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824 Account of Books committed to the Flames, suppressed, c.

nals, fatigued by the complaints of the injured, sought the author of these enormities. Every one named Rousseau; they seemed to recognize the warmth of his style. His infamous epigrams, which he called the Gloria Patri of his psalms, many ill-natured couplets against different persons, his licentious tales, his propensity to slander, seemed to testify against him in the eyes of his adversaries. People compared circumstances; they recollected speeches which he had been heard to utter. It was observed, that the victims sacrificed in the couplets were precisely the persons whom he most hated. In spite of these presumptions, it was impossible to pronounce a certain judgment on this fatal affair; because, on the other side, it was known that Rousseau had violent enemies, raised up, as well by the envy inspired by his talents, as by his satirical disposition. The poet would not perhaps have been condemned, had he merely denied that he was the author of the couplets. But not content with seeking to appear innocent himself, he attempted to make the Geometer Saurin guilty of the crime of which he was accused. William Arnold, a young man of weak understanding, was said to be the instrument whom Rousseau employed to crush his enemy. This wretch deponed, that Saurin had given him couplets for the purpose of having them secretly circulated. The cause was carried before the parliament; and the blow, with which Rousseau meant to strike the geometrician, fell upon his own head. Saurin shewed the contrast between his own character and that of Rousseau. He accused him as a suborner of witnesses; and in particular of William Arnold, to whom he had given money. The proofs of this subornation appeared evident, and Rousseau was banished for ever from the kingdom. After having wandered in Switzerland, in Germany, and in Brabant, he died at Brussels, 17 March 1744. .

"Emile, or, On Education, by Jear "Jacques Rousseau, citizen of Gene"va." The parliament of Paris, by a decree of 9 June 1762, orders that this work shall be torn and burnt in the court of the palace, at the foot of the great stair, by the executioner of public justice:-That the said J. J. Rousseau, named in the frontispiece of the book, shall be taken, apprehended, and carried to prison, to be heard and interrogated on the facts of the said book, and to reply to the charges which the prosecutor general means to bring against him. On Friday, 11th June 1762, the work mentioned above was torn and burnt at the foot of the great stair of the palace. Emile was also condemned to be burnt by the hand of the executioner, at Geneva.

The reading of the "Social Contract" has been severely prohibited in France; several editions of it were confiscated in 1762, and a bookseller of Lyons, named de Ville, was arrested, and carried to Pierre Encyse, on being found to have begun the printing of an edition.

The "Letters from the Mountain" were condemned to the flames by a decree of the parliament of Paris, 19 March 1765.

"Treatise on heresy, schism, &c. "By Antonio Sanctarel. (Latin.) "Rome, Zanetti, 1625, 4to." This book is rare, having been censured by the Sorbonne, suppressed by decree of the parliament of Paris, 13 March 1626, and condemned to the flames as contrary to the laws of the kingdom. It was suppressed also in England, at the instigation of the court of France. The author maintains that the Pope has a right to set regents over kings incapable of reigning, and even to depose them if he thinks fit. Moreover, he gives them an exorbitant power, not only over the throne, but even over the life of Princes. This book was approved by the General of the Je suits. The monks of this order, hav ing been sent for, and interrogated"

upon

upon the subject of this work, attempted to excuse their General. They frankly owned, that though, at Paris, they disapproved the doctrine of this book; yet, at Rome, if they were there, they would approve it. They asked time to deliberate; three days were granted them; and it was decreed, that if these fathers should not then disapprove the doctrine of Sanctarel, they should be treated as guilty of high treason. The consequence was, that they condemned the decree of their General, by an authentic act, which they signed 16th March 1626.

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"Discovery of witchcraft, by Re"ginald Scott." This work was condemned to the flames in England.That island was then, like the rest of Europe, enslaved by popular prejudices. The great crime of the author was the not believing in sorcery: he explains, in his work, the practices and the arts which fortune-tellers and sorcerers usually employ in deceiving the simple; and he solicits compassion in favour of those who are accused of Sorcery. This book was severely criticized by many learned men, and James I. wrote an answer to it, under the title of Demonology. Reginald Scott, born in the province of Kent, in 1645, died in 1599.

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judges of Servitus, is still more in request.

"Apologia pro Serveto. Authore "Gulielmo Postello, Svo." Manuscript never printed.

He who should possess these five works, would have, perhaps, the most precious and rarest collection known. The Christianismi Restitutio alone was sold to M. de la Valliere, in 1781, for 4120 livres (2004.) It is well known that the books of Servetus were burned, either with the author at Geneva, or elsewhere, which has rendered them excessively rare. Servetus, by his correspondence with Calvin on the subject of the Trinity, drew upon himself the animadversion of that famous sectary; accordingly the latter declared, that if ever Servetus set foot in Geneva, he should not go out of it with impunity. In fact, the latter having escaped from prison, and wishing to go into Italy, was so unfortunate as to pass through Geneva. Calvin caused him to be arrested there, and soon after condemned. On the 27th Oct. 1553, Servetus was led to the stake; he continued more than two hours in the flames, because the wind drove them in a contrary direction; and it is said that he cried out, when he felt his torments prolonged :

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Wretch, cannot I then die? What! with a hundred pieces of gold, and the rich necklace which they took when they arrested me, could they not purchase wood enough to consume me more quickly?"

Servetus was born at Villa Nueva, in Arragon, in the year 1509. He was a physician, and practised that art for some time at Paris.

Character of the late SIR WILLIAM FORBES.

"Joannis Calvini defensio ortho"doxæ fidei, de Sacra trinitate contra (From Funeral Sermon, by the Rev. Archi.

"Serveti errores. Oliva Rob. Stephani,

* 1554, 8vo." Rare. A translation of this work by Colladon, one of the Nov. 1808.

bald Alison.)

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righteousness. In those early years, when all our profoundest opinions and affections are formed, he had the happiness of being brought up by a widowed parent, who, like the pious moher of the infant Prophet, educated him in the temple of God; whose voice instructed him in the service of the Christian, and whose example spoke the truth of the lessons which she taught. I can testify, with what deep emotion, even in his last hours, he recollected this blessing of his infant years; and I can say, to every mother that hears me, that such, in the exquisite system of Divine Widom, is at once the fruit and the reward of maternal piety.

It was at this period, accordingly, that all the leading principles of his mind were formed; that he acquired that early love of God, which is the parent of virtue, as well as of devotion; that he felt that alliance between his revealed laws and the precepts of his own uncorrupted mind, which constitutes the liberty of religion; and that, from the cool shade of youthful contemplation, he looked forward upon life, not only as the theatre of time, but as the school of immortality. It was from this high discipline, that, in the years of inexperience, no illusions of the world, and no seductions of example, were ever able to detain him amid the sordid scenes of youthful dissipation; and that although his early years were passed in that dark age of our country, when infidelity was fashionable, and when the guilty hand of genius was shaking all the foundations of human faith and hope, no vanity of youth, and no authority of age, ever induced him to let go one principle of his religious faith, or to relax one spring of the ambition of virtue.

When from this scene of preparation he entered upon the various duties, which his rank and situation in life prescribed to him, he entered upon them with the same views, and the

same principles. Born the representative of a noble, but unfortunate family, he felt it his business to restore it, if not to the rank, at least to the dignity, which it had bequeathed to him. Looking forward to that connection, and to that numerous family, with which heaven afterwards blessed him, he felt it his duty to prepare for them, (in an age when wealth had more than its real value) all the honourable independence, which his industry and activity could provide. He felt still more, perhaps, the ambition which is natural to every noble mind, of distinguishing himself in the eyes of his country, and of shewing to mankind, that there is a prouder honour, which the virtues of the individual can attain, than all that hereditary titles can bestow. But, most of all, he felt the ambition that belongs to evangelical virtue; the ambition of walking svorthy of the hopes to which he was called; and of demonstrating to the world, that the faith of the christian may be united with every thing that is dignified in public conduct, or amiable in private manners. Such were the lofty ends, which, in the race of time, it was his ambition to accomplish, and which, by the grace of God, he did accomplish.

The race which he ran, my brethren, was not in secret. It was in the midst of all the dangers, and of all the duties of social life: for many years the world have been spectators of it; and there is scarcely one of us, of any age or condition, who has not marked it in some of its aspects. I dare then to say, that in all this long time, and that, in a period of our country, when neither talents nor virtues were infrequent among us, there was no person of our age who has so fully united in himself, the same assemblage of the most estimable qualities of our nature: the same firmness of piety, with the same tenderness of charity; the same ardour of public spirit, with the same disdain of indivi

dual

dual interest; the same activity in bu siness, with the same generosity in its conduct; the same independence to wards the powerful, and the same humanity towards the lowly; the same dignity in public life, with the same gentleness in private society. In some of these qualities of mind, he was inferior to few; in others, he was equal to many; but, in the union and combination of the whole, he was superior to all. There was a balance and proportion among the attributes of his mind, which made them all harmonize together; and, there was something in his nature, which seemed always superior even to the very virtues he was called to exercise. The minds of most men are distinguished only by particular qualities: and when we say that they are learned, or generous, or active, we give them all the praise of their character. In him, on the contrary, there seemed always some greater substance, as it were, to which these qualities belonged; some higher principle, from which they flowed at his obedience, and by which they became, not the measures of his character, but the occasional instruments of his will, In this discipline of his mind, there was one quality alone, to which he imposed no limits. You know, my brethren, that it was the quality of CHARITY; not that feeble and hypocritical spirit, with which men often deceive the world and themselves; but that high and holy spirit, which is learnt from the gospel; that charity which is the end of the commandment; that charity which is kindled by once looking firmly at the Author of good, and which then returns to the world to be its minister and dispenser. It was the habit that was fitted to the original character of his mind; and he wore it with the grace of a thing that was natural, and with the ease of a thing that was habitual. It accompanied him into every scene of business, or of pleasure; wherever happiness could be given, wherever modesty

could be encouraged, wherever merie could be exalted, or melancholy could be relieved. But, in the scenes of wretchedness and distress, where the widow and the fatherless were found, and where they lay who had none to help them, it assumed then a higher aspect, and wore a more majestic form. On this magnificent subject I will not speak; because something of it is known to us all; and because there is a voice yet to reach us, which will tell us, what is now known only to God. I will say only, that there is scarcely an abode of human misery in this great city, which his pity has not reached; that there are few of us, whom duty has called to visit the scenes of wretchedness, who have not found his known, or his unknown steps to precede us; that no vulgar boundaries, of faith, or country, or climate, limited the boundless humanity of his mind: that, even in an age of benevolence, the charities of the proudest and greatest among us, sunk before his; that there is scarcely a province of our land, which has not known his protection, or his benignity; and that the noblest records which this city can leave to posterity, contain, at the same time, the records of his wisdom, his labours, and his benevolence.

The character, however, of a christian, like that of the leader of his salvation, can only be made perfect by suffering. During the course of this long and beneficent life, it pleased God to leave him to his common share in the sorrows of mortality He had to know, at different times, the anguish of disease, and all the weakness of infirmity. He had to follow to the grave many of the friends of his youth, and of his manhood; to see his children taken from him, in the hour when they met his love, and looked up for his instruction; and, as life was declining, and the snows of age were falling upon his head, to lose the kindred mind that had so long been the

part

partner of his feelings, and of his vir-
tues. Amid all these scenes, the cha-
racter of his mind was the same; and,
in the deep convictions of his heart,
there was a faith which was able to
meet distress, and resist misfortune.
He was afflicted, but not subdued. He
knew that afflictions rise not from the
dust; that there are ends they serve,
which one day the faithful mind will
know; and that around the childhood
of humanity, there are yet the Ever-
lasting arms. These, indeed, are the
common, and the blessed convictions
of the pious; but in him, amid such
scenes, there was something more:—
There was, in his sorrows, no selfish-
ness, no ostentatious pride of suffering,
no abandonment of the business of
life, for the indulgence of solitary
grief. In the midst of his misfortunes,
his time, his advice, his exertions, were
still at the command of all who need-
ed them while he gave way to the
sensibility of his private nature, he
lost nothing of the perseverance of his
duty; and there was no hour of cala-
mity, in which he was incapable of
happiness, when he could be the au-
thor, or the minister, of happiness to
others.

It was in this manner, withdrawing himself gradually from the love, but not from the duties, of mortality, and feeling the call of a higher being, as the ties of the present were dissolving, that life led on to its final scene; to that scene which has been ended since we last met in this house, and which many of us will forget only with the last remembrances of our being. Upon this subject I dare not expatiate; I dare not remember the lengthened sufferings with which it pleased heaven to try his last days; the vicissitudes of hope and fear, which the prayers of this place have so long expressed; and which have been expressed in many a midnight prayer from those who had none else to help them. I dare still less to remember the fortitude with which the visita

tions of heaven were borne; the ge nuine resignation with which he prepared himself either to live, or to die; the ardent devotion with which, in the hours of struggle and of sufferance, he walked humbly with his God; and the unabated zeal with which he employed the temporary cessations of affliction, in every labour in which he could yet do justice, or shew mercy unto men. I wish rather to remember, that while the last trial was approach. ing, and ere the silver cord was loosed for ever, the mercy of heaven granted to the prayers of his family, one parting gleam of tranquillity and repose; that a ray, as of celestial light, came to irradiate the closing scene; and that, in his last hours, he seemed to have conquered the infirmities of mortality, and to have experienced the earnest of eternal peace.

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AMONG the persons whom I found

out at Bristol, and from whom I derived assistance, were Dr Camplin, and the celebrated Dean Tucker. The former was my warm defender; for the West-Indian and African merchants, as soon as they discovered my errand, began to calumniate me. The Dean, though in a very advanced age, felt himself much interested in my pursuit. He had long moved in the political world himself, and was desirous of hearing of what was going forward that was new in it, but particularly about so desirable a measure as that of the abolition of the Slavetrade *. He introduced me to the

Custom

* Dean Tucker, in his Reflections on

the Disputes between Great Britain and Ireland, published in 1785, had passed a severe censure on the British planters for the inhuman treatment of their slaves.

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