groined roofs and fretted windows give increased effect to both you hear, you enjoy, you feel-the music: but the soul holds no intercourse with God the while. He hears not from you-you hear not from him : and therefore it is not devotion. The feeling thus excited may be good, it may be serious and religious after a manner; but it is feeling, sensation, impression, at the best. We do not adore, we do not pray, we do not praise, while the mind is occupied with the manner of performance, and harmony of voices. Supposing there may be, here and there, an individual so peculiarly constituted that this is not exactly true, it is a rare exception. The public service of God is for the multitude: the singing should surely be such as all can most readily join in: and every worshipper should surely feel that unless he joins, he has no more participation in this part of the service, than he would have in the prayers if he refused to pray. All ought to sing to sing loud, for the assistance of others, if their powers be good to sing low that others be not annoyed, if the voice or ear be defective. God takes no count of either, but He does take count of the sullen soul that will not chaunt his praises—because the singing is too good or too bad for him to join in-because he does not, or because he does-like music. : : The subject, however, to which my thoughts were determined by hearing the above text, is not so much the influence of song upon the mind, as the influence of the mind upon the song: for if it be true, that "Out of the heart the mouth speaketh," it is a hundred fold more true, that out of the heart it sings-out of the deepest feelings of the heart, the truest tones of music will be heard, and by its bent determined. Why does the Jacobin sing his Marseillaise Hymn, but because he desires to renew the scenes of cruelty and disorder with which it is associated in his mind? Why does the mountaineer love his Ranz de Vache, but because he loves the home it brings to mind, its snowy mountains, and its pure bright waters ? We walked through the village on a summer night—a calm, cool, evening, towards the harvest home. We met the waggoner riding on his team, singing the song of the Cow-boy whistling o'er the lea.' We met groups of villagers returning from the fields: they sung of harvest homes and merry wakes, of cakes well-kneaded and of home brewed ale. We looked through the doors where the lonely woman sate: turning her weary wheel, or twirling the monotonous bobbins of her pillows. Her song was of the stormy, ruthless deep of mast-high_slumbers and of watery graves. Why did she sing of these: she had never so much as seen them? Because her husband or lover was away, and her thoughts were not on her pillow or her wheel. We passed the canteen, where soldiers ate their supper-the sign of the Nelson, where the sailors gossipped-the alehouse where brutish drunkards roared their mirth—and heard, or might have heard what we expected. Suppose our evening walk had been elsewhere: our hearing where it was not our observation where it could not be in the family circle, the secluded gardens, or the lonely chambers of the more refined: wherever any were singing to please themselves. Would the result not have been the same? Would the song not have taken its key-notes from within-the tone of the heart's mirth, its griefs, or its desires? We know it would. Let us bear it well in mind. The Christian's great difficulty is to know himself: his great duty is to examine his own heart. Any thing that will give us help in this, give us encouragement, or give us warning, is of essential value in a godly course. What song may I sing? Is there any harm in this? Ought I not to sing that? Nay-not so fast-what songs do you like to sing? It is a question of infinitely greater moment to yourself, whoever you be that ask it. "Out of the heart of man proceed"-we need not give the list—it is very comprehensive: Mark vii. 21, 22. Be it the words of the song, or the associations of the tune, that gives expression to any thing named in this text, the heart that likes to sing it, likes to feel it : it is vain to equivocate—it must be so. The text says, “Is any merry, let him sing Psalms". -singing then is intended to be an occasion of mirthfulness-of hilarity-enjoyment: the use of singing is to express this, to communicate it to others, or produce it in our own minds. Most eminently is it adapted to this end: to induce cheerfulness in the sad heart and give vent to it in the light heart. But psalm-singing is so dull-so grave-so gloomy, so inappropriate to times of festivity and relaxation.' Then if it is, I have no more to say. God would not have us saddened in our mirth, and the apostle must be mistaken. I fear that those who think so are right, as regards themselves—they think it, because they feel it. It is only on the Sunday, perhaps, that singing psalms befits their state of mind: I am afraid it does not make them merry then: however it may help to pass the time away. But should it be so? It cannot be so always. We are not wanting of information on this point. In heaven all is mirth, and joy, and gladness: and we know what they sing about in heaven. Some have heard angel's songs: we all have read them; and many an inspired and a heaven-taught song beside, which kings and prophets were well pleased to sing. Oh! where is gladness such as saints on earth have found, in words that Moses and the Psalmist sung-in joy and grief-out of a heavy or a joyous heart, but always designed to lighten it? In the Bible there are songs of war, of victory and triumph, of holy courage and of timid trust of nature's beauties and her starlight skies: of perilous venture and of home's calm pleasures: the hearts' outpourings of all social interest and love; the heart's deep secrecy of hidden feelings. What can song, what can poetry, or music utter more, than is comprehended in the Bible's holy strains? All meant to ease the heart and cheer and gladden it. It is very strange that they should make us dull. There is no mention, even figuratively, of singing, but as a contrast to misery and an emblem of delight. Read first the Song of Moses at the Red Sea. (Exod. xv. 1-19.) Was ever war song like to that? So glorious-so triumphant? Does it reach no heart's string, wake no chord in us? "The Lord is a man of war,' " and we are baptized to be "his faithful soldiers to our life's end." There is many a Red Sea on our way, and many a foe pursuing: Miriam and the women when they heard the song, took timbrels and danced for joy. Read Moses' other song-in sight of Canaan, on the banks of Jordan. Deut. xxxii. How it " drops as the rain-distils as the dew, as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as showers upon the grass." Where is there such heart-touching pathos-such tender remonstances of slighted love: such forced unwilling anger : persuasive threatenings and repenting wrath? Or where such imagery of heaven-blessed abundance?" Honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock." One thing is very remarkable of this song: The Lord commanded Moses to teach it to the people, that when evils and troubles befel them for their sins, this song should testify against them as a witness for himself: against their unfaithfulness, in witness of his truth; but it was not intended even then to make them sad-" Rejoice, O ye nations with his people." Oh! is it not indeed a joyous song? for days of penitence and self-reproach-of mourned unfaithfulness and remembered sins; as precious to our faith, as gracious to our penitence, and forgiving to our tears as ever it was to theirs?" The Lord will be merciful unto his land, and to his people." We cannot dwell upon the Song of Deborah and Barak-of David, when the Lord delivered him out of the hand of all his enemies-of Isaiah, when he prepared for " that day" which is to come. It would be well for us to study them all, that we may learn what they sung of, when their hearts were merry. There is one song-THE SONG-which we all must learn, if ever we are to share the harmony of heaven: and which cannot be learned, it appears, where it is sung: a new song, which no man can learn, but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth." 66 66 66 It may be that angels have no need to learn it, they sung it first :when the Son of man was born. Or perhaps theirs is only the chorus of the song-Cherubim and Seraphim, Angel and Archangel, pealing one loud Amen, with the voices of the Redeemed of earth. If this celestial, everlasting music should be of the kind too gloomy for light hearts, it would be a stranger thing than all the rest. So much in unison is it, the prophet calls it, a voice :" though as of many waters,” as of many thunders," -"the harping of many harpers:" and yet one voice. There are no silent ones there; hearts inaccessible to holy mirth, and unfit, or indisposed for such high themes, and apt to grow weary of their too frequent repetition. It may be said we are not yet in heaven, nor meet for it yet, nor prepared in heart and voice to join its choirs. That is too true; but our business here is to prepare -to be made meet-to learn with heart and voice what if it be not learned here, can never be learned at all: and if it be not liked here, will never be liked at all: if it suit not the merry-hearted now, that heart's mirth can be at best no preparation for the joys of heaven. It may be asked if we would prohibit every thing but sacred song ? We would not prohibit anything but we would that every heart were tuned aright, in present unison with the joys of heaven: and that those which are not should discover the fact, and be aware of what is wanting in them. Men are not taken to heaven against their will, to be made happy in their own despite; in opposition to all their tastes and feelings and delights, while they live upon the earth. Our meetness for heaven is a heavenly mind,—a mind that loves what it will love in heavenchooses what it will choose there-enjoys what it will enjoy there-as far as in this perishing world it may be permitted: and if there is something, bearing the character of a pleasure, a gratification, a festivity, which is not only permitted but commanded here, after the manner that it is enjoyed in heaven; my desire in all that I have said is only to produce conviction, consideration, in those that feel they have no pleasure in it it makes them dull: they prefer something which they know assuredly will not be enjoyed in heaven. Review of Books. AUTHENTICATED REPORT OF THE DISCUSSION which took place between the REV. JOHN VENN and the REV. JAMES WATERWORTH, in St. Peter's school-room, HEREFORD, on the 12th, 13th, 14th, and 15th of February, 1844. 8vo. pp. iv. & 212. Hereford: Anthony. London: Seeleys. 1844. PERHAPS Some of our readers have no great relish for public discussions on topics of religious controversy; and we cordially sympathise with them in their objections. To persons of thought and reflection, who wish to see every subject fairly investigated, step by step, there can be little satisfaction in hearing an argument sustained for a limited time, assailed for an equal time, and then alternately supported and attacked, with all that want of order and precision which must attend this desultory kind of polemic warfare. Yet occasions may doubtless arise, when such discussion becomes necessary, and the effect subservient to the cause of truth. And therefore, with whatever reluctance we may take up a controversial volume of the kind now before us, we feel it our duty to do so occasionally; taking care to select such as, in our judgment, have the best claim on the serious attention of the public. The Hereford discussion has excited in our own minds, a deeper interest than most of those which we have had the opportunity of reading. It has something peculiar both in the circumstances which called it forth, and in the manner in which it was conducted; although, perhaps, the matter of it may not have differed materially from that of former controversies on the same subject. With regard to the circumstances in which it originated, we may observe, that the vigilant and excellent Pastor of St. Peter's, Hereford, having found that two of his young and hopeful hearers, and, we believe, communicants, had been tampered with by the Popish Priest, Mr. Waterworth of Hereford, resolved to use every effort to prevent his sheep from thus leaving their pastures, and becoming entangled in the thorns and briars of Romish tyranny and superstition. His exertions in the way of private intercourse not proving successful, he determined on the bolder measure, of challenging the Romish Priest to a public discussion on the points of difference between the two churches. Mr. Waterworth shrunk from the contest, but the gauntlet was taken up by his brother, a practised controversialist, and Popish Priest of Newark. Mr. Venn might fairly have refused to meet this substitute for the antagonist by whom his flock had been invaded. But regardless of the disadvantages to which he knew he should be exposed, in contending with an unscrupulous, skilful, and learned stranger, who was a mere interloper in the controversy; and confident that he held the truth of God, and that the God of truth would be with him, he took like David, his sling and stones, and in the Saviour's name and strength, went forth to the unequal conflict with the very Goliath of Romanism. Still further, the Romish champion chose to dictate the precise line which the controversy should take; thus selecting beforehand the 1844. 2 Y ground on which the battle was to be fought—an advantage of which no controversialist can doubt the value. Thus armed with greater learning than his more humble opponent claimed for himself, and with more impudence than a good cause would tolerate, or even a bad one could use without injury to itself; this bold champion stepped into the field, anticipating an easy victory, but, according to our judgment, sustaining a most humiliating defeat. From this glance at the circumstances in which the contest originated, we may turn the attention of our readers, for a moment, to the spirit of the conflicting parties. Let it not be hastily inferred, that Mr. Waterworth is clothed in impenetrable mail, because he says so. That he has read much on the Romish controversy we have no doubt. It has been the business of his life. But he is a one-sided student after all. Either he did not know many things which he ought to have known, or he suppressed, mutilated and mis-stated what he knew. We leave him to choose on which of the two horns of this dilemma he would rather be impaled. Both of them it is impossible he should escape. Nor let it be imagined that Mr. Venn, because he modestly yielded the palm of erudition to his confident antagonist, was quite incompetent to the right management of the controversy, or destitute of the learning necessary to bring it to a successful issue. A patient examination of the whole discussion, will inspire the attentive reader, we have no doubt, with increased confidence in the goodness of the cause which, with Christian simplicity of mind, and with a well-cultivated understanding, Mr. Venn has undertaken to defend, against the wiles, the assumptions, the bold assertions, and the plausible special pleadings of his opponent. The opening speech of Mr. Venn, is a calm and dispassionate adduction of proof that the church of Rome sanctions falsehood in principle and practice.' His first reference is to the third Lateran Council, held in the year 1179; in which the sacred obligation of oaths is set aside whenever they interfere with the supposed welfare of the church; 'Those are not to be called oaths, but rather perjuries, which are contrary to the good of the Church and the appointment of the holy fathers.' He then quotes more at large from the fourth Lateran Council held in the year 1215; in which the doctrine of transubstantiation is expressly maintained, and in which all heretics are excommunicated and anathematized. Such persons are after trial and condemnation by ecclesiastics to be delivered to the secular power to be punished in a fitting manner.’ Even suspected persons are 'to be smitten with the sword of anathema;' and if any temporal lord shall neglect to cleanse his country of this heretical filth,' he shall be bound with the chain of excommunication.' Should this not succeed, the Sovereign Pontiff is to be informed, in order that he' may declare his vassals to be absolved from their fidelity to him, and may expose his lands to be occupied by the Catholics.' 6 The next Council referred to, is the celebrated Council of Constance, famous, or rather infamous, for the deliberate murder of John Huss, and for the compulsion of the Emperor Sigismond to violate his solemn pledge. Sufficient evidence is here given, that the church of Rome sanctions falsehood in principle. The remaining part of the speech is occupied |