historically at least, a variable factor dependent on the progress of opinion. Every age has had its own formula for toleration; and when we assert that any line of action is contrary to the great principles of toleration, we must produce the exact formula in regard to which an antagonism is to be proved. The formula of our Church allows us ample scope for action. It allows the civil magistrate “to call to account, and proceed against those who publish such opinions, or maintain such practices as are contrary to the light of nature, or to the known principles of Christianity," and "to take order that all blasphemies and heresies be suppressed." Here abundant latitude is given, and those who, within the pale of the Church, cannot adjust to the principles of toleration any resistance to the Pope's aggression, had better inquire whether there is not some need of a closer adjustment between their own private views and their public confession. In arguing, however, this matter, we have to deal with those who discard this part of our confession as the relic of a barbarous age, and who profess to hold sentiments more congenial to the liberalism of the present times. But before adverting to the most generally recognised formula of toleration at the present day, let us glance at its gradual growth into its present form. There can be no doubt that we must date the birth of the idea from the Protestant reformation, though it may be objected that the Reformers applauded toleration only when they were the weaker party. Now we are not much concerned to rebut the taunts frequently thrown out against our early Reformers as animated by a spirit of persecution. All that we are concerned to shew is, that toleration existed potentially in the very essence of Protestantism-and that just in proportion t the development of Protestantism, was the development of the principle of toleration. This perfect co-ordination clearly proves an identity of origin. Great ideas such as this have not the mushroom growth of a night, but like the oak require the development and consolidation of centuries. The era of the Revolution of 1688 is usually assigned for the complete development of the idea, but it was ever since the Reformation passing through the alembic of controversy and blood. Sir James Mackintosh holds that Sir Harry Vane was the first "to lay down with perfect precision the inviolable rights of conscience, and the exemption of religion from all civil authority." It was to him that Cromwell referred, when he stamped with his iron heel on the floor of Parliament, for his soldiers, and exclaimed, "The Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane." Yet Sir Harry and Oliver had substantially the same mission to fulfil, although it was to be accomplished in a strange way-by the antagonism of despotism. It was, however, reserved for Locke to place the complete development of toleration on a broad philosophic basis. He unfortunately ered in excess of liberality, and countenanced a principle which, if acted upon, would be as destructive to the wellbeing of man as the most rampant intolerance. We allude to the doctrine that man is not responsible for his belief. It may be in the memory of some of our readers, that no ordinary sensation was produced twenty-five years ago, by the announcement of this doctrine by Lord Brougham, at his installation to the rectorship of Glasgow College. This was his oracular dictum. "The great truth has finally

gone to all the ends of the earth, that man shall no more render account to man for his belief, over which he has himself no controul. Henceforth nothing shall prevail upon us to blame any one for that which he can no more change than he can the hue of his skin or the height of his stature." Dr Wardlaw at the time triumphantly met this position in a little work in which, if we remember well, he treated the doctrine as the product of Brougham's own wayward intellect. Though this doctrine has unfortunately been mixed up by Locke with the theory of toleration, the latter, even on his own basis, does not require the assumption of the former.

The most zealous advocates for toleration have always admitted a limit. They have acknowledged that the very conditions of society necessarily impose some restraint. Paley, who from his utilitarian theory, and from his putting the divine right of kings on a level with that of constables, was not likely to err on the side of prerogative, states that "religious liberty is like civil liberty, not an immunity from restraint, but the being restrained by no law but what in a greater degree conduces to the public welfare." But the difficulty lies in laying down the limit in its right place. The "public welfare" is a very general phrase, and as a practical limit is not of much value. Perhaps the most generally recognised formula is that which applies the restraining clause only to such doctrines as endanger the peace of the State, and the moral welfare of the community. Mere opinion is not in any way interfered with-no restrictive clause can possibly reach the conscience, and the limit is applicable only to the dissemination of dangerous opinions and doctrines. But still, as a practical rule, something more definite is necessary than this general formula. So difficult, indeed, is it to draw the line where there is in the community an extreme sensitiveness to the rights of conscience, that practically in this country there is almost no restraint whatever to the publication of dangerous doctrines and opinions. Paley does indeed condescend on some particular cases. For example, he says, "I deem it no infringement of religious liberty to restrain the circulation of ridicule, invective, and mockery, on religious subjects." And we find occasionally that a local authority interferes in the suppression of blasphemous and licentious prints. But practically there is no interference with those giant forins of error and corruption which exercise a real leavening influence on society at large. The morbid sensitiveness in reference to the rights of conscience is so strong, that anything wearing the remotest semblance to persecution calls forth the deepest sympathy. Lucky is the man or sect who in these days can provoke a little persecution, for there is nothing so readily converted into hard cash or some other solid advantage. Right or wrong, this is the state of feeling on the question of toleration, and any action taken against the Pope must be adjusted to these extreme views.

By the current principles of toleration, no man is to be interfered with, whatever his opinions may be, and a very great latitude is allowed for the expression and publication of opinions injurious to the peace and moral welfare of society. But the matter is totally different when a system of belief is embodied in an organization fitted for action.

Now this is what has been practically done in the recent aggression. A widely ramified organization has been formed for carrying into practical operation a system of belief and doctrine hostile to the peace of the state, and the morals of society. It is theory translated into action. The theory, so long as it was mere theory, might be overlooked, but translated into action it assumes a different aspect altogether. It may be argued, What is there in the appointment of bishops, with local jurisdictions, instead of vicars apostolic, that warrants such a charge? The manifesto of Cardinal Wiseman is quite satisfactory on this point, and shows us that the aggression is not one of mere empty titles. He tells us that the appointment of Bishops with local jurisdictions is convertible with the introduction of the canon law, which has not been administered in this country since 1623. There is no doubt that every Roman Catholic in this country all along acknowledged the ecclesiastical authority of the canon law; but this was a mere matter of belief, as the law was not actually put in force, and it was consequently innocuous. But now this acknowledgment is more than a mere system of belief, it is made the basis of an active organization calculated to endanger the peace and the morals of the country. The Thugs and the Decoits of Hindostan are religious sects, whose distinguishing rites are robbery and murder. Let us suppose that they sent missionaries to this country, to bring us over to their faith and practice. What treatment would they receive? To a certain extent the laws of toleration would be extended to them. They would be allowed with perfect impunity to maintain their conscientious convictions. Great latitude would be given even to the dissemination of their opinions. But the moment they formed themselves into an organization for action, a limit would be immediately set to what they might call their religious liberty. No overt act of violence would be necessary to warrant an interference. The mere organization would afford sufficient ground. In like manner, in dealing with the present Popish aggression, the principles of the widest toleration do not require us to wait till some actual outrage demanding the cognizance of the civil power should be committed. A sufficient ground of interference is afforded by the organization of a power calculated to endanger the peace and the moral welfare of society.

The difficulty in securing a firm logical ground for resistance turns very much on the use of the term spiritual. Perhaps no word has been made to cover, by its ambiguities, a greater number of abuses. Under shelter of the awful word spiritual, the most fearful atrocities have been perpetrated. Now we are not bound to deal with Popery as a spiritual system, merely because it chooses that as the most convenient designation. No doubt it has its spiritual aspects, but the points with which we have chiefly to do are these doctrines and practices which strike at the basis of the social fabric and endanger its stability. The Thug when about to commit a murder appeals to his Goddess Kali with as much reverence as when the Irish assassin kneels before his priest and pours into his ear his murderous intention. The plea that his system is a religious one, would not serve the Thug. Why should the same plea hold in the case of the Roman Catholic, when the results of both systems are similar? The canon law acknowledges that the Pope has

two swords, the one temporal, the other spiritual; so that he cannot take refuge in the spiritual aspect of his power when the question of toleration is raised. It is also held that the laws of any country are not binding if opposed to the decrees of the Pope. He may depose kings, absolve subjects from their allegiance, and release from the obligation of oaths. The term spiritual is a most convenient word if it can withdraw such subjects from the jurisdiction of the civil power. Do not all these doctrines trench most essentially on the peace and welfare of society? Would they not, if carried out in practice, render civil society impossible? Such doctrines, as far as the stability of the state is concerned, may be harmless enough when they only form part of a creed, but they become eminently dangerous when they form the basis of an organization, such as the recent aggression of the Pope

amounts to.

ETERNITY OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT.

The

Perhaps few words have played a more important part in logical trickery than the term infinite. By a species of jugglery it often lands us in results of the most startling nature. We may have a latent conviction that there is some sleight of hand, but it is no easy task sometimes to say where the fallacy precisely lies. The fallacy will, however, be generally found to lurk in the ambiguity of the term. subject of future punishment affords us an illustration, where, by the dexterous use of this term, we are landed in conclusions directly opposed to one another. Jonathan Edwards supports the doctrine of the eternity of future punishment, and his argument consists in the position, that because the sin is against an infinite Being, the punishment must necessarily be of infinite duration. John Foster denies the doctrine, and in support of his position appropriates an old argument, which is to the following effect. As there are different degrees of guilt, there must be different degrees of punishment, but there cannot be different degrees, if the punishment be eternal, for in that case the respective punishments would be ultimately equalized, the infinite duration of one degree being equal to the infinite duration of another; or to express the matter more definitely, a smaller unit of suffering multipled by infinity, must be equal to a greater unit multiplied by infinity. The products in both cases being infinites, must be equals. Now, the erroneous assumption is, that infinites must be equal. If the term be used in its positive and absolute sense, neither equality nor inequality can be predicated of infinites. To assert that two infinites are equal, is to assign a relation which can belong only to finite quantities; for there can be no comparison where there are no bounds. In a former note we saw that the same fallacy was employed to prove that the world cannot consist of an infinite succession of events. The revolutions of the planets were taken for illustration. It was argued that if the planets revolved from all eternity, then we would have unequal infinites, one infinite consisting of the shorter periods of one planet, another consisting of the longer periods of another. This reductio ad absurdum would be a valid argument, if there was no wrong premiss. But the

argument requires an assumption altogether erroneous, that the infinites by which the different periods are multiplied must be equal.

In the argument before us, the point at issue does not involve the origin of the notions of space and time, of infinity and eternity. Whether we adopt the sensational or transcendental theory, the matter is the same. The question is altogether a numerical one, and the proof professes to amount to a mathematical demonstration. We must therefore take the mathematical definition of infinity, and treat the matter as a question of mathematics. In dealing with the question, we will derive more aid from the fluxionary calculus of Newton, than from the transcendental analysis of Kant. A person conversant with the mathematical symbols and operations of infinites, will have no difficulty in detecting the fallacies which are often perpetrated when numerical relations are imported into subjects of a purely mental or moral character. Now it is abundantly apparent that the greatest absurdity must follow from the putting of one infinite equal to another, the term being taken in its absolute sense, as in that case they would be reduced to the category of finite quantities. In many of the startling sophisms connected with infinites, it will be found that the fallacy consists in a reversal of the definition of the term infinite. For example, the Epicureans in order to maintain their Atomic theory, thought it necessary to prove that space is not infinitely divisible, though the infinite divisibility of space and matter, are totally different matters, and their proof is as follows. Let it be granted that a given magnitude may be divided into an infinite number of parts, then if we take one of these and multiply it by infinity, we get a magnitude infinitely large; but this is opposed to the assumption that the magnitude is of given limited dimensions. Now the fallacy lies in the assumption that the infinitely small parts are of a finite magnitude, and no doubt, if they are finite, however small they may be, an infinite number of them must constitute an infinite magnitude, but this is contrary to the condition of the question, that they be infinitely small.

It will at once be objected that in mathematical questions we deal with infinites so as to obtain finite results. Nay the whole theory of limits on which the differential calculus is based, implies that infinites or infinitesimals may have any ratio whatever to one another. Indeed the great object of the calculus is to assign the precise ratio which they bear to one another; and in the question before us it may be remarked, that the argument holds equally well whether we take the infinitely small or the infinitely great. Now this leads us to note an ambiguity in the use of the term infinite, which has been the source of the greatest bewilderment to the hardest heads in every age. The term infinite as employed by the mathematician, has two meanings quite distinct. In the one sense it means magnitude without bounds, in the other it is equivalent to a process without limits. In the former sense it would be absurd to predicate equality or inequality of infinites. In the latter sense any proportion may be predicated, nay, it is in this use of the term that the idea of ratio is involved. As an illustration let us take the celebrated puzzle of Achilles and the tortoise. Suppose that when