ON MIND AND MATTER. To the Editor of the Methodist New Connexion Magazine. While pleased with the extract from Lord Brougham given in the February Magazine on the subject of the "Immateriality of the Soul," I have not been less pleased in since meeting with the following remarks on Mind and Matter, by a physician who united piety with talent of the highest order, and who stood in the first class of his profession. I refer to the late Dr. Abercrombie, whose decease took place in November last. If the remarks meet with your approval, the insertion of them will oblige, Yours truly, S. WOODHOUSE. Dudley. WHEN We endeavour to speculate directly on the essence of mind, we are immediately lost in perplexity, in consequence of our total ignorance of the subject, and the use of terms borrowed from analogies with natural things. Hence the unsatisfactory nature of every physiological or metaphysical argument respecting the essence of mind arising entirely from the attempt to reason the subject in a manner of which it is not susceptible. It admits not of any ordinary process of logic, for the facts on which it rests are the objects of consciousness only; and the argument must consist in an appeal to the consciousness of every man, that he feels a power within totally distinct from any function of the body. What other conception than this can he form of that power by which he recalls the past, and provides for the future; by which he ranges uncontrolled from world to world, and from system to system; surveys the works of all-creating power, and rises to the contemplation of the eternal Cause? To what function of matter shall he liken that principle by which he is elevated with hope, excited by enthusiasm, or sunk in the horrors of despair? These changes he also feels in many instances to be equally independent of impressions from without, and of the condition of the bodily frame. In the most peaceful state of every corporeal function, passion, remorse, or anguish may rage within; and while the body is racked with the most frightful diseases, the mind may repose in tranquillity and hope. He is taught by physiology, that every part of his body is in a constant state of change, and that within a certain period every particle of it is renewed. But amid these changes, he feels that the being whom he calls himself remains essentially the same. In particular, his remembrance of the occurrences of his early days he feels to be totally inconsistent with the idea of an impression made upon a material organ, except he has recourse to the absurdity of supposing that one series of particles, as they departed transferred the picture to those which come to occupy their room. If the being, then, which we call mind or soul, be, to the utmost extent of our knowledge, thus dissimilar to, and distinct from, any thing that we know to be a result of bodily organization, what reason have we to believe that it should be affected by any change in the arrangement of material organs, except in so far as relates to its intercourse with this external world? The effects of that change which we call the death of an animal body, are nothing more than a change in the arrangement of its constituent elements; for it can be demonstrated on the strictest principles of chemistry, that not one particle of these elements ceases to exist. We have, in fact, no conception of annihilation; and our whole expe rience is opposed to the belief of one atom that ever existed having ceased to exist. There is, therefore, in the very decay of the body, an analogy which would seem to indicate the continual existence of the thinking principle, since that which we term decay is itself only another name for continual existence. To conceive then, that any thing mental ceases to exist after death, when we know that every thing corporeal continues to exist, is a gratuitous assumption, contrary to every rule of philosophical enquiry, and in direct opposition not only to all the facts relating to mind itself, but even to the analogy which is furnished by the dissolution of the bodily frame. These considerations, while they are directly opposed to the crude conclusions of the materialists, also serve to show us how much the subject is removed beyond our limited faculties; and it is not on such speculations, therefore, that we rest the evidence for a future state of being. We know nothing of the nature or essence of mind; but whatever may be its essence, and whatever may be the nature and extent of that mysterious connection which the Deity has established between it and our bodily organization, these points have no reference whatever to the great question of its future existence. This momentous truth rests on a species of evidence altogether different, which addresses itself to the moral constitution of man. It is found in those principles of his nature by which he feels upon his spirit the awe of a God, and looks forward to the future with anxiety or with hope; by which he knows how to distinguish truth from falsehood, and evil from good, and has forced upon him the conviction that he is a moral and responsible being. This is the power of conscience, that monster within, which raises its voice in the breast of every man a witness for his Creator. He who resigns himself to its guidance, and he who repels its warnings, are both compelled to acknowledge its power; and whether the good man rejoices in the prospect of immortality, or the victim of remorse withers beneath an influence unseen by human eye, and shrinks from the anticipation of a reckoning to come, each has forced upon him a conviction, such as argument never gave, that the being which is essentially himself is distinct from any function of the body, and will survive in undiminished vigour when the body shall have fallen into decay. The casuist may reason against continued existence till he bewilders himself in his own sophistries; but a voice within gives the lie to his vain speculations, and pleads with authority for a life which is to come. The sincere and humble enquirer cherishes the impression, while he seeks for further light on a subject so momentous; and he thus receives with absolute conviction the truth which beams upon him from the revelation of God,-that the mysterious part of his being which thinks, and wills, and reasons, shall indeed survive the wreck of its mortal tenement, and is destined for immortality. MEANS OF PROMOTING CHRISTIAN UNION. To unfold the advantages of Christian Union is by no means difficult. The subject suggests so many arguments and considerations that are congenial with the dictates of enlightened judgment and hallowed feeling, that to enforce its obligations and to anticipate its results, may well give fluency to thee its o pen, and facility to ay to aerance of those who have so eloquently advocated its claims. But so long as general principles only inculcated, be written and much may be said to very are H 1 froh to have practical Christian Lo little purpose o some practical measures must be recommended-and they must be measures, the adoption of which will involve no serious difficulty-and which, in their operation, will render the spirit of Union palpably manifest. Nor should the cultivation of this Union be confined to the metropolis-it might and ought to be exhibited in the larger and in the smaller towns of the provinces. Indeed, we apprehend that the expedients we are about to suggest will be more readily carried out in the smaller than in in the larger towns. And we think that if they could be carried out, great good would be the result. Of " 1st. Let the various sects of Evangelical Dissenters, (including, of course, the Wesleyans,) in each locality, assemble together on the first Monday evening of every month, for the purpose of holding a united Monthly Missionary Prayer-meeting. Let a short and suitable address be delivered by a Minister, not connected with the Chapel in which the meeting may be held. Let the Meetings be held alternately in each Chapel Union. preceded by a meeting of the Ministers of the Union, to partake of a 142131977eure of onthly Prayer-meeting be friendly cup of tea, either in the vestry, or at each other's houses. Let them the great matters relating to ministerial sucfamiliarly talk o cess, the advancement of the cause of God, and the spiritual conditions and claims both of the church and the world. This we conceive to to be a practical and a practicable mode of exhibiting Christian Union, and of realizing its blessings; and we consider it as the most important and valuable expedient that can be adopted for the purpose; and that if no other me means were brought into operation, this would of itself furnish a delightful exhibition of the reality and efficiency of sincere Christian Union. 1 Ꮧ 11 2. There is one mode of manifesting Christian Union which has been once observed in the metropolis, and which might very advantageously be adopted in provincial towns we mean the annual celebration of the Lord's Supper by the churches forming the Union, all the ministers, when practicable, taking part in the service, assisting in the distribution of thefelements, as well as in the other usual exercises of that solemn and interesting ordinance. juoti) ovianotza prav mond zid bi si grog zev s 3. Let there also be an annual Social Tea Meeting of the members of the Union, taking care to avoid all appearance of exclusiveness and sectarianism in the arrangement of the tables. The evening might very profitably be occupied in friendly conversation, in singing and prayer, and in brief addresses on Christian Union, and kindred topics, by the Ministers and Lay-brethren of the different denominations. all The annual social Tea Meeting must, of course, be under the management of a Committee of Ladies—without whose influence and cooperation no plans for the promotion of Christian Union can ever be expected to succeed..v wood 289rte b *asi aut mad i we TWO SWEARERS CONVERTED BY MEANS OF A TRACT. The following statement was communicated to the writer by John Ward, a Christian Brother who is employed by our esteemed friend W. Bailey, Esq., of Lightwood, near Longton, to circulate religious tracts: 1 ABOUT six months ago, 11 in the course of his interesting employment, he called upon a poor, afflicted female; he immediately entered into conversation on religious subjects, and was pleased to find she was not a stranger to the hope of the gospel. She gave him to understand that she was the subject of painful trials, and had to suffer much from the violence of "a wicked, swearing husband." To use my informant's own words,-"Before I left her, I presented her with a tract called The Swearer's Prayer;' but she had no hope that her husband would receive at heat it. I then directed her to lay it in his way, he might meet with it by accident; thinking with her that he might pay more attention to it than if presented in the ordinary way." She acted according to the direction given, and in a short time the tract met the husband's eye. He read it over and appeared agitated; he read it over several times and became greatly alarmed; he saw his own character so strikingly pourtrayed, that a deep anxiety for his spiritual interests, and an ardent desire for salvation were awakened. In the midst of these impressions he sent for a companion in iniquity. They both read the tract together, and it produced results in the second instance. The awful statements of that tract were like "a nail fastened in a sure place." From that time they began to attend a place of worship; they yielded to the impressions of Divine grace; and both became united to a Christian society; in which they simu May the tain. ་་ ་ of the cross of Christ be multiplied daily, and may the earth soon be filled with the Divine glory! Fenton, March 7th. WM. REYNOLDS. CICS. THE END OF A PIOUS IRISHMAN. 1 JOHN, the first travelling Preacher our Society had in Ireland, as he was going round his then very extensive Circuit, called to see a friend, distinguished for his sincere piety to God, and love for the souls of his fellow-men. He had for some time been very useful in his own neighbourhood, by visiting the sick, holding meetings for prayer, and inviting the people to attend when they were favoured with a visit of the preacher. He was, however, a poor man, and dependent on his labour for his daily bread. The winter had been severe, the price of food high, and bad in quality, consequently disease soon began to prevail among the poor, and fever was doing frightful work. This poor man's family did not escape, and at length he was stricken down himself. The only means of support being thus withdrawn from the family, and the friendly neighbours, from dread of infection, obliged to avoid the house, distress became. multiplied. Such was their situation when John paid him his last visit. On entering the kitchen, and enquiring of a little girl just raised from fever, he found her father was very ill, and his thirst almost in satiable. Her mother was out looking for milk-the only drink her father could relish. The deep moanings of the sick man soon told the visitor where he lay, and the first sight of his altered features soon showed what poverty and sore affliction had done. The sick man's eye recognized in John a much loved friend; the salutation was solemn, "Welcome, welcome," said the sufferer, "good is the will of the Lord." A momentary survey of the apartment where the good man lay, forced from the eyes of the minister of Christ a flood of tears. His friend lay in the corner of the room on a cold earthen floor; his only bed was straw, and his covering very scanty; the other suffering members of his family occupying more comfortable couches, from which the affectionate father refused to have them removed. The visitor's heart was too deeply affected to allow him for a few moments to speak. "John," said the dying man, "it hastens to a close; I shall soon go to my home above; I shall soon be with the Lord; sit down and let us speak of Him whom my soul loveth; for you and I must soon part on earth for ever." They then entered into a solemn, searching conversation, during which his wife entered, and ministered a momentary relief to his burning thirst. John then knelt down by his friends' side, while they poured out their souls before God in mutual prayer and praise. Angels might have coveted their power with God, and their overflowings of divine consolation. When prayer ceased, he requested to be raised a little; then, clasping his hands together, and raising his languid eyes to heaven, he sung with remarkable force and distinctness,— "Jesus! the name to sinners dear; The name to sinners given; Having repeated the two last lines, he laid his head back on the bosom of his sobbing wife, his eyes closed gently, and apparently in an instant, his happy spirit joined the hovering band of wondering angels-for he had ceased to breathe. W. M'CLURE. John the minister, was the father of the individual whose name is affixed to the above interesting narrative. He was our first Circuit Preacher in Ireland, and was justly esteemed by the people with whom he laboured. No wonder that he was in tears at witnessing such a scene. Surely no one could have looked on with indifference; and but few will read this brief account without being forcibly reminded, that "God hath chosen the poor of this world, rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he hath promised to them that love him." Like Lazarus he was a great sufferer, "but now he is comforted." Belfast, February, 1845. A QUERY. W. BAGGALY. THE Managers and Teachers of our Schools in one of our principal Circuits, are desirous of information and advice on the following Query: Whether the giving of rewards to Sabbath-school children be productive of good or of evil? |