been observed by historians of unquestionable veracity, that there have been whole tribes and nations, which had no notions of any Supreme Being, and, of course, no mode of worship. If then, according to Locke's reasoning, even an individual, perfect in all his parts, can be found without innate ideas, it will destroy the universality of the doctrine, and render it inapplicable to the human species.

But whole tribes have been discovered without any innate ideas of God; therefore, an innate idea of God is no attribute of the human species. Again, whatever is affirmed of the species, must be universally affirmed of the individuals which compose that species. If the human species have an innate knowledge of God, every individual, having the right use of all his faculties, must have an innate knowledge of God: but thousands of individuals, with the right use of all their faculties, have not had any innate knowledge of God; therefore, it is falsely affirmed, that the species have any innate knowledge of God. As, therefore, those notions of the heathen were not innate, they must have been traditional.

The proof of their knowledge, or rather, of their crude conceptions of divine things, having been derived from tradition, may be satisfactorily adduced from the generally received opinion, that Asia, Africa, and Europe, were originally peopled by the descendants of Shem, Ham, and Japhet; and, as these had all been instructed in the knowledge and worship of the true God, they would, in proportion as they were individually influenced, communicate the same to their posterity. As Shem seemed more devout than Japhet, and Japhet more so than Ham, we may fairly infer, that the descendants of Shem would propagate the knowledge and worship of God more zealously than those of Japhet, &c.

What is here assumed, is proved by historical evidence; for the page of history attests, that the knowledge and worship of God, were, for a series of ages, much purer among the Asiatics, the descendants of Shem, than among the Europeans, the descendants of Japhet; and much more

plead for her degradation below the rank of heathenism itself? No sir, let her state continue to avow itself, not only Christian, but Protestant also; and let it, as such, cherish, protect, and uphold all its Protestant ecclesiastical establishments with complete liberty of conscience, extended to such, upon all minor and controvertible points. But let it not, at its peril, sanction or protect any religious system hostile to genuine Christianity. So shall the blessing of Heaven be shed upon it, in answer to the united prayers of all its truly Christian churches.

Essay on Human Under. b. i. ch. 4. § 8.

consistent among the Europeans, than among the Africans, the descendants of Ham. This leads us to the legitimate conclusion, that the original inhabitants of the three grand divisions of the old world, derived their mode of worship, and their knowledge of God, from tradition. To this source the ramified superstitions of Greece and Rome may all be traced; and their encumbrances will be found to diminish in the same ratio as we advance towards their origin. The simple rites which distinguished the religion of Numa, were completely absorbed in the cumbersome_superstitions of Augustus. But the Roman superstition was a shoot taken from a Grecian stock for King Faunus, and his successors, were the aborigines of Italy, and, having migrated from Arcadia, they would transport their religious opinions with them.

The Greek philosophers have no claim to be the founders of their mythology. Homer and Hesiod sung their ideal gods and goddesses ages before; they, therefore, can only be called the manufacturers and embroiderers of the trappings with which they adorned their deities. They merely sung and embellished the opinions of their fathers.

That the Greeks sprang from Japhet, one of the sons of Noah, and who would teach his posterity the knowledge of a supreme Being, has been shewn by men eminent for talents, and celebrated for literature. Rollin observes, that the ancient Greeks were called Ionians, which name they took from Javan, the son of Japhet; the original Hebrew name, by a change in the pointing, or rather, without the points, being pronounced I*. Bishop Cumberland ascends a step higher, and shews that their Ιαπετος was the identical Japhet of the Hebrewst. To these might be added, the sanction of the learned Bishop Newton. then, the weight of respectable testimony give sanction to opinions, we may, without hesitation, pronounce, that the Greeks derived their knowledge of a supreme and superintending power from tradition.

If,

The propriety of these remarks will be obvious, when it is recollected, that this is an age, in which a superficial philosophy, acquired without mental discipline, attempts to account for every thing without any supernatural interference; and in which human. reason is panegyrized at the expense of divine revelation.

Having deviated a little from the direct path, it is now time to turn to the pursuit which is to trace "the evidence from Scripture, that the soul, immediately after Anc. Hist. b. v. Art. 3. Orig. Gentium Tract. vii. ch. 1. On the Prophecies, Dis. I.

the death of the body, is not in a state of sleep, or insensibility, but of happiness or misery." J. R.

Huggate, Feb. 24th, 1831.

(To be continued.).

MR. PALMER'S MONTHLY TIDE AND WIND REGISTER.

MR. Palmer, the engineer to the London Dock Company, has invented a machine for the purpose of registering the progress of the ebb and flow of the tide. It has been our fortune to see various tide poles, or tide gauges, one of which, now in operation at Sheerness, the invention of A. J. Lloyd esq. a Fellow of the Royal Society, is certainly very superior to the rest, but very inferior to the elegant and neat invention of Mr. Palmer. The whole progress of the various tides during an entire lunation, is not only delineated with a scrupulous exactness by this machine, but the direction of the wind is also noted at the same time. What a pity that the force of the wayward element could not be also ascertained; but in this philosophic age, when such scruples are made of minute quantities, we must despair of such a thing. Indeed, it would be too much to expect from the machine before us, therefore; the anemometer must still remain on the list of desiderata.

We are quite aware that no description of ours can convey a correct idea of this valuable machine, and that, to obtain it, reference must be had to a close examination of the mode in which it operates, in order to appreciate its extraordinary power, as well as the tact and ingenuity of its inventor. It is small and compact-constructed of brass and iron, and when placed on a table, independent of the floating rod or gauge, does not occupy more than two or three square feet. We will endeavour at any rate to describe it to our readers, and shall be satisfied if we only succeed in setting forth its useful qualities.

The principal part of Mr. Palmer's tide register consists of a cylinder of about two feet and a half in circumference; on which the paper that is to contain the register is received from a smaller cylinder close to it. The large cylinder is made to revolve on its axis very slowly, by means of the motion given to it by a clock; and at the end of every hour, the direction of the wind is marked on it, by the impression of a small arrow, connected with a vane affixed to a staff. A beam is placed along the upper part of the cylinder, the lower part of which contains rack-work, and is traversed by

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another, to which a pencil or point is attached. The beam containing the pencil is connected by wheelwork with a vertical floating rod, which, by the motion produced by the rise and fall of the tide, causes the pencil to move along the upper surface of the cylinder, the wheels being proportional to the vertical rise or fall of twenty-four feet, and the length of the cylinder.

It will be seen, then, that the pencil, describing the line of the tide, will have two motions-one proceeding from that which the cylinder receives from the clock, causing it to turn on its axis, which may properly be called relative; the other by the rise or fall of the tide, causing it to move laterally along the surface of the cylinder; and thus will the whole course of the tide, and its progress every hour, be distinctly traced on the paper. This, in itself is a most important point, because it is known that the rise or fall of the tide is not uniform throughout the six hours of flood or ebb; and it will be here distinctly shewn, not only when the maximum or minimum of motion occurs, but the amount of it also in a given space of time, or in other words, the libration of the tides will now be fairly investigated.

Nor are these all the advantages attending this valuable machine. The direction of the wind will be faithfully registered every hour; and the motion given to the cylinder by the clock is so slow, and yet sufficient for the intended purpose, that the cylinder will contain paper of sufficient length to serve the purpose of twenty-eight days, or to contain the register of the tide during an entire lunation. It is the intention of the inventor tc have it placed in a room immediately over a well, into which the tide will be admitted through an aperture, protected by iron gauze. Thus the effects of any external agitation, which the water may receive from the action of the wind, the passing of ships, or any other local causes, will be entirely avoided; and a complete register of the tides will be obtained.

It is impossible to be otherwise than delighted with this invention of Mr. Palmer, and, perhaps, it could not have started at a more seasonable time than the present, when the effect of removing the old London bridge will so soon be ascertained, about which so many sage opinions have been promulgated. There may, perhaps, be enough of these at present, but it seems obvious to us, and we must take the opportunity of recording it, that many parts of the river now above the bridge, will be left dry, in consequence of the ebb being accelerated by the removal of the bridge; and, as a necessary consequence to this, that the

flood-tide will be felt higher up the river, causing, probably, a partial inundation of the banks, where they are low, by arresting the progress of its natural stream. We understand it is intended to establish one of Mr. Palmer's machines both above and below the present situation of the bridge, so that the register, being instituted before its removal, will enable us to see the effects produced, on comparing the observations with those made afterwards. We expect to hear of its being established in all parts of the kingdom, so much attention has the theory of the tides received of late, and so well is it calculated to lay open all its mysteries. And thus will one of the most interesting phenomena of nature be made to discover its own laws, by the most skilful and ingenious, yet simple, adaptation of mechanical means.

THE morning, which had been appointed for the departure of the dwellers in Valdai, for Moscow, found Sobiesky far less prepared for the journey than he had been on some former periods. The powerful desire which he had long felt to visit the abode of royalty had considerably diminished, by the communication which Chowanskoi had recently made to him; besides which, the preceding evening had been spent in pensive wanderings with Eudocia, round the extensive garden of her father. The fraternal attachment which they had from infancy cherished towards each other, and never was attachment of that order more sincere and endearing, seemed suddenly to have been absorbed in one of a yet more tender kind: so at least Sobiesky felt and expressed; and, if the looks and language proceeding from an hesitating and tremulous voice, accompanied by suffused cheeks and downcast eyes on the part of Eudocia, might have been interpreted; even a novice in Ovid's school might have been bold to assert, that her feelings were not greatly dissimilar from

his own.

.

The omnipotence of silent eloquence, poured forth from the speaking actions of

Eudocia, was felt by Sobiesky, while the irresistibility of an appeal, made without designing trickery to his warm heart, by beauty, virtue, and simplicity, was acknowledged. The thought of separation produced in either mind a wild agony, which was scarcely supportable. They knew not, until now, by what powerful ties they were united; now they felt, even more than they could distinctly comprehend. They walked up the pathway towards the house, and again turned from it-they took the parting embrace, and embraced again; with their hands locked in each other, they stood a while, as if to say Farewell was impossible, until at length Eudocia, fearing the call of her father

Whisper'd a tremulous faint adieu,
The echo of a sigh,

and they parted, as few before had ever parted.

Darkness had not yielded to the faint dawning of day, although its hours had commenced, when Chowanskoi, already fully equiped, entered the apartment of Sobiesky. The lamp, which Chowanskoi carried, threw its flickering light on the countenance of the heir of Soltikoff, and presented a face which betokened how ill at ease the heart was, of which it was the index. Chowanskoi mistook its import, and, reading in it a restless desire for revenge, urged him to prepare for immediate departure. Sobiesky seemed no longer to be directed by his judgment, or influenced by choice; but, guided entirely by his long reputed father, he submitted to circumstances, without scarcely inquiring what might be the issue. Softly and slowly they left the house, the only occupants of which, now, were Eudocia and an aged female relative; with a trusty man-servant, who had long resided with Chowanskoi. Sobiesky stood a few moments, and gazed, almost in distraction, on the window of Eudocia's room, and then, hastily rushing from the garden, left the quiet abode of his youth, and joined

his conductor.

Our travellers were enveloped in dark cloaks, which extended to the calves of the legs, closely fitted to the body, and ornamented with numerous tucks at the bottom of the waist, with a broad band, or sash, bound round the middle. Beneath these envelops, they wore, as substitutes for shirts, a coloured vest of striped linen, and loose trousers, leaving their legs bare, excepting as they were defended by broad folds of the same description of material as that of which their vests were made. Their feet were adorned with high shoes, manufactured from the bark of the linden tree,

while a conical formed hat, with a narrow brim, completed their dress.

The business they were upon demanded secrecy; for suspicion was awake. Hence they were obliged to take a circuitous route, travelling wild and unfrequented tracts, where the foot-print of a human being was but unfrequently discovered. This precaution necessarily detained them a considerable time, and made their journey much longer than it would otherwise have been. Towards the evening of the seventh day since leaving Valdai, the massive cross, which crowned the lofty tower of the splendid temple of Ivan Velikii, glittered in their view, like a blazing meteor in the rays of the setting sun; while the eye of Sobiesky, filled with admiration, which for a while diverted his thoughts from painful reflections, gazed on the cupola beneath the sign of the Christian faith, which swelled out in vast dimensions like a globe of gold. The ardent youth would have pushed forwards with renewed alacrity, spurred on by powerful curiosity, but the wily Chowanskoi, who was better informed in reference to the nature of their design, in their visit to the city, knew, too, that discretion is the better part of valour, and that their mission required not less prudence than zeal; and, therefore, at a few versts from the conspirators' rendezvous, amidst the dark woods of the Sparrow Hills, he recommended a halt. Here, covered by the thick foliage of oaks, beech, mountain ash, poplars, firs, and pines, mingled together in endless variety, they formed a pleasant and safe retreat, until the day had further declined; here too they refreshed themselves with the last of the supply which they had brought with them from their own cottage.

A secret, yet strong revolting of mind, was experienced by the noble Sobiesky, to the work in which he had in some measure enlisted. All the information he could gain from Chowanskoi was, that vengeance was called for, and that it would be speedily obtained. In vain had he, at several periods during their journey, inquired the names and characters of the conspirators: once more, while seated in their woody covert, he pressed Chowanskoi to satisfy his curiosity; but, as before, he could gain nothing; an obstinate silence was maintained on the subject. Sobiesky's mind misgave him; and, to divert its bitterness, he looked back to the happy days he had spent with Eudocia, in the seclusions of Valdai, and thought, with the ancient bard of Scotia

"Pleasant is the recollection of joys that are passed;"

and yet, when the comparison, which his 2D. SERIES, NO. 4.-VOL. I.

177

mind unconsciously drew, between those "departed joys" and his present circumstances, was made, a sigh of agony burst forth, and his frame shook with a nervous convulsion.

The Moskwa, which wound its serpentine form in the valley of the Kremlin, encompassing the royal residence, as it ran towards the Volga, was passed by the travellers just as the last ray of light receded from the heavens. The appearance of nature, and the deed which was contemplated, seemed in perfect unison. Darkness sat heavy on our world, and enveloped all things in its sombre pall, as they reached the city. They passed through the Spaskiya Vorotui, or Gate of our Saviour, and crossing from hence one of the plostchads, or ill-shapen squares, into which the town is divided, they reached the dark resort of some of the disaffected lords and fanatic priests. This was an obscure inn, near the emperor's residence. Sobiesky was formally introduced to them; and it was shortly determined to inform the leaders of their body, of their intention to hold a final consultation that night, in the ruins of an extensive residence contiguous to the palace.

The inn, in which the conspirators had met, was thronged with Russians of the lower order, who, according to the general custom of their country, were indulging in intoxication and every kind of excess. The confusion which prevailed but ill accorded with the state of Sobiesky's mind, who, amidst the quiet scene of Valdai, had known no interruption to tranquillity, excepting such as might have been produced by their evening revels, or a village fete. He trembled in the midst of his new associates, and sighed to escape from them. The keen eye of Chowanskoi was fixed upon him, and, as if he read the workings of his mind, drawing him aside, like another Zanga, he endeavoured, by professions of attachment to his father's memory, and devotion to the interests of his son, to lull to quiet every aroused suspicion, and every awakened sentiment, either of fear or remorse, and thus to secure him to his purpose.

"To you, Sobiesky," observed the subtile director, "the eyes of numbers are turned, while each person, animated with a noble spirit of revenge, feels anxious to attend your bidding; this night they purpose to hail you as their chief, assured that neither skill nor courage can be wanting in the offspring of the brave Count Soltikoff. The reeking blood of your murdered sire," continued he, "no less than the degraded station to which you are reduced, calls upon 148.-VOL. XIII,

2