We need only change the phrases current among the populace, and substitute one set of emblematic embellishments for another, and then the horrid scenes of the French revolutionary civil war are repetitions, on a larger scale, of those exterminating frenzies that so often have desolated the fair provinces of that country. A super-human spectator of terrene affairs-ignorant of the dialect, and of the circumstantials, would quite have failed to distinguish the bloodshed and devastations of one era from those of another; and far from suspecting that the truculent savages of the Revolution were the disciples of philosophers, might have deemed them only superstitious friars, and templars, of a new and more intolerant order.

The authors of this confusion discerned, just in time, the jeopardy into which they had led the country-they hastily retraced their steps, and so mankind lost the benefit of the spectacle which must soon have been witnessed if the Intolerance of Impiety had been left to run its round. Leave was given to the Maker and Ruler of the Universe to resume his place in the fears-though not in the affections of the people; for it had been found that without the stay of religion the social machine could not safely perform its movements. The public heralds therefore proclaimed anew the Eternal; and leave was granted, to the credulous at least, to expect a future life, and to fear retribution.

The lesson perhaps may long serve the European nations, and no second attempt be made of a like kind. Yet what has once happened must no longer be spoken of as utterly beyond probability. This assuredly ought to be confessed, on the ground now of actual experiment, that if in any instance the ordinary or common and sensual impiety of the mass of mankind comes to be quickened by a stirring spirit of disbelief-if the irreligion which hitherto has been sluggish or frivolous, kindles into a petulant bigotry, and utters itself in acrid blasphemies; and especially, if the same atheistic zeal lurks in the bosoms of the upper classes, and ferments at the centre of government-then little will be wanted to put these forces in movement, or to direct them against the institutions and the parties that uphold the worship of God. A slight and accidental political excitement would be enough to bring on the crisis. Whenever-if ever-such a train of events shall in any country have room, it will be seen that, if Popery be a bad instigator of the malignant passions of a people, Atheism is a worse; and that the fanaticism of impiety should be dreaded even more than that of superstition.

The history of modern Europe, and of our own country especially, would have afforded many, and striking examples of that order of Fanaticism which brings the military and re

ligious sentiments into combination. The instances are present to the recollection of every reader. And beside that a universal enumeration could subserve no important purpose, and would fill volumes, some of these cases are of that ambiguous and perplexing kind, which a writer may well desire to evade, rather than meet the dilemma of either giving a sanction to what it would be unsafe to approve; or of sternly condemning what we ought not to think ourselves competent to adjudge as altogether immoral. Moreover, other cases of this order involve the political and religious prejudices of existing parties; and are not to be spoken of without kindling the embers of faction. To call the originator of this or that body-a fanatic, would be, according to the interpretation of some, to become the champion of the opposite system of opinions. Or to brand with the same epithet the leaders on both sides, would be to wound (and still more deeply) the fond predilections of all. There are pages of our British history-English, Scottish, and Irish, which will need to be written anew, when our religious factions shall have come to their end.

SECTION VIII

FANATICISM OF THE SYMBOL.

THE arduous part of our subject now meets In reviewing those phases of error which have long ago passed away, we occupy a vantage ground, and may at leisure measure the proportions of the distant object. But every circumstance of the inquiry is of another sort when it is the extant form of religion which comes to be examined, and when what we should calmly and impartially speak of, are practices, opinions, and modes of feeling, regarded as excellent, or leniently dealt with as venial, by our contemporaries—our friendsour coadjutors-ourselves.

It were an arrogance in any man to assume that he can exercise an absolutely impartial judgment concerning the things of his own age. No human mind has ever reached such serene elevation. If the characteristic and prevailing errors of the day have been discerned by here

and there an individual, himself has not escaped that depressing influence which attends a longcontinued and anxious meditation of objects that show a frowning face to whoever refuses them his homage. Conscious then of a disadvantage not to be avoided, and careful to maintain that modesty which the knowledge of it should engender, we may yet advance, enheartened by the anticipation of an era, perhaps not very remote, when the Religion of the Scriptures, having at length passed through the cycle of its degradations, shall, without any more hinderance, bless the human family.

In contemplating the errors of past ages, no point more important presents itself, nothing which should so fix our attention as the fact that certain extravagant modes of feeling, or certain pernicious practices-the offspring of an active and virulent fanaticism, have, after a while, subsided into a fixed and tranquil form, such as has allowed them to win the approval and to secure the support of the calmest and most enlightened minds; and so to be transmitted through successive ages-accredited, unquestioned, admired. The turbulent stage of fanaticism would do the church little harm if it were not succeeded by a tame and moderate fanaticism seemingly wise and temperate.The parent in these instances is an ephemeron; but the progeny has had a longer term than that of the phoenix.-The rugged surface of our