i 'i \ ■■■■■■■■■■■■ il ^H| i 1 II f I;'. 'Ijil 1 1. ^H i r 'I, ' ^ 'B: i'i[ :^t. Ittiili MUHIL y 9^'My BX 9869 .W5 A3 1845 v. 3 White, Joseph Blanco, 1775- 1841. The life of the Rev. Joseph Blanco White A THE LIFE OF THE REV. JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE, WRITTEN BY HIMSELF; PORTIONS OF HIS CORRESPONDENCE. EDITED BY JOHN HAMILTON THOM. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON: JOHN CHAPMAN, 121, NEWGATE STREET. M.DCCC.XLV. LONDON : RICHARD KINDER, PRINTER. GREEN ARBOUR CODRT, OLD BAILEY. CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME. PART 111.— (continued.) CHAPTER VIII. 1838. His contemplation of the probable events of the year ; his debility and helplessness ; decreasing hopes of usefulness ; the truce with es- tablished error even among inquiring men ; no chance for positive truth except from the course of Providence ; his thankfulness for the appointments of his own life, 3 — 4 ; Suabedissen's principles of philosophical religion, 5 ; his desire to control all impatience under suffering, 5 ; Letter to Mrs. , 5 ; Letter to Professor Powell, on his work on the Connections of Natural and Divine Truth, — Induction, Lord Bacon's, — Aristotle's ; Religion opposed to Science, because Science opposes Idol-worship, 6 — 7 ; Suabe- dissen ; Professor Powell, his work, his character ; confusion of thought among English writers on the connections of natural and revealed Religion ; the want of a due preparation of mental phi- losophy ; the study of the limits and applications of the mental faculties ; both external nature and the Bible appeal to some principle within our own minds ; that principle our leading guide; a philosophical Work wanted on the source of our knowledge re- specting God, 8 — 12; Mr. S. Martin, 12; the daily increase of his feverishness, 12 ; Dr. Woodward's statement, that God cannot prevent all evil, 13; the prospect of a day, 13 — 14; To , a3 ik '^^ IV CONTENTS. 14— 15 ; Letter to Miss L ; his health ; a Theological Jour- nal ; the difficulty of having a free school of theology in England ; German freedom in philosophy and theology ; the worldly and political influences affecting Religion in this country ; English respectability, 15 — 16; AUgemeine Krankenhaus, 16; Dr. Suther- land, 17; Saint Joseph's day ; entertainments in Spain; contrast between his recollections of the day and his present sufferings ; intimation of his approaching death, — Dr. Sutherland, Mr. Archer; the Moral world seen rightly only through the mind of a virtuous man, used as a lens ; seasons of affliction bring forth these Me- diators ; concealed generosity of Dr. and Mrs. Whately, 17—20 ; Letter to Mrs. , 21 ; hypochondriacal, 21 ; Letter to Mr. on removing to his house, 22—3 ; Letter to the Rev. J. H. Thorn, 23 — 4 ; Letter from Dr. Channing, — connection between inspira- tion and infallibleness ; even under miraculous aids man conforms to the laws of his own being ; heathen notions of inspiration ; the force of the external evidence of Christianity ; true faith, what it is, 25 — 7 ; mental sympathy, 27 ; Letter to Mrs. ; Portrait of Cowper in a cap, 27 — 8 ; Letter to Dr. Channing, — his health; the established theory of Revelation rests on a supposed necessity in man for certainty, and fails to give it ; he believes in more Revelation than most Divines ; the internal presence of God in the Soul ; Seneca ; his " Letter on the Law of Anti-Religious Libel ;" doubts on the theory of Revelation ; God his Saviour ; his testi- mony that he dies a Christian, 28 — 30 ; Letter to Mrs. , 30 — 31 ; Letter from Professor Norton, written under the expectation of hearing of his death, 31 ; to Professor Norton— his thankful- ness for his friendship ; his assurance of God's love ; his freedom from all theological fears, 31—32 ; his sixty- third birthday, 33 ; Letter from Dr. Channing, written after hearing unfavourable accounts of his health ; aspiration prophetic of a higher life ; ap- prehension lest his former letter may have excited him to injurious thought in his weakened state ; his desire to see Blanco White, a chief attraction to England, 33 — 34 ; testaments and wills, 34 ; the Queen's Bounty, 34 ; Mrs. Whately, 34 ; his lingering in the face of death ; his Son, 34 — 35 ; Socrates — escape from the evils of Old Age one of his supports in death ; Socrates as an Invalid ; Jesus, 35 — 36 ; trust in a Future Life, 36 ; aspiration considered as an argument for Immortality ; Personality ; true Virtue inde- pendent on future expectations, 36 — 38 ; Comfort as a measure of the truth of Doctrines, 39 ; a human being awaiting his dissolution with firmness, 40 ; Article on Bentham by Mr. John S.Mill, in the London Review ; the Constructive and the Destructive, 40 — 42 ; J CONTENTS. V the Misses Yates, 42 ; an English Sunday, 42 ; Cheerfulness in Illness, 43 ; his pet Canary, 44 ; Letter from Dr. Channing, ex- pressions of his interest in him ; derives strength from his testi- mony to Principles ; his own gratitude to God in times of illness ; the disproportion of our desires to our doings, a sign of destiny, 44 — 45 ; physical distress as opposed to distress in the shape of Thought, 45 — 46 ; projected Letter to the Unitarians, 46 ; ex- tract from Jouffroy ; his desire to conform to the will of God even in extreme suffering, 46 — 47 ; Sonnet on Night and Death, 48 ; a visit from his Son, 48 ; Letter to Mrs. , 49 ; Letter to Lord Holland, 50; his health; Marcus Antoninus, 51 ; Music as a re- source, 52 ; his Son, 52. CHAPTER IX. 1839. Retrospect of the year, and prospect for the next, 53 ; reading and music with his son, 54 ; his Note Book, 55 ; God's employment of human language for the purposes of a Revelation, 55 — 56 ; Geo- metrical figures, what, 56 ; Liverpool Unitarian Controversy ; a squib, 56 — 60 ; culmination of the verbal inspiration theory on the Plan of a Lexicon of the Greek New Testament, 60 — 61 ; his daily reading, 62 ; Chalybaus on German Philosophy from Kant to Hegel, 62 — 63 ; projected works against religious errors, 64 ; his son leaves him for India, 64 ; Letter to J , his son ; a new translation of Don Quixote ; a Life of Cervantes, 65 ; beliefs and priesthoods, 66; Letter to Dr. Channing, — his health, — Slavery, War, its redeeming features, its abolition, 6Q — 68 ; a projected tale. The Secret Diary of a Spanish Inquisitor, 69 ; his sixty-fourth birthday ; Keightley's Mythology ; the unchangeable character of ecclesiastical persecution 70 — 71 ; his son ; Michelet's History of France, — the Swan, — Redesdale, 71 — 72 ; Hallam's opinion of the copiousness and variety of the English Lan- guage ; its motleyness ; Latinisms ; its poverty shown by the difficulty of translating from the German ; its want of internal organization would facilitate the admission of new words, except for an extreme fastidiousness ; mental philosophy requires a tech- nical language ; Abstract words wanted in English ; the formation of them from adjectives ; subsume, 72 — 74 ; the want of a proper nomenclature one of the difficulties of mental philosophy in En- gland; the German nomenclature; the schoolmen, 74 — 76; VI CONTENTS. Fichte's Philosophy ; delight in the contemplation of the highest spiritual truths ; sacerdotal religions ; personal revelation ; man- kind designed for progress ; the first direction of the religious tendency is towards idolatry; the internal world the perennial fountain of good; mental philosophy, 76 — 80; a Letter on the Dangers of Ordination in Churches with endowed Articles of Faith, 80 — 90; Gieseler's Ecclesiastical History, 90 ; Degerando du Perfectionnement Moral, Liberty ; Free-will and Desire ; Con- science, 90 — 92 ; Gieseler's Church History, St. Boniface and Pope Gregory III ; lawful kinds of food, 92 — 93 ; Michelet's History of France, 93 ; expectation of having one of his nieces (Beck) from Seville, to reside with him, 93 ; Captain Curtain and the purchase-money for his son's company, 93 ; Lucian, 94 ; his health, 94 ; Lucian's Vera Historia, and Swift's Gulliver's Travels, 95 ; his violin, 95 ; Letter from Dr. Channing, popish explosion at Oxford ; Romanism, its foundations in our nature ; dread of innovation reacting against the spirit of reform ; ultra-conserva- tives exposed to fanaticism ; the necessity that a nobler form of Christianity should be preached ; Unitarianism ; whence is salva- tion to come ; War ; the courage of soldiers ; the sense of honour ; general unfaithfulness to Christian principles, 95 — 97 ; Lucian's account of Alexander the Pseudomantis, 98 — 99; Roman Philo- sophy in the 2nd century ; Aulus Gellius ; Cicero, — the question of deviation from right for the sake of a friend, 99 — 100; the in- crease of Roman Catholicism in England, 100 — 101 ; Mr. Beck (his cousin) 101 — 102; Dionysius of Halicarnassus, — Niches, or Chapels, in Spanish, — Retablos, to the Entrance — Heroes ; Chris- tian ceremonies derived from the ancients ; Heathen and Jewish Slavery, 102 — 104 ; Letter to Dr. Channing, his health, — imagi- nation in Religion ; the origin of the Oxford School of Theology ; Unitarianism, its alleged coldness ; his confidence in God, and hopes of great results from the Christianity he held, 104 — 108; Mrs. Whately, 108 ; writes in Spanish, 108 ; is visited by his niece, 109; Dr. Hawkins, 109 — 110; Letter from Professor Powell, the controversies of Oxford, — the importance of the pursuit of truth, 110 — 111 ; Letter to Professor Powell, 112 ; Abraham, as the representative of faithfulness to Conscience and Truth, 112 — 113 ; Mrs. Whately, 113 ; Letter from , Dr. Hampden and the Oxford Party, 113 — 114; Enthusiasm, what it is, 115— 118 ; Letter from Dr. Channing, — the province of Imagination in Religion ; Historical Christianity ; Supernaturalism ; the sacredness of Na- ture ; the Church of England ; Trinitarian Controversy in En- gland, 118 — 120 ; reply to Dr. Channing, on the province of CONTENTS. "VU Imagination in religion, 121 — 123; the assurance of hope as con- veyed by Doctrinal belief, and by the inward spirit of religion, 123 —124. CHAPTER X. Letter to the rev. J. H. Thom. {Reviewing his Religious History from 1826 to 1839.) The unfinished state of his Memoirs, 125 ; his Life at Oxford, the Oriel Common Room, 126 — 127 ; the ideal of a College, 128 ; Dr. Whately, Mr. Ogilvie, Dr. Cotton, 129; his want of sympathy with the governing -^d^xiy \xi the University, 129 — 130; the con- tested election of 1829, — the No Popery party, 130 — 131; the Puseyite party, John Henry Newman, 131 — 132; feels himself out of harmony with Oxford men ; Dr. Whately's removal to Dublin, 133; the workings of his mind on religious subjects, — the usual theory of revelation, inspiration, infallibility, 133 — 135 ; his vain attempts to ease the yoke of orthodoxy after the method of the less strict class of Churchmen, 137 ; Neander's History of Chris- tianity, 138 ; the development of his views. Letters on Heresy and Orthodoxy, 139 — 140; the Rev. George Armstrong, — correspond- ence with him, 141 — 142 ; that neither Jesus nor his Apostles intended to establish a system of abstract doctrines, 143 — 144 ; the Anglo-Catholic school, 145 — 146 ; his notion of true Chris- tianity, 146 — 156; Suabedissen, — hisviewsof Religion, 157 — 161. CHAPTER XL 1840. * Retrospect of last year, 163 ; the Poor Man's Preservative against Popery, the defects of that work, 163 — 164; a Parable, — Dr. Hawkins on the duty of Private Judgment, 164 — 165 ; the Fools and Clowns of Shakespeare, 166 — 170 ; Letter to Professor Powell, 171 ; Lines on the Queen's marriage, 172 ; the gloom of the pre- valent Christianity, 173 ; Letter to the Secretary of the Liverpool Anti-Slavery Society, 174 — 175 ; state of his health, 175 ; Letter to Miss L , truth not to be guaged by comfort, 175 — 176 ; the Rev. W. Bishop and Rowland Hill, 176 — 178; his suffering state, 178—180 ; Letter from Dr. Channing, 180—183 ; Professor Powell, 183 ; the perverting influence of dogmatic religion, 184 — VIU CONTENTS. 185 ; Salvador on the doctrine of Christ, 186 — 188 ; Letter to Dr. Channing, — Music, — Pain as viewed by the Mystics, — Spain, — Dr. Follen, 188—190; Journal, 190—192; Lamartine, 192—193; Prescott's Ferdinand and Isabella, 193 — 194 ; Letter from Dr. Channing, — Pain, — Goethe's correspondence with a child, — Music, — Don Quixote, 194—6 ; St. John xviii. 37, 38, 196 — 197 ; pro- poses to himself a History of the Inquisition, 197 — 199 ; his son's promotion, 199 ; Letter to Lord Holland, 200 — 201 ; Letter from Professor Norton, 201 — 202; removes to Lodgings in the neigh- bourhood of Liverpool, 202 ; the Scriptures in the hands of the Church, — Thomas Aquinas, 204 ; state of his health, 204 — 206 ; Letter to Professor Norton, — Historical evidence of Christianity, list of his writings, — postscript to Miss Norton, 207 — 209; Dr. Paulus, 209— 211 ; his sufferings, 212 ; death of Lord Holland, 212; Letters on occasion of, 213 — 216; Senior (N. W.) 216; the Rev. Henry Bishop, his offer of assistance, 217 ; Letter from Professor Powell, — the fable of the Church, — Lord Lyndhurst, 218 — 219; Letter to Professor Powell, 219— 220 ; Letter from Dr. Dickinson, Bishop of Meath, 220 ; Letter from Professor Norton, 221 — 222; preparations for death, 223 ; Letter to the Secretary of the African Civilization Society, 223 — 224; Letter to Professor Norton, — his religious convictions, — the workings of opinion upon different characters, 224 — 226 ; to Miss L , his health, dogmatic religion, 226 — 228 ; an instance of his considerate kind- ness, 229; close of the year 1840, 230. CHAPTER XIL The Rationalist A Kempis, or the Religious Sceptic in God's Presence. Thoughts written in 1840. L Meditation and Prayer, 231—234; II. The Evil One, 235—237; in. Free Will, 238 ; IV. Corruption of Human Nature, 239— 242 ; V. Revealed Writings, 243—249 ; VI. Disguised Selfish- ness supported by perverted Religion, 250 — 258 ; VII. Protes- tant Saving Faith, 259—261; VIII. Redemption, 262—267; IX. Spirituality, 268— 271; X. Humility, 272— 275 ; XL Prayer, 276—278; XII. Christian Morals, 279—283; XIIL Fear, 284 286 ; XIV. Death, 287—292. CONTENTS. IX CHAPTER XIII. 1841. A prayer, 293 ; his health, a voyage to Jamaica proposed, and aban- doned, 294; Mitchell's Aristophanes, Mr. J. H. Frere's ; Mitford's Greece, 294 — 295 ; his sufferings, and strivings for patience, 295 ; his Memoirs, 295 ; Abdy's Journal on the United States, 296 ; self command in illness, 296; the influence of Refinement on the decline of active kindness and hospitality in England, 297 ; Letter to Dr. Channing, — Slavery, Music, 298 — 299; expectation of death ; close of the Diary, 299. {Conclusion.) [His removal to Greenbank, near Liverpool, to the house of Mr. Rath- bone, 300 ; his state of mind in his last illness, 300 — 303 ; Letter to a Lady who urged the danger of his religious state, 303 — 304 ; Letter from Dr. Channing, — Slavery, — Ranke's History of the Popes, 304 — 307 ; Notes of an answer to Dr. Channing, 307 — 308; his sufferings ; some of his latest expressions ; his death, 308 — 310; Letter to the Editor from Dr. Channing on the death of Mr. White, 311—312.] APPENDIX. I. Genealogy of the family of Joseph Blanco White (see vol. i. p. 3) p. 314—316 II. Letters to Lord Holland, relating to the Semanario Patriotico, and the Espanol, between the years 1809—1813 317—339 III. Some Passages of his Diary in the years 1812—1819 340—365 IV. Sunday Letters to the Rev. J. H. Thom : — 1. The Memoirs of John Woolman, — the early Quakers 366—370 2. Education, and the Priesthood . . . 371 — 375 3. The mental rights of Infants . . . 375—378 4. Social Worship, and the relation of the Bible to Religion 378—383 5. The Gospels the best external support of the Religion of the Christ .... 383—387 X CONTENTS. 6. The two aspects of Religion, when considered as Truth, and as an Instrument of Go- vernment p. 387—392 7. The dependence of Christianity on Historical Documents 393—398 8. His Mental Identity from his earliest years ; Faith as the product of Reason or of Imagina- tion 399—403 9. English Presbyterianism; religious Associations 403 — 414 10. The Child's Book on the Soul . . . 414—422 11. The Zeal of Fanatics 423—427 12. Idolatry 427—432 13. Superstition, its Etymology . . . 433 — 435 V. Plain Dialogues on Religious Subjects. (Commenced with the view of recalling some parts of the Poor Man's Preservative against Popery.) . . 436 — 456 VI. Merub, or the Mark on the Forehead, a Tale . . 457 A List of the Writings of Blanco White. . . . 467 ERRATUM. Page 16, 3rd line from bottom, for Krankerhause, read Krankenhaus. PART III [Continued.] VOL. III. JB AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE. CHAPTER VIII. EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS AND CORRESPONDENCE. 1838.— ^tat. 63. January 1st. I HAVE a Hope that this will be the last Year of my Life : to wish it otherwise would be extreme imbe- cility. I cannot expect any sound Improvement in my Health. The Slow Fever which lias uninterrupt- edly been upon me for more than twenty Days, must proceed from a total derangement in the biliary Organs, which, though it will not kill me, must in- crease my general Debility and Helplessness. Every Year must deprive me of some remnant of Activity. My Solitude, combined with the Necessity of being idle, renders my Life intolerable. All Hopes of Usefulness have died in me. Bitter indeed has been B 2 4} EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS the Disappointment wliicli the clear Perception of some men^s Minds — men in whose Love of Truth I trusted, has brought to my Soul. All have made their Peace, at least a long Truce, with established Error. They are miserably afraid of following it up to its Sources. What chance then is left for posi- tive Truth ? None on the part of Man^s honest Exertions. The Course of Things will probably shake these monstrous Structures of Superstition by indi- rect means ; but till that Crisis arrives, even the most clear-sighted men are agreed to let them he undisturbed, except when some external Advantage may be snatched out of the Hands of those who manage the Interest of the grand Delusion, by Law established. Yet, in spite of this Despondency, I do not wish that my own course had been different. I have la- boured in vain, but I have laboured in the Field of Truth : my Wages have been Pain and Misery, but I love them infinitely above the Wages of Dis- honesty. I thank God that I have been able to endure so much for that which is and must be eter- nally true. Let the Grave close over my Sufferings, my Weaknesses, my involuntary Errors. I feel that Death will give a sort of Consecration to my imperfect Efforts. This is a most consoling Antici- pation, AND CORRESPONDENCE. O Jan. 7. Very unwell. Some observations of Suabedissen in his Principles of Philosophical Religion gave a religious direction to my thoughts, especially in con- nection with my present state. The Book con- tinued the whole day to assist me more or less, and my feelings of Resignation and Confidence were strengthened. Jan. 21st. I can hardly control my impatience. But I wish to keep steady to the Principle of Trust and Hope. To Mrs. . Feb. 6th, 1838. My very dear Friend, I cannot satisfy myself by merely sending a verbal ac- knowledgment of your most valuable Present. In spite of the most tormenting Cough I will prepare a few lines before I go to Bed ; for in the morning I am not capable of any Effort. Every circumstance which could make the gift not only valuable but dear lo me "has been combined by your kindness. I can assure you I never possessed more interesting Keepsakes. My ardent Prayers for your Happiness, now inseparable from that of my most kind and dear Friend, your Hus- band, will incessantly be addressed to the Supreme Fountain of Life, and Goodness, and Love. Yours ever gratefully and affectionately, J. Blanco White. 6 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS To Professor Powell. Liverpool, Feb. 10th, 1838. My dear B. Powell, The first use I have made of my returning power of close attention has been to read your work, for a copy of which I wish you to accept my thanks. I have derived much pleasure and instruction from it. It is written in a most excellent spirit, and shows in every page a perfect acquaint- ance with natural philosophy, and the whole circle of science. The examples are luminous, and the style so clear that it requires only common attention in the unscientific reader to follow the argument through every division of the subject. You have very clearly shown the nature of the argument of Induction, upon which great uncertainty and obscurity pre- vails among many. Induction has generally been consi- dered as something invented by Lord Bacon. I think it unfortunate that he used that word, taken from the then powerless Aristotelian language. I have examined most of the passages in which Aristotle speaks of the iirayo}'))), espe- cially comparing those in the Analytics with one in the 2nd or 3rd chapter of the Rhetoric, and it is clear to me that he uses that word vaguely. The prominent sense he gives it — that in which the common logics use it, arises from the superficial view of its contrast with the syllogism, whence the conclusion follows from two Universals, one of which is embraced by the other. The Induction Zih irdvTcov, is mentioned merely as the counterpart of the logical uni- versal, in which what is asserted of the whole is asserted of each individual contained in it. But Aristotle himself knew that the attempt to make out a universal from the ex- amination of every individual is impossible. He uses the word iTraywyr) in a loose sense, merely in opposition to syllo- gism, and when the argument cannot proceed by Media : in AND CORRESPONDENCE. 7 a word. Induction, in the language of the Aristotelian logic, means, though imperfectly and without the slightest know- ledge of the subject, experimental, practical proof. Lord Bacon, 1 believe, took it up in this sense, but by a won- derful effort of genius discovered the principal conditions which could give validity to experiment and observation, so that even one well- ascertained fact shall be the foundation, not of a logical universal, but of the belief in a universal law of Nature. You have explained and illustrated this subject most satisfactorily. The enemies of science will be furious against you. It is in vain that we argue with them. The root of the evil lies very deep. It is my settled persuasion that most people who think they believe in God believe in an Idol. You give an excellent hint upon this at p. 156. Science opposes this idol- worship : it does not allow a belief in an extra- mundane God, who appears, like a clock-maker, setting now and then his own machinery to rights. But I am plunging into too deep a subject, when the paper is nearly full. Tell Mrs. B. Powell that I wish her to consider this letter as a certificate that I am getting back into my old routine of health, if it deserves that name. I trust that if the weather continues tolerably mild, this severe attack will have left scarcely any trace of additional suffering in the course of ten days or a fortnight. Believe me, with sincere esteem and friendship, my dear B. Powell, Yours ever truly, J. Blanco White. Feb. 11th. Mucli better. My legs continue swelled, but I have had some appetite. Reading, but without any 8 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS particular object, except in Suabadissen, to impress myself with his excellent views of Religion. Nobody to see me. February 14th. Having very lately read Professor PowelFs Work On the Connection of Natural and Revealed Truth,^ where various new English Writers on Subjects which involve this Question are quoted, I was struck with the confusion of Thought which all of them betray. Yet some of these Writers exhibit great Acuteness, and can urge a Fallacy with prodigious Power. Enthusiasm, I am convinced, is generally the source of this irregular, feverish Activity ; but there is still another cause of these clever Aberra- tions. In this country, it may be safely affirmed, not ONE Mind applies itself to the Study of Religion with a due preparation by means of mental Philo- sophy. Even those who devote some Attention to Logic — that (as it is studied) rather barren Branch * I take this opportunity of recording my great regard for Professor Powell as a friend, and my high estimate of his talents and knowledge as a man of Science and Literature. He has never given way to that most formidable party at Oxford, whose enmity against all enlightened views wreaked itself against Dr. Hampden, when he was appointed Regius Professor of Divinity. Professor Powell stood by his persecuted friend, with the greatest firmness. He never has disguised his opi- nions, or shrunk from declaring them, even when his vote had no one to support it against a numerous Convocation. I believe this hap- pened upon the question of the admission of Dissenters to the Univer- sity. But I fear my praise may be turned against him. — J. B. W. Aug. 24th, 1839. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 9 of Science, turn away from it before what is unques- tionably useful in the common Dialectics has incor- porated itself with the other stores of their Mind. But there is another study still more necessary than Logic, for the acquisition of sound religious Knowledge, of which there is scarcely a Notion among the British Divines — I mean the Study of the Sources, Limits, and Application of the mental Facul- ties, according to their primitive, essential Nature. The absence of such acquaintance with our Facul- ties, the total inattention to the Number, Nature, and Extent of the Capacities given to us for know- ledge— not in a confused Mass, but naturally distri- butable into compartments, which have a reference to our various mental Powers — this ignorance of what should be the Foundation of all regular Instruction, shows itself in almost every page of the theological writings which daily multiply among us. There is to me, a most striking Uesult of this Ig- norance of our own spiritual self in the blind-man^s buff Debate, which is carried on between those who contend that we must go to the Bible if we are to have any knowledge of God, and those who, certainly much more rationally, though not quite correctly, insist that Natural Theology must prove to us the Existence and Attributes of God, before we can derive Instruction from Revelation. I wish it to be clearly understood that I do not place these two Par- ties on the same intellectual or philosophical level. I am persuaded that the Study of Nature, by itself j B 5 10 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS does not lead to the Acknowledgment of the Deity ; but I am on the other hand convinced that this Study^ assisted, however unconsciously to the Ob- server, by the light of that Rationality of which the simple, yet sublime Principles are most easily deve- loped in Man, will certainly lead to God. — The Point of comparison between the two parties is this : that neither of them can see, that for the correction of the imperfect, and not unfrequently monstrous Notions of God, which their respective favourite Sources — especially the Bible — give them, they must have re- course to something which is neither external Nature, nor the Bible. Now it is practically obvious that both apply to some Principle within their own Minds. To me it is clear, that if they were well acquainted with their spiritual Self, — the invisible World within them — if they had begun their philosophical and theological Studies by examining What is in Man, they would not have involved themselves in this unmeaning controversy. Experience, and Common Sense, however, might teach them that the Principle, which enables both of them to perceive and to correct the Notions of God which they derive from what they call Nature and Revelation, should take the Lead of all other Guides. " God has spoken to me,^' says some primitive Sage to his People, whom, on the hypothesis that Revela- tion alone can lead to the Deity, we must- suppose totally ignorant of both the Word and Notion about to be introduced by the Prophet. — " What do you AND CORRESPONDENCE. 11 mean by God ? " might answer some shrewd Thinker among them. — This Question would be re-echoed by every one not already subdued by hierarchical Autho- rity : and most naturally, for how is it possible that Words can convey to men any Notion to which there is nothing analogous in their own Minds ? But let us imagine that the Sage was allowed to proceed, and that he delivered some Doctrine or Statement, as from God. — " God,^' he would say, " told me so and so.^^ " I do not like your Message" (might the Objector reply) : I think the Being, whom you call God, has deceived you." — " Impossible ! " would the Prophet retort : — " God cannot lie." In- deed, as men are constituted, the majority of the Assembly would applaud an Answer, which, in all ages, will be approved by the Wise and Good. — The Answer then is true ; but w^hence does it derive its Power? Surely not from Bevelation — for that is the very Question — whether the God that is supposed to speak can deceive. If Revelation is the only Source of our Knowledge of Him, we can know nothing of his character when he begins to address any Man in human Language. The invisible or falsely visible speaker (for in whatever Shape he might show him- self, the Image employed would be already a gross Misrepresentation) — the floating Voice might come from some wicked Agent unknown to us. Never- theless^ let us once grant that God speaks, and the unanimous sense of mankind is, that he speaks the Truth, that He cannot deceive. 12 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS There is then a Source of Knowledge respecting God, which is not only independent of the Method of Instruction called Revelation, but appears to exist in all Men. It is this source then which all thinking Men should endeavour to trace up to the very Dawn of spiritual, i. e. rational Life in Man ; carefully ob- serving its phenomenal Exhibitions, and anxiously separating what in it is primitive and universal, from what is accidental and individual. A truly philoso- phical Work on this most important Point — this Foundation of true Religion — is very much wanted in England. Feb. 18th. Mr. Studely Martin, — to whom I gave a little He- rodotus, with a Latin inscription, expressive of my Thanks for his kindness, especially during this last illness. Feb. 22nd. I have lately observed that the increase of the constant feverishness which has been upon me since the 19th Dec, has taken place somewhat later every night. For the last three days T observe that the pulse is quicker just about ten o'clock when I leave my dressing-room. To-day I find it going at the rate of one hundred and twenty. It is true, I have had no rest. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 13 Same day. Dr. Woodward (I believe that is the name) asserts in his printed Sermons, that God cannot prevent «Z/ Evil : I speak upon Professor PowelFs authority as to the Fact. — This View may raise very pious feelings in Dr. Woodward and his Hearers, and prevent their being angry with God, as very pious People are apt to be. But it is demonstrable that such a Being as Dr. Woodward worships, is not God. It may be a Jupiter Opt. Maw, subject to Fate, but God, the Supreme, he is not. The original Idea of God is inseparable from that of Unlimitedness. Man is conscious of his own limited Existence, and, with- out the necessity of a Logical inference, perceives, in his own Limitation, the Existence of the Unlimited that limits him. Dr. W.'s God must be limited in regard to his Power over Evil, by one greater than He. That limiting-Unlimited is God. If Dr. W. does not perceive the force of this Demonstration, he is incapable of abstract philosophical Reasoning. March 4th. The Prospect of my Day, under this long Illness : — Here I am, at half-past 10, a. m., having forced a cup of coffee and a few pieces of toast down my throat, looking about for means to pass away the Day. — Books ? — their Power over me is gone for the present. Exhausted by a succession of sleepless Nights, which are for the most part past in violent 14! EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS coughing, obliged to take rather strong Doses of Opiate for the chance of some Rest, as the Day- comes on, but disappointed even of this, by the regular symptoms of my habitual bowel complaint, which begin about that time, my pulse rises to 120, my head feels full and hot, all my limbs, especially my swollen legs, refuse me ready service. But the most harrassing symptom is that of an unconquer- able drowsiness, which seizes me minute after mi- nute in the very act of exerting myself to check it. It would be fortunate if I could lie down on the Sofa and make up for the wake of the night ; but the moment I lose myself in sleep, a panting seizes me, and gives me the sense of choking. — (It has come upon me just as I wrote the last Word of the last Sentence.) In this miserable struggle must I pass the time between this and that of going to bed, and then begin the incessant coughing which harrasses me for three or four hours at least, awaking me afterwards (if I fall asleep) every half hour. — And yet there are People who wish me to live on in this State ! To ■. March 7th. My dear Friend, Neither the exhaustion nor, what is worse, the irritation which a most distracting night has occasioned, shall prevent my sending a line of acknowledgment . But I cannot address my thanks to you alone. You have it not in your AND CORRESPONDENCE. 15 power to do any act of benevolence, in which another shall not have had some share either of activity or suggestion. Yours affectionately, J. B. W. To Miss L- Liverpool, March 10th, 1838. My dear Miss L , Though I am reduced to a state of aggravated suffering, which makes both reading and writing difficult and fatiguing to me, I will not allow your kind Letter to lie unacknow- ledged for a long time. Ever since the 19th Dec. last, when I was seized with Fever, Fainting, and a variety of troublesome Symptoms, I have not had one day of tolerable health, and, what is worse, not a night of even middling repose. A harrassing cough keeps me awake from hour to hour, in spite of strong doses of Opium. I cannot read in the Day-Time, because both a morbid want of interest and attention, and an overwhelming drowsiness, prevent my following whither the Author would lead me. In a Word, my Days are employed in pure endurance of Pain and Dejection. Even walking across the Room requires a considerable Effort. But I think that as the Spring comes on, I shall fall again into the miserable State in which I have been since I had the Influenza the Winter before last ; a long Period of absolute confinement to my Rooms, but which, compared with the present, might be called one of Health. I have not yet heard anything that can justify the expec- tation of a Theological Journal in Liverpool. But even if the external Arrangements were ever so satisfactorily made, I should doubt the success of the Undertaking. I see no possibility of an agreement between the Contributors, much less among the Subscribers, as to certain vital Points ; 16 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS such, for instance, as the Question of Inspiration. Bv Agreement I mean, the Toleration of unHuiited Freedom in that Inquiry : there is, on the one hand, too much Super- stition ; on the other, too much Fear of pubhc Opinion. England, I fear, will never have a free theological School. I hope when you go to Germany you will have Opportuni- ties of consulting the truly enlightened and independent Men who fearlessly oppose the Mass of superstitious old- Womanish Pietism, which Alarm has collected together in that Country. What you chiefly want is to be directed to the leading Works both in Philosophy and Theology. You will be surprised to find that even the most bigoted Ger- mans do not venture to support Theories which in England are still regarded as the Basis of Christianity. Such is the effect of free and frequent Discussion, in the total absence of the worldly and political Influences which affect every thing in England. One hundred a Year, probably much less, make an independent Man in Germany ; the artificial necessity of having five tim.es that Income, to begin Re- spectability in England, makes Independence a Name. I feel very much fatigued, and must take leave of you. Believe me, ever yours sincerely, J. Blanco White. March 11, 1838. No rest : hardly able to read, owing to the drow- siness and shortness of breath. The thought of going to Hamburgh, and taking a room among the gentlemen in the famous Allgemeine Krankerhause, occurred to me this morning as practicable, with Ferdinand^s assistance during the passage. « 4 AND CORRESPONDENCE. 17 Marcli 12tli. Dr. Sutherland came^ and encouraged my idea of getting to Hamburgh, but showed the necessity of subduing the dropsical swelling before I can set out. The vehement desire which I feel to quit this solitary prison subdued my reluctance to medicine. March 19th. Very unwell. I am glad that I now think I am fairly in my last stage of life : sooner or later, the end cannot be distant. The recollection that on this day it is full three months since this severe illness attacked me, made me remark that this very day, all the time I lived in Spain, used to bring about an annual feast at my father's house. The 19th of March is, in the Ro- man Catholic Church, dedicated to Joseph, the hus- band of Mary, the mother of Jesus. Those who, like myself, bear the same name, keep it as their Sainfs day. Their friends, and even persons who are not in the habit of frequently meeting, call at the door, inside of which there is a table, upon which they leave their cards, or write their names on a sheet of paper laid upon it for that purpose. Asking to dinner is very rare in Spain, except on such occa- sions, when those who can afford it ask a large party, which generally become very riotous and noisy when 18 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS the wine has gone round several times. The truth is, that the object of such dinners is not so much to eat, as to be merry. Even my father forgot some part of his severe ascetism, and had a joke for the company. It may be easily conceived with what effect it would come from a man who, from one end of the year to the other, never entered into any sort of conversation except upon business. The contrast between these recollections and my state of suffering on this very day, could not easily be overlooked, when once it arose before the mind. But, thank God, though such remembrances can never be indifferent to me, I have, both theoretically and practically, raised myself above the childish emotions which arise from an indulged feeling of repining against the primitive Laws of our Being. People wish that Nature stood still for their sakes. So far am I from making these recollections the subject of a sentimental tragedy, that the circum- stance of my having convinced Dr. Sutherland this morning that my dropsy must be left to itself, and that, owing to the old complaint in my bowels, all active remedies would only increase my misery, is a source of satisfaction to me ; and if I believed in days and seasons, I should be inclined to think that Providence had chosen this particular day, to give me in it the most distinct intimation (though it is far from being as distinct as I wish) of approaching death, which I have ever received. It is true that you cannot persuade the physicians that such intima- AND CORRESPONDENCE. 19 tions may be welcome ; it is also true that in a com- plication of diseases, such as I suffer from, they can- not form a deliberate opinion in regard to the issue, and are naturally averse to anticipate what people call the worst. But in spite of all this, I cannot but perceive that even Mr. Archer, who is naturally san- guine, thinks my case not free from danger. To me it would be the greatest satisfaction, if I had a moral certainty of my approaching End ; otherwise every little appearance of improvement alarms me. This is a simple fact. Such appearances affect me as a foaming, retiring wave does the wrecked mariner who is just laying hold of a projecting rock on the shore. There is another circumstance which casts a gleam of cheerfulness over the impressions of this day. The Moral World presents, upon the whole, a most hideous and distorted appearance. But the experi- ence of my reflecting life has shown me that it hap- pens here, as in some pictures, which, looked at with the naked eye, are a perfect mass of confusion, but which show regularity, and even beauty, the moment you look through a lens, constructed on purpose to unite the scattered lines in a proper focus. My favourite lens is a virtuous man : it brings into har- mony the discordant parts of the moral world. And it is seldom, if ever, that seasons of affliction do not bring forward some of these mediators between God and man — these soothers of the afflicted and per- plexed Soul. For where do they come from ? Who 20 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS sends them on these missions of mercy ? Can it be any other but that Power against which the sufferer is tempted to repine ? Hard indeed and obstinate must have been my heart, if the free and unaffected exhi- bition of Dr. Sutherland's benevolence and disinte- rested kindness had not reconciled me to sufferings, without which he probably would have remained to me only a pleasant acquaintance. Again that excellent man, Mr. Archer, has ap- peared in all his native worthiness, under circum- stances which might have fretted the temper of a less goodnatured and candid man. Nothing can ex- ceed his openness, good temper, and kindness. These are some of the pleasures and advantages which, in the midst of gloom and suffering, this, probably my last, 19th of March has brought to me. P.S. I forgot to mention that Dr. Sutherland brought me a message from a person or persons whom he was not at liberty to mention,* entreating me not to forego, from fear of expense, any thing which I might reasonably wish for. I returned my most cordial thanks, with the assurance that at pre- sent I have sufficient for my expenses. God will certainly reward disinterested generosity. * I have strong reasons to believe that this offer came from Dr, and Mrs. Whately.—Aug. 18, 1839. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 21 To Mrs. . March 29th, 1838. My dear Mrs. , I think it is ki a great degree worth the while to be in suffering, since it occasions such displays of kindness as I enjoy from you and all yours. At all events, it is a wise and merciful arrangement of Providence, that the wants and afflictions of some individuals are thus relieved by the sympathy of the good and friendly. Many, many thanks for the tea, which is like a bouquet of violets. You can hardly think what satisfaction it gives me to be present to your mind and that of your husband, when other- wise you might be tempted to break the spell which is to secure your knowledge of German. Such an influence is to me the highest reward of true friendship. Yours ever affectionately, J. Blanco White. P.S. You may be sure that I shall always be glad to see you : I only fear that when I am in such pain as makes me unable to suppress groaning, it may be too painful for you to be present. April 3rd. A wretched morning. Mr. called, and, de- claring that I looked very well, made me talk an hour and a half, giving me to understand that much of my illness arose from the Imagination. April 9th. A day happy to me in the open declaration I have heard, that the people who come near me are con- vinced I cannot recover. Mr. proposed my 22 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS removing to his house. I answered that I would do so, when I had a strong probability of not giving trouble for a long time. To 22, Upper Stanhope-street, April 11th, 1838. My dear Friend, At the Height of the Distress which I have lately suf- fered, something whispered that it was impossible I should be left to make a Wreck of my Intellect in that Storm : and now I see (can I be mistaken ?) that in the wise Order of Events, the greatest and most seasonable Blessings have been connected with the close of my painful Life. I thought the World did not contain a Nook where I might tran- quilly wait for my Dissolution, supported by the Love of those whom no human Being can exceed, both in kindness, and in that most important Self-Denial, and willingness to submit to disturbing little Troubles, without which kind- ness is but a barren Sentiment. And yet I can hardly think it true that you wish to give me up a part of your House, where I may see the Face of true Friends, some- what in an habitual way, and be spared the horrible feeling of coming Solitude, the moment you close the Door after one of your frequent calls, — calls, indeed, which cost you a great deal of Trouble, and which, nevertheless, must leave the essential, incurable Evil of my Forlornness almost untouched. Well then, not to be prosy. — Dr. Sutherland called soon after I saw you, in the afternoon of yesterday. 1 mentioned our conversation, and earnestly requested that when he saw the End approaching, he might plainly tell me, in order that I might be removed to your House. But you know his manner : he would have me go without AND CORRESPONDENCE. 23 Delay. " You have (these are nearly his words) a mortal Disease which, at your Age and in your circumstances, must sooner or later end fatally." This Declaration did me more good than I can express ; yet the Pleasure was con- siderably damped by his adding, that I might have con- siderable temporary improvements of Health. I did not press for a more explicit Declaration, but it appears to me plain that the circumstances of the case do not admit any probable Chance of my getting through next winter, should I live to encounter the first Season of Frosts and Catarrhs. This is a Point of great importance in regard to my Reso- lution. As to the Details of the execution, we might easily talk them over. To my Imagination and Heart it holds out so many collateral Attractions, that I require all my severe Philosophy to keep the alluring Fire-flies of that treacherous Faculty from settling in swarms even in the consecrated portions of the Mind.* How, how can I requite your Friendship, my dear Friends ? To the Rev. J. H. Thorn. 22, Upper Stanhope-street, April 21st, 1838. My very dear Friend, I have so long and so earnestly set my Heart upon seeing you in actual possession of my little Collection of Books, (for Library is too ambitious a Name in this case,) that, whenever, as it now and then happens, I have any reason to conceive that certain Symptoms indicate a suf- ficiently destructive character to put an end to this most harrassing and lingering state of hopeless suffering, the first thing that occurs to me is the wish to see mv Books in '& [* The fear of being a source of constant anxiety to his friends took strong possession of him the very day this Letter was written, and withstood all persuasions.] 24 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS your Possession. I had, long since, bequeathed them to you in my Will, but I dislil^e this method in the trans- ference of a small portion of Property in which my Heart, not my Purse, is concerned. The Books, all and every one of them, are yours : you will do me the greatest kindness by accepting them unconditionally, and without ever think- ing that any living being has ever had a ground for expecting to succeed in the Possession of them. My nearest Relations are incapable of an interested feeling upon this subject ; and they know besides that even in point of Equity, I could not charge you with the long, tedious, and laborious business of preparing an Edition of such Works of mine as may be wanted after my Decease, without giving you a share in the copyright. My son, therefore, to whom I leave that copyright, will after all consider himself under a high obligation to you, not only because you accepted the laborious commission without the remotest idea of some kind of honorary return for your time and labour, but because by your acceptance of a gift of pure kindness from me, you will relieve hira from a sense of encroach- ment upon your valuable Time and Industry, which he could not but endeavour to relieve by some acknowledg- ment of that indispensable fatigue, and anxiety, which alone can give to my Works, printed and in MS., any pe- cuniary Value. Excuse my entering into these Details, but I wish, once for all, to remove every scruple from your Mind. Let me then enjoy the great Pleasure of seeing the Books removed to your House. Grant me this Favour fully ^wdi freely, and you will thereby procure for me another lasting sense of Happiness, besides the many which have arisen to me from your Friendship. Yours ever affectionately, J. Blanco White. P. S. — I perceive how weak my Head is by the many blunders which I found upon reading this Letter. But I must send it as it is. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 25 From Dr. Charming. Boston, May 4th, 1838. My dear Sir, Your last letter, which I received in January, deserved an earlier answer, for it overflowed with the kindest feeling; but, like yourself, I have suffered for some time from indis- position, which has taken away my energies, so that it is an effort to put even these few lines on paper. I have wanted to write you the more, because Mr. Ripley has put into my hands your long letter, and this started a thousand thoughts which I wished to communicate. How much it would gratify me to visit you, and to receive your views from your own lips. — I found that I differed from many of the opinions you expressed to Mr. R. I do not see the necessary con- nection between inspiration and infallibleness. Inspiration is but one of many methods of teaching, and a method which does not at all subvert the principles of our nature ; and this nature is imperfect, erring, incapable of compre- hending any truth thoroughly, unable to comprehend moral truth beyond its own degree of purity, and compelled, if I may so say, by the law of mental association, to blend its errors with the better views it has attained. Man may learn much under God's ordinary and extraordinary modes of instruction ; but the history of the apostles, under Christ's teaching, shows us that under the happiest auspices, under miraculous aids, man still conforms to the laws of his pre- sent infant stage of being. — The notion has been, that the infallibleness of the apostles was necessary in order to the protection of their converts from error. But this protec- tion is an impossible thing, and cannot therefore be the end of divine arrangement. No teacher can secure his pupils from error, can impart his mind perfectly to others. Our reception of the thoughts of a higher mind must be pro- portioned to our capacity, our pre-conceptions, our moral progress. The very circumstance, that men are taught by VOL. III. C 26 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS words, makes a mixture of error necessary, for different ideas are more or less associated with words, in different minds. How little did Christ's disciples understand him, whilst he was with them ; and were the apostles able to protect their converts from error ? How immediately was Christianity obscured by the Jewish and Heathen notions of its first professors. Undoubtedly inspiration, as well as out- ward means, may communicate most precious light — but are we obliged to think the light unmixed with darkness } I apprehend much error has arisen from heathen notions of inspiration, as if it transported a man beyond himself, sus- pended his faculties, &c. This is not only at war with rea- son, but contradicted by the New Testament. — So the value of inspiration to the recipient has been exaggerated, as if it made him more than mortal. To me, it seems a higher act to arrive at a great truth through the development of our own rational and moral nature, than to be taught this truth authoritatively by another. These are very hasty sugges- tions— but I think they will meet some of your difficulties. As to your objection, that men cannot be commanded to be- lieve Christianity, on the ground of external evidence, I reply that such evidence alone is not the ground on which belief should be founded. I will only add, that you seem to make faith too much an intellectual exercise, an assent to propo- sitions. I regard it much more as a spiritual aspiration, a thirst for perfection, a trust in Christ as commissioned by God to guide us to perfection, to inward, moral, celestial and eternal life. I can add no more : let me only ask, if there is not an important difference of opinion between the letter to Mr. Ripley, and " the Law of Libel re-considered." Will you allow me to say, that I was pained by the thought, that you might lose some of the supports and strength which we especially need as we approach the end of life. You will say, that we must think oi truth alone — but are we not to see one impress of truth on doctrines, in their adaptation to the highest wants of our nature ? I write in great haste. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 27 and from an impulse which I know you will appreciate. It will give me great pleasure to hear that you are gaining strength, and able still to employ your powers for your own enjoyment, and the good of your fellow-beings. — On look- ing over my letter, I feel how imperfect it is — but such is my confidence in you, that I send it, for I know not when I can write another. Very respectfully, Your sincere friend, W. E. Channing. June 4th, 1838. Is there no sympathy in mental Freedom ? Does not the Heart burn within me, when I meet with a man devoted to the purest interests of Keason? — It does indeed with an enthusiastic vehemence. Here is an American Unitarian, a Minister at Boston, who has brought me letters from Mr. Ripley, and who laments that I am not able to see him ; who assures me of the esteem of many who, more or less, devote themselves to the pursuit of Truth. His note brings warmer tears into my eyes, than ever the Methodisti- cal twang drew into those of the Members of the most enthusiastic sect. To Mrs. . June 11th, 1838. My dear As I suppose Mr. must have already gone out on charity visits, I must trouble you with the request, that if you have any edition of Cowper's Poems with his Portrait, c 2 SB EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS representing him in an old-fashioned cap, very common when all the world wore wigs, you will send me the volume containing that portrait. The general irritability of my skin extends to my head, in consequence of which I have had it shaved this very morning, and want to try to make a person, whose needle I employ, understand what sort of cap I want. I lament the disappearance of that neat, simple, venerable cap. But old men are grown fops. I am weaker every day, but there seems to be no end to this loss of strength. Yours, my dear , most affectionately, J. Blanco White. To Dr. Channing. Liverpool, June 13th, 1838. My dear Sir, Your Letter of May 4th reached me yesterday through Mr. Martineau. Were it not for the high reverence and great interest which I feel in regard to you, T should not think of taking pen in hand, in my present wretched state. I am entirely deprived of the use of my lower limbs, and the swelling of the dropsy in the larger cavities threaten to choke me. But I must clear up one or two important points which I fear you have not seen in the light which I intended in my Letter to Mr. Ripley. My Argument is not directly against Revelation, but against the established universal Theory of Revelation. In that Theory the basis of the whole consists in the necessity which man is sup- posed to have of an ultimate certainty. Now, I demonstrate that such a certainty is not producible by any of the con- trivances of the Churches or Priesthoods : the Theory there- AND CORRESPONDENCE. 29 fore must be false. Revelation and Infallibility have been, and are, universally connected, for upon this connection, and the supposition that to be right on certain points is necessary for Salvation, depends the force of the popular Argument. Now, is it possible that God should leave Mankind without a final, immoveable ground to stand upon ? This is the drift of my Argument. On the other hand, I believe in more Revelation than most Divines. I believe in the internal presence of God in the sanctuary of the Soul. I take — nav, I know — that Presence to be active and real. That Oracle is the source of every Truth, of every Virtue in Man. Seneca has expressed this fact with more force and clearness than any Christian writer : — Sacer intra nos spiritus sedet, malorum bonorumque nostrorum observator et custos ; hie, prout a nobis tractatus est, ita nos ipse tractat. I could quote still finer passages from the Emperor Marcus Antoninus, but my strength fails me. You allude to a passage in my Letter on Anti- Religious Libel which opposes the view of Revelation, which you conceive I gave in my Letter to Mr. Ripley. Alas ! my dear Sir, considering the mental wilderness through which I have travelled, it is to me surprising that the bearings of my Map are still tolerably consistent. The History of my doubts on the Theory of Revelation is in my MS. Memoirs. That subject was the occasion of my first anxiety and disappointment on my joining the Church of England. Incapable of yielding where conviction does not take me by the hand, yet it is impossible to conceive how ray Heart has always yearned after conformity with those whom I loved and valued. Hence the bursts which now and then appear in my writings, bearing the stamp and tone of certain religious views, which at that moment I thought I had reconciled with right Reason. The one j'^ou allude to was among the last. The substance, indeed, of that view remains within me; but not the form. I live and move, and have my being in God. Supported by this ulti- 30 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS mate conviction, this result of my life, I await approaching Death with tranquillity, insensible to the clamour of Di- vines, who prescribe a Method of Salvation. God is ray Saviour : in Him I fully trust. There is almost a moral certainty that this will be my last to you, and that it will not be followed by many to others. I beg you, therefore, to bear me witness that I die a Christian, because I am convinced that God has granted me the Spirit of Christianity : that I die a Unitarian, because I consider the spirit of our Body nearer to the spirit of Christianity, than that of any other Denomination. I trust that the Unitarians, especially in America, are des- tined by Providence to give the final blow to the super- stition which still clings to, and degrades the Gospel. May God preserve your strength many years to be a Leader in this great Work. I am, with most sincere Esteem and Friendship, My dear Sir, faithfully yours, J. Blanco White. To Mrs. June 15th, 1838. Mv dear You will not say that I do not treat you with all the confidence in your afi'ection which a Father might have. Your linen cap pleases me so much, that I enclose it for the purpose that you will make me another like it. I will not apologise ; for you have spoilt me. Have the goodness to give the two enclosed Letters to your husband, and desire him in my name, when he has read them, to seal mine, and forward it. I quite forgot them yesterday, though I had them before me ; but the musical (now unmusical) Box had put every thing else out AND CORRESPONDENCE. 31 of my head, and the Dublin business was, as indeed it is still, eating- into my heart. May Heaven preserve your feeling soul from such trials. Yours most affectionately, J. Blanco White. From Professor Norton. Cambridge, June 15th, 1838. My dear Friend, A Letter which I received yesterday from Miss Park makes me fear that this may never reach you. I write it with deep feeling, as a solemn and affectionate farewell to one whose life has been devoted to a constant struggle in the cause of truth and goodness, and whose spirit is now pass- ing to a higher sphere to receive its exceeding reward. The benefit of your labours and sufferings will not be lost upon earth. Your example and your writings will con- tinually bear more and more fruit. I will not write many words. Farewell! but not for ever, I now claim your friendship when we shall meet, for the first time, hereafter. It will not be many years hence, perhaps not many months. May the blessing of God be with you here and through eternity. Once again. Farewell ! Your friend, Andrews Norton. To Professor Norton. Liverpool, July 17th, 1838. My dear and respected Friend, Yours of the loth June has reached me this morning. Its contents have affected me deeply, and I thank God that 33 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS I have enjoyed, what to me is always one of the most sub- lime and convincing proofs of God and Immortality, the effusions of sincere friendship from a person like yourself. I prepare this answer without delay, lest the tormenting disease should take a sudden turn and carry me off, without my having made a full acknowledgment of your kindness. I linger in a most distressing state, deprived of the use of my lower limbs, and incapable of getting out of my chair by my own efforts. Easily exhausted by talking, and much more by thinking, I am, with very few exceptions, quite alone, and unable to follow up any reading which requires attention. My physicians have long declared to me their opinion that I cannot recover — a declaration which filled me with joy, and the accomplishment of which, like hope delayed, now makes my heart wither. I feel no enthusias- tic raptures, nor does my Imagination, trained, as it is, not to take the lead, venture to suggest any of her material pictures. But I have the most calm assurance within me, that the God whom at all times I have loved, and whose will I have always most sincerely wished to obey, will pro- vide for me that happiness for which I may be best fitted. Free from all theological fears, no terrors surround me while waiting for the long- desired dismissal from this life. I heartily thank God, who has so disposed the events of my mental course that I do not find in myself even a trace of the Superstition in which I was most anxiously educated. This indeed more than repays all my sufferings. May God's blessing be upon you and Mrs. Norton, and may your efforts in the pursuit of truth be successful. My acquaintance with the tone and character of your mind makes me sure that, wherever that mind may be in commu- nication with my own, the tie of friendship will unite them. Farewell, my dear friend. — With gratitude and esteem, I am yours, J. Blanco White. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 33 July 11th. My sixty-third Birth-day. I would it were my Birth-day into another state of existence ! From Dr. Channing, Boston, July 11th, 1838, My dear Sir, In a letter from Miss Dix, I have just received very un- favourable accounts of your health ; more so than you have yourself given. I cannot but hope that you will be strengthened again, for I feel that you must have much to say which you have not yet communicated to the world, and in usefulness you would find much to enjoy. But a higher will disposes of us. In this we will rejoice. Were this world our only sphere of action, we might be depressed at the thought of our unfinished plans, and of going, — before half of our work was done. But the very power which grasps at so much more than we can accomplish, is pro- phetic of a higher life. You and I have been conscious of a spiritual activity, which physical debility has prevented our bringing out. Is this to perish } Is the thirst for higher truth and holiness an illusion } The Fountain from which our spiritual life has flowed is inexhaustible. Will our as- pirations after larger communications fail .'' I have been a little troubled on account of a letter I sent you, after reading yours to Mr. Ripley. I had scarcely sent it when I felt that it was very crude, and I could not but fear that you might set down the free suggestions of a let- ter as deliberate conclusions. I now regret sending it, — from the apprehension that it may have stirred you up to efilbrts of thought injurious in your debilitated state. I beg you not to think of answering it, — nor to think of it farther, c 5 34 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS I have been taken almost wholly from labour for four months, but am slowly rising. Sometimes I dream of a visit to England, and the thought of seeing you comes to me among the chief pleasures I should meet abroad ; but I shall probably prove a dreamer. I do not mean to trouble you with a long letter. I write to express my sympathy, and to assure you of the sincere respect with which I remain, Your friend, W. E. Channing. July 14th. A letter from Mr. , sapng little that gives me the idea of despatch of business. He is evidently afraid of frightening me with the view of testaments and wills. This seems to be an universal silliness. July 27th. Ueceived a most kind letter from Lord Holland, and, under a frank of Lord Melbourne, a Note from one of his Secretaries, desiring me to apply to the Treasury to receive J^SOO from the Queen's Eoyal Bounty. This is truly royal ! Aug. 1st. Wrote to Mrs. Whately declining the £100, this year. Nothing in the whole course of my life, has per- plexed me more than this lingering in the face of Death. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 35 I became totally crippled in my legs, about six weeks ago, and have been, during that time, unable to rise from my arm-chair. Mr. Thom has been all this time out of Liverpool, and I have been left to myself in this wretched state. For many weeks I have lost the power of fixing my attention. The most overwhelming somnolency seizes me. Under the influence of these circumstances, together with the diminished hope of dissolution, which formerly cheered me, I have lost all energy. One thing, however, consoles me : my still being in Life seems to be likely to be beneficial to my Son. He is ex- tremely attached to me, and my last advice will ever be impressed upon his Soul. If I do not live many montlis, I shall leave him a handsome sum, out of the i€300 received from the Queen Friday, Aug. 3rd. This miserable state of existence lowers my spirits daily. To pass the night in moaning and drinking laudanum as the only means of getting a little re- pose j to rise up, and be wheeled to the spot where I must remain fixed till the hour of going to bed, unable to pursue any mental object, and hai'dly awake enough for writing a Letter — thus to have lived month after month, and yet to see no end at hand, is extremely trying and distressing. Of its being arranged in Wisdom I have no doubt; but 36 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS pain and anguish must be felt^ however willingly you submit. Socrates so feared the moral evils of Disease, that the certainty of escaping those of ex- treme old age by the legal Murder of which the Athenians were about to be guilty against him, was one of the main supports he had against the Terrors of Death. How would Socrates have stood the trial of severe Illness (he never in his life was even indis- posed) is a problem of great curiosity, but which we have not the means to solve. Socrates, an Invalid, or Valetudinarian, would have been quite another individual. As far as we know the personal quahties of Jesus of Nazareth, the same may be probably asserted. A sickly man may be an amiable and interesting person, but he cannot be extensively useful. Sunday, Aug. 5th. God cannot have formed his intellectual creatures to break like bubbles, and be no more. To die with imphcit trust in Him, but without drawing absurd Pictures of a future life, is the only rational conduct of which the subject admits. Monday, Aug. Gth. " Were this world our only sphere of action, we might be depressed at the thought of our unfinished plans, and of going, before half our work was done. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 37 But the very power which grasps at so much more than we can accomphsh^ is prophetic of a higher life/' Dr. Channmg, in a Letter received this day. This is, indeed, one of the most powerful argu- ments in favour of the Immortality of the Soul. If any one who possesses even a slight power of self- observation, will turn candidly within himself, and try to obtain a collective view of what he calls his Soul, he will soon be convinced that the Spirit which dwells in him cannot be the effect of a mere com- bination of organic phenomena. It is, on the con- trary, the most real, and, using the word in a truly philosophical sense, the most substantial thing, with which we are acquainted : it is the ultimate and most firm foundation for our belief in God. Our Soul is not a growth of our external or material Frame : on the contrary, it is the foundation of our Being. But the Soul contains in itself the deepest mysteries of the Universe : the more we examine it, the greater is our perplexity in regard to its Per- sonality, and even to its Unity. Observe the ten- dency of self-observers to divide it into two — a higher and an inferior Soul. This is the great Problem of true philosophy — namely, the separation of the superior and inferior Faculties, the fixing the seat of Personahty. Were this settled, were it show^n, for instance, that Personality consists in the Limita- tion, the shaping of the inferior Soul by the circum- stances of each person's condition in this life, I believe that all the difficulties against the Immor- 38 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS tality of the Soul would vanish. They arise, in my opinion, from making the word soul express a multi- tude of things, which cannot be reduced to one Pre- dicament. This is, however, the effect of the Imagi- nation— that treacherous Faculty to which men sur- render themselves, in all subjects connected with religion. P. P., Clerk of the Parish, must be the identical Individual throughout Eternity : the same are every one of his Neighbour's wishes; against which wishes there are difficulties which every reflect- ing man must find insuperable. " Alas ! You will take away our Personality/' And who will mourn for the loss ? Some distressed Impersonal, " But what becomes of all the system of Rewards and Punishments V It will surely exist as long as man is upon the face of the Earth. But here we are gliding again into the Political Religion — the Instrument which employs Man's hopes and fears, in order to shape him to some system of go- vernment, which must, under all modifications, ex- clude both violence and profligacy. Let men know themselves — let them be well educated from their infancy, and they will find Heaven in doing their Duty, — and Hell, in defying it. ** Oderunt peccare boni, virtutis amore ; Tu nihil admittes in te, formidine pcense." The former should be the Aim of all Education ; for the latter no sensible man would give a straw. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 39 Aug. 7th. " What comforts can such Doctrines give in the seasons of Affliction, and on the approach of Death?" This observation works with immense power upon most minds; but what does it amount to? Are Doctrines true in proportion to their power of sooth- ing a certain description of persons ? Then the ima- ginative Religions of the East must be true : the Koran must be true. If Comfort is the guage and measure of Truth, who is a more enviable being than the sincere Mahometan ? His practical Fatahsm gives him Resignation ; he derives a lively Hope of future happiness — a clear, definite state of happiness — from the performance of certain external duties. Let those who look for comfort in Doctrines, embrace those of the Koran. Why will they not ? — Because the Koran is not a true revelation. This is a most sensible Answer. Why, then, do the same people employ the Topic of comfort, for the purpose of getting proselytes to their religious system ? For my own part, I declare that I never derived any comfort from the doctrines of the Atonement, and their collateral branches ; but that at present my mind is in a most satisfactory state in regard to religious questions. Aug. 8th. No energy whatever to write. 40 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS Thursday, August 9tli. It is indeed with difficulty that I resist the utmost dejection of spirits. Nor is there anything surprising in this, considering the long time that I have con- tinued pinned down to this chair, and generally even without the power of amusing myself with reading. I think, however, I have rather improved in patience. I am in hopes that on my approaching the End, un- less I have the misfortune of djdng in great pain, I shall derive mental strength from the sure prospect of the great change. I conceive there is something very dignified in a human being awaiting his Disso- lution with firmness. Painful as Death frequently is from the nature of some of the diseases that inflict it, the transition from this to an unknown state of existence has something ennobling in it. May God grant me the great blessing of an Euthanasia. Aug. 10th. In MilFs excellent article on Bentham (London and Westminster Review for this month), there are some very acute observations on the two kinds of Talent — the Constructive and the Destructive. [By the bye, I do not recollect to have seen this Nomen- clature anywhere, before I proposed it with an apology, in an article on the state of Education in Spain, for which I was applied to, through Dr. Whately, by the Editor of the Journal of Education. There are two articles upon that subject in that AND CORRESPONDENCE. 41 Journal. Mine is tlie first ; witli the other I disclaim all connection.] It appears to me, that in treating of this subject, it is always taken for granted that in all matters there is a possibility of being Constructive ; — that every Error has a corresponding Truth, which it is the duty of him who upsets the Error to establish, in the place of the Delusion which has been dispelled. This, however, appears to me an unwarrantable and mischievous assumption. Suppose a man discovers the absurdity of a certain system of religious cere- monies : is he to be called upon to give us another ? How often, in the destructive process, it is seen that the supposition of partial error, on which it was begun, is totally groundless, and that the only Remedy in the case is total Abolition ! Now, to undertake inquiries of this kind, under the impression that whatever error we destroy will leave a chasm which it is our duty to fill up, must shackle our faculties, and give us a wrong bias throughout the whole examination. This is what has happened to the Reformation. It was supposed, and it is still firmly believed, that the basis of Christianity is some positive Authority; and every Reformer who has been successful in opening the eyes of a certain number of people to the existence of some hitherto unobserved Error, has invariabty employed himself in the constructive attempt of establishing the sup- posed divine Authority which his destructive process has shaken. This is the cause of our making no Progress — that even the Unitarians are at a stand, 43 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS and do not know what course to take. Let tliem at once perceive, that in this case the whole process must be destructive, that nothing should be sub- stituted in the place of an arbitrary system : and then, but not before, will true religious Liberty be established. August 11th. The Misses Yates, whose kindness to me has been very marked, and most delicately expressed, by a constant attention to every little thing that could cheer my sinking spirits — such as beautiful flowers, and some choice vegetables from their kitchen- garden — being on the point of setting out for Italy, Constantinople and Greece, requested me to write a few lines in their Album. I did so this morning, though much against my inclination, being convinced that even a man of the most ready wit, must be dull when he undertakes this kind of performance. I pointed out part of the moral duties of Travellers. August 13th, 1838. An English Sunday is the very emblem of Dul- ness : but it is difficult to conceive its depressing effects on a solitary sufi^erer like myself. This reli- gion of means converted into ends, is the occasion of great mischief everywhere. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 43 14th. This was a day of much suffering, and little thought. UsquequOy Domine ? loth. Those that praise cheerfulness in severe illness can have no notion of what it is to be ill. My expe- rience is unfortunately very long^ and if there is ear- nestness and honesty in man, I may be believed when 1 assert that my efforts to overcome the sinking of the spirits are strong and incessant. But alas ! for the cheerfulness which is to be obtained by Effort, unsupported by some alleviation of pain and misery. Such efforts are necessary ; they are a Duty, and, as such, I take great care not to neglect them ; but to be cheerful, to be in high jocular spirits, when there is not any part of the body exempt from actual pain, when every function of life is a torture, when eating is nausea, sleep agony, and even sitting in a luxurious chair may be compared to being on the rack — to ask for cheerfulness when all power of locomotion has been taken away, and the legs are felt to be unor- ganised burdens, performing no office but that of vehicles of pain, — denotes a thoughtlessness which the sufferer feels as one of his greatest trials. How dreadfully have I smarted under the cheering unfeel- ingness of people who enjoy habitual health ! 44 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS 21st. The hairdresser brought me a young Canary-bird as a Present.* From Dr. Channing. August 24th, 1838. My dear Sir, I received, a few days ago, your last letter, written with a trembling hand, and whilst I was touched and gratified by this proof of your regard, I could not but regret, that I had subjected you to so exhausting a labour. You must console yourself, by thinking that you did good. I trust I shall be the better for this testimony to your principles, this breathing of your spirit, this expression of calm reliance on God's perpetual inspiration and fatherly love. I hope it is not to be the last testimony. Should Providence renew in any measure your strength, you must give me a few lines, for you have not many friends more interested in you than myself. The conflicts of a mind, seeking, struggling for truth amidst peculiar obstructions, and sacrificing to it, not merely outward good, but friendship, confidence, love — are to me more affecting than all outward warfare. I trust you have received my late letter, written on hearing of your great debility, in which I begged you to forget, or not to think of answering the preceding one. That will show you how little importance I attached to my criticisms on your communication to Mr. Ripley. I sometimes think of vi- siting England, and one of the great pleasures I have pro- mised myself has been that of seeing you ; but a higher will disposes of us, and who would reverse it "i I thank God [* This bii"d was ever after his constant companion. Placed on his table, every morning, in an open cage, Dickey fluttered about him, and broke his solitude vs'ith the sight of life and enjoyment. It died in the same hour that he died. We need not add that this fact is men- tioned here only as a curious coincidence.] AND CORRESPONDENCE. 45 that He continues to you, amidst your trials, the strength of your faculties. So long as we can think clearly, we can carry on the great work of life — we can turn suffering to a glorious account — we can gather from triumphs over the body a new consciousness of the Divinity of the spirit. I have sometimes thought that my gratitude to God was never more lively than in illness ; and how manv under this trial have had a new revelation of his presence. May He grant you these consolations. You feel, undoubtedly, as we all do on approaching our end here, as if you might have done more for the great cause to which your life has been devoted. To a friend of his race, who looks round on the amount of guilt and error in the world, how little he seems to have achieved ! But let us thank God, if in any thing we have served our brethren ; and may we not say, in the disproportion of our desires to our doings, that we are destined to a higher efficiency, — to a world, where our powers, now so imprisoned, will expand freely and joyfully. But I will not weary with reflections with which you are so familiar. I commend you affectionately to God, the never-failing fountain of light, truth, peace, love, and blessedness. Very truly and respectfully your friend, W. E. Channing. 25th. My misery during the intervening days has been so great, that I do not say to think, but to live, was torment. I feel a little better this morning. How long the amendment will last it is impossible to tell. I will certainly exert myself as much as a determined Will can enable me, to oppose this horrible disease. It must not be supposed, however, that my distress 46 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS appears in the shape of Thought, — whether of doubt, of anticipation of evil, or anything of this kind. If any thought contributes to it, it is that of the probable prolongation of my life : so far indeed am I from suffering in consequence of fear of any kind. I am sure that the Bigots will not believe this assertion, but will insist upon some intimate connection between my physical distress, and what they will call my Unbelief; but I positively tell them, they are com- pletely mistaken. Wednesday, August 29th. This deep internal weakness prevents all connected exertion of thought. Before I take up the pen, perhaps feeling a certain degree of relief from pain, I think I shall be able to write something worth pre- serving ; but when I come to the point, all mental vigour fails me. It would give me great satisfaction to write the long intended letter to the Unitarians, but I fear I shall never accomplish it. My greatest enemy is this unconquerable drowsiness. It seized me a moment ago, and made the pen run over the paper without direction. Patience ! Saturday, September 1st. I continue under the same mental inactivity. Thoughts leading to useful observations occur to me, but I fall asleep as soon as I attempt to develop them. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 47 But I can read, with moderate attention, even works which demand some exertion of the thinking faculties. Mr. Thorn in the morning. I read to him part of an admirable Extract from Jouffroy in the Miscellany published at Boston by Ripley. The passage made me ashamed of my weakness : I determined to exert myself to the utmost against the dejection of disease. Monday, September 10th. How can I convey in words the utter misery into which I am sinking deeper every day. Nothing but a firm persuasion that self-destruction would be cri- minal in me prevents my putting it into execution. But my will is fixed : I am determined not to do wrong. In this horrible distress I still wish to con- form to the will of God ; but it seems to me impos- sible to continue much longer in this state, pre- serving my Reason. I have scarcely any power of self-government against this despondency. Sept. 30th. Mrs. Lawrence to leave some flowers. Bather bet- ter, though the nights are very bad. October 16th. In copying my Sonnet on Night and Death for a friend, I have made some corrections. It is now as follows : — 48 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS Mysterious Night ! when our first Parent knew Thee, from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely Frame, This glorious canopy of Light and Blue ? Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew. Bathed in the rays of the great setting Flame, Hesperus with the Host of Heaven came. And lo ! Creation widened in Man's view. Who could have thought such Darkness lay concealed Within thy beams, O Sun ! or who could find. Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed, That to such countless Orbs thou raad'st us blind ! Why do we then shun Death with anxious strife ? If Light can thus deceive, wherefore not Life ? J. B W. Tuesday, Oct. 16tli, 1838. In a letter received this morning, Ferdinand White tells me that he expects to be here on Thursday next. 18th. Ferdinand White arrived at 10 a. m. 19th. Talked a great deal without much increase of suf- fering. The excitement produced by the presence of my son is certainly beneficial. 20th. In better spirits, though very weak in the morning. 22nd. Began reading Italian with Ferdinand. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 49 Letter to Mrs. . Oct. 23rd, 1838. My dear , My heart is not so narrow as not to be able to embrace more than one object of parental love. Both you and your husband keep your old places, or rather I should say be- come identified with that son of mine whom you seem so inclined to treat as a brother. It is to me a very great pleasure when I see Ferdinand either going out with your husband, or taking his hat to go to see you. If I understand you right, I believe I shall have complied with your request when I put your name on a very com- mon edition of Shakspeare in Ten little volumes, which I have used for probably about five-and-twenty years, scrib- bling Notes upon some of the Plays even in the middle of the night, in seasons when I have been distressed for want of sleep. Is this what you wish for ? Tell me if I am mistaken. It is surprising how I have talked for the last five days ; yet, in spite of a kind of nervous fever, which keeps me in a perpetual agitation, and deprives me of sleep at night, I am most perversely better. Nevertheless, I am glad I have lived to see Ferdinand — the object of my hfe's cares and exertions. Yours, my dear , Ever aflfectionatelv, J. Blanco Whitk. Nov. 8th. How deep may be the sorrows of a guiltless heart ! But how easily they are prevented from causing utter Distress when Innocence and Benevolence unite to tend the wounds ! VOL. III. D 50 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS 21st. Finished a trifling Article for Mr. Thorn's Review. 25tli. A Letter received by Ferdinand from L. Moore, containing General Anderson's opinion that he should express to the Commander-in-Chief his readi- ness to return to India immediately, if wanted, in- duced me to advise him to proceed to London without delay, and present himself at the Horse Guards. Letter to Lord Holland. Liverpool, Nov. 25, 1838. My dear Lord Holland, I have two reasons for taking the liberty of introducing to you my son Lieut, and Adjutant Ferdinand White, of the 40th Regiment, who is come from Bombay on leave of absence, after a residence of 12 years both at Sydney, in N. S. Wales, and in that Presidency. The first of my reasons is, that he wishes to thank Ladv Holland for an introduction to Lord Clare, when he was Governor of Bom- bay. Lord Clare behaved with great politeness to Lieut. White. The second reason is, that he will be able to give you an account of my present state, much more accurate indeed than any description I might attempt to send by Letter. I trust you will find these reasons suflficient to ac- quit me of intrusion. I felt very much obliged to you for your very kind answer to my excellent friend, the Rev. J. H. Thom, of this town. I exert myself as much as possible to write a few trifling AND CORRESPONDENCE. 51 Articles for his Periodical. The Editor has no object what- ever in that Publication, but the propagation of a liberal spirit upon all subjects. I am extremely happy to hear that both you and Lady Holland have benefitted by your visit to Paris. With kindest regards to all, I am, my dear Lord Holland, Yours ever gratefully, J. Blanco White. Nov. 26th. [Ferdinand left me for London. Without any diminution of the dropsical symptoms, and the same inability to stand on my legs, yet I feel much better.] Though I continue in respect to the locked knee- joints and swellings in various parts of the body, without any amendment, my spirits are, at times, much better, and this morning I feel a certain de- gree of pleasure in mental activity. I have been reading a chapter in my favourite Marcus Antoninus, § 4, B. iii. What a sublime view is there expressed of the Man who regulates his whole Being according to the Spirit who dwells in us ! There is nothing above it in St. Paul, though the notions, and even some of the expressions, denote identity of origin. One thing is clear, however, to those who examine both writers impartially — that the Stoic Philosophy is the source of the Pauline philosophical fragments. The proof of this is, on D 2 52 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS, ETC. the one hand, the completeness of the Philosopher's instructions; and on the other, the incompleteness, exaggeration, and rough fragmentary character of the maxims and observations of the Apostle. Dec. 3rd. Very ill. I am deriving great relief from the drowsiness which attacks me constantly, by playing on the Flute. This morning I found myself unable to draw a note, owing to the swelling of my face and lips. 8th. Ferdinand White returned in the Evening. 9th. Relieved by Ferdinand^s company. ( 53 ) CHAPTER IX. EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS AND CORRESPONDENCE. 1839.— ^tat. 64, January 1st, 1839. The year which expired yesterday has been one of incessant suffering to me. I have no better prospect for that which begins this day. In spite, however, of my misery, I have not been absolutely idle. I have renewed and improved my acquaint- ance with the Italian Language, and Italian Litera- ture. I have read some important works. I have made a very considerable effort to complete my knowledge of German. But with the exception of a slight Article on Huberts Skizzen von Spanien, for Mr. Thomas Christian Teacher, all my attempts to write have failed. My mental vigour is greatly re- duced. It is now more than six months since I stood on my legs. This absolute confinement to an arm chair exhausts my spirits. My existence is mere pain, languor, and hopeless desire of Death. I have for some days past been reading Schiller's Plays. Italian and Music with Ferdinand. 54 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS 12th. Daily reading Italian, Carlyle (French Revolu- tion), and Music with Ferdinand. 14th. A Letter from the Provost of Oriel. Feb. 7th. Reading, daily, Guingene and Tasso, with Leo, and Marcus Antoninus. March 3rd. Anniversary of my arrival in England. March 10th, Sunday. As dull as any Sabbatarian could wish. 19th. Very ill.^ — Began correcting a printed copy of " Heresy and Orthodoxy," for a second edition. 22nd. Alas! Ferdinand left me this morning for Lon- don. Shall I see him again ? If I do, how short will that last meeting be ! But Oapptj rt^ ^loikovvti. April 2nd. Sent the copy for the second edition of ^' Heresy and Orthodox/' to Mr. Thom. AND CORRESPONDENCE. Od 9th. Note Book.* — I have neglected this Book for a long time. The chief cause of this has been the presence of my son^ whose company has had more interest for me than any thoughts of my own. He has been away three weeks, and it is uncertain how long I may have him again with me ; or even whe- ther I may see him at all — though it is probable I shall. But, at all events, I shall resume my prac- tice of writing down any of my thoughts that may seem worth while to remember. Most of them are most melancholy forebodings, which I cannot en- tirely dispel, but am obliged to let them pass like dark clouds over my mind. The two following notes had been written down in the Appendix to the Students^ Journal. The thoughts therein expressed occurred to me early in the morn- ing of two preceding days, during the hour and a half which I pass sitting on the edge of my bed, be- fore I am wheeled into my dressing-room. They are both entered under one date, April 7th. God would not employ human language to say what, according to his laws, human language cannot express. This appears to me an unanswerable ob- jection to the doctrines of the Trinity. But I am [♦ The preceding extracts in this chapter were taken from occa- sional entries in a small journal.] 56 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS sure that few will understand it, for the simple rea- son that there are few among us who know any thing about the philosophy of language. Geometrical figures are not symbols of the thing upon which we reason by their means ; they are the thing itself — Space. Their imperfection arises from the limits we employ, which, being also space, cannot properly limit. 17th. A letter from Ferdinand, acquainting me with the intention of the Commander-in-Chief, to appoint him to command some soldiers going next June to Bom- bay. 20th. Employed the morning in writing a good-natured sq^lib, which amused me.* [* To show all sides of his mind, we give such, passages of this clever piece of humour, as are not directly personal.] UNITARIAN CONTROVERSY. To the Editor of the Liverpool Albion. Sir, — I am an old practitioner of medicine, who have the misfortune of being established on so healthy a spot of the principality of Wales, that 1 hardly have anything to do in the way of my profession. The people among whom I live are so obstinately — I might say, rudely — well, that, for a time, I could not help taking their vivacious looks as a personal insult. But habit has reconciled me to this impudence of health, and 1 do no longer complain of their total disregard of my AND CORRESPONDENCE. 57 29th. Thougli groaning at every breath, I still feel strongly moved to write a Review of the Unitarian Controversy, or rather the Unitarian Quarrel, which is going on in this town. That it is not a rational interests. 1 have, however, a little pittance of my own, and, being naturally contentus parvo, i. e. not ambitious, my time is entirely de- voted to the establishment and development of a medical system of my own. Having very, very few near me who want my advice, I have, for some time, been in the practice of making out medical cases for myself, entirely for the love of science ; for I seldom trouble the patients with my opinion, and never, of course, either was offered, or accepted, a fee. But, " How," you will ask, "do you proceed ? Do you procure a view of the persons for whose health you are so dis- interestedly concerned ? " No, my dear sir, not at all ; for, besides that I could not afford to travel at my own cost, I should fear to be very uncivilly sent about my business when 1 had fully stated tht; object of my errand. Now, Mr. Editor, I beg your particular attention, for I am about to lay open the delicate and, I might say, ethereal principle of my system. You know how many attempts have been made to discover the in- ternal state of the microcosm, man: by the lines of the hand, cheiro- mancy ; by the features, physiognomy; and, lastly, by the bumps and dimensions of his head, phrenology. Nor have speculatists been wanting who wished to discover the state and peculiar structure of the mind, through the shape of individual handwriting. I have gone deeper into the mystery of man, and am, at length, in possession of a key which opens at once the moral and physical state of certain indi- viduals to my observant eyes. The moral part of the discovery, how- ever, I leave to the clerical profession, reserving to myself that which properly belongs to the science of medicine. My guides (to come at once to the discovery) are the literary compositions of the various patients who, in absolute ignorance of their internal diseases, betray them completely through their writings. This science I have named BiBLioPATHOLOGY. At present, there is but one adept of this mi- raculous science, that is, your humble servant, myself; but I am ready to receive pupils, and if, by means of your valuable paper . However, I will say no more, lest you should charge me for an ad- vertisement. To return to my method : I procure as many of the d5 58 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS inquiry, is not the fanlt of the able men who have been assailed by the conceit of the Orthodox. These men fell upon my friends pugnis et unguibus, and being thus attacked they could not but defend them- selves, in the old way of quarrelling controversy. publications of living authors as my scanty means and the kindness of my friends allow me. I study these productions medically, and such is the efficacy of my scientific principle, that, if there is any morbid tendency in the author, 1 can instantly discover it. Oh, sir ! how many a young poet and poetess have I cautioned, — alas ! in vain, — against an approaching consumption ! How many cases of inanition have I predicted ! How many members of parliament (for I can form my diagnosis from their speeches) might secure themselves from the va- rious dangers of epilepsy, water in the head, and the writhings of the cholic, if they would believe my prognosis of their cases ! But the largest field for my science I have always found among the clergy. There is not, my good sir, an Episcopal charge but discloses to me a most wretched state of the internal system. As in Parliament most of the indications are spasmodic, those of the clergy are mostly biliary. There is much plethora among them, with its natural conse- quences of somnolency, constipation, &c. &c. But of bile ! The true atra bills, which the ancients used to send to Anticyra, as we do to Cheltenham, I frequently find the most appalling symptoms. One of these cases has lately occupied my attention, which, as the patient (patient, of course, without his being conscious of it) lives in or very near your town, I have resolved to state to you at full length, that you may be good enough to make inquiries, and compare actual realities with my scientific conjectures, which, as you will easily believe, are more than realities to myself. You are well aware that theological controversy is raging in your town of Liverpool. A theological controversy ! Oh ! if medicine had generally been carried to the acme of perfection to which I have brought it, that name would be more formidable than the influenza three years ago. Well, then, I have attentively examined the internal state of various individuals, as it is deducible from their printed pro- ductions on this occasion. I will not give you all my observations, for fear of tiring you ; but I must beg your particular attention to the case of the Rev. Mr. , as clearly indicated in a letter addressed to the Rev. Mr. . I never met with a more dangerous superabundance AND CORRESPONDENCE. 59 But the Unitarians, if obliged to defend themselves in detail, concerning propositions involved in the most violent prejudices of the mass of the people, are placed under great disadvantages. I am convinced that it is not necessary to disprove the theory of In- spiration, in order to show that the Deity of Jesus of Nazareth was no article of the primitive Christianity. But as long as every phrase of the Bible shall be re- garded as a divine oracle, no right principles of inter- pretation can be applied, with any effect, upon the popular Mind. Here is this text of Paul, they will say ; he calls Christ, God over all, blessed for ever. The question appears at once settled ; for though it is evident that, all circumstances of the case being considered as sound interpretation demands, that passage must be acknowledged to have been tampered with by the Churchy whatever the Manuscripts may of bile — acrid, corrosive, threatening, in my opinion, a spontaneous combustion of the patient. I should not be surprised, indeed, if, one of these mornings, there should be found, in the bed of the reverend gentlemen, a handful of caput mortuum — some alkalies, perhaps, the rest of the individual having been converted, with a loud detonation, into what the Germans, very appropriately, call sour gas. I must, however, inform you of another delicate part of my method, which I have particularly applied in the case of Mr. It is this : out of the ancient and modern satirists I have chosen some strikingly depicted characters to guide me in such medical investigations. Now, when I find, in a recently-published book or pamphlet, that the author might have sat to the satirical painter for one or other of his remark- able pictures, I directly infer a morbid state in the living writer, else how could a man, with a sound constitution, be so extremely like an exaggerated drawing, perhaps a caricature? Let us apply this rule to Mr. . 60 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS exhibit^ it is impossible for any mind under the superstitious notion of Inspiration, to allow itself the necessary freedom to perceive anything in the case, but that the words are there. The question of Inspi- ration is the basis of all theology ; till it is thoroughly examined, and the negative proof against it made as clear as by its nature it can be, all Controversy is a mere Blind Man^s Buff play. The absurdity of most of the orthodox Sermons in this Controversy is inconceivable. Mr. M'NeiFs is truly contemptible : Mr. Stewart's is pitiful : Mr. Byrth's is odious. Men more unprepared for any philosophical inquiry than these Orthodox champions, it is impossible to conceive. I would not attempt to convince them; but I could assist many an honest thinking person, in delivering themselves from the deadening influence of these Priests. April 30th. Very unwell. Went to bed very early : but saw Ferdinand when he arrived. May 4th, 1839. " PLAN [of a Lexicon) . ^' The above is an Alphabetical Arrangement (ac- cording to Schmid) of every word in the Gi'eek New Testament. Immediately after each Greek word follows the series of passages in which it occurs : AND CORRESPONDENCE. 61 these are given in quotations from the authorised En- glish translation. Throughout each series, italic letters are used to mark the word or words which correspond to the Greek word under consideration. The citations are sufficiently full to enable any one moderately acquainted with the English Testament to recall the context. The object of the work is to endeavour to lead the mind to deduce ' its meaning and definition of words ^ from the use made of them by the HOLY GHOST.*— By Bagster-'' The English are certainly a practical people ; give them the most aerial thought in the shape of a meta- phor, and, if it answers their purpose, they will ham- mer it into the solidity of a rock. The theory of Bible-Inspiration has reached its utmost limits of materiality. Here we have a Lexicon composed by the Holy Ghost. What an impious man must that be that will not learn Greek from it ! All uncer- tainty is now removed, for we may know the " mean- ing and definition of words from the use made of them by the HOLY GHOST." Who shall now ven- ture to call the Hellenistic Greek a poor and rude dialect, or accuse St. John of bad Grammar ! Away with your Thucydides, Demosthenes, Plato ! Your Greek has no divine Sanction ! [* The printing of the original advertisement is exactly copied.] 62 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS May 5th, 1839. My reading before the return of Ferdinand from London has been, Strauss^ Leben Jesu, nearly through a second time : a little Hebrew daily, and a few sen- tences of M. Aurelius, as a subject of meditation : and Homer, — besides the Periodicals. After Ferdi- nand's return, we read some Italian and Latin. 19th. Ferdinand left me for Dublin, to visit his brother officer. Captain Coddrington. 25th. ^ I finished yesterday a slight reading of a very able statement of the various systems of German Philo- sophy from Kant to Hegel. It is entitled, Historische Entwickelung der speculativen Philosophie von Kant bis Hegel von Heinrich Moritz Chalybdus. Dresden. 1837. 8vo. I have said that I gave it a slight read- ing, because I omitted one or two intricate passages, requiring more attention than I can in my present state bestow upon any subject. I have read however this work with great interest, because it is excellently written, and in a more luminous style than such works generally display. The introduction, which breathes a generous spirit of philosophical freedom, put me in high spirits ; but the conclusion dashed them down in a most painful manner. One by one AND CORRESPONDENCE. 63 all the systems which men of the highest talents, had constructed with infinite labour, came to split upon the rock of religion. The multitude, with their governors and their priests j are shocked, — and the most accurate series of deductions must consequently be discarded, as visionary. There is no principle what- ever in the human mind from which an extramundane God can be inferred to exist : not one philosophical ground upon which the immortality of Mr. A. and Mrs. B. can be established. Away then with philo- sophy : away with its God ; he cannot " walk in a garden in the cool of the evening,^^ or be applied to with petitions for health, or perhaps fine weather to cross to Calais. The spectre of Pantheism stands in the way of all true Philosophy ; all good people are afraid of Pantheism : but who does show the least uneasiness about Idolatry, — that Idolatry of the Ima- gination which is the basis of all that is called Christianity? Can this tyranny continue long? Shall ignorance and shallowness obstruct the way of Knowledge for ever ? Impossible. But I who have lived, and am dying, in pain and anguish for the love of truth, shall not see the day of intellectual freedom. Happy, at least, if I have been one to fill up the ditch of the fortress of superstition ! " Happy shall they be who shall dash the last religious errors against a stone. ^' 64 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS May 26th. I am still irresistibly drawing up plans for works against religious error^ though, at the same time, I am oppressed with a perpetual sense of miser}'". Dr. Sutherland has been reading the Second Travels, and speaks highly of that work. I am confident that those two small volumes contain an unanswerable argument against that monstrous irpvjrov \pev^og — a Church ; only that I never expand my reasons, and few readers will undertake that work for them- selves. But this is the original character of my mind, which I cannot alter. The principal strength of my w^ork consists in historical facts applied to the theory of Orthodoxy, Could not those facts be developed into a sketch of the history of Chris- tian belief during the three first centuries ? It is enough to show the absolute want of historical foundations for the present Christianity, to exhibit the total darkness in which theoretical Christianity is lost during the latter part of the first, and a great portion of the second century ; to prove the chasm of a hundred years which separate all Chris- tian documents from Christ, and his immediate dis- ciples. I think if I had but middling health, I could give a sound, yet popular view of this fact. But what can I do ? June 15th. Took my last leave of Ferdinand, and felt as if my heart was breaking. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 65 To J . Liverpool, June 18th, 1839. Your letter is this instant arrived. It contains the only Words of comfort I have yet received in nay deep affliction. I will not conceal that this separation has afflicted me more than any other event in my life. My philosophy is only a guide to me ; but it has not steeled my heart against pain. It has taught me to advise Ferdinand to return to India, because I thought it the best thing in his circumstances ; it has enabled me to spare him pain by concealing my own ; but as I shook him by the hand on Saturday evening, knowing that I should, in all probability, never see him again, I could hardly contain my anguish within my bosom. Fortunately I was going to bed, where I could give way to my sorrow. I say that yours are the first words of conso- lation I have heard ; not a soul has been here since Fer- dinand left me. I feel, indeed, as Ulysses' dog on the Dunghill : but I endeavour to take my share of misery day by day, and leave the future to develop itself. You are reading Don Quixote again ? Had I not been broken down by disease during the best part of my life, I would have attempted a correction of the first English translation — I forget the name of the translator — which is now very scarce. My wish was to give to the style an air of an- tiquity, corresponding to that of Cervantes himself. In the serious passages, Sir Philip Sidney's style in the Ar- cadia would answer admirably ; in the comic, Shakspeare ought to be the model. A hfe of Cervantes was the last thing of this kind I had in contemplation ; but the want of books dissuaded me from undertaking the task. I ought to have been near the British Museum. 66 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS June 26tli, 1839. In no matter whatever, needs a man be reminded of what he believes , except in religion. What a man beheves he knows, and what he knows he believes. Why should the priesthood come to us with an inven- tory of what we believe ? — The priesthood do not care about our belief; what they want is our assent; so they make out a list of what we have to assent to, if we are to avoid the consequences of their indignation. The old E/Omish priesthood do not conceal this : ac- cording to them, any one who says, " I believe what- ever the Mother Church believes,^^ has saving Faith. The Protestant Churches desire to disguise their wishes, which are the same as those of Rome, and mince the matter. Yet there never was, nor ever will be, a Priesthood guiltless of the design to take all other men^s minds into their keeping. 28th. Reading from one o^clock till a quarter to eight in the morning, in order to escape from the misery of drowsiness without the possibility of falling asleep. To Dr. Channing, Liverpool, June 30th, 1839. My dear Sir, I would have written to you long ago, if the miserable state in which I still continue did not generally deprive me AND CORRESPONDENCE. 67 of that power of attention, without which we cannot collect our thoughts. It is true that my life is not in immediate danger ; the constant fever has left me, and the dropsy is much less ; but I do not enjoy a single hour of rest from distress and pain. It is now more than a year since I last stood on my feet. I have totally lost the use of my knee- joints, and am consequently compelled to sit the whole day, and to lie on my back the whole night. I am wheeled in a chair from my bedroom to my study, and taken to bed early in the same manner. It is only by means of my hands that I can shift myself from the chair to the bed. There is no prospect whatever of relief : death alone can release me from this thraldom. But as you observe in your admirable Letter on Slavery, (the passage came home to my feelings,) this total want of liberty comes from a source which the mind blesses and loves, whether it sends pain or enjoyment. Were it man that kept me even in much slighter confine- ment, I do not know how I could stand the temptation to self destruction. I sincerely congratulate you on the publication of that Letter. You have written it under the inspiration of Truth and Humanity. You have dragged the Monster from its fastnesses, you have exposed its hideousness to the world. I caimot imagine a fallacy, either of intellect or feeling, which you have not thoroughly answered. I wish I could agree with you in the same unqualified manner upon the subject of War. I do not doubt for a mo- ment that War is one of the great evils which are allowed to fall upon mankind ; but I cannot class it with the greatest of those evils : I conceive that it has a more abundant com- pensation of good than pestilence and famine. Have you read Colonel Napier's History of the Peninsular War ? It contains the most appalling pictures of destruction that I ever met in any historical book. But out of the very hor- rors which make the imagination recoil, there breaks out a moral light, a grandeur of character which could not be 68 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS produced under any other circumstances. In our modern wars, the most perfect contempt of death is very frequently joined with the repose of the evil passions. It is only under the irritation of peculiar antipathies (such as existed be- tween the French and the Spaniards) that the regular, well- trained soldier acts under the ferocious impulses of hatred and offended persoiial pride. Between the English and the French there existed, during the last war, a generous feel- ing, of which you will find most noble instances in the above-mentioned work. I must add, that I have found some of the most admirable characters among soldiers. Colonel Napier himself might be mentioned as a remarkable instance. I do not mean to recommend war — God forbid it ! but considering that its abolition will be impracticable for a long time, I wish rather to see benevolence employed in suggesting the means of allaying the evils of that scourge, than in directly opposing it. A high discipline, (which is in itself a certain kind of education,) the diffusion of know- ledge among the officers, and a general tone of society which will demand the union of humanity and courage in those who are to be considered men of honour, — such ap- pear to me to be the true remedies, at this period of society, against the unredeemed evils of war. Believe me, my dear Sir, with sincere respect and affec- tion. Your friend, J. Blanco White. July 6th, 1839. Exceedingly unwell, with violent convulsions, till about six in the morning. It is not the severity, but the length of this trial that oppresses me. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 69 July 8th, 1839. A very instructive, and perhaps interesting book might be written under the title, The Secret Diary of a Spanish Inquisitor, or religious aberrations. Imagine a sincere Roman Catholic priest, regularly brought up, and otherwise refined, who at the age of thirty is appointed Inquisitor. He is full of zeal, but has a human heart : he has fully imbibed the pre- judices of his education, but his understanding is clear, his reason unperverted, and he loves truth. Prisoners are gradually brought before him, whom he takes a particular pleasure to examine in private. A Protestant discusses his tenets with him, especially respecting authority. The Inquisitor finds many of the prisoner's observations against Rome very weighty, but the constructive part of Protestantism very de- fective. A total sceptic ; — the Inquisitor is struck with many difficulties against dogmatic religion, but total scepticism, or rather total denial of a religious principle, quite groundless. Lastly, a true Theist -, the Inquisitor is caught.^ — His state of mind under such circumstances. A beautiful Jewish girl, in the prisons of the Inquisition. The Inquisitor in love — his dangers. He escapes with the girl, loses her, and becomes a victim to what is falsely called Chris- tianity. 70 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS nth. My sixty-fourtli Birth-day : to what wretchedness was I appointed at my birth ! There is an infinite Wisdom to which I submit. Miss and Miss came to see me. This visit increased my suflPerings. Most people do not understand real kindness. 19th. I am at that stage of my martyrdom when the flame, which has not been able to extinguish hfe by suffocation, subsides, and the burning coals melt the limbs. 21st. I have lately read Keightley^s Greek and Roman Mythology. It is a well- written book, clever, but rather superficial. The author^s ready and contemp- tuous rejection of the Symbolical System of Creuzer is the effect, I conceive, of his disinclination to write any thing but a book for the London market. 22nd. The unchangeable character of Ecclesiastical perse- cution : — Multos invenias, quos si interroges, in quibus AND CORRESPONDENCE. 71 libris aut in quibus locis (Origenis) dicta sint hsec, quae arguunt, coufitentur, se quidem nescire ea, de quibus affirmant, nee legisse unquam, audisse au- tern alios dicentes. — The very same thing happened when Dr. Hampden was condemned at Oxford. The Latin passage is from the Preface of an Apology for Origen, written by the Martyr Pamphilus, a Priest of Csesarea (a.d. 309), in five books, to which Euse- bius added one. Nothing but the first book, in Ru- finus^ Translation, is in existence. 23rd. Letter from Ferdinand, on board the ship " Stra- bane," Gravesend. He was to sail that afternoon. He commands 129 men and four young officers, — the men very young recruits — and no old commis- sioned officers. August 21st, 1839. Reading early in the morning in the second vo- lume of Michelet's admirable History of France, I found a passage on Flanders, which he calls une Lom- bardie prosdique, adding in a Note — Vous y retrou- ve2 la predilection pour le cygne, qui, selon Virgile, etait Tornement du Mincius et des autres fleuves de Lombardie. Des Fentree de Fancienne Belgique, Amiens, la petite Venise, comme Fappelait Louis 72 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS XIV. nourissait sur la Somme les cygnes du roi. En Flandrej une foule d^auberges ont pour enseigne le cygne. — p. 272. I added in pencil : — The swan is to me the poetry of birds. The last swan that has delighted my eyes was^ and probably is still, at Uedesdale, (the country place of the pre- sent Archbishop of Dublin,) the place of my last enjoyments and my last regrets — the regrets of my dying hour. Aug. 21st, 1839. " That which we sometimes call pedantry and innovation, the forced introduction of French words by Chaucer, though hardly more by him than by all his predecessors who translated our neighbours' poetry, and the harsh Latinisras that began to ap- pear soon afterwards, have given English a copious- ness and variety which perhaps no other language possesses.^' — Hallam, Hist. Lit., vol. i. p. 170, 171. It seems presumptuous in me to question this bold assertion. If by variety, we may understand motley- ness (sit venia verbo), there is truth in what Mr. H. says : for w^ords of the most various origin have been brought into the language, with scarcely any attempt to naturalize them by modifying their structure. Single words have frequently been introduced; but the most obstinate resistance has at all times been opposed to the use of their derivatives : this resistance AND CORRESPONDENCE. 73 takes place even in regard to old English words. The motleyness which I have used will no doubt he objected to; though formed in the most regular manner. Of the Latinisms introduced in the 16th and 17th century, the greatest part are become ob- solete. Many of the words of this kind in Jolmson^s scanty Dictionary are totally disused. My judgment upon this subject will of course be rejected, because it will be supposed to be grounded upon my im- perfect knowledge of the language. But I refer myself to the translations from the German which have lately been made by highly educated English- men. Does not the poverty and stiffness of the language show itself in the vain attempts to render the thoughts of Niebuhr ? It will be said that the diflBculty arises from the difference of idiom. The difference of idiom is no insuperable difficulty in translation : if the language translated into is equally copious with that translated from, all that is required is familiarity with both, and taste for the substi- tution of idiom for idiom. The English language might be copious, in consequence of its waut of internal organization. Being a language of mere juxtaposition, any word from any language with an English termination will easily become naturalized. But there is a fastidiousness in the admission of new words which deprives the language of this advantage. The English language is sufficiently copious for pur- poses thoroughly English : it has great power as used in Parliamentary debates — especially for abuse VOL. III. E /4 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS and invective ; but let any one attempt the transla- tion of some eminent German writer in philosophy, or matters of taste, noting down the expressive words for which there is no equivalent, and Mr. Hallam^s boast of copiousness will certainly be uttered in a less confident tone. People who may be ofi"ended by words which are not used at boarding-schools and in magazines, would do well never to think of mental philosophy. AMthout a technical language it is impossible to treat such a science, or any of its branches. Abstract words are very much wanted in English. I think it absolutely necessary to form them fi'om adjectives accompanied by the article, as the Particular, the Universal. In such cases a capital letter should be used, to show that the adjective has been changed into a substantive. Subswne is a word formed ac- cording to the best analogy. We have constime, resume^ and others of the same family. Subsume is to draw a thing so as to take it under ; absorb it. No better word could be found to express the ope- ration of the mind, by which a superior class, or Universal, draws the inferior under itself. Aug. 22nd. One of the difficulties with which Mental Philoso- phy has to contend in England is that of forming a proper nomenclature. The same difficulty, in various AND CORRESPONDENCE. 75 degrees,, exists among all nations. The Philosopher in the infancy of the Science, is obliged to adopt words in common use, in order to express notions which they do not convey to the mass of the people. This new employment of words is quite oflPensive to that multitude who, because they receive a certain degree of instruction, however groundless and un- connected it may be, assume a right to be infallible in regard to their own language. Where, however, as in Germany, philosophy becomes a fashion, this diflBculty is easily overcome; for there is a numerous class who feel vain of using any newly-proposed no- menclature. But such a fashion is not likely to appear in England. Add to this the stiff nature of the English language itself — a language made up of fragments which resist every modification which composition and flexion make easy to others. Even that which has been done by Englishmen in Mental Philosophy, increases the difficulty ; for we have al- ready a half-established nomenclature in Locke, and in the works of the Scotch School. Unfortunately it is so loose, so unconnected into a system, that it must add to the inevitable confusion of philosophical investigation under such circumstances. If I should be able to carry on my German studies, I intend to take every possible pains to form a consistent meta- physical nomenclature. My principal guide shall be the old nomenclature of the Schoolmen, because it has long been incorporated with the common lan- guages of Europe, though most people are not aware E 2 76 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS of the fact, and its terms may more easily be con- fined to a certain shade of their present vague sig- nification, than could be done with entirely new ones. I intend to collect gradually a small dictionary of such terms, changing and modifying them accord- ing to the progress of my knowledge of German Philosophy. Whenever I find an old English word fit for the purpose in contemplation, I shall make no scruple of reviving it. Aug. 23rd. In proportion to my progress in the study of J.H. Fichte^s philosophy,* is the occasional deUght — one above every pleasure I am acquainted with — which possesses my mind in the contemplation of the high- est spiritual truths. I have had during my life what might be called religious acquiescences — it is only now, since I cast off all pretended oracles, and ap- plied exclusively to that within my own mind, that I have had religious convictions. " But how can the mass of mankind be left to fol- low that arduous intellectual path ?" My first answer is : that if there is no other, thoroughly consistent with truth, we must not try to mend God^s works by our deceitful contrivances. — How strange that *• I am not a follower of the Metaphysics of Kant, or Fichte, i. e. I a.u not a pure Idealist or Nihilist ; but I delight in the Moral portions of their Works. AND CORRESPONDENCE. 77 people should be constantly speaking oi faith in God, while their whole conduct in these matters shows that they feel the greatest distrust in the laws of mind which He has established ! What are all the sacerdotal religions over the face of the worlds but human contrivances, more or less grounded on erro- neous views, which, though frequently acknowledged imperfect, and even mischievous, are nevertheless cherished and supported, from a fear that mankind must go to ruin, if these old, rotten props of civili- zation and morality should be removed ? A won- derful inconsistency ! to believe on the one hand that man is the noblest work of the Deity, and on the other to fear that such a Avork must be patched up with the filthiest rags of superstition and error ! With those who shelter themselves behind Original Sin, I will not exchange a word — they are out of the reach of reasoning. That man must loork his way into the moral and intellectual rank for which he is designed, appears most clearly from his past and present condition. The peculiar mischief of the error to which I allude is, that its supporters would fix mankind upon ?i. pe- culiar spot, in the line of this originally intended pro- gress. This is essentially implied in the notion of that personal revelation which is supposed to be made to some privileged person, in order that it may re- main as an infallible, and consequently unchangeable rule, for ever. This view is in direct contradiction with the fact, that mankind was, by God, intended 78 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS for progress. If mankind is progressive, tlie intellec- tual and moral model, at which he must aim, must be constantly assuming more and more distinct forms. That model is indeed one, and unchangeable, but the perception of its true forms must be gradual : dis- tance and darkness — the weakness of the unprac- tised intellectual eye, must distort those forms, at all times, to the view of men who are, either individually or collectively, children. But here is the melancholy effect of all sacerdotal religions. At some one stage of this infancy a (supposed) perfect revelation of the infinite model is published, and, however perfect in it- self, is at once blended with the imperfect conceptions of those who record it ; and this imperfect sketch is placed for ever under the guardianship of supersti- tious fear, between the Mind's eye and the true model of divine perfection, whose direct revelations of goodness and beauty it hopelessly intercepts. The permission of such evils would be a greater difficulty to the belief of a personal Deity, than all the bodily suflPerings of the sensitive creation, if a provision to remedy them might not be discovered by a deep and dispassionate examination of the subject. The universality and power of the religious tendency in man are undeniable. It must be granted that, like all other tendencies, its first activity takes a wrong direction. The religious tendency of man appears, without exception, in the shape of Idolatry. Man cannot help believing in an intelligent , personal Power above him ; but that power appears to him perfectly AND CORRESPONDENCE. 79 analogous to himself. The course of this original deviation from the true direction towards religious truth, appears full of monstrosities all over the face of the earth ; but as the original impulse is never exhausted, we must believe that its misdirection will be observed and corrected, in proportion to the in- crease of intellectual light which experience and its result, civilization, bring with them. Unfortunately, Priests and enthusiasts stand in the way of this gra- dual improvement : they stop it every where, in the name of Heaven, and persecute all those who encou- rage the development of the human mind. The ori- ginal impulse is, nevertheless, too strong to be fully and permanently opposed. That same craving after the invisible source of our being which degenerates, at first, into extravagant idolatry, urges a certain number of thinking men to ransack, as it were, both the external and internal world, in the pursuit of that truth. There is, of course, much bewilderment in this process, especially under the irritating oppo- sition which the ministers and slaves of the esta- blished religions oppose to it. But all is in vain — the search continues in spite of external persecution, and frequent internal disappointment. At length men are induced to look within themselves, where the perennial fountain of good lies concealed. To this really providential process it is that we owe the advance of Mental Philosophy — the only faithful guide that can lead us out of the chaos of error in which society (especially in England) is sunk. The 80 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS light of this philosophy is nothing else but the light which may be elicited from within every human mind not brutalized by ignorance and passion. When it shall have spread itself sufficiently, among those whom Providence appoints every where to take the I'ational lead, — when the painful, and it may be horrible de- struction of the existing obstacles shall have cleared the way for the operation of the rational influences — it will be found that true philosophy may extend its blessed influence even to the lowest ranks of a so- ciety, where the corrupting extremes of luxury, which makes men insolent, and poverty, which makes them desperate, will not exist. Finished a Letter on the dangers of Ordination. * ^' August 24th, 1839. " The Moral Dangers of Ordination in Churches which, supported by the State, demand Subscription to Arti- cles of Faith, " My dear young Friend, " I have lately congratulated you upon your great success in obtaining the highest literary honours * I have so altered the subjoined Letter, as to prevent its betraying the name of the person for whom I intended it. I abstained from sending it, by the advice of my son, who was persuaded that my obser- vations would have produced pain and uneasiness, without preventing the impending evil. AND CORRESPONDENCE, 81 which the University of Oxford bestows on men of your standing. If these honours do not place you in the highest ranks of external dignity, they certainly vouch for a degree of knowledge which will frequently be looked for in vain, among those who display the most pompous marks of distinction. As I contri- buted, in a certain measure, to your being placed in a situation where you have both developed your talents, and given the most satisfactory proofs of your excellent character, — as I had the happiness (for such I deem it) of averting the danger, in which you were, of being torn away from the books you so heartily loved, still a boy, and finding yourself doomed to the drudgery of some trade, the prosperous issue of your examination for Honours has in a great degree made your triumph my own, and raised my spirits as if I had had a more direct influence in the acquisition of your academical laurels. " But in the midst of this joy at your success, my mind has for many days been contending against a cloud of fear and uneasiness, in regard to certain most serious dangers which inevitably attend it. To be explicit at once : I fear that you consider yourself already bound in pure gratitude to your University friends, to take Orders in the Church of England, as soon as you arrive at the age demanded by the Canons : this is the source of my anxiety. I can most readily conceive the astonishment with which this plain statement of my feelings will fill you. You cannot but be shocked at my language : you must E 5 82 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS think me almost insane to represent your taking Orders as a serious danger. Such feehngs in you, my young friend, are not only natural, but creditable. I should think less favourably than I do of your temper and character, if, in your circumstances, you were a total stranger to them. Your heart must have been hard as a rock, if it had been impervious to the mass of soft and enticing influences which have worked upon it from the time of your birth, have increased in intensity during your youth, and lately burst with the most attractive vehemence within your breast. What you feel is a work of de- lusion— of cruel, grossly interested delusion ; but what does your kind soul know of such delusion — a delu- sion contrived by policy, deeply disguised under the shape of Godly zeal, and not unfrequently aided and supported by sincere but mistaken piety ? " Such, I grieve to say, is the actual state of things in England. The country is covered with snares of all kinds, for the purpose of strengthening the power of the Clergy, or, as the promoters of hie- rarchical power call it — the Church. Open your still unsuspecting eyes, and observe with what cruel ob- stinacy all kind of instruction is denied to the Poor unless they receive it in conjunction with the theo- logical tenets contained in the 39 Articles. Exa- mine, what you best know, the magnificent establish- ment in which you have been educated ; and though your view of the vast field of knowledge must be still rather confined, you will soon be convinced, that AND CORRESPONDENCE. 83 the University of Oxford is not a foundation for the enlargement and perfecting of that knowledge, but^ on the contrary, an engine to keep it confined to the narrow limits, within which it does not threaten the immediate destruction of the obsolete philosophy and criticism, which are the basis of the Church- System. For a proof of this assertion I will apply to you. You have been a diligent student; you have shown yourself capable of every variety of in- struction. Yet, after having laboured so strenuously that, at the approach of your final examination, you felt your mind almost ready to be paralysed by long over-exertion, is not your knowledge, I will ask you, though valuable in itself, almost inapplicable to the great interests of our moral and intellectual life ? You have acquired the elements of pure and mixed Mathematics, and have proved yourself a great pro- ficient in Greek and Latin ; you have studied most minutely some of the Classics, and could give ready answers as to their contents. But has the University afforded you the means of obtaining a philosophical view of the history of Man ? Have you a distinct knowledge of the relative place which the literature you have so faithfully studied, occupies in the progres- sive growth of our present mental state ? — You have been obliged to study what is called Divinity, as an indispensable condition of your being approved in the Schools. But what is that Divinity ? Is it not the continuation of the Catechism, which in your infancy was forced upon your helpless mind ; of the positive 84 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS assertions of all those whom nature bade you respect^ — assertions supported by spiritual fears implanted in your innocent heart — assertions repeated with the most imposing solemnity every week from the pulpit? Were you allowed to be instructed at the Grammar School, to which you did so much credit, unless you professed yourself a Member of the Church of Eng- land ? "Was not this the condition of your being admitted of King^s College, London? Could you be matriculated at Oxford except you subscribed the 39 Articles ? " Melancholy, indeed, is the Slavery by which you have purchased both your instruction and your Uni- versity honours. Yet, if that purchase were final, if you might enjoy the advantages, which at this moment lie justly within your reach, I should not feel alarmed for you, as I do at this moment : I should not tremble for you when I consider the al- lurements which smile on you on the one hand, and the evils which bar your retreat from the Gates of the Church, and threaten you, if you should attempt to establish an honest independence of mind. I see the Church inviting yon to bind yourself to the support of her system — that system which has been inculcated upon you, exactly by the means which would have been employed, with equal success, to make you profess any theory of religion whatever. If you take Orders, the probabilities are great that you will prosper ; but, if you step out of the path which leads to preferment, your prospects lose all AND CORRESPONDENCE. 85 their cheerfulness. It is true that your abilities are such that, either at the Bar, or by means of a Pro- fessorship, or even by private tuition, you might es- tablish yourself comfortably in the world. I know^ however, too well the pain that your affectionate heart would have to endure, from the loss of all warm interest on the part of your clerical friends, — which would be the result of any of these steps. '^ Not to disguise my convictions in regard to your- self, I must confess that I am endeavouring to open your eyes, under a feeling of despondency. At the very time when I write this letter I have resolved riot to let you see it. I am fully convinced that my observations would only disturb your mind; that they would be a source of pain and alarm, unattended by the smallest chance of your deliverance. The net in which you are taken is inextricable. Here, indeed, I would drop the pen, were it not that by keeping your melancholy case in my mind^s eye, I hope to state my views on the subject of Ordination, with more energy than if I had no distinct image of a real person, — and, indeed, of one for whom I feel the greatest interest, — to rouse my mind. There may be a few, who being placed in a similar danger, are yet less oppressed by the thick atmosphere of super- stition than yourself. The thought that one of these may be rescued, allays, though in a very slight de- gree, my pain at not being able to deliver you. I will, nevertheless, allow myself to imagine that I am actually addressing you. 86 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS " You will not deny that human ingenuity cannot devise one method of pre-occupying a young mind in favour of any religious system, which has not been most powerfully practised upon yourself. I do not, here, question the truth of the system : let it be as true as its staunch supporters conceive it ; this is no reason why you should have been almost totally dis- abled to judge of it, fairly and independently. The system may be true; but you have been made to hold it as a prejudice. It is mockery to say that you have been taught to answer objections. I protest to you, my dear young friend, upon the good faith of an honest man, that you have never been brought to a fair view of any such objections. Were you to examine the mere secondary questions of Episcopacy and Infant Baptism, not as stated by those who have bound themselves to defend the Orthodox side, but by the able and deeply-learned men whose con- viction in favour of the opposite opinion made them renounce the advantages of Conformity, you would be infinitely perplexed. Yet, if you mean to take Orders, you will be obhged to bind yourself by so- lemn subscription, not only to maintain the truth of the Articles relating to these two questions, but the whole of that complicated system of theology which is professed by the Church of England. I repeat, that I do not wish to persuade you that such a sys- tem is erroneous : but I cannot conceal from you the fact of its being exceedingly doubtful. Had you suf- ficient time and leisure to examine the theology and AND CORRESPONDENCE. 87 discipline to which your subscription will be de- manded, I should only encourage you to undertake that task in earnest ; but believe an old man whose experience has been as large as it is painful, — an examination, which might enable you to sign the Articles, with moral safety — considering that both your mind and feelings have been so long enlisted on the orthodox side — such an examination as might save your conscience in the eyes of God, if you fell into error, would require the study of four or five years, under the guidance of some person who could direct you to the true sources of information. " I tremble for you, when I consider what may be your state in the course of a few years after ordi- nation. In the sudden transition which a young man undergoes from the plain state of a layman to the dignity of a clergyman, an ingenuous, affectionate heart is so overpowered by tenderness on seeing the extreme joy of his parents, especially of his mother, — it becomes so full of prospects of utility, so happy in the congratulations of friends, so excited at the ap- proach of the day when it is to be poured out from the reading desk and the pulpit, that it cannot con- ceive the possibility of ever being disturbed by doubt. But such impressions are not permanent. It must be confessed that there are minds, whom nature has made impervious to even the slightest suspicion of error in the religious system of their youth, their country, and their party. But very dif- ferent is the case of an active mind, especially when 88 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS supported by a delicate conscience. To individuals of this temper, doubts against what they have pro^ fessed so heartily, in youth, are extremely unwel- come ; but they cannot dismiss them by an act of the TVill. Their talents and diligence are employed in finding satisfactory answers : and indeed, at first, their success is encouraging. Some new view comes to their relief, which they treasure up in their bo- soms as invaluable, and which, in order to enjoy it more and more, is constantly brought before the mind to be re-examined. Unfortunately this re- peated examination generally ends in finding some flaw which shows the answer to have been a fallacy. Another and another answer presents itself and is followed by the same disappointment. The agony of the honest clergyman exceeds all description as soon as he is convinced that One article at least must be put aside, and covered under the thin veil, that it is an article of Conformity, not of Faith. But the wound is not healed by any of the numerous eva- sions, which pass more current amongst the Clergy than the mass of their hearers suspect. The de- structive process however may not stop here : in re- gard to certain minds it is impossible it should ; for to tell you plainly and in the sight of Heaven the result of my long and faithful examination, tlie cer- tainty of belief which is demanded for the ivhole system of Church Christianity , infinitely exceeds the sound- ness of the principles on which it is built. It is on this point that I wish to fix your attention ; the AND CORRESPONDENCE. 89 rational foundations of tliat system (and surely tlie supernatural must not be grounded again on tlie supernatural— ?i rational beginning must be found for the admission of divine interference and autbo- rity) — the rational foundations^ I repeat, of Cliurcb Christianity are totally disproportionate to the assur- ance demanded. This is the result of my whole life, and with this acknowledged result I am lingering, alas, too long ! on the brink of the grave, ready to give my account to my Maker. " I will now conclude, though, if I can muster a little strength, I may continue to write upon this subject, though not to force my observations upon you, unless you positively wish to become acquainted with them. My duty to you has been already ful- filled.— Were it not for the tyranny of Subscription, were it not for the unfeelingness of popular opinion, supported by law^ in regard to the engagements of a Clergyman, a young man, in your circumstances, might venture into the Ministry, with security of conscience, under the conviction, that should he find his office and his reason at variance, he might pur- sue another profession, or means of living ; with personal loss, unquestionably, but, at all events, with safety from scandal and abuse. But in the present state of things, every young man who takes Orders exposes himself to the possible alter- native of being, his whole life, a hypocrite or a MARTYR. I say the danger is possible; yet it is a danger of such magnitude that the mere possibility 90 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS is enough to appal any man who loves God and his duty. " That He may preserve you from such a danger, is the prayer of your affectionate Friend, *' J. B. W." 25th. Finished a general examination of Gieseler's Ec- clesiastical History. 29th. I am reading with great pleasure and advantage Degerando, du Perfectionnement Moral. It is a practical view of Morals, written by a man who thoroughly feels what he teaches. Though he avoids theory, yet in treating of Liberty he falls into some of the common sophisms relative to that very difficult subject. In my opinion the usual controversy arises from a confusion of terms, and from a deep-rooted fear of disturbing social morality. . The important distinction between libertas a necessitate and libertas a coactionCj is seldom attended to. Nothing what- ever can force my will : every man is more or less conscious of that fact ; but at the same time we are, or may be, equally conscious that we are never decided without a motive. Degerando urges the case of a criminal in a dungeon. *^ Mais quoi ! le prisonnier captif dans un cachot est prive de tout ce que vous AND CORRESPONDENCE. 91 decorez du nom de liberte (this is an assumption; nobody in his senses can say so) cependant il medite de commettre de nouveaux forfaits N 'est il done pas encore coupable ? S'il est coupable, il est done libre_, meme dans les fers/' — Vol. i. p. 62. What thinking man ever did deny it? ^^11 est cou- pable^' means_, he is not what he ought to be. Why is he so ? — Ans. Because he will not be better. Why again, will he not be better ? Ans. Because he is free : so that a man is good because he is free, and is wicked because he is free : a strange cause which produces two opposite effects. — No man, I believe, did ever experience the absence of all motives, ex- cept his freedom. In all such arguments there is a confusion of Will — free- Will, andDmre — blind-Will- I think the best definition of Will is this : Free- will is the faculty which can control Desire. Is this Will equally powerful in all men ? This is what no speculation can ascertain. The Will is equally free from compulsion in all men ; but is it equally unseducible by Desire ? Well, then, it will be urged again : " Men sin necessarily.-'^ I auswer, they sin wilfully ; they do that which they ought not to do, and are guilty, i. e. they must bear the consequences. The moral worth of men depends on the degree of control which their Will has over theu' desires. This is perfectly true. I believe that the Free Will of Man is in accordance with his Conscience or Bea- son — "to will is present with me; but to perform that which is good I find not (says St. Paul, from 92 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS his own experience), for I delight in the law of God after the inward man." The inward man is the Free Will; the flesh are the blind desires. The inward man does not perform his natural office unless he subdues the outward to his control : in whatever de- gree he either fails to conquer or is conquered, in that degree he is not what he should be : he is not good, i.e. he is wicked. But as to his deserts, whether for reward or punishment, only God can judge, who knows the relative strength of the Controller and the Rebel in each individual. The same day. Gieseler, Part II., pp. 22, 23, has some interesting quotations relating to the holy fool St. Boniface, the apostle, as he is called, of the Germans. His nar- rowness of mind is equal to his persecuting spirit. His subjection to the Church of Rome is quite pue- rile. The precepts of that church are equally absurd and childish. The Pope Gregory III. writes to the Bishop that he is shocked at hearing that some of the Germans had feasted upon a wild horse : immun- dum enim est et execrabile. Boniface wished to know what kinds of food were lawful, and what kinds unlawful. The Pope answers that neither crows, nor rooks, nor storks, were lawful for Christians ; " much more should badgers, and hares, and wild horses be avoided. But you are well aware about (these things?) from the Scriptures. (That is, he refers AND CORRESPONDENCE. 93 to Leviticus.) You also ask llo^Y long must bacon be kept before it is eaten. The Fathers have left us no directions about it. But as you ask advice, we will give it you, namely, it should not be eaten till it is dried by smoke, or dressed by fire. But if people like to eat it raw, let them wait till after Easter l^-* The next passage is from a letter of Boniface to Pope Zachary, a most violent accusation against two Heretics, as he calls them. In this letter he charges one of them with introducing Judaism by allowing a man to marry his wife^s sister-in-law. Yet this blockhead and his Pope did not think of the Judaism of the diflFerence of food which they enforced accord- ing to Leviticus. Aug. 31st. Finished reading the first four volumes of Mi- ch elet^s Hist, de France, an admirable work. I hope the continuation will soon be out. Sept. 2nd, 1839. A miserable night. My mind full of the project of having one, or two, of my nieces Beck here. Tried crutches, with no success whatever : the effort made me almost faint. Wrote to Captain Curtain, asking what is to be done if I obtain a promise of the pur- chase-money.* [* For his son's Captaincy.] 94 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS 4tll. For several days I have read Lucian in bed, early in the morning. No one who reads extracts only can know the merits of that admirable writer. 12th. As usual, suffering miserably, and remaining, to U appearances, stationary in point of life. I have read Lucian^s Treatise de Hist. Conscri- bendd; it is a very able piece of criticism. Two pas- sages have particularly fixed my attention. One of these I might make my motto ; he applies it to his- torians in general : IbLovy OvTiov Ty dXri6d<}. The other is an illustration, of which he avails himself, to urge the writers of history to forget their contemporaries and look to posterity. He says that the architect of the Alexandrian Pharos covered a part of the building with stucco, on which he in- scribed the name of the reigning sovereign. Under this coat of plaster, however, he engraved on the rock the following inscription : ^ivarparog Ae^i> .o . 09 .2 3 -a "bb 3 o O , Mercator, villa commo 1720. 1 5*3 eexT ia ta § 2 D 3 3 e o o CO ^^2 o o 2'a3 CO 2 2 s • • •Is ?1 ; o Q 1 • * rl a ^ ft Bh ^ •5 e3T3 ^3 — •13 be s 9) "bb 1-3 H ia Mauriti own, Equil aria Drum s 3 1^ "ts ^ ee o .2 • J8 < o o 7Z *^ ! ^ o ^S ^ . C h. ►^ .3 . * M • i •s ^ "S u >H (U o d ■!-• -ts . 3 C ... • « CO If fe 3 a 3 — 3-,3 ^3 05 3 1^ (1) Richai e Richardsto-\ Lugensi, Thoma de Richardst( (2) Edwan e Civitate Du Patriciu e Civitate Du (3) Thorn Civitate Wate O 'a •o •o ~ O ^ e ■=>. 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'S g ? 3 S a 0 a 01 Si 5 CO ^ S p^ •5? a e ^ 5 ^ a s a ^ CO Ck p'2 316 APPENDIX. Copy of an Original Document now in my Brother s pos- session. Omnibus Christi fidelibus ad quos prsesentes literae per- venerint, nos infrascripti de Clero Catholico Rom. Civitatis Waterfordiee in regno Hibernise, salutem in Domino. — Cum pium sit ac honestum veritati testimonium perhibere, ne error aut deceptio prsejudicii ipsam opprimat ; cumque Do- minus Gullielmus White, Hispali in Hispania degens, testi- monium a nobis de fide et genere authenticum postulasset, Nos igitur postulato tam justo libenter annuendo, tenore prsesentium, fidem facimus ac testamur prsedictum D. Guil- lielmura White, ex legitimo matrimonio natum, filium esse D. Thomse White, ex antiquissima domo Whitorum de Leixlip et D^- Marise Nangle, necnon baptizatum juxta ri- tum S. R. Ecclesise per Rev™- D°*- Joannem Fobyn, pasto- rem Ecclesise parochialis SS'"^* Trinitatis, 22° Augusti A.D. 1 689, adstante patrino D. Martino Walsh, de hac civitate, et matrina D^- Anna Nangle, de eadem civitate. Insuper testamur praedictum D. Guillielmum White, necnon paren- tes ejus ac majores, tam ex parte paterna quam materna (quoad scire unquam potuimus) ab omni hseresis, infideli- tatis, infamise aut impuri sanguinis nota semper iramunes, tenaces orthodoxse fidei alumnos extitisse; quinimmo propter constantem fidei Catholicse Romanse professionem bonorum jacturam, serumnasque plurimas fuisse perpessos. In quo- rum fidem manu nostra subscripsimus Waterfordise die duo- decima mensis Octobris millesimo septingentesimo decimo tertio. 1713 stylo veteri = Joannes Higgins, Rector Eccl. S^'- Olai, Waterfordiensis = Paulus Bellew, Rector Eccl. ggms. Trinitatis, Waterfordiensis = Joannes Kenedy, Pas- tor Ecclse. Kilbarriensis = Edmundus Everard, Rector Eccl. S"- Patritii, Waterfordiensis. ( 317 ) APPENDIX II. LETTERS TO LORD HOLLAND, RELATING TO THE SE- MANARIO PATRIOTICO AND THE ESPANOL.* The Semanario Patriotico, (Vol. L p. 145— 5L) Seville, 30th of May, 1809. My Lord, A light indisposition which I have suffered these past days, and of which I am not entirely recover'd, has pre- vented me from the pleasure of writing to you, and giving you my gratefull thanks for the observations upon the me- thod of joining the cause of Ferdinand to that of Liberty. Would to God that such a party should exist in favour of that unhappy monarch, which could be gained for the bene- fit of their object, and for the good of our country : That I easily conceive could be done. But let me observe, my Lord, that the part of the Spanish people which has cordi- ally espoused the cause of Ferdinand are no ennemys to the reformation of our constitution ; the lovers of Liberty are engaged with such adversarys as will never be gained by this kind of stratagem, and can be only conquered by force. The kind reception that the generallity of our people has given to our Semanario, the joy with which they listen to [* In order not to destroy the signs of a gradual acquisition of his masterly knowledge and use of our language, the most perfect perhap« ever attained by a foreigner, these Letters, the earliest of his English MSS., are printed without even an orthographical correction.] 318 APPENDIX. the claims for a reformation, and the eagerness with which they read the impugnations of a certain kind of prejudices, are more than sufficient proof of the happy dispositions they entertain in favour of the real improvements of our nation. But we will never give the change to that party which, under the name of Ferdinand's rights, direct their exertions to the only point of perpetuating their power and all our evils. You know well how the general expectation was turned to the promise of a constitution ; you now see how cruelly we have been deceived ; for so must be say'd after the ambiguous decree of our Junta. What can we expect from the deputees of the Cortes that by no means will be the true representatives of the nation, and according to the old corrupted style, will be taken amongst our Gran- dees, our Marquises, our Bishops, and our Regidores, with- out the lest knowledge of the people ? And how do you think the Cortes will be prepared by a Commitee, where none but the greatest enemys of our rights will sit, Mr. Jo- vellanos excepted ? What a feeble barrier to the attempts of such a party ! The man who prevented the publication of our friend's manifesto, the man who can never agree in the opinion of the original sovereignty of the People ! Ex- cuse, my Lord, the strong feelings of my heart. I pay the greatest respect to the knowledge and virtues of this ho- nourable man, but I cannot trust to him alone the defence of our Liberty. Such is, to my sight, the disagreable situation of busi- ness, that all my hopes are turning into despondency. Per- haps, not been accustomed to deal in public affairs, I am too sensible both to wishes and fears. But may not an unhappy end confirm my suspicions ! I have not yet written to Mr. Cobbet : I have the letter APPENDIX. 319 almost done, but as I am very little confident of ray Eng- lish, I require a great leisure to write to a man whose good- ness is not well known to me as yours is. You may be sure, my Lord, that your observations will be always agreable and instructive to me, and that I will make use of them in the first opportunity. Be so kind as to present my humble respects to Lady Holland. I am, my Lord, yours faithfully, J. M. Blanco. Seville, 10th of June, 1809. My Lord, I have seen with the greatest pleasure the approbation you are so kind as to give to my little Discourse on the accord of Monarchy and Liberty ; and you may be sure that your friendly advices will be allways beneficial both to my publication and to the cause of our country. I there- fore adopt the idea of writing another Discourse upon the plan you propose to me about nobility, which will be an appendix to a few lines on Equality that are already pre- pared for publishing. The hurry in which I am obliged to write keeps me always short from the perfection to which, according to my feeble talents, I would endeavour to reach ; but I will be very happy if I can by these means excite the curiosity and interest of my countrymen for public bussnes. I am, my Lord, yours, J. M. Blanco. 320 APPENDIX. Seville, the 20th of Juin, 1809. My Lord, I am very sorry to tell you that I have been stopped in my scheme of writing the Discourse upon Nobility, by our friend Quintana's advice. As we cannot write upon this subject without pursuing the many abuses which are the beloved objects of our Gentry, he thinks not proper to awake their pride, neither to give them the alarm against the general reformation. It is true that I cannot prevail upon myself not to give some strong hints against those prejudices, whenever I find an occassion. Though I ac- knowledge the advantages of that conciliating manner of writing which you recommend to me, I must own that I cannot temperate my indignation, when I consider this hi- deous crowd of Grandees, Hidalgos, and Churchmen, who will never be gained to any thing favourable to the good principles. Our friend, who is pretty inclined to this dis- position of mind, prefers the adjournment of the struggle against the usurpations of our Nobility, to the necessity of yielding in the least to their extravagant pride. I assure you it must be a struggle, and no kind of transaction is a sufficient remedy. There is hardly a man in Spain who is not a nobleman : you will find, even amongst the beggars, who will boast of his ancestors. The generallity of this prejudice making it ridiculous, renders it in a great manner harmless in the populous towns ; but it is not so in the vil- lages, where two or three familys of hidalgos are sufficient to ruin all their neighbours, and to keep the poor in the most intolerable state of abjection. Nobility in our large towns is a sort of foolishness ; in the country, a right to tyranny. We must leave Nobility stand as an unavoidable evil ; but how shall we contrive to put all our hidalgos to APPENDIX. 321 one level, which is absolutely necessary ? How can they be reduced to believe that a man who is newly incorporated in the Gentry must be entitled to equall rights with those who can show their genealogy to the age of the Deluge ? Every family has a measure of their own to calculate the degrees of nobility, and every town is subdivided in many classes of hidalguia, whose members have no intercourse, no civil commerce one with the others. I cannot pass over these considerations, and will rather be silent for some time upon this point, than to be indulgent to this kind of people. This is also the origin of our silence upon the Decree of Convocation. Every day I am more and more persuaded of the unlawfull intentions which are there concealed. The generality of our rulers are displaying in an unveiled man- ner the true caracter of the Roman decemvirs ; and we shall not be their support by praising, directly or indirectly, a Decree which they forward on purpose to appear as lovers of our rights, while they only aspire to perpetuate their power. I suppose that the introduction of our public paper in Germany ought to be the business of the Government : but they look more for an opportunity of forbidding the publi- cation, than to the means of giving it any degree of import- ance. At the publication of every numero we are sure of a motion against it. I have been delighted with Cowper's verses, and I would endeavour to translate them into Spanish, if the genius of our Poetry could admit so much of a didactical character as the English and French. Yours affectionately, J. M. Blanco. p5 322 APPENDIX. The Espanol. (Vol. I. p. 180—208.) [No date.] My Lord, I give you my warm thanks for the subscriptions to the Espanol, with which I have been favoured from your house, and most sincerely wish that it might by worthy of your approbation when published. I am not able to express the fatigue and trouble I have undergone in this first publica- tion. I thought I would have a coadjutor in Mr. Abella, but we could not agree in Principles, and I was left to my own exertions when the time was very much advanced. You may conceive what is correcting a Spanish book printed in England : this and every other mechanical part of the work, together with the rest of troublesome arrangements, have fallen upon me, and I very probably see that I can entertain no hopes of being relieved for the future. The Government appears not inclined to support the Espanol. All Mr. Wellesley's solicitations to his father in my favour, have proved hitherto inefficacious, and I do not expect that the appearance of the first number might change the Mar- quis's mind, as he very likely will never read it. Things being in this situation, I must augment my ex- ertions as far as it is my power, and endeavour to compen- sate the loss of a litterary speculation with the probable success of another, about which I take the liberty to request your advice. A selection of Spanish Old Comedies is a work which never has been performed. Huerta began his Teatro Espa- nol, but you know very well his corrupted taste and litterary extravagance. The work remained incomplete, and is by no APPENDIX. 323 means fit to give an idea of our stage. I think I would do a real service to the Amateurs of the Spanish language in England, by publishing a pretty edition which should con- tain the best plays of Lope de Vega, Moreto, and Calderon. A Preface, or introductory chapter, presenting a general view of the Spanish Comedy, and some critical remarks upon every play contained in the volume, would, I fancy, embellish the work and make it more interesting. In case you should think favourably of my plan, I am determined to steal some moments from the tedious Periodical Pam- phlet, and to pursue constantly, though slowly, this more flattering scheme. I am so confident of your goodness towards me, that I owe the first idea of this work to the recollection of your Spanish books. I therefore expect that you will have the kindness to let me know whether I might peruse those which I may want for my purpose. I am, my Lord, Most faithfully yours, Bla-nco White. P.S. I was just finishing this letter when I received your kind invitation, by the medium of Mr. Allen. I am very happy in admitting it, and shall have the pleasure to dine with you on Tuesday. 32, Upper Marylebone Street, July 10, 1810. My Lord, I am not surprised to hear Quintana's opinion about the first number of the Espanol, for though I honour myself 324 APPENDIX. with the profession of his same poHtical principles, we have never agreed in the consequences, especially when applied to the Central Junta. The candid and open character of Quin- tana induces him to believe the same, in people who are some- thing artfuU to counterfeit it. So, as far as I can judge, was D°- Martin de Garay, his great friend. There is no argu- ment in the world which would induce Quintana to believe Garay an intriguer, because he himself can never be one. Quintana has seen the Central Junta through Mr. Garay's descriptions, and therefore it is impossible that he may come to acknowledge my opinions thereupon, as correct. Although I can give this interpretation to so severe a censure as he gives about my paper, I am sorry to see my good friend adding, that my publication may excite dislike to the Spanish cause, when I only intended to excite indig- nation against a bad government, in order that the public opinion should be warned against any other of the same description, which might appear in the present circum- stances. I would certainly have made the apology of those worthy members of the Junta who never connived to the mischievous purpose of the others, had I had an oppor- tunity to do so at the time I wrote ray first number. I pay the highest respect to Jovellanos' virtues and learning ; but I would have appeared partial if, making his apology, I should omit to mention some others, who, though not so conspicuous in merit, are perhaps as innocent in the Junta's bad proceedings as he is. He chose, out of his principles of honour, to make his reclamations in secret : and when I examined the conduct of the Junta, I only could speak of what had appeared in the eyes of the people. But I eagerly accept the opportunity which his manu- script, so kindly offered by your Lordship, affords me, to APPENDIX. 325 give an account of his exertions in favour of the good prin- ciples. I will give an extract in my next number if I can call in time to Holland House, as I hope I shall be able to do. I repeat my professed veneration to your honourable friend, and I would feel extremely happy if I could contri- bute to restore the high opinion which he has always deserved, and which I could never be so wicked as to impair. Infantado's paper will also find a place in my publication ; but I long to see Venega's answer. I shall endeavour to be impartial; and therefore will suspend my judgement until I can see both one and the other's reasons. I am, with the highest respect. My Lord, Yours faithfully, J. Blanco White. July 31, 1810. My Lord, I received your letter, together with one of the Duke of Infantado, enclosed in the account of his campaign. The Duke's letter is full of kind compliments to me upon the subject of my first number, and of fears with regard to the opposition that it was likely my publication would meet on the part of the Spanish Government. Though I was determined to speak about the Cortes, which are lately convocated by the Regency, I had not my ideas set in order by the time I knew of the last decree, and, therefore, I promised some reflections upon this subject for my next number. It is indeed very difficult to give 326 APPENDIX. seasonable advice upon the manner in which the Cortes ought to be assembled, and, when assembled, to proceed in the present circumstances. Nothing is said in the Decree about the Deputies from the Towns which are now in the hands of the French. I really do not know whether it would be more advisable to form the Cortes with the depu- ties of those parts of Spain where the people is at liberty to elect them ; or whether they should be conditionally elected at Cadiz, as I understand is now the case. Would not the first method be more legal and popular } Would not the influence of the Government be suspected in the supple- mentary elections of the last ? I hope you will have the goodness to let me know your opinion upon the subject, and to suggest me what you think most convenient in the present complicated circumstances. I long to hear your opinion upon what I say in my 6th number about America. I assure you I have done every effort in my power to conquer my former propensity to theoretical principles of reform, in which I was rather too much imbibed to be cured entirely in the short space of five months, that I have been studying and admiring the prac- tical wisdom of the English system of politics. I have endeavoured to spare the feelings of the Regency, whilst I have told them what I conceived to be the truth. In praising the moderation of the Revolutionists of Caracas, I only had in view to recommend that virtue. I am sure they ought not to have mentioned the word Independence ; but the best remedy to oppose the influence of that word after it has been uttered is, I believe, to recommend by all means the allegiance to Ferdinand the 7th. This I have done in the last number, and I intend to insist very forcibly on it, in my next. Thus the Spanish Colonies will remain attached APPENDIX. 327 to the Empire of Spain, and can find no objection to send their deputies to a general meeting of the kingdom, as this will not be against their Domestic Independence. However, the pride and ambition of the Spanish Government will, very likely, destroy this scheme, which can be only sup- ported by moderation and forbearance. I would recom- mend the Regency to let the Americans call themselves independent from any government ad interim of the Penin- sula, while they would acknowledge Ferdinand the 7th as their monarch. But I perceive a misunderstanding of the word Representatives of Ferdinand the 7th, which has misled all the Governments of Spain, and which Jovellanos almost foresaw in his Report to the Central Junta, when he stated that they ought to assume that only part of the King's power which was necessary to the liberation of the country. This misconception of their faculties will be a great obstacle to the reconciliation of the Regency with the Americans. The circumstances of the Colonies entitle them to have a share in the representation of Ferdinand the 7th, entirely independent from those who represent him in Europe. This the Regency will name a rebelion, which, in my opinion, could be turned into an act of indissoluble union between the people of the Old and New World. I remain, my Lord, Most faithfully yours, J. Blanco White. 328 APPENDIX. Aug. 28, 1810. My Lord, It was with the greatest pleasure I saw by your kind letter that my opinion upon the affairs of South America perfectly coincided with yours. As I am determined to write with the only purpose of doing good, as far as it lays in my power, I felt very uneasy after venturing to speak upon this dehcate question, fearing always lest I had done some harm to either of the countries, which, very unluckily, we may call rivals at present. The arrival of our friend Ar- riaza increased my uneasiness ; for notwithstanding that politics are not very particularly his province, his friendly animadversions (as he chose to style them) augmented ray anxiety, and made me long for the relieve of approbation. This you were kind enough to bestow on me, and had so much the effect of inspiring me with confidence, that no- thing, I assure you, will be able to distract me from the course I have once began. But our wishes for the happiness of both Spaniards and Americans will never, I am afraid, be fulfilled. Neither of those countries are prepared to profit by a revolution. The absence of such obstacles as the reverses of war have thrown in the way of the Spaniards, might enable their country- men in America to obtain a beneficial reformation, were they led by well-meaning and impartial men, and were it not the interest of many to oppose all their efforts. But I can neither trust the intentions of the leaders, nor hush my fears with regard to their opponents. That unhappy division of the casts empowers the dissenters to excite the fire of a civil war, which if ever takes place among people so discordant in manners, opinions, and political situation. APPENDIX. 329 amongst numbers who will delight in carnage and plunder, never will be quenched but in floods of blood. I shall take every opportunity to warn them of their danger, although I am aware that remonstrances of this kind have no effect in such cases. The pride of the Europeans is so uncon- querable in America, that no sort of danger will deter them fi'om indulging their revenge. The conduct of the English Cabinet has been very pru- dent in this case, and the Duke of Alburquerque has be- haved in the most liberal manner, while his partner in the embassy was entreating the government to send an esqua- dron for the purpose of blockading Caracas and Buenos Ayres. However, I am sorry to say, the last very probably will prove the true interpreter of his government. Would you think proper to give a translation of that pamphlet about the rules of debate in the House of Com- mons, which I had in my power for some time in Spain ? Perhaps the Cortes would profit by it. If you are of this opinion, would you have the goodness to let me have a copy of the said pamphlet for a few days } I am, my Lord, with the greatest respect. Yours sincerely, J. Blanco White. September 25, 1810. My Lord, I have been hard at work since I received the favour of your last ; but I hope you will see very soon how much I have profited by your observations. I have only expressed what you point out in your remarks ; however I have no doubt that they will be of more service in Spain than any pompous discourse upon Theories. 330 APPENDIX. 1 don't know whether my journal has a great efiect ; what I may say is, that it makes a deal of noise in the free part of the Peninsula. Yesterday I received a number of letters from Portugal, asking for numbers, and assuring me of the great eagerness with which they are look for in that Kingdom. Romana, they tell me, caused the first dis- course to be printed at Badajoz, and sold and distributed among the people. When he left the Town for the Army, the Junta of that place arraigned the Printer for having done so ; but on his appealing to the general, the prosecu- tion subsided. Meantime, I must inform you that the Re- gency has passed a note against me. This I know to a certainty. You can guess from this their inclination to establish the liberty of the press. Mr. Wellesley has spoken to me, and my determination has been to write a letter to the Marquis, giving him thanks for the protection he be- stowed on my work, by ordering one hundred* copies, but giving up also my claim to the continuation of this favour, if it can give birth to the least misunderstanding. I will go on steadily ; reason, cold reason, will be my language ; but I will face those petty tyrants of the Regency even if I were to be reduced to the last corner of the earth. I hope this Government feels no inclination to molest me ; but in such case I am confident from your goodness and friendship, you will direct me how to sustain my claims. I have now a certificate about my family, and I beg you will let me know which is the law in favour of the grandsons of British natives. I request of you most eagerly to let me have your obser- [* See vol. i. p. 188; where from memory the number is stated as two or three dozen.] APPENDIX. 331 vations upon everything that you might think useful! to the cause of Spain, for which my interest increases, as the obstacles increase that oppose its happiness. I am, my Lord, Ever yours, J. Blanco White. October 1, 1840. My Lord, I received in due time your esteemed letter, in which you had the goodness to state the two Acts of Parliament, upon which I might probably ground my claims to the rights of a British subject ; for this as for all your kindness and friend- ship towards me, I will feel indebted to you for ever. It is my intention to take the advice of some eminent lawyer, for which purpose the information I owe to you will be of a great deal of service. I hope I shall never be in need to avail myself of such privileges,- for I wont forget the mo- deration zxidi forbearance you have taught me to insist upon ; though I feel how difficult a task it is to keep within these limits, when my ennemies spare no kind of arms against me, and bestow upon my name and character every sort of abuse. I long to hear your opinion about the sixth number of the Espanol. The number of official and interesting docu- ments which I have published, prevented me from the plea- sure to introduce some part of Conciliator s letters, as I was determined to do. But I hope there will be time enough to make use of that excellent production. The affairs of America, as far as I conceive, are in a very 332 APPENDIX. bad situation, and either the civil war will destroy every good prospect in that country, and excite a decided French party, or the Revolutionist shall be crushed, and the op- pression carried to a more intolerable degree than ever was before. These are the effects of the proud ignorance of the Spanish Government. As you do me the honour to take an interest in all my concerns, I take the liberty to inclose a copy of the letter which I wrote to Lord Wellesley about the Espanol. I hope it will meet with your approbation. I remain, my Lord, Yours most faithfully, J. Blanco White. 23rd October. My Lord, I was just about taking the pen to congratulate you upon the assembling of the Cortes, when I received the honour of your interesting letters. The moment I heard of this most glorious event, my mind was turned to you, and in the flow of feelings which overspread my heart, the anxious desire of sharing and witnessing your joy, was certainly very prominent. I fancied I could guess your opinions upon every particular, and after the perusal of your letters, am proud to find a remarkable coincidence of my very first sen- timents, with those you have had the goodness to impart me. One of your opinions, I must avow, and a very im- portant one, had escaped me ; that is, upon the impropriety of Campmany's motion. The glitter of popularity had de- ceived me, and I thought it a bold step towards that longed for liberty which we could hardly believe as a possible APPENDIX. 333 blessing in Spain. Your arguments are unanswerable, I confess. There is a real harm done to the country in de- priving it from the services of the worthiest and best known characters. But don't you conceive a temporary and most important benefit arising from the popularity the Cortes must have gained by the adoption of this measure ? The actual Cortes of Spain must endeavour to establish their in- fluence upon the public opinion. The people of Spain, after the uninterrupted scene of corruption which has been so long before their eyes, have become suspicious in a high degree, and nothing but a conspicuous delicacy and disin- terestedness will destroy the seeds of displeasure that would probably sprout after the first enthusiasm subsides. I should think that the rule ne quid nimis, the very great use of which I have learned from you in politics, might be dis- pensed with, in everything relating to put a stop to the cor- ruption which has hitherto arisen in Spain from the anxious desire of obtaining a situation or employment. I would not dare to speak against this measure immediately after its being adopted, for fear of loosing the influence I may have among the friends of liberty. A few months will be suffi- cient to establish the credit of the Cortes, if they proceed as they have began : then, I can conceive, your argu- ments would appear in all their force and light, and an amendment might be proposed to the act, now passed, with an applause, that proves the best disposition of mind in all those who have bestowed it on the measure. Notwithstanding my former objection to the two Cham- bers, I am pretty well cured of my bond Jide Jacobinism, to agree upon the great use of this separation of the represen- tatives of the people, in order to avoid the evils of precipi- tation and surprize. I further acknowledge the injustice 334 APPENDIX. done to the Grandees, in not allowing them a representation in Cortes. My next Espanol is almost printed, and I can say but few words about these points ; but I will endeavour to prepare the way to useful discussions. What they want first of all is rules of proceeding. I intend to insist upon this topic. Mr. Bentham has written me a very polite letter, and made me a present of part of his work upon the Tactics of Popular Assemblies, which was printed as a specimen of the rest. I shall endeavour to find room for a short extract of his six rules of debate, which are very near the same as those of the House of Commons. How is it that Quintana is not in the list of the Deputies } I am intimately ackwainted to Zorraquin and Rodrigo, and I intend to write them a letter ; but I scarcely have time, as over the Espanol I have always some little work from some friend or other, which takes the moments I could otherwise spare. I am, my Lord, Yours faithfully, J. Blanco White. (Vol. I. p. 202—4.) 26th Oct. 1810. My Lord, Nothing but the kind interest you have the goodness to take for me could sooth the smartness of the wound I have received from a beloved hand, in that cruel libel published in the Observador. I really dont know what an honest man can answer to the enormous injuries contained in that APPENDIX. 335 paper. My prevalent feeling is a kind of stupefaction, con- sidering how has it been possible that my name should be published at Cadiz with the epithets of a monster, and a cor- ruptor of the public morals, in a town crowded with my former friends. But now I am practically convinced that I had not one among them. You will soon see my 7th number. I insist on my argu- ments, and only allow myself an allusion to the ill-treatment of some of my countrymen. There is even a new, and a very powerful! reason for the Cortes to decide the question in favour of the Americans : that is, the insurrection of the New Kingdom of Granada. I suppose you must have seen the proclamation of the people of S**- Fe, published in the Morning Post of the 21st. It is a matter of surprize to me, to see this subservient Ministerial Paper hastening to forward this piece of information. I suppose the Ministers feel the necessity of liberal measures in this important affair. I have seen Mr. Dumont. His conversation has been very consoling in my situation. The papers you have had the goodness to send me have been of great service for my next number. I am sorry I have neither room, nor time, to say what occurs to me upon the Cortes. It will be always said in time if they proceed as they have begun. Pray remember me to Lady Holland. I depend upon her pitying this poor Spanish Outlaw. I remain, my Lord, Yours faithfully, J. Blanco White. 2, Carleton Place, St. Alban's St. 836 APPENDIX. 7th Nov. My Lord, I am very sorry I was at my Printer's when you did me the honour to call this morning. I will begin to write about the Reglamento for the liberty of the press as soon as I can have an original copy in Spanish. Will you have the goodness to send it to me if you have one } The papers you did me the favour to lend me are now ready for you again, and I will send them back as soon as possible. Some other newspapers from Spain have arrived lately in town, if I am not mistaken, but I have seen none. My uneasiness about the liberty of the Press has increased when I have heard the names of some of the members comprising the Tribunal. Arguelles and his enlightened supporters must have been overwhelmed by the dreadfull influence of the Clergy. Have you heard of Lasauca ? He was the man who, being Regente of Oviedo, imprissoned Jovellanos, and took him as a criminal through the streets of that town in the middle of the day. He was the Judge appointed to pass sentence on the Vizcayans who rose against the tyrannical influence of the Prince of the Peace. Together with a man of this character, Riega, and the Bishop of Palencia, Bejarano — the first the prototype of ignorance and stubborness, the second of fanaticism — are chosen to support the liberty of the Press. And Quintana is with them ! I long to see the names of the other mem- bers ; but am almost sure that the bad party will be by far the strongest. Have you seen a pamphlet lately published in London against me ? It is a master piece of Mr. Arriaza's wit. I am entirely decided not to mention a word about such lampoons. To answer the injuries, and sarcasms with APPENDIX. 337 which they abound, must be very tedious to my readers. As to reasons or arguments, they state nothing that I have not answered beforehand a thousand times. What can I say to people who are determined to see every thing upside down ? What I am very sorry for is, the sad turn which the affairs of America have taken ; it will be overflowed with blood. I remain, with sincere respect, My Lord, Ever yours, J. Blanco White. Edgeware Road, May 22nd, 1813. My dear Lord Holland, I live so much out of the world that I did not know you were gone to Brighton until this very moment, when I have received your letter. It is, indeed, exceedingly kind of you to remember me among the bustle of a watering-place, when I thus appear to forget you in my retirement. But I assure you that I have scarcely had time to take a walk in the fields for the sake of my health ; such has been the number of translations which I have had lo make this last month, besides the never-ending Espanol. — But as soon as this month is over, if you should still be at Brighton by the beginning of the next, I shall, positively, do myself the pleasure of paying you a visit : so that if I do not hear from you to the contrary, T shall be with you on the 2nd of June. The political honesty of the Liherales is, in my opinion, doing away so fast that I shall wonder at nothing they may do to keep the power in their hands. Their vanity has no limits, and I cannot believe that they will quietly submit to VOL. III. Q 338 APPENDIX. retire again into private life, or to hold any charge under the sway of others. What may he their plans I am not able to guess ; but I don't expect to see the next Cortes fairly assembled. The good of the country and the dangers to which the Constitution is exposed, will be, no doubt, the pretext of their usurpation, and I do not doubt but that they still believe they have no other inducement but the establishment of liberty. However, I am convinced that they are thoroughly ruining the country. Spain can- not form a Republic, and those people have no other object in view. It is now one, in fact ; but we begin to see the sad consequences of such a government. The country is in a state of anarchy : the majority of the people are very ready to give their assent to every Article of the Political Creed of the Cortes, but they will not lend their hands to any thing which they are desired to do. The natural indo- lence of the people has hitherto prevented popular commo- tions ; but the parties are now running very high, and it is difficult to foretell what rancour and animosity "will lead to. Do you know that the Anti- Anglican party has appeared with fresh vigour at Cadiz, I suspect under the protection of the new Government } I have just answered a most in- solent and scandalous libel on the English Government, which has been published in the second number of a new journal called El Espanol Libre. The title makes me think that it is meant as a counter-poison against the Espanol Esclavo en Londres ! I perfectly agree in your opinion of the Duke of In- fantado. He has more sense than all the other Grandees put together ; but his indecision has made him unpopular ; and with many excellent qualities, I fear he has not a friend. I am very glad to hear that the Dutchess has been gratified APPENDIX. 339 with what was said in the Espanol ahout her son ; and al- though I had no other merit in it but that of a mere trans- lator, it really conveyed my opinion upon the subject, and I felt pleased at the opportunity which offered of showing that T only regret that he did not know me better. I beg you will present to Lady Holland my grateful acknowledgment of her kind invitation, as well as my earnest wish of her speedy and perfect recovery. Believe me, dear Lord Holland, Most faithfully yours, J. Blanco White. Q ( 340 ) APPENDIX III. SOxME PASSAGES OF HIS DIARY IN THE YEARS 1812-19.* Nov. 12, 1812. A very excellent friend of mine complained to me yester- day about a thing that the best characters are apt to bewail — the misfortune of having been often misunderstood and misrepresented. This misfortune may be traced, in my opi- nion, to an original fault, which, from its being connected with a good disposition of the heart, is very seldom noticed by those who labour under it. I mean an over communica- tive disposition — an eager desire of an intimate intercourse with every one who appears disposed to take some interest in our opinions and feelings. A heart thus disposed is very apt to fall into dangerous illusions respecting the persons of whom it will be desirous to make bosom friends. It is no wonder if it meets with many who make an ill use of that intimate confidence. But the great danger of that fond vanity which leads to disclose whatever we conceive to con- stitute the chief merit of our moral character, is to be found in the female sex. The best of women may be utterly ruined through the influence of that disguised and treache- rous sort of vanity. Those who would blush at the idea of artfully drawing the attention of everybody upon their per- sonal charms, will suspect no impropriety in taking the first [* These extracts, too valuable to be omitted, could not be entered under their respective dates in the Sketch of his Mind in England without interrupting the Narrative. References are given to the cor- responding periods in the Second Part of the work.] APPENDIX. 341 opportunity of letting as many as they can into the secrets of their own souls, that they may admire their good quali- ties, and conceive for them what they imagine a pure and enthusiastic tenderness. Young girls should be inspired with a kind of moral bashfulness. They ought to be taught to hide from the eyes of men the secret charms of their souls, as they learn to veil those of their persons. Both should be treasured up with a mysterious and religious sort of feeling, for the happy man who is to be their lawful pos- sessor. Let a decent veil be thrown over a heavenly heart, as one is laid over a blooming bosom. The existence of the hidden charms cannot be concealed — but strangers ought scarcely to be allowed to fix a curious eye upon the outward forms. The opposite conduct in a woman is very easily and naturally misinterpreted. It is, in a moral way, allow- ing a man the liberty (if I may use the comparison) of see- ing her at her toilet. Bayswater, March 23, 1813. The Primroses. (See Vol. I. p. 198.) As I got up this morning, and was looking at the fields opposite my window, dehghted with the sight of the tender and pure verdure spread over them, and enlivened by the beams of the early sun, which had risen without a ploud, I was agreably struck with the voice of a woman, who sang along the road something that might be taken for a little air. When she came in view, I perceived that she had a basket full of flowers, and that she was going to sell them in town. My heart is still beating, sweetly beating, from 342 APPENDIX. the impression which the sight of the flowers made upon me. They were primroses, new primroses, so blooming, so fresh, and so tender, that it might be said that their per- fume was perceived by the eye. A sudden tear started in mine, and my heart v/as instantly overflowed with mixed sensations of tenderness, melancholy, and pleasure — the pleasure of longings and regret. There is, perhaps, no man more quick than I to the effect of certain associations ; those particularly which remind me of the checks which have opposed my affections without the least intermission. God knows that my soul has desired nothing but what is absolutely consistent with the first duties of virtue. I never remember to have felt the least allurement in riches, power, or splendour. Nature and its charms have been the object of my most ardent love from the earliest part of my life. My heart glows at the thought of every thing that reminds me of the endearments and cha- rities of human nature. My tears flow at this moment with an inexpressible feeling of melancholy and regret. I consider how innocently, how easily, I might be a very happy man ; and how my circumstances have debarred me from the enjoyment of every object which is dear to my heart. This thirst for love which nature has given me, while ray fate has doomed me to pass through life without one with whom to share my affections, is one of the most exquisite sorts of pain which I have known in the course of my life. Though I hope to have fulfilled my duties towards those who are connected with me, either by the ties of nature or friendship, it has been with a certain degree of pain and unhappiness. The glow of my affection in the performance of those duties has ever been checked and crossed by the thought of my wretchedness, in not being APPENDIX. 343 allowed to bestow part of my sensibility ou the objects to which they were so forcibly directed by nature — a wife and children. I have loved, but alas ! how embittered by every painful circumstance that can distress a soul like mine. I have to envy the meanest mechanic who can go out with his little family on such a delicious day as this, and pick a bunch of new primroses from the hedges, while his wife and children are enjoying the fresh air in the next lawn. Providence, however, is wiser than what our short and dim sight can allow us to perceive. It has been the hand of Providence that placed me on this barren tract, that I mav work mv wav into a better world. To that I now look up with confidence : that consoling hope has shone anew on my soul, when it appeared that its light was extinguished for ever. Blessed be the hand which has worked this won- der, by means that no man could foresee ! March 26th, 1813. The Nun. (See Vol. I. p. 124.) The day arrived when M. F. was to take the veil, and like that of a wedding, under the name and festivities of which the gloominess of this ceremony is studiously con- cealed, the house was all bustle from very early in the morn- ing. Nothing was talked of but the Bride. She was up before daylight, in order to go to Church and receive the Sacrament, for the whole morning was scarcely enough for the long operations of the toilet. The milliner and the head-dresser were already in attendance when she came back from Church with her mother. She was to be dressed 344 APPENDIX. in the most splendid possible way, her head and bosom were to be decked with diamonds ; in a word, she was to appear, according to her mother's expression, as it became the dignity of the Bridegroom. My cousin was the only person in the house who was not to be seen running up and down, and busy about nothing at all, like the rest. He had retired early to his study, and bolted the door, as he usually did. I longed to speak to him, and try to dispel the gloom which, upon his getting up that morning, I had observed more visible than ever. He seemed to be desirous of seeing me, for he ran with the greatest eagerness to open the door when I rapped it in the manner which he well knew. " I am glad you came," said he, " for 1 cannot read, nor write, nor think, and can hardly bear myself. I wish I was on the banks of the Ohio : it is worse to live in this country than in the forests of North America, even among the savages. Had I been born there, I should have had no means of cultivating my mind, and would eat my enemies, or be eaten by them, without even suspecting that either was an evil. But here, look here — (and he pointed to the book-shelves) — can there be a more exquisite, a more refined torture, than that of being sur- rounded by these books in your closet, and hearing what is going about in our house ! Horrid, indeed ! my dear friend. I cannot bear the idea of the cruel sacrifice which is going to take place to-day. My dearest sister, the only one now left me, is going to follow the steps of the other, who fell a victim to the same fanaticism — that fanaticism which is now hurrying away this deluded girl from the bosom of an old, infirm mother, from the arms of an excel- lent, goodnatured father, and the society of a brother, who is already doomed, by the laws of this more than barbarous APPENDIX. 345 society, to live without a family of his own. I had no prospect of enjoying any domestic endearments but in the company of this sister who now forsakes me for ever." — Tears filled up his eyes. " But who can save me, my dear cousin, from the horrid torture that awaits me this morning ?" exclaimed he, after a short pause, in one of those fits of despair into which his keen feelings now and then betrayed him. " Must not I appear at the altar, the minister of the execrable supersti- tion of which my sister is the victim ? Must not I perform the dreadful ceremony which is to tear her from the arms of her near relations for ever ? Must not I seal the stone of the grave into which she is hurrying, and deliver her into the hands of tyrants who, hke hell, will never let go their prey ?" Sunday, December 28th, 1817. I hope I am sincerely thankful to my heavenly Father for a circumstance which has taken place this afternoon. Dr. H. came to see me, and on looking at my books entered upon a Theological subject. I suspected him of infidelity ; but his modesty and good nature encouraged me to express myself without any fear of drawing upon me a disagreeable and useless dispute. To my great delight I found him in a most promising state of mind — just in the transition from Deism to Christianity — nay, I should say he is more on the side of Christianity than he is aware ; his heart is certainly moved, and he wishes to dispel his doubts. Some observations which I owe to my own experience, and which, by God's blessing, may be of great use in the progress of his inquiries, he seemed to be struck with. My great hope of his final Q 5 346 APPENDIX. conversion to Christ is grounded on his practice of praying every night before he goes to bed. — How grateful I feel that upon this his holy day, when I was lamenting my being deprived of the benefit of attending public worship, he has afforded me this opportunity of being instrumental in stirring up the fire which begins to be kindled in the soul of that worthy young man. — Thou knowest, O Lord Jesus, how it grieves me to think of the many instances in which I have proved a stumbling- block to my acquaintance ! Thou knowest how I am terri- fied and oppressed with the thought, that perhaps some of them have already perished, — and that their blood may be found upon my hands. Prevent, O Lord, this great cala- mity ; as thou art powerful to do it, save them, O Lord ! But add to this another great mercy towards this wretched sinner — the comfort and joy of bringing many to thy flock, and finally joining them all in thy kingdom ! December 30th, 1817. (Vol. I. p. 316.) I have written to my friend Bishop, and communicated to him my views on Trinidad. My mind, however, is at times oppressed with the idea of the work I shall have to under- take, if my oflfers are accepted. I have had recourse to prayer. I acknowledge that in my offering for a preacher of the gospel at Trinidad, my restlessness of character may have had a great share. I cannot bear this idle life. I wish to be employed. Yet I prayed, in great earnest, be- fore I took any step on the subject. It has nothing in itself to allure me, and I am sure it never offered itself to my mind in any attractive shape. I think I have engaged APPENDIX. 347 from a desire to be useful. After all, I can do nothing but humble myself before God, and throw myself on his merci- ful Providence, that he may dispose of me as it seemeth best in his eyes. December 31st, 1817. (See Vol. I. p. 339.) Two hours hence we shall have begun another year. How have I spent the one now expiring } I have suffered a good deal in it. The first half I passed in trouble and agitation at Holland House ; struggling with my aversion to the place I held; now thinking that I might go on with a certain degree of comfort ; now nearly distracted by the inde- scribable misery which the whole system, and the nature of my situation, did almost uninterruptedly produce on mv mind. At last I broke my chains on the 27th* of June. The time I spent with Bishop and J was not, I hope, lost upon me. I think my spirit was refreshed in the company of those two pious men. My intimacy with Bishop was confirmed by living together ; this I consider as a great blessing ; he is certainly one of the best Chris- tian Ministers I know : a most amiable man : a sincere friend, an excellent companion. My health, however, grew worse every day. My temper was ruffled. I grew impatient, I could not bear my wandering life, with- out a corner in the world which I could call my own My stay at Gaddesdenf did not produce any amendment either in my health, or in my harrassed feelings. Nothing can exceed the kindness of my friends Mr. and Mrs. Carle- [* Vol. I. p. 308.] [t Vol. I. p. 312.] 348 APPENDIX. ton. Yet I was anxious to come to London, that I might live in my own lodgings. Though my nervous irritability had grown to a painful degree when I was at Gaddesden, — and I have to blush for having on several occasions, shown to my good friends how peevish and childish my vanity can make me when hurt in the least ; I have some reason to hope that their excellent disposition afforded me some op- portunity of being instrumental, through Divine grace, in forwarding their religious progress. I could evidently per- ceive the grace of God at work in their hearts. May God bless and prosper them. Amen. Since my arrival in London, on the 27th of October, though I have suffered considerably from illness, my mind has, I thank God, grown more composed and tranquil. I have felt some warmth of devotion : my faith seems, at times, to be more lively than I can ever remember it before. After the last severe attack, my health seems to improve. Perhaps God will have mercy on me, and will grant me the blessing of some strength which I may employ in the ser- vice of his Gospel. I think I can, and do sincerely pray to him, that he may never grant me any temporal advantage if I am to use it against the eternal interests of my soul. May the new year bring to me an increase of grace — many opportunities to make amends for my past folhes and wickedness — great patience and perfect resignation to the will of God in whatever trials it may bring upon me ; and if it is to be the last of my life, may the day which is to put an end to it, be the beginning of an eternal and happy ex- istence in the kingdom of God, through the merits of my Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen, Amen. APPENDIX. 349 January 1st, 1818. I prayed this morning with some degree of heartfelt ear- nestness. I devoted the whole morning to pious reading, intending it as a sort of first fruits of the year which I wished to offer up to God. I was not very well; and though I had intended to be at Church in time for the Sacrament, it had commenced before the usual time, and I was disap- pointed of that great comfort. Dr. H. called this afternoon. I might have turned the conversation to some good purpose. But just as I was be- ginning to speak about Newcombe's Observations, a motto from Lucretius which he uses, engaged me in a useless conversation on that author. I hope my foolish vanity was not much concerned in this. I am very sorry to have lost a good opportunity of saying something that might be of use to mv friend. I have to accuse myself, too, of having passed a most distressed and miserable object — a poor negro in tattered rags, whom I saw thrown upon the pavement near White- hall. I passed him, and though my heart smote me I did not go back to give him something. It was owing more to awkwardness and confusion of mind than unfeelingness, for upon reflection I could hardly eat my dinner from compas- sion for that miserable object, and remorse for my want of proper and well-regulated charity. I have suffered a good deal this evening from internal agitation. I am pretty sure it arises from the state of my digestive organs. May God forgive me whatever I have done amiss, and grant me grace to continue in his service for ever ! — Lord Jesus ! in Thee have I trusted, let me never be confounded ! 350 APPENDIX. Jan. 2nd. I walked to the Horse Guards, in order to relieve the poor Negro ; but I could not find him. The Nuraber for December of the Missionary Register came this morning. I have been reading in it this evening. The work which Providence is carrying over the face of the globe is wonderful indeed ! And must I be idle all the while } Oh Lord Jesus ! I know that I am not worthy to share the glory of spreading thy Gospel. But Thy strength is always perfected in weakness. — I really blush at the idea of my useless existence, when I read of the exertions of so many Ministers of the Gospel as are spreading its blessings among the most remote and savage nations. My present duty, however, is to submit with entire re- signation to the circumstances in which Providence has placed me. " I must follow Providence ; not force it." While my health continues weak and uncertain, and while no opening is made for employment suitable to my circum- stances, ray only duty is to go on quietly and without repining. May God give me grace absolutely to resign myself into his hands ! Jan. 6, 1818. The excellent Archdeacon Potts called to tell me that he had spoken to the Bishop of London on the subject of Tri- nidad. I am to wait upon the Bishop next Friday. What can I say to him } I intend to devote the greater part, if not the whole, of Thursday to prayer and humiliation before God, that his Providence may direct my way ; for I am in APPENDIX. 351 absolute perplexity. I think I am sincere in my wishes of being useful : yet I do not think that my faith is strong enough to support me in the work which I have in contem- plation.— I shall have, however, done some good, if, through my suggestions on this subject, some more able person should be sent to promote the interests of Christianity in that, I fear, neglected island. Lord Jesus, have mercv on me ! Jan. 7, 1818. (See Vol. I. p. 335.) A Memorandum to be left with the Bishop of London, con- cerning my views on Trinidad. The Rev. J, Blanco White, a native of Seville in Spain, formerly his Catholic Majesty's Chaplain, being desirous to promote the knowledge of the Gospel according to the arti- cles and discipline of the Church of England, of which he has for some years been a member, humbly conceives that his peculiar circumstances might make him a useful minis- ter at the island Trinidad, which by the last treaty has been ceded to Great Britain. 1st. It seems that there is no provision made for the religious instruction of the English population of Trinidad. The Missionary Register mentions only two Dissenting preachers in the Island, supported, one by the Wesleyan Methodists, and the other by the London Missionary So- ciety. 2ndly. The Spanish part of the population of Trinidad must be, in all probability, involved in ignorance and super- stition. The Spanish clergy of the Island, independently of 352 APPENDIX. the errors of their Church, may be supposed to be now de- graded below the common level of their class, by the abso- lute want of all Ecclesiastical discipline in which they have been for years. 3rdly. Mr. Blanco White, in such a state of things, seems, under Divine blessing, pecuharly quahfied to promote the spiritual concerns of both classes, English and Spaniards. As a clergyman he might at once open a church or chapel of the EstabHshment for the English population. In the course of some time, and after making himself acquainted with the state of the Spanish population, Mr. B. W., either by the publication of religious tracts in Spanish, or (as there is already a Spanish translation of the Common Prayer Book) by doing service, and preaching alternately in English and in Spanish, might offer an opportunity to his Majesty's subjects who speak the Spanish language, of comparing the doctrines of our English Church with those of Rome, and freely to make their choice. 4thly. He might promote the establishment of Schools on the British System of Education. 5thly. He might open a correspondence with the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, upon the spiritual wants of the Island. Mr. Blanco White, though born a Spaniard, is, by the benefit of an Act of 13 Geo. III. c. 21, a British subject to all intents and purposes, as long as he resides within the realm : and he conceives that he would be protected in that capa- city in any part of his Majesty's dominions against Spanish persecution. APPENDIX. 353 Jan. 16, 1818. (Vol. I. p. 337.) I called at Holland House to see the little girls, and afterwards on Mr. Wilberforce. Mr. W. seemed to be glad to see me. I told him the result of my application to the Bishop of London. Lord Bathurst's answer appeared to him very strange. In the course of our conversation, I mentioned the melancholy state of all the Spanish countries in point of religion. Mr. Wilberforce said he should be glad if any one should undertake the translation into Span- ish of Foley s Evidences. I answered him that I had begun it at Oxford, and had done about half of the first volume, but that I had given it up in despair of its ever being useful to my countrymen, as I was sure the Inquisition would not allow it to be read. He observed, however, that it was extremely desirable that the translation should be ready, in order to watch the first opportunity of sending it over whenever there was an opening made. I could not but be struck with the force of this observation, and I accused my- self of an unpardonable remissness in the execution of a work, to which I may say I am more evidently called than to any other which I have either in hand or in contempla- tion. I have always felt a very strong reluctance to every thing that will obhge me to write in Spanish. It arises from pure vanity and conceit, and it is nothing but the fear of corrupting my English, by reviving the now almost lost habits of thinking in my native language. I did not, how- ever, hesitate a moment in both forming and expressing a resolution, immediately to resume the work. Consequently, on my returning home, I prepared my manuscript, and fell to work in it after dinner. I have employed two hours in it. I propose translating for an hour every day — and as 354 APPENDIX. this is a work which I undertake for a purely religious object, I shall make no scruple of devoting to it a great part of every Sunday, in which my habitual indisposition may prevent my going to church. May God purify my inten- tions, and prevent the most remote and indistinct human views from mixing with those of which I am conscious, and which I wish to make exclusively my motives. Jan. 24, 1818. My health has been very fair to-day. I wish most gratefully to thank my heavenly Father for the respite. I have, however, felt that mean, slavish feeling which seems to have been common among the heathen — a secret, indis- tinct fear that the Deity is jealous of our happiness — a dread of too much giving oneself up to the enjoyment of an incipient blessing, or acknowledging it openly, for fear of having the cup dashed from your lips. I have prayed against it. I wish gratefully to acknowledge every abate- ment or respite of my sufferings (which after all are not like the severe trials which much better people than myself endure), and to feel ready either to submit to a relapse, or to improve a recovery to the glory of my Saviour. I humbly implore his grace, to behave in that temper of mind. Jan. 30, 1818. Though not quite so well as the two preceding days, I have been in very tolerable good health. I have fi- nished my day's reading with Bishop Watson's first ser- mon against Atheism and Infidelity. It has moved me to tears ! He was a man of a very powerful understanding. APPENDIX. 355 and evidently of very sound piety, though not of that devo- tional cast which is commonly called seriousness. He was, however, serious indeed, in the true sense of that word. It is in books of that kind that I find the greatest satisfaction. My faith is strengthened by them, and my devotional feel- ings increase, I humbly hope, with the assurance and cer- tainty of my belief. Feb. 14, 1818. (Vol. T. p. 336.) In the account of mv studies, I find I have this week employed no more than fourteen hours and a half. So many little things are to be settled in my new lodgings, that my mind is quite abroad, and I even miss that patient and quiet disposition which is necessary for any serious literary pursuit. Were I to engage in the business of active life, I fear I should find it difficult to sit down quietly to any dry and laborious sort of study. Feb. 16, 1818. The supply of money which I have received from Spain has made me relapse into the habits of expense beyond my means. I have this day spent a pound in books, without which I might do perfectly well. I have sent others to be bound, which might have gone on in boards. The expense of furnishing my rooms will be greater than what I ex- pected. Thank God, I do not think that I am in imme- diate danger of running into debt ; but still I ought to exert myself more than I do in favour of the indigent. May God enlighten and support me to do my duty. 356 APPENDIX. Feb. 21st, 1818. Mr. B. called this morning. I requested him to take part of my translation of Paley, in order to correct it, as he had offered to do. This led into a conversation on the Evidences of Religion, in which he appeared to me in a very favourable light. I had taken him to be a conceited unbeliever ; and one who absolutely despised Religion as a fable not worth a moment's attention. But I had done him great injustice. He is what I should call a devout Deist. His unshaken belief in the existence of a benevolent God, his intimate persuasion that the Deity hears the prayers that are addressed to him by his creatures ; his earnest desire, accompanied by prayer, of finding a suffi- cient ground for embracing Christianity ; produced a strong effect upon my mind. I said to him, in the words of our Saviour, " thou art not far from the kingdom of God." I might have added ; " Ye believe in God, believe also in me." I trust, however, that he will do so. The hand of God appears visibly in his state of mind. His faith in God was to me a matter of deep humiliation. He spoke of the existence and Providence of God with all the marks of the deepest conviction, wondering (and certainly with great reason), what madness could drive men into the ab- surdities of Atheism. — How can I lift up my eyes to heaven ! O God, merciful Father, have mercy on me for the sake of Jesus Christ, thy Son ! Sunday, March 1st, 1818. It has pleased God to turn into a source of suffering what I anxiously longed for as a spring of consolation. I APPENDIX. 357 ventured to St. James's just at the beginning of the Sacra- ment service. My complaint was troublesome, as it will always be whenever my mind is agitated with the fear of its symptoms. I was a long time walking up and down till the sermon was over ; and the conflict between my fears of being taken ill, and my desire of receiving the Sacrament, worked me into a miserable state of nervousness. When I entered the church I was extremely agitated ; every word filled my eyes with convulsive tears, and my whole body was in constant motion. The affecting nature of the service, and ray efforts to fix my mind on what I was doing, re- duced me to such a miserable state, that when I came home I was almost distracted. My ideas have been confused the whole evening, and I feel quite exhausted at this moment. July 30, 1818. (Vol. 1. p. 343—7.) Religion seems to me to stand in the system of Provi- dence as the greatest of all trials. My mind is agitated with doubts on every side. I cannot relish the Scriptures. Yet, I thank God, I feel not the most remote desire of setting my understanding above them, or casting away my faith in Christ. — God forbid. I am perfectly blind — but I know that the Sun of Righteousness is shining in full blaze before me. I shall see it and rejoice in its light, as soon as it shall please God to open my eyes. The occasion of opening this book has been this. I met the Rev. Mr. Mitchel, who told me he intended to call upon me, and engaged to meet me at my lodgings in the course of the afternoon. I prayed to God that this inter- 358 APPENDIX. view might be for the good of my soul, as was that which I had with him at Brighton. — A few hints and expressions of Mr. Mitchel affected my heart in such a way as to induce me to fall upon ray knees, as soon as he left the room. I have humbly implored the assistance of God's grace, that I may not be cast away. May the divine spirit dispel the clouds that darken my soul ! Aug. 10, 1818. 1 thank God my prayers were not rejected. I have been much more easy in my mind. I hope my love to God is sincere. Though my doubts on several points are not dis- pelled, I feel a very strong assurance that through the grace of God, no argument, no doubt, can separate me from the love of Christ. Monday, Jan. 11, 1819. (See Vol. I. p. 364—7.) Blessed be God who has given such goodness to men ! My friend C. has melted my heart. He told me he had just finished Taylor on Atonement with great pleasure : that he had misunderstood me. We entered freely upon the subject ; but without the least spirit of contention, and in the way that Christian inquiry should be carried on. He at last took my hand and kissed it, as if he had been unfair to me in the course of this unfortunate misunderstanding, and he wished in that way to express his sorrow for any pain he had given me. Thanks be to God, who has not allowed me to indulge a single harsh thought against my excellent friend. I should at this moment feel miserable if APPENDIX. 359 I had been guilty of such injustice towards him. I have, nevertheless, a considerable weight upon my mind, from the doubt whether I have used some degree of dissimula- tion on the Unitarian question.* But I expressly told him my persuasion that no abstract point disputed among sincere Christians can be an indispensable condition for salvation ; and gave hirn to understand that I proceeded in my scrip- tural inquiries with a view to dispel doubts which deprived me in a great degree of the comforts arising from faith in God through Jesus Christ, He seemed perfectly to under- stand my motives and my views. I thank God that he has dispelled the cloud interposed for a while between my friend's esteem and myself; and humbly beg that he will always make me worthy of being the friend of such a man. To the Rev. W. Bishop. [Written on Jan. 14, 1819, but not sent.] My dear Bishop, The doubt how to perform the duty which I am going now to fulfil has for some time given me great uneasiness. Your last letter, however, will not allow me any more to put off the dreaded moment. For if I should be doomed to lose any part of your esteem, by laying at once the state of my mind before you, I should, by the omission of this act of sincerity, be really unworthy of that esteem to the preservation of which I feel so painfully alive. * Though I perceive myself to be a decided anti-Trinitarian accord- ing to the Athanasian doctrines, yet I cannot say that I have embraced either Arianism or Unitarianism. I am inclined to think that subject is such as that I shall never be able to form a settled opinion upon. 360 APPENDIX. The inclosed papers contain extracts from my private Journal, no part of which has ever been read by any of my friends. It is but just that he, who is inferior to none in my affection, and who is the only one sufficiently qualified to be acquainted with all the workings of my mind, without any probable danger to his spiritual peace and joy in be- lieving, should be privileged in this point among my bosom friends. I must add to the contents of those papers, that I am neither an Athanasian, nor an Arian, nor a Unitarian. After a careful examination of this Theological question, I find that the authority of the Scriptures (for I have confined myself to ascertaining the fact of which of these systems is therein contained) cannot be so fully brought to bear either for or against any of the opinions which divide the Church, as to persuade me that I should no more listen to those whose tenets I may now and then feel inclined absolutely to reject. The peculiar circumstances of my agitated life may to a certain degree account for the struggles which have pro- duced the result I now commit to your candour. But they are, with me, a very strong reason not to carry my love of sincerity beyond what may be necessary to avoid positive dissimulation. You know, my dear friend, that before I had any reason to refuse a second subscription to the Articles, I was determined never to accept preferment. As to communion with the Church in which it pleased God to call me to the hopes of salvation through his Son, I not only think that I may continue in it without hypocrisy, but am convinced that unless the most clear reasons should compel me to a separation, it is my duty not to expose mv Faith in Christ to the obloquy which any external charjge APPENDIX. 361 would produce. Besides, I do not at present know a Church which I should prefer to that of which I have sub- scribed myself a member. My love for the pure vein of Christian piety which runs through the Prayer Book is not diminished by my strong doubts on other points. The Christian dispensation has, from the beginning, been carried on in the midst of controversy and doubt. Why should I, who am so conscious of the danger of error, refuse my as- sistance in the propagation of a form of Christianity which stands so high in the Universal Church for learning, and for true and genuine piety ? It is not without considerable fatigue that I have thus far been able to lay before you the present state of my mind. I must only add (with a view if possible to diminish the pain and concern which this disclosure may give you) that in the hard struggle which I have lately gone through, prayer and a sense of my own weakness have constantly at- tended my studies. My health continues without any great improvement ; but of this in my next. Whatever may be the change which this letter may pro- duce as to your opinion on my judgment, I trust it must confirm you in the assurance of the affectionate and sincere friendship of. Yours ever, J. B. W. January 16. My fears of disturbing my dear friend on points of such importance to him as those which I attack in the extracts I intended to send with my letter, decided me against the VOL. III. R 362 APPENDIX. determination I had taken of laying before him the present state of my mind. In that act of openness and sincerity towards my dear friend, the leading motive was a desire to show myself incapable of dissimulation. But is it not a higher duty to preserve my friend's peace of mind, even at the expense of appearing to him in a less favourable light, if my present silence should ever assume the appearance of dissimulation } My friend B. is a man of strong and sound judgment ; a thinking man of the greatest candour. It is very true that his attachment to the Church is cemented by the most settled associations ; still, his mind might dwell too much upon arguments which I conceive to be very strong. He might be harrassed with doubts ; his benevo- lent life might be deprived of the pleasures he now enjoys in his ministerial occupations ; and who knows but that I might at last bring upon him a most dreadful struggle be- tween his most solemn engagements and his high sense of duty ? I tremble at the mere possibility of such an event, and thank God that the doubt about the propriety of what I was going to do occurred to my mind in time to prevent the danger. Now it so happened, that this morning Mr. B called to see me, and the conversation taking a religious turn, I felt a great desire to show him my Facts and Inferences,"^ knowing that he is prevented from embracing Christianity from the unconquerable aversion produced on his mind by Theological Systems, in which he has always seen it enve- loped. The effect my observations had upon his mind was astonishing. I did not hesitate to offer him a copy of the [* An argument to prove that Christian salvation does not require a belief in Articles : fundamentally the same as his Treatise on Heresy and Orthodoxy, published sixteen years aftervpards.] APPENDIX. 363 little Catechetical Examination. I enjoined him secrecy as to the author, from the fear of obloquy which my peculiar circumstances could bring upon Religion. But as I am sure, from my own experience, and the knowledge I have of unbelievers, that some might be brought to Christ by removing difficulties I am strongly persuaded do not belong to Christianity, I really cannot conceive that there can be any danger in allowing that Paper to go into the hands of those who are likely to read it with any degree of interest. Those whose religious feelings are intimately blended with any of the prevailing scholastic systems, will look upon the Paper with abhorrence. It is only such as are inclined to Christianity, and who have no idea of its being independent of those tenets which make their understanding revolt, that will be disposed to listen to ray observations. And what harm can there be in making, say, a Unitarian from a Deist } Is there nothing gained in embracing the Gospel, in acknowledging Christ as Lord and Master ."^ Suppose I should be in error ; suppose a Deist should by any means embrace Christianity upon the lowest possible admission of its doctrines ; — would that approach to Christ put him in worse condition, or give him a less chance of finding out the doctrines of the Trinity, Atonement, &c. than he had before ? Certainly not. Let us therefore divest ourselves of that narrow spirit which will rather see a man continue a heathen, than turn Christian of a different denomination from our own. March 2, 1819. I have ventured to write to my friend Bishop upon the painful subject of ray change of opinion. — I thought that, R 2 364 APPENDIX. by requesting him to give up the idea of trying to obtain for me an honorary degree, I should remove my most pressing motive for acquainting him with the present state of my mind. I alleged my w^ant of health : that such an honour would be little availing to me, as I neither wished to act as a Clergyman, nor found it possible to establish myself at Oxford, where I might have enjoyed the gratifi- cation of belonging to the University. But my friend's kindness baffled my well-meant artifice. He answered that he would not desist, and that if he failed in his object he would feel the satisfaction of having done what he thought justice to me. — In these circumstances I could not remain silent. Even if subscription to the Articles should not be a requisite for an honorary degree, which I think it is not, could I allow my friend to proceed in his endeavours under a misconception ? And though his candour may prevent any diminution of his esteem towards me, would that be the case among all those whose votes he must have asked in my favour ? — I have, therefore, fulfilled a painful duty. I have disclosed to him the fact that I have changed my opinions concerning the Trinity. As I greatly feared to disturb his peace in believing, I did not enter into any parti- culars. But that I might sooth the pain which I was sure the information would give him, I added — what, I hope, is true — that I had proceeded in my enquiries in Christian humility and sincerity. 1819— March 3. Ninth anniversary of my arrival in England. O Lord God, ray Creator and Heavenly Father, whose Providence has mercifully watched over me, and by the APPENDIX. 365 most unexpected means delivered me from the degrading tyranny under whose influence I grew up, leading me to this privileged country, where Thou didst open my eyes to the hght of Thy Revelation, I thank Thee, O Father, for this inestimable blessing. I thank Thee for having pro- vided for my subsistence, and given me friends who are concerned for my welfare, and who fill up the place of my dear relations. Grant, O Lord, that I may prove finally faithful to Thee, and that so merciful a display of Thy goodness may not be lost upon me. Defend me, O Lord, from sin. Increase my faith in Thee, through my blessed Redeemer. May I be instrumental in the diffusion of true Christianity ; and may I live in such an absolute subjection to Thy will, that men . may see the power of Thy grace in my behaviour, and glorify Thee, by following the precepts of Thy Son, my Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen. ( 366 ) APPENDIX IV. SUNDAY LETTERS. To the Rev. John H. Thorn. I. July 10, 1836. My dear Friend, As I am about to give you the Memoirs of John Wool- man, that, before you take them to Woodcroft Cottage, with my thanks, as you kindly offered to do, you may at the least look the book over, I shall state briefly the result of the attention which I have given to that work. Autobiographies are instructive, almost without excep- tion, provided that the reader knows how to study mankind, for, even when the account is written under the influence of vanity or some other passion, it will afford opportunities of studying the workings of the heart and mind in a state of transient or settled moral disease. But when such a man as John Woolman undertakes an account of himself, we may be sure that the very bottom of his heart will be open before our eyes, exactly as it was before his own. It is true that both the writer and the reader must see the workings of the individual human soul described, through a medium containing sources of visual distortion and obscuration ; for the narrator must have seen himself and all his actions through that more or less coloured glass which every man's prejudices interpose between every thing and his intellectual vision ; but, as the prejudices and passions of the reader can scarcely ever be identical with those of the writer, there APPENDIX. 367 is the greatest probability that the delusions of the latter will generally be apparent to the former, merely from the circumstance that he is placed in a different position. — But I must hasten to my subject — the impression I have received from the book in question. You are aware thct I consider the Quakers, in the early days of their society, and, indeed, till the influence of the other religious denominations around them disturbed the clear view of the principle adopted by George Fox, as supe- rior to all the other Reformers in their knowledge of the true nature of the Gospel. The Quakers alone understood the whole meaning of Jesus's declaration that " the true worshippers should worship the Father in Spirit and in Truth :" they alone perceived that Christianity was not intended by Jesus to be dependent on any external authority whatever ; but that he left his disciples to the guidance of the Spirit of Truth. Even in the perception of Jesus's meaning, as consigned to that figurative expression, the Quakers appear to me infinitely superior to the generality of Divines ; for the latter have almost unanimously sup- posed that Jesus alluded to an invisible person, whom they call the Holy Ghost ; but the primitive Quakers, in spite of the mass of theological prejudices which externally surrounded them, avoided, as by a rational instinct, the metaphysics of the Schools, and looked for the Spirit of which Jesus spoke, within themselves. Here, however, they were misled by that love of the miraculous which will be the last mental infirmity that true Christianity will conquer. The sincere Quakers conceived that they were the privileged subjects of a direct, personal, and miraculous revelation ; and by admit- ting this supposition as a matter of incontrovertible con- sciousness, they opened themselves to all the extravagances 368 APPENDIX. of enthusiasm. Yet, as what they often mistook for a supernatural voice within them was that true derivation of God's light, that ray of the eternal Reason which dwells in every man, — and as they cultivated that holiest of faculties by the means pointed out by Jesus himself, namely, purity of heart and that charity which divests man of selfishness, their enthusiasm was generally subdued in the very first growth. Add to this the powerful efi'ect of awakened pru- dence in a society whose members were bound to submit to the sense of the majority, — a sense usually originating in the intimate knowledge of each other. Indeed, this predo- minant influence of the practical Reason, which I consider as a necessary result of the natural temper which would lead certain individuals to join the primitive Quakers, and must have been transmitted through successive generations as a result of moral discipline and example, is, as it appears to me, the origin of the invidious, popular description of them, which is conveyed in the expression