703 That learning, luxury, refinement, gold, Will sweep all piety from England's fold, And write a Tekel on the church of God, A moral, desolating Ichabod. On Reading. "Tis false; why write the Church-in-England's doom, That truth may in yon western forests bloom? Ask we the reason why in western skies, Free is religion as the mountain roe, And truth and freedom have one common throne. ON READING. NO. VIII. (Continued from col. 632) Controversy is thus defined by Dr. Johnson: Dispute; debate; agitation of contrary opinions-a dispute is commonly oral, but a controversy in writing.' He has two quotations which illustrate his definition: viz. "Without controversy, great is the mystery of godliness," from 1st Timothy; and from Denham, "Wild controversy then, which long had slept, Into the press from ruined cloisters leapt." These three things, therefore, are included in controversy-dispute, debate, and agitation; and two things flow out of it, viz. the clearing up of mysteries on the one hand, and wildness and fury on the other. A more apt illustration of this subject, I conceive, could not have been well imagined. But St. Paul certainly meant to convey the idea of assurance to Timothy-"Without doubt, or it is beyond dispute, that the mys 704 tery of godliness is great," must be one at least of his doctrines; and the clearing up of mysteries more frequently flows out of a series of reasoning than from the issue of a controversy. Controversy is a field on which few men can tilt against opponents with equanimity ; more or less of morose expression, from angry feeling, is too frequently generated by the collision of two powerful champions, as fire is gendered by the strokes of flint on steel; and then, instead of cool and scientific fencing, each falls to, hacking and hewing like the fabulous giants of antiquity. Amidst this uproar, serenity vanishes, but without serenity what is any man; whether a champion in the field or in the closetthe coucher of a lance, the wielder of a sword, or of a grey-goose quill? If a man loses the command of his temper, he loses himself, for what is any man while a prey to fury? Without serenity of mind, who can hold fast truth? And who that lets truth go, can dress up a perfect image, so like to the original, that the one cannot be known from the other? Amidst all the caterers for public taste, the dishes brought out by controversalists are seasoned the highest, they are seldom either palatable or nutritious to heaven-bound pilgrims. These wayfaring men rarely partake of this repast, and, when they do, it is sparingly; for this hash is generally prepared up to a fiery heat, which, while it burns the palate, is deleterious to the whole man. It is too true, that men denominated pious have indulged both in catering for others and devouring for themselves, on this table of fire; and wild controversy has frequently crowned their heads with snakes, and armed their hands with torches, to hiss at and to burn up even the lambs of their own flocks : but these are circumstances to be mourned, rather than to be imitated by the true Christian. That the press teems with controversy even to the present hour, and that thousands of pages are reprinted which had far better have slumbered in oblivion, than thus "from ink-balls wildly leapt," is too true; but men who have a business to pursue will follow it, whether good or evil to the great family of mankind flows out of their exertions; by their trades they live, and by them they will live, if half the world thereby perish around them. Dispute, debate, and agitation! sorry food for devotional feeling; and who could suppose that any man, or any number of men, would turn away from the feast of fat things provided in the gospel, for this farrago? Acrimony, vindictive expression, and impatience of contradiction, mark multitudes of controversialists; and with these the manner is more reprehensible than the matter of their themes. With other coarse epithets, they call their opponents "fools;" thus leaving the matter of their controversy, and falling upon the man with whom they wage war. To call an opponent "fool,' is never wise, because, in all public controversies, the readers being judges, ought to pronounce the sentence, and they will do this, whether you do or not. If you call a man fool, while the public pronounces him wise, then your folly is apparent to all; and if the public accord with your views, they will say, why do you seriously occupy yourself in argument against a man whom you pronounce to be a fool? Suppose you conquer this fool, of what value is the faded laurel with which your brow is crowned? You have overcome a fool in argument! But suppose for a moment the worst, viz. the public decide that he has overcome you; what a stigma rests upon you-This man was overcome by a fool-a fool of his own naming; out of his own mouth he stands condemned to nothingness. Common prudence dictates to men, that it is more noble to subdue the mighty, or to fall beneath their prowess, than to overcome or fall before the vulgar; if a man, therefore, is destitute of that courtesy which would lead him to treat all men with respect and kindness, common prudence would suggest, "Honour the hero with whom you combat, then will more glory be won, or less at least be lost, whenever the judges award the prize." Review the volumes of controversy beneath which many extensive ranges of thickset shelves both bend and groan. What do these contain? Mementos of the snarling hyena? of the growling tiger? of the roaring lion? of the mountain tempest? of the ocean storm? Alas, strifes more fell than these, more fatal in their catastrophes, more awful in their end, occupy the bulk of these ponderous annals of the combats of the dead. These are the accumulated mass of acrimony-the expression of vindictive feeling, generated in an immortal spirit against an immortal spirit, and the retort of that immortal spirit to its fellow; both haughtily arrogating to themselves infallibility, and each hurling each headlong to perdition. Alas, for these! Perhaps the idea never entered into their thoughts, that both might be wrong. Both wrong! Impossible! There are only two sides of any question; and if both sides are taken, one of them must be right. Is this true? It approaches the truth, that there are only 140.-VOL. XII, 706 two sides of a thin sheet of paper, because the edges thereof assimilate to a line, which by common courtesy is said to possess no breadth; but whatever is viewed as a solid, possesses more sides than two. A triangular beam has three sides, a square one four, an octagon eight, and so on of other solids. If a matter argued upon is solid, it has therefore more sides than two-it may have many; and we frequently see two doughty champions slashing and hacking each other with might and main, without touching the solid matter of the argument at all. All their fury is surface flashextension from sheet to sheet-a mere paper war. Both of them may be, and often are, actually wrong; and while, with assumed complacency, each crowns his own brows with laurels, the judges, with contemptuous smiles, brushing away the offensive dust which these boisterous champions had raised around them, may pronounce the sentence which consigns them and their works to utter oblivion. son. What can a man expect from reading such works as these? Expect! To be made a complete disputant, to be sure-a captain Bobadil, ready to cry out on all occasions, Shew me my man, and I will fight him! That this spirit of religious chivalry does enter and possess the man, while it is deeply to be lamented, is too evident from day to day; and woe to him whose pursuits in life associate him with, or expose him to, the attacks of such a perWe frequently meet with men of this stamp-men who lay the foundation of a dispute almost the moment they enter into conversation; they make up matter for an argument out of every subject on which you enter, and take either side with equal facility; nor can you turn, however dexterous you may be at the management of a conversation, to any point of the compass, but there they are, armed at all points, ready to thrust or parry with acrimonious zeal.-What havoc such a disposition makes with devotional feeling! Where, alas, is that meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price? It lies a bleeding sacrifice on the shrine of ambi, tion, instead of ornamenting the brow of a pious youth, who, become a bravade, casting fire-brands, arrows, and death, cries, Am not I in sport? It is true, mild controversy may be, and sometimes is, of use; because the acumen of research, which arises out of a zealous contention for the truth, may, and occasionally does, elicit truth-draw her forth from behind the veil, and exhibit her to public view; on these occasion, this viri 2 Y shines forth in all her loveliness, and happy | is the man who has the genial spirit thus to exhibit her dignity. It must be in the spirit of truth, and in the spirit of truth alone, that he essays this arduous enterprise, else he will infallibly fail: for this virgin is so modest and reserved, that she shrinks back, and refuses to trust herself for a moment with any being who bears the least mark of the bravado upon his countenance. Pious seeming will not do here, for no mask can be fitted to a countenance so exactly as to deceive truth. There is a beam of light in the eye of truth, which, amidst all its loveliness, pierces to the very soul of the man who is observed, and fails not to descry the very form and fashion of his heart, while it is altogether different from his head; for the heart frequently has nothing to do with a controversy; it is often the head, and the head alone, that meddles in these matters; and it much more generally depends upon dexterous hits than solid arguments, for victory. A spirit of contention is opposed to a spirit of conciliation; a spirit of strife to a spirit of love; and the fervour of controversy to that spirit which burns for the salvation of a world dead in trespasses and sin. We often argue men into wrath, but seldom into penitence; we frequently provoke them to resentment, but rarely melt them into love; and a spirit of aggressive pedantry is more largely diffused thereby, than that yearning of the bowels towards the children of disobedience, which mourns over their corruptions, and pours balm into the wounds which sin has made. Of controversy, a taste is enough; to feast thereon is to surfeit the constitution and vitiate the functions of vitality; for a life hid with Christ in God cannot endure the atmosphere of controversy. If we would be useful, we must learn to bear and forbear each other in love; to receive him that is weak in the faith, not to doubtful disputations, not to judgment for non-essential variations from our creed, but to holy communion; for every one of us must give an account of himself unto God. Let us, therefore, follow after the things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify another. I recollect, many years ago, on looking upon a huge mass of controversial pamphlets, which, having accumulated from time to time, had progressively outgrown the string around them to such a degree, that this cord at length, by successive knots, was of three several kinds. It contained a label, whereon was written in large characters, "Hell!" The great abyss might be shadowed out by this mass of confused matter in the labeller's mind; and the im 708 pious spirits which are congregated therein, might be portrayed in miniature by the furies which animated the mass, and sent forth a kindred feeling to their readers: and who can say there was nothing appropriate in the thought? Deeply impressed with the idea, the circumstance is new to me, even to this day. Many a pious youth has lost the simplicity of his first love to God, and made partial, yea, total shipwreck of faith and of a good conscience, by inadvertently engaging in controversy; first with a good intentionthat of winning souls to the truth; but secondly, from pride; victory after victory having elevated his mind beyond the lowly standard of the gospel, and led him forward to pre-eminence in his new connexions; whereas, in his former state, his humility confined him to a narrow sphere of action. He gained glory, the glory of man, but he lost the approbation of God. The question of our Lord is most important here: “What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? For the Son of man shall come in the glory of His Father, with His Angels, and then shall He reward every man according to his works." Matt. xvi. 26. But here is a man who, far from gaining the whole world, gains only the empty applause of a few individuals; yet for this he barters his soul: for becoming vain thereby, and inflated with pride, he forgets "the rock whence he was hewn, and the hole of the pit whence he was digged," neglects humble and ardent prayer, is borne away by the flood of corruption, until he even becomes "blind, and cannot see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was purged from his old sins." What an awful preparation is this eternity! O then, while we "contend earnestly for the faith which was once delivered to the saints," let us avoid contentions, because "they are unprofitable and_vain,” let us remember, "The servant of the Lord must not strive, but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient; in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth; and that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken captive by him at his will." (To be continued.) HINTS TO YOUNG TRADESMEN. A YOUNG man, of good character, sets up in business with a moderate capital, and a good deal of credit; and soon after marries 709 Hints to Young Tradesmen.--Sir H. Davy's Lecture. a young woman, with whom he gets a little ready money, and good expectations on the death of a father, mother, uncle, or aunt. In two or three years he finds that his business increases, but his own health or his wife's makes it necessary for him to take lodgings in the country. Lodgings are soon found to be inconvenient, and for a very small additional expense he might have a snug little cottage of his own. A cottage is taken, repaired, new-modelled, and furnished. Here he spends his Sundays, and frequently takes a friend or two with him just to eat a bit of bread and cheese, and to see how comfortably he is situated in the country. Visitors of this description are not wanting. One is invited because he is a customer, another because he may assist him in his business, a third because he is a relative of himself or his wife, a fourth because he is an old acquaintance, and a fifth because he is very entertaining; besides many who call accidentally, and are prevailed on to stay to dinner. He now keeps his horse for the sake of exercise, but as this is a solitary kind of pleasure, which his wife cannot share, and as the expense of a gig can be but trifling where a horse is already kept, a gig is purchased, in which he takes out his wife or his child as often as his business will permit. After all, driving a gig is but indifferent amusement; his wife too is timorous, and ever since she heard of Mrs. Threadneedle's accident by the stumbling of her horse, she is resolved to endanger her life no more; besides, the expense of a horse and gig, with what is occasionally spent in coach-hire, falls so little short of what his friend Mr. Harness asks for a chaise, that it would be ridiculous not to accept of an offer that never may be made him again. The chaise is agreed for, and it is soon found that the country cottage is too small for so large a family. There is a charming house, with a garden, and two or three acres of land, rather farther from town, but delightfully situated, the unexpired lease of which might be had a great bargain. The premises, to be sure, are somewhat more extensive than he should want, but the house is nearly new, and for a moderate expense might be put into most excellent repair. By his wife's desire, and his own inclination, hither he removes, hires a gardener, being fond of botany, and supplies his own table with every thing in season, for little more than double the money the same description of articles would cost if he went to market for them. Every thing about him now seems comfortable; but his friend Harness does not 710 treat him so well as he expected. His horses are often ill-matched, and the coachman sometimes even peremptorily refuses to drive them a few miles quicker than usual, "because he's answerable to master for the poor beasts." It is true his expenses are as much as he can afford, but having coach-house and stables of his own, with two or three acres of excellent grass, he might certainly keep his own coach and horses for less money than he pays to Harness. A rich relation of his wife too is dying, and has often promised to leave her something handsome. The chaise is discharged, he keeps his own carriage, the boy that used to clean the knives waits at table, and looks after the horse, becomes a smart footman with a handsome livery, and his wife is now able to pay and receive many more visits than she could before. Yet he finds by experience that an airing in a carriage is but a bad substitute for a ride on horseback, as far as regards exercise; he must therefore have a saddle-horse, and subscribes to a neighbouring hunt for his own pleasure, and to the nearest assemblies, for the sake of his wife. During all this progress, his business has not been neglected, but his capital, originally small, has never been augmented. His wife's rich relations die one after another, and remember her only by trifling legacies; his expenses are evidently greater than his income, and in a very few years, with the best intentions in the world, and wanting no good quality but foresight to avoid, or resolution to retrench expenses which his business cannot support, his country-house and equipage, assisted by the many good friends who almost constantly dined with him, drive him fairly into the gazette. The country-house is let, the equipage is sold, his friends shrug up their shoulders, inquire 'for how much has he failed?' wonder it was not for more; say he was a good creature, and an honest creature, but they always thought it would come to this; pity him from their souls, hope his creditors will be favourable to him, and go to find dinners elsewhere. NOTES ON SIR. H. DAVY'S SIXTH LECTURE, IN THE PRESENCE OF THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF RICHMOND, DUBLIN, 1810. (Galvanic troughs, containing 1040 double plates of zinc and copper, highly charged with muriatic acid, diluted :)— Platina was fused by the stream of electric fire, at an inch distant from the point of contact; which is not to be done by the concentration of the solar rays. 711 Sir H. Davy's Lecture.-Mysterious Story. An experiment never made before, was exhibited: gold, silver, and copper were burned first in the atmospheric air, and then in vacuo. They were found in vacuo to produce the same brilliant light as in the air; but instead of little explosions, and being dissipated into oxygen, as occurs in common air, the metals were melted only, and kept in fusion until the connexion of the electricity ceased, and the air was admitted. Hence an indestructible metallic illumination! The lecturer, by contacts of charcoal in the points of wires, shewed three lights in the gallery the moment he made the contact below. An iron wire in sulphuric acid produced sparks from the surface of the acid, as if it was a mass of metal; thus proving how nearly that acid is to be a perfect conductor. Spirits of turpentine produced no such appearance, but on contact with another wire and charcoal burned with a grass-green light, which decomposed the turpentine; at every ebullition an elastic vapour escaped. Alcohol, which is almost as great a non-conductor, afforded a beautiful light on the contact of the wires. Finally, a piece of iron in oxygen gas appeared like a fountain of vivid light: the effect was heightened by the influx of electric fire; by wires, the water rises as the gas is absorbed by the iron. A sheet of paper, covered with tinfoil and zinc-leaf, when damp, gives an electrive impulse to leaf gold. Sketch of the Progress of Electricity. The ancients knew two electric bodies; amber, and the fish electra. The first shock of a machine, which was conducted by holding a nail in fire, was so exaggerated by the surprise of its discoverer, that he declared he would not take another shock for the crown of France. Physicians asserted that a medicine put into the electric wheel would communicate its effects in the shock! The first cylinder was a bottle of water-the exaggerations at first were not so gross as the late imposition of metallic tractors, which were composed of brass and iron, the most unsuitable for galvanic effect. In the last century, itinerants carried small electric machines about the country, and many people gave money for experiencing this new and disagreeable sensation. Gilbert asserted magnetic power to be the mover of the planets, and was unjustly condemned by the great chancellor. TheLecturer defended Gilbert, with strictures on some of his errors. He described Bacon as the light of the sun obscuring the light of the stars. Philosophy was theologized by Plato, 712 made logical by Aristotle, and geometrical by Proclus. Thus all great men are inclined to bend general science to their particular study. Volta has the merit of deliberate scientific invention, in the brilliance of which, the original accidental discovery by Galvani is lost. England has done more than all the continent in electricity; it was when science flourished in the age of Lord Verulam that the attempt of Spain at universal dominion in the conquest of England was defeated; it was in the age of Newton, Locke, and Boyle, that England was as great in arms as in science; the present era is no less glorious, and we may expect the same results. Political strength is never found in a country destitute of the intellect that is favourable to science. Where philosophy grows feebly as an exotic, it is much to be feared that that country is in its wane; where it flourishes in the open native air, it is never unaccompanied by patriotic heroism. When we see the rose-tree bud, we may conclude the oak is also putting forth its leaves; and at this day, when another attempt is making on the continent for universal dominion, the British conquests in science are harbingers of her victories over the enemies of freedom and political wisdom. Practical science leads all true philosophers to see their dependence upon a Power which they cannot comprehend, and this leads to devotion. Then alone science is pure, because it springs from a pure source. MYSTERIOUS STORY.* THE following extraordinary narrative appears too horrible to be credited, yet too well attested to be disbelieved. It has been several times published; but the atrocity of its character will always preserve its interest from being injured by repetition.To many of our readers it will be new; and others, we presume, will tolerate the insertion for their sakes. It was first related by General Hulon,† in the winter of 1816-17, one evening at Sir Sidney Smith's, in Paris. The General stated that he had it from Marshal Junot, Duke of Abrantes, who was governor of Paris at the time it happened, and must, therefore, necessarily have been well acquainted with all the circumstances attending it. In the year 1805, as a poor mason was The principal features of this singular story were dramatised, with good effect, about twelve months ago, at one of the minor theatres, under the title of "The Mason of Buda;" but the scene and the catastrophe were entirely changed. General Hulon is brother of Madame Moreau, widow of the General of that name. |