SPECTATOR'S LIBRARY.

Broalavwr, The'Life St the Rev. 'Joseph BlanCO White, written by Himself: 'with poetic:ea &Ibis Correspondence. Edited by John Hamilton Thom. In three velMnes..Chopatien. THAVEL8,

Lands Classical and Sacred. 'By Lord Nugent. In two volumes ref& and 'Co. -Frcyrow, Self. By the Author of "Cecil." In three volumes CoRatira The Cock and the Anchor ; a Tale of Old Dublin City. In three volumes. lhaffinas: and Co.;17arryytan.-44ifaffn.

MEMOIRS OT BL1N0O WHITS.

To a very considerable extent, the -literary character or Joseph Blanco White is inextricably connected with his life. His skilful logic, 'his ex- tensive reading, his pleasant style, and his earnestness of feeling, which • threw a kind of animation into what was essentially commonplace, would always have rendered him conspicuous in contemporary literature; though these alone would not have excited so much attention as circumstances caused him to attain during the successive epochs of his career. It maybe safely laid down as an axiom, that whoever addresses himself to a class, either in opposition or connexion, will acquire among his contemporaries a closer share of attention than those who speak . indiffereetly to the world at large; and this is more especially the case among religionists' Blanco White not only had this source of extrinsic notoriety, but he had it several times over; running through various modes of Christianity, from the asceticism of the ItomiSh Church to a Unitarianism of his 09. Born at Seville, in 1775, of an Irish family, which in the time of Ins grandfather had emigrated to Spain to escape the persecution of the penal laws,youeg Blanco White was early destined to the church by rather priest-ridden parents, and educated "after the straightest sect." The vivacity of youth and a genial disposition gave rise to occasional mis- givings; but the chain of circumstances, and the affection he bore his mother, overcame these little dislikes : Blanco White pursued with ardour such studies as were then pursued in Spain; he was ordained with appro- bation; mid soon achieved considerable repute as a scholar, a preacher, and a confessor, beside.s some preferments: The highest honours of his profession were open to his view; but before he was thirty, he began to entertain doubts of the infallibility of the'Church. These doubts were at once i.hanged into certainty, when he convinced himself that "the Church had erred." After a mental struggle' 'he sank into Atheism, the in- variable result of Spanish doubts at-that time; in which descent- he was assisted by two dignified ecclesiastics, who lest him prohibited books. A stemer and colder character would have devoted itself to ambition ; a similar nature, less conscientious and truth-loving, would have sunk into the licentious intriguer, which he describes as the characteristic of many Itomish clergymen : but Blanco White could bring himself to neither course. His love of truth was enthusiastic ; to it he sacrifieed iii after life his prospects of fortune, and his dearest friendships : but his nerves were not strong enough for spontaneous martyrdom ; and although his professional duties became a source of torment to him, a wholesome fear of the Inquisition compelled him to diasemble. From vague intimations in his autobiography, itappears that his Southern blood involved him in some of the usual Spanish clerical gallantries • but he tells us that he never abused the powers of the confessional, and he was always attacked by remorse. After some years spent in this uncomfortable position, first at home and then at Madrid, -whither he went to by:lathe a freer atmo- sphere ;rid get away from the eyes of his family, the disturbances con- sequent upon Napoleon's invasion furnished him with a decent excuse to his parents for expatriation ; and in 1810 Blanco White came to England, with little money, but some connexions among our nobility and gentry, to whom he had rendered trifling services when they were travelling tin Spain. Of these, his stanchest friend was Lord Holland. An introduction by -Mr. Wellesley led to the establishment of a Spanish magazine, the Espanol ; the object of which was to inculcate an enlight- ened policy upon Spaniards, and to advocate the English alliance. This publication continued throughout the Peninsular war; on the return of Ferdinand the Beloved, it was dropped, the circulation in Spain being prohibited : but it had procured for its author a pension of 2501. a year from our Government; and this, with his various literary productions, would have furnished him a sufficient if not a handsome income, had he been a good economist. The assistance of his friends, however, always prevented his inattention to money matters from troubling him. In the decline of his life, Archbishop Whately allowed him 1001. a year; • and Lord Holland, during Lord Melbournes Ministry, procured him SOO/. 'from the Queen's Royal Bounty ; not to mention other assistance, equally -liberal, though on a smaller scale. On his first arrival in England, he felt the awkwardness ef a -stranger from want of facility in the language ; for although he had learned itin his father's house, it was imperfectly. One of his first efforts, therefore, was to acquire thetongue ; which:by study and exercise he.soon mastered. Another want he soon experienced was the want of a creed. When set- tled in quiet and unrestraint, the blankness of his scepticism appears to have been insufficient for the genial disposition of Blanco White. Nega- tion was painful; he wanted something substantive, something to lave; and in 1812 he joined himself to the Anglican Church asa communicant; though, it would appear from this entry in his journal, rather as a hope- ful experiment than with a full sense of the Twenty-ninth Article- " oot. 4. "TI have received the sacrament in the parish-church of St. Martin in the . . . . Had I been merely in doubt concerning the religion in which I was born, or had I preserved even appearances, there would have been some reason to hesitate about the propriety of this step. But -who haa ever seen me in a Catholic chapel? All the Catholics that knew me were aware that'! had openly renounced their church. Why, then, should itbe better to have continued a professed unbeliever than attach myself to the religion of Christ, in one of the churches whose tenets reduce that religion to-almost its primitive purity? .114 faith is but weak ;. but it is better to foster it, and a.* the increase of it trom Cied,

thantoamother eases:is:by negligenceand tettlweebtfeleesa"

From this period he waxed in faith. He first attentively studied the

questionby himself, and then applied to the Bishop of London for admis-• salon into the Church of RngLInd as a clergyman. This admission took place in August 1814, after he had signed the Thirty-nine Articles ; though, under-our Protestant constitution, even subscription is not necee- stony for a Popish divine, if this account may be relied on— "I could not help being surprised at the uncertainty in which the important t of admitting Catholic.pnests has been left. My excellent friend Lord Hol- d (as no cam knew what was to be done) consulted Sir William Scott Ile answered, that he conceived nothing more was necessary than to present my letters of .orders to the Bishop, and subscribe the Thirty-nine Articles. I have sub- sequently found that nothing is required by law."

His life for several years after this was uneventful, though tormented

by disease. He resided for some time at Oxford : he acted in Lord Hol- land's family as tutor to his Lordship's son, so long as nervous excite- ment and a restlessness of disposition would allow him to remain. About 1818, active-minded meditation induced doubts of the Trinity, which he partly smothered by the efforts of a frightened self-will; and soon after- wards his literary pursuits and controversies left him little leisure -to -attack his own opinions. In 1821 he began one of his most popular works, Doblado'e Letters ; in 1825-6 he published Practical asul In- ternal Evidence against Catholicism, The Poor Man's Preserva- tive against Popery, and a reply to Butler the Romanist lawyer. The- English High Churchmen thought him their own ; but in 1829, during the fervour of the outcry on Catholic Emancipation, he voted for Peel's regection for-Oxford 'University. In 1833 he entered the lists against 'Moore's defence of Romanism, in the 'Second 7'ravels of an Irish Gentleman in Search of a Religion; in which, though attacking popery plainly -enough, he gave some intimations of .decreasing ortho- doxy. By the close of the next year he had become a -Unitarian ; and on the 1st of January 1835, at the age of sixty, he addressed a letter to the Archbishop of Dublin, with whom he was then living, and with whom he had hoped to die, announcing his conviction, the consequent necessity of publishing it to the world, and the lequal necessity of quitting ,the :household of an Anglican Archbishop. No persuasions -could induce him to reconsider the-subject: he left Dublin in a state of agony-; -which NW increased on his arrival in Liverpool at his friend Zulueta'a, by al doubt a.s to how far the sacrifice was necessary. "Liverpool, 10th Jan. 1835. (At &dada's, 56, seei Street.) , " My whole life has not had moments so hitter as those which I have expe- rienod. within'the last half-hour. Exhausted by the inconveniences of the sea, &mange last night, 1 laid myself.down on a sofa after breakfast, and fell aslee for a short time. I awoke in that distracted state whicla sudden transition place to place frequently occasions; and it was with the greatest difficulty that convinced myself.of being in the house of my Spanish friend Zulneta. Novrevery circumstance of my painful situation crowded upon me, so that I could not bear lip against the anguish of my heart. The whole of what had passed through my. mind with such irresistible power respecting my duty ,appeared like a delusion—, a_drearn—with my present misery for all its reality. In this state I had to write'

few lines to Mrs. 'Whately; and I thought my heart would break. How entirely

Iniust cast myself on -God s mercy for support! Has not. some martyr, when al- ready bound to the stake, been tried by the awful impression that he had been .brought there by a delusion? Was there not something of this horribleides in . 'Christ's mind when, having deliberately gone to the Garden, which Judas knew,' ; he thought three successive times that he might possibly.have overruled the ne- cessity of drinking the cup which he had now close to his lips? Oh! may his fortitude encourage me, and his spirit strengthen me! How much, indeed, I do Mint !tr.

At Liverpool he spent the remainder of a lift which soon became little

:other than a long -disease; his helplessness being so complete that .he could not feed himself for some time before his death, which -took place. in May 1841. As soon as the first shock of his separation frourthe Archbishop and his family was over, he seems to have been as delighted 1 with his new religion as a child with a new toy ; but it is uncertain how long his restlessness of mind would havelrept him to Unitarianism, had he. tterjoyed better health and a longer life. Even as it was, he can -hardly be considered more than a nominal Unitarian. He differed from Dr. thanning, he -differed from Professor 'Norton, and he differed from some congregations at Liverpool. What conclusions he really had come to ■ -.seems Ilifficull to tell. He maintained the unity of God; he rejected the Holy Ghost, the divinity of Christ, and the atonement; he -had early. doubted the inspiration of -the Old Testament, which,doubt he latterly-ex- 'tended to the New. He appears to have reserved to himself a critical right ; of distinguishing-between what is a true historical narrative, or an expo-' -sition of Christ's doctrines, and what is produced by the prejudices of the Evangelical writers arising from their Jewish expectations of a Messiah.. Yet for all ibis, by some mental process, whose logical coherence we-do not perceive, he considered Christianity an inspiration -or revelation. As re- • ,garded churches, he was for perfect freedom—voluntaryism -or endowment as people please : all he objected to was the endowment of tenets. On church doctrine he pushed independency as far as it would go ; allow-i ing-to each individual the same freedom that the Independents grant to' each congregation ; and so little was he bigoted to forms, that he would; not have objected to receive the sacrament -of the Anglican Church. His wwn dying announcement of faith was orthodox, but for the sweeping ex- neption of-the controvertist.

." The nightafter, to several members of the family collected around him, he

-voice of the state of his mind in what he knew to be the presence of Death; and,' aware that the power of distinct utterance was failing, added—' 'When the hour, ihall4ome, let it be-said once for all, my soul will be concentrated in the feeling,' ?Ity Cod, into Th.y hands I commend my spirit. God to use is Jesus; and Jesus 18 God—of course not inthe sense of divines.'

"Re remained some days longer, chiefly in the state of one falling asleep, until the morning ef the 20th; when he awoke up, and with a firm voice and great; solemnity Of manner,' spoke only these words—' Now I clie.' Be sat as one in the- attitude of expectation, and about two hours afterwards—it was as he had said."

Arilid all these changes of opinion, no one (except the Romanist in

their rage) ever doubted that Blanco White was actuated by an-earnest; /sincerity and an ardent search after truth. We do not adduce Lord, Holland, Allen, and Coleridge, or others of that class, because they would look with a mune -unclouded. and discriminating judgment uponsizental

wanderings of which they might not altogether approve. Perhaps a similar remark might be extended to Archbishop Whately, the Provost of Oriel, Professor Powell, and the late Bishop of Meath. But when he left his asylum at Dublin, several clergymen of the Anglican Church are said to have offered to receive him ; and though the Tractarians appear at last to have ceased communicating with him, it was rather in submis- sion to a stern sense of religions duty than a personal feeling. When he announced his lapse to Unitarianism, -Newman wrote a letter which Blanco White describes in his journal as " sighing and groaning " over him.

After this review of his life, it is scarcely necessary to say that his per-

sonal character must have been amiable and attractive to a high degree. No mere intellectual qualities, even of a higher kind than any Blanco White could lay claim to, and no conscientious love of truth, could have made and kept the friends which he possessed, and friends too of such varied principles and opposite cast of mind. From Lord Holland, whom he knew in Spain, to the acquaintance he formed in Liverpool when his health was altogether broken and the power of locomotion was failing, every one seemed to regard him with affection, even whilst regretting or perhaps disapproving his peculiarities of opinion, and the course they drove him upon. Children, those best judges of the affections, ever loved him ; and one can ' trace in all his letters and journal-entries the force of his affections, even to total strangers who indicate a regard for him. His only interview with Mrs. Whately and her daughters after he turned Unitarian is a touching instance of this : it also exhibits his latter views of orthodoxy, with his kind-hearted feelings, overcoming even a sense of religious duty.

LIverpoel, Aug. 9.

"Yesterday, Mrs. Whately and her daughters, Jane and Mary, came to see me. It is nearly three years since I tore myself from them, with such pain and anguish as few will be able to conceive. In my present state of nervous weakness, my emotion was such that I feared I could not preserve a full command over me; and even that I should physically sink under it Conscious of my own deep and ardent love of them, and eertain of their great attachment to me, it yet seems as .if this-meeting alone could have revealed to us the full extent of our mutual attachment The children, as Mrs. Whately assures me, never forget me. When my god-daughter Blanche wrote to me a few lines some time ago, and I sent her seshort answer, her mother tells me that she actually moistened the paper with her tears. When, afterall my efforts not to give way to the impulse of feeling, I went to bed last night,. the tears flowed irresistibly from my eyes, and I you'd hardly compose myself to sleep. Those who have not spent their lives in the en- joyment of regular, every-day, unimpeded affections, will perhaps reproach me with unmanliness. But little do they know what it is for a heart overflowing with kindness from the earliest dawn of my rational life, and repeatedly torn away by the external power of circumstances from every object to-which it has attached itself—little do such people know how cruelly-prunfal it isfor each a heart to have the whole course of its- sufferings brought home at the close of life, by the transient presence of the dear beings to which it clung last, with a prospect of final rest, and whom the same inflexible destiny compelled it to forsake.

" The delight, however, which this meeting has left in my heart's core, is a treasure which I would not have missed for the world. 'Oar parting was such as might be expected from such pure and ardent love. And yet the accursed poison of Orthodoxy—the notion that eternal happiness must depend upon the ' eseenoe in some, at least, of the doctrines of that unknown being the Ch — poured one drop Of bitterness into our cup of friendship. My dear friend Mrs. Whately, in tears, declared to rue her secret hope that I should return to the Dieinitarion faith. She said she had studied that point according: to my method,

never attempted to explain any such method to her, because knew that she was in circumstances winch absolutely prevented its application,) and that she was convinced I was wrong. What could I say to this? I could not harrow-her heart by the suggestion of any fundamental doubts invalidating her conviction. I begged her not to allow her kindness towards me to excite alarm in her breast about my spiritual safety. I bold her I was sure she was &eft in following her convictions, and that I telt the same or greater certainty in regard to myself 'the more I have studied those points, (I added,) the more calm and steady has been my conviction." Oh, that is what! fear! she answered, while tears flowed down her cheeks.

"No one, of course, who has not pursued these subjects with the long, earnest,

deliberate attention which I have employed upon them, can conceive the deep- seated horror which such repeated experiences of the poisonous effects of dogmatic :belief raise in my soul. And yet I would not, if I had the best opportunities, at- tempt to eradicate it from such hearts as Mrs. Whately's. It would be like dis- secting a person alive. There is such an immense mass of undisturbed error, of error which has become incorporated with the best and noblest feelings of her spiritual being, that to attempt a separation would be worse than a deadly blow at her heart. What would be her condition if it were possible that she &wall that I see in that subject ? It is dreadful to consider such an event, though! know it to be morally impossible.

"I am sure that the most difficult kind of toleration is that which I have used

towards my best friends. To leave them undisturbed, whilst my forbearance ap- pears distrust of my own views, is very, hard. But I will not allow my pride to assume the appearance of zeal Let them think what they please, provided I do not make them unhappy. If them were the remotest hope of delivering them from that monster dogmatical superstition, I would not spare myself: but Eng- land has .provided the most ample and most treacherous means to fetter men's on derstandings."

The volumes which have furnished the sulject of this sketch may be

strongly recommended to all who take an interest in examining the deve- lopment and exhibition of individual character. Regarded as a mere life, they are no doubt far too extensive; but they are rather to be considered as the picture of a -mind than the narrative of a career. Even in this sense they are overdone; partly from a natural wish to use materials that are not devoid of intrinsic interest, and have naturally more for friends than strangers; partly from controversial ob- jects. Mr. Thom, the editor, is the Unitarian minister who attended Blanco White to the last, and to whom he bequeathed the task of pub- lishing his Memoirs. A feeling Which one can readily apprehend has in- duced him to print from the note-book many passages which are not teo much autobiographical as controversial. Wherever a personal feeling or an individually characteristic opinion is conveyed, the publication is proper, and indeed essential ; but mere controversial reasoning of a ge- neral kind should have been excluded. Perhaps the correspondence might have been curtailed. Letters to private individuals, whose names are properly enough) suppressed, have little interest on the general =News of languages, literature, or miligion, =leis they are of a

very striking kind. With the exception of these errors, which in Mr. Thom's position it might have been difficult to avoid, the volumes must be Pronounced admirably edited. Everything is done to facilitate the reader, without the slightest obtrusion on the part of the compiler; nor has labour partaking of drudgery been omitted, in the elaborate index and synopsis of the contents.

It should be added, that the volumes have an interest beyond the cha- racter of Blanco White. The first part, consisting of his autobiography to 1826, exhibits an interesting view of a religious Spanish family to- wards the close of the last century ; gives a very good account of the character of the education in Spain ; and presents a picture of Spanish Romanism and its priesthood, searching, critical, real, and curious. The second part, entitled by the author, A Sketch of his Mind in England, contains a narrative of his religious feelings before and during his con- nexion with the Anglican Church, exhibited as they arose by extracts from his journal, subsequently commented upon by his Unitarian lights. And although not without interest, intermingled as this section is with some accounts of his friends and his writings, it will be to many readers the least attractive.of the book. The third part, extending from 1825 till his death, consists of extracts from his journals and cor- respondence, selected and arranged in chronological order by Mr. Thom ; together with a brief narrative of his last days. And besides the intrinsic interest of the self-portraiture, whose character is indicated in some of our extracts, the correspondence, in the letters of Lord Holland, Southey, Coleridge, Channing, Norton, Mill, Professor Powell, Dr. IIawkids, and other names of celebrity, has considerable attractions iu itself, without relation to the biographical purpose with which it was published. From these letters, as well as from the narrative of his life in Spain, we could draw curious and extractable matter ad libitum ; but our space is exhausted, and we must close.