The Express.
London, England, 1851-02-22 00:00:00

with long poles began their measurements. Then resem-
bled all classes to consult together w hat was to be done.
Some of the elders took up the Book of Life, and examined
it attentively. It soon appeared to them, not only that
nothing could be found in recommendation of hers-wax as
n salve for the soul, or of stone alters to nail their faith to,'
or of another man's garment wherewithal to cover their
nakedness and conceal their uncleanEncbs and unsoundness,
but they also found a passage in which it is forbidden to
make long prayers and nn ordinance by which only one '
prayer is sanctioned, and every word of it plainly written'
down. The ordinance is from the Son of God himself;
prayer is from his own dictation. They then met daily and ,
said that prayers, after which they consulted the best
educated, the most moral, the fittest to instruct them in
; regard to their interests, temporal and eternal. Ere long, '
, the inquiry went so far as into the signification of lords
spiritist!. Again the Book of Life was opened; but its
, oracles here were mute. Nothing of the kind could be
found in it from beginning to end; but sundry &nuncio-
, tions to shock the sincere believer, sadly troubled fur those
who, whether from unbelief or from indifference, took
openly to themselves, what hail been so solemnly interdicted.

We have quoted sufficient to show the merits of
this pamphlet. The waist informed reader scarcely
requires to be told that Mr. Lantior is one of the
noblest writers of the day, and one of the most high-
minded liberals. Ile feels like a good man, and
writes like a great one.

The Vision of the l'atierm. A Satire. By J. J. J. A.
STRANGE.
A fierce attack upon popes, priests, and papacy in
general, written with a degree of skill and vigour
which reminds us of the days and doings of ('hurehill.
A quotation will display the writing quality better
than any description can do.
Oxford, most famous school on English ground,
So long for "port and prejudice renowned—
Where, hundred scholars who hod nothing read.
Drove " four in hand," with nothing in the head—
Where orthodoxy would in sons rejoice
Who prayed from habit, while they sinned from choice—
Where aft would seem to leave all in the lurch
For one grand scheme—low morals and high Church !
But now the vision shows that there's a change,
From white to black the Oxford fashions range ;
Bulls 'stead of foxes arc the student's sport,
And holy water streams dilute the port.
A scuffling prelate domineers the land,
With mitre like to Arlechino's wand ;
Ile flirts with Rome, then cautiously withdraws,
Sleek with his tongue, and timid with his paws.
The godly prig, who in the Gorham tight
Backed a wolf's threatenings with a parrot's bite,—
Why hurt the dandy ? why, in God's name, note
The Scarlet Esmcralda's playful goat ?
Leave the poor trimmer with his fitful sense
And briskness, one degree from impotence ;
E'en fat old Pio scarce would drag to Rome
This cleric 'frissotin from his snug home.
Past, as he speaks, there goes a crowd id' boys
With crucifixes, beads, and sable toys ;
The pallid visage, supercilious air,
The look that smells a sinner in the air—
The hermit gently blending with the prig,
And Xavier s raptures with a dandy's rig—
The thousand symptoms clearly show to me,
That these, my l'usey, arc the boys for thee!
A gentle toadyism's not abhorred,
And, if they love a mint, they love a lord:
Their Mariolatry's a strange vagary—
But then the mother—is a Lady Mary!
'Twere unpolite from her her praise to wrest ;
And then the baby is so nicely durst!
So, let us make our bow, and ask our boon,
And sing an aye to a polka tune !
Behind the boys a stately figure glides,
Thimble on finger, scissors by his rides,
The Tailor! Ile's the fellow to prepare
The artful waistcoat like the shirt of heir!
With holy tape the sacred man will stand,
And turn young Jones a Francis tut of hand.
He canonises Charley, blesses Will,
And sends their worthy parents in the bill!
Th' enraptured Viceroy. next beholds, with glee,
A half-fledged Roman in a British see ;
With Roman coot, and artificial pallor,
Mild self-denial, gentlemanly squalor.
His whole devotion a half-cracked pretence,
And his poor head full of "non—natural sense."
If such a man had means of being wise.
I 'el say him life was now a mass of lies—
But that were harsh ; he's weak. Of his trar.sgrosion,
His long cars make " aurii-ular confession."
Long the poor fellow wonders if his soul
Would not be better its an alb and stole.
Then, bit by bit, he fits his church at last
With all our brave old ancestors threw past.
Here figure eaudles—stran;re garbs figure there ;
The folks who come to pray, are forced to stare.
His sermons soon create a sad sensation ;
He gently flirts with transubstantiation ;
Till, by degrees to fuller practice grown,
For Christ's blessed bread—he offers you a stone!
Another figure meets the dreamer's eye—
The smug Volpone, spiritually fly—
Who loves the Roman catholic belief,
But also loves the church of England—beef.
At what is taught by Anglicans he mocks,
But then—the mutton is quite orthodox.
If from the church his teachings others scare,
lie holds his faith—and his professor's chair.
Live on Volpone," cried the happy Pope,
0 You have our license to its fullest scope.
Teach the old tongue in which the prophets writ,—
The Bible's tongue—with what we think of it."
Sagacious Newman threaded next the dream ;
Bright was his face with a polemic gleam.
Through every creed that mortal can he passed,
And joined a set, with half his brains, at last.
Like .Esop's fox, with hundred shifts, yet he
Ran off fur shelter to the papal tree.
Sharp, keen, and subtle, for so long—the pest
Makes others restless, in exchange fur rest ;
Boasts of his peace, yet who admires his doom—
The busiest worm in all the papal tomb ?
And, like the bride in Goethe s fearful lay,
Doomed to drag lovers from the realms of day !
And now pert Faber passed the papal bed,
With a bask manner, and an upright head,
For Faber much the humble dodge discanbi,
And deals damnation as a man would cards.
Behind him march an Oratorian hand,
Saints of the suburbs—hermits of the strand.
(Recalling, in the weakness of each lad,
The one-eyed regiment Mehemet All had !)
The pontiff smiles pontifical delight.
As all these visions pass athwart his sight.
"I see," he cries, " the Reformation's gone,
The Bible shut up, and my England won.
While, sleeping as young Hamlet's father slept,
Safe to her ear the poisoners have crept.
Old Fusel, that most dear ally of mine,
Hu drugged her church's sacramental wine :
Charles James of London slumbers on his see,
And all's prepared, my cardinal, for thee!
Where now, 0 England, your historic boast,
Trade that you gained, or shackles that you lost?
Swarming with priests, you'll have a different sight—
Of Irish happiness, and Spanish light !"
He woke. The visions all had left his bed,
But the delusion lingered in his head.
Scorned by his subjects, shall he dare to try
Here, here alone, to set his standard high ?
He does. The bull goes forth, and we have seen
The dull presumption that ignores a Queen.
Yet (as some comedy with all must mix)
An ancient talc's recalled us by their tricks:
The prelates who so coolly landed here,
Aud whom the noise now startles into fear,
Are like the tailors, who once, as we learn,
Perched on an island, 'gait a fire to burn—
But soon made hurry from the spot to sail,
Finding the placid island—was a whale.

Letters on Me Lays of Man's Nature and Development.
07111:NUT GEORGE ATIIIN6ON, F. 0.5., and HARRIET
MARTINEAU. John Chapman.
The late Lady Blessington wrote two lively books,
called, respectively, " The Confessions of an Elderly
Gentleman and " The Confessions of an Elderly Lady.
Their joint titles might be given to the work before us,
which contains the unreserved communications of a
worthy couple on the most important subjects of human
inquiry. They begin by complimenting each other
on their love of truth—and proceed to renounce
and deny all that the English people hold and
believe, as—God, frec-will, and a future state, 'imma-
teriality, and the like. The mode of doing business,
by the two writers of this volume, has been to add
modern mesmeric "facts" to old materialist argu-
ments; and their production is m?tenahsm, plug
clairfuyance. The whole is arrayed in a correspond-
ence, and the two "philosophers" agree so amicably
that they are likely to have a ludicrous remembrance
in our literature as the Darby and Joan of infidelity!
It seems that Miss Martineau wrote off one morn-
ing to Mr. H. G. Atkinson, to inquire his notions
about the universe generally, and requesting " a
method of inquiry in mental philosophy." Mr.
Atkinson, nothing daunted by the lady's billet-
dour, writes back that there " are not two
philosophies, one for mind, and another " for
matter;" and that the notion of free-will is a
n were
surprisedb
delusion ; and that " what men arc believing now is
a kind of insanity." Of course all this has ken as-
sorted
it
to sertfiednda mead r. Attkilineasonb°f:ll agnd
a hubbubwe
again. Surely, he must know that if the whole
world were to vote unanimously to-morrow that they
had no free-will at all, for example, things would go
on just the same as ever ; or perhaps he fancies that
by telling them they had no volition he could per,'
suade them to change their minds about matters in
which he is interested? He concludes his first letter

by saying " we must exhibit the real material causes
ot inen's thoughts." Expecting the exhibition in
cuestion the reader goes on, and of course finds that
nothing of the sort is forthcoming. Mr. Atkinson
has to take refuge in mystery, iike the meanest
spiritualist he ridicules. He over and over again
reminds us of the corporeal relation., of mind ; again
and again uses the old illustrations. But at last he
has to fall hack upon language tantamount to the
orthodox beliefs which he repudiates. After telling
us (p. 30) that "mind (or the conditions essential to
mind)"—as if the or were not virtually a waving of
his theory !-- is evolved from the grey vesicular
matter which forms the external layer over the con-
volutions;"—after repeatedly ridiculing metaphysics,
he finds that he must say something about "time"—
and very glad is a Berkleum to hear a materialist on
that point. He clearly wishes to make it out a
"sense," but expresses himself as follows :
I think the idea of time may be an excepticn to the rule,
and exist independent of any visual impression. (P. 14.5.)

Here an exception is assumed, because time can-
not be " explained" according to his notions slant
the brain.. Further on we hear:
I do not consider the thought', and feelings of man to
be the doings of the solid brain, but of a spiritual condition
' or body eliminated from, or induced by, the action of the
brain. How otherwise shall we expiain the simplest mo-
tion ? We know that solid things do not absolutely touta.
(P. 146.) . ' • •

- - -
There is nothing half so unintelligible as this in
the " Phtedo." e had been told by Mr. Atkinson
before, that " each faculty of the mind was the tune-
, tion of a special organ of the great nervous centre,"
which sounded definite enough; but hero we have a
"brain" whose "doings" cannot produce "thoughts
and feelings," but whose "condition" Cali " elimi-
nate " them And all this vagueness from a precise
gentleman, who swears by Bacon, and speaks as posi-
tively of his materialism as if he had proved the brain
to be a musical-box to which the man compulsorily
dances! _

'Air. Atkinson, improving on phrenology, announces
"consciousness" to be a separate organ. We have
no objection to this kind of annouua•nient being put
to the head, and let us have it proved. But what is
our surprise to drop on the following:
.• • - _

Consciousness and reason, after all, *cent hut as an out-
ward sign of an inward principle, which sees, as in a glue
at once, and through phenomena to Laws, without the pro-
cess of induction." (P. 149.)
No lonely anchorite of the second century ever had
a more thoroughly mystical notion than this! It in
little too bad for our friends to sneer at spiritualists,
and broach doctrines which are founded on the same
independent reliance on eonseiottAiess that spiritual-
ism is. Surely they don't mean that the above
" inward principle " is a " function of the bruin." if
so, it must have its "organ," and that an important
one, soon ; and they must make Imste, or in the ad-
vancing state of the " science" there kill soon be no
room left in the magic block.
Mr. Atkinson, in his mesmeric experiments, has
become acquainted with the state of trance. Indeed,
the mesmerism is the real clue to his state of mind,
and his ridiculous inconsistencies arise from his
wishing to make every phenomenon in nature tally
with it. One of his chief mesmeric patients apparently
was a " lady of fifty," in a " weakly state of health,"
and also partially deaf," and who likewise, before)
her death, "tumid to delusive dreaming." These
are not promising phenomena! Accordingly, we
hear she could discover things ; but what they were,
we do not learn. However, we come, by and by, to

the announcement of a very mystic power in man,
the "apparent second self" the "voice-, embodying,
says Mr. Atkinson, the "intuitive and unconscious
h*her condition." In this state, "we attain know-
dge at first hand, as it were, and stand closer to
the law and principle of things." llowever, of this
important matter the reader only gets a tantalising
glimpse. " seldom find thee state pare and with-
out the alloy oh dreaming," save the master.
We should think not; but how does Mr. Atkinson
judge of that? How tan he decide oil the purity of
a state which he declares superior to the common
one, by the common one? And shut right has ho
to compare to the sickly mutterinp of a cluirvoyant
the mental impulses of a grand, calm, healthy intel-
lect like that of Socrates? Does he think that So-
crates is speaking any other way than with poetic
metaphor when he tells young Muslims that his
" demon" warned him not to cross the Elysaus, and
hear repeated the oration of Lysias, which he pro-
ceeds to confute?
Miss Martineau plays rather a secondary part in
this work, for Mr. Atkinson takes a most ungallant
share of the discourse to himself. But the lady is
strong when she does hold forth. In Letter 5, she
draws a happy comparison between man and the
lower animals. " Vi'lien the monkey," she says,
" puts the wig into the boiler, and hides the plum-
pudding, &c." Here is an exercise of "several facul-
ties." Very true, as everybody knows. But, because a
monkey puts Miss blaruncau's wig into the boiler,
that is no reusou that there was no quality in Shak-
speare but the medullary matter to make him
higher than the monkey! Still less is it—or any-
thing else in this book—a reason why the lady
should speak contemptuously of the understandings of
those who believe they have free-wills or immortal
souls. We admit the experience she has derived
from;eimniining the "brains of the dead" (p. 27), and
may agree with her in the fully "of slicing them;"
but, seeing that so little results from it but
contempt for her neighbours—we cannot help think-
ing that fingering the brains of the dead to seek at.-
guments for overthrowing the faith of the living, is
not an employment calculated to improve the intel-
lect or amend the heart.
The application of the doctrines of this book is the
strangest thing about it. "Trance," which them-
selves pronounce generally sickly (and yet the highest)
state, is made to account for " religions." Christ is
called "constitutionally a clairvoyant," and by a
Csbrutality, not dignified enough to be called
aPhemy, is compared to the boy Dacia in
America As if the main point in such cases
was not heroic purity of life and divine wisdom, with
which it is not pretended clairvoyance has anything
to do! His miracles are admitted when they suit
mesmerism ; denied when they do not. The faculty
of seeing " black boxes" in other rooms, when in a
state between insanity and coma, is called prophesy.
All religions are &Adored delusions. Sir Thomas
More's gentle wisdom in faith, Cromwell's stern
enthusiasm in it, Berkeley's clear-sighted piety, the
highest humanities of the most human men, are
assumed to be "disease," by a couple who seem to
spend their lives in trying to learn truth from
diseased people!
They rave of "fact," and trust to the most dis-
puted and difficult facts of the day; they.refer every-
thing to the brain, and speak of mysterious powers
independent of it; they aro compelled to believe at
last in inner and utterly unapproachable forces, and
decline to worship or cull them holy. •
The effect of this book will of course he neither to
shake idealists one whit, nor damage orthodoxy. It
may seduce the vulgarest portion of the uninformed;
and, literally establishing nothing, may mislead illi-
terate people—like what it is, an iynis fabrics, from
the dank morass of materialism.

r. Edited Lc W. HAzurr. Vol. I. Part I
Itoutledge and Co.

As one of the enterprises, now happily .o numerous,
to diffuse the writings of our great dramatist, this
new edition calls for commendation. Five plays of
Shakspe,are, printed with a clear and bold type, upon
good paper, and offered in a boarded volume for one
shilling, prove at any rate a publisher's confidence in
the sound taste of his countrymen. The title-page
promises a life of Shakspcare, and the text is accom-
panied throughout with glossorial notes, for which
Mr. Hazlitt is reponsible.

YORKSHIRE MRTCULTCRAL BINK.—The affaire
of this unfortunate banking tompane arc about being
brought to a close. The trustees and directors have pub-
lished a report, preparatory to a meeting of the shareholders
on Tuesday next, in York. This document intimates that
the directors are anxious to return to the shareholders such
portion of the remaining assets as may not be required to
answer the outstanding liabilities. The directors propose
to the shareholders to make a further return of ls. 6d. per
share, which will amount to 2,0561. 135., and to take the
residue of the bank effects to their own use, taking upon
themselves the remaining liabilities. This proposition will
form the principal topic of consideration at the meetilg.
EXTENSIVE ROBBERY ON A RAILWAY.-011 Thom-
day evening, as a gentleman named Alford, resitting in
Manchester, was waiting the arrival of the train at the
Bolton Railway Station, New Bailey-street, Salford, some
admit thieves contrived to abstract a red morocco pocket-
book, containing 8004., from his parson.