ing violence to another, is deterred from the execution, whilst he observes how the attempt affects his fellow, and knows by the very signs which accompany this rising motion, that if the inquiry be carried further, it will not pass easily, or with impunity. It is this passion withal, which after violence and hostility executed, rouses a creature in opposition, and assists him in returning like hostility and harm on the invader. For thus, as rage and despair increase, a creature grows still more terrible, and being urged to the greatest extremity, finds a degree of strength and boldness, unexperienced till then, and which had never risen except through the height of provocation. As to this affection, therefore, notwithstanding immediate aim be indeed the ill or punishment of another, yet it is plainly of the sort of those which tend to the advantage and interest of the self-system, the animal himself, and is withal in other respects contributing to the good and interest of the species. But there is hardly need we should explain how mischievous and self-destructive anger is, if it be what we commonly understand by that word: if it be such a passion as is rash, and violent in the instant of provocation; or such as imprints itself deeply, and causes a settled revenge, and an eager, vindictive pursuit.

The dormant fury, Revenge, being raised once, and wrought up to her highest pitch, rests not till she attains her end; and, that attained, is easy and reposes, making our succeeding relief and ease so much the more enjoyed as our preceding anguish and incumbent pain was of long duration and bitter sense. So, if among lovers, and in the language of gallantry, the success of ardent love is called the assuaging of a pain; this other success may be far more justly termed so. However soft or flattering the former pain may be esteemed, this latter surely can be no pleasing one; nor can it be possibly esteemed other than Sound and thorough wretchedness, a grating and disgustful feeling, without the least mixture of any thing soft, gentle, or agreeable.

What has been said, may be enough perhaps to make this evident, "That to be subject to such a passion as we have been mentioning, is, in reality, to be very unhappy." And," That the habit itself is a disease of the worst sort, from which misery is inseparable."

Now as to luxury, and what the world calls pleasure, were it true (as has been proved the contrary) that the most considerable enjoyments were those merely of the sense, and were it true, withal, that those enjoyments of the sense lay in certain outward things capable of yielding always to a due and certain portion of pleasure, according to their degree and quality-it would then follow, that the certain way to obtain happiness, would be to procure largely of these subjects, to which happiness and pleasure were thus infallibly annexed. But however fashionably we may

apply the notion of good living, it will hardly be found that our inward faculties are able to keep pace with these outward supplies of a luxuriant fortune.

It may be observed in those who by excess have gained a constant nauseating and distaste, that they have nevertheless as constant a craving or eagerness of stomach. But the appetite of this kind is false and unnatural, as is that of thirst arising from a fever, or contracted by habitual debauch. Now the satisfactions of the natural appetite, in a plain way, are infinitely beyond those indulgences of the most refined and elegant luxury. This is often perceived by the luxurious themselves. It has been experienced in people bred after the sumptuous way, and used never to wait, but to prevent appetite, that when by any new turn of life they come to fall into a more natural course, or for a while, as on a journey, or a day of sport, came accidentally to experience the sweets of a plain diet, recommended by due abstinence and exercise, they have with freedom owned, that it was then they received the highest satisfaction and delight which a table could possibly afford.

It is plain, that by urging nature, forcing the appetite, and inciting sense, the keenness of the natural sensations is lost. And though through vice or ill habit the same subjects of appetite may, every day, be sought with great ardour, they are enjoyed with less satisfaction. Though the impatience of abstaining be greater, the pleasure of indulgence is really less. The palls or nauseatings which continually intervene, are of the worst and most hateful kind of sensation. Hardly is there any thing tasted which is wholly free from this ill relish of a surfeited sense and ruined appetite. So that instead of a constant and flowing delight afforded in such a state of life, the very state itself is in reality a sickness and infirmity, a corruption of pleasure, and destructive of every natural and agreeable sensation. So far is it from being true, "That in this licentious course we enjoy life best, or are likely to make the most of it."

As to the consequences of such an indulgence, how fatal to the body, by diseases of many kinds, and to the mind by sottishness and stupidity; this needs not any explanation.

Such a

The consequences as to interest are plain enough. state of impotent and unrestrained desire, as it increases our wants, so it must subject us to a greater dependence on others. Our private circumstances, however plentiful or easy they may be, can less easily content us. Ways and means must be invented to procure what may administer to such an imperious luxury, as forces us to sacrifice honour to fortune, and runs us out into all irregularities and extravagance of conduct.

(To be continued.)

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

The Lion.

No. 7. VOL. 4.] LONDON, Friday, August 14, 1829. [PRICE 6d.

Liverpool, August 11, 1829.

WE left Bolton early on the morning of yesterday, after spending in it full twelve days. I visited Wigan on the 6th inst. and made arrangements for our public appearance there at any convenient time. Waiting in Bolton, for the convenience of having correspondences with other places, induced us to fill out a week after we had done with the theatre. It was not uselessly spent, if Time tell the tale, we mean it to tell, by our endeavours in the course of that week. That Bolton, which the world, unfairly conspires to call rude, has before been and has again been to me a sort of fairy land. The attractions in the house in which we lodged, would excuse a week's stay, beyond the pressure of business; but one of those romances of real life, which greatly add to the pleasures of a romantic spirit, befel us, and we have aimed to convert it to the world's good. There is a witch in Lancashire, who promises to assist us in unwitching the bewitched world. There is a lady in Bolton, whose personal, or whose mental charms are not mean but truly great, and who, by her prophets, the Infidel Missionaries, gives the world assurance that Miss Frances Wright shall not in this country long want an aspiring imitatress. We can say no more at present. And, with the mention of such an agreeable hope, I cannot at this moment draw that picture of the dark side of Lancashire, which is so very necessary to be done, and which will not be done by our newspaper reporters. Before, or soon after I leave the county, the public shall have such a picture of its wretchedness, as would shame any thing but a Christian; but the men who teach and preach the Christian religion, do here, in the midst of this wretchedness, this real starvation, teach and preach, that it is a

Printed and Published by R. CARLILE, 62, Fleet Street

No. 7.-Vol. 4.

disguised blessing for the humiliation and good of the soul! Horrid villains to mankind! There never were such criminals on earth before, as the preachers and teachers of the Christian religion.

Our circular challenge has been sent to the following preachers, in Liverpool :

In addition to the preachers, we shall, in this town, send a copy of our challenge to the Mayor and Magistrates, and to every public and influential person in it, and pledge our possession of such a case, as, if the attention be won, the conviction must inevitably follow.

We are told, that some Unitarian debaters about trinity in unity, who assemble in Hunter-street, intend to invite us to a discussion. As we have no faith wherewith to speculate; we confess, we have none in their promise. We heard them, last night, talking the most arrant nonsense about the unity of deity set forth in the scriptures; in which they were well answered by a Trinitarian, also on the scripture ground. Men will never cease to be fools, so long as they take revelations in scriptures for their guide, which have no warrant in the things known to exist, none beyond the insanity of mankind. We heard the Unitarian, F. B. Wright, attempt to ridicule the doctrine of the Trinity, by comparing it with the thirty thousand gods of the Pagan mythology. But I plead for the Pagans ;-THE MORE GODS, THE MORE REASON. The Unitarian, without a

personal devil, is the least reasonable being in the world. He cannot, on scripture ground, stand up in argument with the Unitarian with a devil. The Unitarian with a devil, on the same ground, has no chance with the Trinitarian. The Protestant cannot stand up before the Roman Catholic. The Roman Catholic cannot maintain his ground before the advocate of the Pagan religion. The Pagan falls before the scientific Infidel. The whole profession of religion is a corruption of Paganism, and can never become any thing but such a corruption.

The first principle of religion is a personification of a power, the source of which is not to be traced. One such a personification allowed, justifies every such that can be made: and hence the number of the Pagan gods increased with the increasing knowledge and genius of the Pagan world, which was, in its zenith, superior to any thing that has been found among Christians. The angels or genii of the Persians were but a corruption of the Pagan mythology. The angels and calendar of saints among Christians are but a continued corruption of the same mythology. The Pagans had a reason for, and a reasonable account to give of, every god among them. No Christian can show such a reason for any of the sanctified or deified objects of his adoration. The scale of the corruption of religion runs thus:-First Christians, Roman Catholics, Protestant Trinitarians, Unitarians. The little sect of Freethinking Christians is scarcely worth a mention. In or out of London it is hardly known. But it may be rated as the highest degree of corruption that has spaung up in the Christian church. The Israelites of Ashtonunder-Lyne have returned to the highest degree of consistency as Bible or scripture Christians. For a man to call himself a