able to see distinctly those grounds, so as to be satisfied that a belief in the doctrines is well founded. Hence to follow a demonstration of a grand mathematical truth-to perceive how clearly and how inevitably one step succeeds another, and how the whole steps lead to the conclusion-to observe how certainly and unerringly the reasoning goes on from things perfectly self-evident, and by the smallest addition at each step, every one being as easily taken after the one before, as the first step of all was; and yet the result being something not only far from self-evident, but so general and strange, that you can hardly believe it to be true, and are only convinced of it by going over the whole reasoning-this operation of the understanding, to those who so exercise themselves, always affords the highest delight. The contemplation of experimental inquiries, and the examination of reasoning founded on the facts which our experiments and observations disclose, is another fruitful source of enjoyment, and no other means can be devised for either imprinting the results on our memory, or enabling us really to enjoy the whole pleasures of science. They who found, the study of some branches dry and tedious at the first, have generally become more and more interested as they went on; each difficulty overcome gives an additional relish to the pursuit, and makes us feel, as it were, that we have by our work and labor established a right of property in the subject. Let any man pass an evening in listless idleness, or even in reading some silly tale, and compare the state of his mind when he goes to sleep or gets up next morning with its state some other day when he has passed a few hours in going through the proofs, by facts and reasoning, of some of the great doctrines in Natural Science, learning truths wholly new to him, and satisfying himself by careful examination of the grounds on which known truths rest, so as to be not only acquainted with the doctrines themselves, but able to show why he believes them, and to prove before others that they are true-he will find as great a difference as can exist in the same being; the difference between looking back on time unprofitably wasted, and time spent in self-improvement: he will feel himself in the one case listless and dissatisfied, in the other comfortable and happy; in the one case, if he do not appear to himself humbled, at least he will not have earned any claim to his own respect; in the other case, he will enjoy a proud consciousness of having, by his own exertions, become a wiser and therefore a more exalted creature.

To pass our time in the study of the sciences, in learning what others have discovered, and in extending the bounds of human knowlege, has, in all ages, been reckoned the most dignified and happy of human occupations; and the name of Philosopher, or Lover of Wisdom, is given to those who lead such a life. But it is

by no means necessary that a man should do nothing else than study known truths, and explore new, in order to earn this high title. Some of the greatest philosophers, in all ages, have been engaged in the pursuits of active life; and an assiduous devotion of the bulk of our time to the work which our condition requires, is an important duty, and indicates the possession of practical wisdom. This, however, dues by no means hinder us from applying the rest of our time, beside what nature requires for meals and rest, to the study of science; and he who, in whatever station his lot may be cast, works his day's work, and improves his mind in the evening, as well as he who, placed above such necessity, prefers the refined and elevating pleasures of knowlege to the low gratification of the senses, richly deserves the name of a True Philosopher.

One of the most gratifying treats which science affords us is the knowlege of the extraordinary powers with which the human mind is endowed. No man, until he has studied philosophy, can have a just idea of the great things for which Providence has fitted his understanding, the extraordinary disproportion which there is between his natural strength and the powers of his mind, and the force which he derives from those powers. When we survey the marvellous truths of Astronomy, we are first of all lost in the feeling of immense space, and of the comparative insignificance of this globe and its inhabitants. But there soon arises a sense of gratification and of new wonder at perceiving how so insignificant a creature has been able to reach such a knowlege of the unbounded system of the universe to penetrate, as it were, through all space, and become familiar with the laws of nature at distances so enormous as baffle our imagination to be able to say, not merely that the Sun has 329,630 times the quantity of matter which our globe has, Jupiter 308, and Saturn 93 times; but that a pound of lead weighs at the Sun 22 lbs. 15 oz. 16 dwts. 8 grs. and 4 of a grain; at Jupiter 2lbs. 1 oz. 19 dwts. 1 gr. ; and at Saturn 1 lb. 3 oz. 8 dwts. 20 grs. part of a grain; and what is far more wonderful, to discover the laws by which the whole of this vast system is held together and maintained through countless ages in perfect security and order. It is surely no mean reward of our labor to become acquainted with the prodigious genius of those who have almost exalted the nature of man above its destined sphere; and, admitted to a fellowship with those loftier minds, to know how it comes to pass that by universal consent they hold a station apart, rising over all the Great Teachers of mankind, and spoken of reverently, as if NEWTON and LAPLACE were not the names of mortal men.

The highest of all our gratifications in the contemplations of science remains: we are raised by them to an understanding of the

infinite wisdom and goodness which the Creator has displayed in all his works. Not a step can we take in any direction without perceiving the most extraordinary traces of design; and the skill every where conspicuous is calculated in so vast a proportion of instances to promote the happiness of living creatures, and especially of ourselves, that we can feel no hesitation in concluding, that if we knew the whole scheme of Providence, every part would be in harmony with a plan of absolute benevolence. Independently, however, of this most consoling inference, the delight is inexpressible of being able to follow, as it were, with our eyes, the marvellous works of the Great Architect of Nature, to trace the unbounded power and exquisite skill which are exhibited in the most minute, as well as the mightiest parts of his system. The pleasure derived from this study is unceasing, and so various, that it never tires the appetite. But it is unlike the low gratifications of sense in another respect: it elevates and refines our nature, while those hurt the health, debase the understanding, and corrupt the feelings; it teaches us to look on all earthly objects as insignificant, and below our notice, except the pursuit of knowlege and the cultivation of virtue-that is to say, the strict performance of our duty in every relation of society; and it gives a dignity and importance to the enjoyment of life, which the frivolous and the grovelling cannot even comprehend.

Let us, then, conclude, that the pleasures of Science go hand in hand with the solid benefits derived from it; that they tend, unlike other gratifications, not only to make our lives more agreeable, but better; and that a rational being is bound by every motive of interest and of duty, to direct his mind towards pursuits which are found to be the sure path of virtue as well as of happiness.

A LETTER

ΤΟ

THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE CANNING,

ON THE BILL OF 1825,

FOR REMOVING THE DISQUALIFICATIONS OF HIS MAJESTY'S ROMAN CATHOLIC SUBJECTS,

AND ON

HIS SPEECH IN SUPPORT OF THE SAME.

BY REV. HENRY PHILLPOTTS, D. D.

RECTOR OF STANHOPE.

SIXTH EDITION.

LONDON:-1827

SIR,

It is with unfeigned reluctance that I thus publicly address you on the most important question which can engage the attention either of Parliament or the country. When I was first induced to enter into this discussion, my sole object was to vindicate certain doctrines of our Reformed Church from the gross misconceptions and misrepresentations to which they had been subjected: but I soon found the theological part of the argument to be so closely interwoven with the political, that it was hardly possible to keep them separate. You, Sir, appear to have experienced the same difficulty; and if a statesman, in the discussion of the political question, has found himself entangled in the mazes of polemics, it is not to be wondered that a churchman, in treating the same matter, has been compelled to extend his inquiries into the region of politics. This consideration alone will, I am confident, make all apology for my present address to you unnecessary; and I will not trespass on your patience by affecting to offer auy. Let me only say, that if in the free examination of opinions publicly proclaimed by you, I shall at all depart from the respect which is due to your high station, to your splendid talents, and above all, to your distinguished character, you will find it much easier to forgive me, than I shall be willing to forgive myself.