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Ptolemy the Fourth, or Philopator, it seems most probable that he was a contemporary of that prince; and, consequently, that the version was not composed at a later period than the third century before Christ. The citations from Demetrius are made by Eusebius through the medium of Alexander Polyhistor, who flourished in the reign of Lathyrus, and was of course either contemporary with, or subsequent to, the author whom he quotes. Hody considers Demetrius as a Gentile historian. Jerome, however, (De Scriptor. Eccles.) classes him with Aristobulus and Eupolemus, as Jews, who wrote on the antiquities of their nation in a manner similar to that adopted by Josephus. The last mentioned author (lib. 1, contr. Apion) appears to have confounded him with his namesake Demetrius Phalereus. (See Huet, ibid. ; and Hody, lib. ii. c. 3.)

I am, sir, your obedient servant, H. H.

HOSEA, v. 7. SIR,-Will any of your correspondents have the kindness to favour me with a literal translation from the original of Hosea v. 7 ? My attention has been called to this passage by the translation of the word épvoißn, which occurs in this verse in the Septuagint, and is rendered in our version “ a month.I cannot find any authority for this mean. ing of the word. It seems to me that a mistake has arisen in the first instance from the negligence of the printer, and that the word has been originally “ a moth,” which appears to me more agreeable to the context, though I fear that épvoißn will hardly bear this translation. August 2nd.

M. N.

ON READING THE LITURGY. SIR,- It has been the wisdom of the church to provide that the whole of the Scriptures should be publicly read over once, at least, every year. This order was intended to be a prominent feature in her services, and it was done by way of returning to the practice of the ancient fathers. Prayer in a known tongue, and the reading of the word of God, “ very and pure,” thus became the two grand parts into which she caused her offices to be divided. The latter was enjoined with a special view to redress the inconveniences which had arisen from those "uncertain stories and legends, with multitude of responds, verses, vain repetitions, commemorations, and synodals,” which in the Romish church had been made to supersede the purer practices of the ancient fathers, and the free use of the uncorrupted word of God. Yet, sir, the Romish missal contains in many of its gospels the very identical passages of holy writ which are contained in our own Prayer Book, and the ten commandments in like manner, though in a form somewhat abridged. It is not to these, therefore, that we can point as to an arrangement peculiar to ourselves. We might, indeed, point them out as being fuller and longer in many instances than the portions which are appointed to be read in the Romish missal, but wholly peculiar to ourselves they could never be considered to be. This pre-eminence, sir, I conceive, must be reserved to those portions which we call the lessons for the various days of the year, and which indeed comprehend, as a whole, nearly the whole of the inspired volume. The lessons are the part of the service most peculiar to ourselves. In the lessons it is that we

should place our chief pride and glory. These no honest church would fear, no dishonest church would dare, to read. No dishonest church could read them without condemning herself out of her own mouth. Dare the Romanist to read them as we do?

Yet, sir, it must be remembered that “we have this treasure in earthen vessels;" and it cannot be expected, nor does it prove, in fact, that the word of God, thus appointed to be read, produces all that effect which the framers of our admirable liturgy must have fondly anticipated. It is to this unhappy, most unhappy failure, and to the causes and remedies of it that I am most anxious to call the attention of your readers. These are times which make every man jealous of every impediment, however slight, to the successful working of the great machine of our reformed church establishment. We wish now to put out our utmost strength, to strain every sinew, compatibly with established rules and rights, to give full efficacy to every institution, rite, and practice of that establishment. Shame would it be to us, (if, when our founders provided us with the principle, we should fail in carrying that principle into execution,) if our downfal should be occasioned by any neglect or fault of our own. The remarks which I have to offer on the subject of the lessons will do good, if they only awaken the attention of others better able than myself to conduct the question.

Where cathedral chaunting is not in use, and congregations are not very careful to respond with enthusiasm to the voice of the priest in those otherwise most animated offices of the Te Deum, the Magnificat, &c., where consequently these offices are rather read than felt-read too, for want of a general spirit of congregational zeal, not in the most animated or the most solemn manner-the effect is, that the word of God, as contained in the lessons, seems half-buried and lost in a confused heap (as it may appear) of prayers and responses; and, lagging heavily behind, seems only to act as a drag upon the rest of the service.

I, sir, for one, should hail the day with rapture when a Glory be to Thee, O Lord," sung in loud anthem, should precede the lessons, those towers of our strength, as it already does the gospels, which the Romanist may say he has in common with ourselves; when those portions of the Scriptures, no less than these latter, and no less than the ten commandments themselves, should be rehearsed with equal solemnity from the holy table itself; when for this purpose the minister should descend from his place of prayer and proceed to that table as his place of rehearsal ; when the Te Deum, or the anthems corresponding, or some other shorter and simpler chaunts, should be sent up to cheer him on his way, as well as to raise and kindle the eager attention of all present, and to prepare the worshipper for the words of his God. One can scarcely but admit that some such arrangement (for it is merely a question of arrangement) would not be wholly without its effect; it could not but operate beneficially, both in relieving any possible monotony or lengthiness in the service, felt more by the weak than by the strong, in heightening devotion, in honouring God's word, in impressing it with greater solemnity upon the hearers, and in bringing out, so to speak, into stronger relief, one grand characteristic distinction between the formulæ of our own and those of the Romish church.

But not to insist on changes of this sort—not to give any handle to innovation, even in things indifferent—are there no means, I ask, of compassing the same desirable ends without having recourse to such questionable means? A difficulty, no doubt, is felt by ministers, by some* more than by others, to give the Scriptures their full effect as an express message from Heaven, or to produce a suitable impression on the minds of the hearers. It may be difficult to pass suddenly from the tone of devotion to the tone of authority, to drop the

Especially those who think the study of reading not worth their while.

accents of penitence and to assume such inflexions of voice as may in turn suit a narrative, an argumentative, a didactic, a poetic style, as the case may require. But did the church forget this difficulty? Did she tender no advice with a view to meet it? Hear her instructing her minister, so to stand and turn himself as he may best be heard of all present;" and thus to “ read distinctly with an audible voice.”. Precisely in the same words, and even less fully does she charge him to rehearse the service appointed for the communion, “ Then shall the priest, turning to the people, rehearse distinctly all the ten commandments, &c.” Where the instructions are less full than before, because (I suppose) the station of the priest in the latter case was thought enough of itself to command the attention of his audience.

Now to this latter injunction we find our ministers, in the generality of cases, corresponding most faithfully. Only let them try to correspond with equal precision to the call of their church when they rehearse the lessons, as when they are rehearsing the commandments, and they may rest assured that a new spirit will be kindled in their congregations.

In some churches, sir, I have heard the second lesson followed with great effect by a short anthem, which at once throws it into relief, only that it would be better before than after. In cathedrals, the Te Deum, &c., are themselves anthems, and an attention is drawn to the lesson by a change of voice, arising from a change of the officiating minister. But in those churches which form the majority in our land few will deny but that, for want of some such arrangement, the lessons are not made to stand out and be felt as a prominent feature in the service; and it is very much to be lamented that they thereby lose their due effect, and that which their Divine origin, at least, should secure to them, even above those excellent formulæ of prayer and praise in the midst of which they are placed. I am, sir, your obedient servant,


And late Fellow of St. John's Coll., Camb. Grosvenor-square, June 4th.


Minor Morals for Young People. By John Bowring. Whitaker and Co.

1834. 12mo. There is a second volume of this publication advertised, and the first has not yet been noticed in this Magazine. It is hard to excuse this negligence in any way; for very few greater treats than this book have been seen of late days. The world has heard much of the greatest-happiness principle, but the heavy cloud of dull and dry metaphysics (or rather what assumed the name) in the Westminster Review effectually repelled almost every reader, and, in all probability, the reading public has no sort of guess what the greatest-happiness principle means. They need burst in ignorance no longer. Dr. Bowring has obligingly undertaken, in this volume, to make it plain and easy to the meanest capacities. The greatest-happiness principle being the only one in which morals can be effectually taught, he has felt it to be a duty to supply the total deficiency of all sound moral instruction for the young, and bring this heavenly principle down to their apprehension. They will be mean capacities indeed which do not at once now apprehend it. Distance and obscurity are sad enemies to that which deserves admiration. There are things to which distance and obscurity are the best friends. Reste à prouver how this is with the greatest-happiness principle.

Be it known, then, to all men, by these presents, that the rules of morality are these (p. 172)—

(1) “ That is right which makes the world happier."
(2) " That is wrong which makes the world more miserable."

This, it seems, is the rule as respects others. As respects ourselves, the sage gives the rule in p. 109, when discussing whether it is right to tell a lie or not. After observing that all motives are the same in intention-i. e., that he who tells a lie, and he who abstains from it, act equally from the hope of happiness or advantage—he adds—

“ The determination that prompts to the virtuous action has made a wise calculation of pleasure, and the opposite determination has made a foolish calculation."

In mixed cases, where our own and other people's good may interfere, the rule is, that we are to consider whether, on the whole, the world will be happier by the act being done or not. If I lose more happiness than my neighbour will gain, I am not to do the act in question. But if he will gain more than I shall lose, the stern greatest-happiness principle requires me to do it.

It is hardly necessary to say that this great philosopher, propounding, as he does here, under a new name, a meagre rechauffée of the old system of expediency, leaves wholly untouched what the supporters of that system (many of whom really did understand what they were about) could make nothing of, while they kept on their own low and narrow ground. That is to say, what will make others or ourselves happier-in a given case, what is a wise calculation, he does not tell us, simply because he cannot. It will make a drunkard happier to give him spirits, and a miser will be happier by having gold; but even Dr. Bowring would not, one supposes, counsel this. Why? Because it would not, in the long run, make them happier. How do we know what will ? And there we are in the old slough of Despond, from which neither Paley, nor any one else, could get out. But conceive the modesty, or the knowledge, of Dr. Bowring and his clique, in proposing this old Crambe as something new. If he does not, at least, allow that his is the wise expediency system, let him shew the real difference. Does this sect really think, when they are at all rational, that happiness is a thing of which the senses will judge, and from the present moment? Doubtless they would have a rule then, and a pretty rule it would be. This probably must, in their less lucid intervals, be their fancy, for Dr. B. tells us (p. 109) that one cannot be deceived by the greatest-happiness rule—that every body can judge of happiness. (p. 253.)

But really it would be absurd to argue with such people, and they are so exquisitely and gravely comic that, notwithstanding the odious meanness and baseness of every view, wish, thought, and rule, it is impossible to be angry with them. The solemnity with which they vent the most common-place truisms as profound truths, the still greater solemnity of their wit and humour, and the perfect unconsciousness with which they propose the worst meanness, really quite disarm one. Let us look at a few of their proceedings.

First, then, the oracle has maxims of prudence, as well as of virtue (1) “ Give no advice which is injurious to yourself!"-p. 51. (2) (A reason for preferring Botanical Collections to any others of objects in Natural Philosophy. Or, be sure to give nothing away which you like yourself.) “ You cannot multiply minerals, &c., at will; you cannot communicate to others this species of your riches, without self-deprivation; but of most vegetables you can easily increase the number !"-p. 121.

(3) “ To violate truth is to lose reputation, and this is imprudent. The case which would justify falsehood by producing a result of good is so rare that a man must be quite sure it will warrant the sacrifice of a portion of his reputation."

(4) " Do not indulge in vain regrets or useless self-reproaches."-p. 119.

p. 98.


“ Time must be employed either in doing what is useful, or what is not ; for the time that is not usefully is uselessly employed.”—p. 114.

“Happiness is made up of pleasures."-p. 115.

“Nobody can be happy unless he is pleased at something; but it is not every pleasure which makes happiness.”—p. 115.

“ There are three ways of speaking of every action of men's lives; one in ap

proval, one in disapproval, and one which conveys no opinion as to merit or demerit.”—p. 106. Deû rîs delvorñtog!

(Others) “ will think as we think, if the same reasons are given to them, and if those reasons influence them as they influence us."-p. 40.

That is, they will think as we think if they happen to see things in the same light! Accvórns indeed ! “ Be ready to do promptly what is best to be done."-p. 73.

As a maxim for action, none can clearly be more valuable than this. Of course, every philosopher of the greatest-happiness school knows at once what is best to be done.

After a long account of a street preacher (who, of course, is caricatured), and of the various opinions on him, some of which pronounced his conduct fanaticism, some hypocrisy, some superstition, some piety, we have this truly profound reflexion-

* The simple truth being only that he was preaching in the street; all the rest was the addition of despotic opinions, sitting in judgment on his conduct."-p. 107.

An action, it seems, is an action, and not the words which describe it, whatever those words may be! Is it possible? How bave we lived in ignorance of great truths, “till Bowring rose, and all was light!"

Again, p. 108– “ All motives are the same in intention. No voluntary action is done from any other than from a desire to do it."

Prodigious! The clearness of Dr. Bowring's ideas will be manifest at once from finding that he thinks passion, anger, and indignation, the same thing. A boy (Dialogue 1) sees a carter beat a horse cruelly, and goes and abuses him violently, and in a state of great passion. His father says——" Has your passion been of any service to you ?—your anger was more violent than your reason. "But,” says another boy, very justly, “must one see all sorts of wicked and improper conduct and not be angry with it? I have often heard indignation called generous, and anger virtuous. Are they never so?” “Never, my son,” says the father. What a blessed instructor! Anger at wicked conduct is the same as a storm of passion, and equally unjustifiable ! No doubt, what is called a virtuous indignation requires very sharp looking after, and a generous anger ought to be kept under strict control. But Dr. Bowring tells us, that the only thing is, instead of being angry at a crime, to consider how you can prevent all the mischief which it causes. Consequently if the crime is wholly over, there is no occasion to trouble yourself, and whether a mother has killed her child, or sacrificed her own life to save it—whether Dr. Bowring's chief hero, (after Mr. Bentham,) Jayme, the robber, risqued his own life to rescue his mother, or risqued hers to save his own, it is all to be heard with the same wise calmness. Or, at all events, if virtue gives you pleasure, no vice, no oppression of the weak by the strong, of childhood, old age, or woman, by the strength of manhood-no wilful deceit towards a confiding heart, -nothing, in short, however base, mean, malignant, or hateful, is to call up an emotion of disapproving anger. You may gravely and very calmly demonstrate that the man who beats his aged mother miscalculates strangely. You may even, on the notion that such conduct, on the whole, rather lessens human happiness than increases it, think it necessary that the law should prevent him from pursuing this agreeable amusement; but as to any emotion of indignation at him, if he has done so every week for the last twelvemonth, that would be quite unworthy of an utilitarian philosopher.

If Dr. Bowring should see two or three draymen beating his little son, if he has one, he must begin gravely to demonstrate to them that the boy suffers more pain from the beating than they derive pleasure from beating him,

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