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suspectest it of coming of the devil , cast it out of thy fingers—cling it never so tenaciously—like a snake . We hate jobs ; we hate jobbers . We turn with disgust from men who do not care for merit in their choice for an office , provided that their objects are answered , in relation to it , other ways .
These men would raise money upon the keys of St . Peter , We almost believe in a certain metaphysic double-doing , and that the acts of this world are faithfully copied into- —perhaps instigated byanother one of which we are insensible , of which this world is the complement or reflection . In this queer but not unphilosophical view of things—disciples of Spinoza , Berkeley , and Swedenborg—majestic
Triad!—well understand us—all our petty acts of religious treason , all our devil ' s-barter , all our Mammon-huckstering and infidel compromise , hath perhaps its double-drama going contemporaneously on , faint or red , in the realms of Orcus , according to the intensity of our sin-stain or guilt-glow in the actual world , and apprehended through altogether another agency than any which , in this mortal state , we
may understand . Terrible suspicion , this ] There may be an invisible witness and register against us—ay , about our footsteps ! —alone , as we think ourselves , in this quiet world ! There , in that fact , the belief that the spirits are out of the world , lieth , we think , the source of much vice and sin . Men , in their secret heart , believe that there is no such thing as a superintending Providence . They act as if they thought that God had forgotten His world . It is
too much of an everyday place of business for high truths to seem any other than as excellent stories to frighten children . Priests remain satisfied with forms , and decline to question conscience too closely . They sleep ; or we should see them—by name and officeholy ministers , torch in hand and with cries of alarm , arousing the dead midnight in their knocks at the doors of a by far too luxuriouslyhoused generation , buried in dreams which may well indeed be called dangerous !
Our rulers and governors , and those who are put in authority over us , have much carelessness , much muddle , to answer for : we fear there are even " pickers and stealers ? ' amongst them . They make the government of this great England , in many respects , nothing but a miserable mean game of cards—a perpetual cribbage . Do we pay our taxes to have our Public Boards so frequently
nothing but wood ? Is this huge banner of the public weal that is so ostentatiously paraded in our faces , and behind which all these fine gentlemen with their bags , green or blue ^ and their bundles of papers , advance crouching , or stand up , every now and then , to blow some foolish blast upon their vain-glorious trumpets;—as
this banner of presumed excellent government and grand patriotic leading ( so marched up and down , and bobbed impudently in , to astonish us at oar second-floor windows )—is this , we say , to be continually patched when public disgust tears a great hole in it ? Alas little of our grand British lions shall we have remaining but tho tails , if we go on at the present rate of demolition , on the part
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Untitled Article
suspectest it of coming of the devil , cast it out of thy fingers—cling it never so tenaciously—like a snake . We hate jobs ; we hate jobbers . We turn with disgust from men who do not care for merit in their choice for an office , provided that their objects are answered , in relation to it , other ways .
These men would raise money upon the keys of St . Peter , We almost believe in a certain metaphysic double-doing , and that the acts of this world are faithfully copied into- —perhaps instigated byanother one of which we are insensible , of which this world is the complement or reflection . In this queer but not unphilosophical view of things—disciples of Spinoza , Berkeley , and Swedenborg—majestic
Triad!—well understand us—all our petty acts of religious treason , all our devil ' s-barter , all our Mammon-huckstering and infidel compromise , hath perhaps its double-drama going contemporaneously on , faint or red , in the realms of Orcus , according to the intensity of our sin-stain or guilt-glow in the actual world , and apprehended through altogether another agency than any which , in this mortal state , we
may understand . Terrible suspicion , this ] There may be an invisible witness and register against us—ay , about our footsteps ! —alone , as we think ourselves , in this quiet world ! There , in that fact , the belief that the spirits are out of the world , lieth , we think , the source of much vice and sin . Men , in their secret heart , believe that there is no such thing as a superintending Providence . They act as if they thought that God had forgotten His world . It is
too much of an everyday place of business for high truths to seem any other than as excellent stories to frighten children . Priests remain satisfied with forms , and decline to question conscience too closely . They sleep ; or we should see them—by name and officeholy ministers , torch in hand and with cries of alarm , arousing the dead midnight in their knocks at the doors of a by far too luxuriouslyhoused generation , buried in dreams which may well indeed be called dangerous !
Our rulers and governors , and those who are put in authority over us , have much carelessness , much muddle , to answer for : we fear there are even " pickers and stealers ? ' amongst them . They make the government of this great England , in many respects , nothing but a miserable mean game of cards—a perpetual cribbage . Do we pay our taxes to have our Public Boards so frequently
nothing but wood ? Is this huge banner of the public weal that is so ostentatiously paraded in our faces , and behind which all these fine gentlemen with their bags , green or blue ^ and their bundles of papers , advance crouching , or stand up , every now and then , to blow some foolish blast upon their vain-glorious trumpets;—as
this banner of presumed excellent government and grand patriotic leading ( so marched up and down , and bobbed impudently in , to astonish us at oar second-floor windows )—is this , we say , to be continually patched when public disgust tears a great hole in it ? Alas little of our grand British lions shall we have remaining but tho tails , if we go on at the present rate of demolition , on the part