to my mind by the mere title of the Society had subsided, and I had time to consider the plans proposed for the Civilization of Africa, I daily grew more and more persuaded that, in spite of the true zeal and knowledge of its acting Members, the evils of the abominable trade, far from being checked by the intended means, were likely to be increased. As an honorary Member of the Liverpool Committee, I have reflected on their resolution lately published, and perfectly agree with their views. I am perfectly aware of my total insignificance and obscurity; but my love of sincerity does not allow me to continue a Member of your Society. I write from a bed of sickness, where, after long sufferings, I feel convinced that the hand of death is on the point of relieving me. But whether I live or die, my heart will always cling to the friends of Africa, though my understanding may not approve of their measures. I am, &c. My dear Sir, To Professor Norton. Carlisle Cottage, Whitfield-street, Park, Your very kind letter of the 25th ult. has reached me this morning, when, after a series of sufferings which are of daily occurrence, I am enjoying such a degree of repose as has not fallen to my lot for many weeks. During this long period of bodily torture, I have twice felt convinced that in not many hours, I should have to resign the whole of my being into the kind and safe keeping of Him from whom I derive it. I have, indeed, rejoiced in this sort of trial, because it has afforded me a strong proof that my settled convictions are not subject to the waverings of fear. Now, whatever I shall mention on this point I shall merely state as a matter of personal experience, and in no way as applicable to controversy. of the maturest years of my life, the vast variety which appears in the workings of opinions upon different characters. The mere possibility of doubting some particular doctrine will fill certain minds with terror. I myself have felt this mighty fear. I experienced it, when having taken refuge in the shallow Protestantism of a political church, I found myself beset by irresistible doubts on the doctrine of the Trinity and the Atonement. I have observed in the course A worthy and very kind friend, whom Nature had exempted from doubt on subjects which habit and feeling had sanctioned to him, once found me bathed in tears, lamenting that my faith had vanished without the least hope of recovering it. In spite of this weakness, the constitution of my mind made it impossible for me to stop inquiry. I examined, and often imagined I was satisfied, but my satisfaction arose from sympathy with individuals I loved, and the vain hope of continuing in unity to the end with persons whom I highly valued, and whose esteem I could not preserve unless I fully subscribed their creed. From my works, however, you must have formed some idea of my painful progress towards the full attainment of my liberty. I am free, but has truth bestowed this gift upon me? Most certainly it has, if by truth we understand the discovery and rejection of error. The Phantoms that haunted my soul have completely vanished; but what positive truth supports my moral being? One which I cannot reduce to a logical process, but which has the strongest foundation in the very essence of my soul. I am certain that God, by the light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world, dwells in my soul. It is there that I make my rearest approach to that ineffable Being whom I love more than life. There I have constantly found him in proportion as I have ceased to rely for hope on philosophical doctrines consecrated by Divines into dogmas. I am far from denying the existence of individual men after death, L but I should be on the other hand most miserable, if I had to fortify a belief in that doctrine by a constant search after analogies, probabilities,—and, worst of all, by Revelations depending for authority upon written documents and the interpretation of philological difficulties. Why then should I step out of the path so clearly marked out for me by Providence? I could not more firmly believe in God, I could not trust in Him with more filial confidence, were I to stand on any other foundation than that which I have found within myself. I would not, however, endeavour to force it upon others. I would certainly recommend it if I saw the usual foundations tottering; otherwise I would never disturb any one unless, misled by false zeal, he carried disturbance into the souls of others. I thank God that you, whose esteem I value most highly, do not make that esteem depend on opinions, which, however sound they may be, are totally independent of our will. I must conclude this dreamy letter; but not without thanking Mrs. Norton for her most friendly expressions of kindness toward me. Believe me, ever yours, most gratefully and sincerely, J. BLANCO WHITE. To Miss L-———. Liverpool, Dec. 16, 1840. My dear Miss L Your letter, Berlin, 7th Dec., has reached me this morning, and I am determined to acknowledge it this day. If, in my present miserable state, I allow the impulse which a letter gives me to grow faint, I find the greatest difficulty to answer. Helped by the first impression, I do not find it very fatiguing to say a few words to a friend. You must not, however, expect any thing satisfactory on the subjects which occupy your thoughts. My strength is totally ex hausted by a very severe illness which, since May last, has kept me in great tortures, besides my other habitual miseries. I have just risen from my bed, which I was obliged to keep for many weeks, in consequence of a very severe rheumatism, followed by an internal attack, which twice made me believe that I could not live many hours. But it seems I am doomed to continue upon the rack of life-I can hardly give any other name to my own. I am again fixed to a chair, unable to reach a book, and very little able to read it. One satisfaction, however, I have derived from this severe trial. My expectation of death did not in the least disturb my convictions—those negative convictions which, for persons educated in Dogmatic Churches, are of paramount importance-the certainty that our happiness in another life cannot depend upon the acknowledgment of certain propositions. No one educated by means of a Catechism can obtain tranquillity, till he is thoroughly persuaded that religion does not consist in history, criticism, or metaphysics. You appear to me still to cling too much to the acknowledgment of certain usual assertions respecting Christ. The accuracy of such assertions depends so much upon the authenticity and interpretation of historical documents, that thinking people exhaust themselves in vain in trying to make them part and parcel of their souls-a sort of intuitive conviction which cannot proceed from such sources. It seems to me as if you were afraid of displeasing Jesus of Nazareth, by not making him the object of certain theological compliments. Give up, I would advise you, all these old prejudices. Follow God in the sanctuary of your heart, and do not harrass yourself to make out that you are a Christian, in spite of Divines. Be a child of God, in the spirit of Jesus Christ himself; but never believe that a certain form has been fixed, to which every soul must conform in order to be acceptable to the Father of our spirits. I believe, in my Heresy and Orthodoxy, I have thrown out thoughts which completely demonstrate the impossibility of a peculiar revelation. The theory of such a revelation invalidates itself. I am writing almost at random, but I feel already so exhausted, that I cannot be more methodical. My German reading is nearly at a stand. I have not strength to pursue deep thought, especially in a language which I possess but imperfectly. It has not pleased God to allow me to visit that surprising country; it would have given me the highest pleasure to know it. Believe me, with the most sincere esteem, J. BLANCO WHITE. 21st. The shortest day of the year, in such a climate as this, is one that should be met with rejoicings: Darkness is conquered. Nativitas solis invicti deserves a welcome. My night was tolerable. 27th. I have sadly neglected this Journal: upon the whole I have suffered less. Dr. Sutherland wrote to Mrs. Whately about my removal from Liverpool. She answered most kindly, with a message from the Archbishop, who offers to pay all expenses. Though I had not written upon that subject, she wrote to me also. Something she said unfavourable to the plan of going to London, induced me to suggest (rather obscurely) that if they had no objection I would go to their neighbourhood |