may not always be so formidable, rulers may not always be so merciful or so timid: at any rate evils, and great evils do result from the present system of intellectual slavery, and you have enough to think of, if this grievance alone remained in the constitution of society. I will give but one instance of the present state of our Press.
A countryman of yours is now confined in an English gaol. His health, his fortune, his spirits, suffer from close confinement. The air which comes through the bars of a prison-grate, does not invigorate the frame nor cheer the spirits. But Mr. Finnerty, much as he has lost, yet retains the fair name of truth and honor. He was imprisoned for persisting in the truth. His judge told him on his trial, that truth and falsehood were indifferent to the law, and that if he owned the publication any consideration, whether the facts that it related were well or ill-founded, was totally irrelevant. Such is the libel law. Such the Liberty of the Press—there is enough to think of. The right of withholding your individual assent to war, the right of choosing delegates to represent you in the assembly of the nation, and that of freely opposing intellectual power, to any measures of Government of which you may disapprove, are in addition to the indifference with which the legislative and the executive power ought to rule their conduct towards professors of every religion enough to think of.
I earnestly desire peace and harmony:—peace, that whatever wrongs you may have suffered, benevolence and a spirit of forgiveness should mark your conduct towards those who have persecuted you. Harmony, that among yourselves may be no divisions, that Protestants and
