unjust judgment which Dr. Bowring pronounces in the very act of imparting correct notions of justice. The case put after Hume is the following:-A miner possesses an ingot of silver; it comes into the possession of a silversmith; he doubles its value by making it into a cup. To which of the two ought it to belong? Common sense says to neither, it is the property of both. But what says philosophy? The matter is discussed by way of dialogue. Arthur opines they should sell the cup and divide the proceeds. This is set aside by declaring the question to be that one only must have the cup. Edith adds her vote in favour of the miner, because he produced the metal. George would give it to the silversmith, because of the value he gave to what was valueless. Mr. Howard, alias Dr. Bowring, after an introduction, meaning 'listen to me, Sir Oracle,' gives it to the silversmith. And now comes the reason, and with it a pretty exemplification of the new-light philosophy. Justice, as far as it is useful, is an instrument of happiness; all its value consists in this. It is to prevent unhappiness that we seek to prevent injustice. Now, which of the two would suffer least pain by being deprived of the cup? I think it would be the miner. And which would experience most pleasure in having the cup awarded to him? In my judgment, it would be the silversmith; and if it be so, the question is solved!' So saith the Utilitarian Daniel. Let us see.

Now the case put is in itself absurd, and not therefore to be entertained. In no family, in no court of justice, would it be entertained. If men will put absurd cases, they can expect only absurd conclusions. A and B join to build a house. Which of the two is to have it? The first folly is in mooting such a point, and when mooted, there may well be a second like unto it' in the answer. This is not morality, nor even casuistry, it is sheer trifling. It is supposing impossible, and consequently useless cases; and if Utilitarian doctrine has anything to do with utility, cases which are disapproved by the fundamental principle of Benthamism. For ourselves, we confess, we would prevent our children from discussing such questions, by finding them a better occupation of their time. It needed not a new work to propound these fatuities, since musty instances enough are found in the schoolman's ass, starved to death by being placed in the equilibrio of fixity, between two equally attractive stacks of hay; and the yet unresolved question of the exact number of spirits that can dance together on the point of a needle-and similar trumperies without end.

Now for the grounds of the judgment. A will be the more happy than B in possessing D; therefore, says justice, let A have D. On this plan there ought to be a reconstitution of the whole property of society, commencing with a writ, issuing, we

suppose, from Chancery, de felicitate capienda-in plain mother English, to learn who would enjoy good things most. A pretty application, truly, of the greatest happiness principle. The capacity for happiness determines the right of property. The greatest swallow is to have the greatest portion. You have a piece of gold, but you are only a miner, and will suffer but a little, therefore hand it over to your neighbour the silversmith, to whom it will be a great prize.' Pauper has a cottage, but also a scolding wife, and at the best enjoys his home but meagerly. Therefore he is to quit in favour of Dives, who possesses half a county and a happy family, yet wants Pauper's cottage to round his estate. Dr. Bowring's seat in Parliament makes his competitor wretched, and affords but small happiness to a philosopher, whose mind is fixed on less ethereal pleasures. Let Dr. Bowring, therefore, in justice, accept the Chiltern Hundreds, and make his rival happy. A thousand pounds to the wealthy man is but as a drop in the stream of his felicity. It will make a peasant into a prince for happiness. He is bound, consequently, by justice, not benevolence, to give to the poor as many thousands as may bring his happiness to an exact level with each of their's. We wonder Dr. Bowring acts so inconsistently as to sleep on a feather bed (or on a mattrass) every night. What a luxury would it be to many a wanderer from the Emerald Isle! Why does not the Doctor turn out, that Pat may turn in?

We suppose there are few who would condemn more vehemently than the Utilitarians, the practices which once prevailed among mistaken Christians, known under the name of pious frauds. Nor shall any philosopher surpass us in reprobating them. We are therefore both surprised and grieved, that anything, having even the appearance of such an evil, should be found issuing from a Benthamite. Yet what shall we say of the following ?

The superstitions that teach humanity and kindness are the least pernicious of all; and, in ignorant nations, have often a most useful influence. I should not wonder if some of them had been invented by benevolent persons, who were unable to discover any means of instruction so efficacious.'-p. 72, vol 2.

well, superstition was therefore a fiction is Good ensues, there

So, then, because superstition taught right. Nay, worse. A fiction is useful right. The very essence of a pious fraud. fore evil may be done. Kindness is taught, no matter how. We had heard before that the principle of utility was often narrow enough in the range of its ken; but we were not prepared for so limited a view as this.

Another case. A widow has lost her husband, and dreams he is still alive. George-one of the interlocutors, thinks it

would be well to let her know she is deceiving herself with idle dreams.' I know not why,' said Mr. Howard, 'those dreams are hope and happiness to her; and they do no harm to any one else.' So, then, if a falsehood conduces to happiness it is to be allowed; and by happiness, let it be observed, must be meant immediate happiness, because it is easy to conceive, that the widow's awakening to a real sense of her loss, and of the deception she had practised on herself, would induce sudden insanity. A pure and simple-minded girl believes in the honour of a villain, and is happy. She is not to be undeceived. These dreams do no harm to any one else.' Who knows that? Is there no reliance on principles as principles? No general conclusions in favour of truth to be applied in each particular case, without a nice weighing of the effects? Must we be always debating the degrees of good on the side of truth or falsehood, and giving the one or the other the preference, according as the greatest happiness' may appear to be on this or on that? Is truth not to be loved and embraced for its own sake? Poor and stunted will be the character that springs from such grovelling measures of good. We love not this huckstering morality. By its pounds, shillings and pence calculations no nobility of character can be produced. Fiat Justitia ruat cælum. Stick to truth, and take the result. Often have the long-sighted calculators been ensnared in their own meshes. Nobody sees it, nobody will suffer by it, and I may therefore follow the impulses of my nature, prompting me to this enjoyment?' Wretched mistake. How much better a guide is It is wrong, and therefore, though pleasant, to be shunned.' And such is our belief of the justice of a superintending Providence of its love of truth-of all its measures being framed to reward the right, that, we feel assured, it can never be said, as Doctor Bowring intimates, that delusions do no harm to ane one else. They must do harm, because they are delusions. You may not see the harm-but if God loves and honours truth, evil will ensue. And often evil has, after a while, been found to ensue in cases quite as free from the appearance of coming ill as that supposed in the Minor Morals.' An instance occurs in Ross's account of his expedition to the Arctic Regions:

6

One of them (the Esquimaux) having attended Commander Ross to the observatory, and having asked what the guns said, was informed that they were naming the thieves who had taken our property from the ship, on which there was a general convocation held at the village, and it was agreed to return every thing.' The natives brought us a skin and a seal, and I was again teazed by one to show him where the seals might be found. To get rid of him, I pointed to a place at hazard, and in the event acquired the reputation of a conjuror, inasmuch as they afterwards caught three. One of the seals was very gratefully brought me as an acknowledgment.'

So far so good. Utilitarian morality was satisfied. The falsehood was profitable, and where was the harm? Who could imagine that any thing but what was satisfactory could result? Surely, the higher the natives thought of the Europeans, the more power would the Europeans possess. It turned out just the reverse. Folly was justified in her children. A departure from the narrow line of truth, a neglect of the observance of truth for truth's sake, led to an adventure which might have proved fatal to all parties. When proceeding on a journey to survey a tract of country, Commander Ross is unexpectedly met by the natives in hostile array :—

'The noise of our dogs gave them notice of our arrival. Immediately one of them rushed out of a hut, brandishing the large knife used in attacking bears, while the tears were streaming down his furrowed face, which was turning wildly round in search of the objects of his animosity. In an instant he lifted his arm to throw his weapon at myself and the surgeon. The sun dazzling him, caused him to suspend his arm for an instant, when one of his sex laid hold of his uplifted hand, and gave us a moment's time for reflection. The rest of the party seemed to be standing in readiness to second any attempt, which he might make on us. After a short pause, they immediately began to close in, brandishing their knives in defiance.' The result was at length an interview with an old woman; from her we soon learned the cause of all this hubbub, which, absurd as it was, might have had a fatal termination. One of Pow-weet Yah's adopted sons, a fine boy of seven or eight years of age, whom we knew, had been killed on the preceding night, by the falling of a stone on his head. This they had ascribed to our agency, through the supernatural powers we were believed to possess."

We will not part in words,' from Dr. Bowring. He has a noble soul, and nobly has he poured forth its feelings in these volumes. True, they have faults, but the faults bear no comparison with their merits. And if we have dwelt disproportionately on their defects, it is because we feel that the volumes ought to go and will go into the homes and the hearts of many a family, and consequently demand such rectifications as may leave their influence all pure gold.

It would be easy, in shaking hands with the writer, to specify many excellencies. It would be difficult to specify them all. One, as a sample, must suffice. With the chapter on Commerce we were a good deal struck, as containing no ordinary degree of truth, interest, and beauty, on a topic in connexion with which the most baneful notions have prevailed. Thus speaks Cicero, in his work on Moral Philosophy.* ، Sordidi etiam putandi qui mercantur a mercatoribus, quod statim vendunt ; nihil enim proficiunt nisi admodum mentiantur; nec vero quicquam est turpius vanitate. * * Mercatura antem, si tenuis est, sordida

* De Officiis, Lib. I. 42.

putanda est: sin magna et copiosa, multa undique apportans, multisque sine vanitate impertiens, non est admodum vituperanda.' A passage which, in brief, says that retail dealers are contemptible, because their gain is made by lying, and wholesale dealers to be barely tolerated, and that provided they do not lie. us now hear Dr. Bowring, and glad should we be that the comment should be read on Cicero, in certain halls of learning, where we fear the spirit of the heathen philosopher is still more influential than that of Jesus Christ:

Let

Every one who makes an exchange, if he acts wisely, obtains something of greater value than that which he gives; and this is the case with both parties-each supplies some want or some desire of the other. Thus the two virtues of prudence and benevolence are exercised— prudence, inasmuch as an addition is made to your own enjoyment-benevolence, inasmuch as an addition is made to the enjoyment of others. And the infinite variety of production with which the world is covered -the boundless differences of climate and soil, and national habits and education, gives to every part of the earth some means of exchange with others, the exchange being a mutual benefit. Some lands have their riches on the surface, others buried deep below; in some agriculture is the great source of wealth-in others manufactures; in some mines-in others navigation. Out of their peculiar facilities, commercial relations grow. They are infinitely happier, infinitely wealthier, by their intercourse, than they could possibly be by being insulated and separated. The dependence of nations upon one another affords the true security for peace and prosperity. It is the destiny of commerce to undo what hatred and war have done. Out of the very selfishness of man it will extract benevolence. It will make nationality itself subservient to philanthropy. I know no profession more honourable than that of the instructed merchant; his history is the history of contributions to human pleasures. He brings nations into contact which are placed by nature far apart. He brings to the frozen north the productions of the burning tropics, and makes the whole world contribute to the daily happiness of every home. He has given to the meanest, enjoyments formerly denied to the mightiest.'-p. 95-6, vol. 2.

RECENT EPISCOPALIAN PAMPHLETS.

A Sermon, by the Rev. JOHN COURTNEY, M. A., containing the only Apology which can be offered for Young Men in our Universities being called upon to sign the Thirtynine Articles. Ridgway.

An Address to the Archbishops and Bishops of the Church of England, on the Internal Discipline of the Church. By A Low CHURCHMAN. Longman, Rees and Co.

A Charge, delivered at the Visitation in July, 1835, by RICHARD WHATELY, D. D., Archbishop of Dublin. Fellowes.

Mr. Courtney's only Apology' is, in fact, a ground of refusal. You must sign the thirty-nine articles,' he says, because you cannot understand them. It is no hardship to you. No one can understand them, therefore sign.' If the wisdom of this does not excite the reader's admiration, it is impossible to deny