His eldest brother was the noted Lord Herbert of Cherbury, who wrote against revealed religion. Truly strange are the differences that are sometimes to be traced in sentiments, opinions, and ac tions, between children of the same family! How notable, in these days, the religious position of the two Newmans, fleeing from one another's cutting, but blindly cutting logic the one to the cloisters of the Romish Church, the other into and beyond the arid wastes of Unitarianism! George was the fifth son, in a family of seven sons and three daughters. The death of his father, when he was only four years of age, would leave him to the sole care of a mother, whose influence with him seems always to have been sacred. His brothers may have often led him to entertain worldly views, and views at variance with those of his thoroughly religious and intelligent parent; but he chose the good part; and now, both in the world and in the Church, his name and fame is greater far than theirs. In next number we shall quote some poems from "The Temple," illustrative of Herbert's doubts and struggles, and of the final choice he made. J. L. B. (To be continued.) READING.* We do not know any more gratifying characteristic of the present age, than the attempts now being made by the upper and literary classes to instruct and to arouse the masses. Lectures delivered by such men as Lord Carlisle, Sir Robert Peel, Lord Ingestre, and Mr. Layard, possess a value altogether irrespective of their literary merits-great though these indisputably are. They are valuable, inasmuch as they are calculated to knit together the bonds of society, and to lead the rich and the poor to cherish a mutual respect and mutual esteem for each other. The same end is, to a greater or less degree, accomplished by these courses of lectures which have, within the last few years, become so common and so popular in provincial towns. Delivered by the gentlemen and clergymen of the district, and attended generally by crowds of every class of society, we know that they have, in many cases, been attended with much beneficial results. Not merely have they proved a counter-attraction to the public-house, they have sometimes given rise to habits of reading and habits of thought, which cannot fail to be gratifying to every one interested in the welfare Books in relation to Mental and Moral Culture. By the Rev. William Lee, Minister of Roxburgh. Being the last of a Series of Lectures on Science and Literature, delivered in the Town Hall, Kelso. Kelso: Rutherfurd, 1855. of his fellow-men. It should never, however, be forgotten, that such lectures, to be really useful, ought not to be regarded as an end, but merely as means to an end. They should never be regarded as the "very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice," agreeable to listen to, but forgotten as soon as heard; they should serve mainly as hints and guides for future reading, for thus only can the hearers be truly benefited. Of this Mr. Lee seems perfectly aware; and if those who listened to his admirable lecture, put in practice in regard to lectures, the advice he gave them in regard to books, their gain will be great. Of the lecture itself, of its tone and style, we can speak in the very highest terms. The frequent and apt references to, and quotations from, many of our best authors, evince on Mr. Lee's part, not merely a hereditary knowledge of books, but also a degree of thoughtfulness and taste rarely to be met with. His object is to shew the exact relation in which books stand to the cultivation of the mind, and to point out the dangers of desultory and miscellaneous reading. And let it not be imagined, that these dangers are altogether imaginary. As our Lord warned His disciples that they should take heed not only what they heard, but also how they heard, so, in this age of cheap books, cheap newspapers, "In the case of books, however, as in the case of all other like means of culture, there is a right and a wrong method of study. We may be readers, and even great readers of books, without thereby cultivating our minds; nay, we may so read as to make our reading, instead of a help, a hindrance, instead of beneficial, detrimental to the improvement, elevaand moral nature,-a fact of great and tion, and development of our intellectual obvious importance which I desire especially to call attention to in this lecture, and a fact of which I shall proceed immediately to offer one or two illustrations. There are serious and mischievous misconceptions as to the terms on which the cultivation of the mind may be promoted by books. How often is it said to the young: 'Addict yourselves to reading, read anything, read in any way; only read.' And there are those who, if they but spend so much time in reading-no matter what, and no matter how they cheap reviews and magazines, we should appropriate, that we venture to quote take care not merely what we read, but them :how we read. In fact, the latter caution seems to us even more necessary than the former, since what we may denominate bad books, books positively injurious are now-a-days of comparatively rare occurrence, while intellectual dissipation in regard to books, as well as to sermons and to lectures, is, we fear, decidedly on the increase. Of the crowds who frequent Lecture rooms and public meetings, and who are never satisfied unless they hear at least three sermons every Sunday, and make one of the crowd that throngs after every popular preacher, how few are there who take heed how, and inwardly digest what, they hear! And in regard to reading, for which the opportunities are so much greater, this is still more emphatically the case. We have, as Sir James Stephen so graphically describes in his Lecture on desultory and systematic reading, our daily gallop over our news-read-imagine that they are carrying out paper," with its endless variety of topics; -then we have magazines and reviews coming in in shoals; while, finally, our book-club sends us in every month its miscellaneous collection of history, poetry, travels, and biography, with perhaps a sprinking of philosophy, or even of novels and tales. Now, we must confess, that when we have reckoned up the amount which some "book - devourers " get through in the course of a twelvemonth, and when we consider the impossibility of, to use Lord Bacon's words, their being able "to chew and digest them, that is, to read them wholly, and with diligence and attention," we have not unfrequently felt that it would not be difficult to maintain a very specious argument in support of Plato's paradox, that "the invention of letters has not materially improved mankind;" and that King Thamus had some show of reason for saying, that "letters, by making men neglect memory, will produce forgetfulness in their souls; because, trusting to the external and foreign marks of writing, they will not exercise the internal powers of recollection and thought." Mr. Lee's remarks upon indiscriminate and desultory reading are so just and so a great and beneficial mental process. Every book, every combination of paper, their eyes, possessed of magical powers printing, and boards, is an instrument, in for their intellectual and moral advancement. Every hour spent by them in reading, even though the act should be purely mechanical-an act in which neithe memory, nor the imagination, nor the ther the attention, nor the judgment, nor heart, is exercised at all-is an hour spent in the discipline and development of the highest powers of their being. This is hardly an exaggerated statement of this evening's lecture. It is an opinof opinions very prevalent on the subject ion, however, grossly and perniciously erroneous. If we would handle books and studies,' says Lord Bacon, and what influence and operation they have upon manners, there are divers precepts of great caution and direction appertaining thereunto. To the same purpose another high authority, Mr. Locke, thus writes: 'Books and reading are looked upon to be the great helps of the understanding be allowed that they are; and yet I beg and instruments of knowledge, as it must leave to question whether these do not prove a hindrance to many, and keep several bookish men from attaining to solid and true knowledge. This I think I may be permitted to say, that there is no part wherein the understanding needs a more wary and careful conduct than in the use of books."" 6 Our author, after some interesting remarks on the various characters of books, next discusses the question: Will the indiscriminate reading of books of all sorts promote true culture, or will it not rather impair and injure, than benefit the intellectual and moral powers? To this his answer is,— "It must be stated in the most emphatic terms language admits of, that without a careful selection of the actual books with which he occupies himself, a man's reading, even should he do nothing else but read, may not only fail to strengthen and elevate his higher powers, but produce results exactly the reverse. This rule applies both to the intellect and the affections. Many a man's mental culture, that is, the amount of his useful knowledge, and the capacity of the mind itself,-is, I am persuaded, diminished, instead of being augmented by his reading." Mr. Lee's defence of this opinion is exceedingly instructive. Our limits, however, forbid us to quote more than a few very apposite sentences, for which he is indebted to Bishop Butler, who says: "The great number of books and papers of amusement which, of one kind or another, daily come in one's way, have in part occasioned, and most perfectly fall in with and humour this idle way of reading and considering things. By this means, time, even in solitude, is happily got rid of, without the pain of attention; neither is any part of it more put to the account of idleness-one can scarce forbear saying, is spent with less thought than great part of that which is spent in reading. Thus people habituate themselves to let things pass through their minds, as one may speak, rather than to think of them; thus, by use, they become satisfied merely with seeing what is said, without going any further. Review and attention, and even forming a judgment, becomes fatigue; and to lay anything before them that requires it, is to put them quite out of their way.'" The concluding passage of the lecture is so replete with warning, as well as instruction, that we feel that we cannot do better than give it entire :— "We have thus seen, then, first of all, that the study of books is an admirable means of mental and moral culture. We have seen, however, secondly, that books must be rightly used to produce this result; and, indeed, that unless rightly used, the study of them may do more harm than good. I have dwelt longer on the latter point than on the former, because, in fact, it is the most important of the two, and that on which false ideas are most prevalent. And to what has been already said on that topic, it may be worth while still further to add a single observation, namely, that the caution which has been given as to a right and wrong method of study, applies not only to books on other subjects, but also to books on the most important of all questions, religion, and not only to other books, but also to the greatest of all books-a book which stands alone and unapproachable; that book which has God for its author, salvation for its end, and truth, without any mixture of error, for its subject matter'-the Holy Bible. What our Lord said to those who listened to the great doctrines and precepts of inspiration from His lips-'Take heed how ye hear'-must, with a verbal change, be addressed to us who receive divine revelation, not in a spoken, but in a written form. We must take heed how we read the Word of God. That Word possesses mighty influences. Read aright, it is able to make us wise unto salvation,' and is 'profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works.' It even regenerates and sanctifies our fallen nature. But we may read Scripture itself without profit; and more than that, the very Gospel of Christ, if a savour of life unto life' to some men, may, by their own misuse of it, become to others 'a savour of death unto death.' "One word in conclusion. Let us remember, that it is not for time only, but for eternity-not to fit us for the duties and enjoyments of the life that now is only, but also of that which is to come, that we engage in any of those processes-that we use any of those means by which the intellect and the affections are exercised and enriched, and invigorated and developed. It is right we should bear this in view, both to suggest to us those forms of culture which are most essential, and also to encourage us the more to give all diligence, and spare no pains or labour to make the most of the means of such culture which are now in our power. Let us not believe that any real knowledge thus once gained will ever be lost, either here or hereafter. At all events, the effects on the mind of that discipline which it undergoes in the par suit of knowledge-its increase of capacity-its freedom of action-its purification and elevation-these become a part of itself, and partake in its immortality. 'When I die,' writes Richard Baxter, I must depart, not only from sensual delights, but from the more manly pleasures of my studies, knowledge, and converse with many wise and godly men, and from all my pleasure in reading. I must leave my library, and turn over those pleasant books no more.' This, perhaps, is a thought which has disturbed many who yet knew, like Baxter, that to them to die was unspeakable gain. And it is true, that at death those pleasant books' must be left behind. Not true, however, that the knowledge, if worthy knowledge, thence derived, or the discipline and culture thereby promoted, must also be left behind. We must, at death, leave behind us the means, but not the result attained through these means. At death the scaffolding must be taken down, but the structure, that living temple which it has helped to rear and beautify for God's service, will not be taken down. There is no wisdom, or strength, or purity that is acquired in this world, whether by the aid of books or otherwise, that does not thenceforward doubtless constitute for the heirs of heaven an inalienable possession nay, there is, doubtless, no book we ever read, no thought that ever passes through our minds, no emotion that ever stirs our hearts, but will, for good or evil, influence our destiny at judgment, and our estate throughout eternity." If our remarks and quotations have succeeded in conveying any adequate notion of the value of the lecture before us,-a lecture which we regard as eminently seasonable,- —we are sure few of our readers will rest satisfied till they have read it all. And we think we can promise them, that the hour spent in reading it will never be regarded as one be put to the account of idleness." REFLECTIONS ON THE LORD'S PRAYER. to His sacred name, with reverence profound, Should mention'd be, and trembling at the sound! It was Jehovah-'tis our Father now; So low to us does Heaven vouchsafe to bow! His kingdom come. For this we pray in vain That He should all our trespasses forgive, WALLER. "When very young, Franklin shewed passionate fondness for reading, much ingenuity in argument, but, as he acknowledges, a disputatious wrangling style of conversation. 'I have since observed,' he says, 'that persons of good sense seldom fall into it, except lawyers, university men, and generally men of all sorts who have been bred at EDINBURGH!!!"-Lord Mahon's History. The will is tuneless to his ear who feels He brought it down that taught us how to Though all around is beautiful. pray, And did so dearly for our ransom pay. DANA. EXTRACTS OF LETTERS FROM THE EAST. THE BOSPHORUS. (Continued from page 16.) THERE is perhaps no place in the world more romantically beautiful, or more historically interesting, than the Bosphorus. The intense beauty of its deep blue waters, and the budding luxuriance of its banks, make it possess a freshness of which the eye is never weary. In olden times, as the division between the then old world and new, it possessed for the ancients an undefined importance; more lately, as the boundary so freely contest ed by Persian and Greek, Mohammedan and Christian, it has often played an important part in the world's history. Like the rich fringe of a beautiful garment, its banks excel in luxuriance the fertile lands which they border. A summer's day spent on its waters is never to be forgotten: it charms the mind for ever, like a dream of Eden. The clear blue waters sparkling and leaping around every promontory as they are carried along by the many currents-the endless combinations of incomparable scenery which leave you spell-bound with admiration the extraordinary way in which everything seems so completely to have fallen into the very place in the landscape which it should have occupied for the production of the general effect, enchants to a degree beyond any other scene I ever saw. The bewitching palaces built along the flood-their long line of pillars steeped in golden light-the trellised flowers and hanging gardens-the deeply shaded valleys-the picturesque villages stretching out on points, or snugly secure in some sandy bay, form a series of pictures no imagination can overdraw. Then, as one's boat glides along, an old battlement a castle of Roumelia or of Anatolia raises its grey walls amidst the foliage at your side, or the rapid caique, filled with its picturesque crews, silently passes within an arm's length. The mind is never left to itself; it is kept continually on the stretch by the variety of objects around. Huge line-of-battle ships lie along the very banks; and ships of every nation display their flags in the harbours. Never were these seas so crowded as at present. The fleet of screw transports alone is endless. The other day, I counted thirty-three steamers in the Golden Horn-no mean number for a place which till lately was almost deserted, The beautiful changes, too, which come over the Bosphorus, with the varying weather, and the rising and setting suns, no pen can describe. Sometimes a mist will conceal the sea and ships, and discover the palaces and mosques elevated, as it were, in mid air; while, at another time, all along the sea is clear, and everything above a low level concealed, till gradually, as the sun gains strength, ships and houses come from under the veil, as if brought to life by a magic wand, and the whole beauty of the matchless scene is unfolded to the eye. I saw both of these singular effects in the course of one day lately. The wild birds which frequent the Bosphorus, too, from long immunity, have become so tame, that they hardly stir a wing to escape your oar; and the merry porpoises bask in the sun, or dive briskly in the rushing tide, on every side of your caique. The precept of the prophet is their charter, and no one disturbs their inheritance. Claude Lorraine must have painted on the Bosphorus, or else the scenery of its shores is the development of his poetic dreams. The pillared porticoes on the tide's edge, the picturesque old ships, with their high prows and sterns, and odd rigs, and, above all, that peculiar light o'er sea and land-that matchless beam of sunshine and subduing dreamy colouring, which he has in so many of his pictures, is just what one sees daily on the Bosphorus. The Sultan is building a new palace, which, when finished, will certainly be one of the most elegant royal residences in Europe. It is built of an architecture singularly in keeping with the scene; and its internal decorations, all of the most elaborate description, make it an object of much interest to the traveller. But it is the wondrous panorama from the windows which makes this palace so singularly attractive. Placed on a slight bend in the Bosphorus, it commands a view of the entrance of the strait, and also of the Golden Horn, the Seraglio point, and of Stamboul, together with the ever changing, ever beautiful waters of the Bosphorus, which flash their blue waves up beneath the very windows. The taste displayed in building such an extravagant palace, when his soldiers are starving and shoeless, is another thing, of which I suppose the sultan is, or at least ought to be, himself the best judge. |