and polytheists. There is a point in human nature where moral distinctions do not appear, as on the earth there are spots where the compass will not traverse, and dens where the sun never shines. This fact is little dwelt on by philosophers; still it is a fact. Seen from this point, Right and Wrong lose their distinctive character and run into each other. Good seems Evil and Evil Good, or both appear the same. The sophistry of the understanding sometimes leagues with appetite, and gradually entices the thoughtless into this pit. The Antinomian of all times turns in thither, to increase his Faith and diminish his Works. It is the very cave of Trophonius; he that enters loses his manhood and walks backward as he returns; his soul, so filled with God, whatever the flesh does, he thinks cannot be wrong, though it break all laws, human and divine. The fanatic dwells continually in this state. God demands of him to persecute his foes. The thought troubles him by day, and stares on him as a spectre at night. God, or his angel, appear to his crazed fancy and bid him to the work with promise of reward, or spurs him with a curse. Then there is no lie too malignant for him to invent and utter; no curse too awful for him to imprecate; no refinement of torture too cruel or exquisitely rending for his fancy to devise, his malice to inflict; Nature is teased for new tortures; Art is racked to extort fresh engines of cruelty. As the jaded Roman offered a reward for the invention of a new pleasure, so the fanatic would renounce Heaven could he give an added pang to hell.
Men of this character have played so great a part in the world's history, they must not be passed over in silence. The ashes of the innocents they have burned, are sown broadcast and abundant in all lands. The earth is quick with this living dust. The blood of prophets and saviours they have shed still cries for justice. The Canaanites, the Jews, the Saracen, the Christian, Polytheist and Idolater, New Zealand and New England, are guilty of this. Let the early Christian and the delaying Heathen tell their tale. Let the voice of the Heretic speak from the dungeon-racks of the Inquisition; that of the “true believer" from the scaffolds of Elizabeth—most Christian Queen; let the voices of the murdered come up from the squares of Paris, the plains of the Low Countries, from the streets of Antioch, Byzantium,
