thee nct on earth, for thou didst conceal thy existence from me; I thought not of thee nor of this day of judgment; I thought only of the earth and of my fellow-mortals. The time which others employed in imagining thy attributes, I spent in improving the talents thou hadst given me, in adding to the happiness of the companions thou hadst placed around me, in improving the earthly habitation thou hadst made my own. I spoke of that which I knew; I never spoke of thee, for I knew thee not. thee I appeal from this my accuser. Το Judge. Thou hast well spoken. I placed thee on earth, not to dream of my being, but to enjoy thine own. Thou hast well done. I made thee a man, that thou mightst give and receive happiness among thy fellows, not that thou shouldst imagine the ways and the wishes of Gods. Even as thou condemnest not the worm that has crawled beneath thy feet because it knew thee not, so neither do I condemn thy worldly ignorance of me. TRUTH AND ERROR. THERE are, besides the great test of consistency, other tests of truth and error. Truth can stand alone; she requires not that men should bolster her up; she needs no prop to prevent her falling; she is willing to be seen and examined; nor is it necessary for her, in order to maintain her dignity among her votaries, to retire, like some eastern tyrant in his palace of state, behind the ancient bulwark of legitimacy, or in the time-worn stronghold of orthodoxy. The vulgar axiom regarding the influence of familiarity, may apply to the great men of this world, but to Truth it applies not; the more familiar we are with her, the less likely are we to contemn or neglect her. Truth is a plain republican, who trusts for respect and power to the influence of her own simple character; strong in its unpretending excellence, unaided by the pomp of circumstance or the dazzle of ceremony. But Error is a true aristocrat; a despot, shut up in his massy fortress, surrounded by outworks and defended by redoubts; unwilling to be approached; fearing to be seen or known; looking for his dreaded sway to the influence of mysterious dignity, and uninvaded seclusion. He declares it to be a crime to enter his presence unless it be on bended knees and with submissive heart. He issues his commands to be obeyed, while Truth publishes her precepts to be examined. He is haughty and intolerant, impatient of intrusion, and afraid of discussion; she is mild and cour teous, tolerant of the opinions of others, nor ever violent in support of her own. Thus it happens that we hear of opinions so universally admitted that it is deemed unnecessary to prove them rational, and of doctrines so sacred that it is impious to doubt them. On the other hand we see men of science, mathematicians, physiologists, astronomers, chemists, stating their opinions without dogmatism, and hearing them questioned without acrimony. No mathematician ever impeached the sceptic who should deny that in a rightangled triangle the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other two sides; he is so thoroughly convinced of the truth of this proposition, that incredulity provokes a smile, not an anathema and if you speak to him of persecuting the infidel, and vindicating the offended cause of truth and mathematics, you will excite his astonishment and his pity-astonishment, at the supposition that there is not in his science evidence sufficient to establish its truths without extraneous support-and pity, for the ignorance that would produce conviction by force. Men are apt to forget where human power ends. One man is no more able to regulate the opinions and doctrines of another, than to regulate the weather. Public opinion may say, it is true, "Thus thou shalt believe ;" but will belief arise at the command ? Legislators and governors may issue their commands, and may fix the penalties of nonconformity, but the extent of their power is but to create hypocrisy. Sancho Panza's blunder, when going the rounds of his island, as governor, is one that his brother sovereigns, on the thrones of Europe, commit, whenever they legislate on religion, or dictate belief to their subjects. "Here," said Sancho, "take the rascal, and order him to jail; I will take care that he shall sleep for one night without air.” "'Fore God!" cried the youth, "your honour can no more make me sleep in jail, than you can make me king." "And wherefore cannot I make thee sleep in jail ?" replied Sancho; "is it not in my power to confine and release thee when and where I please ?" "How great soever your honour's power may be," said the young man, "it is not sufficient to make me sleep in prison." "How! not sufficient?" cried Sancho: 66 away with him, and let his own eyes convince him of his mistake; and lest the jailor should practise his interested generosity upon him, I will fine him in two thousand ducats, if he suffers thee to move one step from the prison." "All this is matter of mirth," answered the youth; "for the truth is, all the people upon earth shall not make me sleep in prison." "Tell me, devil," said Sancho, "hast thou got a familiar to release thee, and loose the chains with which I intend thou shalt be fettered?" "Now, my lord governor,” replied the youth with a graceful air, "let us argue the matter, and come to the point. Suppose your excellency should order me to be carried to jail, to be loaded with chains and shackles, and thrust into a dungeon, and lay a heavy penalty upon the jailor in case he should allow me to escape and lastly, suppose he should perform his duty with all imaginable care and success; notwithstanding all these precautions, if I have no inclination to sleep, and can keep myself awake all night, without closing an eye, pray tell me, is all your lordship's power sufficient to make me sleep against my will ?" ON THE FEAR OF GOD. THEOLOGIANS talk to us of that place of torment, "where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched:" they tell us that man ought to live in the fear of his God. There are many unworthy motives in the world-jealousy, hatred, vanity, love of gain-but there is not one that is more unmanly or more mischievous than fear. It chains the tongue, and fetters the hand; it deadens the faculties, and chills the feelings; it crushes the elasticity of youthful resolve, and increases the hesitating indecision of old age. It sits like an incubus upon our noblest impulses; it turns our wisdom into foolishness, and levels the generous with the selfish. There is more hope of the fool than the faint-hearted. Yet this poor, paltry, pitiful motive-the characteristic of a weak mind, and the bane of a strong one-is held up to us as the life rule of those whom the Deity delighteth to honour. Men are to be virtuous, not because virtue is excellent in itself, not be cause it gives happiness to others and brings content to ourselves, not because it gains respect and inspires love; no! but because God is angry with the wicked every day; a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers upon the children, even to the third and fourth generation! Out upon it! I had rather see a man a bold rogue, at once, than know that he was frightened into honesty. A corrupt tree cannot bring forth good fruit, so neither can fear produce any good thing. I can understand how love may be an incentive to virtue Many a good hearted youth has been checked in vicious excesses because he would not forfeit the esteem and the affection of those he loved. But fear has a breath so cold and blighting, that every good thing withers before it. J. Watson, 15, City Road, Finsbury. |