false;

all the luminaries of the intellectual world are at once extinguished, and "chaos is come again." Without the evidence of the senses, wè could not prove the existence of God, nor the crucifixion or resurrection of Christ. Nor could we prove the fact, that a Revelation has been made, or that ever a messenger was sent from God, unless the testimony of the senses be valid. Did not our Lord appeal to the senses of the disciples in proof of his resurrection? And does not this great fundamental principle of our faith rest on what those men saw, and heard, and felt? If the senses are not to to be trusted, then our faith is vain; it is a "baseless fabric." Wherefore did Jesus and his apostles work miracles to convince the people, and wherefore does the Church of Rome pretend to do the same, if we are not to believe the united testimony of taste, touch, sight and smell? How the people at Cana would have laughed at Jesus Christ, if he had sent them up wine with all the "accidents" of water! While I am now writing, an excellent test occurs to me, by which any honest Priest may learn whether or not there is any change made in the elements after consécration. Let him consecrate a bottle of wine or two; and when he drinks it, if it do not intoxicate him I will give up the point. But would the blood of

JESUS (with reverence I ask the question)— would the blood of JESUS make a man drunk? I speak as to a wise man: think of what I say.

What miserable quibbling is it to say, that because one of our senses may sometimes deceive us, that they, therefore, are never to be depended on? How then could you prove a single theorem in Mathematics? If the original impressions produced by seeing are not correct, what does that avail when under the correction of the other senses they become accurate after a little experience? Father Hayes and others have brought forward confidently the fact, that a straight pole seems crooked in water. But do not our senses tell us that water possesses a power of refracting light, and thus distorting the appearance of things? All we want is a little acquaintance with the laws of nature, of whose phenomena we can know nothing except through the medium of the senses. What was it that corrected the mistake of the eye? Was it not the touch? Did Father Hayes know the difference between a straight stick and a crooked one? Then he must have been bowing to that very evidence which he was so anxious to set aside. Shall we not believe our senses when they unanimously testify that we hold in our hands, or rather take upon our tongues, not human bodies, or

or rather, a human body multiplied into many, and yet remaining one—broken into parts, and yet each part being still a perfect man and equal to the whole;-shall we not believe our senses when they unequivocally and invariably testify that we are swallowing, not a living human body, with its blood and bones, but simply a bit of flower paste?

But does not the church herself, in the very assertion of her own prerogatives in the very exercise of her dictatorial power-appeal to the authority of the senses? Do we not hear one voice issuing from every palace, college, altar, and confessional throughout her wide dominions, "HEAR THE CHURCH!"

But wherefore should they hear if their treacherous ears deceive them?

I have thus given you a specimen, very brief indeed, of the deductions of reason, concerning this "enormous tax on human credulity.” I shall have another opportunity of bringing to bear on it the light of Scripture. I must now proceed to trace the progress of my own con

victions.

Several circumstances conspired to prepare my mind for an independent examination of the principles of my religion. My reading had lately been in a direction very different from that which

POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS.

37

supplied, my mental aliment at an earlier age. The fabulous history of ancient Ireland, saintly legends, and the devotional treatises circulated among the people, were the subjects of my earliest studies. On these my imagination perpetually feasted. From these I extracted the stories, which, repeated in the family circle, excited the horror or kindled the devotion of my hearers. These were the "stuff of which my dreams were made.". Such reading naturally cherished an unbounded credulity;-reason was altogether dormant, and fancy exercised a dominion the most capricious and despotic. There was not a lonely bridge, an aged tree, or a ruined building, which I did not think infested by demons, or haunted by reprobate spirits. If I passed them alone in the night, I blessed myself, uttered devoutly an Ave Maria, or Salve Regina, and hurried on as if Satan himself were pressing close behind. A solitary bush, or a gate-post, seen in the night, appeared to my bewildered view a gigantic spectre. The shadowy creations of superstition, under a thousand fantastic forms, hovered around me on every side. In the midst of this twilight of reason all was dim and visionary. Nothing was certainly known. The power of reading, misdirected as it was, seemed but to confirm the reign of prejudice. I read nothing

C

but what might be called the Literature of Superstition. Hence imagination was preternaturally developed, and conscience rendered morbidly scrupulous; while the reflecting powers of the mind were totally unexercised, being destitute of the materials of sound knowledge to work upon. But the prime object of education, the cultivation of proper feelings, and the formation of correct habits, was never "dreamed of in the philosophy" of my teachers. So long as theology is learned from the "Lives of the Saints," and political economy from such histories as the "Irish Rogues and Rapparees," we cannot expect to see right-minded Christians, or useful members of society. "Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ?"

The first book that set me to think in earnest, and aroused all the energies of my mind, was a quarto, whose title I do not now remember, but the author of it, I think, was a person named Ramsay. It was a metaphysical treatise-and one of its objects, I recollect, was to prove the temporary character of the torments of hell, and the final salvation of all the damned. The writer laid down certain axioms, from which I found it difficult or impossible to withhold my assent, and on this foundation he reared a superstructure of argument which seemed to me quite convincing,