899 On the Impropriety of Interring in Vaults. THE solemn facts of man's mutability, incarceration, and decay, are so humiliating to the pride of our degraded nature, that we do not reflect upon them so frequently and sufficiently as we ought, consonant with that moral feeling which prompts us to weigh well what we are; and to reflect, (as if to shew us, by a mute allegory, our nothingness,) that the Almighty has doomed our bodies to be the banquet of the meanest reptile; and that the kingly forehead, on which rested the costly diadem of dominion, must be sullied by the loathsome worm, as well as the brow of the peasant; and that whether we are enshrouded in sumptuous velvet and costly silk, or immured in more humble materials, it avails us nothing in striving to evade the universal doom of debasing corruptibility. I was seriously impressed, the other day, with the folly and littleness of man, in eking out for his body, "when parted from his soul," a dwelling superior to what nature ever assigned him. How arrogant is that feeling which seeks, as it were, to triumph over corruption, after death has conquered; and how contradictory to the mandate of our Creator, who declared unto our primeval father, that he should return unto that dust "from whence he was taken." These convictions were inspired by an accidental visit I made to the interior of an ancient church in London, where the vaults for interment were undergoing repairs, preparatory to the reception of some high and deceased personage. Perceiving that no restraint was exhibited to prevent visitors from seeing their awful interior, I descended. There is something so appalling in approaching "the presence of the dead," that I shall not detail the minutiæ of the fetid dwelling; for I am convinced that we ought not to lift the curtain that veils the secrets of the grave. Yet could the vanity of man but picture to himself occasionally the horrors of such Perhaps, Mr. Editor, some of your intelligent correspondents would not object to throw a new light on this hitherto unargued subject; and afford me, through the medium of your valuable columns, the pleasure of having my own ratified; or the alternative of its renunciation.-G. Y. H. 900 a scene, how would it chide his aspirations! Around me were rotting the bodies of hundreds of my fellow-creatures—some who had left behind them a lasting fame; who had been conspicuous for ecclesiastical dignity, or forensic talent-eminent for virtue and piety, or notorious for dissipa. tion and excess; and whose remains called forth recapitulations of their greatness and goodness, or their weakness and folly. "How flat, and dull, and moveless, thought I, would be the wit of Rabelais, or the satire of Voltaire, in this dreary charnel house!" The "jests and jibes" of the philosopher of Ferney, would have been a most fantastic anomaly in the gloom of that darkened cemetery. There were "the bright and sunny locks," that once clustered over the bloom of beauty, now mocking the fleshless skull: the teeth that decorated the smiling mouth, and gave harmonious music to the tongue, destitute of their rosy lips: and the graceful body, that was wont to be attired with such studious care, emitting the pestilent odour of the grave-decomposed amidst the cushioned silk that mocked its inglorious decay. How grossly inconsistent with these startling convictions of our humbling mortality is the haughtiness with which we erect ourselves a tomb amongst the living; as if the worm of humanity could not find us amidst the tinsel of splendid interment; —or decay be our portion when enveloped in the gilded and garnished pomp of earth's richest material. But, as these reflections are irrelevant to the principal arguments and deductions I intend to adduce on the Impropriety of interring in Vaults, I would observe, that there is something so opposed to human feeling, on treading the gloomy depository of "skulls and coffins, epitaphs, and worms," that our powers of reflection are paralyzed by the contemplation of such a scene: excited horror usurps the place of awakened concern; and natural terror destroys that moral alarm which the thoughts of death should always awaken. I cannot but believe, that unerring Deity ordained our clay to be committed to the keeping of that earth of which it is a part; and that it is decidedly counter to his holy word to preserve the putrid remains of our "sinful bodies" above the kindred dust designed to absorb its offensive relics. How much more congenial to the ideas of the moralist and the Christian, is the grassgrown and hallowed churchyard, solemnized by the natural adornments of vegetation, and graced by monumental records-testi. monies of the living virtues and dying hopes of those who have departed : “Their names, their years, spelt by the unletter'd muse, The place of fame and elegy supply; And many a holy text around she strews, Which teach the rustic moralist to die." Another, and not a minor argument, is deducible from the fact, that many persons have caught the seeds of contagion from the sudden opening of plague - tainted vaults, and have died martyrs to the dead! How absurd, then, and how censurable is that consciousness of superior birth, which entails such a mode of burial upon its possessor-and leads to the destruction of the living by the dead. Oh! human nature! it is a proof of thy paltry weakness, that mankind, worshipping wealth on the verge of that "narrow house" which must receive us all, enwrap the cold unconscious body in the very mockery of security; and allow it to fester amidst the moving mass of humanity! May no such interment be mine! rather let me mingle with that purifying and absorbing earth from which I came; for I abhor the vaulted niche, the triple coffin, the embroidered shroud, and the farcical concomitants of stately entomb They To the mind possessed of a refined taste, and which delights in the exercise of its reflective powers, the works of nature, as they are generally termed, have ever been pregnant with the most satisfying and deĺectable sources of investigation. have yielded, and still continue to yield, innumerable objects for the natural philosopher to examine, as well as for the unlettered to admire; and, replete with the most positive beauties, and communicative of the most agreeable sensations, they will never 'cease to engage the attention, till all that is beautiful and sublime in nature, loses the power of captivating, and the mind becomes incapable of receiving delight. Wherever we turn our eye, some object of admiration presents itself-into whatever recess we penetrate, our attention is arrested by the charms of some natural curiosity; and the more extensively we examine, and the deeper we search, the richer will be the conquest we attain. A more delicious feast cannot be presented to the curious and contemplative mind, than to roam amidst all the luxuriances of nature, and view her sporting in a thousand blooming and fascinating charms, or sublimely moving amidst the stupendous and wonderful works of the universe. Above and around us, in the illimitable regions of space, roll the millions of orbs, which afford to us the blessing of lightwhich, it is presumed, bear a strong analogy to our own globe-these display the sublimer glories of nature. Scattered over the diversified surface of the earth, for various useful and important purposes, the innumerable tribes of animal and vegetable nature exhibit amazing skill and contrivance the depths of the ocean, the womb of the earth, and the regions of the air, all unite to set forth the glorious and inimi. table perfections of the works of nature, while all conspire, by the regular and harmonious performance of their respective functions, however more or less operative, to send up a grateful song of praise to their wise and benevolent Author. That the works of art assume to themselves the extensive and well-earned meed of approbation and admiration, will not be denied; that they may well be held up to the observation of the wise and good; and that they should be generally patronized as conducive to the comfort and pleasure of life, will be conceded without hesitation. But that they fall infinitely short of the nice and inimitable perfection, the well-regulated utility, and the positive beauty which characterize those of nature, is a fact which few can venture to disclaim, without sacrificing truth and judgment at the shrine of ignorance and impiety. No very deep insight into nature, or very extensive experience in art and science, is requisite to determine so obvious, though interesting a point. The superiority of the works of nature may be argued-first, from their originality. Here all is fully, legitimately, the sole production of an allwise Author: here all bears internal evidence of originality-for as they were called into being from nothing, they could not be copied from any thing antecedently existing, indeed, to suppose that they were imitated from any models, except such as were in the mind, so to speak, of the great Eternal, is but entertaining very questionable and irreverent notions of his Omniscience. But with regard to 903 Superiority of Works of Nature over those of Art. the works of art, they are only copies from the masterpieces of nature, and few will be bold enough to deny, that many of the most splendid and elaborate works of art, become so, simply from their unequalled models. Scarcely a performance is executed by man, which does not glory in being a transcript from nature-not an invention is made, without being analagous to some principle or operations of nature, whether more or less secret. It is truly to the hidden sources of nature, that men look for the most brilliant trophies of their talent and research-it is with delight they hail any appearance of nature, upon which they may display or exert their genius; and with no less ardour than pleasure, do they avail themselves of whatever may present itself to notice. Truly, "the works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein." The works of nature are superior to those of art,—secondly; in their workmanship and perfection. Examine any of the former with the most scrutinizing eye, and you will find it to be framed with the nicest skill and proportion-every part exactly corresponds and harmonizes with one another all perform the respective parts assigned them by eternal Wisdom, without the least deviations; and thereby the great ends of nature, are regularly and effectually accomplished. There is not a single object in nature, that may not court the strictest investigation as it regards its perfection; and though many objects of course far exceed others in wonder and beauty, yet each in itself lays open an interesting view of consummate skill-a pleasing exhibition of divine goodness. The tints which adorn the petals of a flowers, and the delicate wings and body of an insect, may well bear the test of examination; and the finest and most delicate specimens of the pencil, in comparison of such, cannot but appear coarse and imperfect. The colour, the frame, the texture, of the multifarious diversities of colouring for the brute creation, and the nice adaptation thereof to their natures, are so equisite, as to outvie every attempt of art to rival them, even the beautiful verdure which clothes our fields and meadows, in its several varieties, is so replete with divine skill, that it has been frequently said, single blade of grass contains more than will ever be discovered by the most patient and minute investigator." Nature, while she sports in her wildest vagaries, is never inconsistent. All her works, though surprisingly diverse, are yet not less regufar; and while beautiful to the eye, a | | | | | 904 they will bear no less extraordinary investigation. The modern discovery of the microscope has unfolded the hidden beauties of nature in a manner never before known. Unexpected wonders have been by this laid before our eyes. Specimens of nature have been brought to light, which were before unknown, and unthought of; and not only so, but we have been enabled to become better acquainted with whatever was before known. Subject, then, the most delightful productions of nature to microscopic observation, and, notwithstanding the magnitude to which it is thereby increased, its finest parts will appear not less blunt or less elegant; but let any of the works of art, however fine in their workmanship, be put to a similar test, and they will lose all the beauty and skill with which, to the naked eye, they seemed invested, and appear unsightly, and unworthy of attention. Among the many mechanical inventions of men, none, however perfect and regular, can ever equal the extensive and admirable mechanism which constitutes the frame of man. Here, amidst the vast diversity of bones, and muscles, sinews, veins, and other apparatus of this machine, all is in the most positive and valuable harmony, each part being adapted to the other, and in systematic and perfect operation. Thirdly; in their variety, extent, and utility, the works of nature excel those of art. It is really astonishing, to behold the vast diversity which prevails in the grand system of animal and vegetable nature, both in the number, peculiarities, and properties of its subjects. It is calculated, that there are at present known between four and five hundred species of land animals, six hundred of birds, of fish five thousand, and of insects it may safely be concluded nearly two hundred thousand. Exclusive of these, there are doubtless a vast number of the brute creation, which are un, known to man. Of plants, it is not improbable, that their number would almost defy the powers of calculation. Every thing in nature partakes of this amazing variety; and to direct our attention to the heavens alone, would be a decisive proof, that her works are indeed incomparable and multitu dinous. The works of man, diverse as they may be, cannot, in any degree, equal those of nature. It is recorded of a certain ancient artist, that he carved figures of animals in ivory with the most exquisite skill, and of which an astonishing number might be contained in a very contracted space-but what shall we say, when not less than a million of animalculæ may be held on the point of a needle, and to which a spoonful of water is, as it were, an unbounded ocean-what shall we say, when an incalculable number of insects, all perfectly and delightfully formed, invisible to the naked eye, roam and sport over the leaves of plants and trees, as in a spacious meadow! surely these display skill more than human; wisdom of more than earthly mould. But what constitutes, in no small degree, the superexcellence of the works of the great framer of all things, is, their general utility. The most beautiful productions of art are mostly those which are only calculated to please and captivate-to which the epithet of elegant may be appended, rather than that of useful whereas in the system of nature there is not a plant or animal, or any inanimate substance, but is of some service in the great plan, and performs some function devolving upon it, however more or less indirectly. One is adapted to the support and nourishment of the other:this, tends to the benefit of man in a more positive degree; that, in a less ostensible, but not less certain manner. The works of nature claim to themselves Nature, in many of her operations-if at any time she appears to advance in age, may be said to renew her youth-she frequently seems to undergo, in her own system, a renovation, which gives a perpetuity to all her works; while the beautiful and costly works of man, notwithstanding the props and patchings they sometimes receive, eventually yield to time, whose breath completely scatters and destroys them. The comparison might be carried further than in the four preceding particulars; but certainly where originality in design, beauty and perfection in execution, variety, and utility, and durability, are combined in so eminent a degree, they must carry with them irrefragable proofs of a superior hand, and an infinitely larger portion of wisdom. Nature has ever stood unrivalled-she must ever remain so. Her treasures have never been exhausted, and it is certain they never will. She pours forth her beauties and luxuriances with an unsparing and lavish hand, in every possible variety, to engage the heart, to charm the ear, and to delight the eye. She will ever be sought after by the curious mind, and she will never disappoint the true admirer. Art, exalted and adorned as she certainly is, will ever look up to nature as her great original-as the beautifier of all her productions as the charm of all her fascinations the source of all her excellence. Art, when uncorrupted, will be content to follow nature, will delight to acknowledge her superiority. unquestionable pre-eminence, fourthly, in their durability. Turn once more to the orbs of heaven, and see with what uniform regularity they have performed their revolutions, from the period when they were called into existence by the Divine fiat-and still perform them, without the least diminution of efficacy, or irregularity. Very many of the other works of nature have remained It is the part of knowledge, in all her with equal perfection, from the moment of undertakings, especially in those connected their creation to the present. And even all with the works of nature, or, in other words, the animal and vegetable tribes, notwith- the works of God, to lead the mind to some standing they decay and die at stated and point at which to obtain information and regular periods, may be said to have en- instruction; and from certain truths, to addured from the beginning; since they have duce correct, as well as useful conclusions. been, and still are, continually reproduced It may therefore be supposed, that on a in succession; and thus, one continued subject like the present, some particulars series exists, and the animal world is ever may be specified, which may tend to imreplenished. But it is too true, that muta-provement; and surely a consideration of bility and corruptibility are inseparable from the works of man; they, like himself, are frail; and a few fleeting years are sufficient to mar their beauty, and spoil their excellence. The most ancient relics of art we possess, are frequently so mutilated and defaced by the consuming hand of time, as to become valuable, not for the skill exhibited in their workmanship, but solely on account of their antiquity. Nature's works, however, are always blooming, are always beautiful in themselves, and they will continue to bloom till that great and terrible day, when the heaven and earth shall pass away, and the universe melt with fervent heat. 118.-VOL. X. the excelling skill and wisdom evident in the works of the universe, ought to induce sentiments of adoration and reverence. The Almighty God is their Author; and whatever they may be termed by men, they are truly and specifically the works of God. Who can behold his stupendous operations in certain parts of the material universe, without awe and wonder; or his more gentle workings in others, without delight and love? And when we consider, that all is calculated to benefit us-that all may be conducive to our happiness if rightly viewed-feelings of heartfelt gratitude should obtain in us; we should endeavour to 3 L 907 Mr. Marsden's "Waning Crescent" defended. please the benevolent Being who has endeavoured, so to speak, to please us-who has so bountifully provided for us; and this we may effectually do, by yielding to his requisitions; which are both reasonable, and easy to be performed. 908 I grant, sir, that "judgment is God's strange work," yet he is obliged sometimes to resort to it, when long-suffering forbear, ance excites only the scorn and contempt of his adversaries. And, sir, that God who once commissioned the apostle Peter to visit with the punishment of death, two fraudulent hypocrites in his own church, assuredly has a right, if it so pleaseth him, to commission a Russian monarch, and a Russian army, to visit on the head of the Turk, the oceans of innocent Christian blood which that monster of cruelty hath shed for ages now gone by. And, sir, if the martyrs of Jesus, whose souls are now in paradise, are heard to "cry with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge, and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?" (Rev. vi. 9, 10.) must a minister of the WANING CRESCENT," Gospel on earth be accused of a breach of Oh man! "consider the wondrous works of God." "He hath made the earth by his power, he hath established the world by his wisdom; and hath stretched out the heavens at his discretion." All his works are glorious and beautiful; and when associated with a heart devoted to Him, will not fail of proving highly advantageous and delightful. Acknowledge, then, his superiority, and chuse this God to be thy God! J. S. B. Junr. Astley Rectory, Worcestershire. MR. MARSDEN'S ETC. DEFENDED FROM THE ATTACK OF "And I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war.-And out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations; and he shall rule them with a rod of iron: and he treadeth the wine-press of the fierceness and wrath of almighty God."-REV. xix. 11, 15. MR. EDITOR, SIR,-When I first read Mr. Marsden's beautiful lines on the expected, and I trust approaching fall of the Turkish empire, my heart caught the flame of pious zeal which burns in every syllable of that composition; and echoed the sentiments it expresses, as most purely evangelical, and perfectly congenial with the truth and justice of that God, who hath promised to make the enemies of His Son, the footstool of his universal empire. I am not, however, at all surprised, that in this age of mistaken liberality, such an advocate as F. H. should raise a feeble voice against the Omnipotent arm, which has undertaken to give the Heathen to Jesus for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession. Such men, sir, forget that one character of Jehovah is, that he is "a consuming fire" to the adversaries of his Son; and that part of the awful commission for the universal spread of the Gospel, runs in these words, in reference to its inveterate and incorrigible opposers-"Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel." A judgment first committed to the Son by the Father; (Palm ii. 9.) and subsequently transferred by the Son to the church of God, as the executor of his will, (Rev. ii. 26, 27.) and on the very spot where the crescent now waves its blood-stained flag. Christian charity, because he only says, “I have no sympathy for the Koran, and I regard the Moslem in no other light than an abomination that maketh desolate?" Does F. H. sympathize with that repository of error and blasphemy? Does he regard that accumulation of falsehood, and prolific source of human guilt and misery, as an innocent delusion, which must be protected from the insult of "Christian dogs?" If he does, I say, the more shame for him. Because the meek and lowly Jesus, who came down to earth on purpose to set a pattern of meekness and patience, to bear the scorn and insults of his enemies, and to suffer for sinners, would not permit his apostles to imitate the example of Elijah, in avenging his personal insults, does it follow, that now, when he is invested with Omnipotence, his church must be trampled under the feet of Turkish infidels, unaveng. ed; and that persecuting power left in the undisturbed exercise of its cruelties, until the day of judgment? Preposterous absurdity! And, sir, if Christ's kingdom is not originally "of this world," and if its consummation must take place in the heaven of heavens, can F. H. be ignorant, that notwithstanding this, the kingdoms of this world must and shall become the kingdoms of our God, and of his Christ? And how shall they become such? It is true, the Captain of our salvation is "the Prince of peace;" but peace will not be the first-fruits of his visitation to an hostile nation. Think not that Jesus came upon earth to proclaim peace with Paganism, with Judaism, or with Mohammedanism, "I tell you, nay, but a sword:" for with respect to these his adversaries, the oracles |