ple; in the second place, the effect it has on agriculture; and, in the third place, I will consider it in a political view, and point out a few of the dangerous consequences which will certainly be sooner or later the result of the tithe system, if the same is continued as at present. Whoever has lived in any of the small country towns or villages in England can scarcely miss having observed the effect of the tithes, particularly on the lower orders of the people. In place of looking up to the minister or parson of the church with that respect and esteem which are due to the character of a priest or minister, and listening with attention to his instructions, they in general consider him as their greatest enemy. Passions the most inimical to the practice of a Christian are constantly kindled in the human heart; nor is it possible to be otherwise, when those articles, which are so essential to the poor, and often constitute a great part of their living, are forcibly taken from them. So very extensive, and sometimes undefined, are the laws relative to tithes, that I believe, wherever they have been contended, the church gains nine causes in every ten; so that there is not an article on which the parson cannot lay his hands: the poor man's potatoes, turnips, peas, cabbages, all must pay tithe. Of fowls of every kind, viz. hens, ducks, geese, &c. and of pigs, the law demands one in every ten; but the general practice, as far as my observation has served me, is, the parson takes one of every kind, however small the number. I would now ask any calm, unprejudiced person, if it is possible, under such circumstances, for any good understanding to take place between the parson and his hearers. I well remember, when very young, being some time in a village, not ten miles from the Tweed, where the antipathy of the people against the minister of the church was carried to such a pitch, that it was often said, the first words that children were taught to utter was to curse the parson. I, however, cannot help at the same time observing, that even the minister himself is placed in most uncomfortable circumstances; for if he is a pious, humane man, he is sure to lose more than the half of what the law says is his right. If he is an austere man, or if the necessities of his own family urge him on to greater acts of severity than he would otherwise pursue; in that case he is an object of suspicion, hatred and ill-will. The fatal consequences of such things require very little illustration: the morals of the people are corrupted, no early impressions of piety are fixed on their minds, religion becomes a mere mock-ery, and the church is only spoken of with contempt and ridicule.-I will now consider the effect which tithes have on agriculture; and here a more extensive field presents itself to the contemplation of every inquisitive or impartial observer. In the former ages of darkness and superstition, when the parson of every church was supposed to hold the keys of heaven and hell, when indulgences could be bought with money, and the prayers of the priest were believed to shorten and mitigate even the sufferings of the wicked in a future state, and a bequest to the church was accounted a sure passport to heaven: when the people were under these impressions, it is no surprise that they cheerfully submitted to every demand, and made a willing sacrifice of not only the tenth of all they possessed, but in many instances of nearly the whole of their property; but in this age of general information, when every man is taught to think and judge for himself, to continue the same system appears to me extremely unaccountable, and I have long considered it as a most dangerous infatuation; for it is now no longer a matter of choice or a voluntary sacrifice, but it is become a matter of severe coercion, and can only be enforced by the execution of laws made in the ages of ignorance and barbarism. I believe there is scarcely an individual in the kingdom, however much he may be attached to the church, but who feels a disagreeable if not an indignant sensation when he sees the tithe-gatherer collecting his tenths from the whole produce of his lands. But if this is the general feeling under such circumstances, what must be the sensations produced on the laborious cultivator of waste lands who transforms a barren wilderness into fruitful fields and luxuriant meadows? With what severe regret and high indignation must he survey the collector of tithes carrying off the tenth of all his toil and tillage, whilst he has not contributed one fraction to any of his improvements? Is there a man in the country but who deplores this as a great evil, and a most severe 562 Letter to the Rev. J. Evans, on Calvin's Treatment of Servetus. check on the cultivation of waste lands in particular? And so long as this system continues, to say that we give proper encouragement to agricultural improvements I consider as an insult to plain common seuse.' It would be an easy matter to carry this argument to greater length and to illustrate it by many examples, but to every reflecting mind it is so obvious that I will not lengthen this essay by any farther remarks, but proceed to my last proposition, which was to consider the effects of the tithe system in a political point of view, or rather to make some observations on the general effect which the present laws and regulations must naturally When the seeds of discontent are sown, unless the cause is completely removed, they will continue to grow and increase in strength till some dreadful convulsion produce a change, if not always a cure. For the truth of the above observations I can appeal to the united voice of history down to our present most eventful times. That the present system of tithes has a natural tendency to produce evils of the greatest magnitude appears to me clearly evident, and I can only hope that some effectual remedy may be applied to avert the evil before it is too late. SIR, JAMES GRAHAM. Islington, Sept. 2, 1815. S you have lately given a fine portrait of that Unitarian martyr Servetus, with [references to] a delineation of his character and an account of his lamentable end, 1 send you for insertion a curious anonymous Letter which I have just received-it relates to the part which Calvin took in the business, and shews the ingenious methods employed by his admirers to extenuate his conduct. At the same time, the only notice I am inclined to take of this nameless epistle, is to adopt the reference inserted in the last edition (13th) of my Sketch, and which seems to have given occasion to this letter. The reference is strong, I canfess, but marked with a justifiable severity-" See the Life of Servetus, by Richard Wright, where the tragedy is detailed with all its circumstances of brutality!" produce on the minds of the people. As I think it is here necessary to remark, that, if we consider the check which the tithe system has on the improvements of waste lands, and add to this the enormous expense of obtaining an act of parliament for inclosures, I really think any impartial person will say, that in place of giving eacouragement to cultivate waste lands we have laid an embargo on every exertion of the kind. I am, Sir, yours respectfully, SIR, J. EVANS. To the Rev. J. EVANS. Raunds, near Thrapston, Northamptonshire. Having read in the 79th page of your useful Sketch the brief statement of the affair of Calvin and Servetus, I I should be happy to see noticed, in any future edition, the following particulars, which tend to relieve the character of that eminent reformer from the great weight of odium incessantly and almost exclusively cast upon him. 1. Calvin had forewarned Servetus of his danger before he came to Geneva-" forewarned-forearmed." 2. He was convicted by due process of law and condemned, not by Calvin, but by the laws and magistrates of the city. 3. Calvin tried to obtain for him a mitigation of punishment. 4. The reformers stood upon very delicate ground-every heresy was laid to their charge with a view to their prejudice, and Servetus being a Socinian it was compulsory in them to give their verdict against him. 5. To the persecuting spirit of the times the greatest blame is attributable: and the mode of his death-it was the error and infection of those days, when the nature and foundation of religious liberty was not understood. Lastly, several eminent divines approved of the action after it was done, viz. Bucer, Ecolampadius, Farel, Beza, and the humane Melancthon himself, in a letter addressed by him to Calvin on the subject. Vide Sennebier's account of Calvin's treatment of Servetus, in Dr. Erskine's Sketches and Hints of Church History, vol. ii. 277, and Bayle's Dictionary, art. Calvin. I think the above will suffice to clear off a little obloquy which the Papists always used against the Reformers (in which they have been too hastily folJowed by others), and shew that the disgrace of burning Servetus (an act which makes us shudder in these enlightened times) was at least not peculiar to Calvin. I am, Sir, yours very truly, 31 Aug. 1815. ON W. H. N. SIR, Sept. 3, 1815. N opening your last number, I perceive that I must not yet repose like "him that putteth off the harness." Three more antagonists appear, and others may be advancing. I shall not regret their number, even though they "coutend earnestly," while "the weapons of our warfare are not carnal." V. F., who has often communicated valuable information to your pages, first claims my attention. That signature, originally adopted, if I guess aright, as a grateful record of filial affection, is now honourably employed to vindicate the memory of a friend, unjustly, as I think, supposed to have been misrepresented by me. I respect the motives of V. F. too much not to avoid scrupulously any expression which might hurt his feelings, though he has borne rather hard upon me. Were he a Dictator, I fear he would too readily degrade me from the only nobility of which I believe either of us is tenacious, the rank of noble Bereans, because, though I inquired whether the things were so, the inquiry was not conducted according to his judgment. Yet V. F. will allow it to have produced the best possible result, in a public refutation of a public censure; a result which I am glad to have occasioned, for I never had the slightest ill-will to the memory of Dr. Enfield, who was indeed a stranger to me, but to whose various writings I have been indebted for much valuable knowledge, familiarized by the ease and perspicuity of his style. To his posthumous Sermons I had no immediate access, nor any distinct recollection of their subjects; when, looking for another article in Mr. Chalmers's Biography, I accidentally fell upon his censure of their tendency. That censure I should have known to be unjust, had I then possessed the information which I thank Vindex for affording me; though recollecting only the Sermons published in 1769, I confess that I feared such a censure might have been too justly incurred. As to the point for which alone i first mentioned that publication, I am quite satisfied with V. F.'s estimate of his friend's "juvenile compositions." I have often read and admired them as "beautiful essays," though I would rather have found in "Sermons for the Use of Families" a developement of Christian doctrines, accompanied, as such should always be, with a moral application. V. F. must allow me to say that, as often happens among rival forensic advocates, he has proved for me my case. Scrutator described a number of aged Unitarian ministers who had spent their youth, according to his representation, in opposing popular errors, like our missionaries, not merely negatively, but by contending, through evil report and good report, for what we esteem the truth as it is in Jesus. I demurred to this statement, and instanced the Sermons of Preachers among those called Rational Christians, especially the small volume by Dr. Enfield in 1769. That volume V. F. is constrained to admit to be a proofin point, for he finds himself obliged to pass from "the juvenile compositions" to the "later discourses" of his friend, before he finds any which he can satisfactorily advise me "to read and study" that I may become "a more enlightened Unitarian," though I am conscious that any of the Discourses of 564 Natural Theology. No. IX.-Mechanical Arrangement of the Body. Dr. Enfield, practically applied, could not fail to make me "what is," as V.F. justly observes," of much greater consequence, a better man." I have occasion to trouble your respectable correspondent from Norwich with only a short reply. He brings forward against my opponent-statements most honourable to his congregation and those who have served them in the Christian ministry. But I cannot perceive that there is really any question between Mr. Taylor and Bereus, whose "heavy charge," should he examine the juvenile volume so often mentioned, he may find not entirely groundless. That Dr. Enfield soon corrected his views of the Christian ministry, and made the New Testament more exclusively "the man of his counsel" till he had become in 1785 all that Mr. Taylor knew and justly admired, is highly creditable to his piety and discernment, but no refutation of my statement respecting the Christian deficiencies of the volume published in 1769. That volume I had never noticed in the manner which has called forth so much animadversion, had I not been of opinion that the story of the dead, comprehending their virtues and failings, the "fears of the brave and follies of the wise," was their bequest to the living, and that it became the duty of every one to claim his life-interest in that valuable legacy whenever circumstances supplied the occasion for its honourable use. The shoulder includes two boues, the clavicle and scapula: the former, called also the collar-bone, extends across from the tip of the shoulder to the upper part of the breast-bone, and serves to the shoulder as an arch supporting and preventing it from falling in and forwards upon the breast. The two collar bones also make the hands strong antagonists to each other, which without them they could not have been. The scapula or shoulder-blade is broad and flattish, and serves as a base to the whole superior limb. Its under side is somewhat concave, to fit on the convexity of the ribs on which it is placed, though it is not in immediate contact with them, but separated from them by layers of muscular flesh, by means of which this bone may glide upon the trunk and increase the motion of the limb which is suspended from it. The scapula is not articulated with any bone of the trunk which would impede its motions, but is securely held to the trunk by those very muscles which perform its movements. The arm-bone is articulated with the scapula, and a high ridge called the spine rises from the back or external surface of the scapula, and traversing its whole length runs forward to terminate in that high point or promontory which forms the tip of the shoulder, and overhangs and defends the joint. This projecting point of the scapula is called the acromion process; it almost makes a part of the shoulder-joint, preventing luxation upwards. There is another process which stands out from this angle of the scapula, and is intended to secure the joint and prevent dislocation. The shoulder-blade is in some respects a very singular bone, appearing to be made expressly for its own purpose, and independently of every other reason. In such quadrupeds as have no collar-bones, which are by far the greater number, the shoulder-blade has no bony communication with the trunk, either by joint, or process, or in any other way. It does not grow to, or out of, any other bone of the trunk. It does not apply to any other bone of the trunk: it forms in strict fact, no part of the skeleton. It is bedded in the flesh, attached only to the muscles. It is a foundation-bone for the arm laid in, but distinct from the general ossification. The lower limbs connect themselves at the hip with bones which form part of the skeleton; but this connexion, in the upper limbs, being wanting, a basis, on which the arm might be articulated, was to be supplied by a detached ossification for the purpose. The ARM is divided into two parts, which are articulated or joined at the elbow. The upper part, or os humeri, retains the name of arm properly so called, and the lower part between the elbow and wrist is called the fore-arm. The arm, or that part extending from the shoulder to the elbow, has only one bone, which is articulated at the shoulder by a round head, and connected to it by ligaments, which inclose the whole joint as in a bag. That the joint may have the freest motion the hollow for receiving the arm-bone is extremely shallow: the end of the bone and the hollow are lined with cartilage, and the latter is constantly moistened with an oily fluid supplied for the purpose. The lower end of the arm-bone is articulated-with the bones of the fore-arm at the elbow, carrying them with it in all its motions. The fore-arm is composed of two bones, called the ulna and the radius. The ulna, so named from its having been used as a measure, is the longer of the two, and is extended from the wrist on the side of the little finger to the point of the elbow. The radius is but partially articulated with the end of the arm-bone, it carries the wrist with a rotatory motion, and for this purpose it is so articulated with the ulna at the ends, the only points where these bones meet, that it turns upon it in half circles. There is in these bones much mechanical contrivance. For the perfect use of the limb two motions are wanted; a motion at the elbow backward and forward, called a reciprocal motion; and a rotatory motion, by which the palm of the hand may be turned upwards. To manage this, the fore-arm, as we have seen, consists of two bones, lying by the side of each other, but touching only towards the ends. One of these only is joined to the arm at the elbow, and the other is joined to the hand at the wrist. The former, by means of a hinge joint at the elbow, swings backward and forward, carrying with it the other bone and the whole fore-arm, and in turning the hand upwards that other bone to which the hand is attached rolls upon the first, by the help of a groove near each end of the bone, to which is fitted a corresponding prominence in the other. If both bones had been joined to the upper arm at the elbow, or both to the hand at the wrist, the thing could not have been performed. The first was to be at liberty at ore end, and the second at the other, by which means the two actions may be performed together. The great bone which carries the fore-arm may be swinging upon its hinge at the elbow, VOL. X. 4 D at the same moment that the lesser bone which carries the hand may be turning round it in the grooves. The hand comprehends all from the joint of the wrist to the ends of the fingers; its back part is convex for greater firmness and strength, and it is concave before for containing more conveniently such bodies as we take hold of. Anatomists divide the hand into the carpus or wrist-bones; the metacarpus or bones that stand upon the wrist, and serve as a basis to the fingers; and the fingers, consisting each of three joints. The carpus or wrist is composed of eight bones, disposed in two rows, so formed and arranged as to allow motion on all sides; and by a quick succession of these motions the hand may be moved in a circle. The lower row is articulated with the bones of the metacarpus, to which they serve as a solid foundation or centre. The metacarpus consists of four long round bones for sustaining the fingers: they are founded on the wrist-bones, but depart from them as from a centre in a radiated form, in order to allow the fingers a freer play. The thumb and fingers are each composed of three bones. The bones of the thumb are stronger than those of the fingers, because the former are intended to counteract the latter. All the bones of the fingers are placed in three rows, called phalanges. The first set is articulated with the bones of the metacarpus and consists of the largest bones; the second stands out from the first, and the last row or phalanx grows out from the second and completes the fingers. The different bones compos ing the fingers are all regularly jointed with each other, and in such a manner as to allow not only a hinge joint, but also a rotatory motion. The human hand has always been an object of admiration to the philosopher. Thus Galen, in speaking of the uses of the several parts of the body, says, "As man is the wisest of all animals, so the hands are the organs most suited to a being endowed with wisdom. For man is not wise because he has hands, as was the opinion of Anaxagoras; but Nature gave him hands, because he was endowed with wisdom to make use of them." The same philosopher inquires, Whether the hand has not the best possible conformation? And in speaking of the different |