After a few miles ride, I told him, that my continuing longer unknown to him would constitute a matter of deception, which his evident urbanity and liberality did not merit. He was somewhat startled at knowing the name of his companion; but manfully said, that my liberation was the only act connected with common sense that he had known the government to perform. His conversation grew more and more agreeable, and, as he did not seem to court controversy, I did not press it, never press it in common conversation. Our journey was one of instruction and congratulation and we cordially shook hands at parting at Dorchester.* I found that he had been persecuted, as an Irishman, during the political contests in that country, and he was minutely acquainted with all the best men of that ill-fated island, who had suffered or were suffering. He was certainly possessed of a little redeeming grace for the character of the clergymen of the established church in this country, and we could both agree in wishing that there were more like him. Could I reach him in print, I would express a hope of another interview on some future day, either in town or country. A more agreeable and more instructive travelling companion, I never met, and, as I presume, that he would say of me, 66 pity, that this man should be an atheist;" so, I say of him, pity, that such a man should be a Christian and a priest.

Short as was my stay in each town through which I passed, I marked a great change in the public mind upon the subject of religion. To me, it appears, that any man may attack it without molestation and with encouragement, in any town in this country. Wherever I have been known, I have found nothing but approbation, and in Exeter, Plymouth, and Portsea, I was surprised at the accumulation of friends at a short notice, of which I had no previous knowledge. As the fine weather returns, I will put the public feeling fairly to a trial throughout the country, or over as much of it as I can pass, and every where invite mild and fair and free discussion. I purpose to do it by circular letters to the preachers of the Christian religion in each town of note. Then I shall produce a more full and formal journal; this is the description of a running visit, a mere shewing to my old friends in Devonshire and Hampshire, that I was not metamorphorsed into that great dragon about which they have read and heard so much. RICHARD CARLILE

DIALOGUE

BETWEEN PARSON KNOTTESFORD AND MR. LANCASTER.

K. OH! how I wish those good old times would return, when something like strenuous measures for crushing mischievous opi

* On my arrival in town, I find the Reverend Gentleman's card at my shop, and hear that he has narrated the incident of our meeting to a Bookseller in Paternoster Row.

nions could be taken. This rage, this mania for what is called instruction, is quite disgusting. Would that we might imitate the example of the scholars of the university, who killed the rascally mathematician Ramus, and dragged his naked and bloody body from door to door of all the colleges, as an example to other philosophers, and also as a small repayment for the mischief he had caused in bringing their system of tuition into contempt.

L. Who was Ramus? He must have been an abominable character to have deserved such treatment; he must surely have committed some most enormous crimes?

K. Most certainly: he tried to make people think for themselves: he offended the colleges by writing against the Greek philosopher Aristotle; but he was also suspected of entertaining opinions much worse. It is, indeed, a great pity, that some people who take the trouble to dispense knowledge, are not served in the same manner now-a-days; and that the books of those philosophers who have lived are not collected into piles and burnt publicly. That Bayle, that Montaigne, that Helvetius, and that Voltaire, who have dared to joke and reason so artfully against us, all richly deserved the same fate as the philosopher whom I have mentioned. Oh! had they been punished, what a fine moral lesson for posterity it would have been for ever and ever. fact these people who reduce every thing to reason are the pests of a state as well as of a church establishment.

In

L. So far as people reason falsely and badly I agree with you, because they are then both tiresome and insupportable, but even then, I do not think that we ought to hang or imprison a poor man, because in his search after knowledge and truth he has made some false syllogisms. If I remember right the people whom you have mentioned to me as deserving of punishment, have employed their talents in reasoning both excellently and usefully.

K. That makes the matter worse; they are the more dangerous.

L. Dangerous? To whom, if you please? Is there a single instance of a philosopher having brought war, famine, or pestilence, into a country? The great philosopher Bayle for example, against whom you declaim with so much violence, did he ever form the detestable wish that the dykes would give way in Holland, and so drown all the inhabitants of that country, as it is said, that a certain great minister wished? but this minister truly was no philosopher?

K. Would to God that that Bayle and his writings had been drowned as well as all the free-thinking Dutch, for a more abominable man has never lived, saving that diabolical rascal Voltaire. He exposes abuses and opinions with so odious a fidelity; he brings together the pro and con with so criminal an impartiality; he writes with so intolerable a clearness and precision,

that the people of the commonest understanding can comprehend him; and are enabled to judge, and to doubt of the truth of matters for themselves. This is not to be endured: for myself, I own it, I always fall into a holy fury, when this man, or others of the same sort, are mentioned to me.

L. I do not think they have ever wished to put you in a passion. But why do you go away?

K. I am going to the house of the minister Flimflam. I have been waiting for an audience these last two days, but he is so much engaged, sometimes with the privy council, and sometimes with his Italian opera-dancer, that I have not yet succeeded in obtaining the honour of speaking to him.

L. But now, I know he is actually at the opera, attending a rehearsal. What business have you with him that is of so pressing a nature?

K. I want him to give me the assistance of his name and credit, to inform against and imprison a young teacher, who is spreading amongst the poor the knowledge of the sentiments and opinions of the philosopher Locke. Can one conceive any thing more abominable?

L. Why so; what are the peculiar opinions of this philosopher? K. I can hardly speak from my own knowledge, as I have never read his works, but others tell me, that he says, we are born without any ideas, either good or bad; that we only receive our notions of good and bad from education, and that thus we must beware of receiving as true the prejudices of any particular country; and carefully distinguish and estimate knowledge, in proportion as it can be made useful to increase the happiness of the whole world. He proves that we have no innate ideas by the closest demonstration, and thus leads people to reflect, whence they receive their opinions from, and wherefore they hold them as true: by which reflection half that is usually taught as true, must be rejected, since it has no foundation but fancy and prejudice. Moreover, he says, we know nothing of the essence or elements of matter; that our senses are our only means of knowledge; that men think not always; that a drunken man who falls asleep has no clear or connected ideas during his slumber and intoxication; and a hundred other similar impertinencies, that I cannot now recall to my memory, but which are all contrary to the doctrines of the church, and consequently bad and untrue.

L. Well, but if this young teacher who is a disciple of Locke, is silly enough to believe (in spite of your declarations to the contrary) that a drunken man thinks much and collectedly during his slumber, why should we persecute him for that? What harm has he done, or can he do by this opinion? Has he conspired against the state; has he proclaimed that theft, calumny, and murder, are good actions? Tell me now candidly can you contra

dict him? or, if you will not reply to that question, will you tellme honestly whether a philosopher has ever caused the slightest commotion in society?

K. No, never, I confess that sincerely.

L. Are they not for the greatest part men of very retired lives? Are they not generally poor without protection and without support from the governing authorities? Is it not partly for these reasons that you prosecute them, and that you are better able to oppress them?

K. Formerly those belonging to this sect were people of no weight in society. Such men as Socrates, Erasmus, Bayle and Locke were none of them opulent: but now the dangerous opinions (falsely called philosophy) have by this means spread every where. They have mounted to the throne, and even to the tribunals of justice! people now pique themselves on what they call their reasoning faculty, but which, truly, is merely a facility of stringing unmeaning words together with rapidity, and serving in those places, where fortunately for the unwary and simple we abound, and which, consequently, we have put into good order, we find this intellectuality, this reason prevailing every where. To the man who wishes to see his wandering brethren inspired with the fear of God, and reverence for those who impart his holy word to them, such a state of things is truly lamentable! and as we are unable to revenge ourselves and the insulted majesty of the church upon the opulent learned, it is our duty to try to exterminate, at least, all those who, though they are poor and without power, yet raise themselves from insignificance by endeavouring to enlighten others.

L. To revenge yourselves! and pray why? Have these poor people ever tried to obtain your employments, or prerogatives, or wealth?

K. No, but they despise us, if the truth must be spoken. Sometimes they make game of us, and that we can never pardon. L. If they make game of you, they certainly do not act quite right, we should make game of no one; but pray tell me, why they have never joked at the useful institutions of their country, but have reserved all their merriment for you and your establishment?

K. Truly it is this conduct which makes my blood boil; for our holy institutions are independent of, and above all laws.

L. That is the reason which has made so many honest and good people turn you into ridicule. You wish that the laws which should be founded upon reason and utility, should become dependent upon any opinion that your caprice may think proper to bring into the world. Do not you feel that those actions and opinions which are just, clear, and evident, are universally respected, whether the person who holds them is a Mahometan,

Chinese, or Christian; and that consequently chimeras and useless fables, and unjust actions, can never obtain the same veneration.

K. Let us leave the laws and judges; let us keep to the philosophers. It is certain that formerly they have said, and wrote, and taught as many absurd and ridiculous things, as they say we have, and thus we have a right to elevate ourselves against them, even if we should only do so from a feeling of jealousy at their entering into our profession.

L. Many of them undoubtedly have taught foolish doctrines, as well as other men; but still their chimeras and speculations have hurt no one but themselves. They have never lighted up civil wars, while yours have caused more than one.

K. Because the doctrines we had to inculcate were so much more important to mankind, and as an old divine once said, admirable, that it is a fine thing to trouble the whole world by the arguments adduced in support of them." Do not we resemble those ancient enchanters who excited tempests with their words? We should be the complete masters of the human mind, if it was not for these thinking visionaries employing their time and talents in exciting the mass of the people to follow their example.

L. Well, but point out to them where they are visionary, shew them where they are wrong, prove to them that they reason' badly and perniciously for human happiness.

K. Human happiness! this is one of their theoretical terms by means of which they cause so much mischief in society. Under the garb of this term these infamous speculatists engage the young and simple to follow their steps in breaking down the barriers of social order, and in disregarding those holy places of worship, so necessary to the production of happiness, both here and hereafter. We are fully aware what constitutes human happiness, and therefore we want the whole world to be contributors.

L. But if the happiness you would bestow is opposed to the feeling of the world, as to what really will constitute its happiness, surely you should not be allowed to pursue your schemes.

K. If the simpletons, I had almost said the fools, knew what was for their benefit, they would know that there is no happiness to be found, but in the precepts of that blessed religion which our Church establishment endeavours to diffuse, and they would promote the servants of that Church as their best friends and guides to their truest interest. Is it not by our mediation that they gain ages of bliss hereafter? Are not these philosophers, these damnable atheists, in ridiculing our doctrines of the soul's existence, destroying essentially the happiness of the multitude?

L. If you can prove the existence of the soul, how can these men, whom you so abuse, ridicule it? Bring but your evidence and no ridicule can overturn it.

K Our faculty of thinking, our faculty of memory, so totally