our conduct are incontrovertible, even on the supposition of there being no higher authority. Virtue and Vice would remain exactly what the purest religion considers them, if it could be proved beyond doubt that man is an ephemeral being: future rewards and punishments cannot alter their nature. He who abstains from vicious actions only from fear of eternal punishments, and who is conscious that, were there no future life, he would make Evil his Good, may be sure that Virtue has no share in his heart. This man, nevertheless, if he firmly believes in a future life, is encouraged by our Divines: while the true lover of Virtue, who follows her for her own sake, who considers her a sufficient reward in the midst of suffering, and independently of what God may have reserved for us after death, this man is told that he labours in vain-that his faithfulness will not only go unrewarded, but that his virtuous disinterestedness shall be punished for ever. This is mon strous. I myself cannot believe that death shall put an end to my being; I have strong grounds to hope that my Maker has happiness in reserve for me; but if that happiness depends upon the certainty of my expectation, I must lose it. But blessed be God! my trust in him is not shaken by any doubt of this kind. My love of his Goodness is independent of expected rewards. I am abundantly rewarded when I am conscious of that love; my failures in the pursuit of virtue, my deviations into vice, have been their own punishment. I am not tempted to complain even when the possibility of the cessation of my personality occurs to me. I am ready to die, whatever dying may be; and I hope to die in full trust of the Power who brought me into this existence. April 1st. Good Friday. To the Meeting, at Renshaw-street Chapel, for es tablishing a Minister for the Poor. of much exhaustion and suffering. Spoke in a state My dear Sir, Letter to Dr. Channing. April 1st, 1836. It was not till yesterday that I had the truly great gratification of a letter from you.. I found the parcel containing your work on SLAVERY on my desk, and having taken it up immediately after reading the letter, I did not retire to sleep till I had read it through. Far be it from me to say what I do not feel, or to exaggerate my sentiments for the sake of pleasing others. But I think it a duty fully to express the effect of any work, upon any important subject, when the result of my reading is a perfect coincidence with the author; and not only a coincidence, but the warmest, most heartfelt approbation. It is due to a writer's sincere endeavours to reach the inmost soul of his fellow-men, for good, to assure him that he has not laboured in vain; that every string of another heart vibrates to the throbs of his own. The subject of Slavery attracted my mind from a very early age, and the interest which I felt for the millions who have suffered, and still suffer, from that monstrous wrong, is not diminished in the evening of my life. You have raised your voice against it with the greatest power, as well as with the greatest moderation and justice. I thought I heard man's tyranny condemned by a being with all the sympathies, but above the angry and disturbing passions of our nature. Your proclamation of the supremacy of Duty was like a hymn of praise to God, in my ear. I longed to swell it with my feeble voice in the hearing of all mankind.—But I must stop you might suspect (not knowing me personally) that I am studying my praise of your work. Mr. Thom has heard my language about it this very morning; and he can bear witness that it flows from my heart. I have written a great part of my Memoirs, which are not to be published till after my death. Few, except men like yourself, will take an interest in them: the irreligious will despise me for most of what I have to state; the dogmatic religionists will conclude that I have ended in something little short of atheism, and will turn away from the history of my mind with horror. That history, however, shall be known. I consider it my paramount duty; if I have not lived for the purpose of attesting faithfully the facts of my mental experience, I have lived in vain. But I have better hopes; and the joy with which, at the close of my mission, I look at the instances in which God has enabled me to be faithful to it, is a pledge that I am not deceived. I will pay the most serious attention to your queries. I have found great faithfulness in individuals of the most opposite views as to the points disputed among Christians. But the general result of my observation is, that most of what is called Christianity exists in the imagination it is not a thorough, rational conviction. Wherever that exists, where the intellectual, moral being is penetrated with the great truth of God's Paternity in regard to us, where conscience has become his oracle and his representative, faithfulness is the fruit and result. I am sorry to hear that you are my brother sufferer. My health scarcely deserves that name: yet I am better than I have been for the last twenty years. May God give you strength to bear up against bodily infirmity! Your works do not bear the remotest mark of it. May you long continue to struggle against error and vice, with the same success which has hitherto crowned your efforts! Accept my most sincere and brotherly sympathy in every respect. Yours ever most truly, J. BLANCO WHITE. To J. S. Mill, Esq. April 4th, 1836. My dear Sir, Having received the London and Westminster this afternoon, I have already read your excellent article on Civilization. Your views are as correct as they are profound and well expressed. The essential defect of education in England is exposed in a masterly manner. Alas! who will listen to you? Look at the state of Oxford; look at the timidity of the persecuted man, at his full admission of the wrong principle, that his duty is to inculcate certain views! It appears to me, that our Review avoids too much a direct collision with the mischievous system of religion, which the State supports. You-the leadersare too much away from the mass of bigotry and superstition existing in the country, and, as it were, disdain the subject. I am, however, of opinion, that the collateral light, thrown out by the liberal publications, will never be sufficient to dispel any part of that immense darkness which, under the name of religion, affords a skulking place to the most designing enemies of the improvements which civilization calls for, in order to counteract its incidental evils. The Theologians should be routed: the evil they are doing is immense. Has not Orangeism itself as sumed the character of a Religious Society? Is not even the Duke of Cumberland orthodox? I wish to know if you desire to have any thing from me for the sixth Number, and what work you would like me to try my hand upon. I should not dislike a vacation; but I will not desert you, if you wish any assistance on my part. I hope by this time your health is again fully restored. I have had a good deal of additional suffering in consequence of my new house. I have had to learn experimentally the abominable state of the law in regard to landlord and tenant. I am really alarmed when I consider the power which a dishonest landlord has over a man, who, like myself, enters into the possession of a house without precautionary agreements. But I opened my eyes to the danger after I had put myself into the power of the landlord. I shall hope that he is not a rogue. But as far as I can judge, this town abounds in that sort. Let me hear from you at your first leisure. J. BLANCO WHITE. Letter to Miss L. 22, Upper Stanhope-street, Liverpool, April 25th, 1836. My dear Miss L You need not apologise for writing to me: I wish you to write as often as you find it convenient. I should be glad, indeed, if I could assist you in your studies by means of a regular correspondence. This desire is not so perfectly disinterested as might appear at first sight. My solitude presses hard upon me. Yesterday, for instance, finding myself too unwell to venture to chapel, I passed the day in almost absolute incommunication with my fellow-creatures. Except the few words which I had occasion to speak to my housekeeper, I might well say, |