convinced of the prevalence of these misfortunes in this country, that in one of his Letters to D'Alembert, he exultingly exclaims :- Nous avons pour nous Toute L'Angleterre.”

66

In regard of Sects, and the Confusion of Religions,-certain it is, that, in no nation of the universe, do there prevail half so many, as there do in this country; whence, also, it is proverbially called by the French,— "Le pays des Sectes." And then, too, these sects prevail in every shape, and shade, of error, from the absurdities of fanaticism, to the impieties of irreligion. Edwards, in his Gangræana, cited by Dr. Gray, once reckoned up a hundred and seventy-six heretical, and blasphemous, opinions, maintained in this country, in the course of four years." In fact, so numberless, and various, are the sects, and religions, of this country,-forming an immense circle of absurdity, and error, that I defy any learning to count them up. Just like the Shades of Virgil, they have pressed, and still press upon each other, at the gates of Oblivion,—“ Huc omnis turba effusa ruebat ;”—et ruit.

As a proof altogether of the Fanaticism, Superstition, Ignorance, Credulity, &c., which prevail in this country, I might cite the fact, which, but yesterday, came,-not, perhaps, to excite the wonder of those, who know the general state of its society, but, to give pain to the pious, and well instructed.-A madman, calling himself Sir William Courtenay, announced himself the Saviour of the world; the Messiah, invested with a divine mission ;-Jesus Christ Himself, who had been crucified upon the cross. And in order to make this latter pretext the more credible, he made certain punctures, or appearances of punctures, in his hands, and side, as the wounds, inflicted, on the occasion of his Passion. He, moreover, besides all this, represented himself, as invulnerable,— or that, if he were shot, he should shortly revive again.

Now, profane, and absurd, as all this was,-yet, it was all firmly, and piously, believed. The man's blasphemies were revered, as so many heavenly truths;-his pretended invulnerability, as an undoubted miracle ;—and his promised resuscitation, as a positive fact. Neither did this infatuation cease, even when the wretched fanatic was killed. For, (I quote the account, as given in the St. James's Chronicle, at the time) "his blouse, or smock-frock, stained with blood, was torn up, with pious ardour, by the thousands of his admirers, who crowded to see his body. His hair, and beard, also, were eagerly seized, and placed in the hands of the Canterbury jewellers to fashion them into brooches, &c. Two oak trees, which stand adjacent to the spot, in which he fell, were stripped of their bark, for relics. Even the blood-stained earth, in the several spots, where he, and his followers, fell, has been scraped up, and carried off as sacred mementoes."

If the profaneness, and folly, of all this had been confined to a few ignorant, and deluded, fanatics, the thing might not excite much wonder. But, we here see, as the Journalist states, that they pervaded, and infected, thousands;—and of course, a considerable number of individuals, whose circumstances, and situation, in life were respectable, and decent. This, indeed, is admitted.

Such, then, even in this enlightened nation, as it is called ;-such, in a county, which Shakespeare once called " the civilest in our isle;" such, under the very shade of Canterbury's hallowed towers, and within the atmosphere of two illustrious Bishoprics, where piety,—if any where,―ought to reign, and instruction flourish,—such, even under all these favourable circumstances, is the state of the public mind,—at all events, among the vulgar,-on the subject of religion. In no nation, I am convinced, would our travellers meet, any where, with instances of ignorance, fanaticism, and folly, parallel, or similar, to the above.

But, in fact, to show the ignorance, and fanaticism, of the English people, I might have appealed to instances, and these, too, very recent ones,—perhaps, even more astonishing than the above. Such, for example, was the case of Johanna Southcote, whose miraculous conception; heavenly parturition, and divine resuscitation, were piously believed, not only by thousands of the vulgar, but even by many of the best instructed,-nay, even by certain Clergymen of the Established Church. Such, again, but yesterday, was the case of the raving Irving, and his Angels. The howlings of the former, and the Unknown Tongues of the latter, were listened to, and revered, as the voice of God, and the dictates of the will of heaven,—and this, again, by multitudes of the well instructed. Even the Mountebank ravings, which are now so constantly taking place in Exeter Hall, are specimens of fanaticism, ignorance, bigotry, and superstition, such as no where can, now, be found, but in this enlightened nation.

Wherefore, having thus stated a few of the many disorders, which prevail in this country, I will simply here remark, that, if our Travellers did not, like the Lamian Witches, put their eyes into their shoes, they might find as much to condemn, and ridicule, "at home," as they do, when "from home," to reprobate, and vilify.

THE FOURTH LETTER.

MONSIEUR LE COMTE,

In the natural sciences, there is always question of mean quantities. Thus, we speak of the mean distance, the mean movement, the mean duration, &c. It would be well, if this same notion were applied, also, to politics; and that men would feel, and be convinced, that the best institutions are not those, which present the greatest degree of possible happiness, at such, or such, a given period,-but, those, which ensure the greatest sum, or measure, of possible happiness to the greatest number of possible generations! This, and I think the point quite evident, -is mean happiness.

Upon this principle, I should be curious, and should like to know, what the bitterest enemy of the Inquisition would reply to the Spaniard, who,-passing over what I have just said,— should undertake to defend it, in terms, like the following.

"Sir," he says to the supposed accuser, "you are Myops,you are short-sighted; and see but a single object. Our legislators looked down from an eminence; and saw the great whole. At the opening of the sixteenth century, they beheld Europe, as it were, in flames. In order to secure themselves from the general conflagration, they employed the Inquisition,—which is the political instrument they made use of, both to preserve the unity of faith, and to prevent the wars of religion. You have done nothing like this. But, now trace, and remark, the result. I appeal but to experience: for, experience is the best criterion to direct men's judgment.

"Behold, then, the thirty years' war, enkindled by the doctrines of Luther. Look at the unheard-of excesses of the Anabaptists; the civil wars of France, of England, and of Holland. Consider the massacres of the St. Bartholomew; of Merindal;

and the Cevennes ;-the murder of Queen Mary Stuart;-that of Henry the Third; of Henry the Fourth; of Charles the First; of the Prince of Orange, &c. A ship might float in the ocean of blood, which your innovators have shed. The Inquisition would have punished only these disturbers of the public peace, and order. It ill becomes you, ignorant, and presumptuous, as you are,—you who had foreseen nothing, and have deluged Europe in blood,―it ill becomes you to blame our Monarchs, who had foreseen every thing; and secured their kingdom from devastation. Don't tell me, that the Inquisition has produced such and such abuses, at such and such a time. This is not the question. The question is, to know, whether, during the last three centuries, there has been, by virtue of the Inquisition, a greater enjoyment of peace, and happiness, in Spain, than in . the other nations of Europe? To sacrifice present generations to the problematic happiness of future generations, this may be the calculation of a philosopher, but, it is not that of an enlightened legislator.

"But, if this observation do not suffice to convince you, I will, then, appeal to what we have witnessed during the late conflicts with the gigantic power of France, wielded by the greatest of all modern conquerors, and heroes. It was the Inquisition, which then,- far beyond any other instrument, saved Spain, and immortalised it. It preserved, and kept alive, that public spirit, that faith, that religious patriotism, which produced those wonders, which we have all witnessed; and which, it may be, by saving Spain, saved Europe itself from tyranny, and oppression. From the summits of the Pyrennees, the Inquisition frightened away that profane philosophism, which had, it is true, its good reasons for hating the Institution. Its eye was always open, watching the dangerous works, which, like so many dreadful avalanches, fell down from the mountains. And although, unhappily, too many of these poisonous instruments did escape its vigilance; and serve to seduce, and corrupt, a considerable number of individuals,-still, the great body of the people remained faithful, and unimpaired. It was the Inquisition alone, that could restore,-and that actually, far beyond any other aid, did restore, (such was the noble ardour, which it inspired),-the Monarch to his throne."

For my part, I do not see, what reasonable reply could well be made to these striking observations. What here, however, is extraordinary; and I believe, very little known,—is the complete apology for the Inquisition, made by Voltaire himself; and which I will lay before you, as a remarkable monument of that good sense, which sees, and admits, facts; and at the same time, of that prejudice, which is blind to their causes.

"During the sixteenth, and the seventeenth, centuries,” says Voltaire, "there were not, in Spain, any of those sanguinary revolutions; of those conspiracies; of those cruelties, which were so common in the other nations of Europe. Neither the Duke of Lerma, nor the Count Olivarès, ever shed the blood of their enemies upon the scaffold. Kings were never assassinated there; neither did any of them perish there, as they did in England, by the hand of the executioner. In short, were it not for the horrors of the Inquisition, there was nothing then, wherewith Spain could be reproached.”

No blindness, surely, can be well greater than this. Without the "horrors" of the Inquisition, there would be no room to cast any reproach upon Spain,-which, only by the power, and influences, of the Inquisition, escaped those horrors, which disgraced every other nation! Thus,—and I rejoice at the circumstance, thus does genius chastise itself,-condemned to descend to the lowest absurdity, even to the most pitiful nonsense,-as a just punishment for having prostituted itself to the defence of error. I am less gratified with the natural superiority of men's talents, than with their nullity, whenever they forget their proper destination.

After witnessing all the horrors, which have disgraced, and afflicted, Europe,-how, or with what face, can men reproach Spain for having possessed an institution, which would effectually have prevented them all? The Holy Office, with but sixty sentences, or trials, in a century, would have saved us the frightful spectacle of those heaps of human bodies,-mountainhigh as the Alps; and sufficient to stop the course of the Rhine, and the Po. But, of all Europeans, the French,-considering the calamities, which they have brought upon the world; and the still more dreadful evils, which they brought upon themselves, the French are, beyond all dispute, the most un