LITERARY CHITCHAT AND VARIETIES, We understand that Mr William Chambers, author of "The Book of Scotland," &c., is at present preparing for the press a new work, which may be expected to be of an interesting nature, entitled "Traditionary Legends and Popular Antiquities of Scotland." The Double Trial, or the Consequences of an Irish Clearing; a Tale of the Present Day, by the Rev. C. Lucas. A Numismatic Manual, or Guide to the Study of Ancient and Modern Coins, with Plates from the Originals, by John Y. Aker. man. Mr J. G. S. Lucas has designed and engraved a Companion Print to his " Samson carrying off the Gates of Gaza." "A Six Weeks' Tour in Switzerland and France," by the Rev. William Liddiard, author of "The Legend of Einsidlin," &c. "Advice to a Young Christian, on the importance of aiming at an elevated Standard of Piety," by a Village Pastor. The author of "Natural History of Enthusiasm," has a new work in the press, entitled "Saturday Evening," "An Essay on the Rights of Hindoos over Ancestral Property, according to the Law of Bengal," by Rajah Ram-mohun Roy; and also, by the same author, " Remarks on East India Affairs; with a Dissertation on the Ancient Boundaries of India, its Civil and Religious Divisions, and Suggestions for the future Government of the Country. A new monthly periodical, to be called the Lady's Cabinet of Fashion, Music, and Romance, is announced. Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, with many engravings on wood by G. W. Bonner, and Explanatory Notes by W. Mason. "Who can they be? or a Description of a Singular Race of Aborigines inhabiting the Summits of the Neilgherry Hills, or Blue Mountains of Coimbatoor," by Captain H. Harkness. A fifth edition of the "Endless Amusement." If it go on at this rate, it will indeed be endless. A newspaper, entitled the "Freemantle Gazette, and Western Australian Journal," is now regularly published at the Swan River Settlement. The first number bears date, March 1831. Captain T. Brown, the indefatigable historian of "Horses and the allied Species," has commenced a series of engravings of "Game Birds." The work is to extend to ten numbers, with four plates in each number. They include the winged objects of the sportsman's research in the four quarters of the globe. A volume of letterpress will accompany the work, containing historical researches into the field-sports of all nations. Such a work has long been a desideratum, and Captain B.'s work promises to supply it in splendid style. Dr Chalmers will be proud to learn that a learned bibliopole, not a hundred miles from Edinburgh, is in the habit of "taking notes" of his sermons. Perhaps he may finish the stanza and "print them." We have the gentleman's own word for the fact -and in print, too. MACREADY'S LAST.-Some one prosing to Macready about the decline of the stage, he said, "the public must be nearly blind to patronize spectacles as they do." WILKIE'S PORTRAIT OF GEORGE IV.-The general effect of this picture is perfect, and the colouring exquisite. The light and shade is managed with a simplicity which rejects all paltry cleverness, and shows the painter's power in managing this most difficult essential of the art. The expression is princely, although enfeebled by the meanness of the legs and prettiness of the feet. The background is most appropriate-quiet and rich. On the whole, the picture is worth a thousand of Chantrey's big statue, although it scarcely cost a twelfth of the price of that metallic mass. UNIVERSITY AT DURHAM.-A Durham college has been commenced, and is to open in October next, under the auspices of the Bishop and Chapter. There is a foundation for students; and also provision for the reception of ordinary and occasional stu dents. Four years will complete the education of a member, and there will be prizes and examinations. This institution promises to be highly beneficial, particularly to the northern parts of Eng land. IMPROVED READING.-Sinclair is not remarkable for his memory. A short enough sentence, which he was called upon to enunciate in one of his characters, ran originally thus:-" I am a single man, and consequently have no tie to bind me to this country." He got on favourably as far as the word man, but there he "stuck dead." Again he commenced, but still could not weather the point. At last, in despair, he resolved to make a tail-piece of his own, and out bolted-" I am a single man, and consequently -[a long pause]-a-bachelor," CHITCHAT FROM GLASGOW.-De Begnis and his company have been here at a most unpropitious season-for both their throats and purses. Every one here is busy with balancing, or eating and drinking, so Mr Alexander has not met with the reward his enterprise merited. As to their merits, which are considerable, you will soon have an opportunity of judging. Some New Music is announced for publication here, whilst in that department you seem asleep. The Theatrical Gossip.-Wars, and rumours of wars. The proprie. tors of Drury Lane and Covent Garden Theatres have served a notice on the managers of the minors, that if they continue to act without the license mentioned in the 10th of Geo. II., cap. 28, they will proceed against them for the penalty of £50 for each offence. A meeting of the performers at the minors has been announced; and a petition to his Majesty, and a memorial to the Lord Chancellor, are preparing. It is said that two thousand persons are at present engaged in the metropolitan minors. First our overgrown patent theatres ruined the drama, next they ruined themselves, and now they seek to ruin every one of the trade they can lay their unhallowed clutches on. first crime does not come, we fear, within the danger of the law; the second is the privilege of every fool; the third must be prevented. The great Kembles arose in defiance of monopoly -the little Kembles seek to prop themselves up by it. Thus, the stage vindicates its title, to be esteemed a "mirror of nature." Rudolph of Hapsburg helps himself to a crown, and his silly de scendants prate about legitimacy.-Mrs Gore's comedy has been endured at Drury Lane. The story is that of a rich unele reclaim. ing a nephew, by pretending to reduce him to beggary, and thus affording his friends an opportunity of showing themselves in their true colours. Mrs Humby, in speaking the epilogue, displayed high talent in the hoyden line-one that has too long been vacant. At the Olympic, the most pleasing novelty is "The Dumb Belle." Vestris, in order to cure a lover's horror of woman's tongue, pretends to be deaf and dumb, and acts quite in character, till an unlucky aspersion of her legs breaks the charm.-Rayner's Theatre will open on the 9th of January, unless it be burked previously by the great Patentees. Rayner is supported by Henry, who some years ago made a tolerable appearance at the Adelphi, after the fashion of Matthews.-The theatrical world is all agog in Liverpool. Ducrow, at his Amphitheatre; Paganini at the Theatre-Royal; a clever company, under an enterprising manager, at the Liver Street Theatre; Beverley at the Olympic; and Holloway at the Sans Pareil. own pantomime is excellent-the best infinitely that we have seen for many years. All our young friends must go to see their favourite Sinbad groaning under the Old Man of the Sea. Our Richard the Third, John Jones, & Dominique the Deserter. WITH next Number-the first of the New Year-we present our Portrait of Professor WILSON. Accidental circumstances have prevented the completion of the Index to the Volume now con cluded, which will be circulated, along with the Title-Page, in an early Number. After two weeks intermission of Reviews, our critical stomach is fearfully sharp-so authors may tremble. Some important improvements on our arrangements will be announced in our next. We commence the New Year like a giant refreshed. A remonstrance has been made at head-quarters on the part of the Bohemian Brothers. From the judgment passed upon their musical powers, there is no appeal,-on that point the sentence of our critic is definitive. His article involved, however, some questions in which we are accustomed to claim a voice. They deny that they are Whitechapel Jews-we believe, from their language, that they are in this matter correct-they are Bohemian. Further, we admit that their airs are native Bohemian. We deny that their dresses are. We are not apt to listen to remonstrances against our critical decisions-conscious that we speak always honestly, and gene. rally with due deliberation. Those, however, who wish to appeal against our judgments, must have recourse to written pleadings. Personal interviews on such occasions are always constrained and unsatisfactory to both parties. All persons presuming to call on such business, after this notice, may depend upon the Editor's being denied. He knows them merely as authors and artists, and begs to decline the honour of personal acquaintance. Correspondents in our next. LORD DOVER, (not having perused the Court Calendar and Peerage so assiduously as Miss Landon, we know nothing of the nobleman beyond his name,) knowing literally nothing of politics, strategics, and jurisprudence, has undertaken, with the most amiable diffidence, to write the history of a philosophical king, one of the greatest generals that ever existed, and at the same time a bold and shrewd, if not always an enlightened, legislator. Lord Dover is, however, excellently qualified for his task; he has read all the "Memoires pour servir," &c., which relate to his hero; and his is one of those philosophic minds which takes for its standard of belief the apophthegm-" I believe because the thing is incredible." His English style is, it is true, none of the best or clearest but then his French quotations are so delightfully commonplace and inapposite. We do not mean to deny that his lordship's work possesses a certain degree of interest. It is the only thing approaching to a complete life of Frederick that we have in English; and such persons as have not access to, or are unable to consult the original sources, will find in it a mass of anecdotes respecting this extraordinary man and his contemporaries—some true, and some false, but almost all amusing. A few letters of Marshal Keith are published by Lord Dover for the first time. Frederick was deserving of a better fate than has fallen to his share-at least in English literature. He has been employed by shallow, half-learned moralists, and puny wits, like "a regimental target set up for ball practice." And finally" the unkindest cut of all"-his defence has fallen into the hands of Lord Dover. Germany, howhas done him justice. We speak not of the controversies respecting his character carried on by her thousand-and-one brained and brainless writers, but of that deep-rooted and pervading feeling, which has gained for him, from the Alps to the Baltic, the grand though homely title-FRITZ DER EINZIGE. ever, He was indeed a great man, in the strictest acceptation of the term—a strange phenomenon among that herd of little jolterheaded, selfwilled, insignificant sovereigns, who (and whose fathers) have built their houses amid the ruins of the German empire. In order to appreciate fully the greatness of Frederick, we must know something of his peculiar situation. The foundations of the German empire were laid upon the same plan as those of the other feudal monarchies of Europe, but its territory was too extensive, its nobles were necessarily too powerful and remote from the centre of authority, to be held together by such feeble bonds. Other causes of disorganization supervened the speedy extinction of the lineal descendants of its founder, and the substitution of an elective emperor-the acquisition of the Italian crown, and the dreams of re-establishing the Roman empire-lastly, religious discords. The autho Price 6d. rity of the Emperor dwindled to a shadow, and the higher nobility gradually arrogated sovereign rights within their own territories, while, at the same time, the attempts, on the part of the House of Austria, to render the Imperial dignity hereditary in its lineage, still further excited their jealousy of the head of the state. All attempts, on the part of an emperor to give an efficient police, and good courts of justice to the empire, were consequently frustrated; and Germany, viewed as one state, was a realm of anarchy, where the will of the most powerful was law. Each petty lord attempted, in self-defence, to organize something like a government upon his own estate, and this alone kept the country from falling back into utter barbarism. The evil had reached its height at the time when Frederick the Second ascended the throne. The German empire existed but in name—it was a name, however, which perplexed and misled men. Amid this chaos, the Prussian dynasty was Protestant in self-defence. Its founder had, without any sanction but his own will, and an encouraging dictum of Dr Luther, erected the domains appertaining to the German Order into a secular princedom. One of his descendants had gone further, and arrogated to himself the kingly title for those of his lands that lay beyond the limits of the empire. Frederick's father felt the tenure upon which he held this power and dignity, and had converted his territories into a great garrison. These territories, however, although manned by a brave and well-disciplined soldiery, were difficult of defence, for they lay so scattered, as to consist entirely of frontier. If, therefore, his successor wished to maintain his kingly state-and where is the man who would voluntarily descend from it?-there was open to himo nly one line of policy. He must round out his frontier line by new acquisitions-regulate his expenditure by the strictest economy-encourage the developement of his kingdom's productive powers-and, as far as was consistent with this last object, convert his people into a nation of soldiers. All this was achieved by Frederick the Secondand more. He left refinement and knowledge where he found ignorance and brutality; he left a consolidated and uniform system of law, where he found confusion and arbitrary government. The mind that could accomplish this is worthy of study-in its greatness, that we may have before our eyes an image of a patriot king;" in its peculiarities, that we may know how compatible human littleness of conduct is with the most godlike of conceptions, and thus learn tolerance for human folly. Frederick's intellect was French. His governess when an infant was a Frenchwoman; his tutor, till his fourteenth year, was a Frenchman. From the latter he derived his knowledge of, and fondness for study; and, when deprived of him, the Germans he found at his father's court were not such as to lead him to expect information or pleasure in their intercourse. To gratify his love of literary pursuits, he was driven among the French literati. Surrounded by them, his mind imbibed the colouring of their thoughts, although it retained its native energy, and straight-forward good sense. His character was formed in a hard school-under a discipline beneficial in some respects, but the harshness was at once pleasing and striking. His literary efforts, of which necessarily stifled some of the best feelings of if not remarkable for originality, are distinguished by our nature. Frederick William, his father, was a man sound sense, good taste, appreciation of what is great and of vulgar mind and violent temper. He was just when good, and sparkling wit. He who with only the narrow not blinded by passion-he was religious after a fashion resources of Prussia, encountered, single-handed, the uniof his own he was a shrewd man of business, and ted might of France, Austria, Russia, Sweden, and great managed his revenue well—he had sagacity enough to part of Germany, and beat them too, needs no further perceive that Prussia was only tolerated in the empire, probation of his military genius. It must be rememberand skill enough to organize an efficient army. Beyond ed, too, that the generals opposed to him were men of this his merits did not extend. He was not so much a no ordinary talent. As a sovereign, let the condition of king as the proprietor of immense estates, unprotected Prussia speak his praise; he gave her institutions a conby law, and obliged to be alert in his own defence. He solidation, and her spirit an impulse that has worked had no taste for literature or art, for any thing that mightily, even under the weak blockheads who have sucraises man above this working-day world. He was ad- ceeded to him. And all this he achieved alone-without dicted to the gross pleasures of the table and the bottle, the companionship of a mind that could comprehend or to a degree that ruined his constitution, and impaired appreciate him. Keith loved the man, Voltaire envied his understanding. Ignorant, brutal, and self-willed, his the wit, Daun confessed the general, every statesman of temper was constantly exasperated by the silly intrigues the time felt awe in his presence, but where did there and opposition of his wife. He despised his son for the exist any one capable of doing justice to all his varied weakness of his constitution, but more for his sedulous powers? He was in reality, what Louis XIV. affected cultivation of music and literature, and his addiction to to be, THE STATE; but he was more, he was the ONLY the elegant pleasures of society. He fancied him a weak-MAN who left the impress of his mind upon his age. ling, in whose hands the power of Prussia would melt He treated him at first with harshness and conaway. tumely; afterwards, when irritated by his attempts to escape, and by the petty chicanery of his mother, with the grossest barbarity. Tyrannized over by his father, betrayed frequently by those in whom he reposed confidence, it is no wonder that Frederick, at the same time he learnt to endure, had his feelings blunted as well to the sufferings of others as his own. So justice ;-he acquiesced in the partition of Poland. So be it. All these faults cannot countervail the truth, that, starting in a less auspicious era, placed in a less advanta geous situation for seeing the truth, confined within a narrower sphere of action, he has displayed less selfishness and folly, has achieved more, and more lasting, benefits for society, than the only man who, in power or genius, has in our day any claim to be placed in his rank. That this chrysolite was not without its flaws, we have no wish to assert. He possessed affections, but, marred and blighted in youth, they warmed only at uncertain intervals. He was not naturally irreverent, but circumstances had closed his mind and heart against the perception of divine truth. Intent upon one great object, he had neglected to weed his mind of little jealousies, and an ignoble vindictiveness, which came at times like a thick scurf over the pure metal of his virtue, On one There remains yet a third external influence which occasion-on one only (for his family had claims upon contributed mightily to the formation of Frederick's cha-Silisia) he deflected from the principles of immutable racter. However he might be circumstanced, nothing could deprive him of the feeling that he was born heir to a throne that he must one day be king, in a state where the king was all in all. The circumstances of his youth had engendered cynicism in his temper. Looking from his princely height, he saw meaner men wanting his power, and the observance that waited upon him. Looking round upon the mob of sovereigns by whom he was surrounded, he saw them immeasurably his inferiors in native genius and cultivation of intellect. situated, the delusive idea that he was THE ONLY MAN of his age, easily entered into, and occupied his imagination. His enlarged understanding and refined tastes converted this dangerous delusion into a motive of lofty and generous endeavours-he would rule, as far as his finite nature allowed, his subjects with the power and beneficence of a god. There was delusion in the very thought -one man may educate, but he cannot form the mind of another. Freedom is the first requisite to the attainment of knowledge and virtue. Still Frederick's error was the error of a noble nature. It coalesced with the necessity under which he lay of extending his territories, and defending them with the strong hand. Together they formed the source of his ambition, the great end and aim-never lost sight of-of all his actions. Schooled in adversity, he knew to subdue a headlong temper, lest it should interfere with his ulterior purposes. We know not of a finer or more instructive contrast in the whole range of human experience, than the power with which Frederick curbed-annihilated his passions, when he had some great object in view, and the incapability he showed of controlling the slightest burst of pettishness, or bearing with the most paltry contradiction in the private intercourse of society. Keeping in view the character of this prince, and the auspices under which it was developed, we have a clue to his conduct through life. The early expansion of his intellect made him thirst for distinction, and seek for it in every direction-in literature, on the battle-field, in the cabinet, in conversation. His native genius, his habits of endurance, his early initiation into routine duties, enabled him to achieve it in all. His conversation Pp. Miscellaneous Discourses. By the late Rev. George Craw- IN reading these Discourses, we seem carried back to a better age of pulpit eloquence-to the age of South, Barrow, and their great, pious, and unaffected compeers. They are as unlike the polished, superficial, moral harangues of our moderate clergy on the one hand-or the strained, flashing, convulsive efforts of the more serious party on the other-as can well be imagined: They are always nervous, and often rise to the sublime. Their style is pure in its beauty-even to severity. They are marked by no affectation of logical accuracy of expression or arrangement, but a close consecutive train of reasoning runs through them all. Without being either imaginative or fanciful, they evince a quick sense of the finer emotions of our nature, and in particular they show a mind alive to that beauty of intellect, which so few are capable even of perceiving. Above all, they are pervaded by a calm, lofty, rational spirit of Christianity-by a faith which no external foes can shake, nor internal convulsions disquiet-by a charity which judges all men in truth and candour-by a purity which shrinks back from all unclean thoughts. This is high praise, yet we do not think that any one perusing the little volume to which it is assigned, will assert that it is overcharged. It is our desire, however, in some measure to force conviction even upon those who will not take that trouble, and we therefore submit to our readers a few corroborative extracts. Our first is a picture of faith, which may perhaps be little calculated to arrest the attention of the giddy, who 66 care not for these things," or to please the vitiated palates of those who confound religious rapture with intellectual drunkenness, but we know it will secure the approbation of those higher minds, who have built their pervading faith upon right reason and just feeling. "It is a singular fact in the constitution of the human mind, that an admitted truth does not always operate with the usual effect of solid belief and persuasion in the common affairs of life. There is not perhaps in the whole compass of human knowledge a truth which all men admit as more incontestible, than that there is a God, the avenger of wickedness, and the rewarder of them that diligently seek him.' The perception of this truth, in some shape or other, is indeed part of the prerogative of human nature; and the unnatural and dubious silence of a few remote deserts in the moral creation of God, can never be received as a contradiction of the fact. Now, indubitable as this truth is, it is equally so that mankind have never been found to act agreeably to a demonstrative persuasion of it. The infidel, while he scoffs at the inconsistent and unproductive professions of the Christian, does not seem to be aware that he is himself chargeable with a similar inconsistency. Every act of wickedness, and every sinful indulgence of thought on the part even of the Deist, may, upon his own principles, be charged upon him as an act of infidelity against the light of the clearest moral evidence to which mankind ever have assented. There is not a day of our lives throughout which we act up to the undoubted impression of even the first grand truth of natural religion. And the reason is obvious. No man hath seen God at any time.' The evidence of his agency and power he has left to be collected by that pious exercise of the human understanding, which sees both in the wonderful works of God.' It is, no doubt, a wise and merciful provision of the Deity, to shadow forth thus darkly, as it were, and by reflection, the exceeding glory and terrible majesty of his attributes. But while we are left thus silently and slowly to reach a knowledge, which, if more directly conveyed, might overpower or paralyze us, it is certain, at the same time, that we do not uniformly or habitually avail ourselves of this benignant accommodation to human weakness. Although no one by searching can find out the Almighty unto perfection,' it is only by searching' that we can acquire the imperfect understanding which we have; nor can this be kept alive but by continual meditation, and acknowledgment of the hand of God in all that is great, and wise, and beneficent in nature. It is true, that none but the fool can say in his heart that there is no God;' but it is true also, that even the wise may occasionally forget that they stand in his presence,' and may cease to remember that his judgments are upon the earth.' "It is not contended, I presume, now that the primal ⚫ signs and wonders' of Christianity have ceased, that its evidences are of a more overpowering and irresistible nature than those which demonstrate the existence and attributes of the Supreme Being. Nay, farther, it will probably be allowed, that the light with which God has invested the first great truth, without which mankind would be incapable of all religion, is even, if possible, of a more striking and obtrusive character than that which he has seen meet permanently to bestow upon any of his subsequent communications with the human race. It would seem, indeed, from the whole conduct of Divine Providence, and the economical display of preternatural agency which attended the original promulgation of the gospel, as if God were unwilling, save with a gentle and sparing hand, to break in upon the order and tranquillity of nature. The awful truths, and the sublime destinies of the human being, which, under the visible sanction of a present Deity, might overpower the intellect, or destroy the active energies of mankind, have been wisely left to the investigation, and gradual inferences, and gen. tle remonstrances of human reason. It does not by any means follow that an evidence is defective, which is not at the same time irresistible and demonstrative. But this much is certain, that there is nothing to compel examination or extort belief, even in that wonderful complication of testimony which reaches from the commencement of created time, and on which happily rest the truth and authority of the Christian hope. The testimony cannot be perceived by him whose 'eyes are holden that he will not see;' nor, until it is perceived, can it possibly produce that solid and rational persuasion, without which it is vain to expect either a suitable disposition of heart, or a corresponding practice. The blind and fugitive convictions of the thoughtless and the ignorant, can never operate with more than the mere probabilities of an uncertain habit. They must ever form but a slender evidence of the things unseen,' and but a shadowy substance of the things hoped for.' "But it is said, that a perception of the general proofs and sanctions of revelation is not essential to the acquisition of Christian faith; because, where even seemingly blind, and resting upon mere authority, it is in reality not so, but accompanied with an evidence and power peculiar to itself. The meanest and most ignorant Christian, it is contended, who has neither the ability nor inclination to inform himself, may certainly perceive, and be reasonably and entirely persuaded, of the Divine origin of the gospel, even from that complete and surprising process, by which he feels that his moral necessities are supplied ;—that his nature is transformed, purified, and exalted ;—his fears assuaged;-his sorrows soothed, and his desires awakened to the ambition of immortal hope. In answer to this mode of speaking-so fashionable with some-it is not necessary, my brethren, that we should undervalue the consolations, or detract from the joy of believing.'-But surely that faith, if it be not fallacious, must be vague and barren in the extreme, which relies upon a mere sentiment, and a sentiment, moreover, which may be held in common with the votaries of the vilest superstition, by which the image of God has ever been defaced or degraded. They, too, have their ecstatic reveries and enraptured emotions, and their fabric, alas! of baseless hopes and visionary consolations! The fervour, truly, of their mistaken sensibilities, and the heat of their misguided devotions,-did we rest the credit of our faith on so injudicious a foundation,-might well challenge competition with the sedate, rational, and more subdued transports of the Christian. Religion is, no doubt, a thing to be felt, as well as to be perceived; but it is the excellence and glory of the gospel, that it reaches the heart of man through the medium of his understanding; that the believer' holds fast that which is good' only because he has tried all things, and proved all things,' and because he knows that it is, 'above all things,' his first and most indispensable obligation to be thoroughly persuaded in his own mind.'" This passage, and that which we are just about to quote, are both characterised by a tone of calm reflective meditation, and a keen insight into human nature. "Of all guilty habits, the licentious are, perhaps, the most easily and most rapidly attained,—and, when acquired, are, beyond doubt, the most inveterate and engrossing. They are also found to be the most inconsiderate and regardless in their operation. There is an intoxication and excitement in the gratifications of impurity, which is not manifested in any other description of vicious indulgence. The wretched intermissions of debauchery goad the sensualist to his sins, with a power which is at once intolerable, and beyond the hope of resistance. It is also a consequence and reaction of this excitement, to generate a complete prostration and stupefaction of all the faculties of the soul. The understanding is paralysed, and denuded of all healthful energies. The very perception of moral and religious evidence would seem to be destroyed, and hence probably the reason that infidelity has been almost uniformly remarked as the common attribute of licentiousness. To all this we may add, as the most distinguishing character of impurity, its tendency utterly to vitiate and to harden the sensibilities of the heart, and to obliterate all susceptibility of virtuous emotion. This is matter of universal experience,-a truth which has never been more strikingly or happily portrayed, than by the renowned peasant and illustrious poet of our own land. Even the unjust may be generous, (according to the proverb,) but amid all their profusion and affected liberality, the debauched are uniformly unfeeling and essentially selfish. Personal gratification, by any means, and at any hazard, is the ruling motive and principle of their lives. In whatever manner we may attempt to explain the process, by which the general corruption of moral sentiment succeeds indulgence in impurity, the fact is altogether undeniable. The history of the world, as well as the experience and confessions of the criminal, exhibits innumerable examples of the pervading malignity, the secret, subtle, and incalculable virulence of sensual sin. That grace and purity of manner, which springs from an unsullied heart, is not merely the infallible test of the worth and excellence of individual character, but the unerring index by which we may judge of whole nations, whether they shall flourish or decay. Have not vast empires, of which even the memory is stupendous, sickened and died away under the taint and contagion of a debasing luxury? The extremes of licentiousness have ever been found not merely the reproach,' but the certain destruction of any people.' So wise, you perceive, so truly wise, are the superior checks and denunciations which Christianity has imposed on this besetting degradation of the species; and so true is the observation, that in the importance which the gospel attaches to the government and discipline of the heart, our Saviour knew mankind better than the wisest of the ancients." 6 powerfully to affect and modify the parallel. No modern missionary can appeal for the truth of what he advances to a recent fact of which he has been an eyewitness, or which can be cleared and ascertained by a reference to contemporaneous, or at least slightly traditional autho rity. What delegate of any of the pious and patriotic societies of our countrymen, can say that he has leant upon the breast of the Son of Man at his last supper;' or thrust his hand into the side' of the reanimated Jesus; or seen him as one born out of due season;' or heard him as a voice from heaven; or, in fine, can appeal to any living authority for these things? The lapse of ages throws an ideal obscurity over the sure record of history; not to mention the general incapacity and disinclination of those to whom Christianity is now first presented, for the drudgery of estimating the uncor ruptedness of a testimony transmitted through a series of eighteen centuries. The internal reasonableness and divine purity of the gospel are no doubt still the same, but it is only with minds of certain cultivation that these can ever carry their proper weight or conviction: Nor does it appear that they did so, even with those by whom Christianity was originally embraced. Neither can superior knowledge or sagacity be admitted as a counterpoise to the disadvantage of not being possessed of a direct appeal to a fact of fresh and recent occurrence. To substantiate a matter of fact, of which one was an eyewitness, or which has been learned from the testimony of an eyewitness, superior intellect is not always necessary nor required. "Although, however, under proper restrictions, there cannot be conceived a more just or forcible method of illustration than the one now noticed, it is yet, fortunately, unnecessary, in the present case, to point to any conceived parallel, in order to confirm, by way of illus tration, the positive inadequacy of the apostolic preaching to the effect with which it was directly and immediately connected, because the supposition of its adequacy violates every known principle, according to which conviction operates on the human understanding. We add but one more extract, and it is of a higher That a few simple, illiterate, and humble individuals, strain than either of the preceding. “A singular and striking mode of illustrating the miraculous sanction, which must be supposed to have prompted and given efficiency to the apostolic preaching, has been prosecuted by a distinguished ornament and defender of the faith. At the same time, were it not almost unbecoming to question such authority, I should confess that his reasoning appears to hold, only with a certain reservation, which has either not been stated or not apprehended by that luminous and admirable writer. "In order to judge,' says he, of the argument, which is drawn from the early propagation of Christianity, I know of no fairer way of proceeding than to compare what we have seen of the subject with the success of Christian Missions in modern ages.'-' Notwithstanding the labour of Missionaries for upwards of two hundred years, and the establishments of different Christian nations who support them, there are not twelve thousand Indian Christians, and these almost entirely outcasts.'* "Now, granting that the difficulties which the first preachers of Christianity had to contend with, were of an equally formidable nature with those which obstruct the labours of the modern missionary, allowing that both the primitive and modern missionaries were on a level in respect of piety and zeal, (a point certainly questionable,) and allowing that in point of education and learning, the latter had the advantage, not only absolutely, but relatively,—that is, in comparison with those among whom they exercise their office,-still there is a circumstance unadverted to, which would seem very Paley's Evidences, Part II., ch. ix., sect. 11. granting they were filled with all the zeal of which our common nature is susceptible, should so widely and rapidly establish, not merely the profession of a new system of abstract and speculative opinions; but, what is more important, the practice and observation of novel precepts,—the authority of the whole resting on a series of miracles, supported by their own bare and naked attestation,-is a fact not to be explained on any known law of moral sequences. Mere preaching has never produced such a revolution as this a revolution at once so vast and so enduring. They who contend otherwise, do not at all reflect upon the greatness of the change which is implied. It is not, you perceive, the mere passing from one sect of the same religion to another. It is not the partial sacrifice of opinion, or the reception of new tenets, which may be held in common with the old. It is an entire disruption of the whole man, extending to vast multitudes of human beings;—an acquiescence in the doctrines and requisitions of a new, upstart, bold, and uncompromising religion, which will divide dominion with none other, admits of no competition, and must be all in all.' Of a change like this, it is difficult for us now to form an estimate. indeed well justify the expression of a New Birth,' which is applied to it in the gospel,-and is widely dif ferent from any thing we can experience, when awakened only to a juster sense of the rewards and coming judg ments of a faith in which we have been born. Even the eloquence of inspired genius could not accomplish such a change, when, for wise purposes, the influence of more powerful sanctions was withheld. It awakened only a momentary panic in the breast of Felix. It did not entirely persuade Agrippa. By the Jews of Rome, of Antioch, and Corinth, it was heard till midnight, and It may |