tives of Poland, have addressed themselves to the President of the United States, to know how far our Government would favor their removal to this country, en masse; and no notice having been taken of the application, they have lately addressed the inhabitants of the country at large, demanding whether there is a corner in our wide land, where the broken soldier and the worn-out patriot may toil in peace for their daily bread. We blush for our country to say, that not only no notice has been taken of these appeals to our humanity, but that they have not been generally republished in the newspapers. This ought not so to be ;-this would not be, we are certain, if the people were aware of the unhappy situation of these applicants. Unfortunately, an impression prevails that we can do nothing for Poland, and the subject is laid aside. But we have our duties to God, and to ourselves, and we ought to make an effort to fulfil them, be the prospect of their utility ever so faint. If the people would but speak out their will, the Government would act in a manly and Christian, and not in a diplomatic manner; it would do something for the honor of the age, for the character of the human race, by proclaiming its detestation of the atrocities of another Government towards suffering millions. It would record, in the page of history, its solemn protest against them, by stretching out a helping hand to the persecuted victim of despotism, and receiving the homeless exile. There are times and cases, when the ordinary rules of diplomacy and international courtesy should be disregarded, and when all other considerations should yield to the claims of outraged humanity.

But, at least, let not the people of this country be outdone by those of England, in efforts for the Poles. The friends of humanity in London have formed themselves into a society called the Literary Association of the Friends of Poland;' the object of which is, to keep up the public interest in the fate of that country, and add to that force of public opinion, which is every day becoming more and more formidable to despots. The good effects of this society, which is presided over by the generous Campbell, have already become evident. We have before us the first number of a monthly periodical, published by them, under the title of 'Polonia, or Monthly Report on Polish Affairs;' which, while it almost freezes us with horror at the detail of the barbarities now committed in Poland, says, nevertheless, one extenuating word for human nature,

by announcing the rising feeling of indignation among the British public, and the formation of branch societies in the country.

To the people of England, the Poles have made no direct appeal. To that of this country they have. They looked to America with confident expectation of sympathy; for the little aid sent from this country to them during their struggle, having been applied immediately to the people, and not to the Government, had the effect of making them give us ten times the credit we deserve; and a proof of the kindred feeling with which they regard us may be seen in the fact, that in the arms of their National Committee, they have intertwined our flag with that of France and Poland.

Shall we do nothing to merit this feeling of partiality? The Poles ask not of us bread,-they ask not money, though God knows that from our full coffers, and overflowing granaries, a little might be spared to the starving exile; but they ask us to unite our voices to the cry of indignant England, and add our mite to that force of public opinion, which is their sole hope for the moment. Shall we refuse them this ;-nay! shall we not grant them more? Shall we not say to the persecuted patriots, Come here, and ye shall find rest; we have lands rich as your own plains, and rivers as broad as your own Vistula, on whose bank you may build a new Warsaw, which the sword of no Suvaroff shall ever reach?' Such language, though perhaps at variance with the forms of diplomacy, would be generous, manly and Christian. It would be language, in which the free and generous people of America ought to protest to posterity, that they had no part nor lot in the iniquitous and inhuman policy of Europe.

JV. B. O. Peabody,

ART. VI.-Lord Byron's Conversations on Religion. Conversations on Religion with Lord Byron and others. By the late JAMES KENNEDY, M. D. London.

1830.

In all our lives, whether as reviewers or as men, we do not remember to have read a more singular book than this. It contains the history of an attempt made by the writer to convert Lord Byron to Christianity, a change which was suffi

ciently necessary both to the happiness and reputation of the poet, whose mortal life and literary renown might both have lasted longer, had the endeavor been attended with success; but which was commenced and pursued in a manner, which showed that the writer relied less on human reasoning than supernatural power. It is of some little importance in such cases, to ascertain whether the infidel has ever considered the subject, or relies on merely general impressions unfavorable to the truth and importance of Christianity; whether the miraculous or prophetic evidence seems to him to be incredible or unsatisfactory; whether his incredulity is owing to any thing he has read in the Scriptures or any thing he has seen in the conduct of Christians; in fact, it is necessary to know whether he is unbelieving, or simply indifferent, and to suit the approaches precisely to the nature of the case, before one can undertake such an enterprise with the most distant hope of success. Nothing of this kind seems to have occurred to the worthy doctor; relying upon the goodness of his cause, he disdained to use earthly arms. At first he was encouraged by the attention of his unpromising audience, who listened from pure respect for his kind intentions; but as his zeal grew warmer, the most resolute courtesy gave way, and he was obliged to console himself by writing a book, and reflecting that he had done his duty. The same goodness of purpose which gained him a hearing from them, will secure him from that derision in readers, which the grotesque manner in which he conducted his undertaking would be exceedingly apt to inspire.

We shall not enlarge upon the character and principles of Lord Byron. We have done it on former occasions, and our opinion has been confirmed by that verdict of public sentiment, which is always pronounced upon the dead. After making every allowance which his education, his position, his sudden elevation to rank, the dazzling blaze of his renown,—all of them circumstances likely to affect the strongest heads and hearts,— seemed to demand from impartial writers, we came to the conclusion, that he was entirely destitute of what is called character, that is, of all fixed principles of thought and action. He had no deliberate opinions; he had not even habits uniform in their operation; his judgments and feelings varied with the hour; and it is one of the wonders of his poetical power, that it could sustain itself in its flights upon its light and inconstant wing. A great poet he undoubtedly was, or rather was meant VOL. XXXVI.NO. 78.

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to be; for he was so capricious and inconstant in his applica tion, so distracted with pleasures and the numberless vexations which they brought with them in the form of retributions, and so connected with associates who were sufficient to put to flight every thing like honorable ambition, that we cannot believe that the world ever knew what he might have accomplished, or what he might have been. Considering the early life of his noble patient, the Doctor might well have begun his good work by showing him what Christianity was, for many of Byron's remarks make it evident that he did not know; but the physician, as if conscious that this was the very point on which he was least qualified to enlighten him, proceeded to reply to heavy arguments which his patient had never heard of before, and with stern and solemn preparation, brought up his park of artillery to demolish a castle in the air. We need hardly say that the phlogistic practice was unsuccessful: the patient never recovered from the Doctor nor the disease. We do not know that the enterprise would have resulted more happily in different hands; but even the forlorn hope should be conducted in the manner which affords the best chances of

success.

As we have said, a great proportion of those who have passed for infidels seem never to have known the religion which they condemned. We cannot say that if they had known it, they would have believed in its divine origin; for unbelief on this point is commonly regarded as the characteristic of the infidel; but certainly those who deliberated on the subject should have taken this into consideration before they made up their minds. They have united almost to a man in praising the actions and sentiments of the Author of our religion, without appearing to know that his life was Christianity,-Christianity in the living letter; it was the active and efficient religion which he came to establish among men. They do not seem to be in the least aware that, when they admire his uniform excellence, his matchless wisdom, and his unexampled self-devotion, they are in fact bearing testimony in favor of the religion which he brought from above. They complain of Christianity that it is an enthusiastic religion, dealing in visions and raptures; at the same time they confess, that no being that ever existed was more entirely practical than he. They charge Christianity with regarding the feeling rather than the life, while they acknowledge that his feelings were manifested, not by

words and professions, but by a persuasive and eloquent example. They reproach Christianity with frowning on harmless enjoyment, and thus throwing a cloud over the path of life, which is sad enough at the best; while they see that his life was the most entirely social that was ever led, and that the only ambition, the heart's desire of his life, was to make others happy. When they say that his religion is the cause of disunion among men, they admit that the first and last duty, which he enjoined with his living voice and his dying sigh, was that of union, forgiveness, and love. Since his life was Christianity, they cannot condemn the religion without condemning him; and, on the other hand, every word of praise given to his life and character, is an acknowledgment unconsciously made, of the truth, excellence, and glory of Christianity.

The principal objections made to Christianity by men like Byron, who of course never investigated the subject, though they are generally of an indefinite and floating character, seem to have been suggested to their minds by what they had seen or heard of the sentiments or practice of individual Christians. This process of generalizing is common on every subject; but is not resorted to by those, who are particularly earnest to reach the truth. The English traveller in this country encounters occasionally a coarse and vulgar man; he immediately determines in his own mind that such are the characters formed by free institutions, when possibly, by diligent search, he might have found some few such worthies in the most enslaved country on the globe. Would Byron have allowed that it' would be a fair test of the value of poetry to read Amos Cottle, or accept the judgment of one, who, after having gone through that process, should decide that poetry was a weary and unprofitable art? When the French infidels made use of the practices of the Roman church in that day, and paraded her corrupt and superstitious practices as so many evidences against Christianity, they must have been conscious that they were acting an unworthy part; for these things, far from being the result of Christianity, were not even inseparable from the church in which they were found, which still exists and disavows these abuses and corruptions. The most signal instance of this unfairness is seen in Gibbon, who has set down with singular minuteness all the vices and follies of the Christians of early ages, wandering out of his way to find them, and describing them where they would be out of place, unless they