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the acquisition and the diffusion of know-
ledge. The light which thereby flowed in
was perhaps dearly bought, but it was
worth buying. buying The general state of mind,
however, in both islands at present is such,
that though knowledge may be retarded,
it cannot be shut out; the progress may be
slow, but it will be sure. Of a great part
of our countrymen, we are justified in say-
ing, that their ignorance and their idleness
proceed not so much from the want of
means to obtain useful knowledge, as from
those unfortunate habits which create an
unwillingness to make use of those means;
and as to religion, God forbid that I should
charge any of its ministers with an inten-
tion to preclude their flocks from the ad-
vantages of wholesome instruction. Some
are more active or more liberal than others,
but I take it for granted that all mean well.
In Scotland, religion appears to have taken
a strong hold upon the minds of the peo-
ple. It is particularly gratifying to a visit-
or, who, from the fame attached to some
of her sceptical writers, might be led to
suppose that infidelity had struck a deep
root in that country, to see how little im-
pression has been made by the boasted
philosophy of Hume and his disciples. The
attempt to undermine appears to have
strengthened the building, by reanimating
the zeal of its defenders, so that the wea-
pons designed for annoyance, have been
successfully turned against the presumptu-
ous invader. Metaphysical arguments are
indeed too refined for the level of common
understandings, and the vulgar impudence
of Paine and his followers, has done a
thousand times more mischief among the
people than Hume or Bolingbroke. But
it is by such writers that the seed is plant
ed, though coarser hands have been em-
ployed in nourishing the tree and produ-
cing the fruit. The most charitable con-
struction their intentions will admit, and
it is stretching charity very far to concede
it, is, that they thought themselves writing
for a few contemplative readers only, not
for general effect; that they were com-
pounding some chemical ingredients in the
private laboratory, not mixing poison to be
administered to the crowd. Certain it is,
that the places of worship in Edinburgh
and Glasgow, do infinite credit to both
those great cities. They are amply sup-
plied with diligent, zealous, and able mi-
nisters, and most numerously attended by
devout auditors. We passed a Sunday in
Edinburgh, and it was truly delightful to
behold the numbers of well-dressed people
collected to offer up prayer and praise in
Christian assemblage, and the interest which
all appeared to take in the due performance
of religious duty. Gracious heaven! is it
possible that any person possessing a head
to think, and a heart to feel, can cherish
even a momentary wish to blast so fair a
harvest, though he may unfortunately dis-
claim the hope of profiting by its fruits?

Could such a state as we witnessed, have been that of the Caledonian metropolis in the days of David Hume? Could a man endowed even with a small portion of those amiable dispositions which he is said to have possessed, deliberately apply himself to poison the fountain of living waters, to substitute the ever-during darkness of the grave for the animating prospect of a glorious resurrection to life eternal, to dash the cup of comfort from the lip of suffering mortality, and to rob man of those brilliant hopes which ennoble his nature, and exalt the human character to divine ?

"Has he not thereby realized, in a second edition, what he affected to regard as fabulous in a first, the serpent stealing into paradise lise to blast the happiness he was incapable of enjoying himself? The religious zeal which seeks to make proselytes to what it deems a better creed, is natural, praiseworthy, and only reprehensible when carried to excess; but to annihilate all creeds to aim at eradicating those universal feelings, which, when well directed, are the pride and happiness of man-to destroy a vast and splendid fabric, affording shelter and enjoyment to millions, and to replace it with the dreary dungeon of everlasting death, if it be philosophy, is not the philosophy of a man, but of a fiend. Had Hume's life been prolonged to the present day-had he lived to behold the precious effects of his own and his associates' labours in the cause of infidelity-had he lived to see his theory committed to the test of experiment had he lived to see the disciples and countrymen of his friend Voltaire sacrificing religion at the altar of obscenity-and had he lived to witness all the horrors, miseries, cruelties, and abominations, resulting from the rejection of Christianity, he would have cursed the wretched vanity which so wantonly led him to lend the aid of an acute mind to the subversion of those principles on which our welfare both here and hereafter absolutely and inseparably depends. No system of discipline, however pure in itself, is exempt from error and mismanagement in the hands of so imperfect a creature as man. Human passions and infirmities will mix their alloy with the sterling ore. Seeing much of which it could not approve, the arrogance of soi-disant philosophy took the short way to conclusion by denying the whole. Were those celebrated patrons of infidelity now living, I think their greatest consolation would be in the futility of their labours, in the reflection that they have been, not indeed the innocent, but the actual instruments of shewing the necessity of religion, and of reinforcing the zeal, and increasing the piety of its professors. The remnant of infidelity that lurks behind, though still dangerous, is becoming daily more despicable. Society cannot subsist without religion. On the activity and diligence of its legitimate ministers every thing depends. The due performance of their duty is of the first importance to the welfare of the state. Acting as they ought, they will never want attentive and obedient auditors, acting as they ought, they may defy the malice of every enemy, secure under the wings of a heavenly Protector, who never will forsake his faithful servants. To add one word more. To reject revelation is to deny religion they must stand or fall together, for if there has been no revelation, there is no religion. Religion implies laws; and laws, implying a power to enact, and a power to enforce, must

emanate from knoren and acknowledged

authority. But simple nature lays down no such laws, exhibits no such authority. If therefore no divine commission has been

issued, no religious law has been given, and, consequently, no obligation to obey can exist. There may be those with whom this notion unfortunately weighs. I cannot conceive a state of more deplorable wretch

edness than that of a rational mind sunk to so brutal a level. But I trust they are rare, and that the great majority will ever rejoice in the persuasion that they are accountable beings, and that God has not left his rational creatures without a law for their direction, without the salutary restraints, the cheering consolations, and the glorious prospects of religion."

To this we need not add a word. Wepart with Mr Townsend, regretting only the shortness of his pamphlet. We should be happy to see his pen employed more at length on the affairs of his country, with which, in all its relations, he is so intimately acquaintacquaint

ed.

He would bring to the task great knowledge, and a manly understanding, free from the vices of faction and the sins of bombast, in which it is the misfortune of Ireland to have almost every thing concerning her enveloped.

THOUGHTS ON LETTER-WRITING.

EPISTOLARY as well as personal intercourse, is, according to the mode in which it is carried on, one of the pleasantest or most irksome things in the world. It is delightful to drop in on a friend without the solemn prelude of invitation and acceptance to join a social circle, where we may suffer our minds - and hearts to relax and expand in the happy consciousness of perfect security from invidious remark and carping criticism; where we may give the reins to the sportiveness of innocent fancy, or the enthusiasm of warmhearted feeling; where we may talk sense or nonsense, (I pity people who cannot talk nonsense,) without fear of being looked into icicles by the coldness of unimaginative people, living pieces of clock-work, who dare not - themselves utter a word, or lift up a little finger, without first weighing the important point, in the hair balance of propriety and good breeding. It is equally delightful to let the pen talk freely, and unpremeditatedly, and to one by whom we are sure of being understood; but a formal letter, like a ceremonious morning visit, is tedious alike to the writer and receiver-for the most part spun out with unmeaning phrases, trite observations, complimentary flourishes, and protestations of respect and attachment, so far not deceitful, as they never deceive any body. Oh the misery of having to compose a set, proper, well worded, correctly pointed, polite, elegant epis

tle!-one that must have a beginning, a middle, and an end, as methodically arranged and portioned out as the several parts of a sermon under three heads, or the three gradations of shade in a school-girl's first landscape! For my part, I would rather be set to beat hemp, or weed in a turnip field, than to write such a letter exactly every month, or every fortnight, at the precise point of time from the date of our correspondent's last letter, that he or she wrote after the reception of ours-as if one's thoughts bubbled up to the well-head, at regular periods, a pint at a time, to be bottled off for immediate use. Thought! what has thought to do in such a correspondence? It murders thought, quenches fancy, wastes time, spoils paper, wears out innocent goose-quills-"I'd_rather be a kitten, and cry mew! than one of those same" prosing lettermongers. Surely in this age of invention something may be struck out to obviate the necessity (if such necessity exists) of so tasking, degrading the human intellect. Why should not a sort of mute barrel-organ be constructed on the plan of those that play sets of tunes and country dances, to indite a catalogue of polite epistles calculated for all the ceremonious observances of good-breeding? Oh, the unspeakable relief (could such machine be invented) of having only to grind an answer to one of one's "dear five

a

hundred friends!" Or, suppose there

were to be an epistolary steam-engine -Ay, that's the thing-Steam does every thing now-a-days. Dear Mr Brunel, set about it, I beseech you, and achieve the most glorious of your undertakings. The block machine at Portsmouth would be nothing to itThat spares manual labour-this would relieve mental drudgery, and thousands yet unborn

But

hold! I am not so sure that the female sex in general may quite enter into my views of the subject. Those who pique themselves on excelling in "l'eloquence du billét," or those fair scribblerinas just emancipated from boarding-school restraints, or the dragonism of their governesses, just beginning to taste the refined enjoyments of sentimental, confidential, soul-breathing correspondence with some Angelina, Seraphina, or Laura Matilda; to indite beautiful little notes, with long-tailed letters, upon vellum paper with pink margins, sealed with sweet mottos, and dainty devices-"Je ne change qu'en mourant"-"Forget me not," or Cupid with a rose, "L'une seule me suffit"-the whole deliciously perfumed with musk and attar of roses Young ladies who collect "copies of verses," and charades-keep albums -copy patterns-make bread sealswork little dogs upon footstools, and paint flowers without shadow-Oh! no-the epistolary steam-engine will never come into vogue with those dear creatures-They must enjoy the "feast of reason, and the flow of soul," and they must write-Ye Gods! how they do write!-But for another genus of female scribes-Unhappy innocents! who groan in spirit at the dire necessity of having to hammer out one of those aforesaid terrible epistles-who having in due form dated the giltedged sheet that lies outspread before them in appalling whiteness-having also felicitously achieved the graceful exordium, "My dear Mrs P." or "My dear Lady V." or "My dear any thing else,” feel that they a are in for it, and must say something-Oh, that something that must come of nothing! those bricks that must be made without straw! those pages that must be filled with words! Yea, with words that must be sewed into sentences! Yea, with sentences that must seem to mean something; the whole to be tacked together, all neatly fitted and dove-tailed, so as to form one smooth

polished surface! What were the labours of Hercules to such a task! The very thought of it puts me into a mental perspiration; and, from my inmost soul, I compassionate the unfortunates now (at this very moment, perhaps,) screwed up perpendicular in the seat of torture, having in the right hand a fresh-nibbed patent pen, dipped ever and anon into the ink bottle, as if to hook up ideas, and under the outspread palm of the left hand a fair sheet of best Bath post, (ready to receive thoughts yet unhatched) on which their eyes are rivetted with a stare of disconsolate perplexity, infinitely touching to a feeling mind. To such unhappy persons, in whose miseries I deeply sympathise Have I not groaned under similar horrors, from the hour when I was first shut up (under lock and key, I believe) to indite a dutiful epistle to an honoured aunt? I remember as if it were yesterday, the moment when she who had enjoined the task entered to inspect the performance, which, by her calculation, should have been fully completed-I remember how sheepishly I hung down my head, when she snatched from before me the paper, (on which I had made no further progress than "My dear ant,") angrily exclaiming, "What, child! have you been shut up here three hours to call your aunt a pismire?" From that hour of humiliation I have too often groaned under the endurance of similar penance, and I have learnt from my own sufferings to compassionate those of my dear sisters in affliction. To such unhappy persons, then, I would fain offer a few hints, (the fruit of long experience,) which, if they have not already been suggested by their own observation, may prove serviceable in the hour of emergency.

Let them or suppose I address myself to one particular sufferer-there is something more confidential in that manner of communicating one's ideas-As Moore says, "Heart speaks to heart"-I say, then, take always special care to write by candlelight, for not only is the apparently unimportant operation of snuffing the candle in itself a momentary relief to the depressing consciousness of mental vacuum, but not unfrequently that trifling act, or the brightning flame of the taper, elicits, as it were, from the dull embers of fancy, a sympathetic spark of fortunate conception-When such a one occurs, seize it quickly and dexterously, but, at the same time, with such cautious prudence, as not to huddle up and contract in one short, paltry sentence, that which, if inge- ingeniously handled, may be wire-drawn, so as to undulate gracefully and smoothly over a whole page.

For the more ready practice of this invaluable art of dilating, it will be expedient to stock your memory with a large assortment of those precious words of many syllables, that fill whole lines at once; " incomprehensibly, amazingly, decidedly, solicitously, inconceivably, incontrovertibly.' An opportunity of using these, is, to a distressed spinner, as delightful as a copy all m's and n's to a child. "Comnand you may, your mind from play." They run on with such delicious smoothness!

"

I have known a judicious selection of such, cunningly arranged, and neatly linked together, with a few monosyllables, interjections, and well chosen epithets (which may be liberally inserted with good general effect) so worked up, as to form altogether a very respectable and even elegant composition, such as amongst the best judges of that peculiar style is pronounced to be "a charming letter!" Then the pause-the break-has altogether a picturesque effect. Long tailed letters are not only beautiful in themselves, but the use of them necessarily creates such a space between the lines, as helps one honourably and expeditiously over the ground to be filled up. The tails of your g's and y's in particular, may be boldly flourished with a "down-sweeping" curve, so as beautifully to obscure the line underneath, without rendering it wholly illegible. This last, however, is but a minor grace, a mere illumination of the manuscript, on which I have touched rather by accident than design. I pass on to remarks of greater moment.

My dear Lady DWith feelings of the most inexpressibly affectionate interest, I take up my pen to congratulate you on the marriage of your lovely and accomplished Alethea.

To you who know every thought of my heart, it is almost unnecessary to say, that, next to the maternal tender

There is another expedient of infinite efficacy, but requiring to be employed with such nice tact, that none but an experienced spinner should venture on the practice of it. You may continue, by the help of a little alteration, amplification, and transposition of the precise terms, to amuse your correspondent with a recapitulation of the very matter that formed the groundwork of his, or her last epistle to yourself. Should he detect you in this retort (against which the chances are equal) he will be restrained by good breeding from making any observations to yourself on the subject, and in fact he will (if a candid and reasonable person) find no just cause of complaint against you, for refreshing his memory, and thus impressing more indelibly on his mind a subject he had conceived of sufficient importance to be imparted to you. Again-you need not fear that he shall turn your own arms against you-their loading is spent in your retort, so that it will still be his business to furnish fresh matter, every thing (you perceive) in this game depending on the first throw.

This species of manœuvre, as I before observed, should by no means be rashly ventured, but it is an art well worth the trouble of acquiring, at the expense of some pains and study, one (in which you are so fortunate as to become a proficient) that will relieve you from all further anxiety, furnishing you (at the expense of your correspondents) with ample materials for your own epistolary compositions. As to the strict honesty of this proceeding, no conscience need, I think, be so squeamish as to hesitate on the subject, for, in fact, what has conscience to do with the style of correspondence now under consideration? well if a fine lady's letter were oftener made up of such innocent ingredients, for (generally speaking) would not the abstract of such a one fairly translated run thus?

You tiresome old toad:

It were

You've manœuvred off one of your gawky frights at last, and I must say something on the occasion.

How the deuce! did you contrive to hook in that noodle of a lord, when I've been spreading my nets ever since

ness, with which I watch over my own girls, I feel the most anxious solicitude in every thing that relates to your charming family.

That sweet love Alethea has always, you know, been my peculiar favourite, and tears of the sweetest exultation swell into my eyes, when I think of the brilliant establishment you have secured for her.

Our long friendship, my beloved friend, and my maternal affection for the dear creature, are pleas which I shall urge in claiming the delightful office of presenting her at the next drawing-room.

he came of age, to catch him for my eldest girl?

That pert minx Alethea has always been my particular aversion, and I am ready to cry with spite, at the idea of her being a countess.

As you can't hobble to court on your crutches, I shall be expected to present her ladyship, and I must do it, though I know I shall expire with vexation at the sight of the V. diamonds in her odious red hair.

Soon, very soon, my dearest friend, may I have to congratulate you on some equally advantageous establish-thing Anna Maria, and you know well ment for your sweet delicate Anna Maria.

I earnestly hope that foolish story (which you of course have heard)about Lord V.'s keeping a lady at Paris, and having lost L.20,000 at the Salon, at one sitting, will not reach the ear of our sweet sensitive girl. But people are so malicious!

Where are your two lovely boys? Dear fellows! we have not seen them since they left Eton, and you know how I delight in their charming spirits.

&c. &c. &c. &c. &c.

And remains ever,
With the most inviolable attachment,
My dearest Lady D.'s

Most sincerely affectionate
Friend,
M. G.

One comfort is you'll never be able to get off that little humph-backed enough there is no hope of it, so hate to be talked to about her.

You won't care much about it, even if it was true, but I can think of nothing else to plague the old cat. I'll take care the young one shall know it somehow.

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FEBRUARY.

Он! how delightful to the soul of man,
Through the drear winter-tide oppress'd with gloom!
How like a renovating spirit comes,

Fanning his cheek, the breath of infant Spring!
Morning awakens in the orient sky
With purpler light, beneath a canopy

Of lovely clouds, their edges tipp'd with gold;
And from his palace, like a Deity,
Darting his lustrous eye from pole to pole,
The glorious Sun comes forth, the vernal sk sky
To walk rejoicing. To the bitter north
Retire wild Winter's forces, cruel winds,-
And griping frosts, and magazines of snow,
And deluging tempests. O'er the moisten'd fields
A tender green is spread; the bladed grass
Shoots forth exuberant; th' awakening trees,
Thaw'd by the delicate atmosphere, put forth
Expanding buds; while, with mellifluous throat,
The warm ebullience of internal joy,

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