quiry to be made an end of. There is one instance of this whichy appears somewhat mysterious and somewhat foolish. The conversation had been about Junius. He had laughed at some of the claims to the honour of being that personage;

One of the company now asked if he knew the author. On the question being put, he immediately crossed his knife and fork on his plate, and, assuming a stern look, replied "I do!" His manner, tone, and attitude were all too formidable to admit of any further interrogatories.'

We are at a loss to conceive what there could be in the question to bring up all this majesty, and it seems rather a pitiable pusillanimity that durst not say one word to maintain the innocence of asking it, and even following it up with a second.

Mr. Stephens allows that, notwithstanding his hero's zealous habitual love of truth, he would sometimes, in disregard of it, fight for mere victory; a very superfluous expense of ammunition, it may be thought, to give it no worse character, in a man whose actual belief and unbelief included so many things to be maintained in hostility to prevailing opinions. A worse thing, however, than the folly of the practice was its immorality; and yet it is this, we presume, that the biographer means to extenuate by adding, as if it were an unquestionable proposition, this most thoughtless solecism, the ablest and BEST of men frequently fight, like gladiators, for fame, without troubling themselves much as to the justice of the cause.'

It would be but impertinent, however, to affect to call such a character as that of John Horne Tooke to account for this or the other particular culpability. It would be something like attending to criticise the transactions of a Pagan temple, and excepting to one rite as ungraceful, perhaps, and to another practice as irreverent; like as if the substance of the service were of a quality to deserve that its particular parts should be corrected. His whole moral constitution was unsound, from the exclusion, as far as can be judged from this work, or as there are any other means of judging, of all respect to a future account, to be given to the Supreme Governor. Towards the conclusion of his life, he made calm and frequent references to his death, but not a word is here recorded expressive of anticipations beyond it. The unavoidable inference from the whole of these melancholy memorials is, that he reckoned on the impunity of eternal sleep. Not, however, that he was willing to acknowledge any obligations to that protective economy; for he is known to have insisted, in a tone of the utmost confidence, in a very serious conversation not very long before his death, that if there should be a future life and retribution, he, of all men, had no reason to be afraid of it, for that he had even greater

merit than could be acquired for his requittal before a just Judge. The grand rule of moral excellence, even according to the gospel, he observed, was, to do to others as we would they should do to us; but he had gone much beyond this.

From Mr. Stephens's record it would not appear that he would very often formally and gravely talk on religion, though he would advert to it in the incidental way of satire and swearing. One particular conversation is alluded to in which his opinions were more disclosed than on any other remembered occasion. But with the nature of those avowed opinions the readers were not to be entrusted, further than some trifling hints, by implication, that he was not a polytheist !-In one conversation, not long before his death, he enlarged on the divine goodness, as manifest in the constitution of the world, and as having been amply experienced by himself. He maintained a wonderful serenity, a very signally philosophic tone, amidst his complicated and often oppressive bodily sufferings. At one time, however, it appears he consented to live only in compliance with the entreaties of his friends, having, as it seems, determined to withdraw himself from the burden by declining all sustenance.

We must imagine that the biographer again stands on his privilege of knowing more than his readers shall know, when he relates, without the slightest hint at a reason, a very strange proceeding of Horne near the close of his life.

During his last illness he formed the resolution of destroying all his manuscripts, and every other paper, or writing, title-deeds and account books only excepted. The operation was performed in an apartment above stairs, and lasted during a whole month. An incessant fire was kept up for that purpose, and one of the young ladies, who was obliged reluctantly to assist in the conflagration, has since very appositely compared it to the burning of the Alexandrian library." On this occasion the manuscript alluded to above was wholly consumed;' (a very large additional volume to his great philological work) a most valuable correspondence was at the same time committed to the flames, together with a treatise on Moral Philosophy, in express opposition, as I understand, to the principles laid down by Mr. Archdeacon Paley. It is not a little remarkable that the life of the author had nearly been sacrificed at the same time with his works; for the combustion became so violent as to extend to his clothes, and actually scorched his great coat to such a degree as to render it utterly unfit to be worn again.-I have been informed, by a gentleman who has been praised by him in Vol. II, and is no mean judge of every thing appertaining to language, that the first word in Vol. III, thus unrelentingly destroyed, was, " BELIEF;" and that a large portion of the manuscript consisted of a critical examination of the credibility of human testimony.'

He advanced to the close of his life with a self-complacent mixture of pride and gaiety. A thoughtful religious reader will

accompany him with a sentiment of deep melancholy, to behold so keen and strong and perverted a spirit, triumphant in its own delusions, fearlessly passing into the unknown world.

In closing this article, and wishing we knew how to apologize for its unpardonable prolixity, we are bound to repeat that, as a political man, we think it evident that Horne has experienced the utmost degree of injustice; that his speculations and projects were moderate, that they uniformly aimed at the public good, that they were maintained with a consistency which put most of his distinguished contemporaries to shame, and that this very same inflexible consistency was a principal cause of the opprobrium with which time-serving politicians loaded him, in their own defence.

Of Mr. Stephens we have neither good nor evil to say. The book will convey a more competent idea of Tooke than any thing that has yet appeared, but we should deem it the production of very moderate abilities and very moderate labour. An associate of Horne Tooke ought, particularly, to have written with more precision and more compression.

Art. XIII. Discourses on Universal Restitution, delivered to the Society of Protestant Dissenters in Lewin's Mead, Bristol. By John Prior Estlin, LL.D. 8vo. pp. 211. Price 7s. boards. Longman and Co.

1813.

IT is the province of reason to ascertain the evidence and the sense of Revelation. In prosecuting the first branch of inquiry, we have a right to consider ourselves as instituting a rigorous scrutiny into a subject with which we were previously unacquainted. The pretensions of Revelation are of so peculiar and imposing an order, its authority is so dogmatic and oracular, and the reception it demands so unqualified and implicit, that we may well expect the antecedent proofs by which its claims are supported to endure the minutest and most rigid investigation. And such indubitably is the case. It matters not to what ordeal these proofs are subjected, nor what hardihood of intelligence may be employed in attempting to invalidate the facts on which they rest. They are surrounded by testimonies against which malice itself cannot take exception, and connected with events totally inexplicable on any other principle, than that of their truth. There is, too, an immense variety of evidence, each in itself furnishing distinct and satisfactory conclusions, and securing, in their combination, a force of argument, justly entitled to all the authority of moral demonstration.

In determining the sense of Revelation, however, it becomes us to adopt a method of inquiry, in some respects, different.

from that which is employed in ascertaining its evidence.

Facts

in both cases are the subjects of investigation, but in the former, the truth of the facts is necessarily dependant on human testimony; that is, human beings like ourselves, with the same passions, and senses, and feelings we possess, are the witnesses and memorialists of the facts. We are therefore compelled to ascertain their competency and credibility, by the ordinary laws of historic evidence. We examine their character; we investigate contemporary and independent testimonies; we attend to the events of unquestionable notoriety which resulted from their exertions; and in connection with the facts which they attested, (supported by analogous facts equally remarkable, which took place before enemies as well as friends, and in circumstances which provoked and demanded inquiry,) we find a series of moral effects produced by the reception of their testimony, and ultimately terminating in the diffusion and establishment of a new religion. Now, in the inquiries which make us acquainted with these facts and records, we are naturally led to that mode of investigation, which is best adapted to the induction of evidence, and its just impression on our belief. But that belief once gained, we find the first witnesses instantly assuming a new character. They become the authorised interpreters of the divine will; they sustain peculiar and exclusive prerogatives; and are emphatically and pre-eminently, " ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech men by them." By virtue of this sacred character, they demand the same implicit submission to their recorded testimony, which they claimed for their oral instructions, and respecting all the discoveries which their writings contain, on the various subjects of faith and duty, they assert with confidence-" we have the mind of Christ." Now it is obvious, that in examining these subjects, we have not precisely that liberty of inquiring which we exercise in reference to the antecedent evidence. By means of that evidence we have arrived at the important conclusion, that the instructions are divine: and "if we receive the witness of men, the witness of God is greater." Here we lose sight of the instruments of communication; here we perceive the ultimate design of the powers and endowments they possessed; which were not to accomplish either personal or temporary objects, but to accredit and authorise the communication itself, and to invest it with all the characters of inspiration. By virtue of such claims, the assertions of the -sacred volume become intitled to an implicit and unhesitating reception. As far as its information may include notices of facts capable of proof from other sources, or allusions to subjects within the sphere of unassisted reason, we are authoVOL. X. 2 L

rised to examine the agreement of such notices and allusions with our antecedent knowledge: but on every topic on which no previous information existed, and respecting which there could not possibly exist any previous information, our only inquiry relates to the import of the terms in which the communication is made, and the uses to be made of the communication itself. The question, as to the right interpretation, is a question of grammar and criticism; and to the decisions thus legitimately formed, whether agreeing or not with our previous reasonings, we are bound to yield unequivocal and cordial subjection.

These observations have an immediate bearing on the subject discussed in the volume before us. It is far from being our intention to enter minutely into the controversy, or to examine the various arguments advanced by Dr. Estlin on this difficult and awful theme. The question respects the duration of future punishment. Dr. E. is the advocate of 'universal restitution;' or as he describes it- the total destruction of sin, by means of punishment, and the final restoration of all men to virtue, and consequently to happiness. (p. 8.) The following is the author's account of his 'method.'

In the first place, I shall consider the arguments for the doctrine of the Eternity of Hell-torments, and endeavour to prove that they are not sufficient for its support; and then show, that this doctrine is inconsistent with the perfections of God, and the declarations of scripture. In the second place, I shall consider the arguments for the doctrine of aunihilation, and endeavour to prove that they are not sufficient for its support; and then show that this doctrine also is inconsistent with the perfections of God and the declarations of Scripture.-In the third place, I shall endeavour to prove both from the perfections of God and the declarations of scripture that the end of punishment in the divine government is to reform, from which final virtue and final happiness will be the glorious result. I shall in the fourth place endeavour to answer the prin cipal objections to this doctrine.' p. 9-10.

We have one remark to suggest on this statement of Dr. Estlin, before we advert to his subsequent reasonings. In proposing the three first divisions of his work, he specifies two general sources of argument: the perfections of God and the declarations of Scripture.' Now we beg the reader's attention to the order and place of these topics. He will observe the uniform priority given to what the Dr. calls the perfections of God:' that is, his own views of those perfections. This may seem an accidental arrangement; but we are persuaded, that it arises from a principle which characterises the