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ity approaching to piety; a seriousness of impression, a conscientious severity of argument, an habitual fervor and enthusiasm in their method of handling almost every subject. The debates of the schoolmen were sharp and subtle enough; but they wanted interest and grandeur, and were besides confined to a few: they did not affect the general mass of community. But the Bible was thrown open to all ranks and conditions "to run and read," with its wonderful table of contents from Genesis to the Revelation. Every village in England would present the scene so well described in Burns's Cotter's Saturday Night. I cannot think that all this variety and weight of knowledge could be thrown in all at once upon the mind of the people and not make some impression upon it, the traces of which might be discerned in the manners and literature of the age.

SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON. 1788-1856. (Manual, p. 466.)

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FROM "THE DISCUSSIONS ON PHILOSOPHY."

339. MATHEMATICAL STUDY AN INSUFFICIENT DISCIPLINE. Before entering on details, it is proper here, once for all, to premise, In the first place, that the question does not regard, the value of mathematical SCIENCE, considered in itself, or in its objective results, but, the utility of mathematical STUDY, that is, in its subjective effect, as an exercise of mind; and in the second, that the expediency is not disputed, of leaving mathematics, as a coördinate, to find their level among the other branches of academical instruction. It is only contended, that they ought not to be made the principal, far less the exclusive, object of academical encouragement. We speak not now of professional, but of liberal, education; not of that which considers the mind as an instrument for the improvement of science, but of this, which considers science as an instrument for the improvement of mind.

Of all our intellectual pursuits, the study of the mathematical sciences is the one, whose utility as an intellectual exercise, when carried beyond a moderate extent, has been most peremptorily denied by the greatest number of the most competent judges; and the argu ments, on which this opinion is established, have hitherto been evaded rather than opposed. Some intelligent mathematicians, indeed, admit all that has been urged against their science, as a principal discipline of the mind; and only contend that it ought not to be extruded from all place in a scheme of liberal education. With these, therefore, we have no controversy. More strenuous advocates of this study, again, maintain that mathematics are of primary importance as a logical exercise of reason; but unable to controvert the evidence of its contracted and partial cultivation of the faculties, they endeavor to vindicate the study in general, by attributing its evil influence to some peculiar modification of the science; and thus hope to avoid the

loss of the whole, by the vicarious sacrifice of a part. But here, unfortunately, they are not at one. Some are willing to surrender the modern analysis as a gymnastic of the mind. They confess, that its very perfection as an instrument of discovery unfits it for an instrument of mental cultivation, its formulæ mechanically transporting the student with closed eyes to the conclusion; whereas the ancient geometrical construction, they contend, leads him to the end, more circuitously, indeed, but by his own exertion, and with a clear consciousness of every step in the procedure. Others, on the contrary, disgusted with the tedious and complex operations of geometry, recommend the algebraic process as that most favorable to the powers of generalization and reasoning; for, concentrating into the narrowest compass the greatest complement of meaning, it obviates, they maintain, all irrelevant distraction, and enables the intellect to operate for a longer continuance, more energetically, securely, and effectually. The arguments in favor of the study thus neutralize each other; and the reasoning of those who deny it more than a subordinate and par- ́ tial utility, stands not only uncontroverted, but untouched — not only untouched, but admitted. The mathematician, as already noticed, is exclusively engrossed with the deduction of inevitable conclusions, from data passively received; while the cultivators of the other departments of knowledge, mental and physical, are, for the most part, actively occupied in the quest and scrutiny, in the collection and balancing of probabilities, in order to obtain and purify the facts on which their premises are to be established. Their pursuits, accordingly, from the mingled experience of failure and success, have, to them, proved a special logic, a practical discipline — on the one hand, of skill and confidence, on the other, of caution and sobriety: his, on the contrary, have not only not trained him to that acute scent, to that delicate, almost instinctive tact, which, in the twilight of probability, the search and discrimination of its finer facts demand; they have gone to cloud his vision, to indurate his touch, to all but the blazing light and iron chain of demonstration, leaving him, out of the narrow confines of his science, either to a passive credulity in any premises, or to an absolute incredulity in all.

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THOMAS CHALMERS. 1780-1847. (Manual, p. 465.)

FROM "THE BRIDGEWATER TREATISE."

340. THE JOY of Good, and the MISERY OF EVIL AFFECTIONS.

God is the lover, and, because so, the patron or the rewarder of virtue. He hath so constituted our nature, that in the very flow and exercise of the good affections there shall be the oil of gladness. There is instant delight in the first conception of benevolence; there is sustained delight in its continued exercise; there is consummated

delight in the happy, smiling, and prosperous result of it. Kindness, and honesty, and truth, are of themselves, and irrespective of their rightness, sweet unto the taste of the inner man. Malice, envy, falsehood, injustice, irrespective of their wrongness, have, of themselves, the bitterness of gall and wormwood. The Deity hath annexed a high mental enjoyment, not to the consciousness only of good affections, but to the very sense and feeling of good affections. However closely these may follow on each other, - nay, however implicated or blended together they may be at the same moment into one compound state of feeling, — they are not the less distinct, on that account, of themselves. *

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In the calm satisfactions of virtue, this distinction may not be so palpable as in the pungent and more vividly felt disquietudes which are attendant on the wrong affections of our nature. The perpetual corrosion of that heart, for example, which frets in unhappy peevishness all the day long, is plainly distinct from the bitterness of that remorse which is felt, in the recollection of its harsh and injurious outbreakings on the innocent sufferers within its reach. It is saying much for the moral character of God, that he has placed a conscience within us, which administers painful rebuke on every indulgence of a wrong affection. But it is saying still more for such being the character of our Maker, so to have framed our mental constitution, that, in the very working of these bad affections, there should be the painfulness of a felt discomfort and discordancy. Such is the make or mechanism of our nature, that it is thwarted and put out of sorts by rage, and envy, and hatred; and this, irrespective of the adverse moral judgments which conscience passes upon them. Of themselves, they are unsavory; and no sooner do they enter the heart, than they shed upon it an immediate distillation of bitterness. Just as the placid smile of benevolence bespeaks the felt comfort of benevolence, so in the frown and tempest of an angry countenance do we read the unhappiness of that man who is vexed and agitated by his own malignant affections, eating inwardly, as they do, on the vitals of his enjoyment. It is therefore that he is often styled, and truly, a selftormentor, or his own worst enemy.

THE FORCE OF CHRISTIAN EVIDENCE STRENGTHENED BY THE CHRISTIANITY OF THE WITNESSES.

Tacitus has actually attested the existence of Jesus Christ. Suppose that besides attesting his existence, he had believed in him so far as to become a Christian. Is his testimony to be refused because he gives this evidence of his sincerity? Tacitus asserting the fact, and remaining a heathen, is not so strong an argument as Tacitus asserting the fact and becoming a Christian in consequence of it. Yet the moment the transition is made, a transition by which, in point of fact, his testimony becomes stronger, -in point of impression it becomes less; and by a delusion common to the infidel and the believer,

the argument is held to be weakened by the very circumstance which imparts greater force to it. *** A direct testimony to the miracles of the New Testament from the mouth of a heathen is not to be expected. We cannot satisfy this demand of the infidel; but we can give him a host of much stronger testimonies than he is in quest of — the testimonies of those men who were heathens, and who embraced a hazardous and a disgraceful profession, under a deep conviction of those facts to which they gave their testimony. "O, but now you land us in the testimony of Christians." This is very true; but it is the very fact of their being Christians, in which the strength of the argument lies. In the Fathers of the Christian church we see men who, if they had not been Christians, would have risen to as high an eminence as Tacitus in the literature of the times; and whose direct testimony as to the Gospel history would, in that case, have been most impressive even to the mind of an infidel. And are these testimonies to be less impressive because they were preceded by conviction and sealed by martyrdom!

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. 1800-1859. (Manual,

p. 461.)

FROM THE "ESSAY ON MILTON."

341. FALLACIOUS DISTRUST OF LIBERTY.

Ariosto tells a pretty story of a fairy, who, by some mysterious law of her nature, was condemned to appear at certain seasons in the form of a foul and poisonous snake. Those who injured her, during the period of her disguise, were forever excluded from participation in the blessings which she bestowed. But to those who, in spite of her loathsome aspect, pitied and protected her, she afterwards revealed herself in the beautiful and celestial form which was natural to her, accompanied their steps, granted all their wishes, filled their houses with wealth, made them happy in love, and victorious in war. Such a spirit is Liberty. At times she takes the form of a hateful reptile. She growls, she hisses, she stings. But woe to those who in disgust shall venture to crush her! And happy are those who, having dared to receive her in her degraded and frightful shape, shall at length be rewarded by her in the time of her beauty and her glory.

There is only one cure for the evils which newly acquired freedom produces and that cure is freedom! When a prisoner leaves his cell, he cannot bear the light of day; he is unable to discriminate colors, or recognize faces. But the remedy is not to remand him into his dungeon, but to accustom him to the rays of the sun. The blaze of truth and liberty may at first dazzle and bewilder nations which have become half blind in the house of bondage. But let them gaze on, and they will soon be able to bear it. In a few years men learn

to reason. The extreme violence of opinion subsides. Hostile theories correct each other. The scattered elements of truth cease to conflict, and begin to coalesce. And at length a system of justice and order is educed out of the chaos.

Many politicians of our time are in the habit of laying it down as a self-evident proposition, that no people ought to be free, till they are fit to use their freedom. The maxim is worthy of the fool in the old story, who resolved not to go into the water till he had learnt to swim! If men are to wait for liberty till they become wise and good in slavery, they may indeed wait forever.

FROM THE "ESSAY ON BARERE."

342. EVILS OF THE REIGN OF TERROR.

We could, we think, also show that the evils produced by the Jacobin administration did not terminate when it fell; that it bequeathed a long series of calamities to France and to Europe; that public opinion, which had during two generations been constantly becoming more and more fovorable to civil and religious freedom, underwent, during the days of Terror, a change of which the traces are still to be distinctly perceived. It was natural that there should be such a change, when men saw that those who called themselves the champions of popular rights, had compressed into the space of twelve months more crimes than the kings of France, Merovingian, Carlovingian, and Capetian, had perpetrated in twelve centuries. Freedom was regarded as a great delusion. Men were willing to submit to the government of hereditary princes, of fortunate soldiers, of nobles, of priests, to any government but that of philosophers and philanthropists. Hence the imperial despotism, with its enslaved press and its silent tribune, its dungeons stronger than the old Bastile, and its tribunals more obsequious than the old Parliaments. Hence the restoration of the Bourbons and of the Jesuits, the Chamber of 1815, with its categories of proscription, the revival of the feudal spirit, the encroachments of the clergy, the persecution of the Protestants, the appearance of a new breed of De Montforts and Dominics, in the full light of the nineteenth century.

And so, in politics, it is the sure law that every excess shall generate its opposite; nor does he deserve the name of a statesman, who strikes a great blow without fully calculating the effect of the rebound. But such calculation was infinitely beyond the reach of the authors of the Reign of Terror. Violence and more violence, blood and more blood, made up their whole policy. In a few months, these poor creatures succeeded in bringing about a reaction, of which none of them saw, and of which none of us may see, the close; and, having brought it about, they marvelled at it; they bewailed it; they execrated it; they ascribed it to everything but the real cause their own immorality, and their own profound incapacity for the conduct of great affairs.

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