religious man of sound mind would permit himself to employ, at any rate, publicly! Yet, if such language took its rise from feelings properly religious, is it conceivable that we should find in the sufferer so inconsistent an avidity of worldly honours, so sensitive a perception of the slightest imputation of censure, so jealous a fear of being surpassed by other travellers in the road to fame? To call a few expressions of this sort religious, and to make Christianity responsible for the aberrations of him who uses them, is, surely, a gross mistake. I would not insinuate that there may not be a kind of devout feeling in the minds of persons who yet appear to have a most partial knowledge on the subject of religion itself. It is hardly possible, perhaps, for delicate and sensitive spirits, whose taste for beauty has been early cultivated, not to perceive some of the beauties of sacred lore, the exquisite adaptation of Scripture language to much that passes in their own breasts, and the partial similarity of the experience of the saints and sages of old to their own. All this is to be valued in its just measure. But let not the grand question of the truth and evidence of revelation be in any way affected by the defective judgments of minds like these.

It may be thought that the object of the foregoing remarks has not; hitherto, been very distinctly made out. The writer's wish has been to shew the danger of trusting in youth to natural feeling and imagination for the preservation of religious principle; the probability that those fond antici pations, awakened by youthful mani festations of devotional feeling, will be cruelly disappointed, if no good foundation has been laid, by the early exercise of the judging powers, for a cool, a rational and candid examination of the evidences of Christianity. What glories, what gains, however, human genius may bring to the cause of religion, is a question of less praetical importance than the inquiry, how far genius itself may be elevated by correct views of this grand subject. What the mind requires, what revelation offers, these things must enter into the account, or our calculation will be very incorrect. What is that state of mind which is, on the whole,

most favourable to freedom of thought, to that sort of freedom which rational spirits desire; where no one malignant feeling or unruly passion has leave to tyrannize over the soul, where no power or faculty lies dormant, yet none is tolerated in insubordination? What is that state of mind most favourable to beautiful imaginations, to the sublinest musings, to vigour and health and cheerfulness? Is it not that settled and equable state of the faculties which the religion of Jesus, sincerely believed and consistently followed, induces? Is it not desirable to have rest and peace in believing, and thenceforth to accept the noblest ideas as things substantial and unfailing? If this be the case, then, surely, Religion is justified of her children. Some may have attained to many noble gifts without her aid. Many, too many, have professed to submit to her influence, without sincerity. But the question is (next to that of positive evidence) about the tendency of some principles to make the heart happier and the mind stronger, and it is one which we can hardly think it possible to decide otherwise than in favour of religion.

There will always be causes enough, bodily and mental, to obstruct the career of human happiness, to check the freedom of the mind, to break the spirits, and take away the joy and pride of indulging those delightful reveries to which the soul, in better hours, turns with ever new interest; but who can doubt that the belief of a more perfect state hereafter, and a habit of perpetual reference to the tribunal of a God of mercy, is the most effectual medicine of the mind, the most powerful support to the weakness of human virtue? Who will not allow that the contemplation of the character of Jesus Christ, in particular, to those convinced of the divinity of his mission, (for without that belief he is inconceivably lowered in our moral judgments,) is one which must tend to exalt every power of the mind, and refine every feeling of the heart?

Dr. Channing has beautifully obs served that there is, in those who ap ply Christianity" habitually in their tempers and lives, and who imbibe its spirit and hopes, a consciousness of

its adaptation to their noblest faculties, a consciousness of its exalting and consoling influences, of its power to confer the true happiness of human nature, to give that peace which the world cannot give."+

If this sentiment be correct, how much do those individuals lose, who cast it from them as worthless, or who have fallen into the habit of considering it as a mere republication of natural religion! Those influences and that power they have never experienced. We must lament it, equally for themselves and for society at large, which would have profited by the entrance of these purifying and exalting influences into their deepest retirements. We cannot so far compromise the supreme dignity of religion, as to wish that minds of this class were religious, for Poetry's sake. But it must always be a source of thankfulness, that when we have spoken of the duty, the value, the necessity of religion, we have pot said ALL. We are permitted to proceed a step farther-to talk of its beauty, its sublimity-to point to it as the fountain of ever new and ever increasing delight; the inspirer of nobler thoughts at once their source and resting-place. Viewing it in this light, we are no longer chargeable with the guilt of accusing the Deity of leaving his best work incomplete-of rearing up that glorious fabric, the human mind, and then leaving it without correspondent and permanent resources of filling the heart brimful of extensive hopes and strong desires, which were never to be gratified.

I

SIR,

E.

Oct. 1711." He appears to have sailed from England for Madras, with "Governour Collet," who was going out in a king's frigate to his government of Bencoolen. The Governor's very kind attentions to himself, Mr. Finck acknowledges, and his "readiness to favour the design" of the mission.

While the frigate anchored at Janeiro, a French fleet successfully attacked the Portugueze settlement, and also captured the English ship; which Governor Collet ransomed, sending his son as a hostage to France. In the amount of the ransom was included £300, for the printing press, types, &c., for which Mr. Finck describes the Governor as agreeing to accept £150, as a re-payment, wishing to declare the singular regard he had to the honourable Society, and their worthy design in the East Indies."

Give me leave to suggest, in reference to the P. S. (p. 18), that there appears no little danger that the objections to anonymous signatures, should be carried among your correspondents, to an extent not the most friendly to the prosperity of a periodical work. It is obvious that while some subjects require real signatures, and many are thus recommended to attention, there are other subjects which are discussed much more freely and usefully under some nom de guerre. Nor can it be reasonably doubted that many an unpractised writer born, perhaps, to "Enlighten climes and mould a future age,"

has, while shrinking from publicity, been thus encouraged to hazard a first attempt before the ordeal of an Editor. J. T. RUTT.

"Jonas Finck," a German Printer, "sent from England to India," by "the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge," with a printing press and types for the use of the Danish Mission, writes from St. Sebastian's, the Citadel of Rio Janeiro, "20th

+ Channing's Discourse on the Evi dences of Revealed Religion.

an Unitarian and a Calvinist.

(Continued from p. 36.)
I to N.

DEAR N. Sept. 24. question at issue with a view to F you were disposed to discuss the mutual conviction, I should, with much pleasure, go through all the arguments urged on your side. You ought to know enough of the character of my mind, to give me credit for having

ground which you dread to step upon. But out of deference to your feelings, I would rather leave the question to he decided by your own experience. If, as I believe, I am right, a time will come, either in the present or a future state, when the truth of the restitution of all things, as spoken of by all the holy prophets, will be made manifest to you. I doubt very much, on various accounts, (my own failings and infirmities among the rest,) whether I shall ever be made instrumental in the correction of what, with my views, I must necessarily regard as your errors. On the other hand, I promise you that I will not treat lightly the passages of Scripture which you point out; and that I hold myself liable to reproof for any levity or laxity which you or other good men may observe in my conduct or conversation. As to the young men to whom you allude, whatever else they may have learnt from me, I trust that of making light of the consequences of sin, is not among the number. I must beg of you to look about you, and to ascertain whether such things as levity and dissolute conduct are not to be found in the families of persons who hold and inculcate the doctrines which you believe to be true.

Let me tell you, that the circumstance of being the father of a family, is one great reason why I cannot be so much at ease as you appear to be, as to what may become of the rest of mankind so long as you are assured of your own safety. The command to love our neighbour as ourselves, is not opposed to, but implies a primary regard to our own happiness. I have no fears for the ultimate happiness of my children (and this is no small comfort to me); but this persuasion does not diminish my anxiety for their immediate deliverance from the tyranny of vicious habits.

I really think that, upon the whole, it will be better to allow this correspondence to terminate while we are in a disposition to regard each other with feelings of complacency. I have witnessed many controversies in my time, and scarcely remember an instance in which the contending parties were led to alter their opinions. At a certain age this is nearly a hopeless expectation.

VOL. XIX.

I.

P

P.S. I cannot refrain from making one observation upon a passage in your last communication. You seem to think that the blessed spirits will have no wish for the deliverance of those who are tormented. Now, .I must beg you to recollect the saying of our Lord, that "there is more joy in heaven over one repentant sinner, than over ninety-nine just persons.' I know that an attempt has been made to make our Lord say, that there is more pleasure over one sinner that repents than over ninety-nine persons that are self-righteous; but this will not do. If our Lord had any such meaning, he surely could have expressed it as plainly as men of modern times. The context distinctly shews that he meant what he said, according to its literal sense. He has put this, in my humble opinion, beyond doubt, by the parables of the lost sheep, of the lost piece of silver, and of the prodigal son. In all these cases a temporary feeling of mind, perfectly natural, is alluded to; namely, an extraordinary feeling of pleasure attendant upon the recovery of that which was lost. If another sheep had strayed from the fold, or another piece of silver had been lost, or the eldest son had left his father's house, all pleasure from the possession of the remaining sheep, (the recovered one included,) and so far of the rest, would have been superseded by anxiety to recover the lost; and the delight consequent upon the recovery would have been the same in the subsequent as in the first case. The recovered good would have excited ninety-nine times the joy (for the time) derivable from the larger possession; and thus we are taught that the happiness of the blessed is capable of increase, by every addition that shall be made to the number from the ranks of sinners. A most reasonable and consolatory doctrine! Even Dives, bad as he was, had not lost all his philanthropy. He was most anxious for the welfare of his brethren, and so far from having a wish to see them tormented, he prayed that a miracle might be wrought to warn them of their danger. He wished that they might live so as to go to heaven. No wonder that Abraham recognized his relationship to a being, who, while writhing in acute pain, could bestow a thought upon