analogous to himself. The course of this original deviation from the true direction towards religious truth, appears full of monstrosities all over the face of the earth; but as the original impulse is never exhausted, we must believe that its misdirection will be observed and corrected, in proportion to the increase of intellectual light which experience and its result, civilization, bring with them. Unfortunately, Priests and enthusiasts stand in the way of this gradual improvement: they stop it every where, in the name of Heaven, and persecute all those who encourage the development of the human mind. The original impulse is, nevertheless, too strong to be fully and permanently opposed. That same craving after the invisible source of our being which degenerates, at first, into extravagant idolatry, urges a certain number of thinking men to ransack, as it were, both the external and internal world, in the pursuit of that truth. There is, of course, much bewilderment in this process, especially under the irritating oppoIsition which the ministers and slaves of the established religions oppose to it. But all is in vain— the search continues in spite of external persecution, and frequent internal disappointment. At length men are induced to look within themselves, where the perennial fountain of good lies concealed. To this really providential process it is that we owe the advance of Mental Philosophy-the only faithful guide that can lead us out of the chaos of error in which society (especially in England) is sunk. The

light of this philosophy is nothing else but the light which may be elicited from within every human mind not brutalized by ignorance and passion. When it shall have spread itself sufficiently, among those whom Providence appoints every where to take the rational lead,-when the painful, and it may be horrible destruction of the existing obstacles shall have cleared the way for the operation of the rational influencesit will be found that true philosophy may extend its blessed influence even to the lowest ranks of a society, where the corrupting extremes of luxury, which makes men insolent, and poverty, which makes them desperate, will not exist.

Finished a Letter on the dangers of Ordination.

*" August 24th, 1839.

The Moral Dangers of Ordination in Churches which, supported by the State, demand Subscription to Articles of Faith.

"I have lately congratulated you upon your great success in obtaining the highest literary honours

I have so altered the subjoined Letter, as to prevent its betraying the name of the person for whom I intended it. I abstained from sending it, by the advice of my son, who was persuaded that my observations would have produced pain and uneasiness, without preventing the impending evil.

which the University of Oxford bestows on men of your standing. If these honours do not place you in the highest ranks of external dignity, they certainly vouch for a degree of knowledge which will frequently be looked for in vain, among those who display the most pompous marks of distinction. As I contributed, in a certain measure, to your being placed in a situation where you have both developed your talents, and given the most satisfactory proofs of your excellent character,—as I had the happiness (for such I deem it) of averting the danger, in which you were, of being torn away from the books you so heartily loved, still a boy, and finding yourself doomed to the drudgery of some trade, the prosperous issue of your examination for Honours has in a great degree made your triumph my own, and raised my spirits as if I had had a more direct influence in the acquisition of your academical laurels.

"But in the midst of this joy at your success, my mind has for many days been contending against a cloud of fear and uneasiness, in regard to certain most serious dangers which inevitably attend it. To be explicit at once: I fear that you consider yourself already bound in pure gratitude to your University friends, to take Orders in the Church of England, as soon as you arrive at the age demanded by the Canons: this is the source of my anxiety. I can most readily conceive the astonishment with which this plain statement of my feelings will fill you. You cannot but be shocked at my language: you must

think me almost insane to represent your taking Orders as a serious danger. Such feelings in you, my young friend, are not only natural, but creditable. I should think less favourably than I do of your temper and character, if, in your circumstances, you were a total stranger to them. Your heart must have been hard as a rock, if it had been impervious to the mass of soft and enticing influences which have worked upon it from the time of your birth, have increased in intensity during your youth, and lately burst with the most attractive vehemence within your breast. What you feel is a work of delusion—of cruel, grossly interested delusion; but what does your kind soul know of such delusion-a delusion contrived by policy, deeply disguised under the shape of Godly zeal, and not unfrequently aided and supported by sincere but mistaken piety?

"Such, I grieve to say, is the actual state of things in England. The country is covered with snares of all kinds, for the purpose of strengthening the power of the Clergy, or, as the promoters of hierarchical power call it-the Church. Open your still unsuspecting eyes, and observe with what cruel obstinacy all kind of instruction is denied to the Poor unless they receive it in conjunction with the theological tenets contained in the 39 Articles. Examine, what you best know, the magnificent establishment in which you have been educated; and though your view of the vast field of knowledge must be still rather confined, you will soon be convinced, that

the University of Oxford is not a foundation for the enlargement and perfecting of that knowledge, but, on the contrary, an engine to keep it confined to the narrow limits, within which it does not threaten the immediate destruction of the obsolete philosophy and criticism, which are the basis of the ChurchSystem. For a proof of this assertion I will apply to you. You have been a diligent student; you have shown yourself capable of every variety of instruction. Yet, after having laboured so strenuously that, at the approach of your final examination, you felt your mind almost ready to be paralysed by long over-exertion, is not your knowledge, I will ask you, though valuable in itself, almost inapplicable to the great interests of our moral and intellectual life? You have acquired the elements of pure and mixed Mathematics, and have proved yourself a great proficient in Greek and Latin; you have studied most minutely some of the Classics, and could give ready answers as to their contents. But has the University afforded you the means of obtaining a philosophical view of the history of Man? Have you a distinct knowledge of the relative place which the literature you have so faithfully studied, occupies in the progressive growth of our present mental state?-You have been obliged to study what is called Divinity, as an indispensable condition of your being approved in the Schools. But what is that Divinity? Is it not the continuation of the Catechism, which in your infancy was forced upon your helpless mind; of the positive