"Honour unchang'd, a principle profest;

Fix'd to one side, but mod'rate to the rest."

No generation has ever been left without the man who, as the poet Lowell says, did not hold his soul's own freedom dearer than that of all his brethren;

"Who to the right could feel himself the truer

For being gently patient with the wrong."

In the earliest ages of Christianity, as during the mediæval epoch, such men were never wanting. Cite not the laws of states, or the sayings and doings of a few,—the more remarked because they were so distinguished. Sir Thomas More, whose tolerance, as a late writer says, "was only a just view of things, a gentle philosophy on the foundation of Christian humanity, equally removed from indifference and passion, ascribes to Utopus the resolution that every one should have freedom of conscience, and that no one should be compelled to believe. He thought it an absurd and insolent deed to attempt imposing truth itself upon the world by force and menaces, but he left every one free to believe what he thought proper." Do you suppose that he who set such a value upon precedents that he would have subscribed all things required of him, if one example could be found to satisfy him, thought when he wrote this passage that he stood alone and singular for the opinion it expressed? This in fact was the very lesson that king Ethelbert received from St. Augustin when that monk was sent by St. Gregory to England. It was still the same spirit which inspired the later missionaries to America. "When they took quiet possession of Maryland, religious liberty," says Bancroft, "obtained a home-its only home in the wide world—at the humble village which bore the name of St. Mary's. I will not' such was the oath of the governor of Maryland—' I will not, by myself or any other, directly or indirectly, molest any person for, or in respect of, religion.' In the peaceful asylum in the harbour of the Chesapeake, sectarians were sheltered from the intolerance of sectarians, and the history of the province continued to be the history of benevolence, gratitude, and toleration."

Take another instance. The Vaudois, who according to Guizot, had experienced tolerance oftener than the contrary

from the eleventh to the sixteenth century, enjoying their civil rights and liberty of conscience, who, in 1571, being ill-treated by the duke of Savoy, were protected even by Charles IX., whose intercession for them with Emmanuel Philibert was made only a year before the St. Bartholomew, were inflamed, at the commencement of the seventeenth century, with the desire of joining the general movement, and they violently attacked the religion of the government, some zealots at their head kindling a religious war through the neighbouring valleys. They became, in consequence, the objects of a barbarous persecution. The French regiment of Grancey, which Louis XIV. was sending to aid the duke of Modena, had been stopped on its way into Italy, by desire of the Piedmontese government, in order to intimidate the Vaudois, or take part against them, though the king afterwards disavowed any such intention. However, their commander, from the first moment, refused to incur such a responsibility, and signed the following declaration, “I, Seigneur du Petit Bourg, first captain of the regiment of Grancey and its commander, having been witness of many acts of great violence and extreme cruelty exercised by soldiers, at the instigation of the marquis of Pianezza, whom I am ordered to join, who says he will suffer no person of this religion to be on his territories, do hereby formally deny and protest before God, that none of these cruelties have been executed by my orders; on the contrary, seeing that I could bring no remedy, I was obliged to retire, and resign the command of the regiment, in order not to assist at such bad actions." Now observe all that can be

inferred from this passage. "From the eleventh to the sixteenth century," therefore tolerance is an old-fashioned thing in the Christian world, and not the result of any new extraordinary thought of philosophers. "Charles IX. intercedes for them a year before the St. Bartholomew," therefore intolerance, in the latter instance, was the result of mere political views of personal and national security. "Zealots had been kindling a religious war," therefore persecution was sometimes the result of violence and cruelty on the part of those who incurred it. "I Seigneur du Petit Bourg," therefore tolerance, in the worst days, continued to be the common thought of persons of honour who had no philosophy but what they had gathered from their catechism.

Here, again, is an instance, and one still more remarkable. Benjamin of Tudela, relating his journey from Spain to Jerusalem in the year 1160, writes as follows: "A journey of six days from Pisa brings you to Rome, the metropolis of all Christendom. Two hundred Jews live there, who are very much respected, and pay tribute to no one. Some of them are officers in the service of Pope Alexander, who is the chief ecclesiastic and head of the Christian Church. Rabbi Jechiel, one of the principal of the eminent Jews resident here, frequents the pope's palace, being the steward of his household."

But look only at the grace of intellectual tolerance in action. Silvio Pellico, in 1845, himself a convert-pray remark that— wrote in the following terms to Briano:-" By this time you have seen in the French journals my honest expressions of protest against the condemnatory portions of the 'Prolegomeni' of Gioberti. As the Primato' was dedicated to me, my silence might be considered as indicating approval, and I must always refuse to associate myself with wrath of which the religious orders are the object. I honour Gioberti's understanding, I know that he has a mind desirous of excellence, I know that he is a man of good faith;-but his prejudices have made him break out into an unreasonable Philippic. On reading this eloquent composition, I took counsel of no one, but took pen in hand, and wrote the protest, which I have sent to Paris and to Rome. I say nothing offensive against Gioberti, I state that we are friends. I record my conviction that, in making an odious picture, he conceives himself to have painted what is true, but I signify my dissent. My conduct will be always in harmony with my books, with my principles. I cannot approve intolerance, anger, malediction, against any class of persons whatever. I am pleased that errors should be combated, but not that they should be exaggerated or insulted. I am persuaded that insults exacerbate, instead of correcting them. I do not belong to the Congregation; I am the instrument of no one, I think and I work, without being lessoned by a master; and in setting forth my sentiments, I am not excited with anger against those who think differently from myself. For this reason, I have never attempted to reply to those persons who, owing to difference of opinion, have criticised me. To me, it is sufficient to hate, not men, but only wickedness, and to cherish

my articles of faith, which are deep-rooted, liberal, inclined to moderation, but not to weakness. I love Gioberti, but when he thus exaggerates and goes beyond bounds, he does himself wrong, and I have told him so candidly. He who exaggerates damages the good cause which he might have supported."

Mark, again, the universality of this spirit in action. See how, even for the style of men in their conversation, it shows itself indulgent. "It is wholly opposed to my principles," says a great English author, “to find fault with any one for having unpleasant feelings excited by the use of scriptural expressions. Who can know how much he may have been tormented with these matters by meddling zealots, and what irrational things may have been forced upon him as Scripture doctrine?" Sir Walter Scott said timidly, "he was the more gratified for the flattering reception he had met with in Italy, as he had not always treated the religion professed in it with respect "-truehearted man! But when has any one really imbued with the spirit of a religion which is in accordance with common thoughts been backward in making allowances for the influences arising from birth and local circumstances, and the force of prejudices which cannot be traced to the heart? "Ah!" said a good French priest, on hearing some traits related from the life of Scott, "such a man, with such sincerity, whose hostile words seemed to come from such a superficial part of him as hardly to justify us in thinking them to be his words at all, may all the while have been not only a great man, but also a great saint."

Descending at once from the greatest refinement to the simplicity of the uneducated classes, we have living examples of the same disposition surrounding us. A fruit-seller in the street replied to a question addressed to him by Mr. Mayhew in these words: "I've nothing to say against those of another religion. I've heard it said, it's best to pray for them. The street-people that call themselves by names opposed to that which I belong to are often, as they themselves tell me, of no religion at all. I serve gentlemen and ladies too of these denominations, and sometimes they talk kindly to me. They are good people. I can't say what their lot may be in the next world. No, sir; I'll give no opinion-none." Even for the most deplorable results this spirit seems to be always prepared and ready with

an indulgent interpretation. Thus, alluding to certain persons of extreme views in their theologico-political system, a great author lately cited, even while combating them only says, "They have been led to believe that they were defending their sovereign by perpetuating the bigoted oppression of their fellow-subjects. Their piety is turned into persecution, their courage into obstinate contention. They calmly give themselves up to be ruined by the flashy arrogance of one man and the narrow fanaticism of another. But in their ignorance they did and do it all."

As with the present, so in regard to the past, this line of thought leads men to judge calmly, dispassionately, and kindly both of persons and things. "It will never allow men,” as a noble and learned peer lately remarked, when addressing an assembly of mechanics, "to stigmatize as opposed to liberty and public virtues a religion which inspired England at a time of disasters, when, in spite of civil wars and all the disorders attending them, Philip de Commines could say of it, ‘In my thinking, of all the seigniories of this earth, so far as I know them, that state where the public weal is most cared for, and where the commonalty suffers least oppression, is England."" The common thought will loathe and execrate the measures of suppression which were adopted when the movement of the sixteenth century alarmed governments. But still the language of tolerance as expressed around us will be found, even in reference to such things, temperate and fair. "Mary," says a great English author, speaking of her who sought to maintain religion by suffering legal violence to sway her counsels, "Mary we pity—she derived little pleasure from having her way, even in religious matters, but acted as she did out of a narrow sense of duty; and she proved her honesty, however perverted, by a perpetual anxiety and uneasiness. When did a charitable set of opinions ever inflict these miseries of an intolerant one?" The spirit of tolerance will induce men to add, what ought not to be forgotten in regard to ancient horrors, which can never be sufficiently detested, that those who acted like her thought they saw their country perishing by a sudden and violent conflagration; that they had before their eyes the fury of innovators, the lamentations of the people, the flight or slaughter of persons consecrated to religion; and that these things seemed to them