vent all reconciliations, which a fair compose them. There is no mode in and prudent compromise (often the path alike of rectitude and of true policy) might produce, by leaving utterly without credit and authority those who might be disposed to recommend or adopt a middle course, and by rendering it dangerous for any one to profess these more moderate and healing principles. Whether in political or in religious parties, we shall be rendering a real service to the cause of truth and concord, by endeavouring to counteract this disposition, and to increase the consideration and weight of those whose greater moderation and more tried integrity give us the best security against the headlong violence and pernicious effects of party bigotry. Again. This passage instructs us not more to distrust ourselves, and our own party, than to be candid in our constructions and judgments of the principles and conduct of others. How little did the heated cavaliers, or even the less violent partizans of the unfortunate monarch, conceive that, even up to the very end of the civil war, many who were understood to be decided parliamentarians were, not only in their hearts, but even avowedly, loyal, and, as was proved to be the case in Mr. Baxter's instance, were ready to venture their lives in the maintenance of the king's authority, within what they conceived to be its just constitutional limits. It was a man not eminent for benevolence or candour, but one who had been so long conversant with parties as to be a standing authority in all that regards their nature and tendency: it was the Cardinal de Retz who declared, that, in judging of the principles and actions of men of an opposite party, we are more often deceived by mistrusting people than by Would the real confiding in them. ly disinterested and better disposed of opposite parties hear each other, and discuss their points of difference with mutual liberality and frankness, many a breach might be healed, many a difference composed. But, untortunately, there prevails too general a disposition to depreciate the principles and characters of our opponents. This inflames and embitters differ ences; thus blows up a trifling spark into a mighty flame; this prolongs hostilities and counteracts the efforts of the lovers of peace to soften and which, especially in religious contests, The last remark I will now make, is on the difficulty, if not the impos sibility, of drawing back, when we have once joined a party, or engaged in any course of opposition, even though we may, perhaps, have become conscious that we have advanced too far in civil or in religious divisions. At first, pure in our intentions and sanguine in our expectations, we move forward with ardour towards our object. All around us, we trust, are as well meaning as ourselves. But as such powerful, temptations to unchriswe proceed, new scenes open on us. tian tempers and practices;-to la eWe perceive that the stream is be- hood, to artifice, to a dereliction of at ginning to run too rapidly; but the least the stricter principles of christian current, which we ourselves were at truth and love; as almost always more first instrumental in producing, hur- or less to corrupt the man who is ries us along with it. We strive, per- placed in such a dangerous predicahaps, in vain to arrest its progress; ment. Whether, therefore, we are and if, like good Mr. Baxter, our likely to act a chief or a subordinate sense of duty prompts us to the at- part, let us endeavour steadily to keep tempt, we too soon discover our own in view the short but comprehensive impotence. Meanwhile we, proba- commands of scripture; to do justice, bly, begin to discover that one of our and love mercy, and walk humbly comrades had either originally con- with our God; to cultivate a constant ceived projects less upright than our spirit of humility and truth, and own, or else that his principles have peacefulness and love. Let these be been corrupted by success; that fa- the great sea marks, the polar stars, vourable occasions have called forth to direct the course of every real passions, the seeds of which had hi- christian. Let him beware of the therto laid dormant in his bosom, un- smallest aberration from the track perceived and unexpected, perhaps, which those plain christian principles even by himself. He yields to the point out to him; observing as he seductive influence of ambition, or passes along the rock and quicksands avarice, or power, till at last he who, on which others have made shipas a private man and a private chris- wreck, and avoiding their errors that tian, might have lived virtuous, use- he may not share their fate. And if ful, justly respected and beloved in he be tempted to decline somewhat public or in private life, and have from the line of duty, by the hope of died in such a state as to afford both recommending himself to the favour to himself and others a well grounded and securing the applause of the little confidence as to his future lot, be- band, or sect, or party, with which comes marked in the page of history he may be connected; let him' stea for all the vices which can blacken dily resist the temptation, ever reand disgrace the human character. membering that while he thus adhere's In the drama of real life it falls, in- to his prescribed course, he may not, deed, to the lot of few to sustain this perhaps, attract much notice or obtain part on a large stage; but on a small much applause, but his voyage canone it is often acted. The character not but be safe and its issue happy. and fortunes of a Cromwell on a lesser Let him use himself to consult his Biscale are not seldom realized in the ble, and to follow the dictates of his successful leader of a sect or party. own conscience rather than conform He emerges from obscurity, humble, in all things to the fashion of the day. modest, and confined alike in his pre- Let him cleave to fundamentals, and tensions and views; but, by degrees, be less busied in thinking of talking either his real character developes it about any deeper and more subtle self, or it undergoes a change: he points of speculation, than about those becomes more eminent; he acquires grand practical truths in which is conthe art of attaching to himself follow- tained, if we may so speak, the vital ers: his influence increases: he be- essence of christianity; which will comes more and more conspicuous. for ever animate the love, and call But as he advances, bis character for forth the praises, of the Redeemed in practical religion declines in the esti- a better world. These great fundamation of others, and unless he con- mental peculiarities of christianity he trives to stifle the still small voice of must never relinquish, or keep back, conscience, he declines even in his or lose sight of. Let him love to own. He loses the purer principles dwell on those great and essential which at first he professed, and of doctrines on which he agrees with his which originally, so far as human fellow christians of other parties, raeyes could discern, he really felt the ther than on those minuter and more power. He becomes the head of a contentious points of difference, which party, a situation which, whether of are the subjects of such unhappy di a greater or a smaller body of adhesions among those who profess alle rents, contains so many, and those giance to the same Saviour; who trust in the same redeeming blood and sanctifying spirit; who call themselves children of the same father; and who hope to live together hereafter in the same blessed society, and to join in the same song of praise for evermore, If these habits of mind, and this course of conduct, render him who maintains them less eminent as a partisan, they will render him, however, a happier man and a better christian. He will enjoy inward peace, which, if this life only be regarded, is ill exchanged for popularity: and however he may be outshone by others of less scrupulous principles and of more bustling habits than himself, he will be more than compensated by the consciousness that he is endeavouring to tread in the steps of his meek and lowly master, and to obey his great injunction, to cultivate a spirit of universal love and concord. I will follow him no farther: but if his lot be preferable here, its superiority hereafter can be still less doubtful. Whatever others may affect to think of his want of energy, there can scarcely be a question but that he possesses the temper of mind most suited to that better world, where all discord shall at length cease, and where peace and love shall be perfect and eternal. SCRUTATOR. To the Editor of the Christian Observer. WHATEVER is injurious to piety must be a proper subject for animadversion in the Christian Observer. Those, indeed, who act in open hostility to Christianity, are not likely to be checked by any observation which may come from such a quarter; but the friend of christianity will surely not be offended if it is suggested to him, that he may possibly have injured the cause, which it is his earnest desire to support, by countenancing practice which, though highly injurious, is not uncommon: I mean the practice of telling anecdotes of mistakes which have been made in reading the scriptures at church. The most solemn parts of the word of God are, by these means, connected with some ludicrous idea; an idea which, perhaps, can never be erased from the mind, and which effectually prevents the impression that these passages are calculated to make: for I suppose it will be granted, that a serious and a ludicrous impression cannot be made at the same time. This being the case, we can hardly imagine that the greatest enemy to religion could have hit upon a better expedient to promote his designs, than the practice here al luded to. In order to perceive its full effect, we have only to suppose that the whole of our church service, and all the most striking parts of scripture, had some ridiculous story connected with them. I was lately in a large company at a friend's house, when the conversation took the turn in question. Several clergymen were present of great learning and piety, between whom much useful conversation had previ ously passed. One of them happening to tell a story of a strange blunder made by a parish clerk, it was immediately followed by another, till the whole company catching the conta-, gion, almost every one had some laughable story of the same sort to relate. Several young persons were present, who seemed so much to enjoy the conversation, that I apprehend they never will read or hear the texts which were mentioned, without associating them with the anecdote that caused so much mirth. I will likewise take the liberty of mentioning another practice, which I have often witnessed, and which, though not precisely the same, is very similar in its effects: I mean the talking on religious subjects in a manner which has a tendency to excite laughter. Some persons, from their peculiar turn of mind, are much tempted to this. I do not mean to charge them with want of reverence for religion, but whilst they indulge themselves in this way of talking, they are not aware of the impressions which they may be making on the minds of others. All such as have a natural turn for wit and humour should here be on their guard. Religion is not a gloomy, but it is a serious thing. The subject of this paper may, perhaps, appear strange to some who have never met with any thing of the kind: many, however, I am convinced, will feel its importance. O. R. It is impossible not to feel the force of O. R.'s animadversions. No small portion of blame, however, is also due to those clergymen, who, by their careless and incorrect manner of reading the scriptures, furnish matter for ludicrous anecdote. MISCELLANEOUS. To the Editor of the Christian Observer. I HAVE been highly gratified in finding the very important subject of charity schools taken up by N. D. in some of your late numbers. He has evidently considered it deeply, and treats it with perspicuity and ability. I, for one, bave received much pleasure and instruction from his paper, and promise myself still more from his future communications. I take up my pen as a fellow-labourer (a very humble one) with him, and my object is to defend one of the outworks of his citadel, which, while his mind was occupied by higher objects, he has unwarily laid open to assault. Speaking of "the prejudice which has, of late years, been so unhappily excited in the breasts of many against the communication of instruction to the poor, as tending to diffuse jacobin principles," he says, "whatever truth there may be in this idea can only apply to that mistaken form of education, which consists solely in enabling the children of the poor to read, and which, of course, opens to them sources, otherwise shut, of democratical poison. If it is said, as frequently it is, in defence of communicating such knowledge to the poor, that with the poison you supply the antidote; if they are able to read bad books, they are also furnished with good ones: the defence is not satisfactory; for, in the present corrupt state of man, the bias towards evil is stronger than towards good, The valid answer is this: that a true system of education, the only one which ought to be defended, is expressly calculated to counteract that discontented turbulent state of mind which is the proper soil of jacobinism; that its end is to improve the morals; its means, the diffusion of sound religious knowledge, and the cultivation of right dispositions." Now, Sir, I am not prepared to say, that "the valid answer" given by N. D. is the only valid answer to what he rightly calls the "true system the objection he mentions: nor that of education" is "the only one which ought to be defended." I will first offer some remarks on the former point. Certainly the best antidote, beyond comparison, to all the evils which any one can apprehend from giving instruction to the poor, is that which N. D. points out in the end of the preceding quotation. But still the question remains, how far the merely learning to read renders them more dangerous to the community and it must be answered by the decision of another question; namely, what will be the ability, and what is likely to be the disposition, of a man who can read, to overthrow the government of his country, compared with one who cannot? These points must be separately considered. First, then, we will suppose, that there is a disposition to rebellion. The superior ability to do mischief which is derived from being able to read, can only operate in the individual's being more able to make converts to his cause, or in his being more able to organize or execute jacobinical projects. Doubtless some knowledge of letters is of the highest use to the chiefs and their leading agents in any scheme of insurrection. If any historical proof of this fact were wanting, it would be abundantly supplied by a review of what has taken place among the jacobin societies of Britain and Ireland. But the history of those societies, and of the effects which they have produced, equally proves that no tincture of literature among their inferior members is at all wanted to give success to their plans. In Ireland the most illiterate men have been as formidable, when under the direction of a few of superior attainments, as they could have been, if able to read and write. Ignorance has not been found to impair the secresy with which their plans were matured, nor to lessen their blind enthusiasm in their cause, and unnerve their arms. It has even rendered them, in some respects, more useful instruments in the hands of their leaders, by excluding that degree of debate and rivalry which must otherwise have distracted their counsels, and ensuring a more implicit obedience and more entire devotedness to their chiefs. Now the mere instruments in such a cause are always the great mass; and if they are made even more dangerous by their ignorance, an endeavour to exclude the common people from schools must add to the strength of jacobi-, nism, unless such success could be expected from the attempt, as to extend the empire of ignorance over every class of the community, likely to furnish rebellion with propagandists, plotters, and contrivers. The most sanguine advocates for depriving the poor of education, must despair of effecting this, or any thing approaching to it, in the present state of society. For what have we seen even in Ireland, a country whose lower classes are in a state of rudeness and ignorance, to which the English could not be reduced by any thing short of a political convulsion of the most fatal kind? Were the numbers of the disaffected small for want of propagandists, or their plots ill-organized because intelligent leaders were not to be found? I think I may venture to say, that if the barbarism of Ireland had been far greater, the cause of rebellion would not have declined on that account. A few artful men can lead a multitude of uneducated rustics: and those very rustics become able apostles of jacobinism, when once they have learnt the easy lesson taught by their chiefs. Let no one suppose that jacobinism is a sort of science not to be understood and taught by those who cannot read. Nothing can be more short and simple than its dogmas, and they approve themselves at once, without the aid of argument, to the perverse and selfish passions of a man in a state of semi-barbarism. "Why should your neighbours be richer and more power ful than you, since, by nature, you and they are equal? And why should you, who are poor and depressed, suffer this to be so, since your arms are as strong as those of the rich and great, and in numbers you are as a hundred to one?" Tliese are propo sitions which the man who cannot read is perfectly able to comprehend, and to enforce on others; and similarity of habits, of feelings, and of modes of expression, may render him, if he possess natural strength of mind and flaming zeal, the most formidable perhaps of all the preachers of jacobinism among men of his own class. Let us now consider whether the disposition to jacobinism is likely to be greater in the poor man who has never heen taught to read, or in one who has been at a charity school. Your correspondent, N. D. has very justly pointed out a discontented turbulent state of mind as the proper soil of jacobinism. And where do discontent and turbulence most abound? Where self-will and passion have been most indulged during childhood and early youth: where the neck has been unbent to the yoke, and the stubborn spirit has not been taught to submit. Now what persons are more likely to answer to this description than the uneducated poor? The regular rou tine of a school; the habit of looking up to the authority of a master; the necessity of exercising patient attention; and the wholesome discipline which follows disobedience: all have a powerful tendency to check the growth of the dispositions and habits most favourable to jacobinism, even though the business of the school be of no higher kind than mere spelling and reading. These benefits of a school, it is true, are supplied in one degree or other even to the unedu cated poor, by the industry to which their station in life calls them, and by the exercise of parental authority. But they are almost always supplied very imperfectly. Parents, in the lower ranks of life, frequently follow employments which will not admit of their paying much attention to their children, and almost always are too much engaged to attend to them regularly, and systemically like a school-master. Add to this, that, by habit, if not also by ability, he is general. ly better qualified than they to manage children. The general rules which he finds it necessary to adopt, have a strong tendency to exclude the ca price and inconsistency that are too often found in the conduct of pas rents: and the submission paid to him by his school at large leads to a more prompt and cheerful obedience from each individual scholar, than the au |