and overbearing power? While that constitution remains, while the fabric of our mixed monarchy stands, neither ministerial violence nor deception can produce more than partial and transitory evils. While this is the case, the people will always have sufficient power, to throw down all oppression, and all the means and the movers of it; this we have experienced in every period of our history. But, if the constitution be once done away, if we throw off the sacred armor of our ancestors, (blessed and consecrated by them at the altar of freedom) as an incumbrance in the pursuit of the novelties of the day, we shall then indeed be shorn of our strength, and the spirit having departed from us, become the easy slaves of any set of men, though they may neither have the courage to employ violence, nor the ability to practise deceit. A profound maxim, of one of the profoundest of Queen Elizabeth's ministers, that " England could never be ruined, except by her Parliament," leads me at once to the only hope there is, for present safety. The people hold in their own hands the means of their own preservation. According as these means are employed at the next election, will be the measure of their destiny. It is not now a question of reform. The reform bill is part and parcel of the law of the land. It is an incorporated element of the constitution. Nobody dreams of its ceasing to be so. The Duke of WELLINGTON, or Sir ROBERT PEEL, Would be fitter for Bedlam than the Cabinet, if either of them could commit the portentous blunder, of supposing the country can be governed upon any system which does not recognise, as its fundamental principle, the necessity of securing all the good, for the attainment of which the reform bill was framed, brought forward, and enacted. Do not, therefore, suffer yourselves to be deluded by the sheer lying of the radicals, when they tell you, as they do, with incomparable impudence, that if a conservative government stands, reform must fall. Do not delude yourselves with the vain hope, that if such a conservative government as the present juncture demands, should fall, any other one can stand; or that any other one can supply its place, which will not at once precipitate you into revolution. A very little reflexion will suffice to shew you, that this is the only choice you have. A very little reflexion, too, may teach you, what is to be expected from yielding concessions prefaced by an invasion of rights; and that so far from granting them, not on account of their justice, but of the turbulence and bullying of those by whom they are demanded, the menace should rather be considered as an obstacle to even reasonable concessions, lest every surrender to unenlightened and overbearing power, might but encourage further encroachments. Ireland is an instructive illustration of this: Ireland, which is rapidly approaching a state amounting to the dissolution of all government, by reducing one portion of the people to self defence, because of the denial of that protection which is the correlative of allegiance. Catholic emancipation was demanded for Ireland, upon the same plea as reform was demanded for England; the plea that it would heal all discords, silence all complaint, allay every irritation, and cement the union of hostile parties. It was granted. Look at Ireland now. Never were the calculations of one class of statesmen, or the predictions of another, more signally falsified on the one hand, and accomplished on the other, than by the results of that measure. Instead of Catholic emancipation, it was a Catholic triumph; and it has been used in the true spirit of Catholic encroachment; as a means to an end; that end, the ascendancy of the Catholic faith. The political power then obtained was sought as the indispensable preliminary to religious power; and scarcely was the former in a condition to be wielded, ere it was applied to resuscitate the latter. The abolition of tithes, the persecution of the protestant clergy, the dismemberment of the Irish Church, and the prohibition of the Bible in every system of national education, followed in rapid succession; and now, the repeal of the Union, (in other words, the separation of the two countries), and a parliament sitting in Dublin, (the majority of members returned to which would necessarily be Catholics), are demanded by the same men, using the same means, the same language, (and, of course, the same professions of loyalty, with the same assurances of being peaceable and contented afterwards) as were employed to obtain Catholic emancipation, the abolition of tithes, the dismemberment of the church, and the exclusion of the Bible. The consequences of Catholic Emancipation in Ireland, of the Reform Bill in England, both of them intended to be final measures, are as beacons to light us on our path. If we are not prepared to give up all, a stand must be made for what remains. If we resolve to make the stand, it must be now. Events shape resolves. Reformers themselves (those reformers who limited their views to the remedy of what they considered defects) must see that their ground has shifted from them. They must see, that while they are seeking to demolish only what displeases them, a crafty enemy will come and demolish what displeases him. It will then be, at best, but a war between reformers; and the only chance the country will have for salvation will be, that they should both perish together. It will be said, perhaps, that because bad men are seeking reform, good men should seek it likewise. Undoubtedly, the more that seek, the more chance there is of finding; and it is certain, that the bad have great occasion both to seek and find. If they would reform themselves, instead of the Constitution, it would be better for all of us. At the same time, it must be confessed, it is no great recommendation of the object, that the bad are eager to obtain it, and set the example of the search. However, as wild schemes of change are abroad, it will be well for those who do not participate in them, to take a securitiy against the enemies of the Constitution in the whole, before they proceed to amend it in parts. When they have discountenanced and driven away, the promoters of revolutionary designs and their mischievous opinions, then it will come to be a fair and safe question with themselves upon the merits of the changes they propose, and the meliorations they desire to introduce. Till then, till this dangerous faction is rooted out of the country, they should be cautious how they begin operations which give openings to a watchful and determined foe. Supposing their reformations were really to be the beginning of that golden age, about which the sweet singers of democracy are incessantly tuning their harps, supposing the perfection of man to be positively at hand, and that the millennium will commence immediately upon the completion of their labours; nevertheless, they must take care that their glorious toils be not rendered abortive, or their grand schemes, from instruments of good, be turned into engines of evil. Satan is bound hand and foot, before the reign of the saints begins. I am addressing myself, now, to that large body of intelligent and influential reformers who, being men of property, of education, and of character, can have nothing in common with the radical, though, from the peculiarity of the times, they are unable wholly to shake him off. Such men, in becoming the repairers of our Constitution should work by line and plummet, and not according to the childish vagaries of infantile policy. Love to the Constitution should prevent them from scrutinising too narrowly its defects. When schemes of reform have their basis in large, upright, and sober intentions, they always announce themselves by a firm moderation, by a fearfulness to take away, which might be called cowardice, did not courage appear blended with reverence: but above all, by giving no inlet to the declared enemies of the Constitution. He who acts otherwise, makes a common cause with the adversary. 66 a Burke was a reformer of this stamp. He desired, and sought, real improvements. But because he did so, he dreaded the schemes of rash and vulgar minds. "A state," says he, "without the means of some change, is without the means of its conservation. Without such means, it might even risk the loss of that part of the constitution which it wished most religiously to preserve." Again: disposition to preserve, and an ability to improve, taken together, would be my standard of a statesman." In the same spirit he remarks, on another occasion, “I would not exclude alteration neither, but even when I changed, it should be to preserve. I should be led to my remedy by a great grievance. In what I did, I should follow the example of our ancestors. I would make the reparation as nearly as possible in the style of the building." Are we to carry out the principle of the constitutional mode? I fervently hope so. must depend entirely upon the men who are Reform Bill in this wise, safe, and To exchange that hope for certainty, returned to the next Parliament. With No. VII. of the CANTERBURY MAGAZINE, which will be published on the 1st of January, will be given an extra half-sheet, containing the title page, preface, index, and table of contents to the first volume. Printed for the Proprietors of the Kentish Observer, at their Office (by C. W. Banks,) 20, St. George's Street, Canterbury. THE CANTERBURY MAGAZINE: By Geoffrey Oldcastle, Gent. "AT THAT TRIBUNAL STANDS THE WRITING TRIBE, TIME IS THE JUDGE: TIME HAS NOR FRIEND NOR FOE FOR IF I FALL, BY MY OWN PEN I DIE." YOUNG. No. 7.] JANUARY, 1835. THE DEATH-BED OF INFIDELS. [VOL. II. "Horrible is the end of the unrighteous generation." The force of example over precept, is allowed by every moralist. The ancient Lacedæmonians, to inspire their children with an abhorrence of the vice of drunkenness, compelled their slaves, at their solemn festivals, to drink wine till they were intoxicated, and in that state exhibited them before the youth of Sparta, that they might see what a brutish animal man is, when he drowns his reason in liquor. A thousand homilies upon drunkenness would not convey so impressive an admonition as such an image. The drama, which is a mimic representation of real life, becomes, when employed to its legitimate and noblest ends, a monitor of the same kind. There are recorded and well authenticated instances of its influence both in reclaiming from vice, and giving increased confidence to virtue. Shakspeare, who was not ignorant of this, (of what, indeed, was he ignorant?) has thrown into Hamlet's soliloquy, after he has determined to have the murder of Gonzago acted, "wherein to catch the conscience of the King," these reflexions:"I have heard, That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, The present age, if not entitled to the melancholy distinction of exceeding any former one in impiety and infidelity, has certainly never been exceeded. Let us not be misunderstood. We do not say that the great body of the community is less religious now, than it was, fifty, or a hundred years ago. On the contrary, we are convinced that religion has increased within that period, and that this country, considered as a whole, is a much more religious country than it was at the beginning, or in the middle, of the last century, It, is nevertheless, a lamentable truth, that neither in the last VOL. II. A 1 century, nor in the century preceding it, nor at any time, since Christianity was first established in this realm, can there be produced evidence of so much blasphemy, impiety, and infidelity, of such a systematic mockery of all that religion teaches, as is now daily presented to us, in the writings of men who disseminate their pernicious principles through a multitude of cheap and infamous publications. HIS We have not the ability, and, conscious of our inability, not the presumption, to discuss a subject which has already been treated by our most distinguished divines and philosophers, and which, if more can be said than has been said, we leave to their successors. It forms, therefore, no part of the design of this paper, to examine the truths of Christianity, to enforce the duties of religion, to enlarge upon the importance of faith, or to show the comfort, the consolation, the pure delight, the serene joy, which wait upon that man's steps, who walks in the paths of piety. Our object is rather to imitate the Spartan custom, and by shewing the INFIDEL ON DEATH-BED, to present a mirror to infidelity itself, and to those who are in danger of becoming infidels, a beacon which may warn them of their danger. If, as has been observed by Addison," there is nothing in history so improving, as the accounts we meet with of the deaths of eminent persons, and of their behaviour at that solemn season," may we not hope, that a no less improving effect will be produced, by seeing what has been the behaviour of the scoffer and the godless in that solemn season? "Whether principles be good and efficacious or not," says Bogue, in his Essay on the New Testament," will be best discovered in the season of distress; and the more bitter the distress, the brighter the discovery will be. For bitterness, no season can be compared to that in which man perceives the near approach of death. None, therefore, can be more proper to try men's principles and the influence they produce." It is the boast of the infidel, that he is no way concerned about a future state. If he goes so far as to admit, that there may be such a state, he professes to deny its existence with relation to rewards or punishments. His notion of a hereafter resolves itself into a mere dream of something that is possible, but of whose reality he cannot assure himself; therefore it has no influence upon his conduct in this world, where his only care is, to live on, with as much comfort and convenience to himself as he can. He acts justly or unjustly, discharges the various public and private duties of his station, whatever it may be, according as he may happen to conclude that his present interests will be best served. Having settled these points in his mind, and having convinced himself that they are right, and that when he quits this world he has nothing either to hope or fear in the next, let us see how the man who thus lives, feels and acts, when the moment approaches which will instruct him whether he has lived wisely. Assuming his belief of all unbelief to be what he says it is, and that his own conviction of its being so is as strong and unshaken as he has always represented it, the death of an infidel ought to be a crowning and visible triumph of the truth of his principles. We will not go to the death-bed of the poor, uninstructed, ignorant folower of infidelity, but to that of the teachers of it, the men of wit and genius, whose brilliant parts and extensive erudition, are at least an evidence that if they have erred, it has not been for want of that mental sagacity, and intellectual power, which would have enabled them to see their error. We shall begin with VOLTAIRE. This writer occupies the very foremost place in the literature of France.— He was a wit, a poet, a novelist, an historian, a dramatist, an essayist-the productions of his pen fill a hundred volumes-and every thing he wrote manifests the splendour and universality of his genius. But, he was an INFIDEL: and his BLASPHEMY and OBSCENITY are, at least, as conspicuous as his other qualities. The blood runs cold as we read the one; our gorge rises at the filthiness, of the other. He lived to be nearly ninety, as if a |