Now if you admit, with Locke, and with us infidels, that every one has the right of rejecting whatever is contrary to his natural reason and that all our ideas and all our knowledge are acquired only by the inlets of our external senses; what becomes of the system of revelation, and of that order of things in time past, which is so contradictory to that of the time present? unless we consider it as a dream of the human brain during the state of superstitious ignorance.-With these two single phrases, I could overturn the whole edifice of your faith. Dread not, however, Sir, in me such overflowing zeal for the same reason that I have not the frenzy of martyrdom, I have not that of making proselytes. It becomes those ardent or, rather, acrimonious tempers, who mistake the violence of their sentiments, for the enthusiasm of truth; the ambition of noise and rumour, for the love of glory; and, for the love of their neighbour, the detestation of his opinions, and the secret desire of dominion.

As to me who have not received from nature the turbulent qualities of an apostle, and never sustained in Europe the character of a dissenter, I am come to America neither to agitate the conscience of men, nor to form a sect, nor to establish a colony in which, under the pretext of religion, I might erect a little empire to myself. I have never been seen evangelizing my idea, either in temples or public meetings. I have never, likewise practised that quackery of beneficence, by which a certain divine, imposing a tax upon the generosity of the public, procures for himself the honours of a more numerous audience, and the merit of distributing at his pleasure a bounty which costs him nothing, and for which he receives grateful thanks dexterously stolen from the original donors.-Either in the capacity of a stranger, or in that of a citizen, a sincere friend to peace, 1 carry into society neither the spirit of dissention, nor the desire of commotion; and because I respect in every one what I wish him to respect in me, the name of liberty is in my mind nothing else but the synonyme of justice; as a man, whether from moderation or indolence, a spectator of the world rather than an actor in it, I am every day less tempted to take on me the management of the minds or bodies of other men: it is sufficient for an individual to govern his own passions and caprices. If, by one of these caprices, I am induced to think it may be useful, sometimes to publish my reflections, I do it without obstinacy or pretension to that implicit faith, the ridicule of which you desire to impart to me, p. 123. My whole book of the Ruins which you treat so ungratefully, since you thought it amusing, p. 122, evidently bears this character. By means of the contrasted opinions which I have scattered through it, it breathes that spirit of doubt and uncertainty which appears to me the best suited to the weakness of the human mind, and the most adapted to its improvement, inasmuch as it always leaves a door open to new truths; while the spirit of dogmatism and immoveable belief, limiting our progress to a first received opinion, binds us at hazard, and without resource, to the yoke of error or falsehood, and occasions the most serious mischiefs to society; since, by combining with the passions, it engenders fanaticism, which, sometimes misled and sometimes misleading, though always intolerant and despotic, attacks whatever is not of its own nature; drawing upon itself persecution when it is weak, and practising persecution when it is powerful; establishing a religion of terror, which annihilates the faculties, and vitiates the conscience: so that, whether under a political or a religious aspect, the spirit of doubt is friendly to all ideas of liberty, truth, or genius, while a spirit of confidence is connected with the ideas of tyranny, servility, and ignorance. If, as is the fact, our own experience and that of others daily teaches us that what at one time appeared true, afterwards appeared demonstrably false, how can we connect with our judgments that blind and presumptuous confidence

which pursues those of others with so much hatred? No doubt it is rea sonable and even honest, to act according to our present feelings and conviction: but if these feelings and their causes do vary by the very nature of things, how dare we impose upon ourselves or others an invariable conviction? How, above all, dare we require this conviction in cases where there is really no sensation, as happens in purely speculative questions, in which no palpable fact can be presented? Therefore when opening the book of nature, a more authentic one and more easy to be read than leaves of paper blackened over with Greek or Hebrew, when I reflected that the slightest change in the material world has not been in time past, nor is, at present, effected by the difference of so many religions and sects which have appeared and still exist on the globe, and that the course of the seasons, the path of the sun, the return of rain and drought are the same for the inhabitants of each country, whether Christian, Mussulman, Idolators, Catholics, Protestants, &c. I am induced to believe that the universe is governed by laws of wisdom and justice, very different from those which human ignorance and intolerance would enact. And as, in living with men of very opposite religious persuasions, I have had occasion to remark that their manners were, nevertheless, very analogous; that is to say, among the different Christian sects, among the Mahometans, and even among those people who were of no sect-I have found men who practise all the virtues public and private, and that too without affectation; while others, who were incessantly declaiming of God and religion, abandoned themselves to every vicious habit, which their belief condemned-I became convinced that Ethics, the doctrine of morality, are the only essential, as they are the only demonstrable, part of religion. And as, by your own avowal, the only end of religion is to render men better, in order to add to their happiness, p. 62, I have concluded that there are but two great systems of religion in the world, that of good sense and beneficence, and that of malice and hypocrisy.

In closing this letter I find myself embarrassed by the nature of the sentiment which I ought to express towards you; for, in declaring as you have done, p. 123, that you do not care for the contempt of such men as me, (ignorant as you were of my opinion), you tell me plainly that you do not care for their esteem: I leave, therefore, to your discernment and taste to determine the sentiment most congenial to my situation and your desert. Philadelphia, March 10, 1797. C. F. VOLNEY.

P.S. I do not accompany this public letter with a private note to Doctor Priestley; because communications of that nature carry an appearance of bravado, which, even in exercising the right of a necessary defence, appear to me incompatible with decency and politeness.

"And what does it do for me here, except, perhaps, expose me to the contempt of such men as Mr. Volney, which, however, I feel myself pretty well able to bear ?" p. 124.

This language is the more surprizing, as Dr. Priestley never received any thing from me but civilities. In the year 1791 I sent him a dissertation of mine on the chronology of the ancients, in consequence of some charts which he had himself published. His only answer was to abuse me in a pamphlet in the year 1792. After this first abuse, on meeting me here last winter, he procured me to be invited to dine with his friend Mr. Russel, at whose house he lodged; after having shown me polite attentions at that dinner, he abuses me in his new pamphlet. After this second abuse, he meets me in Spruce-street, and takes me by the hand as a friend, and speaks of me in a large company under that denomination. Now I ask the public what kind of a man is Doctor Priestley?

Printed and Published by RICHARD CARLILE, 62, Flect-street, where all Communications, post-paid, or free of expense, are requested to be left.

RUSSIA AND TURKEY.

WE are going to try our hands at a bit of foreign news, to see how far "THE LION" can safely play with the (what d'ye call'em?) of the Stamp-Office. "THE LION" is an animal not easily frightened, and is more easily conquered by generosity than by bites and blows. We confess, that we have not the fear of God, the King, the Church, and the Honourable the Commissioners of the Board of Stamps, before our eyes, nor in our hearts. Whether the Commissioners make a distinction between new news and old news, we cannot say, until we try them; but we are sorry to say, readers, that we have no news but that which is a little stale for you; for you all know that news does not keep new and sweet long, in these piping hot days of inquiry as to "what news?" Indeed, we shall contend with the Stamp Commissioners, that a weekly paper cannot be a newspaper. We cannot condescend to notice the political twaddle, the nursery politics talked over at the Crown and Anchor, by Burdett, Hobhouse, and Hunt, on Monday last; because Cobbett was not there, dared not again show himself there, as he last year threatened he would. Knowing the cowardly nature of the man, we knew very well, from what we saw, that he would not show himself there again.

We have no Parliament sitting this week, for a little bit of Parliamentary news, and as to the news of the religious associations, that is always too stale for our pens to touch; so we are driven to Russia and Turkey for a bit of foreign news.

First-There is a war declared on the part of Russia against Turkey, and the Russians are in full march through the

Printed and Published by R. CARLILE, 62. Fleet Street. No. 22.-VOL. I. 2 x

Turkish dominions, with the expectation of soon reaching Constantinople.

Second. There is not yet a report of battle; nor is any expected, until the Russians approach Constantinople. No one supposes that the Turks can make any effectual stand against the present condition of the Russian army, but there's a question open, how far the other European Powers will allow Russia to proceed in the annihilation of the Ottoman Power?

In a note to the second canto of Lord Byron's Childe Harold, we have the following view of the question:-" The Ottomans, with all their defects, are not a people to be despised. Equal, at least, to the Spaniards, they are superior to the Portuguese. If it be difficult to pronounce what they are, we can at least say what they are not. They are not treacherous, they are not cowardly, they do not burn heretics, they are not assassins, nor has an enemy advanced to their capital. They are faithful to their Sultan till he becomes unfit to govern, and devout to their God without an Inquisition. Were they driven from St. Sophia to-morrow, and the French or Russians enthroned in their stead, it would become a question whether Europe would gain by the exchange? England would certainly be the loser."

The riddle of this story is, reader, that the writer meant to say, that the Christians have a peculiar claim to those crimes and vices which the Turks are said not to have.

We look at this war as we look at every thing else; the question of good or evil with us, is, as to whether it will have a tendency to lessen the general superstition of mankind. All our politics center on this point. Seeing that there can be no good political principles associated with superstition, we deem the summit of political wisdom to consist of a war with superstition. We shall rejoice at every thing that has this tendency, at nothing that has it not. Therefore, the war between the Russians and the Turks is of no more political importance to the people of England, than a war in China, or among the blacks of Africa. If it lessen the superstition of Mahometanism, without increasing that of Christianity, good will be done; or, if another race of Huns or Goths were to do the same sort of thing for Christianity in Europe, good would be done. There is no barbarism so barbarous as the barbarism of superstition. None that so much impedes the progress of civilization.

However, reader, as we sought news for the Stamp Office rather than for thee, we ought to tell thee, that we deem this sort of political speculation about the consequences of national wars to be a minor sort of politics, and only indulged in by political idlers. The sort of politics which we recommend to thee is, that which is to be found in the conflict of mind, which will neither destroy thy limbs, nor break thy bones. Leave kings to fight

with kings, and priests with priests; but fight thee against all their tyrannies and superstitions, as displayed in the following lines:

MONARCHY AND RELIGION.

The greatest curses any age has known,
Have issued from the TEMPLE or the THRONE.
Extent of ill from KINGS at first begins,

But PRIESTS must aid and consecrate their sins.
The tortur'd subject might be heard complain,
When sinking under a new weight of chain,
Or more rebellious might perhaps repine,
When tax'd to dow'r a titled concubine,

But the PRIEST CHRISTENS ALL, A RIGHT DIVINE.
When at the altar a new monarch kneels,
What conjured awe upon the people steals!
The chosen HE adores the precious oil,
Meekly receives the solemn charm, and while
The PRIEST some blessed nothings mutters o'er,
Sucks in the sacred grease at every pore:-
HE seems at once to shed his moral skin,
And feels divinity transfus'd within.
The trembling vulgar dread the royal nod,
And worship God's anointed more than God.
Such sanction gives RELIGION to such kings!
Such mischief from those cursed fountains springs.
But bend your eye to yonder harass'd plains,
Where KING and PRIEST in one, united reigns;
Lo! see fair England mourn her former state,
And droop oppress'd beneath a priestly weight:
Where fat GOSPEL-MONGERS Usurp the soil,
And sacred sloth consumes the peasant's toil :
The HOLY drones monopolize the sky,

And PLUNDER WHILE THEY PREACH OF POVERTY.
Oppression takes religion's cursed name,

And priestcraft knows to play the specious game.
Behold each enthusiastic fool,

Of ductile piety becomes their tool:

Observe with how much art, what fine pretence,
They hallow foppery and combat sense.
Or when some prelate with imperious hand,
Sends forth his edict to excise the land: