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her in pipings and trumpetings, in fornications and murders: long have they lived deliciously with her, and their wailings over her accelerating ruin have been hideously dreadful. But they are utterly unavailing. The mighty Angel has already cast the mill-stone into the midst of the sea; and his voice, awful and unerring in prophecy, is now heard more tremendous in providence, saying, "Thus shall that great city Babylon be thrown down, and shall be found no more at all."
We are informed that the illustrious Scipio, when he entered fallen Carthage, could not refrain from tears; a pensive silence seized upon him, which he at length broke with these lines from Homer:
The day will come when Troy shall sink in fire, And Priam's people with himself expire." Polybius, the historian, who was his companion on this occasion, asking what he meant by Troy and Priam's people, the conqueror, without naining Rome, gave the historian to understand, that in Troy and Carthage he foresaw the fate of his own "The greatest states," said he, "have their period; after which Fortune overturns what she took pleasure in raising."
Political events since the era of the Reformation have seriously affected the interests of Rome and its blasphemous domination; and the most melancholy forebodings of Scipio, and others, seem now rapidly accomplishing. In 1791 the population of the ETERNAL CITY had dwindled to 166,000: but in 1813 it had further declined to 100,000, of whom 10,000 were gardeners and shepherds. It is believed now to be reduced to about 80,000! So rapid a depopulation is almost without parallel. European revolutions have doubtless contributed to this surprising reduction, but the greater part is ascribed to the increased action of the malaria, which appears to be investing the city on every side. There are extensive districts in Rome which are nothing more than villages, inhabited by the peasantry, whom the pestilential atmosphere has compelled to abandon their habitations in the country. Every year too this invisible scourge is advancing. Every year it invades some fresh street, some new square or quarter; and every year its terrible influence is augmented. The hills and elevated grounds within the walls of the city, where this insalubrity in former times was never felt or suspected, are now affected by it in the summer. The Porto del Popolo, a part of the Corso, the entire quarters Quirinale, of La Trinita del Monte, and the Trastavere, are already deserted. The city indeed presents everywhere the appearance of ruin. As there are many more houses than inhabitants, the houses are never repaired; when they get out of order, the occupiers move to others. Neither doors, stairs, nor roofs are ever replaced they tumble to pieces and are allowed to remain where they fall. Multitudes of convents have thus acquired the appearance of ruins, and many palaces, no longer habitable, are left without even a porter to take care of them.
"Rome in the Nineteenth Century," a work of great celebrity, in a series of letters from that city, written in 1817 and 1818, supplies us with ample testimony to the fulfilment of Divine prophecy in relation to that metropolis of the world. The intelligent author says, "Between the Sabine Hills on the East, and the hills of Viterbo (Monte Ciminus) on the north, the bold ridge of Mount Soracte rose from the plain, insulated from every other height, the most striking, the most picturesque, and, excepting the Alban Mount, the most lofty and beautiful of all the amphitheatre of mountains that surround three sides of the plains of Latium. Far as the eye can reach, the Campagna stretches in every direction, to the base of these hills To the west, a wild sullen flat extends to the sea.
profusion of bushy thickets, and a few solitary trees were scattered over the broken surface of this uninclosed and houseless plain;-for a plain it is-since at the distance of sixteen miles, where we now stood, we distinctly saw Rome.
"Over this wild waste, no rural dwelling, nor scattered hamlets, nor fields, nor gardens, such as usually mark the approach to a populous city, were to be seen. All was ruin fallen monuments of Roman days -grey towers of Gothic times-abandoned habitations of modern years, alone meet the eye. No trace of man appeared, except in the lonely tomb, which told us he had been. Rome herself was all that we beheld. She stood alone in the wilderness as in the world, surrounded by a desert of her own creation. It may perhaps be soothing to the contemplation of the traveller, or the fancy of the poet, to see the once beautiful Campagna di Roma abandoned to the wild luxuriance of nature, and covered only with the defaced tombs of her tyrants, and the scarce visible remains of the villas of her senators; but it is melancholy to reason and humanity to behold an immense tract of fertile land in the immediate vicinity of one of the greatest cities in the world, pestilent with disease and death, and to know that like a devouring grave, it annually engulphs all of human kind that toil upon its surface. The unfortunate labourers employed in the scanty cultivation occasionally given to the soil to enable it to produce pasturage for cattle, generally full victims to the baneful climate. Amidst the fearful loneliness and stillness of this scene of desolation, as we advanced through the long dreary tract that divided us from Rome, a few wretched peasants, whose looks bespoke them victims of a slow consuming disease, occasionally reminded us of the tremendous ravage of human life, which this invisible and mysterious power is annually making. -Vol. i, 99, 100.
Nothing is more striking to a stranger than the sombre air which marks every countenance, from the lowest in Rome. The faces even of the young are rarely lighted up with smiles; a laugh is seldom heard, and a merry countenance strikes us with amazement, from its novelty. Rome looks like a city whose inhabitants have passed through the cave of Trophimus."—Vol. iii, p. 196.
It seems therefore probable, that the moment is not far distant, that is to strip this Queen of Cities of her splendour, and of all her glory to leave her nothing but her immortal name. That great city, which made all nations rich by the multitude of her merchants; which has commanded the estates, the bodies, and the souls of men; which has arrogated the title of ETERNAL, is apparently doomed to fall at length under the stroke of an invincible enemy: while the pernicious dogmas of her pontifical sovereign, with the blasphemous titles which he arrogantly assumes," the Lord shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of his coming." 2 Thess. ii, 8.
Some persons, even in England, talk of the "Throne of the Pope," as the most dreadful of powers! and profess to be alarmed at the strength of Popery, and the consequent danger of Protestantism! In the presence of the open Scriptures, Popery cannot flourish; and the irreversible sentence of Omnipotence is gone forth, that every opposing enemy shall perish, especially the "Man of Sin," with all his delusions: "for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD, as the waters cover the sea."
"Sin is but launching an arrow at the heart of God : it recoils, and returns into the transgressor's own heart, in which it will fester to all eternity."
"The worm that eats out the goodness of a mere moral man, is Self."
THE BIRMINGHAM APPRENTICE.
THE parents of William were not decidedly religious : yet they were not altogether unmindful of the best interests of their children. Still as they had been "regularly christened in the parish church," their Christianity was not in the least doubted. At school they learnt the church catechisin, and they were generally sent to church on a Sunday morning; and, unless they were taken out for a walk in the afternoon or evening, a chapter or more was usually read in the historical parts of Dr. Wright's folio "Family Bible." The notes, and especially the splendid plates, supplied them with both instruction and amusement.
Even this practice, more indeed than was to be seen of piety in the families of most of his neighbours, but lamentably deficient in every thing peculiarly religious, was not without profit to William: it brought his mind into contact with the word of God; and he never forgot the occasional and superficial reading of the Bible in those days. Besides which, at school, a chapter was appointed to be learnt by each scholar, during the holidays, to be repeated on his return; and this exercise was not without its fruit: for though William took no delight in the spiritual doctrines contained in the holy scriptures, but felt a rooted dislike to them, as requiring the heart to be surrendered to God, and a course of life corresponding, yet he well recollected throughout his subsequent life, the deep impression produced upon his mind by the learning of the parable of the prodigal son, the account of the rich man and Lazarus, and the first chapter of the epistle to the Hebrews. Especially the following affecting passage, relating to the rich voluptuary: "And besides all this, a great gulf is fixed between you and us, so that they who would pass from hence to you cannot, neither can they pass to us that would come from thence." Luke xvi, 26.
The awakening declaration of "a great gulf fixed" between the righteous and the wicked in the world of spirits, a great gulf impassable, could not be forgotten, but frequently revolved in his mind, as if inscribed upon the soul of William, then about nine years of age; and though he never mentioned it to any individual, it was never eradicated.
These impressions appear to have been somewhat nurtured by the habit of learning the collect for the day every Sunday, to repeat on the Monday morning at school. The short time that William was at the Methodist Sunday school, already mentioned, was not entirely lost, nor the exercises altogether forgotten and vain but they appear to have contributed to deepen the convictions already made, and to enlarge the mind towards good men, who might be found even among those who were Dissenters from the church of England.
When, in 1803, William was bound apprentice, his mother, anxiously alive to his welfare, furnished him with a Pocket Bible, a Prayer Book, a little mahogany box for writing apparatus, and a knife and fork. These constituted the whole of his fortune in setting out in life but the Bible formed a part of that fortune, and that was a treasure: the books were indeed few, but they consisted of the best, and God in tender mercy blessed them, as the means of enriching his soul.
Divine providence, in about a year afterwards, removed his parents to reside in his father's native village, about thirty miles distant, as we have already observed. Thus was William cut off from direct intercourse with his parents: but the painful dispensation was manifestly ordained in mercy to him, and made subservient to his greatest advantage. On a Sunday, while the other apprentices went home to their friends, William, sepa
rated from his master's family, the workshop being his sitting-room, was much alone, but in occupation which he found highly favourable to reading and reflection, and the means of proving the resources of his own mind.
The Bible was constantly perused by William: at first chiefly for the purpose of passing away the time : but its wondrous histories engaged his attention, and were soon felt to be attractive. They became familiar, and his mind by this means was enriched; if not with "the apostles' doctrine," yet with the edifying biography of God's ancient servants, and with his recorded dispensations of judgment and mercy to mankind, showing the difference, both in the character and the eternal destiny "of him that serveth God, aud him that serveth him not."
Early impressions upon the mind of William were thus deepened by the reading of the Bible; and a tone of seriousness pervaded his spirit, which governed his tongue and his general behaviour, and which procured for him the sincere respect and confidence of his master, and of all his fellow workmen.
He had learnt about forty songs to sing at his work; but he now began to dislike them, as neither edifying, nor agreeable to the principles and practices of those holy men of God mentioned in the sacred scriptures. He at once decided and left off singing them, endeavouring to obliterate them from his memory; and, as the apostle recommended "psalms and hymns and spiritual songs," William learnt several of those in the "New Version," particularly, parts of the fifty-first, the sixty-seventh, and the hundred and forty-sixth Psalm.
His words began to be used at this time with more care, that none might be contrary to the direction of our Saviour, "Let your communication be Yea, yea; Nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil." Matt. v, 37.
Having completed the fourteenth year of his age, William commenced, at Whitsuntide 1804, keeping an account of the principal incidents of his servitude; and which he continued during the six remaining years of his apprenticeship, noting down also all the little sums of pocket money given him by his master in the course of that time, with all his earnings at overwork.
His master being a superior workman, his business was remarkably good, so that he considered it necessary to work even on Sundays, sometimes, for the purpose of completing orders by the time appointed; and on many occasions William has worked the greater portion of the Lord's day, in the early part of his apprenticeship, at no small sacrifice of his peace, knowing it to be contrary to the righteous law of God. But this is believed to be not an uncommon practice in Birmingham, with those of fancy trades, when business is plentiful. How dreadful must be the guilt of those, who have ever read or heard the command of God, "Remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work: but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the LORD thy God; in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy maidservant." Exod. xx, 8-10.
William heard this law read every Sunday at church, and he felt that it is wrong thus to desecrate and profane that portion of our time, which our Maker has mercifully sanctified, claimed as his own, and allowed it to us, only for the purposes of his worship, and the business of our happiness and salvation! The benighted pagans will rise up in judgment against sabbathbreakers, to their most awful condemnation!
(To be continued.)
Letters to a Mother, upon Education.
The Desire of Pleasing.
THE subject of this Letter is nearly related to the general topic of the last. The desire of pleasing is of course to a certain extent the object of the attention we pay to manners. Against this desire, under the regulations I endeavoured to assign in my last, there can be no objection. Every person is bound to render himself as agreeable as he can to all around, consistently with the immutable laws of truth and integrity. My object now however is, to conteinplate the desire of pleasing when it becomes the sole motive in the formation of manners. You are aware
that the Letters of Chesterfield are devoted to this topic; and, if I mistake not, the object of pleasing society is inculcated in them to an extent inconsistent with the claims of conscience.
Having perhaps set the object I have in view before you, you will allow me to proceed to the following ob.
1. When carried to an excessive extent, it can rarely consist with genuine uprightness of the moral principle.
I am supposing the desire to please every body to operate, by universal smiles, by agreement with them in opinion upon all possible occasions, and by endeavouring to make every body as well pleased with himself as possible.
Accordingly a person actuated by this motive seeks to know what subject a man excels in, and sets him to talk upon it, not for the purpose of gaining information, but of giving him an opportunity of displaying his acquirements, well knowing that the complacency he feels in his own skill will be insensibly transferred to the person who gave him the opportunity of shining. I have often seen this course pursued; and although the adroit flatterer hardly spoke, but merely listened with the utmost attention, I have heard him praised as a man of the most agreeable conversation! It is a rule of this species of tactics, never to disturb the prejudices of mankind, never to argue, never to contend, except with a view to give the victory to the opponent. I cannot pretend, in a single Letter, to trace all the various modes in which this principle shows itself. The preceding may be sufficient to recal such characters to your recollection.
You will, I doubt not, agree with me, that such principles and such conduct argue, that the love of truth is at a very low ebb, and that the moral feelings must in general be greatly sophisticated. Truth of any kind is not the object of such persons, and truth they must often sacrifice. Accordingly, in proportion as these views and this disposition are cultivated, the moral principles become endangered. The usual result is, that such a man becomes a heartless, selfish sycophant, who, under the utmost versatility of manners, pursues a settled purpose of self-interest. If without any particular object in view, such a person usually exhibits soon or late an enfeebled intellect. He becomes a mere driveller in understanding. The mind within assumes the incertitude and the sycophancy of character of the external manners: so sure is perversion of all kinds to lead to its own punishment. But this state of the character cannot long consist without its being known to our fellow-creatures.
late," says Mrs. Barbauld, "whatever be our arts of concealment, we are taken for what we are." Every one speedily knows, that such a person is a "mere man of the world," who says an abundance of pretty things,
but " never means what he says." Every heart instinctively knows, that such a man never would become a firm friend, a refuge in distress of any kind, or even a sympathizing companion. Distrusted, and perhaps ridiculed, how unhappy is such a character; yet perhaps as years increase his delusions will only become augmented!
All that I have said, and all that I could say upon this part of these observations is comprised in a single sentence in one of Dr. Knox's essays (I quote from memory). "When you see a person perpetually smiling, and agreeing with you in every particular, Beware of counterfeits, for such are abroad."
2. Another evil resulting from this principle is, that soon or late the genuine character will operate, and produce an abundance of inconveniences.
A man may continue the system of pleusing for a long time, yet, except his mind is absolutely imbued with habits of versatility, that is, unless he is a finished deceiver, the native independence of our nature, the inherent love of self-will, the force of real character will ultimately break through every disguise, and a very different being appear to have been concealed throughout beneath the mask.
I hold it to be an axiom in this sort of matters, that soon or late a man will act according to his genuine character. Nor is it a little remarkable, that in such cases a man becomes disagreeable oppressive, domineering, and even cruel, in proportion to his former suppliancy and obligingness. Perhaps our genuine character may be somewhat like a bow, which rebounds with a violence proportioned to the restraint which it had sustained.
Certain it is that the most violent quarrels and sturdy animosities that ever the world beheld, on the great scale of national, or the minor scale of social intercourse, have been preceded by exuberant complaisance. As if the God of Nature had inserted self-correctives in the human constitution, such parties are the most strenuous in their abuse and hatred of one another. The lesson to be derived from the whole is, that in educating a child the utmost care should be exercised to secure right principles of every kind, and to induce him chiefly to be solicitous respecting them; that a person in whom these prevail is sure ultimately to please, and to give the most permanent and delightful satisfaction; and that attention to the manners, independent of the cultivation of the heart, is an instance of that disunion of principle and practice, which occasions corrupt principles and inconsistent practice.
I am, my dear Madam, yours, &c.
Ir being necessary for the organization and maintenance of society, that dependence and reliance should be both mutual and universal, that all mean and ungenerous suspicion should be banished from every breast, and that, influenced by Christian liberality, we should regard every one as the same honest character as ourselves, an opportunity is thereby unavoidably offered for the successful practice of craftiness and deceit upon the unsuspecting and inexperienced. It is the commission of such villany as this, which renders the life of man one continued state of agitation and anxiety, and prevents our attainment of that unruffled tranquillity which all nature unites in offering. "It must needs be that offences are, but woe unto that man by whom the offence cometh.”
ADDRESS OF JOSEPH JOHN GURNEY, ESQ.
TO THE MECHANICS OF MANCHESTER.
3. STILL more important, however, is it for the happiness of mankind, that our whole nature, both bodily and rational, should be subjected to the moral principle-or, in other words, should become obedient to the commands of the Deity. Certainly, then, the highest use, the first and best application of all literary and scientific pursuit, is to confirm our belief in the Creator and Supreme Ruler of the universe-to establish and enlarge our acquaintance with God.
It is a lamentable fact, that this noblest end of knowledge is far from being always followed. Many persons who are engaged in scientific inquiries, live in the daily forgetfulness of their Heavenly Father, and are sometimes found to doubt and even to deny his existence. This strange perversion of man's intellect, can be ultimately traced only to the corruption of his heart; but it appears to be occasioned partly by the absorbing nature of philosophical pursuits, which may easily so fill the unguarded mind as to leave no place for the Author of all knowledge and wisdom; and partly by the habit which too much prevails among philosophers, of resting in second causes. They trace the phenomena of nature to the laws through which nature is governed, and they accustom themselves to speak and write, and, finally, to think of these laws, as if they were sentient and intelligent beings.
The absurdity of this mode of thought, as it relates to the creation of God, must be evident to every considerate mind. I walk into one of your factories, and inquire of the owner, or rather of the intelligent head-man, what is it which regulates the moving scene, and keeps the machinery working at a uniform pace. "Oh! sir," says he, "it is that governor in yon corner of the room. You see those two balls which are always in rotation. When the rapidity of the steam engine is too great, they expand by the centrifugal force, and by partly closing a valve in the pipe of the boiler, diminish the quantity of the steam which acts on the engine. On the contrary, when the motion is too slow, the centrifugal force of the balls abates, the circle round which they move is lessened, the valve opens, and the power is again increased. Thus, sir, the whole machinery is kept moving at an even rate."
But who governs the governor? Who provided it with its balls? Who placed it in its right position? Possibly the ingenious individual with whom I am conversing.
Were I seriously to impute to this most useful yet inanimate machine, the actual government of the works, and even the settlement of the sales and purchases, you would not fail to call me a madman or a fool. precisely of the same degree of madness and folly is that philosopher guilty, who goes no further than his second cause, forgets his Creator, and ascribes the orderly arrangement of the universe, and all its glorious phenomena, to the LAWS OF ATTRACTION AND
Here I must recur to that first principle in science to which we have already alluded- a principle worked up in the constitution of our nature, and which we know to be true, though we cannot prove it, that every effect must have an adequate cause. When I contemplate the heavens and all their starry host; when I take into view, as a complete system, the planets, the moons which attend their course, and the sun around which they move; when I behold, in myriads of fixed stars, the centres of as many more systems of the same description; when I extend my conceptions to a countless number of these systems, moving round some common
centre of unspeakable magnitude -I am compelled to acknowledge that here is a stupendous effect, for which only one cause can by any possibility account-I mean the FIAT of an Intelligent and Omnipotent Being.
Constrained as we are by the very structure of our ninds, to rely on the uniformity of the operations of nature, and taught by long and multiplied experience, that every organized form of matter has a beginning, we cannot, as it appears to me, avoid the conclusion, that the vast machinery of the heavens once began to exist; and, being convinced of this truth, we are absolutely certain that nothing could cause its existence, but the power of an eternal God. Thus do reason and philosophy persuade and constrain our consent to a record of the highest moment, contained only in Scripture-"IN THE Beginning GOD CREATED THE HEAVEN AND THE EARTII."
But let us take some particular part of the created universe-some single plant-some individual animal. For example, let us occupy a few minutes in considering the structure of my friend and brother there, who is sitting in front of me, and whose existence, as we all know, can be traced to a beginning. Let us examine him body and mind. First, as to his body -it is full of contrivances full of the evident results of the most profound science, and of the nicest How perfectly, for example, is the structure of his eye fitted for the reception of those rays of light, which are falling upon it in all directions from visible objects! How nicely are the rays refracted by its several lenses! How easily do they glide through the pupil! How comprehensive, yet how perfect, is the picture formed on its retina- -a picture reversed to inspection from without, but all in upright order to the percipient within! Here, indeed, is the science of optics displayed in its perfection. Then turn to his ear. How finely does it illustrate the principles of acoustics! How nicely are its cavities fitted for the reception and increase of sound! How accurately does the drum in the centre, respond to the undulation from without!
Look at that most convenient of levers-my brother's arm; with what ease does he apply its forces! How nicely are its elbow and its shoulder adjusted for their respective purposes; and how admirably is the whole completed by the addition of a hand! Think of the union of strength and pliancy which distinguishes his spine-an effect produced by machinery of the most elaborate description! Contemplate his joints- the hinge where a hinge is wanted-the ball and socket where his comfort demands that peculiar structure; all lubricated by ever-flowing oil; all working with a faultless accuracy! Think of his muscles, endued with that curious faculty of contraction, by which he is enabled to move his members! Think of the studied mechanical adjustment by which, without ever interrupting each other's functions, these muscles pull against each other, and keep his body even! Then turn your attention to his blood; a fluid in perpetual motion supplied with pure air in one stage of its journey, and, in another, with the essence of his food; and conveying the elements of life, every few moments, to every part of his body; driven from the heart by one set of vessels, and restored to it by another; those vessels most artificially supplied with valves to prevent the backward motion of the fluid; while the pump in the centre is for ever at work, and makes a hundred thousand strokes in a day, without ever growing weary! I will not now dwell particularly on the still more complicated structure of his nerves, on the chemistry of his stomach, on the packing of the whole machinery, on the cellular substance which fills up its cavities, on the skin which covers it, on the sightliness and manly beauty which
adorns the fabric. I will rather turn to the mind, which does, indeed, complete the man-its subtle powers of thought, memory, association, imagination-its passions and affections-its natural and moral capacities. Surely we must all acknowledge that our brother is a wonderful creature indeed-an effect for which it is utterly impossible to imagine any adequate cause, but the contriving intelligence and irresistible power of an all-wise Creator.
You tell me that our friend has a father-a grandfather that he looks back on an indefinite series of progenitors. This fact only strengthens my case. Certain it is that his own structure, both of mind and body, contains numerous and unquestionable proofs of design. Where there is design, there must of necessity be a designer. The parent, as we are all perfectly aware, is not that designer. Our understanding can find no rest in the mere medium of production. We are compelled to have recourse to an unseen and superior power, and to confess that the designer is God. But if the workmanship displayed in the formation of the individual proclaims the wisdom and power of God, still more conspicuously are they manifested in a succession of generations in the wondrous capacity bestowed on every kind of living creature to produce its own likeness.
Were it possible that a series of successive finite beings should exist from eternity (a notion which, in my opinion, disproves itself), and supposing it to be possible, were it probable, or even certain, that mankind have so existed--our argument from a design to a designer, would still remain untouched. It would continue to apply with resistless force to every individual of the species.
But it so happens that we are able to trace not only every individual man, but our whole race to an undoubted beginning. That beginning, which took place about six thousand years ago, is plainly recorded in Scripture, and the record is supported by the conclusions of science. You are doubtless aware how extensively of late years scientific inquiry has been directed to the examination and classification of the surface or crust of our globe.
(To be continued.)
THE LAST DAY.
Jehovah comes, in solemn state
Archangels shout, and trumpets sound
Behold the guilty nations quake
The bridegroom comes!" they all resound.
See! sinful man recoil with fear,
Astounded now vain mortals see
The trumpet sounds in loudest strain;
The dead stand forth, both small and great;
Ye mountains, hide us from the light!
Vessels of mercy-show your plea, Convicted stand before your God; "Jesus, our plea rests all in Thee,
Redeem'd and ransoin'd with thy blood."
Come, O ye blessed”—“enter rest," "The kingdom promis'd of your God," To dwell as angels-ever blest,
To praise the Saviour, praise the Lord!
THE MOSAICAL AND MINERAL GEOLOGIES, Illustrated and Compared by W. M. Higgins, F. G. S. &c. London, Scoble, Chancery Lane. 8vo. pp. 168.
"The undevout Astronomer is mad," says a wise writer; and must we not form the same opinion of an undevout Geologist? Professors of natural science there have been, and those of great name, who have pursued their investigations and studies with an undevout mind: but surely it must be impiety to search into the works of nature, neglecting the glorious, self-existent, almighty Creator and Preserver of universal nature! And this impiety is an insult to reason-it is madness!
Mr. Higgins justly observes, "It is a matter of importance to those who are convinced of the authenticity of the Bible, that its philosophy should be properly understood, investigated in its details, and compared with nature and should the examination conducted by them be at first unsatisfactory, and the harmony of God's word and works unapparent, the combination of irresistible arguments, which had convinced them of the truth of revelation, will lead them to conclude that there are imperfections in their knowledge, or errors in their deductions.
"The man who has been unconvinced of the divine character of the Bible by the arguments which are so powerful to Christians, will compare Geology and the Mosaical history of the Creation with different feelings. Should he be unable to reconcile the statements of the two, he will not hesitate to prefer his own deductions to the clearest assertions of the scriptures, and perhaps adduce it as a fresh argument against its authenticity.
It would be well for such a mind to remember, that Geology is as yet only in its cradle, and its nurses have scarcely recognized the features of its countenance. Many of those facts which are now received as principles, may hereafter be found exceptions, and thus overturn all those deductions which are built upon them: and as so many theories, proposed by men of acknowledged genius, have been disproved by the accumulation of knowledge, so it is possible that those upon which he is placing so much reliance, may hereafter share the fate of their predecessors." p. 2, 3.
We regard this work of Mr. Higgins as entitled to the favour of the Christian public; as it contains a large portion of most valuable matter, which illustrates and confirms the Mosaic account of the Creation. It will form a valuable companion to a very interesting new work on a kindred subject, by Sharon Turner, F.S. A. and R. A. S. L., entitled, "the Sacred History of the World, Part the First, from the Creation to the Deluge, attempted to be philosophically considered."
Mr. Higgins will bear with us in suggesting, that in the event of a second edition of his work (which we hope will be soon demanded), a smaller size and a cheaper form would be desirable.
London; Printed and Published by C. WOOD AND SON, Poppin's Court, Fleet Street; to whom all Communications for the Editor (post paid) should be addressed; · and sold by all Booksellers and Newsmen in the United Kingdom.
Hawkers and Dealers Supplied on Wholesale Terms, in London, by STRILL., Paternoster Row; BERGER, Holywell Street, Strand; F. BAISLER, 124, Oxford Street; and W. N. BAKER, 16, City Road, Finsbury.
Birmingham, by Butterworth.
Brighton, Saunders and Son.
Chippenham, Alexander. Chipping Norton, Smith. Edinburgh, Laing and Forbes. Gloucester, Lea.
Liverpool, Willmer and Smith. Manchester, Ellerby.
Newbury, Vardy. Norwich, Bowles. Nottingham, Wright. Oxford, Wheeler. Portsca, Horsey, Jun. Reading, Rusher. Romsey, Hants, Gray. Uxbridge, Lake. Warwick, Merridew Worcester, Lees.
And in Paris, by G. G. BENNIS, No. 55, Rue Neuve St. Augustin.
Of whom may be had any of the previous Parts or Numbers.