your It would appear that God has selected from among us, those who are most meet for his kingdom, most ripe for glory, Gray and dear brother. Adams, Bowden and myself, have been dangerously ill with fever; but God has spared us, and by their deaths tells us to 'prepare to meet our God."" "It was a gratification, in which I participated while following his dear remains, to behold the marked respect paid to his memory by every individual in the corps. He was a Christian indeed! and on no occasion (although we have buried nine officers) was there such a general feeling of estimation and of love, as in the present, and at the funeral of dear Gray." I hope that a fuller account of those servants of God may yet be given to the public. The example of Christians, especially in such circumstances, is surely of great value and importance, who followed the Lord in earnest, and gave all diligence to the full assurance of hope unto the end. If their Christian friends are comforted by these proofs that they are ever with the Lord, they will surely be desirous of confirming others, of exciting those who may be slothful, and of awakening such as are asleep, or dead in trespasses and sins. Edinburgh, March, 15, 1817. C. S. To the Editor of the Christian Observer. MUCH has been written in your pages, on the imagination, and on the nature and tendency of those literary works which appeal to it. If the following hasty remarks should appear to you worthy of in sertion, they are at your service. In treating of the imagination, there are some points which may be assumed, being generally admitted (at least as I hope) by all your readers; as for example, first, that imagination is a distinct faculty of the mind, like the reasoning faculty, the understanding, and others; se condly, that in common with all these other faculties, it was part of the original endowment with which the human mind was gifted at the creation; thirdly, that in common with all our other faculties, it was perverted at the fall; and fourthly, that the avowed plan of the Go spel, being to restore all things, not to abolish them, the imagination, as well as every other faculty of the mind, ought to be directed, not extirpated. The question, therefore, is; To what use may it serve; and how may it be directed? This ques tion indeed, even so limited, is be yond my present purpose; and I have only opened it in this way with a view to invite inquiry, and, if I might venture to hope for such an effect from my statement, to guide it to that point on which it may be most practically useful. A few cursory suggestions on this part of the subject, such as happen to occur to myself, will be all that I attempt in this paper. One of the great uses to which the imagination seems capable of being applied, in our present state, is that of serving as a relief to the more continued exercise of our other faculties. When a student becomes fatigued with deep reasoning, patient investigation, close attention, or a considerable effort of memory, the mind requires relief; and that relief will be sought, if he is wise, not in total inaction, but in the exercise of a different faculty, which has not yet had any employment, just as walking is a relief to the rider, and riding to the walker. A similar relief is often found no less serviceable to a tradesman, or labourer, after a long and close attention to business, or under great bodily fatigue. There is also a third cause, which may perhaps be thought to require this relief still more absolutely; and that is, the distraction, arising from a multiplicity of trifling concerns, which are apt to try the temper, and operate unkindly upon the affections. In all these cases, the mind becomes more or less jaded and harassed, and loses that elasticity which is necessary to fit it for ordinary enjoyments. But, in the last case, it is in danger of being still further perplexed, unhinged, and fretted, so as to be even deprived of all that relish and satisfaction which seems essential to a cheerful performance of duty. It is surprising, under any of these circumstances, what relief is instantly found in the most trifling play of the imagination. The countenance, which may be regarded as the mind's index, brightens in a moment; the burden that oppressed it becomes light, and is forgotten; and the spirits recover that spring and tone, which impart to the several faculties of the mind their proper vigour and action. Hence it is, that conversation with an old acquaintance, or upon old times, or any thing, in short, which draws off the mind from present objects, and carries it abroad, is felt to be strangely efficacious in promoting vivacity, and that too, perhaps, in some proportion to the previous depression; it being found, that persons enter into these recreations with more zest when they escape to them from severe employment than when they meet with them as matters of course. It is, in short, with the amusements of the mind, as with those of the body; we must be fitted for them by exertion: The imagination, however, requires to be stimulated to such reasonable activity. The sight of old friends, or benefit of pleasing conversation, is not to be had at the exact times or in the exact measure that may be needful. But an amusing book is always at hand, and may be taken up or put down at pleasure, while its power over the mind, and the sweet oblivion which it induces, of the cares and troubles and vexations of life, is sufficiently attested by the eagerness with which novels and romances of all kinds are read, even by many who join in condemning them. This power of transporting us out of the sensible world, and enabling us to leave all its uneasinesses and necessities behind us, constitutes the peculiar charm of works of fancy: for, as they Body forth The form of things unknown, we seem to be carried, as it were, into another creation. Things, that have long ceased to be, renew their existence; and things, that can never be, become both probable and real, while they are just so far removed from us as to be softened by distance, but not ob scured by it, and while, though the pleasure that they awaken is not imaginary, the very pains which they occasion please. Advantages like these, so well suited to a checkered scene of existence, are not to be lightly thrown away, especially since that which relieves fatigue in health, often makes us insensible to suffering in sickness, and disarms unavailing sorrow of its sting. But in direct proportion to the power of any engine is the necessity to guard it from perversion: and if works of imagination enable us to "pass the flaming bounds of space and time," it is a matter of immeasurable importance to determine into what world they carry us. I know of no class of books which ought to be selected with more care, in forming a library for the nursery, or for young persons who have left it, than those which exercise the imagination. If they carry us into a world of increased sensuality, like the paradise of Mahomet, their effect must resemble that of stimulants in a fever; while, on the other hand, by introducing us to purer scenes and nobler enjoyments, they may add to their other recommendations the more powerful one of becoming subsidiary to the influence of prin. It should be observed too, that ciple. There are many generous the imagination may be exercised and noble feelings, far removed by other works besides works of from the selfish motives by which fiction. Some portions of history, the world at large is actuated, and voyages, travels, and even some for which common life does not pro- didactic works, afford sufficient vide sufficient excitement to keep play to that lively faculty, if it has them from languishing through been properly regulated, to proinaction; and whatever tends to duce all the relief that is wanted; kindle and awaken these, and thus and they produce it better for not to create some taste for the loveli- supplying any excessive stimulus; ness of virtue, may have a more for the problem to be solved, as it friendly influence, where the holier strikes me, is, not what may most sanctions of religion are either powerfully affect or stimulate the wanting or feebly felt, than many imagination, but what may most a grave lesson, for which the heart easily rouse it to moderate action, has not been duly prepared. To at the least expense of artificial keep all parts of the mind in suc- excitement. C. C. cessive action is essential, or at least eminently conducive, to its healthy condition; because our feelings, like spirited horses, are kept better under command, for being accustomed to gentle and regular exercise. It is thus familiarized with scenes of difficulty and with the conduct of the good and great, when exposed to them, before it is called to act under them. It contemplates perplexity at leisure, and danger without dismay; and, being filled with exalted and generous sentiment, is better disposed both to applaud generosity in others, and to practise it when occasion requires. To the Editor of the Christian Observer. THE following passage, which I have lately met with in "Sewel's History of Friends," appears so contradictory to the statements inserted in your Number for April, 1816, that I am induced to offer it for your consideration, viz.: " George Keith, who now preached up and down where the bishops thought fit, went, by their order, to New England, New York, Peunsylvania, &c.; for it seems he imagined that in those parts he should get many adherents among the QUAKERS, but he came much short of his aim: for even in Pennsylvania, where many of the BAPTISTS formerly sided with him, he was by them looked upon with disdain, and rejected for wearing a clergyman's gown; and now appearing to be a great apostate, there was no likelihood for him to get an entrance, or to be esteemed there," &c. &c. Not only Sewel, but Clarkson, in his Life of Penn, &c. represent the character of Mr. Keith in a very unfavourable light. Sewel particularly, in his second volume, relates his holding the sentiments of Francis Mercurius, Baron of Helmon, respecting the transmigration of souls. I trust it will be in the power of some of your readers to elucidate 2 H To the Editor of the Christian Observer. ON a subject in which so many are implicated as novel reading, I am surprised that only one champion on each side has as yet entered the lists. A. A. attacks all novels indiscriminately as causing a criminal waste of time, enervating the mind, and injuring the morals. Candidus generously surrenders to him the common farrago of circulating libraries; that is to say, all those tedious and insipid productions which are destitute of interest, pathos, or wit - all from which he could derive no gratification. He even condemns them to the flames with the zeal of an inquisitor, little thinking that his own productions were destined to experience a similar fate. But by this concession Candidus onlyproves his literary taste. For every work of genius, however faulty in other respects, he seems determined to shed the last drop of his iuk. I was particularly disgusted at the tenderness with which he treats the works of Fielding and Smollett, works whose licentiousness seems to demand an universal proscription. The Almighty has gifted us with various powers physical and intellectual, and, amongst them, with imagination. All the rest have their various uses and gratifications al- more criminal than he who, after spending many a thoughtful hour on Euclid's Elements and Peacock's Conic Sections, rises at› length thoroughly convinced, that the square of an ordinate on the axis major of a hyperbola varies as the rectangle under its abscissæ; and that the equation of the hyperbola, when referred to its diameter, is of the form b? -- I may be y=2 ax+x2x. in an error; if so, I only ask A. A. to point out my error perspicuously: I ask but for simple proof. I should suppose that A. A. would not recoil with horror from Plutarch's Lives (though some good judges have pronounced these little better than novels; I mean, in respect to their truth): I would ask him, in what respects Miss Edgeworth's "Ennui" is more, objectionable. Would it tend more to enervate his mind, and to injure his morals? He may say, it is less instructive. I would ask him, whether it be more useful to know that Brutus saw a vision before the battle of Philippi, than to know that Lord Glenthorne overcame his vis inertiæ? If A. A.'s anathema on the pleasures of fiction, imagination, and taste, be generally received, it will be difficult to fix the bounds of our proscriptions. A novel in verse is as much a novel as a novel in prose. Homer, Virgil, Eschylus, Shakspear, Dante, Ariosto, Tasso, Spenser, must all be swept from our shelves, with Campbell, Southey, Scott, Richardson, Edgeworth, Hamilton, and More. They may differ in the shades of their genius; but I know no argument which can be adduced against the one, which is not applicable to the others. The Cartoons must be committed to the flames, and the Laocoön calcined into mortar. But I trust that no one in the present age will attempt to destroy these finer pleasures of the intellect-these nobler luxuries of the cultivated mind, to rob language of all its magnificence and grace, to strip nature of all the rainbow hues in which the glance of the poët invests her scenery, to forbid the fibres of the soul to throb with interest, melt with sympathy, glow with the noble energy of feeling, or suspend their motions for a moment, in a thrill ing pause of awe, while the deep tones of sublimity vibrate on the sense. I join heartily with A. A. in condemning an excessive love of works of imagination, as I would condemn an excessive love of any of the objects or occupations of this fleeting world. But I consider them as a recreation of a high order. They may often convey useful instruction. Miss Edge worth has made the present age more acquainted with the manners of the lower Irish than any tourist could have done; and few will dispute the still higher benefits conferred on society by the Cheap Repository Tracts of Mrs. More. I agree with A. A, in reprobating, in the strongest manner, whatever is immoral in its tendency. We should do well if we imitated the example of Sancho the Prover. bialist, and committed all guilty authors to a bonfire. But I beg leave to remind him, that a work of fiction is not necessarily immoral. Till the contrary, therefore, is demonstracted, I shall continue to believe that fiction is not necessarily adverse to morality and religion, and may even be rendered a useful auxiliary to them. All I ask is proof-proof by abstract reason, that they are incompatible; and this, I think, A. A. will not be able to adduce. I know not, sir, how far my sentiments will agree with yours: I hope they will justify me in assuming the signature of CANDIDIOR. To the Editor of the Christian Observer. As the Christian Observer is republished in America, and appears to be greatly esteemed there, I may hope, through your permission, to awaken the attention of those who are not indifferent to the progress of religious knowledge, by an ob servation on the Travels of Captains Lewis and Clarke, in 1804, 1805, and 1806, to discover the source of the Missouri, &c. &c. which I have just read with great interest. 1 was most seriously disappointed at not finding, through the whole work, one single notice of the Sabbath, even of the slightest kind. Christmas Day was observed, but in such a manner as heathens might be expected to celebrate one of their festivals. The death of one of the soldiers occurred, and he was buried with proper honours: a salute was fired over his grave; but no mention is made of any religious service being used on the occasion. The expedition was in route three years, passed through the grandest scenery, navigated one of the noblest rivers in the world, was exposed to a variety of vicissitudes, and experienced, in |