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inspired text. It would still be open for all parties to consider the meaning of the passages just as at present; but it is desirable for that purpose to have the vernacular version as nearly as possible a fac-simile of the original.

CRITO.

ON THE JOCULAR MENTION OF SINS.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer.

PERMIT me, through the medium of your valuable pages, to ask a solution of a difficulty which has often occurred to me in the intercourse of society; namely, How far it is allowable for a Christian to make a figurative use, in a jocular manner, of the names of sins?

I do not of course speak of levity in alluding to sins themselves (about which there can be no question amongst serious Christians); but merely of the use of names denoting qualities or actions in themselves sinful, for the purpose of expressing our meaning more strongly, or of exciting the pleasure which arises from an ingenious use of figurative language. For example; it is common in all societies, serious as well as otherwise, to hear such phrases as the following: "O you wicked creature, you have stolen my book; "Do you hear how he abuses Mr.- ; I will not have the good man slandered;” “I confess I did covet that house; "The newspapers have murdered Mr.do not bear malice against the poor man ; "I have seen a pair of eyebrows swear for an hour," &c. &c.

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In mooting this question, I have no design to make an inroad, in a spirit of rigorous preciseness, on the rational and scriptural liberty o conversational intercourse; but I wish simply to ascertain, for my own guidance and that of others who may have felt the same difficulty, whether the above practice does or does not come within the limits prescribed by reason and Scripture to the conversation of Christians.

I will add, that if yourself, or any of your correspondents, should be disposed to enter more at large into the general question of the " nature and limits of jocularity, as allowable amongst Christians," it would, I should think, be both a useful and acceptable subject.

F.K.

As our correspondent is pleased to suggest our offering some remarks in reply to his question, we will do so; hoping for his indulgence, if they are not to his satisfaction. First then, with regard to "jocularity," it is so coarse a species of "jesting and foolish talking," that, Christianity apart, most men of refined feelings revolt from it. Even humour is a somewhat unpolished weapon; but jocularity is fit only for a fox-hunting club. Persons of delicate perceptions, however uninfluenced by religious considerations of the duty of bridling the tongue, do not often pass beyond the bounds of wit or playfulness; their selfrespect, and their deference for others, forbidding coarse mirth.

Again we see nothing even "jocular" in some of the sayings quoted by our correspondent. To say, "O you wicked creature, you have stolen my book," is affectation; it is the sort of language which a well-educated mother is constantly repressing in her children, who are apt to learn it from ill-regulated nursery intercourse; and many persons who are not scrupulous as to the moral effect of their words, would avoid it for its want of dignity. The language of intensi

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tives is the customary language of children and of uneducated persons. The most simple remark, or plain fact, is garnished with similitudes, and magnified by exaggeration. A person's head aches "fit to split; " the horse runs mad;" loud speaking is "bawling ;" the paper is "as white as snow;" the bruise "as black as my hat;" one thing is "as big as a house;" 66 another, as yellow as gold;" people quarrel "like cat and dog;" to be warm is to be "as hot as fire;" and not to be warm is to be "as cold as ice;" the bread is " bitter as gall," and the beer" as sour as vinegar;" the meat "as tough as a board," and the broth "as salt as brine."

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These are the intensitives of puerility or ignorant vulgarism; but the intensitives of affectation are quite as displeasing, without having in their favour the plea that they are learned by rote, and employed only to convey strongly the meaning of the speaker. But the very circumstance of using them seems to imply a secret doubt whether, if he spoke simply, he should meet with ready credence; just as pompous words to a dependent usually shew that the speaker had not been early and always accustomed to receive implicit obedience. It has been frequently remarked, that the language of the hereditary nobility of severy nation is ordinarily less assuming, and more conciliating, than that of persons, whose dignity being more likely to be questioned, requires to be "kept up." The Centurion in the Gospel aptly described the language of unquestioned authority; “Go, and he goeth;" "Come, and he cometh." Had the obedience been doubtful, there might have been a weak-minded effort to enforce it by peremptory words; "Go this moment; ""Come instantly." We often hear mothers calling after their children in the streets, in tones and words which prove that they are by no means clear that their direction will command respect and obedience. Where the speaker has not any doubt that his order will be attended to, he needs not even put it into the shape of a command. "Major A. will join his regiment to-morrow; ""Captain B. will be prepared to carry dispatches to Nova Scotia next Monday;" is the very strongest style of injunction. Kings speak this language. A silly story lately ran the round of the newspapers, that our gracious Queen, reluctant to sign the warrant for the punishment of a soldier, questioned Lord Hill as to whether there was any mitigating circumstance; and at length being told that the man had received a good character, exclaimed, “A thousand thanks, my Lord," and signed the pardon. The fabricator meant, we suppose, to make her Majesty very polite, and also very animated; whereas he puts into her lips a speech of vulgar affectation, which no queen could utter ; or which, if she did, would prove that she was thinking less of the unhappy culprit, than of exhibiting her own affected sensibility.

We have apparently digressed from "jocularity" to display or intensitiveness; but we understand our correspondent to allude to the former in connexion with the latter; the jocularity is to "give effect" to what would otherwise be a mere unadorned remark. He seems to have blended in his inquiry three things distinct in their nature, and which should be considered separately; namely, jocularity; intensitiveness; and light allusion to serious subjects.

1. As to the first, we need only quote the general exhortations of Holy Writ; how far particular pleasantries, or a person's general habits of conversation, offend against them, is a matter of detail for private application. The general precepts are such as the following: "The tongue of the wise useth knowledge aright, but the mouth of fools poureth out foolishness." "A naughty person, a wicked man, walketh with a froward mouth." "Whoso keepeth his mouth and his tongue, keepeth his soul from troubles." "The mouth of the righteous speaketh wisdom, and his tongue talketh of judgment." "A wholesome tongue

"The heart

is a tree of life." "A word spoken in due season, how good is it." of the wise teacheth his mouth, and addeth learning to his lips." "Every idle word that man shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment." "Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man." "Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth; but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers."

2. The second question involved, is that of intensitiveness. Now intensitiveness, so far as it implies exaggeration, is contrary to Christian simplicity; it is not making our Yea, yea; and our Nay, nay. But we must distinguish whether it is caused by any corrupt object or motive; such as fraud, vanity, self-conceit, a desire to be thought to say "good things;" or whether it arises merely from an almost unconscious use of accustomed habits of language. A Frenchman may mean nothing inflated by some expressions, which in the lips of an Englishman would convey falsehood. So also when an ill-educated Englishman says that "it rains cats and dogs," he certainly does not mean to assert this as a literal fact; nor is he perhaps even actuated by any motive which makes him wish to exaggerate; or by the vanity of having said a smart thing; he may merely mean to convey to his neighbour the idea which that phrase conveys to himself; and to let him know how very heavy the shower really was. This, we say, may be; though, in point of fact, there is usually involved in proverbial exaggerations a feeling of self-importance, which makes men prefer being the bearers of great announcements rather than of small ones. Or where this motive does not operate there may be some latent sinister design; the school-boy may make the most of the rain to avoid going to school; or the groom to keep his master from riding out on horseback; though if the alternative were for the school-boy to learn triple tasks at home, or the groom to clean the carriage and rub down the horses, each might have spoken less intensitively of the shower. In all such cases the exaggeration was fraudulent and immoral.

3. The third, and what our correspondent apparently intended to be the main, point of his inquiry, is whether we may use sportive allusions to serious subjects. Most certainly not; sin must not be trifled with; nor must the terms which designate it be jocosely employed. Incalculable injury results from the light nomenclature by which wickedness is often described in plays, novels, and unguarded conversation.

But our correspondent says that he does not mean exactly this. He does not refer to the palliation of what is really sinful by jocose terms; but to speak ing jocosely of what is not sinful, in words which in their proper sense mean what is sinful. Now here the solution will depend upon whether there was any intention of making a jest of sin. Language is the index of ideas; its use is conventional; and we ought not to make a man "an offender for a word," where there was no wrong meaning. Covetousness in its ordinary sense is a sin; but when a man says, "I am covetous of every hour of my Sabbath," he uses the word by accommodation, not in the sense in which to covet is to break the tenth commandment. But when a poet or novel-writer says that his heroine "commits murders," the expression is offensive, because it lightly employs words which call before the mind a horrible crime, to express the influence of amatory passion. The shades of meaning of words are so numerous that no general rule can be laid down respecting their use; except that truth and simplicity should regulate all our conversation. If we were to analyse our correspondent's examples, we should say, that "you wicked creature" is unjustifiable, because it speaks lightly of what is too awful for banter; we must not play at being

wicked. The word is so closely connected with our associations of Holy Writ, that we cannot use it ironically without irreverence; nay, it is this tacit allusion which gives the popular zest to the adaptation. In using the word jestingly, "fools make a mock at sin." The playful use of the word "stolen" is not precisely of the same character. The epithet "wicked" refers to criminality in the sight of God; but "stolen" awakens two ideas, namely, the guilt of the stealer and the loss to the owner; and in the case in question it is the owner who is speaking, and he means only to say that he has lost his book, and that he thinks his friend has inadvertently taken it. He uses the word in a way of small blame, without reference to moral guilt. The remark is flippant and ill-bred; but it does not embody irreverent associations. It is, however, contrary to Christian simplicity; for stolen is not a regular vernacular expression for innocent abstraction. Many children and ignorant persons would be deceived by it; of which the following incident is a proof. A young clergyman had lodgings in the house of a respectable couple, in whose veracity, honesty, and integrity, he had the utmost confidence. It happened one day, while his landlady was removing his breakfast equipage, that his pencil being on the table, he said, as he took it up, being engrossed with what he was reading, and not even recollecting afterwards that he had uttered the remark, "Pray don't steal my pencil." During several days after, everything seemed to be going on wrong in the family; the wife was sobbing, the children appeared under constraint, and the husband was cold and displeased. At length the mystery was developed by the good man coming to the unconscious author of all the mischief, and telling him that his wife was extremely distressed at the suspicion cast upon her character; that they had always endeavoured to act uprightly, and had never, till now, been accused of dishonesty; and that as they could not give satisfaction, it would be better not to continue the engagement. It was with difficulty they could be persuaded that nothing of the kind was meant; for they were plain matterof-fact people; and in their station of life stealing was a reality, not a figure of speech.

With regard to the phrases, "Do you hear how he abuses him ;" and, "I will not have the good man slandered;" it is evident, from the manner in which they are uttered, that they are not intended to make light of the serious offences of abuse and slander, in their malignant meaning; but are applied in the sense of bearing a little too hard, without any unkind intention. We are not advocating the use of the expressions; but the speaker does not design by them to make light of sin. When he says, "I will not hear the good man slandered," he rather checks what, though innoxious at first, seemed advancing to evil. The same remark applies to "Do not bear malice against the poor man." As for "The newspapers have murdered Mr.," and "A pair of eye-brows swearing;" the first is so light an allusion to a revolting crime, and the second to an act of profaneness, that the plea of metaphor will not prevent their being hateful to a humane or religious mind.

We think that enough has been said to shew that the use of language cannot, morally speaking, be reduced to rules, but must be subjected to principles. The education and habits of a gentleman will rub off much that is rough and offensive; the more refined feelings of a Christian will banish whatever is contrary to truth, meekness, and simplicity.

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ON THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD IN DAILY LIFE.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer.

I READ with great pleasure, and I hope profit, the interesting contribution of " A Layman," on the providence of God in daily life, in your Appendix for 1838. It so happened, that on the same day I read also the following passage, bearing on the same subject, in the Edinburgh Review for last October. It occurs at the end of the review of the Memoirs of Sir William Knighton; which review affords another illustration of what is no new remark, that in that periodical real vital religion finds, not a friend, but an enemy; sometimes violently or scoffingly so, but still more often insidiously.

"When a person is so much under the influence of religious impressions, as to believe anything that happens to be a special interposition of Providence, we are little disposed to criticise austerely, or to throw any damp upon so wholesome and amiable a feeling; nevertheless the subject is far too important to suffer that it should be debased by grossly injudicious treatment, and by errors and inconsistencies so glaring, as to revolt any really religious and contemplative mind. What, for instance, can exceed the following error which occurs in a letter to a friend. A servant had received a severe injury by a gun of Sir William's son's bursting in his hand. Hear the moral which he draws from this accident:-' I

am sorry for poor B- -'s accident. I do not understand what business he had with William's gun; the guns of gentlemen are generally considered as not to be used without permission, or some specific order. This affair, however, I consider to come under the head of a particular Providence; for dear William might have used the gun next year, and the most disastrous results might have arisen. God be praised, and make me duly sensible of his great and continual mercies?' Now did it never strike Sir William, that Providence might have as much care for poor B, though a servant, as for dear William his son?

Had the Reviewer been conversant with Bishop Sherlock's discourse on Providence, and read his masterly distinction between a preserving Providence and a governing Providence; had he seen, moreover, that the distinction has its foundation in Scripture; Sir William's devout reflection would have been understood, unless he chose wilfully to misunderstand it. What is a providential escape to one, may be an infliction of chastisement to another. When Luther was crossing a field with his companion, a flash of lightning struck his friend dead by his side, while he himself was preserved; one was taken, the other left; he who was left deeply felt the goodness of God towards him, was taught a lesson on the mortality of man, and the importance of being prepared for eternity. The death of his companion must be considered as an inscrutable event in the government of God. It might have been the infliction of a judgment, or a short transit to glory. What we know not now, we shall know hereafter. Luther probably never lost the benefit of that vivid lesson. Sir William, as a father, saw very properly the hand of God in preserving his the son of Sir William probably now looks back on that event, as a particular providence in his favour. The servant himself, we may hope, still survives; contemplates the event as a providential escape from death; and has learned thereby so to number his days as to apply his heart to the wisdom of being prepared for eternity.

son;

What will the Reviewer, what do the inhabitants of Rettendon in Essex, say to the following awful event: " Saturday last (Dec. 1, 1838,) an inquest was held at Rettendon, before C. C. Lewis, Esq., coroner, on the body of William Howlet, upwards of 70 years of age,

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