from it by a cylindrical ivory envelope. Care must be taken that the currents induced in the ends which join, be in the same direction, which is effected by winding the wires upon the two bobbins in contrary directions.

When the electro-magnet is turned, its two branches are magnetised under the influence of the magnet a alternately in contrary directions, and in each wire a current is induced which changes its direction every semi-revolution. To follow these currents in their progress, it is necessary to remember that the two ends of the wire which terminate at the ferule q give a current in the same direction, and it is the same with those which join on the axis. Now in front of the ferule q there is a second ferule o, formed of two equal pieces, isolated from one another, but one connected with q and the other with the axis. It follows from this, that during the revolution of the electro-magnet, each half of the ferule o represents a pole which changes its sign at each half revolution. From the two pieces o the current passes on to two strips of brass 6 and e, fastened to two copper plates r and n. By this arrangement, the current in each strip b and c is constantly in the same direction. In fact, the strip o, for example, touches the two pieces o successively; it is therefore successively in communication with the axis and with 4, and consequently with two ends of the wires and then with the two others. But the wires being wound in a contrary direction, when the

Fig. 461.

bobbin B' takes the place of B, the current of the ferule q, as well as that of the axis, changes its sign; consequently, the same takes place with each half of the ferule. o, and as the strip e now touches a different half from what it touched at first, it must be traversed by a current in the same direction. With the two strips b and c alone, the two contrary currents which proceed from the two pieces o could not unite; but this is accomplished by means of a third strip a and two appendages i, only one of which is visible in the figure. These two appendages are isolated from each other on an ivory cylinder, but are respectively connected with the pieces o. Every time the strip a touches one of these appendages, it is in communication with the strip b, and the current is closed, for it passes from 6 to a, then reaches the stripe through the plate n. On the contrary, as long as the strip a does not touch one of the appendages, the current is broken.

At the moment when the current is interrupted, violent shocks may be obtained. For this purpose, fasten at and two long copper wires, coiled in a helix and terminating

With Clarke's apparatus, all the effects of voltaic currents may be produced in currents of induction. Fig. 462 shows Fig. 464.

how to arrange an experiment for the decomposition of water. The strip a is then suppressed, the current being closed by the

LESSONS IN MORAL SCIENCE-No. XII. DUTIES OF MAN TO THE CREATOR AS THUS MANIFESTED.

HAVING given, in a summary, the proofs of the existence and character of God, so far as reason can guide us in the inquiry, we are now prepared to consider the relation in which man stands to God, and the obligations which arise out of this relation. As man himself, in the wise and wonderful constitution of his mind and body, has been supplied with the most striking and convincing evidences of a powerful, wise, and beneficent Author of the universe; we are led at once to see, that God, as being the Creator of man, and the Giver of all his remarkable endowments, has a perfect right to claim his obedience to the utmost extent of his powers. And on taking an impartial survey of the origin of his being, of the goodness of the Creator in his various beneficent endowments, and of his continual dependence upon divine Providence, not only for the continuance of his being, faculties, and susceptibilities, but also for all those gifts necessary to his health and comfort, man cannot but feel that he is under the strongest moral obligation to obey, honour, and glorify his Maker, with his best affections and most strenuous exertions. This is the foundation of what is called the law-that moral law which is, as it were, written on the heart of every man; for what man is there, who has come to the exercise of reason, who does not perceive a clear distinction between right and wrong? And where can be found a human being, who, upon having his relation to God as his Creator set before him, does not feel in his conscience, that he is under a moral obligation to be subservient to

his will?

The general obligation on all moral agents, to serve their Creator, is evident enough. It will require some time, and careful consideration of this relation in which man stands to his Maker, to ascertain the particular duties which are obligatory on all men.

This we shall now attempt so far as reason can guide us in

this matter.

Here it may be proper to remark, that the essence of all obedience is internal; that is, consists in the dispositions, affections and purposes of the heart. Outward actions partake of a moral nature only so far as they proceed from these internal affections. Human laws must be satisfied with external obedience, because human lawgivers cannot search the heart, nor scrutinise the motives of those who owe obedience. But even earthly judges, in administering justice, endeavour, as far as human judgment can go, to discover from what internal motives any action under examination was performed; and their decision of acquittal or condemnation is grounded on the opinion which they form of the intention and motives of the person under arraignment. Much more, then, does the moral Governor of the World require of his creatures the obedience of the heart; for he possesses a perfect knowledge of what is in the heart of every one; and a most perfect estimate of the nature of moral good and evil, as those qualities exist in the human heart. It seems evident, therefore, that the laws of nature demand the highest degree of excellence of which the mind of man is capable. And as God possesses every moral attribute in the highest perfection, it is reasonable to infer, that man, as he came from the hands of his Creator, was endued with the seeds and principles of every moral virtue. And if the nature of man is not now found adorned with these moral excellencies, he must in the exercise of his free will have departed from his primeval state. Our present inquiry, however, is not whether man has fallen from his original integrity,

his Creator, Benefactor, and Preserver. Although the obliga tion to obedience arises primarily from the relations just mentioned, yet it is necessary to take into view the supreme excellence and majesty of the character of God; for if pious and devout sentiments towards God be required, it is because there is in the character of God, as exhibited in his works, something to call forth such affections from rational and rightly disposed minds. If God were not supremely excellent, it would not be reasonable to demand supreme love from his creatures, and so of other things. But as we know that God is possessed of every excellence in an infinite degree, there exists an object for every affection and sentiment towards him of which the human mind is capable. From what has been said it is evident, that in order to perform any other duties to the Creator, some knowledge of his true character is requisite. Without knowledge the rational mind cannot exercise right affections.

Supposing, then, a rational mind, such as it is reasonable to think man possessed when he proceeded from the hands of his Maker, and possessing that knowledge of his attributes which may be learnt from his works, what would be the first thoughts and feelings of the newly-created soul? In our judgment, the first feeling would be an emotion of profound veneration, or perhaps the word adoration would more strongly indicate the state of the mind, absorbed in the contemplation of a Being so august, so powerful, and so immense. This feeling, then, is one which ought to exist in every rational mind towards the Almighty. This is the true foundation of divine worship. It is the deep and solemn emotion which is the essence of the worship, which holy beings in all worlds offer unto God.

And this feeling would lead to a reverence for every thing which has any relation to God. His very name would be sacred. We have read of men of great eminence who neve mentioned that name without a solemn pause, or some external token of reverence.

The duty which most naturally arises from the relation which man sustains to God, as his Creator, Benefactor, and Redeemer, is that of gratitude. This is, when strong, a very lively and impulsive feeling. It draws men along as taken captive; and yet the constraint is not painful, but pleasing. Under the influence of gratitude, men will engage in the most odious duties, and will voluntarily make the most self-denying ser fices. Under the influence of this affection men have been willing to lay down their lives. Gratitude is, then, an impor tant principle of man's obedience. It is true, some have attempted to degrade this principle as one which scarcely be said to partake of the nature of virtue, because it has respect to self, and to our own interest. But though gratitude or nates in the sense of benefits received by ourselves, it does not deserve to be classed with mere selfish affections. Its object to make a return to a benefactor for favours received. It is therefore, an elevated species of justice; for when a suitable and adequate return can be made for favours received, gra tude will not be satisfied until this is done. And in regard to the benefits received from our Creator, as an adequate compet sation is utterly beyond our power, gratitude manifests se in acknowledgment of obligation in thanksgiving and in t ceasing praises. There is, however, no necessity to argue this matter; the appeal may safely be made to the feelings of ever rightly constituted mind. All men who acknowledge the ex tence and providence of God, feel that a debt of gratitude due to their great Benefactor.

the

As the mind, when uncorrupted, is so constituted as to love and esteem whatever is excellent, and as moral excellence superior to all other amiable objects, and as God possess this excellence in an infinite degree, it is reasonable that should be esteemed above every other object. Finite mind it is true, can never exercise love proportionate to the exser lence of this Glorious Being; but as far as they possess capacity of apprehending it, and the susceptibility of affectin they are under moral obligation to love God with all that powers. And this cannot be considered as demanding much of the rational creature, for no other measure of affectin can be fixed without supposing a wrong estimate of the obje or a defect of right feeling; for what is more reasonable that to proportion the intensity of our affection to the excellence of

own.

seen by any human eyes, excepting those of the author and the printer; the faults and the merits are exclusively my Gibbon died at his dwelling, St. James's-street, London, on the 16th of January, 1794. We hope that these particulars, combined with the ensuing extracts, will lead some of our readers to the diligent perusal of the history which is the everlasting monument of his fame.

spirit of fraud for enthusiasm, whose abode is not in the heavens but in the mind of the prophet. The faith which, under the name of Islam, he preached to his family and nation, is compounded of an eternal truth and a necessary fiction—that there is only one God, and that Mahomet is the apostle of God."

MAHOMET.

"According to the tradition of his companions, Mahomet was distinguished by the beauty of his person-an outward gift which is seldom despised, except by those to whom it has been refused. Before he spoke, the orator engaged on his side the affections of a public or a private audience. They applauded his commanding presence, his majestic aspect, his piercing eye, his gracious smile, his flowing beard, his countenance that painted every sensation of the soul, and his gestures that enforced each expression of the tongue. In the familiar offices of life he scrupulously adhered to the grave and ceremonious politeness of his country: his respectful attention to the rich and powerful was dignified by his condescension and affability to the poorest citizens of Mecca; the frankness of his manner concealed the artifice of his views; and the habits of courtesy were imputed to personal friendship or universal benevolence. His memory was capacious and retentive, his wit easy and social, his imagination sublime, his judgment clear, rapid and decisive. He possessed the courage both of thought and action; and although his designs might gradually expand with his success, the first idea which he entertained of his divine mission bears the stamp of an original and superior genius. The son of Abdallah was educated in the bosom of the noblest race, in the use of the purest dialect of Arabia; and the fluency of his speech was corrected and enhanced by the practice of discreet and reasonable silence. With these powers of eloquence, Mahomet was an illiterate barbarian; his youth had never been instructed in the arts of reading and writing; the common ignorance exempted him from shame or reproach, but he was reduced to a narrow circle of existence, and deprived of those faithful mirrors which reflect to our minds the minds of sages and heroes. Yet the book of nature and of man was open to his view; and some fancy has been indulged in the political and philosophical observations which are ascribed to the Arabian traveller. He compares the nations and religions of the earth; discovers the weakness of the Persian and Roman monarchies; beholds with pity and indignation the degeneracy of the times; and resolves to unite, under one God and one king, the invincible spirit and primitive virtues of the Arabs. Our more accurate inquiry will suggest, that instead of visiting the courts, the camps, the temples of the East, the two journeys of Mahomet into Syria were confined to the fairs of Bostra and Damascus; that he was only thirteen years of age when he accompanied the caravan of his uncle, and that his duty compelled him to return as soon as he had disposed of the merchandise of Cadijah. In these hasty and superficial excursions, the eye of genius might discern some objects invisible to his grosser companions; some seeds of knowledge might be cast upon a fruitful soil; but his ignorance of the Syriac language must have checked his curiosity; and I cannot perceive in the life or writings of Mahomet, that his prospect was far extended beyond the limits of the Arabian world. From every region of that solitary world the pilgrims of Mecca were annually assembled, by the calls of devotion and commerce: in the free concourse of multitudes, a simple citizen, in his native tongue, might study the political state and character of the tribes, the theory and practice of the Jews and Christians. Some useful strangers might be tempted or forced to implore the rites of hospitality; and the enemies of Mahomet have named the Jew, the Persian, and the Syrian monk, whom they accuse of lending their secret aid to the composition of the Koran, Conversation enriches the understanding, but solitude is the school of genius; and the uniformity of a work denotes the hand of a single artist. From his earliest youth Mahomet was addicted to religious contemplation: each year, during the month of Ramazan, he withdrew from the world and from the arms of Cadijah: in the cave of Hera, three miles from Mecca, he consulted the

THE RELIGION OF THE ANCIENT GERMANS.

"The religious system of the Germans (if the wild opinions of savages can deserve that name) was dictated by their wants, their fears and their ignorance. They adored the great visible objects and agents of nature, the sun and the moon, the fire and the earth; together with those imaginary deities who were supposed to preside over the most important occupations of human life. They were persuaded that, by some ridiculous arts of divination, they could discover the will of the superior beings, and that human sacrifices were the most precious and acceptable offering to their altars. Some applause has been hastily bestowed on the sublime notion entertained by that people of the Deity, whom they neither confined within the walls of a temple, nor represented by any human figure; but when we recollect that the Germans were unskilled in architecture, and totally unacquainted with the art of sculpture, we shall readily assign the true reason of a scruple, which arose not so much from a superiority of reason, as from a want of ingenuity. The only temples in Germany were dark and ancient groves, consecrated by the reverence of succeeding generations. Their secret gloom, the imagined residence of an invisible power, by presenting no distinct object of fear or worship, impressed the mind with a still deeper sense of religious horror; and the priests, rude and illiterate as they were, had been taught by experience the use of every artifice that could preserve and fortify impressions so well suited to their own interest.

"The same ignorance, which renders barbarians incapable of conceiving or embracing the useful restraints of laws, exposed them naked and unarmed to the blind terrors of superstition. The German priests, improving this favourable temper of their countrymen, had assumed a jurisdiction, even in temporal concerns, which the magistrate could not venture to exercise; and the haughty warrior patiently submitted to the lash of correction, when it was inflicted, not by any human power, but by the immediate order of the god of war. The defects of civil policy were sometimes supplied by the interposition of ecclesiastical authority. The latter was constantly exerted to maintain silence and decency in the popular assemblies; and was sometimes extended to a more enlarged concern for the national welfare. A solemn procession was occasionally celebrated in the present countries of Mecklinburgh and Pomerania. The unknown symbol of the Earth, covered with a thick veil, was placed on a carriage drawn by cows; and in this manner the goddess, whose common residence was in the island of Rugen, visited several adjacent tribes of her worshippers. During her progress the sound of war was hushed, quarrels were suspended, arms laid aside, and the restless Germans had an opportunity of tasting the blessings of peace and harmony. The truce of God, so often and so ineffectually proclaimed by the clergy of the eleventh century, was an obvious imitation of this ancient custom.

But the influence of religion was far more powerful to inflame, than to moderate, the fierce passions of the Germans. Interest and fanaticism often prompted its ministers to sanctify the most daring and the most unjust enterprises, by the approbation of Heaven and full assurances of success. The consecrated standards, long revered in the groves of superstition, were placed in the front of the battle; and the hostile army was devoted with dire execrations to the gods of war and of thunder. In the faith of soldiers (and such were the Germans) cowardice is the most unpardonable of sins. A brave man was the worthy favourite of their martial deities: the wretch who had lost his shield was alike banished from the religious and the civil assemblies of his countrymen. Some tribes of the north seem to have embraced the doctrine of transmigration, others imagined a gross paradise of immortal drunkenness. All agreed, that a life spent in arms, and a glorious death in battle, were the best preparations for a happy futurity, either in this or in another world."