SPECIE HUH BUG, • OR THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF FERRET SNAPP N£WCRAFT,E3Q. Being a full exposition and exemplification of “the credit system. 1 * Published in the National Laborer, from the United States Magazine and Democratic Review. I designedly omit the place of my birth, that which my father wrought on the credulity of being a matter of some doubt to myself, inas- these egregious blockheads, that sense of jus- much as from my earliest recollection I led a tice which I used to believe innate in the na- sort of miscellaneous life, seldom remaining ture of man, would rise against such mischiev- long in the same place, and moving about as ous deceptions; and I remember I once ventur- occasion made necessary or convenient. My ed to express myself rather ingenuously on the family, though poor, was of great antiquity, subject. His reply at once opened my mind and withal respectable, since I have often to that new and sublime theory which has heard my father say, not one of his ancestors ever since been the governing principle of my had ever, to his knowledge, degraded himself life. by following any regular occupation. The on- “My son,” said he, “what do you suppose ly tainted limb of the family tree was our constitutes the superiority of man over all oth- grandfather, who was ignominiously bound ap- er animals V 1 prentice to a cobbler ; but thank Heaven, he I mustered up my scholarship, and repli- ranaway before he took a degree, and became ed—- distinguished as all our race have been by”liv- “His reason, sir,” ing by their wits”~an expressive phrase which “Good you are right. It follows, then, that distinguishes the happy few from the misera- reason being his great characteristic, it was ble many, who are justly condemned to live by the design of Providence, that he should live the sweat of the brow, seeing they cannot live by his reason—in other words, by his wits— by the sweat of the brain. The consequence and that, therefore, it is his bounden duty t© is, that the latter have a foolish prejudice against make the most of them. Do you understand?” the former, arising, no doubt, from an innate “I think I do, sir. But he should not make sense of inferiority. use of his wits to deceive others. Justice—” My early education was like my mode of “Justice ? Where did you get these queer life, rather miscellaneous. In fact setting aside notions, boy ?” a little smattering of reading, writing, and cy- “From nature, I believe, sir.” phering, that I obtained, at various times, it “Nature is a son of a-—tinker !—and the consisted principally in the example and pre- sooner we turn it out of doors the better. This cepts of my father. As we rambled about from is the object of all education. The impulses town to town—for my father seldom remained of nature are the mere errors of ignorance and long in one place, on account, he said, of the inexperience,and whatpnilosophers caUa know- envy and ill will he excited by the superiority ledge of the world—which, by the way, is of his wits—he would stop and call my atten- worth all other knowledge—consists solely in tion to a fall of water,a little murmuring river, sharpening our wits, and preparing us to take . a particular point of land, or some other matter advantage of the dullness of others. Scrupu- and tell me what a capital speculation he could lous blockheads call this deception, but you make out of it if he only had the money. In one may depend upon it, it is nothing but a justifia- place he would ere^t a great manufactory; in ble use of our wits. Nay,it is not only justifiable, another, make the river navigable; in a third, but obligatory; for not to make use of the fa- found a city; and in a fourth, cut a canal that culties bestowed on us by nature, or acquired would enrich the whole country. So far as I by experience, would be flying in the face of could judge, at that time, his sole dependence our Maker, It would be a most criminal nc- was on these castles in the air, which he rea- gligence. Do you remember the parable of the lized, except in the way of now and then per- talents ?” suading some poor dolt of a workingman, who “ I think I have some sort of recollection of .1 had saved a little money, to embark it in some it.” one of his speculations, which I confess almost “Well, what is the moral of it? Is it not that always failed, for want, as my father said, of a the great duty of man is to turn a penny, and proper credit system founded on paper-money, make money as fast as he can ?” But though they failed,my father always man- “But, sir, I think he ought to make it honest- aged to take care of hi mself v which he affirmed ly.” was the first duty of man, and to save enough “ Pooh—you're a blockhead. There is not from the wreck to serve him till he could hatch one word about honesty in the whole parable,** some other speculation. This, and various similar conversations, t®. When I grew gjd enough to think a little for gether with the daily example of my father, myself, and observed the ingenious devices by and his perpetual turmoil about speculations, A 2 gave a radical turn to my mind, and fixed my destiny for life. I saw very clearly that man¬ kind were condemned to labour, not for their own benefit, but that of others; and that inas¬ much as the wits of a man were the noblest part of him, it was but just they should live at the expense of those democratic physical pow- eis, which were undoubtedly intended for that special purpose. One of the great resources of my father, who was a decided enemy to hard work, was the invention of labour-saving machines. I re¬ member to have heard him boast that he had, during his life, taken out patents for a hundred and thirty-seven contrivances of this sort, ma¬ ny of which he sold out to the country farmers and village mechanics, for he had a most slip¬ pery tongue, and a keen wit, which he often assured me were specially given to enable him to earn an honest livelihood. I have long ago forgot the greater portion of these labor-saving machines; but I remember there was one for scalding pigs without heating the water, and another for churning butter by an ingenious application of the well-pole, while the good wo¬ men were lowering and hoisting the bucket. We lived comfortably three months on these inventions, at the end of which time the ignor¬ ant country people began to be so jealous of the superiority of my father’s wit3, that they threatened to tnr and feather him, and sub¬ ject me to the new patent scalding machine. In short, the country was becoming rather warm for us, and my father determined to seek not only a wider sphere of action, but of impunity, in the principal city of that section of country which had hitherto been the scene of the triumphs of bis wits. 14 Ferret, my son,” said he, one day, just af¬ ter a great ignorant country booby, who had paid his last five dollars for the use of the pa¬ tent scalding contrivance, had called him vari¬ ous unseemly names, and threatened to prose¬ cute him for swindling—“Ferret, my son, there is no longer any living among these hard-work- ing Cyclops, who have no respect for the tri¬ umphs of superior intellect, and prefer brute force to mother wit. Besides, these ‘big-paw- edjfellows’—my father was the inventor of this phrase—have such a stupid respect for indus¬ try, that they are apt to despise their betters, who live by their wits,according to the instinct of reason, and the decrees of Providence. I am going to the great city of Ragamuffinville, where there is elbow-room for the exercise of one’s wits, and I can turn dollars where I now only turn pennies.” Accordingly we departed for the great city o seek our fortunes in a more enlarged sphere of action As we proceeded along, my father whiled away the time by pointing out a varie¬ ty of excellent speculations. I had but a con¬ fused notion of the precise meaning of this word; and to thia day I confess the distinction between making a great speculation and ‘tak¬ ing in’ a fellow creature, is not precisely clear to my mind. How far a man may use his su¬ perior wit or experience in getting the better of ignorance and simplicity, is a question, as my father used to say, which every one must decide for himself. “There, now,” said he, as we passed the house of an honest farmer—“There is a fellow who might double the value of his farm,, and live like a fighting cock, if he would only drain that great swamp, blow up that ledge of rocks, sprinkle a few hundred bushels of plas^ ter over it, lay it down in grass, and stock it with the short horn breed.” I replied in the simplicity of my heart— “I suppose sir, he his not the means of doing this.” “Ah! Ferret, there’s the thing. The whole world is, as it were, standing still for want of means. There is not half enough money in the world to supply the new developementsof specu¬ lation; and the possibility of supplying this want so to keep pace with the spirit of the age—do you understand me, boy?—is what employs my mind day and night. The difficulty of getting mo¬ ney has always appeared to me a great defect in the schemes of Providence, and were that onfy got over, man would be all but omnipotent 1 believe this to be possible, and have a sort of dim conception working its way in my brain, which if I can only bring it to maturity will produce the greatest rev obit ion that has happened in the world since the deluge, and relieve mankind from that cruel denunciation that he should earn his bread by the sweat of his brow, which always gives me an ague whenever 1 hear it from the pulpit." I requested my father to explain his project, but he only replied,patting his forehead—“It is hore r boy, here, but can’t explain it yet, at least to-youp mind. One of these days I may let you into the secret—at present we have other fish to fry-' r This conversation set my thoughts in motion. I pondered almost without intermission on tho sub¬ ject, which gradually opened upon me as I ad¬ vanced, step by step, until I conceived the sub¬ lime idea, which, as will appear in the sequel, I afterwards carried into effect, and with such con¬ sequences as have astonished and confounded the world. Just as my father concluded his last remark,we came in sight of a little tailor’s shop, i» a village by the road side, through the open window of which, we could see the owner stitching away with great animation, and jerking his elbow in a most spasmodic style. Observing that he had some business with the tailor, who, as it soon ap¬ peared, w as a simple good-natured soul, of great faith and little experience, my father told me to follow him, say nothing, ami be sure not to laugh. Several suits of clothes were hanging out of doors as a lure for customers. My lather saluted the master of the shop, who stopped his elbow for an instant, raised his eyes, gave him a nod, and then w ent on at a great rate, as if he wished to make up for lost time. My fa¬ ther then inquired if he had any ready made clothes to suit himself and son^at which the lit¬ tle man picked his ears, stuck his needle into hi* work, and jumped from his shop-board with the elasticity of a bull-frog. d -"Suits? Fit ? my dear sir, I have clothes to fit any body, from a giant to a dwarf.” He began to.pull down his paraphernalia with his usual celerity; and to make short of a long story we were soon fitted. I wondered how they were to be paid for, as I happened to know my father had at all times considerably more wit than ■money. But 1 was soon enlightened on the sub- AJ ject. “Friend Dibdill,” said he, “your clothes fit bet¬ ter than if they had been made for us; what would they have done had you actually taken measure ?’* can see my brother, the Squire, or take an order on him for the money. What say you ? decide quick—for if you wont do either, 1 must e’en take up with the bungling work of your neighbour yonder, who almost forced his trumpery upon my back.” The tailor considered a moment, moving his elbows backwards and forwards, from the mere force of habit, as if he was stitching, and then, modestly, and rather hesitatingly, as if fearful of giving offence, decided in favor of the order on Squire Pumpelly. This was accordingly given, and we departed in triumph, in a quick step. The The little man showed hts teeth at the compli- tailor slipped upon his shop board, and the last l ment, but made no answer, except repeating the word 44 friend,” three or four times with great ra¬ pidity, in a tone of interrogation, to which my fa¬ ther responded— “Aye. friend Dibdill, but I believe you don’t recollect me, though we have met several times at the Rev. Mr. Snortgrace’s meeting. Don’t you remember what a refreshing time we had about seven years ago at the great sermon about earthquakes ?” “ Bless me!” cried the tailor—“To be sure I do, but I don’t remember to have seen you there/’ saw of him he was stitching it away with infinite glee. I am not ashamed to confess—for I am grown wiser now—that I felt a sort of vague perception that this operation of my father was not altogeth¬ er justifiable. Indeed, I ventured to hint as much, but his answer silenced my scruple* for ever. “Ferret,” said he, “I ougift to have bound you apprentice to the simpleton of a tailor, for I fear I shall never make a gentleman of you. The world will say I have cheated the fellow, for it is always taken things by the wrong handle, and you seem to think so too. I maintain on the con- Sure—you don’t say so ? Why I was one of trary, that I have paid him double and treble the those who lifted you up, brother Dibdill, when value of these clothes in the lesson I have given, you were struck down, and carried you into the The experience he will acquire before many days air where you waked up, singing Hallelujah, are over, will answer him two most valuable pur- Don't you remember ? poses; it will guard him from future losses of the The tailor reflected awhile. kind, and if he makes a proper use of it, enable “Why, yes. now I think of it, I think I do. I’m him to practice the same game on others. The fact much obliged to you, brother. What a shaking is, boy, in the scale of strict justice, he owes me there was among the dry bones that day,” rub- for half a dozen suits,instead of my being indebted bing his hands. “But may I crave your name V* to the stupid hard-working blockhead. How “Pumpelly,” answered my father, looking sig- I hate to see a rascal’s elbow moving at such a nificantly at me. rate.” “Oh! ves—may be a relation of Squire Pum- “Had’nt we better go back, father, and dun him pelly, the rich old codger that lives across the riv- for the balance he owes you ?” asked I. er. I’ve heard he’sas rich as King Solomon. Any “Hum—not just now, my son, I’m in too great relation ?” a hurry to get to Ragamuffinville.” “His brother.” replied my father, witii an air of Accordingly we mended our pace, and in due conscious dignity. time arrived safe at the great city qf Ragamuffin- “Well, if ever ! who’d have thought it V* cried ville, where my father took lodgings in one of the the other, looking rather significantly at my fath- most expensive and fashionable establishments of er’s costume, which was somewhat weather-bea- the place, observing to me, “that persons who ten. lived by the superiority of their wits, should al- “Yes, his youngest brother. I’m on my way ways go to such places in preference to obscure there now, after an absence of several years, in taverns. The very Fact of stopping at a splendid which I have been rather roughly handled, as you hotel, was a sort of letter of credit among those see. But my brother has written to me to come two-legged animals, who were created as objects and live with him.” Here my father began rum- for men of wit to practice upon, maging his pockets. “Plague take it! what can The day after our arrival, my father gave me have gpne with the letter ? O, now I remember three dollars, telling me, at the same time, that I left it in my trunk at the Ferry House down f or the present I must expect nothing more Irom yonder. But to business, friend Dibdill. I did’nt him but good advice and good exemple. like to appear before my brother, the Squire, in n a . such a poor pickle as this, and so 1 thought I’d . y ou se / tka ‘ * ,ttl ? red fla £ 0Tcr rig myself and my boy out a little, that we might the door yonder ? That is a place where great not digrace him. I went first to the shop down bargains can sometimes be made. Go and try yonder by the ferry, but the fellow’s clothes, I your wits against the auctioneer, and if you believe, were made with a marlinspike, after come off triumphantly, I predict your fortune measuring with a broomstick.” U ma de. You will be a match for the greatest rhe tailor rubbed hi. hands and chuckled at ghaTer the land » h^ivai magnanimity not to run down j ol>eyed hig command s, and came back a ■•Now' to come to the point, my good friend,” “ ,amc duck >” * s father called me - T h * continued my father. “I have net quite enough tsian of the hammer had made a specultiona cash, at present, to pay for these things, and so out of me, that is, he had taken me in. The I will give yeu the choice, either to wait till I mode in which he circumvented me was worth 103031 5 4 ten times the money, and was, in fact, the foundation of the vast property I afterwards possessed, and which, if I could only have paid for, would have made a little German Prince of me. But I lost all, as will appear in the se¬ quel, by some unlucky democratic experiments, which I revenged myself upon, by calling them “Specie Humbug,” “Infamous Schemes ” &,c. The maiaceuvres of the auctioneer are too pre¬ cious to be detailed to the public. I keep them lor the special use of myself and confidential friends. My father scolded, and laughed at me at the same time. “Ferret,” said he, “I did not in¬ tend to give you another cent as long as I liv¬ ed. But the first error of inexperience is ex- curable. Here is two dollors more—go and try your fortune again ; but recollect, if you suffer yourself to be bamboozled this time, you are no longer a son of mine. Take care how you disgrace yourself by another bad bar¬ gain.” I took the money, and proceeded somewhat disconsolate and mortified along the street, run¬ ning over the process by which I had been taken in by the little auctioneer. All at once, the lecture of my father on the advantage the tailor had derived from the experiment on his credulity, occured to me, and 1 determined to turn the sharp edge of my newly acquired ex¬ perience against others, the first opportunity. This soon presented itself, and by a process which I shall keep to myself for the reasons just specified, I succeeded, not only in retriev¬ ing my former loss, but making a snug penny besides. My father received me in triumph, and such was his awakened confidence in the superiority of my wits, that from that hour he predicted my future eminence. This incident was, indeed, the first step in the ladder. By good luck an eminent broker happened to hear the particulars of my last exploit. He was struck with the masterly genius it display¬ ed; and being a most liberal patron of merit, at once offered to take me into his employment. Accordingly, I descended into his cellar, where, for a time, I was told to look sharp, listen to every thing, and say nothing. Here was a no¬ ble school to awaken the powers of my mind, and the exercise of my wits. The head of the house, or rather the cellar, was one of the most profound men of his time, as a proof of which it is only necessary to state, that he began bu¬ siness with no capital but his wits, lived like a prince for several years, without ever being worth a dollar, and finally failed for some mil¬ lions. Here was a sublime genius for you. “Here”—to use the words of my father—“Here is the great Archimedes who can move a world by putting his lever upon nothing.” This great man watched me narrowly for some months after my first entering into his employ, preparatory to trusting me in his af¬ fairs. There was an old woman who had a table where she sold apples, cakes and othef small wares, which frequently excited my long* ing, and she carried on the business just at the window of our cellar, I was tempted to trade with her whenever I had money. On these occasions, my master watched me closely, and the result of his investigations was exhibited in an increasing confidence. By degrees, he opened to me the mysteries of the shaving bu¬ siness,and displayed to my mind all the wonders of an invisible world, appealing to the imagina¬ tion instead of the senses. The glorious mysteries of kiting, race-hors¬ ing, and other occult matters connected with the sublime science of raising the wind ; the manner in which the credit system is built up and sustained, without anything but itself to stand upon; the masterly process by which any amount of ideal money may be conjured out of nothing, like the spirit from the cloud, and made to represent ten times the amount of the same sum if it were real; these and some other of the “great principles,” which constitute the sublime of the new credit system, he could not present to me, for as yet they had no existence, except in the heated chaos of my mind, which, from the period in which I received this first practical insight into the great money, or rath¬ er credit, kingdom, continued to boil and bub¬ ble with the fever heat of grand conceptions fighting their way from a faint embryo to a glo¬ rious maturity. But the lessons of my master were of the highest use to me, notwithstanding. Like streaks of sky, at early dawn, they prepared the way for the god of light and lustre, and, at the same time, taught me to take advantage of the mid-day splendor, which soon after opened upon me. The city of Ragamuffinville, just about this time, suddenly awakened to a perception of its future greatness, and it come to pass that every body began to live on anticipation. They look¬ ed forward about a hundred years, and saw at the end of the long vista, a vision of grandeur and prosperity that set them all mad. They forgot that a hundred years was a long while and that he who incurred a debt, in the expec¬ tation of receiving a great profit at the end of that time, was very likely to die before he could realize his anticipations. Suddenly, there was a great and increasing demand for money, for all the world had be¬ come borrowers, to invest in lots, in order to take advantage of the great rise in value a hundred years hence. The precious metals not being of a ductile nature, and incapable of expanding fast enough to suit these great exi¬ gencies, it became indispensable that some sub¬ stitute should be found, more suitable to the spirit of the age, and the newly discovered wants of the community. My master every day lamented to me the contracted sphere of operations to which his 5 genius was confined, by what he called the “infamous Specie Humbug,” meaning the stu¬ pid attachment mankind had inherited from the dark ages, to what they called a standard of value. “If I could only make money out of nothing,” would he exclaim in a paroxysm of enthusiasm, “I would, in a short time, possess the world !” i brooded on this idea from morning till night,and sometimes lay awake for hours, think¬ ing on the glorious hope of its successful ac¬ complishment. I often asked myself what was the basis of the value of every thing in the world and at length came to the conclusion that it was the general estimation of mankind. I then proceeded to investigate the possibility of sub¬ stituting an imaginary, for a real, value, and appealingto human credulity as its basis. Man¬ kind, thought I, worship false gods, adopt false opinions, and arrive at false conclusions. Many believe the moon is made of green cheese ; is it not possible to make them believe that what is worth nothing intrinsically, is just as good as u thing of inestimable value, provided it will exchange for just as much ? What, proceeded I, was the intrinsic value of a fathom of Wam¬ pum, and yet, in old times, you could purchase a farm with it from the Indians, I forgot at that time that this Wampum was the product, of labor, and therefore represented the value of all the labor bestowed upon it. While my mind was struggling to emerge from the twilight of these conceptions, into the meridian day, my master began, by degrees, toemploy me in transactions which became,eve¬ ry day, more important and consequential. In the course of them, I daily acquired new ideas and new r experience. I learned the art ofevad- ing the law* against usury, without subjecting myself to, the penalty of their violation; I mastered all the mysteries of the business in which I was engaged; and in good time became such an adept, that I could practically define to a hair, the precise line which separated a lucky speculation from an act of downright swindling. I could tell to the utmost nicety, how far it was lawful to play on credulity and ignorance, and the extent to which deception might be carried without constituting a fraud. In short, I could see my way clear in the dark¬ est transaction, and split a hair with my eyes shut. I was gradually, though not actually a part¬ ner, admitted sometimes to a share in the pro¬ fits when I had made a good hit, and soon found myself in possession of a snug little sum. With this, having the approbation of my master, I commenced business on my own account, and considered iny fortune as good as made, when by his influence, I was admitted a member of the Board of Brokers, which, under the present severe laws against every other species of play, enjoys a monopoly of gambling In truth, it was carried on upon a great scale. A2 Not a day passed that some one of us, who, per* haps, was not wortli one-fiftieth part of the money, did not play stakes for thousands, and buy or sell what neither possessed, or vvliat, in fact, had no existence. But every thing was done in the most gentlemanly manner, and all the members were strictly governed by the point of honor, which consisted in taking every possible advantage of each other. The entire process was a war between buyer and seller. One' member would, for example, offer a thousand shares of some fancy stock; that is, a stock which had no definite value, and another accept the offer, although the form¬ er had not a single share, and the latter not a single dollar to pay for one. The stock was to be delivered at a certain specified time, and here commenced a great struggle on the part of the buyer and seller, one to depress, the other to raise the price of the stock, by rumors calculated to affect it one way or the other. It was on one occasion of this kind that I made my first great speculation. Happening to overhear a bargain of this kind, for a vast number of shares in a certain contemplated rail road, a lucky thought came into my mind. Without losing a moment, I went and purchased, on time, every share of this gtock in tire market, and of consequence, the person who had contracted to deliver the amount of shares, which was very large, was under the absolute necessity of applying to me when the period of delivery arrived. You may depend, I made him pay handsomely, knowing that he would ever after lose the chance of did dling others, if he forfeited his honor on this occasion, by being expelled the Board. By this operation he lost, and I gained, a little fortune, and what wa3 of no less consequence, a great accession of reputation, on account of my su¬ perior sagacity and forsight. The affair recommended me to a certain bank, which soon after installed me in the of¬ fice of its chief broker, that is, furnished me with money to shave all the good notes which the directors refused to discount at legal inter¬ est. In this situation it was that I invented the famous mode of dodging the law against usury, by charging all premiums above the le¬ gal interest as a commission for my services. Being now in a prosperous and honorable situation, I began to sigh for the enjoyment of domestic felicity, as I could now afford myself that expensive luxury. I accordingly sought a partner, and being guided by prudence, a* well as inclination, married a lady of a certain age, who had great family interest. Her fath¬ er was president of a bank, and three of her un¬ cles hank directors. This at once initiated me into mysteries of the “Credit System,” as it existed at that time. I at once saw its defects, and my mind again reverted, with increasing force and vigour, to the question of a currency founded exclusive- 6 ly on public credulity. It is true, the banks, as they then existed, possessed great advanta¬ ges in furnishing a currency, two-thirds or three-fourths of which was not represented by real value. Still, this was not the beau ideal of my imagination. I reflected, and believed in the possibility of perfecting the Credit Sys¬ tem, so that it should consist solely of credit, without being adulterated by a single particle of real value. The period was now come for realizing this long cherished vision of my imagination. I wa?rich in credit and paper-money ; the great city ofRagamuffinville was turning wild with visions of what was going to happen a hun¬ dred years hence ; and there was such a de¬ mand for money, as all the gold and silver mines of the universe could not supply. I had also bank influence; and now set about acquir- ing political distinction as indispensable to my purposes. I turned a furious democrat, that party being then uppermost; attended every ward meeting, and made speeches in favour of Equal Rights; until, by degrees, 1 rose to be a member of the general committee for nominat¬ ing members of Assembly. When this measure came up, there were so many candidates, and so great a diversity of opinions, that we settled the matter by nominating ourselves, and were triumphantly elected. It was now that 1 grasped the reality of what 1 had so long anticipated. Before proceeding to the seat of government, 1 had projected a scheme for a bank, founded on the great prin¬ ciple of making money out of nothing; a self- constituted,self-existent,perpetual-motion bank- machine, entirely independent of any represen¬ tative of real value, and which, like a spider, would spin its web for catching flies out of its ewn bowels. On opening my scheme to sev¬ eral of my confidential friends, who had sub¬ mitted to the disgrace of being called demo*, crats for a time, in order that they might make use of their support in the attainment of their objects, they were delighted with it,—most es¬ pecially when they found that my bank requir¬ ed not a dollar for its specie basis. They ea¬ gerly joined me in a memorial to the Legisla¬ ture, stating that there was a great necessity for an increase of capital in the great city of Ragamuffinville, and a great surplus capital having no profitable means of investment; and that the applicants being great friends to the Equal Rights of the sovereign people, had come forward, actuated solely by the public good, to request a charter, conferring on them certain privileges, which though the people were pro¬ hibited from exercising, were exclusively for their benefit. This charter, 1 employed a friend of mine, a lawyer unequalled in drafting laws for the purpose of being evaded, to draw up in such a manner as that it would require no capital to pay up the stock, and authorize the corpora¬ tion to do directly the contrary of what the Legislature intended. With this, I proceeded, in anticipated triumph, to the fountain of legis¬ lation. On my arrival, 1 found that almost every member of that honorable body had some scheme or other on the anvil for the public good, and in the benefits of which he expected to participate, only, as one of the people. 1 made it my first object to become acquainted with the individual interests of every member, and set about reconciling them all, if possible. This however, was a task beyond my power to ac¬ complish,and it then occurred to me that though 1 could not reconcile, 1 might unite them all, and thus produce perfect harmony. This plan was accordingly adopted, and produced the most beneficial consequences. Each member proceeded on the great and only just principle of reciprocity, that is, each one promised to support every one of these schemes, provided all the others would support his, and thus, the whole batch was carried triumphantly through our honorable body with only three dissenting voices, consisting of three members who had been guilty of the unpardonable negligence of coming thither without a single project for the public good. This was the origin oi' that great modern improvement in legislation, called log¬ rolling, of which 1 flatter myself 1 am the sole inventor. My bank went through with the rest, and with it commenced the new and most.glorious era of that great Credit System, of which it has been truly said, that its destruction would be immediately followed by universal ignorance and barbarism. My lawyer had incorporated into our charter a phrase of my own invention, and which, m my opinion,—and 1 hope 1 am not misled by vanity,—-embodies the greatest improvement ever maddfin the system- of bank ing, 1 allude to the provision that the capital of our bank should be either paid in, “on secur¬ ed TO BE PAID.” Under this convenient and salutary provision, on the breaking up of the session we returned to Ragamuffinville, and immediately commenc¬ ed operations. We began with engraving and filling up notes to the amount of twice our no¬ minal capital, with which we paid the first in¬ stalment on our subscriptions for stock, the whole of which,with the exception of a few hun¬ dred shares—assigned to some members of the Legislature as a compliment for voting accord¬ ing to their conscicncos-was distributed among ourselves. For the remaining instalments, as they became due, we first issued the stock, then gave our notes of hand for the amount, and then pledged the stock as collateral securi¬ ty. Here then was the credit system brought to that perfection which I had long imagined pos¬ sible, and now saw realized. It was the ideal representation of a pyramid reversed j nothing at the bottom, and a vast expansion of surface 7 at the top. It was credit founded on credit, paper on paper, and promise on promise. It might, consequently, be extended to an infinite series, or at least so long as human credulity, that great beast of burden, could be brought to stagger under the blessing. We had some difficulty in finding a cashier to make oath that our capital was thus “paid in , or secured to be paid'” but, at length, were lucky enough to catch a man exactly suited to our purposes ; one just emerged from the er¬ rors of the dark ages, and who recognised the distinction between the letter and spirit of an oath. He saw clearly that “secured to be paid,” was an indefinite phrase, and, consequently, meant just what a man pleased to make it. He, therefore, swore most manfully, and our bank proceeded to business, by, in the first place, lending twenty-five per cent, more than tile whole of its capital to the directors, the cash¬ ier, and the president, to wit, myself,who claim¬ ed, and received, one-third of the whole, as my lawful share. Having thus achieved the grand desidera¬ tum of making money out of nothing, my next step was to turn the discovery to the greatest advantage by changing what was worth no¬ thing for something of real value. The truth is, 1 could never entirely discard from my mind certain unpleasant intruding doubts of the sta¬ bility of my system, and therefore resolved to make hay while the sun shone. Accordingly, J conceived another grand scheme for the em¬ ployment of the surplus funds of our institu¬ tion. 1 proposed to a certain number of t he members of the Legislature, to which 1 now no longer appertain, a plan for a great public improvement, that is, a rail road of a few hun¬ dred miles length. The thing was kept perfectly snug, while, by means of the funds furnished by our Bank, which was capable of expanding like an emp¬ ty bladder, we proceeded quietly to purchase all the land in the immediate vicinity of the line of the contemplated improvement, which was intended however solely for the public good. We then once more commenced the system of log-rolling, to which 1 added another lever of my own invention, to wit, the agency of lobby members, and the law passed by a great majority : although sturdily opposed by an ignorant, old Dutch member, who insisted that the public good had come to signify noth¬ ing but private interest. Our project went on swimmingly, and such was the rise of property along the contemplat¬ ed improvement, that it was sold, and resold, on credit, so many times that it was afterwards ascertained it had become the representative of more paper promises of one kind or other, than the whole district of country through which it passed, would sell for, after, the great improvement was made. Such was one of the first triumphs of my new Credit System, the gre^t advantage of which is, that it enables peo¬ ple to run in debt indefinitely, and property to represent fifty times as much paper as it is worth. As a sort of interlude to this, I became a purchaser of vast tracts of public land in the West, which I paid for in the notes of our bank, on which J. expected to realize immense profits, and which, even thougli it fell in price, would still be worth more than our paper pro¬ mises, the chief recommendation of which was, that the moment they parsed from my hands, as a private person, in payment of a debt, the debt was paid, though they might become ever so worthless afterwards. This is another great advantage of my newly invented Credit Sys¬ tem, if not to those who receive, at least to those that pay. In this case, as I purchased of Uncle Sam, my conscience was quite easy, for in case the worst came to the worst, the old fellow could afFo d to lose the money. I was now rolling in wealth ; the idol of the brokers ; the oracle of financiers ; th'* control¬ ler of the stock market; the envy of all that miserable race, which lives on real property and labour; and the founder of* cities, for I had laid out six of these on my new lands, or rather on the maps of my lands,some of which threa¬ tened to outgrow even the great emporium of Ragumuffinville. Nay, I don’t know but I may in time become the founder of a great empire on the North Pacific, where I onqc es¬ tablished an Agency for buying muskrat and mink skins. But alas ! there is nothing perfect in this world, and my new Credit System, though as near perfection as possible, was unluckily a little out at one of its elbows. It contained a vile principle, by which it is said, by pretend¬ ed philosophers, every thing in the natural and moral world is regulated. I mean the mischie- vous and abominable piinciple of reaction, the greatest enemy to the Credit System which has ever presented itself. Under the operation of this, it is pretended that the affairs of this world resemble the action of a pendulum, which the farther it is driven one way the farther it will recede on the other, thus ever returning to opposite extremes. Whether there be such a law of nature, or necessity, or not, certain it that I now be¬ gan to experience the existence of some cause or other by which the equilibrium of rny new Credit System was sadly disturbed. At first I ascribed it to the great number of banks which had grov/n out of the system, with capitals “paid in , or secured to be paid ” in a similar manner to ours; and the operation of the old saying that “too much pudding will choke a dog.” This however was so contrary to rny first principle, namely, that it was utterly im¬ possible to have too much of a good thing, and of course an excess of credit and paper-money, that 1 discarded it with contemptuous indigna- 8 tion. At length 1 hit the nail on the head. 1 discovered the origin of all the dangers which now began to threaten my system in two great sources, namely, the “Specie Circular and the Specie Humbug.” These two humbugs pla¬ gued me J exceedingly. The former interfered with the founding ot my cities in the West,by striking at the root of my Credit System, which contemplated the entire extension of every tiling but promises to pay instead of payments; and the hitter was a serious obstacle to my plan of causing the people to give up their ab¬ surd prejudices in favour of silver and gold,by keeping the latter outofsiglit until they should actually forget such things ever existed. J al¬ ways considered specie as the great plly of ignor¬ ance and barbarism, and was convinced in my own mind that an extensive paper circulation representing nothing, and which nobody was obliged to redeem, was the sole agent of refine¬ ment and civilization. And here 1 must do myself the justice to state that the idea winch a “Great Financier” of the present day has since carried into practice, of issuing the notes of defunct institutions, upon the above princi¬ ple, was suggested by me in a confidential con¬ versation. Be this as it may, these two mischievous humbugs caused a sudden revulsion in the flood-tide of my affairs. The dunderheaded peo¬ ple, 1 mean th£ big-pawed Farmers, and the hard-handed Mechanics and Labourers, began once more to recall to mind those demoralizing substitutes for paper-money, silver and gold, which are well denominated in the Scriptures the root of all «vil, Certain mischievous fel¬ lows, out of revenge for being disappointed in getting discounts at my bank, began to write essays in some of the newspapers whose editors were in a similar predicament, full of the most disorganizing principles. They maintained the enormous heresy of Equal Rights; denoun¬ ced Monopolies; denied that a promise was the actual substance of the thing promised, and cancelled the obligation; and dared to insinu¬ ate that a superstructure that had no founda¬ tion would be very likely to fall to the ground, the first stoim it encountered. Nay, they had the hardihood to assert that of nothing, nothing could come, and thus struck at the very heart of my system. In vain did I marshal my for¬ ces, consisting of editors of newspapers whom 1 had conciliated by my generosity, and who repaid me with gratitude ; politicians whom 1 had linked body and soul with the existence of my system, and who lived and breathed in that alone ; and legislators who had grown out of it like toad stools from rotten wood. In vain did 1 set on foot the cry of Loco Foco, Fanny Wright, Robert Dale and Jack Cade ; equally vain that 1 called on the people who owed moie than they could pay; the people who sighed to make promises they could not fulfil, and all those who desired to live by their wits instead of their labour, to come forth and defend their possessions, their morals and their religion. All would not do. The stubborn ignorance of the mass of mankind, which prevents them from knowing when they are well off, or properly distinguishing betwixt happiness and misery, resisted the efforts of reason and virtue, and it became evident that the crisis of my great Cre¬ dit System was at hand. It behooved us, therefore, to make ready for the shock; and according we preceeded to pre¬ pare ourselves for a run upon our Bank. We had only specie enough in our vaults to pay the postage of our letters, and onr capital con¬ sisted entirely of the followed items : Firstly.—The notes of hand which represent¬ ed the stock of the bank. Secondly.—The stock of the bank which re¬ presented the notes of hand. Thirdly.—The debts due to the bank, to wit, the notes of the president, directors.and editors and politicians, we had thought it prudent to make friends of, in order to resist the stupid, ignorant hostility of the 4 big-paws’ and others. 1 had almost forgot to mention that somewhat rising one-third more than the whole amount cf the nominal capital of our bank, was loaned to myself and the Directors, of which 1 had by far the largest share, as was but just, see¬ ing 1 had not only invented the great improve¬ ment in the Credit System, but likewise the means of carrying it into execution by log-roll¬ ing. This brief exposition will serve better than any other mode, to exemplify the principles of my system. The reader will readily perceive that our Bank had actually no other capital than public confidence, or as the infidel Loco Focos, and Fanny Wright men, who believe in nothing but Specie Humbugs, call it, public credulity. This was the perfection of my sys¬ tem. It is easy enough to found a Banking System on a specie basis, but to raise it upon credit alone, 1 consider the triumph of fiancier- ing. Our first act, in order to meet the unreason¬ able demands of the senseless people who held our notes, a great amount of which we had is¬ sued in anticipation to strengthen us against the coming storm, was to discharge a great duty to ourselves. Charity begins at home, i3 one of the fundamental maxims of my Credit System. So we unanimously decided to liqui¬ date our own obligations by cancelling all our respective notes, given as security for the ca¬ pital stock. Our next act was, to cancel the certificates of stock pledged by ourselves as collateral security for the stock; and our third to throw both notes and certificates into the fire. Thus at once was cancelled all our re- sponsibilities in the most satisfactory manner. The baftk which, according to my great Cicdit System, originated in nothing, returned to its original element of nothing, and all parties 9 'were perfectly content, except those eternal and disorganizing grumblers, the Loco Focos and Jack Cade men whom nothing will satis¬ fy, who came with their hands full of our notes to demand payment, and began to talk of tar¬ ring and feathering. But the Mayor had pro¬ videntially ordered out the military to overawe these unreasonable villains, and so my gentle¬ men went home with each a flea in his ear. 1 dare say some of them suffered considerably by the loss of a pitiful sum, unworthy the no¬ tice of the great inventor of the Credit System, but 1 have since quieted my conscience by sub¬ scribing liberally to soup-houses,and thus fairly quit scores with these wretched, irreligious, de¬ moralized beings. This equitable adjustment of our affairs plac¬ ed me on the very pinnacle of prosperity. 1 had paid all my debts to the people, and might now have sat down in the enjoyment of a quiet conscience amid unbounded wealth, but the truth is, 1 longed for a single hundred thousand dollars more, to make up two milUons, and un¬ fortunately an opportunity seemed to present itself just in the nick of time. 1 had a particular^friend,—one with whom 1 had done business for years past, and regularly got to windward of two or three times a year ; but with all this the fellow crept along prosper¬ ously by some inconceivable means beyond my comprehension. There ara such men in the world, and of all beings in the creation they most puzzle me to account for their prosperity. They themselves pretend to explain it by quot¬ ing that sale maxim about honesty being the best policy; but for my part 1 never saw ho¬ nesty achieve such wonders, and accordingly it does not constitute one of the elements of my Credit System. It is at war with the spirit of the age and the progress of improve¬ ment. Be this as it may, when in consequence of the “suspension” of cur Bank, I had got rid of all my responsibilities in the most satisfactory manner, and felt myself perfectly independent of panic and pressure, my worthy friend came to me one day with a proposition to sdll a tract of new land, comprising three millions of acres and several large towns in perspective. This tract 1 had originally sold him at a pretty con¬ siderable profit, and now thought it would be a capital operation to purchase back again under the depression of the panic which 1 was con¬ vinced would blow over again and be followed by a corresponding reaction of prices. My worthy friend was excessively alarmed and consequently very desirous to sell his land, and realize the proceeds, as soon as possible. I took advantage of his opprehensions, and fin¬ ally purchased back my land at somewhat less than half of what 1 received for it, paying him cash in hand. The poor creature went away highly delighted, and what is not common on such occasions, both parties were perfectly sat¬ isfied. He rejoiced in selling,and 1 in purchas¬ ing, what I was assured would enrich me a few hundred thousands in the end. This would undoubtedly have been the case, if it had not been for the obstinate ignorance and stupidity of our outlandish Government, which about this time began a series of diaboli¬ cal experiments which played the very mis¬ chief with my Credit System, and gradually undermined its only support, namely, the pub¬ lic credulity. It undertook to refuse my bank notes in payment of the public lands, which, operated against my system like a two-edged sword, right and left. It injured its credit and depressed the price of lands, by demanding pay¬ ment in specie instead of what all people of good breeding call its “representative.” It embarrassed me terribly, and was the commencement of the downfall of one of the greatest estates ever acquired by a single man in the United States. People when they found themselves obliged to give real value instead of its respectable representative for lands, be¬ gan to calculate the cost, etc., which they never did before, when they paid in promises which neither themselves nor any body else ever ex¬ pected to redeem. Land began to descend ra¬ pidly, and like a wagon running down hill, the nearer it got to the bottom the faster it went. Not content with aiming this blow at the na¬ tional prosperity, this outlandish Government not long afterwards proposed the “Infamous Scheme” of a divorce of Bank and State, which completed my downfall. “Infamous Scheme,” indeed, for what could be more infamous than withdrawing the Gov- vernment from a partnership in which it furn¬ ished a great portion of the capital, and all the credit, while the other parties received all the profits? It was in fact a base conspiracy against my system, and accordingly all the really honest patriots raised a hue and cry the moment it made its appearance. I was one of the first that moved in the business by calling a meeting of every man who owed more than he could pay, in the city of Ragamuffinville— and they were not a few in number—which denounced the Specie Circular, the Infamous Scheme, and the outlandish Administration, which had, by its stupid folly, arrested the ca¬ reer of my Credit System, and ruined the coun¬ try by prematurely experimenting on the ca¬ pacity of mankind, to continue the practice of running in debt through an infinite series, as 1 am convinced can be done, if no mischievous attempts are'made to appeal to their common sense and experience. But 1 have neither temper nor patience to detail all the mischievous follies and stupid ex periments of our outlandish Government, and, besides, the details of my decline are by no means so agreeable to my recollection as those of my tise. Suffice it to say, that the great land speculation 1 made out of my simple friend 10 it 1 thought him at the time, was the primary eause of my catastrophe. The blunders of this outlandish Government had arrested the glori¬ ous career of speculation, which like a top the moment it ceases to whirl round, falls to the ground. 1 had risen with speculation, and 1 fell with speculation. 1 had lived for years in the anticipation of a rise in the value of every thing on the face of the earth, except paper- money, and as soon as prices declined 1 became to all intents and purposes u a lame duck/’ It is unnecessary to enter into details, as my object is not to record my descent, but my as¬ cension. Suffice it to say, that the vile perse¬ cutions and egregious blunders of our outland¬ ish Administration at length brought me to a “suspension,” that being the genteel phrase for what used to be called bankruptcy. And hce 1 will pause a moment to observe on the truth of the Conservative theory, that my Credit Sys¬ tem is the parent of all that is pure and refined in human society. In nothing is this more strikingly exemplified than the refinements it has brought about in our language. In the “iron money and black broth” days of specie circulation, when a man could not or would not pay his debts he was called a bankrupt ,—now he has only suspended; taking in another in a bargain, was called swindling, now it is specu¬ lation ; running in debt without paying, or having any prospect of doing it, is now enter¬ prise; crime is imprudent, and murder, a great misfortune. But if any doubt remains of the beautiful perfection of my system, it will be found in the following fact which 1 record as the consum¬ mation of its triumphs. 1 had for more than fifteen years lived in the greatest luxury and splendor; 1 had spent in that time upwards of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars; 1 had held property to the amount of between two and three millions, and yet when 1 came to in¬ vestigate my affairs critically,I found that at no period of my prosperity had 1 ever been worth a dollar in the world ! 1 n short, 1 had been over head and ears in debt every moment of that time. Can any one after this doubt for a single moment the perfection of my Credit System ? Can any man that loves his country or his species, refrain from joining with me in de¬ nouncing the Specie Circular, the Specie Hum¬ bug, the Infamous Scheme, and the tissue of blundering ignorance exhibited by our outland¬ ish Administration ? But for these 1 might have gone on accumulating “ responsibilities” and spending money like dirt, to the end of my life, and what if my debts had increased all that time ? It would only have been a few hundred thousand dollars more issues of paper money, by some body or other, and tlw vacuum would have been supplied. This is the great beauty of my system. It works by an infinite series, as it were, and there is only one trifling thing wanting, namely, that there should be all debtors, and no creditors, i»» the would. I don’t despair of bringing this about, when, as will certainly be the case a couple or three years hence, our ignorant outlandish Adminis¬ tration is replaced by my disciples of the Credit System. Then shall we see the age of Inter¬ nal Improvements, unexampled exquisite re¬ finement, and unlimited public prosperity, for then will every body owe and nobody pay; then will the wealth ot the nation, like that of England, be demonstrated by the amount of its debt; then will the true Agrarian principle be in practical operation, for a man who borrows a hundred thousand dollars will be as rich as the one that lends it; and then there will be no occasion for a bottom to the sea, for the whole world will be adrift on its surface. Such are the anticipations with which 1 so¬ lace the lazy hours of my temporary retirement from the business of the world. My other auxiliary comfort is in recalling the busy scenes of my former career, and either suggest- ing great speculations to others, or imagining the muse for myself. In this way 1 endeavour to get rid of the desperate ennui of a life free from the perplexity and distraction of being of out of debt. 1 have compounded with my cre¬ ditors at a pistareen in the pound,and the leaden depression consequent on being freed from the excitement of getting up every morning, with¬ out knowing whether 1 should not be “ sus¬ pended” before night; and going to bed every night with the anticipation of being a lame duck the next morning, is now the principal evil of which J complain. It is inconceivable what interest such vicissitudes communicated to life, and were it not that 1 look forward to the speedy downfall of our ignorant outlandish Administration, and the resuscitation of my Credit System in more than its past glory, 1 really believe i should be obliged to turn phil¬ anthropist, to pass away the time. P. S. I forgot to mention that on my retire¬ ment from the presidency of my bank, the Di¬ rectors unanimously voted me a service of plate, worth twenty thousand dollars; and that my father, to whose lessons 1 am indebted for every blessing 1 have enjoyed or anticipated, has lately been appointed by the Federal Com¬ mon Council of Ragamuffinville, Chairman of the Finance Committee,on account of his great talent at “raising the wind” which is now the principal employment of our States and Corpor¬ ations. fROM THE NATIONAL LABORER, bank representatives. Of late years there is a desire manifested by the wealthy few to change their relation to the great body of the people, by withdrawing their wealth from property which is tangible, and the value of which is easily known and ascertained, and investing the same in a species of property or securities or whatever else it may be denomi¬ nated, called stocks, with the value of which the great mass*is wholly unacquainted; whereby they obtain great and unbounded advantages over the people, and control over the public in¬ stitutions of the country—all of which they have been enabled to accomplish by means of the various charters of incorporation granted to asso¬ ciated bodies of wealthy citizens, by Congress and the Legislatures of the several States, with¬ out any sufficient safeguards to protect the many against the avarice, cupidity, folly or frauds of this favored few. This fearful tendency towards the entire prostration of popular rights, is well calculated to create a belief and the apprehen¬ sion throughout our country, that those advan¬ tages so conferred on the favored few, have not been fairly and properly obtained from their Re¬ presentatives; and the means whereby such charters are obtained, or sustained, and continued in existence, demand the strictest scrutiny, not only on the part of the great body of our citizens, but also from such portion of our Representatives as prefer duty to ease ; and are willing to en¬ counter the abuse and defamation of monopolists and their corrupt supporters, rather than forfeit lhe confidence of the just, the patriotic, the dis¬ interested. and the betrayed public. Why has chartered monopolies been so multi¬ plied of late without securing the public against abuse from such extraordinary privileges ? If an hundred men in their separate and individual characters, as citizens, have not one dollar of surplus cash to lend, can an act authorizing them to issue paper money add one dollar to the cash circulation of the coqntry ? And will not any paper they may issue for such purpose corrupt the circulation and produce a public injury? Suppose on the other hand, that the hundred persons are each wealthy, with cash capital, are they not then doing well enough in the world to let them take their chance with the great mass of citizens who are without surplus cash ? Should their powers and advantages be greatly enhanced by uniting them together as a corporate body, unless intended for public as well as for private good, and should not every such act secure the public, against the abuse of extraordinary powers granted to this body of associated wealth ? Has this been done? have our public men become careless in relation to the rights of the many T Have they become willing to sacrifice the inter¬ ests of the great body for the favor of the wealthy few ? Are they connected with the incorporated wrealth of the land, in the character of STOCK¬ HOLDERS. DIRECTORS, AGENTS, or FEED COUNCIL, whilst assuming to perform the most solemn duty of Representatives of the people? It has been alleged that many of them sustain at present this inconsistent and incompatible re¬ lation. It has been alleged that for the twenty years which the late Bank of the United States was in existence, every member in Congressfrom Philadelphia (except two) was connected in in¬ terest with that institution, as DIRECTOR, STOCKHOLDER, COUNCIL, or AGENT. And that frequently he who was looked upon by the public as a Representative of the people, had probably been only induced to offer them his services, with a view to look after the interest of the Bank. How far other districts may have been subject to the same abuse, either in Congress or in the Legislatures of the States, we are not informed f but we think it high time that this alleged con¬ nection between the peoples’ Representatives and the Banks and other incorporations of asso¬ ciated wealth should be examined into and fully understood. Let the public assemblies be purged from even a suspicion of this poison at the foun¬ tain of all of our systems, and put the public mind at rest upon the subject. Let all Stockholders, Directors , Agents and Council for the Banks and other incorporations of associated wealth, whether in Congress or the State Legislatures, make their connection with such incorporations known, and let the Legisla¬ tive bodies respectively, by rule, debar such in¬ terested members from voting on any question affecting the interest of such corporations. This would shew the people who were their Representatives, and who were the Representa¬ tives of INCORPORATED WEALTH. 44 Laws are only the terms by which men have agreed to live together in society.” Infractions should be punished according to the nature of the crime, by the sentence of impartial Judges, and the verdicts of disinterested and impartial s jtifufa. In a case of life and death, who ever heanl or read of an interested judge or juror be¬ ing allowed to sit and determine the cause ? Who it prepared to tolerate such gross enormity? Who could look on and see a trial of life and death conducted by a judge or jury who had received lar^e sums to save the life of the criminal ? Or who could bear or tolerate a system which would permit his feed council, who had received a large sum to save his life, to act as judge or as «juror on the trial ? If a community of freemen could not tolerate such enormity, how do they look patiently on and hear the “ feed council,” the director , the stock¬ holder, or agent of a bank #r other incorporation, argue, debate, contend and vote in a legislative body, on the trial and arraignment of such cor¬ poration, where the issue is life or death to such artificial person ? Can any person, connected in interest with such, whether as judge, juror, or representative, be fit to sit or vote on the trial ? Can a lawyer, with a fee of only an hundred dollars, be incompetent by Teason thereof, to sit on the trial of his client; and a bank council who has received his thousands, and expects his tens of thousands, hereafter be allowed to tif sod' vote on the trial of his client ? We are unable to comprehend the difference in. principle, in the cases; and we understand that in England, where privilege and chartered monopoly has been carried to the highest pitch, no member of parliament would dare vote or act in his representative capacity, in any case where his personal interest was to be affected by such vote, or where he had been connected with the case as council. Surely, we have need of as much purity in the legislative bodies of our republican institutions. We, in Philadelphia, the seat of the old mam¬ moth, have a deep interest in this question. We, who ha\ & been slain with the jaw bone of an ass, wielded by a little bank representative, who frets hi# hour on the congressional stage. This inquiry should be made, and at once; and as congress, the real focus of Bank politicians, is now in session, it should be commenced there. All that is required is an open expression of public sentiment in a tangible shape, and we feel con¬ fident that there are independent Senators and Representatives, at Washington, who will probe this sore of the body politic to the bottom. AN EXPOSURE OF THE ERRORS AND EVILS OF THE PRESENT ARRANGEMENT OF SOCIETY; WITH A PARTIAL DEVEL¬ OPMENT OF A NEW ARRANGEMENT. ’"Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit, Sermon on the Mount. In proportion as a nation advances in knowl¬ edge, m the same proportion it ought to advance in happiness. Knowledge is only useful so far as it tends to this end ; and that knowledge which has not this tendency, is no knowledge at all, but mere trash and nonsense. Man has been boasting for ages about his no¬ ble endowments, his vast intelligence, his won¬ drous inventions and discoveries, while all the time he has been sinking deeper and deeper in wretchedness and vice. What use are his noble endowments,if they tend not to increase his happi¬ ness? What use are his vast intelligence, and his wondrous inventions and discoveries, if they tend not to lessen the amount of his misery? With all his endowments he is the most wretched ani¬ mal in existence. What other animal undergoes half the amount of suffering that he does? Toil¬ ing incessantly day after day, and year after year, and with all his toil can scarcely obtain the ne¬ cessaries of life. At other times, when denied the privilege of toiling, he wanders about the country in beggary and in want, enduring all the sufferings that hunger and utter destitution must occasion. And while this is the case, he talks and boasts of his wisdom and intelligence I Just as if beggary and starvation were an evi¬ dence of them. If wise and intelligent, why not happy? If superior to other animals, why endure more misery than other animals ? If possessed of nobler endowments, why so vicious and wicked ? But the real fact is, man has been in a sort of dream from the period of his existence up to the present time. He has been labouring under the grossest delusions. When a mere infant, or when about one remove from a state of monkeyism, he conceived certain notions, and these have guided him in all his crazy wanderings from that day to this. These notions were gross errors, as might be expected, and the consequence has been that the world now abounds with want and beggary, fraud and deception, robbery and murder, and every other species of crime and iniquity, that a perversion of human nature is capable of. How was man in those days to understand human na¬ ture ? How was he to draw conclusions on mat¬ ters of which he was as ignorant as any animal in creation ? How was he to form arrangements of the best kind to promote our happiness ? Yet his monkey notions have been handed down to us as genuine and infallible truths. His stupid arrangements have been maintained age after age, not because they promoted our happiness, but (wisdom like) because they were “ancient and venerable!” Look even at the House of Commons in the pesent day. There we see men, whose business it is to promote the happiness and welfare of the people, acting in a manner the most ignorant and irrational. When a measure is brought forward, their first consideration is, not how much happiness or misery it will pro- is hewn down, and cast into the fire.”—Christ’s duce, but how will it harmonize with existing ar¬ rangements ? Will it interfere with any of our venerable iinstitutions? Is it in accordance with the wisdom of our ancestors ? Is there any pre¬ cedent for it? And in this way they decide as to its adoption or rejection. Now can anything be more ridiculous ? Can anything be more ab¬ surd and irrational ? If the measure will promote our happiness, what do we care about existing arrangements? What need we care ? If it will lessen the amount of vice, and crime, and misery amongst us, what do we care whether it inter¬ feres with “ our venerable institutions” or not ? Yet these men are called the “collective wisdom of the nation!” And I suppose this is a sample of it. Such wisdom may be worthy the parties who are blessed with it, but very different is the wisdom of rational beings. If we are to be guid¬ ed and governed by the “ wisdom” of our ances¬ tors, why call us progressive beings ? And if we are progressive beings, why fasten us down to their ignorant and irrational arrangements, and especially when we see such vice and mise¬ ry springing out of them ? The only object of our existence is happiness, and if existing arrangements confer not happiness why then, put an end to them and make better arrangements. This is what reason and ration¬ ality would suggest. The more “venerable” (as they call it) any thing is, the more reason there is for its alteration. Man is progressive; he ac quires fresh knowledge daily ; and the arrange¬ ments made to day may be greatly improved to¬ morrow ; and when this is the case, how ridicu¬ lous it is to hear men talking about maintaining our “venerable institutions;” “our glorious con¬ stitution in church and state ;”and all such blurt¬ ing nonsense ; but what is most singular is, that the wisest men in the nation, or at any rate those who ought to be the wisest, are the very men who are continually using these ignorant expressions. All things ought to be estimated by the good or the evil they produce, and if we see an institu¬ tion producing evil, reason and rationality would order its removal. Paine says that “governments are for the ac¬ commodation of the living, and not the dead and so it is with all institutions and all arrange¬ ments whatever. The living alone are concern¬ ed and not the dead. What then have our an¬ cestors to do with our wants and wishes ? Why consult them as to what sort of institutions we shall have ? Their institutions might suit them¬ selves perhaps, but is that any reason why they ought to suit us ? Let us, then, rise from our slumbering delu¬ sions, and devote ourselves to the grand and only object of our existence ; that of making ourselves happy. Let us discover the causes of human suffering and all human ills; let us trace them to their source, and whatever institutions may 4 occasion them, however “ancient and venerable,” let us remove them in all possible haste, and sup¬ plant them with better. Let us value institutions, not by their age, but by the amount of good or evil they produce. If we find them producing good, let us support them ; but if we find them producing evil, let us remove them. Let us do these things, and then will the human race show their intelligence and wisdom. Then will they remove themselves from a state of vice, poverty, and wretchedness, to a state of virtue and happi¬ ness. Then, indeed, we may boast of our intel¬ ligence and wisdom, our inventions and discove¬ ries. Then we shall have something worthy of exultation. But to be boasting of these while thousands of people are starving,—while thou¬ sands are driven to theft, robbery, and murder, is a species of brutal insanity that man alone is ca¬ pable of. With this beginning, I shall now proceed to the object of this publication. I shall first prove that the present arrangement of society is a bad one; that it is based upon error of the grossest kind, and that, as a natural consequence, it pro¬ duces all the misery, and vice, and crime, and all the other evils, that everywhere abound. I shall then explain the principles on which alone the happiness of man can be founded. I shall de¬ scribe a few of the arrangements that are neces¬ sary to this end, and show their vast superiority over any of the arrangements which now exist. To prove then that the present arrangement of society is a bad one, we have only to look at its fruits. Jesus Christ says, “If a tree bring not forth good fruit, hew it down, and cast it into the fire and applying this principle to the present arrangement of society, let us examine its fruits. If we find that it bringeth not forth good fruit, why, according to Christ himself, we are to put an end to it; we are to hew it down and cast it into the fire. Now I would ask any man whether the present arrangement of society bringeth forth good fruit; or wht ther it does not, on the contra¬ ry, bring forth the very worst fruit that any state of society could possibly produce ? It luckily happens, that this is a case that admits of no dis-' pute, for it rests not on argument alone. It needs no reasoning to decide it. These fruits are be¬ fore the eyes of every man ; every man can see them, and what is worse in another sense, every man can feel them. These fruits are, in the first place, anger, hatred, and all kinds of uncharita¬ bleness. In the second place, beggary and star¬ vation ; groups of people wandering about the streets and roads, clad in miserable rags, without homes and without food, and hundreds die week¬ ly through hunger and utter destitution. Our houses are scarcely ever freed from some object of want and wretchedness. Thousands of people are driven to the commission of all manner of crimes. Theft and robbery, and murder, and prostitution, and suicides, everywhere abound ; our gaols are crammed with these unfortunate victims. It has even become dangerous to be out in the dark ; robberies are committed in the open streets; no man is safe; although policemen and watchmen are stationed in all quarters. People are reckless of their fate; enduring all the suffer¬ ings of hunger and want, while they see an abun¬ dance around them, they are excited to the com¬ mission of any crime; and they care not the con¬ sequences of it. If they are sent to gaol, it is more a relief than a punishment, and if they escape, they are obliged to continue their dreadful pur¬ suits. In short, none of us are happy; those who have wealth are afraid of losing it; they are tor¬ mented with all kinds of fears and anxieties; and those who have none are either starving, or in a state approaching to it. Now, these are the fruits of the present sys¬ tem ; they are plain and visible before the eyes of all men ; and will any man say they are good fruits? Can any man say it ? No, it is impossi¬ ble. Well, then, what is to be done? Why, “if a tree bring not forth good fruit, hew it down, and cast it into the fire.*’ This is the command of Christ himself. Can anything be plainer? What, then, can out opponents say ? Will they for a moment talk about consistency ? Is it con¬ sistency to believe in the doctrines of Jesus Christ, and, at the same time, act in opposition to them ? Is this Christianity? Yet the whole of those who call themselves Christians do this. Here is a system producing all the evils that any man can imagine, and, instead of putting an end to it according to the direction of Christ himself, they are actually supporting it; they are maintaining the very thing they ought to destroy. And what is the most unaccountable, while we are attempt¬ ing to destroy it, by establishing a better, and thus obeying the commandment of Jesus Christ, our opponents have the modesty to call us Infi¬ dels and themselves Christians. So that, besides this abominable absurdity, here they are outrag¬ ing the very dictionary; they are reversing the meaning of words. According to them, those who practise Christ’s doctrines are Infidels, and those who do not are Christians. But such are their wise and rational proceedings. Now, considering for a moment the fruits of this system, the unlimited number of evils that flow from it in all directions, and the severity of these evils, what are we to think of the men who say that such a system is a good one, and that it needs no alteration ? Can such men care a farth¬ ing about morality or virtue ? Can they care a farthing about common humanity ? Above all, can they care a farthing about religion ? Yet (and who could believe it ?) the ministers of the gospel, the promoters of morality and religion, are the very men who are first and foremost in maintaining this system. But I will leave the matter with themselves to settle. Christ says distinctly that such a system ought to be destroy¬ ed, and with him they may settle their differ¬ ence. To hear people talk about religion, about mor¬ ality, about virtue, about venerable institutions, and about maintaining our glorious constitution in church and state, in the midst of these things, is truly abominable. Nothing can be more out¬ rageously ridiculous. But even .this is a faint description of the evils which surround us ; it is quite impossible to com¬ prehend them, much less describe them. It has been proved over and over again, before commit¬ tees, of the House of Commons, that hundreds of people die through pure starvation and nothing else ; that tens of thousands are laboring for four and five shillings a week; that this sum is all they have to maintain themselves and families; that their principal food is oatmeal and potatoes, with occasionally some salt herrings. Now, in the face of these things, what are we to think when we consider that the people of this country can produce four or five times more wealth than they can consume ? That they can produce more food and clothing than all of us could eat or wear,and yet thousands of us are starving ? Does it not argue ignorance in some quarter ? Does it not 5 i prove that those who manage our affairs are ei¬ ther grossly ignorant or that they grossly neglect their business? One or the other of these it must prove, and whichever it be, neither ought to be suffered to continue. Look for a moment into their own newspapers; read their own accounts of the evils that exist. See the anger, and hatred, and strife, and fraud, and deception, and theft, and • robbery, and mur¬ der, and suicides, and crimes, and evils altogeth¬ er unlimited in number, and all proceeding from this brutal arrangement of society. People are driven into all kinds of vice, solely from the want of the means of a livelihood. Thousands of fe¬ males are driven to prostitution through this cause, and no other, and evidence of it is to be found in their own newspapers. Yet we are told by the ministers of the gospel, whose duty it is to put an end to these things, that no alteration is required, that no change is necessary ; and that we are Infidels for desiring it. Now, can any¬ thing be more enormously wicked ? Can any¬ thing be more abominably outrageous ? Because we wish to put an end to want, and vice, and wickedness, we are infidels, and bad men ! They may go on a little longer in this way, but the time is not far distant when very different wilt be their language, and very different their proceedings. The veil which has for ever darkened the eyes of the people, is now being removed. It has been torn from the eyes of thousands, in spite of all the efforts of the priesthood to prevent it. And I beg to inform them, that in the course of a very few years longer, the whole will be as completely re¬ moved, as darkness is removed by the rising of the sun. Talk about morality, indeed! My opinion is, that he who would continue the present arrange¬ ment of society, is the most immoral man in exis¬ tence. He might as well tell us at once, that star¬ vation, and theft, and robbery, and murder, and suicide, and prostitution, are all good things, and ought to exist. These are the fruits of the present arrangement, and any man who maintains it, maintains at the same time, a continuance of all its fruits. Can anything be plainer than this ? Can anything be more logical ? Let the parsons who have been at their universities, refute it if they can. Now, as to the human suffering that this system must occasion, there is no estimating the amount. It is altogether inconceivable. Look at the num¬ ber of suicides that take place weekly, through a reverse of fortune, embarrassed affairs, and vari¬ ous other causes springing out of this system. Think of the mental agony of the families of these people. Look at the thousands of people walk¬ ing about in utter destitution; driven about from parish to parish; their sufferings mocked instead of relieved. Read the account of a poor woman in London, who had a child dead; read of her wandering about from parish to parish for assist¬ ance, to enable her to bury it; and read of a bru¬ tal overseer, after refusing her relief, telling her to go to the doctor’s and sell it! Think of the distraction of this poor woman, and the outrage thus done to her feelings. Read also of a case which lately happened in Scotland ; a poor man having a child dead, had it buried, but not hav¬ ing the means of paying the burial dues, it was ordered to be taken up again, and the wretched man carried it home under his arm. These are fine samples of Christian charity and benevo¬ lence. These are fine specimens of the benign influence of the Christian religion. Read also of a poor woman and her two children, in a state of complete exhaustion and despair, taking refuge among pigs ; read of her children being found next morning dead by her side ; and herself in¬ sensible, and scarcely alive. Read of these things, and thousands of others which happen daily, and then comprehend, if you can, the wickedness of the men who would continue such a system. And in the face of these things, does it become us to talk about our Christian charity and benevo¬ lence ; our “ venerable institutions,” and such like stuff? Think also of the sufferings of thousands of people who are confined in prisons, and of others who have been transported from their native country, think of the sufferings of the families and relations of all these people, and then consider that the whole of them might have been made, under wise and rational arrangements, intelligent and virtuous men and women. Consider this, and thfen estimate the wisdom and humanity of those who manage our affairs. Talk about hu¬ manity! Why, if there w ere one particle left among the intelligent part of the people of this country, could they remain silent under such scenes ? Could they see all this misery and suf¬ fering inflicted upon their fellow-creatures, with¬ out attempting to relieve them? Yet they do see it, and they see it apparently with callous indif¬ ference. But the reason is, this brutalizing sys¬ tem has destroyed the best feelings that belong to our nature. It has made man the enemy of man, by the scramble which is going on for wealth. The interest of one man is opposed to that of the other, and hence these scenes of outrage and dis order. But the evils of the present system are alto¬ gether unbounded. They are daily and hourly to be seen; and, therefore, to enumerate any more is both useless and a waste of time. I have al¬ ready noticed fifty times more than sufficient to prove that the system is a bad one, and that we ought immediately to alter it. Having then set¬ tled this point, I now come to the errors upon which it is built; the greund and source of all its manifold evils. The source, then, of all our troubles, is the be¬ lief of man’s responsibility, in conjunction with a system of individual property. This is the vol¬ cano from which issue all the evils that afflict us. Not an evil can be mentioned, that cannot be traced to this source. All the anger, afl the ha¬ tred, all the revenge, all the deception, all the fraud, all the uncharitableness of every kind, all the vice, all the theft, all the robberies, all the murders, all the wars, all the suicides, all the prostitution, and every other species of evil that exists, can be as clearly traced to this cause as the branches of a tree can be traced to its root. Now this being the case, when we can trace all these evils to the belief of man’s responsibility,^ that alone not sufficient to prove it false ? Truth could never occasion these things. Truth is the source of good, and error alone the source of evil. Were it otherwise, then, indeed, we might com¬ plain of some imperfection in nature; then, we might talk about the fall of man, the depravity of his heart, his inward corruption, and all such .vulgar and ignorant nonsense. But, when we can trace all our evils to gross and palpable er¬ rors; when we find invariably that truth pro¬ duces good, and error produces evil; then, in¬ deed, we are sensible of the beauty and harmo¬ ny of nature’s laws ; then we are impressed with 6 their grandeur and excellence, and filled with feelings of wonder and admiration. Perhaps, of all the absurdities that are to be found in the minds of Christians, the one that here presents itself is the greatest. They tell us that man is a responsible being; that he ought to be punished for his wickedness; and if we ask them what makes man wicked ? “Oh,” say they, “it is his corrupt nature, his depraved heart.” Now, although our opponents say many wild and curi¬ ous things, although they stick not at trifles, sure¬ ly they will never presume to say that man makes his own nature or his own heart. Yet, unless they do this, what are they to do ? His deprav¬ ed heart and corrupt nature lead him into wick¬ edness, and if he did not make these himself, surely they are not so cruel as to make him re¬ sponsible for them. If man has a depraved heart and a corrupt nature, how can he help it ? He did not make them so; he could not make his own nature or his own heart, and if these, are bad why blame him for it ? He could not help it. But, besides this, here they are actually charg¬ ing God with making man depraved and corrupt. Now, if we were to do this; if we were thus pre¬ sumptuously to find fault with the works of God, why, all the dictionaries in the world would not afford them language sufficiently expressive to describe our horrible blasphemy, our daring in¬ sult to the Deity. But as it is, as the act is theirs, and not ours, it is all quite right. It is quite pious and quite religious. There is no blasphemy at all in it. They are one thing, and we are anoth¬ er, and this makes the difference. Our opponents presume to talk about our prin¬ ciples leading men into vice and crime; but if such notions as these have not that tendency, nothing in this world can have it. Here they tell the human race that they are all made corrupt and depraved, that they are “rotten to the very core,” as Mr, Roebuck said, “that their hearts are deceitful above all things, and desperately wick¬ ed;” which is all blasphemy, if anything can be blasphemy ; and the human race, believing all this, act, of course, as we see them act; they fall into all kinds of vice and wickedness. Were they told the contrary of this, they would then have some encouragement to be good; they would then know that they could be good. But to tell them they are bad bv nature; that they are prone to evil, and especially when practising all kinds of vice, is, in my opinion, a direct encouragement to vice.irlf their tendency to evil is greater than that to good, how can they help it ? It is perfect¬ ly rational that they should be vicious. Their vice is the result of one of the natural laws of the universe. That which is heavy, will always weigh down that which is light. Any man who knows what a pair of scales are, knows this. But, let me ask here, is it possible that men who be¬ lieve this can believe that man is a responsible being ? Can they punish him for that which, they must admit themselves, is a natural result of the immutable laws which govern the uni¬ verse? Yes, it is possible. There are thousands of men who believe this ; and if we venture to express.however mildly our dissent from such no tions ; oh, we are infidels, deists, and a*heists, and bad men ! Such is their wisdom and chari¬ ty- Now, were the human race told that all these notions were gross errors, that they were abso¬ lute trash : that man was not prone to evil, that he was not naturally corrupt, or depraved, that his nature was good, but that the source of his evil was his ignorance of what that nature is r and not in the nature itself, together with the in¬ stitutions surrounding him, which have arisen out of that ignorance; were they told this, they could then remedy the evil. They would then set about acquiring knowledge of their nature, and this would enable them to alter existing in¬ stitutions, and thus would the source of their evils be removed. But, to tell them that this source is their own bad nature, and not in exist¬ ing institutions, is, as I said before, a direct en¬ couragement to vice, and its present prevalence is a proof of it. They cannot alter their own na¬ ture, and hence they remain in the poverty, the vice, and the misery in which we now see them. But I must now return more immediately to my subject. These absurdities presented them¬ selves so glaringly, that I thought I would finish them off before I proceeded further. Hitherto, I have only asserted that man is not a responsible being, but now I shall proceed to prove it. As some disputes have arisen as to what we really mean by this word, “responsibility,” I will de¬ fine it before I go further. Man, we say, is not a responsible being. By this we mean,that he is nei¬ ther to be blamed nor praised, rewarded nor pun ished for either his thoughts, feelings, or actioris. This is the utmost extent of our irresponsibility And the reason is, that all these are given to man independent of himself. That society has the power to give to each individual, good thoughts or bad thoughts, good feelings or bad feelings, and good actions or bad actions, and^ in short, to make for each individual any sort of character it pleases. Now, when this is the case, we say it is unrea¬ sonable, irrational, and, at the same time, cruel,, to make man responsible; that is to say, blame him or praise him, reward him or punish him, whatever his character may be. Now, that man's character is formed for him, and not by him, I shall now proceed to prove. When a child comes into the world, its character depends, in the first place, upon its physical or¬ ganization; and, in the second place, upon the particular training up that it shall receive, and all external circumstances that shall surround it from birth. Now, that the child had no power in forming its physical organization, ho man, for a moment, can doubt. Its brain,and everything else were given to it altogether independent of itself, and therefore it cannot be responsible for these. Its particular training up is the next thing to look at. Has it any power over it ? Can it direct its parents how they are to manage it ? The thing must be evident. It has no more pow¬ er in this case than it had in the other, and that was none at all; and hence it follows that its character was given to it independent of itself, and, therefore.it is not a responsible being; Is it not plain and simple that if it have a good organization, and a good training up, and placed in good circumstances, that it will have a good character ; and if it have the opposite of these,is it not equally plain and sinfple that it will have a bad character ? How is it that the English have one general character, the Scotch another, the Irish another, the French another, the Italians another, and so on through all the nations of the world ? Is it because each nation has willed its particular character, or that it desired it in pre¬ ference to any other ? No. It is entirely because the circumstances surrounding each are different the training up is different, the education differ¬ ent, the religion different, the habits different, the 7 manners different, and so on; and hence the dif¬ ference of characters. And if we confine our¬ selves to our own country we shall see, in the same way, a variation of characters according to the variation of circumstances, only on a smaller scale. How is it that one man is virtuous and another is vicious? Is it because the parties will¬ ed having these characters; or is it not owing to the different circumstances ofe.ich? If I have a good organization and placed in good circum- stances, I am sure to have a good character; but then I did not form it myself. I did not form my own organization, nor did I place myself in these good circumstances ; and if these form my character, what nonsense it is to say that I form¬ ed it But what is very singular, while our opponents say that man forms his own character, they are actually practising the opposite doctrine. In bringing up their children, how careful they are in keeping them out of bad company * and how particular they are as to the school they send them to. They inquire into the moral character of the master, his religion, and various other mat¬ ters ; and they do all this for fear their children should be liable to contract bad habits, see bad examples, and thus acquire a bad character. Yet, in the face of all this, they tell us that man forms his own character. Why, if he did, what is all for this ? Why exercise all this care in preserv¬ ing their children from bad company, bad prac¬ tices, bad examples, and other unfavourable cir¬ cumstances? What effect ean these have upon them if they form their own characters? And if these have some effect upon them, as they evi¬ dently believe they have, is not that proof enough that they do not form their own charac¬ ters? Now, can our opponents call this consistent ? Can they pretend there is nothing irrational here? Practising the very thing which they deny ; act¬ ing upon our principles, and at the same time de¬ nying their truth. Is this consistent ? Is it ra¬ tional ? But the whole of their practices and pro¬ fessions are a jumble of contradictions from be¬ ginning to end. Another instance of absurdity of a similar kind is to be found in a report of a committee of the House of Commons, to inquire into the condition of the laboring classes. Among the witnesses who were examined was a parson ©f the Church of Eng¬ land, which circumstance by no means renders the absurdity anything the less. After proceed¬ ing a while he says, “ The effect of the present system of employing laborers has been dreadful; it has totally demoralized the lower orders: it has made them poachers, thieves, and robbers.’’ What, the system has! The system has made them poachers, thieves, and robbers! Why, I thought people formed their own characters. Now just look at this absurdity. Here is this par¬ son believing that man forms his own charac¬ ter, and, at the same time, telling the House of Commons that the characters of the laboring classes were formed, not by themselves, but by the particular system under which they were employed ; that the system had made them into thieves, poachers, and robbers. Can anything be plainer than this? Was absurdity ever more glar¬ ing or palpable ? Besides this, here is the “collective wisdom of the nation” receiving evidence that their mea¬ sures have made people into poachers, thieves, and robbers, and the next moment they go to work as coolly as possible, and enact severe laws for their punishment; and while this is going on, the parson is busy in his pulpit telling the people that God has provided a heaven and a hell for the good and the bad; that the bad will go to the latter place, and there endure everlasting tor¬ ments for their wickedness. And what is best of all, if we should venture to express our doubts as to the justice or consistency of such severe pun¬ ishment, especially when we considered that the “system had made the working classes into poach¬ ers, thieves, and robbers,” as the parson told the House of Commons ; O ! we are infidels, deists, and atheists; we are all that is bad! we are quite ignorant and visionary. Yes, I dare say we are; and it is very well we are nothing worse; for if we are to judge of people by their thoughts and actions, I should say that the parties who can ex¬ hibit such rare signs of wisdom as these, cannot be very far inferior to Solomon himself. Now I merely mention these instances of absurdity to show that even our opponents admit, on some oc¬ casions, the truth of our principles, and that they actually act upon them. In the case of training up their children we see them acting exactly in accordance with the principle that man does not form his own character. And as to the parson before the House of Commons* he says outright that it was the system that formed the charac¬ ters of the labouring classes, and not themselves; which is precisely our doctrine. So that, besides our own arguments in the matter, even our oppo¬ nents furnish us with arguments in proof of our doctrines. But some people will exclaim, “If the charac¬ ter of man is formed for him, and not by him, would you let people go unpunished when they do that which is wrong?” Now, in the first place, it is unjust to punish them, because their characters were given to them independent of themselves; but as long as this irrational system continue, some means must be used to deter them from the commission of crime, and although pun¬ ishments are resorted to for this purpose, they by no means have the desired effect. People still do wrong. They still rob and murder, in spite of all their punishments, either in this world or the world to come. Let the advocates of punish¬ ments remember this. But in the second place, (and let our opponents take notice of this r ) when we have the power to make people either good characters or bad characters, either virtuous or vicious, would it not be a thousand times more wise and more just to make them into the former rather than the latter? Would it not be better to make them all wise, virtuous, and happy, than ignorant, vicious, and miserable ? Let oui eppo nents give us an answer to this. Let them tell us whether it be wise and just to make people in¬ to bad characters, and then punish them for be¬ ing so? Let them point out to us the wisdom and justice of this. Let them show us the human¬ ity of. everlastingly torturing their fellow-crea¬ tures, when the whole might be avoided by wise and rational arrangements. And the next time Mr. Stowell lectures against what he calls Infi¬ delity, let him tell us whether these are the blessed effects of the Christian religion; whether these are specimens of its benign influence ; its mercy, its charity, its forbearance, and its bene¬ volence ? When we think of the miseries the human race have to suffer, owing to these irrational arrange¬ ments, how limited does the intelligence of man yet appear! And how ridiculous are all his pre- 8 tensions to knowledge, while groaning under these vast and monstrous evils. I have now, I thing, fully proved that man does not form his own character; that it is altogether formed for him; and therefore he is not a responsi¬ ble being; that to blame him, to praise him, to reward him, or to punish him, whatever his char¬ acter may be, is altogether absurd and unjust. Upon the opposite of this principle society is now built, and, as I said before, this error, in con¬ nection with a system of individual or private property, is the sole and entire cause of all the evils which now afflict the human family. 1 have said that these evils can be as clearly trac¬ ed to this cause, as the branches of a tree can be traced to its root, and I shall now proceed to prove it. The greatest and most prolific of all our evils is that of poverty, or the want of the necessaries of life. Now, this is as clearly the product of in¬ dividual property, as smoke is a product of fire. Individual property engenders the disposition to grasp or accumulate, and it is owing to this that so many are in poverty and rags. Some possess these qualifications in a higher degree than oth¬ ers, and some have better opportunities than oth¬ ers, and hence it is that some are immensely rich while tens of thousands are starving. And ob¬ serve, it is not owing to a scarcity of provisions in the country ; it is not owing to this that peo¬ ple are starving. On the contrary, it is owing, as the collective wisdom of the nation have more than once declared, to a superabundance of these. What! a superabundance of the necessaries of life in the country, and people starving; Yes; but, then, those who are starving cannot get them. What! cannot get them I what for? Why, their humane and charitable fellow-Christians have them locked up in vast warehouses, and they thus withhold them from them. And is this Christianity ? Is this an evidence of its benign influence? Is this loving their neighbors as them¬ selves? Is this abounding in love and charity one towards another ? But we blame them not for it; the system is the cause of it and not them¬ selves. How different would everything be in a Community! All would be rich alike; no private or individual property ; what belong¬ ed to one man would belong to the whole, and what belonged to the whole would be¬ long to each. The more wealth we pos¬ sessed the better would each of us be off, which is the very reverse under the present arrange¬ ment. People are starving because we possess a superabundance of wealth. They have worked so much that they have produced more food and clothing than we require, and they cannot get these because they cannot get work, and they cannot get woik because they have already work¬ ed too much. Now, who can help admiring an arrangement so evidently sensible ; so abounding in marks of intelligence and wisdom, and at the same time so beautiful and harmonious! We must not find fault with it, or we are infidels and Atheists. Such is the wisdom of the age. In a community all would be different; being all equal, we should work aboul four hours a day and no longer, which would be quite suf¬ ficient to supply us all with an abundance of every necessary and comfort of life. And instead of living in the filthy, confined, and unwholesome towns in which we now are, we should have the most healthy situations the country could afford. Only look at the filthy hbles that human beings now live in ; see them creeping under ground, and there eating and sleeping in the most confin¬ ed and unhealthy atmosphere; see some of them without beds and without food, and covered with miserable rags ; see them enduring all the mise¬ ries and sufferings that hunger and want occa¬ sion, and then say who is the Christian or the In¬ fidel ; he who would continue such things or he who would put an end to them ? Poverty, then, or a want of the necessaries o{ life, clearly proceeds from individual property, and no other cause. And as poverty is the cause of an unlimited amount of vice and crime, it fol¬ lows, that by removing it from the world the whole of its mighty evils will also be removed. Now, as to theft, and murder, and suicide, and prostitution, they so evidently proceed from indi¬ vidual property and responsibility, that I haidly need show it. No man can thieve in a Commu¬ nity,—all would be his own ; and, therefore, to thieve would be ridiculous; it would be a robbe¬ ry committed upon himself; and even that is an absurdity. And as to murder, the very idea is absurd. How can a man murder, if he believe in irresponsibility ? If a man be offended by another, he would have no anger or malice towards him for it; he would freely forgive him : he would know* that his character had been formed for him, and not by him; and, therefore, to injure him would be both absurd and unjust. And as to suicides, if we could suppose that in a Community there could be any reverses of fortune, by one man rob¬ bing another; if we could suppose people would become bankrupts and such like; if we could suppose there would be horrible workhouses, where husbands would be separated from their wives, and wives from husbands, and children from parents; if we could suppose these and ma¬ ny other things, then we might imagine the pos¬ sibility of suicide, but not until then. And as to prostitution, every body knows that poverty is the cause of that, and therefore that is at once put an end to. Now, when we think of the ministers of the gospel, and know that their sole business is to put an end to vice, and crime, and wickedness of all kinds, what are we to think of them when we see them going on as they are ? Instead of putting an end to the causes which produce these, they are actually supporting those causes with all their might. They are supporting the very things they ought to destroy. What are we to think of such men ? Can we believe them to be sincere? If they desire to put an end to vice and crime, why do they not remove the causes which produce them ? These causes are clear before their eyes; they cannot plead ignorance of them; why, then, do they .pot remove them ? Preaching and praying are of no use, at least they are not adequate to the task. They have preached and prayed for nearly 2000 years, and mankind are more vicious now than ever they were. And surely 2000 years are long enough to try an expe¬ riment. That experiment is an evident failure and the unbounded prevalence of vice is a proof of it. And how should it be otherwise? Nature is uniform in all her operations; where certain causes exist, certain effects will always exist; and therefore, if we want to remove vice and wick¬ edness from the world, we must first of all re¬ move the causes which produce them. But the ministers of the gospel, far otherwise enlightened, go in the very face of nature, and support these causes. And while they do this, they imagine they can frighten people from vice and wicked 9 ness, by telling them that God will punish them eternally after they are dead. Now, that this is silly ana stupid in the extreme, we have the most decided proofs. The first is, the absurdity of sup¬ posing that effects can be removed withopt the causes; and the next is, that notwithstanding all their efforts to frighten people into morality, they are more immoral than ever. The only way, then, to remove vice and wick¬ edness from the world, is to remove the causes which produce ihem, and this can only be done by the means of Communities. Let, then, the ministers of the gospel preach this to the people; let them apply their churches and chapels to this purpose, instead of the useless purposes to which they are now applied; let them teach the people a knowledge of their own nature, instead of a knowledge of things altogether imaginary; let them explain to them the formation of the human character; let them show them that the character of every man is formed for him,and not by him,and therefore, all men ought to “abound in love and charity one towards another;” let them tell their congregations that the reason this precept of Je¬ sus Christ has never yet been practised, is be¬ cause they have hitherto believed that man form¬ ed his own character, which is a decided and palpable error; let them describe to them the fa¬ tal effects of this error; let them tell them that it alone is the source of all the anger, all the ha¬ tred, all the malice, all the revenge, and all the ill feeling and uncharitableness of every kind that have ever existed between man and man, and the whole of those would be at once annihilated by the explosion of this error alone; let them teach the people these things, and they would do more in one year, in putting a stop to vice and wickedness, than they have done in 2000 years of preaching and praying. What use is it in giving people commands when they cannot obey them ? What use is it m pour¬ ing out precept after precept, when people can¬ not practise them ? And who can practise the precepts of Jesus Christ under the present sys¬ tem? Can any of those who call themselves Christians do it? Do any of them do it ? Not a soul of them. Then, is this not a proof that the system is bad ? If men were to practise these precepts, the whole scene would be changed ; no' anger, or malice, or hatred, or revenge, or theft, or murder, or beggary, or want, would ever be heard of But people cannot practise these pre¬ cepts under the present system. The Christians themselves acknowledge it. And how 7 is it likely? Man is endowed with a principle called self-pre¬ servation, and he is compelled to act under its influence. It is that principle which preserves his existence, and if he did not possess it his ex¬ istence would cease. Let not, then, the Chris¬ tians tell us that it springs from his depravity. In its operations it compels man to seek that which is beneficial to him, and avoid that which is hurt¬ ful. All men, therefore, are striving to benefit themselves. Now, the present arrangement of society is such, that while one man is benefiting himself he is injuring another; and this is owing to an opposition of interests, or individual proper¬ ty. If, therefore, we could arrange society so that the interest of one man would be the inter¬ est of the whole, the thing would be accomplish¬ ed at once; for, while one man, under the influ¬ ence of this same principle of self-preservation, was benefiting himself, he would at the same time be benefiting the whole, and thus all would be peace and harmony. Now, it fortunately hap¬ pens that we can arrange society in this way* We can establish communities all over the coun¬ try, such as proposed by Robert Owen, contain¬ ing about 2000 people each, or more if conveni¬ ent. In these Communities every man would be equal, and there would be no individual property, or no clashing of interest. Every man, therefore, in benefiting himself, would benefit the whole, and thus would there be effected a greater amount of good for the human race than ever was effect¬ ed by all the warriors, and heroes, and conquer¬ ors, and patriots that ever lived. How can a man love his neighbour as himself* when that neighbor is swallowing up ail his cus¬ tom ? And how can one shopkeeper love another* when he sees him resorting to all sorts of schemes to take away his trade ? How can a workman love his employer, when he sees him reducing his wages! Or, how can the employer love his workman, when he sees him striving to prevent him ? How can a tenant love his landlord, when he sees him selling off his goods for rent, and thus casting him into the streets to starve? How can a debtor love his creditor, when he sends him off to gaol for a debt he cannot pay ? How can there be any love at all under the present system ? Tradesmen of All kinds have to practise all man¬ ner of deception and fraud; they have to lie, and cheat, and deceive, or they cannot carry on. They affect friendship for each other, merely as a cloak for their fraud and deception. And, as to “ doing unto others as you would wish others to do unto you,” there is nothing in the whole world even approaching to it. The system itself is a burlesque upon the precept; a complete mockery. Its very existence would cease, were the precept practised. Not an offi¬ cer or functionary of any description could act* Judges, jurors, magistrates, lawyers, witnesses* attorneys, constables, policemen, and fifty others, would all be at a stand still; not one of them could act. Their duties would be wholly at an end, and the system would be blown to atoms. And as to tradesmen, and all other description of people, they also would be equally fast. Now is this very circumstance not sufficient to show the beauty of the present system ? How har¬ moniously it works with the precepts of Jesus Christ! Only think of a hundred and thirty thousand men, called soldiers, being spread all over the country 7 ; and just think What they are for. Christ commands them to love their neighbors as them¬ selves. And what does the system do ? Why, slaughter them. They are hired and kept by their fellow-christians, for the express purpose of slaying those whom Christ says they ought to love as themselves. Now, can we have a finer speck men than this, of the beauty and harmony of the present arrangement ? Can we have more evi¬ dent marks of profound wisdom and solid sense? But we are infidels if we find fault with it; we must, therefore, be very cautious. If any man want to witness absurdity altogeth¬ er incomprehensible, let him follow the soldiers to church on a Sunday. Let him enter the church, and deposit himself in a pew (if his fellow-chris* tian will allow him,) where he can have a view of both parson and soldiers. Let him listen a while, until the parson come to, “Love thy neigh¬ bor as thyself; do unto all men as you would they should do unto you ;” and then let him look at the soldiers full in the face. What is he to think ? Here is the parson telling them to love their neighbors as themselves, while both parson io arid congregation have them hired for the express purpose of slaying people, What is any man to think of such an exhibition? Why, that the con¬ cern altogether is truly abominable. Another dis¬ play of absurdity is exhibited by Christians pro¬ fessing to forgive men their tresspasses, while they practise the very reverse. The parson rhymes over every Sunday, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us,” and so on. Mo vs can anything be more abominable? Calling upon the Deity to forgive them their tres- asses, because they have iorgiven those who ave trespassed against them, which is one of the greatest falsehoods that ever was uttered, i'hey talk about the Deity being omnipresent and om¬ niscient. Why, if this be the case, how could they ever muster up assurance enough to talk this way in his presence ? If he posess these at¬ tributes, he must know that they are telling him that which is the very opposite to truth: he must know that they do not forgive men their trespass¬ es, but that they punish and persecute them in all manner of ways; and, therefore, to ask his forgiveness, in consequence of them forgiving others, is one Of the most abominable abomina¬ tions that man can conceive. Talk about blas¬ phemy ! Why this is fifty thousand times worse. There is no word in the dictionary suitable for it. It positively excels all. What! forgive men their trespasses, and thousands upon thousands of peo¬ ple suffering all manner of punishments? Thous¬ ands suffering in gaols, for debts they are unable to pay ! Millions suffering minor punishments of all sorts ! and telling the Deity that you forgive .men their trespasses ! Nothing can equal it. It is a total eclipse of all. Christ says distinctly in his sermon on the mount that “Unless ye forgive men their trespasses, nei¬ ther will your heavenly Father forgive you.” Now what in the name of all that is merciful, is to become of all the Christians? Not one of them will forgive men their trespasses. To the infer¬ nal regions the whole of them are doomed; at least if this be true, and they say it is. What an awful idea! They will not only not forgive men their trespasses, but they actually abuse us if we do it. We are teaching a doctrine that will lead all men to forgive each other their trespasses ; that will make them all kind and charitable, one towards another; and for doing this they call us infidels, atheists, deists, and ail the bad names they can think of. But we do not blame them for it; we know that their characters have been formed for them, and not by them; and, therefore we freely forgive them all their trespasses. But is it not strange and unaccountable that, while we practise this precept of Jesus Christ, and they do not, they call us infidels, and themselves Chris¬ tians, and that we will go to hell, and that they will go to heaven ? Can anything be more my¬ sterious ? But such is their rationality. We are preaching to the world the formation of the human character; w’e are telling all men that it is unjust and absurd to make man resposi- ble for either his thoughts, feelings, or actions ; that these exist in every individual independent of himself; that his character is altogether formed for him, and not by him ; and that, therefore, we can never be angry with each other, but must al¬ ways forgive one another our trespasses, which is precisely the precept of Jesus Christ; only we give reasons for it, and he does not; and for doing this we are infidels and bad men, and will be sure to go to hell. And what makes the thing fifty times worse, while those who do not prac¬ tise this precept, although they profess to believe it, are Christians and good men, and will be sure to go to heaven. Such is the power of error and delusion. I recollect speaking to a Christian on this par¬ ticular point, of forgiving men their trespasses. I asked him how they could expect to go to heaven as long as they punished people as they did ; for, said I, Christ says, “Unless you forgive men their trespasses, neither will your heavenly Father for¬ give your trespasses.” He replied, ‘ We do for¬ give men their trespasses.” “ What,” said I, “sending men to prison for paltry debts; trans¬ porting them, and punishing them in all manner of ways; is tfyis forgiving men their trespasses?” “Oh,” says tie, “but we forgive them in our hearts.” “Oh, indeed,” I replied, “ then, I sup¬ pose, if God sends you to hell, and if he only for¬ give you in his heart, you will be quite satisfi¬ ed.” His answer came from his looks instead of his mouth. Such is a specimen of the masses of error and absurdity which yet fill the minds of millions of men; and such are the sources of all the miseries the human race are suffering. A change, how¬ ever, is at hand. The eyes of the people are opening; error and delusion are taking flight. The veil is being withdrawn, and there is no power on earth adequate to replace it. I have now, I think, accomplished my task. I have exposed the errors and evils of the present arrangement of society; I have traced the vice and crime to the source from whence they spring; I have shown that that source is not in the de¬ pravity of man, as the priesthood allege, but in the ignorant and irrational arrangements around him; I have shown that as long as these arrangements last, so long will man be ignorant, vicious, and miserable; and that as soon as these arrange¬ ments shall cease, and Communities be establish¬ ed upon ihe plan proposed by Robert Owen, so soon will man be transformed into a wise, virtu¬ ous, and happy being. In conclusion, I beg to call upon the Clergy of all Denominations; I respectfully demand that they either clear up all these masses of errors and contradictions, or at once abandon them for ever. It is their duty to remove error wherever they see it; and if I am in error, I beg they will show it; and if l am not in error, I demand that they will acknowledge it, and give up their present proceedings. One or the other of these they are bound to do, and which ever it may be I *hall feel contented. Truth only can prevail and ifour opinions are not truth, the sooner we are without them the better.