parallel and every where preserves its original position; and it is but in a very few places that any considerable subterraneous rivers of water have been discovered."

These objections have an appearance of soundness, which, I think, will vanish upon examination. That there is a subterraneous running of water is a fact, but the course is seldom far-it is water descending in a more shelving manner than that of rivers; the obstacles opposed to the lattes are trifling compared with the former. Water, from its aptitude to obey the laws of gravity, insinuates itself into every fissure, and consequently will be constantly following the laws. We do not often meet with great bodies of subterraneous waters, because the suspicion of their existence, supposes they are too deeply situated to be often met with. In countries that are seldom visited with rain, we search in vain for water. This I think, is a proof that it was not originally distributed in the interior of the earth, but that rain has been the cause of its distribution.

Another objection is, that the water on the surface of the globe cannot have been so elevated as the tops of some of the Andes and Blue Mountains. This objection, only can be answered by supposing an immense compression of many parts of the earth, and a consequent falling of the waters; but would not the mountains in the course of their formation, also have obeyed the laws of gravity. Buffon does not, at the termination of his examination of the Theories of Burnet, Whiston, and Woodward, attempt to account for the waters being so much below the heights of mountains, “There is no natural cause," he says, "which can produce on the whole surface of the earth, the quantity of water required to cover the highest mountain." He however implies, although most probably unknowingly, that the water not only recedes from East to West but from West to East, which is a confesssion of the sea's diminution. He says, "That the most ancient lands are Arabia, Felix and Deserta, Persia, Georgia, Turcomania, part of Tartary, Circassia, part of Muscovy, and that consequently Europe, and perhaps also China, and the Eastern part of Tartary are the most modern." Unless a falling of the Ocean be admitted, this is a flat contradiction to his Theory.

"Why should we suppose that the parts near the centre are denser than those which are remote?"

May we not, from the knowledge of density being operated by gravity, with reason conjecture that the interior is dense in proportion to depth. Does the centrifugal motion oppose contraction?

JOURNAL OF MR. CARLILE'S TOUR THROUGH THE COUNTRY.

THIS journal is not intended to be a notice of breakfastings, dinners, and suppers, of hills and dales, of rivers and canals, of stage coaches, horses, and inns, of theatres, and public buildings, of

* Welch in his Religiosa Philosophia, dedicated to Sir Humphrey Davy, conceives that water produces solids; that the globe was formerly a body of water. It is certain that plants, &c. receive more from water than they return at decomposition; but it is seen that this question involves the inscrutable operation of regeneration. We know the component parts of water, and also know it is folly to assert that water alone can be converted to other substance than ice.

days, hours, and minutes; but the journalist moves for the purpose of agitating the public mind, to examine it, and, as far as possible to improve it and to get improved by it. To this end, he will devote all the time that he can spare from his business in town, progressively and repeatedly making a tour of the country, preaching, where a convenient place can be found wherein to assemble a congregation, and discussing various topics, where competent persons can be found to discuss with him. Almost throughout the past year, the state of his health, having been much crippled with rheumatic affections in the feet, has been an impediment to his exertions; but some good has been done; much of the prejudice which has arisen from calumny toward the journalist has been removed, and an extension of a right understanding as to his real motives and character has been made. His great object is to bring about a better knowledge of the various subjects that form matters of dispute among mankind, to bring man nearer to his fellow-man, to discourage the hostility that arises from bad feeling, and to show that men every where agree as far as their knowledge extends, and that, their disagreement begins, when they speculate beyond the point at which their knowledge ends. They agree about what they do know, and only disagree about what they do not know. This first principle once rightly understood, men begin to see the propriety of ceasing to impute bad motives to their opponents; they see that disputes arise from ignorance, and not from bad motive; and they are ready to hold out their right hands in good fellowship, and to ask for mutual instruction. There is a ground for unanimity among mankind, one at least that shall break up every kind of sectarian dispute; and that ground is for each to catechise himself as to what he really doth know, and as to what he doth not know. The extension of knowledge is the ground for unanimity; beyond that extension, let us become humble enquirers, rather than fierce disputants. It is a folly to be angry where both are ignorant: and if either has knowledge upon the subject, he will not be angry, he will explain and communicate that knowledge mildly; he will feel strength in his confidence, and triumph in his better informed and corrected feeling. I cannot afford to be angry or impudent, is an expression that I have often, of late, had to use towards my religious opponents; I can afford to be converted, if you have superior argument. In some instances, to dull discernment, my mildness and easiness has been counted as defeat; and, in many, I have been suspected in the country as not being the "CARLILE" whom calumny and prejudice have painted to the weak imagination as a ruffian, a monster, and some very ill-looking old man. Oh! they have cried, you are so young, you cannot be Carlile; you are not very ugly, you cannot be Carlile; you are so mild, you cannot be the ruffian Carlile; you are rather a calm and placid looking being,

you cannot be the monster Carlile. Such is the effect of calumny and such the power of prejudice! Could a black being have been found with the red glaring eye, with a tail and a forked end, with talons instead of fingers, and hoofs instead of toes, that would have made a Carlile suitable to many diseased imaginations! How strange it is, that weak minds should be so anxious to have a devil that may frighten them!

Recovering from a severe winter's illness, I went to Bath about the middle of March last. I found there many warm-hearted friends, increasing in number with my stay, which I have also found to be the case in every other town that I have visited. Where I have had no previously well-known friends, I have been scrupulous and diffident about first introductions, taking care not to be deemed intrusive, not to trespass upon the fears of the timid. I won the esteem of a few females in Bath, who, but a short time before my visit, were very charitably disposed to assist in burning me. They wondered what had been the matter with them, and whence the prejudice had arisen, on finding that I was really a passable fellow, and such as no woman had any reason to be frightened about. One, in particular, who, for years, had never uttered, nor heard my name uttered, without throwing out the most vehement reproaches, upon it, on hearing that I was in Bath, exclaimed, "Well, after all, I should like to see him." Had she felt her prejudices to have been well founded, she would not have thus exclaimed. Hers was the prejudice of the passion of superstition, and not of the reason; and when that prejudice is brought fairly into contact with its object, it flies, it is not terrible, it is felt not to be well-founded. Two young women, in Bath, boldly and anxiously expressed a wish, to come to my shop in London and bear a prosecution, in case there were more brought forward. I was surprised but pleased with the offer, and particularly with the manner in which it was made. It was not made with a feeling of gaiety, airiness, or indifference; but with a sedate philosophical feeling. There was a married woman, who joined these young volunteers; but, though I was delighted with the very kind and hospitable reception that I received from her and her husband, I could not feel a claim upon her, as upon the young ones, who had, unfortunately, not yet husbands or children to leave. If matchmaking between the sexes were not so delicate a matter, I should be most happily employed in making matches for all the unmarried young women in the country. I have had some com

missions in this line; but, as yet, I never dared to execute one! I am not a Malthusian, as Mr. Cobbett has falsely represented me to be. Loving, as I do every agreeable woman, I share their happiness, in seeing them early and happily married. I declare in the face of the whole sex, that I have not one desire that is hostile to their increased happiness. In relation to present customs, only desire alteration where amendment is most clearly

necessary. Love is properly an affair of sentiment and honor, and I would have nothing compulsory or ignorant about it, I would have it entirely free and intelligent. Mr. Cobbett does not understand the subject on which he has so vituperatively written. The tyranny of old age grows upon him, and as Rochefoucault has admirably observed in such a case, he would forbid the pleasures of youth under the pain of death. His irritability grows with his dotage, he substitutes the most impregnable conceit for what others see to be a want of knowledge; and his friends express alarm for the probable early consequences of his present excited and enervated state of mind and body. His day is past. He has long ceased to be useful. Let us rather pity than condemn his present wanderings and bad prospects.

In Bath, I had no public discussion, no public company. I was there rather as an invalid than as a public character. Some private conversations that I had were very agreeable, and I found one gentleman profoundly deep in human economy and its politics, with whom, again, I very much desire to converse. I found a fierce controversy going on there upon the never-to-be-settled points of liberty or necessity. It was a revival of the debate, without a revival of, or reference to, the talent that had formerly been associated with it. Mr. Baker, one of the disputants, on the side of necessity, was so far enthusiastical upon the subject, as to expend a few pounds in advertisements and pamphlets, and thus the subject appears to have ended, without any one being the wiser. I wish they would discuss more useful questions. The advocate for liberty says, that man has a choice in his actions. The advocate for necessity steps behind him, and says, your choice is regulated or necessitated by a motive. Thus the subject ends, and where superstition is associated with it, as was the case at Bath, on both sides, it had better not have been commenced.

BRISTOL.

The transition from Bath to Bristol is short and easy; and here again I fell into some very agreeable and very intelligent company. I was entertained for a week in a very respectable family, to which my wandering mind often returns with pleasing reflections, and the more particularly so now, since I have "to book that visit." This last expression will raise a smile in the family, and I can only regret that I do not feel at liberty to be more particular in booking the good treatment that I have received from so many agreeable ladies, so many "good wives."

In Bristol, I found a much more extensively inquisitive spirit, a much higher degree of thirst for knowledge, among the young men, than I had hoped or expected to find in that city. If the "Society of Inquirers" would not be so timid as to exclude almost all useful enquiry, it may become eminently useful. The questions, I presume, are voted; if so, it will always remain with

the majority what are the best questions; so that predetermined exclusion is most improper. The public principle of inquiry is as yet very much limited. I desire and will labour to make it unlimited, assured that public good will extend with the extension of enquiry. I would urge on the young men of Bristol to unlimited enquiry. Wear no shackles. At least, do not fasten them on yourselves. The mind, that can range without restraint, ranges happily and usefully. It pains me to see restraint dwelling on so many faces. Though free myself, I desire more. I desire to see others free. Their restraint reflects upon me. I feel their shackles. They goad me. There is a liberty that does not belong exclusively to the individual, it must be partaken of with others, it must be had in common, it is the liberty of free enquiry: the liberty of free debate: not only of free thought, but of free speech. I would be free on this head; but I am not sufficiently free; because I cannot bring others up to my state of mental freedom. In looking at the state of the public mind, we must not judge the aggregate by individuals. Individual mind may be eminent, while the aggregate may be very dull. The freedom of a nation must be estimated by the aggregate of its mind. There is freedom in England and in the United States of North America, because there is an aggregate of mind; but there is no freedom in Spain, Portugal, or Italy, nor in any country where the religion is powerful and exclusive, such as that of the Roman Catholic. Were Ireland at once separated from, and independent of, the government of England, it would possess but little of national freedom, or that kind of freedom which is made up of the socially and the individually inquisitive character of man. The Roman Catholic Priests would suppress the enquiry, which they now in their humbled state profess to encourage. There would then be no Catholic Association, with its red-hot speeches, and its leader counting the value of the time which he expends in attending it. Of all the items in political or patriotic expenses, Mr. O'Connel's thousand pounds worth of time per year to the Catholics, is the most preposterous. A man, who held a modest assurance of being publicly useful, could not have made such a mention.

I have wandered in mind from Bristol to Dublin! The touring of the body is but a slow and trifling concern, when contrasted with the touring and towering of the mind. The motions of the mind are the most rapid motions yet discovered. So I will, in an instant, fly back to Bristol.

I called on, after exchanging a note with the Rev. William Wait, of King's-square, Bristol. We had exchanged some correspondence from the time of my going to Dorchester Gaol, and he had visited me in the gaol, and left me an invitation to call on him if I came to Bristol. This gentleman is one of the Evangelicals of the Established Church. I apprised him of the rapid progress my principles were making in Bristol, and of my