Correspondence.

Coventry, June 1st, 1850. DEAR SIR,-While reading the "Passion and Crucifixion, &c.," in your "Critical Exegesis of Gospel History" in your Journal, I found a difference between the texts of the Protestant and Catholic Bibles respecting Judas's death and the Potter's Field. They are as follows:(Acts, Ich, 18v.)

"And he" (Judas) "hath possessed a fiel! of the reward of iniquity, and being hanged burst asunder in the midst; and all his bowels gushed out."

"Now this man" (Judas) "purchased a field with the reward of iniquity; and falling headlong he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out." I cannot understand the Catholic version where it says, “and being hanged.” If you can explain it to me you will much oblige.

Yours respectfully, EDWARD J. TURNER [Answering from Newcastle, I cannot turn to a copy of the Roman Catholic version. I can only say that the Greek does not say "being hanged.' The words have been inserted, most likely to make Acts accord with Matthew. I wish the correspondent had intimated whether the words ‘being hanged,' in the Catholic version, are not in italics.—T. C. ]

72, Broadwall, Blackfriars' Road, May 29th. SIR, You appear to me, one, anxious to controvert error, and to establish truth, and therefore, I beg to ask of you to furnish me with an answer to the following enquiry.

Why the Jews, dispersed as they are throughout most known countries, and tenacions of their old religion, still remain a distinct people, notwithstanding the various difficulties, and persecutions through which they have passed? They have always appeared to my mind as living witnesses of the divine origin of Christianity. If you can satisfactorily confute this idea, I shall then perhaps, be disposed to view the Christian religion as a “ cunningly devised fable," and a "pernicious and debasing superstition."

Yours with respect, JOHN CLARK.

[Mr. Clark must not expect me to attempt to satisfactorily confute' any idea,—in order to dispose him to view the Christian religion' in the light he describes. I neither believe the religion itself to be 'cunningly devised,' or a 'pernicious and debasing superstition,'-nor de I regard the fables which have been attached to the religion as 'cunningly devised :' they are too artless to come under that character.

The question he asks is often represented as a formidable one; but a little reflection will reduce the apparent difficulty. 1. The Jews are not the only tribe which are 'dispersed and 'still remain a distinct people.' Among others, the Gypsies may be mentioned, who, though now few in this country, are numerous in Spain, Hungary, Russia, &c., and have a commer language. George Borrow's book will inform Mr. Clark of this. 2. The Jews are not so 'tenacious of their old religion,' as some divines in sweeping terms represent them to be. Where are their sacrifices? The civilised world has shamed the Jews out of them. And the same may be affirmed of many other ceremonies which they have laid aside. 3. The Jews are not so distinct' a people where they have been allowed to possess land, as in Poland. The Polish Jew is as passionately patriotic and attached to Poland, as the Sclavonic Pole. 4. 'Persecution' itself, solves the main difficulty raised. It is persecution which keeps the Jew 'distinct,'-just as persecution causes the poor Irish to cling the closer to Catholicism,—just as the burning of the Martyrs in the reign of Mary caused the English people, who were then chiefly Catholic, to embrace Protestantism, or assisted them so to do. Examples might be multiplied.—T. C.]

To Correspondents.

*Correspondents will please address "Thomas Cooper, at Mr. Barlow's, bookseller, 2, Nelson Street, Newcastle-on-Tyne"-until June 23rd.

H. R. N. and J. A. L. Their communications are thankfully received, and shall appear

very soon.

Young Labourer." The Sonnets of Petrarch have been translated several times; but I really cannot inform him where they are to be had, until I reach home again.

R. H. H. Uxbridge. His communication shall be inserted so soon as there is room for it. "A Radical." I admire his plainness; but I am too dull to see the full force of his objections to the passages he alludes to.

W. J. O. He must excuse my answers, at present. We will talk about these things, when I return to Town.

George Mart, junior. I am not troubled, but pleased, to receive his questions, and will answer all of them, if he will introduce himself to me when I reach the Potteries, in my way home. I cannot, at present, state the time I expect to be there;, but will do so, very soon.

THINKINGS FROM JEREMY BENTHAM.

THE PRINCIPLE OF UTILITY.-By the principle of utility is meant that principle which approves or disapproves of every action whatsoever, according to the tendency which it appears to have to augment or diminish the happiness of the party whose interest is in question; or, what is the same thing in other words, to promote or to oppose that happiness. I say of every action whatsoever; and, therefore, not only of every action of a private individual, but of every measure of government.

LOVE OF HAVING THE LAST WORD.-Some men have a failing which is a source of great annoyance to others, and for which they pay the penalty by making the conversation less agreeable, and even at times making their conversation intolerable; it is the habit of stickling for the final word. Right or wrong in the controversy, subdued or victorious, there are persons who insist on exercising the petty and vexatious despotism of uttering the last sentence that is uttered. This disposition is the out-break of pride in a very offensive shape. It is the usurpation of dominion over the self-love of other men, on a ground where men are ordinarily most sensitive. It is, in fact, a determination to humiliate him with whom you have been holding intercourse-to humiliate him, not by the success of an irresistible argument, but by an intrusion of a tyrannic power. Avoid then the act, lest the act should create the habit; and if the habit exist, extra-regarding prudence requires that it should be got rid of. Watch yourself, and inquire of any friend on whose sincerity you can rely-inquire, if you are quite sure you will not be hurt by his reply, whether the infirmity is exhibited by, or has been observed in you; and if it be, correct the infirmity.

A SAGE'S OPINION OF OATHS.-The oaths and other engagements with which the statute book swarms, are with few, if any exceptions, a great deal worse than useless. Either they have an exclusionary effect; or by their emptiness, and looseness, they afford to those who have taken them, t'ae pretence of acting under a sense of obligation, while no such sense is in their hearts. Hear a judge talk of his oath? What is that oath? A piece of old woman's tattle that is never seen by any body, means nothing, and has nothing in it which has any tendency to bind any body. Oh, yes! one thing it has; and that is a promise never to take money fee of any body. But this he breaks in the face of the day, and most days of his life. And thus it is, that, in the teeth of Magna Charta, he denies justice to all but the rich, and makes them pay for it!

EDUCATION. On this subject, as most others, strange notions have been entertained in the world—that nothing in a mind is better than anything; or, that if something must be there, that something is better supplied by chance than by design, as if fortune were wisdom's surest guide. But, "nothing" will not keep its hold in any mind. Be it as it may with space, nature endures no vacuum in minds. The mind is a field, in which, so sure as man sows not wheat, so sure will the devil be to sow tares. Another strang'e notion, if another it may be termed, which has been entertained-as if there were a repugnancy between morality and letters, as if the health of the affections and inoral faculties depended, in this rank of life more than any other, upon a morbid state of the intellectual-letters, it has been said, may be an instrument of fraud; so may bread, if discharged from the mouth of a cannon, be an instrument of death.

NO INNOVATION.-To say all new things are bad, or at any event, at their commencement; for of all the old things ever seen or heard of there is not one that was not once new. Whatever is now establishment was once innovation. He who on this ground condemns a proposed measure, condemns in the same breath whatsoever he would be most adverse to be thought to disapprove.-He condemns the Revolution, the Reformation, the assumption made by the House of Commons of a part in the penning of the laws in the reign of Henry VI., the institution of the House of Commons itself in the reign of Henry III.; all these he bids us regard as the sure forerunners of the monster Anarchy, but particularly the birth and first efficient agency of the House of Commons; an innovation, in comparison of which all others, past or future, are for efficiency, and consequently mischievous. ness, but as grains of dust in the balance.

SONG OF THE RED REPUBLICAN.

Ay, tyrants, build your bulwarks! forge your fetters! link your chains!
As brims your guilt-cup fuller, our's of grief runs to the drains:
Still, as on Christ's brow, crowns of thorn for Freedom's martyrs twine,-
Still batten on live hearts, and madden o'er the hot blood-wine!
Murder men sleeping; or awake-torture them dumb with pain,
And tear with hands all bloody-red Mind's jewels from the brain!
Your feet are on us, tyrants: strike, and hush Earth's wail of sorrow!
Your sword of power, so red to-day, shall kiss the dust to-morrow!
Oh, but 'twill be a merry day, the world shall set apart,
When Strife's last sword is broken in the last crown'd pauper's heart!
And it shall come-despite of rifle, rope, and rack, and scaffold:
Once more we lift the earnest brow, and battle on unbaffled!
Alas! the hopes that have gone down, the young life vainly spilt,
Th' Eternal Murder still sits crown'd and thron'd in damning guilt!
Still in God's golden sun the tyrants' bloody banner burns;
And priests-Hell's midnight bravoes-desecrate Rome's patriot urns!
See how th' oppressors of the poor with serpents hunt our blood!
Hear from the dark the groan and curse go madd'ning up to God!
They kill and trample us poor worms till Earth is dead men's dust;
Death's red tooth daily drains our hearts; but end-ay, end it must!
The herald of our coming Christ leaps in the womb of Time;
The poor's grand army treads the Age's march with step sublime!
Our's is the mighty Future, and what marvel, brother men,

If the devoured of ages should turn devourers, then?

Our hopes ran mountains high,-we sung at heart,-wept tears of gladness,-
When France, the bravely beautiful, dash'd down her sceptred madness;
And Hungary her one hearted race of mighty heroes hurled

In the death-gap of the nations, as a bulwark for the world!

Oh, Hungary-gallant Hungary--proud and glorious thou wert,

Feeding the world's soul like a river gushing from God's heart!

And Rome-where Freedom's heroes bled, to make her breast beat higher,
How her eyes redden'd with the flash of her ancestral fire!

Mothers of children, who shall live the gods of future story—

Your blood shall blossom from the dust, and crown the world with glory!
We'll tread them down yet-curse and crown, Czar, Kaizer, King, and Slave;

And Mind shall lord it in the court of high-throned fool and knave!

Oh, brothers of the bounding heart! I look thro' tears and smile;
Our land is rife with sound of fetters snapping 'neath the file;

I lay my hand on England's heart, and in each life-throb mark

The pealing thought of freedom ring its tocsin in the dark!

I see the toiler hath become a glorious, Christ-like preacher,
And as he wins a crust shines proudly forth the great world-teacher;
Still he toils on; but, tyrant, 'tis a mighty thing when slaves,
Who delve their lives into their work, know that they dig your graves!
Anarchs, your doom comes swiftly, brave and eagle spirits climb

To ring Oppression's thunder knell from the watch-towers of time!

A spirit of Cromwellian might is stirring at this hour;

And thought burns eloquent in men's eyes with more than speechful power!

Old England, cease the mummer's part! wake starveling, serf and slave!
Rouse, in the majesty of wrong, great kindred of the brave!

Speak, and the world shall answer with her voices myriad-fold;

And men, like gods, shall grapple with the giant wrongs of old!

Now, mothers of the people, give your babes heroic milk!

Sires, soul your sons to daring deeds: no more soft words of silk!
Great spirits of the heaven-homed Dead-take shape, and walk our mind!
Their glory smites our upward look: we seem no longer blind!
They tell us how they broke their bonds, and whisper" so may ye!"
One sharp, stern struggle, and the slaves of centuries are free!
The people's heart, with pulse like cannon, panteth for the fray!
And brothers, gallant brothers! we'll be with you in that day!

GERALD MASSEY.

BELIEF. I am not afraid of those tender and scrupulous consciences, who are ever cautious of professing and believing too much; if they are sincerely in the wrong, I forgive their errors, and respect their integrity. The men I am afraid of, are the men who believe every thing, subscribe to every thing, and vote for every thing.-Bishop Shipley.

THE DEMON OF DESPOTISM.

AN ALLEGORIC HISTORY.

BY RICHARD OTLEY.

(Continued from last number.)

At length, the moon sunk below the western horizon, and that glorious luminary the sun was absent; when indulging in a reverie on the future, I seated myself in one of the deepest and gloomiest shadows of one of earth's highest mountains. "What," I soliloquised, "will be the destiny of this newly discovered race? What are their capabilities, what their motives of action? Will their governing principles be love or hatred; harmony and peace, or strife and war?" Doubt, anxious doubt, moved my soul; hope, not bright and cheering, but like the solitary rays of the sun, darting through the murky clouds of one of winter's gloomiest, wildest days, alternately illuminated or threw darker shades over the boundless vista of the future. Whilst I thus sat brooding over the future destinies of man, light--dim and feebleskirted the eastern heavens; gradually but slowly it increased, until first the verge, then the broad disk of the sun showed itself, and he moved in his godlike march towards the zenith. The new race bowed towards the east, and paid adoration to the ascending divinity; incense ascended from the tops of the mountains; altars were erected on the hills, and in the forests; the blood of victims was shed; the moans of these victims, the shouts of the approving multitude, the veneration paid to man by man,-these are, must be, and will be, the triumphant powers, mutually acting in the minds of men, for the creation and perpetuation of tyranny and despotism. "Thus," I exclaimed, "shall I reign!"

"Fear! What is that? The elements only warred; and yet men bow and beseech;—they pray, they sacrifice! This feeling in this weak race, is omnipotent for evil. The lamb, the ox, fall first; other sacrifices must and will follow, and I must have supremacy on earth. In whom? Where? How?" Thus thoughts crowded upon thoughts in quick succession; and all nature responded, "Over man himself. The priest first, the tyrant afterwards!" Day and night rolled on, season succeeded season; men multiplied upon the earth; the priests assembled, assumed a sanctity and authority, seized upon the fears of the people, contemplated the motions and influences of the heavenly bodies, believed, or pretended to believe, that these ruled the destinies of the human family; called them gods; instituted rites and forms of worship; adored, towards the east in the morning and west in the evening, the rising and setting Lord of the heavenly hosts; and thus man universally fell into my power, and I arose supreme over his destinies, and became absolute; and his happiness or misery now hangs upon my fiat!

In the deep caverns of the earth, in the gloom and solitude of the woods and forests, the priests assembled, and devoted themselves to meditation and worship. The lust of power, the ambition to govern, became their ruling passion. I fanned the spark until it grew into a volcano. I nurtured the germ until it increased and spread out its branches over the surface of the earth, until kings, princes, and priests reposed under its shade. Soon the work of mystery commenced. Ignorant of the influences of the elements, every good, every disaster, was traced to the gods. The swamps and marshes on the great plains of the earth sent forth fatal effluvia; the sun shone through a false and illusive medium; the air was filled with pestilence; men looked pale in their countenances the impress of the fear of death; they drooped and sunk into

the earth! Death was in every home. Except the moanings and lamentations of the dying, there was stillness and silence abroad, not even a breath of air moved over the surface of the earth: men disappeared, sunk in the ocean of time, and were known no more, for ever. The priests proclaim that the supreme divinity is offended, sacrifices are demanded, that which is most valued and loved of men, must be a voluntary offering to the gods. These priests looked gloomy, walked with an air of sacred mystery; clothed themselves in symbolical attire; called a conclave for grave consultation, and then proclaimed that the daughter of a king must be the salvation of the people.

In this I congratulated myself, in having partially consummated a masterly stroke of policy. The manacles of bondage were now firmly rivetted on the deluded human race. "This," I exclaimed, "is the triumph of the Demon of Despotism!" The morning was gloomy, but not clouded; the sun shone, but his light was lurid and the air hazy. The multitude was assembled. The place selected was a grove of oaks; a rude procession was formed; a number of priests clothed in yellow preceded; after these followed unskilled musicians beating drums and timbrels; behind these was seen a tall majestic female, clothed in long flowing robes of white; her countenance deathly pale, her young soul quivered on her lips; the multitude gave a shout of joy, but a tear stole silently down the cheeks of the innocent victim. Near the devoted maiden, when the procession had reached the grove of oaks, stood the aged parent. He was tall and stately in his person; his painful duty was to hand the human victim to the priest. When he took the hand of his devoted daughter, it slightly trembled, his eyes were suffused with tears, a deep but suppressed sigh heaved from his heart. He then folded his arms, and watched the holy rite, with a stern fixedness of purpose depicted in his wild look and unm oved countenance. The high-priest uncovered the bosom of the young woman; she stood before him the emblem of beauty and innocence; he muttered a prayer to the Lord of heaven, the Sun; a gloomy sternness spread itself over his features; he raised the knife; it descended directly to the heart of the victim; she fell struggling on the altar, breathing out her pure soul a sacrifice for the people. This religious sacrifice effectually established the spiritual and political despotism of the priesthood. When I beheld this I laughed, in mockery and scorn, over the future destinies of

man.

A few days after this event, the winds blew in all the fury of the tempest,-action gave purity to the air,-the purity of the air health to the human being. This was attributed to the mysterious interference of some deity. The priesthood seized upon the auspicious event, proclaimed the love and mercy of this benevolent divinity, though they omitted to instruct the people that if this Being had the power to remove, he had also the power to prevent, this calamity, which would have been a much more godlike display of love and mercy.

Having succeeded in my design, with a joyous exultation, I prepared for, and entered upon, new adventure s. "This proud race imagine," I said, "that they are created in the im age of Good or God. I will transform them into evil beings. One porticon shall be filled with pride, they shall glory in false and worthless dignities and grandeur; the other and the greater portion shall be poor mental imbeciles, shall bow down to shadows and pray to nonentities. But whith er shall I wing my way? It is morning; how pure and pellucid is the light! 11ow rapid its motion! Yet with greater speed I must traverse these waters; they appear to be boundless, and lie