stantly filling up its separate portions with all that is rich and various and exquisite. In a word, by the one I am told that the Almighty is now at work in regions more distant than geometry has ever measured, and among worlds more manifold than numbers have ever reached. But by the other I am also told, that with a mind to comprehend the whole, in the vast compass of its generality, He has also a mind to concentrate a close and a separate attention on each and on all of its particulars, and that the same God who sends forth an upholding influence among the orbs and the movements of astronomy, can fill the recesses of every single atom with the intimacy of His presence, and travail in all the greatness of His unimpaired attributes, upcn every one spot and corner of the universe He has formed. They, therefore, who think that God will not put forth such a power, and such a goodness, and such a condescension in behalf of this world, as are ascribed to Him in the New Testament, because He has so many other worlds to attend to, think of Him as a man. They confine their view to the informations of the telescope, and forget altogether the informations of the other instrument. They only find room in their minds for His one attribute of a large and general superintendence, and keep out of their remembrance the equally impressive proofs we have of His other attribute, of a minute and multiplied attention to all that diversity of operations where it is He that worketh all in all. And when I think that as one of the instruments of philosophy has heightened our every impression of the first of these attributes, so another instrument has no less heightened our impression of the second of them then I can no longer resist the conclusion, that it would be a transgression of sound argument, as well as a daring of impiety, to draw a limit around the doings of this unsearchable God-and should a professed revelation from Heaven tell me of an act of condescension in behalf of some separate world, so wonderful that angels desired to look into it, and the Eternal Son had to move from His seat of glory to carry it into accomplishment, all I ask is the evidence of such a revelation; for let it tell me as much as it may of God letting himself down for the benefit of one single province of His dominions, this is no more than what I see lying scattered in numberless examples before me, and running through the whole line of my recollections, and meeting me in every walk of obser

vation to which I can betake myself; and now that the microscope has unveiled the wonders of another region, I see strewed around me, with a profusion which baffles my every attempt to comprehend it, the evidence that there is no one portion of the universe of God too minute for His notice, or too humble for the visitations of His care.

The Devastation of Oude.

Had a stranger, at this time, gone into the province of Oude, ignorant of what had happened since the death of Sujah Dowla, that man, who, with a savage heart, had still great lines of character, and who, with all his ferocity in war, had still, with a cultivating hand, preserved to his country the riches which it derived from benignant skies and a prolific soil-if this stranger, ignorant of all that had happened in the short interval, and observing the wide and general devastation, and all the horrors of the scene of plains unclothed and brown-of vegetation burnt up and extinguished-of villages depopulated and in ruin -of temples unroofed and perishing-of reservoirs broken down and dry, he would naturally inquire what war had thus laid waste the fertile fields of this once beautiful and opulent country-what civil dissensions have happened, thus to tear asunder and separate the happy societies that once possessed those villages-what disputed succession-what religious rage has, with unholy violence, demolished those temples, and disturbed fervent but unobtruding piety in the exercise of its duties? What merciless enemy has thus spread the horrors of fire and sword-what severe visitation of providence has dried up the fountain, and taken from the face of the earth every vestige of verdure? Or rather, what monsters have stalked over the country, tainting and poisoning, with pestiferous breath, what the voracious appetite could not devour? To such questions, what must be the answer? No wars have ravaged these lands and depopulated these villages-no civil discord has been felt-no disputed succession-no religious rage—no cruel enemy—no affliction of providence, which, while it scourged for the moment, cut off the sources of resuscitation-no voracious and poisoning monsters-no, all this has been accomplished by the friendship, generosity, and kindness of the English nation. They have embraced us with their protecting arms, and lo! those are the fruits of their alliance. What, then, shall we be

told that, under such circumstances, the exasperated feelings of a whole people thus goaded and spurred on to clamour and resistance were excited by the poor and feeble influence of the Begums? When we hear the description of the paroxysm, fever, and delirium, into which despair had thrown the natives, when on the banks of the polluted Ganges, panting for death, they tore more widely open the lips of their gaping wounds, to accelerate their dissolution, and while their blood was issuing, presented their ghastly eyes to heaven, breathing their last and fervent prayer that the dry earth might not be suffered to drink their blood, but that it might rise up to the throne of God, and rouse the eternal Providence to avenge the wrongs of their country, will it be said that this was brought about by the incantations of these Begums in their secluded Zenana ? or that they could inspire this enthusiasm and this despair into the breasts of a people who felt no grievance, and had suffered no torture? What motive, then, could have such influence in their bosoms? What motive? That which nature, the common parent, plants in the bosom of man, and which, though it may be less active in the Indian than in the Englishman, is still congenial with and makes a part of his being that feeling which tells him that man was never made to be the property of man; but that, when, through pride and insolence of power, one human creature dares to tyrannize over another, it is a power usurped, and resistance is a duty-that feeling which tells him that all power is delegated for the good, not for the injury of the people; and that, when it is converted from the original purpose, the compact is broken, and the right is to be resumed

that principle which tells him that resistance to power usurped is not merely a duty which he owes to himself and to his neighbour, but a duty which he owes to his God, in asserting and maintaining the rank which He gave him in the creation!—to that common God, who, where he gives the form of man, whatever may be the complexion, gives also the feelings and the rights of man-that principle, which neither the rudeness of ignorance can stifle, nor the enervation of refinement extinguish !—that principle which makes it base for a man to suffer when he ought to act: which, tending to preserve to the species the original designations of Providence, spurns at the arrogant distinctions of man, and vindicates the independent quality of his race.

Speech on the Outbreak of Hostilities with China; Delivered in the House of Commons (1857).

W. E. GLADSTONE.

There is not war with China. No, Sir, there is not war with China, but what is there? There is hostility. There is bloodshed. There is a trampling down of the weak by the strong. There is the terrible and abominable retaliation of the weak upon the strong. You are occupied in this House by revolting and harrowing details about a Chinese baker, who poisoned bread,-by proclamations for the capture of British heads, and the waylaying of a postal steamer. And these things you think strengthen your case, Why, they deepen your guilt. War taken at the best is a frightful scourge to the human race; but because it is so, the wisdom of ages has surrounded it with strict laws and usages, and has required formalities to be observed, which shall act as a curb upon the wild passions of man, to prevent that scouge from being let loose, unless under circumstances of full deliberation and from absolute necessity. You have dispensed with all these precautions, You have turned a consul into a diplomatist, and that metamorphosed consul is, forsooth, to be at liberty to direct the whole might of England against the head of a defenceless people. While war is a scourge and a curse to man, it is yet attended with certain compensations. It is attended with acts of heroic self-sacrifice and of unbounded daring. It is ennobled by a consciousness that you are meeting equals in the field, and that while you challenge the issue of life or death, you at least enter into a fair encounter. But you go to China and make war upon those who stand before you as women or children. And what do these people, who are as mere women and children, when you make war upon them? They resort to those miserable and detestable contrivances which their weakness teaches them. It is not the first time in the history of the world. Have you never read of those rebellions of the slaves, which have risen to the dignity of being called wars, and which stand recorded in history as the servile wars? And is it not notorious that among all the wars upon record these have been the most

terrible, ferocious, and destructive? And why? Because those who have been trampled upon, adopt in their turn the practices of their oppressors. And that is the character of the war which we are prosecuting in China, Every account that we shall read in the journals or hear recited in this House, will tell of calamity heaped upon calamity, and of cruelty heaped upon cruelty.

But I find an appeal has been made to this House which appears to me to be a false and illegitimate appeal. It is an appeal to fear, which is seldom a rightful and noble sentiment; and it is to that fear which is the basis of the worst kind of fear-the fear of being thought afraid. The Government are afraid of the mischievous impression that will be produced upon the Chinese, if the acts of our officials are disavowed. Sir, let us consider fairly, impartially, and at large, the moral impressions that must be produced. Let us weigh the evil upon one side and the other, and I have no fear for the result. Hereafter we shall be told by the noble lord, of the wise caution that we ought to display, of the solemn predicament in which we are placed, of the political mischief which may ensue. Shadowy pictures will be drawn of the dangers, the confusion, the weakness, and paralysis of British power in the East. But what is the foundation of British power in the East-what is the foundation of the promise to be permanent and useful of that British power? It is not now a question as if the Chinese are alone concerned, for the debate has been prolonged night after night, and your words have gone throughout the whole earth. The confessions and avowals of the supporters of the Government have been, it appears to me, perfectly fatal either to the continuance of that policy, or else to the character and fame of England. You talk of the consequences, and talk of injustice, and then say that we must go on with that injustice. When you speak of the necessity of applying the law of force to the Chinese, and that it is by force that your influence must spread, I am bound to admit, and I do admit, that you have not power to prevent the language of this debate from being read. The opponents of the resolution of my hon. friend, have not generally ascended to the height of boldness. Few have