kept in a state of requisite purity. This is in all cases effected by bringing it at intervals into contiguity either with atmospheric air alone, or with water containing this air diffused through it; when such is the mutual action of the blood and the air upon each other, that the former is purified, and passes in general from a dingy purple to a bright scarlet colour, while the latter is in the same degree rendered impure, and after a time becomes inadequate to support either respiration or combustion. Now whether the aërating organs be lungs or gills, it appears to be the object of nature in their construction to expose a large surface to the contact of air. This object is accomplished by their division into numerous cells or leaf-like processes, or by their extension on the walls of cavities, or the surface of pectinated ridges. The blood brought to these organs is there distributed by their terminating branches. Although still retained in vessels, it can nevertheless be easily acted upon by the air on the exterior. Priestley found the colour of blood changed by the air when enclosed in a moistened bladder, and the same effect was observed by Hunter when it was covered with goldbeaters' skin. It is scarcely possible to determine by direct observation what is the exact nature of the changes that the blood undergoes in its passage through the lungs: the most obvious is its change of colour; and the chemical differences between the dark purple blood in the veins before it has reached the lungs, and the bright vermilion colour it exhibits in the arteries after it has circulated through the lungs, and been exposed to the influence of the air, may be collected from the changes made in the air itself. Atmospheric air is known to consist of certain principles in definite proportions; when it has acted upon the blood, and is returned from the lungs, it is found that a certain proportion of oxygen which it contained has disappeared, and that the place of this oxygen is almost wholly supplied by an addition of carbonic acid gas and watery vapour. The exact quantity of oxygen which is lost in natural respiration varies in different animals, and even in different conditions of the same animal. Birds, for instance, consume larger quantities of oxygen by their respiration, and hence require, for the maintenance of life, a purer air than other vertebrated animals. Vauquelin, however, found that many species of insects and worms possess the power of abstracting oxygen from the atmosphere in a much greater degree than the larger animals; thus snails are capable of living for a long time in the vitiated air in which a bird had perished. Some insects which conceal themselves in holes, or burrow under ground, have been known to deprive the air of every appreciable portion of its oxygen. It is observed by Spallanzani, that those animals whose modes of life oblige them to remain for a great length of time in these confined situations, possess this power in a greater degree than others which enjoy more liberty of moving in the open air; so admirably have the constitutions of animals been in every instance accommodated to their respective wants. nor while the plant is kept in the dark. That the carbon resulting from this decomposition of carbonic acid is retained by the plant, has been most satisfactorily proved by the experiments of Saussure, who found that this process is attended with a sensible increase in the quantity of carbon which the plant had previously contained. Thus the great object to be answered by this vegetable aëration,' says Dr Roget, speaking at considerable length of this undeniable evidence of design to which we have thus shortly alluded, is exactly the converse of that which we see effected by the respiration of animals; in the former, it is adding carbon to the vegetable organisation; in the latter, it is that of discharging the superfluous quantity of carbon from the animal system. On the whole, therefore, the atmosphere is continually receiving from the vegetable kingdom a large accession of oxygen, and is at the same time freed from an equal portion of carbonic acid gas, both of which effects tend to its purification, and to its remaining adapted to the respiration of animals.' We have not much space to devote to the contemplation of vegetables, but we are unwilling to leave the subject without alluding to some other evidences of design which we find displayed in them. Among these, nothing more beautifully demonstrates that nature, or rather the Almighty Creator of nature, proceeds on a uniformity of plan and design, than the fact that plants, as well as animals, are possessed of the means of reproducing and continuing their species. The pistil which occupies the centre of the flower is destined to produce the seeds, while the stamens of the plant contain the dust necessary for fertilising them, and without which the seeds would not produce young plants. Nature has guarded with nice care this precious dust, for on its preservation depends the continuance of the species. The apparatus by which in many flowers it is defended from injury, is very curious; nor are the means that are provided by which it comes in contact with the stigma of the pistil less demonstrative of a great, a wise, and a beneficent Providence. In some plants where the organs are in the same flower, the stamens are placed above the stigma, upon which the dust, or pollen, falls by its own gravity; in others, we find the contrary is the case, the pistil being the longest; but here the flower is generally drooping. To assist the emission of the pollen, and its contact with the stigma, in many plants the stamens possess a very apparent moving power. When ripe, the ten stamens of the rue are seen alternately to bend down upon the stigma, deposit their portion of pollen, and return to their former position. The stalks or filaments of the pellitory of the wall are possessed of a remarkable elasticity, and thus forcibly scatter the pollen. This is very apparent if touched by the point of a needle; immediately it acts with a jerk, which dashes the pollen with some force on the stigma. The same arrangement is met with in the barberry bush, in which the six stamens remain sheltered under the concave tips of the flower-leaves or petals, till some extraneous body, as an insect in search of honey, touches Now bearing in mind that the air coming in contact the filament, which instantly contracts, and also dashes with the blood of animals parts with its oxygen, and re- the pollen against the stigma. But all plants have not ceives in its place carbonic acid gas, let us consider the their stamens and pistils sheltered under the same veil; function of respiration, or, more properly, aëration, as it in many they are in different flowers, and in others even occurs in vegetables. It was necessary that some means placed on different plants. Here, again, we have to should be appointed by which this great quantity of admire the wise measures nature has taken for the carbon given out into the air by animals, and so inju- accomplishment of her designs. In many, the scattering rious to animal life, should be removed from it. We of the pollen is effected by the winds; to favour the have said that this principle was necessary to vegetable access of which we find in some, as the hazel, the leaves life; and here we find the means not only by which, in are not evolved until after the seed has been perfected; & very considerable degree, it is procured, but also by or, if the plants be evergreens, the leaves are needlewhich it is removed from the atmosphere. The leaves shaped, so as to present very little obstacle to the of plants are analogous to the lungs of animals, and sage of the pollen, which is secreted in much larger it is in them principally that the decomposition of the quantity than usual. Various species of insects, and carbonic acid absorbed from the air is effected. When especially the bee, are selected by nature for this purexposed to the action of the sun, they decompose that pose. In the pink we observe numerous small insects gas, retain its carbon, and disengage its oxygen. Solar creeping to and fro, and thus depositing the pollen on light is an essential agent in effecting this chemical the stigma. In flowers where the stamens and pistils change; for it is never found to take place at night, | are on different plants, often at a considerable distance pas from each other, bees, and other flying insects, are peculiarly accessory to the great end of nature. These insects, it is true, do not visit the flower for the purpose of scattering the pollen; they only seek for the sweet juice which exudes from its nectary. Their hairy body, which nature did not bestow without design, is seen covered with pollen, often in such quantities as to impede the progress of the animal; this, whenever they visit another flower, is rubbed against the stigma; and it is a fact, no less wonderful than calculated to fill us with admiration at the wise provision of nature, that many insects are peculiarly attached to one flower, and that others, as the bee, will only visit one species in each journey from its hive. The various methods which nature employs to disperse the different varieties of seeds over the earth are truly wonderful. Many plants, when the seed is fully ripe, discharge it from its covering with a jerk or elastic spring. The common oat is thrown out in this way; and the loud crackling of the pods of the broom in a dry sunshiny day, or, as Drummond has it, bursting seed-balls crackling in the sun,' is caused by their bursting and scattering about the contained seeds, and must have been frequently noticed. Who has not listened,' again asks Sir James Edward Smith, in a calm and sunny day, to the crackling of the furze bushes, caused by the explosion of their elastic little pods; or watched the down of innumerable seeds floating on a summer breeze till they are overtaken by a shower, which, moistening their wings, stops their farther flight, and at the same time accomplishes its final purpose, by immediately promoting the germination of each seed in the moist earth? How little are children aware, when they blow away the seeds of the dandelion, or stick burs in sport upon each other's clothes, that they are fulfilling one of the great ends of nature!' These downy appendages to which Sir J. E. Smith alludes, buoy up the lighter seeds, as the thistles, and carry them floating through the air to great distances. Then there are the currents of rivers which bear the seeds from one part of the country to another; and even seas and oceans, whose tides and currents float along the germs of vegetation to the various regions of the globe. Birds, too, by feeding on particular seeds, carry them to great distances, where, being often voided entire, they vegetate. There is evident design in all this. It could not have been by mere chance that in flowers which stand erect, the pistil is shorter than the stamens, permitting the pollen as it falls to descend upon the stigma; and when the flower is drooping, that the contrary arrangement is effected. It is not here out of place to remark, that there is scarcely a vegetable production on which some species of animal does not subsist; and, generally speaking, wherever that peculiar production is to be found, there also is the animal to which it furnishes wholesome food. With some striking examples of this kind the most uneducated man is acquainted: he knows that the partridge is on the plain, the woodcock in the forests, the grouse on the moors, and the ptarmigan on the loftiest peaks of the mountains. He knows, too, that other species migrate from country to country, seeking their food in distant regions, over trackless oceans, when it fails in their native haunts; and, among the animal kingdom, so universal is this, as to form an example of the wonderful adaptations which exist between it and the vegetable world. Vegetables, like animals, are adapted to varieties of climate and temperature; and when we consider their distribution over the globe, we shall find that those which are most essential to the maintenance of man, bear a variety of climate better than most others. This is the case with greens, carrots, potatoes, and many kinds of grain. Warm climates are much more favourable to vegetation than cold. In Spitzbergen, the whole number of plants with conspicuous flowers, natives of the country, is found by botanists scarcely to exceed thirty species; while in the warmer regions of the West Indies, in Madagascar and the coast of Coromandel, Willdenow enumerates from four to five thousand different species of indigenous plants. Now observe how admirably this distribution of plants corresponds with the wants and necessities of man. A vegetable diet is most suitable both to the tastes and the actual needs of the inhabitants of warm climates, and there we find that kind of food most abundant. It is impossible for a reflecting individual to walk beside a field of growing barley without being impressed with the conviction that, in the economy of this description of grain, the design of a Creator has been wonderfully manifested. An ear of barley differs from one of wheat or oats. Each of the grains is furnished with a long slender bristle or beard, which is prickly to the touch, and seems to serve as a protection to the ear. These bristles form a roof, if we may so call it, to carry off the rain from the ear, and yet, by their elegant disposition, do not prevent the heat of the sun and the light from influencing the grain. And why should such be the case with barley, when the ears of wheat, oats, &c. do not possess any such protective process? Because barley is a grain easily injured by wet, which, if not carried off, would cause the ear to sprout even while on the stalk, and consequently be entirely useless to man. In speaking of the economy of vegetable life, it should not pass unnoticed that there is a remarkable instance of Creative Wisdom in the means which have been arranged for the growth of plants from putrescent matter. All kinds of vegetable and animal substances, when deprived of life, as well as excrementitious matter, have a tendency to decomposition-that is, to resolve themselves into those elementary gases of which they have been chiefly composed. This process of dissolution, as every one knows, produces a most disagreeable odour, which is often inimical to animal life. But this is not an evil; it displays a bountiful provision in nature; for it tells us, in a way not to be misunderstood, that the substance undergoing, or about to undergo, the putrefactive process, should be buried underground; and being there deposited, it immediately proceeds to supply its no longer useful gases to the infant plants and crops of grain which flourish on the surface. Thus do we see another striking evidence of the harmonious design which everywhere prevails between the animal and the vegetable creation. It has been said that a vegetable diet is preferred by the inhabitants of warm countries: to them sobriety is an easy virtue, and a happy consequence of the climate. The people of northern regions, on the contrary, are voracious from instinct and necessity. They swallow enormous quantities of food, and prefer those substances which in digestion produce the most heat. Obliged to struggle incessantly against the action of cold, their life is but a continual act of resistance to external influences. Let us not reproach them with voracity, and their avidity for ardent spirits and fermented liquors. Those nations which inhabit the confines of the habitable world, in which man is scarcely able to withstand the severity of the climate, the inhabitants of Kamtchatka, the Samoiedes, &c. live on fish that, in the heaps in which they are piled up, have already undergone a certain degree of putrefactive fermentation. In them there is a necessity for this inward excitement, which in our climate would be inevitably attended with disease, and probably death. The abuse of spirituous liquors is fatal to the European transported to the burning climate of the West Indies. The Russian drinks spirituous liquors with impunity, and lives on to an advanced age, amidst excesses under which an inhabitant of the south of Europe would sink. The influence of climate not only affects alike the regimen of man in health, but of man in sickness; and it has been justly observed of medicine, that it ought to vary according to the places in which it is practised. A few substances, for the most part obtained from the vegetable kingdom, sufficed to Hippocrates in the treatment of diseases; and physicians who practise in a climate such as Greece, may imitate the simplicity of the father of medicine. Opium, bark, wine, spirits, aromatics, and the most powerful cordials, are, on the other hand, the medicines suited to the inhabitants of northern latitudes; and thus they are enabled to use freely those medicines which elsewhere would be attended with the utmost danger. We are now prepared to understand the beautiful and wonderful harmony that exists between the distribution of man and plants over the globe; and no one, we think, can deny their meed of praise and admiration for the care and beneficence which this universal adaptation exhibits. The frigid zone contains but few species of plants, and the verdure of those countries which lie within the polar circle is confined chiefly to the hills having a southern aspect, and the trees are of very diminutive growth. Besides mosses and lichens, there exist ferns, creeping plants, and some shrubs yielding berries of an agreeable flavour. The arctic regions of Europe are peculiarly favoured; for in certain parts of Lapland there are fine forests, and even rye and leguminous plants are produced. In the high latitudes of the northern temperate zone are the pine and the fir, which show their adaptation to a cold climate by retaining their verdure in the midst of the regions of winter. To these, as advancing southward, succeed the oak, the elm, the beech, the lime, and other forest-trees. Several fruit-trees, among which are the apple, the pear, the cherry, and the plum, grow better in the northern half of this zone; while to its more southern parts, especially, belong the more delicate fruits, such as the olive, the lemon, the orange, and the fig; and among trees, the cedar, the cypress, and the cork. The space comprised between the 30th and the 50th parallels of latitude may be considered as the country of the vine and the mulberry. Wheat extends as far north as the 60th degree; oats and barley a few degrees farther. In the southern parts of this zone, maize and rice are more commonly cultivated. The vegetation of the torrid zone is characterised by a richness, a variety, and a magnificence which are nowhere to be found in the regions of the globe. Under the beams of a tropical sun, the most juicy fruits arrive at perfection; and innumerable productions supply the wants, and administer to the luxuries of man. There the grounds yield the sugar-cane, the coffee-tree, the palm, the pine-apple, the cotton-tree, the bread-tree, the pisang, the immense baobab, the date, the cocoa, the vanilla, the cinnamon, the nutmeg, the pepper, the camphor, and numerous other fruits and aromatics. CONCLUSION. province of a new Creator, or under the direction of a different will. In truth, the same order of things attends us wherever we go. There is everywhere a perfect uniformity in the laws which regulate the phenomena of nature. And this very fact, while forcibly illustrating the unity of that Power by whose instrumentality all that we see was ordered and originated, demonstrates most strikingly at the same time the surpassing wisdom of the same creative Being. What agency, but one endowed with omniscience, could have educed results so mighty from a few simple and uniform laws? could have instituted and set in action these laws at the first, assured that, without change, or shadow of change, they would fulfil to the last all the great objects connected with the progressive development of the scheme of the universe? Thus all that we behold around us, all that we can learn of nature, impresses us with a sense at once of the unity, omniscience, power, and goodness of the creative Being. ETHICS. A knowledge of the great truth which we have attempted to demonstrate, forms the foundation of Ethics, or Moral Philosophy, which may be defined to be 'the science which treats of our obligations and duties as moral and responsible agents.' These duties it has been customary to comprehend under three divisionsthe duties which we owe to God, to our fellow-creatures, and to ourselves. It must not be supposed, however, that these several departments of duty, although arranged under different heads, are in the slightest degree opposed to one another. The very reverse is the case. They all harmonise together; and he, for example, who acts towards other men as he would wish them to act towards himself, affords the surest guarantee that he cherishes a due love and veneration for the Supreme Being, and that he entertains enlightened views regarding his own best interests; whereas of him who neglects the duties of justice, benevolence, and mercy, it may be truly said that he is destitute of those feelings which he ought to cherish towards the great Author of his being, and that he neglects the means by which his own happiness may be most effectually secured. Considerable difference of opinion has existed regarding what has been termed 'the moral sense'-the generality of moralists contending that it is a principle implanted in us by the hand of nature, while others But we must hasten to conclude our interesting sub-maintain that it is merely the result of cultivation ject. Illustrations of design might be produced from the works of nature without end; every link in the chain of creation teems with proofs of it; in none can any one affirm with truth that it is wanting. Cursory as our remarks have been, they still must lead to the general conclusion that not only design, but unity of design, and identity of operation, pervade the works of nature, in as far as relates to organised existences; and even among those portions of creation which are not organic, there do we find the same evident desire and design to render them subservient to the wants and necessities of those which are. To several of these we have alluded, though it did not accord with our plan to allude to all; and we need only further draw attention to the remarkable uniformity in the plan of creation. The universe itself is a system; each part depending upon other parts, or being connected with other parts by some common law of motion, or by the presence of some common substance. One principle of gravitation causes a stone to drop towards the earth, and the moon to wheel round it. One law of attraction carries all the different planets round the sun. New countries are continually discovered, but the old laws of nature are always found in them- -new plants perhaps, or animals, but always in company with plants and animals which we already know, and always possessing many of the same general properties. We never get amongst such original or totally different modes of existence, as to indicate that we are come into the and experience. There can be very little doubt, we apprehend, that the generally received opinion upon this subject is the correct one; for we cannot very easily conceive how, by any amount of cultivation, an important principle could be evolved out of a nonentity, or how it could be generated by the most varied experience, had not the germ of it previously existed in the human constitution. The advocates of the opposite opinion, however (among whom must be reckoned a distinguished ornament of ethical science, the soundness of whose moral principles at least has never been called in question), have apparently too much ground for the conclusion which they have arrived at. We see many atrocious criminals who seem to have cast off all moral restraint, and who act in such a manner as if they were totally unconscious of any distinction between right and wrong; and there are whole tribes of the human family to be found who appear to be immersed in such gross barbarism as to be utterly incapable of comprehending any such distinction. But we must not infer that in either of these cases the moral principle is altogether wanting. In neither, it is true, is it properly developed but in the one case it is blunted and overborne by habits of lawless depravity; and in the other it has never been able to spring up into maturity, in consequence of the want of some friendly hand to pluck up the weeds, and to root out the briers which choke and impede its growth. In neither case is it dead: it only sleepeth; and by the application of the proper remedy the reckless cri- | highly-cultivated theist will actually be disposed to minal may be made an exemplary member of society, cherish towards the Deity deeper feelings of veneration, and the ignorant and untutored savage may become gratitude, and love, than the rude illiterate barbarian; acquainted with the blessings of civilisation. No: but we have no hesitation in asserting, that from his there is no human being, however immersed in igno- acquaintance with external nature, and its nice adaptarance, however degraded by crime, who is entirely tions to the peculiar constitution of man, the former will devoid of this principle. Circumstances may indeed be rendered more capable of entertaining such feelings obscure it for a time, but it can never be altogether than the latter; and that the farther this acquaintance extinguished. Even the rudest barbarian knows that is extended, the more will this capability be increased. there is a Being infinitely superior to himself, to whom The same acquaintance with external nature, and he owes homage and allegiance, however imperfect with its adaptation to his own state and circumstances, may be his conceptions of the character of that Being, by which man acquires a knowledge of the duties which or of the nature of the allegiance which is due to Him. he owes to God, teaches him also those duties which he This is sufficiently attested by the fact, that in those owes to himself and his fellow-creatures; and if he is countries where no rational system of religion exists, a anxious to promote his own happiness, he will feel the multitude of superstitious ceremonies and observances necessity of acting in conformity with the system which have been substituted in its place. God has appointed. The Deity could have had no other end in view, in the formation of any of His creatures, than the benevolent one of rendering them happy; and He has instituted certain laws, by an adherence to which this important purpose will be most effectually accomplished. Whenever, therefore, man acts in accordance with the appointment of the Supreme Ruler of the universe, he fulfils the great end and object of his being, and consequently will enjoy that happiness of which his nature is susceptible; but when he acts in opposition to that appointment, he will necessarily experience suffering and misery-for no institution of the Deity can be violated with impunity. But how does even civilised man arrive at the knowledge of moral relations? The mere circumstance of his believing in the existence of an almighty, wise, and beneficent Being, who at first created, and still continues to uphold, the world, does not necessarily imply that he deems it his duty to worship and to serve that Being. Before he can be made aware of this necessity, the moral sense must be aroused; and this can be effectually done only by the cultivation and enlargement of his intellectual faculties. Before an individual can rationally worship God, he must be conscious of the relation in which he stands to Him; he must feel that God is his creator and preserver. By observing the But man is not an isolated being: he is a member traces of design discernible in the material universe, he of a great community of creatures of a nature similar is necessarily led to conclude that it is the work of a to his own; and he feels that between them and himdesigning mind; and when he discovers the admirable self there exists a mutual relation. Hence arises the adaptation of external nature to his own constitution, conception of that order of duties which he owes to his physical, intellectual, and moral, the inference is un- fellow-creatures. It is a part of the Divine plan that avoidable, that the same Being who created the one all the members of the human race should live in haralso formed the other. After he has been enabled to mony together; and in accordance with this plan, it is arrive at this conclusion, the moral sense comes imme- necessary that each should do everything in his power diately into exercise; and he will then feel it to be his to promote the welfare of others, and that all should duty to love and obey the great Author of his exist-practise those virtues which are essential to the very ence, who has made such bountiful provision for the existence of civil society. Now were each individual supply of his wants and for the gratification of his de- of the human family to be actuated solely by selfish sires. And the more he discovers of these wonderful motives, and were all to neglect or violate, without adaptations, the more will his sense of the obligations scruple, the virtues and duties of social life, then it is he is under to the Deity be increased, and consequently evident that the order of society would be deranged, the greater will be his ability to love and serve Him. the Divine plan for the happiness of the human race We could feel no affection for a Being on account of would be defeated, and universal suffering to indivihis having bestowed existence upon us, if mere exist- duals and communities would be the inevitable result. ence had been the only circumstance for which we were By the faithful discharge of these duties, on the other indebted to Him. He might have created us for the hand, the harmony and prosperity of mankind would express purpose of rendering us miserable; and then, be promoted, individual happiness would be secured, according to the present constitution of our nature, and the most acceptable homage would be rendered to instead of being disposed to love and venerate a Being the Deity; who, having instituted certain laws for the so malignant, we must unavoidably have regarded Him guidance and regulation of His creatures, is gratified with horror and detestation. The sense of benefits con- or displeased with them in proportion as they observe ferred is an essential pre-requisite to the feeling of or violate His wise and beneficent appointments. gratitude; and it is therefore evident that the untu- Thus we see that all the departments of man's duty tored savage cannot entertain such a lively degree of are inseparably connected together, and that the faiththis feeling towards the Almighty, as the man of culti-ful discharge of one class of these duties naturally leads vated intellect, who can penetrate into the secrets of to the performance of all the rest. And as a knowledge nature, and trace out its adaptations to the necessities of these duties, in as far as it is attainable by the unof his own complicated existence. The former may aided light of reason, is to be learned from a diligent indeed feel an emotion of gratitude to the Great observation of the laws of nature, and of man's relation Spirit' for his success in war or in the chase, or for to them, it is the duty of every human being carefully those spontaneous productions of the earth which sup- to study these laws, and to use his utmost endeavours ply his bodily wants and contribute to his animal gra- to bring his conduct into conformity with them. Were tification; but the man of cultivated taste can expe- such conduct to become universal, all strife and anirience an exquisite enjoyment in contemplating the mosity would be brought to an end; the whole membeauties of creation, and can appreciate the Divine good- bers of the human family would be knit together in ness in furnishing him with the means of such enjoy-one common bond of brotherhood; and that peace, prosment. And those phenomena of nature which terrify the savage, and cause him to have recourse to the most unmeaning ceremonies to avert the wrath of an angry and avenging Spirit, are regarded by the philosopher as the procedure of a wise and beneficent Being, who makes the elements the ministers of his pleasure, and sends forth the tempest and whirlwind for the purpose of clearing away those noxious exhalations which engender disease and death. We do not mean to affirm that the perity, and happiness which are only to be found in the fabled descriptions of the Golden Age, would overspread and gladden the earth. Beyond this, Natural Theology and Ethics, even in their highest and purest conceptions, cannot lead: the causes which retard such a consummation, the Divine scheme for their removal, and a knowledge of man's future destiny, belong to religion as revealed in the BIBLE-the history of which forms the subject of our following number, HISTORY OF THE BIBLE-CHRISTIANITY. ence. THE Bible is the most remarkable work now in exist- | In the libraries of the learned there are frequently seen books of an extraordinary antiquity, and curious and interesting from the nature of their contents; but none approach the Bible, taken in its complete sense, in point of age; while certainly no production whatever has any pretension to rival it in the dignity of composition, or the important nature of the subjects treated of in its pages. The word Bible is of Greek origin, and in signifying simply the Book, is expressive of its superiority over all other literary productions. The origin and nature of this in everyway singular work-how it was preserved during the most remote ages, and how it became known to the modern world in its present shape-form a highly-interesting chapter of literary history. OLD TESTAMENT. The Bible comprehends the foundation of the religious belief of the Jews and Christians, and is divided into two distinct portions, entitled the Old and New Testament, the former being that which is esteemed by the Jewish nation, but both being essential in forming the faith of the Christian. The Old Testament is the largest department of the work, and appears a collection of detached histories, moral essays, and pious poetical compositions, all placed together in the order of time, or as they may serve for the purpose of mutual illustration. On taking a glance at the contents, the principal subject of narration seems to be the history of the Jews, commencing with an account of the creation of the world, and tracing their history, genealogically, through a series of striking vicissitudes and changes of situation. But when we examine the narratives minutely, it is found that there is another meaning than that of mere historical elucidation. It is perceived that the whole train of events recorded, and the whole of those lofty impassioned strains of poetry which distinguish the volume, are precursory and prophetic of a great change which, at a future period, was to be wrought on the moral character and fate of mankind, by the coming to the earth of a Messiah. 6 The authorship of the Old Testament has been universally ascribed, by both Jews and Christians, to pious men, who were inspired or influenced by God to communicate to the world a correct knowledge of the foundations of religious belief and moral obligation. The Bible is hence called the Revealed Word of God, or the Sacred Scriptures. We are to look to the Word of God, then,' says the writer of the article THEOLOGY in the Edinburgh Encyclopædia,' as contained in the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, for the only sure rule of faith and practice. But there is this singularity in the Sacred Scriptures, that we do not find in them a set treatise on any one of the interesting subjects which engage our attention as moral and religious beings. No attempt is made to prove the existence of a God: such an attempt would have been entirely useless, because the fact is universally admitted. The error of men consisted not in denying a God, but in admitting too many; and one great object of Scripture is to demonstrate that there is but one. No metaphysical arguments, however, are employed for this purpose. The proof rests on facts recorded in the history of the Jews, from which it appears that they were always victorious and prosperous so long as they served Jehovah, the name by which the Almighty made himself known to them; and uniformly unsuccessful when they revolted from him to serve other gods. What argument could be so effectual to convince them that there was no God in all the earth but the God of Israel? The sovereignty and universal providence of the Lord Jehovah No. 75. are proved by predictions delivered by the Jewish prophets, pointing out the fate of nations and of empires, specifying distinctly the cause of their rise, the duration of their power, and the reason of their decline; thus demonstrating that one God ruled among the nations, and made them the unconscious instruments of promoting the purposes of His will. The writers, generally speaking, do not reason, but exhort and remonstrate; they do not attempt to fetter the judgment by the subtleties of argument, but to rouse the feelings by an appeal to palpable facts. But though there is no regular treatise in the Scriptures on any one branch of religious doctrine, yet all the materials of a regular system are there. The Word of God contains the doctrines of religion in the same way as the system of nature contains the elements of physical science. In both cases the doctrines are deduced from facts, which are not presented to us in any regular order, and which must be separated and classified before we can arrive at first principles, or attain to the certainty of knowledge; and in both cases a consistent system can only be made out by induction and investigation. The very circumstance of no detailed system being given, renders it necessary to form one; for although a portion of religious and physical knowledge, sufficient for the common purposes of life, may be obtained by traditional information, and men may work conveniently enough by rules without possessing much general knowledge, yet they who would teach with profit, must generalise, and they who would explain the ways of God, must arrange the materials which are so amply furnished, but which are presented apparently without order or plan.' The periods when the act of writing all or greater part of the Scriptures took place, as well as most of the names of those who were instrumental in forming the work, have been ascertained with considerable accuracy, both from written evidence in the narratives themselves, and from the well-preserved traditions of the Jews. Generally speaking, it cannot be said that the books of the Old Testament are of a less antiquity than from two thousand three hundred to four thousand years-an antiquity considerably greater than that of any profane history. At whatever time, however, the different books were written, they were not collected from the sacred depositories of the Jews, where they had been carefully placed, till long after their immediate authors were deceased; and their present arrangement, as we shall afterwards explain, is of comparatively modern date. Froin an early period it was the custom of the Jews to divide the books of the Old Testament into three classes, which they respectively designated the Law, the Prophets, and the Hagiographa, or Holy Writings, which last division includes more particularly the poetical parts; and some are of opinion that Jesus Christ alludes to this division of the Scriptures, when he says that All things must be fulfilled that were written in the Law of Moses, and in the Prophets, and in the Psalms, concerning him.' For by the book of Psalms they understand all the books of the third class. The Law comprehends the Pentateuch-that is, Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy-such including both a historical narrative, and the injunc tions forming the legal code of the Jews. The prophetical books are eight-namely, 1. Joshua; 2. Judges, with Ruth; 3. Samuel; 4. Kings; 5. Isaiah; 6. Jeremiah; 7. Ezekiel; and 8. The Twelve Lesser Prophets. The first four books of this division are called the Former Prophets, and the last four the Latter Prophets. The Hagiographa, or Holy Writings, are nine-namely, 1. Job; 2. The Psalms; 3. The Proverbs; 4. Ecclesiastes; 385 |