united to this Brain, compelled this Brain to serve it as the minister of its thinkings upon this Earth and in this mode of its Beingwhich, united to this Frame, in it, and through it, and from it, felt for Happiness and for Misery-that this Mind, once disunited from all these, its instruments and servants, shall therefore perish, or shall therefore forego the endowment of its powers, which it manifested by these its instruments-of that we have no warranty-of that there is no probability. TALBOYS. Much rather, sir, might a probability lie quite the other way. For if the structure of this corporeal frame places at the service of the Mind some five or six senses, enabling it, by so many avenues, to communicate with this external world, this very structure shuts up the Mind in these few senses, ties it down to the capacities of exactness and sensibility for which they are framed. But we have no reason at all to think that these few modes of sensibility, which we call our external senses, are all the modes of sensibility of which our spirits are capable. Much rather we must believe that, if it pleased, or shall ever please, the Creator to open in this Mind, in a new world, new modes of sensation, the susceptibility for these modes is already there for another set of senses. Now we are confined to an eye that sees distinctly at a few paces of distance. We have no reason for thinking that, united with a finer organ of sight, we should not see far more exquisitely; and thus, sir, our notices of the dependence in which the Mind now subsists upon the body do of themselves lead us to infer its own self-subsistency. NORTH. What we are called upon to do, my friends, is to set Reason against Imagination and against Habit. We have to lift ourselves up above the limited sphere of sensible experience. We have to believe that something more is than that which we see than that which we know. TALBOYS. Yet, sir, even the facts of Mind, revealed to us living in these bodies, are enough to show us that more is than these bodies-since we feel that WE ARE, and that it is impossible for us to regard these bodies otherwise than as possessions of ours-utterly impossible to regard them as Ourselves. NORTH. We distinguish between the acts of Mind, inwardly exerted-the acts, for instance, of Reason, of Memory, and of Affection-and acts of the Mind communicating through the senses with the external world. But Butler seems to me to go too far when he says, "I confess that in sensation the mind uses the body; but in reflection I have no reason to think that the mind uses the body." But, my dear friends, I, Christopher North, think, on the contrary, that the Mind uses the Brain for a thinking instrument; and that much thought fatigues the Brain, and causes an oppressive flow of the blood to the Brain, and otherwise disorders that organ. And altogether I should be exceedingly sorry to rest the Immortality of the Soul upon so doubtful an assumption as that the Brain is not, in any respect or sort, the Mind's Organ of Thinking. I see no need for so timid a sheltering of the argument. On the contrary, the simple doctrine, to my thought, is this-The Mind, as we know it, is implicated and mixed up with the Bodythroughout-in all its ordinary actions. This corporeal frame is a system of organs, or Instruments, which the Mind employs in a thousand ways. They are its instruments—all of them are-and none of them is itself. What does it matter to me that there is one more organ-the Brain-for one more function-thinking? Unless the Mind were in itself a seeing thing-that is, a thing able to see it could not use the Eye for seeing; and unless the Mind were a thinking thing, it could not use the Brain for thinking. The most intimate implication of itself with its instruments in the functions which constitute our consciousness, proves nothing in the world to me, against its essential distinctness from them, and against the possibility of its living and acting in separation from them, and when they are dissolved. So far from it, when I see that the body chills with fear, and glows with love, I am ready to call fear a cold, and love a warm passion, and to say that the Mind uses its bodily frame in fearing and in loving. All these things have to do with manifestations of my mind to itself, Now, whilst implicated in this body. Let me lift myself above imagination-or let my imagination soar and carry my reason on its wings I leave the body to moulder, and I go sentient, volent, intelligent, whithersoever I am called. TALBOYS. It seems a timidity unworthy of Butler to make the distinction. Such a distinction might be used to invalidate his whole doctrine. NORTH. It might—if granted—and legitimately. But the course is plain, and the tenor steadfast. As a child, you think that your finger is a part of yourself, and that you feel with it. Afterward, you find that it can be cut off without diminishing you: and physiologists tell you, and you believe, that it does not feel, but sends up antecedents of | reach the Living Being, we know nothing; feeling to the brain. Am I to stop anywhere? That the Unity of Consciousness persuades Not in the body. As my finger is no part us that the Being in which Consciousness of Me, no more is my liver, or my stomach, essentially resides is one and indivisible—by or my heart-or my brain. When I have over- any accident, Death inclusive, indiscerptible; worked myself, I feel a lassitude, distinctly That the progress of diseases, growing till local, in my brain-inside of my head-and they kill the mortal body, but leaving the therewithal an indolence, inertness, inability Faculties of the Soul in full force to the last of thinking. If reflection-as Butler more gasp of living breath, is a particular argument, than insinuates-hesitatingly says-is inde- establishing this independence of the Living pendent of my brain and body, whence the Being-the Spirit-which is the Man himself lassitude? And how did James Watt get-upon the accidents which may befall the unconquerable headaches with meditating perishable Frame. Steam-engines? TALBOYS. It is childish, sir, to stagger at degrees, when we have admitted the kind. The Bishop's whole argument is to show, that the thing in us which feels, wills, thinks, is distinct from our body; that I am one thing, and my body another. NORTH. Have we SOULS? If we have -they can live after the body-cannot perish with it; if we have not-woe betide us all! SEWARD. Will you, sir, be pleased to sum up the Argument of the First Chapter of the Analogy? NORTH. No. Do you. You have heard it-and you understand it. NORTH. Having seen, then, a Natural Probability that the principle within us, which is the seat and source of Thought and Feeling, and of such Life as can be imparted to the Body, will subsist undestroyed by the changes of the Body-and having recognized the undoubted Power of the Creator-if it pleases Him-indefinitely to prolong the life which He has given-how would you and I, my dear Friends, proceed-from the ground thus gained-and on which-with Butlerwe take our stand-to speak farther of reasons for believing in the Immortality of the Soul? SEWARD. I feel, sir, that I have already taken more than my own part in this conversation. We should have to inquire, sir, whether in His known attributes, and in the SEWARD. I cannot venture on it. NORTH. Do you, my excellent Talboys -for you know the Book as well as I do my-known modes of His government, we could self. ascertain any causes making it probable that He will thus prolong our existence-and we find many such grounds of confidence. NORTH. Go on, my dear Seward. SEWARD. If you please, sir, be yours the closing words-for the Night. TALBOYS. That the Order of Nature shows us great and wonderful changes, which the living being undergoes-and arising from beginnings inconceivably low, to higher and higher conditions of consciousness and action; That hence an exaltation of our Powers NORTH. The implanted longing in every by the change Death, would be congruous to human bosom for such permanent existence the progress-which we have witnessed in -the fixed anticipation of it-and the recoil others creatures, and have experienced in from annihilation-seem to us intimation ourselves ;-That the fact, that before Death vouchsafed by the Creator of His designs we possess Powers of acting, and suffering, toward us ;-the horror with which Remorse and enjoying, affords a prima facie probabil- awakened by sin looks beyond the Grave, ity that, after death, we shall continue to partakes of the same prophetical inspiration. possess them; because it is a constant pre- We see how precisely the lower animals are sumption in Nature, and one upon which we fitted to the places which they hold upon the constantly reason and rely, speculatively earth, with instincts that exactly supply their and practically, that all things will continue needs, with no powers that are not here satas they are, unless a cause appear sufficient isfied-while we, as if out of place, only for changing them;-But that in Death no- through much difficult experience can adapt thing appears which should suffice to destroy ourselves to the physical circumstances into the Powers of Action, Enjoyment, and Suf- which we are introduced-and thus, in one fering, in a Living Being;-For that in all respect, furnished below our condition, are, on we know of Death we know the destruction the other hand, by the aspirations of our highof parts instrumental to the uses of a Living er faculties, raised infinitely above it—as if Being;-But that of any destruction reach-intimating that whilst those creatures here ing, or that we have reason to suppose to fulfill the purpose of their creation, here we do not—and, therefore, look onward ;-That | to us as a necessary part of that Government; whilst our other Powers, of which the use is over, decline in the course of nature as Death approaches, our Moral and Intellectual Faculties often go on advancing to the last, as if showing that they were drawing nigh to their proper sphere of action;-That whilst the Laws regulating the Course of Human Affairs visibly proceed from a Ruler who favors Virtue, and who frowns upon Vice, yet that a just retribution does not seem uniformly carried out in the good success of well-doers, and the ill success of evil-doers-so that we are led on by the constitution of our souls to look forward to a world in which that which here looks like Moral Disorder, might be reduced into Order, and the Justice of the Ruler and the consistency of his Laws vindicated;-That in studying the arrangements of this world, we see that in many cases dispositions of Human affairs, which, upon their first aspect, appeared to us evil, being more clearly examined and better known, resulted in good-and thence draw a hope that the stroke which daunts our imagination, as though it were the worst of evils, will prove, when known, a dispensation of bounty-"Death the Gate of Life," opening into a world in which His beneficent hand, if not nearer to us than here, will be more steadily visible-no clouds interposing between the eyes of our soul and their Sun; That the perplexity which oppresses our Understanding from the sight of this world, in which the Good and Evil seem intermixed and crossing each other, almost vanishes, when we lift up our thoughts to contemplate this mutable scene as a place of Probation and of Discipline, where Sorrows and Sufferings are given to school us to Virtue-as the Arena where Virtue strives in the laborious and perilous contest, of which it shall hereafter receive the well-won and glorious crown; -That we draw confidence in the same conclusions, from observing how closely allied and agreeing to each other are the Two Great Truths of Natural Religion, the Belief in God and the Belief in our own Immortality; so tuat, when we have received the idea of God, as the Great Governor of the Universe, the belief in our own prolonged existence appears or if, upon the physical arguments, we have admitted the independent conviction of our Immortality, the doctrine appears to us barren and comfortless, until we understand that this continuance of our Being is to bring us into the more untroubled fruition of that Light, which here shines upon us, often through mist and cloud;— That in all these high doctrines we are instructed to rest more securely, as we find the growing harmony of one solemn conviction with another—as we find that all our better and nobler Faculties co-operate with one another-and these predominating principles carry us to these convictions-so that our Understanding then first begins to possess itself in strength and light when the heart has accepted the Moral Law;-But that our Understanding is only fully at ease, and our Moral Nature itself, with all its affections, only fully supported and expanded, when both together have borne us on to the knowledge of Him who is the sole Source of Law-the highest Object of Thought-the Favorer of Virtue-toward whom Love may eternally grow, and still be infinitely less than His due-till we have reached this knowledge, and with it the steadfast hope that the last act of this Life joins us to Him-does not for ever shut us up in the night of Oblivion ;-And we have strengthened ourselves in inferences forced upon us by remembering how humankind has consented in these Beliefs, as if they were a part of our Nature-and by remembering further, how, by the force of these Beliefs, human Societies have subsisted and been held together-how Laws have been sanctioned, and how Virtues, Wisdom, and all the good and great works of the Human Spirit have, under these influences, been produced;-Surely GREAT IS THE POWER of all these concurrent considerations brought from every part of our Nature-from the Material and the Immaterial-from the Intellectual and Moral-from the Individual and the Social-from that which respects our existence on this side of the grave, and that which respects our existence beyond it-from that which looks down upon the Earth, and that which looks up toward Heaven. From Sharpe's Magazine. A CONTRAST IN BIOGRAPHY. CAGLIOSTRO THE CHARLATAN-JOHN POUNDS THE COBBLER. CAGLIOSTRO. "Each lie lives out its day, But truth abides for aye." THE eighteenth century was ripe with impostures and delusions. Many were the adventurers and enthusiasts who by their pretensions drew after them multitudes of disciples, more endued with credulity than common sense. John Law, with his South Sea bubbles and Mississippi schemes, to entrap the worshipers of Mammon; Swedenborg, with his angelic visitants and spiritual colloquies, so attractive to minds of a more ideal cast; the Count de St. Germain, with his elixir of youth and philosopher's stone; Mesmer, with his marvelous magnetic influence; the Abbé de Paris, with his miraculous cures and self-crucifying disciples; such were a few of the remarkable persons who gathered around them followers in all countries, and among all classes of people. But chiefly in France did these wonder-workers congregate together. There did irreligion and immorality most widely prevail, and there, consequently, did credulity and superstition find the readiest reception; for the human mind is so constituted that it cannot rest satisfied with an utter rejection of all supernatural belief; and thus it came to pass, that at the time when philosophers and men of letters refused to worship the Creator, they yielded a sentimental homage to the moon; and while denying the supremacy of Almighty God, they believed in Cagliostro's power over the spirits of the air. Nor is this to be marveled at, for in the moral as in the natural world, it is from the focus of corruption that some ignis fatuus springs forth, which by its deluding brilliancy perplexes and beguiles the unwary. It was amid this whirl of deceivers and deceived, that the arch-quack Cagliostro ap peared in Paris, about the year 1784, and by his plausible knavery drew within his magic circle multitudes of men and women who professed themselves philosophers, after the fashion of philosophy in those days. It may, perhaps, be neither uninteresting nor uninstructive to trace out rapidly the course of this remarkable man, and to watch awhile the waxing and waning of his fortunes. Some lessons it will teach, which are so obvious that they need not be noted down here. About the year 1740, the hearth of Marco Balsamo, a decayed man of law, in Messina, was gladdened by the birth of a son, named Giuseppe, of whose early years little is known, save that from the good wives of the vicinity his troublesome doings won for him the nickname of "Maledetto." At the age of fifteen, he was devoted by his parents to the ecclesiastical profession, and they consigned him for his noviciate to the neighboring monastery of Cartigione, where his services were allotted chiefly to the convent apothecary, within whose laboratory he gained his first insight into the principles of chemistry and medicine. It is probable that here also were sown the early seeds of his future destiny, for in those days alchemy still formed a very favorite part of conventual study. Not long, however, was his tarrying among the worthy monks of Cartigione, for so it happened that they having commanded him one day to read aloud a portion of the "Martyrology," as was their wont, during the hours of repast, Giuseppe, despising the accredited saints of the Roman church, using his wit somewhat unadvisedly, read aloud from the pages of his own vivid imagination a story which savored much of lightness and profanity. This gross impropriety caused his immediate expulsion from the convent, and for some while after he seems to have divided A CONTRAST IN BIOGRAPHY. [Nov. among his believers and disciples. The day charged with the crimes of forgery and of detection, however, soon comes, and being fraud, he flies for his life, accompanied by the Countess Seraphina; for so is the humble Lorenza designated in these halcyon days of their prosperity. The arch-quack is next heard of in Germany, where he travels merous suite, "followed," as the penman of about in uncommon splendor, with a nuthe Inquisition writes, "by couriers, lacqueys, domestic servants of all sorts, sumptuously dressed, which gave an air of reality to the high birth he vaunted. furnished in the height of the mode; a magApartments nificent table open to numerous guests; rich dresses for himself and wife corresponded to this luxuriant generosity also made a great noise. way of life. His feigned he gratuitously doctored the poor, and even gave them alms." his time between brawls and painting. But | ral powers, and Prince Potemkin is reckoned swindling was far more congenial to his taste than the fine arts; and having defrauded a certain Sicilian jeweler, named Maran, of his money by promising in recompense to obtain for him a hidden treasure, the adventure ended in Balsamo's detection and flight from his native country. So, as his Biographer of the Inquisition expresses it, "he fled from Palermo, and overran the whole earth.' truly this description seems scarcely hyperAnd bolical; for during the following few years of his life, we hear of him in Arabia, where he studied alchemy and chemistry, under a Greek, named Althotas; in Egypt and Turkey, where he sold drugs and amulets; in Malta, where he was favorably received by the Grand Master, Pinto, and attempted to transmute copper into gold; in Spain and the Netherlands; in Germany, whither he went on a philosophical pilgrimage to the Count de St. Germain; and at the shrines of St. Iago di Compostella, and our Lady of Loretto, whither he professed to be guided by a spirit of devotion. Finally he reappeared at Rome, where he married a beautiful girl, named Lorenza Feliciani, who became afterward, not only the partner of his fortunes, but also of his impostures. It was at this period of his life, that, after having changed his name repeatedly, he assumed the title of Count Alessandro di Cagliostro, and gave himself out as a restorer of the Rosicrusian philosophy, professing to have the faculty of rendering himself invisible, as well as of evoking spirits and restoring youth to old age, by means of his elixir of life. With such marvelous pretensions, and an extraordinary share of effrontery, he soon acquired ascendency over the minds of the multitude, and his reputation shortly spread itself throughout Europe. 66 Our sea-girt isle' was favored more than once by his presence; his first visit being under the simple name of Joseph Balsamo, as a house-painter, and dealer in drugs; the second time, under his assumed title of Count Cagliostro; when he contrived to reap from some wealthy dupes a rich harvest of gold and jewels; but, being betrayed and accused by an accomplice, named Scot, he was consigned to prison, from whence, with much difficulty, he obtained his liberation, and fled to the Conti nent. Often this time, was quickly engraved, and the Cagliostro's portrait, which was taken at copies being scattered throughout Europe, gravings, which still exists, presents to our were eagerly purchased. One of these enview a full and somewhat ignoble counthe soft, studied glance of his uplifted eyes, tenance, with a "forehead of brass," while rendered still more repelling the low expression of his features. man, and yet, through his imposing arts, brated physiognomist was of the mystic Here we lose sight of him for awhile, until he emerges out of obscurity in the yearing on when Cagliostro's knavery should be 1780, at St. Petersburgh, where the court thoroughly unmasked. is dazzled by his pretensions to supernatu element of power had been added to his re- |