he world
deserveth God's wrath and damnation,' may be a liberal politician, one
well fitted to pilot his flock into the haven of true republicanism: but
the author is extremely suspicious of such persons, and would not on any
account place his liberty in their keeping. He has little faith in
political fanaticism, especially when in alliance with the frightful
doctrines enunciated from conventicle pulpits, and has no hesitation in
saying that Anti-State Church Associations do not touch the root of all
political evils. Their usefulness is great, because they give currency
to a sound principle, but that principle, though important, is not
all-important--though powerful, is not all-powerful. If universally
adopted, it is questionable that any useful change of a lasting
character would be worked in the economy of politics.

Priests of all religion are the same, said Dryden--the religions they
teach are false, and in their tendency anti-progressive, say Atheists,
who put no trust in doctrine which involves or assumes supernatural
existence. Believing that supernaturalism reduced to 'system' cannot be
other than 'wickedly political,' the Atheist, truly so called, sees no
hope for 'slave classes,' apart from a general diffusion of
anti-religious ideas. According to his theory, religion is in part a
cunningly and in part a stupidly devised fable. He cannot reconcile the
wisdom of theologians with undoubted facts, and though willing to admit
that some 'modes of faith' are less absurd than others, is convinced
they are all essentially alike, because all fundamentally erroneous.
Rousseau said 'philosophy can do nothing that religion cannot do better,
and religion can do many things which philosophy cannot do at all.' But
Atheists believe religion the most formidable evil with which
progressors have to cope, and see in philosophy that mighty agent in the
work of improvement so beautifully described by Curran as _the
irresistible genius of universal emancipation_.

Speculative thinkers of so decidedly irreligious a temper are not
numerous. If esteemed, as happens to certain commodities, in proportion
to their scarcity they would enjoy a large share of public respect.
Indeed, they are so few and far between, or at least so seldom make
their presence visible, that William Gillespie is convinced they are an
anomalous species of animal, produced by our common parent 'in a moment
of madness.' Other grave Christian writers, though horrifi