of

of Moscow, in little coaches, each holding four of the Lillipu tians, drawn by little Shetland ponies, amidst a splendid cavalcade, preceded by a band of music, and attended by persons high distinction. This procession of these diminutive creatures reminds me of Shakespeare's description of Queen Mab, the "Queen of the Fairies,"-fanciful beings, Alfred, which do not exist, but which ignorant people, in former times, imagined to possess great power: the poet represents this formidable lady as

Drawn with a team of little atomics,

Athwart men's noses, as they lie asleep:

Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs;
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;

The collars of the moonshine's wat'ry beams:

Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film:
Her waggoner, a small gray-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid.

Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,

Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers.'

Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc. 3.

'One day, observing the mournful countenance of one of his footmen, Peter inquired into the cause of his dejection, and was answered that the wife of the footman had a bad tooth, which ached very much, but refused to have it taken out. The Tzar offered his assistance, and was introduced to the sufferer, who, however, strongly protested that nothing ailed her: the husband, at the same time, declared, shaking his head, that such was her constant cry when the doctor was present, but that her pain was excruciating when he was gone. "She shall not suffer long," exclaimed the good-natured monarch; "do you hold her head and arms, and I'll warrant I'll cure her.' Peter took out the tooth which appeared to him the worst, assuring the poor woman she would soon be entirely well; but he learned shortly after, that she really never had suffered from the tooth-ache, and that it was all a trick of the footman's, to punish his wife for her supposed infidelity to him. This was more than Peter could bear: though fond of practical jokes, he did not like them to be played upon himself. His humanity was hurt at having been made the instrument of inflicting pain, and his vanity was piqued at having been duped into a surgical error. He therefore summoned his witty valet into his presence, and having upbraided him sharply for his conduct, he inflicted a severe chastisement upon him with a cane, which he generally carried in his hand, and did not scruple to use whenever he thought there was occasion for it.

Peter was a great man, and had a great mind. He rose above the prejudices of his rank, age, and country, as is proved by his waving ceremonies to which princes are usually attached, submitting to labours from which kings consider themselves exempt, and rising above the superstitious thraldom of opinions

and customs long revered, by which both emperors and their subjects are equally enslaved. The Russians regarded themselves as the greatest nation on the face of the earth, and disdained to hold intercourse with foreigners. Peter perceived their great ignorance and barbarism, and by making use of the superior information of foreigners, in a great measure removed them. The Russians had adopted the Oriental mode of secluding women from society: Peter abolished this custom, by inviting females, unmarried as well as married, to his parties, and encouraging the fashion of both sexes mixing together promiscuously in the business and enjoyments of every-day life-a fashion which greatly contributed, not only to the happiness, but to the civilization of the people. The Russians held their priests in the highest reverence, and the Patriarch of Moscow had, like the Pope of Rome, assumed a more than kingly power, arrogating an authority over the Tzars themselves, who, in sign of subjection, had often held the bridle of the horse on which the proud prelate was seated, in a public procession through the streets of the capital, whilst they denounced sentence of death, or the punishment of the rack and the wheel, on the subjects of the Emperor, without his having the power to prevent its infliction. Peter would not pay to man the homage due only to God, nor suffer the lives of his subjects to be dependent on the will of any one but himself: he, therefore, abolished the office of Patriarch, and placed himself at the head of the church, the false pretensions of whose ministers to work miracles, and to exercise temporal authority, he frequently exposed and ridiculed. The Russians hated knowledge, as introducing innovations which were destructive to the ancient institutions and manners of the country, which, in their contracted view, were as perfect as human wisdom could make them. Peter sought after knowledge in every direction, and welcomed it from every quarter, as that which alone could raise his country to a place amongst civilized nations, and in his own example he exhibited an inextinguishable thirst for information of every kind, from ship-building to bood-letting. These were the acts of a strong mind, which regarded what was really useful more than what was erroneously deemed such, and which, in seeking, with an unalterable purpose, the regeneration of Russia, was not deterred from doing all that so vast and noble an undertaking required, by customs, however consecrated, prejudices, however deeply-rooted, or labours, however humiliating and exhausting.

"The son and successor of Alexis, the Tzar, was, then, one of the greatest men and most patriotic princes whose names are recorded in history; and it must be allowed, that he was most

deserving of the high titles with which he was three times hailed by the Russian Senate, whose voice was loudly responded by the whole Russian nation- Long live Peter the Great, Emperor of all the Russias, and Father of his Country!

SOBER THOUGHTS ON THE STATE OF THE TIMES, ADDRESSED TO THE UNITARIAN COMMUNITY.*

TWENTY years of controversy have just passed by. It has been a season, we may suppose, much like that of all controversies, but it has had its own characteristics, and, what is worthy of special observation, it is likely to be followed by more distinct and lasting results than generally happens. A theological discussion, of great severity, is oftentimes carried on for years, and yet it would be difficult to trace its consequences anywhere, excepting in the books which have been written, and which are themselves soon forgotten. But, in the present instance, a broad mark has been left upon the very face of society, a permanent change has been effected in some of its institutions, and in the relations of its members. For it has been one of that series of struggles for liberty and light, which began at the opening of the Reformation in Germany three hundred years ago, and which is pushing on, step by step, toward the completion of that immortal work. Society advances in opinion, in knowledge, in institutions, by some great effort of its powerful minds, and then pauses for a time, as if to secure and consolidate what is gained. Then another effort, agitation, and advancement, and again another pause. During these pauses, it may seem stationary; it may even appear to the apprehensive mind, retrograde; but it is certainly true that revolutions do not go backward; and though the tide of improvement, as it rolls up its glorious waves, may appear to be occasionally retreating, it is only to gather up its might and come on with a firmer swell-while Dame Partington and all her maids brandish their ancient mops in vain.

It is the rolling in upon the shore of one of these larger swells that has attracted our attention during the last twenty years. The Reformation has been making a vigorous advance. The commotion has been extensive-the tossing has been fearful-the alarm and bustle of those exposed to the spray has been loud and earnest. At length the height of the swell seems to have past; there are symptoms of greater quiet and repose. To change the figure, the heat of the warfare is over; the great battle has been fought; and it is time to look about us and see what is the result-where the world stands-and what use is to be made of the losses and the acquisitions of the contest. I know no more

* Reprinted from the Boston (U. S.) edition, 1835.-We have published this piece, the author of which, we are informed, has hitherto succeeded in concealing himself-partly because of its affording one means of knowing the state of religion among our brethren of the United States, and partly because, in its general tenor, it is not unapplicable to the religious condition of some churches in this country,

instructive inquiry to the impartial seeker of truth. Who will undertake the investigation? Perhaps the day for it is not yet fully come. In order to a satisfactory decision, we must perhaps wait for the termination of several most interesting discussions in various unconnected portions of the Christian church, which are now in fervent progress; all of them growing out of the great action of the principles of the Reformation-all a part of the mighty struggle of the times for liberty and light-all portending salutary change throughout the religious world, and giving to the thoughtful observer auspicious pledges of the sure advent of a day of complete and established reform. Let the people praise thee, O Lord, let all the people praise thee!

It is no part of my design to look at the whole of this most extensive subject. I confine myself to that division of the Church, which has stood in the front rank during the recent contest, which has carried furthest the principles of the Reformation, and has consequently suffered (as the leading corps in this cause have always done) from the suspicions, the opposition, and the anathema of the general body of the believers. The majority of those who have reformed to a certain extent, has always been seriously inimical to those who desire to reform further. They have come to a period in religion,' to quote the significant expression of the immortal Robinson, and they call it Orthodoxy. To go a step further, and read the next sentence, is heresy, and heretics, of course, are not to be tolerated. This intolerable class at the present age is that of Unitarians. They are desiring to press the Reformation beyond the orthodoxy of the present times, just as the Puritans desired to press it beyond the orthodoxy of the English Church; and are therefore to be regarded and treated no better than those unfortunate schismatics were treated by the powerful sects around them. Happily, indeed, no secular persecution is possible in these days; but doubtless the wicked Puritans of King James's time were not worse in the eyes of the monarch and the church, than the wicked Unitarians now are in the view of the leading powers in church and state.

The recent controversy has been, not simply a discussion of opinions, but a contest for rights; it has involved questions of reputation for piety, claim to the Christian name, and, in some instances, questions of property. It has been the cause of various trying changes in the domestic and social relations; it has rent asunder long-united communities; it has touched, in all parts of the land and sometimes with a most ungentle hand, many of the tenderest interests and charities of life. With so many circumstances and occasions of exasperation, is it strange that it sometimes, on both sides, took an unhappy tone of bitterness and recrimination? Are we to wonder, when the excited disputant sat down to his task of argument or defence, and remembered that not only his most sacred opinions were to be shielded, but that momentous results of immediate tangible good and ill, happiness and wretchedness, were at stake-are we to wonder that he sometimes spoke too warmly, accused too fiercely, answered too indignantly, and was over-valiant in the use of provoking and irritating missiles? There is much of this to be lamented and forgiven on both sides. Must I not add, there were some specimens of debate so coarse, so insulting, so unprincipled, so after the school of the great calumniator rather than that of Christ, that the writers themselves can look back upon them only with astonishment and

abhorrence! We had been accustomed to plume ourselves on the decency and politeness of the age. We had quoted the base vulgarities of Luther and Calvin, as the strange ill manners of a semi-barbarous century, impossible to be permitted in the more decorous intercourse of modern society. Alas! we were made bitterly to know, that no refinement of the age can prevent the atrocities of speech by which a malignant and exasperated bully will delight to vent his own depravity of heart, and flatters himself that men will call it zeal. Let such things be forgiven; but let a mark of reprobation be put on them; let them be hung up in conspicuous places, as a warning to those who shall be called to the next contest, that it is required of a man that he contend lawfully, and put away from him all bitterness, clamour, wrath, evil speaking, and malice.

Yet, upon the whole, there is much upon which the mind may look back with satisfaction and devout gratitude. Those to whom I write, will not fail to recognise the hand of a wise and gracious Providence in much of the fiery trial through which they have been called to pass. If the Lord had not been on our side when men rose up against us, then they had swallowed us up quick, when their wrath was kindled against us. Blessed be the Lord, who hath not given us as a prey to their teeth.' We have much to be thankful for, in the manner in which the discussion on the whole was conducted; for the vigour, manliness, strength, and sobriety; for the fairness, seriousness, love of truth and spirit of piety, by which it was sustained and imbued; and for the lofty eloquence of faith and fervent attachment of heart with which the soul of Christianity-its vital and life-giving essence-was clung to, advocated, appealed for, in the midst of this confounding din about the outworks of opinion. Now that is so far past, let us gratefully adore the goodness which has brought us through, purified, improved and advanced as a people, rather than consumed, dwindled, deteriorated. We had a conscientious and extreme dislike to controversy. We dreaded its operation as a blight on the kindliness of the affections and the devoutness of the spirit. We entered its perilous way with anxious alarm; but we now find that our fears did not prophecy truly. Piety has not decayed-religion has not languished the charities of life have not perished. On the contrary, we seem to have clasped the more closely to our bosom the spiritual treasures of our faith, and to have valued them more highly than ever. We tested and felt anew their unspeakable worth. And probably practical and vital religion was never more esteemed and prevalent, than at this very time when we are issuing from a storm which seemed destined to destroy it.

This, then, is the present aspect of our religious affairs. We have discussed with our differing brethren the doctrines respecting which we differed, and the questions are at rest. The result is, that we are a community by ourselves. When we began the debate, we were members of the general Congregational body, communicants at the same tables, and sheep under the same shepherds. (I speak in general terms.) Now, a separation has taken place, we have our own congregations, our own ministers, our own institutions and instruments of religious improvement. It is a crisis of unspeakable interest to us. We are deeply concerned to know what is the character and power of those institutions-what the nature and operation of our distinctive faith