that, in the beauty and sailing of our vessels, we leave the English far behind. That the self-styled mistress of the ocean should permit this, is very extraordinary; and one asks for a special cause. The cause which I assign, in my own mind, is the prevalence in England of long-established ideas and usages; while, in our country, every innovation that comes in the shape of improvement finds favor. We may have our faults and difficulties, and I do not, for my part, think lightly of them,-but, certainly, there is not and never was a country, where improvement has opened for itself a career so broad, unobstructed and free. It pervades every thing, from the building of a farm-house and the ordering of a village school to the planting of States and the forming of their constitutions. It is the very beau ideal of the country. To make a thing better than it has been made before, this is every man's ambition, from the humblest laborer to the highest artisan, from the maker of a plough to the builder of a manufactory. The all-knowing and inquisitive spirit of our people, however unbecoming and annoying at times, is of service here."Vol. II., pp. 237, 238.

But there is much in England, from which we may learn good lessons. One is, a greater attention to economy. Mr. Dewey observed a proof of this on board the steamboat:

"I observed, that a considerable number of passengers carried a comfortable picknick box or basket with them, and spread their own tables. With some, doubtless, this provision proceeded from a fastidious taste, that feared some poisonous dirt would be found in the common fare of a steamboat. But with many, I presume, it arose from a habit, which presents a marked difference between the people of England and of America; I mean, the habit of economy. In America, we are ashamed of economy. It is this feeling, which would forbid among us such a practice as that referred to; and not only this, but a great many more and better practices. In England, economy stands out prominently; it presides over the arrangements of a family; it is openly professed and fears no reproach. A man is not ashamed to say, of a certain indulgence, that he cannot afford it. A gentleman says to you, 'I drive a pony chaise, this year; I have put down my horse and gig, because I cannot pay the tax.' A man, whose income, and expenses, and style of living far exceed almost any thing to be found among us, still says of something quite beyond him, which his wealthier neighbor does, 'We are not rich enough for that.' One of the most distinguished men in England said to me, when speaking of wines at his table, The wine I should prefer, is claret; but I cannot afford it, and so I drink my own gooseberry.' I have heard that many families carry the principle so far, that they determine exactly how many dinners they can give in a year, and to how many guests; nay, more, and how many dishes they can put upon the table, when they do entertain.”—Vol. II., pp. 240, 241.

A boundless extravagance in our habits of living is a great evil in this country. It is one benefit of an artificial dis

tinction of ranks,-injurious as it may be in many other respects, that it prevents men from being ashamed to acknowledge, that others are richer than they. In our country, the political equality tends to produce a rivalry in the style of living, in dress, houses and furniture. The poor man, because he is equal, as a citizen, to his rich neighbor, often forgets the difference between their purses, and makes an effort to maintain external signs of equality, which he cannot afford. The effect of our political institutions ought rather to be, to make the poor man raise his head with the conscious dignity of a freeman, to rejoice in his privileges, as one of the confederate sovereigns of the land,-and trust to elevation of character and to mental culture, as claims to respect, rather than to houses, furniture and dress. An enlightened, virtuous freeman has dignity enough, though he may inhabit a humble dwelling and wear coarse apparel. He has no reason to envy the man, who inhabits a palace, and who is

"Stuck o'er with titles and hung round with strings."

Mr. Dewey is a thorough republican. He believes, that the cause of popular liberty is on the advance every where, and must triumph. He enters into an elaborate defence of our institutions and of popular rights. We must quote the following eloquent paragraph:

"For my own part, I am not ashamed to say, that my sympathies are with the people,-that my sympathies follow where the mightiest interests lead. To me, the multitude is a sublimer object than royal dignity or titled state. It is humanity, it is universal man, it is the being whose joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, are like my own, that I respect, and not any mere condition of that being. And it is around this same humanity, that genius, poetry, philosophy and eloquence have most closely entwined themselves; it is embraced with the very fibres of every truly noble heart that ever lived. But, not to dwell on considerations of this abstract nature, I look at facts; and facts, too, that are enough to stir the coldest heart that ever lived. I look upon this fellow-being, man, in the aggregate and in the mass, and I see him the victim of ages of oppression and injustice. I take his part; the tears of my sympathy mingle with the tears of his suffering; and I care not what aristocratic ridicule the avowal may bring upon me. My blood boils in my veins, and I will not try to still their throbbings, when I think of the banded tyrannies of the earth, the Asiatic, Assyrian, Egyptian, European,-which have been united, to crush down all human interests and rights. This is not, with me, a matter of statistics, or of political generalities. Down into the bosom of society, down among the sweet domestic charities of ten thousand million homes, down among the sore and quivering

fibres of human hearts unnumbered and innumerable, the iron of accursed despotism has been driven. At length, from the long, dark night of oppression, I see the people rising to reclaim and assert their rights. I see them taking the power, which to them indubitably belongs, into their own hands. I rejoice to see it. I rejoice, and yet I tremble. I tremble, lest they should retaliate the wrongs they have endured. But yet, what do I see? I see the people showing singular moderation. I repeat it, I see the people of France and England, in the great reforms which they have undertaken during the last fifteen years, showing singular moderation. Shall I not honor such nations? The people of my own country, I know still better; and for that reason, probably, I honor them still more. I firmly believe in the general disposition of the public mind in America to do right. Faults and dangers there are among us, and on these, I mean to comment freely. But that there is any general tendency among the people of America to lawlessness and violence, I utterly deny."—Vol. II, pp. 261–263.

The author proceeds with some valuable remarks on the dangers and safeguards of our institutions. We assent to most of them. He admits, that nothing can save us from ruin but the prevalence of religion and knowledge. These, he believes, are spreading their influence among us, and hence, he is full of hope for our country. We, too, amid some misgivings, cherish a prevailing hope, that our land is destined to be prosperous and free; but this hope rests on the belief, that God has intended to make this country an instrument for spreading the light of freedom and of true religion over the earth, and that He, whose interposition in behalf of our fathers may be seen on every page of our history, will not abandon their children. EDITOR.

VOL. II.-NO. V.

10

ARTICLE VII.

CHRISTIANITY ADAPTED TO MAN, AND THEREFORE TRUE.

The Connexion of Christianity with Human Happiness: being the Substance of the Boyle Lectures for the year 1821. By the Rev. WILLIAM HARNESS, A. M., of Christ's College, Cambridge. In two volumes. London. 1823. 12mo. pp. 290 and 348.

WE have been pleased and instructed, in the reading of these volumes, and we confess our surprise, that they have never, with suitable alterations, been given to the American public. They owe their origin, as their title-page indicates, to the pious and benevolent heart of the Hon. Robert Boyle, who, in a codicil annexed to his will, in 1691, appointed yearly lectures on the truth of Christianity. "A large portion of the subsequent pages," says the author, "was delivered in a series of sermons, at the church of St. Martins-in-the-Fields, in fulfilling the duties which are attached to the Boyle Lectureship, by the will of the founder." The design was "of a general nature; to prove the necessity of the Christian revelation, rather than to disprove any particular mode of unbelief, ** to demonstrate, *** that an inseparable connexion subsists between the reverence of the gospel and the happiness of man."* other words, it was designed to show the adaptedness of Christianity to man, in the circumstances in which he finds himself here, and also in his relations to the life which is to come, and hence to infer its truth. The end which the author had in view he accomplished, in a manner honorable, we think, to himself and to the cause of religion. The volumes, however, are not without defects. The sentences are sometimes too long and unnecessarily involved; and the introduction from other languages of untranslated notes, and sometimes phrases in the work itself, we deem quite inconsistent in volumes intended for the many as well as the few. But a more important defect we conceive to be this—the author has too exclusively considered Christianity in its adaptedness to the relations of this life, while, as the

* Preface, pp. vi., vii.

In

power of God unto salvation,-its adaptedness to man as an ignorant and lost sinner, has been passed over, in comparatively few words. That what he has said of the influence of Christianity upon man as linked with his fellow-man is true, we do no doubt; but we think he has unfortunately omitted to notice, at proper length, the manner in which this result has been accomplished. "Christianity is a Life and a living process. The inward life which it awakens in the individual, it develops in his outward life; then silently, yet certainly, its influence goes abroad upon the mass of humanity, and is manifested in an external conformity to its precepts.

On the single point, which we conceive Mr. Harness to have passed over too slightly, and which we regard as the one of transcendent importance, viz., the adaptedness of Christianity to man as an ignorant and lost sinner, we propose to offer our remaining remarks. And still adhering to the design of our author, we name our topic,-CHRISTIANITY ADAPTED TO MAN,

AND THEREFORE TRUE.

But suppose we shall succeed in showing, that Christianity is adapted to man, will its truth follow, as a right conclusion? We say, yes. Adaptation proves design: and Christianity, being fraught with benevolence, being literally a gospel (good news), must have been designed on high, where benevolence dwells. Adaptation proves design every where. When we look on the beautiful or the vast, the summer landscape, or the mountain, mirrored on the sunny lake below, and rising into the unfathomable blue above, we do not doubt, that light is designed for the eye. When the universal organ breathes its music,giving the deep base in the ocean-wave, the diapason in the forest cataract, the swell in the evening breeze, and filling up the unnumbered harmonies in the woodland chorus and the summer hum,-we do not doubt, that music is designed for the ear. Nor do we fail to pity the eye, that struggles in vain for light. We pity the ear, that listens, and listens, yet never hears the sound of music, or love, or consolation, or hope. The design of the Creator here is evident. He intended these adaptations just as they are,-light for the eye, sound for the ear, and if you separate the things adapted, pain ensues. So with Christianity. It is emphatically the religion for man. It is so truly adapted to him, that it would not benefit beings

* Coleridge's Aids to Reflection, page 131.