether  it  might  not  be  equivocal ;  whether  it  might  not  be  of 
loose  import  and  vague  direction,  instead  of  strictly  to  the  point ;  whe- 
ther it  mi^ht  not  involve  some  latent  inconsistency  within  itself  or  in 
its  immediate  conjunction  with  another  idea ;  whether  it  were  exactly 


Foster's  Character  of  Hall  496 

the  very  thing  he  intended.  It  was  of  complete  formation  in  his  un- 
derstanding ;  it  had  its  including  line  and  limits  instead  of  being  con- 
fused with  something  else.  As  it  was  once  happily  said  by  himself  of 
Johnson^  "  he  shone  strongly  on  the  angles  of  a  thought."  The  con- 
sequence of  his  rigorous  habits  of  thinking  thus  came  with  eminent 
value  into  discourse  addressed  and  intelligible  to  ordinary  good  sense^ 
where  there  was  no  obvious  intervention  of  that  refined  speculation 
which  was  nevertheless  contributing^  in  eflTect,  so  much  to  the  clear- 
ness and  strength  of  its  consistence.  What  was  of  philosophic  quality 
in  its  most  immediate  agency^  became  a  popular  excellence  in  its 
result. 

*  But  secondly :  besides  the  distinctness  and  precision  of  all  the 
particulars  of  thought  in  detail^  that  exercise  of  abstract  speculation 
had  brought  him  into  possession  and  mastery  of  those  general  princi- 
ples^ in  virtue  of  which  these  particular  sentiments  must  have  their 
authority.  It  is  not  at  all  necessary  in  any  ordinary  course  of  instruc- 
tion,  to  be  continually  tracing  the  particular  back^  for  its  verification, 
to  the  general ;  but  it  is  a  great  advantage  to  be  able  to  do  so  when  it 
U  necessary,  as  it  sometimes  will  be.  He  could  do  this;  he  knew 
from  what  original  truths  could  be  deduced  the  varieties  of  sentiment 
which  the  sp^iker  utters  in  unqualified  assertion,  as  not  liable  to  be 
questioned.  Any  of  them^  not  self-evident,  he  could  have  abstracted 
into  a  proximate  principle  in  a  generalization,  and  that  again  resting 
on  a  still  deeper  or  ultimate  one.  He  had  seen  down  to  the  basis,  ana 
therefore,  was  confident  of  the  firmness  of  what  he  stood  upon ;  unlike 
a  man  who  is  treading  on  a  surface  which  he  conceives  or  suspects  to 
be  hollow,  and  is  ignorant  and  fearful  of  what  there  may  be  under- 
neath. Or,  to  change  the  figure,  he  could  trace  the  minor  outermost 
ramifications  of  truth  downward  into  the  larger  stems ;  and  those 
larger  into  the  main  trunk  and  the  root.     This  conscious  ability  of  the 

Ereacher,  or  any  other  discourser,  to  sustain  upon  first  principles  what 
e  is  advancing  with  the  freedom  of  unhesitating  assertion  ana  assump- 
tion, will  impart  a  habitual  assurance  of  safety  while  he  is  expatiating 
thus  in  what  may  be  called  the  out\vard,  free,  and  popular  exposition 
of  his  subject. 

'  It  is  presumed  that  this  representation  of  the  use  he  made,  in 
sermons,  of  his  power  and  habits  of  abstract  speculation,  may  sufiice  to 
prevent  a  notion,  in  the  minds  of  any  of  our  readers  who  may  seldom 
or  never  have  heard  him,  that  he  was  in  a  specific  sense  a  philosophi- 
cal or  metaphysical  preacher.  He  did  often  indeed  (and  it  was  a  dis- 
tinguishing excellence  equally  of  his  talking,  preaching,  and  writing,) 
point  to  some  general  principle,  and  briefly  and  plainly  shew  how  it 
authorized  an  opinion.  Occasionally,  in  a  more  than  usually  argu- 
mentative discourse,  he  would  draw  out  a  more  extended  deduction. 
He  would  also  cite  from  the  doctrines  of  philosophy,  with  lucid  ap- 
plication, some  law  of  the  human  mind  (for  instance,  and  especially, 
that  of  association).  But  still  it  was  far  more  a  virtual  than  a  formal 
result  of  his  abstruser  studies  that  pervaded  his  preaching. 

'  His  intimate  acquaintance  with  many  of  the  greatest  authors, 
whom  he  had  studied  with  a  sentiment  of  reverence,  and  whose  in- 
tellectual and  religious  wealth  was  largely  drawn  into  his  own  capa- 

3p2 


Ipi  Foiler'ii  Charmder  of  HatL 

doot  fiicultiei^  oontributed  to  predade  an  ostentatioii  of  crigiiiaUtf . 
fiis  iermons  would  make,  on  coltiyated  hearers,  a  general  iinpreaaioa 
of  aomething  new,  in  the  sense  of  being  very  di&rent,  hj  eminent 
guperiority,  mm  any  common  character  of  preaching;  but  the  novelty 
would  appear  less  to  consist  in  absolute  origination,  than  in  the  ad- 
mirable power  of  selection  and  combination.  It  was  not  exhibited  in 
ft  frequency  of  singularly  bold  prominent  inventions,  in  the  manner  of 
the  new  mountains  ana  islanos  sometimes  suddenly  thrown  up  on 
tracts  of  the  globe ;  but  rather  in  that  whole  construction  of  the  per« 
fimnanoe  by  which  the  most  appn^riate  topics,  £rom  whatever  quarter, 
were  brought  into  one  array,  were  made  imposing  by  aggr^atioq, 
ttroi^  by  unity  of  purpose,  and  often  bright  by  felicitous  appositioo ; 
in  short,  were  so  plastically  ordered  as  to  assume  much  of  the  character 
^  a  creation.  It  is  probable  that  if  his  studies  had  been  ^  slighter 
tenour,  if  his  reading  had  been  less,  or  more  desultory,  if  his  faculties 
had  been  suffered  to  run  more  loose,  his  discourses  would  have  mare 
abounded  with  ideas  starting  out,  as  it  were  sinely,  with  an  aspect 
like  nothinff  ever  seen  before.  His  mental  ground  was  cultivated  too 
industriously  and  r^^arly  for  subatantial  produce,  to  leave  room  for 
those  often  beautiful  wiid-flowers,  which  spring  spontaneously  in  a 
fiertile  half-wrought  soiL  His  avowed  indiflerence  to  poetry  might  be 
taken  as  one  indication  of  a  mind  more  adapted  to  converse  with  the 
substantialities  of  truth,  than  to  raise  phantoms  of  invention.  Perhaps 
the  most  striking  feature  of  his  originality  was  seen  in  his  talent  (like 
the  chemistry  whidi  brings  a  latent  power  into  manifestation  and  action) 
of  drawing  from  some  admitted  principle  a  hitherto  unthought-of 
inference,  which  affects  the  whole  argument  of  a  question,  and  iMids  to 
ft  conclusion  either  new  or  by  a  new  road.'    pp.  \bb — 164. 

The  remark  may  occasion  surprise  to  some  persons,  accmtomed 
to  identify  exnberance  of  ima^nation  with  the  highest  attribute 
of  intellect,  that,  in  Mr.  Hallos  mental  constitution,  imagination 
was  a  subordinate  faculty.     *  It  was  never  of  that  prolific  power 

*  which  threw  so  vast  a  profusion  over  the  oratory  of  Jeremy 

*  Taylor  or  of  Burke;  or  which  could  tempt  him  to  revel,  for 

*  the  pure  luxury  of  the  indulgence,  as  they  appear  to  have  some- 

*  times  done,  in  the  exuberance  of  imaginative  genius.'*     la  this 

Siality  of  mind,  in  absolute  originality,  we  should  say  that  Mr. 
all  was  transcended  by  the  Author  of  the  "  Essay  on  Popular 
Ignorance,^  whose  pen  has  supplied  this  fine  specimen  of  philo- 
sophical discrimination.  What  Mr.  Hail  himself  valued  far 
more,  both  in  himself  and  in  others,  and  what,  adds  Mr.  Fos- 
ter, *  all  except  very  young  or  defectively  cultivated  persons  and 

*  inferior  poets  must  regard  as  the  highest  of  mental  endowments,'* 
IS  the  intellectual  power.     This   displayed  itself  in  his  *  won- 

*  derful  ability  for  comprehending  and  reasoning,  his  quickness  of 

*  apprehension,  his  faculty  for  analyzing  a  subject  to  its  elements, 

*  for  seizing  on  the  essential  points,  for  going  back  to  principles 

*  and  forward  to  consequences,  and  for  imnf^g  out  into  an  ui- 
«  ^^i^He  and  aomedmee  verjr  obvioos  fbna,  wbat  appeued  ob- 


Foster's  Charaoter  of  Hall.  197 

^•dne  or  petplexed.^  And  these  endowments  'remained  un- 
altered  to  tne  last.'  This  constitution  of  mind,  moreoyer,  tended 
to  indispose  Mr.  Hall  at  all  times  to  vague  and  presumptuous 
speculations,  and  no  doubt  contributed  to  arm  him  against  the 
temptation  to  scepticism,  at  the  time  that  his  theological  notions 
were  in  some  degree  crude  and  unfixed. 

'  That  constitution  was  not  predominantly  either  imaginative  or 
contemplative ;  it  was  intellectual,  in  the  strictest  sense ;  in  the  (per- 
haps arbitrary)  sense^  that  the  matter  of  his  speculations  must  be  what 
he  could  distmctly  understand,  what  he  could  survey  in  such  form  and 
eider  as  to  admit  of  propositions  and  reasons  ;  so  that  the  speculative 
process  lost  its  interest  with  him  if  carried  into  a  direction,  or  if  ex- 
oeeding  the  limit,  where  it  could  no  longer  be  subjected  to  the  methods 
of  proof;  in  other  words,  where  it  ceased  to  comprehend  and  reason, 
and  turned  into  conjecture,  sentiment,  and  fancy.  He  seemed  to  have 
no  ambition  to  stretch  out  his  intellectual  domain  to  an  extent  which 
he  could  not  occupy  and  traverse,  with  some  certainty  of  his  move- 
ments  and  measurements.  His  sphere  was  very  wide,  expanded  to  one 
circle  beyond  another,  at  each  of  which  in  succession  he  left  many  other 
men  behind  him,  arrested  by  their  respective  limits ;  but  he  was  will- 
ing to  perceive,  and  even  desirous  to  verify,  his  own  ultimate  boun- 
dary ;  and  when  he  came  to  the  line  where  it  was  signified  to  him, 
"  Thus  fiar,  and  no  further/*  he  stopped,  with  apparently  much  less  of 
an  impulse  than  might  have  been  expected  in  so  strong  a  spirit,  to 
seek  an  outlet,  and  attempt  an  irruption  into  the  dubious  territory 
beyond. 

'  With  a  mind  so  constituted  and  governed,  he  was  less  given 
than  many  other  men  of  genius  have  been  to  those  visionary  modes  of 
thought ;  those  musings  exempt  from  all  regulation  ;  that  impatience 
of  aspiration  to  reach  the  vast  and  remote ;  that  fascination  of  the 
mysterious,  captivating  by  the  very  circumstance  of  eluding ;  that  fear- 
ful adventuring  on  the  dark,  the  unknown,  the  awful ; ''  those  thoughts 
that  wander  through  eternity,"  which  have  often  been  at  once  the 
luxury  and  the  pam  of  imaginative  and  highly  endowed  spirits,  dis- 
contented with  their  assigned  lot  in  this  tenebrious  world,  ^o  doubt, 
in  his  case,  piety  would  have  interfered  to  restrain  such  impatience  of 
curiosity,  or  audacity  of  ambitious  thinking,  or  indignant  strife  against 
the  confines  of  our  present  allotment,  as  would  have  risen  to  a  spirit 
of  insubordination  to  the  divine  appointment.  And  possibly  tnere 
were  times  when  this  interference  was  required ;  but  still  the  structure 
of  his  Acuities,  and  the  manner  of  employing  them  to  which  it  deter- 
mined him,  contributed  much  to  exempt  him  from  that  passion  to  eo 
beyond  the  mortal  sphere  which  would  irreligiously  murmur  at  the 
limitation.  His  acquiescence  did  not  seem  at  least  to  cost  him  t  strong 
efiTort  of  repression. 

'  This  distinction  of  his  intellectual  character  was  obvious  in  his 
preaching.  He  was  eminently  successful  on  sul)ject8  of  an  elevated 
order,  which  he  would  expand  and  illustrate  in  a  manner  which  aus- 
tained  them  to  the  hieh  level  of  their  dignity*  This  carried  Jbim  near 
aome  jioint  of  the  borauer  of  that  awful  dsttkness  which  encompissi^  on 


498  Foster's  Character  of  Hall. 

all  sides^  our  little  elimni^ng  ^^^  of  knowledge ;  and  then  it  ni]|^t 
be  seen  how  aware  he  was  of  his  approach^  how  cautiously,  or  shafi  I 
say  instinctively,  he  was  held  aloo^  how  sure  not  to  abandon  the 
ground  of  evidence,  by  a  hazardous  incursion  of  conjecture  or  imagina- 
tion into  the  unknown.  He  would  indicate  how  near,  and  in  whst 
direction,  lay  the  shaded  frontier ;  but  dared  not,  did  not  seem  even 
tempted,  to  invade  its  "  majesty  of  darkness/' '    pp.  168 — 169. 

One  of  the  finest  sermons  in  the  present  volume  strikingly 
illustrates  and  confirms  the  justness  ot  these  observations.  Toe 
text  is  taken  from  Prov.  xxv.  2.  ^^  It  is  the  glory  of  Grod  to 
conceal  a  thing."*^  The  general  sentiment  of  the  discourse  is, 
that  *  a  temperature  of  mingled  light  and  obscurity,  a  combination 

*  of  discovery  and  concealment,  is  calculated  to  produce  the  most 

*  suitable  impressions  of  the  Divine  excellence  on  the  minds  of 

*  fallen  creatures/  Pascal  has  a  similar  sentiment,  which  may 
possibly  have  suggested  the  subject  of  this  truly  sublime  dis- 
course. Mr.  HaU  delivered  it  more  than  once,  but  with  consi- 
derable variation  in  the  filling  up  of  the  grand  outline  of  thought. 
It  is  here  given  as  taken  down  in  short-hand  by  Joshua  Wilson, 
Esq.,  (in  September,  1826,)  with  an  admirable  fidelity  that 
scarcely  leaves  room  to  regret  its  not  appearing  as  the  production 
of  the  Preacher'^s  pen.  Our  own  recollection  enables  us  to  bear 
this  testimony  to  tne  accuracy  of  several  of  the  reported  discourses, 
while  the  internal  evidence  stamps  them  with  genuineness.  We 
cannot  refrain  from  pausing  to  introduce  in  this  place  a  few  para- 
graphs from  the  sermon  alluded  to. 

'  1.  The  Divine  Being  is  accustomed  to  conceal  much  in  relation  to 
his  own  nature  and  manner  of  existence. 

'  His  essence  is  altogether  hidden  from  the  most  profound  investica- 
tion,  the  most  laborious  research,  the  most  subtle  penetration,  of  his 
creatures.  With  respect  to  this,  it  may  be  said,  "  Who  by  searching 
can  find  out  God ;  wno  can  find  out  the  Almighty  to  perfection?  "  We 
know  that  he  possesses  certain  attributes,  (which  we  distinguish  by 
dilferent  names  drawn  from  analogous  excellencies  among  men,)  ex- 
clusive of  all  limit  or  imperfection  found  in  human  nature.  We  ascribe 
to  him  every  idea  of  virtue  and  spiritual  beauty,  exalted  to  infinite 
perfection.  But  how  the  Divine  Being  himself  exists  in  an  essential 
and  eternal  nature  of  his  own,  without  beginning  as  well  as  without 
end, — how  he  can  be  present  at  the  same  moment  in  every  point  of 
illimitable  space,  without  excluding  any  one  of  his  creatures  from  the 
room  it  occupies, — how,  unseen,  unfelt  by  all,  he  can  maintain  a  per- 
vading and  intimate  acquaintance  and  contact  with  all  parts  and  por- 
tions of  the  universe, — how  he  can  be  at  ooce  all  eye,  all  ear,  all 
presence,  all  energy,  yet  interfere  with  none  of  the  perceptions  and 
actions  of  his  creatures, — this  is  what  equally  bafi^es  the  mightiest  and 
the  meanest  intellect;  this  is  the  great  mystery  of  the  universe,  which 
is  at  once  the  most  certain  and  the  most  incomprehensible  of  all  things; 
— a  truth  at  once  enveloped  in  a  flood  of  light  and  an  abyss  of  dark- 
ness !    Inexplicable  itself^  it  explains  all  besides:  it  casts  a  clearness 


Foster's  Character  of  Hall.  4&9 

on  every  question^  accounts  for  every  phenomenon^  solves  every  pro- 
blem, illuminates  every  depth,  and  renders  the  whole  mystery  of 
existence  as  perfectly  simple  as  it  is  other\vise  perfectly  unintelligible, 
while  itself  alone  remains  in  impenetrable  obscurity  !  After  displacing 
erery  other  difficulty,  it  remains  the  greatest  of  all,  in  solitary,  un- 
BUrmountable,  unapproachable  grandeur !  So  truly  ''  clouds  and 
darkness  are  round  about  him."  '*  He  maketh  darkness  his  secret  ha- 
bitation ;  his  pavilion  to  cover  him,  thick  clouds." 

'  His  perfections  are  impressed  on  the  works  of  nature ;  but  in  such 
a  manner  that  we  learn  them  only  by  inference.  We  ascend  from 
effects  to  causes ;  from  the  marks  of  contrivance  and  design,  to  the 
necessary  existence  of  an  Almighty  Contriver.  But  what  sort  of  being 
be  is,  and  what  is  the  nature  of  his  contact  with  his  creatures,  must, 
in  the  present  state  at  least,  remain  an  unfathomable  mystery.  We 
are  utterly  at  a  loss  in  all  such  speculations ;  yet  this  affords  no  dimi- 
nution of  the  motives  of  piety.  Our  belief  in  the  being  of  a  God  is 
the  belief  of  a  profound  mystery.  The  very  idea  of  such  a  Being 
would  appear  incredible  were  it  not  that  it  is  necessary,  because  the 
greatest  absurdities  would  flow  from  supposing  the  contrary.  Nothing 
can  be  accounted  for  unless  we  admit  the  existence  of  a  causeless 
Cause — a  presiding  Governor  of  the  universe.  We  are  compelled 
therefore  to  choose  the  less  difficulty  of  the  two ;  or  rather,  to  choose 
difficulty  instead  of  impossibility,  mystery  instead  of  absurdity :  and 
bence  we  repose  on  this  grand  truth. 

'  2.  The  Divine  Being  observes  the  same  method  of  concealment,  in 
a  great  variety  of  respects,  with  regard  to  the  structure  and  consti- 
tution of  his  works.  The  scenes  of  nature  lie  open  to  our  view ;  they 
solicit  our  senses,  and  are  adapted  to  impress  themselves  in  a  most 
lively  manner  upon  our  minds.  "  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of 
God,  and  the  firmament  sheweth  his  handywork."  We  cannot  look 
around  us  without  beholding,  not  only  the  works  themselves,  but  evi- 
dent traces  of  that  matchless  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness,  whence  they 
sprang.  Still,  the  mysteries  of  nature,  with  regard  to  the  essences  of 
tnings,  and  indeed  to  a  multitude  of  subtle  operations,  are  kept  in  a 
kind  of  sacred  reserve,  and  elude  the  utmost  efforts  of  philosophy  to 
surprise  them  in  their  concealments  and  bring  them  to  light.  Wnile 
Philosophy  goes  on  from  step  to  step  in  the  march  of  her  discoveries, 
it  seems  as  if  her  grandest  result  was  the  conviction  how  much  re- 
mains undiscovered ;  and  while  nations  in  a  ruder  state  of  science  have 
been  ready  to  repose  on  their  ignorance  and  error,  or  to  confound 
familiarity  with  knowledge,  the  most  enlightened  of  men  have  always 
been  the  first  to  perceive  and  acknowledge  the  remaining  obscurity 
which  hung  around  them ;  just  as,  in  the  night,  the  farther  a  light 
extends,  the  wider  the  surrounding  sphere  of  darkness  appears.  Hence 
it  has  always  been  observed,  that  the  most  profound  inquirers  into 
nature  have  been  the  most  modest  and  humble.  So  convinced  was 
Socrates,  the  chief  luminary  of  the  ancient  world,  of  the  great  ob- 
scurity attending  all  such  inquiries,  that  he  abandoned  the  search  of 
nature,  and  confined  his  disquisitions  to  moral  questions,  and  rules  for 
the  conduct  of  life.  The  same  illustrious  man  declared,  that  he  knew 
no  reason  why  the  oracle  of  Delphos  pronounced  him  to  be  the  wisest 


500  Potter's  CharaUer  of  Hall. 


of  men,  ezeept  it  was  that,  being  amtdoos  of  his  ignflnmce,  he 
willing  to  confiess  that  he  knew  nothing.  Newton,  the  gfeatest  phi- 
loMpher  whom  the  modern  world  hat  known,  dedared,  speaking  of  t 
distinguished  contemporary  from  whose  genius  he  angored  vast  dis- 
eoreries,  hut  who  died  in  early  life,  (the  celebrated  Cotes,)  "  If  that 
young  man  had  lived,  we  should  hare  known  something."  In  ss 
modest  a  manner  did  he  advert  to  his  own  imperfect  knowledge  of  that 
science  with  which  he  had  attained  such  proaigions  acqoaintanee  as  to 
have  become  the  pride  and  wonder  of  the  world !  Those  that  have  de- 
voted themselves  to  an  investigation  of  the  laws  of  nature,  find,  in  a  great 
variety  of  the  most  common  productions,  sufficient  to  engage  their  in- 
quiries and  employ  their  faculties:  they  perceive  that  ue  roeanfst 
work  of  Ood  is  inexhaustible ;  —contains  secrets  which  the  wisdom  of 
man  will  never  be  able  to  penetrate.  They  are  only  some  of  the  supers 
ficial  appearances  and  sensible  properties  with  which  we  are  fiimiliar. 
Substances  and  essences  we  cannot  reach.  The  secret  laws  which  regn^ 
late  the  operations  of  nature  we  cannot  unveil.  Indeed,  we  have 
reason  to  believe  that  the  most  enlarged  understanding  must^  in  a  very 
short  time,  resolve  its  inquiries  into  the  will  of  Gkxi  as  the  ultimate 
reason.  Thus,  one  of  the  best  effects  of  intellectual  cultivation,  and 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  is  to  restore  the  mind  to  that  state  of 
natural  simplicity  and  surprise  in  which  every  thing  above,  beneath, 
and  around  us,  appears  replete  nith  mystery,  and  excites  those  emo- 
tions  of  freshness  and  astonishment  with  which  the  scenes  of  nature 
are  contemplated  during  the  season  of  childhood.'    pp.  35— -40. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  discourse,  the  Preacher  shews  how  the 
concealment  thrown  in  various  respects  over  the  Divine  works 
and  ways  tends  to  display  his  {^lory : — ^1.  as  it  is,  in  part,  the 
necessary  consequence  of  his  infinite  superiority  to  all  finite 
beings  in  wisdom  and  understanding ; — 2*  because  it  evinces  bis 
entire  independence  on  the  wisdom,  counsel,  and  co-operation  of 
any  or  all  of  his  creatures ; — 3.  because  the  partial  manifestation 
is  eminently  adapted  to  the  exigencies  and  condition  of  man ; — 
4.  because  the  fuller  discoveries  of  the  future  state  will  be  a  source 
of  great  additional  happiness  to  the  redeemed. 

'  The  Deity  is  intended  to  be  the  everlasting  field  of  the  homan 
intellect,  as  well  as  the  everlasting  object  of  the  human  heart,  the 
everlasting  portion  of  all  holy  and  happy  minds,  who  are  destined  to 
spend  a  blissful  but  ever-active  eternity  in  the  contempktioa  of  his 
glory.  This  can  only  be  effected  bv  his  concealing  himself.  He  will  for 
ever  remain  "  The  Unknown  Goo."  We  shall  ever  be  consdous  thst 
we  know  little  compared  with  what  remains  to  be  known  of  him ;  that 
onr  most  rapturous  and  lofty  songs  fall  infinitely  short  of  his  excdknoe. 
If  we  stretch  our  powers  to  the  uttermost,  we  shall  never  ezhaost  his 
praise,  never  render  him  adequate  honour,  never  discharge  the  full 
amount  of  claim  which  he  possesses  upon  our  veneration,  obedience, 
and  gratitude.  When  we  have  loved  him  with  the  greatest  fervoor, 
wst  love  will  still  be  oold  compared  with  his  title  to  oar  devoted  at- 
taduneot.    This  will  render  him  the  continual  sonrce  of  fresh  delight 


Foster's  Character  of  Hall.  501 

to  all  eternity.  His  perfection  will  be  an  abyss  never  to  be  fathomed ; 
there  will  be  depths  in  his  excellence  which  we  shall  never  be  able  to 
penetrate.  We  shall  delight  in  losing  ourselves  in  his  infinity.  An 
unbounded  prospect  will  be  extended  before  us ;  looking  forward 
through  the  vista  of  interminable  ages,  we  shall  find  a  blissful  occupa- 
tion for  our  faculties^  which  can  never  end ;  while  those  faculties  will 
retain  their  vigour  unimpaired,  flourish   in   the  bloom  of  perpetual 

youth; and  the  full  consciousness  remain,  that  the  Being 

whom  we  contemplate  can  never  be  found  out  to  perfection 

that  he  may  always  add  to  the  impression  of  what  we  know,  by  throw- 
ing a  veil  of  indefinite  obscurity  over  his  character.  The  shades  in 
which  he  will  for  ever  conceal  himself,  will  have  the  same  tendency  to 
excite  our  adoring  wonder  as  the  effulgence  of  his  glory ;  the  depths  in 
which  he  will  retire  from  our  view,  the  recesses  of  his  wisdom  and 
power,  as  the  open  paths  of  his  manifestation.  Were  we  capable  of 
eomprehending  the  Deity,  devotion  would  not  be  the  sublimest  em- 
plcmnent  to  which  we  can  attain.  In  the  contemplation  of  such  a 
Ming,  we  are  in  no  danger  of  going  beyond  our  subject ;  we  are  con- 
versing with  an  infinite  object in  the  depths  of  whose  essence 

and  purposes  we  are  for  ever  lost.  This  will  probably  give  all  the 
emotions  of  freshness  and  astonishment  to  the  raptures  of  the  beatific 
▼iaion,  and  add  a  delightful  zest  to  the  devotions  of  eternity.  This 
will  enable  the  Divine  Being  to  pour  in  continually  fresh  accessions  of 
light ;  to  unfold  new  views  of  his  character,  disclose  new  parts  of  his 
perfection,  open  new  mansions  in  himself,  in  which  the  mind  will  have 
ample  room  to  expatiate.  Thus  shall  we  learn,  to  eternity,  that,  so 
feix  from  exhausting  his  infinite  fulness,  there  still  remain  infinite 
recesses  in  his  nature  unexplored — scenes  in  his  counsels,  never  brought 
before  the  view  of  his  creatures ;  that  we  know  but  *'  parts  of  his 
ways;"  and  that  instead  of  exhausting  our  theme,  we  are  not  even 
approaching  nearer  to  the  comprehension  of  the  Eternal  All.  It  is  the 
OBTsteriousness  of  God,  the  inscrutability  of  his  essence,  the  shade  in 
which  he  is  invested,  that  will  excite  those  peculiar  emotions,  which 
nothing  but  transcendent  perfection  and  unspeakable  grandeur  can 
inspire.'    pp.  69 — 71  • 

Nothing  in  the  range  of  pulpit  oratory,  with  which  we  are  ac- 
ouainted,  is  finer  than  the  sudden  descent  from  this  magnificent 
night  of  thought  to  the  common  ground  of  practical  duty. 

'  Before  I  conclude  this  discourse,  permit  me  to  remind  you,  that 
while  there  are  many  things  which  God  conceals,  and  thereby  advances 
his  glory,  he  has  made  manifest  whatever  is  essential  for  man  to  know. 
Whatever  is  intimately  connected  with  our  dutv  is  most  plainly 
taught ;  whatever  is  important  to  our  welfare  and  happiness  is  fully 
revealed.  Do  not  for  a  moment  imagine  that  he  has  concealed  any 
thing  that  bears  a  near  relation  to  your  interest.  <'  He  hath  shewed 
*'  thee,  O  man,  what  is  good."  He  has  distinctly  set  before  you  the 
good  and  evil  of  a  future  life.  It  is  true,  you  know  not  the  time  of 
your  death,  but  you  know  that  vou  are  mortal ;  you  know  not  the 
particulars  of  what  will  succeed  aeath,  but  you  know  that  there  will 

▼OL.  IX. N.S.  3  Q 


602  Foster's  Cknraei€r  of  Hall. 

be  a  resurrection  of  the  dead,  both  of  the  jmt  and  alio  of  the  iii^)«st ; 
that  they  who  have  done  good  shall  eome  forth  to  the  resnrrectiop  of 
life,  they  that  have  done  evil  to  the  resunrectioii  of  eondenmatML 
Jesus  Christ  has  disclosed  in  the  gospel,  as  far  as  they  are  important 
for  any  practical  purposes,  the  realities  of  eternity  ;  has  announced  to 
you  his  second  appearance  to  raise  the  dead,  and  decide  tlie  eternal 
destinies  of  the  human  race ;  to  separate  between  the  righteous  and  the 
wicked,  place  every  individual  of  mankind  in  one  of  those  classes,  and 
divide  them  one  from  another  as  a  shepherd  dirideth  his  sheep  frem 

the  goats.' 

'  These  are  subjects  on  which  the  wisdom  of  man  can  wy  nothing, 

or  can  utter  but  the  feeble  articulations  of  infancy The  highcSk 

efforts  of  human  sagacity  reach  not  beyond  the  bounds  of  time ;  they 
cannot  pass  the  threshold  of  eternity.  They  are  scanty  and  inadequate, 
— and  leave  the  world  in  darkness  and  misery,  compared  with  these 
discoveries  of  revelation.  Do  not  conclude  from  the  partial  obscurity 
which  attends  some  of  its  truths,  that  religion  is  not  the  great  concern 
of  accountable  immortal  creatures,  or  that  you  will  be  justified  in  dis- 
regarding such  affecting  prospects  as  these.  No,  my  brethren,  this 
obscurity  is  not  such  as  to  hide  from  you  your  great  interest,  to  make  a 
right  choice  doubtful,  or  to  render  it  matter  of  the  least  hesitation 
whether  you  should  serve  God  or  not.  God  has  revealed  cnoogh, 
where  the  light  of  the  Gospel  comes,  to  give  men  the  clearest  infbnna- 
tion  concerning  their  eternal  welfare;  has  set  before  them  life,  and  has 
set  before  them  death ;  has  pointed  out  the  broad  and  the  narrow  way ; 
shewn  them  the  path  of  destruction,  that  they  may  avoid  it — and  tlie 
way  of  life,  that  they  may  walk  in  it.  Jesus  Chnst  has  come  to  ren* 
der  these  things  so  plain  and  obvious,  that  even  "  wayfaring  men, 
though  fools,  may  not  err  therein."  Though,  with  respect  to  the 
constitution  of  his  person,  mysterions  as  his  Divine  Father,  being 
"  the  brightness  of  his  glory  and  the  express  image  of  bis  person ; " 
with  respect  to  the  practical  purpose  of  his  incarnation,  the  great  de- 
sign of  his  appearance  in  human  flesh,  he  is  ''  the  Light  of  the  world : 
whoso  followeth  him  shall  not  walk  in  darkness,  but  shali  bave  the 
light  of  life."  "  I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life:  no  man 
Cometh  unto  the  Father,  but  by  me."  If  you  are  earnest  in  seeking 
the  salvation  of  your  souls,  you  have  all  the  evidence  yon  can  wish; 
you  are  distinctly  informed,  that  a  remedy  has  been  provided,  exactly 
suited  to  your  case.  Though  you  are  guilty,  the  blood  of  Christ  csn 
expiate  that  guilt ;  though  you  are  polluted,  the  Spirit  of  Christ  csn 
cleanse  from  that  pollution.  The  gospel  is  every  way  adapted  to  your 
wants  and  misery.  It  has  pleased  the  Father,  that  in  Christ  all  ftil- 
ness  should  dwell.  You  are  invited  to  come  to  him  at  thia  moment,  to 
receive  out  of  that  fulness  all  spiritual  blessings— pardon,  sanctiiics- 
tion,  and  life  everlasting.  He  has  given  you,  in  reference  to  these, 
**  line  upon  line,  precept  upon  precept."  Jesus  Christ  has  become  the 
incarnate  wisdom  of  God.     No  person  now  need  perish  for  want  of  a 

Srofound  understanding,  since  the  method  of  salvation  has  been  farooght 
own  to  the  level  of  the  meanest  capacity :  "  Wisdom  stands  at  the 
eomers  of  the  streets,  and  cries ;  To  you,  O  men,  I  call,  and  mv  voice 
is  to  the  sons  of  men."    Surely  these  are  the  deep  things  of  God, 


Fetter's  Character  of  Hall,  SOB 

w)iidi  the  wpbit  who  aearcheth  all  things  alone  has  explored ;  ^ich 
the  wisdom  of  the  world  never  knew^  the  tongue  of  human  eloquence 
nearer  proclaimed^  the  discoveries  of  human  philosophy  never  ap- 
proached :  but  now  they  form  the  very  elements  of  piety,  so  that  the 
meanest  person  cannot  neglect  them,  without  living  in  a  practical  de- 
fiance of  Qod,  and  contempt  of  his  authority.  He  has  thrown  an  air 
^  obacurity  over  a  thousand  other  things^  but  not  over  the  things  that 
make  for  your  peace.  You  are  not  left  in  any  uncertainty  as  to  the 
basis  of  hope  towards  God.  He  has  clearly  taught  you  what  you  must 
do  to  be  saved ;  how  you  may  draw  nigh  to  God,  even  to  his  seat ;  and 
throogh  what  medium  you  may  pour  out  your  hearts  before  him. 
''  Behold,  he  says,  I  lay  m  Zion  a  foundation  stone.  Other  foundation 
can  no  man  lay  than  that  which  is  laid,  Jesus  Christ.  If  any  man 
fin,  we  have  an  advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous. 
He  is  the  propitiation  for  our  sins.  Him  that  oometh  unto  me,  I  will 
ip  no  wise  oast  out."     You  know  what  is  that  path  which  will  bring 

joa  to  eternal  blessedness ; that  with  shame  and  confusion  of 

mce>  on  account  of  your  past  transgressions,  you  "  flee  for  refuge  to 
lay  hold  on  the  hope  set  before  you ; "  that  he  may  "  of  God  be  made 
UBto  yon  wisdom,  righteousness,  sanctification,  and  redemption." 
This  is  a  plain  path,  open  to  all.  "  Secret  things  belong  unto  the 
liord  our  Qod ;"  but  these  are  "  things  revealed,  that  belong  unto  us 
and  to  our  children  for  ever." '    pp.  71 — 76. 

In  the  most  admired  of  Mr.  HalFs  sermons,  and  invariably  in 
his  preaching,  Mr.  Foster  remarks,  (and  every  one  who  heard 
him  will  subscribe  to  the  justice  of  the  encomium,)  ^  there  was 
'  one  excellence  of  a  moral  kind,  in  which  few  eloquent  preachers 
*  have  ever  equalled  and  none  ever  surpassed  him, — oblivion  of 
'self: 

*  Hie  preacher  appeared  wholly  absorbed  in  his  subject,  given  up  to 
fto  possession,  as  the  single  actuating  principle  and  impulse  of  the 
aiental  achievement  which  he  was  as  if  unconsciously  performing :  as 
jf  onconBciously  ;  for  it  is  impossible  it  could  be  literally  so.  Yet,  his 
ihaorption  Mras  so  evident,  there  was  so  clear  an  absence  of  every 
bttraying  sign  of  vanity,  as  to  leave  no  doubt  that  reflection  on  him- 
telfj  the  tacit  thought,  '^  It  is  I  that  am  displaying  this  excellence  of 
nieech  ",  was  the  faintest  action  of  his  mind.  His  auditory  were  sure 
tnat  it  was  as  in  relation  to  his  subject,  and  not  to  himself,  that  he 
regarded  the  feelings  with  which  they  might  hear  him.' .  .  . 

'  The  entire  possession  and  actuation  of  his  mind  bv  his  subject, 
evident  in  every  way,  was  especially  so  by  two  signs :  First,  that  his 
delivery  was  simply  and  unconsciously  governed  by  his  mind.  When 
it  was  particularly  animated,  or  solemn,  or  pathetic,  or  indignant,  it 
was  such,  not  by  rule,  intention,  or  any  thought  of  rhetorical  fitness, 
but  in  involuntary  accordance  with  the  strain  of  the  thought  and 
feeling.  In  this  sense,  he  "  spake  as  he  was  moved  " :  and  conse- 
quently, nothing  in  his  manner  of  delivery  was  either  out  of  the  right 
place  or  in  it  by  studied  adjustment. 

'  The  other  indication  of  betag  totally  surrendered  to  the  subject, 

3q2 


504  Foster's  Character  of  HaU. 

and  borne  on  by  its  impetus  when  the  current  became  strong,  was  (ia 
perfect  contrast  to  what  is  described  above)  the  rapid  passins  by,  and 
passing  away,  of  any  striking  sentiment  or  splendid  image.  He  never 
detained  it  in  view  by  reduplications  and  amplifying  phrases,  as  if  he 
would  not  let  it  vanish  so  soon  ;  <aa  if  he  were  enamoured  of  it,  and 
wanted  his  hearers  to  be  so  for  his  sake ;  as  if  he  wished  to  stand 
awhile  conspicuous  by  its  lustre  upon  him.  It  glistened  or  flashed  a 
moment  and  was  gone. 

*  The  shining  points  were  the  more  readily  thus  hastened  away,  as 
they  intimately  belonged  to  that  which  was  passing.  They  occurred 
not  as  of  arbitrary  insertion,  but  with  the  appropriateness  of  a  natural 
relation.  However  unexpectedly  any  brilliant  idea  might  present 
itself,  its  impression  was  true  and  immediate  to  the  purpose.  Instead 
of  arresting  and  diverting  the  attention  to  itself,  as  a  thing  standing 
out,  to  be  separately  admired  for  its  own  sake,  it  fell  congenially  into 
the  train,  and  augmented  without  disturbing  the  effect.  The  fine 
passage  would,  indeed,  in  many  instances,  admit  of  being  taken  apart, 
and  would  in  a  detached  state  retain  much  of  its  beauty :  but  its 
greatest  virtue  was  in  animating  the  whole  combination  of  sentiments. 
Mr.  Hall's  imagination  always  acted  in  direct  subservience  to  his  in- 
tellectual design.'     pp.  I5S),  60. 

It  was  this  moral  feature  of  Mr.  HalFs  oratory  that  raised  it 
so  immeasurably  above  the  reach  of  servile  imitation  as  to  render 
mimic  efforts  palpably  ridiculous.     To  preach  like  Mr.  Hall,  it 
was  requisite  to  be  like  him,  and  to  be  like  him  not  so  much  in 
power  of  intellect,  as  in  this  self-absorption  in  his  theme,  this 
singleness  of  purpose,  worthy  of  being  emulated  by  preachers  of 
every  order  of  attainment.     At  times,  this  *  absorbing  seizure  of 
*  his  faculties  by  his  subject  **  appeared  to  suspend  all  distinct 
consciousness  of  the  presence  of  his  auditory.     Mr.  Foster,  con- 
necting this  circumstance  of  manner  with  the  intellectual  cha- 
racter of  his  preaching,  considers  it  to  have  operated  in  some 
respects  unfavourably,  by  withdrawing  his    attention  from  his 
hearers.     While  he  felt  a  benevolent  interest  for  the  congregation, 
as  a  general  sentiment,  which  would  at  times  manifest  itself  ex- 
pressly and  even  pathetically,  yet,   '  during  a  large  proportion  of 
his  public  exercise,  and  especially  in  the  seasons  of  highest 
excitement,  the  subject  itself^  as  a  subject,  was  the  grand  in- 
terest.    It  was  by  that  that  he  was  filled,  possessed,  and  borne 
along,  with  no  more  than  a  very  general  consciousness  of  being 
in  communication  with  an  auditory.     The  train  of  his  thoughts, 
therefore,  swept  at  a  certain  altitude,  as  it  were,  in  the  air, 
rather  than  proceeded  on  a  level  and  in  contact  with  the  people, 
in  a  series  of  arresting  inculcations  and  inquisitions.'' 
Superlatively  excellent  as  was  Mr.  Hall's  preaching,  in  many 
of  its  qualities,  Mr.  Foster  pronounces  it  to  have  been,  from  a 
defect  in  certain  important  ones,  not  the  best  *  adapted  for  salu- 
*  tary  efficacy.'*      It  was  deficient  in  closeness  and  cogency  of 


Foster's  Character  of  Hall.  506 

application  ;  it  did  not  sufficiently  discriminate  and  individualize 
human  characters ;  it  was  too  general  and  theoretic.  This  was, 
at  least,  its  usual  characteristic ;  for  occasionally,  sermons  were 
heard  from  him  ^  cast  in  the  best  imaginable  compromise  between, 

*  on  the  one  hand,  the  theoretic  speculation  and  high-pitched 
'rhetoric  to  which  he  was  addicted,  and,  on  the  other,  that 
'  recognition  of  what  men  actually  are  in  situation  and  character, 
'  to  which  his  mind  did  not  so  easily  descend.'*  From  passages 
found  in  his  writings,  it  is  inferred  that  his  conception  of  the 
most  effective  mode  of  preaching  differed  considerably  from  his 
general  practice ;  and  that  the  defects  alluded  to  partly  arose 
from  a  repugnance  to  the  kind  and  degree  of  labour  required  in 
order  to  produce  sermons  more  specifically  accommodated  to  the 
diversities  of  human  character  and  experience. 

It  may  be  consoling  to  such  persons  as  have  hitherto  felt  dis- 
hearten^, not  to  say  mortified,  at  the  overshadowing  superiority 
of  this  great  Preacher,  to  be  assiured  that  his  intellectual  strength 
did  not  give  him  a  proportionate  advantage  in  the  field  of  moral 
exertion,  but  was  in  great  measure  wasted  on  the  air.  We  cannot 
conceive  that  it  has  been  precisely  Mr.  Foster'^s  object  to  reconcile 
individuals  of  smaller  mental  stature  to  their  conscious  dimen- 
8ions ;  but  his  concession  will,  we  fear,  be  taken  advantage  of, 
beyond  what  he  might  intend,  as  implying  almost  the  inutility  of 
attainments  and  powers  such  as  Mr.  HalPs,  in  a  Christian 
preacher.     *  To  attain  high  excellence  in  a  manner  of  preaching 

*  more  useful  than  his,  though  it  requires  a  clear-sightea  faculty, 
'  disciplined  in  vigilant  and  various  exercise,  is,**  Mr.  Foster  re- 
marks, *  within  the  competence  of  a  mind  of  much  more  limited 

*  energy  and  reach  than  Mr.  HalPs  power  and  range  of  speculative 

*  thought.**  We  rejoice  to  believe  this.  Burder^s  Village  Sermons 
have  been  doubtless  more  useful,  in  a  certain  way,  than  Barrow^s ; 
and  Doddridge'^s  "  Rise ''  has  been  the  means  of  converting  more 
irreligious  persons  than  Butler''s  "  Analogy.*"  Still,  we  should  not 
think  of  estimating  the  intrinsic  value  of  the  several  works  by 
their  adaptation  to  popular  instruction.  Usefulness  is  a  vague 
tenn.  Even  the  usefulness  of  a  preacher  it  is  difficult  to  estimate, 
so  many  are  the  modes  of  usefulness.  To  be  highly  useful  to  a 
few,  who  shall  be  thereby  qualified  to  act  upon  the  many,  in  mul- 
tiplication of  the  impression  they  have  themselves  received,  is,  in 
it8  ultimate  effects,  more  than  equivalent  to  being  useful  to  a 
multitude  in  the  first  instance.  It  might  be  regretted  that  Mr. 
Hall  was  not  always  surrounded  with  an  auditory  to  whom  his 

Sle  of  preaching  would  have  been  best  adapted  to  convey 
atary  impressions ;  that  his  peculiar  powers  of  mind  were  in 
great  measure  wasted  in  the  effort  to  accommodate  himself  to  the 
illiterate  and  unthinking  portion  of  his  congregation.  But  to 
minds  of  a  certain  order,  no  man  was  adapted  to  be  so  pre- 


606  Foster's  Character  of  Hatt. 

eminently  useful ;  and  that  he  was  not  more  so,  was  tlie  findt  of 

his  hearers. 

We  should,  however,  scarcely  know  how  to  set  about  estimadng 
the  actual  usefulness  of  such  pulpit  ministrations  as  Mr.  Hair% 
in  all  the  bearings  of  their  influence.  The  Reviewer  in  the 
British  Critic  remarks  with  equal  candour  and  acuteness,  that  the 
quality  of  Mr.  HalPs  mind  which  led  to  this  abstractedness  in  his 
preaching,  ^  may  have  greatly  aided  in  the  preservation  and  com- 

*  pletion  of  his  own  personal  faith  and  holiness,  and  in  marking 

*  him  out  as  an  eiLample  of  the  blessedness  and  the  dignity  of 

*  communion  with  heavenly  things.    There  is  little  enough  of  this 

*  unworldly  quality,'*  it  is  remarked,  *  exhibited  in  the  world  at 

*  any  time  ;  and  never,  probably  was  there  less  of  it  tluin  in  the 
^  present  age In  this  light  it  is  that  men  like  Robert  Hall 

*  may  chiefly  be  considered  as  benefactors  to  their  species.    They 

*  pour  contempt  upon  that  drivelling  cant  which  associates  de- 
'  votional  feeling  with  imbecility  of  mind.  They  shew  that  re- 
'  ligion  is  fitted  to  absorb  the  grandest  capacities  of  human  na- 

*  ture.  It  may  be  the  more  general  purpose  of  God,  that  not 
^  many  wise,  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble  should  be  chosen 
^  to  glorify  his  name,  that  no  flesh  should  gloiy  in  his  presence. 

*  Nevertheless,  it  is  assuredly  an  animating  spectacle)  to  see  that 

*  the  most  prodigal  endowments  of  the  intellect  may  be  made  as 

*  pinions  to  convey  the  spirit  out  of  *^  this  mortal  coil^  to  the 

*  place  where  Christ  sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of  God*** 

In  the  powerfully  written  and  upon  the  whole  fair  and  liberal 
article  f  from  which  we  transcribe  these  beautiful  sentencesi  it  is 
curious  to  trace  the  struggle  between  generous  admiration  and 
ecclesiastical  prejudice.  There  is  one  point  of  view  in  whidi  the 
Reviewer  confesses  that  he  regards  the  reputation  of  Mr.  Hall  as 
a  preacher  with  something  like  regret :  it  may,  he  thinks,  *  tend 

*  to  confirm  that  idolatry  of  preaching  which  is  one  of  the  evils 

*  that  rushed  in  together  with  the  blessings  of  the  Reformation/ 
With  many  among  us,  preaching  is  represented  as  having  become 

*  a  sort  of  third  sacrament ;  a  sacrament,  too,  which  often  well 
^  nigh  thrusts  the  others  into  insignificance.'*  To  the  Dissenting 
communities,  ^  Preaching  is  nearly  what  Transubstantiation  was 

*  to  the  Romanists.  It  is  the  grand  instrument  with  which  they 
^  hope  to  move  the  world.^  This  is  a  strange  passage  to  proceed 
from  the  pen  of  a  Protestant  clergyman ;  but  it  indicates  the 
unhappy  influence  of  that  sacerdotal  theory  which  has  always 
led  the  Church  of  England  to  discountenance  anything  deserving 

«■»■■■  ■  ■- ■  .  ■■--.  .  ..  .|i.;i  ■»  ■■■■ 

♦  Brit.  Grit.  Xo.  XXVI.  p.  231. 

t  We  must  except  the  historical  misrepresentations  wspecting 
Cromwell^  and  the  remarks  respecting  Mr.  Uali's  earliar  pubUoUisBS, 
which  we  have  not  room  to  notice. 


Foilei^i  Charaeier  of  HaU,  WJ 

the  name  of  pulpit  oratory.     Yet,  ^faat  would  have  been  thought 
of  a  French  writer  who,  m  the  days  of  Louis  XIV.,  should  have 
deprecated  the  fame  of  Bourdaloue  or  Massillon,  because  it  might 
lend  to  encourage  *  a  demand  for  the  utterances  of  the  pulpit  ?  ^ 
In  the  preaching  of  the  evangelical  clergy,  the  Established  Church 
|;ive8  almost  the  only  signs  of  spiritual  life.    That  spiiit  of  preach- 
ing which  has  been  caught  from  Dissenting  communities,  has  alone 
ataid  in  her  aged  frame  the  progress  of  corruption.    The  greater 
part  of  her  ministers  are,  however,  still  notoriously  deficient  in 
those  AftA  which  are  requisite  for  the  office  of  a  public  teacher ; 
and  their  vapid  school-boy  essays,  read  with  professional  for- 
mality in  monotonous  tone,  are  as  unimpressive  as  they  are  empty 
of  instruction.     No  wonder  that  such  a  church  should  view  witn 
displacency  the  *  universal  craving  for  excitement  \  and  sicken 
at  the  renown  of  such  preachers  as  Hall !  To  a  writer,  intelligent 
and  candid  as  this  Reviewer,  it  ought,  however,  to  have  occurred, 
that  this  craving  for  excitement,  so  far  as  it  is  characteristic 
of  the  age,  is  not  peculiar  to  the  religious  part  of  the  community : 
it  is  seen  in  all  classes ;  and  the  demand  must  be  met.     It  is 
aurely  a  happy  circumstance,  and  one  of  which  the  Christian 
teacher  ought  gladly  to  avail  himself,  when  the  appetite  for  in- 
tellectual excitement  takes  this  direction.     Surely,  it  is  pusilla- 
nimous and  imbecile  to  deplore  that  which  may  be  tumea  to  so 
good  an  account.     If  it  be  true,  as  this  Writer  alleges,  that 

*  people  not  unfrequently  carry  with  them  into  the  church,  feel- 

*  ings  nearly  allied  to  those  which  they  carry  with  them  into  the 
'  theatre  %  it  is  at  least  well  that  such  feelings  take  the  better 
direction.  The  remark,  however,  is  most  applicable  to  those 
polite  audiences  to  whom  preaching  is  no  sacrament,  and  who 
find  their  most  pleasurable  excitement  in  the  ceremonial,  the 
spectacle  of  the  well-dressed  company,  the  breathing  organ,  and 
toe  *  decent  rite\  The  *  hope  of  recalling  the  venerable  custom 
'  of  catechising,  and  the  primitive  practice  of  simple  expository 

*  teaching  \  is  small  indeed,  where  the  craving  for  excitement  is 
fed  with  such  inane  vanities.  But  to  render  catechetical  and 
expository  teaching  more  generally  acceptable,  what  is  wanted, 
but  that  ministers  of  the  Gospel  should  be  able  catechists  and 
competent  expositors,  which  they  never  can  be  while  preaching 
itself  is  depreciated  ? 

The  reputation  of  Mr.  Hall,  founded  on  his  pulpit  eloquence, 
instead  of  having  the  effect  of  confirming  the  idolatry  of  preach- 
ing, (by  which  we  must  imderstand  converting  the  instrument 
into  the  end,  the  medium  into  the  object  of  worship,)  seems  to 
us  more  adapted  to  induce  a  melancholy  impression  of  the  in- 
efficiency of  that  means  of  promoting  the  regeneration  of  society; 
since  the  highest  order  of  faculties,  applied  to  the  single-minded 
discharge  of  the  sacred  function,  under  the  inspiration  of  fervent 


508  Foster's  Character  of  Hall. 

piety,  was  found  to  produce  no  more  extensively  decisive  results. 
It  was  surely  not  intended  by  Our  Saviour  to  reflect  the  character 
of  inefficiency  on  the  ministry  of  the  Baptist ;  when  he  reproached 
the  Jews  of  that  generation  with  their  perverseness  in  not  having 
profited  by  his  ministry ;  when  he  compared  them  to  children 
sullenly  revising  to  dance  when  their  fellows  piped,  or  to 
lament  when  they  played  the  mourner.  It  may  be  true  that 
Mr.  Hairs  general  style  of  preaching  was  not  of  a  cast  which 
would  justify  its  being  held  up  as  a  model  of  popular  instruction; 
but  his  very  faults  as  a  preacher  were  above  the  reach  of  imita- 
tion, since  they  were  allied  to  qualities  of  mind  rarely  found  in 
those  who  could  be  misled  by  his  example.  It  was  a  kind  of 
preaching  almost  sui  generis.  Of  his  printed  discourses,  it  is 
remarked  by  the  Reviewer  in  the  British  Critic,  that  ^  these, 
^  even  when  studied  without  the  advantage  of  any  personal  know- 

*  ledge  or  recollection  of  the  preacher,  must  always  be  sufficient 

*  to  *^  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man  ^,  such  as  very  rarely 

*  has  borne  the  office  of  turning  many  to  righteousness:  and  these, 

*  — when  aided  by  a  vivid  remembrance  of  his  outward  aspect  and 

*  demeanour,  his  overpowering  impressiveness  of  delivery,  and  his 

*  frequent  appearance  of  abstraction  from  all  earthly  things, — 

*  must  convey  the  notion  of  one  whose  faculties  were  merely  as 

*  channels  for  conducting  down  to  earth  the  choicest  influences  of 

*  heaven.^ 

Of  the  sermons  contained  in  the  sixth  volume,  this  Reviewer 
appears  to  speak  in  terms  of  disparagement,  which  can  be  account- 
ed for  only  on  the  supposition  of  his  not  having  found  time  to 
peruse  them.      He  deems  it  necesssary  to  *  guard  the  reader 

*  against  the  delusion  of  imagining  that  they  have  before  them  in 
^  many  of  the  feeble  sketchings  contained  in  these  volumes,  any 

*  tolerable  representation  of  the  "  dazzling  miracles  ^  of  Robert 

*  Hall.'  This  remark  is  just  as  regards  some  of  the  briefer 
sketches,  but  is  quite  inapplicable  to  the  discourses  given  with 
such  felicitous  fidelity  from  the  compared  notes  of  Mr.  Gurney, 
Mr.  Wilson,  Mr.  Grinfield,  and  other  gentlemen  accustomed  to 
track  Mr.  Hall's  *  fiery  course,'  and  well  acquainted  with  his 
phraseology.  We  have  given  above  some  specimens  of  the 
second  discourse  in  the  present  volume.  There  are  several  others 
of  an  equally  splendid  character,  and  preserved  with  similar 
success.  Mr.  Foster  refers  to  the  XVIth  Sermon,  on  the  Love 
of  God,  as  a  remarkable  example  of  'specific  illustration,  point- 

*  edly  applied,' — the  quality  in  which  Mr.  Hall's  preaching  is  re- 
presented to  have  been  ordinarily  deficient.  The  XVIIIth,  on 
the  Nature  and  Danger  of  Evil  Communications,  preached  at 
Cambridge  in  1826,  is  a  most  beautiful  specimen  of  Mr.  Hall's 
admirable  and  peculiar  method  of  treating  a  practical  subject  in  a 
philosophical  spirit,  yet  so  as  to  make  the  philosophy  of  the  dis- 


The  Bible- Printing  Monopoly,  609 

eourse  strictly  subservient  to  the  religious  lesson.  But,  indeed, 
all  the  sermons  in  this  volume  are,  without  an  exception,  highly 
characteristic  and  valuable ;  and  the  selection,  as  well  as  the  very 
careful  manner  in  which  they  are  edited,  does  great  credit  to  the 
judgement  of  the  learned  Editor  of  the  Works.  The  public  are 
mdeed  greatly  indebted  to  Dr.  Gregory  for  the  manner  in  which 
he  has  discharged  his  most  honourable  but  delicate  office,  both  as 
the  biographer  of  his  friend  and  the  superintendent  of  the  whole 
publication.  The  blame  he  has  incurred  in  certain  quarters,  for 
not  suppressing  what  the  public  would  not  have  allowed  him  to 
suppress,  even  had  there  been  any  sufficient  reason  for  the  at- 
tempt, he  will  know  how  to  appreciate.  Had  the  principle  which 
it  is  thought  he  ought  to  have  applied  to  the  published  writings 
of  Robert  Hall,  been  observed  by  the  editors  of  Warburton,  South, 
or  Burke  himself,  we  should  have  been  deprived  of  some  of  the 
finest  specimens  of  their  eloquence. 


Art.  IV.  1 .  The  exisiinor  Monopoly,  an  inadequate  Prolcction,  of  the 
Authorized  Version  of  Scripture,  By  Thomas  Curtis.  8vo.  pp.  115. 
London,  1833. 

2.  Oxford  Bibles.  Mr.  Curtis's  Misrepresentations  exposed.  By 
Edward  Cardwell,  D.D.,  St.  Alban's  Hall,  Oxford.    8vo.  pp.  23. 

3.  The  Text  of  the  English  Bible  considered.  By  Thomas  Turton, 
D.D.,  Regius  Professor  of  Divinity  in  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge, and  Dean  of  Peterborough.     8vo.  pp.  44. 

4.  Report  from  Select  Committee  on  King's  Printers*  Patents,  ordered 
by  the  House  of  Commons  to  be  printed,  8th  of  August,  1832. 
Bungay.  Reprinted  and  published  bv  J.  R.  and  C.  Childs. 
1833.     pp.111. 

nnHE  public  Version  of  the  Scriptures,  is  generally  described 
■*  as  the  *  Authorized  Version,'  though  it  would  be  difficult  to 
assign  the  grounds  on  which  the  authority  prescribing  its  exclu- 
sive circulation  is  supposed  to  rest.  No  Act  of  Parliament  was 
ever  passed  in  its  favour.  It  was  not,  we  believe,  even  so  much 
as  sanctioned  or  protected  by  any  proclamation.  It  was  under- 
taken, and,  as  the  title  to   the  Bible  declares,  was  *  with   the 

*  former  Translations  diligently  compared  and  revised',  *  by  his 

*  Majesties  speciall  commandment."  At  the  Hampton  Court 
Conference,  a  new  Translation  was  solicited  by  the  Puritan  leader, 
Dr.  Reynolds;  and  the  suggestion  being  approved  by  the  king, 
he  signified   his  pleiisure,   that  '  some   special  pains  should  be 

*  taken  in  this  matter  for  one  uniform  translation,  and  this  to  be 

*  done  by  the  best  learned  in  both  universities ;  after  them  to  be 

*  reviewed  by  the  Bishops  and  the  chief  learned  of  the  church  : 

VOL.  IX.-  -\.s.  3  a 


510  The  BMe-Printing  Monopoly. 

'  from  them  to  be  presented  to  the  priTy-council ;  and  last  of  all 

*  to  be  ratified  by  his  royal  authority ;  and  so  this  whole  church 
^  to  be  bound  to  this  translation,  and  not  to  use  any  other/  Soon 
after,  the  king  issued  his  commission  nominating  the  persons  to 
whom  the*  work  should  be  assigned,  and  prescribing  rules  for 
their  proceedings.  But  when  the  translation  was  completed  and 
published,  no  authoritative  measure  on  the  part  of  the  parliament 
or  the  king  appears  to  have  accompanied  it.  In  preceding  reigns, 
the  use  of  the  Bible  had  been  allowed  or  prohibited  by  royal 
proclamations  and  acts  of  parliament.  Henry  VIII.  by  bia  pro- 
clamation directed  the  Great  Bible  to  be  set  up  in  every  parish 
church.  The  parliament  of  1546  suppressed  Tjmdars  Bible; 
and  a  proclamation  followed,  prohibiting  the  use  of  any  other 
Bibles  than  those  which  were  allowed  by  parliament.  This  act 
was  afterwards  repealed  by  the  first  parliament  of  Edward  VI. ; 
and  proclamations  were  subsequently  issued,  relative  to  the  pos- 
session and  use  of  the  English  Bible.  But  none  of  these  pre- 
cedents seem  to  have  been  followed  in  respect  to  the  Translation 
of  1611.  In  what  manner  it  was  ratified  by  the  king^s  autho> 
rity,  does  not  appear.     *  This  whole  church 'was  certainly  not 

*  bound  to  that  Translation j**  and  ^  not  to  use  any  other,*  since 
the  Geneva  Bible  was  still  in  use,  several  editions  of  it  being 
printed  by  the  king''s  printer  subsequently  to  the  year  when  the 
New  Version  was  issued  from  the  press.  The  Act  of  Uniformity 
of  Charles  II.  does  n^t  recognize  any  particular  Translation  of 
the  Bible. 

The  exclusive  privilege  of  printing  the  Bible,  is  assumed  as  a 
vested  right  by  the  King'^s  Printer  and  the  two  Universities  of 
England,  and  by  the  King'^s  Printers  for  Scotland  and  Ireland. 
It  may  be  proper  enough  to  consider  this  exclusive  interest  as  a 
trust,  intended  to  protect  the  Translation  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
to  ensure  its  uncorrupted  transmission  ;  but  even  of  this  there  is 
no  proof.  The  privilege  was  evidently  conferred  in  the  spirit  of 
the  monopolies  which  were  supposed  to  be  dependent  on  the 
royal  prerogative.  The  monopoly,  however,  should  unquestion- 
ably be  ccmsidercd  in  reference  to  the  correctness  of  the  books, 
the  printing  of  which  it  limits.  Other  considerations  necessarily 
present  themselves  as  of  importance  on  the  question  of  the  Fa- 
tents  of  the  King'*8  Printers  and  the  claims  ot  the  English  Uni- 
versities ;  but  the  state  of  the  jiibles  in  common  use,  which  they 
have  issued,  is  the  principal  subject  which  at  present  requires  to 
be  examined.  It  may  be  of  consequence  to  inquire,  whether  the 
monopoly  does  not  enhance  the  price  of  Bibles  and  Testaments, 
which  might,  it  is  presumed,  be  sold  at  less  cost  if  there  were  no 
restrictions  on  the  preparation  and  sale  of  the  printed  Scriptures ; 
but  the  integrity  and  fidelity  of  the  copies  at  present  circulated 


The  Bible-Printing  Monopoly,  511 

from  the  privileged  presses,  are  of  greater  moment  than  their 
cheapness. 

No  persons  acquainted  with  the  process  of  printing  will  expect 
perfect  accuracy  in  any  extensive  work.  Immaculate  editions  of 
a  book  are  extremely  rare :  and  in  some  works  which  have  been 
thus  designated,  errors  have  been  detected.  It  does,  however, 
seem  to  be  too  plain  a  case  to  allow  of  successful  dispute,  that 
many  editions  of  the  English  Translation  of  James  I.  have  been 
very  carelessly  superintended.  We  have  been  accustomed  to  note 
the  errata  of  the  public  Version  in  the  copies  used  by  ourselves, 
which  we  have  found  exhibiting  very  different  marks  of  the  skill 
and  diligence  of  the  editors.  In  some  of  these,  the  errors  are 
few  and  unimportant ;  but  in  others,  the  faults  are  more  serious,  and 
reflect  no  credit  on  the  persons  entrusted  with  the  final  revisal  of 
the  copy.  *  Jerusalem  the  prophet  ^  is  a  strange  reading,  which  we 
have  noted  in  an  edition  of  1793,  in  Daniel  ix.  2.  The  same 
Bible  has,  *  The  Lord  at  the  right  hand.'  Ps.  ex.  5.  *  I  will 
'  spare  them  as  a  man  spareth  his  own  son  that  serveth  them/ 
JMialachi  iii.  17*  ^  When  he  shall  come  in  his  only  glory .**  Luke 
ix.  26.     *  — ^purifying  their  hears  by  faith.'  Acts  xv.  9.     '  Thou 

*  that  may  est  thy  boast.'  Rom.  ii.  23.     Mt  is  so,  that  there  is 

*  not  a  wise  man  among  you  ? '  1  Cor.  vi.  5.     *  — was  once  suf- 

*  fered  to  bear.'  Heb.  ix.  28.  *  — serving  against  sin.'  Chap.  xii. 
4 ;  with  others  less  remarkable.  A  copious  list  of  typographical 
errors  might  without  much  difficulty  be  obtained  from  a  collation 
of  Bibles,  and  others  of  greater  moment  might  be  included;  but 
it  would  then  be  a  question,  to  what  extent  they  vitiate  the  text 
of  Scripture.  The  array  would  look  formidable ;  and  if  all  the 
errors  were  found  in  one  copy,  if  any  particular  edition  were  so 
deformed,  we  should  not  hesitate  to  repudiate  it  as  disgraceful, 
and  wish  it  to  be  suppressed.  But  the  case  is  very  different, 
when  we  compare  the  errata  with  the  number  of  editions,  and 
limit,  as  we  ought  to  do,  our  consideration  of  the  alterations  thus 
introduced  into  the  text,  to  the  copy  of  the  Scriptures  in  our 
hands.  Dr.  Cardwell,  in  reference  to  a  list  of  errors  published 
by  Mr.  Curtis,  remarks,  that  the  fifty-six  mistakes,  ^  some  of  im- 

*  portance,'  and  others  '  totally  unimportant,'  which  he  has 
brought  forward,  are  collected  from  eleven  different  editions,  so 
that  the  result  of  this  examination  is,  that  the  Oxford  Bibles  in 
question  contain  on  an  average  five  errors  of  the  press.  (Oxford 
Bibles,  p.  15.)  This  is  certainly  far  from  any  very  blameable 
excess  of  errors  in  so  large  a  work.  Our  own  opinion,  however, 
from  our  acquaintance  with  such  copies  as  have  been  used  by  us, 
would  be,  in  respect  to  the  less  recently  printed  Bibles,  not  so 
favourable.  In  more  recent  times  and  at  present,  the  ioiprove* 
ments  which  the  Bibles  issued  from  the  privileged  press  exhibit, 
are  in  all  respects  very  great. 

3r2 


512  ne  Bible-Printing  Monopoly. 

In  his  evidence  before  the  Committee  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, Dr.  Lee  states,  that  some  of  the  most  incorrect  editions  of 
the  Bible  which  have  come  under  his  notice,  have  been  printed  in 
Scotland ;  and  afterwards  he  remarks,  that  there  mre  aevenl 
cases  in  which  he  thinks  the  Scottish  editions  preferable  to  the 
English  ones.  Of  this  supposed  superiority,  however,  he  pro- 
duces only  one  example.  *  In  the  tenth  chapter  of  the  Gospd 
^  according  to  John,^  he  observes,  *  in  all  the  English  editions  I 

*  have  seen,  "  no  man*"  occur  repeatedly,  where  in  the  Scottisii 

*  editions  "  none  '^  is  introduced :  the  word  "  man  ^  is  not  in  the 

*  original  at  all,  and  the  word  ^^  nonc^  is  preferable,  inasrondi  ts 

*  it  may  be  held  to  be  a  declaration  that  no  created  being,  though 

*  higher  than  human,  has  the  power.^  We  cannot  in  course  es- 
timate the  comparative  value  of  the  Scottish  Bibles  from  the 

*  several  cases  ^  to  which  Dr.  L.  refers  as  shewing  their  superioiitv, 
since  he  has  not  particularly  described  them  ;  but  if  they  are  it 
all  similar  to  the  single  specimen  which  he  has  above  given,  the 
character  of  them  is  at  once  decided,  since  in  this  example  he  is 
altogether  in  error.  We  shall  shew  the  state  of  the  question  thm 
raised,  by  a  collktion  of  some  of  the  editions  before  us  in  the 
passages  of  John'^s  Gospel.  The  early  English  editions  read,  in 
chap.  X.,  "  No  man  taketh  it  from  me.*"  vs.  18.  "  — ^neither  shall 
any  man  pluck  them  out  of  my  hand/'*  28.  ^^  — no  man  is  able 
to  pluck  them  out  of  my  Fatber'^s  hand.*"  29.  The  modern 
editions,  Carab.  1805,  1819,  1823 ;  Oxford,  1793,  1830 ;  Lon- 
don, 1825,  1829,  have,  "  No  man— any  man — ^no  manJ^  But 
in  the  London  edition  of  1679,  and  in  the  Oxford  Quarto,  1765, 
the  readings  are,  ^^  No  man  taketh  it  from  me — neither  sludl  any 
pluck  them — none  is  able  to  pluck  them.*" 

Mr.  Curtis  has  furnished  (at  p.  86)  a  list  of  *  typographical 

*  errors  in  and  since  Dr.  Blayney's  edition.''  In  this  list,  a  read- 
ing appears  as  of  an  Oxford  Testament  of  I8O7,  *  P^^gc  your 

*  conscience  from  good  works,'  instead  of '  dead  works.*  Heb.  ix. 
14.     From   Dr.  Cardwell  we  learn  (Oxford  Bibles,  p.  15),  that 

*  a  copy  of  this  edition  had  been  sought  for  in  vain  ;  that  another 

*  edition  of  the  same  year,  two  of  the  following,  and  all  editions 

*  that  could  be  found  of  eleven  years  nearest  to  the  time  in  ques- 

*  tion,  had  been  examined,  and  the  passage  was  printed  correctly 

*  in  them  all.'  In  this  list,  p.  90,  Blayney's  Bible,  Oxford, 
1769,  is  described  as  reading  1  John  i.  4. — ^^That  our  joy,  for 
"  your  joy  may  be  full.''  And  this  erroneous  reading  is  said  to 
be  ^  traced  in  twenty  editions  of  various  sizes,  and  by  all  the 

*  authorized  Printers,  to  Cambridge  12mo.  1824,  i.  ^*  Jifiy^te 

*  years,''  The  error  is  in  Blayney,  but  in  Cambridge  Testaments 
before  us  of  1805  and  1819,  the  true  reading,  *  your  joy,**  is  cer- 
tainly to  be  found. 

In  Mr.  Curtis's  *  Advertisement'  to  the  pamphlet  before  us,  the 


Tlie  Bible-Printing  Monopoly.  513 

reader  will  find  the  startling  proposition  aiBrmedy  that  the  ^  Di- 

*  vine  command^  to  search  the  Scriptures,  cannot^  in  the  present 
state  of  our  Bibles,  be  complied  with  so  advantageously,  by  the 
British  public,  as  it  might  have  been  two  hundred  years  ago. 
On  the  reverse  of  his  title-page  he  has  printed  a  list  of  *  Inten- 

*  tional  departures  from  King  James's  Bible,'  amounting  in  num- 
ber to  upwards  of  two  thousand  nine  hundred,  suggesting,  he 
reftiarks,  the  presumption  that  there  are  upwards  of  eleven  thou- 
sand  in  the  entire  version.  In  this  calculation  the  general 
alterations  of  the  orthography  and  minute  punctuation  are  not 
included.  In  a  modern  octavo  or  nonpareil  Bible,  there  are 
about  eight  hundred  and  fifty  pages,  so  that  every  page  of  our 
modem  Bibles  will  be  supposed  to  contain  on  an  average  thirteen 
errors.  Such  statements  as  these  cannot  be  read  without  alarm, 
as  they  must  necessarily  induce  suspicion  of  the  integrity  of  the 
text  to  an  extent  subversive  of  the  confidence  with  which  un- 
learned persons,  accustomed  to  read  the  Scriptures  only  in  the 
public  version,  should  receive  the  volume  purporting  to  be  a  faith- 
fill  representation  of  the  Hebrew  and  Greek  originals.  It  is  not 
to  be  supposed  that  common  readers  will  be  able  to  determine  the 
character  of  these  alleged  alterations ;  because,  as  on  the  one 
hand  they  are  not  produced,  so,  on  the  other,  it  is  not  to  be  ima- 
gined that  the  collation  of  copies  is  within  the  means  or  the  com- 
petency of  readers  in  general.  The  Authorized  Version  has  of  late 
years  been  most  widely  circulated.  Not  only  have  many  thou- 
sands of  copies  been  distributed  in  all  directions,  but  some  mil- 
lions of  Bibles  and  Testaments  have  been  sent  forth  for  the  use  of 
persons  who  have  no  other  access  to  the  sources  of  sacred  know- 
ledge, than  that  which  is  afforded  to  them  by  these  substitutes  for 
the  original  Scriptures.  A  most  serious  injury  must  therefore  be 
received  by  those  who  use  these  Bibles,  if,  from  any  impressions 
forced  upon  them  by  statements  which  they  can  neither  examine 
nor  appreciate,  they  continue  to  peruse  them  with  distrust,  and 
are  in  constant  doubt  what  to  accredit  as  genuine,  and  what  to 
rdect  as  unfaithful  or  spurious.  Every  one  who  knows  the  value 
of  the  Scriptures,  must  feel  the  weight  of  Dr.  CardwelPs  remarks 
in  the  introductory  paragraphs  of  his  *  Letter.** 

'  In  my  estimation,  there  is  nothing  more-deserving  of  respect  and 
protection,  than  the  honest  confidence  with  which  an  unlettered  pea- 
sant looks  upon  his  English  Bible  as  expressing  to  him  the  genuine 
word  of  God.  Take  merely  the  blessings  that  Bible  affords  to  one 
single  individual,  the  fortitude  it  imparts  to  him  in  his  moments  of 
temptation^  and  the  calmness  it  gives  to  days  and  nights  of  sickness 
and  sorrow,  and  there  is  an  amount  of  virtue  inspired  by  it,  which  has 
never  been  equalled  by  any  other  instrument  of  happiness.  But  con- 
sider also  the  multitude  of  places  where  such  individuals  may  be 
founds  follow  our  language  into  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  and  sec 


514  The  Bible-Printing  Monopoly* 

that  its  constant  companion,  and  in  many  caaea  the  onlj  inHtnictor 
that  it  brings  with  it,  is  the  English  Bible ;  and  it  will  be  manifest, 
that  no  limit  can  be  assigned  to  the  importance  of  translating  the 
Scriptures  faithfullv*  and  preserving  that  translation^  as  £ir  as  may 
be,  pure  and  undefiled.' 

On  the  behalf,  then,  of  unlearned  readers,  and  for  the  sake  of 
many  others,  who,  not  being  destitute  altogether  of  the  necessary 
information  for  determining  the  question  of  fidelity  in  respect  to  the 
English  Bibles  in  common  use,  may  not  have  the  means  of  veri- 
fying or  refuting  the  allegations  which  charge  corruptions  so  ex- 
tensively vitiating  the  authorized  text,  it  is  proper  that  they 
should  be  brought  under  the  consideration  of  those  tribunals  to 
which  the  public  are  accustomed  to  look  for  decisions  in  matters 
of  so  grave  a  character.  If  many  thousands  of  errors  are  dif- 
fused throughout  our  modem  Bibles ; — ^if,  so  far  as  the  English 
text  of  the  English  Bible  is  in  question,  we  clearly  have  all  our 
modem  Bibles  printed  after  copies  of  no  authority,  or  af^r  bad 
or  erroneous  authorities,  with  the  important  exception  of  what 
remains  of  the  Authorized  Version  itself;  (and  how  much  of  that  re- 
mains would  seem  to  be  doubtful;)  we  should  be  guilty  of  dereliction 
of  our  duty,  if  we  hesitated  to  denounce  evils  of  such  magnitude, 
and  which  might  involve  such  perils.  If,  to  the  poor,  the  BiUe 
which  is  in  their  hands  be  not  a  trust- worthy  book,  to  which  they 
may  look  with  most  assured  satisfaction  that  they  are  not  misled 
in  the  sentiments  and  feelings  of  their  faith  and  hope,  it  is  more 
than  time  to  warn  them  of  the  delusions  by  which  they  have 
been  led  astray  in  their  judgements,  and  deceived  and  abuaed  in 
their  confidence. 

It  would  indeed  be  a  ground  of  most  serious  complaint,  and 
could  not  fail  of  furnishing  matter  of  grave  accusation  against 
parties  who  have  had  the  ordering  of  their  Bibles,  if  humble  and 
serious  inquirers  of  the  present  day  could  not,  with  those  books 
open  before  them,  obey  the  Divine  injunction  which  directs  them 
to  the  examination  of  the  Scriptures,  with  as  much  advantage  as 
was  possessed  by  readers  of  the  Bible  two  hundred  years  affo. 
Has  the  stone  been  rolled  back  upon  the  welFs  mouth,  that  toe 
living  waters  can  no  more  be  drawn  from  them  as  in  other  times  ? 
Have  briars  and  thorns  been  set  around  it,  to  become  a  thicket  im- 
pervious, or  rendering  access  to  the  salubrious  element  perilous 
and  difficult  ?  Or  are  the  footmarks  worn  out,  by  which  tne  path 
was  so  easily  traced  by  former  travellers  ?  Tne  circumstances 
from  which  arise  the  disadvantages  to  modern  readers  of  the  Bible, 
that  place  them  so  unfavourably  for  the  acquisition  of  the  know- 
ledge contained  in  it,  compared  with  others  of  a  much  earlier 
time,  are  to  be  learned  from  Mr.  Curtis'^s  statements,  and  parti- 
cularly from  the  Report  of  a  Sub-Committee  of  Dissenting  Minis- 


The  Bihle-Printing  Moftopoly.  616 

terfi,  which  yre  must  now  present  to  our  readers,  as  we  find  it  in 
his  pamphlet,  p.  114. 

'  Present— Dr.  Bennett,  Dr.  Cox,  and  Dr.  Henderson,  a  Sub- 
Committee  appointed  to  verify  and  report  upon  a  Collation  of  various 
editions  of  the  Holy  Bible,  made  by  the  Secretary. — Dr.  Smith, 
though  not  of  the  Sub-Committee^  kindly  assisting  in  the  investigation^ 
it  was 

'  Resolved,  1.  That  this  Committee  are  perfectly  satisfied  that  an 
extensive  alteration  has  been  introduced  into  the  text  of  our  Autho- 
rised Version,  by  changing  into  Italics  innumerable  words  and  phrases, 
which  are  not  thus  expressed  in  the  original  editions  of  King  James's 
Bible,  printed  in  1611. 

*  2.  That  these  alterations,  so  far  from  being  an  improvement  of  our 
Vernacular  Translation,  greatly  deteriorate  it ;  inasmuch  as,  in  most 
instances,  they  convey  to  the  reader  the  idea  that,  wherever  any  words 
are  printed  in  Italics,  there  is  nothing  corresponding  to  them  in  the 
original  text  :  whereas  it  must  at  once  be  obvious  to  every  person  who 
is  competent  to  judge  on  the  question,  that  what  has  been  sup- 
plied in  these  instances,  was  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  give  the 
full  force  of  the  Hebrew  and  Greek  idioms ;  anS,  consequently,  should 
have  been  printed  in  the  same  characters  as  the  rest  of  the  text. 

'  3.  That  those  wlio  have  made  these  alterations,  have  discovered  a 
great  want  of  critical  taste,  unnecessarily  exposed  the  sacred  text  to 
the  scoffs  of  intidels,  and  thrown  such  stumbling-blocks  in  the  way  of 
the  unlearned,  as  are  greatly  calculated  to  perplex  their  minds,  and 
unsettle  their  confidence  in  the  text  of  Scripture. 

'  4.  That  it  be  recommended  to  the  General  Committee,  to  take  such 
measures  as  they  shall  deem  most  likely  to  effect  a  speedy  return  to 
the  Standard  text,  which  has  thus  wantonly  been  abandoned  ;  but  that 
it  is  expedient  to  wait  till  the  reprint  of  the  edition  of  1611,  now 
printing  at  Oxford,  be  before  the  public,  ere  any  further  correspon- 
dence be  entered  upon  with  the  Universities. 

(Signed)         '  E.  HENDERSON. 
•  F.  A.  COX. 
'  J.  BENNETT.' 

King  James^'s  Translators  have  prefixed  an  address  to  the 
readers  of  their  Bible,  in  which  they  vindicate  the  undertaking 
completed  by  them,  and  state  many  particulars  in  respect  to 
their  proceedings  in  preparing  it.  On  the  subject  of  Italics, 
however,  they  have  not  given  us  any  information.  Some  readers 
of  the  preceding  resolutions  would  be  apt  to  conclude,  that  the 
Bible  of  1611  was  without  Italics,  or  characters  answering  to 
Italics.  This,  however,  is  not  the  case;  for  though,  strictly  speak- 
ing, the  Translators  do  not  employ  Italics,  they  frequently  have 
pnnted  words  and  phrases  in  a  distinguishing  type.  The  letter 
of  the  edition  of  1611  is  a  large  black  one,  and  the  passages  dis- 
tinguished from  the  other  ]K)rtions  of  the  text,  are  printed  in  Ro- 
man letters.     The  Translators,  doubtless,  had  their  reasons  for 


516  Tlie  Bible-Printing  Monopoly. 

such  occasional  deviations.  They  did  indeed  but  follow  the  mode 
of  printing  adopted  by  their  predecessors.  In  the  Bibles  of 
Henry  VII  I. "s  time,  we  find  passages  in  parentheses  and  in  smaller 
type,  which  have  nothing  corresponding  to  them  in  the  original, 
but  were  introduced  as  readings  from  the  Vulgate,  thus :  *  And 

*  beholde,  it  is  written  in  the  hoVe  of  the  righteous.  (And  be  takl: 

*  Consydre,  O  Iirael,  these  that  be  dead  and  wounded  upon  thy  hie  billet.) 
« O  noble  Israel  the  wounded  are  slaine  upon  thy  hylles.*  2  Sam. 
i.  18,  19.  *  Oh  let  my  mouth  be  filled  with  prayse  (tbati  maye 
tynge  of  thy  glory)  and  honoure  all  the  daye  long.^  Ps.  Ixxi.  8. 
The  Geneva  Bible  has  many  words  and  phrases  distinguished  by 
a  type  different  from  the  ordinary  letter ;  and  in  reference  to  such 
cases,  the  Translators  say  in  their  preface :  *  Whereas  the  neces- 

*  sitic  of  the  sentence  recjuired  any  thing  to  be  added  (for  such  is 
^  the  grace  and  proprietie  of  the  Ebrewe  and  Greeke  tongues, 

*  that  it  cannot  but  cither  by  circumlocution,  or  by  adding  the 

*  verbe,  or  some  word  be  understood  of  them  that  are  not  well 

*  practised  therein,)  we  have  put  it  in  the  text  with  another  kinde 

*  of  letter,  that   it  may  easily  be  discerned  from  the  common 

*  letter.'  Thus  we  have,  *  Salvation  belongetb  unto  the  Lord.* 
Fs.  iii.  8.  ^ — answere  mee  in  saving  me  from  the  homes  of  the 
^  unicornes/   ^  My  prayse  shall  be  of  thee/  For  the  kingdomeit  the 

*  Lords'*  Ps.  xxii.   21,  25,  28.     King  James'^s  Translators  have 

1)rintcd  the  text  of  their  Bible,  using  Italics  instead  of  smaller 
ctters,  in  a  similar  manner ;  but  an  examination  of  it  will  shew 
many  irregularities  in  the  application  of  their  rules,  and  some  in- 
stances of  the  deviation  in  question  are  of  a  very  anomalous  cha- 
racter. We  shall  give  a  few  specimens  of  the  inconstant  read- 
ings furnished  by  a  collation  of  the  edition  of  1611.   Gen  xxii.  2. 

*  thy  Sonne,  thine  only  sonne,''  vs.  16,  *  thy  sonne,  thine  only  sonne.* 
In  the  original,  the  expressions  are  precisely  the  same ;  but 
the  Translators  have,  in  the  first  of  these  examples,  printed 
the  second  instance  of  the  word  sonne  in  a  manner  corre- 
sponding to  the  use  of  the  modern  Italics.  So,  in  Gen.  xxiv. 
19,  the  reading  is,  *  draw  water,'  where  no  word  occurs  in  the 
original  answering  to  the  noun  ^  water  i*  but,  in  the  following 
verse,  where  the  same  mode  of  expression  is  used  in  the  Hebrew 
text,  the  supplied  word  is  marked,  *  to  draw  tcaferJ*  In  Chap. 
xxxvii.   13,  we    have,    *  feed  the    flocke;'  vs.   16,    *fced    their 

Jl(icke^;''  the  Hebrew  expressions  in  each  case  being  the  same. 

*  And  Abraham  planted  a  grove.**  Gen.  xxi.  33.  *  Joseph 
*went  into  the  house."  Chap,  xxxix.  11.  The  nominatives 
are  wanting  in  the  Hebrew  text  in  both  examples,  yet  the  trans- 
lation of  Kill,  marks  the  one  as  implied,  and  the  other  as  ex- 
pressed. In  Matt,  xxvii.  46,  the  Translators  have  distin- 
ffuished  by  their  peculiar  type  the  entire  sentence,  *  Eli,  Eli, 
lama  sahachthani  \    but  in    Mark  xv.  31*,  the  parallel  passage 


The  Bible-PnnHng  Jlionapohf.  517 

M  printed  in  tbe  ordinary  letters,  the  two  cases  being  alike  in  the 
Greek  Testament. 

We  shall  now  notice  some  of  the  passages  brought  forward  by 
Mr.  Curtis  as  instances  of  the  depravation  of  the  text  by  Italics 
inserted  in  the  modem  Bibles.  ^  In  not  a  few  of  these  instances, 
'  God^s  ofispring  hare  been  bastardised/  Such  is  the  language 
applied  by  Mr.  Curtis  to  ^  these  transmutations/  A  list  of  pas- 
sages is  produced  by  him,  (p.  62.)  *  in  all  of  which\  it  is  af- 
firmed, *  the  words  falsely  put  into  Italics  are  as  much  in  the 

*  original,  as  a  man^s  money  is  in  his  pocket,  when  it  is  not  seen.^ 
Let  us  consider  the  following  cases. 

'Gen.  XX.  17* — '^And  they  bare  ckUdren"  From  a  Hebrew  verb 
signifying  to  bear  a  child  (Gcsenius) ;  not  bare  burdens^  evil  usage,  or 
aay  thing  of  a  more  general  nature.' 

The  objection  here  is,  that  the  verb  ^^^  is  used  in  Hebrew  only 
to  denote  the  bringing  of  children  into  the  world,  and  that,  there- 
fore, the  text  of  the  Translators  has  been  corrupted  by  the  inser- 
tion of  the  word  in  Italics  by  the  modem  editors  of  the  Bible ; 
and  the  assumption  is,  that,  in  the  Bible  of  1611,  the  usage  is 
invariably  observed  of  printing  the  phrase  without  any  distinction 
of  letters.  Such,  however,  is  not  the  case,  llie  Translators 
have  used  the  very  mode  of  treating  the  text,  which  Mr.  Curtis  so 
unceremoniously  reprehends.  Gen.  vi.  4.  * — they  bare  children,'' 
Chap.  xvii.  I7.     *  Shall  a  child  be  borne ?^ 

Gen.  xxiv.  52. — "  Worshipped,  bowine  himself  to  the  earth.'*  Not 
bowing  to  the  earth,  but  bowmg  his  whcHe  person  in  the  entire  pros- 
tration of  the  east,  to  God.' 

We  have  some  difficulty  in  understanding  precisely  the  nature 
<^  the  objection  as  here  stated.  We  cannot  find  in  any  Bible 
accessible  to  us  the  reading  as  here  inserted  by  Mr.  Curtis.  All 
cur  modem  editions  read :  ^  he  worshiped  the  LORD,  bowing 
^himself  to  the  earth.'  The  Bibles  of  1611,  1613,  and  all  the 
early  ecUtions  have  the  reading,  ^  he  worshipped  the  LORD,  bow* 

*  ing  himself  to  the  earth.**  The  exact  rendering  of  the  Hebrew 
text  is,  *  he  bowed  himself  to  the  earth  to  Jehovah.'*  HlTlK  ^^^\tff*^ 

ntn  V  Iq  other  instances,  the  phrase  appears  in  a  more  com- 
plete form,  inn«n  nxn*  vis  ^];  'jam,  and  he  fell  on  his  face  and 
worshipped.  In  Gen.  xxvi.  52,  the  Translators  had  rendered  the 
whole  original  phrase  adequately  and  properly,  by  the  words  *  he 

*  worshipped  the  LORD ;'  but,  intending  to  preserve  the  idiom, 
they  translated  more  copiously,  and  marked  by  the  change  of  let- 
ter the  peculiarity  of  the  expression.  Why  the  Translators  did 
not  mark  *  himself,**  as  well  as  ^  bowing,**  we  cannot  conjecture ; 
but  the  modem  Bibles  present  the  passage  in  a  form  which  can* 
not  be  with  any  propriety  described  as  a  corruption  of  their  ver- 
sion. 

VOL.  IX. — N.  s.  3  s 


518  The  Bible-Printing  Mmopoly. 

'  Liev.  xxiv.  10.—"  This  sou  of  an  Isniclitish  woman:"  meaniiiff  an 
Israel  itess,  and  because  he  had  a  fother  of  a  different  nation  ;  thus;, 
perhaps,  accounting  for  his  blasphemy.  The  Helirew  word  strictly 
marks  the  sex,  which  "  Israelitish*'  alone  would  not.' 

In  his  list  B.  p.  95,  Mr.  Curtis  again  adduces  this  passage. 
*  '^  Israelitish  wom<in.'^  An  Israelitess.  Her  father  being  an 
Egyptian  (!)' 

In  Lev.  xxiv.  10,  11.  the  words  'Israelitish  woman/  occur 
three  times  in  the  Bible  of  1611 :  in  the  first  and  third  instances, 
the  full  phrase  a])pear8,  n^Stntf^^  nvie;  in  the  second  example,  the 
last  of  these  words  is  wanting  in  the  original.  In  these  circuni. 
stances,  the  introduction  into  the  text  of  the  modern  Bibles,  of 
the  term  ^  Israelitess,"  would  have  been  an  inconj^ity  in  vs.  10; 
and  as  ^  Israelitish "  alone  would  have  been  an  improprietjf  the 
word  added  by  the  Translators  is  put  in  the  Italic  character,  to 
signify  its  absence  from  the  original  text :  it  appears  so  marked 
in  the  edition  of  1079,  and,  in  this  form,  is  not  in  any  respect 
a  violation  of  the  rules  followed  by  King  Jameses  Translatois.  In 
Dr.  Turton'*8  tract,  the  cases  which  Mr.  Curtis  has  adduced  are 
nut  brought  under  examination ;  but  he  has  noticed  the  vhole  of 
those  which  are  cited  by  the  Sub-Committee,  and  submitted  them 
to  the  test  of  a  judicious  and  very  satisfactory  criticism. 

Throughout  the  Bible  of  1611,  every  part  of  speech  is  found, 
in  instances  almost  innumerable,  distinguished  by  being  printed 
in  a  character  different  from  the  letter  generally  used  in  the 
volume  :  the  copula^  verbs,  nouns,  pronouns,  prepositions,  and 
particles  of  connection,  are  all  of  frequent  occurrence ;  so  are 
phrases  as  well  as  single  words.  \Vc  snail  now  quote  firom  Dr. 
Turton's  able  and  instructive  tract. 

'  WliVj  it  is  natural  to  ask,  have  such  words  and  phrases  been  thss 
distinguisliod  by  the  mode  in  which  they  arc  printed?  The  answer ii 
easy.  On  examining,  in  the  Hebrew  and  Greek  originals,  the  psi- 
sagos  in  which  tlie  words  occur,  it  is  universally  found,  that  there  are 
no  words  strictly  corresponding  to  them  in  those  originals.  It  n, 
therefore,  manifestly  on  this  account,  that  words  so  circumstanced  hsw 
lieen  distinguished  by  a  peculiar  type.  •  .  Arc  we  then  to  conclude  tint 
///('  meaning  is  in  such  cases  imi)erfectlv  expressed  in  the  original  ka- 
guages  ?  Far  from  it.  Considering,  for  a  moment,  the  Hebreir  and 
Greek  as  living  languages,  the  sentiments  would  be  perfectly  intdliai- 
ble  to  those  to  whoui  they  were  addressed.  The  expresainn  mi^  k 
more  or  less  full ;  but  the  idiom  would  still  be  familiar.  £ven  taking 
the  Hebrew  and  Greek  as  dead  languages,  the  elliptical  breyity  of  ex- 
pression (at  least,  what  appears  such  to  us)  is,  to  men  of  wanuii^ 
not  always  ])r<Kliictive  of  obscurity.  But  when  a  translation  fron 
IIei)rew  or  Greek  into  English  is  attempted,  it  is  frequently  quite  in- 
jMwsible  to  convey,  to  the  English  reader,  the  full  significaticm  of  the 
original^  without  employing  more  words  than  the  original  contaiaSi 


The  Bible-Printing  Monopoly.  519 

Wlien>  therefore,  our  Translators  distinguished  particular  words  in  the 
manner  already  described^  they  did  not  intend  to  indicate  any  devia- 
tion from  the  meaning  of  the  original,  any  diminution  of  its  force;  but 
rather  to  point  out  a  difference  of  idiom.  Their  first  object,  un- 
doubtedly, was  to  express  in  intelligible  English  what  they  believed 
to  be  the  full  signification  of  a  sentence ;  and  their  next  object  appears 
to  have  been,  to  point  out  such  words  as  had  been  required  in  addition 
to  those  of  the  original,  for  the  complete  development  of  the  meaning. 
•  .  .  The  foregoing  observations  may,  for  the  present,  be  sufficient  to 
mfibrd  some  general  notions  of  the  intentions  of  our  Translators^  in  this 
by  no  means  unimportant  matter. 

*  Although  the  principle  above  explained,  respecting  words  and 
phrases  in  Italics,  was  undoubtedly  adopted  by  our  Translators,  we  can 
acaroely  expect  that  it  should  never  have  been  departed  from,  in  the 
actual  printing  of  so  large  a  work  as  the  Bible,  at  so  early  a  period.  It 
was,  indeed,  departed  from  in  many  cases ;  and  attempts  have  subse- 
quently been  made  to  carry  the  principle  more  completely  into  effect, 
by  applying  it  to  various  words  which  appeared,  in  the  text  of  1611, 
in  the  ordinary  character.'    pp.  4,  5. 

We  cannot  transfer  into  our  pages  the  several  passages  which 
tbe  Sub-Committee  have  put  on  record  as  proofs  of  the  modern 
depravations  of  the  Bible,  and  which  Mr.  Curtis  has  classed  with 
his  extracts  in  bis  list  of  intentional  departure  from  the  text  of 
1611 ;  but  the  importance  of  the  subject  requires  that  we  should 
lay  before  our  readers  some  specimens  of  the  clear  statements  and 
illustrative  remarks  comprised  in  Dr.  Turton's  examinations, 
•which  are  restricted  to  the  texts  produced  by  the  Sub-Com- 
mittee. 

*  Gev.  i.  9,  10.  ''  Let  the  dry  land  appear:  and  it  was  so.  And 
God  called  the  dry  land.  Earth."  The  objection  here  is,  that  in  the 
modem  editions  of  the  Bible,  the  word  ''  land"  is  printed  in  Italics, 
the  same  word  being  printed,  in  the  text  of  IGll,  in  the  ordinarv 
character. 

*  The  Hebrew  word  translated  "  dry  land  "  is  derived  from  a  root 
aignifVing  *^  to  be  dry ;"  and  itself  signifies  "  the  dry."  The  adjective 
IS  applied  by  Ezekiel  (xxxvii.  4)  as  an  epithet  to  the  bones  of  the 
dead :  "  O  ye  dry  bones,  hear  ye  the  word  of  the  Lord."  The  precise 
meaning  of  an  abstract  term  of  this  kind  must  be  determined  by  the 
context.  In  this  way,  the  Hebrews  constantly  use  their  adjectives 
alone,  as  we  use  substantives  connected  with  adjectives ;  the  substan- 
tives actually  referred  to  being  decided  by  the  circumstances  of  the 
case.  In  the  passage  under  consideration,  the  meaning  is  clear  :  "  Let 
the  waters  under  the  heaven  be  gathered  together  unto  one  place,  and 
let  the  dry  Pand]  appear."     "  Land"  indeed  is,  in  point  of  fact,  sup- 

flied;  there  being  no  corresponding  term  in  the  Hebrew.  The 
lebrew  word  is,  in  the  Septuagint,  rendered  by  ^  {»3^a,  and  in  the 
Vulgate  by  arida ;  which  words  are,  in  their  respective  languages, 
used  in  very  nearly  the  same  manner  as  the  Hebrew  word  correspond- 
ing to  them.  ...     On  the  whole,  it  appears  to  me,  that  when  "  land" 

3s2 


£90  The  BibU^PrkMng  Monopoly. 

is  marked  by  Italics  in  the  modern  editions,  they  are  ftmod  en  the 
general  rule  which  the  Translators  seem  to  have  prescribed  to  them* 
selves.  In  illustration  of  this  point,  2  Kincs  ii.  21,  may  bedtcd: 
*'  there  shall  not  be  from  thence  any  more  death  or  barren  land.'* 
'  Gen.  v.  24.  *'  And  he  was  not,  for  Ood  took  him." 
'  The  word  **  was  "  has  no  corresponding  term  in  the  original ;  and 
in  consequence  it  has  been  printed  in  Italics  in  the  modem  editions. 
The  principle  on  which  this  has  been  here  done  is  snfficiently  reoog- 
nized  by  the  text  of  1611  in  other  passages.  <'  The  eye  of  him  that 
hath  seen  me,  shall  see  me  no  more ;  thine  eyes  art  upon  me,  and  I 
am  not."  Job.  vii.  8 ; — ''  For  yet  a  little  while,  and  the  wicked  shaU 
not  he  :  yea  thou  shalt  diligently  consider  his  place,  and  it  A/all  md  be." 
Ps.  xxxvii.  10; — *'  As  the  whirlwind  passeth,  so  u  the  widced  no 
more."  Prov.  x.  25 ; — "  Our  fathers  have  sinned  and  are  not.'*  Sam. 

T.7. 

'  Gen.  vi.  16.     *'  Lower,  second  and  third  stories.*' 

*  "  Stories  "  in  Italics  is  perfectly  correct ;  there  being  no  word  oor* 
responding  to  it  in  the  Original.  In  Esek.  zlii.  3  (according  to  the 
text  of  1611)  we  read:  **  Over  against  the  psTement  wbicb  was  finr 
the  utter  court,  was  gaUery  against  gallery,  m  three  siories."  And 
so  a^ain  in  verse  6 ;  the  word  being  supplied,  as  required  to  express 
the  full  meaning.  We  have  here  an  illustration  of  that  nae  of  the  ad- 
jective,  which  was  mentioned  under  Gen.  i.  9,  10. 

'  Deut.  xxix.  29.  "  The  secret  things  beUmg  unto  the  Lord  on 
God ;  but  those  things  which  are  revealed  hdomg  unto  us.* 

'  The  complaint  here  is,  that  ''  things  "  in  the  f»iner  part  of  the 
verse,  and  '*  things  which  are  "  in  the  latter,  should  be  in  Italies. 
This  passage  affords  a  good  illustration  of  the  «U|ptic  brevi^  of  the 
Hebrew.  In  the  original,  we  have,  in  &ct — ''  The  secretTjUiingsl 
— unto  the  Lord  our  God ;  but  the  revealed — unto  us."  Tne  senti- 
ment so  expressed  was,  no  doubt,  perfectly  intelligible  to  the  Isradites; 
but  the  generality  of  English  readers  would  reauire  it  to  be  broog^t 
out  more  fully.  Let  us  see  how  this  is  done.  First,  the  Hebrew  ad- 
jective ^'  the  secret "  is  too  abstract  for  the  English  idiom  ;  and  ao  it 
is  converted  into  "  the  secret  things  " — which,  when  fully  esplained, 
it  really  means.  Then  there  is  no  v^  to  connect  **  the  secret  [tninpl" 
with  ''  unto  the  Lord  our  God ;"  and  accordingly,  ''  beraogt"  toe 
verb  manifestly  implied,  is  introduced.  We  now  nave  the  fiiat  part  of 
the  verse  complete ;  ''  The  secret  things  bekmg  unto  the  Lobd  oar 
Qi)d :"  and  if  the  second  part  had  been  literally  translated — ''  but  the 
revealed — unto  us,"  the  ellipsis,  suggested  by  the  former  party  might 
perhaps  have  been  supplied  by  an  English  reader;  but  the  Tianalaton 
deemed  it  better  to  give  the  sense  in  fiiU,  by  supplying  the  words  which 
must  otherwise  have  been  understood : — *'  but  those  things  mkick  art 
revealed  belong  unto  us."  Nothing  more  can  be  desired,  to  eriaoe  the 
propriety  of  the  Italics  in  this  passage.' 

*  Isai.  xxxviii.  18.  *'  For  the  grave  cannot  praise  thee,  death  can 
not  celebrate  thee." 

'  Undoubtedly  the  n^;ative  is,  in  the  Hebrew,  expressed  only  in  the 
former  member  of  the  sentence,  although  nndtrstood  in  the  latter. 
In  the  latter  member  therefore — to  convey  to  the  English  reader  the 


The  BHUe-PrkMng  Monopoly.  8S1 

cmiiplete  meaning  of  the  passage — the  negative  vma  very  properly  sap* 
plied  by  the  Translators^  although  the  word  is  not  distinguisned  from 
the  rest  of  the  sentence  in  the  text  of  1611.  In  a  case  like  this,  tiie 
Italics  of  the  modern  editions  must  be  considered  as  marking  a  Hebrew 
idiom  ;  and  similar  cases  have  been  attended  to  in  the  text  of  1611. 
In  1  Sam*  ii.  3^  we  read :  '*  Talk  no  more  so  exceeding  proudly,  let 
noi  Bxumncy  come  out  of  your  mouth ;" — In  Job  iii.  11,  "  Why  died 
I  not  mm  the  womb :  why  did  I  not  give  up  the  ghost  ?" — and  in 
Fs.  xd.  5,  "  Thou  shalt  not  be  afraid  for  the  terror  by  night,  nor  for 
the  arrow  that  flieth  by  day.''  Nothing  more  needs  to  be  said  in  be- 
half of  the  Italics  in  Isai.  xxxviii.  18.' 

From  the  New  Testament,  eleven  cases  are  produced  by  the 
Snb-Committeey  of  Italics  improperly  employed,  as  they  allege, 
the  article  being  used  for  the  pronoun,  and  so  considered  by  we 
Translators.  The  passages  are:  Matt.  iv.  20,  ^^  Lefb  their  nets.^ 
▼ill.  3,  **  Jesus  put  forth  his  hand."** — 20,  "  Hath  not  where  to 
lay  hie  head.^— ix.  5,  "  Thy  sins  be  forgiven."*— xix.  10,  "  The 
man — with  his  wife.***  Mark  ii.  9.  The  same  as  Mark  ix.  5.  Luke 
xi.  13,  "  Your  heavenly  Father."*'  John  x.  30,  **  I  and  my 
Father  are  one.^  Phil.  iii.  19,  "  Whose  God  is  their  belly."* 
Heb.  i.  3,  "  The  brightness  of  his  glory ."'—xii.  10,  **  But  he  for 
our  profit."*  In  the  text  of  1611,  the  same  manner  of  printing 
the  pronoun  as  is  here  exhibited,  was  adopted.  On  looking  at 
some  of  these  instances.  Dr.  Turton  remarks,  that  they  may  be 
divided  into  two  classes ;  the  first  comprising  examples  of  the 
pronoun  printed  in  Italics,  when  the  corresponding  word  in  the 
original  has  no  article  prefixed ;  the  second  consisting  of  those 
in  which  the  article  appears. 

• 

'  It  happens  that  the  pronouns  in  Italics,  in  the  preceding  list,  are 
all  to  be  referred  to  this  second  class ;  and  I  will  venture  to  say  that» 
if  the  Italics  objected  to,  be  compared  with  the  Italics  here  adduced 
from  the  text  of  161 1,  there  can  be  no  good  reason  assigned  why  they 
ishoold  be  retained  in  the  latter  case,  and  not  in  the  mrmer  ...  If 
nice  distinctions— such  as  our  Translators  have  partially  carried  into 
effect— are  to  be  made,  there  seems  to  be  a  propriety  in  retaimng  the 
Italics  in  the  cases  now  under  consideration.  Taldng,  for  example, 
tlie  text.  Matt.  iv.  20,  ''  Having  left  their  nets  "  (a^pimf  vm  lUrvm)  ; 
St.  Mark,  relating  the  same  event,  writes  «f  imf  ra  lixrvet  t^rSp,  and 
in  the  modem  as  well  as  the  old  editions,  we  find  **  their  nets  " — the 
word  ''  their  "  being  printed  in  the  ordinary  character,  on  account  of 
its  having  a  word  (avrSp'i  corresponding  to  it  in  the  Greek.  It  is  ob« 
■ervable  that  Beza  translates  the  passage  in  St.  Matthew,  ^  omissia 
vetibus ;"  and  the  passage  in  St.  Mane,  ^*  omissis  retibus  suis :" — 
thereby  shewing^  as  the  Latin  language  easily  permitted,  his  attention 
to  the  presence  or  absence  of  the  pronoun.  JSeza,  indeed,  is  generally 
attentive  to  this  matter ;  and  I  mention  the  fact,  because  his  authority 
was  undoubtedly  great  with  the  Translators.  That,  in  the  printing  of 
so  huge  a  work,  their  principles  should  have  becm  occasionally  bst 


•^. 


he  ft 
tkdtldftecfa««i 
hf  tihe  text  «if  ]6ri. 


ATT.  HL  15,  '^  Ssftr  if  ioiemmtmr     f  A^«c  V^) 
'TWItii&sndbktext»ec«ii4eHKd»«mL  X«v  tv«  tkiosB  I 
win  rartnfe  to  dfcm :  1.  tkat  "Ssftrif  to  6r  jv  mmw"  icpuLli 

tliMe  w«nk  CMiM  •»  wd  ia0eit  to  the  temrmei  raadcr  «f  tke  K^kh 
TfWMladM,  Ok  prac»eex|M«Mi0a«ir€be  Eiiiyliit  *At«?y».  6<w 
Um!  ptmMie  wv  ondentood  in  aocieat  tnMt,  wffl  ifpii  bmm  tke 
Vnlffsle— ''  Bine,  maibf  and  when  Ben  |;Bve  "  Omitte  aw 
at  tne  eqairthait  expremm,  he  took  cue  to  print  aw  in  Itolica — to 
•hew  that  h  waa  more  than  the  Gredk  text  eontamed.  IndieaBBe 
manner,  the  words  ii  lobe $o  hare  been  printed  in  Italici,  to indirrtr 
that  there  are  no  words  eorrei^Madiiig  to  them  in  the  originaL 

'  J  Con.  xnl3,  ''  If  I  bestow  all  mj  gooda  to  fted  iSe  jmr."  (mi 

*  iht  oljjection  to  the  Italics  in  this  pasnge  would  im^j  a  bdief  on 
the  part  iA  the  objectors,  that  the  words  so  marked  exist>  in  aome  war 
or  other,  in  the  verb  x^f**^^*  ^^  ^'  '^  *^  ^^  Ntunbers  zL  ^ 
according  to  the  Scptnagint,  we  find  t/^  rpok  ^^Mfx^iT  «fla ;  "who  will 

fire  us  flesh  to  eat  r  '  and  in  Rom.  xii.  20,  we  read  leu  xw^  •  ^xM^  <'^' 
i^fAi^i  a^09,  '^  If  thine  enemy  hun|;er,  feed  him."    The  conduskm  k, 
that  the  Italics  are  not  misapplied. 

Nothing  can  be  more  satis&ctory  than  these  explanations.  It 
will  not,  we  think,  be  affirmed  by  any  persons  competent  to  judge 
on  the  question,  that  the  Italics  of  the  modem  Bioles  are  applied 
t<>  caves  not  sanctioned  by  the  Translators  themselves,  or  that  the 
alterations  introduced  into  them  by  the  additional  instances  (very 
numerous  ones  certainly)  of  a  cnange  of  type,  are  not  in  con- 
formity with  the  rules  which  they  manifestly  prescribed  to  them- 
sclvcH  in  the  construction  of  their  text.  The  last  Italics  do  not  in 
any  rcHpcct  show  a  usage  or  a  design  different  from  the  purpose 
for  which  they  were  at  the  first  employed  in  the  autnorized 
version.  No  objection  can,  on  principle,  be  made  to  the  modem 
Italics,  which  ((oes  not  press  precisely  in  the  same  manner,  and 
with  eoual  force,  against  the  Itolics  of  the  Translators.  In  re- 
s])oct,  tnon,  to  the  Report  of  the  Sub-Committee,  Dr.  Turton 
remarks : 

'  Tlio  alternative  seems  to  be,  either  that,  by  censuring  the  modem 
Italics  lis  ))roductivc  of  the  evils  they  describe,  they  intended  to  pass 
tho  Hiuiic  censures  on  the  whole  of  the  Italics,  wncther  ancient  or 
nunlorn ;  or,  tlmt  they  coudcmned  the  modem  Italics  without  being  at 
all  iic(|uiuntcd  with  the  nature  of  the  Italics  with  which  the  text  of 
1011  alMmnds.' 

Dr.  Turton  adonts  the  latter  part  of  the  altomative,  and  hav- 
ing  most  completely  established  the  several  points  necessary  to 


The  Bible-Printing  Monopoly.  623 

give  to  his  censures  the  force  of  a  commahding  authority,  he  pro- 
ceeds to  express  his  opinions,  without  reserve,  on  the  proceedings 
of  the  Sub- Committee. 

The  members  of  the  Sub-Committee  have,  in  the  face  of  the 
world,  made  themselves  responsible  for  the  following  resolution  in 
reference  to  the  Italics : 

'  That  those  who  made  these  alterations^  have  discovered  a  great 
want  of  critical  taste,  unnecessarily  exposed  the  sacred  text  to  the 
9Cofh  of  infidels,  and  thrown  such  stumbling-blocks  in  the  wav  of  the 
unlearned,  as  are  greatly  calculated  to  perplex  their  minus,  and 
unsettle  their  confidence  in  the  text  of  Scripture.' 

*  A  great  want  of  critical  taste,^  is  not  the  most  serious 
charge,  certainly,  which  might  require  our  consideration  in  judg- 
ing the  merits  of  the  modem  editors  of  the  Bible.  There  may  be 
violations  of  taste,  where  there  is  no  offence  against  truth  ;  and 
taste  not  having  a  standard  by  which  critics  may,  to  each  other^s 
satisfaction,  adjust  their  respective  claims,  the  want  of  it  may  be 
very  questionable  in  some  cases,  where  the  allegation  of  deficiency 
may  be  most  strenuously  asserted.  We  are,  however,  mucn 
mistaken,  if  the  members  of  the  Sub-Committee  would  find  them- 
selves prepared  to  vindicate  King  Jameses  Translators  from  the 
accusation,  that  ^  a  great  want  of  critical  taste  ^  appears  in  their 
version.  Many  editors  and  critics  have  found  great  fiiult  with  the 
Translation  of  1611  in  matters  of  taste.  But,  in  their  Report,  the 
Sub-Committee  charge  upon  the  authors  of  the  alterations  intro- 
duced by  the  modern  Italics,  that  they  have,  ^  unnecessarily,  ex- 
posed the  sacred  text  to  the  scoffs  of  infidels;^  and  if  such  be  the 
fact,  the  measure  of  reproach  which  might  be  righteously  mea- 
sured  out  to  them,  could  not  be  small.  The  scoffs  of  infidels  will 
ultimately  be  found  to  be  most  injurious  to  themselves,  as  all 
despite  to  grave  and  solemn  subjects,  depraves  the  understanding, 
and  disqiudifies  a  man  for  the  conducting  of  inquiries  after  truth. 
But  ^  unnecessarily^  to  occasion  those  scoffs  by  which  infidels  are 
rendered  more  obdurate,  and  the  way  of  truth  is  spoken  against, 
shews  more  than  a  want  of  wisdom.  Arc  the  modem  editors  of 
the  Bible  then  in  this  predicament  ?  Be  it  remembered  that  the 
Report  limits  the  entire  of  the  alleged  mischievous  consequences 
to  the  Italics  of  our  modem  Bibles.  We  know  that  contradic- 
tions and  inconsistencies  have  been  charged  by  infidels  upon  the 
Bible,  and  that  their  mockery  has  been  directed  against  its 
hallowed  pages  read  and  construed  amiss  by  them.  But  have 
the  Italics  been  the  cause  or  the  occasion  of  their  raillery  ?  Would 
infidels  treat  the  Bible  of  1611  with  less  irreverence  than  the 
Oxford  Bible  of  1769  ?  Is  the  ktter  the  book  on  which  the^ 
fi»ten  their  calumnies  and  their  scorn  ?  We  do  more  than  hesi- 
tate to  approve  the  Report  of  the  Sub-Committee  in  this  respect : 


IM  The  BMe^Priniing  Monopoly. 

we  inast  deny  the  trath  of  its  charges,  and  utterly  repel  its  tn- 
anuations.  Were  infidels  never  known  to  scoff  at  the  BiUe 
before  the  introduction  of  the  modem  Italics  as  distinctiTe  marks 
of  the  peculiarities  of  its  text,  as  conveyed  in  a  language  varjring 
in  its  idioms  from  the  languages  of  the  originals  P  The  Italics 
are  blameless,  and  do  not  so  expose  the  sacred  text. 

In  addition  to  all  this  mischief,  the  Italics,  it  seems,  have 
^  thrown  such  stumbling-blocks  in  the  way  of  the  unlearned,  ss 
^  are  greatly  calculated  to  perplex  their  minds,  and  unsettle  their 
^  conhdence  in  the  text  of  Scripture.'*  The  unlearned  have  a 
peculiar  interest  in  translations  of  the  Bible.  Its  contents  can 
be  known  to  them  only  through  the  medium  of  a  version*  The 
fidelity  of  the  V^ersion  used  by  them  is  therefore  of  primary  im- 
portance. If  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  be  pervert^,  or  be  ob- 
scurdy  exhibited  in  a  translation,  or  if  the  form  in  which  the 
Bible  is  delivered  into  the  hands  of  the  unlearned  be  the  occasioa 
of  ambiguities  by  which  the  mind  of  the  reader  may  be  misled, 
and  error  or  doubts  produced,  from  which  his  knowledge  of  the 
Original  texts  might  be  his  pledge  of  safety,  the  Version  might 
be  the  means  of  casting  *  stumbnng-Uocks  ^  in  his  way,  and  his 

*  confidence  in  the  text  of  Scripture'*  might  be  *  unsettled.^  But 
are  the  Italics  of  this  dangerous  character  ?  The  unlearned  may, 
indeed,  have  some  difficulty  in  determining  the  reasons  of  the 
differences  in  the  types  of  the  impression  of  the  Bible  before 
him ;  but  would  he  not  have  to  make  the  same  inquiries,  if  he 
had  in  his  hands  the  first  printed  Bible  of  King  Jameses  Trans- 
lators, as  he  would  with  the  last  issued  copy  from  the  Oxford  or 
the  Cambridge  presses?  And  if  the  answers  which  he  might 
receive  in  the  one  case  would  be  satisfactory,  and  enable  him  to 
pursue  his  course  of  reading  with  pleasure  and  improvement, 
would  he  not  be  eaually  benefited  and  prepared  by  the  solution 
which  he  might  obtain  in  the  other?  For  our  own  part,  we 
should  have  no  more  hesitation  in  putting  into  the  hanos  of  an 
unlearned  person  a  Bible  of  1831,  than  we  should  one  of  1611 ; 
and  should  fear  as  little  in  respect  to  the  former,  as  we  should  in 
regard  to  the  latter,  that  there  would  be  *  thrown  such  stumbling- 
^  blocks  in  the  way  of  the  unlearned,  as  are  greatly  calculated  to 
^  perplex  their  minds,  and  to  unsettle  their  confidence  in  the 

*  text  of  Scripture.'  The  very  copy  of  Blayney's  Bible,  1769, 
now  before  us,  was  for  many  year&  the  Bible  constantly  used  by 
a  person  who  was  not  learned,  but  who  was  evangelical  and  de- 
vout, the  fnend  of  Cowper's  Unwin,  of  Claudius  Buchanan,  and  of 
others  equally  well  known  for  their  piety,  in  whose  way  it  threw 
no  obstacles,  whose  mind  it  did  not  perplex,  and  whose  confidence 
in  the  text  of  Scripture  was  never  unsettled  by  the  Italics  which 
it  contained. 


The  Bibte-PrinHng  Monopoly.  625 

We  should  rather  fear  that  the  statements  which  have  been 
pat  forth  in  the  aggressive  pamphlet  before  us,  and  in  the  Report 
of  the  Sub- Committee,  would  tend  to  produce  the  effects  which 
are  ascribed  to  the  modem  Italics  and  the  other  alterations  of 
which  so  much  is  made  by  Mr.  Curtis,  than  that  any  of  the  con- 
sequences which  they  ascribe  to  these  supposed  causes  of  peril 
and  mischief  have  resulted  from  them.  Will  the  unlearned  read 
with  less  of  distrust  and  perplexity  those  Bibles  to  which  they 
have  been  accustomed,  on  being  told  that  thousands  of  errors 
abound  in  them ; — '  in  the  book  of  Genesis  alone,  upwards  of  800; 

*  in  the  Psalms  600 ;  in  the  Gospel  of  Matthew  upwards  of  400 ; 

*  and  in  the  whole  Bible  Eleven  Thousand '  f 

Dr.  Turton'^s  tract  is  valuable,  not  only  as  an  examination  of 
the  question  raised  by  the  representations  in  the  Report  of  the 
Sub- Committee,  but  as  a  most  able  and  useful  illustration  of  the 
text  of  the  English  Bible.     Our  acquaintance  with  his  ^  Vin- 

*  dication  of  Porson  ^  prepared  us  to  expect  in  any  production 
which  should  proceed  from  his  pen,  a  clear  and  ample  under* 
standing  of  his  subject,  acute  and  correct  criticisms  on  points  re- 
quiring elucidation,  and  the  manner  of  an  enlightened  and  liberal 
scholar:  in  these  respects,  the  pages  before  us  receive  our 
commendation.  No  minister  of  any  denomination  should  be 
without  this  admirable  tract.  ^  It  has  become  indispensable  that 
^  the  state  of  the  Bibles  of  King  Jameses  time,  as  to  Italics, 

*  should  be  better  understood  than  it  now  seems  to  be.^  One 
more  passage  we  must  copy  from  the  tract. 

'  In  numerous  instances,  as  I  have  already  observed^  it  is  quite  im- 
possible to  convert  a  Hebrew  or  Greek  sentence  into  a  corresponding 
sentence  in  English,  without  circumlocution.  The  phrase  would  fre- 
quently be  altogether  unintelligible  in  our  own  language,  if  presented 
in  the  elliptical  form  of  the  Original.  In  some  cases,  this  elliptical 
form  will  not  be  attended  with  any  great  uncertainty,  as  to  the  im|>ort 
of  the  Original ;  and  yet  different  modes  of  supplying  the  ellipses, 
giving  slightly  different  shades  of  meaning,  may  be  adopted.  Even 
in  such  cases,  it  seems  desirable  that  the  words  actually  supplied, 

fairly  to  exhibit  the  meaning  in  English,  should  be  pointed  out 

In  other  cases,  the  elliptical  form  is  productive  of  so  much  obscurity, 
that  the  ablest  scholars  will  entertain  different  opinions  as  to  the  mode 
in  which  the  ellipsis  should  be  supplied.  Nothing  surely  can  be  more 
manifest  than  that,  in  translating  works  of  vast  concernment  to  man- 
kind— works  on  which  their  religious  sentiments  depend — whatever  is 
thus  added,  for  the  purpose  of  conveying  the  full  meaning  of  the  Ori- 
ginal, as  apprehended  by  the  Translator,  ought  to  have  some  mark  by 
which  it  may  be  clearly  distinguished  from  the  rest.'  pp.  26,  27. 

In  pp.  65,  56,  Mr.  Curtis  furnishes  a  collation  of  early  copies 
of  the  Bible  of  King  James,  in  which  are  some  extracts  from  the 
Oxford  Reprint  of  the  edition  of  1611.     On  comparing  these 

VOL.  IX. — N.s.  3  T 


526  The  BUUe-Printing  Monopoly. 

extracts  with  the  *  Reprint  \  we  find  so  many  errors  committed 
by  him  as  most  remarkably  to  shew  how  mnch  he  needs  the  in- 
dulgence of  the  forbearance  denied  by  him  to  the  mistakes  of 
other  men.  There  is  no  exaggeration  of  the  faults  which  we 
detect  in  this  collation,  in  the  following  paragraph  of  Dr.  Card- 
welPs  tract. 

'  Now  in  a  pamphlet  where  the  object  of  the  Author  is  to  hold  ap 
certain  presses  to  universal  contempt^  and  more  especially  in  a  passage 
where  he  was  publishing  a  strict  collation  for  the  purpose  of  distin- 
guishing between  two  rival  documents,  we  might  expect  that  he  would 
shew  his  peculiar  fitness  for  such  employments.  And  yet  the  extracts 
are  printed  so  inaccurately^  that  were  he  to  issue  an  edition  of  the 
Bible  similar  to  the  one  now  in  progress  at  the  Oxford  press,  after  the 
copy  of  1611,  and  nith  as  little  correctness  as  the  comparalitfe  extracts 
in  pp.  55  and  56,  there  wonld  he  exactly  forty  errors  io  a  page. 
The  book  will  contain  1428  pages;  so  that  the  whole  amount  of  ue 
errors  would  be  57>120.'  p.  14. 

Mr.  Curtis'^s  errors  are  indeed  constantly  presenting  them- 
selves. The  accuracy  which  he  desiderates  in  other  writers,  is 
but  too  frequently  wanting  in  his  own  case.  In  his  evidence 
before  the  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons,  p.  46,  he  refers 
to  a  Cambridge  edition  of  the  Bible  as  containing  the  reading, 
•*  Therefore  I  have  shewed  them  by  the  prophets";  instead  of 
**  therefore  I  have  hewed  them  by  the  prophets."  Hosea  Ti#  5. 
This  was  cited,  not  from  memory,  but  from  a  memorandum  before 
him.     Now  the  reading  of  the  correct  Bibles  is,  in  this  passage, 

*  therefore  have  I  hewed  them  %  and  the  error  of  the  Camb.,  as 
we  look  to  it  in  a  copy  before  us,  is,  *  therefore  have  I  shewed 

*  them.^  In  the  very  same  answer  to  question  1392,  Mr.  Curtis 
describes  the  Oxford  Octavo  Bible  of  1810,  as  having,  in  Malacfai 
iii.  1 ,  the  superior  for  the  inferior  word  Lord ;  that  is,  instead  of 
Lord,  the  proper  expression.  Lord  is  printed.  Now  ao  prevmlent 
has  been  this  erroneous  mode  of  representing  the  term,  that, 
with  but  one  exception,  all  the  Bibles  accessiUe  to  na,  not  a  few 
have  the  reading.  Lord,  for  the  original  jntXHy  in  Malachi  iii.  1. 
Why  was  the  Oxford  Bible  specified  in  such  a  case  as  this? 
In  his  ^Four  Letters  %  p.  57»  note,  Mr.  Curtis  states,  that 
^  Fleshy'  is  the  reading  of  Dr.  Blayney  and  all  our  modem 
Bibles,  in  2  Cor.  iii.  3.  ^  Fleshly'  is  the  reading  of  the  London 
Bible  of  1769)  of  the  Oxford  1765,  as  well  as  of  some  of  the 
early  editions*  But  the  reading  of  these  is,  in  the  present  case, 
of  no  moment,  as  Mr.  Curtis'^s  object  is  to  censure  Blayney  and 
all  our  modem  Bibles.  It  is  not  correct,  however,  to  affirm  that 
all  our  modem  Bibles  have  ^  fleshy' in  this  passage;  we  have 
before  us  copies  of  1805,  1819,  1831,  in  all  of  which  the  reading 
is  ^  fleshly.'  On  this  very  page  we  find  such  injurious  statements 
as  require  to  be  noticed  and  corrected* 


The  Bible- Printing  Monopoly.  MTJ 

*  Dr.  Blayncy  seems  to  have  been  fully  aware  that  the  punctuation 
may  "  preserve  "  and  of  course  obscure  or  destroy  "  the  true  sense ;  ** 
and  I  must  submit,  that  whenever  a  point  affects  the  setise,  we  have 
no  modern  authority  for  altering  the  authorized  punctuation.  And 
the  position  of  a  comma  will  sometimes  affect  the  statement  of  a  scrip- 
ture doctrine:  ex,  gr,  Heb.  x.  12.,  that  of  the  all-important  doctrine 
of  the  atonement.  Our  Translators,  placing  their  comma  at  "  ever," 
make  the  verse  to  read,  "  This  man  after  he  had  offered  one  sacrifice 
for  sins  for  ever,  sat  down  on  the  right  hand  of  God."  Dr.  Blayney  and 
the  modem  Bibles,  removing  the  comma,  read,  "  This  man  after  he 
bad  offered  one  sacrifice  for  sins^  for  ever  sat  dorrn  on  the  right  hand 
of  God."  • 

Dr.  Blayney  was  not  the  innovator.  Long  before  his  revision, 
the  punctuation  objected  to  had  a  place  in  English  Bibles. 
Blayney  is  evidently  regarded  by  Mr.  Curtis  as  not  very  anxious 
to  preserve  *  the  true  sense  of  the  passage,^  what  then  will  he  say 
to  the  Geneva  Translators  ?  Their  Version  reads :  ^  But  this  man, 
*  after  he  had  offered  one  sacrifice  for  sinnes,  sitteth  for  ever,^ 
&c. 

The  paragraph  marks  are  noticed  by  Mr.  Curtis,  p.  58,  note  ; 
but  here,  as  elsewhere,  we  have  to  find  fault  with  the  rash  and  in- 
discriminate judgement  which  he  pronounces.  The  readers  of 
his  pamphlet  who  may  not  feel  themselves  under  obligation  to 
submit  to  a  rigorous  examination  the  statements  and  averments 
of  the  Author,  must,  in  following  him  in  his  representations,  have 
their  minds  strongly  prejudiced  against  such  editions  of  the  Scrip- 
tures as  these  later  times  have  produced.  Here  again  we  find 
the  modem  Bibles  set  in  array  against  the  Bible  of  1611. 

'  The  Translators,  placing  this  mark  of  a  distinct  subject.  Matt, 
zxviii.  19,  express  their  opinion  that  the  important  commission  of  that 
▼erae  was  given  in  the  mount  of  Galilee :  the  modern  Bibles  placing  it 
at  the  18th  verse,  indicate  a  different  opinion.' 

The  commission  delivered  in  the  19th  verse  is  connected  by 
the  particle  ouv  with  the  words  of  Christ  in  the  18th  ;  and,  there- 
fore the  paragraph  mark,  whether  it  be  placed  at  verse  19th  or 
ISth,  cannot  give  occasion  for  the  inference  alleged  by  Mr.  Curtis. 
But  to  the  point  of  fact.  The  modern  Bibles  are  not  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  Bible  of  1611.  Blayney,  indeed,  places  the  mark  at 
the  18th  verse,  but  the  modern  Bibles  are  very  numerous  which 
have  the  paragraph  mark  where  the  Translators  affixed  it.  So  it 
appears  in  Cambridge  Bibles  of  1793,  1828,  1831  ;  in  Oxford 
Bibles  of  1765,  1822,  1830 ;  and  in  London  Bibles  of  1821, 1830. 
In  other  editions,  there  is  no  paragraph  mark  after  the  16th 
▼erse. 

We  are  not  of  counsel  for  the  University  of  Oxford,  nor  do  we  hold 
a  fee  as  retained  advocates  for  Dr.  Blayney^s  fiune ;  but  the  eager* 

3x2 


528  The  Bible-PrinHng  Monopoly. 

ness  of  Mr.  Curtis  to  accumulate  blame  upon  the  late  Hebrew 
professor  of  Oxford  should  be  rebuked.  His  revision  of  the  Bible 
contains  many  alterations  which  no  one  is  prepared  to  defend ; 
and  many  of  them  have  been  corrected  in  editions  which  in  other 
respects  have  been  rendered  conformable  to  it.  Mr.  Curtis^s 
censures  might  with  advantage  to  his  reputation,  in  many  cases 
have  been  spared.  The  *  Contents  of  Chapters^  in  Blayney^s 
revision  have  been,  to  a  great  extent,  abandoned,  and  the  Bible 
of  1769  is  no  longer  followed ;  but,  if  none  of  them  had  been 
more  exceptionable  than  the  following,  we  do  not  see  in  what 
manner  the  Bible  could  have  suffered  deterioration. 

Dr.  Blayney  and  his  coadjutors  seem  also  to  have  been  Jstronglj 
attached  (according  to  these  summaries  of  their  doctrine)  to  the 
heathen  deity  Fortune,  of  whom  the  Bible  of  the  Translators  certainly 
kn^Mv  nothing.  Thus  the  predictions  of  the  angel,  who  is  called  Je- 
hovah, Gen.  xvi.,  are  said  to  be  ''  informing"  Hagar  ''  of  her  and  her 
son's  fortunes;"  and  Gen.  xxv.,  the  struggling  of  the  children  daring 
Rebekah's  pregnancy^  "  a  token  of  the  future  fortunes  of  their 
posterity.*"     p.  05. 

We  could  easily  refer  to  writers  of  unquestionable  attachment 
to  evangelical  doctrines,  and  of  eminent  piety,  who  have  not 
scrupled  to  use  the  language  for  which  Mr.  Curtis  so  severely 
remarks  upon  the  Oxford  Hebrew  Professor.  But,  be  the  lan- 
guage proper  or  improper,  it  is  to  be  read  in  much  more  interest- 
ing parts  of  a  Biblical  page  than  in  the  notation  of  the  contents  of 
a  chapter  :  we  find  it  in  the  text  of  the  Bible  itself*  In  Cover- 
dale^s  Bible,  Eccles.  ix.   11,  is  rendered,    ^  All  lyeth  in  tyme 

*  ^x\A  fortune^  and  the  phrase,  ^  iifortunedy  is  frequently  em- 
ployed. 2  Sam.  xix.  9*  Ruth,  i.  1.  Job,  i.  5.  7*  King  James'^s 
Translators  inserted  in  the  Contents  of  the  cxlixth  Psalm,  *  The 

*  prophet  exhorteth  to  praise  God — for  that  power  which  be  hath 

*  given  to  the  Church  to  rule  the  consciences  of  men.^  If  Blayney 
had  been  the  author  of  such  a  sentence  as  this,  the  sharpest  am* 
madversions  of  Mr.  Curtis  would  have  been  employed  to  rebuke 
the  temerity  of  such  a  proceeding.  From  the  modem  Bibles  it 
has  been  displaced.  Blayney^s  revision  has — *  for  that  power 
'  which  he  has  given  to  his  saints.**  Would  Mr.  Curtis  restore 
the  old  reading  ?  Nothing  short  of  this  could  be  in  satis&ction  61 
his  assumption  and  his  arguments. 

Mr.  Curtis  comments  in  the  following  manner  on  the  account 
given  by  Blayney  of  his  labours  in  the  revision  od'jGQ. 

*  IV.  The  Column  Titles. — "  The  running  titles  at  the  top  of 
the  columns  in  each  pa^,  how  trifling  a  circumstance  soever  it  may 
appear,  required  no  small  degree  of  thought  and  attention."  AJdn  ia 
pnnciple  to  the  abandoned  comment  above^  (Heads  or  Content*  of 
Chapters,)  is  the  continued  one  here  alluded  to,  which  oontaint 


The  Bibh'Printing  Monopoly.  539 

OfHTuptionB  of  tbe  doctrines  and  statements  of  the  Bible^  as  understood 
hy  our  Translators,  that  I  am  far,  my  Lord,  from  regarding  as 
trifling !  *  Man's  righteousness/  is  their  column — title  of  that  part  of 
Isa*  Ixiv.  which  contains  the  memorable  phrase,  '^  And  all  our  righ- 
teousnesses are  as  filthy  rags."  Dr.  Blayney  avoids  this  for — '  The 
calling  of  the  Gentiles,'  the  subject  of  the  Ixv.  chapter.  So  we  have 
for  *  None  is  just,'  '  All  are  alike.'  Eccl.  vii.  and  viii.  two  other 
subjects  substituted,  '  Patience  and  wisdom,'  '  Kings  are  to  be 
respected;'  and  'None  righteous,'  Rom.  iii.  exchanged  for  'The 
Jews  universally  sinners.'  (Bl.)  The  first  two  of  these  corruptions 
are  in  the  last  Camb.  8yo.  Ref.  Bible,  finished  at  the  period  of  my 
visit  to  that  University.  '  None  is  just,'  Job  xxv.,  is  thus  also  with- 
drawn ;  '  None  is  clean,'  Prov.  xx.  '  The  heart  wicked,'  Jer.  xvii. 
'  God's  justice  in  punishing  sinners — God's  ways  equal,'  Ezek.  xviii. 
(Trans.)  exchanged  for  '  Every  man  shall  stand  or  fall  by  his  own 
good  or  bad  actions,'  (BI.)  and  Camb.  8vo.  1831.  Was  there  any 
thing  honourable  in  the  animus  of  these  alterations  }  The  Church  of 
England,  we  know,  furnished  during  the  last  century,  but  too  many 
advocates  of  a  righteousness  by  works,  which  made  '  the  grace  of  God 
no  more  grace  ;'  but  they  should  have  contented  themselves  with  a  fair 
field,  and  fair  weapons  of  controversy ;  thus  silently  to  withdraw  an 
important  sanction  of  a  directly  opposite  opinion,  was  surely  any  thing 
but  &ir  or  becoming.'     Curtis,  66,  67- 

This,  we  hesitate  not  to  say,  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
paragraphs  which  ever  came  under  the  notice  of  a  Reviewer;— 
remarkable  alike  for  the  errors  which  it  embodies,  and  the  disin- 
genuous spirit  which  pervades  it.     The  language  which  it  con- 
tains, is  explicit  enough,  nor  are  the  insinuations  at  all  charge- 
able with  obscurity ;  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  can  be  mistaken. 
Dr.  Blayney  is  boldly  charged  with  the  offence  of  wilfully  per- 
verting and  corrupting  the  Scriptures  :     *  Was  there   any   thing 
honourable  in  the  animus  of  these  alterations  ? ""     We  shall  ex- 
amine the  grounds  on  which  an  accusation  so  grave  and  serious  is 
foiuided.     Every  reader  is  referred,  by  Mr.  Curtis,  to  Blayney, 
the  Church  of  England  divines  of  the  last  century,  and  the  mo- 
dem Bibles,  as  the  guilty  parties,  and  the  witnesses  of  their 
desperate  proceedings.     Now  what  will  our  readers  think  of  such 
charges,  when  we  assure  them  that  the  above  alterations  are  not 
modem;  are  not  of  the  last  century,  are  not  peculiar  to  modem 
Bibles,  and  are  not  chargeable  upon  Dr.  Blayney  as  the  author  of 
them  !     It  is  impossible  that  Dr.  Blayney  should  have  been  the 
author  of  Column-titles  in  the  English  Bible,  which  had  a  place 
there  a  century  before  the  date  of  his  revision.     The  injustice 
which  Mr.  Curtis  has  shewn  towards  Blayney,  it  is  impossible  for 
any  upright  and  candid  mind  to  overlook;  and  our  sense  of  jus- 
tice, as  well  as  the  generous  feelings  which  the  occasion  requires, 
impel  us  to  rescue  the  memory  of  the  learned  critic  from  his  un- 
rignteous  imputations.     As  the  most  unexceptionable  testimonies, 


Z  tr      i «.!•••- ?'    .?. '   9a£    -A.  f*l»    H 


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:■.  V   •   .T     :.: :.  .: .     '  •";     "  >  tr-    ::  fi  ::  t»  vi-  '      pr.  T^r:*  xx.. 

T'   :  '-.l:*  r'-'.-.    ^A:-:..    1 1*7:       ^^   '"-  -  *  Tlf   :-r»!-frri:-::- 

-r    -  ■ .-      ^  ■  -,-.:  -•-".-         ■   . "    "  ■         w  .-    —      ~     ,-"  •     "  •"■-"*■  •    T'-p  iK- 

J-.: -I-    i^  -   '  "-'."•     u-    :*t    :t    :  .r    rrLiif'  —  fr:/  ^r:X^.     The 

r 

•  ■•  1  ••--     I  .—■     ■•"      -     ■  —  :—       --.*»—--    -"-       •-  -  i-      "(i       "••    T     T^  »T     ^^  ip'^'tV 

r..-.  -.  :.*i-  .'T.f  ::-  -': :  Ti" -.it;?"?  rfj-firr?-  b'-i  thai  he 
:.      »--:  :":  -  -.i.,"-  -.    .:  '.  >  Trf:r:*-:-T?-.T>  :-  :'r.f  ifpinr-.er;;  and 

1.  .      ..  ...  .      •_.         ,.."»•  —       .?       A^.A       7ftAk^...'C*.*7    !>  I 

.  . "  -.    >:.*■    1  .  -.r  -.   .    •      «-i-.  rr-    ."--If.   ■  >:-^r-l  :r.-:ir.^eso: 

•  ■  '  A  •*  ■  *  •       ^"^  ■        ■  i 

r    :   -       '■■■".         .-.-:•    x"*.       •  .V    *•  •  :.~:t    .  r    C*-r:s!. 

.  •   ■  -      •    - :  :  :_  ^■.  -i:-.  .     _.:-■:  r.   ::rc^-»  ->  ^-ujr:.) 

.■■_•-:•  Jy.  ■::■■--..-  t".-  -  :  *:r-  •-  B.  ir.f  :ir  r-.-.i-ierr.  Bi- 
'.  '■  'f^'  ::  -  if-  1'  1  «.  -■  1  1  ].  P-  -.  '■".::  Cnr.r^T's  Etfr- 
r.:-/        :'--  T    .    .■_:.      :    T^.i-.'     131.      i"i  Ox-^rd.   U>2S; 

'  rr  >-..-.■.  \..  -  .  «•:  .  L -•::':.  Ic^'A. — *'er.  xxx:..  ■  l'hri>t  jiro- 
:.  •  -  •■  r.t-  '-■  -1  L  .rL.'z  -^  c*:..*" -rtt-.:."  BI.  iaii  n*.«<lern 
ii  ..  ■  -.\;i:-. '.:.  «  .r>:»iz: ::.:....-..'  Trjri>.  •  The  ir:terpretation 
•■.■:•;. :'.    ' . .  •: .  •.'..;  v ..... :.  ;  - ; :  1-i::'. : v ^     E "..  - c  d  Xi:i>i»:r r.  Bibles '  .* 

M:  rnrti*  ir  ^o  cr-pi'iir  in  his  cx.i'r.plc-.  and  so  remote  from 
aii  .vrri'rj^jnjity  «>t»:XTjrt--ii'  ::  in  hi*  -tatemen:?.  as  to  preserve  every 
rf:a*l^r  of  therii  inti:\  the  p»;**::J';:ty  or"  misconceiving  his  meaning. 
'J  |jf:  iri.putation  a^i.'iin  repeated  against  Blaney  is,  that  he  icil- 
J'ulhj  f'aUifufd  i\n!  de-cription  of  the  contents  of  the  chapters  of 
the-  \\\\,\tt  \i\  wi  til  drawing  the  direct  references  which  they  con- 
tain to  (^hriht.     Let  us  then  compare  the  old  copies.     How  stands 


The  Bible-Printing  Monopoly.  631 

the  reading  of  1620?  *  The  excellencie  of  wisdom:  Her  riches 
and  eternitic'  What  is  that  of  1639?  *  The  commendation  of 
'Wisdom.''  What  is  the  Column-title  of  1679?  *  Wisdom^s  excel- 
lency, &C.''  In  Ps.  xxii.,  the  edition  of  1679  reads  *  David^s 
prayer  in  distress.^     In  Jer.  xxxi.  many  modem  Bibles  do  read 

*  Christ  promised;^  so  Camb.  1793.  *  Christ  is  promised"  appears 
in  a  most  beautiful  Camb.  12mo,  1828;  and  so  reads  the  8vo. 
edition  of  London,   1821.      Other  modern   Column-titles  are, 

*  Ephraim'^s  repentance,**  *  Israers  restoration.'*     In  Daniel  vii., 

*  Tenne  homes,''  1613.  *  Four  beasts,"*  1620.  *  The  interpre- 
tation thereof,"  1679. 

'  Other  doctrinal  views  of  the  Translators,  reformed  by  those  of  the 
Oxford  Divines  of  1769,  will  be  interesting  to  some  of  my  readers.  I 
shall  merely,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  put  down  the  wilhdrarvn  doc- 
trine. The  reader  can  generally  find  the  substituted  one  of  Blayney  in 
the  modern  Bibles.  Ps.  Ivii.  *  God  saveth  his.'  Isa.  x.  '  A  remnant 
saved.' — xliv.  '  God's  love  to  his  chosen  people.' — xlvi.  '  Gt)d  beareth 
his.' — xlviii.  '  God  trieth  his' — Jer.   xv.    *  God  saveth   his.'— xxxi. 

*  Everlasting  love.' — id.  '  A  new  covenant  and  everlasting.' — Acts 
T.  *  Ordained  to  life.' — Eph.  i.  '  The  election  of  the  saints.' 

It  may  surprise  our  readers  to  leam  that  not  one  of  these  pas- 
sages is  found  in  the  Bibles  of  1639,  and  1679,  and  but  one  of 
them  in  the  black-letter  quarto  of  1620,  that  of  Eph.  i.  Isa.  x.  has, 
in  1 620,  *  A  remnant  of  Israel  saved ;'  and  modern  Bibles  have  the 
similar  heading,  '  A  remnant  of  Israel  shall  be  saved.**  Whatever 
be  the  points  of  doctrine  included  in  these  sentences  placed  at  the 
top  of  the  pages  in  the  chapters  specified,  Mr.  Curtis  has  charged 
upon  the  Oxford  Divines  of  1769»  the  withdrawing  of  them,  and 
tne  reforming  of  the  tenets  exhibited  by  them.  But  the  editors 
of  1620,  1639,  and  1679,  could  not  withdraw  the  passages  which 
are  exchanged  for  others  in  their  Bibles  from  any  wish  to  accom- 
modate them  to  any  doctrines  to  which  Mr.  Curtis  may  suppose 
Blayney  and  his  coadjutors  were  favourably  disposed. 

Mr.  Curtis  goes  on  to  shew  that  the  Translators,  after  the  ex- 
ample of  their  Geneva  brethren,  chose  for  the  head  of  the  page, 

*  some  notable  word  or  sentence  for  the  help  of  the  memory',  and 
he  copies,  p.  68,  '  a  few  of  these  of  which  our  modern  bibles  are 

*  denuded.'  These  words  and  sentences,  of  whatever  value  they 
may  be,  are  not  of  sacred  authority  ;  and  it  is  quite  obvious,  as 
Dr.  Cardwell  observes,  that  they  could  not  have  been  preserved, 
unless  all  editions  subsequent  to  that  in  which  they  first  appeared 
had  '  corresponded  exactly  in  page  and  in  column  with  the  first 

*  impressions.'  We  shall  compare  some  of  these  titles  as  given 
by  Mr.  Curtis  with  the  headings  in  some  bibles  before  us. 
Exod.  xxxiii.  '  God  not  seen '.  Not  in  1613,  1620,  1639,  all  of 
which  read,  '  Moses  talketh  with  God.'     Blayney,   '  Moses  dc- 

*  sireth  to  see  the  glory  of  God.'     Deut.  xxx.,   '  Mercy  to  the 


532  The  Bible-Printing  Manopofy. 

^  repentant.*     Not  in  1613,  which  has,  ^  His  (Grod'^s)  merde.' 

*  Promises  to  the  repentant%  is  in  1620.  Bhtyney,  *  Great  mercies 

*  promised  to  the  penitent.**  Ps.  xxxix.,  *  Man  is  vanity ."^ ;  in 
1613,  *  Man's  vanity' ;  1620,  *  David's  care  of  his  thoughts'; 
Blayney,  *  His  reflections  on  the  vanity  of  human  life.'  Otha 
modem  bibles  have,  *  The  brevity  and  vanity  of  life.'     Ps.  xlviii., 

*  Zion's  beauty ';  modem  bibles  read  *  The  beauty  of  Zion.'  The 
sentiment  in  tne  titles  at  the  head  of  the  page  is,  in  some  of  the 
earliest  bibles  expressed  with  great  brevity  and  terseness,  and  is, 
as  Mr.  Curtis  describes  it,  adapted  to  catch  a  *  careless  eye ' ;  but 
the  titles  were  very  early  changed,  and  successive  editions  shew 
ereat  variety  in  the  sentences  thus  displayed.  The  denudation 
IS  not  by  any  means  peculiar  to  our  modem  bibles.  And  let  it 
not  be  forgotten,  that  the  passages  thus  removed,  are  no  part  of 
the  sacred  Scriptures,  the  text  of  which  is  not  affected  by  these 
withdrawmcnts  or  substitutions. 

In  his  fourth  *  Letter,'  (p.  74,  &c.)  Mr.  Curtis's  remarks  relate 
principally  to  the  mode  of  distinguishing  certain  Divine  names  in 
the  printed  Bibles.  King  James's  Translators  have  used  the 
term  Jehovah  but  in  a  very  few  cases  of  a  peculiar  kind.  Lord 
is  the  mode  of  representing  the  Hebrew  rffl*  observed  by  them, 
and  the  same  word  in  a  different  letter.  Lord,  intimates  to  the 
reader  of  their  version,  that  the  Original  is  fpK:  the  former  denotes 
the  Self-existent  Being,  but  the  latter  is  used  of  men  or  other 
creatures.  These  terms  are  often  found  associated  with  each 
other,  and  are,  respectively,  frequently  combined  with  other  names 
of  God.  It  is  of  considerable  importance  that  these  names  should 
be  correctly  represented  in  a  Translation,  and  that  there  should 
be  an  unbroken  uniformity  in  the  usage  adopted.  Mr.  Curtis 
severely  reprehends  Dr.  Blayney  and  the  modem  Editors  for  their 
carelessness  in  respect  to  this  particular,  and  points  out  some  of  the 
errors  which  disfigure  their  Bibles.  We  are  not  acquainted  with 
any  English  Bibles  which,  in  respect  to  this  class  of  words,  are 
faultless;  and  considerable  differences  are  to  be  found  in  their 
modes  of  representing  them.  Mr.  Curtis,  p.  78,  quotes  Blayney'^s 
Bible  1 769>  as  reading  in  Ps.  cxlviii.  8.  (7)  "  O  God,  the  Lobi)," 
equal,  he  remarks,  to  "  O  Jehovah,  Jehovah!"  Now  this  is 
another  of  Mr.  Curtis's  blunders.  Blayney's  reading,  and  the 
reading  of  many  other  modern  Bibles,  besides  that  of  1769,  is, 

*  O  God  the  Lord.'  This  is  erroneous,  the  true  mode  of  repre- 
senting the  original  being,  '  O  God  the  Lord,'  but  it  does  not 
furnish   the  kind  of  objection  adduced  by  Mr.  Curtis,  *  a  repe- 

*  tition  of  the  word  never  found.'  No  errors  found  in  the  modern 
Bibles  are,  however,  more  in  violation  of  the  Translators'  rules, 
than  instances  of  these  names  which  are  found  in  the  Bible  of 
1611,  and  which  are  four  times  more  numerous  than  Mr.  Curtis 
represents  them  to  be.     What  example  in  Blayney's  text  is  worse 


The  Bible^Printing  Monopoly,  533 

•  •  ■ 

than  2  Chron.  xiii.  6,  in  the  Bible  of  1611,  where  the  term  appro- 
priate to  the  Self-existent  Being  is  referred  to  Kehoboam  ? 

Mr.  Curtis  denies  the  right,  as  in  Blayney^s  case,  of  any  editors 
to  make  critical  alterations  in  the  Bible,  and  insists  that  the 
Translators  themselves  possessed  no  right  whatever  to  make  a 
single  critical  alteration  without  a  renewed  authority.     ^  When 

*  the  commission  was  fulfilled  by  the  delivery  of  the  joint  labours 

*  of  the  Translators  to  his  Majesty ^s  printer,  I  venture  to  contend 

*  that  it  became  in  natural  course  defunct.^  (p.  51.)  On  this 
assertion,  we  do  not  find  it  necessary  for  us  largely  to  remark. 
The  rigid  construction  of  Mr.  Curtis'^s  rule  would,  perhaps,  re- 
quire that  the  Bible,  precisely  as  in  its  first  form  in  loll,  should 
be  transmitted  to  the  readers  of  all  coming  times.  For,  if  the  au- 
thority of  which  he  speaks  was  necessary  in  respect  to  critical 
alterations,  it  would  seem  to  be  necessary  in  respect  to  altera- 
tions of  every  description.  It  might  sometimes  be  very  difficult 
to  distinguish  typographical  errata  from  errors  of  a  critical  kind. 
But  to  this  question  it  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  refer  more  par- 
ticularly. Our  present  object  has  been,  the  examination  of  the 
charges  which  represent  the  present  state  of  the  English  Bibles 
as  so  deteriorated  and  corrupted  as  to  be  productive  of  the  evils 
described  by  the  SulvCommittee.  These  charges  we  have  ex- 
amined ;  and  we  assert  without  hesitation  or  difficulty,  that  the 
text  of  Scripture  in  the  English  Bible  is  not  vitiated  by  the 
modem  Italics,  as  the  charges  allege ;  and  that,  in  any  copy  of 
the  Translation  in  common  use,  there  is  nothing  to  be  found 
which  can  render  the  text  of  Scripture  unworthy  of  the  confidence 
of  the  unlearned.  It  is  of  the  utmost  importance,  that  the  refu- 
tation of  such  charges  as  we  find  in  the  Report  of  the  Sub-Com- 
mittee should  go  forth  into  every  part  of  the  country ;  and  those 
classes  of  the  community  amongst  whom  the  Bible  most  largely 
circulates  should  be  told,  that,  in  the  copies  which  have  been  put 
into  their  hands,  there  is  neither  perversion  nor  obscuration  of 
the  truth.  The  Bibles  of  the  Oxford  and  Cambridge  and  Lon- 
don presses  recently  issued  are  most  beautiful  books,  and  certainly, 
in  respect  to  the  important  purposes  of  their  publication  and  use, 
may  be  read  without  distrust.  We  do  not  affirm  them  to  be  im- 
maculate, but  they  afford  no  grounds  for  such  imputations  as  those 
which  have  been,  we  regret  to  say,  so  inconsiderately  and  so  re- 
proachfnlly  directed  against  them. 

Into  the  perfectly  di\^i\nct  question  relating  to  the  cost  to  the 
public  of  the  Bible  monopoly,  or  its  effect  in  restricting  the  cir- 
culation of  the  Scriptures,  we  cannot  here  enter,  but  must  reserve 
it  for  a  future  article. 


VOL.   IX. — N.S. 


3n 


(    534    ) 

Art  V.  The  true  Dignii^  qf  Hummn  Jfaturf^  or  Man  viewed  in 
Relation  to  Immortality*  By  William  Pnvisi  Minister  of  the  CroA 
Chapel^  Hastings,   l^moj  pp.  xxiv.  237*    Iiondon  1830. 

"^^y  E  owe  an  apolc^  to  th^  amiable  and  picms  Author  of  thia 
volume  for  naving  omitted  to  notice  it  on  its  first  appeanmoe^ 
It  is  certainly  deserving  of  our  cordial  recommendation,  bebg 
very  pleadingly  written,  and  well  adapted  to  answer  its  purpose 
of  counteracting  some  prevailing  religious  errors.  The  main  de« 
sign  of  the  Writer  seems  to  be,  to  put  the  reader  on  his  guard 
against  self  deception  in  the  all-important  coucem  of  bis  spiritual 
condition  and  prospects.  We  do  not  think  the  title  nappilv 
chosen;  nor  is  the  Authors  purpose  very  distinctly  intimated* 
It  will  also  detract  from  the  inviting  appearance  of  the  book,  that 
it  is  not  broken  into  chapters  or  sections,  but  runs  on  continuously 
without  a  breathing  place.  This  circumstance  may  seem  immi^ 
terial,  but  it  will  not  be  found  so  in  fact.  Upon  a  subject  which 
excites,  confessedly,  a  small  degree  of  interest  in  the  bosoms  of 
vast  numbers,  it  is  putting  the  perseverance  of  the  reader  to  too 
severe  a  test.  All  that  we  can  say  is,  that  the  perusal  will  repaj 
the  reader  who  is  sufficiently  in  earnest  and  welt  pleased  with  nis 
instructor  to  read  to  the  end.  The  introductoiy  paragraphs^ 
which  border,  more  than  any  other  part,  upon  common  place, 
might  have  been  compressed  with  aQvantage  tp  the  work«  We 
ahail  be  glad  to  see  these  corrections  introduced  in  a  second  edi- 
tion, which,  we  should  hope,  has  by  this  time  been  called  f(^. 

The  admonitory  cautions  contained  in  the  following  paragraphs^ 
will  not  be  deemed  unnecessary  by  any  thoughtful  CnristUB  ac^ 
quainted  with  the  deceitfulnesa  of  his  own  heart 

'  Is  there  not  a  danger  lest>  in  the  midst  of  increasing  eibrts,  and 
loud  and  repeated  calls  from  societies,  and  horn  aealous  individuals, 
for  time,  attention,  and  continued  and  persevering  exertioBs,  hr  tHa 
benefit  of  our  neighbourhood,  of  our  countrvmen,  and  of  the  wsrld  ;«^ 
lest  in  the  hurry  (if  we  may  be  allowed  the  expression)  of  rdyigioiia 
secularities,  the  anxieties  of  directions,  and  of  committees,  theexdtemeal 
of  public  meetings,  and  of  public  business — is  there  not  a  danger>  lest 
the  very  nature  of  religion  itself,  as  a  personal  thing,  may  be  mistaken ; 
and  safety  token  for  granted,  merely  because  a  feeling  of  interest  has 
been  excited,  on  behdf  of  the  progress  of  the  Gospel  in  the  world  ? 

'  We  may  be  allowed  to  suppose,  that  the  minds  of  some  are  im- 
pressed with  the  dangerous  idea,  that  something  of  merit  attaches  to 
all  this  activity,  in  which  they  participate ;  while  there  are  others  who;, 
fearing  to  regard  their  benevolent  exertions  as  meritorious,  are  proba* 
bly,  too  much  inclined  to  look  to  this  quarter  for  the  most  satisnictoiy 
evidence  of  their  safety.  There  is  certainly  danger  here.  We  refo 
not  to  the  fact  that  many  who  have  been  at  the  greatest  remove,  both 
in  title  and  in  heart,  from  a  right  to  the  heavenly  inheritance^  and  a 
qualification  for  the  enjoyment  of  it,  have  been  in  every  age,  number- 


Oftvis's  tnie  Digyilty  of  Human  Nature.  636 

ed  among  the  most  dsealous  advocates  oi  the  tfuth.  We  refer  not  to 
party  bi^ts^  nor  to  the  hot-headed,  but  eold  hearted  zeal  which^  like 
that  of  Jehu,  had  self  for  iU  object.  But  we  allude  to  that  love  of 
exertion,  which  appears  so  natural  to  some ;  and  to  that  delight  in  the 
Improving  smiles  of  our  fellow-men,  which  comes  with  a  charm  so 
aoothing  on  our  self-complacent  feelings.  All  this,  so  far  as  regards 
the  true  interest  of  our  immortal  souls,  may  leave  us  as  wholly  desti- 
tute of  spiritual  benefit,  as  it  found  us.  Or  it  may  have  an  effect  posi- 
tively injurious,  it  may  inflate  our  minds  with  vanity  and  pride,  and 
assimilate  us  to  the  character  of  the  man,  who  with  raised  eye,  bended 
knees,  and  a  voice  sufficiently  audible,  commended  his  piety  to  those  who 
were  around  him  :  who  received  their  applause  ;  ana  in  that  applause^ 
had  all  the  reward  he  sought,  and  even  more  than  he  deserved.  It 
will  be  allowed  that  we  have  the  highest  authority  for  affirming  that 
he  adopts  not  the  method  appointed  by  divine  wisdom  and  love  for  the 
salvation  of  the  human  soul,  who  seeks  the  honour  that  cometh  from 
man  in  preference  to  that  which  descends  from  God. 

'  It  becomes  us  therefore,  to  take  heed  that  the  interest  which  we 
feel  on  religious  subjects  in  ^neral,  and  in  the  progress  of  divine 
truth  in  particular,  is  of  the  nsht  kind.  We  call  that  a  spurious  zeal 
for  the  honour  of  God,  which  does  not  begin  with  subduing  sin,  in  the 
breast  of  him  who  is  the  subject  of  it :  and  we  may  denominate  that 
zeal  for  the  promotion  of  the  Gospel,  as  not  the  most  genuine,  which 
expends  its  energies  for  the  good  of  others,  while  it  suf^rs  the  soul  ot 
the  individual  himself,  to  remain  without  the  only  satisfactory  evi- 
dences of  a  state  safe  for  eternity  ;  with  a  heart  lifted  up ;  witn  evil 
passions  unsubdued  ;  with  a  spirit  at  variance  with  that  inculcated  in 
the  Gospel, — without  humility,  without  spiritual  peace  and  joy, — in  a 
Word,  destitute  of  that  mind  which  was  in  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord. 
Separate  from  this  character,  no  zeal  will  avail.  To  produce  this,  is 
one  great  design  of  tiie  Gospel :  and  in  every  case,  in  which  it  is  not 
discoverable,  the  life-giving  power  of  the  religion  of  the  New  Testa- 
mcfnt  has  not  been  experienced. 

'  We  have  thus  ventured  to  intimate,  that  there  is  in  the  present 
day,  a  very  great  necessity  for  examination  as  to  the  state  of  individual 
character  amongst  the  professors  of  religion.  If  we  do  not  require  less 
of  the  religion  of  the  public  meeting,  we  certainly  should  not  be  in- 
jured by  more  of  the  religion  of  the  closet.*  pp.  92 — 95. 

The  AuthoT^s  remarks  on  assurance  are,  upon  the  whole,  judi- 
cious and  scriptural.  We  are  especially  pleased  with  the  follow- 
ing remarks. 

*  There  are  two  powerful  emotions  by  which  the  mind  of  every  genu- 
ine Christian  is  agitated.  These  are  love  and  fear.  Where  love  pre- 
vails, fear  will  be  in  abeyance.  And  where  fear  prevails,  love  will 
become  cold.  Love  is  the  master  principle  of  all  holy  obedience.  It 
is  called,  by  the  sacred  writer,  the  fulfilling  of  the  law.  Obediencef 
therefore,  will  correspond  with  the  strength  and  exercise  of  this  holy 
affection.  If  this  becomes  weakened,  and  its  exercises  are  feeble,  and 
frequently  interrupted,  obedience  will  fail,  temptation  become  power** 
fill,  and  sin,  necessarilv>  ensue.     Ood  has  placed  in  the  bosom  of  all 

3u2 


536  Davis^s  true  Dignity  of  Human  Nature^ 

his  servants  a  principle  of  fear  as  will  as  of  love :  and  where  obedience, 
the  necessary  effect  of  love,  is  absent,  there  fear  will  be  present.  Whe- 
ther we  term  fear  a  gracious  affection,  though  '*  it  have  torment,"  or  a 
mere  slavish  emotion,  its  effect  on  the  character  and  conduct  of  the 
backsliding  and  negligent  professor,  is  unquestionably  beneficiaL 
Fear  of  the  consequences  of  sm  will  induce  abstinence  from  it ;  aDd 
fear  of  the  indignation  of  God,  will  produce  a  desire  to  avert  it.  Where 
there  is  fear  there  will  be  pain ;  but  it  is  a  pain  which  precedes  the 
healing  of  the  moral  malady.  And  when  the  disease  is  removed,  or  in  other 
words,  when  sin  is  abandoned,  love  will  be  in  exercise  ;  and  if  there  be 
a  perfect  exercise  of  this  grace,  it  will  banish  fear.  The  apprehension 
01  the  consequences  of  sin  will  cease,  and  there  will  be  a  well.grounded 
assurance  that  all  the  blessings  of  salvation  are  ours. 

'  Now  we  will  venture  to  affirm,  making  all  due  allowance  for  the 
imperfection  of  our  best  services,  and  the  sin  that  cleaves  to  our  most 
holy  duties,  that  where  love  abounds,  and  where  obedience,  the  fruit  of 
love  is  consequently  found,  that  there,  and  there  only,  will  the  subject 
of  this  holy  affection,  enjoy  a  legitimate  assurance  of  the  divine  ikvoar. 
Under  these  circumstances,  the  Christian's  mountain  will  be  immove- 
able, the  light  of  the  divine  countenance  will  be  beheld,  and  peace  and 
joy  will  dwell  in  the  breast.  But  it  is  not  a  mere  recollection  of  this 
enviable  state  of  the  mind  and  heart,  together  with  a  review  of  the 
corresponding  practice  with  which  it  has  been  accompanied,  that  will 
give  assurance  and  confidence  to  the  bosom,  if,  at  the  period  of  this  re- 
view, the  affection  and  the  practice  be  wanting :  nor  will  any  effort,  on 
the  part  of  the  individual  in  such  circumstances^  to  produce  this  con- 
solatory assurance,  be  permanently  successful.  God  has  inseparably 
connected  a  holy  frame  of  mind,  and  a  righteous  course  of  conduct, 
with  scriptural  confidence  of  an  interest  in  the  great  salvation :  and  it 
will  be  a  vain,  as  it  is  an  unholy  and  antinomain  endeavour,  to  seek  to 
secure  the  latter,  while  concious  to  ourselves  that  we  are  destitute  of 
the  former.  Bold  abstractions,  theoretical  notions,  subtle  distinctions, 
sophistical  reasonings,  may  amuse  and  impose  on  the  intellect,  but  they 
will  give  no  abiding  solace  to  the  heart.'  pp.  163-165. 

If  we  have  any  fault  to  find  with  the  Author'^s  theological 
statements,  it  is,  that  sufficient  prominence  is  not  given  to  the 
Only  source  of  all  religion,  Divine  influence,  and  to  the  means  of  all 
religion,    prayer.     Habitual   prayer   is  stated  to  be  *  one  great 

*  means  of  obtaining  a  consolatory  assurance  of  our  interest  in  the 

*  Divine  favour^;  but  it  is  rather  the  means,  whatever  else  may  be 
requisite  to  the  attainment.  The  doctrine  of  Divine  influence, 
the  grand  reconciler  of  all  theological  difficulties,  the  key-stone 
of  the  Christian  system,  is  more  particularly  the  best  antidote  to 
antinomianism,  speculative  or  practical.  This  doctrine  is  clearly 
recognized  in  the  present  volume.  We  merely  mean  to  suggest, 
that  it  does  not  stand  out  in  due  proportion.  The  genuine  en- 
couragement which  it  is  adapted  to  afford  to  the  sincere  inquirer, 
or  to  the  trembling,  self-diffident,  unassured  believer,  might  have 
been  exhibited  without  danger  of  fostering  delusion  ;  and  it  would 


Rushes  Residence  at  the  Court  of  London.  537 

have  obviated  the  only  objection  to  which,  we  think,  the  volume  is 
open. 

Art.  VI.  A  Residence  at  the  Court  of  London.  By  Richard  Rush, 
Envoy  Extraordinary  and  Minister  Plenipotentiary  from  the 
United  States  of  America,  from  1817  to  1825.  8vo.  pp.  420. 
London,  1833. 

TN  the  unpretending  form  of  a  simple  journal,  Mr.  Rush  has 
here  presented  to  us  a  lively  and  interesting  record  of  the 
impressions  produced  by  his  introduction,  as  American  Minister, 
to  the  highest  grade  of  English  society,  and  by  the  observations 
which  he  had  the  opportunity  of  making  upon  our  political  and 
domestic  institutions,  the  manners  and  customs,  the  wealth  and 
greatness  of  England.  A  residence  of  nearly  eight  years  in  this 
country,  he  frankly  avows,  corrected  many  erroneous  impressions 
he  had  previously  taken  up;  and  he  has  written  this  volume 

*  in  the  spirit  of  good  feeling  towards  Britain,  which  may  be 

*  cherished  by  every  American  compatibly  with  his  superior  love 

*  for  his  own  country,'  and  which,  he  expresses  his  belief,  few 
Americans  fail  to  cherish  who  stay  here  as  long  as  he  did. 
^  Enough  has  been  written  and  said  on  both  sides  to  irritate. 

*  My  desire  is,"  says  Mr.  Rush,  *  and  such  my  effort,  to  soothe.' 
The  volume  is,  indeed,  well  adapted  to  promote  a  cordial  feeling 
between  the  intelligent  classes  in  both  countries.  It  displays  a 
spirit  of  frank  and  manly  courtesy  towards  the  people  of  this 
country,  which  ought  to  shame  us  out  of  the  illiberal  jealousy  and 
spirit  of  detraction  which  have  been  too  often  displayed  towards 
the  Americans.  The  Englishman  may  learn  from  this  volume  to 
appreciate  more  highly  his  own  institutions;  to  estimate  more 
justly  the  political  and  moral  greatness  of  his  own  nation  ;  while 
he  will  at  the  same  time  be  led  to  feel  increased  respect  for  that 
nation  which,  in  all  its  essential  characteristics,  its  laws,  lan- 
guage, literature,  religion,  its  spirit  of  freedom,  commercial  en- 
terprise, and  religious  zeal,  not  only  betrays  its  English  origin, 
but  is  one  with  the  people  of  England.  What  God  has  so  united, 
let  no  one  attempt  to  sunder. 

Mr.  Rush  disclaims  having  attempted  to  scan  all  our  institu- 
tions and  character ;  but  has  merely  thrown  out  brief  and  cursory 
reflections  upon  those  portions  which  fell  under  his  immediate 
observation.  The  opinions,  he  says,  in  which  he  feels  most  con- 
fidence, are  those  which  refer  to  the  wealth  and  power  of  Eng- 
land, and  their  steady  augmentation.  Since  the  time  of  his 
residence  among  us,  great  political  changes  have  taken  place ; 
but,  adds   Mr.  Rush,  '  I   do  not,  at  my  distance,  believe  that 

*  any  essential  changes  will  yet  have  been  produced  by  them, 

*  bearing  upon  the  character  or   habits  of  the  nation.     Those 


638  Ruth's  ReHdence  at  the  Court  of  Landm. 

*  when  the  growth  of  ages,  alter  slowly  in  any  country.    In  Eng- 
^  land,  they  will  come  about  more  slowly  than  in  most  countries.^ 

'  I  went  to  England  again  in  1829.  An  interval  of  four  years  had 
elapsed  ;  yet  I  was  amarcd  at  the  increase  of  London.  The  Brent's 
Park,  which,  when  I  first  knew  the  west-end  of  the  town,  disdosed 
nothing  but  lawns  and  fields,  was  not  a  city*  You  saw  long  rows  of 
lofty  buildings*  in  their  outward  aspect  magnificent.  On  this  whole 
space  was  set  down  a  population  of  probably  not  less  than  fifty  or  sixty 
thousand  souls.  Another  city,  hardly  smaller,  seemed  to  have  sprung 
up  in  the  neighbourhood  of  St.  Pancras  Church  and  the  London  Uni- 
versity. Belgrave  Square,  in  an  opposite  region,  broke  upon  me  with 
like  surprise.  The  road  from  Westminster  Bridge  to  Greenwich  ex- 
hibited for  several  miles  compact  ranges  of  new  houses.  Finchley 
Common,  desolate  in  1819,  was  covered  with  neat  cottages,  and  indeed 
vill.  ges.  In  whatever  direction  I  went,  indications  were  similar.  I 
say  nothing  of  Carlton  Terrace,  for  Carlton  House  was  gone,  or  of  the 
street,  of  two  miles,  from  that  point  to  Park  Crescent,  surpassing  any 
other  in  London,  or  any  that  I  saw  in  Europe.  To  make  room  for 
this  new  and  spacious  street,  old  ones  had  been  pulled  down,  of  which 
no  vestage  remained.  I  could  scarcely,  but  for  the  evidence  of  the 
senses,  have  believed  it  all.  The  historian  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of 
the  Boman  Empire  remarks,  that  the  description,  composed  in  the 
Theodosian  age,  of  the  many  stately  mansions  in  Bome,  might  almost 
excuse  the  exaggeration  of  the  poet ;  that  Bome  contained  a  multitude 
of  palaces,  and  that  each  palace  was  equal  to  a  city.  Is  the  British 
metropolis  advancing  to  that  destiny  ?  Manchester,  Liverpool,  Bir** 
mingham,  and  other  provincial  towns  that  I  visited,  appeared,  on  their 
smaller  scales,  to  have  increased  as  much. 

'  In  the  midst  of  it  all»  nearly  every  newspaper  that  I  opened  rang 
the  changes  upon  the  distress  and  poverty  of  England.  Mr.  Peel's 
bill  banishing  bank-notes  under  ^ve  pounds  from  circulation,  had  re- 
cently passed.  Tliere  was  great  clamour — there  is  always  clamour  at 
something  among  this  people.  Prices  had  follen— trade  was  said  to  be 
irrecoveraably  ruined,  through  the  over-production  of  goods,  I  have 
since  seen  the  state  of  things  at  that  epoch  better  described  perhaps, 
as  the  result  of  an  under-production  of^ money.  Workmen  in  many 
places  were  out  of  employ  ;  there  were  said  to  be  fourteen  thousand  of 
this  description  in  JVlanchester.  I  saw  portions  of  them  walking  along 
the  streets.  Most  of  this  body  had  struck  for  wages.  I  asked  how 
they  subsisted  when  doing  nothing.  It  was  answered,  that  they  had 
laid  up  funds  by  joint  contributions  among  themselves  whilst  engaged 
in  work.  In  no  p»art  of  Liverpool  or  its  extensive  environs  did  I  see 
pauperism  ;  the  paupers  for  that  entire  district  being  kept  within  the 
limits  of  its  poor-house ;  in  which  recepticle  I  was  informed  there 
were  fifteen  hundred.  I  passed  through  the  vale  of  Cheshire;  I  saw 
in  that  fertile  district,  in  Lancashire,  Staffordshire,  Derbyshire,  Lei- 
cestershire, Warwickshire,  Worcestershire,  appearances  of  wide-spread 
prosperity,  in  the  lands,  houses,  canals,  roads,  iiublic  works,  domestic 
animals,  people — in  every  thing  that  the  eye  ot  the  merely  transient 
traveller  took  in.'  pp.  xi. — xiii. 


RusVs  Residence  at  the  Court  of  lAmdon.  639 

Such  are  the  contradictory  elements  of  the  complex  state  of 
•ociety,  which  perplex  the  observation  of  a  stranger  visiting 
this  country.  An  enlightened  member  of  the  diplomatic  corps 
told  Mr.  Bush,  that,  at  the  end  of  his  first  year,  he  thought  he 
knew  England  very  well ;  when  the  third  year  had  gone  by,  he 
be^an  to  have  doubts ;  and  after  a  still  longer  residence,  his 
opmions  were  more  unsettled  than  ever :  some  he  had  changed 
entirely ;  others  had  undergone  modification ;  and  he  knew  not 
what  fate  awaited  the  rest. 

'  There  was  reason  in  his  remark.  If  it  be  not  contradictor7>  I  would 
mkjf  that  he  shewed  his  judgment  in  appearing  to  have  at  present  no 
judgment  at  all.  The  stranger  sees  in  England^  prosperity  the  most 
«mazing>  with  what  seems  to  strike  at  the  roots  of  all  prosperity.  He 
sees  the  most  profuse  expenditure^  not  by  the  nobles  alone>  but  large 
classes  besides ;  and,  throughout  classes  fiar  larger,  the  most  resolute 
induatry  supplying  its  demands  and  repairing  its  waste ;  taxation 
strafaiea  to  the  utmost,  with  an  ability  unparalleled  to  meet  it ;  pauper- 
ism that  is  startling,  with  public  and  private  charity  unfiling,  to  reed, 
clothe,  and  house  it ;  the  boldest  freedom,  with  submission  to  law ; 
ignorance  and  crime  so  widely  diffused  as  to  appal,  with  genius  and 
latrning  and  virtue  to  reassure ;  intestine  commotions  predicted,  and 
never  happening ;  constant  complaints  of  poverty  and  suDering,  with 
ooastant  increase  in  aggregate  wealth  and  power.  These  are  some  of 
the  anomalies  which  he  sees.  How  is  he  at  once  to  pass  upon  them 
all  ?  he,  a  stranger,  when  the  foremost  of  the  natives  after  studying 
them  a  lifetime,  do  nothing  but  differ ! ' 

The  civil  festival  on  the  9th  of  November,  on  which  occasion 
Mr.  Rush  dined  at  Guildhall,  suggests  the  following  reflections^ 
which  must  be  gratifying  to  all  but  those  incorrigible  croeiier^ 
who  delight  in  predictions  of  evil. 

'  I  should  not  soon  have  done  if  I  were  to  mention  all  the  instanoea 
of  which  I  chanced  on  this  occasion, to  hear,  of  riches  among  mechanics, 
artirans,  and  others,  engaged  in  the  common  walks  of  business  in  this 
great  city.  I  heard  of  haberdashers  who  cleared  thirty  thousand 
pounds  sterling  a-year,  by  retail  shop-keeping ;  of  brewers  whose 
buildings  and  fixtures  necessary  to  carry  on  business,  cost  fonr  huA« 
dred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds ;  of  silversmiths  worth  half  a  million  ; 
of  a  person  in  Exeter  Change,  who  made  a  fortune  of  a  hundred 
thousand  pounds,  chiefly  by  making  and  selling  razors ;  of  job^hcrse 
men,  who  neld  a  hundred  and  forty  thousand  pounds  in  the  Three  per 
Cents  ;  and  of  confectioners  and  woollen  drapers  who  had  funded  sums 
still  larger.  Of  the  higher  order  of  merchants,  bankers,  and  capitalists 
of  that  stamp,  many  of  whom  were  present,  whose  riches  I  heard  of, 
I  am  unwilling  to  speak,  lest  I  should  seem  to  exaggerate.  I  have 
given  enough.  During  the  late  war  with  France,  it  is  said  that  thera 
were  once  recruited  in  a  single  day  in  the  country  between  Man-% 
Chester  and  Birmingham,  two  thousand  able-bodied  working  men  fbv 
the  British  army.     It  is  the  country  so  remarkable  fur  its  coUierits^ 


540  Rushes  ReMenee  ai  ike  Court  of  London. 

iron-iniiiet/aiid  blast-fiiniscet.  lu  niHaoe  is  desolate.  A  portkm  of 
it  is  sometimes  called  the  fire  coantij>  firom  the  flames  that  issoe  in 
rolling  Tolames  from  the  loft j  tops  of  the  furnaces.  Seen  all  around 
bj  the  traveller  at  night,  ther  present  a  sight  that  may  be  called 
awfbl.  Sometimes  yon  are  told  that  human  beings  are  at  work  in 
the  boweb  of  the  earth  beneath  yon.  A  member  of  the  diplomttic 
corps,  on  hearing  of  the  above  enlistment,  remarked,  that  could  Bona- 
mrte  have  known  that  hct,  and  seen  the  whole  region  of  conntrr 
nrom  which  the  men  came,  seen  the  evidences  of  opulence  and  straigth 
in  its  public  works,  its  manufMSturing  establishments  and  towns,  and 
abundant  agriculture,  notwithstanding  the  alleged  or  real  pauperism 
of  some  of  the  districts,  it  would  of  itself  have  induced  hun  to  give 
over  the  project  of  invading  England. 

'  In  like  manner,  let  any  one  go  to  a  lord  mayor's  dinner;  let  him 
be  told  of  the  sums  owned  bv  those  he  will  see  around  him  and  others 
he  will  hear  of,  not  inheritea  fitym  ancestors,  but  self-acquired  by  in- 
dividual industry  in  all  ways  in  which  the  hand  and  mind  of  man  can 
be  employed,  and  he  will  be  backward  at  predicting  the  ruin  of  Eng- 
land from  any  of  her  present  financial  difficulties.  Predictions  of 
this  nature  have  been  repeated  for  ages,  but  have  not  come  to  pass. 

'  Rich  subjects  make  a  rich  nation.  As  the  former  increase  so  will 
the  means  of  filling  the  coffers  of  the  latter.  Let  contemporary  nations 
lay  it  to  their  account,  that  England  is  more  powerful  now  than  ever 
she  was,  notwithstanding  her  debt  and  taxes.  This  knowledge  should 
form  an  element  in  their  foreign  policy.  Let  them  assure  themselves 
that  instead  of  declining  sheis  adfvancing ;  and  that  her  population  in- 
creases fast ;  that  she  is  constantly  seeking  new  fields  of  enterprise  in 
other  parts  of  the  globe,  and  adding  to  the  improvements  that  already 
cover  tier  island  at  home  new  ones  that  promise  to  go  beyond  them  in 
magnitude  ;  in  fine,  that  instead  of  being  worn  out,  as  at  a  distance  is 
sometimes  supposed,  she  is  going  a-head  with  the  buoyant  spirit  and 
vigorous  effort  of  youth.  It  is  un  observation  of  Madame  de  Stael, 
how  ill  England  is  understood  on  the  continent,  in  spite  of  the  little 
distance  that  separates  her  from  it.  How  much  more  likely  that  na- 
tions between  whom  and  herself  an  ocean  interposes  should  fall  into 
mistakes  on  the  true  nature  of  her  power  and  prospects  ;  should  ima- 
gine their  foundations  to  be  crumbling,  instead  of  steadily  striking  in- 
to more  depth,  and  spreading  into  wider  compass.  Britain  exists  all 
over  the  world  in  her  colonies.  These  alone  give  her  the  means  of 
advancing  her  industry  and  opulence  for  ages  to  come.  They  are  por- 
tions of  her  territory  more  valuable  than  if  joined  to  her  island.  The 
sense  of  distance  is  destroyed  by  her  command  of  ships ;  whilst  that 
distance  serves  as  a  feeder  of  her  commerce  and  marine.  Situated  on 
every  continent,  lying  in  every  latitude,  these,  her  out-dominions, 
make  her  the  centre  of  a  trade  already  vast  and  perpetually  augment- 
ing— a  home  trade  and  a  foreign  trade — for  it  yields  the  riciies  of  both, 
as  she  controuls  it  all  at  her  will.  They  take  off  her  redundant  popu- 
lation, vet  make  her  more  populous ;  and  are  destined,  under  the 
policy  already  commenced  towards  them,  and  which  in  time  she  will 
tar  more  extensively  pursue,  to  expand  her  empire,  commercial,  manu- 


Rushes  Residence  at  the  Court  of  London.  541 

facturing,  and  maritime^  to  dimensions  to  which  it  would  not  be  easy 
to  affix  limits.'     pp.  390—93. 

Speaking  of  our  national  debt,  Mr.  Rush  remarks,  that,  as  an 
absolute  sum  it  must  strike  the  world  as  enormous ;  but  that  it 
loses  this  character  when  viewed  in  connexion  with  the  resources 
of  Great  Britain,  which  have  increased  in  a  ratio  greater  than 
her  debt.  In  proof  of  this  position,  he  adduces  the  fact,  that  in 
the  face  of  this  debt,  our  Government  could,  at  any  moment  bor- 
row from  British  capitalists  fresh  sums,  larger  than  were  ever 
borrowed  before,  and  than  could  be  raised  by  the  united  exertions 
of  the  Governments  of  Europe. 

'  Credit  so  unbounded  can  rest  only  upon  the  known  extent  and  so- 
lidity of  her  resources  ;  upon  her  agricultural,  manufacturing,  and 
commercial  riches ;  the  first  coming  from  her  highly  cultivated  soil 
and  its  exhaustless  mines,  not  of  gold  and  silver,  but  iron  and  coal,  for 
ever  profitably  worked ;  the  second,  from  the  various  and  universal 
labour  bestowed  on  raw  materials,  which  brings  into  play  all  the  in- 
dustry of  her  people,  suffering  none  to  be  lost  for  want  of  objects ; 
the  third,  from  a  system  of  navigation  and  trade,  followed  up  for  ages, 
which  enables  her  to  send  to  every  part  of  the  globe  the  products  of 
this  vast  and  diversified  industry,  after  supplying  all  her  own  wants. 
This  system  of  navigation  and  trade  is  greatly  sustained  by  a  colonial 
empire  of  gigantic  size,  that  perpetually  increases  the  demand  for  her 
manufactures,  and  favours  the  monopoly  of  her  tonnage.  These  are 
the  visible  foundations  of  her  incalculable  riches ;  consequently  of  her 
credit.     Both  seem  incessantly  augmenting.'  pp.  248,  9. 

These  remarks  would  suggest  matter  for  extended  comment, 
but  we  waive  any  reflections  of  our  own,  and  shall  proceed  to  give 
a  specimen  or  two  of  the  lighter  portions  of  the  Journal.  The 
splendours  of  the  English  Court  appear  to  have  had  a  fascinating 
effect  upon  the  Writer's  imagination,  without,  however,  putting 
him  out  of  conceit  with  the  simpler  habits  and  customs  of  repub- 
lican society.  The  following  description  is  given  of  the  Queen's 
drawing-room. 

*  The  doors  of  the  rooms  were  all  open.  You  saw  in  them  a  thou- 
sand ladies  richly  dressed.  All  the  colours  of  nature  were  mingling 
their  rays  together.  It  was  the  first  occasion  of  laying  by  mourning 
for  the  Princess  Charlotte,  so  that  it  was  like  the  bursting  out  of 
spring.  No  lady  was  without  her  plume.  The  whole  was  a  waving 
field  of  feathers.  Some  were  blue,  like  the  sky ;  some  tinged  with 
red ;  here  you  saw  violet  and  yellow ;  there,  shades  of  green ;  but 
the  most  were  hke  tufts  of  snow.  The  diamonds  encircling  them 
caught  the  sun  through  the  windows,  and  threw  dazzling  beams 
around.  Then  the  hoops !  I  cannot  describe  these.  They  should  be 
seen.  To  see  one  is  nothing.  But  to  see  a  thousand— and  their  thou- 
sand wearers  !  1  afterwards  sat  in  the  ambassadors'  box  at  a  corona- 
tion. That  sight  faded  before  this.  Each  lady  seemed  to  rise  out  of 
a  gilded  little  barricade,  or  one  of  silvery  texture.     This,  topped  by 

VOL.  IX.  —  N.s.  3  X 


fii2  BiuVs  Residence  at  the  Court  of  London, 

^er  plume^  and  the  *  face  dirine  *  interposing,  gave  to  the  whole  an 
effect  so  unique,  so  fraught  with  feminine  grace  and  grandeur,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  a  curtain  had  risen  to  show  a  pageant  in  another  sphere. 
It  was  brilliant  and  joyous.  Those  to  whom  it  was  not  new,  stood  at 
gaze,  as  I  did.  Canning  for  one.  His  fine  eye  took  it  all  in.  Yoo 
saw  admiration  in  the  gravest  statesmen  ;  Lord  Liverpool,  Huskisson, 
the  Lord  Chancellor,  every  body.  I  had  already  seen  in  Englandi 
Kgns  enough  of  opulence  and  power;  now  I  saw,  radiating  on  all 
aides,  British  beauty.  My  own  country  I  believed  was  destined  to  a 
Just  measure  of  the  two  first;  and  I  had  the  inward  assurance  that  my 
countrywomen  were  the  inheritresses  of  the  last.  Matre  pulchra  Jtlia 
pulchrwr.   So  appeared  the  drawing-room  of  Queen  Charlotte/  p.  103* 

We  must  select,  as  our  last  specimen,  an  account  of  a  dinner  at 
Jeremy  Bentham^s. 

'  From  my  house  north  of  Portman  Square,  I  was  driven  nearly 
three  miles  through  streets  for  the  most  part  long  and  wide,  until  I 
passed  Westminster  Abbey.  Thereabouts,  things  changed.  The 
streets  grew  narrow.  Houses  seemed  falling  down  with  age.  The 
crowds  were  as  thick,  but  not  so  good-looking,  as  about  Cornhill  and 
the  Poultry.  In  a  little  while  I  reached  the  purlieus  of  Queen  Square 
Place.  The  farther  I  advanced,  the  more  confined  was  the  space.  At 
length  turning  through  a  gateway,  the  passage  was  so  narrow  that  I 
thought  the  wheels  would  have  grazed.  It  was  a  kind  of  blind-alley, 
the  end  of  which  winded  into  a  small,  neat,  court-yard.  There,  by 
itself,  stood  Mr.  Bentham's  house.  Shrubbery  graced  its  area,  and 
flowers  its  window-sills.  It  was  like  an  oasis  in  the  desert.  Its  name 
is  the  Hermitage. 

'  Entering  he  received  me  with  the  simplicity  of  a  philosopher.  I 
should  have  taken  him  for  seventy  or  upwards.  Every  thing  inside 
of  the  house  was  orderly.  The  furniture  seemed  to  have  been  un- 
moved since  the  days  o/  his  fathers  ;  for  I  learned  that  it  n^as  a  patri- 
mony. A  parlour,  library,  and  dining-room,  made  up  the  suite  of 
apartments.  In  each  was  a  piano,  the  eccentric  master  of  the  whole 
being  fond  of  music  as  the  recreation  of  his  literary  hours.  It  was  a 
unique,  romantic  little  homestetul.  Walking  with  him  into  his  garden, 
I  found  it  dark  with  the  shade  of  ancient  trees.  They  formed  a  bar- 
rier against  all  intrusion.  In  one  part  was  a  high  dead  wall,  the  back 
of  a  neighbour's  house.  It  was  dark  and  almost  mouldering  with  time. 
In  that  house,  he  informed  me,  ]Milton  had  lived.  Perceiving  that  I 
took  an  interest  in  hearing  it,  he  soon  afterwards  obtained  a  relic,  and 
sent  it  to  me.  It  was  an  old  carved  baluster,  from  the  staircase,  which 
there  was  reason  to  think  the  hand  of  the  great  bard  had  often  grasped 
— so  said  the  note  that  accompanied  the  relic. 

*  The  company  was  small,  but  choice.  Mr.  Brougham,  Sir  Samuel 
Romilly,  Mr.  Mill,  author  of  the  well-known  work  on  India,  M.  Du- 
mont,  the  learned  Genevan,  once  the  associate  of  Mirabean,  were  all 
who  sat  down  to  table.  Mr.  Bentham  did  not  talk  much.  He  had  a 
benevolence  of  manner,  suited  to  the  philanthropy  of  his  mind.  He 
seemed  to  be  thinking  only  of  the  convenience  and  pleasure  of  his 
guests,  not  as  a  rule  of  artihcial  breeding,  as  from  Chesterfield  or  Mia* 


Busby's  Residence  at  the  Court  of  London,  fi48 

dame  Oenlis  ;  but  from  innate  feeling.  Bold  are  bis  opinions  in  bis 
works^  here  he  was  wholly  unobtrusive  of  theories  that  might  not  have 
commanded  the  assent  of  all  present.  Something  else  was  remarkable. 
When  he  did  converse,  it  was  in  simple  language,  a  contrast  to  his 
later  writings,  where  an  involved  style,  and  the  use  of  new  or  unusual 
words,  are  drawbacks  upon  the  speculations  of  a  genius  original  and 
profound,  but  with  the  faults  of  solitude.  Yet  some  of  his  earlier  pro- 
auctions  are  distinguished  by  classical  terseness. 

*  Mr.  Brougham  talked  with  rapidity  and  energy.  There  is  a 
quickness  in  his  bodily  movements  indicative  of  the  quickness  of 
bis  thoughts.  He  showed  in  conversation  the  universality  and  die* 
cipline  that  he  exhibits  in  Parliament  and  Courts  of  Law.  The  af- 
foirs  of  South  America,  English  authors,  Johnson,  Pope,  Swift,  Milton^ 
Dryden,  Addison,  (the  criticisms  of  the  last  on  Paradise  Lost,  he 
thought  poor  things)  ;  anecdotes  of  the  living  Judges  of  England  ;  of 
Lord  Chancellors,  living  and  dead ;  the  errors  in  Burrow's  Reports, 
not  always  those  of  the  reporter,  he  said  ;  the  Universities  of  Oxford 
and  Cambridge ;  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States — these  were 
topics  that  he  touched  with  the  promptitude  and  power  of  a  master. 
He  quoted  from  the  ancient  classics,  and  poets  of  modern  Italy,  (the 
latter  in  the  original  also,)  not  with  the  ostentation  of  scholarship^ 
which  he  is  above,  but  as  if  they  came  out  whether  they  would  or  no 
amidst  the  multitude  of  his  ideas  and  illustrations.  He  handled 
nothing  at  length,  but  with  a  happy  brevity;  the  rarest  art  ia 
conversation,  when  loaded  with  matter  like  his.  Sometimes  be  des- 
patched a  subject  in  a  parenthesis ;  sometimes  by  a  word,  that  told 
like  a  blow.  Not  long  after  this  my  first  meeting  with  him,  one  of  his 
friends  informed  me  that  a  gentleman  whose  son  was  about  to  study 
law,  asked  him  what  books  he  ought  to  read.  "  Tell  him  to  begin 
with  Demosthenes  and  Dante." — *^  What,  to  make  a  lawyer  }  "  said 
tbe  father. — *'  Yes,"  he  replied,  and  "  if  you  don't  take,  we  won't 
argue  about  it."  Mr.  Mill,  M.  Dumont,  and  Sir  Samuel  Romilly, 
did  their  parts  in  keeping  up  the  ball  of  conversation.  Sheridan  being 
spoken  of.  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  who  had  often  heard  him  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  said  ''  that  nothing  could  be  more  marked  than  the  dif- 
ference between  the  parts  of  his  speeches  previously  written  out,  and 
the  extemporaneous  parts.  The  audience  could  discover  in  a  momeat 
when  he  fell  into  the  latter.  It  was  well  known,"  he  added,  '*  that 
all  the  highly  wrought  passages  in  his  speeches  on  Hastings'  impeach- 
ment, were  prepared  beforehand  and  committed  to  memory." 

After  we  rose  from  table,  Mr.  Bentham  sought  conversation  with 
me  about  the  United  States.  "  Keep  your  salaries  low,"  said  he ; 
'*  it  is  one  of  the  secrets  of  the  success  of  your  Go^'emment. — But^ 
what  is  this,"  he  inquired,  *'  called  a  Botird  of  Navy  Commissioners 
that  you  have  lately  set  up  ?  I  don't  understand  it."  I  explained  it 
to  him.  "I  can't  say  that  I  like  it,"  he  replied  ;  "  the  simplicity  of 
your  public  departments  has  heretofore  been  one  of  their  recommenda*< 
tions,  but  hoards  make  skreens  ;  if  any  thing  goes  wrong,  you  don't 
know  where  to  find  the  offender ;  it  was  the  board  that  did  it,  not  one 
of  the  members ;  always  the  board,  the  board !  *'  I  got  home  at  a 
late  hour,  having  witnessed  a  degree  of  intellectual  point  and  strength' 

3x2 


544  Free  and  Slave  Labour. 

throughout  the  whole  evening,  not  easily  to  have  been  exceeded.* 
pp.  2»i--291. 


Art.  VII,  1.  Wages  or  the  Whip.  An  Essay  on  the  Comparative 
Cost  and  Productiveness  of  Free  and  Slave  Labour.  By  Josiah 
Conder,  Author  of"  The  Modern  Traveller",  "  Italy",  &c  8vo. 
pp.  92.     Price  2«.  6</.     London,  1833. 

2.  A  Vindication  of  a  Loan  of  i:i5,000,000  to  the  West  India 
Planters,  shewing  that  it  may  not  only  be  lent  with  perfect  safety 
but  with  immense  advantage  both  to  the  West  Indians  and  to  the 
people  of  England.     By  James  Cropper.    8vo.     Price  6d, 

3*  A  Letter  from  Legion  to  the  Right  Hon.  E.  G.  Stanley y  S^c.  4^.  Sfc, 
Secretary  of  State  for  the  Colotnes,  upon  his  Scheme  for  the  Abo- 
lition of  Colonial  Slavery.  8vo.  pp.  32.  Price  Is,  London,  1833. 

rVF  the  first  of  these  pamphlets  we  shall  say  nothing  more,  than 
that  it  comprises  a  mass  of  documentary  evidence  abundantly 
attesting  the  correctness  of  the  proposition,  that  Slavery  is  a 
political  blunder.  Slave  labour  is  shewn  to  be  dearer  in  its  prime 
cost,  dearer  from  its  inferior  productiveness,  dearer  from  the 
waste  and  bad  economy  to  which  it  uniformly  leads,  dearer  from 
the  capital  sunk,  and  dearer  from  the  state  expenditure  which  it 
entails.  The  enormous  expense  of  uncertain  profits  of  cultivation 
by  alave  labour  are  shewn  to  be,  according  to  the  highest  autho- 
rities, from  Bryan  Edwards  down  to  Earl  Belmore,  the  main 
cause  of  the  present  distressed  state  of  the  planters.  And  finally, 
the  practicability  of  securing  a  regular  supply  of  free  labour  m 
the  sugar  colonies  is  established  by  facts  drawn  from  official 
documents  and  other  sources,  relating  to  the  effects  of  eman- 
cipation on  manumitted  negroes,  and  to  the  success  with  which 
plantations  are  worked  by  free  labour  in  the  Spanish  colonies. 
Slavery,  however,  it  is  remarked,  must  be  abolished,  with  the 
burdens  it  entails  before  the  motive  to  eniploy  the  cheaper  labour 
of  the  freeman  or  to  economize  the  dear  labour  of  the  slave,  can 
come  into  operation.  No  plan  of  emancipation  can  be  either 
effective  or  safe  that  is  not  of  a  decisive  character. 

'  It  must  not  attempt  to  combine  the  two  opposite  and  incompatible 
systems  of  free  and  slave  labour.  It  must  not  superadd  the  cost  of 
free  labour  to  the  waste  and  burden  of  slavery.  It  must  not  destroy 
coercion,  by  a  plan  which  supplies  no  motives  for  labour ;  which  pre- 
cludes alike  the  stimulus  of  competition,  the  sense  of  gratitude,  or  the 
immediate  prospect  of  advantage.  It  must  not  detain  upon  the  plant- 
ations that  redundant  portion  of  labour  which  might  be  altogether 
economized  by  a  better  system.  It  must  not  continue  to  hang  a  dead 
weight  upon  the  elastic  springs  of  human  industry,  while  the  ma- 
chinery 18  yet  expected  to  work  without  embarrasament.    The  sab- 


Free  and  Slave  Labour.  545 

ttitution  of  free  labour  for  bond  labour  of  every  description  can  alone 
indemnify  the  planter  for  the  loss  of  his  living  capital^  and  redeem 
him  from  the  effect  of  the  standing  economical  blunder  in  which  he 
has  so  long  and  so  fatally  persisted.  Slavery  must  be  abolished.  Its 
total  abolition  will  carry  compensation  with  it.  Any  thing  short  of 
entire  and  immediate  emancipation  will  fail  of  its  object;  will  be 
ruinous  to  the  planter,  unjust  to  the  slave,  unsafe  to  the  colonies,  and, 
in  a  word,  not  merely  impolitic,  but  impracticable.' 

Mr.  Cropper  takes  a  similar  view  of  the  necessity  of  a  total 
abolition  of  slavery  in  order  to  the  realizing  of  any  of  the  advant- 
ages to  be  derived  from  the  proposed  loan ;  but  slavery  being 
abolished,  he  proves  by  the  logic  of  arithmetical  calculations, 
that  the  advance  may  be  made  without  hazard,  and  with  great 
benefit  to  all  parties,  which  is  designed  to  relieve  the  planter 
from  his  present  embarrassments,  and  to  enable  him  to  dis- 
entangle himself  at  once  from  the  expenses  of  slavery  and  of  his 
commercial  bondage.  Mr.  Cropper  has  shewn,  that  what  would 
be  saved  to  this  country  by  the  abolition  of  slavery,  with  the 
burdens  it  entails,  would  enable  Government  to  deal  liberally  with 
the  West  India  Colonists. 

Mr.  Stanley''s  plan  of  emancipation  is  an  ingenious  one  ;  and 
twenty  years  ago  it  might  have  been  possible  to  make  the  experi- 
ment he  proposes ;  although,  in  the  working,  it  would  assuredly 
have  failed.  In  the  present  state  of  things,  it  would  be  alike 
perilous  and  impracticable.  *  It  is  founded,'  as  the  Author  of  the 
Letter  from  Legion  remarks,  '  on  two  propositions,  each  of  which 

*  is  self  contradictory  in  its  enunciation,  and  iniquitous  in  its 

*  operation.     1.  The  slave  is  entitled  to  his  freedom,  and  there- 

*  fore  he  shall  redeem  himself.     2.  The  slave  is  unfitted,  by  long 

*  and  brutal  coercion,  for  the  discharge  of  spontaneous  labour,  and 

*  therefore,  for  twelve  years  to  come,  he  shall  be  compelled  to 

*  three  parts  of  his  labour  by  coercive  means.**  With  legal  acute- 
ness,  this  Writer,  who  is  generally  understood  to  be  the  son  of  the 
late  distinguished  philanthropist  James  Stephen,  Esq.  dissects 
the  ministerial  plan,  and  exposes  its  illusive,  crude,  unjust,  and 
visionary  character.  Even  the  best,  because  the  most  specific 
part  of  the  plan,  the  liberation  of  the  children,  is  shewn  to  be 
open  to  fatal  objections,  the  very  principle  of  the  condition  with 
which  it  is  encumbered  being  unjust  and  cruel. 

'  Slavery  is  offered  as  the  alteniative  of  maintaining  them,  when  the 
very  means  of  maintenance  are  taken  away.  Ex  hypothesi  the  parent's 
wages  must  be  accumulated  to  redeem  his  own  freedom.  If  he  takes 
one  sixpence  from  the  sacred  hoard,  his  own  emancipation  is  deferred. 
All  the  time  which  can  reasonably  be  exacted  for  labour  through  the 
day,  is  appropriated  to  his  master,  or  to  his  own  redemption.  Yet 
you  most  ingeniously  propose  that  he  shall  find  means  to  clothe  and 
feed  his  child,  under  toe  penalty  of  exposing  that  child  to  a  longer 


546^^  Free  and  Slave  Labour, 

bondi^  than  himself !     Is  it  not  cruel>  is  it  not  unnatoralj  to  create 
this  distressing  competition   between   paternal  affection   and  selfish 
interest  ?    You  do  not  even  propose  that  the  child  shall  receive  wages ; 
if  tbiti  is  intended^  and  on  the  same  scale  of  proportion  between  hii 
value  and  his  time,  why  is  his  servitude  to  be  of  longer  duration  than 
his  parents  ?     To  be  consistent  it  should  be  less,  because  if  his  tenier 
years  admit  of  education  in  moral  habits  with  greater  certainty,  he 
need  not  serve  so  long  a  noviciate  to  qualify  him  for  the  rights  of 
citizenship ;  the  only  reason  that  you  assign  for  the  long  apprentice- 
ship of  the  adult.     But  there  are  other  yet  more  serious  objections  to 
this  part  of  the  scheme.     In  the  first  place  you  know,  or  ought  to 
know,  that  in  the  cane  of  plantation  slaves,  the  father  of  the  child  ii 
too  often  unknown  even  to  its  mother ;  nor  is  the  rdation  more  likely 
to  be  acknowledged  when  it  entails  with  it  a  pecuniary  burthen,  and  a 
serious  personal  sacrifice  ;  the  option,  therefore,  which  you  give,  serves 
very  well  to  cheat  the  superficial  enquirer  into  an  acquiescence  in  the 
reasonableness  of  an  infant  apprenticeship,  but  in   &ct  it  will  but 
rarely  furnish  a   solid  hope  of  redeeming  the   poor   child  from  his 
eighteen  years  of  servitude.     It  would  have  been  more  honest  to  have 
enacted  at  once,  that  all  children  shall  be  apprenticed  to  the  age  of 
20  or  24,  for  such  must  be  the  case  at  least  nine  times  out  of  ten.    I 
hate  this  artful  cloaking  of  a  general  rule  in  the  guise  of  an  exception. 
The  general  rule  will  be  the  18  years  of  servitude — the  parental  main- 
tenance will  be  the  exception ;  and  this  should  have  been  the  honest 
avowal  made  to  the  anti-slavery  party.      They   have  lately  heard 
enough  of  infant  slavery  to  comprehend  its  meaning.     I  suspect  that 
on  second  thoughts,  they  will  scarcely  hail  with  much  satisfaction  this 
threatened  emigration  of  it  to  our  colonies. 

^  But  again :  you  cannot  but  be  aware  that  one  of  the  most  offen- 
sive and  intolerable  of  all  the  incidents  of  slavery,  is  the  subjection  of 
young  females  to  the  power  of  their  owners.  Is  your  long  apprentice- 
ship likely  to  remove  this  evil  ?  Will  it  diminish  opportunity,  or  re- 
strict the  power  of  compulsion  ?  I  will  not  say  that  it  will  have  the 
contrary  effect,  but  it  appears  to  me  most  likely  to  leave  matters 
exactly  where  they  were/ 

The  scheme  of  apprenticed  labour  must  be  abandoned.  Where 
it  has  been  tried,  as  at  the  Cape  Colony,  it  has  been  found  alike 
oppressive  and  unprofitable.  The  West  India  proprietors  are 
beginning  to  perceive,  that  if  the  cry  for  the  abolition  of  slavery 
is  to  prevail,  it  will  be  for  their  own  interest  to  consent  to  imme- 
diate and  total  abolition,  rather  to  any  half  measures.  To  them, 
the  compromise  proposed  would  be  ruinous,  since  it  would  well 
nigh  double  the  cost  of  cultivation^  without  securing  to  them  any 
adequate  equivalent. 

It  is  believed,  however,  that  Ministers  will  not  persist  in  this 
part  of  the  plan,  and  that  modification  will  be  pro})osed  that  will 
essentially  change  its  whole  character.  The  scheme  of  self- 
redemption  must  also  be  given  up.  The  negro,  at  least,  owes  no 
compensation.  As  to  the  loan,  it  may  go  down  with  emancipa- 
tion, but  certainly  not  without  it 


Literary  Intelligence.  647 

*  It  has  been  observed,  "  You  cannot  object  to  a  loan  on  West  Indian 
Kcurity ;  for  you  contend  that  its  value  will  be  improved  by  eman- 
cipation/' I  admit  that  we  do  so ;  but  it  must  be  emancipaton  on 
oar  own  terms.  It  must  be  total  and  immediate ;  no  longer  deferred 
thsn  till  an  efficient  police  can  be  established.  It  must  not  be  a  partial 
dilated  measure,  breaking  up  one  relation  of  the  parties,  to  substitute 
mother  of  equal  hardship  and  more  dithcult  operation.  This  is  on- 
letlliog  one  system,  which,  bad  as  it  is,  can  work,  and  replacing  it 
with  another,  with  such  a  jumble  of  bad  and  good,  that  it  becomes  in- 
aperative  as  a  stimulus  to  labour,  though  it  retains  the  crnel  coercive 
principle.  We  must  not  be  fixed  with  an  indemnitv  against  a  risk 
essentially  different  from  that  which  we  proposed.  It  is  what  the 
nnder writers  call  a  deviation  from  the  policy :  of  course  it  discharges 
oar  liability.' 

We  could  have  wished  that  the  zeal  of  "  Legion  "^  had  been 
somewhat  more  tempered  by  courtesy.  Such  language  and  such 
reasoning  as  we  meet  with  at  pp.  21,  22,  are  unworthy  of  the 
eause,  and  more  adapted  to  give  pain  and  just  offence  than  to 
convince.  The  warmth  of  the  Writer's  feelings  does  him  honour, 
but  his  judgement  should  hold  a  tighter  rein. 


Art.  VIII.     LITERARY  INTELLIGENCE. 

Mr.  Atkinson,  of  Glasgow,  has,  we  understand,  employed  the  leisure 
of  a  lingering  illness,  during  the  last  winter,  in  preparing  a  complete 
series  of  the  works  of  The  Scottish  Poets,  with  Biographical  Notices; 
after  the  manner  of  Dr.  Southcy  and  Dr.  Aikin's  volumes  of  the  Early 
and  more  Recent  British  Poets.     It  will  shortly  appear. 

A  Treatise  on  Astronomy,  by  Sir  John  ITerschel,  will  form  the 
Forty-third  Volume  of  Dr.  Larduer's  Cabinet  Cyclopaedia,  and  will  be 
published  on  the  1st  of  June. 

Dictionary,  Practical,  Theoretical,  and  Historical,  of  Commerce 
and  Commercial  Navigation.  By  J.  R.  M*Culloch,  Esq.  1  large  Vol. 
8vo.  with  Maps.     A  Second  and  Improved  Edition  preparing. 

On  June  the  1st  will  be  published,  Longman,  Rees,  Orme,  Brown, 
Green^  and  Longman's  Catalogue  of  Second-Hand  Books  for  1833 : 
comprising  a  fine  Collection  of  Books  of  Prints,  including  many  of  the 
Gralleries ;  Divinity  and  Ecclesiastical  History,  Foreign  and  English ; 
Valuable  Works  in  various  Foreign  Languages,  and  a  useful  Collec- 
tion of  Works  on  Topography,  History,  Biography,  Poetry,  Voyages, 
and  Travels,  &c.  &c.  &c. 

Elements  of  Musical  Composition ;  comprehending  the  Rules  of 
Thorough  Bass,  and  the  Theory  of  Tuning.  By  William  Crotch, 
Mus.  Doc.     A  New  Edition,  preparing,  in  small  4to. 


] 


(    548     ) 
Art.  IX.     WORKS  RECENTLY  PUBLISHED. 


A8THOMOMT. 

Astronomical  Observations,  made  at  the 
Observatory  of  Cambridge,  for  the  year 
18S2.  By  George  Biddell  Airy,  Esq^ 
M.A.,  Plumian  Prof,  of  Astron.,  and  Ex- 
per.  Phil.,  in  the  University  of  Cambridge. 
Royal  Quarto.    15<. 

EDUCATION. 

Hints  for  the  Formation  and  Manage- 
ment of  Sunday  Schools.  By  the  Rev. 
J.  C.  Wigram,  M.A.,  Secretary  to  the 
National  School  Society.  2i. 

uisToar. 

The  Annual  Historian  for  1SSS;  com- 
prising the  Events  of  the  Previous  Year. 
By  Ingram  Cobbin,  A.M.  18mo.  S«.  cloth. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

The  Crusaders;  or,  Scenes,  Events, 
and  Characters,  from  the  Hmes  of  the 
Crusades.  By  Thomas  Keightly.  With 
Views,  &c.  6s.  6d.  Cloth  lettered. 

Insects  and  their  Habitations.  A  Book 
fur  Children.  With  many  Engravings.  Is, 

Persian  Fables,  for  Young  and  Old.  By 
the  Rev.  H.  G.  Keene,  M.A,  With 
Eighteen  Illustrative  Engravings.  Is. 

A  Residence  at  the  Court  of  London. 
By  the  Honourable  Rii-hard  Ru.sh,  Envoy 
Extraordinary  and  Minister  Plenipotentiary 
to  the  United  States  of  America,  from 
1817  to  1825.  8vo.  14j. 

Authentic  Letters  from  Upper  Canada : 
with  an  Account  of  Canadian  Field  Sports. 
By  T.  W.  Magrath,  Esq.  Edited  by  the 
Rev.  T.  Radcliff;  with  etchings  by  Samuel 
Lover,  Esq.,  R.H.A.  6s, 

POETRY. 

Readings  in  Poetry.  A  Selection  from 
the  be&t  English  Poets,  from  Spenser  to 
the  Present  Time:  and  Suecimens of seve- 
ral  American  Poets  of  deserved  reputation  : 
with  a  History  of  English  Poetry,  and  an 
Essay   on    Versification.     Cloth    lettered, 

POLITICAL. 

Whom  are" we  to  look  to?  or.  Things 
as  they  Are.  Some  brief  remarks  on  the 
present  state  of  Parties  in  this  country. 
"  Cui  Fidas  Videas."  1*. 

A  Letter  from  Legion  to  the  Right 
Hon.  £.  G.  Stanley,  upon  his  Scheme  for 


the  Abolition  of  Colonial  Slavery,  and  con- 
taining suggestions  of  a  plan  redly  '*  safe 
and  satislactory  *'  in  its  character,  h. 

A  Plan  for  the  Reconciliation  of  all 
Interests  in  the  Emancipation  of  West 
India  Slaves.  By  John  Hancock, M.D.  6i/. 

The  Book  of  Rights ;  or,  ConsiiiutioDal 
Acts  and  Parliamentary  Proceedings  a^ 
fecting  Civil  and  Religious  Liberty  in  Eng- 
land, from  Magna  Charta  to  the  present 
time.  Historically  arranged,  with  Notes 
and  Observations.  By  Edgar  Tiylor, 
F.S.A.  &s.  6d,  extra  cloth  b«>ards. 

The  Interests  of  the  Countr}',  and  tlie 
Prospects  of  West  Indian  Planters,  mutu- 
ally secured  by  the  Immediate  Abolition  of 
Slavery.  By  James  Cropper.  Second 
edition.  Is. 

Wages  or  the  Whip.  An  Essay  on  the 
Comparative  Cost  and  Productiveness  of 
Free  and  Slave  I.iabour.  By  Josiah 
Conder.  Author  of  the  Modem  Tra- 
veller/* &c.  &c.  8vo.  2s.  6i. 

A  Vindication  of  the  Loan  of 
£15,000,000  to  the  West  India  Planters, 
showing  that  it  may  not  only  be  lent  with 
perfect  safety,  but  with  immense  advantage 
both  to  the  West  Indians  and  to  the  people 
of  England.  By  James  Cropper.  8vo.  6(L 

Considerations  on  Civil  EstablishmenU 
of  Religion.  By  H.  Heugh,  D.D.  8vo. 
2s.  6</. 

A  Critique  on  Dr.  Ralph  Wardkw's 
Sermon,  **  Civil  Establishments  of  Chris- 
tianity ;"  showing  that  it  is  unfounded  in 
scripture,  contradicted  by  ecclesiastical 
history,  is  based  on  what  is  not  true,  and 
is  alike  repudiated  by  sound  criticism  and 
conclusive  argument.  By  Alexander 
Fleming,  AJVI.,  Minister  of  NeQston. 

THEOLOOr. 

Christianity  Epitomised,  with  Antithesis 
analytical  and  illustrative  of  the  Papacy. 
Contents  : — Israelitish  Christianity  — 
Christianity  typical  and  psalmodic — His- 
toric Christianity  to  the  close  of  the  first 
century — The  Atonement — The  Per- 
sonality and  Influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
— Historic  Christianity  to  the  close  of  the 
second  century — Pagan  Philosophy — Pro- 
gressive Christianity  to  the  Constantine 
era — The  Papacy  contrasted  with  Christi- 
anity— Socianism  repelled—Trinitarianism 
advocated— The  attributes  of  Faith — Justi- 
fication—Christian identity-ii-Sabbatlc  de- 
secration, &c  &c.  8s.  cloth  boards. 


GENERAL    INDEX. 


VOL.  IX.     THIRD  SERIES. 


AxBfticA  and  the  Americans,  by  a  Citizen 
of  the  World,  840 ;  treatment  of  the 
blaekt  in  America,  241 ;  sec  Garrison, 
Murat,  and  Stuart. 

AmericHn  colonization  society;  see  Garri- 
son** Thoughts  on  African  Colonization. 

Annual  tnography  and  obituary,  for  18SS, 
179. 

Anti-alaYery  reporter,  No.  104,  138;  see 
Garrison*8  Thoughts. 

Arnold's,  Dr.,  principles  of  church  re- 
form, 176;  extract^  176—79. 

Auldjo's  sketches  of  Vesuvius,  212;  de- 
scription of  Vesuvius,  213;  view  from 
AfiKgAeir  pom/,  216. 

Blair't  inquiiy  into  the  state  of  slavery 
amongst  the  Romans,  27S;  universal 
prevalence  in  former  times  of  slavery, 
974;  originated  in  war,  ib,;  ancierit 
dave-4radef  277;  extract  from  Mr.  Hal" 
iej^s  dnfulneu  of  colonial  slavery,  279 
— 81 ;  the  Roman  slavery  admitted  of 
gretter  mitigation  than  our  colonial  sys- 
tem, 28S ;  slavery  in  the  Grecian  states, 
ib,s  ChritlianUy  ameliorated  the  condi- 
tion of  the  dove,  285,  6 ;  it  shall  annul  it 
m  MOt  287. 

Brown's,  Dr.,  biblical  cabinet.  Vol*  II., 
119;  its  contents  most  useful,  ib,i  me- 
rit of  Calvin  as  a  Bible  interpreter,  ib.  ; 
German  Bible  critics,  121  ;  the  treatises 
contained  in  this  volume,  122,  12S. 

Buccaneer,  the,  40 ;  characters  in  the  tale, 
41 ;  extracts,  41,  42;  Cromwell's  daugh- 
ter, 45 ;  author  s  account  of  Cromwell, 
47 ;  Milton,  52. 

Canadas,  the,  as  they  now  arc ;  see  Statis- 
tical Sketches. 


Causes  of  the  French  revolution,  961 ; 
written  by  lord  John  Russell,  ib,;  what 
is  meant  by  the  causes  of  the  French 
revolution?  ib,;  its  causes, according  to 
the  Quarterly  Review,  862;  Louis  XVI. 
had  less  to  do  in  causing  the  overthrow 
of  the  monarchy  than  Marie  Antoinette, 
36S ;  the  French  philosoj)hers,  364 ;  the 
effect  of  their  writings  would  have  been 
inconsiderable  but  from  other  causes, 
365;  example  of  the  United  States  a 
cause  of  the  French  revolution,  366,  7; 
financial  disorders,  367 ;  the  real  causes 
of  the  revolution,  368 ;  extract  from  M, 
Aug.  le  Comte,  369 — 371 ;  our  revolu- 
tion in  the  times  of  Charles  I.,  371,  2 ; 
Oienevix  contrasts  the  French  Revolu- 
tion with  it,  373 — 5;  the  pretended 
fears  of  the  Quarterly  reiriewer,  375; 
the  French  revolution  could  not  have 
occurred  in  England,  377;  the  social 
state  in  England,  378—83. 

Chesncy's,  Captain,  reports  of  the  naviga- 
tion of  the  Euphrates,  263 ;  its  feasibi- 
lity, ib.;  extracts,  263 — 5. 

Church  reform,  Arnold  on,  176. 

Clarke's  concise  view  of  the  succession  of 
sacred  literature,  332 ;  a  valuable  guide 
to  the  student,  333 ;  the  fathers  no  long- 
er the  principal  sources  for  theological 
learning,  t^.;  the  Greek  writers  to  be 
preferreid,  i6. ;  a  character  of  Chrysos- 
torn,  334;  Socetius,  335;  AldJiclmus, 
337. 

Cobbin's,  Ingram,  moral  fables  and  para- 
bles, for  infant  minds,  94;  specimen, 
thefalUng  kite,  ib. 

Culton's,  Calvin,  manual  for  emigrants; 
sec  Statistical  Sketches  of  Upper  Cana- 
da. 

a 


INDEX. 


Conder*s  wages  or  the  whip,  5i4>. 

Cropper's  vindication  of  a  loan  of  fifteen 
millions  to  the  West  India  planters,  544. 

Curtis*s  existing  monopoly,  an  inadequate 
protection  of  the  authorized  version  of 
scripture;  see  Oxford  Bibles. 


Davenant's,  Bishop,  esropntion  of  Sl 
Paurs  raistle  to  the  Colossians,  trans- 
lated by  Josiah  Allport,  123;  DaTenant*s 
birth,  &c.,  124,  et  xq,;  anecdote  of 
Liudy  126;  Davenant's  works,  127; 
Bishop  Hackrt,  128;  tetter  to  Bukop 
Hallt  ISO ;  the  exposition  of  the  epistk 
to  the  Colossians,  ISO,  et  $eq,;  ettracts^ 
134 — 36 ;  defects  of  the  elder  commen- 
tators, 132;  Davenant  a  tublaptarian, 
136;  our  religion  too  often  turned  into 
materials  for  contention  and  strifet  1 37 ; 
excellence  of  this  translation  of  Da- 
venant's works,  137,  8. 

Davis*8  true  dignity  of  human  nature^  634; 
extracts,  534—36. 

Douglas's  address  on  slavery,  sabbath  pro- 
tection, and  church  reform,  351 ;  the 
West  Indies^  ib. ;  nutn  can  have  no  pro- 
l>erty  in  man,  852,  3 ;  who  is  profitted 
by  the  system  T  353 — 56 ;  nothing  now 
for  it,  but  immediate  abolition,  356 ;  o6- 
servance  of  the  sabbath,  a  religious  duty 
find  a  civil  privUege,  357. 

Elijah,  by  the  author  of  "  Balaam,"  260; 
object  of  the  work  excellent,  ib,;  ex- 
tracts, 261,  2. 

£iiot*s,  Archdeacon,  Christianity  and  slav- 
,ery,  383  ;  evidence  of  the  advocates  for 
alavei^*,  ib,;  iir&t  impressions  of  Euro- 
peans on  witnessing  slavery  wear  away, 
384;  ni^lected  state  of  the  slaves,  385; 
jealousy  of  making  them  Christians, 
;<8(i ;  belter  observance  of  the  sabbath  in 
Barbados,  387,  8  ;  marriage  among  the 
slaves,  389 ;  shameful  violation  of  it, 
390;  cruelty  often  perj>etrated,  391  ; 
Archdeacon  Eliot  on  manumission,  898, 
3  ;  advocates  bit  by  bit  emancipation, 
393;  slave-owner  entitled  to  no  com- 
pensation, 394 ;  '  souls  not  saleable,* 
395 ;  specious,  though  ingenious,  argu- 
ment drawn  from  St.  Paul,  896. 

England,  society  in,  378,  ct  seq. 

Essays  on  religious  subjects,  by  a  Lay- 
man,  225 ;  how  is  it,  tlif  author  is  a  lay- 
man? U}.;  three  reasons  wliy  competent 
laymen  should  publish  on  this  subject, 
2!^6  ;  has  the  churcli  been  well  served 
bv  laymen?  221 ;  list  of  lay  theologians, 
227—233. 

Knglishmau's  almanack,  the,  94. 

Entomological  magazine,  450. 


Euphrates,  navigation  o^  263. 

Fergussoii*s  practical  notes  made  during 

a  tour  in  Canada,  &c.;  see  Statistical 

Sketches  of  Upper  Canada. 
Fifty-one  original  fables,  with  morals,  &&, 

embeUished   by  R.    Cruicksfaaak,  91; 

specimens,  92 ;  avthor*t  otject,  ib. 
Flowers  of  fable,  culled  from  Bpktetui, 

&&,  91 ;  deserve  high  praise,  92;  many 

former    collections    olgectionable^  ik; 

poedcai  exhradf  93. 

Garrison's,  W.  Lloyd,  thoogfats  on  Afiricaa 
colpoizatioui  188;  the  American  coIod- 
ization  society,  189;  antl-CbristIans{int 
towards  the  coloured  Americans,  ib,; 
Qeneral  Jackson's  proclamation  to  the 
free  people  of  colour,  141 ;  their  bteffi- 
gence^  &c  ib,;  extracts,  141 — 145;  is  it 
Uwful  to  enslave  a  man  for  his  colour? 
146t  7;  the  ludicrous  antipathy  tbe 
coloured  racef  are  held  in,  K*?;  extracti 
on  the  side  of  ^oUnwoation^  ib.  et  seq,; 
Russia,  in  a  comparison  with  America, 
has  the  advantage,  149;  onr  Christian 
ministers  should  protest  again^  Ameri- 
can slavery,  150;  other  wroskgs  it^idei 
on  this  race,  15S^ — 6;  we  lo^  to  Eng- 
land with  hop%  158 ;  the  expediency  sf 
early  enumcipation,  159 — 61. 

GilW*s  neuKur  of  Fdix  Nefi^  pastor  of  tke 
High  Alps,  83;  orig^nated^  in  part,  by 
life  of  Oberlin,  ib.;  OberSn  was  N^s 
model,  ib,;  Abon^mfsef  tke  Hig^  Jlps, 
23,  24;  history  of  NcC  26;  be  quits  the 
army,  27;  his  zeal  in  the  ministry,  ib,; 
his  opinions  on  separation  from  the  nsr 
tional  church,  ib.;  arrives  in  London, 
28 ;  appointed  pastor  of  the  churches  of 
Val  Queyras  and  Val  Fressiniere^  29; 
parish  of  Arvieux,  ib, ;  Neff*s  habiMion, 
31 ;  San  Veran  and  Dormilleuse,  3S; 
Neif's  disinterestedness,  S3 ;  his  perse- 
verance and  patience,  34,  35 ;  his  stu- 
dents, 35 ;  knowledge  of  geography  an  aid 
to  the  cause  of  missiofis,  36 ;  Neff 's  ill- 
ness, 37;  his  last  letter,  ib,;  his  character, 
87—39 ;  his  method  with  the  Roman 
Catholics,  39. 

Gregory's  memoir  of  Robert  Hall,  189;  j 
anecdotes  of  Hall,  191;  his  popularity  at 
Bristol,  194;  danger  he  fell  into,  195; 
is  invited  to  Cambridge,  196 ;  imjiortant 
changes  in  his  feelings,  196,  7 ;  appears 
as  a  political  writer,  197  ;  character  (f 
Hall,  198,  ct  seq,;  his  celd>rity  did  not 
arise  from  his  position  at  Cambridge, 
203;  the  Quarterly  reviewer's  portrait  of 
him,  205;  leUer  of  Mackintosh,  207; 
his  afflicting  visitations  and   recovery, 


INDEX. 


208 — 16;  bis  residence  at  Leicester, 
810;  he  succeeds  Dr.  Ryland  at  Bris- 
toly  211  ;  his  death,  ib.;  Mr,  FoUer's 
portrait  of  Hall,  as  he  aftjvared  in  the 
pulpit,  4l&d;  his  manner  nfjmblicjyrayer, 
489;  preaching  prayers,  490,  1;  emch 
if  HfJts  semvms  had  a  distifict  assign- 
tMe  subject,  491,  2 ;  his  jrreaching  an- 
a^fsed  and  jtortroyed,  492 — 6  ;  imagin- 
ation with  him,  a  subordinate  faculty, 
496-8 ;  sermon  on  text  Prov,  xxv.  2,  pp. 
496—503;  Mr.  Hall  always  absorbed 
in  his  subject,  503,  4 ;  his  hearers  not 
always  equal  to  understanding  him,  505 ; 

the  British  Critic's  criticisms,  506 8. 

Greswell's  harmonia  evangelica,  1;  his  dis- 
sertaticn  upon  the  principles,  SiC,  of  a 
harmony  of  the  gospels,  ib.;  the  harmonia 
and  the  dissertations  compose  one  work, 
t&.  /  synopsis  of  the  contents  of  the  dis- 
sertations, 1 — 4;  inconsistencies  inpre- 
Yious  harmonies,  5 ;  harmonies  are  for 
the  learned,  7  ;  the  error  in  most  har- 
monies, 8;  remarks  on  St.  Matthew's 
^spel,  8,  9 ;  characteristic  differences  of 
the  gosfiels,  9,  el  seq. ;  remarks  on  their 
authors,  10;  Mr.  GreswdPs  conjecture 
respecting  Sl  Mark*s  gospel,  12;  er- 
ttmination  of  St,  Mattlicw  and  St,  Mark, 
13 — 15;  St.  John's  gospel  supplemental, 
16;  the  author's  hypothesis  accounts  for 
there  being  four  gospels,  and  only  four, 
17;  his  statement  examined,  18;  St. 
Mark  both  saw  and  consulted  St.  Mat- 
thew's gospel,  19 ;  St.  Luke's  acquaint- 
ance with  St.  Matthew's  gospel,  20;  his- 
torical character  of  St.  Luke's  gospel, 
SO;  danger  of  misinterpreting  an  inspired 
Irriter,  l^  transpositions  of  his  narrative, 
81 ;  tabular  view  of  the  distinctive  cha- 
racteristics of  the  four  gospels,  22 ;  a 
harmony  of  the  four  gospels,  in  English, 
arranged  on  the  plan  of  G  res  well's  har.- 
monia  evangelica,  299 ;  Mr.  Greswell's 
division  of  the  harmonized  evangelical 
narrative  is  purely  chronological,  300 ; 
Part  L  examined,  ib,;  remarks  on  the  ge- 
nealogies in  Luke  and  Matthew,  300, 1 ; 
their  apparent  discrepancy,  301 ;  Calvin's 
opinion  of  the  time  of  tlie  visit  of  the 
magi,  302  ;  Greswell's,  302,  3  ;  Dod- 
dridge's, 304,  note;  Part  IL  of  the  har- 
mony examined,  304 ;  Mr.  Greswell's 
order  of  the  temptations,  305 ;  Part  IIL, 
306  ;  author's  reasoning  on  John  v.  1, 
306,  et  seq. ;  Doddridge  and  Benson  on 
this  subject,  308 ;  Part  IV.,  313 ;  in- 
cludes the  greater  portion  of  the  gospel 
narrative,  tb. ;  Part  V.  contains  the  ac- 
counts of  the  resurrection  and  the  ascen- 


sion, ib, ;  the  author*s  labours  a  valuable 
assistance  to  Bible  students,  ib, 
Gurney's  biblical  notes  and  dissertations, 
161  ;  contents,  162  ;  the  canonical  au- 
thority of  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
163;  the  internal  evidence  of  its  Pauline 
origin,  164 ;  the  epistles  of  Peter  com- 
pa^  with  those  of  Paul,  165,  6;  para- 
phrases of  the  Old  Testament  inthe  Chal- 
dce  language,  167,  et  seq.t  extract,  168; 
the  introduction  to  John's  gospel  consi- 
dered, 172, 3;  the  conclusion  of  Mr.  G.'s 
work  is  practical,  174;  extract,  174,  6. 

Hallcy's  sinfulness  of  colonial  slavery,  346; 
should  be  abolished,  from  its  criminality, 
ib.;  extracts,  ^1—bO,  See  Douglas's 
address  on  slavery,  &c. 

Harmony,  a,  of  the  four  gospels,  299  ;  ar- 
ranged upon  the  model  of  Greswell's 
harmonia  evangelica,  ib.  See  Greswell's 
harmonia. 

Heath's  book  of  beauty,  88  ;  not  a  book  of 
beauties*  16.;  praise  due  to  the  artists, 
88  ;  and  to  Miss  Landon,  ib,;  extract, 
89. 

Hinton's  harmony  of  religious  truth  and 
human  reason  asserted,  in  a  series  of 
essays,  413;  to  many,  the  title  of  the 
book  will  be  an  objection,  415;  faith 
rightly  founded,  and  reason,  cannot  be 
opposed,  415—18  ;  the  doctrine  of  the 
divine  influence  misunderstood,  418 ; 
definition  of  reason,  418;  mischievous 
contrariety  in  the  writings  of  our  theo- 
logians, 419,  20 ;  accountability  of  man, 
421  ;  author's  error  in  his  essay  on  the 
*  revealed  character  of  God,'  423;  human 
attributes  applied  to  God,  424;  God's 
moral  gbvernment  of  man,  425—27; 
*the  eternity  of  future  punishment,'  428; 
•hereditary  depravity,'  429;  *did  Christ 
die  for  aU  men  ? '  430,  1 ;  *  of  unbelief,' 
4S2  ;  the  work  a  valuable  accession  to 
modern  theok>gical  writing,  438. 

Hints  on  the  necessity  of  a  change  of  prin- 
ciple in  our  l^slation,  for  the  efficient 
protection  of  society  from  crime,  468; 
author  would  convert  all  prisons  into 
asylums,  468 ;  divides  mankind  ifUo  three 
classes,  468 — 70  ;  dqrrecates  our  prison 
system,  471,  2.  See  Whately's  thoughts 
on  secondary  punishments. 

Ireland,  poor  laws  for,  325,  et  seq. 

Legion's  letter  to  the  right  hon.  E.  G. 
Stanley,  &Cn  ujwn  his  scheme  for  abo- 
lition of  colonial  slavery,  544;  it  is 
founded  upon  two  contradictory  propo- 


INDEX. 


bHiom,  646;  clffeeiimM  to  tke  plan  cf 
kbenUmg  tke  ekUdren,  ib,i  emame^xUim 
muti  be  total  and  immediatet  647. 

Leifcbild*8  abbreviated  diacounei  on  vari- 
ous fubjecta,  484 ;  not  compoacd  for  tbe 
preaa,  ih. ;  qriritual  and  natural frtedotn, 
486 ;  duty  of  Ckritliani,  m  rapect  to 
tUmety,  436, 7;  8L  PauCi  rapture,  488; 
aqied  eftht  lime*,  480—441 ;  tbo  spirit 
of  controversyi  441. 

Lewia'a  remailn  on  the  oae  and  abuse  of 
some  political  terms,  478 ;  necessity  for 
such  a  work,  t6.;  '  right  *  and  '  wrong,' 
476—77 ;  Biackstone*s  erroneous  d^ 
nition  of  rights  and  liberties,  477 — 80  ; 
*  sovereignty '  confounded  with  royally, 
480— 8« ;  « sovereignty  of  the  people,' 
482 ;  Rousseau's  notion,  484;  origin  of 
legislation  in  the  house  of  commons, 
486  ;  our  representatives  de^^tes  and 
legislators,  486 ;  value  of  Mr.  Lewis's 
work,  487. 

Mackintosh's,  right  hon.  Sir  James,  history 
of  Eugland,  97 ;  hb  early  life,  16. ;  Sir 
James,  and  Robert  Hall,  06;  Macin- 
tosh's Vmdiciia  GaUiae,  100 ;  called  to 
the  bar,  t6. ;  his  lectures,  t6. ;  goes  to 
India,  102;  introduced  into  narliament, 
•6.;  succeeds  Tiemey  as  chiel  of  the  op- 
position, 103;  kit  character  as  a  speaker^ 
104,  106;  his  ftiUng  heakh,  106  :  hit 
death,  106,  107;  his  history  of  England 
a  valuable  fragment,  107;  RobeH  Haltt 
cpmion  of  hit  gtuJ^ftcaAmt/vr  hittorical 
writing,  108;  Mr,  Campbeltt  critique  on 
the  Hittory,  109;  extractt,  110—112; 
his  other  writings,  112;  his  convers- 
ation, 114;  tj)ecimen,  116 — 18. 

Martin's,  R.  M.,  poor  laws  for  Ireland,  a 
measure  of  justice  to  England,  &c.,  826; 
Ireland  without  poor  laws,  and  England 
with,  {'6.;  Mr.  Martin  deserves  the 
thanks  of  his  country,  826 ;  poor  laws 
the  only  legislative  measure  wanted  for 
Ireland,  ib,i  Dr.  Doyle  on  the  tubject, 
827-880;  Mr.  MarUn's  plan,  830. 

Mirabeau*8  letters,  during  his  residence  in 
England,  66 ;  history  of  the  corresjwnd- 
ence,  ib,;  Mirabeau's  character,  t6. ;  ex- 
tract,^ 66 ;  his  was  the  quintessence  of 
the  French  character,  67;  Mirabeau  on 
the  ififluence  of  religion  in  England, 

68,  69 ;  the  melancholy  of  the  £nglith, 

69,  70  ;  further  extracts,  71—76 ;  Mi- 
rabeau's interest  for  the  Jews,  76 ;  his 
wisli  that  England  and  France  should  be 
friends,  77. 

Murat*8  moral  and  political  sketch  of  the 
United  Sutes  of  North  America,  836; 


ifm<Hhc 


advocates  sbvery,  ak  / 
riiilcrf£taCei,2S6— 40. 


Ne8;  Felix,  see  6111/8  noemoir  cL 
North  American  review.  No.  LXXVIIL 
article   <  Prmoe  Puddcr  Moscan  tad 
Mrs.  TroDopa^'  SSS ;  chanettr  of  Mn.^ 
Tndbpe's  work,  2SS»  4;  calrad  Jim 
At  iiifiifc  on  HMflSfBnifwii,  f  50, 9 

Oxford  BiUes.     Mr.  Curti^a  Bttsi«pi»- 
seotationa  azposed^  by  Rdwaid  Qi4- 
weU,  D.D.,  609;    tbe   BiUe  printiBg 
monopoly,  610;    perfect  accwacy  not 
to  be  expected,  611 ;  startling  assertioa 
by  Mr.  Curtis  of  tbc  intentional  de> 
partures  from  Kins  James's  BibK  &1S » 
the  confidence  ^  the  OUeraU  m  Ik 
Bible^  thotdd  mot  be  disturbed,  ib.:  f*- 
port  of  ditsenting  minister^  enb^eem- 
mittea  on  the  aiuAoriaed  version,  615; 
the  itaUcs  in  the  BtUe^  A.;  Mr.  Curtis's 
oljectbna,  617, 18 ;  Dr.  Tnrtom^s  tea- 
sonsjbr  the  italics,  &lSSt2i  bavethcy 
emosed  the  sacred  text  to  the  scoffi  of 
infidels?  6S3;  or  been  stumUing-bkxb 
to  the  unlearned?  624;   Mr.  Curtis's 
inaccurade^  686,  7 ;  his  commenfeuies 
on  the  colunm  title%  628 — 88 ;  on  the 
names  applied  to  God  in  the  BiUc^  682; 
excellence  of  our  EngKsh  Bibles,  688. 

Pecchio's,  count,  semi-aerious  obsenralioDs 
of  an  ItaBan  exiles  during  his  residence 
in  England,  78;  some  errors  in  the 
book,  S.;  extracts,  79,  et  aeq,;  the  Eng- 
lish Sunday,  88;  author's  praise  of  the 
English,  88,  et  seq,;  marries  an  English 
woman,  86;  *the  oj^tosition*  in  the  Howe 
(^Commons,  ib. 

Political  terms,  definitions  o^  473;  see 
Lewis. 

Punishment,  errors  in  the  theory  of,  463 
—7. 

Religion  of  taste,  the^  a  poem,  180 ;  the 
vital  spirit  of  Christianity  something 
more  than  a  *  religion  of  taste',  ib.;  ex- 
tract, 180,  1. 

Report  from  select  committee  on  king's 
printers*  patents,  609. 

Report  from  the  select  committee  on  se- 
condary puni^ments.  See  Dr.  Whate- 
ly's  thoughts  on  secondary  punish- 
ments. 

Revivals  in  religion,  287,  et  seq. 

Rush's  residence  at  the  court  of  London, 
637 ;  adapted  to  promote  a  good  feeling 
between  the  English  and  Americans,  ib.; 
increase  ^  London,  638 ;  riches  of  the 


INDEX. 


tradesmen,  539 ;  our  national  debt,  541 ; 
a  drawing-room  in  Queen  Charlotte** 
days,  ib.;  dinner  at  Jeremy  BenthanCs, 
642--44. 

8cbolefieId*s  hints  for  an  improved  trans- 
lation of  the  New  Testament,  314 ;  au- 
thor*s  respect  for  the  tramlators  of  our 
Bible,  ib, ;  translators  not  answerable  for 
many  of  the  errors,  315;  Tyndal,  and 
Coverdale,  ift.;  character  of  the '  hints*, 
816;  critical  dissertation,  317—325. 
Slavery,  ancient,  273,  et  seq,;  sinfulness 
of,  346,  351 ;  unproductive,  544 ;  see 
Blair,  Conder,  EUot,  Halley,  and  Le- 
gion. 
Smedley*s  history  of  the  reformed  religion 
in  France,  217;   commences  with  the 
first  appearance  of  the  reformed  doctrine 
in  France,  219;  a  theatrical  perform' 
once  in  the  time  of  Francis  /.,  219-21 ; 
martyrdom  of  Louis  Berquin,  221-23 ; 
massacre  on  the  eve  of  St  Bartholomew, 
preconcerted,  223. 
Sprague's,  Dr.,  lectures  on  revivals  of  re- 
ligion, 287;   extract  from  life  of  Mr, 
Brtten,  288;    value  of  Dr.  Sprague*s 
lectures,  290 ;  summary  of  former  re- 
mnaU,  291 ;  Mr,  James  on  the  scanty 
effects  in  England  from  our  vcut  means 
in  the  cause  of  religion,  294 ;  American 
preaching  iueflective  here,  295 ;  and  re- 
vivals in  religion,  distrusted,  ib.;  prayer, 
and  the  publication  of  the  word,  the  two 
*  measures  necessary  to  convert  the  world, 
897;    the  present  aspect  of   Britain, 
296. 
Statistical  sketches  of  Upper  Canada,  for 
the  use  of  emigrants,  338 ;  the  triumphs 
of  steam,  339 ;  the  company* s  Huron 
tract,  ib,;  who  should  go  to  Canada? 
340 ;  Mr,  Colton*s  admonition,  ib,;  jter^ 
sons  who  shotUd    emigrate,  341 — 43; 
reasons  for  prrferring  Canada  to  the 
United  States,  343,  44. 
Stickney*s  pictures  of  private  life,  442; 
works  of   fiction,   442 — 44;    extracts, 
445—50. 
Stuart's  three  years   in  North   America, 
233 ;  his  candour  and  intelligence,  242 ; 
freedom  from    sectarian  prejudice    in 
America,  243;  a  country  town  in  New 


England,  244,  6;  a  camp-meeting, 
245 — 48 ;  Lord  J^^ron  onfeld  preach- 
ing, 249 ;  treatmetU  rf  the  coloured  j)o- 
pulation,  249—254,  256;  legisUttion  in 
the  state  of  Georgia,  264 ;  inLouisiana, 
256,  6. 

Turton*s,  Dr.,  text  of  the  English  Bibles 
considered,  509 ;  reasons  for  the  UaUcs, 
518—522;  impossible  to  convert  He- 
brew or  Greek  into  EngKsh,  without  cir- 
cumlocution, 626.    See  Oxford  Bibles. 

Wages  or  the  whip^  an  essay  on  the  com- 
parative cost  and  productiveness  of  free 
and  slave  labour,  544 ;  proves  slavery  a 
political  blunder,  ib,;  no  plan  of  eman- 
cipation will  do  but  one  of  a  deaded  cha- 
racter, ib, 

Whately's  thoughts  on  secondary  punish- 
ments, 453;  anomalies  in  our  punish- 
ments, tb.;  transportation  least  efficient, 
454 ;  quite  a  lottery  to  the  convict,  455 ; 
a  mischievous  and  impolitic  ^stem,  456 ; 
the  *  vested  right '  the  Australian  co- 
lonists have  in  convicts,  457;  the  co- 
loTues  should  not  be  a  drain  for  the  im- 
purities of  the  mother  country,  458,  9 ; 
transportation,  a  good  expedient  for  du- 
posing  of  discharged  criminals,  461 ; 
unwiUingness  in  magistrates  to  accept  of 
bail,  462 ;  errors  in  Archbishop  Whate- 
ly*s  theory  of  punishment,  463 — 65; 
our  whole  system  of  punishments  de- 
mands revision,  467 ;  the  American  sys- 
tem of  penitentiaries,  467,  8. 

Whychcotte  of  St.  John's,  397 ;  author 
of  the  Tory  school,  396;  Pr^essor 
Smythe,  398—402 ;  *  the  cause  of  the 
church  *,  404 ;  a  sporting  parson,  405 ; 
Bishop  Randolph,  406 ;  pluralities,  406, 
7;  Duke  of  Reichstadt,  407-9;  Mrs, 
Arbuthnot,  409,  10;  the  late  Queen, 
411—13. 

Tear  of  liberation,  tlie,  a  journal  of  the 
defence  of  Hamburgh  against  the  French 
in  1813,  page  54;  a  melange,  i&. ;  riimg 
of  the  people  rf  Hamburgh,  65 ;  Heligo- 
land, ib,;  Hamburg,  57—60;  the  Ger- 
mans, 60—62;  Englishmen,  62;  the 
Russian  black  eagle,  a  poem,  63. 


G.  WoodfaU,  Printer,  Angel  Court,  Skinner  Street,  London. 


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